#THAT'S A WHOLE WISH I CAN ADD TO THE COUNTER

[drugsorgasmsandcheese]

trouble, j. miller | chapter one

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: after getting fired from your job at the bookstore, your grandparents introduce you to the man who’s been helping them out for awhile: joel miller. now, it’s his turn to help you.

chapter warnings: reader swears and has dry humour (she’s a bit of me x), mentions of vip’s getting touchy but it’s hypothetical if that makes sense?? reader calls her grandparents ‘pops’ and ‘nonna’, no beta cause i cba, blah blah blah that’s it

also no hate to anyone who reads romance/physical smut books, the hate is simply towards minors who read them & their parents for allowing them LOL

word count: 2518

(series masterlist)

you really don’t know how much longer you can do this.

you’re six hours into your ten hour shift. you’re bored, you haven’t had your lunch break, and your phone is charging behind the desk where you were watching criminal minds before two teenage girls walked into the bookstore.

you’ve watched them for the past twenty minutes. they practically ran to the romance section, picking up books and flicking to certain pages you know had the most pornographic scenes in them before they’d giggle amongst themselves and add it to the pile they were building.

can teenage girls even afford this many books? you had been working since you were sixteen, and you’d barely get enough money to buy yourself two books whilst the rest would be stored away for college. and is this what people were reading nowadays? a male character that exudes toxic masculine standards whilst the author plays into the whole “innocent, virginal” female character who hadn’t the slightest clue about sex or life? is this what parents were allowing their children to-

“we want these books.” a demanding voice speaks to you, and you almost have to do a double take when you see the two teenage girls stood before you at the counter. god, you couldn’t even rely on the younger generation to be polite these days, especially not when one of them is judging you for your oversized hoodie and sweats and the crocs that sit on your feet.

“of course.” you force a smile, biting back on the insults you wish to hurl upon them. but, your boss is in the back. probably doing jackshit like she usually does, leaving you to work your ass off without any breaks.

the scanner scans the barcode on the back of every book before placing them in two bags. dante’s nine circles of hell sounds more appealing than this. you might just grab one of the books and hit yourself with it, hoping you hit so hard you might pass out and get to leave early. not like your boss would allow it, but the thought of having a hot shower and slipping into bed sounded nice.

“and your total is $194.68, is that going to be cash or card?” you rest your hands on the counter, looking at the two girls. one of them whips out a card, so black and matte you almost feel the courage to ask her if: it’s her fathers, and if so, is he single?

you hand her the card machine where she taps the card, and once the payment is deemed successful, one of the girls takes the bag, looks into it and frowns. “these aren’t in the right order.”

“excuse me?”

“the books aren’t in the right order.”

there’s a right order to put books in. none of them were even a series, and even then, does it really matter if your fucking fairy porn trilogy is separated?

“did you ask for them in a certain order?”

the girl gives you a look. “no?”

“so then why would i know what order to put them in?” you’re so done. you’re so fucking done, mentally, physically, and in the eyes of your boss, as well. the girls look at you, mouths agape, probably because they didn’t think they’d be spoken to this way, but you always said that the second a customer is rude to you, you’re being rude back.

the duo scowl at you as they leave the store, muttering insults under their breaths like it was a middle school friendship break up. you sigh, going to turn around to grab your phone when you jump back, spotting your boss leant against the wall.

“you’re fired.” she states.

“yes!” you fist pump the air sarcastically, grabbing your stuff and practically racing out the store. you didn’t even care if you were supposed to wait until the end of your shift to fully leave your job. you were hungry, tired, and your pops and nonna had told you that pops’ infamous burgers would be made for dinner and you were eager.

on your walk home, you listen to your music. it was relatively dark outside, and ideally, as a woman, you shouldn’t be wearing headphones in the dark. but you had always been more frightened by the noises you could hear rather than the ones you couldn’t.

you step into your home, taking your shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen. you stop at the sight. your pops and nonna were stood in the kitchen talking to a man you have never seen before and you’re almost offended that your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to meet him because jesus christ and all things holy, that man is beautiful.

he’s tall. scarily tall, actually. and not to say you have a thing for muscular men but you would not mind letting this stranger throw you about. he leans on the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest as he eyes you up.

“he. who is he?” you point to the man, looking at your grandparents.

your nonna tuts your name. “he is joel miller, helps us out where we need it. why are you home so early, sugar, i thought you had a ten hour shift today?” nonna embraces you, kissing your cheek as she taps your arm, signaling for you to sit down at the kitchen table.

a faux laugh escapes you. “heh, well, you see-”

“don’t tell me that damn boss of yours ‘s been givin’ you a hard time again.” your pops speaks up this time, interrupting you this time. your pops was a scary man. he used to be involved in a lot of shit back in the day, constantly being chased down streets and alleyways by the police, always having them on his doorstep which would cause his mother to scold him. you can’t count the amount of times he’s threatened to come down and give your boss an earful on both hands.

“she actually fired me. apparently addressing one’s stupidity isn’t allowed. however, i am more focused on joel. joel, what is your purpose in this here house?” your head turns to look at the man as he addresses you, and he gives you a small smirk, walking over to the table and sitting across from you.

“she got a mouth on her, don’t she?” he asks your grandparents, and your nonna chuckles.

“always has. only started living with us when she was eighteen because of college, but she’s always had something to say.”

“something that’s gotta be shared with everyone.” your pops adds, and you give him a playful pout.

“right here guys, right here.” you announce. “back to the topic at hand. joel, why have you interrupted my pops’ burger night?” you’re facing each other now, your eyes analysing his face but all he does is smirk and since when was smirking so attractive on a man?

“well, your grandparents here mentioned how you hated your job, and i just so happen to have one that needs filled at one of my clubs.” his texan accent was prominent and full as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “‘s if you want it, of course.”

“what club?”

“apocalypse.”

you slam your hands on the table with a wide grin. “i’m sold. when do i start?”

joel chuckles. “no questions about the pay, the shifts?”

you shake your head. “nope, don’t care. you know how hard that club is to get into?” you turn your head to look at your grandparents. “extremely fucking hard, i’ll tell you that right now. and i’ll get to work in there? god, life is so generous to me sometimes.” you exhale lightly, jokingly.

joel doesn’t stay for your pops’ burgers, but he’s given some to take home anyway. you decide to walk him to the door, being the ever so kind woman that you were, ready to see him off when he stops.

“ya’ start at five p.m. tomorrow, alright? i’ll have someone show you around, get you your uniform ‘nd all that before the club opens.”

nodding your head at joel, you bid him goodbye and watch as he makes his way to a sleek, black porsche, get in, and drive off.

____

“what do you mean you’re working for joel miller?” alicia asks you. alicia was the first friend you made at college after you chewed her ear off for the entirety of your first class. a girl who followed gothic fashion and was an absolute sweetheart compared to the people you’ve known in the past.

“i mean exactly what i said, babe. he’s apparently been looking after my grandparents for awhile and he offered me a job at apocalypse after that old bitch fired me.” you shrug, taking a bite of burger you got from dining hall.

“but joel miller is…he’s dangerous! everyone says his clubs are just money laundering schemes to hide his actual money.” naomi spoke up this time. ever the worrier, she was.

“money laundering would mean that no one was using his clubs and they were just there, naomi. the clubs are exclusive. i mean, we’ve all seen the lines to get in. we’ve been in those lines!” alicia somewhat comes to your defense even though you know she’s fully against you working there.

“my friend tina, the one from the political science class, worked there last year, and she says the pay is amazing!” a woman with black curls approaches your trio, another close friend of yours: georgia. “don’t get me wrong, she said some shady stuff happens in the v.i.p. lounge, but probably just guys gambling or something.”

you embrace georgia. “see, good pay and all i have to do is not ask questions. i’ll be fine, guys. and you,” you look at georgia “need to meet me at our cafe so you can tell me about that little masc lesbian of yours.”

you finish the rest of your burger, and pick up your bag. “gotta get home, but i’ll fill you all when i see you.”

you wave goodbye to your friends, walking out of the building as you scroll on your phone. when you get to the street, you bump into someone, about to apologise until you look up and gasp dramatically. “you! are you stalking me. god, joel, i didn’t know i was worth being stalked. that’s so flattering.”

joel scoffs, and opens the passenger door to his black porsche. “get in. ‘m gonna drive you down to the club.”

“don’t have to tell me twice.” you get into the passenger seat, placing your bag down in between your legs and joel closed your door. he rounds the front, getting in beside you and starts the car.

“ya’ hungry?” he asks, driving away from your college building.

“i ate just before i left. had a cheeseburger. not the most edible thing i’ve ever had, but it worked.”

“if you’re hungry when we get there, i’ll take ya’ down to the kitchen and grab you somethin’ there. house mom might have some snacks for ya’ too.”

brows furrowed, you turn to look at him. “the fuck is a house mom?”

“older woman who works with the dancers, takes care of ‘em in between dances. she’ll have snacks, spare outfits or shoes, hygiene products. helps ‘em all like a mom would.”

“nice.” you nod your head, and soon you’re in the private parking lot for the club. joel gets out first, rounding to your side and opening the door up for you. “gotta love a southern gentleman.” you snicker, walking into the club behind him.

he walks up a set of marbled stairs, heading to the second floor. “you’ll be working in the v.i.p. lounge, ‘s where all the dancers are and most of our staff.”

the second floor of the club is lit with red led lights, creating a sultry atmosphere. there are private rooms scattered all around, but there are booths scattered in the middle. joel walks you down to a hidden room and opens the door.

“this is my office. you can put your shit in here.” you walk in and place your bag down on the cushioned sofa, taking a seat beside your belongings. “i’m here when i’m not in the booths doing business, but if anything happens out there, ya’ come and find me, alright?”

you nod your head at him.

“all v.i.p’s know dancers and staff aren’t to be touched, but you gotta promise you’ll come find me if that rule is broken.” after promising, he continues. “i’ll take you down to adele and see if she’s got any spare uniform for you. she’ll walk you through anything else.”

joel guides you down the haul with a hand on your lower back, and if there was a camera following you, you would’ve hand an office moment with this simple touch.

“momma!” joel yells, knocking on a pink door.

the door opens, and an african-american woman opens it. she looks at joel, then you, and embraces you in a tight hug. “welcome, baby. this the new girl we’ve been hearing about?”

“yes ma’am!” you answer before joel can, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

joel speaks your name, and your eyes meet his. “go inside while i talk to adele, she’ll be back to help you in a minute.”

as you step inside the room, you’re met with an abundance of dancers. some are singing, doing their hair and make up, zipping up their heels, and others are lay on sat around eating some snacks.

“hi guys!” you wave at everyone, and they all squeal when they see you, immediately asking questions.

you answer them as best as you can until adele comes in. “now, i gotta get her some heels and her uniform, and when i come back-” adele glances around the room, pointing at an east asian woman with pin straight black hair. “lucy, do her make up, just so she knows what the standard is. your hair is fine, baby, don’t need anyone touching that.”

lucy smiles and waves at you, and you return it as adele leads you into the changing rooms. “uniforms are simple. black shorts, black long sleeve, and…what size shoe are you, baby?”

you respond, and she goes over to a rack of black, leather heeled boots. they’re platformed, shiny, and you know your feet are going to hurt the second your shift is done. “and these. i’ll let you get changed and you just come straight out when you’re done. help yourself to some snacks as well.”

“i don’t have to pay you for them?”

adele chuckles. “no, baby. joel gives me the money to buy the snacks. anything for you girls, joel pays for.” and with that, she leaves the room.

you sigh, looking at the mirror in front of you. this was a new job, with a hot boss, and from what you could tell, the rest of the girls in there were lovely.

this was your life now.

____

a/n: first chapter mother fuckers let’s GOOOOO

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[kinardgo]

Jee having fun with her uncles Buck & Tommy!

Maybe Buck feeling a little 🥰😍 watching Tommy being in 'competent dad mode', even though he's not ready for their own 😂

okay this is everything actually if season 8 doesn't give us tommy playing with jee and buck noticably ovulating across the room i will riot

bucktommy / rated g / mild warning for non serious accidental injury to a child

-

"-and take a nice, deep breath for me. This is going to sting a little, okay?"

It takes a few seconds for Buck's brain to come back online as he re-enters his apartment. It's been a quiet day so far, as quiet as any day off looking after his curious, hyperactive niece can be. They'd watched some TV, leaving some irritating cartoon pop song ingrained in his head, probably for the next week at least. Had some lunch. Afterwards, Jee-Yun had proclaimed her desire for ice cream with all the certainty of a biblical saint. Buck, a little soft hearted from an easy day surrounded by people he loves, agreed to go to the shop in search of some.

Maybe it's lulled him into a false sense of security, because he stares at the scene in his kitchen with a blank expression for a full three seconds before he galvanizes into action.

Jee's up on the kitchen counter, a little teary eyed, her bottom lip wobbling, blood trickling down her skinny calf.

"Woah, woah, hey," he says, rushing to Tommy's side, where he's crouched in front of the counter, "What happened?"

"Someone," he says, eyeing the slightly sheepish looking girl, "decided to ignore me when I said running full pelt around the place would end in tears."

"I'm sorry, Tommy," Jee says, her voice shaking.

"It's okay, chica. You're not in trouble. Tripped over the rug," he adds lowly to Buck, "Limbs everywhere, slid five feet, the whole ten yards."

Now he's a little closer up, he can see that. Her knee is all scraped up, a messy graze, but nothing deep. There's a little mark on her elbow, but no blood. Kids bounce, Hen once told him. Buck kinda wishes Jee would stop trying to test that theory out on him though.

"Now, stay nice and still while I get this cleaned up, okay sweetheart?" Tommy eases, turning his attention back to Jee, the full effect of his Cool And Unphased Firefighter Pilot shtick aimed at a tiny little person who doesn't even have a fully developed concept of consequence yet. It feels unfair. Buck's a whole ass adult and it's enough to make him spacy, "Do you know what this is?"

Jee looks from the antibacterial wipe in his hand, to Buck, and back to Tommy nervously, "No."

"This is a special kind of cloth that can get all the yucky stuff out of your cut, get it nice and clean."

"Like soap?"

"Kinda like soap, yeah," he nods, smiling, "It's gonna hurt a little bit, but that's how you know it's working. Ready?"

She nods, hands fisting in the skirt of her pink dress anxiously. Tommy swipes over the graze of her cut quickly and gently, efficient but effective.

"Brave girl, Jee," Buck murmers, rubbing a hand soothingly up her arm.

"Yes, she is," Tommy agrees, "Now, I'm going to put a plaster on this. Hold still for me-" She holds herself dutifully, solid like a rock, as Tommy smooths the dressing over the knee. It's probably overkill, but Buck knows that the power of belief in healing is almost as important as the actual healing bit.

"You did so good, Jee," Buck says, straightening up to plant a kiss in her hair. She giggles, grasping at him with her pudgy hands, "And so did you," he says, kissing him on the cheek. Jee shrieks with laughter the way she always does when Buck dares to show any kind of affection to anyone but her.

"Now, you," Tommy says, sweeping Jee off the counter, "Get settled on the couch, because it looks like your Uncle Evan got some cookie dough vanilla that's got your name all over it, kid."

Jee's face splits with a grin so wide it looks like it might hurt, then throws her arms around Tommy's neck, burrowing her face in his shoulder with a happy little sound, "Thank you, Uncle Tommy," The words are muffled into the collar of his shirt, but Tommy clearly hears loud and clear if the way his face scrunches up in delight is any indication.

Something heavy and dense swoops straight through the middle of Buck's core, through his chest and out through his stomach. Too much, too fast, too soon. Tommy gives Jee a final squeeze, swaying her a little so her tiny legs flop around, giggling happily until he puts her back down.

Jee cuddles up with a pillow on the couch, something that looks like elves on an acid trip playing on the TV while Tommy washes his hands and puts the first aid kit back in the cupboard and Buck gets three bowls of cookie dough ready for a good ol' fashioned sugar binge.

"She adores you."

Tommy looks up, even as Buck keeps his eyes resolutely on the ice cream.

"She's got a big heart," he says fondly, before adding, "Must be a Buckley family trait."

"She's a good kid," Buck grins, turning to look over at Jee, hugging one of the sofa cusions to her chest, so big against her that she can rest her chin on it.

"Yeah. Do you want kids?"

The ice cream scoop skids across the counter out of Buck's hand when he jerks in surprise.

Tommy laughs quietly, ducking his head to kiss his shoulder, "Not right now, Evan. Just... curious. You're good with her."

"So are you," he fires back. He knows he's being stupid, that he's acting defensive, and he doesn't even know what about. Jesus, he sucks when someone catches him off guard, "Do you want kids?"

It doesn't look like it bothers Tommy, who just grins like he knows better than to take Buck's knee-jerk panic personally. Probably because he does.

"Yeah. One day."

Buck can't help smiling back, "Yeah. One day."

They all squeeze onto the couch, Jee tucked in between them with enough sugar shovelling into her mouth for Maddie to have reasonable justification to murder him later. It's probably not how he would have described his ideal afternoon, but he can't find fault in it.

[hyuckwrlds]

>> knowing you

wc: 461 i wish i got to love you longer

“When we were fourteen, Haechan put a cicada in my hair and blamed it on Jaemin.”

“What?” you laugh, looking at Jeno from where you’re standing beside the stove. “So he’s always been like that?”

“To an extent,” he grins, turning away from the opened window to lean against the counter next to you. The scent of your body wash hangs around him and you wonder how long he's been using yours instead of his. “I think he’s worse now, actually.”

In the distance, a cicada chrips and you stir the boiling pot of ramen, musing. You could’ve sworn you took an egg out for Jeno earlier but you can’t seem to find it now.

“When I was fourteen, I told my crush I liked him and had a piece of broccoli stuck in my braces the whole time.”

He winces, taking a sip from his store-bought bottle of lemon tea. “Rough. What’d he say?”

“He rejected me on the spot.”

Jeno clicks his tongue. “His loss. I would’ve loved to get a confession from you like that.”

The thought makes you snort. “I dunno, I was kind of a mess at fourteen—”

“Who wasn’t?”

“You,” you say pointedly, waving your chopsticks at him. “I’ve seen the pictures.”

He snickers, folding his arms across the front of his old Nike sweatshirt. The collar is slightly damp from his still-wet hair. “That doesn't mean anything. I was weird at fourteen too.”

“You didn’t have neon green braces and a stupid haircut that you cut yourself.”

“No, but I had a bowl cut and wire glasses," he adds, with a tilt of his head. “I think that’s pretty comparable.”

“Still...” you roll your eyes. A breeze drifts in through the window and when you look over at him, your heart softens. Even in his pajamas he’s still so attractive that briefly, you think about what it would have been like to know him back then, too.

“I think I would’ve been terrified to talk to you when we were fourteen.”

“Why?” he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. When you don’t immediately reply, he takes your forearm to pull you into him, holding you to where all you can feel is him. Only him.

He hums. “I would’ve loved you, you know. Even with broccoli in your teeth.”

Groaning, you tuck your head beneath his chin and press your cheek to the muscle of his chest. You don’t fight him (mainly because he's warm against the night air) but make it a point to pout nonetheless.

“That’s a very bold statement you're making, babe.”

“’m serious, though,” he starts, lips brushing against your hairline before he’s pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“I think I’d love you in every timeline.”

[steddie-there]

Eddie notices it first at Dairy Queen.

It's the first time since leaving the hospital that he's been somewhere with the whole party that isn't Steve's house or the Hoppers-Byers cabin. The younger children crowd the counter, talking over each other as they count their money and decide what to get, while the older teens and adults hang at the back, looking at the menu. Then Erica steps over to Steve and says something Eddie can't quite make out. He nods, winds his way through the gremlins, and places his order. When his name is called, he picks up two cups of ice cream and hands one to Erica, who takes it with a smirk and a comment Eddie can't make out, although it has Steve laughing and shoving playfully at her shoulder.

Eddie turns then to look at the other kids but none of them even seem to notice that Steve has seemingly paid for Erica and not them. It's confusing because Eddie is sure Henderson, at least, would be kicking up a fuss about it. Not even Robin says anything.

But, then again, maybe Steve owes Erica money. Or he lost a bet. Eddie is aware how fierce the younger Sinclair is in collecting on her debts, having made the mistake once and once only of asking her to buy him a soda. So, if no one else is bothered, neither is he. He shrugs and enjoys his sundae.

But then it happens again the next week at Baskin Robbins.

And again two weeks later.

When the last ice cream truck left in Hawkins comes through Steve's neighborhood and the only one to get anything is Erica - at Steve's expense, of course - and the other kids don't even grumble beyond wishing they hadn't blown all their allowance at the arcade, Eddie decides he's had enough.

"Okay, what is it with this ice cream thing???" he bursts out as they all settle back down next to the pool.

The burble of conversation stops as everyone turns to look at him, then glance around at each other.

"What ice cream thing?" Mike finally asks, genuinely confused.

"What ice cream... the ice cream thing!" Eddie splutters. "The thing where Steve always buys Erica ice cream and none of the rest of you munchkins seem to care!"

There's a collective ohhhh of understanding, but Eddie is still completely in the dark. He gestures for someone to explain.

"It's because of Operation Child Endangerment," Dustin answers, casual, like it's a normal, non-question-inducing answer.

Eddie scrunches his brows together and lets out a confused bubble of sound at the same time that Steve buries his face in his hands and groans, "I thought we agreed not to call it that."

Erica laughs and wags her finger at him. "Uh, no. Just because you demanded we change it doesn't mean we agreed to."

"...little lost here. What's Operation Child Endangerment?" Eddie asks, glancing sideways at Steve. He can see, between his fingers, that the other boy's face has gone bright red.

Steve groans again and sinks forward to let his head hang by his knees.

And so Eddie finds out everything about the summer of '85 and Starcourt mall. He already knew the basics, but he's still fascinated. Horrified. Impressed.

He watches Steve through the whole retelling, jumbled as it is by the kids all interrupting each other to add something they thought was being forgotten, and feels his heart ache inside his chest for the beautiful boy across from him. Watches him hunch his shoulders when Erica explains the deal they made, the one that's got her free ice cream for life. Watches him puff up a little with pride when Dustin describes him knocking the Russian comms operator out cold. Watches him squeeze Robin's hand when she mentions the Russian torture and drugs. Watches him tug El into a hug when Jonathan talks about having to cut into her leg.

Eddie watches Steve - brave, loyal, loving Steve, who won't break a promise or a deal even after he most certainly could - laughing with their friends, taking their ribbing and teasing them in return, ruffling Dustin's hair and splashing Erica, almost starting a party-wide splash fight.

Eddie waits until everyone is distracted by Max chasing Lucas across the pool after his cannonball knocked her from her floaty, various advice being shouted to both, then moves to sit next to Steve on his pool chair.

"That was, uh, a lot," he says quietly.

Steve bites his lip, turns a little away from the chaos in and around the pool, although his eyes still track the chase, Max having almost cornered Lucas. "Yeah, yeah it was," he replies, just as quietly.

"Pretty impressive," Eddie tells him, knocking their shoulders together.

Steve shrugs. He snorts as Max finally catches Lucas and dunks him a couple times before they both dissolve into laughter.

Eddie bumps his shoulder again. "Seriously, dude, you gotta know how cool you are."

"I guess," Steve says, still not looking at Eddie, fidgeting with his hands instead.

Eddie thinks he knows what thoughts might be running around inside Steve's head, so he puts a hand over Steve's. The jittery motions still under his touch. "Hey, you got them out of there. You didn't know what you were walking into and you all got out alive. I call that pretty badass."

Steve finally turns to him. The look in his eyes makes Eddie want to pull Steve close, hold him until that look disappears. But he doesn't, just squeezes Steve's fingers.

The corner of Steve's mouth ticks up, just a little. "Thanks, Eddie." He looks like he might say more, but suddenly Dustin lets out a whoop and they both turn to the pool. Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, and Argyle have started a game of chicken, Nancy on Jonathan's shoulders and Robin on Argyle's.

They watch, laughing, as the girls wrestle until they both go tumbling into the water together and come up spluttering. Steve's head is thrown back, his shoulders are shaking with giggles and Eddie feels a grin stretch across his face.

He leans forward to rest his chin on Steve's shoulder, his hand still over Steve's, a teasing tone in his voice when he says, "So, hey, I was wondering. What would it take for me to get free ice cream for life from Steve Harrington?"

Steve turns his head and Eddie pulls back so they can look at each other. And that's all they do for a long moment, Eddie's breathing speeding up when Steve's gaze drops to his lips.

But all Steve does is turn his hand in Eddie's grip, so he can tangle their fingers together. He squeezes Eddie's hand, then stands, grinning, tugging Eddie up with him.

"C'mon," Steve says, pulling Eddie over to the pool before jumping in with a splash. Eddie ducks away from the water, grinning like a fool. When he catches Erica's knowing smirk, he just shrugs helplessly and follows Steve in.

Maybe he owes Erica some free ice cream, too.

[grandlinedreams]

Notes: we're so back, baby. October poured a whole soup can of horny into my brain, I'm literally just dumped names into a randomizer, so eat up @caffrey-coffee and @shadowleaf10 it's ya boy

Kinktober Day 2: Mutual Masturbation; Dick Grayson

Warnings: MNDI, mutual masturbation, reader is gender neutral, Dick has a mouth on him wbk

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

"You could have said no," comes the counter, amused as your boyfriend rearranges things with the rustle of sheets and soft creak of bedsprings. "You agreed to this."

"Because I miss you," you mumble, and Dick's expression softens, baby blues made softer for the dim glow of his room. Where he is, you have no idea -- he couldn't say. Wouldn't say, for his safety and yours.

"I miss you too," he says, and because he's, well, him, his eyes flick over you shamelessly as he adds, "all of you."

Your eyes roll. "I can hang up--"

"I'll behave, I promise!" There's a glint to his eyes. "For now." He pauses for a moment, then swallows. "Can I tell you about a dream I had?"

It's a little bit of an awkward segway, but you allow it as you shift your own positioning. Any other time, this would be weird as all hell-- but any other time, Dick would actually be with you, and not on an assignment from the Bat himself.

Dick waits until you're both comfortable before he starts talking again. "It was a good dream," he says. "We both had the whole day to ourselves. I got to keep you in bed for a good while. Then the shower, the bedroom again, the kitchen..."

You shiver at the image that he's beginning to paint, the deliberate skim of your hand over your bare chest, your abdomen. Soft skin, warm and plush, flushed as you drop your hand lower. "Was I good for you?"

"Very." There's a quiet huff, the little edge to his voice that you know means he's already touching himself. "Let me fill you up as much as I wanted, till I was dripping out of you."

Your hips twitch, and you hiss at the first contact of your fingers to heated flesh. Dick has gone quiet for a moment before he groans.

"Wish that were my hand instead of yours."

"Me too," you offer breathlessly, fingers working the way you know gets you riled up faster. "When you get back, maybe -- ah -- maybe we can put that little fantasy into reality, hm?"

A hushed curse, the unmistakable slick, sticky sound of his hand moving, matching your own. "Gonna hold you to it. Make sure you can't walk for days."

The next couple of moments are broken by staccato breathing, whines, and bitten off groans. "You always feel better around me than my own hand," Dick pants. "Especially when you squeeze around me and make that noise, you know the one--"

Your back arches, garbled noise pitching a little higher, needier-- and Dick moans.

"That one. Gonna have to record it someday, I swear."

It's Dick who comes first as you lock onto him from the computer you've nestled on your bed, expression contorting as he grunts, bucking into his hand -- and then spilling over his fingers in pretty pearlescent spurts. You follow a moment later, aware that Dick is still watching, cheeks flush and chest heaving.

"That's an expression I miss a lot too," he says as you come down, and he has the audacity to smirk when you stare. "What? Being honest."

"Pervert."

"How is it perversion when you're mine anyways?" He asks, but his expression softens. "I just miss you. A lot."

Your heart stutters. "I miss you too." There's a little quiet lapse as you both clean up, clothes tugged back into place before you curl up in bed to stare at him for a little longer. "Gonna dream of you."

This time, there isn't a smirk or a lewd comment, but the soft affection reserved just for you. "Me too, angel."

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Chapter XIV. Wither.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 2.2k

chapter summary: as the volcano errupts, some things must come to an end before the ship can set sail.

warnings: a character gets punched, brief mentions of blood, angsty

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

🖤 Black dahlia - pain and sorrow.

When Hyunjin had woken up the morning after arriving to the city, at first he was confused.

His hands automatically searched for you, reaching around his king sized bed only for it to be empty.

Then, it dawned on him, he was 'home', if he could even call it that. Deep inside his heart, he knows home is where you are.

Hyunjin unpacks the paintings he brought, the flowers with all the symbolisms you had taught him and your beautiful figure in many shapes and poses he admired.

He smiles at the thought of you, wishing you were here with him to make his cold apartment warmer.

As he looks around, he can't even connect his current self to his past one, the rich famous artist who spent thousands of dollars on furniture only; the modern apartment is gray and depressing, a complete opposite of your sunlit house full of colorful flowers, art and knick-knacks, a place that is lived in unlike this toneless place.

Charlie arrives to his apartment at 10am sharp.

"Look who decided to fucking show up."- Charlie says, but still wears a grin on his face.

"Me."- Hyunjin shrugs with a small smile, knowing Charlie is probably pissed at him but he has always been good with keeping his emotions at bay; otherwise he wouldn't be able to do the work he does.

"I should beat you up right now, but your face is too pretty so I don't wanna ruin that."- his manager shakes his head. "But, don't ever pull this shit again."- he adds menacingly.

"I have new material."- Hyunjin ignores the threat, his guess was right.

"You do know that almost everything sold out in your gallery? I had to pull some of your older paintings out of my ass. People have been asking about you."

"Yeah, what people?"- Hyunjin scoffs. "People who don't even know shit about me."

"Listen, I don't know what kind of spiritual awakening you had wherever you ran off to, and honestly I don't care. All I need is for you to be back for good and run your own gallery, Hyunjin. It's your responsibility and you left it to me. You have certain duties, you're under a contract, might I add."

"Will you stop talking for a fucking second?"- Hyunjin's face turns into a scowl and Charlie's lips part in surprise.

"Let me say one goddamn thing without interrupting me. I know I left all of my responsibilities to you and I'm sorry about that. I admit it wasn't the best move. But, I'm glad I took a break because I have found my love for art again, I have a whole new collection of paintings for an exhibition I would like to dedicate to someone important to me."- Hyunjin says.

"Okay, let's see them."- Charlie shrugs.

"After this though, I don't want to work with you anymore."- Hyunjin shakes his head.

"What?"- Charlie looks shocked.

"I'm moving. And I want to have someone who can tend to my gallery when I'm not here, but that someone needs to be someone I can trust."

"I thought we were friends."

"What kind of friends are we, Charlie? You don't really care about me at all, let's face it."- Hyunjin says. "Let's not make this dramatic."- he adds quickly as he starts unwraping the paintings.

He can see that Charlie is seething but in this moment he doesn't care, all he wants to do is get everything done as quickly as possible so he can come back to you soon.

"We'll see about that, Hwang."- Charlie says coldly as Hyunjin lays the paintings down on the counter.

"Here."- he says, ignoring Charlie's threats again.

Charlie leans over them and inspects them.

Suddenly, he starts laughing and Hyunjin looks at him confusedly.

"What the fuck is this, Hyunjin?"- he asks.

"W-what do you mean?"

"This is such a downgrade from what you usually do. This is like a child's painting, not a professional's. Aren't you supposed to be a professional artist, hm?"

Hyunjin hears his mother through Charlie's venomous words.

"What am I supposed to do with these? For fucks sake, you've been gone for months and this is the shit you came back with? Some flowers and some random girl?"

"Don't call her a random girl. She's not just a random girl."- Hyunjin's blood boils.

"I don't care who she is. I can't sell these. This doesn't belong in the museum. You have ruined everything. Have you fallen in love, is that it? You know that's just a bunch of crap, you can't trust women. All they want is your money."- Charlie is getting angrier.

"Like you do?"- Hyunjin spits out, the anger he buried deep inside him bubbling up, all the years of listening to his mother yelling insults at him are culminating and the volcano that is his heart is about to burst and overflow, burning everything in its wake.

"I'm your manager for fucks sake! This is my job! I can't do shit with these! These won't make us any money, Hyunjin. Do better."

Do better. Do better. Do better.

His mother's voice echoes inside his head, needles pricking the skin where it hurts the most, digging up old wounds with sharp nails.

Hyunjin doesn't even realize what he's doing but his fist clenches and he lifts it up, his knuckles colliding with Charlie's face.

It's nothing like the movies, it doesn't make you feel better, only makes the beast called rage grow bigger inside him, his hand throbs with pain, his skin red.

There's an uncomfortable crack that he heard when he hit Charlie's face and his manager gasps, hand flying to his nose to catch the drops of blood that started flowing out of his nostrils.

Hyunjin has no idea what came over him, it all happened in what seems less than a second and he knows he's a lover, not a fighter, regret and disappointment in his own actions overflow him instantly.

"For this, I will see you in court, Hwang Hyunjin."- Charlie waves his finger, pressing the sleeve on his other arm to his nose.

He spits on the floor next to Hyunjin's shoe and turns around quickly, leaving the apartment with hurried steps, his shoulders tensed in anger.

Hyunjin had gotten himself in trouble, and his career was now at stake.

He had immediately found the best lawyer he could, the battle he was going into with his now ex manager, was going to be a huge one.

He's not sure if it was Charlie, but his number got leaked to the media, resulting in so much harassment that he had to go out and change it.

The only light in Hyunjin's life was the letter he had received from you.

The only thing that kept him going was the thought of going back to you, to your warm love that made him grow and that made his heart blossom.

As he held the paper in his hands and read it, tears formed in his eyes, a smile on his face creating a rainbow of feelings he only had for you.

Hyunjin cherished the letter more than any expensive thing he ever owned as there wasn't a price he could put on your love.

He kept it together with the sketchbook you have filled together, memories of the island and the day Luna was drawing with you filling the papers, and between the colorful pages a withered petal of a red gardenia, one that got stuck in your hair, one that Hyunjin had kept in a moment he wished he could taste your lips.

So, with a pen in his hand he sat down and looked at the foggy city before him, and began to write a letter for you.

My beautiful muse,

you've no idea how much I miss you. A piece of you may have left with me, but my whole heart stayed on the island with you. I wish I could see our petunias blossom and paint them together with you, but I can't. I'll try to be back as soon as possible. The city isn't treating me too well, I have some things I need to take care of and it is exhausting. Not having you next to me is making it even harder. I need your love and support more than ever. I will tell you everything once I come back, do not worry about me, my love.

And you should put up the paintings, they will go nicely with your other decor. Looking forward to seeing that.

I'm thinking of you and your embrace every day too.

I love you more than you can imagine.

Forever yours, Hyunjin.

The letter traveled all the way to the hands of the ship's crew member, tucked into his jacket pocket.

The man had taken his jacket off, putting it aside and forgetting about it as the wind started wilding, the faster the ship sailed, picking the letter up and whirling it in the air until it landed into the blue sea, to be forgotten and never to arrive where it was supposed to.

Hyunjin's days were long and exhausting, the debates he had with his lawyer were mind-numbing and tiring to his soul.

Charlie tried every possible slimy way to bring Hyunjin down, trying to make up scandals where there were none, trying to dig up secrets that never existed, trying to scratch at wounds Hyunjin thought had healed.

Hyunjin felt worn out, and you never answering to his letter got him worried at first.

He was scared that something had happened to you, but he didn't want his mind to go to dark places immediately.

As the days went by, Hyunjin couldn't help but feel progressively more sad and hopeless.

There was no rest for him as everything rained down on him, his manager, the constant back and forth, the media harassing him to the point he had to close his gallery for the time being, scared that he would never be able to reopen it.

Rumours were going around tainting his name and Hyunjin wished you had reached out to him.

He wished you were there, with your sweet smile, your kind hands, your loving heart, your saccharine kisses.

But, as the summer was coming to an end and he has never heard back from you, his heart started to wither even worse than before he had felt your love.

Had you stopped loving him? The thought of losing you broke his heart into pieces, the emptiness threatening to consume him.

Life had no meaning if he didn't have you in it.

And as he finally managed to win with only a minor amount of money he had to pay to Charlie, and he was free of the rumours, the media found someone else to torture and make their victim, leaving Hyunjin alone, he felt part of the weight lift off of his shoulders.

He opened up his gallery with the intention he had before, to tell your love story through his paintings, even though his heart was heavy, filled with doubt and fear.

When the dust completely settled, Hyunjin tried calling Isaac's house but Isaac never answered.

He knew that Isaac would contact him any way he could, so there was definitely something going on, Hyunjin could feel it.

And he got his confirmation when a letter had arrived to his new studio apartment.

At first, his heart leaped out of his chest when he saw it was coming from the island, thinking you had finally answered him.

He ripped it open only to find out that Isaac has died and has left his estate to Hyunjin.

Sitting in shock, Hyunjin couldn't even cry.

And while he packed his suitcase, he wondered what will await for him when he arrives there.

But, there was one more thing Hyunjin had to do before leaving the city behind.

He picked his phone up, dialing the number of his mother's phone, the house he grew up in but could never call a home.

"Hello?"- she picks up with an indifferent voice.

"It's me, Hyunjin."

"Oh, Hyunjin!"- she says, her voice becoming a little squeaky. "How's it going?"

"Look, there is something I have to say."- Hyunjin swallows, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him.

"Yes?"

"I forgive you."- he lets out a shaky breath. "For every time you put me down and made me feel worthless. For every time you made me cry and called me good for nothing. For never being a good mother, never telling me you love me or holding me close. I forgive you."- a weight slowly lifts off of his chest, as hot tears race down his warm cheeks.

He hears an inhale and then a scoff.

"I don't need your forgiveness. I did what I had to do."- cold to the very end, it's like his mother hadn't even listened to a word he said.

"Me too, mother. Goodbye."- Hyunjin hangs up before she can retaliate, letting himself cry for a few more moments before he gathers all his courage and leaves with his suitcase behind him.

Once again, stepping foot on the faithful ship that had brought him to you, a turmoil of emotions inside him now where once he was numb, fear being the most prominent emotion that reflects in the sea around him.

Fear that you have moved on, and that he has no one left in this world who would truly love him.

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @lemonadeboun @eastjonowhere

[thescarletnargacuga]

Human!Caine trying to bathe puppy!Bubble! (You can make it showtime, if you wish lol)

A/N: AWWWWWW!!!

BATH TIME

A HUMAN!SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: none! Just slice of life domestic fluff

~~~

"Come on, Bubble! Work with me here!" Caine struggled to get his medium sized, mud covered mutt through the bathroom door. "Alright, you've forced my hand. Come here!" He picked up Bubble, smearing mud down the front of his shirt.

Bubble braces his front paws against the doorframe in defiance.

Pomni giggles from behind her phone, recording her husband trying to give their dog a bath. "Why didn't you hose him down out back first?"

"Because he wouldn't stop eating the water." Caine tried maneuvering Bubble through the narrow threshold without getting too many marks on the walls. "Are you going to stand there laughing the whole time or are you going to help?"

"Hmmmmm, I think you've got this."

Caine playfully glared at his wife as he finally got Bubble through the door. Pomni came in behind him and shut the door. The tub was already running with warm water, dog shampoo bottles at the ready.

Caine set Bubble down inside the tub. "Come on, boy. You love water. You'll be fine."

Bubble immediately tried to get out, whining. Caine put an arm around Bubble, preventing escape. Bubble looked to Pomni with sad puppy eyes.

"You're okay, buddy. Daddy's gonna clean you up." Pomni spoke in a soothing voice to calm the pup. "How did he end up like this anyway?"

Caine used the shower extension to start rinsing the mud out of Bubble's fur. "It rained last night and he found every mud puddle at the dog park."

"Aw, buddy. Did you have fun?" Pomni kneeled down to record Bubble's adorable face.

Bubble wagged his tail and tried to lick the phone.

"He had so much fun, he didn't want to leave. If you think getting him into the bathroom was difficult, you should have seen me trying to get him in the car." Caine chuckled, then realized. "Uh... Don't use the car anytime soon."

Pomni laughed. "It's that bad?"

"The backseat...the front..."

"What?" Pomni continued to laugh.

Caine grinned. "The steering wheel....the roof..."

"Oh my god!" Pomni almost dropped her phone in the tub from laughing.

"Yeah, I get to add car detailing to my to-do list." Caine took off Bubble's collar and hung it over the edge of the tub before grabbing a bottle of doggy shampoo.

"I'll help you with that. It's needed in deep cleaning anyway." Pomni kept a hand on Bubble so he wouldn't be tempted to jump out.

Bubble shook, sending muddy water everywhere.

"Ah!" Pomni trying ducking below the tub to get out of the line of fire. It didn't help much. She still got dirty dog water in her hair and on her back.

Caine just sat there on his knees and took it as he poured shampoo in his hand. "And now the bathroom too. Looks like today's going to be a cleaning day." He massaged the shampoo into Bubble's fur, getting him all lathered up.

Pomni grabbed a hand towel and dabbed the water off of Caine's face.

"Thank you, dear." Caine smiled.

Pomni gave Caine a kiss on the cheek. "You're welcome." Bubble whined and tried licking Pomni. Pomni pushed him back. "Nooo, not yet. You're all soapy."

Bubble have a small bark and shook again. Suds covered the couple, as well as the counter and mirror behind them.

Caine spat away suds covering his mouth. "Forget the car, I need a bath now."

"I think Bubble is already obliging." Pomni put her phone away to protect it from further spray and helped keep Bubble still as he was rinsed.

Bubble shook twice more through the rinse cycle, drenching his human caretakers. He jumped out of the tub when they finally let go of him.

Pomni grabbed to towels. One for Caine, and the other she used to dry Bubble. "Who's a good boy? Yeah, you were so good." Pomni praised as she toweled him down.

Bubble excitedly wagged his tail and wiggled under the towel, panting happily.

"Yeah, you're a good boy that deserves a treat for taking a bath." Pomni clicked Bubble's collar back on and opened the bathroom door.

Bubble zoomed out, rubbing himself against the floor and furniture.

Caine stood, drying his hair. "That went surprisingly well. Remember the first bath we ever tried to give him?"

"When we first found him in our garbage bin? Poor thing probably thought it was the end of the world. Now, look at him. Our Bubble-headed boy is just enjoying life." Pomni watched Bubble roll around on the carpet.

Caine put his towel down, his red hair all disheveled. "As all dogs should. Now..." He hugged Pomni from behind. "I don't know about you, but I smell like wet dog. Care to join me for a shower?"

Pomni leaned into him. "I don't know...you always make it so hard to get clean." She smirked.

"What can I say, I'm a happily married man." Caine kissed her cheek.

Bubble bolted out the dog door to the backyard. At first, Caine and Pomni didn't think much of it. "Wait..." Pomni said. "Didn't you say it rained last night?"

"Yeah...oh no!" Caine and Pomni ran to the back door, watching in horror as their best boy dove right into a giant puddle.

[nanaminokanojo]

BAD NEWS (part 61)

-just when you thought you were over your humongous crush on your older brother’s best friend, geto suguru, you couldn’t have been more dead wrong, except satoru doesn’t like suguru for you because he knows his kind all too well: a huge ass playboy who breaks hearts like he changes socks. but you think, MAYBE you’ll be the exception…maybe not.

CHARACTERS: drummer!geto suguru x you/afab reader | gojo satoru | various jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | band au | college au | stupid pining | aged-up characters | friends to lovers (?) | smut

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol, drugs | mentions of cheating, promiscuity, mild dubcon, etc. | god-awful pet names | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 61 next>>

You wished on all the forces of the universe to remove you from your current predicament. Have the floor swallow you whole, for the roof to cave in, make you disappear. Anything, any second now. But nothing. The universe isn't on your side, not this time. And you continued to stand between the counter and Suguru, gnawing at your lower lip so much, it's probably bleeding. All the while, you kept your eyes away from his unrelenting stare, fixing your eyes on the silver skull pendant that hung below his collar.

Suguru patiently stood his ground before you, not saying anything as time ticked by one agonizing second at a time. You can hear his every breath, fanning over your forehead. One minute movement and you'll be touching him. Not a good idea considering everything that happened. But it looked like there was no escaping this time.

Squaring your shoulders, you dared to meet his gaze, but you immediately shrunk back to your awkward state, except the words were already leaving your mouth before you could stop them. "You wanted to talk?" you croaked, your confidence dying in your throat when you saw the frustration dancing in his eyes.

Despite that, he was gentle in his approach. "That's what I said, kitten."

Or so you thought, regretting your next words. "C-can you um..." You motioned for him to move back, but he shook his head at you much to your chagrin.

"No. I don't think that's necessary."

You shrugged, sulking as you shifted your weight to your left leg. If he wasn't going to let you have your space, you can make it difficult for him, too. "Fine." You folded your arms over your chest, a satisfied smirk drawing itself across your lips when he slightly moved back at the action. "Talk about what, Suguru?"

His expressions were unreadable as he paused, evidently testing the waters. "Looks like I'm jumping all the hoops today, but I'll indulge you." He leveled his face to yours, mouth stretching into a grin. "Let's talk about that Sunday night you came home drunk. Particularly the part where you and I –"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" You were covering his mouth with your hand before he could finish, giving him a heavy look which he returned with one of understanding before you withdrew. You let out a loud exhale, feeling your knees go weak at the thought that the matter hangs between the two of you for discussion. You weren't ready, but you had to be if either of you are going to be okay with each other again without you evading him all the time regardless of how things would go.

You looked at him sheepishly. "Do you have to be this close though?"

He rolled his eyes at you. "You're not going anywhere this time, sweetheart."

Curse him for knowing you too well. "You're too close –"

"Getting shy with me now? Thought you wanted me this close." He arched a brow at you, getting in that pushy mood you disliked when directed at you.

"When did I say that?"

"Do you want specifics?"

"Now, you're just being exasperating." You did an eye roll which made him chuckle, but you were having none of his geniality. Instead, you pouted at him. "What about it, anyway?" you mumbled.

Suguru scoffed, the sound coming out with a little laughter of disbelief. "Did you seriously just ask me that, kitten?" He had taken a softer tone on you despite himself. "So, it's a trifling matter to you?"

You sighed. Talking about such things was hell on earth. You've taken drastic measures before just to avoid it, but he seems done with your nonsense. Suddenly, you felt tired, finally letting go of your guard and resting your forehead on his chest, prompting him to stand upright. You've always sought his familiar warmth without inhibitions, and you found comfort in the way he held you.

"That's not what I meant. It's nothing I can trifle with, as you put it. You're not someone I can just take for granted, and you know that."

"Y/N, that's exactly why I wanted to talk about it," he told you. "You're very important to me, too, and I don't want this to become the reason we fall apart."

The sincerity in his tone made you feel a little guilty although you knew it wasn't the intention. Suguru may have his flaws, some of which pissed you off terribly, but you can never deny that he cared for you, first, as Satoru's best friend, and second, as an actual friend to you. Your antics after what happened, something you even initiated, wasn't a good look, but you still felt like countering him on that despite the looming possibility of his words.

Stepping back a bit, you met his gaze, quickly regretting it when you saw just how intensely he was looking at you. But you leveled with him, all your unspoken feelings for him coming up to the surface and pretty much making your self-control crumble. He just held so much power over you, and he didn't even know it.

"Why does it have to make us fall apart?" you asked.

"Because..." He moved closer to you, large hands landing on your hips as he effortlessly lifted you up onto the counter, making you yelp and smack him on the arm from being startled. He chuckled as he stood before you, eyes lighting up as you pouted when he booped your nose. "You have a knack for avoiding things you don't want to deal with, better than you avoid your opponents on the field."

"I do not!" you protested, but it was met with a wry smile.

"Really now, kitten?" he challenged. "You managed to avoid me even in this house. Thought I wouldn't notice you sneaking out in the morning? Or how you made Megumi come here the day later just so you won't have to face me?" He feigned hurt but was unsuccessful in concealing the sly glint in his eyes and the slight upward twitch of his lips. "I made you hangover soup, you know."

You shrugged, feeling your face grow hot. "I'm sorry, okay?" you snapped, but the fight in you has long cooled down. "I just..."

"Yes, kitten?"

"I didn't know what to do about it," you mumbled. "I needed to think."

"And?"

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, silently considering what to say, and maybe you should be bolder like all those girls who pretty much got what they wanted from him one way or the other albeit momentarily. You weren't going to be one of them, were you? Come to think of it, he wouldn't even be around if the thought didn't bother him, would he? You just weren't sure in what manner, but you were going to make sure you weren't going to end up getting the short end of the stick.

Looking back to that night, he didn't force you into anything, even trying to stop you, but if this whole affair with him was one-sided, he wouldn't have done anything to cross that line with you at present and even a year ago.

"Does it bother you?" you asked him instead.

"Yes..." It was his turn to be uncertain and awkward. "Somehow, it does."

Huh, you thought, pushing further. "In what sense?"

"If you're asking if I regret it, kitten, I don't, and neither do I feel sorry in general save for the fact that you weren't clear in the head when it happened. I feel like I've taken advantage of you –"

"Okay, stop. I knew what I was doing, Suguru. I'm not exactly a kid you're supposed to babysit regardless of how you view me," you countered.

"Hmm. How exactly do I view you, Y/N?"

"Oh, I don't know. Your best friend's kid sister?"

Suguru arched a brow at you. "That's always been your opinion about me, sweetheart. I never said that. Otherwise, I wouldn't..." He let his words trail off as if he caught himself, but was hiding it under the guise of not wanting to state specifics.

You chuckled without mirth. "Do you realize what you're saying right now?"

His eyes went dark as he pushed his tongue against his cheek, jaw ticking as he ran his ring-adorned fingers through his hair in utter frustration. "Believe it or not, I do."

You faked a gasp, thrilled to your toes at his little revelation and deciding to make him 'jump the hoops' as he put it earlier. "My, my. My brother's best friend has the hots for me? Who would have known?"

"Y/N..." He sighed. "Kitten, don't say it like that. You make it sound like I'm some creep who stole your virtue."

You scoffed playfully. "You're the one acting like a damn virgin here since earlier. Now, I feel like the creep who stole yours."

"What?" He looked so appalled at your words that it was comical and you couldn't help giggling at his expression. "You little –"

"You're cute when you're flustered."

He rolled his eyes at you, but couldn't help but join in your laughter anyway. And as if nothing happened, you're back to being your silly selves around each other again. Or so it seemed in that moment which easily broke when he spoke again.

"So...did you dislike it?" he asked cautiously, looking at you from under his lashes. He sounded hopeful, and you couldn't help but think if he was ever any degree of vulnerable around anybody else.

"I don't know. I was drunk, remember?" you decided to bait him, and he bit it, making a face at you. You laughed even more at that.

"I'm serious, kitten." Suguru inched closer and closer, eyes hazy as he looked into yours, and you didn't even realize he was already standing between your thighs.

Shoot your shot, you thought to yourself, only hoping you won't regret it, but it seemed like a problem for future you. "I believe I made it clear just how I felt about it."

"Mhmm." His reponse was shaky at best, and you loved that you had this effect on him, too. "I can show you more, kitten," he whispered, lips almost touching yours, his piercing gaze daring you to make the next move as they shifted to your mouth ever so slowly, the intensity making you feel like he was touching you without even doing it, making you squirm.

But you weren't about to give in easily, inching back slightly even as your hand slid up his shoulder. "I don't know, Suguru." You smirked at him. "Can you?"

He returned the gesture, eyes smoldering. "Wanna find out?"

"I–"

"I'm home!"

Suguru jerked back at the sound of Satoru's voice from the direction of the hallway, leaving him with no choice but to stand awkwardly against the adjacent sink.

"In here!" you called out, picking up your abandoned sandwich, taking a bite as you suppressed laughter at nearly being caught by your brother who appeared by the archway and leisurely entered the kitchen.

"You're here, too? Didn't know you were coming over," he said to Suguru. "Had dinner yet?"

Suguru furtively glanced at you. "Was about to."

You winked at him then hopped out of the counter, taking your sandwich with you, motioning to leave the kitchen.

"That's all you're gonna eat? Is Utahime telling you to lose weight or something?" Satoru asked, noticing your food.

"Nah, too lazy to whip anything up." You looked at Suguru, your gaze pregnant with meaning. "I'll be in my room. Don't bother me."

TAG LIST: @lilc77 @strxkbylightning @lavender-hvze @maya-maya-56 @kibananya @nerdisthenewcool @darkstarlight82 @lysaray @ti-mame @ri-sa20 @diogodxlot @sugurubabe @guacam011y @yeehawslap @luvvmae @s-j320 @ichorstainedskin @iaminyourfloors @tanchosanke @hellyyy06 @tacobellfreshavocado @mrs-monkey-d-luffy @iluv-ace @clxvrs

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© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240704]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[scarawiki]

idk how this app works help

scaramouche x gn!reader , idk the word count 😬

first one shot ever prbly ooc scara i'm not sure how to write him very well :( most of it is rly self indulgent for comfort im going thru it i fear lawl. not beta read either i almost never write pls be nice 🤕🙏🙏 excuse any grammar or spelling errors

cw: mentions of poor eating habits due to depression & anxiety , mental health stuff , yada yada nothing super explicit

divider creds: @rookthornesartistry

You laid still in your bed that you shared with your partner Scaramouche, while he was out and about finding ingredients for dinner.

Since he left, you were once again alone with your thoughts. Constantly ruminating on the past and picking apart everything. Your mind had kept screaming at you, and you couldn't calm it regardless of what you tried. You were left feeling even more hopeless than before.

Scaramouche had picked up on your "odd" behaviors lately, but you simply brushed it off and just told him,

"I'm probably coming down with something. The weather is changing, don't worry about it too much."

You didn't want to burden him with your silly problems, right? Knowing his past, you didn't want to add more to the mix. You were sure you could deal with it on your own.

Following that afternoon, you sobbed. You were so dizzy and your head was pounding, wishing the world had swallowed you whole already. You felt that Scaramouche deserved someone better than your pathetic self. You didn't understand why you couldn't just feel happy. Why was it so hard? Why can't you get out of bed? Why can't you wake up in the mornings?

You heard the front door opening, and you quickly wiped away your remaining tears that rolled down your face, and tried to get comfortable again. Your whole body ached and you just wanted it all to end.

"(Y/N)? I'm home. I managed to find a few things for later tonight. I had to bargain a lot though, food is getting expensive these days."

Scaramouche called out from the living room, setting down everything on the counter. After no answer, he became curious and knocked on the bedroom door.

"Hey? Don't tell me you're still asleep, it's almost 6 PM."

He let out a small sigh after more silence followed, and then opened the door. He saw you were burrowed under the blankets, and came to sit down on the edge of the bed. He pulled the covers back to reveal your tear-stained face, and a wave of concern came over him.

Scaramouche was never particularly good at comforting others, or feelings in general. He was never shown gentleness and compassion in his 500 years of living, before he met you.

"Who did it?"

Scaramouche asked, immediately jumping to the conclusion that someone had caused you harm to hurt this badly.

"No one," you managed to whisper out. "It's really nothing. Don't waste your time on me."

He was slightly taken aback by your dismissive behavior, but decided to pry further. Scaramouche wouldn't know how to deal with himself if anything ever happened to you.

"Okay... well, you haven't been eating, and last time I checked, you aren't a puppet. You've been sleeping in until dinner time for the past few days. Out with it."

He sounded demanding, but soon mentally scolded himself for his tone with you when he saw the vulnerability in your expression.

"I just don't know what to do anymore... I feel so scared and exhausted all the time, I can hardly wake up in the mornings, and food doesn't bring me joy anymore. I can't even remember the last time I felt okay. I didn't want to bother you because I didn't think it was that bad, to be honest. I'm sorry for keeping it from you, Scaramouche. I swear it has nothing to do with you."

Your vision blurred as you spoke, and you could feel your throat closing up. You didn't know how much more you could handle of this constant misery.

Scaramouche stayed silent for a few moments, taking in everything you had told him. You had always seemed so bubbly and excited around him, and when he saw you completely falling apart in front of him for the first time, he felt confused.

"...How long has this been really going on?"

He inquired, and his eyes had a softer look in them.

"A few years, it comes and goes but it doesn't seem like it'll ever get better. I'm tired of suffering, Scaramouche. I want to enjoy life again and look forward to the future. Instead, I dread the next days to come."

You responded, avoiding eye contact and fidgeted with your hands. When Scaramouche took notice of this, he gently grabbed your hands and set them in his lap.

"I'll be blunt, I'm still figuring how these whole "emotions" work. But, I do see that you aren't yourself right now. Yes, you can be a little irritating at times, but I wouldn't be with you if I didn't... love you."

Scaramouche felt hesitant to say those last words, but at the same time it felt right. He then continues,

"It would be pointless to be in a relationship with someone if you weren't upfront with them, but I can see how you might have felt like a bother. I promise that you will never be a burden to me, and I hope you know that I would rather die than ever lay a finger on you, or hurt you any other way. You're one of the first few people to show me how to love and broke through my tough exterior. You never left me during my hard times, and I'm sure as hell not leaving you."

Scaramouche took a deep breath, and looked down at his lap to give your hands a slight squeeze.

"I will do everything in my power to help you feel better. I want to see to see you happy. I want to see that smile on your face again. But, you have to work with me, alright?"

He looks back up and lifts one of his hands to gently grab your chin to face him.

You reluctantly look into his eyes, and slowly nod.

"Okay, I'll try... Thank you."

You replied slowly, drained of any remaining energy you had left. Scaramouche leaned down to remove some of your hair out of the way, and placed a delicate kiss on your forehead. He came back up and caressed your cheek, and sighed softly.

"I'm not letting you suffer alone. Ever."

[mikedfaist]

after reader invites him over and they have their night together how does that go? do they talk in the morning and get back together or do they say some more dumb stuff?

first, i want to apologize for switching back and forth with the povs. i have been awake since 5 am, and its 10 pm and my brain is liquid soup. also, this isn't my best -- hence liquid soup brain -- so bear with me, i am only a person

She texted him out of the blue – 10 AM on a Wednesday. She had woken up, taken a shower, and returned to bed with her cuppa. As she sat there, bundled up in her blankets on her side of the bed, she couldn’t help but feel entrapped by the loneliness. Engulfed and suffocated. If he were here, he’d be right there by her side, either a hand on her thigh or his head resting in her lap. Now, he’s somewhere else.

Can you come over sometime today to talk? I’ll be home all day.

Rotting in bed, but she doesn’t add that.

He responds ten minutes later as you were doom scrolling on Instagram.

Of course. I’m leaving brunch right now, I can be at yours in 20.

Yours. That stung. It was ours.

30 minutes later there’s a knock on the door; he’s apologizing for running late, the train stalled underground. You also notice he didn’t use his key. His hands are dug deep in his pockets, and you watch him meander in the entryway waiting for your cue.

“Would you like some tea? I put the kettle on a bit ago…”

So fucking formal for the same guy whose balls have been in your mouth. You bite the inside of your cheek as you revel in the sight of the man who without a doubt is thinking the same thing.

He shakes his head politely. “No thanks.”

You two sit on the sofa, a space separating you two that feels unnatural. He’s playing with his hands in his lap, staring blankly ahead at a magazine on the table. Numéro Netherlands. You were on the cover this month.

You have to be the first to talk – you invited him over – but you don’t know where to start. The last time you two spoke didn’t end well, and you aren’t sure whether to blame it on the fact you weren’t entirely sober, or that the anger carried with you was still prevalent and scorching beneath the surface.

“Thanks for coming…” He looked up at you with a surprisingly horrified expression. He really did come here thinking you were officially ending things. Cutting ties. Taking his key. “I’m sorry for how things went last time—”

“Stop, you had every right—”

“Michael, I fucking swear, just…” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “This is already hard for me, just let me talk.”

He felt his stomach fucking drop. This really was it. He hung onto the mere idea of a chance you would take him back, but now all hope was evaporating before him. His hands were clammy. He could feel his heartbeat in his head. He started to break out in a sweat.

“I miss you…and I hate what happened, and how it happened, and I wish I could just go back and redo the whole thing… It fucking kills me waking up and you’re not there, and going to bed and you’re not there, getting off stage and the one person I want to see isn’t there.”

He couldn’t figure out where to focus his attention. Her fingers picking at the skin by her nails, the magazine cover, the lone dog toy left absent by the coffee table.

“I just want to go back to how it was before… I don’t know if that’s possible, but I think about it a lot.”

“I want to try.” He bites his lip at the shakiness of his voice. He’s treading lightly, too worried to overstep and break apart everything they’re building up right now. “If you’re willing, I… That’s all I want, really.”

“I guess it’ll take time to find our footing again.” She forces a smile, but her eyes hold deep sadness. “I still love you. That never changed.”

Eventually, he agrees to a cuppa, but it becomes long forgotten when she sits on the counter waiting for the kettle to boil, and Mike strides in between her legs to hold her. The first time they’ve touched each other since before the fight a month ago. One kiss – hungry and passionate – leads to his fingers in her hair, and her knuckles white holding a grip to his shirt. Her hand falls beneath his top, cascading along his hip, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

He suddenly remembers the morning he fucked her against this very counter, a mere months ago, and how now they’re coming full circle.

“Bed?” You’re breathless, separating for only a moment but Mike is chasing back after your lips. You can feel him nod, but he doesn’t make a movement to separate from you. “Babe?” It falls so naturally from your mouth that it doesn’t register immediately, until Mike parts from you and lets his head fall to the nape of your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, letting him have his moment.

“I love you,” you feel his words pressed against your skin. He places a soft kiss to your neck, before lifting his head back up to face yours. Without a word, he mindlessly moves the kettle from burner and turns it off. “C’mon.”

He follows you up the stairs, and instinctively shuts the door behind you both. He undresses you like it’s a sin, taking his time feeling over every inch of exposed skin he could find. He really couldn’t believe his luck. He came here thinking he was losing you forever, and now he’s in your bed. He’s scrambling out of his clothes, watching you intently as you pull your shirt over your head to reveal your bare chest.

He doesn’t remember the last time he truly made love to you. Things have felt different since the new year, and things slowly began to break apart. Sex devoid of passion. It was no wonder things fell apart as they did.

He holds you taut against him as he ruts into you, a feeling you missed deeply. You don’t even feel embarrassed for how quick you feel that knot tighten in your stomach; you happily welcome it. You’re cumming hard around him, digging harsh red lines on his back as he chases his own high not far from yours.

Two more rounds, and by now it’s late afternoon. You two lay in an entanglement of exhausted limbs and bedsheets. He’s in the same spot you were daydreaming about only hours ago. His eyes are closing, but he’s reaching out blindly for your arm, tugging you close to him.

[midnightloversmusic]

Hot Cocoa & Love notes

remus lupin x reader

“Your cheeks only turned a darker shade when you looked up. The most gorgeous man you have ever seen was standing right in front of you, well, right behind the counter.”

first day of flufftober!!! I thought this would be perfect for day one, just a cute little coffee shop meet-cute :)) hope you enjoy!

masterlist

————————————————————————

Your fingers felt like they were 2 seconds away from falling off and the bus stop was still a block away and you thought you might as well give up here, drop your groceries and freeze to death, that is until you saw a sign a few store fronts up.

“ moony’s

$1 hot cocoa every sunday!”

The sign was written in pastel chalk and had the moon cycles drawn in a border around it. Seeing this sign saved you from one hell of a breakdown. With a sudden rush of motivation you headed inside the cute cafe. Immediately sighing from the warmth that you felt. It was past noon and there weren't a whole lot of people in the cafe. Just an older woman reading a cheesy romance novel on one of the dark green couches by the front, two teenagers, probably on a date, you think to yourself based on the giggling and awkward movements they made trying to discreetly scooch a little closer to each other. On the other side of the cafe there was a man silently typing on his computer and sipping on a steaming cup of coffee.

You were so busy studying the cozy place in front of you and trying to get the feeling back in your hands that you forgot to make any move to go up to the counter. That is until you heard a soft

“Ehm” coming from the front of the store.

Heat rose to your cheeks and you immediately started walking towards the counter. Your cheeks only turned a darker shade when you looked up. The most gorgeous man you have ever seen was standing right in front of you, well, right behind the counter. He had slightly curly auburn hair, wide hazel eyes, and a scar that went up from the middle of his left cheek all the way over the bridge of his nose to right under his right eye.

You definitely were not feeling cold anymore, in fact you felt like the cafe just got way too hot way too fast and all the sudden you wished you were in a tank top and jeans. The cute, and stunningly handsome, boy cleared his throat again, his lips are now tilted slightly upward. Obviously amused by your flustered state.

“Sorry” you mutter

Slowly coming to the realization if you keep staring at him you won't be able to get a word out without becoming a stuttering mess.

“Sorry” you repeat, shaking your head and redirecting your vision down to the granite counter.

“Can I please have a hot chocolate? No whipped cream please.”

“Mhm, and what will be the name for that?”

God. Even his voice was attractive for fucks sake. It was smooth and deep and just so,

“y/n” you say before you can think anymore.

“Pretty” he says so quietly you almost didn't catch it.

Lucky for you, you did. Or maybe unluckily because now you are sure your cheeks are heating up again. You watch him silently as he takes a foam cup from the stand next to him and gets a sharpie from under the counter. You watch his hands, which are absolutely sinful, your brain adds unhelpfully, as they write on the back of the cup. You track his movements when he walks over to the bar and starts making your cocoa. You're more than aware he can probably feel you staring at him. But you don't have enough energy to care anymore.

He quickly finishes up and slips a cardboard sleeve onto your drink so you don't burn yourself. He walks back over to the register and hands you your drink. Your fingers brush for more time than is necessary and you swear your stomach does backflips.

“Thank you” you said

His eyes are kind and his smile is soft when he says “of course, love”

You suppress a squeal as you pick up your bags from the floor and, begrudgingly, walk back out into the cold and to the bus stop. Once you made it onto the bus and have finally settled down you notice that the cafe boy wrote more than just your name on the back of the cup.

“You are very pretty, let me take you out sometime? :) - Remus” with a phone number written right beneath it.

You really hope no one is looking at you right now because if they were they'd probably think you were psychotic staring at your cup with a huge grin on your face.

Remus, You think. It suits the cafe boy very well.

You spend the rest of the bus ride planning out what to say to him when you call him later.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Unhinged Kitchen: Lucifer ft. Charlie

Lucifer: *standing at the kitchen counter with various ingredients around him* Hellooooooo, and welcome to Hazbin Hotel's Unhinged Kitchen! Where we will be going over the poor man, the bachelor, the college student way of cooking and baking for all your comfort foods!

Charlie: Dad, what are you doing?

Lucifer: Just teaching all the poor, forever alone Sinners how to cook and bake on a budget!

Vaggie: I think he's projecting, Babe....

Lucifer: *clears his throat* Have you ever wanted a nice, comforting, delicious, warm apple pie but don't have the money to pay for a whole one at the store? Well, today I'm going to show you all how to make cheap and easy apple crisp! All you're gonna need is some instant oats, butter, powdered cinnamon, vanilla extract, and a form of apples we will go over later. Oh! and light brown sugar if you wish!

First! Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit or 176 Celsius. *turns on oven.*

Next! You're gonna want to put a pot on the stove around medium heat, and then plop on in a whopping three sticks of butter!

Charlie: Three?!?! Dad!!! Are you sure that's right?!?!?!

Lucifer: Oh! Right! You may need that fourth stick of butter, so keep in on hand.

Charlie: *jaw drops*

Lucifer: Now, we're gonna melt these bad boys while sprinkling in cinnamon, light brown sugar, and vanilla extract. Not too much to start, mind you. Brown sugar should be maybe a spoon full. The rest is gonna be to taste after we get the oats in.

Charlie: *holding up five different types of spoons* WHICH SPOON?!?!?

Lucifer: Any of them. We adjust to taste later. ANYWAY!!! Stir all this together and add 18 ounces or one small container of quick oats! *pops open the lid of an oatmeal container and dumps everything into the pot before stirring everything together* Aaaaaaannnnd stir, baby, stir!!! We want these bad boys completely coated in the delicious butter mix! Soak up aaaaaaallllll that slick, buttery goodness! If you're still dry, don't worry! Add another stick and you'll be fine! Add more of your cinnamon or brown sugar or whatever until you like the taste.

Angel: HA!!! That's what she said!!!

Charlie: ......I'm worried about you, Dad.

Lucifer: Now that we have our evenly coated oats, we're going to make our apple mixture! But, apples are EXPENSIVE!!! And taking the time to cut and peel and core them is exhausting enough without having to fry or bake them in MORE butter and whatever.

Charlie: *burps uncomfortably* You mean... there could be MORE butter???

Niffty: YAY!!! BRING ON THE CHOLESTEROL!!!

Lucifer: So! We're going to take the easy way out! Apples may be expensive, but you know what isn't? APPLE PIE FILLING AND CANNED FRIED APPLES!!! *pulls out two cans of pie filling and two cans of fried apples before grabbing a can opener and popping open each can with a satisfying TSSSHHHHHHH!!!*

Alastor: *wendigo screeches in the distance* WHO IS DESACRATING THE HOLY SANCTITY THAT IS FRIED APPLES?!?!

Lucifer: SHUT IT, BELHOP!!! Anyway! Put the apple pie filling in the bottom of a 9x13 inch pan, or standard cake baking pan, then drain all the liquid out of the fried apples. *holds the tops of the cans closed as he drains the juice into the sink with a wet SCHLURP!!!*

Vaggie: ....Ew......

Lucifer: Might have to jiggle them a little bit to get all the juice out. *shakes the cans into the sink and a more rated-R sound fills the air*

Angel: Ha! No wonder why you call this the bachelor's baking! That sounds like-

Charlie: *covers her ears and groans* UuuUuUUUuuuuuUuUUuggghhh.....

Vaggie: *helps cover Charlie's ears* Lucifer, what the fuck?

Lucifer: Aaaaaaaannnnd!!! Dump into the pan! Now that we have the two types of apples in, we're going to take a page out of Carmilla Carmine's book and add a little love!

Charlie: Oh! Baking with love! That sounds nice!

Lucifer: *adds a little more cinnamon and vanilla to the mix before slapping his bare hand into the mix and swirling everything around with a slightly deranged look on his face*

Angel: .........Char.... I think your dad needs to get laid....

Vaggie: ......No amount of therapy will ever make this okay.....

Charlie: *dry heaving into the trash can*

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! We are experiencing some technical difficulties. We apologize for the inconvenience. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!*

Lucifer: *standing with a freshly baked apple crisp on the counter and his hair in disarray* And THAT is how you make a poor man's apple crisp!

Hazbins: *shock and disgust*

[ronearoundblindly]

Ro! I’ve been on a mint chocolate chip ice cream kick lately, and it makes me wish I could share a pint with a babe (that’s also probably very much the pre period hormones, but anywayyy) which ice cream flavor do you think you would associate with each of the babes? Their favorite flavor and/or personality trait-wise.

Mint chip is my favorite, too! \o/ I don't get to eat ice cream much, but this was interesting to think about. I will try not to project onto the babes, though, only their pure likes maybe...

Oh snap! I can use the banner again!!! (All characters I've ever written for below.)

James Mace - Neapolitan

When this guy indulges (very rarely), he can't decide on just one flavor, so the easiest thing to do is get multiples. If he can go to a shop where you order by the scoop, he'll ask whoever is behind the counter what the popular or new or their faves are and try three of those. Mace, I believe, can pack away some ice cream.

Curtis Everett - Birthday Cake or Cotton Candy

The sickliest sweet things are a delight to Curtis. He's never gotten over how bland and boring and miserable the food of his childhood was. He goes nuts for sugar overload, but in intensity of taste, not in volume.

Jimmy Dobyne - Peach

Fruity, refreshing, creamy, and just screaming to add a dirty joke onto the end of it, Jimmy will use any excuse to sneak a double-entendre into polite conversation with a pretty lady. "Your peaches taste the sweetest..." Yeah, dessert is more about flirting than it is about eating. Ice cream is nice in the heat, however, so it's a great date option.

Johnny Storm - Cookies & Cream

With extra cookie crumbles and caramel sauce on top, he'll demand. Sprinkles, too, if you have it. Maybe some gummy worms or cereal. At least, like, five cherries. Oh! Also preferred that it be hard frozen when he starts eating so that it's not soup halfway through his rapid eating of it. The sensation of eating ice cream gets lost when he can barely tell it's cold.

Jake Jensen - Black Raspberry Chocolate Chip

This flavor has everything (and yeah, ok, I am projecting a bit on this one, whatever). Jake likes a whole lot of flavors and textures; he's actually not picky at all. He does enjoy ~the hunt~ for this rarer find in all his travels because raspberry is a popular flavor--it's often a sorbet though--but it's not the most popular of the berry options. He also will try all of the crazy niche flavors at hole-in-the-wall places. Conversely, it is easier to work while not holding a bowl or cone, so Jake loves a good milkshake or malt. Those he can sucked down like air.

Lloyd Hansen - Mint Chocolate Chip

My theory is this man is obsessed with fresh: fresh food, fresh sheets, fresh intel, fresh meat. Bet you his lip balm is always, only mint, too. Very classic. Very pristine. Fresh. Sweetness with a purpose.

Ari Levinson - Butter Pecan

Fine, I'm projecting again, idec, but you can't tell me Ari isn't this kind of old soul who loves not-overly-sugary treats! You cannot change my mind. That guy loves the crunch of candied pecans in there, he freaking lives for that rounded slightly-savory sweet cream flavor, and he loves that it's widely available but never sold out anywhere. Easy!

Ransom Drysdale - Coffee

And it's weirdly been that way since he was too young of a kid to drink coffee? Turns out, this was the flavor his father got but told Ransom he wasn't old enough for, he wouldn't like it. Of course, Ran immediately ordered two scoops of it in a chocolate dipped sprinkle cone, and while he may not have been totally keen on it in that exact moment, coffee-flavor grew on him. He loves it as much as he loves all of the other behaviors that say "f*** you" to his parents.

Steve Rogers - Rocky Road

Created during the Great Depression, this ice cream was shared between Steve and his Ma quite a few nights when he was too sickly to go out but needed a pick-me-up. Bucky enjoyed it with him, too, but it's not his favorite. Steve tends to really enjoy eating only when there's nostalgia attached to the food.

Bucky Barnes - Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter

Rich, velvety, and made slightly different by each company. Sometimes Bucky wants ribbons of fudge and the tiny pb cups mixed in; sometimes he wants full-blown chocolate ice cream with peanut butter swirled in. Can't go wrong. Only good, heavy, decadent happiness vibes.

I am...stunned at how confident I feel in these choices HA!

Thank you for asking!

[ladychota]

Remember It All

Pairing - Loki x Female Reader

Warnings - Memory loss (lmk if you want me to add anything)

Summary - Y/n is working at the coffee shop with MJ when a mysterious visitor arrives to order drinks.

Word Count - 1.2k

Masterlist

"So... did you guys get in to MIT?" You ask, fiddling with the bandage wrapped tightly around your left hand.

"Nope," MJ tosses her letter into the bin nearby. "Neither did Peter or Ned,"

You sigh. "Ugh, I'm so annoyed that the world believes all that Mysterio crap. If only it hadn't affected you all so,"

MJ hums in agreement. "It's okay. I was kinda expecting it anyways,"

"You expect disappointment so you'll never be disappointed?" You quote the line she has said so many a time, especially since the whole Spiderman and Mysterio nonsense. You feel for Peter - he's a nice kid.

"Mhm, exactly,"

The shop's doorbell chimes as someone walks in, hands in their pockets to stave off some of the winter cold.

"I'll get that. You take as much time as you need, okay?" You say, walking over to the counter.

A man stands in front of it, scanning the menu. He has black, shoulder length hair and his eyes are a stunning - almost familiar - green. You swear you've seen him before, but where? Every soft curve and smile line in his face looks right... except the deep bags under his eyes. For some reason you want to place your hand on his face and smooth them out...

But this man is a stranger. You don't even know his name.

"Hey, how can I help?" You ask, brushing away your odd thoughts.

"Uh hi, can I-" He turns to you and freezes, eyes wide. He just stands there in silence for a few seconds, his eyes scanning your face. Normally you'd find this rather creepy, but this feels strangely... right.

The man turns away and looks out of the shop window to where a man with long, blonde hair stands. He beams at the man in front of you.

"Um..." He hums, turning back to you. "Could I have two coffees... please? The name is Loki,"

You nod and start preparing the drinks, trying to ignore the gaze of the man behind you. Loki... that name is also very familiar. But you have no idea why; it's getting rather frustrating.

In no time at all, the coffees are ready; you place them on the counter and secure the lids.

"Loki?" You call. He doesn't respond. "Loki? Your coffees," He seems to jolt from his thoughts, striding over quickly to pay. 

"Of course, sorry. And thank you," He slides a ten dollar note onto the counter, a sad grin playing on his face. "Keep the change,"

You nod and open the till, picking up the money and sliding it in. "Thanks,"

"Uh... are you alright?" You look up, noticing that Loki now wears a concerned expression. He points at your bandage-bound hand.

"Oh! Yes, thanks. You know, I don't actually know how I did it. I just kind of... woke up one day and I had a huge gash in the middle of my palm," You chuckle at the strangeness of the situation, thinking of the other random cuts and bruises all over your body.

"But it's okay," You continue, for some reason feeling safe to talk in such detail to this man. "It doesn't hurt too much anymore. And I can use it just fine!"

Loki smiles a sad yet happy smile; one that looks as if he's yearning for something but knows he can't have it - possibly for the better.

"Well, I'm glad it's healing well," He picks up the drinks he ordered. "And, uh-" He clears his throat. "Thank you... for everything,"

He smiles, his eyes glittering with... tears? Is he upset? But, as much as you are worried for him, you are extremely confused. Why is he so thankful? All you did was make him some coffee and spit out some sob story about your injury.

Your brow furrows, but you smile anyway. "No problem..."

Usually you wish customers a good day before they leave the shop, but you seem to be frozen as you watch him walk out, handing one of the drinks to the blonde haired man as they walk out of sight.

"What the hell was that about?" MJ calls across the shop, speaking your thoughts aloud.

You shake your head slowly, your gaze stuck to where the man just stood. "I have no idea..."

Snapping out of your daze, you grab a donut in a serviette and place it on the counter in front of MJ.

"Thanks," She says, picking up the food. "Honestly though, he's either a creep or a long lost lover of yours,"

"Really? A long lost lover?" You laugh, your smile not reaching your eyes.

A long lost lover...

Suddenly an image pops into your mind of you and Loki sitting exactly where you and MJ are now, his hand clasped in yours on top of the counter. A small, loving smile plays on his lips as you talk, his thumb rubbing slowly over your knuckles.

"Well, duh." MJ jokes. "I mean-"

You don't hear her finish that sentence. Image after image of you and Loki fly through your head - it feels as if you've been hit by a bolt of lightning, each memory shuddering through you like electricity.

Before you can even process what you're doing, you're running towards the door.

"Wait, Y/n! Where are you going?!" MJ calls out to you.

"I'll be back!" Is all you manage to say as you slip through the door and begin to run down the street.

You and Loki were dating! You were a thing! He was yours and you were his...

And yet, you forgot. How the hell did you forget!?

But that is a concern for later. For now, you have to catch up with him.

You push past everyone on the sidewalk until you see the two men up ahead. Thor and Loki...

"Loki! Wait!" You yell, not caring who hears or sees.

Your thoughts and memories are too jumbled up to know exactly how long it's been since you forgot, but for a while you've been feeling as if something has been missing. Moreover, someone.

The two Gods turn upon hearing your shout, their eyes wide with confusion. Panting, you come to a stop in front of them.

"Y/n? Are you quite alright?" Loki asks, a spark of realisation flaring in his eyes. But he doesn't dare ask for fear he's being too hopeful. 

A smile crawls onto your face, tears springing into your eyes as you realise how much you've unknowingly missed him.

"Y-you... me..." You're still panting after having run down the block, words not forming correctly in your mouth.

Loki just watches you, handing his coffee cup to Thor and waiting patiently for you to finish your flustered attempt at a sentence.

Instead, you reach up and place a hand on his face. He doesn't flinch away, but leans in to your touch, tears welling at the bottom of his eyes.

"I remember... I remember it all..." Your voice is strained and choked by tears. Loki's hands cup your face, his thumbs running over your cheeks and collecting the wet trails.

"You do?" He whispers.

You nod, moving your hands to cover his. He lets out a bewildered laugh before leaning down and smashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss.

Eventually he pulls away, murmuring: "I love you, my darling... and I'm so sorry,"

"It's alright, you have nothing to apologise for," You reassure, your heart swelling. "I love you too," Your lips meet his once more as you decide to never let go of him again.

~★~

A/N - Not sure how I feel about this one so feel free to let me know your thoughts! :)

[quartermera]

Daily Actions that Nami, Robin and Bonney Find Attractive

Hi everyone! Once again, no one requested this, but I really wanted to make a version of these with wahmen. It will probably be the last one for while though, because I am starting to feel like I am repeating myself. !Gender & race neutral reader !Reader is mentioned to have hair

Nami

When you model different outfits for her

Watching you do your morning routine (brush teeth, comb hair, and anything else you may do)

Nami would love to watch you sleep

But after a while she would be tempted to wake you up, either playfully or naughtily

Watching you undress. Not in a naughty way, rather the casual nudity and that you feel comfortable around her

When you wear a bathrobe

Especially if it's the sexy, silk type of think

Nami loves it when you play along with her trying to "extort" money from the Strawhats

Even if you'd gently call her out about it later

She loves when you get her presents! Gift giving would probably be one of her main love languages

And yes, bonus points if it's something for her maps or jewelry

When you tend to your hair, and maybe add little trinkets, a headband or anything like that

When you take pictures of her

Or when you take pictures together :3

Girl is ready to pose in lingerie if it's for you

She likes when you come up with new ways to decorate your room/cabin

She'll help you find trinkets to match what you're looking for

Nami would find it amusing if you playfully bowed to her every once in a while

Nico Robin

When you rest your head on her shoulder

Seeing you concentrated on a task

Bonus point if you're just reading

When you're gently petting a cat

Watching you do something you're good at (playing an instrument, drawing, writing, you name it)

Robin has a soft spot for watching you put on stockings

Or a button up shirt

Bonus points if you roll up the sleeves

Oddly specific, but when you tend to plants

Sharing a glass of wine or a cup of tea with you

When you rest your head in her lap

Reading together

Taking a bath together *chef's kiss*

When you spontaneously link your pinky fingers as you walk together

Robin would love listening to you talk. About your childhood, your dreams, your fears, whatever you wish to tell her about

When you're the one suggesting a date, like inviting her to the restaurant or such

She also thinks it's adorable if she can get you flustered

Overall, Robin would take any chance she gets to spend time with you

Jewelry Bonney

Watching you stretch

When you play with an animal

Bonus point if it's a dog

When you surprise her with a snack

When you snake your arm around her (waist, shoulders, whichever you prefer)

(But she has a soft spot for waist an hips)

Even better! If you put your hand in her back pocket! Yes, it's cheesy, but she loves it

Milk/coffee/cocoa mustaches

When you lean against something relatively tall, like a bar counter

Watching you slip into a shirt, especially if slightly oversized

Or when you wear smth that hangs loosely on your hips

God she wants to pull you into a room then and there

I know this won't apply to everyone, but she'd love piercings and tattoos

When you lie in bed together and you casually hold onto one of her boobs

Fishnet anything

If she's sitting and you let your hand rest in the crook of her neck

Or on her thigh if you're sitting next to her

Or if you whole ass put one of your legs over hers

She's a sucker for physical touch, okay?

[glassbxttless]

L&D Baby

Nurse!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Summary: Steve and his wife are having their first baby— and it happens to be at the hospital he works at.

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: 18+ (editing to add: no sexual themes, but I am literally an adult and do not want minors interacting with my content whatsoever), marriage, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of a stillbirth, dad!steve, labor and delivery nurse!steve, blood/blood loss, swearing— as always let me know if there’s any tags i missed!

Notes: This is posted over on my ST blog ( @hellfirestxnes ). Once all of my content is moved over here— that blog will be inactive as my main objective is to have one space for myself!

Steve is tired. His bones are aching and his eyes are sore, but it’s just another Friday really. He has about half of his shift left and he’s off again, thankfully, until Monday. Leaning on the counter at the nurses station, listening to the other nurses gossip and share stories about their kids. And he’s thinking about you at home, sitting pretty and waiting for him to come home— belly swollen with his child. Any other day, he might tuck himself away and use the phone to call and check in, but today… he couldn’t face it. The first delivery he was on that morning, he watched a new mother wish with every fiber of her being that what the doctor was telling her wasn’t true. He cleaned up that baby, took their weight and height, made out the card for the parents that would never get to hear a cry. He bundled up gray, cold skin and hoped that the couple would be able to find peace. Somewhere deep down, he wishes he wouldn’t have heard them ask how did this happen? Everything was just fine this morning. But, now here he sits. Thinking about that delivery, thinking about his wife at home. His very pregnant wife. Your pregnancy has gone by so quickly, been such a breeze. He’s been to as many appointments as he could, especially the ones you were so worried about. But there’s always a reassuring answer of your baby being strong and healthy. A perfect little Harrington. And now, Steve’s never found himself more terrified. If everything can be fine and perfect one second and terribly tragic the next, he doesn’t know where to find his peace. He hangs his head against his hands for a few moments— taking a deep breath. He’s gotta get himself straight, take a few moments. But there’s hellos being exchanged a few feet away and after what seems like a millisecond, a hand is settling on his lower back. He snaps around, prepared to give the whole I’m married spiel he’s done a thousand times, he’s met with the beautiful eyes of his adoring wife. And that softens his features, he’s visibly relaxing.

You smile at him, as he tugs you into his grip. The hug lasts longer than usual and Steve loves hugging you. You rub his back and kiss his shoulder, “you forgot your lunch.” You whisper to him quietly, the bag in your left hand adorning a beautiful band that Steve had so carefully picked out himself. At your words, Steve’s grip just tightens a bit and he kisses your head, sighing out. “Do you wanna eat together?”

“Yeah, angel. Just about to take my break. come on.” he says quietly, leading you down to the cafeteria. He pulls out your chair and you can tell something is distracting him as he sits. He’s busying himself by passing out the food, but he’s quiet and normally— he isn’t. He asks about your day, tells you about his, has told you he loves you a dozen times by now. And he knows you’ve noticed, by the way his eyes flick up to yours and back down again. “I’m okay.” he says after catching the look on your face.

“You’re not.” you reply, matter-of-factly. “What’s going on, Steve? Can talk to me.” you reach over for his hand, thumb brushing over his own gold wedding band. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Steve sighs heavily, flipping his hand over to take yours gently. “The first birth I was on this morning was a stillbirth and I dunno… just had me thinking a lot.” He explains, his eyes dropping down to your belly across the table. You nod slightly, the hand that wasn’t entwined in his moves to your belly. You’re almost due and neither you nor Steve have ever had to worry about this. Never had it been a thought in your head.

“Just want you guys safe, is all.” Steve says softly and gives your hand a squeeze before he’s pulling it away to eat his lunch with you. And when it’s time for him to get back to work, you stand. There’s a dull ache that starts in your back and wraps around to your tummy, it lasts about 30 seconds as you clean up from lunch. You ignore it as he hugs you tightly, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “I’ll see you at home, okay? Take it easy, rest.” He reminds you, rubbing up and down your arms.

“Yeah, okay.” You acknowledge him with a nod, before you feel another aching pain. But this time it’s accompanied by a slow trickle of fluid down your thighs. And when Steve notices where your eyes are falling, all of the hair on the back of his neck stands up.

“Oh.” Is all he can manage. He’s done this a thousand and ten times over the past few years. He’s consoled laboring mothers, he’s held their hands and cleaned them up, he’s been their support system. It’s his job. But here he is, with his own wife, frozen in his tracks. Your water broke and he can tell with the uncomfortable face you’re making the contractions have started as well. “Okay, angel… let’s… let’s get you checked in.” he says softly and suddenly, you’re more than thankful for the pre-registry packet Steve made you fill out last week. He holds your hand the entire time they check you in and get you into a room. He can hear his pager going off and he’d check it, every now and again, hoping one of the other nurses could pick up his patients, since he still technically was on his shift. But when he can’t put it off any longer, he kisses your head. “Listen, I’ll be right back okay? I’m not leaving you alone for this. I’ll be really quick.” he says softly.

You just nod, munching on the ice chips he had brought you not too long ago. You still feel like you have time. The contractions aren’t that close together yet. But Steve would throw a fit if they even tried to send you home and you know it. Steve smiles nervously when he wheels a cart into another expectant parent’s room. He introduces himself and shakes her husband’s hand when he extends it to him introducing themselves as, “Caleb and Connie Bear.” He's trying to keep the small talk up and keep himself calm— and not to think of his wife four rooms down. “Is this your first?” he asks softly, administering her medication.

“Oh no.” Connie laughs softly and shakes her head, “It’s baby number seven.” She pats her belly gently. Steve nods, a little lost in his own head. A mix of thoughts of the young couple a floor up with no baby to show, his wife laboring without him, and these friendly people working on their seventh baby. “It’s not as bad as you think.” she laughs, catching Steve’s face.

Steve laughs nervously and shakes his head, “oh no. it’s not that.” He smiles softly, “my wife and I wanted around six.” He shrugs, giving her a glass of water.

“You’ve got kids?” She smiles at him and gives his forearm a gentle squeeze as he adjusts her monitors. “You’re so young.”

“Uh… not yet.” He laughs softly and pulls her blanket back up over her. “My wife’s in labor now, actually. Not very far along yet and It’s our first, might have a while to go.” He rambled off nervously.

She smiles at him, a warm and comforting smile, and so does her husband. They remember those days. And Steve does find comfort in that smile. “These things take time.” She says softly, nodding at Steve. “but she’ll know what to do and I know you’ve seen a lot of babies being born but the minute you see yours, everything’s gonna change.” And Steve knows she’s right.

“Thank you.” he says softly. “I’ll be back in to check on you in a little while.” he dims her lights a bit, sighing softly as he steps out of the room and walks over to his station to chart his notes quickly. When he looks up and sees his mother-in-law, that’s when his panic starts to set in. He’s hurrying around the counter, biting the inside of his cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Y/N called asking me to come, Steve.” She laughs, a sound that reminds him of you. “She knows you’re busy.” She gives his arm a pat and smiles at him. “She’s getting close, from what they’ve told her.”

“And she didn’t say anything to me?” Steve frowns, leading her over to your room. His face is knotted up in confusion when he looks over you. Your feet are planted on the floor, leaning over your bed. He sighs softly, knowing he should have been in here. He walks over, standing behind you to rub circles into your lower back.

“This is how we got into this situation.” You joke, face pressed against your sheets.

The response makes Steve chuckle, rolling his eyes, “oh hush. your mother is here.” He mumbles softly, rubbing your hips gently. “Where did they say you’re at, angel?” he asks softly.

“Eight.” You mumble back, letting yourself melt into Steve’s hands. They slide around to your belly, lifting gently and trying to keep the pressure off of your back in between contractions. “What do you think it’s gonna be?” You ask him, turning your head to catch a glimpse of him. You can see the worry etched into his features. But once he sees the way your hair is sticking to your forehead and how flushed and clammy your skin is— he softens.

“A girl.” He says softly. “Gonna be just as pretty as you.” He whispers softly, helping you switch positions and lie back on the bed quietly. Steve’s head perks up as he sees one of his co-workers take a quick peek in. “What’s up?” he mouths over to her. He watches her point down to her belt, signaling to the pager Steve has forgotten.

He sighs and kisses your head once more, rubbing soothing circles onto your arm. “I’ll be right back again, okay sweetheart? Your mama’s here. gonna take care of you while I’m gone.” He says softly and squeezes your hand before he’s ducking out and heading down to the Bear’s room, pushing the cot along quietly.

Connie smiles tiredly, having opted for an epidural at the last stage of her labor. Steve’s ready at her thighs, ready to pop the baby up onto her chest. His own head is occupied with the thought of missing the birth of his own child while he welcomes another into the world. His shift would be over soon and then he’ll be sitting at your bedside, holding your hand and keeping you healthy and happy. Supporting you throughout the entire transition of your labor. Caleb rubs soothing circles on Connie’s arm as she pushes, and Steve takes note of the love in the room. How much the two of them lean on one another.

And Steve’s breath hitches in his throat when he’s reaching over her thighs, with their newborn boy laying on her stomach. He’s helping rub the baby dry, eyes flicking up to the delivering doctor when no one hears any cries for just a few more moments. And Steve whispers, panicked, but full of hope, “oh come on, kid.” No one hears him, but Connie— and her eyes are on him as Steve tries his fucking best to coax a cry out of the baby. Even after suctioning his nose and mouth. He remembers the heartbroken looks on that young couple this morning and he couldn’t take it again.

And finally there’s a sigh of relief when the little one lets out their first big wail. Steve smiles watching as Connie holds their baby to her chest, tears welling up in her eyes. She gives Steve’s hand a squeeze, her face silently thanking him. And then as he’s walking away to fill out a stats card for their baby, Steve hears his name followed by someone shouting time to push. And he’s running. He’ll check back in later, but he’s not missing his baby’s birth. You’ve got the rails of the bed in your hands, gripping tightly as you push— and he’s finding your side and brushing back your hair. “I'm here, angel.” He’s whispering through your tears. “I’m here. Look at you. You’re doing so good, mama.”

And it’s a whole new feeling when Steve hears a cry before he even sees the baby. He can see the blood on your thighs as they lift the baby up to place against your chest. The tears in your eyes are falling as you look up at Steve. And he just presses a kiss against your forehead, sniffling back his own years. “You did it, angel.” he mumbles softly.

“Congratulations.” You hear through your OB’s big smile. “It’s a boy.” And then Steve laughs, his smile pressed against your hair.

“It's a boy.” you repeat, fingers brushing against the back of your baby's fresh soft skin. The quiet grunts coming from him fill the room as he roots around trying to latch onto your breast quietly. “Joseph.” You whisper and turn to look up at Steve, remembering the perfect name the two of you had spent the last eight months curating. “Joseph Steven Harrington.” You announce to your mother quietly. And Steve feels himself tear up a bit.

Nothing has ever felt like this before in his life. And once you’re squared away, he makes sure to thank his coworkers quietly. Appreciating every second of them covering his ass tonight. They all congratulate him for the beautiful baby, passing out hugs and offering advice. And Steve soaks it in, every single word of it. Soaks it in like his life depends on it.

tags ;; @peachyproserpina @eeopxlt