#though it does make it hotter in the summer

[tobifuyu]

Heatwave

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

A heatwave hits Tokyo and you have to deal with a clingy, and way too hot, Ran Haitani.

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fluff, vaginal sex, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, whiny ran, ran is smitten.

words count: 3.8k

Sleeping in the same bed as Ran means waking up in a furnace. Lanky body stretching over the mattress, long limbs reaching over for you the moment you try running away from the heat.

It’s almost like he can sense you’re not by his side anymore, unconsciously trying to have you back in his arms.

Tonight the air in the room is unbreathable. It’s summer, the humidity makes the city feel way hotter than it should be. You forgot to turn the ac on and the idea of getting up to look for the remote in the dark is so far out of your mind.

“Ran, baby. Let go of me,” You mumble between shallow breaths, still too groggy to care about not slurring your words. You know it’s pointless, though, Ran is never gonna hear your desperate tone unless you arouse him from his sleep.

He is a deep sleeper and he doesn’t particularly enjoy getting woken up.

You try, once again, removing yourself from his hold. It hurts you, knowing how much he likes to cuddle with you in his sleep and how inviting his hands look resting on your skin, but you can already feel the sweat wetting the back of your neck. The moment you raise his heavy arm and lift the blanket from your body, you can hear him groan.

“Mh,” he grunts at you angrily, big palm coming to rest on your hip as he grabs it to pull your frame back into his chest.

God, this annoying man-child.

If he won’t let you go, there’s no other way to go about it if not by waking him up. You really don’t want to disturb his sleep, considering the ungodly hours he does at his job and how much he cares for his beauty rest, but he’s now impeding yours. You feel like dying in this heat and your throat is getting perched as minutes go by.

You turn in his hold, now facing him, shaking his frame as you call his name once again, “Baby please, just let me go, it’s too hot.”

“No,” his answer is raspy and stubborn like the man he is, and he lowers his head to rest it on the plush of your chest as he hums happily.

You let out a sigh of defeat and bring your hands to the back of his head, running the tips of your fingers between his un-gelled short locks out of habit.

“Just know that you’ll wake up tomorrow and I’ll be dead,” you’re just kidding, but the statement makes Ran slightly release his hold on you.

“Please, don’t go,” He sleepily whispers with such vulnerability that makes your heart ache for him. You scratch the patch of skin behind his ear and make him shiver in your embrace as you bend to kiss the crown of his head.

You love this man so much, you don’t think you could ever live without him.

You leave another peck on his forehead, then another on his nose as you scoot down to his level. His handsome face is puffy from sleep, and his lavender haze is now focused on you as you move closer to kiss his soft lips.

The press of your mouths together is short and sweet as he finally awakens.

“I’m not going anywhere, just a couple centimeters away from the radiator that is your body,” you try to explain, grasping his clenched jaw between your palms.

“Can’t sleep without you near,” he states as a matter of fact.

You know that is a lie, this man could sleep anywhere and at all times, but you don’t get to protest as he reaches over once again to kiss you. His lips encase yours while his nose rubs against your own, his eyes closing to savor the moment.

You gently push him away, scolding him with your stare as you tell him he’s not being reasonable or helpful, “At least get up to turn on the ac, if you wanna hold me so bad.”

“Or you could just get naked,” he suggests, winking as a smug grin makes its way on his pretty face. You know the moment the suggestion popped up in his head, he’s already getting ideas, you can sense it in the way his fingers are now running under the hem of your sleep shirt.

“Turn the ac on. And bring me some water while you’re at it, then I might even take my clothes off. Just for you,” you try to bribe him, but can’t help hiding an amused smile.

At first you think he’s not gonna do it, but then you hear him let out a groan as he stretches his long body and leaves the bed. Out of the two, he’s the one who cherishes sleep the most, but you’re the laziest.

The beep of the ac as he turns it on and the steps he takes to the kitchen resound in the otherwise silent room as you kick the covers to the bottom of the bed. As promised, you grasp the hem of your shirt to remove it and chunk it in the direction of the sofa, waiting for the cooling air to hit your panties-covered body.

When Ran comes back in the room, you’re slipping back into a slumber, but he pats your shoulder and cradles the back of your head in his palm, raising it to help you drink the cold water you requested.

“Thank you, baby,” you pull him in by the back of his neck as he sits the glass on the nightstand, now moving over your frame as he rests on his bent elbows.

“My pleasure,” he hums, lowering himself to touch your skin with his, hips settling between your parted legs while he pecks your lips, “Mh, I see you did get naked.”

Another peck, “‘course, I keep all of my promises.”

“That’s good,” your arms are draped loosely over his broad shoulders, hands running along the skin as you drag him even closer, “Means I get to be the one making you sweat now.”

Your chuckle gets cut short by his mouth descending onto yours, this time with a purpose. His kisses start slow, lips repeatedly encasing your own, as he sucks the skin enough to make it hurt, pleasurably.

Ran’s tongue runs across the seam of your mouth which you part willingly to let him in, meeting him halfway trying to fight for dominance because you like to irk him, no matter how pointless it might be.

He lets out a moan in your mouth, liking the way you’re fighting back, and your body instantly reacts to the sound by enclosing his hips between your thighs.

Ran starts rubbing against you while his cock hardens. He can already feel how wet you are through the cloth, the both of you only clad in underwear.

“Ran-“ you whisper his name between rushed kisses and the knocking of your teeth. He recognizes the desperation in your tone and reels in it. “Sh, baby. Let’s take it slow, mh?”

He’s doing it on purpose, he likes to drive you mad as much as you do. He’s a generous lover, but does not give without a little teasing.

His lips start carefully mapping out the path that he knows oh so well down your body. He has it memorized by now, and knows where to kiss, lick and bite to make you sound just the way he craves.

Ran reaches your exposed chest, sucking the pebbled nipple in his mouth as he caresses the other breast. You arch your back and press against him. He knows not to leave any part of you unattended, Ran loves to spoil you.

That’s why he can’t bring himself to tell you no when you grip his messy hair and bring him back up for another kiss, one of your hands reaching down to snap the elastic of his boxers over his pelvis, making him flinch and the both of you let out a laugh against each others’ lips at his reaction.

You reach inside the cotton to grasp his hardened length. He’s heavy and warm in your hold, you stroke him a couple of times and feel him get stiffer. With the pad of your thumb you circle his head, “Fuck,” he hisses when you press against his silt, precome collecting on your fingertips.

He’s kissing your neck now, enjoying the slow touches on his hardness, bucking his hips against your hand when you squeeze just a little tighter, “I thought you said to take it slow?” you tease him. Sometimes he needs to get a taste of his own medicine.

He stamps a kiss on your lips, loud and wet, and doesn’t even bother replying to you as he squats between your legs before grasping the sides of your panties. He drags them down slowly, fixed on your cunt getting exposed and the strings of your wetness sticking to the lace.

Ran takes a look at you, hair messy and sprawled on the pillow, cheeks rosy and chest heaving. Your pebbled nipples and spread legs are not the only things giving away how needy you are, “Fuck, so pretty.”

He bends down and your thighs squish his head the moment he laps at your clit. You love when he dives straight in, means he can’t wait to get a taste of you, but the zero warning on his side makes you moan loudly.

You lower your gaze onto his, fixed on your reddening face to memorize every single one of your reactions as he flattens his tongue over your cunt, the tip parting your lips to collect the liquid he has been craving a taste of.

“This wet already?” he snickers as he slaps your cunt with his palm, making you jump. His fingers find their way to your opening to massage and stretch the entrance as his lips are circling your clit, sucking it into his mouth to make sure you start pleading for him.

“Ran, baby. Please, want you inside,” you’re pulling on his hair, trying to get his face away from between your legs.

He complies, your neediness starting to get to him. He would love to spend hours between your thighs as he normally does, but he also knows the both of you are too tired for that, so he makes a mental note to wake you up with his tongue in the morning.

You take off his boxers swiftly, and he lets you because he lives off that look you get when you concentrate while doing something, whatever that may be. He’s just so smitten, if you could read his mind you’d never stop making fun of him. But he doesn’t really care. Sometimes he wishes you could, just so you might finally understand the weight of what he feels. Ran has never been great at sharing his feelings.

Settling between your legs is what he does after. Usually, he lets you ride him whenever he’s too tired to put you to sleep himself, but tonight he just wants you to lay there and let him love you. It’s been a long week of grueling work and he misses you. Craves you so much that he can’t resist your whines anymore.

“You sure you can take me like this, pretty girl?”

“Mhmh, ‘m positive. I need you so bad,” His cock is big, he usually spends some time prepping you, but you seem resolute about this as you grasp the base of his length and position his tip at your entrance. Ran hisses, the feeling of your warm skin brushing his is so delicious. You’re aware of how needy Ran can get when he’s tired, unlike his usual dominant self, and you have to admit you can’t help but feel even more turned on whenever you manage to make him whine for you.

When he pushes in, your jaw goes slack, no sound is coming out of your open mouth other than the deep breaths you take to keep yourself grounded. He is girthy, the very first time you had him made you nearly give up halfway through, but you’ve gotten used to taking him, and the burning stretch is now nothing but a reassurance of what pleasure is gonna come after.

The warmth of his forehead rests on your shoulder as he heaves in your ear, eyes squeezed shut and hands holding the fat of your hips to pin you down tightly. Ran needs a second to collect himself cause if he doesn’t he’s either gonna start fucking into you before you’re ready or just come from the way you’re gripping him alone.

You’re so wet, his cock is slipping in slowly and you can feel all of him, rounded tip and the veins on his length, brushing against your walls. Ran bottoms out but doesn’t dare to move, navel pressed so tightly against yours that when you try raising your hips you have very little wiggle room.

“Ran, baby, please?” Oh, Ran is just delighted. He loves when you call him baby, makes him feel loved and cared for, especially paired with the way you’re stroking the back of his head while cradling him and softly begging for him to move. So of course he does just that, he’d do anything to please you.

The canting of his hips starts slow, the drag of his cock feels delicious inside of you, and you spread your legs wider to make him reach even deeper. “Fuck, pretty girl. You feel so fucking good. S’good.” He’s a blubbering mess, his lips are leaving wet kisses all over your neck, making you moan out when he sucks on the soft patch of skin right below your ear.

“Want me to ride you?” You ask him, not wanting to move from under the weight of his body but also needing him to feel as good and taken care of as he always makes you feel.

“No need princess,” the kisses are now dragging lower towards your chest, he bites one of your nipples between his teeth making you arch your back once again, a sign that he’s collected himself and is offended by how quickly you were ready to take over. He grasps the back of your left knee in his hand, bending the leg while opening you up to him, far more than what you’re able to stretch on your own, and you feel him brush your cervix with his leaky tip. His thrusts are now harsher, he pulls out all the way just to slam back in, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he aims for that spot inside of you, the one he loves to hit while watching down on you as he is now, resting on his bent arm.

All the confidence you were sporting a moment ago is wiped from your face in mere seconds, now replaced by your big eyes filling with tears as the pleasure knocks the breath out of you. “Mh, that’s it, there’s my good girl. Let me do all the fucking now, will you?”

His cheeks are stained red, spit-slicked lips being bitten between his pearly whites as he glances down at where the two of you are connected. “Shit, look at that.” He’s not asking, he’s ordering you and you know better than to let your eyes flutter shut.

The grasp on the back of your thigh doesn’t waver as he pulls out, his other hand fisting the base of his length as he slaps it over your clit, dragging his precome and your wetness all over the reddening skin. He’s making a show of it. “You’re making a fucking mess. S’pretty and wet, all fo’ me. Right? Say it’s all fo’ me.”

The pad of his thumb is rubbing your puffy clit as he awaits your answer, holding back from fucking you until you can’t utter a single sentence anymore, “All for you, Ran!”

“That’s right, pretty girl. This pretty pussy is all mine.”

He slips back in, the squelching sound and panting are the only things your ringing ears can process after his sentence. You’re full-on moaning now, hands holding onto his shoulders as he moves above you. His fingers grasp the back of your other knee, locking both of them in the crease of his bent arms, bending your body at an angle that makes it so easy for him to piston into you, no matter how hard your cunt is clenching down on him. The coil in your lower belly is about to snap, you can’t think straight anymore with the way his purple eyes are staring down at you under the shade of his pretty lashes. “Ra-Ran!” You whine, scratching down his back with one of your hands, sure to be drawing blood. “‘m gonna come, baby, ‘m coming.”

His left hand slithers down between your bodies as he applies pressure over your navel, pushing down with all his might as he abuses your spot from the inside, thumb reaching lower to massage your clit. “Give it to me, pretty, come all over my cock.”

His deep voice is your undoing. You come with a call of his name, tightening your grip around his neck to pull him closer to your quivering body and down for a kiss. You can barely breathe, but the way his tongue sneaks inside your mouth makes the feeling of asphyxiation even sweeter.

Your orgasm is dragged out by his unstopping thrusts, the only giveaway of him acknowledging the fact that you came is the groans and moans the lets out against your lips at the way you’re squeezing him.

“Fuck Ran, baby, too much,” You’re back to begging, but now for him to stop. You’re getting overstimulated, the coarse hair over his length is brushing against your soft spot just right. But he’s relentless and starts to get ruthless in his speed.

You know he needs to come and that he’s not gonna let himself go unless you reach your high again. That’s just how Ran is, ripping one orgasm out of you is not enough for him. It’s not only to stroke his big ego, but also cause that is his way of showing love, of putting himself out there and drilling into your head how much he wants and needs you.

“One more pretty girl, just one more.”

You could tell him that you can’t, that you’re spent, but the both of you know it would be a lie. You want it just as much as he does, and all it takes is a couple more minutes for you to get used to his thrusting again, and for the overstimulation to blend into burning pleasure.

“Oh my fucking god– Ran, fuck fuck–“ You’re swearing loudly, gripping onto his body with both your arms and legs as he fucks into you like he means it. You love the way his frame towers over you, he’s so big and the strength he puts into his thrusts is impressive, hips slamming into yours repeatedly, the pressure of your pelvises crashing into one another is just as good as the way he’s shaping your insides.

“Want you to come fo’ me, need to feel you, my love,” His fingers find your clit once again, he flicks it before rubbing against it with precision, the wetness on the skin aiding his fast movements as he takes you to your end once again. “That’s it, baby, just like that. What a fucking good girl, milk me dry.” He’s holding your chin in a firm hold with his big palm, to keep you from looking away from him as fat tears run down your pretty face.

The sight of you makes him double over, his teeth are scraping your earlobe, Ran’s warm breath hits your neck as he pants and groans. He’s so close he’s lost it, his hips are stuttering and you take matters into your own hands as you buck up into him, your walls are clenching around his length with the aftermath of your orgasm.

“Come for me, baby,” You beg him in between deep breaths, hands tangled in his short locks. You use the hold on his hair to redirect his face in front of yours, planting your lips on his and stealing the remaining of his breath away, just like he loves doing to you. “Fill me up,” you whisper against his parted mouth, an invitation he can’t help but accept as he comes while saying your name, white ropes of cum sticking to your walls and overflowing your cunt as he pushes it back in with his sensitive cock.

“‘m gonna eat it out of you in the morning,” he promises shamelessly, referring to the mess the both of you made as he squeezes your ass, and a whimper leaves your lips at the picture he just painted in your head.

He crashes over your body, kissing your collarbone as he regains his breath.

Your mind is so foggy, all you can feel, hear, smell, and taste is Ran. It’s so euphoric. His movements slow to an alt as he comes down from his high. You feel full, warm, and sweaty and for a moment you remember the reason why you even got in this predicament in the first place, but you don’t care about the temperature of the room anymore as your spent bodies stay tangled together.

“Can’t move, ‘m too tired,” he mumbles against your damp skin, lazy eyes staring up at you apologetically.

“‘s okay, baby, rest,” You lay a kiss on his forehead after brushing away the loose hair, “Thank you for turning on the ac.”

Your voice is soft, you look at him with tired eyes and the gentle rise and fall of your chest is pulling him back under. He thinks he would do anything for you if you asked him.

“Mhmh, can I stay inside?” His eyelids are fluttering closed while you nod, not ready to part from his body just yet, “You’re gonna get cold if I don’t, I know you won’t last long with the ac on and I’m not getting up again, babygirl.” You laugh at his raspy voice, maybe he’s already slipping back into dreamland if he hasn’t realized you’ve already given your consent and he’s trying to bargain for a little more of you.

“You can keep me warm, my love. Thank you.”

And Ran is gonna do just that, not only tonight but every other night for the rest of your lives. He leaves a kiss above your left breast.

“No, thank you… I love you.”

Your heart does a backflip, and you hold him closer.

“Love you more, Ran.”

You’re never gonna ask him to let go of you ever again, no matter how hot it might get.

[cozage]

OP Boys and a Sick S/O

How your One Piece boyfriend would react to you being sick on the ship!

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Law

cw: female! reader, some angst, various illnesses

Luffy

He noticed it as soon as he woke up. You were burning up. And when he made a joke, you barely chuckled. “CHOPPER!!! SOMETHINGS WRONG!!!!”

He runs as fast as he can to find Chopper while carrying you and begs him to help you. 

He’s got some PTSD from when Nami was sick. You look and feel a lot like how she did during that time and he’s worried. 

Luckily you’re just diagnosed with the Grand Line Flu, pretty common and easy to overcome.

He snuggles with you when you’re awake and paces around the room when you’re asleep.

When Sanji brings you food, he doesn’t even look at it. He knows you need your strength. He just wants you better.

Chopper advises Luffy sleeping in the same room as you but Luffy doesn’t care. He’s staying with you.

You’re really restless the first night, so he sleeps on the floor and stretches his arm out to hold your hand.

On the third morning you laughed at his joke, and his eyes started getting watery

“I WAS SO WORRIED YOU WERE GONNA DIE IM SO GLAD YOU’RE OKAY”

Zoro

Zoro didn’t really question it when he hadn’t seen you by lunch. Sometimes you just preferred to stay cooped up in your room or the library. 

By dinner, he was starting to get worried. Even more worried when everyone else had said they hadn’t seen you either. 

As he entered your room, he noticed all the lights were off. At first he didn’t think anyone was there, but you let out a small whimper of protest to the light.

“You okay?” He sat carefully on the bed and pulled back your blanket that was wrapped around your head. 

“Zoro…something’s wrong. I feel awful.” Your voice sounded strained. His stomach sank. Why hadn't he checked on you earlier? “I’ll be back” 

He grabs Chopper and rushes back down. He doesn’t want to be gone from you for long. He’s beating himself up over not noticing sooner. 

Chopper does a full exam and deduces that you have a severe case of sun-poisoning and possible effects of heat-stroke. 

“This is because we laid outside all damn day yesterday isn’t it? I knew that Summer island was hotter than usual” Cue even MORE guilt. 

He goes to Sanji and asks for him to make a hydrating meal for you. He doesn’t even pick a fight with the cook, that’s how worried he is.

He lays with you all night and hold you close and keeps apologizing for not noticing earlier. 

The next day you’re feeling slightly better, but he’s persistent in keeping you in bed with him all day until you’re fully recovered. He makes runs to the kitchen and grabs things for you all to do.

It’s really just an excuse to have a day together and he secretly loves it.

Sanji

thought it was strange you didn’t come get breakfast. He was initially worried you were avoiding him or he had missed you coming into the kitchen, so he checked all your favorite spots on the Sunny, and still couldn't find you. 

He knocks on your door, and with no answer, he just peaks inside for one glimpse to confirm you’re not in there. 

Instead, to his horror, he finds you passed out on the ground. 

“CHOPPER!!! Y/N IS DOWN!!” His voice echos through the ship and sends everyone rushing towards your room. 

Sanji is afraid to move you, so he just brushes your hair from your face and whispers quiet encouragement to you. 

He’s so scared. Your face is so white and clammy and there’s nothing he can do. 

By the end of his exam, you’ve slipped back into consciousness, though you’re still groggy. Chopper diagnoses you with Low blood sugar and low iron. 

You’ve given some iron tablets to take and told to take it easy. Sanji doesn’t want to leave you, but also wants to cook something to help your low blood sugar of course. 

He picks you up bridal style and carries you to the kitchen. “Chopper told you not to use extra energy didn’t he? So I guess I’ll just have to carry you everywhere!” 

He makes such a good breakfast for you :) you’re starting to feel better already 

Sanji is secretly beating himself up because it’s HIS job to keep the crew healthy and give them a balanced diet and you of all people were his oversight (it wasn’t really his fault though you know that)

Even after the food and choppers help yo still have a massive headache so you and Sanji curl up in the fish tank lounge and rest all day long. He only gets up to make people meals. 

Sanji occasionally puts his hand on your chest just to make sure you’re still breathing whenever you’re asleep. He’s so worried about you. Vows to never let that happen again because he can’t bear to see you sick like this ever again. 

Ace 

You’re not a restless sleeper. Usually you fall asleep against Ace and you stay pressed against him all night long. His body emits a nice warmth that you just love to snuggle into at night. 

Tonight’s different though. You’re tossing and turning, almost like you can’t get comfortable. Thats his first red flag. 

When he wakes up in the middle of the night, he reaches out for you, but only finds an empty sheet in your place.

He starts to panic and his eyes scan the dimly lit room. His eyes finally land on you, lying on the wooden floor in the middle of the room

He’s instantly out of bed, right by your side, desperately shaking you awake.

“Ace, stop…” you roll away from him. 

“What is it? What’s wrong, y/n?” He can feel that your skin is clammy and abnormally warm to the touch. Your hair is stuck to your face, damp with sweat. 

“Marco…I’m going to get Marco. I’ll be right back” he gives you a quick forehead kiss that emits a groan from your half-awake self. 

He dashed out of the room and sprints across the ship to the first division commanders room. He begins desperately banging on Marcos door 

Marco answers the door and he is NOT thrilled. Until he sees Ace’s face and how worried he is. “Please Marco. She’s sick. Really sick. She’s burning up and I…I don’t know what to do”

Marco follows him back to his room and sees you half conscious on the floor. He bends down next to you and starts taking your vitals. 

“Ace, it looks like it’s just a virus. It’ll run its course and she’ll be fine in a day or two. I’ll come back and check on her again tomorrow.” After reassuring his friend that it is not life or death, Marco takes his leave. 

Ace can’t sleep though. He grabs a fan, a rag, and a bucket of water, doing anything he can to keep you cool through the night. He just sits by your side and watches you when you’re asleep. 

When you wake up the next morning, he’s there, ready to get you anything you need. And he doesn't leave it until you're ready to leave the room again too.

Law

“No thanks, I think I’ll pass tonight.” makes Law raise an eyebrow. You never skip dessert, especially when Penguin is the one who made it. 

As you excuse yourself from the table, he waits just a beat before following you out. 

“Y/n-ya. Are you okay?” He’s already analyzing your face for any signs of distress. 

“I’m fine, Law. Just tired is all”. It’s a lie. And he knows it too. He pulls you into his office without another word. 

His hand outstretches toward you “Room”.  “Law this really isn’t-“ “Scan”. His word are clipped, and you can see that his worry lines are deep. 

“Food poisoning. Seriously? I knew we shouldn’t have eaten at that sketchy bar today.” He’s already grabbing IVs and other meds. “You should’ve told me sooner.”

“It was the oysters right? I knew they tasted funny.” You attempt a weak smile at your captain, which is only met with a glare. “At least you didn’t eat any of them too.”

“You’re sleeping in my room tonight so I can keep an eye on you.” He’s already got an arm around you, helping you stand. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you had someone helping support you. You wish you had the energy to object, but you let him lead you to his room. 

As soon as you’re on his bed, your eyes begin to close. The last thing you see is him prepping an IV for you. 

He stays by your side. Sitting, watching. Looking for any signs of discomfort on your face. 

When you’re sick, he holds your hair back for you. He has water and saltine crackers ready to get the taste out of your mouth, too. 

After the first few hours, he starts to relax, and chooses to work at his desk through the night, but he keeps you in his line of sight at all times.

The next morning you are already feeling better because of how fast Law noticed you were sick. You’re still feeling tired, but your appetite is already returning a bit. 

Law had Shachi prep some light and comforting foods for you, and you see a smile pass over his lips when you ask for it. 

He kisses his the pads of fingertips and then presses it immediately against your forehead. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, y/n-ya”

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Nimona headcanons just cause

Nimona and Ambrosius are both like sentient space heaters 

Nimona runs hotter than the average human being because obvi

But Ambrosius is a whole nother ballpark 

I just know this man hates summer more than the average person

Poor baby is just a miserable sweaty clammy mess and if anyone tries to touch him during summer he threatens to bite them

Nimona and Ambrosius always refuse to let the ac get higher than 60 degrees and Bal suffers 

Bal should be classified as a damn reptile 

Poor baby has terrible circulation

It’s bad enough that Ambrosius has dragged him to the doctor multiple times 

He clings to Ambrosius and Nimona in the winter because this man is constantly freezing 

I just know he’s a damn menace the second it gets a little chilly

This little brat will shove his hands up Ambrosius’ shirt the second he gets home to “warm up”

And he’s got a metal hand so it’s twice as cold

Ambrosius has been woken up from a deep sleep by freezing hands or freezing feet and will whine about how it feels like waking up in an ice bath

One time Ambrosius walked into the living room to find Bal chasing Nimona around while they were screaming “Frosty the snowman is trying to kill me with his icicle hands” 

Ambrosius is weirdly good with all kids he’s been described multiple times as a “natural parent”

Does he like kids…. That’s up for debate 

Like he doesn’t hate them if their parents raised them right but if that kid is a little bully then fuck no he doesn’t like them 

Nimona is also really good with kids 

He’s a little cautious around elementary school kids cause you know trauma and has weird beef with all middle schoolers 

Bal is fucking terrified of babies 

One time someone asked him to hold their baby and then walked off and which sent him into a panic attack 

He’ll go on hour-long rants about how fragile are and how he can’t be trusted with something that can suffocate if you don’t lay them down the wrong way

He’s okay with elementary school kids and doesn’t mind middle schoolers but he has massive issues with highschoolers for some reason 

A high school once asked him to visit and give a talk to the students and Ambrosius had to take his laptop away before he emailed them back saying “I’d rather chop my other arm off”

Honestly I think even though Nimona craves stability she also needs freedom 

So every couple of weeks she’ll go on little solo adventures 

She keeps the boys updated constantly about where she is but she never tells them when she’s coming back because she doesn’t even know 

Most of the time she’ll come back when she wants a homecooked meal (and when she misses the boys)

The boys are pretty used to this routine so they aren’t surprised anymore when they come home to a note saying she’ll be gone for a bit

They also aren't surprised when he climes through their window at 2 in the morning to wake them up and demand food 

Could he make it himself? Absolutely 

Does he want to? Fuck no where’s the fun in that 

Plus he knows no matter how much the boys complain about messed up sleep schedules and how he “gave them a heart attack” they'd rather be woken up in the middle of the night so they can make sure he’s healthy and fed 

When they do come home the boys “force” them into a sleepover in the living room where they eat a stupid amount of junk food and watch old horror movies  

And they call out of work so they can catch up and learn everything that can't fit in a text

[shdo-xplosion]

spaghetti straps - r. shidou ࿐

warnings: 2.4k; fem-bodied reader, coercion, reader wants to fuck more than she’d like to admit, shidou is a little annoying, shidou can lift and hold you (he stronk athlete), dirty talk, semi-public sex, a little plot, p in v, creampie

note: hi! (✿◠‿◠) my first shidou fic (finally) and my contribution to @saintshiba’s sundress szn collab! truly hope everybody enjoys my take on him cause i am so obsessed with him. banner manga cap colored by moi! plspls let me know what you think of my writing! feedback means a lot (≧◡≦)

You aren’t used to wearing things other than your typical track shorts and t-shirts, never one for fashion or dressing up, though you admire anyone who enjoys that kind of stuff.

But it’s summer, and it’s hot, and you’re at a beach house with some friends. Pulling a cotton shirt and shorts on and off over a wet bathing suit is simply not it, so for this weekend you’ve decided to pack sundresses instead of your usual attire.

It’s been 2 days and all the stares you’ve been getting from the guys are still weird, most of confusion and/or surprise, but there are a couple friends, specifically one infuriating, blond-haired insect of a man, who is very obvious in the way he looks at you, magenta eyes half-lidded, salacious smirk stretching across his lips. It’s maddening, made even worse by the fact that he already knows what you’re hiding under your little sundress.

“The yellow suits you,” Shidou purrs in your ear in the kitchen, and you feel one of his fingers wiggle underneath the thin shoulder strap of your bikini top. “Goes nice with the purple suit.”

“Too bad none of it’s for you,” you grumble, trying not to pay him much attention.

He isn’t so much your ex-boyfriend as much as your ex-mistake, a fuck buddy you had the misfortune of catching feelings for only for him to let you down gently. Or, as gently as someone like Shidou could manage.

I still wanna fuck you, though, he had told you thoughtlessly. It’s better than nothing for you, right?

You had immediately cut things off, both hurt and offended that he just assumed his dick would be enough to keep you around. That you were so desperate for him that you would just take what you could get.

No, you hadn’t quite reached that level of infatuation.

You’re still a little bitter about it, a little embarrassed, but you’re also irritated, especially since he insists on coming onto you even now.

“Who’s it for then, hm?” he asks, bending down enough for his breath to hit your neck. It gives you goosebumps. It also makes you squirm away from him.

“For me. ‘Cause it’s easy and breezy.”

“And beautiful… cover girl,” he quotes. You fight not to laugh. “But really, the dresses look good on you. You should let me take some pictures…” he wiggles his eyebrows. “More for my private collection.”

You make a face of disgust. “Ugh, you haven’t deleted those yet?” The thought of him having all kinds of lewd photos of you both disturbs and excites you. Does that mean he still uses them?

“Why would I delete such quality content?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you threaten, “if you post those anywhere, I’ll kill you.”

Shidou grins crookedly. “Kinky.”

With an exasperated huff, you walk away.

~*~

Even with crazy, windblown hair and covered in sweat, you can still sense Shidou watching you. It makes your already heated skin burn even hotter.

Currently you’re situated under an umbrella, just scrolling on your phone while all the guys play a game of beach volleyball. If it can even be called that. They should definitely stick to soccer.

You aren’t surprised when Shidou plops down next to you, dusting up some sand so that it powders your bare thighs.

“White today,” he comments, picking at the hem of your short dress.

All you offer is a noncommittal, “mm,” gritting your teeth at the feeling of his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Makes you look innocent,” he continues. “Which we both know is a lie.”

“Shidou, please drop it. Admire from afar if you have to, but—”

“Miss when you used to call me Ryu.” He nuzzles into your shoulder, inhaling deeply, and when you try to shrug him off, you feel his teeth against your skin. He doesn’t bite hard, but it’s enough to anchor him to you.

“Ryu!” you squeal, shoving his face away.

“Just like that,” he grins before mimicking you ‘Ryu’. “Used to scream my name like that when I’d fuck you real good.”

“God, you are insufferable!”

He’s also turning you on, much to your disappointment. Hand slowly slipping under your dress, a small nibble to your earlobe.

“I know all your spots, baby. Just give in. You know you want to.” He’s using that seductive voice that always makes your breath quicken and your eyes dilate. Everything is brighter even with your sunglasses.

“See, you’re already spreading your legs for me.”

He’s right. Your knees aren’t pressed together anymore, leaving a gap between your thighs.

“There are people around, Ryuusei,” you tell him sternly, a last ditch effort to spur his advances.

You aren’t the least bit surprised when his only counter is a petulant, “so?”

His hand slides up further until his fingers brush against your covered pussy, and you bite your lip, ashamed that you’ve let him get to you like this.

“Sand,” you whine. “Don’t want…”

He hums in consideration then turns onto his back, rolling and propelling himself straight to his feet in one fluid motion. Annoying.

“To the showers, then,” he says, pulling you up.

He ignores your mumbling as he leads you to the little shower, on the beach for the purpose of rinsing sand off of sticky bodies. A little blue curtain is all that will block you from view. You’re supposed to keep your bathing suits on after all.

The water pressure isn’t strong, but it is enough to get the sand off both of you. You swear out loud as you pull your bottoms off. The dress is staying on; there’s no way you’re getting entirely naked. Shidou, on the other hand, shamelessly pushes his trunks all the way off, letting them pool on the wooden plans right next to yours.

You gasp when he suddenly spins you around, finding the strings of your top and tugging them loose.

“Get this shit off.”

He yanks the material over your head, turning you to face him again, and groans when he looks down at your chest. With your white dress entirely soaked, your hard nipples show through the sheerness. Shidou immediately starts groping you, his head falling back like he’s already on the verge of cumming just from playing with your tits.

It feels good, his palms rubbing over your sensitive buds before he pinches each one. You’d rather skip the foreplay, though, eager to have something inside you while also nervous about being caught.

To move things along you reach between your legs, running your middle finger between your folds and hating yourself for how wet you are. Like you’d said the other day, water makes a terrible lube, but if you’re already ridiculously slick, it doesn’t really matter.

You slip two fingers into your hole and scissor them apart, well aware that it’d be unwise to take Shidou without any prep. His cock is too pretty, something to be proud of, and he is. It’s thick and long, fat mushroom shaped head perfect for dragging against your walls.

“Yeah, you want it now, don’t ya?” he teases.

“Don’t push your luck.” It’s meant to be a warning, but you’re too breathless for it to have any weight.

Shidou abandons your chest in order to guide your hand away from yourself, replacing it with his own and fucking you with his longer fingers. He hikes one of your legs up, holding it to his hip, and as he stretches you out, he ruts his pelvis forward.

“Okay, I’m good,” you tell him. “I’m good, I’m ready.”

“Oh? Baby girl all cock hungry now?”

“Ryuuu,” you whine, grinding down on his hand.

“Only ‘cause you’re making such pretty sounds for me.”

He grabs your other leg, hoisting you up with the strength gained from years of dedicated workouts. You shift in his grasp until you feel the tip of his cock rub against your cunt. The amount of times the two of you have fucked, you know each others bodies well, and it’s almost second nature for you to guide him into your hole without the use of your hands.

Your mouth hangs open as he slides inside, the muscles in Shidou’s arms straining as he lowers you on his cock. You’re relying on him entirely. He’ll be in control as he supports you, and you’ll be completely helpless.

He doesn’t ask if you’re ready, if you’ve braced yourself, just starts bouncing you up and down. His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, definitely creating bruises, and you steady yourself by tangling fingers in his hair. He’s so fucking hot like this, water running down his toned frame, blonde strands plastered to his face.

The way that you’re gripping his hair pushes his face into your tits, and Shidou groans like a porn star, lapping up the droplets that cover your chest.

Short moans are forced out if you with every bounce. Hn, hn, hn until Shidou starts moving you more aggressively and your jaw drops. Ah, ah, ah.

“Missed this sweet pussy,” Shidou pants. “Take my dick so good. Think she missed me too.”

You’re not a huge fan of him personifying your literal vagina, but you’re too far gone to chastise him for it. In fact, you agree, nodding and huffing, “I do, I do…”

His thrusts are shallow because of the position, but he still feels so good as he bullies your soft, gummy walls. The way you’re wrapped around him has your hard clit rubbing against his pelvis, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock beginning to rub you raw in a delicious way. You always did like a little pain with your pleasure, and Shidou is amazing at delivering just that.

“Really should open this curtain. Let everyone see how gorgeous you look getting fucked like this.”

“Don’t you dare,” you gasp.

“You sure? You don’t wanna put on a show for the guys? I bet they’d all get jealous.”

“Ryu, please!”

He bites the top of one of your tits then relents, rolling his striking eyes. “Fine.” His thick eyelashes are dripping with water, so pretty. “But only if you cum for me.”

You wouldn’t be able to if he hadn’t been fucking you so perfectly, cockhead massaging your g-spot, clit now overstimulated.

“Think you can do that for me, sweetness?”

You nod. “Are… are you close too?”

“‘’m always close when I’m fucking you,” he tells you. “Just looking at you gets me hard.”

Vulgar but flattering.

“You want me inside? Stuff this pussy full of cum?”

“Nnng, pleeease.”

You shouldn’t let him, shouldn’t reward him after how much he’s annoyed you on this vacation. But you love the feeling of him dripping out of you, thick and warm, enough to spill down your thighs. If you weren’t on birth control, you would never. As it is…

“Alright, cum for me then,” he commands. “Wanna feel your cunt milk me.”

Heat spreads from your pussy to the place between your hips, pooling into your tummy and traveling to your toes.

“Oh god, Ryu,” you sob, “I’m… don’t stop…”

He spreads his legs, squatting slightly so that his thighs can support some of your weight as he quickly rocks back and forth, his fat cock pistoning in and out of your spasming hole.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“m’gonna blow,” Shidou huffs. “Gonna fill you up… take my cum, baby, take all of it.”

It’s a subtle sensation, him spilling inside of you. You can’t feel every individual rope of cum, but you can feel your pussy getting fuller and fuller, stretching you even further. And then, you can feel it begin to leak out of you, coating Shidou’s cock as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you.

“Still as good as I remember,” he remarks, lifting you until he slips out of you before setting you back on wobbly legs.

He’s right, unfortunately. The best lay you’ve ever had.

“It was… nice,” you mumble regretfully. “Glad we’re already in a shower.”

“Convenient. Since you always get so messy,” he smirks.

“Because you make me messy.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

You rinse off the slimy fluid dripping down the insides of your legs, retrieve your bathing suit from the ground. The bottoms are easy enough to wiggle back into, but you have to ask Shidou for help with your top.

“You look so good without it, though, he says, but when you cast him a glare, he concedes. “Fine.”

As he ties it back around you, you can’t help but ask, “is it just the sundresses that did it for you? You like them that much?”

“I mean, I do like little dresses like this,” he confirms, trailing his hands down your ribs and pulling you back into him. “But anything you wear gets my dick hard. My jerseys, pajamas, your boring t-shirts n’ shit.”

“Boring but comfy.”

“And still sexy cause you’re the one wearing ‘em.”

Your stomach flutters in a familiar way, butterflies accompanied by dread. “Careful. You’re starting to sound awfully sweet, Ryu.”

You feel him shrug, his arms locked around you and his lips pressed to the skin behind your ear.

“What can I say? I missed you.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that, refusing to get your hopes up. The vacation will be over soon, and Shidou will go back to being a fuckboy. You’re not about to let him hurt you again.

So you shake your head and step out of his arms then bend down to grab his swim trunks off the ground.

“Put your pants back on,” you sigh, and, taking a page out of his book, you leave him with a casualness that you hope will mess with his head in the coming days. Just like this whole encounter is sure to mess with yours.

2023©️shidou-x. please do not plagiarize, edit, or share my work to any other platforms.

[ssahopelessly]

Gift Exchange

Synopsis: It’s the holidays at the BAU and that only means one thing - Secret Santa gift exchange.

Prompt: “Character only wanted to reveal that they are someone's Secret Santa at the BAU Christmas Party but they end up confessing a lot more than that.” from @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party challenge. {A.N. I did not see this prompt until AFTER I wrote this but close enough.}

Warnings: Spencer Reid x fem!reader, work-place crush, Secret Santa, Spencer is dumb and scared of his own feelings. It’s basic fluff. [let me know any I missed]

Word Count: 4.5k

Masterist

You had only been at the BAU for a few months when suddenly it was the end of November. Thankfully, there hadn’t been a case, so you were able to slip away for an extended weekend to relax and renew before the workload of the final month of the year. Derek had taken you under his wing in a way, and upon your December return, warned you that normally December was the unpredictable predictable month. “What does that even mean?” You had asked while walking into the roundtable room one Monday morning.

“Kid, the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas is notoriously crime ridden. People lose their minds between financial stress and familial stress, and- look, all I’m saying is don’t make any solid plans for the month of December.” With Derek sitting two seats to Spencer's left, you squeezed yourself into the space between them, careful not to bother Spencer’s personal space as you brought yourself closer to the edge of the table.

“What about New Years?” You had tried to ask him, running the potential for an end of the year getaway in your head.

“Actually,” It was natural Spencer cut in, never able to miss a chance to share the information he knew, “the month of December mostly sees crimes revolving around material and monetary gain, crimes like theft and larceny increasing by 20% according to the National Crime Victimization Survey. The summer is when studies show the most violent and heinous crimes occur, specifically on the hotter days.” Derek rolled his eyes, beginning to flip through the small collected pile of paperwork he had carried into the room with him.

“Good morning Spencer.” You chose to greet him, already feeling the easy joy that came from being in his presence.

“Good morning.” It was an effort to not notice the way his voice shrunk back in on itself as your knee accidentally bumped him under the table, not quite catching the side glance Derek was giving you both either.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a running pool in the office. Just a small wager of $50, Derek had bet Emily that Spencer wouldn’t make a move before the New Year. Emily, ever confident in Spencer, insisted Spencer would make some gesture if the proper environment had presented itself. They were both coming up empty handed against the running clock as it had been a few months and neither you nor Spencer seemed to want to push anything further than coworkers, maybe friends.

What they had somehow missed though, were the small lunch runs you two would do for the team, or the few times Spencer had lended you his coat in the colder states, or the way he stayed late in the office with you to help with paperwork. They had missed the moments alone with Spencer that had meant everything to you. Well everything, if having a crush on your coworker wasn’t completely unprofessional and if you also weren’t always surrounded by the people who should be able to read that truth out of you.

The rest of the team had filed in, Penelope the last one to enter, just behind Emily and JJ though. “Okay my lovelies, before I present your next adventure, a small side quest!” Penelope put her things down on the table before picking up a small gift bag, rattling its contents around to your confusion. She clocked it before you could say anything and motioning her hand underneath the bag, motioned to everyone around the table. “Secret Santa!” There was a small groan through the room that was then met with a stern glare from Penelope herself before she returned to presenting the festivity. “I’ll pass the bag around so you all can draw your people. The gift limit is $25 so, no pressure.” She passed the bag to Aaron who, without much ceremony, pulled his drawing out and quickly read it as he passed the bag to Derek. Derek however, closed the bag at its opening and shook the contents before drawing his pick, trying to keep any emotions from his face as he passed it to you.

“What happens if we draw ourselves?” You asked as your hand slipped into the bag and felt around the slips of paper.

“Then put it back, draw again.” Penelope offered as she watched you try to make your drawing. And you tried not to think too much about how you wanted to draw Spencer’s name. Surely if you had asked, he could give you the odds of that right now. But also, the longer you took, the more attention you were drawing to yourself and it was just a work gift exchange anyway, you could always find another time to give him a gift later. Your fingertips graced over one slip for the final time and pinching it between, you drew it out of the bag. Leaning back in the chair you opened it to see one name singularly scribbled in her favourite glitter gel pen: Penelope.

“Not me!” You cheered with minimal enthusiasm, passing the bag to Spencer. There was a slight tremble to your hand when your touch graced his, but you tried to ignore it as you slipped your pick into your work folder, trying to push the small let down from your mind.

“Can I request no home made gifts this year?” Rossi had asked from his spot across from Aaron, leaned back in his chair as the bag continued around the table.

“Are you talking about the homemade socks I got you last year?” Penelope whispered out, small upset hanging off her jutted bottom lip.

“The socks I helped her make last year?” Spencer chimed in with reflected upset. Dave looked like he regretted his request but persisted.

“Kids, look, I love the thought and effort that went into them but they’re not really my style. They were ithcy and- not all of us can show up to crime scene with silly socks and be taken seriously.” Spencer smiled and shrugged at the allusion to his fashion sense. Eventually the bag made it around the table and Penelope delivered her case, with Hotch giving the room the standard wheels up in 30 order, everyone quickly dispersing to collect their things for this new case.

As everyone made their way out of the room, you tried to linger in an attempt to talk to Spencer. “Who’d you get?” You asked when it was just you two in the room, keeping your voice low so only he could hear.

“What?” He hadn’t given you his full attention, mind focused on getting his things into his satchel precisely how he wanted them, a task you had seen a few times before.

“For Secret Santa?”

“Oh. I- I can’t tell you that.” His attention still didn’t fall to you as he closed his bag and started making his way down the few stairs to his desk. You stayed hot on his heels, wanting to discuss secrets like you were a kid again. But he still didn’t pay you any attention, making himself busy with the things on his desk, moving what he could to the drawers as if that would help the clutter that always lingered on the surface. .

Purposefully putting yourself in his way, you took a seat in his desk chair, offering your best pleading eyes as you looked up at him, “Please?”

“It’s a secret! What if I told you and then you told them?” Spencer finally did look down to you, and for the first time you saw a bit of irritation in the way he was looking at you, but his voice still stayed low in the near whisper you had been maintaining.

“I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.” You tried to reassure him.

“I know but…” You were distracted by the way he bit lip before shaking his head, hair falling from behind his ear. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll tell you who I got.” Was your offered bribe, to level the field of secrets. But Spencer was firm in his decision, shaking his head as he reached for his go-bag. “You’re no fun.” The words seemed to have no effect on him, a small soft smile still pulling at his lips.

“Sorry.” Letting your smile reflect his, you rolled your eyes before going back over to your desk to get ready for the jet, trying not to think about how the anticipation of who got you was going to consume your thoughts.

-

A month had come and gone and five days before Christmas, just as you had returned from what was thankfully a short case, the team managed to hold their little holiday party at Rossi’s. Your gift for Penelope had been something you picked out after a week of consideration and kept put away in a nice gift bag at the back of a drawer that should’ve been full of paperwork.

You weren’t supposed to profile each other, but as the days passed you grew only more curious about who had pulled your name. No one paid you extra attention, no blatant ‘what’s something you want for Christmas’ and in the same way, Spencer never said anything more about Secret Santa or who his pick was. You tried everything to get him to tell you, but he remained firm in his practice of keeping this one thing from you.

It was unanimously decided that Rossi would host the get together like he did all big team events, the team slowly trickling into the house after only having three hours between getting off the jet and agreeing to be there. Once everyone was there, and had their share of snacks from the provided buffet, Penelope gained control of the room like it was the roundtable room all over again. “Okay, this year, whoever has worked in the bureau the longest gets to go first.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks Garcia.” Dave didnt even have to move far, passing a small box to Aaron. You could’ve sworn a “Merry Christmas” was grumbled out, only evidence of so being the smile and laughter that pulled at Aarons mouth as he took the lid off the hand sized box.

“Wow, a gift card to Sutton Suits.” To his credit, Aaron did actually sound excited, which seemed to lighten Rossi for just a minute.

“Tell Oscar I sent you, and he’ll slip a quality cigar into your purchase.”

“Noted.” Their laughter died amongst them as Aaron then passed a red plaid gift wrapped object to Spencer, a sense of wonder settling over the room. Spencer was smiling though, now on the edge of his seat as his fingers slipped along the surface of the gift wrap, looking for a seam.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” He asked in a way that a laugh came out, gently tearing the paper away to reveal another book for Spencer’s collection.

“It’s a compilation of the ranked, most challenging published crossword puzzles from the last 35 years. I thought you’d enjoy.” Aaron explained to both Spencer and the team, your attention captured by Spencer as he pressed his thumb along the edge of the book, flipping through the many crossword puzzles that lined the pages. That one smile you’d grown fond of pulled at the corner of his mouth before he looked back at Aaron, full smile overtaking his face.

“Thank you, Hotch.”

The rest of the exchange went a little something like that. Derek got JJ some gift certificates to a new gym that was opening near her house, and JJ in turn got Derek a bulk bag of door hinges since “you don’t seem to know what those are” but then added he could use them in his house renovations. Penelope got Emily a scrapbook of photos full of Sergio and all the adventures she missed while in WITSEC and Emily got Dave a bottle of whiskey, which he thanked her for getting “the right kind” but then scolded her for spending too much on a gift.

By the time it was your turn, you had realised two things: Spencer hadn’t gone, and no one had given you a gift yet. And you surely hadn’t pulled your name but when you looked over to him, to suggest he go so you could confirm your new forming theory, he wouldn’t look at you. “Has Spencer gone yet?” You asked more so to Penelope, who had essentially made herself the leader of this whole exchange. The puzzled expression of her face held as she looked over to him, a small pout forming on her lips.

“No, no he has not.” The anxiety was creeping up the back of your neck, and just when you thought he had been caught, that you would get your answer, ever the gentleman he was.

“It’s okay, you can go.”

“But you’ve been at the BAU longer.”

“It’s fine. Go.” His voice softly encouraged you from where he sat, next to David’s Christmas tree. Pulling the bag from the side of your chair, you passed the glitter covered gift bag to Penelope, who beamed like she just won the lottery.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” She seemed genuinely excited, weighing the bag in her palm before tearing away at the tissue paper.

“Surprise!” You watched as her jaw fell, hand pulling out the first item. A pink bedazzled stapler, tiny pink rhinestones covering the whole surface.

“Shut up!”

“And there’s pink staples inside, just for you.” Your voice grew quieter as she still seemed ever so thrilled to be opening a present.

She pulled the matching tape dispenser out before finding the pink legal pad and new pink poof pen, one that lit up when the ink was pressed to write. “Where did you find all of this? My dreams?”

“I have my ways.” Putting everything back in the bag, she got up to give you a hug, pulling you tightly into her arms as everyone around you laughed and cheered. Their applause died down when she sat back down, all the attention falling to Spencer.

“Alright lover boy, your turn.” When you watched him then, you could see how nervous he had become, a slight tremble in his hand as he pulled the massive bag from its hiding spot, a bag that stood up to his knee height from the floor.

“You probably figured it out by now.” He whispered to you as he brought the bag closer.

“What’d you get her? Your heart?” Derek remarked from where he sat next to Emily, who was quick to elbow him in the side. Spencer must have registered his words as he had a jerk reaction to it like he briefly choked on something, but he was quick to return to his normal behavior, avoiding your eyes as he returned to his seat. From there though, he seemed more comfortable to make eye contact with you, lips curling in to lick them before trying to find his words again.

“What is it?” You beat him to it, but the smile that had formed on your lips seemed to put him at ease as he reflected it to you.

“Just open it.” Was his simple instruction as he leaned back in his seat, knee bouncing in subtle anticipation. Prying the sealed gift bag open, you were met with a familiar black fabric, though without the pilling that you were almost used to. With both hands you pulled it from the bag on the floor, up into the air to get a better look at it. It was a new black peacoat, your size and everything. Bringing it to your lap, you immediately looked to Spencer who was biting his lip, waiting for your response.

“Thank you!” Were the few words you were able to come up with, the simplicity seeming to make Spencer relax again

“Well come on, try it on for us!” Penelope called from her seat, reminding you that the whole team was watching this gesture in action. Standing, you unfasted the buttons and slipped your arms into the satin lining, already imagining how warm the cold weather cases were going to become.

You tried not to think of the first time Spencer let you borrow his jacket, how it was still warm from his own body heat. How the scents of his cologne and laundry detergent wafted around you like a scarf, forcing you to smell and think of him despite trying to focus on the crime scene you had been visiting that day. How the second and third cold weather case you had again asked for the jacket, but by the fourth and fifth case and so on he had offered it to you, always smiling when you slipped it on. “Borrowing your boyfriends jacket?” Derek had taunted you one day, in earshot of Spencer who failed to fight the blush on his cheeks. It was such a simple thing, but knowing you had your own black peacoat, and that of all people, Spencer, had been the one to get it for you meant everything.

Slipping a hand into a pocket, you felt a piece of paper, small and folded hiding within. Immediately looking back to Spencer, he just offered you a smile and a wink, patting the same spot on his cardigan as if he knew what you were about to say.

“Ooo la la, why have we seen this look on you before?” JJ asked more to the room than you specifically, and again you looked to Spencer, who seemed to be in his own thoughts, a small blush rising to his cheeks.

“Because she always borrows my jacket, I thought she should have one of her own.” There was something in the way he was looking at you, a gentle fondness that you had only ever seen from him a handful of times.

“And all for $25?” Emily added to the questioning. “Where did you get such a deal?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Aaron tried to spare you both and reign in the team. “That is a nice coat though. Well done.” The blush had stayed on his cheeks and while you slipped the coat off your arms, you made sure to reach for the note before slipping the coat back into the bag.

“Now, we eat!” David cheered over the room, everyone vacating their spots to head towards the kitchen. You lingered in an effort to read the note, opening it in the palm of your hand.

“I need to talk to you.” Scribbled Spencer’s hand writing before signing off on it with a singular S.

“Are you coming?” His voice caught your attention, unaware he was beside you this whole time.

“Spencer, I-“

“Later.” He was quick to cut you off before motioning with an extended hand for you to walk in front of him towards the dining table.

-

After dinner, night started to fall noticeably over the Rossi Mansion. All conversations had lost their focus and everyones laughter was bordering into delirious bouts of nonsense. Before anyone could leave, Dave asked that people either make leftover plates to take home or help clean up the dishes into the kitchen so all he really needed to do was wash them (or load the dishwasher, whichever one happened first).

With everyone winding down and getting ready to say their farewells for the evening, you tried to get Spencer alone for just a second, yet he always seemed to find something to do. It wasn’t like he was avoiding you, he kept looking at you, smiling that same soft smile, but he also made an effort to not be alone in the same room as you. “Everything okay?” Derek had asked as you watched Spencer and Penelope clean up the wrappings and trash of the Secret Santa gift exchange.

“He’s avoiding me.”

“What?”

“He bought me this nice ass jacket and now he’s avoiding me.” You mused aloud, never bothering to actually look at Derek, still watching how Spencer would bend down to reach between the chairs for scraps of torn gift wrap. “Why would he do that?”

“Listen, we are profilers,” Derek started, now also watching Spencer, “but there’s no science for what goes on in his mind.”

“I-” Were you really about to air out your inner thoughts to Derek, surely the one person on the team who would give you advice if not for the cost of also holding those same thoughts over your head later? “I need to talk to him. But he’s…” Your words fell short as you watched Spencer look around the living room, confirming all the trash had been picked up. He started pulling on his sweater before he looked at you, saw Derek, and immediately turned to Penelope and Emily to offer his assistance in loading their cars. “Avoiding me.”

“It’s not you.”

“What?”

“He’s avoiding himself.”

“It’s Spencer. He-” You thought about how forward everything had been. The jacket, the note, the concept of the present itself. How one minute he was confident and charming and the next second he was unsure and slightly distant. “Why would he do that?”

“Say the first part of your sentence again.” A chuckle came from Derek’s lips as you thought it over: It’s Spencer.

“Why would he do that?” You repeated, hoping to maybe get a different answer from him.

Taking too much enjoyment in the obvious pining, Derek just laughed, “Back to the first answer: there’s no logic, rhyme or reason.”

“It’s Spencer.” You concluded aloud now for your own understanding, hoping everything would start to make sense.

“You got it.”

Spencer had come back inside just for Dave to start corralling everyone out of the house. “You don’t have to go home, but you cannot stay here.” He had said as everyone started to say their final goodbyes for the night. There were hugs all around, many variations of holiday wishes for the extended weekend everyone was about to embark on.

“Hey, can you give Spencer a ride home?” Emily had asked as she pulled away from her goodbye hug.

“Excuse me?” He called several feet away from where he had been on the fringes of a conversation between Aaron and JJ.

“Is everything okay?” You had asked her, looking her once over as if the answer was somewhere on her person.

“Yeah. Penelope ordered something to my address and I’m supposed to drop it off at her apartment after and, well I forgot. Besides, don’t want to keep Reid out past his bedtime.” She had tried to joke but he crossed over to your conversation now, slight upset over his face.

“I don’t have a bedtime!” He had tried to protest.

All to be met with a “yes you do,” from the members of the team that were still left. The pout in protest pulled his bottom lip out from under his top, and he finally turned to look at you. His attention shouldn’t have felt like a reward, but being treated with an imaginary ten foot pole in his attempt to keep distance wasn’t a fond feeling either.

You tried to offer him some semblance of comfort but he just turned on his heels to grab his bag from Emily’s car, sulking back over to your car. “Good luck.” Emily whispered to you before turning back to her car.

Climbing into your car, you noticed how Spencer was content to sit completely still and rigid in his seat, his knee bouncing as he brought his fingers to press to his lips.

“Are you okay?” It was an attempt at bursting the bubble that had formed around you two, keeping you in separate worlds from the other.

“I’m fine.” He huffed, answer too short and to the point.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not.” You heard it then. The rise of an octave, the unbelievable deflection.

“You are.” He settled further into his seat as you drove out of the DC suburbs and closer to where your apartments were. “Did I do something wrong?” Your voice fell then, insecurity creeping in at the thought that maybe you had unknowingly done something to upset him.

“What?” His voice wasn’t high in pitch this time, but soft in tone as he snapped his attention to you. “Why would you think-”

“Well, you gave me a really nice gift and asked to speak to me later and then spent the rest of the evening avoiding me. So I thought maybe I just did something to offend you, so…”

“I’m not… offended.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I,” his head fell back, hitting the head rest before he blew out some air from his pressed lips, looking over to you to watch your reaction to his next words, “I like you.”

“Well yeah. I mean we’re friends, have been friends for quite some time now.”

“No, I mean… I like you, like you.”

“Oh?” A silence had settled as you both took a moment to take in his words, then hoping the other would say something to end the silence. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” It offered him the chance to laugh. Not like he was insulted, but more he thought it was funny that you weren’t sure if he was sure.

“I mean- I think I get it. But why did you spend the rest of the night avoiding me?”

“Because,” you came to a red light while you waited for his answer, looking to him to see he had already been watching you, “I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same.” He started to shy away from you again, eyes avoiding meeting yours no matter how long you thought you’d been staring at him.

“What if I do?” You reached for his hand in between your two seats, fingers gently securing through his, waiting to see if he would pull away. This grabbed his attention, hopeful eyes finally looking into yours now. “What if I do, like you, like you?”

“Then I would be thrilled.” It was sweet, the feeling of understanding, of mutual endearment for the other while he held your hand there, paying no mind to the red light above you both. But like a sign from above, it turned green, reflecting off the interior of the car.

There were so many things you wanted to commit to memory, in the same way he would without half the effort. You wanted to remember the way he looked at you, the way it felt to be under his gaze with this new meaning. You wanted to remember the way it felt to hold his hand, or the way it felt to have his thumbing small circles into your hand. The way you couldn’t fight the smile as it took over your lips, or the way he seemed to feel the same way. But most of all, you wanted to remember how it felt to be in that moment with him, mind swimming with possibilities of what this would mean for the future.

-

Tell me what you think here.

[mull3ts]

— ONE WAY TiCKET

— Did you ever want a one way ticket into someone's deepest secrets, feelings, obsessions, and weaknesses? I heard a yes! Then look no further than One Way Ticket—you'll learn about various men's secrets that they swore to either take to the grave or make public. All of their deepest darkest weaknesses all on display for you! (Talk about vulnerability...) Have fun going through all of the fun (Less than moral) things you'll uncover! After all, you do have a one way ticket to the maybe not so well kept secrets of the hottest men out there. Use it wisely, or else you might as well find an angry wife. You know what they say! Crying is for wives.

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Smut (18+), Dilfs & Stepcest (Stepfathers and stepbrothers), infidelity, do not continue if you are not comfortable with any of the warnings.

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Dilf! Stepfather! Jaemin

I meant it when I said less than moral, who wouldn't want to spend the summer with your very own stepfather: Mr. Na Jaemin. Jaemin had met you before he'd met your nother and from that moment on, he knew you were practically the one for him but one problem though—he was in some sort of entanglement with your mother. However, there is always something called a compromise and in the mean time—you'd do whatever he asks of you.

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐃𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Dilf! Stepfather! Yuta

With your stepdad, he makes everything feel like 100 degrees. And while it really might feel like 100 degrees outside, Mr. Nakamoto Yuta makes it feel so much hotter. Yuta doesn't really mind though, he can take the heat, he can take it all he wants—but you? Well, he's not quite sure. And what better way is there to eliminate uncertainty than with a fun little test drive? It surely can't hurt anybody.

𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Dilf! Mark

Mark Lee is a responsible man. He knows exactly what he's doing and how to do it, always. The once shy and timid young man in him has dissipated into who he is today—a man who knows a thing or two. So when you come strolling your way into his life acting the way you do, he can't help but knock some sense into you!

𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐘?

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Dilf! Stepfather! Jeno

You are truly an enigma to Lee Jeno, your all too crisp and clean stepfather who appears to honestly either wear suits or a wife beater shirt—that's it. On the outside you seem like a perfectly confident young woman who's striving to do her best in post-secondary education. However, with him, you can't even look him in the eyes half the time.

𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐈𝐓!

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Dilf! Jaemin, Bunny Hybrid! Reader

He can't help it, he wish he could sometimes, but he can't! He knows what Jeno said about making impulsive purchases, but of course, Jaemin believes (and knows) you're absolutely not an impulsive purchase. So, he takes on the challenge of taking the best care of you—his "pretty, pretty bunny". Personally, you think this “Mr. NaNa” is kinda cool to be around.

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Dilf! Johnny

You almost sob when your puppy decides to jump over the fence into the lawn of Mr. Johnny Suh. There was no way you were going to just knock on his door and ask for your puppy back, not when you once had an incident with him. While your helpless puppy is in Mr. Suh's care, he finds a way to torment you through his window.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Dilf! Stepfather! Johnny

He just wants to touch you for a minute! He's never felt quite this jealous, but he feels jealous now—who does this boy think he is? He wants to do so, so many things to you but, he's afraid of what might happen after...or not happen. Maybe three seconds is enough for his heart to quit it.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐄

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Dilf! Stepfather! Jaehyun

Jaehyun is supposed to know better. He knows better. He knows so much better, so he thinks of a plan. He's not exactly sure it'll be pretty but, it'll leave him a single man again who's more than welcome to court you the proper way and maybe not in the stepdad way. What he wasn't expecting was all the questions you had for him.

!BONUS! 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

⚠︎ WARNiNGS | Dilf! Stepfather! Johnny

Johnny doesn't like to waste time, so to put it in the most simplest way possible—he does everything better.

[ JOiN THE TAGLiST ] — © mull3ts/earth-to-that-asian, 2023

[teyammybeloved]

heyyy I saw your fanfic about the mental health and depression things and I would loveeee if you would write one about the reader self harming and Miguel finds out and comforts them🧡 I’ve struggled with self harm and depression and your fics help so much!

JUST HOLD ON

miguel o’hara

summary; miguel’s heart breaks when he finds out what you do to yourself

warnings; mentions of self harm, comfort, swearing, could be very poorly written and im so so so sorry if it is xx

an; thank you for requesting, i want to remind everyone that i am in NO WAY romanticising self harm or mental health problems, i wanted to make this series to help people who dont have somewhere to go or someone to talk to, these are purely just comfort fics

i also want to say, youre not alone, and i know self harm is a coping mechanism for many, myself included, but there is so many other healthy ways to cope and i want everyone to know that if you ever ever ever need anybody to talk to, im always here and i want to do my best to make sure youre all okay.

long sleeves, jumpers, scafs, bandaids, bracelets. you were always wearing one or the other. miguel never asked why, he thought maybe you just found it more comfortable.

the entire time you and miguel had been dating, and in a relationship, it had been the cold seasons of the year, and now with summer coming in quick, you were stressing.

miguel isn’t stupid, he would wonder why you’re wearing a jumper or a long sleeve in ridiculous heat, he would question it, and that set you off in a panic.

it was fine, during the day when miguel was at the HQ doing his spider business, but when he got home, your mind went crazy.

although, to you, you did a good job hiding it.

“im home!” miguel says, your eyes widen as you get off the couch quickly, “one sec!” you reply, running up to your bedroom to get a jumper, quickly throwing on the first one you can find, you go back to meet miguel.

you wrap your arms around him, he does the same, squeezing you tightly. “how was your day?” you ask, as you let go of him, walking to the kitchen to start with dinner.

“not bad.. newbies are always rough” miguel says softly, leaning against the wall in the kitchen. “baby” he says softly.

you hum in response, occupied by cutting vegetables. “why do you have the AC on, while wearing a jumper?” he wasn’t mad, he was genuinely just wondering.

regardless you freak, trying to come up with an explanation, “my top half was cold” you say, shrugging.

miguel laughs, “do you need some help?” he says, leaning off of the wall to come up next to you,

“yes, boil some water”

miguel wasn’t stupid. he knew you better then he knew himself, and he knew your top half was always hotter then your bottom half, you were always wearing pants and rubbing your sleeves over your legs.

so he was confused.

it had been like this for a while now, little things would concern miguel but he didn’t want to bring them up, incase they were nothing.

today was weird though, while you were still asleep, in bed, miguel had to get ready for the day, looking in the laundry for a pair of socks, he finds one of your tshirts.

he ignored it at first, before he saw the red stains along the sleeves, his mind first went to, ‘that time of the month’ but you don’t get that in your arm.

he frowns, confused. deciding to figure it out later.

“lyla, do you know whats up with y/n” he asks softly, trying to stay focused on his work, but concern filled his body.

“what do you mean” she asks back, miguel sighs. “tell a soul, and i will literally end your existence” he says, “okok! just say it”

“i don’t think ive ever seen y/n’s arms”

“you think she doesn’t have arms?”

“no- shut up. like shes always wearing long sleeves, or jumpers, or her wrists are covered in bracelets.”

“oh miguel” lyla frowns. “what- what does that mean”

“obviously i cant be 100% sure, i don’t know personally, but it very much could be her trying to hide something..” she says.

“what?” miguel asks, shaking his head “hide what?”

“this isn’t my place to tell, just talk to her”

when miguel came home that evening, he was even more confused and concerned then he was when he left in the morning. he called out, but didn’t get a response, he hums.

he finds you in the living room, asleep on the couch, he smiles softly before he notices your arm.

no long sleeve, no jumper, no bracelets.

his eyes widen as he looks at the blood stains on your arm, the tissue in your other hand, covered in blood. if it was just one miguel would just assume it was an accident.

but he sees it, all of it, the numerous scas, fresh and old cuts, he can feel his stomach drop. next to the paper he finds a small razor, he picks it up quickly, throwing it out before he comes back, taking a deep breath.

“y/n” he says softly, you were a light sleeper, “mm?” you reply, until something must of clicked in your brain.

you sit up quickly, pulling you arm to your chest, youre pale like you have seen a ghost, miguel is heartbroken.

“come with me” he says softly, you pause for a minute as he starts walking, but when he turns around to you, you stand up and follow him.

into your bedroom, he tells you to sit on the bed, before he goes into the bathroom for a moment. “miguel- im sorry” you finally say.

he doesn’t reply, coming out with a first aid kit, kneeling on the ground in front of you. wiping your arm, so damn gently.

he continues to clean and bandage your arm, without saying anything before he sits next to you on the bed.

you have tears in your ears, and a yuck feeling in your stomach, “come here” miguel says, lifting you onto his lap, facing him, he wraps his arms around you.

“im sorry, miggy”

“don’t apologise baby, you don’t have to feel bad about this okay? you have done nothing wrong”

“i-“

“i want you to know, im here, im going to be here regardless of what happens, okay? this isn’t healthy, baby. but i know its a coping mechanism for you, we just gotta find a healthier one, together yeah?”

“yeah” you say softly, buried in his neck.

“i hate knowing you’ve been hurting yourself baby, someone is hurting my special girl, and i had no idea” he says, looking at you as he moves your hair behind your ear.

you frown, as you look up at him. “no more” you say.

“no more” he agrees.

“i want you to promise me, that if you need me or ever think about doing it again, you will get me straight away, i don’t care whats happening or what im doing, youre my priority, always”

“i love you miggy, i promise”

“i love you too, cmon, lets get you changed then watch allll the rom coms you want” he says, kissing your face.

[miniwheat77]

Vanilla. (Detective!Graves x Reader.)

!violence, reader is injured, alcohol, blood, violence, smut, unprotected p in v sex, heed the warnings, you’ve been warned. NO MINORS!

“Graves, there’s a call on line one waiting for you.”

He nods his head as he walks in the door, he hasn’t even clocked in yet and there’s already something waiting for him. “Yeah they’re going to have to wait, I just got a call about a disturbance at the Lions Den.” His partner, Diane says.

“Where Summer is missing from?” He asks. She nods her head. “Alright, let’s go. Tell them I’ll call them back.” He nods to the receptionist.

Phillip Graves lives in a small town. The police station he works at has very few cops which means despite his title as a detective, he’s still going out on calls like this. This one is important though.

The Lions Den is a popular bar/club. It’s got its popularity because it’s within walking distance of the only college in town. It’s been popular for years and years. But recently, it’s become a concern. It was the last place Summer Pennington was ever seen. They’ve been investigating everything since it happened a couple weeks previously but they’ve run out of leads.

Hearing that there’s a disturbance there has Graves’ hair standing up. He hopes it’s nothing bad.

He pulls into the gravel parking lot and hurries out of his car. Both him and Diane making their way inside.

It looks normal. The cracked black marble floor is covered in people. Inebriated and dancing like there’s nothing going on. The lights are flashing and it’s a good 10 degrees hotter inside. He makes his way up to the bar. “Hey, we got a call about a disturbance?” He asks, he’s confused. “Oh! Right. Hold on.” The girl turns her back to him. “Y/N!” She calls.

A girl emerges and he swallows hard at her appearance.

She’s got her hair tied back in a messy ponytail and she’s got a tight black v-neck on. Which appears to be the outfit of choice for the bartenders. She fills it out well, and she’s real pretty. “Hi.” She says. She swallows hard, seemingly distressed but hiding it well. “A regular, he uh. He got mad because I had to cut him off and he hit me with a mug.” She shrugs. Only then does he see the blood beginning to trickle from her hair line.

A beer mug.

A fucking beer mug.

“He went out the back.”

Graves radios to Diane where the suspect went, giving her a description. Turning his attention back to you.

“Do you need me to call anyone? A beer mug is one hell of an object to get hit with.” He sits down at the bar. Seeing her smile. “Ah, it’s not my first time.” You laugh. He can see your eyes are drowsy. “I’ll be alright, thank you though.”

“Hey. While I’m here.” He sits up. “I talked to a couple of bartenders here a few months back about cameras outside, but they said they didn’t have access to them. Do you know who I could talk to about seeing those?” He asks. “Of course, that’s me actually.” You smile. You throw your towel down, making your way around the bar. He follows after you when you push through the crowd, entering a blacked out door in the back. You close it and the music is muffled. He can finally hear himself think. “This is about that girl right?” You ask. He nods his head. “Yeah, the one who went missing from here.” You nod your head, typing away at the computer. “Are you the owner?” He asks.

“Oh.. no. I just manage it.” You smile. “The owners.. they kinda helped me out when I was a teenager. I take care of the bar, they guarantee me a job. I was a troubled teen so they helped me get on my feet.” You explain.

He nods his head. ���What day was it she went missing?” You look up at him. The way you look up at him through your lashes has blood pooling in his lower stomach. Your eyes pierce right through him. He clears his throat. “Uh.. April 24th.” He nods. “Someone last seen her around midnight.”

He nods his head. “Alright.”

He sees you digging through footage, pulling up the date he’s said. You open up the footage from that night. You drag the cursor over the little white bar at the bottom and he watches. You move it slow, and he watches the screen.

“There.” He mumbles. He moves in closer to you and you notice the smell of his cologne immediately, body going stiff from his close proximity. He gets eyes on Summer and the both of you watch the night unfold. She’s dancing, seemingly having a normal night until a girl and a guy come in. Summer seems to start trouble with the two, thus getting asked to leave. The three of them leave, going different ways. Summer disappears down the street and he watches her dark form disappear slowly. “So she didn’t go missing from here.” He sighs. “I remember them arguing that night.” You turn to look at him. “She called the guy Aaron. And I know for sure she was going to the college down the street, she’d been in here a couple times wearing the schools clothing.” You explain. “You mind coming down to the station? I’d like to get a statement.” He asks. “Yeah, sure.”

You stand up, following him out of the office. You make sure the bartenders don’t need any help before following him to his police car.

“I’ve got the suspect, he put up a good fight but I’m on my way back to the station with him.” Diane radios to him and he smiles.

—

“You want something to drink sweetheart?” He asks. “Oh.. no. I’m alright.” You smile. You’ve got a pretty smile.

He sits down across from you. A notebook and pen in his hand. As he sits, he can’t help but notice the smell of your perfume. It’s a mix of Vanilla and something he’s not familiar with. The scent invades his senses and he gets stoved up for a minute. He hates that you get him so foggy without even trying.

“Alright. So I’m just gonna ask a few questions and try to get through this as fast as possible. I don’t want to keep you.” He explains.

“So, Summer got into a disagreement and on the footage it seems like you’re the one who intervened, do you remember what it was about?”

You nod your head. “Yeah. I heard Summer getting upset with the two because Summer and the boy had dated previously and I guess she didn’t like seeing him with the girl he was with. His name was Aaron, and I’m pretty sure she said the girls name was Maddie, I’m not entirely sure but I think that’s what I heard.” You explain. He nods his head. “Summer was pretty drunk, started threatening the two so I asked her to leave and the other two left right with her.” He’s listening and writing notes down.

He asks a few more questions but when he’s done, he takes you back to the bar. He even stays behind, having a couple drinks before he went back to his job. It’s the thing about being a small town detective. Nobody can replace you.

He makes small talk with you, finding out that you live in a tiny apartment above the lions den itself which he thinks is cute. But he wants to know more about you.

When he leaves, he leaves his card with you. Letting you know that if you need anything at all, send him a text or give him a call.

———

It’s always you who cleans up at the end of the night. The other bartenders do a sub par job, but you can’t stand the smell of Vomit and Sweat. So almost every night, you’re up late scrubbing the floors. This night though, is different.

It’s just reached two in the morning, the lions den closes at one.

You’re sweeping beneath the tables and that’s when something shiny catches your eye. A silver snake skin handbag. Without thinking, you pick it up and throw it down on the table. Finishing sweeping.

Once you’re happy with the way the floors look, you turn your attention back to the handbag. Lifting it back up. Maybe the contents inside would help you get a name. You unzip it and look inside. There’s a few old cards and receipts. You find a drivers license, pulling it out. Chills shoot down your spine when you see her photo. The name on the ID reads ‘Summer Pennington’

It wouldn’t seem so chilling, but since you lived just above the bar and cleaned these floors every single night.

Someone had to have placed it there.

You make sure the door is locked before digging your phone out of your pocket, making your way into the office where you had placed his card.

You lift it up, typing the numbers into the keypad on your phone and ringing him.

You only hope he’ll pick up this late.

“Hello?”

His voice is hoarse and he’s got a morning voice going. If the situation weren’t so dire, you’d probably find it somewhat attractive.

“Sorry to bother you so late detective..” you breathe. “But I’ve just found Summers handbag. And it wasn’t here last night.” He perks up when he hears it. “Alright. Lions den?” He asks. “Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in 5 sweetheart.”

The pet name leaves his lips before he can stop himself and he hangs up before he embarrasses himself any further. He gets out of his bed and throws on a pair of jeans. He’d usually dress up but since it’s so late, he doesn’t think much of it. He grabs his keys off of the table by his door and makes his way out to his car. The cold air nips at his skin, he should’ve put on a jacket. He climbs into his car, starting it and speeding out of the driveway to get to the Lions Den. Theres no more time to waste.

He speeds the entire way there, luckily it’s not too far from his house. He pulls into the parking lot and parks his car right in front of the doors, climbing out of his car. He walks right inside. Seeing you cleaning behind the bar. “Hey. It’s right there. I put everything back and left it alone.” You breathe. “Are you sure it hasn’t been here this whole time?” He asks. You shake your head. “No, I scrub these floors almost every night, I would’ve seen it.” He nods his head. He makes his way over to the purse, thinking of who he should call this late. “If someone put it there, it had to have been seen on the cameras right?” He asks. You nod your head. You make your way around the bar, walking toward the office in the back. He follows right behind you. You sit down at the desk, typing away at the computer. He waits impatiently.

Once you’ve got the footage pulled up, you’re both watching the screen like hawks. Eyeballing the table where you found her handbag.

You see nothing after a few minutes, but than a gleam catches your eye.

“It’s there.” You mumble, pulling the tab back over the white line.

You watch a man enter the doors and make his way right to the table. Sitting down there for just a second before standing up and making his way to the bar. Graves sees his face and scoffs. “Aaron.”

“Aaron put it there.”

He shakes his head. “Alright. I’m going to take her handbag and head the station first thing in the morning. You make sure to lock up after me alright?” He looks at you. Seeing you nod your head.

You’ve got a bare face. All of your makeup is washed off and your hair is tied back. You’ve got more comfortable clothes on as well. He has to tear his eyes away from you. Saying goodbye as he leaves out the door. He knows there isn’t much he can do right now, not until he has Diane with him. But he can at least scope out where Aaron lives. He unlocks his car and climbs inside. Waiting a second to make sure you lock yourself inside the building. He takes a deep breath, lifting up his laptop and typing in Aaron’s in the police database.

Unfortunately the list is long, for such a small town there’s a lot of Aaron’s who commit crimes.

It takes him a few minutes of scrolling before he comes across a photo of Aaron and figures out he got arrested a few weeks back for domestic abuse.

The chilling part?

The girl was Summer.

How did they not know this when she went missing?

He shakes his head. Digging further and further in until he figures out his last known address and he decides to scope the place out for the night. Making sure to stop by the 24 hour coffee shop. Thank god for Coffee.

He parks on the street a couple houses down, recognizing the vehicle out front. He seen it at the Lions den the other night.

He doesn’t see anything for a couple hours and gets bored. Deciding to search more people through the database. The only way they’ll appear is if they’ve been arrested and fingerprinted.

He briefly remembers you saying you used to be a troubled teen, so he types in your name. Surprised when you appear high up on the list. Your mugshot is clearly a photo of you while you’re inebriated. He can tell by the sly smile and bloodshot eyes. He sees that you’ve been arrested for couple of small things. Public intoxication, probation violations, a couple from fighting. He laughs to himself. You seem so well put together for someone who’s got such a bad track record. But he can tell these charges are old. It’s been quite some time since your last arrest.

Once six am rolls around, he’s dialing Diane first thing and getting a warrant for Aaron’s house.

It’s late afternoon when they finally have it, and they load up the squad car. Graves drives and Diane is in the passenger seat. They don’t know how this is going to go, so they prepare for the worst. Wearing vests and planning to be as careful as possible. Graves pulls right into the driveway and they both move quickly. Getting out of the car and making their way up to the front door. Graves knocks normally, and is surprised when Aaron opens the door. “What the hell?” He gasps. Raising his hands up immediately. “Keep your hands where I can see them Aaron. Don’t do anything crazy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Summer has been missing for the last couple months. Do you know anything about that?” He asks, moving to handcuff Aaron. “What? Of course not!”

“Than why were you at the Lions Den last night? Hm? We have you on video staging her handbag in there.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Diane. Load him up, I’m going to look around.”

Diane nods her head. Graves keeps his gun drawn, just in case there’s any more people he needs to look out for. He makes his way through the entire house and it’s clean, but he discovers that there’s a basement.

He opens up the door, and it’s pitch black down there. He makes his way down the stairs, flicking on a light switch when he sees one. What he sees inside has his heart falling into his stomach. He can see a woman slumped over, she’s handcuffed to a pipe. He rushes over to her, checking to see if she has a pulse. She shrinks away from his touch and he inhales a deep breath, thank god. He tilts her head to get a good look at her and realizes that it’s Summer.

He’s found her.

He calls for backup immediately and Diane takes Aaron down to the station. He’s not getting out of this one.

“Hey. It’s alright.”

Summer finally starts to stir, she’s clearly drugged.

“I’m detective Phillip Graves, I’m here to get you out of here.” He breathes. He unlocks the handcuffs and lifts her up. He has to get her out.

———

It takes a few days for everything to settle.

Summer is in the hospital recovering, Aaron is locked up tight behind bars.

Graves hasn’t spoken to you, but he figures he will now.

The case is sure to hit the news anytime now, it’s alright if you’re the first to find out.

“Hey. That cute detective is out at the bar asking for you.” Another bartender comes into the office. You laugh. “You can send him back here.” You roll your eyes. She disappears from the doorway and a moment later, he’s knocking gently at the frame. “Hey.” He smiles. “Hi. Everything okay?” You ask. “Yeah, yeah. Everything is great.” He closes the door. “Actually wanted to come let you know that we found Summer.”

“Seriously?” You look up at him. “Yeah. She’s alive, just recovering.”

“That’s.. wow. That’s awesome.” You breathe. “How did you find her?”

“Got a warrant for Aaron’s house, he had her locked up in his basement.”

“Jesus Christ, seriously? What a psycho!” You breathe. “Yeah. But he’s off the streets. He’s going to prison for a while and she’s recovering.”

You smile. “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, and I wanted to come say thanks. Your cameras and cooperation have been the sole reason we were able to solve this.”

“Well. If you want to stay for a drink, we close in about 10 minutes.” You smile. “Sure. I’d like that.”

“I was going to come sooner but I just got off work.” He laughs. “Been doing paperwork in my office.”

“Boy I felt that one.” You laugh, slapping a hand down onto the stack of paperwork you’ve got sitting on the desk.

The both of you make small talk for a while, until the bar officially closes and all of the employees have left. Not before giving you grief about leaving you alone with a man of course. Lots of winks as they walked out the door. You made sure to lock it after them. You pour him a drink, and make small talk with him while you clean. When you finish, you stand on the other side of the bar and he takes in your appearance. Apron and that black v-neck you usually wore.

“You know.. it really pissed me off the first time I came in here. Hearing that guy hit you with a fucking beer mug.”

You laugh, looking down. “Yeah.. I wasn’t too happy when he hit me with it, trust me.” You laugh. He smiles. “Yeah. If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t too kind to him when we brought him in.” You smile. “Do you have anything at all to protect yourself in here?” You smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” You laugh.

“I would yeah.”

You smile, reaching down just beneath you, raising up the little cubby. You can feel the cool metal on your hand, raising it up and setting it on top of the bar. Making sure the barrel is pointed away from him. “Damn.” He laughs. “All my bartenders are trained to use it. Nobody knows it’s back here.” You pull it back. “Better stay that way.” You narrow your eyes at him, seeing him smile. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I have another in my apartment upstairs. But.. that stays up there just in case.”

He laughs.

“You know. You’re a real pretty girl.”

“Thank you.” You laugh, looking down. “For a heathen.”

You look up at him, through your eyelashes. “I don’t think you know the half of it, Detective Graves.”

“I think your file told me everything I needed to know about you.” He brings the glass of whiskey up to his lips. “You looked me up?” You laugh. “Maybe. Hey, as far as I was concerned you were a suspect.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds like excuses. If you wanted to know so bad you could’ve asked.” You lean over the bar. His eyes flicker to your chest for just a second. You don’t miss it.

“Must be pretty interested if you’re looking me up.” You make your way around the bar, going to sit next to him but he grasps your arm. He slides off of the bar stool. “Yeah. Maybe I am.” He laughs. He pins you between him and the bar, the wood digging into your back. “But you don’t seem to have much of a problem with that. Don’t see you trying to get away.”

You smile, eyes moving to his lips and back to his eyes. “Didn’t want to.”

“You’re bold.” He laughs. Sliding his hand onto your hip, leaning in. “So you won’t mind if I…” he pushes your hair behind your ear. “Just kiss me.” You roll your eyes, grasping his tie. You pull him into you and his lips are finally on yours. He moves both of his hands to rest at your hips as he kisses you, pulling you into him more. He glides his hand lower on your hips and pulls you into him, his front pressed firmly up against yours. He’s a good kisser.

He glides his tongue over your lip, he wants more.

You pull his bottom lip between your teeth and tug gently, feeling him growing hard against you. You rut your thigh into his growing erection and he groans into your lips.

“You sure you want to do this?” He breathes. You bite your own lip, nodding your head. “I can take you up to my apartment. Come on.” You breathe. You grasp his hand, leading him to the back of the bar and up the stairs to your apartment door. You unlock it, stepping inside. He follows in behind you, smiling. It’s a lot nicer than he expected it to be, for being above a dive bar anyways. You keep it nice inside. He chooses to say nothing, as soon as he closes the door he’s pouncing on you again. He’s got his lips on yours and he’s lifting you up, you wrap your legs around his waist and he starts walking toward the hallway where he assumes your bedroom is, guessing correctly. He nudges the first door open with his foot and sees it’s your bedroom and it’s just as well kept. Your bed is made and it’s spotless inside, too bad he’s gonna wreck the bed.

He drops you onto your bed, forcing your legs apart and moving himself between them, grasping the bottom of your shirt and helping you pull it over your head.

His tugs his off immediately after, reaching for his belt.

You push your own pants down your legs, kicking them off. He exposes himself, his pants still sitting at his mid thigh. He moves up onto the bed more, hovering over you. “You look good like this.” He breathes. “Gonna look even better when I’m done with you.” He smirks, lining himself up with your entrance.

You gasp as he slides into you, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. He laughs at the gasp you let out at the intrusion. “Fuck.. you’re tight baby.” He hisses. He raises your thighs up slightly, getting a better angle to reach deeper inside of you. You cry out as he slides right into your spongy spot. Your thighs start to shake. “F-fuck.” You shiver. “You’re really good at this.” You whine out. He can’t help but laugh. “You’ve never had good experiences have you?”

You look up at him, crimson creeping up your cheeks. “No.” You shake your head. You’re still breathing heavier than you were before, which tells him you’re getting overwhelmed which is exactly what he wants. It’s been a while for Phillip but that means nothing. He’ll never forget how to please a woman, he knows exactly what to do. He can read you, and tell what you’re going to like. He doesn’t have all that much experience either but he doesn’t forget. He slides out of you, bringing your thigh over the other until you’re slightly on your side. He slides back into you, giving him a good angle for better access to that spot inside of you, he knows you wont last long like this.

He rests his chest into your back, his breath warm over your ear. “Nothing wrong with that sweetheart.” He chuckles. Chills rise on your skin from him talking right next to your ear. “But I’m gonna change that for you, so just try to relax.” He’s rutting his hips into you and you’re panting slightly. Waiting.

He draws his hips back and thrusts into you, he laughs when your lips part in surprise. He can still smell your vanilla perfume on you. Eyes rolling back as he feels that knot forming in his stomach. “You feel so fucking good baby, so good.” He grits his teeth, eyes screwed shut at he keeps rutting into you, hips moving with yours perfectly. Your thighs shiver, moans flowing from your lips like a river. He’s got you right where he wants you. You’re right on the brink, the warmth building more and more with each draw of his hips. You take in a jagged breath and with one more thrust into that spot inside of you, the tightness unravels, warmth spreading through you. You throb around him as you reach your high, crying out. You flinch away from him, sweet spot abused and sensitive from his perfect thrusts.

He grasps your leg, pulling you back into the missionary position you were in before.

He hisses, clutching your hips hard and taking a couple of extra hard thrusts. He slides out of you just as he reaches the brink. He wraps his hand around the base of his cock and pumps quickly until he’s coating you in his cum. The warm thick ropes have you flinching slightly. Coating your skin on your lower stomach. He laughs once he’s come down from his high. “Fuck.. didn’t expect this tonight.” He sighs. He moves himself until he’s lying next to you.

You’re quiet still. He notices immediately, turning to look at you. Your eyes are slightly wider than before, pupils still blown out. “Hey, you alright?” He tilts your chin to look at him. “Uh- yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” You shake yourself out of the daze he’s put you in. “You sure?” He laughs. “Yeah- I’ve just never… been touched like that before.” You laugh. “What, never cum during sex?” He jokes. “No.”

He pauses. “Really?”

You bite your lip, nervously nodding your head.

“Ah well. Doesn’t matter now cause I’m here.” He laughs. “Was I too rough?” He props his head up onto his hand, his elbow resting on the bed. “No, not at all.” You breathe.

“I don’t usually do this, how about you let me take you on a proper date?” He smiles. You laugh. “Yeah, I hoped you’d ask that after this.” You giggle. Seeing his lips rise into a smile. “Course not. You’re a pretty girl, deserve nice things.” He leans into you, kissing your lips once more.

He stands up, asking where to find a towel to clean you up.

When he’s helped you clean up and you’ve returned your clothes to where they belong, you decide to ask.

“Do you think Summer will be okay?” You ask.

He sighs. “I think she’ll have some trauma from all of this, but I think she’ll be okay. Yeah.” You nod your head. “I’m glad you found her. I was so worried. I had a brand new schedule in the works just in case it was some kind of freak just kidnapping girls.” You sigh. “Really?” He asks. “Yeah, figured if we closed a little earlier the college girls would get home sooner and my girls could get out of here.” He smiles. “You’re a good girl you know that?” He smiles.

“I’m a troubled girl.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be good. Without you we never would’ve found out what happened to Summer. You have to give yourself some more credit here, you’re a smart girl.” He laughs. “I knew I liked you from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He smirks. Seeing your roll your eyes.

“Yeah well, I think you got what you wanted, Detective Graves.”

“Got what I wanted and more, sweetheart.”

[cassius-the-kitten]

General Headcanons (DDADDS x Reader)

warnings: just a lot of x reader fluff, also swearing in some sections, also some alcohol mentions

-

Pairings: Brian Harding x Reader, Hugo Vega x Reader, Robert Small x Reader, Mat Sella x Reader

Brian Harding

Brian loves to cook, even if he’s better at grilling. he will cook you bacon, eggs, sausage, and pancakes every morning. it’s honestly a miracle that nothing ends up burnt, because he does it all at once like some sort of multitasking magician.

he may be a general contractor, but he’s got Very clumsy hands. nothing in his house is glass or ceramic because he WILL drop it. it’s all plastic cups from here on out.

thankfully he is very, very careful and extra mindful when he cooks. to the point where you shouldn’t have a conversation with him during his cooking because he will have a hard time keeping up with you due to the 5 million other things he is doing.

his dadbook profile isn’t wrong. he thinks a lot about how much smarter Daisy is than him.

but in Daisy’s defense, Brian is a himbo, through and through.

he cannot get any social cues ever and is absolutely clueless when someone obviously has a crush on him. he’s the type of guy to think you’re just being nice to him when you’re flirting.

he genuinely just likes having friendly competition, he has no clue why the dadsona seems to hate him and is getting so frustrated with losing.

and Brian’s autistic, which actually makes a lot of sense because of him missing every social cue ever.

over half of his wardrobe is button-up shirts and cargo shorts of various colors. he actually wearing socks and sandals… and even crocs. thankfully he sometimes has the decency to wear normal sneakers or even boots outside.

if you get him a button-up shirt, he will love you forever. he basically collects them.

believe it or not, but Brian was born in Florida. his parents just decided to move up to Massachusetts when he was little. his parents have since then moved back down to Florida for retirement. he and Daisy visit them sometimes for the winter holidays. one time they made the mistake of visiting during summer, and have never visited Florida in summertime since then due to the heat.

he is a very warm man. not just when he’s sleeping. he is a furnace. if you hug him for long enough, you will be sweaty by the time you come out of it.

his love language is physical affection. he just loves to pick up people and hug them and cuddle them whenever it’s socially acceptable to do so.

he’s like a dog sometimes. if you have a job and you get home after he does, he will be ECSTATIC and like Maxwell, will immediately come up to the door to greet you with kisses and hugs.

and like a grizzly bear, he’s pretty fond of fish. Brian just prefers whitefish like cod or haddock to salmon, but he’ll eat pretty much anything you put in front of him.

unless it’s spicy. Brian cannot handle any spice hotter than black pepper. on good days he can eat some semi-spicy chicken wings and enjoy himself, but only if he has a lot of water and coleslaw on hand to eat with it.

Brian actually likes piña coladas. it’s his favorite alcoholic drink besides beer, and it’s usually his second choice if he’s got a sweet tooth that day. but he doesn’t drink that often, actually.

honestly, he’s probably gone to Margaritaville with Joseph at one point. Joseph kinda meant it as a date but Brian had no clue and was so oblivious that Joseph thought that it was on-purpose in a passive-aggressive manner.

Hugo Vega

Hugo is autistic and his special interests are wrestling and literature. Ernest is also autistic. i will die on this hill

sometimes he writes a bit of poetry in his spare time, though he’s quite insecure about it so he has never shown it to anyone. a lot of them have allusions to other pieces of literature or wrestling.

the poetry writing is funny because i imagine that when he was first put into a poetry course in highschool he probably Hated it because he just couldn’t pick up much on the metaphors and the tone of the piece (just like me fr). but later in his life Hugo definitely gained an appreciation for poetry and started to write a bit of it after the divorce just to deal with his feelings.

he’s always willing to give constructive criticism. to anyone. sometimes he comes off as judgemental when he does that and he doesn’t realize it

Hugo speaks Spanish fluently, and knows a little bit of French. he actually grew up speaking Spanish and English in a bilingual household because his parents immigrated from Mexico.

he also celebrates Día de los Muertos and has since he was a child. it is his favorite holiday due to the symbolism, even if he ends up just celebrating it from home with Ernest. it’s actually one of the few things they still bond over — just decorating, making food, and Hugo going over some family history with Ernest.

this man works hard to keep his house as clean as possible. and he works hard to try and get Ernest to clean his room, which works maybe half the time. sometimes Hugo caves in and can’t help but to go in there and clean it himself if it gets bad and Ernest is out. he makes sure to try and put everything back where he found it, unless it was on the floor. then he puts it on Ernest’s bed.

Hugo isn’t much of a movie or TV show type of guy, unless they are an adaptation of a book. then he reads the book and then watches the movie\TV show. then he writes a review of it to get his thoughts and feelings out, and he Will send it to you if he trusts you enough. but only if you’ve watched it. Hugo believes heavily in the sanctity of not giving out unwanted spoilers.

he’s got a guilty pleasure of watching bad horror movies. this is canon. go replay Hugo’s second date and you will find this piece of dialogue which i hold near to my heart.

he can’t really handle good horror movies. horror movies that are good at scaring people, anyway.

he could probably crush a watermelon between his thighs. or his arms. if you ask him if he could crush a watermelon, he would be Very confused because he doesn’t know the trend(? was it a trend or did i imagine that???)

“…what? Why would I want to crush a watermelon between my thighs? I don’t like watermelon. Neither does Ernest. Honestly, I don’t know the last time he’s ever willingly eaten a vegetable or fruit.”

but then he’d be very surprised if you showed him videos of people doing it. he’d just stare with interest, impressed by the muscles.

if you manage to do it, he’ll actually start blushing so hard that he has to try and hide his face.

speaking of, he actually does try to hide his face a lot when he realizes he’s blushing. it’s very cute because he also can’t hold back a very embarrassed smile when he does so.

Mat Sella

Mat’s kind of a punk, alternative, and rock music guy, but he also really likes R&B, indie, and even some of those catchy pop songs.

his handwriting is very, very neat and pretty. he writes in cursive a lot, but only because he thinks it’s pretty and he’s just used to writing in it a lot.

he takes very, very good care of his hair. he also is the one mainly taking care of Carmensita’s hair, since she has a general disregard for taking the leaves and twigs out of it after she plays outside. so Mat is the one doing hair clean-up duty all the time.

he also cleans Carmensita’s glasses after she comes inside after playing. because she refuses to clean her glasses.

thankfully, Mat is good at cleaning and likes to clean. obviously he bakes almost every other day for both the Coffee Spoon and himself. music is playing on the record player while he’s baking or cleaning, unless he’s doing some late-night cleaning when Carmensita is asleep; that’s one of the few times he wears headphones in the house

he takes headphones with him everywhere he goes, though. he has a little bowl next to the front door with his keys and headphones in it so he doesn’t forget them

he loves coffee, to say the least. he brews a cup every morning, it’s almost like a ritual to him at this point. he just enjoys the process and relishes in it every day. it’s almost like it’s own type of therapy for him.

if it turns out that you don’t like coffee, however — he will act like a normal person and say “oh, okay” and just not make you drink coffee. he’s a little disappointed that he won’t be able to share his morning coffee time with both of you having a cup.

but if you at all try to join him on his coffee time with your own drink, just sitting in the morning and soaking up the sunlight and happy silence, he’ll be over the moon sharing that time.

we all know that he has the tendency to talk too much when he’s anxious, so moments like these where you’re just sitting together, mostly silent, is his favorite.

Mat just isn’t much of a talker when he’s super comfortable. so cuddling will be pretty quiet, too.

Mat grew up with cats, and absolutely adores them to the point where he is so tempted to turn the Coffee Spoon into a cat cafe. the only reason he hasn’t adopted any cats is because each time he is confronted with the idea he is incapable of making any decision and gets anxious.

but if you like cats, you’re totally getting a cat together. especially if you give him any kind of confidence when you’re around, like Rosa used to.

Mat isn’t an alcohol kind of guy. not since Carmensita was born, anyway. he also just doesn’t really like the taste of beer and other alcoholic drinks. he prefers the bitter coffee taste (couldn’t be me).

Mat does drink tea sometimes, but not often. maybe once a month he treats himself to a cup of tea.

Rosa actually really liked tea, so part of the reason Mat doesn’t drink it that often is because it reminds him of Rosa.

Robert Small

the man is Big. 6’3” and pretty chunky, so yeah. he’s pretty intimidating, and not just because of his RBF (resting bitch face).

speaking of RBF, he looks constantly mildly ticked off when in reality he is thinking about what he’s having for dinner. sure, he has plenty of other expressions, but they’re not quite as common as his “looks like he’s thinking of committing multiple crimes” look.

this man wakes up with some serious bedhead — hair sticking up in all sorts of directions, not because of the way he sleeps but because of Betsy. sometimes she gets up and sleeps right next to his head. and sometimes she gives Robert’s hair a bit of a nibble.

he really gives the whole “raccoon at the dumpster” type of look.

sometimes he volunteers at the animal shelter but only really late in the day when nobody except Mary is there. he usually brings a flask of whiskey with him to share with her, but Mary isn’t super keen on drinking around the animals.

he’s more like a cat than he is a dog. he likes to just sit in the general vicinity those he likes without saying anything while they talk for hours on end and he gives acknowledging feedback. usually just a blink and a nod.

but sometimes, very rarely, if he loves likes you enough, he’ll smile as he stares right at you, saying nothing.

if you end up dating him and move in with him, you could be doing literally anything and then turn around to find him staring at you with a smile that he tries to hide. sometimes he can’t believe that he’s in a healthy relationship after all the heartache he’s suffered.

but it’s also unnerving when you do something kinda embarrassing, like struggling to find a midnight snack, and then you just turn around and this big old man is just staring at you like my a cat waiting for you to go back to your bedroom.

remember how i said he’s more cat than dog? scratch that. if you have a job or god forbid, leave home without him, he will wait for you to come home. he will check the front door any time he hears even a little noise, very excited to see you, until he realizes you’re not home yet.

he counts down the hours and minutes until you get home from work. if it was socially acceptable for him to drive you to work and sit in your work’s parking lot the entire time and spend it waiting for you, he would do it.

if he can go with you somewhere, he will. even if it’s a 5 minute trip to the grocery store and it will take him longer to get dressed than to go with you, you better wait because he is coming with.

the second you come through that door? he is getting up off the couch that he moved to purely so he would be closer to the door and he, like Betsy, is coming directly towards you to ask you how your day was and if you brought anything back for him.

if you critique any of his whiskey then he will break out into a very passionate rant about the best kind of whiskey is the kind that makes you almost die a little bit on the inside when you take a shot.

idk why, but i feel like if he and Saul Goodman met, they’d be best friends. they’d pull off the best grifts together.

also Robert fucking loves Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul. he just rewatches it over and over again as a comfort show even though it doesn’t provide any comfort whatsoever. his faves are Saul and Nacho

he will force you to watch Breaking Bad or Better Call Saul. or at the very least, he explain the plotline.

Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul is the Only reason that he has a Netflix subscription. there is no other reason he’d ever need one.

also Robert fucking hates Margaritaville. Joseph took him there once — Robert got sick from the Cheeseburger in Paradise, and now Robert vows to never step foot in one of those damn restaurants ever again.

Robert doesn’t like margaritas, so maybe it was doomed from the start.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

1000 follower special!

So I decided to make this huge headcanon post for Yandere ocs(since my Yandere stories are part of why I got so many followers). I’ll probably do a part 2 later. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read my pieces of writing.

Yandere Jock🏈🏉

Brad is horny. He will literally beg you to let him have sex with you.

Luckily he does have every contraceptive and pregnancy prevention medicine possible.

A new oral birth control comes on the market, he gets it for you. You want to get an IUD? He makes an appointment.

As you get further in the relationship, eventually he will get therapy for himself because he got sick of seeing you so embarrassed whenever he tries to fight other guys who look at you back in your college years.

Thankfully said therapy changes him for the better.

Pre-therapy Brad would’ve been happy that you got pregnant and wouldn’t even think of an abortion.

But with therapy, when Brad finds out you’re pregnant, he immediately asks if you’re ok, do you want the baby(Cus if you don’t he’ll pay for the abortion and take care of you afterwards)

If you choose to keep the baby, he’s putting his marriage Pinterest boards to use.

If you thought bridezillas were bad, then you haven’t met Bradzilla.

“I can’t stress my fiancé out with all the wedding stuff! She’s pregnant and I can’t risk her and babies health!”

He makes sure everything is perfect and even buys a new house for you and the baby.

Brad waits on you hand and foot. Literally watches all the Instagram reels for baby hacks.

Yandere Vampire🦇🩸

Nos feels guilty about the wedding.

He literally tries to make up with your grandma and family.

Let’s just say you had to pull your grandma and every male relative off Nos.

Nos’s family treats you wonderfully.

They even help you through your vampire pregnancy.

Meanwhile, your family eventually accepts Nos and tolerated what he did to you.

Nos is rich af and he treats you like he is.

Even though you’re married, you’re going on midnight dates.

You are wined and dined.

He even cooks meals for you

Nos makes strawberry sorbet mixed with blood of your choice.

He is definitely a kiss man. Literally loves kissing your cheeks and neck.

Nos does apologize for scaring every boy away from you. You had to understand it was so he could marry you and your village wouldn’t be destroyed silly-

Guides you through being a vampire and even helps you get powerful enough to be in the sunlight.

Which pleases you greatly because you loved your village’s summers.

Yandere Werewolf 🌕🐺

The switch between Aaron’s personality when he’s a human vs a werewolf is like night and day.

The minute Aaron goes back to normal and sees you, NAKED, in his cave….oh boy…

“Aaaahh! I’m sorry I glanced at your body!”

You almost start to miss the werewolf him. Almost.

Aaron’s semi traditional values kick in and he immediately proposes and starts wedding plans so it will look like the baby was conceived AND born in wedlock.

The good side is that with marrying Aaron you get the amazing villa out in the French countryside surrounded by beautiful flowers.

The bad side is that Aaron has free reign to control his werewolf abilities.

And that’s when his shy personality becomes more dominant.

I mean you find it hot, but the amount of body hair he sheds makes you irritated.

At least he takes good care of his hair and washes it. And he goes through the effort of waxing and shaving his legs just to appease you(take that body standards!)

He gets even hotter when living in the woods because he lets his hair grow out.

Aaron even lets you pull his back length hair during sex.

He’s also a great father. He will chase and play with pups while you rest up.

Your children love their papa and mama. Aaron lets the pups climb on his hair.

Aaron also teaches you how to breastfeed, change diapers, etc.

He actually took a parenting class before he got bit.

Aaron also took care of you during the pregnancy. Literally snuggled, gave you food, took you to appointments, fed you prenatal vitamins. He even acted your body pillow.

[alpaca-clouds]

How to survive the heat

Okay, let me talk about something else.

The climate is changing and it is getting hotter. The summers especially are getting hotter and hotter by the year and a lot of people are struggling with it.

As my American friends keep reminding me: The US - at least those areas, that have always been kinda hot - has usually ACs for most buildings. But someone sitting in Germany I can guarantee you: Most of us do not. At least not outside of commercial buildings like shopping malls and office buildings.

And still, we have temperatures over 30°C - at times going up to 40°C (that is like 86° - 104° in freedom units) - and somehow have to survive in here. So, as someone sitting in an attic flat with no AC in sight, let me talk survival.

Why heat is dangerous

Let me quickly talk about heat and why it is dangerous to us. And let me make it clear: Yes, heat is dangerous. Heat usually kills more people than any other type of extreme weather. Because while you can protect against most other weather, the heat is not that easy.

Our human fleshbags usually function best around 37°C (which is like 98.7°F) and to keep itself at around that temperature. When we are cold, our body burns energy to warm itself up. When we are hot, we produce sweat so that our bodies can cool of via evaporation.

The issue is, that our bodies are only able to do that in certain temperatures effectively.

And if we cannot cool off, our body will slowly fail. Additionally we might sweat so much, that we loose too much water through sweat, our bodies might shut off, too.

Just a quick graphic here. Just to make you aware. Because heat is dangerous.

So, let us talk about something.

How to survive the heat without an AC?

Let me talk about my best friend during the summer heat: The fan. With that I mean the nice electric fan that keeps the air moving. Yes, it burns energy and that sucks, but with the air moving, our sweat can better evaporate, hence cooling us down.

Another thing that might help as well, is a device removing air humidity - because this, too, helps with sweating.

Then, of course, there is the good one: Air out your apartments early in the morning or throughout the night. When it is still cool. Then close up the windows during the day and close and curtains and blinds. If you do not have blinds, you might consider putting something against the windows from the outside. I personally use medical foil blankets, that are made to keep temperatures regulated. But please, please, if you do that: Put them up outside. Because otherwise it might harm the glass of the window. (And yes, sadly I have to remind you, too that you need to check with your landlord if this is okay.)

Another thing that might help you: Fill bottles with water and freeze them. Then put them up in the highest place in your room. This can lower the temperature in your room for a couple degrees. It is a very easy hack that works quite well.

Now, you might have heard about that drinking cold drinks is bad and that instead you actually should drink hot drinks. The science behind it is basically, that cold drinks do kinda cancel themselves out. Yes, cold drinks and ice cream cool down the inside of the body, but with it, it will also tell the body not to sweat. Because of that, you win nothing, but you also loose nothing. The natural temperature regulation gets stopped for a while, but for the same while your body gets cooled by the cold drink. So... It's alright. Do it the way you like. And yes, even though sweating is a good and healthy thing in the heat... It also kinda sucks.

Most importantly though: Drink. And drink something non-alcoholic. (Because alcohol dehydrates the body.) Other than that, it really does not matter what you drink. If it is hot or cold. Just make sure you drink about 2-3 liters a day. To make up for the loss of water through sweating.

The last tip I have is not good for the introverted. But... You might wanna consider spend your days in a place that is climatized. I usually sit in the office even on my off days, because it has a passive cooling system (yes, fancy sustainable stuff even!) and during the weekends I often go to the university library, because it is nice and climate controlled there.

Would I love to lounge around at home instead? Yes. Yes, I would. But... Beggers can't be choosers. And even my autistic ass prefers sitting in the library to having a heat stroke. Because yes, I had a heat stroke once. I cannot recommend it.

So, that said: Stay chilly.

[enviedear]

nervous neighbor ⟶ ben solo

description ⌙ you're back at home from university, living with your parents for the summer because it's cheaper than trying to pay for an apartment while on a student's salary. but after you meet the new neighbor's son, ben solo, you're not so sure it's worth it.

pairing ⌙ neighbor!ben solo x f!reader

warnings ⌙ inebriated reader & ben, they're smoking weed and being petty together, mean!ben because when do i not make him a bit mean, ben jokingly attempts to solicit reader, reader has a blatant sort of fascination with ben, ben has severe blatant yearning for reader, reader is described to need a belt to wear ben's pants (don't question me it comes up), some high kisses (they're so fun oops), somewhat getting caught, tiny little bitty cliffhanger, ben's personality is totally based off this brent faiyaz song lmao

word count ⌙ 3.5k

— request (frl especially for ben/kylo) | masterlist

i love the idea of neighbor!ben so ofc i had to put my thoughts into a little fic! if anyone is interested... i wouldn't be mad at making this a series. i love neighbor!ben!

the sun is low in the sky, casting a warm and appreciated golden glow on the world around you. you revel in the sanctity of the suburban environment as you step outside your front door. the rays burn into your exposed shoulders, spaghetti straps lightly digging into the skin.

the fragrant scent of freshly cut grass hangs heavy in the air, leaving an earthy flavor in your mouth. you pull at the hem of your shorts, feeling the soft fabric brush against your exposed thighs as you make your way to the black mailbox straight ahead.

you flip through bills and junk mail, all in your parent's name for a minute before you hear the unmistakable rev of a car engine approaching. the engine seems to purr the closer it gets, and you're all too familiar with the sound. you feel glued to your spot as it approaches.

soon enough, ben solo's sleek aston martin swerves into his driveway, coming to a stop just a few feet away from his closed garage door. you watch as he gets out of the car, his dark hair falling messily over his forehead, and meets your gaze with his severe brown eyes.

there’s something about the way he looks at you that causes your heart to race. the sensation is unwanted or, at least, you tell yourself it is.

he looks like he always does; clad in dress pants and a pristine button-up, face etched with subtle haughtiness, and pink lips curved into a deliciously heretical grin. the previous sanctity you felt dissipates as his stare beats down on you, hotter and more all-consuming than the sun above.

"neighbor." he anoints, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "how much allowance are mommy and daddy giving you for checking their mail?"

"very funny," you retort, eyes rolling, "maybe they're drawing from the same funds your parents did when they bought you that ridiculous car."

you liked playing this game with ben. where he attempts to seem as if he's got something over you, some unspoken win. as if you're not both twenty-somethings still living with your parents.

he does have an actual retirement plan type job though, so, perhaps, he has you beat in some areas.

he works full-time, a fact you learned after dinner with your parents and his. brought up by your parents so they could dote on him— effectively buttering up han and leia further. the ass-kissing earned the family privileges to their in-ground pool though.

he's pretty prestigious, unfortunately. ben organa-solo, the youngest associate at his legal firm. he apparently had over forty offers of employment before he ever even looked at the bar exam.

he's doing well, sure— but the sheer fact that he still lives with his parents is enough to quell your nuanced jealousy. somewhat.

"my db-nine can never be called ridiculous. do you know the specs on this car?" he taunts, opting to lean against his aforementioned car.

you begin to turn away from him, not willing to go into a conversation regarding his stupidly expensive automobile. you can feel your ears warming as you try to ignore him, but ben is relentless, as usual, "you know, you really should relax a little, i'm only joking, kid.."

"excuse me?" you snap, fronting him again and crossing your arms defensively, "i am plenty relaxed, solo. thank you very much."

in truth, you haven't been relaxed or even casual since the organa-solo's moved in eight months ago. wealthy and recently retired, leia and han are amusing, charming, and almost constantly travelling.

the pair managed to befriend your parents the second they moved in. bringing over a plate of brownies, the duo easily meshed with your parents, making for countless dinners, conversations, and visits between the two homes.

the opposite can be said for ben and you. when you finally met him, a few weeks after his parents moved in, it was because he was yelling at your dog for 'purposely' pissing on one of his tires. since then, you haven't exactly seen eye to eye.

"mhm, of course," he drawls sarcastically, "that's why you're always so wound up,” he’s smirking now, "you ever thought about smoking a joint or something? might help you chill out."

"really?" you scoff, raising an eyebrow, "that's your solution? drugs?" you choose to ignore his quip about you being tightly wound. as if he's not— you've seen him after work, he always looks tense, shoulders tight. at the recollection of his job title makes you almost comment on his choice of illegal activity, but you stop yourself.

maybe this was his vice after hours of listening to legal jargon?

"i'm just offering a suggestion. i've got pot and an empty house." his voice is biting, holding his hands up defensively, "take it or leave it, kid."

your mind is wrought with confusion over his words. in the few months you’ve known him, you would have never thought he’d be suggesting what he is.

ben solo, who drives an aston martin, only wears button-ups or suits, and is always willing to make you look or feel idiotic, is trying to convince you to smoke pot with him.

you worry for a brief second if you’re deluded.

you would have never suspected the famed judiciary to unwind in such a way.

no, your first guess would have been whiskey, or maybe something a bit more scandalized and indecent. you try to shake that idea out of your head.

"fine," you blurt it out before you can stop yourself, surprising both you and the arrogant figure in front of you.

"seriously?" ben questions, his eyes widening in apprehension. "you're actually going to do it?"

"yeah, solo," you shrug, drawing out the first word, trying to sound more resolved than you feel, "nothing i haven’t done before."

"okay, cheech," he mutters, grinning wickedly, "let me smoke you out."

you follow him into his house, heart pounding in your chest. you're familiar with the layout— almost identical to your own home, only nicer. everything is nicer.

the air inside is cool and smells faintly of lavender, mixed with something decadent you can’t quite place. glancing around the space, you take it all in. it feels different now that you're alone with ben. less homey and more belly of the beast.

there are windows everywhere, letting in an abundance of natural light despite the evident tint. the furniture is modern and obviously hand-picked though comfortable and no doubt, expensive.

you try to make yourself cozy on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you. ben disappears for a moment and returns with a tray, a red grinder, a lighter, and a baggie of green herbs.

your hands go clammy as you watch him grind it down. you try to wipe them on your pants, hoping he doesn’t notice.

he doesn’t seem to, instead beginning to roll a joint, packing the herb down with his thumb. his movements, precise and hypnotic. he's defiling all previous conclusions you had of him. he’s sure, magnetic, and undeniably confusing.

“ready?” he asks, holding the rolled paper out to you. you nod, and he lights up the twisted end, inhaling deeply before passing it over to you.

you place the joint to your lips, feeling the warmth of the light spark grazing your fingers. the earthy plant kindles with a soft crackle, and you inhale deeply. smoke fills your lungs, coiling inside you.

the cloudy smoke immediately hits your entire sinus system, choking you on its descent down.

you cough and ben laughs, “shit, take it slow, kid.” he huffs, before handing you a tepid water bottle, no question he figured you'd wind up coughing a lung.

you drink gratefully, feeling the water cleanse your burning throat. you look at ben, who’s watching you intently.

your eyes are watery and slightly hazy, but ben has never look better. eyes red and low, posture easy with one arm behind his head, and faint pink flush.

“what?” you ask, self-conscious. the room seems to swirl around as ben sits beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body.

"nothing, neighbor," his stare is mocking, "do you feel relaxed yet?" he asks with a smirk.

you give him a meager thumbs-up, suddenly lightheaded and giggly. your thoughts are wondering to ben's pretty lips, but your mouth remains whetted and silent. adorning thoughts remaining within your capricious mind.

the tension in your body melts away, and you lean back against the couch cushions, letting out a deep sigh. ben's hand brushes against yours to steal the joint away, and you feel the heat of his touch all the way to your toes. it's as if the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and nothing else exists.

“are you cold?” he asks, taking a drag, dress shirt sleeves rolled up, leaving his arms on full display.

you look at him, bewildered for a second, and he continues with an eye roll, “you’re shivering.”

looking down at your body, you note that you indeed are. either from the weed or the proximity you have to your novel neighbor.

with a gentle breath, you reply, “i guess.”

he holds the joint with his lips as he stands to look down at you, “c’mon i’ve got blankets in my room.”

you look up at him, unsure of what to say, but find yourself bobbing in agreement. you follow him upstairs, the both of you languid in reaching the destination. when you do finally get to his room, you note the array of muted jewel tones and dim light, different than the rest of the house.

ben keeps his blinds partially closed and curtains that mostly fall in front of them. his bed is huge, pristine white sheets and an inviting navy bedspread.

you watch as he pulls out a thick woolen blanket from his closet and spreads it over your shoulders. you feel the weight of it settle over you, cocooning you in warmth.

"better?" he asks, voice low.

you nod again, feeling the hazy ardor of the drug swimming through your body. everything feels fuzzy, and for the first time you don't feel so out of place with ben.

he takes a seat beside you on his all too comfortable bed, the aroma of his pomelo-scented cologne filling your senses. you discern it's probably dangerous in some way to be alone with ben like this, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care or reason why.

you let yourself peer into his large and expansive open closet. clothes, mostly suits and dress shirts, hang neatly on identical black hangars. he's tidy. the fact feels unmistakable, and you think you should already know just by the way he carries himself.

ben's voice interrupts your absent mind, "anything you like?"

you look back at him, leaning up against the headboard of his bed, joint billowing smoke from its rested position in his fingers. he looks less severe like this, less perfect, more mortal.

you're certain the drug has taken effect now because when you move to get closer to him, it feels as if you're floating.

you take the joint from him, stealing another hit before replying, "you just have a lot of suits. i wonder if you own anything besides them. i've never seen you in anything but."

"is this one of your long-winded jokes?" he briefly closes his eyes, but you can see them roll through his lids, "because if so, i'll kick you out. i won't hesitate to send you back to your house, neighbor."

snorting, you take yet another hit of the joint, "i did see something i liked, actually." you confess, your drugged mind deciding to be just a bit genuine.

he hums, "really? i've never seen you in a suit, or anything formal."

the sentence sounds stupid coming out of ben's mouth, but you chalk it up to his tipsy state, "maybe you will. one day."

your reply sounds equally as dumb, but you feel good, and you're actually having a conversation with ben. one that doesn't involve him undermining you or snickering at what you're saying.

"really? wanna try mine on? for practice." ben is smirking, eyes narrow, searing, and bloodshot.

you give him a ditzy look, joint still dangling from your fingers, "whatever, solo."

ben lets out a genuine giggle at that, and in your inebriated state, you smile at the sound. his dimples are on full display as he leans further into his cushioned headboard, eyes glazed and focused purely at you, "i'll pay, if you do."

his face is gentle, almost winsome, but the words that tumble out of his mouth sound murky— riddled with a slight hint of hunger. for what exactly? you're not sure.

your lips contort into a frown before you reply, "you'll pay me to put on your clothes? god, ben how much did you smoke?"

you mean for your words to come off as a joke, easy and light. instead, it comes out as timid and shy. you'd normally feel a tinge of embarrassment but either the drug or ben's starved stare makes the would-be feeling detach from your mind.

"enough." he shrugs, answering your rhetorical question, "i've got five hundred in my wallet right now," he pauses, leaning over to you and grabbing the joint, fingers brushing against yours, "and i want a show."

your mind seems to blank for a second, leaving you to blink your dry, red eyes in front of him. when the small wave of shock subdues, you reply, "i don't know how to give you a show."

ben shakes his head slightly, his eyes still set on yours, “yeah you do. swear it's not hard, kid.”

“says you,” you giggle, “but i’ll try on your clothes. for the money.”

he breathes in, contented, “for the money.”

without much more thought, you rise from his plush bed and make way for the closet. it's big enough to be another room, a stark contrast from your own closet, and it smells of his citrusy cologne merged with the lavender scent throughout the home. you find it comforting.

you look back over your shoulder, ben's watching you intently from his seated position, "what should i start with, solo?"

he hums before replying, "your pick, neighbor. what's mine is yours."

you can't help the dorky smile that graces your lips at his sentiment, even though you know he's being flippant. you hastily turn away from him, hiding your weak-willed reaction.

taking a deep breath, you begin to rummage through his wardrobe. your fingers brush against the luxurious fabric of his suits before settling on a satin black button-up that looks silky smooth to the touch.

you grab it and turn around to face ben, who's now standing and walking towards you, his eyes fixed on the shirt in your hand.

"that's a good choice," he says, his voice low and husky, "you'll look better in it than i do."

you roll your eyes at his comment but can't help the warmth that shoots through your body at his words. you quickly slip it over your cropped tank, eager to see it on.

as you're buttoning it up, you feel his swarthy eyes on you, watching your every move. you can't help but feel giddy with his ardent gaze and your own euphoric state of mind.

as you finish up the last button, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the ornate mirror hung upon one of the closet walls. you look decadent in his pompous shirt.

the feeling of contentment that washes over you is startling.

it's a beautiful cut of fabric, but it's the way it represents the achieved man behind you that has you stalling. you notice ben's breath hitch as he takes in the sight of you.

"i was right. it looks much better on you." he says, his voice rough.

you grin at him, feeling a newfound confidence wash over you, "is that right, solo?" you question, your demeanor one of leisure.

without warning, ben steps forward, right hand coming to rest on your shoulder as he leans down to you, "here," he says, his breath hot against your ear, "you missed the first button."

his fingers dance at your chest, fastening the skipped button. you fight a smile at the act, keening at his rash action. high ben is certainly less sardonic than sober ben, finding a nice middle ground at graceful teasing.

"you pick the pants, and grab a belt so that they'll fit." you smile.

he hums, pulling away and trifling through his clothes. his nimble fingers card through various pairs of slacks, settling on a matching black pair.

he turns on his heels, facing you. he raises his brows, a silent request for you to take the pants. when you do, his hands begin to fumble with his belt.

your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, "what are you doing?"

"i want you to wear this one. just let me play dress up with you, doll." his black locks are falling into his eyes.

you huff out a weak chuckle, focused on his action and new endearment. when the belts slides away from him, you notice the way his slacks droop slightly.

with a curt and nervous smile, you slide up the dark pants, fitting his belt around your hips afterward.

you study yourself in the mirror, opting to tuck the shirt into the pants messily— an attempt to somewhat display your waist.

ben comes up behind you, hands resting on your shoulders, humming into the top of your head, "i quite like you this way. ever thought about getting an office job for me?"

you give him a sarcastic pout, "for you?"

he smiles, canines showing, "yeah, doll, just for me."

you're dizzy at his words, "yeah, then who'd watch my parent's house all day? it's a full-time job being a stay-at-home daughter, you know."

ben groans a bit at your words, "that makes you sound like a little brat, you know." he drawls out the last two words, mocking.

you smirk, facing him now, lips becoming level with his when he leans down to stare into your eyes, "my mom calls me a brat sometimes. she says i'm never going to find someone acting like one," you pause for a beat, "d'you agree, ben?"

at the emphasis of his first name he sighs and lets his hands fall to your waist, "i agree that you're a fuckin' brat," he cranes his head closer, breath brushing against your lips, "but i don't think i mind very much."

your eyes flutter against your better judgment, and ben takes an evident note of the fact. his hands tighten at your waist, fingers digging in possessively. you feel a beat of caution before it flies away from your resolution. you press forward just as he does the same, lips meeting in a slow, heady, absolutely exalting kiss.

ben's fingers dig into you, timidly pulling you further into him. you crumble at his touch, hands fisting into his hair as he deepens the kiss further. he tastes of sweet honey and sunlight that fills you with warmth and affection.

you're both weakly fighting for more— an incessant craving for each other that quickly overtakes your common sense. the looming man continues to cast an unbreakable spell with each aching kiss as his gentle hands caress every inch of exposed skin on your body.

you let his hands fumble with the buttons of the borrowed shirt, slowly slipping it away from you. it brushes past your shoulders, and ben breaks the hungry kisses to trail sloppy ones on your exposed neck.

you're lost in the feeling of him— all-consuming. neither one of you willing to be pulled back to reality— but eventually you both have to break away from one another with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks. ben looks down at you with an amused grin on his face before planting a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

you hum and he mutters against you, "you like that? hm?"

"duh," you steal a glance up, "feels s'nice." there's a stupid grin stuck to your face.

"you taste so good, doll," he places a teasing kiss at the dip at the bottom of your neck, "and your lips are so fucking soft."

you give him a questioning look, lips upturned, "really? sounds wild coming from the same man that just called me a brat."

he hums darkly, "you being a brat," he places another kiss to your exposed neck, "just makes this little game of ours more interesting," one of his hands lifts your chin, pulling you closer, "c'mere, kid."

his lips are back on yours, less languid and with much more fervor. you feel so full in his arms. divinely entangled in the coveted luxury of ben organa-solo.

suddenly, you hear commotion from downstairs, drugged mind abruptly anxious.

"what's that?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

ben growls, "fuck— i'm sorry doll, i think my parents are home." you catch the faint flush on his cheeks.

you bite your lip, concerned, "but... i'm high. and wearing your clothes."

ben is about to say something else when the deep baritone of han solo's voice booms from behind his closed bedroom door, "come on out, son. the neighbor's are over for dinner. their daughter should be here soon," han's voice drops a bit, "and try to ease up on the flirting this time, okay?"

you stifle an uninhibited giggle, earning a glare from ben.

"yeah, sure. just let me get out of my work clothes," he peers down at you, eyes wicked, "don't want them to think it's all i own."

your eyes widen at his subtle dig, and he seems to revel in your amusement.

han grumbles something back before leaving. your breathing is erratic for a good few seconds. ben's hands remain on you, gentle grin on his lips.

"you heard the man. dinner." his voice is low, and you fight the urge to pull him into another kiss. the thought of more than kissing weighing heavily on your stoned mind.

your reply knocks the smile off of his face, "how are you going to explain the fact i'm already with you and high off my ass?"

he groans, head falling into the crook of your neck, "shit."

[little-fairy-forest]

Beach day Dads

Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya

Fluff, domestic, gn!reader

Word count: 589

A/n : beach days are a regular thing for me now that it's summer! Even though it's no hotter then 21⁰c...still hot!

Bakugou

This man is going to have a heartattack– do all the kids have suncream on? Do they have all their swimsuits on before you get to the beach? Is the tarp packed? What about snacks and lunches?

He will make sure your kids are lathered in suncream, he doesn't care if the sand sticks to their skin, he doesn't want his babys to have burnt skin

Strict about where they can go, no running behind where he's set up the tarp for the younger kids who can't take in as much sun, if they want to get in the water they must have an adult with them. Doesn't care if they think they'll be okay...

Tries to go to a more private beach, doesn't want the paparazzi to post your kids in swimsuits all over twitter for the weirdos to find,,

Definitely has your kids wear those swimsuits that have the arms, no rashes here!

Makes your kids do a sand castle competition with your friends kids, it's all fun and games till your kid is crying because they came last... rigged

Hates sand, the kids will be fully dusted down before they step foot into his nice car... god forbid he sees a grain of sand the next day

Sunglasses never come off his man, puts them on his toddler as a joke when taking a break,

Matching swimsuits was his idea your idea

Kirishima

Loves the beach, goes all the time with the dogs for runs before people arrive

Makes sure his kids are lathered up in suncream before having fun, he's a fun dad but he has to make sure his kids are safe

Has his kid on his shoulders in the water, the kids love being thrown into the water by their dad lol

Absolutely gets buried in sand by his kids, definitely falls asleep half way through

Amazing tan from this man, seriously he came back from the beach five shades darker,

Man bun all day with this man, gotta' keep the hair out of his face when playing right? ( everyone is loving it )

Brings those inflatable beach toys for everyone to play with, e.g. beach ball, donut ring,

Brings the less healthy snacks to share, much to bakugou's distaste he will let his brats kids have some of Kirishima's snacks

Cutest sight ever us watching this big hulk of a man walk his toddler to the water to splash their feet in. The poor kid is on their tippy' toes just to hold onto Eijirou's pink finger :')

Midoriya

Poor baby has heart attacks constantly on the beach, are all his kids safe from villians, are they eating sand? Do they have their arm bands on? Wait wheres his middle child–

Brings everything he probably doesn't even need e.g. bear spray

His kids are always the ones eating the sand, does he stop it? The best he can, does it always work? Absolutely not

He burns really easily so he has timers for everyone to apply more suncream 💀

Brings a little freezer bag to keep all the juice boxes in for all the kids

Has a sun lounger to try and relax and tan in, end up falling sleep and getting badly sunburnt. Good thing he has aloe vera gel in his bag!

Watches all those tiktoks of beach life hacks,, has a fitted bedsheet so the kids don't get sand everywhere, uses baby powder to get sand of etc

If he can stay long enough, he loves watching the sunset.

Hates seagulls, his worst enemy

-> Masterlist

-> General tags : @aomi04 @justheretoaskandread @daintydemure @veenxys @scarlettqueensworld @loving-katsuki

[not-alien-girl-v]

Broken Pieces (George Daniel)

warning: drinking, being mean to boyfriend, language

note: merry christmas.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

You pulled up to this party at 10 o'clock on the dot courtesy of your friend Violet who provided you a ride. She said she had better places to be than third wheeling with you and George all night. You know the truth is that she doesn't like going to parties where she doesn't know a lot of people, but you figured you'd let her have it just this once.

Your top is comfortable tonight but your jeans are digging into your stomach in a bad way, something to do with your seasonal weight gain, something that always happens post-Thanksgiving and pre-Christmas, but George always assures you that he loves your body no matter what 'format' he gets it in. He always had an odd way with words, but the sentiment remains nonetheless.

The door of Matty and George's apartment is already open when you press on it. The air is about 10 degrees hotter inside than the frosty winter air outside, and it's comforting. It always feels like home.

Gazing around the living room, you see a random guy you've never met before in a large hat with the Grinch's face on it, a tasteful choice for a holiday party. You always wonder who the hell these people are that attend your boyfriend and your boyfriend's boyfriend's parties. Sometimes they just feel like extras in a movie set, but maybe you only feel that way since you never go out of your way to talk to the people you don't know.

And why would you, when you spot Ross and George together in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, drinks in hand. George's hair is a mess and he's wearing his black D.A.R.E. shirt but in your mind, he looks beautiful as always. Of course, you'd never tell him that in public.

You skip over to them, day looking better already. "OMG! Is that my bestie?" You bubbly exclaim, opening your arms to Ross and he returns them with a big hug. He smushes you a little uncomfortably, but it feels nice anyway.

He lets you go, "hey bestie," he speaks lowly. He's become well accustomed to your vocabulary, knowing to call you his 'bestie' rather than 'best friend.' You turn to George.

"Hey bitch." You grab his glass out of his hand, taking a sip, and coughing immediately after swallowing. "That's gross."

"Hi, love, when did you get here?" George ignores your initial rudeness.

"Just now. Scooch over, I wanna get in the sandwich." You're referring to standing in between the two men, being in the 'sandwich' as you call it. They both wordlessly create space between them in which you squeeze into.

"Have you guys seen hat guy?" You ask.

"Who?" Ross returns.

"Guy with the Grinch hat?"

"No. Wish I had though. Sounds cool," George looks down at you as he speaks. You decide to take advantage of this opportunity and grab him by the back of the neck, pulling him into a hard kiss that he gladly gives back, smiling into it. Ross makes a retching noise to your right.

"Y/N, wait, I need you to settle an argument. A girl argument," Ross interjects.

"What's a girl argument?"

George sighs in annoyance, "an argument that we, as men, cannot come to a verdict on without the input of a woman. It's stupid, Ross, I told you we don't need to ask a girl about this."

"No, we do. You're stupid. Okay, so. When women are, like, breastfeeding, does the milk come from the center of the nipple or from the whole area?"

"Like a shower head type deal," George adds, forgetting that he's against this argument.

"Yeah like a shower head. Because I say nipple but George says shower head. So what's the truth?" The look on his face is so sincere that you're certain he's completely serious. You glance at George, a similar expression. A prime opportunity to fuck with them.

"It actually comes out of the pores on the boob. Like you know how you have pores on your face? So it's a different type of skin on your boobs and the milk comes from under the skin and through the pores. That's why they sell those tit pore strips to clear out all the crap gets stuck in there so the milk comes out. You ever seen those before?"

"No, I haven't," Ross is astounded.

"Really? That's crazy, I would have never guessed," George nods his head as he speaks like he's really coming to terms with this false truth.

"No, not really, I'm fucking with you. I don't know how it comes out, why would I know? I've never breastfed before."

"Fuck off," Ross rolls his eyes, upset that you really had him going for a moment.

You cackle, happy to mess with them, then turn to George. “George? Sweet baby? Love of my life?”

He groans, shutting his eyes, “yes?”

“Will you go get me a drink and in return I’ll love you forever?”

Sighing, “I’ll be back,” and he leaves a parting kiss on the top of your head.

“Where’s my kiss?” Ross exclaims to the back of George’s head as he walks away, flipping him off as he goes.

“Ugh. Thought he’d never leave. That fucking’ guy, am I right?” You playfully joke to Ross.

“Yeah, what a loser,” Ross adds in, very best friend of him.

“Okay, Ross, what do I get him for Christmas?”

“I’m getting him a lighter with his name on it. Is that too gay?” He asks in full seriousness.

“The lighter or the name?”

“Both.”

“I think it would only be gay if it had your name on it. You’re fine. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“I thought it did. Don’t get him a lighter.”

“Again, not an answer to my question. If I don’t get him a lighter, what do I get him?”

“Get him a super sick Grinch hat,” he points at Grinch hat guy who is now walking by.

“He’d never wear that shit.”

“It’d be funny though.”

“But for once, I don’t want funny, I want sentimental. Something that shows I love him, since I’m so bad at doing that otherwise.”

“Sex coupons?”

“What are sex coupons?”

He looks you dead in the eye, “let’s put on our thinking caps, use our context clues, why don’t we?”

“Okay, fine, I’m not gonna do that, anyway. It’s lame. And cheap. I may be broke and uncreative but not to that extent. I have dignity.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Do you?”

“Shut up.”

“Here’s your drink, love. ‘S just a soda since we don’t have what you like here,” George suddenly returns with a cup of Sprite in his hand.

“See, even he knows what I like. How am I supposed to compete with that?” You throw your hands up in surrender.

“He’s a little slow. It won’t even matter what you give him, even if it doesn’t mean anything, he’ll love it,” Ross tells you.

“I’m right here,” George takes a sip of your Sprite, eyes bouncing between the two of you in confusion.

“But I need to be a better girlfriend, none of this lame shit. That was just practice, this is the first game of the season.”

“Then just suck his dick and call it a day!” Ross returns your energy.

“Hello?” George asks again.

You turn to him, “hi. Thanks for the drink. Sprite?”

“Yeah, poured it out of a can and everything. Feeling like Gordon Ramsey right now.”

Chuckling, you take the drink out of his hand and sip at it. He comes to stand on the other side of you, completing the sandwich once more. “And for the record, I think you’re an amazing girlfriend.”

“You would say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re so nice to me, all the time. Don’t I ever piss you off? Push your buttons just a little too much. Don��t you ever want to go off on me?”

“Of course not, you know I’m not like that.”

You sigh, “yeah, I know.” You pause, then continue, “so, what do you want for Christmas?” You rest your head on the side of his arm (would have been his shoulder if you were taller but it’s like, literally whatever).

“I’d be happy with just a day with you. I don’t need anything fancy, some heartfelt shit. Just some quality time.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“I feel like you want me to give you something more material so you can just buy it. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, if you want to get me something I’ll like, get me some cologne. Something you think smells good. Promise I’ll wear it.”

You hold out your pinky to him. He hooks his with yours, giving a brief shake, then holding onto your hand with both of his. “You look tired already baby. Do you want to lay down?”

“First of all, that’s rude to say. Second of all, you’re right and I hate it. Stop reading me so well.

“So, yes?”

“Yeah…” He nods, happily grabbing your hand and leading you to his room which he had locked for the sake of the party. You turn back and wave goodbye to Ross; you’ll probably fall asleep and see him next tomorrow.

George holds the door open for you and guides you inside. He even pulls back the comforter for you to slip under. Once you do, he cheesily tucks you in, kissing your forehead. “Anything I can do for you, my dear?”

You shake your head no, already feeling too pampered and spoiled for one night.

“Alright,” he kisses your forehead and stands from his kneeled position, dusting his hands off on his pant legs. “I’ll leave you be now. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You still have no idea what cologne to get him, but at least it’s a start. How hard could sex coupons be to make, anyway?”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @butyou-callmewhenyourebored @milkluvr8 @americanangel

[marriedzukka]

can i interest anyone in a retgmt16 snippet on this fine evening

Zuko gently rubs Sokka’s left calf where it’s draped over his lap, watching curiously as Sokka untangles the wires of a TENS unit. It’s kind of a bitch to set up with all of its wires and electrode patches and buttons, but he’s become fond of it lately in lieu of his heating pad during the hotter summer months. Then again, because he’s Sokka, he loves any excuse to play with a gadget of some kind, even if it’s at his own expense. The TENS doesn’t have a stupid nickname yet, but Zuko figures it’s only a matter of time. 

Sokka scrunches forward to unwrap his knee, methodically placing the sticky sides of the TENS patches around it instead. Easy as anything, he catches Zuko studying him, and a smile pulls at his lips. “Looks weird, I know.” 

Zuko’s thumb moves softly over the faded surgery scar just below his knee. “But it helps?”

His eyes soften as he places another patch. “Yeah, Sunshine. It helps. Usually.”

“Can I do the next one?”

"I got it," he shrugs, slowly peeling a bit of plastic film off of the last patch. “It’s not rocket science.” 

“So even I can do it, then.” 

There. Zuko likes it when something he says makes Sokka smile. He should do that more often.  

“Fine." Sokka places the last patch in his outstretched hand and lies back against the couch. “Don’t fuck it up.” 

“Or what?”

“Or it won’t help.” 

The patch is weird and sticky, suddenly awkward to hold as he hovers it over Sokka’s knee and tries to find the right spot. There are wires everywhere, more patches and scars and knobby knees. It may not be rocket science but there’s definitely a method to this madness, and Zuko suddenly realizes that he doesn’t actually know how to interpret it at all. The last thing he wants to do is be the reason it doesn’t work, or cause Sokka any more pain than he’s already in. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

“Where the fuck am I supposed to put it?”

Like the sun on the side of his face, Sokka's eyes are on him, watching this all go down with unbridled fondness. 

“What?!” Zuko snaps.

“Nothing. Just love you.” 

His smile is utterly disarming. Zuko can feel the blush creeping up his neck. “Love you too.” 

“You’re so cute.”

“Shut up and tell me where to put this.” 

“Can’t do both at the same time.” 

“Sokka.” 

He laughs and leans forward, using his finger to draw invisible lines from one patch to another in an X shape over his knee. “See here? The channels are crossed like this, so it covers more surface area. So that patch needs to go opposite this one. There’s other ways to do it, and it could change depending on what part of the body you’re trying to work with, but that’s basically it.”

Zuko follows his direction, carefully placing the last patch in its designated spot and gently smoothing it down. “Now what?”

“The fun part.” Sokka lies back again, grabbing the handheld machine on the other end of the wires and fiddling with the dials. “I usually start at level two, and work my way up to a five or six if it’s really bad. Can’t go much higher than that though or it might make it worse.”

Zuko listens intently, making several mental notes. Something fierce and protective washes over him; so often, he feels helpless when it comes to easing his partner’s pain, but he’ll do whatever he can, whenever Sokka will let him. And sure, Sokka could do stuff like this himself if he really wanted to, but he doesn't have to. Not anymore. They're in this together now.

“How bad is it?” 

Sokka hums, considering. “I'm only on level three. At least for now.” 

It’s a small relief. He rarely goes a day without pain anymore, or maybe more accurately, he’s been more honest about how often it’s bothering him. To think that there were probably countless times when he was hurting and said nothing makes Zuko’s stomach twist with guilt. All that pain and still, Sokka kept showing up for them. 

He doesn’t see how amazing he is, but Zuko does, every day. It’s hard to ignore something that bright.