#‌How Does Tonsillitis Feel?

[lilianalovespink]

Your lungs burn.

Your skin does too.

Sweat soaked clothes cling to your skin, cotton made heavy by the sheer amount of it that you've let off in the last hour of training.

But most importantly, there's a lump in your throat that aches worse than any cough ever could've- feeling like that time you had tonsillitis as a child.

"'ny more wisdom or are you done, private?"

If you cry now, he'll be kind; understanding. He always is, but that's the problem.

"I'm done captain."

~

'Unable to follow orders without questions, unable to integrate into the team.'

Sincerely and with your entire heart, you wish only the worst upon John Price. You could follow orders, you could work with them- if they let you.

A discomfort of needle like nature pulls through your muscles at that thought, considering that you had in fact voiced it and that the consequence had been the training you usually do over the course of three hours having to get done within an hour, no breaks, no warmups.

The worst part, you thought as you stepped out of the showers, is that in his view, he didn't hate you but rather...think you incompetent; a cocky amateur with too much of their chest puffed out.

You, a little child, a toddler acting rebellious or throwing a tantrum, and him, the sensible adult, strict but 'caring'.

"Shh, I know. This is too much for you. I know."

Leave it to him to make comfort a painful act; one for you to be belittled during, made out to be just another stupid teen in over their head.

Yes, you were younger than your commander, your captain, but no younger than your lieutenant or seargant.

Just not at their rank.

Your transfer to the 141 was abrupt, but by no means unwelcome. You were the best in your recruitment class, you were capable but as price, at the time you thought jokingly, put it, you weren't 'broken in'.

And boy did he have every intention of breaking you.

Training was tough, but doable except-

"You were top of your class? Again."

"There's a reason you're still a private."

"If you can't manage, leave."

And then, whenever you snap at him, show teeth at the hand that constantly strikes you, he's a saint. He's really just putting you what everyone else is going through, why are you this upset? Clearly because you're immature.

If you can hold back your urge to bite bite bite- this man, if you try to ask him stuff it's really a coin flip of what version of Captain John Price you'll get.

"You can't handle it? That's okay. It's okay, hey- no crying. Come here...yeah, that's a good girl."

Or, in case you didn't crawl between his legs like a scared puppy-

"I'm only being hard on you because I thought you wanted to be better. Was I wrong about that? Or do you want to be something other than a private one day?"

The worst part is that, the team seems to see you as a puppy as well- with you literally getting that as a monicker.

Lt. Riley wasn't as cold and mysterious as you expected when you first saw the mask, but he certainly wasn't hellbent on letting you be his buddy, let alone his comrade. He never helped you out unless you asked, but, should you make that mistake, to ask for help, he'll nod and simply guide you aside like you're a sheep and he's your shepherd. Like teaching you wasn't literally his job.

Sgt. MacTavish as well as Sgt. Garrick had initially been warm and inviting, had made you feel like this was your team- until you noticed how they'd leave you out whenever they could. Sure, neither of them were rude but- they weren't proper teammates either.

And then, of course, Captain Price.

What should you say about this man? How horrible he is? Would that do what he's put you through any justice?

As if this alienation from the people you literally had to trust with your life wasn't bad enough, the way they seemed to pity you was worse. Like you were a small child who dropped your candy.

It hurt, badly.

So when Commander Philipp Graves joined for a mission in Los Alamos and was the only one who treated you like you were on one level?

Yeah, you took the bait.

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 4

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

This chapter is a bit longer so I hope you all like it. I'll admit did write a lot of this while I was at work lol

Chapter 4

“Sorry you had to wait for so long in our office during the meeting.” Changbin apologizes again as they sit in the waiting area of the doctors office. 

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind.” She smiles at him while she’s filling out the paperwork given to her by the receptionist. 

Chan can’t help but to glance down at it as she writes the answers to each of the medical questions. 

The normal of her date of birth, which he now knows she’s younger than Jeongin by a few months. When she presented which was when she was seventeen, a late presenter, not unheard of but uncommon. Any medical surgeries, she had her tonsils taken out as an infant. 

He feels guilty for looking at her answers for the female section but he reassures himself that it’s because he wants to know if she’ll need anything while she’s with them. Her last menstrual cycle having been the week prior so he won’t have to worry about making sure she has those products. That would have been an embarrassing call to Hannah for help with that. 

When she gets to the omega portion he frowns as she hesitates with the answers. Her last heat cycle… was when she presented? Chan knows that omegas have two heats a year at first starting out, a few years after presenting it becomes three. He thought that maybe he’d have to worry about her having not made it to that third one a year yet with her having presented late, but he wasn’t expecting for her to not have had a heat in six years. 

“Y/n L/n.” An omega nurse calls for the girl before approaching the three. “Dr. Hajoon is running a little behind so she wants me to go ahead and take you to get your blood drawn so that the lab work can be ready by the time she’s ready to see you.” 

“O-okay.” Y/n stands up obviously nervous and Chan and Changbin both stand too. 

“Sorry, there isn’t enough room for both of you to join, but we shouldn’t be too long. I’ll have her back out momentarily.” The nurse explains before starting to lead the way. 

Y/n hesitates but follows the nurse after Chan and Changbin both give her a reassuring nod that she’ll be okay. If it weren’t for the nurse being an omega the two alphas probably wouldn’t have let the girl go by herself. 

“Bin?” Chan speaks up after the omegas are out of sight behind the doors leading to the back. “Did you happen to look at the paperwork she was filling out?” 

Changbin frowns, giving his alpha a confused look. “No? Did you? You know that's an invasion of privacy right?” 

“I know.” Chan sighs, closing his eyes. “I just couldn’t help myself, wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything concerning, ya know?” 

“And is there?” 

Chan pauses for a moment before looking at Changbin. “She wrote down that her last heat was when she had first presented, about six years ago.” 

“What? How is that possible?” Changbin sits forward then looks confused when Chan pulls his phone out. “What are you doing?” 

“Texting Lix.” The older alpha brings up the betas contact as Changbin scoots over to see what is said. 

Channie Alpha♥️ Lixie baby, I need you to do Changbin and I a favor please. 

Lixie Baby🩵 Of course, anything 

Channie Alpha♥️ I need you to go into the room Y/n’s staying in. And look at her nest that you made for her.   

Lixie Baby🩵 Okay? 🤨

What about the nest? 

Channie Alpha♥️ Does it look any different from yesterday?

Lixie Baby🩵 It just looks slept in, why?

Channie Alpha♥️ It doesn’t look like she changed it at all? Everything's how you had placed it?

Lixie Baby🩵 No 🥺 everythings exactly how I had done it 

Channie Alpha♥️ Thank you baby, that’s all I needed

Lixie Baby🩵 Can I ask why you took her to see Dr. Hajoon? 

Channie Alpha♥️ You shouldn’t be stalking our location Lix. Minho just had some concerns he wanted us to get checked out is all. We’ll be home right after, I promise. Love you 

Lixie Baby🩵 Love you too 💕

“What does her not changing how Lix made her nest have anything to do with all of this?” Changbin finally asks after Chan puts his phone away. 

“When Lucas presented Felix had sent Olivia over to help him understand his omega tendencies.” Chan starts to explain. “The main thing they went over was nesting, it comes naturally to an omega but it’s different for everyone. She had said that the way she nests and the way Felix nests is completely different. So if an omega were to make a nest for another omega, the latter would still change it up a bit to make it more suitable for themselves. The only time it doesn’t happen is a communal nest because normally all of the omegas in the pack would build the nest together.”

“So Y/n’s omegas tendencies should have kicked in and she would have changed up the nest a bit to be more comfortable for her, but she didn’t.” Changbin repeats to make sure he’s understanding correctly as he doesn’t have any omega family members and Chan nods in confirmation. “So that and the lack of a heat for the last six years, how is that possible?” 

“The only thing I know that can cause someone to not have a heat is suppressants.” Chan hisses. “But it doesn’t suppress their other omega tendencies. And it’s only until you stop taking the suppressants…” 

“Meaning she never stopped taking them?” Changbin nods but then frowns.” Wait, I thought you guys said she didn’t have anything with her besides a car when you found her?”

“Yeah. She didn’t even have shoes. And I think I would have noticed if she grabbed a pill bottle at all.” Chan thinks back to the day before.

“Is she maybe not an omega?”

Chan gave Changbin an are you kidding me look. “Have you not smelled her? She’s an omega.” Then he thinks about what he overheard Minho and Jeongin say. “Though Min said he felt as though her scent isn’t fully there, which makes sense.” 

“Is it possible to not be a full omega?” Changbin pounders. “Like how Felix acts like one when he’s a beta. Could it be the opposite with her?” 

“I’m not sure.” Chan looks up as he smells Y/n walk back out into the waiting area, her uninjured arm taped from the blood draw. “But we’re gonna need to find out.” 

Y/n gives them as much of a convincing smile as she possibly can but they can tell from her scent that she didn’t have a pleasant experience. 

“You okay Y/nnie?” Changbin scoots away from Chan so she can sit back down between them.

“Yeah.” She nods and sits down. “Just don’t really like hospitals, especially being alone in one.”

“I’m sorry you had to go back there alone.” Chan places his hand on hers. “I promise we’ll be with you when Dr. Hajoon is ready to see you. She knows that we don’t like letting omegas go alone.”

She nods and takes comfort in knowing that they’ll be joining her in the examination room. 

After what felt like an hour but was more like fifteen minutes, a beta doctor with a clipboard of papers walks out and smiles at the three of them.

“Chris, Changbin.” The two stand and hug her before she turns and looks at Y/n. “And this must be the… omega… you told me about, Chris?”

“Yes, this is Y/n.” Chan smiles, placing a hand on the small of her back, all of them having taken notice of her hesitance to say her sub-gender. “Thank you so much for getting us in so quickly.”

“It’s no problem.” She turns back to Y/n once again. “It’s nice to meet you Y/n, I’m Dr. Hajoon. Let’s get you back to the examination room, I have your paperwork as well as the notes my nurse wrote down from getting your height and weight before you had your blood drawn. Are you okay with the alpha’s joining us?”

“Y-yeah.” The omega nods. “I would prefer that they do.”

“I had assumed so.” Hajoon nods and leads the three of them through the doors to the back. 

Once in the room Chan helps Y/n up on the examination table before sitting with Changbin in the seats and Hajoon grabs the stool while looking over the paperwork with a frown. 

“Alright, based on your paperwork I do have a few concerns but that is stuff that can wait until the end when we’re just discussing everything else and going over your blood work.” She starts off and sanitizes her hands before grabbing gloves. “I’m more worried about the wounds Chris told me about, can I take a look?”

Y/n rolls the sleeve up of the shirt she borrowed from Hannah’s closet to show the bruising on her wrist and the bandage on her upper arm. 

“Was it Minho who patched you up?” Hajoon smirks when the omega nods yes. “I figured, he’s the caretaker type.”

Changbin snorts. “Don’t let Min hear you say that.” 

The beta peels the bandage off her arm revealing more bruising and a deep gash. She inspects it, cleaning it a bit causing Y/n to hiss in pain a little. The two alphas shift in their seats wanting to protect the omega but knows the doctor is just doing what she needs. 

“Luckily it isn’t too deep. It looks like Minho did well in cleaning it but I’m seeing some early signs of infection, something he wouldn’t have been able to recognize.” Hajoon explains and rubs a topical ointment before bandaging it back up. “I’m gonna prescribe an ointment and antibiotics to take until it’s healed. As well as a bruise relief cream.” 

“Thank you.” Y/n whispers. 

“Chris had also mentioned bruising on your side and possible broken ribs?” 

“Yeah, that was Minho's main concern.” Chan speaks up again. “He wrapped her torso to help relieve any pain she may be in but we need to know if anything’s broken.” 

“Do you mind taking your shirt off?” The doctor asks and notices the girl's hesitancy. “If you want we can shut the curtain.” 

“It’s okay.” Y/n whispers and lifts up her shirt taking it off. 

Hajoon starts unwrapping her torso and it’s when she hears both Chan and Changbin growl that she knows the bruising is visible for all. She has the omega lay down on her back so she can feel her ribs for any breaks which causes the omega to hiss at some of the more sensitive bruising. 

“I don’t think you have any broken ribs.” The doctor explains. “Does it hurt at all to breathe?”

“No.” Y/n hisses again as the doctor touches another tinder spot. “But the prodding and poking does.” 

“Sorry.” The beta moves away from the table. “You can go ahead and put your shirt back on. But I do have to ask how these injuries happened?”

“I fell down a flight of stairs.” Y/n doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as she shrugs her shirt back okay.

“Hmm… before Chris and the betas found you, where were you living? Did you have a pack?”

“I was still living with my family pack.” This saddens Chan, thinking that her family might have done this to her.

“Another question I just have to ask as a part of my normal spiel. Do you feel safe?”

“Yeah.” The omega nods. “I do now at least.” 

Dr. Hajoon’s smartwatch goes off and she looks at it before turning to the computer in the room. “Your blood work came back so we can discuss the other concerns I have about your weight and lack of a heat.” 

Y/n glances at the two alphas to see their reactions but their expressions are neutral. 

The beta’s looks over the lab results and sighs before giving the omega a sad look.

“Did you know what it was?” Y/n gives a sad nod yes. “Did you get them done willingly?”

“My family forced me.” She mumbles playing with her hands.

“Forced what?” Chan cut’s in, sitting forward in the chair looking pissed.

Hajoon puts her hand up towards Chan as she continues looking at Y/n. “Besides your heats and scent, what else did it affect? And how often did you get them?”

“All of my omega tendencies.” She bows her head. “Every month since after my first heat.”

Chan grits his teeth not liking the sound of this conversation as he doesn’t fully know what's going on.

“Is it okay if I tell your alphas about it? That is if they promise not to lash out.” She eyes the two males until Y/n nods her head yes and waits for Chan and Changbin to also agree and once they do she sighs. 

“Her blood work came back positive for a suppressant injection. It isn’t like normal pill suppressants that can help postpone a heat, or a scent suppressor, it suppresses everything omega about her and even her appetite, why she’s underweight too. Why my nurse and I both were confused by her scent at first, we both smell a beta from her. These injections aren’t illegal but most refuse to practice with it because of the severity. It normally lasts up to thirty to forty days before needing another injection.”

“How do we smell her like an omega then?” Changbin speaks as Chan’s trying to keep calm. 

“The only way for anyone to smell a person's true sub-gender through a suppressant is if they are their fated mate.” Chan and Changbin’s jaws both drop. “You guys wouldn’t know you were fated mates though because of the suppressant, your alpha’s aren’t fully smelling her to tell you like normal. To you guys it seems as though her scent isn’t fully there.”

Chan and Chanbin both look at Y/n in awe now.

“So what do we need to do about the last injection she was given?” Chan leans forward and grabs Y/n’s hand to both help comfort her for what's about to be said and keep him from lashing out.

“Her blood work shows little traces of it, meaning it’s almost out of her system.” Hajoon looks back at the computer. “I would say in a few days her omega tendencies will start to return and she should restart her heat cycle. Though this first one will be a dry heat.”

“Dry heat?”

“A dry heat is when the body is not ready to reproduce or prepare for reproduction. Occurs when the omega is in a bad physical condition, mental state, or environment. When Omegas are in unsafe environments, examples; physical, mental, or emotional abuse, no pack bonds or mate, unfamiliar location, lots of stress or anxiety, which from what I can guess is a lot of what she’s been put through plus the suppressant, it’s bound to happen. It’s usually painful. Alters the body and shuts down all biological functions involved in reproduction and is not healthy but unavoidable this time. Dry heats can last anywhere from two to seven days. You guys will need to do a lot to help her during it. Take her to her nest or den. Do NOT leave her alone. Keep her hydrated, fed, and someone needs to maintain physical contact at all times. If the dry heat worsens, take her to the nearest hospital. Symptoms of it are haziness, cramps, separation anxiety, headaches, fearfulness, high emotions or extremely emotionless, distressed scent. I’ll have it all written down for you guys.”

“And… and what if I don’t have a dry heat, or any heat?” The omega fears.

“If you don’t go through one within a week, come back and we’ll try and figure out what's going on.” She reassures her as she types on the computer. “I’m sending in your prescriptions as well as setting you up with a therapist and psychologist. With what you’ve been through maybe we can get you on medication that can help with your mental health. They’re located in the same office as the two Jisung sees so I’ll see about getting you in at the same time as his so you both can just go together.”

“Thank you again for everything.” Chan stands up still holding the omega’s hand and helps her off the table.

“Anytime Chris, I’m always just a call away if you guys need anything.” She hands Changbin the papers with all the information they need. “Keep me updated.”

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[forlix]

"better, now."

words・749 / pairing・hyunjin x gn!stylist!reader / includes・fluff, established relationship, alcohol consumption / note・an extremely self-indulgent kinda emo take on hyunjin @ vfw. takes place in the crying lightning universe.

Hyunjin is gone.

He stopped walking and started floating about five drinks ago, bode farewell to coherent sentences and his eyesight not too long after. Simply kept plucking flutes of champagne off trays carried around by kindred waiters and let himself bask in the glorious evening.

When his stylist shows up in front of him, he mistakes them for the moon.

Gentle hands push strands of sweaty hair out of his eyes, then move to cup his cheeks fondly, protectively, as if imprinting final touches into a snow angel. He watches your lips form his name from mere centimeters away, but the sound of it seems to travel underwater.

“Hyunjin,” you repeat, more audibly this time, a lick of crisp night air cutting through the afterparty’s steamy throng.

He proceeds to melt into you in ways he cannot currently control, sliding a hand over the one you have on the side of his face, fingertips dipping in the slots between yours. Bringing you close enough to him that your chest moulds right against his. Grinning at you with a sickening sweetness that he can taste on his own mouth.

“Hi,” he replies.

“You okay? How are you?” You inquire. “Do you need anything?”

“Hi,” he says again, because he can’t really think of anything else, and that seems to be answer enough.

Before he knows it, he’s walking somewhere, guided only by the arm that he has slung over your shoulders and your silhouette, just barely discernible in the dim venue, which he would follow to the ends of the earth.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he’s standing in the doorway of an unoccupied lounge. The tables of polished mahogany and gold foil have become graveyards of empty wine glasses, but the couch in the middle of the room has been left pristine.

Only after he sits down does the lightheadedness hit, and it hits hard, hard enough to shut his eyes and furrow his brow. His brain swings around the inside of his skull like a pendulum.

There is a delicate brush of your finger against his chin, your quiet request for him to lift it up, and then something hard and cold comes to rest on his lower lip. Water surrounds his tonsils and slips down his throat. A few stray rivulets escape down the side of his neck, then disappear into the napkin that you have pressed upon the skin.

By the time he’s downed the whole glass, he can feel his wits beginning to return—with them, the rest of his senses. His eyes crack open again.

“Hot,” he whispers. “It’s hot.”

You move your hands to his shoulders. Moments later, his jacket is a leather mass over the back of the couch, and he feels his dizziness subside, his oxygen return. 

“Better?”

With the music so far away, he hears the concern in your tone with crystalline clarity. He leans over to press his lips to the underside of your jaw, conveying a silent message: better, now.

He didn’t have plans to spend the night backstage, but the premise seems riveting where he comes to lie. His head nestled in the plush of your lap, the rest of him stretched across the sofa, your hand carding through his hair with the soporific lull of a mellow tide.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles suddenly, and you look down at him, confused.

“For?”

“Getting so drunk.”

If your hand is the tide, your laugh is the sand, warm and ubiquitous and all-consuming. “You had a good time, yeah?”

A good time. What an understatement for the maelstrom of feeling still raging on within him, the happiness and disbelief and pride and gratitude to himself, to you. To us.

“The best,” he answers.

“That’s all that matters, then,” you hum, your thumb dusting over his hairline. “You deserve to celebrate.”

He’s still too drunk to really think, but he doesn’t have to think when it comes to you—just knows in the very wellsprings of his soul all the love you’ve woven into the thing you’re about to say, by the infinitesimal softening of your eyes alone.

“You deserve everything, baby.”

He lifts your wrist to his lips, presses a kiss to your pulse. Above him, your features blur, then come back into focus. His answer is so soft that he almost can’t hear it over the warble of his heartbeat and the descent of his tears.

“I’ve got it right here.”

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[tojipie]

Toji comforting a sick reader (seasonal cold-ish?) he’s not very good at it,but you can tell he’s trying by making tea and stuff and being softer then he normally is.Idk I just need comforting Toji 😭

content: established relationship, airhead toji, fluff

toji’s definition of being sick was a little unorthodox, to put it mildly.

colds were just not a thing in zenin household, especially for the black sheep of the family. if you were “sick” that meant being you were dead or nearing death. not a sore throat and some congestion.

toji would have gotten a slap across the face for skipping out on a day's work because he had the sniffles, “the weak link” as his dad liked to put it.

being anything except the pinnacle of health was out of the question growing up, and with time, his association of what “being sick” was gravitated further and further away from what was normal.

so when you first come down with a cold, the poor guy doesn’t even clock it at first.

toji watches you emerge from your shared bedroom at an impressive 2 o’clock in the afternoon, eyes rimmed red with a throw blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“sleep good?” he asks, clearly amused. the pounding in your head nearly drowns out the question. not wearing a jacket in 30° weather for the sake of showing off your outfit last night was probably not the greatest idea.

you don’t entertain his teasing as you flip the electric kettle on, grabbing 2 tea bags from the overhead pantry. something to soothe your raging tonsils. toji cracks open a bottle of water for you, passing it over with a hum.

the sip of water you try to down does nothing to help your sore throat. an ugly, phlegmy cough wracks your chest without warning, sending you into a doubled-over position.

toji pats your back lovingly as air fights to re-enter your lungs. the force of the coughs rubs your throat even more raw, if that was even possible.

“shit, you okay?” he asks, still unaware as ever.

you unflatteringly blow your nose into a tissue before answering him, cringing at how dry your lips still feel.

“something like that,” you mumble. voice raw and crackly. “do you know where the thermometer is?”

toji looks around from his spot at the counter, scratching the back of his head.

“no, why? you overheated or something?”

you stand there dumbfounded for about a second before firing back. overheated? you felt like death itself.

“i have a cold you moron.”

his mouth slowly parts into an “oh” as the realization washes over him. feeling under the weather was probably a bigger deal to you than it was for someone raised in what was essentially a prison.

“oh, baby,” he mumbles, reaching toward you with outstretched arms. a firm palm rubs between the plains of your shoulder bones, warming you from the outside. “feeling under the weather huh?” he coos.

you nod, already dozing off in his warm embrace. a shrill beep from the electric kettle lets you know that your water is ready.

toji quickly puts a hand out, ushering behind him.

“go back to bed sweet girl i’ll make your tea.”

bonus thought: he has to remake the tea twice because he dips the bags into the still-boiling water and they explode every time

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers Day 31: NYE countdown. Maxiel. About 1.5k words.

"Max, Maxy, Maximum, Maximus Prime!"

Max turns away from his conversation with Alex just in time to catch Daniel around the waist as he stumbles into him, the drink in his cup sloshing over his wrist.

"Hello, Daniel," Max says, unable to stop himself from smiling, readjusting his grip so that he can hold Daniel more comfortably.

From the corner of his eye he catches Alex moving away, probably deciding that their conversation is over now that Daniel has Max's attention. Which is a very fair assumption, given that in all the years they've been friends, Max has always dropped anyone and anything to focus on Daniel.

Some might call it pathetic, to still be in love with his best friend after so long, but Max doesn't really care about what other people think. He just cares about Daniel's warm weight in his arms, and the fact that when all the people at this party will have left their house, Daniel will still be there, probably moving stuff around to pretend he's helping with the clean up.

"Are you having fun, Daniel?" he asks, trying to maneuver them towards the kitchen, both to clean up Daniel's wrist before he complains about the stickiness and to not feel like every single person is staring at them.

Well, every single person other than Charles and Carlos, who seem to be trying to get acquainted with each other's tonsils.

"Yes," Daniel answers, letting himself be dragged away, stumbling unhelpfully on his own feet.

Once they're in the kitchen, occupied only by Logan and Oscar, heads bent over a phone, a half empty bottle of wine next to them, Max hoists Daniel on the counter, right next to the sink, swiping away a few empty paper plates.

"Stay still, please," he tells Daniel, grateful he doesn't have to shout as much over the music anymore. They should probably start lowering that actually, if they don't want the cops called on them again, but it's new year's eve, for sure old Meredith could let it slide this once.

He plucks Daniel's cup from his hand, something of not clear nature inside it, and wets a couple paper towels, gently wiping at his wrist and hand.

"Maxy," Daniel says, dropping his head forward to rest it on Max's shoulder. He's making Max's job harder like this, but Max is not going to complain. He just hums, showing Daniel he's listening.

"I have decided on my resolutions list," Daniel tells him, sounding slightly more sober than he did before.

Max drops the paper towels and grabs an empty cup, filling it with water from the sink and handing it to Daniel, coaxing him to raise his head to drink it.

Daniel had been talking about his resolutions list for more than a week. Max is not sure why he's so set on having new year's resolutions, since in the past eight years he's known him not once Daniel has been the kind of person who follows a plan, but he's been listening anyway every time he brought the topic up.

Max doesn't understand why he's having so much trouble creating the list either. Sure, Daniel does have his moments of perfectionism, but seeing him actually get stressed about this had been puzzling.

"Yeah? Can I know it?" he asks, dropping the now empty cup when Daniel hands it to him before opening his arms, letting Daniel comfortably slump into him again.

Somewhere on his left, Logan and Oscar leave the kitchen, closing the door behind them, cutting off a little more of the noises of the party, making Max feel like he's in his private Daniel bubble for the first time this evening.

He's not ashamed of saying that he's a bit possessive, greedy about having his fair share of Daniel's time, but he's gotten better with the years. The last time Daniel had been in a relationship, Max hadn't even tried to scare them off, but they had gone anyway after a couple of months, leaving a very mopey Daniel behind. Max had keyed their car.

"First thing, I want to learn how to play the banjo," Daniel says, way too loud way too close to Max's ear.

It makes Max smile anyway, knowing this point will be abandoned in a few months at most, just like every other instrument Daniel had tried to learn, getting bored with each one of them.

"Good start," he encourages anyway, because he's nothing but disgustingly soft when it comes to Daniel, even worse when he's tipsy like tonight.

He gets rewarded by Daniel pulling back to beam at him, before going back to Max's shoulder.

Sometimes holding himself back from kissing him takes all of Max's strength.

"Then, I want to improve my handwriting."

Yep, just as Max had thought. Another task that will be abandoned, like all the other times Daniel had tried before.

"I can read your handwriting," Max tells him, because it's true. No matter the kind of drunken chicken scratch he finds on the grocery list, Max has learned to interpret it all. It's not that hard really, when you manage to recognise the subtle differences between the squiggles. Part of the game is actually learning what is supposed to be a word and what is a doodle.

"You can, because you're great," Daniel mumbles against his shirt, as Max tries to pretend he can't feel himself blushing, "but I am so tired of people complaining about it."

"People should just learn how to read," Max tells him, unhappy with someone making Daniel feel like he should change. Which is very stupid, because Daniel is perfect, chicken scratches included.

It makes Daniel laugh, waist moving under Max's hands, his wet bottom lip dragging against the exposed part of Max's shoulder.

"Do you have any more?" he rushes to ask, trying to distract himself from the feeling of it.

In the other room, the music gets lowered, and for a second Max thinks it's the cops again, until he hears someone scream two minutes!

They should probably rejoin their friends, celebrate midnight with them, but Max is quite comfortable where he is, and he doesn't want to see Daniel grab someone to kiss, even if just to laugh about it afterwards.

He had long learned his lesson, after one year he had tried to angle himself in Daniel's line of view, just for him to reach around him and grab Charles instead. Max had gotten way too drunk that night.

"One more," Daniel says, voice even lower now that the music is off and they're so close. He sounds more hesitant suddenly, nervous fingers fidgeting with the hem of Max's shirt.

"Do you want to tell me?" Max asks, just to be sure. Sometimes Daniel needs a little push before he opens up, but it's always a very thin line between getting an answer and being shut out with a joke instead. This time Daniel nods.

"I want to suck your dick."

Max chokes on his spit, trying to push back Daniel to be able to see his face, feeling his eyes go wide.

It wouldn't be the first time they joke about it, but Daniel doesn't sound like he's joking, and if this is a prank Max is going to get very drunk again and probably go cry in the bathroom, but...

But when he manages to push Daniel's head up, he's blushing and he's looking at Max from underneath his lashes, fear and determination mixing on his face.

"You mean it?" Max forces himself to ask, sounding breathless. His heart is beating too fast, so loud he's sure Daniel can hear it too.

Daniel nods, one corner of his mouth turning up in a shadow of his usual smile.

"My last resolution is to stop lying to myself about my feelings for you," he says.

It echoes around his brain, bouncing around and amplifying: feelings for you feelings for you feelings for you feelings for you.

In the other room someone starts the countdown, and Max reaches forward, cupping Daniel's jaw with his hands.

"Are you gonna buy me dinner first?" he asks, just to see Daniel smile properly.

"Can I do it next year?"

Max rolls his eyes, but he still chuckles, weak for Daniel always, even when it's his bad jokes.

Three, two, one...

On the other side of the door sound explodes, their friends cheering and screaming, but Max barely hears it as he presses his lips against Daniel's.

(George screams when he opens the door to come grab the champagne chilling in the fridge and finds them making out against the counter, Max's thigh between Daniel's. The new wave of cheers that follows it is so loud Max starts mentally preparing his apologies for old Meredith and the cops, even as he copies Daniel in flipping them all off.)

[shelbgrey]

Fluffy headcanons with Johnny Lawrence

Paring: Teen!Johnny Lawrence x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: headcanons about how Johnny reacts/handles dating a sunshine type of girlfriend that's always doing nice things for him even if he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

Request: @johnnylawerencegirl1984

MasterList ML2

Your admiration for him:

You started dating him after Ali left him for Daniel, of course his heart was more broken than it already was. People confused that with a broken ego.

Sometimes he doesn't feel worthy of your smile, he doesn't know what he did to deserve the way your eyes sparkle for him.

His favorite thing about you is your wormth and sometimes he doesn't understand how you can look at the world with hope and happiness.

You look past the bully label he was given, you see a side of him no one else does. He feels lucky that you chose to see the best in him.

You're always there to cheer the loudest for him during karate competitions. He doesn't show off, just wants to make you proud. You don't care if he wins or loses, you're proud of him.

“I got 3rd place” he tossed the trophy in the back seat of his car. You grabed, admiring it. “You did amazing, this Awesome. I'm proud of you”

The first time he heard you say you were proud of him, he swore his heart skipped a beat. He was glad it was night time so the redness in his cheeks wasn't visible. He also played it off like it was no big deal, still being a tough guy. “well, you can have it”

So, it ended up at your house and you displayed It with pride. It means a lot to Johnny.

Cuddles and kisses:

Johnny did learn quickly that you're not like the other girls he's dated or been with. The girls he's been with seemed to be a 'love em and leave em' situation. Make out and a little bit of fondling in a car then bye bye. But you wanted to take things slow and you were more of a 'sweet kisses' type of person. He learned to be okay with that.

He actually learned to love it, the way you chose to kiss his cheek or his forehead. It feels like they mean more than a little bit of tonsil hockey.

He secretly loves cuddles, especially after a long day at the dojo. You have no problem canceling a night out so he could just lay there with his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

“just let me cuddle you, tough guy”

The only time 'you cuddle him' is after a rough time at the dojo or if he's soar. Any other time he's holding you, you're the little spoon or you're laying on his chest.

He's more of a protector type, so he holds you safe and close. Sometimes it comes off as possessive, but it's not.

Anytime you're out in public together he's always holding your hand, showing people your his. If he can't hold your hand, his cober kai jacket is draped over your shoulders or you're wearing it completely. Anyway to show your taken.

When you play with his hair:

He's an absolute sucker for you playing with his hair. It's always so gentle and loving, the exact opposite of what he usually receives.

If he's tired or had a rough day, he'll lay his head in your lap or on your chest and just fall asleep to your fingers running through his hair.

Wearing his stuff:

Nothing boosts his ego more than you wearing his red cobra Kai jacket. He couldn't believe(well he can) how sexy you look in it.

He lets you wear it once on a date and he's not getting it back for like a week. The mixture of his colonel and his natural musk gives it a comforting feel. Not to mention it's so fucking warm.

“am I ever gonna get my jacket back?”

“maybe” you teased.

If you're staying at his place and you need somthing more comfortable to laz around in, he'll give you his old gi pants. They're basically thin sweat pants so it's comfy.

And don't even get him started on seeing you in his band shirts.

When his friends are around you:

It's so much fun to be around his friends, the cobra Kai team isn't as scary as they look. If Johnny can't be around, you're left with Tommy or Bobby.

You get along with Tommy the best, he kinda became a bonus best friend. He's sweet and goofy when he's not kicking ass on the mat and trying to be a tough guy.

Johnny is pretty happy you get along with them so well. You'd think he'd be jealous at some point, but he doesn't. At first the guys would rather choose life over playfully flirting with you, but once you all get comfortable with each other they always playful tease and flirt.

“so, when are you gonna ditch this loser and give me a chance,” Bobby teased, which Johnny would just roll his eyes. “in your dreams, idiot” you'd reply.

“how about you get on the back of my bike and we'll take it for a spin, mines way faster than Johnny's” - Tommy.

The boys and Johnny are different when Kreese is around. If you come to the dojo to watch, they are all like ten soilders. You feel bad because it's like a switch that's turned off. Johnny and Tommy aren't smiling and Bobby is quiet, but as soon as classes are over they are back to being lovable idiots.

Johnny's friends are always trying to get homework awnsers off of you. “think about it, you give me bio awnsers... And I'll give you front row seats at the next tournament and you can drool over your hot boyfriend” Tommy teased.

You also keep them in line, even try to get them to stop teasing Daniel. Sometimes they do piss you off to the point they see a side of you that's 'scary'.

Tommy: “Yes, ma'am” Bobby: “sorry”

Johnny finds it hilarious when you yell at his buddies and they immediately listen like it's their mother and not just Johnny's girlfriend.

When you compliment him:

So, let's be honest, Johnny is stupid hot. He knows and so does everyone else, but you never fail to catch him off guard with your little compliments.

You also say stuff so shamelessly. He loves it and it never fails to make him smile. “I love your eyes”

Sweet things like that he loves, but then sometimes you say stuff that makes him double take. “your ass looks great in that gi, by the way”

“you can't just say that” he mumbleds, quickly turning around so his butt wasn't facing you anymore. “why not?” you smirk. “don't act like you say the same thing and smack it whenever you want”

“that's different,” he argued, turning red. “I'm your boyfriend, I can do that” then he back tracks, remembering he wants to be a better boyfriend for you. “Wait. That sounds wrong in a way”

You love it when he wears his Cobra Kai gi. After a tournament you always give him a big hug and kiss even though he's all sweaty. “I love you in this thing” you smirked, fisting the top of his gi, pulling him closer.

“I know you do” he smiles, shaking his head playfully.

How he gives back:

He's so gentle with you, he's never had a girl that just wanted cuddles and wanted to spend time with him.

He also learned to observe the little things, like he gets his favorite smile out of you when he kisses your forehead.

Like I said he's protective of you. One of his biggest things is your not getting on his bike without a helmet. He'll buy you one and if you don't have it with you, he'll make you wear his and he'll go without.

He'll beat anyone's ass who harms you. If you're getting bullied, he'll take care of it. Don't be suprised if the bully shows up to school with a black eye.

If you're the type of person that needs the reassurance that he loves you, he'll make sure to always tell you that he loves you. “I don't tell you it that much because I figured you know already... I'll make sure to tell you I love you way more”

If he can help it, he'll make sure Kresse and his step-dad never come near you.

He'll spoil you with gifts, he knows you deserve it. But his time matters more to you than a necklace or tickets to a concert.

His motor bike keys have a Keychain with your initial.

If you want to learn krate too he wants you to learn from Mr. Miyagi deep down, he doesn't want Kresse to hurt and bully you too. He knows Mr. Miyagi was fair to Daniel and he'd rather you learn from someone like him.

Keeps love notes you send him in an old converse shoe box.

He makes you mix tapes all the time.

[andre-and-cal]

We need more NSFW Bottom Andre HC's 🙏

At your service 😼💪 another anon asked for more, so here !!

Top Cal, Bottom Andre

The first time they really messed around, excluding the clumsy handjobs and blowjobs they’d given each other multiple times before, it took around 10 minutes of Cal trying to convince Andre to let him fuck him— or stretch him out a little, at least. Because every time Cal’s fingers brushed against his asshole, or whenever he’d mention “sticking it in”, Andre kept on pussying out. It made him feel strange knowing he was about to be in a girl’s position; it made him feel unusual and uncomfortable with himself, as if he didn’t want to be vulnerable around Calvin in that way— which likely sounds weird enough, knowing the amount of crazy shit the two have done together.

Cal let him take his time, but he knew he was gonna have to push him a little. He tried to be encouraging at first, but he grew frustrated every time Andre told him he was ready, but kept scooting away. Though, luckily, Cal was soon able to stick his fingers inside Andre, and then eventually feel his tight, tense insides clinging to his dick. He went kind of slow— as slow as he could, really, because he’s equally as inexperienced as Andre and wanted this to be good for the both of them. However, he did struggle to stay in pace, and would occasionally buck his hips against Andre’s ass, hitting his prostate and drawing out a startled groan from the other boy.

Calvin has to feel all of Andre, especially when the intimacy between them becomes intense. When Andre’s between his legs blowing him all wet and sloppy, he can’t help but grab at Andre’s neck or face, watching the way his throat both constricts and stretches around his dick. Cal occasionally slams his cock back against the back of Andre’s mouth to watch him choke and gag, watch the tears well up in the usually stone-faced brunet’s dark eyes. In addition, Cal likes to hold his throat and grip a tuft of dark hair— even though Andre has a sensitive scalp— when he goes so far back he can feel his tonsils, or brush the pad of his thumb against his bulging Adam’s apple. It’s kind of painful for Andre, having to take Cal in his mouth and all, so he pinches Cal’s thigh when it’s too much for him.

Andre is a squirmer. Especially when Cal’s feeling up his prostate gland. Every time the teen finds that sensitive sweet spot inside him, Andre has to slap a hand over his mouth to contain his whimpers. At first, he didn’t want Calvin to hear him moan. It was really fucking embarrassing, and even now, he still sort of struggles to want to let himself make noises. But Calvin does pry Andre’s hand off his mouth, forcing his arm away from his face, to which Andre only protests weakly and doesn’t put up much fight.

Calvin experiences an intense rush of megalomania remembering how he can make Andre cum in his pants. He’ll lean over him and grind against his thigh, whining in his ear about how he dictates Andre more than his own parents, how badly he needs him, how he needs to feel him wrapped around his dick. He’ll palm the teenager through his cargo pants or jeans, squeeze him a little. Andre can’t help it, fuck, he can’t contain himself when Cal talks like that, with his declaration of proprietorship over him. Because frankly, hey’re each other��s— Cal belongs to Andre and Andre belongs to Cal. They’re Andre and Cal. And when Calvin finally took a look inside Andre’s boxers, he taunted him for the sticky mess staining the fabric. Andre’s cheeks burned hotly, and he tried to cover himself up, telling Cal to shut the fuck up about his predicament.

Sometimes, Cal will strangle Andre. He’ll grab at his throat, dig his nails deep into his skin, and push him down against his bed, or any flat surface like the floor. Or, when he’s angry with him and needing to gear his loss of temper into something else, he’ll shove him against the driver’s seat and straddle him— if they’re in Andre’s car. He’ll slowly grind his hips against Andre’s, all the while keeping a firm grip on his neck, prompting Andre to wince and grunt. Cal only really chokes him out when he’s pissed off, and every so often he kind of “tests” Andre by making him see stars and nearly pass out. Andre doesn’t want to admit that he now likes the feeling of his airway getting shortened— though at first, it was terrifying. He’d shoved Cal off of him, put him in a chokehold, and told him to “never do that shit again”. But Cal ended up doing it again, and again, and again. And Andre eventually grew to stop shoving his hand off his throat, succumbing to Cal’s tight, uncomfortable grip. After all, him and Cal can sway each other’s views— they enable behaviors that could be considered risky and unhealthy. But it’s okay, because by this point, the Army of Two is practically a single entity.

[dark-and-kawaii]

♡⟡˙⋆ His ⋆˙⟡♡

♡ Dark Content

♡ You look so good on your knees for them ~

Traitor Zevlor, but it’s him with his nails digging into your scalp. Guiding your head up and down his ridged cock, fucking your throat until you are choking… Until you have tears running down those pretty cheeks of yours while gagging.

It hurts and burns but he moans your name so beautifully, so feral like that it’s makes your eyes roll back as he thrusts into your mouth one final time before holding you there. The smell of him, the taste, and his heat fill your senses. His cum is so warm, hot and thick. You can feel every inch of him sliding against your tongue, down your gullet, until your stomach is filled nicely.

“If you won’t bow to the Absolute, then you will bow to me.”

You want to say something, anything to make him understand. Make him understand that you already worshipped everything about him prior to his betrayal… But when you attempt, only a pathetic gargle leaves your throat, the vibrations massaging the head of his softening cock.

The sharp end of his tail creeps up your shirt and with one good tug of it, he rips it open, exposing your chest. He chuckles and leans down.

“Dont be frightened, my darling. I will show you how good my love can really be, unlike before when I was the timid leader of the tieflings .”

Rolan, but it’s him with his tail wrapped around your delicate neck, his cock threatening to cut off your air.

He knows the power he has over you, the way your body is pliant and weak in his grip. Maybe it’s because he just got done being smacked around by Lorroakan, maybe it’s because he’s so pent up with rage that he can hardly control himself, or maybe it is some dark, twisted desire he’s always had to claim you like this.

Your head feels so light, so dizzy, your vision blurring as he plunges his cock down your throat, moving your tonsils aside and wedging the head into the opening of your esophagus. Gagging and choking. Rolan can feel you try to break free but his hands and tail keep your knees pinned to the towers flooring.

“Always so greedy for more until you have it. You should be careful what you wish for, dear. I know you wanted a taste of me, but I can tell by the tears in your eyes that you might not be able to handle the whole thing.”

Rolan growls, his chest heaving with the force of his breath. He can feel you gagging on his cock, trying to get free. He can feel the panic rise in your body, the way you struggle and squirm and try to break free, “should I smack you around like Lorroakan does to me?”

You shake your head the best you can, the feeling of his tail around your neck making it hard to breathe. The way he has you pinned, the weight of him over you is suffocating. So why are you so wet? Why are you secretly wishing to see more of this side of him…?

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 8: Trouble

woAH WhATs THIs DoINg HeRE??? Well I mean, it does have Sunhinged in it, so it's still matching the theme

Word count: 994

Content Warning: suggestive themes, lots of smoochin and the likes

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

You know, you may not be the most well-traveled individual, but you'd argue you had your fair share of experience when it came to good places to make out. Bedrooms, cars, rooftops, dark corners of house parties, and so on. 

Admittedly, a supply closet was a first for you.

You think the added factor of being the Daycare's supply closet should also count for something. 

You were also making out with a robot, but that didn't get you points in the location category. Maybe in a whole hell of a lot of others though. Wow. Man, if the rest of the security team finds out about this they're never going to let you live it down. You think your co-occupant of the closet, might have similar beliefs.

"Friend~ you're gonna get us in trouble," Sun warns, though it's more a statement than a warning. You almost think he doesn't care at this point.

Good. Though, you can't let him get by with that statement. 

You break your latest kiss, putting a hand under his chin, smirk on your lips, "Sun, I don't think you're in anyway the one who has the right to say that. Especially not with how loud those fans of yours are."

"Well, they wouldn't be so loud if you weren't so, particular, Starlight," His words are in that usual cheerful tone but there's an edge to them.

"Particular?"

He nods once, "You seem to be so utterly determined to mark up my face with those, truthfully, pretty pretty lips of yours, and I have no choice but to return the favor."

"Sun," You coo.

"Friend."

Your fingers wrap around one of his rays before sharply pulling his face down to yours, "You're the one that dragged me in here in the first place."

And to your credit, you hadn't been expecting him to either. You'd been doing your usual patrol for this time of night, when all of the sudden you'd found yourself among the throughs of craft supplies.

You weren't exactly complaining about the situation you then found yourself in. Haveing been quickly lifted up to eye level, hands gripping your waist to help sit you on the shelf you were currently on. Hands which were still wandering your abdomen, having found access under your shirt and greedily soaking up the contact with your skin. Again, you weren't complaining.

"Did I?" He tilts his head, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb pressing down on your lower lip. Inspecting, scrutinizing. It makes you scoff internally.

"Mhm."

You feel him press down just a tad harder, "I'm afraid I don't recall such a thing. Are you sure you're feeling alright, friend?"

"Friend is a bold expression for someone you've been playing tonsil hockey with for the past ten minutes, Sunny," You pull back, wiping your mouth.

He's not impressed by your idiom, "Do you have to use such crude language?"

"Do you have to be so formal?"

He chuckles, "It's a force of habit, Sweetheart. But if it hurt your feelings I'm so very sorry for that."

"Oh I'm sure you-" There's a noise that starts to crackle to life. Your radio. Shit. 

"Hey, anybody been by the Daycare in a bit?"

You wait, hushing Sun when he starts to speak up. 

"Do something about your fans," You hiss.

His rays spin, "It's not something I have total control over, Sunshine."

Someone else answers, "Yeah, think ------- was supposed to swing by. All clear over there?"

Well now you don't have a choice, unless you want to risk someone walking over here and finding, this. 

You pray no one can hear the background noise surrounding you, "Yeah, all good. The Attendant wanted to show me some drawings. You know how he is," You can feel the irritation radiating off of him at that comment, you continue, "I'll be heading back in a few."

"Ten four."

The walkie stays dead after that. 

You relax with a sigh, "Christ."

"And thus you've proven my point," Sun says, matter of factly. 

You scoff, "Sure."

"If you weren't so insatiable, you might be on your way by now."

You call bullshit on that one. You could make up any excuse on the spot and the other guards would buy it. No one at this place cared that much. Your timing isn't the problem at all.

Rather, it's the issue of a closed supply closet having a very noticeable light on, which multiple times has caused curious eyes to come wandering closer. Leading to almost getting caught more than you'd ever like. 

You say as much.

"If you didn't insist on keeping the light on, we might be a little better off," You nod up to the dingy bulb, twirling the string around your finger for emphasis, "What's the matter, think the dimness isn't enough for you-"

Sun snatches your wrist, leering closer, "Lights. On."

You stare at each other; your eyes having widened just a fraction. His expression of course being essentially immobile save for maybe a twitch in one eye you might've imagined. You could never tell if you were just making it up when it seemed his eyes moved. 

His rays tick to one side. He's waiting. 

"Heard," You relent, and in doing so he releases you. 

There's a sharpness to his tone, you can't quite place it, "Wonderful."

You wait a moment. 

"Is that an all clear to continue or...?"

"You really need to get better about these things," Sun's hand rests on your cheek again with a sigh, "Your attractiveness just barely trumps your ability to kill the mood."

"And yet, here you are," You simper.

A click, he leans in closer, "That wasn't merely a suggestion."

"I know," You tip your head up, "But you're gonna have to do better than that. Tick, tock. Unless you really want to risk getting in trouble."

Knowing him, he can't resist that kind of challenge. 

All the better for you.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

You know, there was a fic like this once, and when I checked in on the sb fandom a year ago I found it was gone and that is part of the reason why Confused Spirit exists, shoutout to that author, you brain is/was massive, my other promtobers are here btw. They're not suggestive but some of them do have Sunhinged <3

edit: woke up in a cold sweat bc I realized that this was missing the first two paragraphs, if you saw it before the fix I’m so sorry 😭😭 anywho goodnight it is like 2 in the morning lmaooo

[star-girl-05]

New Years Resolutions

James Wilson x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

There was one thing that House did really well: he threw amazing parties. Even if you despise House you want an invite to his parties. This year House went all out for New Years. Everyone was buzzing about the party and when the time finally came, you were not disappointed. 

By the time it was eleven you were drunk, along with the rest of the party. The only difference between you and them is the fact that they hold their liquor much better than you. You don’t feel sick no that's not the problem no your problem is when you get drunk you get frisky. Your current victim is your boss' best friend James Wilson.

Sober you thought Wilson was hot so drunk you thought he was a god. How could you not flirt with him especially when he’s flirting back? At least you think he’s flirting back. Wait does making out with you count as flirting? You should ask Cameron, right after you finish making the hickey on his neck darker. 

“GUYS THE COUTDOWNS STARTED” someone shouts. You pull away from Wilson watching as everyone starts pairing off. Shit you forgot to get a person to kiss at midnight. You were looking forward to that. 

"FIVE" 

"FOUR"

You feel a tug on your arm and you turn back to Wilson. He's pushing his lips back against yours. Your hands settle in his hair, you're so lost in the kiss you almost forgot it was New Years till the whole party erupts in cheers.

Wilson pulls away making you pout, “My New year's resolution is to make-out with you every single day” that made your pout drop a smile forming on your face.

“Make it every hour and you’ve got a deal." He gives you a dorky smile before kissing you again. 

“Jesus you two are you removing each other's tonsils?" House shouted making everyone that heard laugh. You and Wilson didn’t even bother to spare House a glance. This is the best New Years ever.

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

random jason todd hcs bc i said so!! pt 1

ft. red hood, arkham knight, and robin jason pt 2

ak!jason is the type of guy who would workout in silence

would probably get tattoos if he could sit in one place for long enough. i don’t mean in a hyperactive way, more like a feeling like he can’t move does not sit well with homeboy

on that note probably hates sedatives or not being able to move freely aka bro will refuse surgery even on his death bed

like who gaf if he needs to get his tonsils removed yknow

ak!jason knows how to speak spanish because i cannot imagine him trying to start a militia without even being able to communicate with them

also bruce seems like the type of guy to force his kids to learn a lot of languages just in case it comes up

don't actually know if rh!jason would listen to mitski but if you made him read the lyrics he's going to be very quiet after that

would want to go to college or at least online classes at community college (remember this is the same guy who liked school, would probably be mad he never got to graduate high school what with the whole being dead thing)

also sorry something in my heart breaks at the idea of him being so proud of being the first person in his family to go to college

unfortunately i refuse to believe that rh!jason can’t cook

he hung out with alfred a lot, probably picked up a thing or two

also i think even if he didn’t know how to cook before dying, when he comes back he’ll pick it up eventually

not because he has a lot of free time as a crime lord, but because nobody else in the batfam can cook so he’d pick it up out of spite

also probably does not have social media, don’t think he would’ve had a phone growing up, was too busy being robin and i don’t think bruce would have exactly explained how instagram works to him

and then once he comes back, he’s busy, probably doesn’t even know what to post or who he personally knows who would follow him

maybe would get social media once he reconciles with the batfam and then opens it every once in a while to see what everybody’s up to

i feel like he would like reddit though. not in like the reddit mod type of way but like he just likes the drama on r/amitheasshole and r/relationshipadvice

imagine jason posting “aita for attempting to blow up my dad’s car for not avenging my death”

robin!jason is the type of kid who does not respect his elders at all and will bully them

but it hurts the most because you know he’s telling the truth and sometimes he’s not even trying to be mean

“why do you have no hair? are you balding?”

“wow you eat so much. no wonder you’re fat.”

also probably asks if you have games on your phone and will judge you

but also sweet and offer to help you do chores

i would charge $20 to babysit him because he’d be cute but also i would have therapy bills to pay

but at least he’s not picky with food and we can talk about books or something

m.list | next >

[harmonictechnicality]

thinking about Steve digging into a KFC bucket around Eddie, who is about to snap in half at the sight of it. Just seeing Steve Harrington sink his teeth into a chicken thigh, sucking on a drumstick bone, swallowing the most ungodly-sized bites he’s ever seen. His eyes are fucking locked on Steve’s lips that are extra shiny from all the grease. Eddie can’t even touch his own damn food because his stomach is in knots from this weirdly erotic and carnivorous circus act.

Steve smears the grease off with the back of his hand, staring hard at Eddie. “What?”

“Huh?”

Dumb. Idiotic. Why is Eddie suddenly experiencing the same level of flusteredness as the varsity cheer squad around this guy? It’s just Steve. Steve eating meat…

Thick, juicy, noisy meat in Steve’s mouth. His mouth that looks so-

“Dude, try some.” Steve waves a half-eaten chicken wing in front of Eddie’s face. He’s smiling as he chews, looks honest to god tipsy from how much he’s enjoying this meal.

Eddie shrugs, pops his knuckles to keep his hands busy. “Not hungry.”

Which is a big, fat lie. He is hungry. Thoroughly starving to see Steve in angles that are banned from biblical literature.

“Christ on toast, Harrington, close your mouth. I can see your fucking tonsils from here.” And yeah, that’s a problem too. Eddie could draw the inside of Steve’s mouth from memory by now. Could make himself a handy little diagram on how stuffed it could be if he just-

“Can’t help it.” Steve interrupts. He tears another piece of meat off and chomps as he speaks. Says something that actually breaks the last bit of dignity in Eddie’s soul. “It’s finger lickin’ good.”

Right, yup. Okay. Eddie is all impulses after that. His gaze drops to Steve’s slick hands. His ears only able to process words at a caveman baseline:

‘Finger. Lick. Good.’

Yeah. That does sound pretty good to him. Really good, actually.

So Eddie reaches across the table and takes Steve by the wrist. He opens his mouth, swirls Steve’s index finger over his tongue, sucking on it for way too long. Makes a loud slurping sound as he returns Steve’s hand back to him. He’s pretty sure Steve gasped at the contact, but couldn’t exactly focus on anything other than the taste of salt and grease and skin.

As Eddie sits back down in his chair, he examines Steve’s face. Red everywhere. Up his ears, down his neck. He isn’t moving either - like Eddie’s little stunt just paused all the muscles in his body or something.

He should run. Avoid getting beat up by a guy who’s a former jock. Besides, Eddie Munson is somewhat famous on cowardly shit like running away. It wouldn’t exactly be unheard of for him.

But he doesn’t. Instead, Eddie dabs the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Takes a deep breath in. Smiles sweetly over at Steve, sweet enough to feel playful. Edging on mean.

“Looks like it wasn’t false advertising after all.” Eddie tosses the used napkin at him. Isn’t trying to make Steve flinch, but it happens anyways. “Finger lickin’ good is an understatement.”

“Understatement?” Steve studies his finger, the one Eddie just used like a jolly rancher, then smiles wide:

“Should be mandatory with you, Munson.”

[fandomnerd9602]

Hug Your Besties

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

For @supercorpdanbeau

Petra Parker was feeling on top of the world. She was number one in her academic career, the star player on the academic decathlon team, in second place was her boyfriend Flash Thompson, and she was an Avenger.

Well part time Avenger, as you would so eloquently tell her. You were her best superhero friend, the son of Tony Stark; codename - the Iron Knight.

True it was challenging sometimes and yes she did have to reschedule a date or two. But Petra was on top of the world.

How funny that can change. Petra was on her way to class when she saw something that shattered her whole demeanor. She turned a corner to find Flash Thompson making out with Petra’s blonde haired rival Liz Allen.

“Flash?!” Petra found herself practically screaming.

“Petra? It’s not what it looks like” Flash tried to cover.

“It looks like you’re checking tonsils with Liz” Petra turned around and tried to walk away, her heart was torn between angry beyond all belief and just flat out heartbreak.

“I have needs, Parker!” He tried to shout down the hallway towards the young web slinger.

Petra’s eyes were blurring with tears. So many that she didn’t notice the moment she ran into you.

“Yo webhead,” you chuckled, “where’s the fire?”

It was then that you noticed her tears. “Petra? What happened?! Who hurt you?!” You tried to get answers but you didn’t get any. She just ran down the hall and out the front door of the school.

Flash came running down the hallway. He stopped in front of you. Liz was mere feet behind him, smug and sure of herself. You put two and two together

“Have you seen Petra?” Flash tried to ask.

“Come near my best friend again and I’ll make sure your mother’s fired from her job” you shove him away.

“My mother doesn’t work for you,” he argued back.

You hold up your phone with a confirmation of your purchase of her company, “she does now.” And with that you turn and run after your pal, leaving Flash stone faced silent.

You flew all over the city. You couldn’t locate Petra. She wasn’t at the Empire State or the bodega or the top of the school.

You knew there was one last place. You called up Aunt May for confirmation. Petra had swung all the way home and crawled into her bed.

You flew by Stan’s Pizzeria and picked up her favorite pizza before flying off to her apartment.

Aunt May opened the door and gave you a sad smile. “She’s in her room, (Y/N). Thanks for coming over.”

You crept into Petra’s room, her sobs were loud and her porcelain face was red from all the crying.

“Hey bestie,” you whispered as you approached her.

“Hey” she replied halfheartedly. “I’m an idiot”

“How?” You join her on her bed.

“How could I ever believe that superstar Flash Thompson would ever date me? Probably just wanted me to give it to him”

“Full disclosure, guys can be jerks like that” you set the pizza before her.

“Not all guys” she gives you a weak smile, “thanks for the pizza”

You give her a side hug. Petra just about melts into your arms, little sobs escape her lips.

“Didn’t you have a date with Wanda?” She looks at you worried.

“I told her we’d have to delay a little. Besides she still needs to show Vision how to cook. Guy’s a walking Google app and he can’t cook to save his life”

Petra giggles and takes a bite of her delectable pizza treat. She rests against your chest and you wrap your arms around her.

Petra Parker is the incredible Spider Girl. But she’s also your best friend, partner and little did you know - future love of your life.

But as she looked on at the two of you, Aunt May knew. She knew in an instant.

Tags: @lifespectator @multi-fandom-enjoyer @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @henkermen @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @ma1egamer @family-house-of-m @dudesweet17 @jacenradio7 @julieromanoff

[theshinazugawaslut]

Sanemi but he's throwing a tantrum over not getting a kiss all day

Literally lays down on the floor, screaming until he gets a kiss

a/n: i love him so much, i was re-watching that backstory episode of him and genya and I've still not physically recovered. also, sorry for being offline for a bit, I've got tonsillitis and COVID right now :( all what I've written in this drabble also apply to all AU's.

Sanemi is a surprisingly very affectionate man, anybody would look at the temperamental grump and think the opposite but you know far better: the Wind Hashira will become a pathetic, mushy mess if you so much as caress his cheek.

He feels like he doesn't deserve it but your hand is so soft, your eyes sparkle as you look at him and he feels like the sky has rained down stars and blessings onto him.

He's never let anyone get close to him, not a single person, nobody has ever known the feeling of his skin nor how he looks when he cries out as he cums. Only you do, and the thought makes him childishly proud, he's yours — what a fucking honour.

So he doesn't understand why you haven't given him one single kiss the entire day- Hell, you haven't even glanced at him, did he do something wrong?

Have you finally realised he's ugly and really not worth it? Or - this is what Sanemi thinks could be the worst case scenario - did you just not want to give him a kiss today?

He's been trailing behind you like a lost puppy all day, following after you, a small scrunch between his brows.

You're so busy, barely paying him mind, looking stressed yourself. He feels like whining and bawling on the floor just to get your attention. He's more than willing to start shrieking and shovelling dirt into his mouth just to get your attention.

You're doing so much work from the minute you cracked open your pretty eyes — you didn't even give him a morning peck and cuddle, already out the futon when Sanemi awoke (by himself; lonely, sad, cold, depressed, how could you?).

You've been training younger slayers, giving them tips and pointers; making some food for the orphaned kids down the street; sharpened yours and Sanemi's swords; went to go see a few different Hashira since they wanted some help from you, and Sanemi's been right behind you, brooding and pouting.

He's tried to get your attention multiple times, lightly tugging on your sleeve so you look at him but you just give him a gentle squeeze on his thick wrist and a small smile before turning your attention elsewhere (why the fuck do you need to help that Kamado boy?) and then he tries to pepper little kisses against your jaw while you talk to Tomioka (fuck that guy) about your last mission but you gently cover his mouth and give him that look to stop.

He finally loses his patience when you start talking to some random guy at the very front of his estate. He scowls, grabs your delicate wrist, and drags you away.

"'Nemi, my beloved, whatever are you doing-?" you say in that sweet voice of yours.

"You haven't kissed me once today!" he says; it's meant to come out as a growl, as something threatening and angry but it sounds more like an upset whine. "I've been trying to get your attention all day!"

He gives that frown of his, slight pout on his pretty lips.

"Do you want me to bark like a dog, is that it? You want- you want me to rip all my hair out and shriek like a fucking cockroach on the ground? Why haven't I gotten a single kiss? I didn't get my waking-up kiss, not my well-done kiss, not my 'cause-why-not kiss, not a kiss on my hand or my head or my hair even though I-"

He's cut off with being pulled down by his haori to be kissed by you.

Hell yeah.

You're cupping his face, fingers delicately stroking his strong jaw and soft cheeks, lips gently pressing against his, and he sighs softly into your mouth; grabbing at your wrists and holding you there.

When you pull away with a small chuckle, you ask, "There. Does that make up for it?"

"No, I want five more," he says with a sneer but his pink-dusted cheeks and dazed eyes are very telling.

[lsunstreakerl]

What do Gianpiero's children think of Max? Is it more like "this is our father's other son and sometimes our mother's. No, he's not our brother" or more like "Oh, this is my older brother Max, my father found him in the trash and my mother let him stay."

LOL. in "Warning", I give Gianpiero a daughter named Evie. in "Dad- I mean, GP-", I state that he got two Father's Day cards (not counting Max's "max verstappens race engineer day" card)

GP makes a joke in chapter two of "Warning" that "Besides, the missus and I were considering having another kid anyways. It would be good practice", while Alice teases him in chapter three- "Gianpiero, when I said we should have another kid, I meant a baby, hon."

(yes, they took care of max and then went "yes we should have another kid" and now instead of just Evie it's Evie and Anna)

So there are two biological children there! this is consistent across both SH and Darkbull. How the girls feel about their "older brother" is slightly different though.

SH:

- Evie is pretty young when Max stays with GP and Alice in "Warning", so she doesn't remember a time when her parents weren't fondly protective of this random guy much older than her, and neither does Anna. Max visits the family for the occasional holiday (although he does it more often after he retires), so he's more like a distant cousin for them. Alice jokes he's GP's lovechild with Redbull.

- they still like Max, because he buys them whatever they ask him for, and his birthday gifts are the best, but he's not really a brother. they do still think of him as family though.

Darkbull:

- that's their older brother. Max came and lived with them after his tonsils were removed, since the very conveniently timed "accident" Jos had.

- Evie and Anna are spoiled rotten anyways, but whenever they go to Redbull with Max for a day or two it's so much fun for them. They also go on family ski trips, so Max is much more of a fixture in their lives compared to SH.

- he's a very protective older brother. (terrifying statement when you realize how many resources and dangerous people he unknowingly has at his disposal)

- he does stay with them a bit after the kidnapping thing, which turns them into equally protective little sisters (also a terrifying statement, but for totally different reasons)

[shojizbae]

Explorative Operation

Spencer Reid x reader

(takes place during season 6 after JJ leaves) oops spoilers, dw she comes back

Garcia's snooping goes too far, and she ends up unearthing some truths about the new hire. Unfortunately, those truths feel are a little more intimate than you were willing to divulge with the team. Especially details you wouldn't want to spread on a first date.

Spencer had no clue how this happened. Of course, curiosity killed the cat but in this case, this was more like a mixture of hubris and inquisivity slaughtering a lion. A week of preliminary interviews had yielded 3 finalists and, finally, you. Young, stunning, sharp as a tack, and most importantly, hired. After Hotchner had announced to the team for you that you were hired, they sent you home until 8 am tomorrow.

"Baby girl, did you hear that?" Penelope swung her head around and gave her classic doe-eyed look.

"We finally got a new media liaison." The team feels the conflicted stir of relief and grief. Their workloads should be lightened but they missed JJ. It had been a couple of months since she was transferred to the Pentagon, and the team was spread too thin without her.

"Oh (L/n) or Raleigh?"

"Wasn't there three finalists?" Emily corrects

"Yeah, but Rossi said that Kuschner reminded him of his second wife, and we didn't want to relive that relationship." Penelope sipped her coffee with a cheeky look in her eye. "So, who'd they go with?"

"(L/n)." Morgan declares as he puts his hands on his hips

"Ah that's good, she had a nice clean background, good college and she crushed it in the academy." Garcia smiled and innocently clicked off to her office. Morgan and emily shared mischievous glances as Spencer sat oblivious. He held his mug by his jaw and readjusted his hand in his pocket.

"What?"

"Why don't we go learn more about our new Liasion." Emily makes a downward smile, and Morgan stalks over to clap Reid on the back

"We should, gotta know who we're hiring."

Any protests of "Well, it's not technically us who's doing the hiring, but Chief Strauss." Were silenced as Morgan marched Spencer to the hidden office of Penelope Garcia.

"C'mon, pretty boy, no need to argue." Just down a hallway and around the corner the trio stumbles across the neon red curls of Penelope. Emily knocks on the jam of the open door.

"Hey Penny, we've got some questions about this miss ((L/n)."

"Oh, smart ones kneeling at the keeper all pearls of wisdoms in search of the A's to their Q's." Garcia spins around in her chair like a cartoon villain.

"We just want to know some things about this new liaison. You know this wound is still so fresh with JJ being gone and all." Emily plays innocently

"Well, they want this information. I want nothing to do with this sleuthing." Reid shows his palms in surrender and tries to spin around the counter but Morgan grabs him by the back of his sweater,

"Oh, know you don't, pretty boy."

"No," She points her finger in his face. "You can't use JJ as a chip in your nasty snooping."

"We just wanna know if there's anything we should be worried about, mama." Morgan juts out his lip

"You know I can't resist that sexy puppy face." Garcia spins around and flicks up her recent searches on you. A hundred files fly up, including credit car history, hospital visits, and even that dreaded 'permanent record' that every school principal threatens. Shockingly, all that's on it is that you got in a fistfight in seventh grade and served three weeks of after-school detention and a subsequent suspension from your varsity tennis team.

"What's this in her medical history?" Emily points at a page hidden behind a few tabs.

"Uhh, it just shows she had a pretty average childhood; she had her tonsils and adenoids removed at age five after some repeated tonsillitis and bronchitis. She broke her right arm when she was 7 and then her left one when she was 10. And oh god, she gave birth at seventeen, but 8 months prior, she had a rape kit administered." the ream halts a moment.

"Did the case go through?" Spencer questioned

"Yes, she filed suit for statutory a week after her kit and won the case, he went to jail for 6 years." Garcia clicks away

"What about the baby?" Emilys voice wavers

"Oh lord, he died 3 hours after she gave birth." Tears gather in Penelope's eyes. When she did a preliminary background search, most of the information was 'history of mental illness' or 'criminal record', of which she found none.

"Alright, I don't want to do this anymore." She took her hands off the keyboard

"That's alright, baby girl, you've done plenty. Why don't we take lunch?"

The next morning, you arrived before anyone else. All ready to start the day fresh. You even went out of the way to go to the fancy bakery up the street of your new apartment to get treats. You unlocked your office to get familiarized with it but were sent into a spin at the state of it. You spent the following forty minutes refining the filing cabinet, even pushing the desk into a different corner. Human metabolism caught up with you, and you went out to the kitchenette, and even as you started a fresh brew of coffee, you were wiping down the counters and organizing the tea by top notes. It didn't dawn on you that you had an audience. When the small alarm on the machine dinged, you filled your mug and put in a splash of creamer.

"Did you bribe the team with donuts?" you shot out of the refrigerator, ready to pulverize whoever scared you.

"Woah!" a brown-skinned man holds his hands up in surrender. "I just want to thank you. They were delicious. My name is SSA Derek Morgan, I'll be working with you." He holds out a hand, and I shake it bashfully.

"Yeah, I figured I'd attempt to start things off on a sweet note." I force out an awkward giggle but clear my throat. "If you need me, I'll be in my office." I take my coffee and skitter off the small flight of stairs to start raking through the freshly organized files of suspected serial killers. All day, I answer calls and prioritize deaths. For a moment, I ponder whether this job could give me a god complex, and I hope it doesn't. A knock on my door rips me from my trance, and an older Italian man with a lazy eye.

"We're going to meet at the round table. I'm SSA David Rossi." I shoot out of my chair and greet him with a firm handshake.

"Yes, sir, nice to see you again." I follow after him as we round a corner. Bloody photos of three crime scenes are displayed on the TV screen. The team finds it difficult to focus on the gory details as the new girl explains the details of the case. Your outfit isn't outrageous.

A gray pencil skirt with a small slit on the back, a white button down, but you'd rolled up your sleeves, and you wore a sweater. You'd clipped your hair up, but wavy little bits fell and framed your face. You paced around with the remote in hand as your boss divulged more of the science. When they make the decision to leave in an hour, you're the last to leave, but you give friendly smiles to everyone as they file out.

Between departure and arrival, you speak with the local PD to alert them of your arrival. Over the three-hour flight, you watch the team rake all scraps of evidence for a story. Garcia and I rake over misdemeanors in Nebraska to try and grasp a victim pool. As liaison, it's my job to chit-chat with police officers, grieving relatives, and generally anybody. Despite that, Hotch takes the lead as we intersperse our teams.

"And this is our liaison, Agent (Y/n) (L/n); she'll be your access to us." They break down every scrap of information in a way that's less scientific but artful. Instantly, I fell in love with my job. After 90 minutes of questioning, this is what I've gathered.

It's a man, he's impotent because he targets hookers. Apologies, prostitute or lady of the night. Shocking job because it's freezing up in Nebraska, even in April. He feels slight remorse because he poses his victims like a traditional corpse, yet he views them as objects because he leaves them in their underwear. Which seems typical if you're going to see a hooker that she might get naked if you pay her.

Now, we just need to figure out why.

I go with Emily and Seaver to speak with grieving families. We learn bits and pieces of each history. That's how each case went. Your training wrapped up only a few cases later. You decide that since you were given free rein and that the team was really starting to show openness to you it was time you hosted a fun get-together. Wrapping up a case in Florida and touching back down at Quantico at two pm, you ask the team,

"Would you guys like to go get some drinks?" everyone looks hesitant. Grief and tensity underline their features. So you try to fabricate a good night, "I could get some wine coolers and Chinese food." you smile hopefully. Hotchner relents

"I'll come so long as I can bring Jack."

"Alright, are there any foods he prefers ooh or any allergies?" Your excitement cuts you off. Your eyes scan the team and land on Spencer. He's slowly cut his hair shorter and some of the sadness has fallen from his eyes. He purses his lips and puts his hands in his pockets,

"I prefer Thai," he sighs

"Not a problem, there's a Thai place down the road." you punch in the passcode on your Blackberry. "I could call it in now?"

"That's alright. Just send me your address. I'll be there whenever you text." His face heats up, and he slinks off to his desk to file his report with record speed and detail.

"Great. I'll email the team my address, and I'll buzz you up at six," I offer, and Emily nods.

"If there will be wine coolers, I should bring something palatable." Rossi makes his famous little smirk, and Aaron regards him with a knowing smile.

"Ooh, this will be nice, I'll bring some beers. Baby girl are you coming over to (Y/n)'s?" Morgan steals Garcia's attention as she clicks out to greet the team after a job well done

"Oh, that sounds like a hoot and a holler!" She cheers pointedly

Sometime around Eight pm that night, the cheap alcohol had flown, and Aaron was bringing his sober son home. Rossi and Emily were giggling over a real bottle of champagne from France. Morgan was laughing as he finished off his fourth beer and watched Reid desperately writhe under your highly obvious flirting. Your heels had long been kicked off, but you still squirmed around in nylons and a white scoop-neck t-shirt.

"So, Reid, how many degrees do you have?" you held your third wine cooler in your hand, and your other arm was on the leather sofa dangerously close to looping around Spencer's neck. His legs are crossed, and he's still on his first beer, nervous about using any addictive substances.

"Currently, I have six, not counting my high school degree, a BA in psychology and sociology, my doctorate in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering, and recently, I got a BA in philosophy." You have the definition of an ear-to-ear smile.

"That is ridiculously impressive." you practically radiate light as you make the most genuine eye contact and take a sip of your bottle.

"Thank you," he replies curtly

"No, I mean it. You're so far above my metric of impressiveness. Your girlfriend must be a lucky woman."

"What makes you think I have a girlfriend?" He smiles at your classically alcohol-flushed face

"You don't? So I wouldn't be encroaching if I asked you on a date?" It's almost like you halted time and the rotation of oxygen.

"I wouldn't say encroaching, but maybe.."

"Are you against it?" You kind of shift closer to him

"Certainly not. I just don't know if you're familiar with the coworkers dating clause."

"I just signed my contract, I am very familiar. So long as it doesn't impede our ability to collaborate."

"So how about," Slowly, you've shifted closer to him so that you're nearly chest to chest, and he leans backward? " Tomorrow at eight p.m., I'll pick you up, and we'll go get Thai."

"That sounds lovely."

"Perfect." you smile in content and give him some personal space.

Nine am rolls around, and you make your way to the office to prepare for a long day of phone calls and gore. A stabbing in Knoxville that seemed like a gang collision. Some suspicious kills in Annapolis that definitely should be presented, and a murder/suicide in Vegas. You called the meeting, and Hotch decided that the team needs some rest and that they should meet at the jet tomorrow at eight. You spend the rest of your day sorting files and answering emails.

At five, you saunter to Reid's desk and smile at his slightly sweaty face. "I'll see you in three hours." You wink. Once you get in your car, you scream in glee and squeeze the wheel. The next three hours are spent in anxiety. You shower and blow dry your hair, opting to take out your contacts for the night. You decide on jeans, a tank top, and a big UCLA hoodie.

You leave your house at exactly 7:47, so the 13-minute drive will leave you at Reid's doorstep at exactly eight. You find him sitting on his porch step, swinging his hand in front and behind his back until his hands collide. You pull off to the side and roll down the window,

"Get in, loser. We're going shopping!"

"What?" he still jogs up to the window, and you unlock your door for him.

"C'mon, you've never heard of mean girls? Regina George?"

"No, I watch nerdy movies, old classical films."

"That is a classic. Seat belt, please. We'll have to watch it sometime." You put the car in drive and take him into the small 'Chinatown' near your apartment. You two got pad Thai and khao pad and drove to a scenic park to enjoy it. Being all too familiar with Ted Bundy and James Thomas, you lock the doors tight.

"Do you want to keep the radio playing?" Even with the car in park, you keep the car running, so the heat will keep you warm. The radio plays some old Radio Head songs.

"Sure, if you want to." He tears open the brown paper bag. You grab the bar under your seat, push it all the way back, and bring your knees up to your chest. Reid hands you your fried rice, and you get a pair of chopsticks from him. You eat the rice with ease, and Spencer looks at you perplexed. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" you cover your mouth with your hand as you chew

"Eat with those freaking sticks." His anger is overlain with his flummoxed tone.

"I don't know, there's always been a lot of Asian restaurants near me. It's like kids who just know how to play the piano after watching their parents." This launches Spencer into a five-minute speech about inherited talents' pathology. When he finally runs out of breath, he's relieved that you never told him to can it. In fact, you sat there intently, listening to him ramble on about inherent perceptions.

"I've talked a lot, so why don't you tell me something about you?" he fiddles with his fingers as he focuses on you.

"Uh, what to say that's not too weird," you scan over the ceiling of your car as you think out loud, "Uh, in college, I nearly switched my major to film after watching Breakfast at Tiffanies and then buying copies of hundreds of old films."

"Really? What about those old movies that drew you in?" He struggles to get some noodles and you hold back your giggles

"Romance seemed more simple back then. I mean, I'm aware that it was normal and even expected to domestically abuse, but that doesn't mean that Liz Taylor and Marylin Monroe didn't play in some of my favorite movies. I had some shitty exes that thought it was better to be like reality rather than film."

"Is one of them the one that got you pregnant?"

"What? How do you know about that?" It took Spencer far too long to register what had slipped from his mouth. Before he could even begin his explanation with a double side of apologies, you had launched into a rant about men and privacy and why everyone sucked.

"Explain yourself!" you demanded with the same intonation of a banshee

"The team was working on your background check, and we did some further snooping. We found your medical records, and it said you lost your son at 17 years old?" tears had gathered in your eyebags in a way that resembled sweat.

"Why would you stay to dig? Why did you did at all?"

"I would like you to know that it wasn't my idea, although I know you don't care. I just wanted to know more about you."

"And you couldn't just come up and ask about my favorite color or favorite Beatles song?" you raked your hands through your hair.

" I didn't-I," he sighed through his teeth, "I didn't mean to violate your privacy. It was wrong. I shouldn't have done it. If I could take it back, I wouldn't because knowing you're not the perfect Barbie you appear to be gives me the bravery to talk to you. Knowing you're not perfect, it-it forces me to think about you as a human, not just the goddess I perceive." The tears pouring down your face change from anger and betrayal to shock and elation.

No man had treated you with such adoration, not entirely. Most of them buttered you up with words that were so predictable they could be seen as binary code. These words. These words are original and genuine. It never struck you that someone could love you from so little without touching you.

Touch.

You tugged your sleeve up the heel of your palm, wiped your eyes, and then placed your hand on Spencer's forearm. At first, he jumped back from the contact, but he slid his hand into yours slowly.

"That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, ever."

"It's just the truth; in your second case, you said you hate liars." you giggle a little as your tears dry up.

"Would it be too soon to kiss you?" your smile is all shy and crooked

"Only if you say so," he chews on his inner lip but the apprehensive lean in makes your chest lift.