#ill be back to check on this post in the morning to see if this makes any sense at all whenver its not 3am & im eepy

[arolesbianism]

Alright boys pack it up no more rain world posting new oni dlc is coming out in less than a week

[averysmolkirbo]

need help with a fic thing ‼️

planning on doing a sw/sh fic thats kind of like the game's story but with some ships n stuff (and possibly a love triangle??) Im pretty well versed in the game, as ive played it a number of times so i know the general plot of everything.

but today i was thinking about it and wondered if i should replay it while writing it because while i know general plot events & stuff it might be nice to have the finer details/ refresher on stuff ive forgot but on the otherhand it would probably take longer and would take more effort (my mortal enemy)

i could also watch a playthrough of someone else playing it & while i wouldnt have direct control id still be able to get some details without too much of the trouble.

And there is of course, my original plan, of going based off of memory/ without references and now that i say that out loud it does not sound like a good idea, but i HAVE played these games A LOT so could be fine.

so thats what i need help with deciding!! because my squirrel brain (which is currently sick too) cannot decide what option to go with

here's da poll:

[maccreadysbaby]

Some of My Favorite Ways to Describe a Character Who’s Sick

pressing their forehead into something cool or comfortable (this could be an array of things. the table, the floor, someones leather jacket, their water bottle, the countertop)

warm to the touch, or heat radiating from them (could be noticed if someone’s gauging their temperature with their hands, hugging them, or just generally touching them)

leaning into people’s touch, or just spontaneously leaning on them (like pressing into their hand when someone’s checking their temp, or just, like, literally walking up and laying their head on them from fatigue. bonus points if the character is usually feral and the other is scared to engage™︎)

falling asleep all over the place (at the dinner table, on their homework, in the car, in the bathroom — just being so exhausted from doing literally nothing)

being overly emotional (crying over things that don’t usually bother them, like their siblings arguing, or their homework, or literally just nothing)

stumbling/careening/staggering into things (the wall, furniture, other people. there is no coordination in feverish brains. running into chairs, hitting the door, falling over the couch, anything and everything)

slurring their words (could be from fatigue or pain. connecting words that shouldn’t be connected, murdering all of their conversations with the excessive use of ‘mm’ and ‘nn’ in place of words) (this is my favorite thing ever)

being overly touchy (basically like a sick kid — just hold them, please. do that thing where you brush their hair back out of their face, or rub circles on their back, or snuggle them. they won’t care. bonus points if this is also the feral character and they refuse to believe it afterwards)

being extremely resistant to touch (flinching away when they usually don’t so someone can’t feel the fever, not letting themselves be touched because they’re so tired they just know they’ll be putty in their hands if they do)

growing aggressive or being extremely rude (it’s a defense mechanism — they feel vulnerable and are afraid of being manipulated or deceived while they’re ill)

whimpering/whining/groaning (this was in my “characters in pain” post but it’s so good that i’m putting it here too. this shite is gold, especially if it’s just an involuntary reaction to their symptoms)

having nightmares caused by a fever and/or delirium (crying and murmuring in their sleep, or being awake but completely out of it and convinced they’re somewhere else)

making themselves as small as possible (curling up into a ball everywhere they lay, hunching over slightly when standing, wrapping their arms around themselves)

TW for vomiting below cut !!

sleeping in the bathroom floor because they keep getting sick over and over (bonus if someone finds them all weak and pitiful. bonus bonus if they find them there in the morning only to learn they’ve been there all night)

using their hands/other body parts to clamp over their mouth so nothing can come out (like pulling their knees up to their chest and using that, or like, their arm, y’know) (~maccreadysbaby who has emetophobia suddenly gets very awkward about this post~) (~yes i have a phobia of puke and still write this happening to my characters, shut up~) (~it’s about the hurt/comfort okay~)

sympathy pukers (people who aren’t the sick ones but get nauseous/vomit when they see someone else throw up) (~aka me~) (~okay I’m done now~)

dry heaving (it’s gross, but good for making your characters absolutely freaking miserable)

rolling/churning/spinning/cramping/ lurching and all those awesome words that describe what stomachs do when sick (i hate these words with a deep, fiery passion. but they’re good for writing or whatever)

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Illness, Azriel's pov 👀

a/n: Someone sedate me at this point. Also I'm posting this earlier than planned because I am susceptible to peer pressure

Read part one | part two | part three | part five

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

Azriel sat at the table for breakfast, his attention occupied by the window to his right. A plate of eggs, bacon, and toasted bread sat forgotten and untouched before him. To be honest, Azriel was unsure of how it even came to be in front of him. 

Cassian was saying something, the rest of the table humoring him with sleepy mumbles and raised brows. He was always so lively in the mornings, a sentiment not shared by the rest of the inner circle. 

Azriel was typically one of the more responsive people, but his shadow was late today. It had been a few weeks of sending one out to check on you every night, and this one was late. The rest of them swarmed around his feet in anticipation. 

“Az?” Mor’s voice had him breaking his stare from the window. “What are you looking at? You’ve been checked out all breakfast.” 

Azriel cleared his throat and readjusted in his seat. “Nothing. Just distracted.” 

She snorted. “That’s an understatement. You’re been distracted for weeks now. What’s been going on with you?” 

“Nothing,” Azriel repeated. He picked up his fork despite his stomach protesting, the nerves twisting it to the point of unease. 

“Hate to concur, Az, but you have been rather absent. I think this is the first time you’ve had a meal with us this week,” Rhysand chimed in. 

From beside him, Feyre shot her mate a look. 

Azriel, feeling eyes on him, glanced to his left to find Cassian leering at him with narrowed eyes. His brother leaned his head back and hooked his arm over the back of his chair, analyzing Azriel amidst his lax posture. 

Azriel rolled his eyes. “What?” 

With his tongue pressed into his cheek, Cassian let out a disbelieving huff. “You’re seeing someone,” he concluded. “Who is she? Why haven’t you said anything?” 

“I’m not seeing anyone. Why would you come to that conclusion?” 

“You answered that way too quickly to be believable.” 

“Azriel, are you seeing someone? There wouldn’t be anything wrong with that,” came Mor’s soft tone—trying to play the opposite side of the coin. 

“No, I—“ 

“He is. I know he is.” Cassian, with his assured pestering. “And don’t think I don’t notice how Rhys is being silent here. And Feyre. The only two people in the room that can read minds.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Feyre defended. 

“Yeah!” Nyx yelled, quick to defend his mother. “Nothing!” 

But Nyx’s interference only made Cassian turn his attention to the small child and knock his head to the side. 

“Nyx—“ Cassian began. In response, Nyx shoved a fork full of eggs into his mouth. “Azriel’s been taking you to school an awful lot, hasn’t he?” 

“Mmhmm,” Nyx nodded. 

“And he’s been going to all of your school events?”

Nyx nodded again, this time with a mouthful of juice. 

“Does Azriel talk to anyone when he’s at your school?” 

“He talks to Ms. Fern.” 

Cassian let out a barking laugh and turned back to Azriel with a wide grin. “Ms. Fern? Okay, Az, if that’s what does it for you. You should bring her to the house.” 

Although he felt an immense pride for Nyx keeping his secret (because Nyx had seen him talking to you countless times) a strange, hot anger licked at the bond hanging loose in his chest. 

He wasn’t seeing Ms. Fern. The reasonable part of his mind told him that it was better this way, you would feel safer, but the unreasonable side wanted to knock Cassian across the room.

You were so much better than Ms. Fern. The teacher didn’t “do it for him” and never would. It was insulting to you. 

Azriel ground his teeth. He knew this reaction was more borne from the fact his shadow hadn’t returned and the worry he was feeling was paralyzing, but reasoning with himself did nothing. 

“I will not be—“ 

Sick, sad, help. 

A whisper at his ear made Azriel rein in his words. 

Alone, alone, alone. 

Azriel snapped his head to the side to find his missing shadow whisking down to join the rest, the hoard of them now rising to leave. To get to you, he realized. He had to— 

“What is it?” Rhysand asked. 

Azriel could feel his talons scratch along the barrier of his mind, but there was no time to let Rhysand hear what he’d heard. In one fluid motion, Azriel was up from the table and out of the house, his wings spread wide behind him as he flew to the outskirts of Velaris where you resided. 

One of the first things he would suggest after he got you to trust him was for you to move. 

He’d already reinforced your locks and checked your neighbors, but you were still so far and that side of Velaris wasn’t the best. 

He’d ask you to move into the House of Wind, but he knew that’d be pushing it. Obviously. 

His back ached as he pressed his wings further, desperate to make it to you. He flung his body one way and then the other to dodge buildings as he went, flying low to save time. Luckily, the streets were barren this early. 

But it wasn’t early enough for your shop to be closed, an all too alarming fact when faced with the “closed” sign on the front door. He yanked on the knob anyways, but the door wouldn’t budge. 

He cursed himself for ensuring their stability. 

He started knocking next—soft at first and then with a blistering urgency. He knocked and knocked and was moments away from flying up to your window and possibly scaring you off for good when the door wrenched open.

You looked beyond disheveled, bone-tired, and frankly gaunt as you stared up at him with an incredulous gaze. Your gaze softened a fraction when you saw it was Azriel beating down your door, but a tinge of irritation remained hazing your eyes. 

“Azriel, we’re closed for—” 

“Are you okay?” he rushed out.

Since the open house, Azriel had been more open with his vies to take care of you. If he were being honest, the intrinsic need to protect you and Melanie was overwhelming and he was barely scratching the surface of all he wanted to do, but you became guarded any time he got too intense. So, he walked you home and asked you about your family and he didn’t care if he got a stonewall in response. 

But right now, you did not look well. 

Right now, there was no Melanie peaking behind your legs as you stood at the apothecary door. 

So, right now, Azriel didn’t have a mind to be subtle. 

“Where is Melanie? Are you hurt?” he asked before you could formulate a response. 

He watched your knuckles pale as you gripped the door. You breathed in deeply. “Mel has been sick all night. I’m not sure what it is and I’ve been trying everything. I’m about two seconds away from calling a healer but…” 

Azriel knew that tell—the way your eyes shifted and your expression pinched. 

More people. 

Anytime you were confronted with introducing more people into Melanie’s life, you crumbled. 

“Let me come see her,” Azriel requested, the tension leaking from his voice into a softer tone. Now that he knew the two of you weren’t dying, there was some relief. Some. 

You shook your head, pressing your lips into a firm line as you deflated. “I don’t want to get you sick. I think I'm already a lost cause, but you—you have important things to do.” 

If only you knew how important you were to him. 

Azriel felt his fists clench at the defeated look in your eye. “If you’re sick, you can’t take care of her. Just let me come in. Let me help, y/n.”  

“Azriel…” 

“Please. Let me take care of you.”

He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth, afraid of you drawing back in fear, but they were already lingering in the space between you. Azriel decided you must have been truly exhausted because your only reply was a pained sigh followed by your door swinging open to let him in. 

You didn’t even send him a sidelong glance. 

Azirel’s hand twitched as he followed you up the stairs to your apartment, the urge to press his fingers along your back stifling. 

One step at a time, Azriel—you were only just letting him into your house. 

Any examination of your apartment abruptly halted as soon as his feet met the threshold of the sitting room. Melanie was lying on the couch looking worse for wear with a cloth along her forehead and a flush to her cheeks that did not sit well with the Shadowsinger. His chest caved in at the sight, a feeling that intensified when her small voice filled the space. 

“Mr. Azriel?” she croaked, attempting to lift her head. You rushed over to press her back down, running your fingers through her hair. “He’s always at my house,” Melanie said, turning to look at you. “Always.” 

You let out a breathy laugh as Melanie shut her eyes and began to softly snore against the arm of the loveseat. Azriel’s shadows rushed to the girl and brushed against her forehead and arms, offering the cool wind they provided. 

In a few steps, Azriel took a knee beside you. He looked at you first—at the way you hovered over your daughter with furrowed brows—and then let his gaze wash over Melanie. Against his better judgment, he wrapped his scarred fingers around her tiny hands. 

No poison, his shadows reported, although he didn’t expect it to be. She was feverish, hadn’t eaten since last night, couldn’t keep anything down; it was rare for fae to get so sick, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t concerning. 

Even more worrisome was the fever emanating from you. Azriel could feel the heat on his shoulder and he could tell you hadn’t stopped to rest. 

“I know a healer that can help. She wouldn’t say anything to anyone,” Azriel said after a beat of silence. 

You paused your fingers in Melanie’s hair. “Do you promise?” 

The sickness had worn you down, taking the fight and fear right out of you. 

“I promise on everything. I wouldn’t bring someone here that wasn’t safe.” 

Azriel called Majda. 

Majda arrived in a few minutes, much to your surprise. Azriel had gotten the door upon her knock, his eyes catching the way your knees shook as you went to stand. 

Majda kneeled in front of the couch where you and Azriel once were, her healing magic lighting up the room. Behind her, Azriel stood with you and he watched. 

He watched your worried brow and the way you picked at your fingers. He watched the flush on your face get worse and worse as your daughter’s illness gradually got you sicker. He watched the way you tracked each of Majda’s movements, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. 

He watched your body shake as it held you up. 

He watched his mate and saw how alone you were. 

Azriel reached up and tucked a hair behind your pointed ear, using the ploy to feel for the temperature on your cheek. You turned to look up at him and he felt the way his expression strained. 

“You should let her look at you too,” he said, voice low and calm.

You shook your head. “I’m okay. I’m fine.” 

“You aren’t.” 

You turned back to your daughter, looking on. 

Azriel no longer cared for the farce he’d been putting on. He stepped closer and let his palm rest on the small of your back if only to support you from collapsing. He saw you glance at him from the corner of your eye, but you made no move to step away. 

It took Majda 13 minutes to come to a conclusion. Azriel knew that because he had been counting. 

“Well, first of all, she will be okay. As will you, as I see you may have the same illness,” the older healer spoke, rising from the ground with a grunt. “It is most unusual—what ails you. Do you have Autumn's blood?” 

The fingers you had pressed to your mouth were abruptly dropped. You looked up to Azriel with panic in your eyes, a question clear in your expression. 

He hadn’t known where you were from, but he had guessed, and you were looking at him as if he knew—as if he knew and you wanted to know if it was safe for the healer to know as well. 

Azriel nodded his head and ignored the bittersweet feeling in his chest. 

He had wanted you to tell him when you were ready. 

“Yes,” you uttered, shaking your head much faster than you spoke. “We both are. Is that—does that have something to do with it?”

Majda offered you a thin smile. “You have Autumn fever. Something to do with the fire that lingers in your blood. Sometimes it does not align with the other courts and your body revolts. It will pass in a few days as most. Uncomfortable bugger to be sure, but nothing that cannot be managed.” 

You sagged against Azriel in relief, the shadowsinger catching your weight as your knees buckled. He pulled you closer to his front but didn’t feel complete until he guided you back to the couch and leaned over Melanie as she slept. 

“She’ll be okay?” you asked. 

Azriel thought the question was for Majda, but when he looked to his side you were staring directly at him, fear and fever in your gaze. 

He lost his breath and captured your face in his hands. “She’ll be okay,” he assured. You were so hot against his skin. “You will too. I’ll fix it.” 

Something righted in your expression—something softened. For the first time since he entered your house, you let out a full breath and allowed your eyelids to drop. It was barely thirty seconds before your head fell as well, your forehead landing on Azriel’s collarbone. He trailed his hand up to rest against your hair and placed his other on Melanie’s knee as he stayed beside the couch. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Shadowsinger,” Majda crooned. “That’s a whole lot of responsibility. A lot of secrets.” 

Azriel tightened his hold on you. “Do you have herbs that would help? To lessen fever or pain?” 

Majda hummed. “I will leave a few.” A pause. The floorboards creaked as Majda went to make her exit. “Heed my words, Azriel.” 

“I know what I’m doing—what I’m getting myself into.” He dropped his nose to your temple, listening to your breath as you slept. His shadows continued their mission of cooling Melanie’s feverish skin. 

“Do you?” 

Azriel considered the question, and no, he didn’t know. 

But he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

part five

[pedroscowgirl]

unexpected encounter

aaron hotchner x fem bau!reader

Warnings: smut! minors dni! p in v (wrap it up), creampie, power dynamics (he's your boss), teasing ? lmk if i forgot something (i prob did)

summary: You were off duty, enjoying a sunny afternoon in a tight, bodycon sundress that accentuated your curves, when you unexpectedly ran into your boss, Aaron Hotchner.

masterlist

a/n: i know it's fall but i just couldn't get this idea out of my head so here you go <3

(also it's 3 am rn and ill post my hugh story tomorrow for those who were waiting on it cuz now its getting a lil late)

The evening sun casts a warm glow as you step out of the café, its fading rays highlighting your sundress, a snug, bodycon fit that clings to your curves. It’s a casual weekend, far removed from the usual dark suits and crime scenes, and you feel a certain freedom in wearing something that shows off your figure. The dress is vibrant, hugging your waist and hips, and the neckline dips just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, nothing too provocative, but more than enough to draw attention.

You’re not expecting to run into anyone from the BAU, especially not your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner. But as fate would have it, there he is, standing near his car across the street, his gaze locking onto you as if he’s frozen in place.

You pause, surprised at seeing him, and the moment stretches out longer than you expect. Hotch, the ever-composed leader, is staring. Not just a glance, but a full-on, wide-eyed stare. His usual mask of professionalism cracks slightly as his eyes trace the lines of your dress, lingering briefly on the exposed skin at your neckline before snapping back to your face.

"Hotch?" you say, your voice light with disbelief, trying to break the tension. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

He clears his throat, his expression quickly shifting into something more familiar stoic, controlled. But there’s no mistaking the way his eyes flicker back to you, like he’s struggling to keep his gaze in check.

“I could say the same,” he replies, his voice a little more hoarse than usual. "I didn’t mean to stare."

You chuckle, trying to ease the tension. “It’s alright, I’m off-duty, you’re allowed to stare.” You give him a teasing smile, knowing full well how rare it is to see this side of him.

Hotch seems to struggle with how to respond, his usual sharpness dulled for a moment. He’s not used to seeing you like this, out of your professional attire, out of the controlled environment of the BAU. He’s not used to seeing you as…anything other than an agent.

“I... uh… you look nice,” he finally says, and you swear you catch a glimpse of something like admiration in his voice, something he’s clearly trying to suppress.

You smile again, feeling a bit of warmth rise to your cheeks. “Thank you, Hotch.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of you standing there, the sounds of the city buzzing around you. It’s strange, he’s your boss, after all. But here, outside the confines of the BAU, things feel different. There’s no case, no profile, no killer to chase. Just Aaron Hotchner, looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Well,” he says after a pause, breaking the silence, “I should… get going.”

“Yeah,” you nod, not wanting the moment to end. “I’ll see you Monday.”

But as you turn to leave, you can feel his eyes on you for just a second longer than necessary, like he’s not quite ready to break the spell.

And neither are you.

Monday rolls around, and you’re back at the BAU, your professional self once again. You’re dressed in your usual work attire, nothing flashy, just your go-to blazer and slacks. But something feels off. Specifically, Hotch feels off.

You notice it almost immediately during the morning briefing. Normally, Hotch commands the room with his calm authority, making eye contact with every agent to ensure they’re on the same page. But today, he’s avoiding your gaze. Subtly, of course, but after working together for so long, you can tell. When he speaks, his voice is as firm as always, but there’s something different, an edge, a tension that wasn’t there before.

He keeps the briefing short, his eyes barely lingering on you as he assigns the team to tasks for the case. The second it’s over, he quickly retreats to his office, leaving the rest of the team exchanging confused glances.

“What’s with him?” you whisper to JJ, leaning in as everyone gathers their files.

JJ shrugs. “I have no idea. He’s been quiet all morning.”

Emily slides in next to you, overhearing the conversation. “Did you do something to piss him off?” she teases, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

You roll your eyes but feel your stomach flip, wondering if you should tell them what happened over the weekend. You and Hotch didn’t do anything wrong, but there was definitely a moment. One you haven’t been able to stop thinking about either.

“I didn’t… exactly piss him off,” you say, your voice lowering. JJ and Emily exchange glances, their interest piqued.

“Spill,” Emily demands, her tone playful but insistent.

You sigh, looking around to make sure no one else is within earshot. “I saw Hotch over the weekend. Outside of work. I was, uh, wearing a dress.”

JJ raises her brows. “Okay…?”

“A bodycon sundress,” you clarify, feeling your cheeks heat up. “And it was… well, more revealing than what I normally wear around here.”

Emily leans back, clearly enjoying this. “So, you’re telling me Hotch saw you looking all hot and couldn’t handle it?”

You shrug, a small smile creeping onto your face. “I don’t know about that, but he definitely stared. I mean, he was stunned. He couldn’t even look away for a minute.”

JJ’s eyes widen in amusement. “No way. The Aaron Hotchner showed an expression on his face?”

“Exactly!” you say, laughing now that you’re sharing it with them. “I didn’t think much of it, but today? He’s been acting weird. It’s like he can’t even look at me.”

Emily grins. “You broke Hotch’s brain. Well done.”

JJ chuckles softly. “He’s probably just not used to seeing you like that, out of work mode. It might’ve caught him off guard.”

“Off guard is an understatement,” you murmur, thinking back to how he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “But it’s not like anything happened. It was just… a moment.”

“A moment that Hotch clearly can’t stop thinking about,” Emily adds. “You’ve thrown him off his game, and honestly? I love it.”

JJ gives you a more reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’ll get over it. It’s Hotch. He’s probably just trying to re-center himself. Maybe he’s worried about crossing any lines.”

You nod, but part of you wonders if there’s more to it. The way he looked at you—it wasn’t just surprise. There was something deeper, something he clearly didn’t know how to handle.

“Well,” Emily says, grabbing her tablet, “this should be fun to watch. Let’s see how long it takes for him to figure out how to act normal around you again.”

You laugh, but internally, you feel that same curiosity rising. What was Hotch thinking when he saw you? And why does it feel like it’s affected him this much?

The rest of the day drags on, but you can’t shake the tension between you and Hotch. Every time you walk by his office or catch a glimpse of him from across the bullpen, there’s this undercurrent, something simmering beneath the surface. You try to focus on the case, to act as if nothing happened, but it’s impossible to ignore the way his presence feels so much heavier today.

By mid-afternoon, you’ve had enough. You need clarity, or at least to know that this awkwardness isn’t all in your head. So, when you notice Hotch heading for the break room, you seize the opportunity.

You walk in just after him, the door swinging shut softly behind you. He’s standing by the coffee machine, his back to you, shoulders a little more tense than usual. You take a breath before speaking.

“Hotch?”

He turns slowly, his eyes meeting yours, and for a second, there’s that flash of something, surprise, maybe even desire, before he quickly masks it with his usual professionalism.

“Agent” he says, the formality of your title jarring. His voice is cool, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back.

You step closer, trying to keep your tone casual. “I’ve noticed you’ve been… distant today.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, but there’s a tightness in his jaw. “I’ve been focused on the case. Nothing more.”

You cross your arms, feeling a mix of frustration and something more personal. “Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looks away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before his eyes return to yours. “I’m not avoiding you. I just—” He pauses, his expression faltering for the briefest moment. “I want to maintain professionalism, that’s all.”

You blink, caught off guard by the admission. “Is this about Saturday?”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, confirmation, maybe. He looks almost uncomfortable now, like he’s been caught in something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I didn’t expect to see you outside of work,” he says carefully, his voice a little quieter. “And… I wasn’t prepared for how you looked.”

You feel a warmth rising in your chest, knowing now that you weren’t imagining things. “It was just a dress, Hotch.”

He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, his hands resting on the counter behind him as if he needs the support. “It wasn’t just the dress. It was…” He hesitates again, as if he’s struggling with how much to admit. “It was seeing you outside of this job. Seeing you as… more than just my agent.”

Your breath catches slightly at his words. More than just an agent? You hadn’t expected him to be this honest, to admit that there was something more to his reaction.

“And that bothers you?” you ask, your voice softer now.

“It complicates things,” he says, his gaze finally softening. “We work together. I’m your superior. I have to maintain a level of professionalism, not just for me, but for you, too.”

You step a little closer, feeling a pull between the two of you that you can’t quite explain. “But it’s not just about professionalism, is it?”

Hotch’s eyes search yours, and for the first time, you see the conflict written all over his face. “No, it’s not,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The air feels thick with everything unspoken, everything hovering just beneath the surface. You can feel the distance between you narrowing, both physically and emotionally, and it’s like a magnet pulling you closer.

“I don’t want this to affect our work,” he finally says, breaking the silence. But the way he’s looking at you now, his eyes soft, his expression vulnerable, makes you wonder if he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

“It won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “We’re both professionals. But we’re also human.”

Hotch exhales softly, his posture relaxing ever so slightly, like the weight of his inner struggle is easing. He still looks conflicted, but there’s a shift in his demeanor, a sense that maybe he’s not entirely ready to let this go, either.

Before either of you can say anything more, the door to the break room opens, and you both immediately step back into your professional roles as JJ walks in, oblivious to the charged moment she’s interrupted.

“Hey,” she says casually, reaching for the coffee pot. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly, exchanging a brief glance with Hotch. “We’re fine.”

JJ looks between the two of you but doesn’t press further. “Good, because we’ve got a new lead on the case. Hotch, we need you in the conference room.”

Hotch gives you one last look before nodding to JJ. “I’ll be right there.”

It’s a warm, sunny afternoon when you arrive at the park for a team’s casual get-together, organized by Garcia, who insisted everyone needed some downtime outside the walls of the BAU. Laughter and conversation fill the air as the team relaxes, scattered across picnic tables and blankets.

You’re wearing that sundress again, the one that hugs your curves, the one that made Hotch’s breath catch in his throat the last time he saw you. It’s a bodycon dress that highlights your figure, with just enough of a neckline to show off a hint of cleavage, and when you walk up to the group, you immediately feel his eyes on you.

Aaron stands across the grassy clearing, wearing a simple polo and jeans that fit him perfectly. The dark material contrasts with the sunlit background, casting shadows across the strong lines of his jaw and the slope of his neck. He’s looking at you, his expression intense, his thoughts seemingly far away.

He’s quiet—Hotch always is during these gatherings—but you know what’s on his mind. It’s the same thing that’s been lingering between the two of you for days, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. His eyes flicker from your face to your body, lingering on the dress, and you can see his jaw tighten. The rest of the team is laughing, eating, and enjoying the afternoon, oblivious to the tension that’s simmering just beneath the surface.

As you settle down near the picnic table, chatting with JJ and Emily, you can feel Hotch’s gaze like a physical touch. He tries to be subtle, to act like nothing is out of the ordinary, but you catch him glancing at you again and again. Each time, his eyes darken with desire, his body language betraying the thoughts racing through his mind.

You shift slightly, adjusting the hem of your dress, and you can almost feel the way his focus sharpens. Every movement you make seems to affect him, his grip tightening around his coffee cup, his posture stiffening ever so slightly. He’s trying to keep it together, trying to maintain that professional composure, but you can see him slipping.

From across the table, Garcia rambles about some new tech gadget she’s discovered, and Reid chimes in with his usual barrage of facts. But your mind is on Hotch, and the way his gaze hasn’t left you for more than a few seconds. You glance up, meeting his eyes from across the distance, and the heat between you is undeniable.

He looks away quickly, but you catch the way his fingers clench slightly into a fist before he releases them, exhaling as if to steady himself. You bite your lip, feeling a surge of confidence as you decide to tease him, leaning forward a little more as you laugh at something Emily says. You know exactly what you’re doing.

Hotch’s eyes flash again, and for a moment, you think he’s going to snap. His hand flexes against his thigh, and his gaze grows even darker, filled with barely-contained need. He wants to touch you, he needs to, you can see it in the way he shifts in his seat, the tension rolling off him in waves. But he can’t. Not here. Not in front of the team.

The rest of the group is oblivious to the magnetic pull between you two, but you know. And Hotch knows. His restraint is fraying at the edges, his focus divided between trying to keep up the pretense of professionalism and the urge to take you somewhere more private.

You catch his eye again, holding his gaze just a moment longer than before, and you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch, the smallest hint of a smile, or maybe something more primal. His control is slipping, and he’s fighting it with everything he has.

As the afternoon stretches on, the laughter and casual conversation continue, but all you can think about is what’s going to happen when this gathering ends. When it’s just the two of you. When he doesn’t have to hold back anymore.

And by the way Hotch keeps looking at you, his thoughts following every move you make, you know it’s only a matter of time.

As you pack up your things, you notice him lingering by his car, his eyes still on you, and your heart skips a beat when he makes his way over to you.

"Need a ride home?" he asks, his voice smooth but heavy with something more.

You nod, sensing that this is the moment you’ve both been waiting for. There’s an undercurrent in his words, a promise of something more than just a simple ride.

The drive to your place is thick with tension, the kind that makes the air feel heavier, charged with anticipation. Neither of you speaks much. There’s no need to, everything has already been said in the heated looks exchanged back at the picnic, in the way his hand brushed your lower back for just a second too long as he led you to his car. It’s there in the way he’s gripping the steering wheel now, his knuckles white as he tries to keep control, though you can tell that his thoughts are anything but steady.

You glance at him from the passenger seat, noticing the way his jaw is clenched, the tendons in his neck tight as he stares at the road. His usual cool, collected demeanor is crumbling, and you know exactly what’s on his mind. You in that dress. The way he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he saw you at the park. The way you’ve been teasing him all afternoon, letting your fingers linger on his arm when you spoke, leaning just a bit closer to him than usual.

It’s like a silent game between the two of you—one that’s about to reach its breaking point.

The second the car pulls into your driveway, you can feel his restraint finally snap. The engine is barely off before Hotch is out of the car, quickly making his way around to your side. He opens the door for you, but as you step out, you can see the way his eyes are filled with a hunger that’s only grown stronger throughout the day. His hand is on your lower back again, guiding you up the steps to your door, but this time, his touch lingers. You can feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of your dress, and it sends a thrill through you.

You unlock the door with trembling fingers, your heart racing, knowing what’s about to happen. You step inside, and the second the door closes behind him, it’s like a dam breaks.

Hotch’s hands are on you before you even have time to turn around. His fingers curl around your waist, pulling you back against him as his mouth finds your neck. His lips are hot and urgent against your skin, and you can feel the rough stubble of his jaw scraping lightly as he kisses along the curve of your throat. His breath is ragged, and you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he growls against your ear, his voice low and rough, filled with barely-contained need. His hands slide up your sides, his fingers tracing the outline of your dress, and the way he’s touching you, like he can’t get enough, makes your body heat up instantly. “Ever since I saw you in that damn dress…”

You gasp as his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you even closer, his hips pressing against you in a way that leaves no doubt about how badly he wants you. His mouth moves along your neck, hot and insistent, as his fingers slip beneath the fabric of your dress, hiking it up slightly so he can grip your bare skin.

“Aaron…” you breathe, your voice catching as you tilt your head to give him more access. Your body is already reacting to his touch, your pulse quickening, heat pooling in your belly. You want him just as badly, have been wanting him since the moment he first laid eyes on you in this dress.

You barely make it to the kitchen before Hotch lifts you up, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he sets you on the counter with ease. The cool surface contrasts with the heat of his body pressing against you, and you gasp at the sensation. His hands are everywhere now, on your thighs, sliding up to your hips, then gripping your waist as he pulls you even closer to the edge of the counter.

He kisses you hard, his lips crashing against yours with a need that makes your head spin. It’s a kiss filled with everything he’s been holding back, all the tension from the past week finally spilling over. You kiss him back just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands continue to explore your body.

His fingers slide under the hem of your dress, hiking it up higher as his hands trace the curve of your thighs. The way he’s touching you is possessive, almost frantic, like he can’t get close enough. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. His hands slide up your sides, brushing over the neckline of your dress. “This dress… you have no idea what it does to me.”

You bite your lip, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, dark with need. “I wore it for you,” you admit softly, your voice breathless. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.”

Hotch groans softly "fuck you're such a slut for me" his hands tightening on your waist as he kisses you again, slower this time, but no less intense. "fuck yes aaron I am" you replied and his hands roam over your body, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress to touch your bare skin. You arch into his touch, your body responding to him in a way that makes it impossible to think about anything else.

One of your straps slips from your shoulder, and in an instant, Hotch freezes. His breath catches as he pulls back slightly, his eyes fixed on your exposed skin. The strap falls, and your breast is revealed to him. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes darkening even more as he takes you in.

“God…” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. His hands move to your shoulders, gently pushing the strap further down until your dress is hanging loosely off one side. His eyes flicker up to yours, filled with a mix of awe and raw desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

He leans down, his lips brushing softly over your exposed skin, kissing along the curve of your breast with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. But the tenderness doesn’t last long, soon, his kisses grow more urgent, more desperate, as his hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin.

You moan softly, your head falling back as his mouth finds your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he sucks gently, sending a surge of heat straight to your core. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter as he continues his assault on your senses, his lips and hands everywhere at once.

“I can’t… stop,” he groans against your skin, his voice rough and filled with desire. “I’ve wanted this for so long…”

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping you tightly as he pulls you against him, his erection pressing firmly between your legs. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders as he moves against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“I need you,” he murmurs, his voice low and desperate. “Right now.”

You nod, breathless, as you pull him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lifts you slightly off the counter. His hands slide under your dress, pulling it up higher as he presses himself against you and takes off your underwear, his lips find yours in a heated kiss that leaves you both gasping for air.

When he finally enters you, it’s like everything else fades away. The world outside, the past week of stolen glances and restrained touches, it all falls away as he moves inside you. His pace is slow at first, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, his lips brushing over your skin with every thrust.

You arch against him, your hands gripping his back as he moves faster, his control slipping as the need between you builds. His mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, your breasts everywhere, as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

The strap of your dress falls completely now, both your breasts exposed to him, and Hotch loses it. His hands cup your breasts again, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he thrusts harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, his voice filled with awe and desire. “Everything about you… I can’t get enough.”

You moan his name, your body trembling as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. The way he moves inside you, the way he touches you, it’s all too much. You feel the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap at any moment.

And then, with one final thrust, you’re falling. You cry out, your body arching against him as pleasure crashes over you in waves. Hotch follows seconds later, groaning your name as he shudders, his body tensing as he finds his release.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your bodies still connected, your breaths mingling as you come down from the high of it all. Then, slowly, Hotch pulls back slightly, his hands still holding you close as he looks into your eyes, his expression softer now, filled with something more than just desire.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice full of awe as he brushes a stray hair from your face. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to keep my hands off you after this.”

You smile, breathless, as you lean in to kiss him again, slow and deep, savoring the moment. “Then don’t,” you whisper against his lips, and the way he kisses you in return tells you that he has no intention of letting go anytime soon.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper

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the re-do, pt. 2 | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: one more time won't hurt anyone...right?

warnings: SMUT!!!; established friendship; unprotected p in v; fingering; dirty talk; choking; hair pulling; slapping; sneaking around; 18+

notes: here it isssss. in honour of almost hitting 1000 followers (WHAT?!?!?!), i wanted to release a part 2 to my most loved fic!! im currently posting this less than 24 hours before i leave for my trip to europe (yay!!), but unfortunately it'll be the last one i'll be posting for a while. saying that, i'll be back home august 1st and knowing me ill want to get right back into writing, so pls feel free to continue to drop requests over the next few weeks (as long as ur okay with waiting for a while!!!). thanks so much for all the love ya'll, ur the ones who make this whole thing so much fun!!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

Walking up to the triplets’ front door, I didn’t knock before turning the knob and entering the warm, familiar home. Nick, Matt, and Chris were finally home in Boston for a few weeks, and I was so excited to see them for the first time in months. They had just landed this afternoon, and although I told them I could give them some time to settle in, I couldn’t stop myself from driving over to theirs as soon as Nick sent me a photo of Trevor; proof that they were home and settled in enough.

“There she is!” Mary-Lou’s cheerful voice greeted me once I walked up the steps and into the kitchen. I didn’t have a chance to say hello before her arms were wrapped tightly around my frame; embracing me in a comforting hug. “How are you sweetheart?” She asked once she released me from her grip. I smiled. “I’m good! I’ve missed you all though.” I replied as she rubbed her hands up and down my arms affectionately. “I’ve missed you too! You hungry? I’m just finishing up some Shepard’s pie.” She walked back over to the oven, opening it slightly to check on its contents. “You know I could never turn down your Shepard’s pie.” I laughed.

“Where are the guys?” I asked, peering at the closed kitchen door. “Oh, they’re in the living room. I had to lock them out of here, they were driving me nuts!” She chuckled, pulling the casserole out of the oven. “You go ahead.” She urged, gesturing to the closed door. Sending her a warm smile, I opened the door and my eyes immediately fell on my three best friends sitting together on the couch in the living room.

“Y/n!” Shouted Nick, throwing his hands up in the air from his place on the couch. Matt and Chris both simultaneously peeled their eyes away from the screen and looked in my direction; their faces lighting up in smiles immediately before they all stood up to greet me. I hurried over to them and went in to hug Nick first, Chris next, then finally Matt.

I hadn’t seen Matt since the last time I visited them in Los Angeles, which also happened to be the time when him and I had fucked after filming their rated r Youtube video. Just like the time we had lost our virginities to each other, we hadn’t let the sex interfere with our friendship at all, and things hadn’t really changed in any way. Obviously, thanks to Matt’s failure at muting the Discord server, Chris and Nick were much too aware of exactly what had happened that night. But besides the painfully awkward morning after when I walked out of Matt’s room to find them eating breakfast — both avoiding eye contact with me entirely — things were fine with them as well. Once we spoke to Nick and Chris about it, we had convinced them both — as well as ourselves — that what had happened that night was simply a fleeting moment of nostalgia brought on by talking about our first time together.

But I would be lying if I said that as soon as I felt Matt’s hands on me I didn’t feel a shiver down my spine; or that when he whispered a breathy “I miss you” in my ear, I didn’t want to tear all of his clothes off right then and there. The sex we had that night, although spontaneous and probably wrong, was the best sex I had ever had. Once I left Los Angeles and made it back to Boston, I had fucked a handful of other guys — just trying to come even slightly close to feeling the way I had that night — only to be left feeling more and more disappointed. Matt and I knew each other far too well, and in some way it was like our bodies were tied to the other — first by losing our virginities to one another but then furthered by the crazy sex we had years later. I had accepted the fact that sex just wasn’t ever gonna be like that again, but now feeling him pressing against me, all of that acceptance just immediately vanished.

“How’s mom doing on dinner?” Chris asked, startling me out of my trance and walking in the direction of the kitchen door as I pulled away from Matt. “I think it’s almost done. But I was told you were banished from the kitchen, so stay away please.” I replied, walking over to him and tugging on his arm to draw him away from the door. Just then, the door opened and Mary-Lou appeared holding her own plate of food. “Please don’t destroy my kitchen.” Was all she said as she walked to the dining table with her plate, sighing as she did.

𓆩☆𓆪

After we all polished off the Shepard’s pie, we ended up on the couch watching a hockey game. I had curled up in a blanket between Matt to my right and Chris to my left, and was bathing in the contentment of just sitting with them in their family home, just like we did as kids. Even though I couldn’t give a shit less about whatever was happening on the screen, I couldn’t help but smile when one of them would scream, curse, or cheer as the game continued. As Chris was doing just that, I was pulled from my languid stupor by Matt tugging on the blanket that was wrapped around me; clearly wanting to share.

After spending some time with the guys, my filthy thoughts of Matt began to dissipate. After months of not seeing them, I had far too much time to stew over all of the flashbacks I got; causing me to create a certain image of him in my mind that had differed to the one I had of him before. But, after spending time with him in-person, I was reminded of the fact that he’s the same old Matt that I’ve known for years, and I was just too caught up in that one night.

Then, as if he was reading my mind, I felt fingertips gently graze my right thigh under the blanket. Immediately, my body began to react, and every place he touched felt like it was being set on fire. I gulped, and adjusted myself slightly before forcing my eyes to focus on the screen in front of me; deciding that ignoring these touches was the best thing that I could do. Still, he was relentless. His hand continued to travel all across my thigh, just a whisper of contact as if he knew it would drive me crazy. I shuddered, but played it off by pulling the blanket against me as if I was cold. Even though I knew he could tell that I was affected by his touch, I knew that my lack of acknowledgement was surely driving him crazy. My hunch was confirmed when he brushed his fingers lightly against my clothed heat; causing me to intake a sharp breath that I had to immediately hide with a cough.

This caught Chris’ attention, and he fixed his gaze on me. “You okay Y/n?” He asked, and I nodded frantically. “Mhmm. Just a cough.” My response was hitched as Matt’s fingers continued to tease me, and as soon as Chris fixed his gaze back on the tv, I grabbed his hand under the blanket and held it still; turning to give him a sharp glare. Once I turned to face him, I was met with a taunting smirk that caused something to stir inside of me. He then used his eyes to wordlessly gesture to the staircase; clearly proposing that we go upstairs.

I’m not sure how I gained the self control, but somehow I was able to shake my head sternly before drawing my attention once again back to the game. His hand stayed still, but it still rested on my thigh and I could feel myself vibrating under his touch. Then, he retracted his hand from the blanket and I had to stop myself from groaning from the loss of contact; knowing that I shouldn’t want to feel it again. From the corner of my eye, I saw him unlock his phone and felt myself relax slightly knowing that he had something to distract him.

Think again.

I felt my own phone vibrate in the pocket of my hoodie, and reaching under the blanket, I pulled it out to find a text from no other than Matt.

Matt: I need you

I had to fight to keep my jaw from dropping at his text, and I turned to face him but found him looking straight ahead at the game. Sighing, I decided to respond over text after turning my brightness all the way down to keep Chris from catching a glimpse.

Y/n: matt. we can’t.

I heard his phone vibrate beside me, and kept my gaze away from him as he picked it up. I only had to wait a few seconds for a response.

Matt: Yes we can

Matt: Please Y/n.

The clear desperation in his texts went straight to my core, and I felt myself on the verge of dissolving into a puddle right then and there. To make things even worse, Matt snaked his hands back under the blanket, grabbing my own and drawing it towards the crotch of his jeans. There, his cock was already rock hard, and I really had to keep myself from straddling him right there. I turned to my left to get a quick glance at Nick and Chris beside me. Nick was curled onto the couch, seemingly sound asleep, and Chris was fully entranced by the hockey game. Just then, a commercial break came on, and I turned to face Matt and gave him a soft nod. Immediately, a sinister smile crossed his face before he put his phone away and cleared his throat.

“Oh my god Y/n I forgot to show you the clothes I bought before I left LA. Remember you texted me earlier today telling me you wanted to see?” His lie fell from his mouth effortlessly, and if I didn’t know that he had ulterior motives I would never come even close to feeling suspicious. Without missing a beat, I followed along in his little lie. “Oh yeah! Where are they?” I responded, doing everything I could to keep my tone as nonchalant as his. “Up in my room, I haven’t unpacked yet. Wanna go see them now?” I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling. “Sure.” Was all I was able to say in response before hurriedly standing up from the couch. Matt shifted slightly under the blanket for a moment, obviously tucking his boner into the waistband of his pants so that it wouldn’t be noticeable, before following me towards the stairs. “Don’t be long!” Shouted Chris from behind us, “Ya’ll are gonna miss a good ass game.”

Quickly, the two of us climbed the stairs, doing our best to keep our composure until we were behind closed doors. We rushed into Matt’s bedroom, him entering before me, and I turned to quickly shut the door. Before I could even face his room, Matt pinned me to the door and his lips were on mine. A groan immediately fell from his lips as I opened my mouth to grant his tongue access; losing all sense of control as his hands roamed every inch of my body. My own hands flew to his hair, holding his face against mine as the kiss deepened even more. Our tongues swirled around each other, our mutual hunger for one another taking an almost literal form.

One of Matt’s hands travelled up my chest, tearing my hoodie up over my head in the process, before attaching to my throat. I gasped at the pressure, feeling my panties flood with arousal, and he tugged at my bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away from the kiss; gazing down harshly at me. “How many guys have you fucked since I saw you last.” His voice was gravelly with lust, and his tone was so ominous that if I hadn’t known Matt for as long as I had, I would be afraid. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my cheek as he slapped it. “Answer me, Y/n. How many?” I couldn’t keep the small smile from travelling to my lips from how turned on he was making me, but finally I was able to get myself to respond. “A few.” His pupils dilated.

“Oh yeah? How were they?” He was smirking, and I was thrown off by his words. Again, in my silence he slapped my cheek. At that, I couldn’t keep the lustful squeal from falling from my lips. “T-they were okay.” I lied, feeling myself tremble against the doorframe. At that, his thumb that had been soothing my sore cheek traveled to my mouth, pressing down on my lips and encouraging me to open up. I obliged, letting his thumb rest on my tongue before slowly wrapping my lips around it and sucking lightly. Matt’s eyes were glued to my mouth, but he continued speaking. “Just okay, huh?” He knew what he was doing, and I did as well, but in the state I was in I had lost all impulse control; so I fell for his trap.

“None were as good as you, Matty.”

I batted my eyelashes as I spoke, and immediately his lips were back on mine. Our mouths moved in sync as his tongue dominated mine, and I relished in the familiar taste of him. His burning desire for me fuelled my own, and as I continued to kiss him I felt myself growing more and more needy. As I released a frustrated groan into his mouth, I felt his hand travel to the waistband of my jeans where he hurriedly worked at the button and zipper. As soon as he peeled the rough material down my legs, his hand went to my heat; causing me to release a sharp breath.

“Mmm. So wet, just like last time.” He purred, dragging his mouth away from mine and down my neck; dropping wet kisses in its path. I was shaking from his touch, and subconsciously I widened my legs to give him better access to my aching core. Noticing this, he released a husky chuckle before slowly rubbing two fingers along my folds. “You missed this, didn’t you?” I immediately nodded my head as I nibbled at my bottom lip, needing him to touch me more. “I knew it.” His fingers slowly began circling my clit then, drawing satisfied moans from my mouth. “Yeah. I bet you touch yourself thinking of that night in LA,” His mouth was nibbling at my neck just below my ear, and the heat from his breath caused goosebumps to raise on my skin and my nipples to harden. “And I bet you pretend that your fingers are mine.”

Just as the words left his lips, he plunged two fingers up into me, causing me to gasp in pleasurable shock. Immediately, his fingers went to work curling up to my spongey g-spot and forcing my knees to buckle. Desperate for more contact, I wrapped a leg around his waist so that his fingers could reach even deeper into me. Hushed moans fell thoughtlessly from my mouth, and I prayed that no one in the house could hear them. I gripped helplessly onto the back of Matt’s neck as he rested his forehead against my collar bone, putting all of his effort into his plunging fingers.

“You feel good sweetheart?” He asked, his words coming out in short bursts as he continued his movements. “S-so g-good.” I replied carelessly, arching my back off of the door as I felt tension like a stretched rubber band grow in my stomach. Aching from the pressure, I reached in between my legs and began frantically rubbing my clit; desperately chasing my high. After just a brief moment, Matt looked down between my legs and, upon realizing what I was doing, slapped my hand out of the way and replaced it with his own. His fingers worked on my clit and my core simultaneously, and I lost all control over the erotic noises that poured out of my mouth.

“Shh.” Matt demanded, placing his own mouth on mine in a motionless kiss to stifle my moans. The stimulation was almost too much to handle, and I felt myself teetering on the edge of an overwhelmingly strong orgasm. “G-gonna cum.” I managed to spew out against Matt’s open mouth, and he hummed in response; keeping his pace on my heat steady. “Look at me while you cum, Y/n.” Matt’s voice was commanding, and without thinking twice I opened my pinched eyes and was met with his focused yet aroused gaze just before being overtaken by an earth-shattering orgasm.

As pleasure rippled through my body, my blurry vision never veered from his face as his fingers fucked me through my high. I bit my lip so hard that I left indents to suffocate my stream of moans before they could leave my lips. I felt myself squirt, the pressure that had built up inside of me immediately being relieved, and as I did he removed his one hand from my core and used his other to continue rubbing my clit so that the fluid sprayed all over the front of him and down my legs.

As I was still trembling through my high, I watched as Matt used his free hand to yank his jeans and boxers down his legs before plunging his hard cock into me. “Fuck.” We both gasped in unison as he sunk every inch through my walls, shuddering from the immediate pleasure that we both felt. Matt stayed still for a moment, clearly collecting himself, before pounding into me strenuously. Grasping onto his shoulders in order to stay grounded, I muttered nonsense as his cock slammed into my g-spot relentlessly.

“Fuck. Missed this pussy so fucking much.” Matt groaned in my ear, causing me to cry out as he drove his cock harder and harder into me; so hard that my head began smacking against the door frame. Suddenly, Matt’s hands snaked down to my ass, cupping it in his grasp and lifting me up. Still inside of me, he began walking me towards his bed on the far side of the room, where he placed me on the end of the bed and spun me around. I lay there like a rag doll as I let him reposition me into doggy, before I felt him slide his dick back through my opening.

“Jesus Christ.” I moaned, the new position deeper than the last as I felt every inch of him stretch out my walls and reach even further into me. Matt grabbed a fistful of my hair and I cried out as he used his grip to pull my head up off of the bead. With my back pressed against him, he covered my mouth with his hand as he peppered my sensitive neck with wet kisses. “You love my cock, don’t you baby?” He asked in a rough voice against my ear, and I nodded. Suddenly, his hand made contact with my throat and he tightened his fingers around it again. “Words, Y/n.” He said tauntingly, and I whined. “Y-yes. I love it Matt.” I managed to reply before he loosened his grip on both my throat and my hair, allowing my body to fall back onto the bed.

His hands found my hips, and he held them tightly as he continued thrusting into me. His pace was growing slightly choppier, and I smiled to myself maniacally, knowing that he was feeling good. As his rhythm slowed, I began moving my own hips up and down to meet his length. Noticing what I was doing, Matt stopped his own movements and allowed me to fuck myself on his cock. I heard his heavy breathing behind me as I continued to throw myself down on it, picking up the pace with each pump.

His hands gripped my hips tighter before he spoke. “Mmmm, slow down honey, gonna cum soon if you keep doing that.” I smiled to myself once again, and even let out a small chuckle as I continued at the same quick pace; wanting to make him feel good. The sound of wet skin slapping skin filled the space between us as I worked his cock up and down my walls, and I felt another orgasm approaching down my spine. “Matty, gonna cum again.” I whined as the build up became un-ignorable. “Me too. Turn around. Wanna see that pretty face while you take it.” His words went straight to my core, and I struggled to find the strength to do exactly what he said.

With his help, I flipped around so that I was now on my back looking right up at his naked frame. He gazed down at me with eyes so dark and filled with lust that I almost gasped from the stark difference from the Matt that I typically saw. Leaning over me, he drove his length into me again, grabbing onto my tits as he did; making me see stars. Matt grabbed onto my legs and bent them at the knees before pressing them down and allowing his cock so much access to the deepest part of my core that I almost cried in addictive pain. “You want me to cum in you baby?” He asked, his voice a whole octave lower than usual due to his aroused state. I nodded, before remembering to use my words. “P-please cum in me.” I added, feeling my own orgasm causing my walls to already begin to convulse slightly. Holding onto my knees tightly, Matt’s jaw went slack before he released a guttural moan, enough to push me over the edge for the second time tonight.

With his cock pulsing inside of me, I shook uncontrollably as my second orgasm tore through me without mercy. I clung onto anything that I could as I fought the urge to scream profanities out at the top of my lungs as my walls milked his shaft dry. Matt continued to thrust into me slowly, pushing all of his cum deep inside as he helped me come down from my high. Once my moans halted, he planted a soft kiss to my hand resting on his chest before slowly pulling his cock out of me; watching the mix of his and my cum drip from my opening.

Walking over to his closet for what I assumed was a towel, he chuckled. Still catching my breath and recovering from my tornado of an orgasm, I struggled to lift myself off of the bed. “What’s so funny?” I asked as I watched him walk over with a towel just as I suspected. Still smiling, he shook his head as he began cleaning me up. “Nothing. It’s just that shit is way too good.” I laughed myself at his words, because I unfortunately agreed. “It probably wasn’t the best idea.” I began as I stood on shaky legs to retrieve my lost articles of clothing. “The first time was purely practical. The second could be called an accident. But a third time? There’s no explaining that away.” I said as I dressed myself.

“What?” He started, walking over to where I was standing to retrieve his own pants. “You’re the one that said that good friendships include fucking each other every once in a while.” I rolled my eyes. I had said that in Los Angeles, but had meant it as a joke at the time. “I don’t know if fucking every time we’ve seen each other constitutes as ‘once in a while’.” I replied, running my hands through my messy hair in an attempt to remedy my fucked out appearance. With a sheepish smirk on his face, he shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it’s working out fine, don’t you?” I couldn’t contain my smile at this, giving away that I agreed. “And besides, no one has to know about this time. No brothers barging in, no Discord servers being left on. No one knows so there’s no need for an explanation this time.” He pulled me to his chest and hugged me for a moment, and I instantly felt more reassured.

“Ready to go? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see the score.” I laughed before pulling away from the hug and heading to his bedroom door. We walked down the stairs in a single file, and walked back into the living room with the intention of looking as inconspicuous as possible. Nick was still sound asleep, but Chris was wide awake, still staring at the tv. He was suspiciously quiet, but I allowed myself to believe that it was just because he was locked into the game, so I nonchalantly sat down on the couch beside him. Just as Matt settled onto the couch to my right, Chris cleared his throat before speaking. “So, Y/n. What was your favourite piece?” I turned to face him in confusion, and mentally scrambled to try to figure out what the fuck he was talking about. “The fuck?” I asked just as Matt pinched my thigh gently under the blanket.

As I realized that he was talking about the excuse that Matt and I had made to go upstairs, I watched as Chris’ eyes shot open and he pointed a finger between me and Matt. “I fuckin’ knew it!” I tried to speak, but I was completely incapable of forming a coherent sentence; let alone a believable lie. I heard Matt groan to my right. “You two fucked again didn’t you!” Still, silence.

Our lack of retaliation was enough to give Chris the answer he needed, and he rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, you guys are a couple of dogs.” He turned back to face the screen, but not before dramatically scooting a few centimetres away from me on the couch. I slowly turned my head to face Matt, and found him closing his eyes and biting his lip to stifle a laugh. At this, I had to cover my mouth to to the same, and I prayed that Chris couldn’t see my shoulders shaking as I laughed silently. My silent laugh seemed to be contagious, because I watched as Matt’s body began to tremble in laughter as his hand went back to casually resting on my thigh under the blanket.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[riceys]

just a thought b4 i go to bed cause brain rot but. . .

Schlatt with another cc!reader and priviate relationship and he accidentally leaks it

so hes super overworked and tired due to some big projects and goes to bed early

youre streaming, about ready to wrap up, when the door to your office opens and a very sleepy schlatt stomps in. you dont notice since your back is to the door

“baaabbbyyy”

chat goes WILD

“A BOY???”

“IS THAT SCHLATT”

“Y/N BEHIND YOU”

upon seeing this you turn around and see him, pouting in your doorway :(

panic sets in as you quickly realize that he is half asleep and doesnt realize youre live

you quickly turn back to your stream and turn it off before sighing and walking to him

“sorry” hes clearly more awake now and has realized whats happened

he collapses into your side, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing sleepy kisses to your jaw. “its okay baby you didnt mean to, it was bound to happen eventually” you coo as you play with his hair. he just nods and relaxes in your embrace and soon you hear his soft snores.

dude fell asleep standing up 💀

“aaalright lovie bedtime” he perks up at your words, eagerly leading you to the bedroom where he crawls into bed with you

“ill take care of it in the morning i promise. just need you right now” 🥺🥺🥺

cuddles omgggg

wake up next morning and check your phone only to find that you in fact did not end stream. . .

——•——•——•——•——•——•——•—

ok so this sucks but its okay cause im eepy as fuck

might turn into a real fic

ALSO i found an old yumi fic i wrote a while ago on wattpad so if yall want me to post that here lemme know (ill do it nyway 😁)

[moonstruckme]

not sure if you’re taking requests buttttt poly!marauders but they’re kinda overprotective bfs and she sneaks out to go to a party with marlene or her girlfriends but they find out and show up at the party 💞

Hi don't worry, I am! I think it should show on the requests page linked in my pinned post, but please let me know if it doesn't, I'm still figuring tumblr out and often mess up! I hope this is alright honey, I tried to go for the angst but honestly the more I write the more suspicious I become of my inability to write our boys being anything other than soft with reader! I'll try to work on it but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this <33

cw: mention of concussion symptoms, including nausea, nothing intense or even very descriptive though

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

You’re aware that the internet had said you were supposed to avoid bright lights, loud sounds, and movement when Remus had looked it up after an unfortunate fall that morning. Just like you’re aware that when your boyfriends left you at your apartment a few hours ago, they’d been trusting you to follow those instructions. But you’re also aware that the internet had led you all to believe your concussion was mild, and that Marlene only has one birthday a year. Damned if you were going to miss it. 

So yeah, you feel a bit queasy as your eyes struggle to track the movement and voices around you, but that’s nothing compared to the contentment of being with your friends. Lily has assigned herself the role of your caretaker, checking that you’re alright every few minutes and shushing anyone who raises their voice too loud around you, and Marlene has attached herself to your side, telling you how much she appreciates you in between beer-scented hiccups. 

“And you’re so nice to come tonight,” she’s saying now, brushing her fingers clumsily but sweetly through your hair. “I can’t tell you how much—uh oh.” 

You have a premonition of ill fate even before the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you follow Marelene’s unfocused gaze to the curly-haired boy coming towards you.

“Happy birthday, Marls,” he says, his smile only appearing slightly strained, before he turns to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”

“Jamie,” you say quietly, and Lily and Marlene leave the couch to give you as much privacy as a party allows. “What are you doing here?”

“Everyone here’s been posting, and you’re in the background of half the pictures.” His smile slips as he crouches in front of you, disappointment in his eyes. “You know you’re supposed to be resting,” he says softly. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

You’re glad that he’s here instead of Remus or Sirius, who surely wouldn’t be as careful about not embarrassing you. James is less stern than the others, and though you feel a bit guilty for doing so, you press that to your advantage. 

“I haven’t drank anything but water,” you say. “That’s gotta count for something, right? And look.” You brush your hair behind your ear, showing him the earplugs you’d put in before arriving. “I’m being careful, see? I’m alright, Jamie, and it’s Marlene’s birthday. Let’s just stay, both of us, okay?”

James looks nearly apologetic. “Remus and Sirius are waiting in the car.” 

You groan, but allow James to pull you to your feet, waving goodbye to your friends with a pout. He supports more of your weight than you really need him to as he walks you outside, where Remus sits in the drivers’ seat of the idling car. Dread settles, along with dull resignation, in your stomach. 

Sirius is in the backseat and you hope James will get in first, but he lifts you in before him, placing you between two of your three upset boyfriends. You can’t look at any of them, allowing James to buckle your seatbelt for you as an oppressive silence, worse than the bass that had brutalized your head inside Marlene’s, stretches out between you. 

True to form, Sirius is the first to breach it. 

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You sigh. “I’m sorry.” 

“You have a concussion! All you had to do was stay home and rest. That website said that lights and loud music—say, the sort of things you’d find at a party—would only make things worse.” 

Normally, you’d argue with him. No matter how hopeless it seems, no matter how obvious it is that Sirius is going to win, you can always meet him head-on and at least make your point. But tonight, with your head throbbing and something about your very being feeling fundamentally wrong, you can’t muster up the energy. 

“I know,” you say. 

Sirius goes silent at the acquiescence in your voice, and he looks at Remus in the rear-view mirror, unsure of how to proceed. James puts a hand on your knee, a tiny gesture of comfort even though he’s upset with you too. The motivation that had driven you to Marlene’s and through the party is wearing off, and you feel suddenly, embarrassingly teary. 

“Do you feel sick?” Remus speaks for the first time, and though his voice is calm, the absence of his usual terms of endearment leave no doubt that you’re still in trouble. 

You clear your throat of the tears that are trying to clog it. “A little.” 

“We’re bringing you to our place to rest.” It’s not a question. “We can go get some things from your place tomorrow, but tonight you can just wear our stuff. Think you can eat something before bed?” 

It’s worse that he’s being kind to you. You’d been prepared for a lecture, but being taken care of is worse. It brings the vulnerability you’ve felt since the frightening pain and dizziness of that morning to the surface, and you keep your face turned towards your lap as your eyes become wet. “Yeah, I think so,” you say, and your voice cracks slightly when you add, “I’m sorry.” 

Sirius makes a sympathetic, pained sound from beside you, and James abandons all pretense of anger, tucking your head under his chin. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” Remus says, a bit more gently. “For now, just try to relax.” 

[demonsslayersstuff]

When You’re Sick (Male Hashira x Reader)

A/N: Head canons and drabbles about how the male Hashira take care of reader when they are sick. No major warnings, mostly fluff. Sanemi’s is written with a female character in mind. I’m gonna take a short break this weekend, so won’t post anything for a few days. Enjoy and have a lovely weekend!

A/N: Shout out to Shinobu and the mess she’s gonna be dealing with if reader gets sick 😂😂😂

Kyojuro Rengoku:

* Worries endlessly when you’re sick, but doesn’t show it. Immediately talks with Shinobu on how to properly care for you and if your super sick he’s legit carrying you to the Butterfly Mansion (🥲)

* This man is a space heater so has no issues cuddling with you when you’re sick. He’s holding you in his arms, massaging your achy muscles

* Takes the time to make your favorite tea or food and sits by you to make sure your keeping food and fluids down

* Tries to complete missions as quickly as possible in order to get back to you. Hates being apart when your ill, so as soon as he’s back your in his arms

You awaken to fingers softly stroking your hair. “Good morning little flame, how do you feel?”, Rengoku asks softly as you crack your eyes open. “Mmmm, a bit better, still tired”, you tell him, voice sleepy. “Let’s drink some water first and then you can go back to sleep”, Rengoku says, helping you sit up. He watches as you drink the full glass of water, before helping you lay back down. “If you’re not better by dinner, we are going back to see Shinobu”, he says as he lightly drapes the blanket back over your body. “M’kay”, you say, already half asleep.

Uzui Tengen:

* I’m not sure why but I see Tengen being more of a problem and less of a help when you’re sick. Like he’s worried but has zero clue on how to help you (😂)

* His wives are the ones taking care of you. They’re making you soup, tea, and keeping an extra eye on you

* Tengen does go out of his way to stop by and check in on you. Definitely see him spending a little extra time with you as you’re recovering. If you’re super sick he’s stopping by our g.o.a.t Shinobu to get medicine and medical advice

* I could see him coming to your room after a long mission and leaning down to kiss your forehead softly, making sure your resting well

It’s very late as Tengen carefully opens your bedroom door. He’d heard from his other wives that your fever finally broke, though you still needed time to rest and fully recover. He shuffles quietly towards your bed, grabbing the blanket you’d thrown off absentmindedly in your sleep. He covers you up before he leans down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. He thumbs your cheek softly before sighing, relief filling his body. Tengen gives you one final kiss before sneaking back out of your room, he’d check on you in the morning, but for now he was going to let you get the rest you need.

Giyuu Tomioka:

* I totally see Giyuu being able to take care of you all by himself. He’s a very resourceful and thoughtful guy, so you’ll be well taken care of if your sick

* Honestly Giyuu knows you so well that you’ll have what you need without asking. You constantly have tea, water, tissues, etc around at all times cause he’s that prepared

* Personally takes you to Shinobu if your super sick and would definitely postpone or delay missions until your well enough to be on your own.

* Does not let you go back to work until you’ve received an all clear and even then he keeps an extra eye on you during your first mission back.

“Giyuu”, you call softly, throat too sore to speak at normal volume. You watch as your husband enters the bedroom, tea already in hand as if he knew exactly what you were gonna ask for. “Thanks”, you say gripping the warm mug, relishing in the warmth it brings to your finger tips. “Of course, need anything else?”, he asks before softly putting his hand against your forehead, noting the slight fever you still had. “No”, you respond with a light smile before sipping the hot drink. “When you finish you should try to get some more sleep, I’m going to run out and get you some more medicine”, Giyuu tells you. You nod your head as you shuffle back under the covers. He leans down to give you a quick kiss, “I’ll be back soon, sleep”, he says before slipping out the door.

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

* Idk why, but I see him totally panicking the first time you get sick 😂😂. Like running you to Shinobu only for her to be like bro, it’s the flu, let her rest and drink fluids

* After that he’s much more attuned to your needs and wants. Notices the first signs of your illness and stocks up on your favorite drink and tissues.

* Though Sanemi takes his job seriously, I could see him asking for a day or two off to attend to your needs if you were really sick.

* He’s at your beck and call. No matter how small the need is, he’s taking care of it. Sanemi is with you every step of the way because he knows you’d do the same for him

“Drink plenty of water and tea. Make sure you to sleep as much as possible”, Shinobu says before wiping her thermometer off. You nod your head and Sanemi keeps a watchful eye on you, knowing all you want is to just sleep. “Thanks, I owe you”, Sanemi tells her, walking her to the door. “She should be ok, but if her fever doesn’t break by tomorrow, bring her to my estate”, Shinobu says before she heads out. Sanemi makes his way back to you, taking note of your already sleeping form. He makes quick work, gathering the supplies he needs before he finds a comfortable position on the floor next to you. Sanemi spends the next several hours placing cool cloths against your forehead, willing the fever to break. His hard work pays off, as your fever breaks when the morning light spills through the window. Sanemi finally breathes a sigh of relief before gently kissing your forehead, careful to not wake you.

Iguro Obanai:

* Does his best for to care for you, but is a bit out of his comfort zone. Internally freaking out the whole time your sick

* Honestly probably just takes you to Shinobu cause he doesn’t want you to get worse. Even if it’s just a cold, he’s making sure you get seen

* Makes an effort to make tea and probably asks Mitsuri or someone else to help make you healthy food to help with your recovery

* Not afraid to cuddle or hold you if you want it. Feels like he can’t really do anything else, so he’s at least doing that

“Obi, can you cuddle me?”, you ask him hesitantly as you watch up pick up the tray of food you’d just finished eating. “Of course, everything ok?”, he asks you, worry in eyes. “Yes, I just…I just want to be held”, you say, looking up at him. “Of course, I’ll be right back”, he murmurs before quickly hurrying out of the room. Obanai is back in flash, slipping under the covers and pulling you to his chest. “Thanks”, you mutter, relaxing to the sound of his heartbeat. “It’s the least I could do, sleep, I’m not going anywhere”, he says before stroking your hair softly, lulling you to sleep.

Gyeomi Himejima:

* Honestly probably the most chill out of all the Hashira. At the first sign of your illness he’s telling you to get rest and to see Shinobu if you get worse

* Does not let you go on missions until you’re 100% better. Probably takes your missions on top of his until you can handle them yourself again

* Makes sure your well tended for. Makes your favorite tea and if he can’t be there to cuddle you, you best bet y’all’s cats are doing the job

* Doesn’t worry unless you are very sick. If you are he’s leaving you in Shinobu’s trusted care. Prays for your healthy recovery

You feel a tissue being placed into your hand after your big sneeze. “Thanks love”, you say before blowing your nose. “I think you should stay home tonight”, the Stone Hashira says as the two you sit down for dinner. “It’s just a cold I’ll be fine”, you tell him reassuringly, ignoring the ache in your back. “No, you stay home and rest, I’ll take care of your mission tonight”, Gyomei tells you with a soft but authoritative voice, which you know is his final decision. “Ok, thank you, truly”, you tell him, and he hears the gratitude in your voice. “No worries love, if that cough is not better by the morning please go see Shinobu”, he replies, hand finding yours. He squeezes it gently. “Ok, let’s eat”, you tell him, before focusing on your food, enjoying the peaceful dinner with your husband.

[astr0n0va1]

𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 - 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 - 𝟐

Previous parts Teaser Pt.1

I'm sorry about the wait and from now on ill post one or two parts a week. I had a really busy week and this chapter takes things a little slow but next chapter will be really good. Thank you for reading, liking, and reblogging. Enjoy <3 - Astr0n0va 2,207 words

The next morning you woke up feeling certain things. You hadn’t even fully woken up and you started thinking about Armando and the events of last night. As your mind created thoughts and fantasies with him you started to lead your hand down your waistband and past your panties. But then there was a knock at your door. You retrieved your hand and groaned before getting up.

You opened the door to find Kelly standing there with a toasted bagel topped with cream cheese and a cup of Orange juice.

“Morning Y/n do you have anything to tell me?” She asked, holding out your breakfast. 

But as you went for it she pulled it back before you could reach it. You looked at her and she raised her eyebrows telling you to tell her. You took a peak in the hallway making sure Armando wasn’t anywhere near. Then you fully opened the door and let her in.

“Fine, come in.” You said before shutting the door.

She handed you your breakfast and as you started eating she started talking.

“ Well, I don’t know I found it strange that when I woke up at like 11 at night to get some water I made my way to the kitchen but you weren’t there. So I thought she must be in her room, but when I checked you weren’t in there either. So where were you missy?” She asked before stealing a bite of your bagel.

“First of all I thought this was my breakfast, and you can’t tell anybody but I was washing dishes and Armando offered to help and we started building something. Then I was giving him the house tour and I was showing him the garage and he asked if he could bring his bike in, and I was like yeah. Then we kind of went on a little late-night ride. After that, we come back and obviously, I’m thanking him and he’s like anytime princess.” You explained.

When Kelly heard the last sentence her eyes went wide.

“ I didn’t think of him to be a little sweet talker.” She said while changing positions to get a better view of you.

“But that’s not all because then it was like 12 or 1 in the morning and I felt a little thirsty. So I make my way downstairs to get a water bottle and find him shirtless in some pajama pants also looking for water. So then I’m asking him what he’s doing up and all that. Ok so he ended up putting the water case in the fridge, and then as I’m walking upstairs he’s behind me. And then I’m like good night Armando, and he’s like a goodnight princess. When I tell you my heart was down to my ass at that very moment I mean it.” You before taking a drink of your orange juice, as the storytelling of your night made you thirsty.

“So are you going to fuck him?” Kelly asked shamelessly.

“When you say it like that it makes me sound like a slut.” You said while getting up to pick out your outfit for today.

“Oh I’m sorry do you plan to make love with him Y/n?” She said while putting quotation marks around making love.

“Thank you, but I don’t know. He works with me. It's not like I can have sex with him and then see him every other day and act like nothing happened. So I’m not sure what I’m doing with him yet.” You said while pulling out a bikini from your mini suitcase.

“Ok just be careful whatever you do. I don’t want to see you get hurt, especially by him.” She said while coming closer and looking at the clothes you had picked out.

“See now this is what I am talking about you need to show off your body more. It's a shame that you hide it underneath all those baggy tees and sweatpants.” She said while peaking through your bag.

“Okay Kelly message received, but about what I just told you please don’t tell anyone.” You said begging her.

“ I won’t trust me. But as of right now, you need to get ready so we can fucking go.” She said before placing a slap on your ass.

“owwwww Now I’m going to get you back for that bitch.” You said to her before she grabbed your cup and started to walk out of the room.

“ oh come on you know you like it princess.” She says trying to mock Armando.

You grab a pillow and quickly throw it at the door but she closes it before it can make contact.

After you showered you put on your red 2 piece bikini and threw on a pair of jean shorts and a crop top. You put your hair in a claw clip, apply your lotions, oils, and perfume, and then slip into your sandals and make your way downstairs.

On the couch sat Rafe, Dorn, and Armando on their phones. But as soon as you went to turn around Kelly was right coming down.

“Can we take your car Y/n?” Asked Kelly.

“Yeah, sure. But how many Jet skis did you rent?”

“I think 3.” She said while grabbing your keys.

“But there’s 5 of us.” You said questioning her choice.

“Yeah me and Dorn on one, Rafe on one, and it was supposed to be you and Rita on one but since she’s not here your choices are Armando or Rafe.” She said with a smirk.

“Ride with me Y/n.” Said Rafe with a wink.

“Rafe I value my life and my safety so no, I’m not riding with you.” You said while turning to him with a smile.

“Then you are riding with Armando.” Said Dorn, sending you a smirk from across the room.

“Are you okay with that Armando?” You asked him.

“Yeah.” He said with a nod.

“Okay then everyone grabs your stuff and we are leaving in Y/n’s car,” Kelly said while turning off some lights and walking into the garage.

You went and locked the back doors and the front door. This made you the last one in the car. When you got there you noticed Dorn in the driver seat and Kelly as the passenger, this left you to ride in between Armando and Rafe.

>>> skip to the beach

You and Kelly rented a locker to put your stuff in. And as you finished putting your purse and valuables in there you noticed Kelly taking off her clothes revealing her swimsuit.

“Why’d you take your clothes off now?” You asked her.

“Why wouldn’t you take them off now?” She asked while taking off her shoes and placing them in the locker.

You took the message and took off your shorts and your crop top leaving you in your red two-piece. You slid your shoes off and grabbed your glasses before walking out to the rental shack with her.

The guys eventually came and you all divided into your pairs. Then as you got your life vest you looked over to your assigned Jet ski and saw Armando waiting for you. He wore some black swim trunks leaving his toned chest out, and around his neck 2 layered gold chains. As you made your way over he kept his eyes on you as you walked towards him.

“Do you want to drive it first or do you want me to?” He asked.

“You can drive it because I don’t know how to.” You replied.

He then proceeded to get on and then you got on behind him. As he took off you re-adjusted yourself bringing yourself closer to him.

“You can’t put your arms around me I don’t bite.” He said with a small chuckle.

You looped your arms around him and as he took off speeding up you leaned your head on his back holding on to him firmly. After a few swerves and 10-15 minutes of riding Armando convinced you to try to drive it.

“You sure. I don’t want to flip us or anything.” You said while he got off and waited for you to scoot up.

“We will be fine, princess let’s go. I got you if anything.” He said while hopping in behind you.

You put your hands on the 2 handlebars and as soon as you are about to start applying pressure you feel Armando’s body come into contact with you, and his hands go over yours guiding the jet-ski.

Due to his body being bigger his hand just covered yours and helped you guide, and steer the Jet Ski in the right direction.

His scent was strong even though the smell of saltwater should have faded. You saw Keely and Dorn and steered their way with the help of Armando. Before you noticed Rafe was also coming in.

“Y/n how about a little race?” Asked Kelly.

“I don’t know I’m not…” you were cut off by Armando.

“To where?” Asked Armando.

“Rafe, go out,” Kelly said.

After that Rafe steered out about 1/4 mile out.

“What the fuck?” You said while looking back at Armando.

“It’s okay princess we got this just trust me.” He said tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

You swallowed hard and just looked forward again.

“So are we on 1/4 mile?” Asked Kelly.

“We’re on,” Armando replied.

“Alright then when Rafe gives the signal we go.” She said, adjusting herself as Dorn let out a nervous laugh.

“Guys it’s just a friendly race, don't forget that,” Dorn said trying to lower the competitiveness between Armando and Kelly.

“Yes please don’t forget.” You added.

Kelly and he brushed off you and Dorn’s comments and kept their focus on Rafe waiting for him to give the signal. When he did Armando applied pressure onto your hand making the jet ski go faster, this made you sink back into him the farther y’all got. 

Dorn and Kelly were a bit behind you guys but slowly catching up, so Armando decided to swerve the Jetski to get more water on them. So they would slow down and lose. 

But on the last swerve to get back into the side you were both originally on he ended up applying too much force. This caused the Jetski to flip.

Everything happened so fast that you didn’t realize when your body hit the water. The only thing you could acknowledge was that Armando had his arms around you. 

He pulled you up, helping you stay afloat and stay above water before he made his way to the Jetski and flipped back over trying to help you get on. He helped you push yourself up and back to the seat, and then he used his upper body strength to pull himself up. 

“You guys okay?” Says Dorn.

“I would have felt better if we would have won.” You replied.

“You almost drowned and you worried about winning.” Says Rafe while checking his phone.

“No first off my life vest saved me and Armando made sure I wasn’t underwater for a long time.” You said trying to make the situation better.

“Whatever, we have to go, we have to get ready for tonight. And we also have to eat.” Kelly said.

“Yeah, fine let’s go,” Rafe said before putting his phone in the seat compartment and steering off. Then Kelly and Dorn followed.

“Do you still want me to drive back to shore?” Armando asked you. You could feel some of the guilt through his words. 

“Yeah, so we should probably switch,” you said while trying to stand up and keep the Jetski balanced.

You both switched seats, sending him to the front and riding on the back. You wrapped your arms around him and he started steering to the shore. I decided to break the silence.

“Armando.” You said hoping he would respond. 

“Hmm?” He said, keeping his gaze to the front. 

“ You know it’s not your fault it happens to most of us it's ok.” You said as he slowed down as y’all came close to the shore. 

He still wouldn’t look at you or look your way. You got off of the jet ski and took off your life vest. He did the same while not looking at you. 

“Armando, can you take this back for me?” You asked, trying to force some type of interaction.

He nodded and you passed it to him and then grabbed his hand. He was now looking you in the eyes.

“Thank you for saving me out there.” You said. And then placed a small kiss near the corner of his mouth. 

You then walked off back to the locker to get your stuff, and Kelly eventually joined you.

“I saw what you did out there.” She said nudging you. 

“Yeah like you said I have to get out of my comfort zone a little bit more.” You replied with a small smile.

“Fuck, I think when we get to the house I’m taking a nap and then I’m going to get ready for the club,” Kelly said exhaustedly.

“Same because I just know it’s going to be a long night.”

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Taglist: @cardi-bre91, @believeinthefireflies95, @blackgirlmagicforever , @bootlegroach , @mentalidrainedfangirl , @lotusunique, @thesizzler , @marissa53115 , @yeahnohoneybye

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 14

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Your bleary-eyed sleep drapes over you like a shroud. You sleep sways between bouts of heavy blackness and shallow delirium. You’re vaguely aware of your unfamiliar surroundings even as you sink into the depths of your unconscious. The rustle of leaves and buzz of crickets outside the window blend with the vacuities of your dreams.

You shift; your arm painful as it’s caught beneath you. Your eyelids stay slitted as you move your weight off it and wiggle your fingers, the numbness painful your elbow throbs. The canopy drapes like shadows around the posts and the ceiling is fuzzy above you. Your eyes threaten to roll back again as your drowsiness has you heavy. 

The window casts shades of black and grey against the wall, a silverish blue tint hinting off the mirror. You babble, your throat and tongue prickly and dry, your temples thrumming. You groan as the feeling slowly seeps back into your arm. 

The open door draws your gaze. You move your head to the side to see past your shoulder. You blink and squint. You can’t quite see past your own fatigue. Is someone there? You swear there’s a figure, ghostly in your blurred sight. 

You close your eyes and something creaks, low and soft, as if the house is settling. You peek out beneath your lashes again. The shadow looms closer. It can’t be real. It doesn’t feel real. Your head lolls and you drift back into sleep. 

You wake again. You don’t know how long after. The blanket hangs over the edge of the bed, a cool breeze blowing in through the open window. You’re on your stomach, your arm dangling over the side with the covers.  

The coolness tickles your lower back and emphasizes the bareness of your skin. Your pajamas are low on your hips, the string undone. There’s a warmth nestled between your legs despite the goosebumps across the rest of your body. You roll onto your back, your shirt tangle up by your chest. It’s as if you’ve been thrashing in your sleep. 

The door is open. Not just a little. All the way. 

Your body is achy. You reach to pull the blankets off the floor. As you wrap yourself in them, you feel a wet spot on the sheet. You recoil and feel around your pants. You wouldn’t have had an accident. Maybe... oh no. 

You sit up and set your feet. It takes effort to stand. Your hips hurt and your crampy. It must be your period. 

You cross the room and turn on the light. You shut the door and pull down your pajamas. No blood. You touch yourself gently, delving meekly between your folds. They’re wet and swollen, tender even, but no blood on your fingers. You’ve woken like this before. You know it’s just... your biology. Still, it feel different, more than the usual discharge. 

You shuffle back to the bed and check the sheet. There’s definitely something on it but you don’t know what it is. It seems too far down to be drool. Sweat? You peel apart the quilt and the sheet and heap the latter on the corner of the bed. You shut off the light and lay back down. 

Despite your addled nerves, it doesn’t take much to get back to sleep. You wake only as the tweeting of birds punctures your subconscious. You groan and a gentle tap comes on the door frame. The door is already open as Steve stands in the frame. 

“Uh, morning,” he says, “just checking if you wanted some coffee?” 

You lift your head and stare at him. You sit up and hug yourself, pulling your shirt away from your chest as it clings to your shape. You try to shake the sleep away and wipe your eyes. 

“If it’s okay, yes please,” you answer in a croak. 

“Sure thing, sweetie,” he grips the frame and smiles. He only wears a pair of grey sweatpants and a muscle shirt. The top exposes his muscular arms and the side of his chest and ribcage. The neckline is unhemmed and gives a generous view of the top of his pecs. “Anything else you need?” 

“No thanks,” you scratch your throat and turn your legs over the edge of the bed. 

“You like waffles? French toast? I’ll make a good breakfast for you and your mom before you head out,” he offers. 

“I think that’s okay,” you stand and cross your arms. “Is my mom awake?” 

“I haven’t checked yet,” he says, “I let her have the bed to herself. She was really tired...” he gives a coy look, “and she snores.” 

“Ah, yeah, okay,” you look at him awkwardly. 

“You wanna wash up? Shower’s just down the hall,” he points over his shoulder with his thumb, “I can grab you a towel.” 

“I’ll wait until I get home but uh, could I use the bathroom?”  

“Yep, just down the hall on the right. I’m going to put the coffee on then come back to get your mom, okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree, slowly crossing the room. 

He turns and strides off. You wait until he’s down stairs to go out in the hall. The bedroom across from his studio, the one you assume is meant for him, is shut. You turn right and find the bathroom. 

You lock the door and rinse your face with cold water, trying to ease the tension in your forehead. You sit on the toilet, a tingly heat seeping from you as you let your bladder go. You linger, letting your pee trickle out as you hear Steve coming back up the stairs. You quickly wipe and pull up your pants. 

You wash your hands slowly, listening through the wall. You hear the door then Steve calls your mom’s name. You look at yourself in the mirror. Something feels strange. You don’t know if it was the surreal night or just being in a different place. 

You come out into the hall and see Steve in the bedroom, just by the half-open door. His face is pale as he holds his phone to his ear. He sees you and raises his hand, waving before he gently closes the door. What’s going on? 

You stand there, uncertain, uneasy. Something’s going on. You hear his voice, the tone is tremulous. You pick your nails but you’re too nervous to knock and ask. You don’t want to overstep. You stand stuck in place, unsure what to do next. 

Then you hear the sirens. They’re distant at first but get louder and louder. You turn to the stairs and rush down as they get closer. You go to the front door and unlock it. You open it as the ambulance stops right outside. 

You watch the paramedics as they unload a gurney and roll it up the walk. It has to be a mistake. There's no reason for them to be here. 

They come right up the porch, “miss, someone called us from this address?” 

“They did?” You bat your lashes. 

“Please, move,” the man says but not unkindly, just matter-of-fact, “we need to get inside.” 

You step back and hold the door open. They carry the gurney upstairs and your heart shrivels up. You follow them to the second floor and they enter the main bedroom where Steve is. Where your mom is. You can hear their voices as they talk calmly and Steve’s as he tries frantically to explain. 

“I don’t know... she was sleeping in here last night. She was fine. I put her to bed and I slept on the couch since she was snoring and... she won’t wake up. I tried to... I tried. I felt a pulse but she’s not responding--” 

“Sir, we got it. Why don’t you go catch your breath?” A man says. 

“I’m sorry, I usually... I’m not like this. I was in the army, I know... I know CPR--” 

“It’s okay, sir, just let us get her out of here. We’ll take care of her,” the paramedic says. 

Your eyes fill with tears. The world around you dulls and static scratches in your ears. Steve comes out as your lips part and you gape at him dumbly. He comes to you, touching your arm as his voice garbles in your fuzzy brain. You blink at his chest and suddenly, you’re pressed against it. 

He hugs you tightly as he rocks you. You hear his heart racing. Or is that yours? 

You sniffle, too weak to pull away from him, “is my mom okay?” 

He pets your head and coos, “I don’t know, sweetie, but they’re gonna help her, alright? She’s going to the hospital.” 

“Hospital,” you echo numbly. “Hospital?” 

[violentdelights-violentendss]

How about BSD men when you're sick with a cold? (Totally not cause i have one rn lmaoo) I love your work btw <3

Thank you sm! And ofc! Hope you like this!!! (same, I was sick this whole week 😞😞 hope you get better soon)

(This is part 1. Part 2 with the rest of the members will come shortly!!!! I decided to slip it so at least one half of it was out…I think I might start doing this in the future to be able to post more frequently! Btw, I have seen all your requests and currently working on them!!!! Please keep requesting! I love every single one of them!)

BSD Men When Reader Is Sick With a Cold (P.1)

In this post: 🌹 Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Rampo, 🌹

Pairing: Fem!reader/BSDMen

Synopsis; How would the BSD Men act when you have a cold.

Yukichi Fukuzawa

Fukuzawa, being the president of the Armed Detective Agency is a responsible person. The minute he notices you’re feeling sick, he takes care of you so well, he almost rivals Yosano. He makes sure that you take all your medications, constantly checking your temperature, and will not make you lift a single finger. You are his sick princess; you stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. If you ask for anything, he would rush to get it for you. With Fukuzawa’s love and great, responsible care, you overcame your cold very quickly.

“Where is (Y/N)?” His voice cut through the thick fog in your mind, sounding distant and echoing loudly. You winced, peeking open your eyes. Reality felt dreamlike; you saw Fukuzawa walk towards you, the view of your boyfriend slanted, as you were lying on the surface of the table in the conference room. You had hoped to refresh the burning hellfire that crackled in your mind, but with no avail.

“My dear,” Fukuzawa sighed, sitting down next to you. “You should go home.” He chided, pressing a large hand to your forehead. Your elevated temperature made his usually calm face grow worried. “You’re burning…you’re going home.”

You tried to protest, feebly gripping his arm to hold him back, but the worried glance Fukuzawa threw at you, seeing you pale, burning, nothing could convince him to make you stay at work.

You closed your eyes, your illness draining you far too much to remain awake. Every sound echoed in your ears, hurting your already weakened head.

When you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself in your apartment, and only vaguely remembered Atsushi bringing you home. Fukuzawa would have done so himself if he didn’t have a crucial meeting with a politician he could not avoid.

You dragged yourself to bed, too tired to change, only falling in your futon. Morpheus immediately pulled you under, dragging you to the depths of a dreamless sleep.

You opened your eyes suddenly, feeling a presence next to you even through your agitate sleep. Your eyes had to concentrate more than usual to focus on reality, ironing what was blurry, before you noticed the presence was Fukuzawa.

“Shh…I’m here, my love,” he whispered in your ear, adjusting the covers around you to make sure you weren’t exposed to any cold air. You immediately calmed down, snuggling against his chest. “Take this before you sleep,” Fukuzawa whispered, slipping two pills inside your mouth. You swallowed, knowing they were probably medication to reduce your fever.

You conked out right after, vaguely remembering finding it difficult to fall into deep sleep. You only found peace when Fukuzawa wrapped you in his arms, caressing your head.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed. You sat up, pressing a hand to your forehead. You sighed in relief when you realized your temperature had gone down, but you still felt under the weather, your eyes burning, and your throat itchy. You glanced at Fukuzawa’s empty spot, wondering where he could have gone.

Almost sensing your thoughts, your boyfriend walked inside your room, carrying a mug of delicious warm milk with honey. “Good morning, sweetheart.” He cooed, seeing you sniffle sadly, clearly not happy you were sick. “I made this for you.” He handed the mug to you, making sure you didn’t burn yourself holding it.

“Yukichi, I don’t like being sick.” You whined, leaning against his side when he sat down next to you.

“I know, darling, but you have to rest to get better. And not stoically push through it like you were doing yesterday.” He chided softly, urging you to drink milk. You pouted, knowing he was right.

You couldn’t help but feel sadness crawl on your face, when you realized you wouldn’t be able to spend your few days off having fun with your partner, who you already saw too little of.

Fukuzawa realized, and to try and bring back the sparkle of happiness on your face, even amid a sore threat and runny nose, he leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Would you wish to watch a movie?”

As he had hoped, a smile brightened your face, and you almost jumped up in joy, Fukuzawa’s hand blocking you from doing so, afraid you would topple over sick. “Can we watch a romcom?”

“Whatever you desire, my love.”

The two of you cuddled in bed, using your laptop to watch your favorite romcom. You could have not been happier, snuggling underneath the covers with your perfect boyfriend, and Fukuzawa also enjoyed spending some time with you, peppering a series of kisses on your face every time the characters kissed on scene.

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo is…interesting when you are sick. It’s one of the few times he shuts down, and does not know what to do, or how to react. For once, the genius detective feels lost. When he realizes you’re sick, his first reaction is disgust, and worry that you could infect him, and then he freezes when he realizes you, his beloved (Y/N), is sick. Panic infects his body, and he just..crashes. It takes a few seconds for his heart to calm down, and to regain the composure on his face. All of his panic runs behind his face, only visible through his emerald green eyes to whomever knows him very well. The moment he has calmed down, he takes control, even if the fear of messing up and making you even sicker haunts his mind. Ranpo cures you slightly chaotically, forgetting to give you medicine and then remembering late at night, but he tries his best, and succeeds in making you feel better, inevitably being exhausted by the time you are no longer sick. Now it’s your turn to take care of him.

“Where is (Y/N)?” Ranpo asked, sulking at his deck, his lips wrapped around a vanilla lollipop as his green eyes scanned the office, noticing your absence.

“She took a day off.” Kunikida replied, not lifting his gaze from his computer.

“She didn’t tell you?” Dazai asked as he spun around in his chair, accidentally kicking Kunikida’s leg and then rolling away when his partner got mad.

Ranpo shook his head, sucking on his lollipop pensively. “Nope…I wonder why,” he thought aloud. You were his girlfriend, and always told him everything. He didn’t know why you didn’t tell him today that you wouldn’t be going. He knew you knew he preferred when you were in the office, brightening his day by just caressing his hand when you walked by, busy working.

When you were not there, Ranpo usually took the day off with you, doing whatever you had needed to be doing. For a second, Ranpo’s rapid mind jumped to the unrealistic thought that you might be cheating on him, but he quickly threw the idea away, not even considering it.

But the lack of knowledge irked Ranpo, and he didn’t feel like rummaging through his pocket to find his glasses to use Ultra Deduction. Instead, Ranpo tapped on his phone for a few minutes, calling your number.

The wait felt excruciatingly long, and he only focused onto the rhythmic beeping, completely ignoring Kunikida choking Dazai.

“Hello?” You answered, your voice strangely nasally and lower than usual.

“(Y/N)!” Ranpo called sadly, pouting. “Why did you not tell me you were taking a day off? I could come over and cuddle in bed with you,” he whined, throwing the finished lollipop in the bin.

You sighed: you had hoped you could escape telling your adorable boyfriend that you were sick. He always panicked, and exhausted himself while he took care of you, and you didn’t feel like draining his energies for a menial cold. But of course, nothing ever went the way you had intended it to, still feeling a little smugness lift your lips into a smile: Ranpo had noticed your absence almost immediately.

“I’m sick,” you explained. Almost to provide you with ironclad evidence, your throat started itching uncomfortable, and you coughed for a few seconds.

When your words registered in Ranpo’s head, he froze. His eyes went unfocused, and his phone almost slid out of his grasp. An avalanche of thoughts flooded his mind, the most common theme, fear and worry. Extreme fear for you, and worry because he didn’t know how to care for you; both feelings battled in his chest, a conflicting tsunami that only rendered his green eyes duller.

“Ranpo?” You asked, your voice rough after your coughing fit, but the silence on the other end of the line scared you more.

“I’m coming over.” Was the curt reply you got.

“Wait, what? Ranpo, no you’ll get sick — and he hung up.” You sighed, placing the phone back next to you, and waiting for Ranpo to barge in through your door.

It took a good thirty minutes, but your prediction came true. Opening with his copy of the key, Ranpo flew in, his arms decorated by various bags filled with medicines. “I’m here!” He gasped, his chest heaving.

“Ranpo, did you run?!” You croaked, trying to get out of bed and hold Rampo before he inevitably collapsed.

“No, of course not.” He replied, blatantly lying. He gently pushed you back down on the bed, climbing in after you. He emptied out all bags in the center of the bed, and you widened your eyes in shock at the medium sized pile that formed on your duvet.

“Oh my god…that’s enough medicine for a lifetime,” you whispered. You did, however, feel very loved, as you watched Ranpo rummage through the pile, trying to find a specific packet. This man, who hated exercise, had run around multiple pharmacies to try and find one that would make you feel better. Your heart melted into your chest, almost making your tired eyes teary. You gently clasped his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

Ranpo barely noticed, digging frantically. “Here it is!” He exclaimed victoriously shoving a small, blue box into your hands. “This is the best one for sore throats, apparently.” He said, a proud smile loitering on his face.

You opened it, downing the pills with some water. “Thank you, Ranpo,”

“Am I the best boyfriend or what?”

“You certainly are.”

Ranpo’s smile grew, and his cheeks darkened by a few shades: receiving praise from you was on the same level as receiving praise from the president from him. “Now, they said sleep helps as well, so we should sleep.” Ranpo declared, hurriedly placing all the medications on your bed side table, before dragging himself underneath the covers, and snuggling against you.

You laid your head on his chest, already feeling your throat become less irritated, letting you exhale peacefully. Ranpo fell asleep before you, his rhythmic breathing becoming your lullaby. As felt your eyes go droopy, and your mind quiet down, resembling a calm mountain spring, you could not help but think that you truly had gotten the best boyfriend in the world.

That claim was instantly withdrawn when you were shaken awake at 3 in the morning by a sleep-drunk Ranpo, who suddenly remembered you had to take another medicine in while talking that one. You sighed, but after all, it meant Ranpo truly loved you, and that was more than enough for you.

Doppo Kunikida

Kunikida is a man of rules, and ideals, and he tries to follow his life bound by his self-imposed rules. He has a specific page on his notebook dedicated to the procedure to follow when he, or you, go down with a cold. But his ideals, and rules get thrown down the drain when you actually have a cold. Like Ranpo, Kunikida freezes, but not because he does not know what to do, but because he wants to do everything in his power to make you feel better. Seeing you sick, and coughing makes his heart ache, and is what pushes him out of his brief moment of panic. Kunikida writes down your symptoms in his notebook, and goes out on a hunt to find the best medication. He will then take care of you lovingly, but also strictly, not letting you get out of bed, or miss some medications because you say you feel better. A small part of him will also be blaming himself for allowing you to get sick, even if he can’t protect you from everything. Kunikida will, however, always remain by your side, not caring of the perpetual danger of falling ill as well: he can’t leave you alone when you’re sick. You’ll be wrapped in his arms at all times, and that is one of the best aspects of being taken care of by Kunikida.

Kunikida was typing on his computer, filling a report that, initially, had been Dazai’s. He noticed movement from the corner of his eyes, noticing you slumping in the chair next to his.

“Kunikida,” you called, gently tapping on his desk to get his attention.

“Yes, darling?” He asked, still typing on his computer.

“Do I feel a little warm to you?”

Kunikida looked up from his computer immediately after hearing your words. He instantly stood up, walking towards you. Your health always took priority on his work.

You did look paler, and more tired, Kunikida thought, as he pressed his hands on your forehead. “You’re a little warm,” he sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Unfortunately, I cannot go home with you right now.” Kunikida said, hurriedly looking through his notebook, snapping it closed in anger.

You waved your hand. “Don’t worry, Kuni, I’ll just go home by myself.” You tried standing up, but Kunikida gently pushed you back down on the chair.

“I can’t let you go home alone. You’ll stay here, and I’ll take care of you while I work.” Kunikida declared, picking you up in his arms.

“Darling, I don’t feel that sick…and taking care of me while you work will just exhaust you more than you already are!” You tried protesting, as your boyfriend gently laid you down on the couch in the Armed Detective Agency office.

“Taking care of you will never exhaust me.” Kunikida grumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. He took his jacket draped on the back of his chair and covered you with it, returning to his desk to continue working.

Throughout the day, Kunikida walked over to your half conscious, half sleeping form on the couch, taking your temperature, and bringing you cups of water to drink. Kunikida also gave you various medicines that he had quickly popped out to buy on his break.

Various times you caught him glancing at you with worry, feeling that he was not doing enough to take care of you. You also saw him intensely research which medication to give you, also going as far as calling Yosano (it was her day off) to ask her what she thought would be the best course of action.

Lying on the couch, slipping in out of sleep, you felt enveloped by the warmth of your boyfriend’s love, who took care of you efficiently even while he was working.

You slowly woke a few hours later, noticing that the bright sunlight had been replaced by the lukewarm colors of the sunset, and the agency was empty, only Kunikida remaining, sitting at his desk. His hair shone like golden strands in the light, and his grey eyes resembled pieces of melted starlight.

You pushed yourself up, noticing your fever had gone. Your throat was still itchy, and your nose still clogged, but you felt better, overall. You slipped Kunikida’s jacket on, walking quietly towards him. You leaned over his shoulder, caressing his cheek, your two shadows intertwined on the floor.

Kunikida turned to glance at you, surprised. “Do you feel better, sweetheart?” He asked, turning to face you, immediately pressing his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

You leaned into his touch, nodding happily. “All thanks to you, my perfect doctor,” you cooed, sliding down in his lap. Kunikida turned a fiery red, looking away.

“(Y/N), this is highly inappropriate!” He squeaked, although his hands tentatively went to wrap around your waist.

“Oh, come on: no one else is here. It’s not like we’re fucking in public.” You joked, panicking when you heard Kunikida choke on his spit. You laughed, gently slapping him on his broad back. “Ah, what should I do with you?” You asked, peppering kisses on his jaw.

“Kiss me properly,” Kunikida said quietly, seemingly having abandoned the war cry of propriety.

You laid your head on his shoulder, admiring his sharp features that were only accentuated by the dying sunlight that slid through the large windows. “I can’t, Kuni, I’ll get you sick.”

Kunikida looked at you in silence for a second, also admiring your face, his eyes zoning in on your lips. You saw the internal struggle reflected clearly on his eyes, a dueling waltz between his love for you and his ideals.

“Oh to hell,” he croaked, before diving down to press a passionate kiss to your lips, even going as far as to slide his tongue inside your mouth.

Your eyes widened in shock, but you quickly responded, threading your hands through his hair. Kunikida slowly pulled back after a few minutes, both of you panting for hair and grasping onto each other. Kunikida turned even redder when he noticed a small string of saliva glittering between the two of you. He pressed his forehead against yours: “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh! How cute!” Dazai called suddenly, waltzing into the room.

Kunikida never fainted so fast before in his life.

Atsushi Nakajima

Atsushi would know what to do, probably having to take care of his fellow orphans. But he will do everything with an underlining panic he will try to hide for your sake, but that you will inevitably notice because he’s soaking in sweat, even if it’s winter. It’s because he worries so much; anxiety crawls inside his body, and he almost dies on the spot. But once you reassure him that it’s just a common cold, his heart will stop running a marathon and he will calm down. Atsushi takes care of you with love, as well as diligence, sleeping lightly to make sure you’re sleeping well. He’ll make you take warm baths, helping you get out and in, and will cook you whatever you want.

When Atsushi had waltzed into your shared apartment, excited to take you out on a date, his heart had dropped to his stomach when he saw you bundled up in your futon, trembling.

“A-Atsushi!” You called, your voice nasally. You opened your arms, looking like a scarecrow draped in duvets and covers.

“What happened?” Your sweet jinko boyfriend asked, worry evident in his furrowed brows as he knelt next to you, tucking the covers back around your body to make sure no draft would touch your skin.

“Got a cold from my last mission,” you mumbled, sniffling. “Walking around the countryside drenched in cold, mountain water was not a smart idea.”

“You did what?!” Atsushi stared at you, even more worried because you had walked around for god knows how long shivering in the icy air. You smiled sheepishly. Atsushi sighed, exasperated, pressing one of his hands to your forehead, relieved that you seemed to have only a slight fever. But your shivers were worrying his already panic-stricken heart.

“I’ll make you some soup.” He started getting up, but you grabbed his loose tail and tugged back onto the futon.

“No…warm me up! You’re always so warm!” You whined.

“I’ll do that after I make you the soup, okay, love?” Atsushi asked, gently persuading you to let go of his belt.

You pouted, reluctantly letting go. Your face suddenly brightened. “What if you order pizza!”

“No! That’s not what you need right now!” Atsushi called from the kitchen, scolding you gently. You sighed, dropping back into the covers.

Your caring boyfriend soon walked out of the kitchen, holding a steaming bowl in his hands, his eyes fixated on the quivering soup that danced threateningly close to the edge, teasing to suddenly overflow.

Atsushi placed it down in front of, a sigh of relief rushing out of his lips. You giggled, eyeing the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead out of concentration. You reached down to grab the spoon. You blinked, and the spoon was gone, now tightly held in Atushi’s grasp.

“Absolutely not. I’m feeding you.” He said, deciding to ignore your questioningly raised eyebrow. “And I’m not exaggerating.”

You decided to stay quiet, and simply enjoy the care your boyfriend was enveloping you in, relishing in the joy of being loved. You obediently swallowed down the warm and delicious soup, noticing how it smoothed out the irritation in your throat. “It’s delicious, ‘Sushi,” You said, in between spoonfuls.

Atushi’s cheeks turned red, and he grinned shyly, playing around with the remaining soup in the bowl. “I’m a good cook, aren’t I?” You threw your arms around him, nuzzling your nose against his.

“The best cook.” Atsushi beamed back at you, kissing the tip of your nose as he put the bowl down.

Lazily, you trailed your hand down his chest, feeling his solid muscles underneath. An idea suddenly came to you, and a lazy grin spread on your lips. “Baby, I’m cold.” You whined.Your hand, who had momentarily stopped on his stomach, restarted its journey, slowing sliding down to to his crotch.

Atsushi, who had been resting his head against yours, pulled back to look at you, worry evident in his eyes. “You’re cold…— (Y/N), WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He gasped in surprise when he felt your warm hand on his dick, his breath getting stuck in his throat.

“Thanking the cook for the delicious dish!”

“A-Absolutely not! You’re sick! No!” He stammered, his eyes wide and panicked, his hand immediately clasping yours and gently pushing you back down in the bed, tucking the covers around you, restricting your movements: Atsushi knew he couldn’t resist you for long, and needed to prevent your hands to linger on his body before he got a hard-on.

“Atsushi! What the fuck?!”

“You need to rest. Doing what you wanted to do is not resting.” Atsushi stumbled and tripped over his words, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. You huffed, rolling your eyes. Atsushi glanced at you, playing with his fingers. “If you’re better tomorrow then maybe…” He quietly trailed off, defeated by the small pout that lingered on your face. You immediately perked up, smirking at him. “B-but only if you feel better!”

“I’ll sleep right away and get all the rest in the world so I feel better immediately!” You giggled, lying comfortably down in bed.

Atsushi sighed, a small smile on his lips, knowing that his heart truly belonged to you. He quickly slipped underneath the covers, holding you in his arms to suppress the shivers that had suddenly returned. You soon fell asleep, and Atsushi stayed awake a few more minutes, making sure you weren’t uncomfortable, before letting himself be pulled to sleep. But not too deep of a slumber: he had to make sure you, his treasure, his princess slept fine throughout the night. He was ready to sacrifice his sleep for that.

[redactedrem]

You know what? Fuck you. *Ponifies Batman*

Guys I'm so excited to share my newest project of ponifying the Batfam, it started out small with the hypothetical "I wonder what Batman would be like in a mlp universe." And then the project kept getting bigger and bigger.

If anyones interested in my world building/ headcanons surrounding this project, you can see it under the cut. (I didn't want to make the post too long.)

Incase anybody couldn't read my bad handwriting, I gotchuuu.

-(First pic) Bruce Wayne: Bruce had got his cutiemark the night of his parents death, after the grief had broken his spirit and he realized that he never wanted anypony else to feel the same pain as he does. (He has a fake cutiemark to cover up his obvious destiny)

- The first pic is pretty self explanatory, but I want to make it clear that Bruce's destiny isn't "My parents are dead so now I dress up as a bat and beat up mentally ill folk". Because I've seen people on here give hot takes on cutiemarks that directly link them to a ponies destiny.

This goes for specifically in the mlp fandom but (for the sake of being on topic) I'll use the the example of that one post where someone gave the hot take that Jason would get his cutiemark in the warehouse right before he dies (or after he dies? smthing like that) because "It would be really fucked up to know that you were always destined to die." And listen, I can appreciate some good Jason Todd whump as the next guy but knowing that this would be based in a mlp universe . . . just doesn't sit right with me.

It sounds less magical that way. Its like saying that Rainbow Dash was always meant to be the fastest flyer, so theres no point in trying to compete with her. So uhm, trying to stay on topic here. My personal hot take is that a pony's cutiemark is symbol of something that they do/ a skill or talent that they have that makes them happy. And whats a more magical and fulfilling destiny than doing something that makes you happy for the rest of your life?

Looping back to Bruce, he didn't get his cutiemark the moment his parents died, but I like to think that he got it sometime later on in the night. After hours of being checked on by the police, getting looked at by the paramedics, and after Alfred took him home. Its 1:40ish in the morning and tiny foal-Bruce is just staring at his bedroom wall feeling numb and dissociated to hell. And sometime after processing everything that night- he just decides that this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him and that he will do anything to make sure that nopony will ever feel the same pain that he has felt. And then-- Ta da!! Cutiemark!! Too bad neither he or Alfred got to experience the excitement when they both saw it the next day :')

(Edit: I didn't know where to put this detail, but Bruce's fake cutiemark is based off of the "Make It Wayne" TV logo from this fanfic here )

-(Second pic) The Bat: This is heavily inspired by Flutterbat, I know theres canonically already a race of bat ponies made from Lunas stunt as Nightmare Moon. But I chose to go through with the Flutterbat route because batponies are a race, and have bat-like features 24/7. In comparison Fluttershy maintains her pegasus appearance by day and transforms into Flutterbat at night (ALSO with there being implications that there are "Triggers" for her transformations in the day too!!) Which adds the "Vampire." right in front of her batpony title.

I might do a lil comparison chart between vampire batponies and regular batponies in the future or something. But for now I'm focusing on my batpony Bruce Wayne headcanons so yea. My point is that I felt like making Bruce a "vampire" batpony would give him a more solid secret identity with also the bonus of a really metal origin story.

Now we all know that the canonical origin story of batman is that a few months after the tragedy of his parents death, Bruce had fallen into a cave? a well? a pit? of bats and triggered a fear of bats since then. Later on he decides to become Batman so he can invoke the fear of bats he once had into the criminals of Gotham. Yadda yadda yadda.

Now canonically, we don't know the exact science on how Fluttershy turned into Flutterbat. What we do know is that at the time, pony magic is not researched enough for Twilight to be aware that Fluttershys "Stare" is her own form of pony magic and that it would interfere with Twilights spell.

Do you see where I'm getting at here? Uhmm don't ask me what exactly happened in the cave, I'm doing this for fun and thinking about it too hard makes me spiral. But uhmm something something- Bruce looked at a bat in the eye and decided to embrace his biggest fear to fuel his cause, and his already traumatized and fucked up pony magic had transformed his body- something something. (Edit: I didn't think about this until now but maybe Fluttershys "Stare" and Bruces "Bat Glare" could be a usage of the same form of magic? Just a thought)

I'll probably come up with a more suitable explanation in the future, but like I said. All of this is just for fun.

[jamiebluewind]

Warning! Pet illness, xray

A friend of mine a few states away had a pregnant female cat walk onto her porch and decide she lives now. She had 3 kittens. Since my friend/roommate @winterpower98 was looking for her first cat, we (other roommate/bestie, Winter/Gaia, and I) decided to take a trip down to visit and see if one of the kittens would work for her.

The thing is, she did fall in love with one! He's black with white markings, so the 6 year old had been calling him Eclipse. He's, curious, playful, and always trying to get into something. He loves Gaia. I mean LOVES her. And she loves him. Like... emptying her savings loves him.

Right before we arrived, our friend noticed a little lump on his belly. They thought nothing of it. And then, it got bigger. And bigger. And bigger.

After a week, we took him to a local vet to get checked out. He had a umbilical hernia. Luckily it stopped before his diaphragm, but the hernia was severe enough that he would need surgery to close it (a lot of articles talked about smaller ones closing on their own which is why we waited). He would also need special care for IBS symptoms and to keep his hernia from getting injured or obstructed before repair (which couldn't happen until he was big enough to go under anesthesia). He would need to come indoors for his safety and be separated from the others as his sisters pouncing on the hernia was causing issues (a week earlier than the 8 week mark).

I was honestly expecting Gaia to say it was too much for her to handle. Even told her that nobody would judge her for not being ready for that level of responsibility. That we could find an organization that could take him and get him the help he needed and find him a good home. He has two sisters she could consider, there were plenty of shelters back home with cats under a year old, and we could even check the town we were visiting and places on the way back home, so there were options. I knew how much it took to care for a kitten with health issues (my current cat required months of specialized care and there were plenty of scares along the way) and Gaia has no previous experience with cats outside of hanging out with our cats, so that's just starting on hard mode.

After a long serious talk on the responsibilities she was about to take on, she said she knew it would be hard but the thought of giving him up made her sick. That she would do whatever it took to give him a happy life for however long she has him. We aren't rich people, she's going back to college full time, she had only decided on him over one of his sisters that morning, and (again) this would be the first cat she has ever had. She went all in without a second thought.

The original quotes from various vets willing to do the surgery (not all vets can) were pretty insane, but luckily I found a non-profit that did the surgery for about half. My other roommate and I fully support her and chipping in what we can.

Eclipse is 8 week old and his surgery is scheduled in a month, but we are going to call in and check for cancelations since he's reached the minimum weight and age for anesthesia. Winter has been so busy caring for him that she's not had a chance to post about him, so I decided to do it on the drive home. I think the story is important because it raises awareness about an issue most don't know about and shows someone genuinely caring about a pet with special needs. As a disabled person who's went through a lot of ableism and survived abuse, it really hit me to see how much she loves him with her whole chest and doesn't ever approach his issues with anger or blame.

I don't ask for reblogs much, but I wanted to ask you guys to boost this. I linked Gaia's PayPal below if anyone wants to help take some of the financial burden off her, but you can also support her with messages and boosting this and her future post/s about Eclipse (cut her some slack guys, she's currently in tired new mom mode). I don't expect anyone to donate because I know you guys are mostly in the same shape as us, but I think showing Gaia support is just as important.

Now if you'll excuse me, the hyperactive boy got the zoomies and just jumped in the toilet XD

Edit: Late thing to add on, but a few days after posting this my other roommate/bestie Sarah decided to adopt his sister! Her name is Melanite, but her honey eyes have earned her the nickname Miel. Her and Eclipse have always been very close (often laying on top of each other), so it's great that they'll get to stay together.

[1000roughdrafts]

Just Another Day

Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Warnings: some language (like 2-3 words), light mentions of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Not betad, all mistakes are my own 😊 and bear with me, I’m a little rusty 🥰 happy love day 🥰

Valentine's Day has never really been a favorite of mine, let alone anything I'd consider more than 'just a day'. Hell, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, even birthdays are all just 'another day' for me. It's kind of difficult not to harbor ill feelings about them after constantly being let down by the people in my life, one broken promise after another.

Dean and Sam have kept every promise they've made, though. In fact, they're managing to break down my walls bit by bit from stolen candy on Halloween to a fried chicken meal with beer on Thanksgiving all while living in cheap motels chasing monsters. When I told them this morning that I just wanted to hunt as usual for the day, I couldn't help but to feel a tad disappointed that they agreed. Bit by bit, I'm breaking my own rules about not getting my hopes up on holidays.

This is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I've known Dean long enough to know that chocolate and flowers aren't exactly his style. But I can count on him to bring me a piece of pie "just because" or he'll clean my weapons for me after a particularly grueling hunt because he knows all I want to do is shower and get in bed.

After a long day of exorcising demons, we are on the road again. Burnin' For You by Blue Oyster Cult plays low on the radio, but the clattering of rain on the roof has my full attention. Sam loudly rifles through the papers in his lap with one hand, flashlight held in the other, hesitant to ever let himself relax. Dean's eyes flicker between the road and the rear-view mirror to periodically check on me.

"Hey, you seem off today, you okay?" Dean asks, picking up on my vacant eyes and slight frown.

I suck in a breath, inhaling the scent of the Black Ice air freshener and a hint of stale whiskey, "yeah," I say curtly, keeping my eyes on the trees swaying in the wind as we drive past, lit only by the moon above us. The wind howls against the windows of the Impala, sneaking in and covering my skin with goosebumps.

His face scrunches a bit and he nods before the tick of the blinker signals that he's turning off the highway. I feel a twinge of discomfort knowing we're only minutes away from the motel now. As much as I hate the numbness I feel in my butt and thighs, there is something meditative about being a passenger on a long drive.

We pass an abandoned gas station before I can see the dim lights of the Wandering Inn. Dean parks us by the front desk, leaving the Impala to run with a soft purr as he gets us a key to a room. Neither Sam nor I take our time getting the bags together, so by the time Dean is back out and we find a parking spot near the room, we're ready to head in.

The door whines as Dean pushes it open, immediately palming the peeling wall for a light switch. The overhead light flickers a few times before settling on a weak glow, and before I can even shut the door behind us, the smell of burnt dust and old pledge assaults my nose. I glance around the small room. The musky yellow walls seem to make it feel even smaller, somehow.

Dean turns to me with outstretched arms and a smile, asking for my bags. I dutifully and sleepily hand them over, not realizing the weight they bared until the relief of their absence waves over me. Dean nods his head towards the bathroom, "ladies first on a shower," he says softly. His boots click on the tile as he walks over to toss our bags onto the bed, plopping down next to them to remove his boots.

In a few short strides I head over to grab my bag for the bathroom, stopping in front of him to plant a kiss on his forehead. His eyes, droopy and half-closed, look up at me in a smile. He places his hands my back, thumbs rubbing circles on my skin as he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Thanks for first shower, Dean," I say, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise and fall before he says, "yeah, well, by the looks of it, you need it more than we do tonight."

My ear to ear smile is real, but I fake a laugh before pulling away. "Whatever," I say, but I slowly lose my smile on the way to my shower. Dean's ability to pick up on even the most subtle of changes in me are a testament to how great of a hunter he is, and even greater boyfriend. How he can't pick up on how torn I'm feeling about this wretched day I've no idea. What conflicts me further is that I know it's my responsibility to share these feelings with him. Dean may have an attention to detail I haven't seen in a partner in, well, ever, but he's not a mind reader.

The tile of the bathroom is cold under my feet, so I remove my shirt to stand on it while I wait for the water to heat up. I hear the guys shuffling and moving things in the room, keeping their voices hush, but I'm too tired to give a shit. Waving a hand under the water I decide that it's the perfect temperature and remove the rest of my clothes to get in.

I don't even realize how tense I am until the water hits my shoulders, nearly forcing me to relax under it. My body's reflexes take over and I go into autopilot as I think about today and Valentine's Day is already almost over, but we did nothing… at my request. I roll my eyes at myself, brushing my teeth while the conditioner sits in my hair. The scent of fruit and mint fill the room among the steam. When I rinse my hair, I imagine I'm rinsing the day away.

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time I get out. With slightly damp skin, and a towel wrapped around my head, I struggle to get my clothes on, and it frustrates me.

I open the door and allow the steam to pour into our room, and I'm immediately hit with a surprising smell. It's almost as if someone is roasting marshmallows in our motel room. I take a small, careful step and peek just my head out, eyes zeroing in on the lit candles on the table.

My eyes skip over to Dean who sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, a single flower in one hand, and a mix-tape in the other. Beneath his feet is a trail of rose petals leading to the door of the bathroom. He keeps his eyes on me, a smile peaking through his lips as he awaits my next move.

Sam's eyes and mine meet before he offers an awkward smile and shuffles a few things around on his bed. He grabs his shower bag, and I take a few steps towards Dean to allow him to enter the bathroom. Dean and I are both silent until the door closes behind Sam.

"What is all this, Dean?" I asks, astonished. Moldy motel room, or 5 star suite, never in my life has anyone laid out rose petals for me. I feel my heart racing like it's ready to burst right out of my chest.

Dean smiles, standing to hand me the flower with a kiss on my cheek. My skin is warm where his lips just were, and he reaches to take my hand, guiding me to sit on our bed.

He notices my eyes glance down at the mix tape before jumping back up to his. "I've been working on this for a few weeks now," he says, shaking the tape in his hand before handing it to me.

My hand shakes when I grab it, and I flip it to see "To my Y/N/N, Love Dean," scribbled on the front. My cheeks grow hot again, but this time with embarrassment that I'd spent the whole day thinking about myself, when here's Dean blowing expectations right out of the water.

"It's, uh, all the songs that remind me of you," he says softly, and I notice the scent of my favorite candle as the flame burns. My head spins.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," I start, and he just smiles, caressing my hand with his calloused fingers, "I mean, thank you. This is the kindest, most loving thing anyone has ever done for me," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

It's overwhelming to think a personal could love someone so much that amidst hunting Heaven, Hell and everything in between he could find the time to make this moment so special.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't cry," he says, arms wrapping around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"I'm not crying, Dean," I contest, but I nuzzle my face into his soft, comforting shirt, allowing my arms to wrap around his torso, and under the warmth of his jacket.

I soak in the smell of his sandalwood cologne and tighten my arms around him. Kissing his chest, I mutter another "thank you" before lifting my head to look him in the eyes. He brings his hand to either side of my face, eyes looking back and forth between mine, "you're very welcome," he says, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and I realize that it's moments like these that I want to fill my heaven with.

~~~~

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[complete-clownery]

Okay I wont get to work on this any longer tonight so imma just post this

So this morning I have realised some stuff about my Macaque home hc

So first of all you can see the human disguised Macaque with Bai He,

and so Bai He wasnt there or "planed into the house" three days ago, but I decided that, that just wont do, I want her with Macaque, so im going to have to go back and alter my original ideas so it would fit the concept of Bai He also living there with Macaque (I have quit a lot of ideas for that, but ill get to them when I have the time)

But its not the main reason I wanted to talk about this even with half finished ideas under constructuion in my head

The big thing you already saw the random old lady and the antic Store/shop, so its no suprise im going to talk about that a for a bit,,, not a lot tho cuz I dont really got the energy for this

Soo--- She does not have a name, but Ill work on that, shes not fully thougt out, but nothing really when it comes to my ideas and headcanons (its kinda like eating halfbaked dough)

so shes 73 years old divorced lady running a little antic shop in the outer cirkles of Megapolis. I was thinking maybe it was her who originally selled the whole building to Macaque and rented the free space under the dojo.

She has a daughter and a grandkid (didn't decide on gender yet)

Shes kinda inspired by @/ladygreenfrisbee's oc in the fanfiction sunbreak, a snarky but sweet old lady whos not taking any shit from the brooding, shadow the hedgehog wannabe.

When she was younger she worked in a Museum in Megapolis, working with antient historical artifacts and megical weapons, but she pretty much knew everything about anything in there, with history and old stories being one of her passions,

Thus after she retired she decided to open and antic store. Even tho its an antic store, she can be one of those people that you bring an old piece of furniture or object in and they can tell you if its legit or not. She is also willing to trade and buy stuff from you if its to her likings. She's fair and not a con artist, she has just enough money for herself and thats completely fine by her, shes a simple woman when it comes to living.

She has a ton of degrees, Dr. And Phd tytels and what nots, extreamly smart and knows a lot about history and mytology and different eras of the past, making it easier for her and Macaque to connect over old stuff.

Also I was thinking, even tho she couldnt tell that Macaque was the Six Eared Macaque himself, she knew that they were wearing glamours, She studied artifects and worked with demons who were experts on the field of magics and glamours, she knows her shit

And even tho She had a decent relationshipp with Macaque I dont think Macaque would willingly let her see his true form, maybe after he was very exhausted, and injured after a fight they couldnt hold it up and were like-- fuck it who cares (maybe it was after the final fight with LBD) and she obviously knew who they were imidietly seeing his Six ears (that even tho he let her see one time hé continued to glamour like he would usually, only letting go of their human disguise)

So after that she would start asking him a whole lot of questions about the past and what was it like, carefully avoiding the questions involving the great sage equal to heaven, cuz she knew what happend from jttw

But yeah Macaque found it funny how a child and an old lady are looking at him with similar shimmer to their eyes as they interrogate him on the past

She loves a good tea and has her own little blends that calm the nerves and ease muscle pain and stuff like that. After She and Macaque became more friendly with eachother she gifted them some tea that helps him fall asleep better and relax. Macaque checked them for poison twice and couldnt find anything, but still wasnt willing to drink from them until he had a very fucked up breakdown yippeee ✌️

After Macaque lived there for some years they somewhat warmed up to eachother, they would hold little tea paties and talk about stuff (annoying husbands and divorce) after Bai He started living with Macaque these tea parties increased in numbers, sometimes the ladys grandchild joining in when Grandma was watching over them, maybe they get along well with Bai He, maybe they had a rocky begining to their friendshipp, but they warmed up to eachother and now are pretty good friends (maybe, ill think about it more)

BUT!!! this was it for now its already 2:40 am and im waking up at 6:40 so even tho I have more to say ill be going now

Bye thank you for reading ✌️☺️