#food truck jesus

[beansnpeets]

Thinking about human behaviour compared to animal behaviour again.

It's funny to hear people (the older gens) complaining that "kids these days are lazy, they don't wanna work, etc." What do we get for busting our asses? There is no reward. Many will never own homes. Many are unemployed, trying to find work, and nobody will hire them because they don't have a million years experience and a masters degree OR they want people to work for minimum wage??? People are giving up because there is no reward. Why would we do all this for nothing?

Same as a dog that won't recall when you haven't reinforced it with a reward. Your dog isn't going to do what you tell it to if there is no incentive. No, your dog SHOULDN'T listen just because you're boss and it should respect you. That isn't how it works. They don't think that way. And honestly neither do people.

When we went hiking Sprocket wasn't always taking treats gently from me when I recalled her or she checked in and I rewarded and my one friend told me to stop giving her treats. I told him I won't work for free so why should she. And he said "I do things for free all the time because I want to do them," and I didn't say it then, but I wish I had, but if you like doing it, that's the incentive. It's a self-rewarding behaviour. Just like anything else a dog does, like chasing a squirrel or sniffing things or getting into the trash. Heeling instead of going off to sniff stuff or recalling off of something they want to chase is something you have to reinforce. You have to give them something better so they make the choice you want them to make. They won't make it just because they *respect* you. They won't willingly recall off of exciting prey out of RESPECT. You need to give them a tangible reward for that. You cannot possibly expect your dog to listen just because and then punish them for disobeying you.

Yeah, Sprocket bit my fingers a couple times. The one time pretty hard. But she was excited. She knows how to take gently and I reminded her and she tried very hard to be gentle most of the time. I wasn't going to stop rewarding her for checking in with me and recalling while we were off leash hiking in the woods. I want her to know that coming back to me is good and in the event of an emergency I would like her to not blow me off.

[skunkes]

Need to get to the point where i can drive by myself, FAST!!!! NEOWWWWW

[undeadvinyls]

NO GUYS spider punk would HATE tswift cavetown mother mother etc. stop putting that shit on character playlists for him

[dawntheduckrb]

Home from my trip, I managed to navigate the city capitol interstate in the dark+rain mostly on my own :D (not without a death grip on my steering wheel the whole time, but that's okay)

Wasn't actually able to take any pictures, which is rare bc I usually come back from trips with at least 20. All I got was a picture of a miniature deck of cards I won in a game and the pretty state welcome sign on my way back in (taken with no other vehicles around me but my dad's, of course) (and theres one of these at every possible entrance to the state so i dont think this really says where i was at). Trip blab in tags but tldr; it was fun :)

[mypositiveoutlooks]

A generous tip of $1K ballooned to $50K when people learned of the taco vendor's dream

A hardworking man in National City got his taquero food truck with the help of a TikToker who made his taco stand to go viral. San Diego is home to a myriad of taco shops but there was one taco stand people did not want to miss out on. It was Blue Fire Bliss, the taco stand owned by Teodoro Jimenez. This was after social media influencer Jesus Morales featured his business on TikTok. TikTok In…

[jungshookz]

jungkook & y/n are too shy to admit they like each other and it's cute but also infuriatingly frustrating

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader // quarterback!jungkook x librarian!y/n 

➺ genre; sfw!! honk honk humour!! soft soft fluff!! indulging in my wattpad-esque clichés!! 

➺ wordcount; 7.3k

➺ summary; as much as you hate having to work on campus over the summer because you’d much rather be tanning on the beach inside of getting progressively paler in the library, you really can’t complain about getting to see a bunch of shirtless, sweaty boys running around on the football field whenever you’re on lunch break… and the fact that one of them is jeon jungkook is certainly an added bonus. 

➺ what to expect; “you know, the next time you have an idea, i’d really appreciate if you ran it by me first before being a dickhead and launching a football right at someone-“

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; whatta man (feat. en vogue) — salt-n-pepa 

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

“yo!” 

“oh, jesus-“ you spin around and let out a breath of relief to see that it’s just jennie, pressing your palm flat against your chest before frowning, “you have got to stop doing that! you know, one of these days, i’m going to accidentally clobber you with a book and it’s not going to be my fault if i give you a concussion-“ 

“oh, please, like you have the hand-eye coordination to actually knock someone out-“ jennie snorts, adjusting the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder before wiggling her brows at you, “you wanna grab some lunch? didn’t your break start, like, ten minutes ago?” 

“yeah, but then i saw edna putting books away and i love her because she reminds me of my grandma but god, it was making me anxious seeing her using the ladder,” you gesture over to the creaky wooden ladder at the end of the aisle, “so i told her i’d put the books away for her before i took my break.” 

“you work too hard at a job that pays you too little,” jennie purses her lips, glancing down at your cart before grabbing the handle and pushing it forward, “you can come back and finish it! it’s not like the school is going to fall apart if you don’t put a few books back in the next hour-“ 

“well, i just- jennie- you’re not authorised to touch the cart-“ you press your lips together when you realise that you probably aren’t going to change her mind (you know you won’t) and put the book in your hand away in its place on the shelf before nodding contently, “okay, fine. we can go for lunch, but i’m coming back early to finish the job-“

“yes, yes, don’t worry, i won’t keep you for long-“ jennie teases, looping her arm through yours as the two of you head back towards the front desk so you can grab your bag, “my favourite food truck is back this week and i was thinking about those chilli oil dumplings the whole time i was in class- i honest to god couldn’t even tell you what we talked about today-“

“ooh, i want chilli oil dumplings!” you gasp, energy levels shooting up at the mention of food, “i’m gonna ask if they can give me an extra container of their dipping sauce… how was class?” 

“eh, it was alright,” jennie shrugs with a shoulder, letting go of you so you can dip behind the desk to grab your phone and your wallet from your bag, “kinda hate the fact that i have to take summer classes to catch up on my credits, but whatever-“

“maybe if you spent less time with your tongue down taehyung’s throat all semester, then you wouldn’t have to take summer courses…” you tease lightly, jennie’s cheeks flushing bright red before she rolls her eyes and scoffs, “oh, don’t look at me like that! you know it’s true-“

“you’re just jealous because you’ve been wanting to stick your tongue down jungkook’s throat all semester but you’re too much of a wuss to do anything about it-“

“jennie!”

“you know it’s true-“ jennie mocks, and you scowl before reaching over to pinch her arm playfully, laughing lightly when she wraps her arms around herself and starts to make out with the air, “oh, jungkook, wrap your big, strong arms around me-“ 

“okay, point taken, you lunatic-“ 

taehyung and jennie have been dating for the last eight months — they met because jennie’s on the cheerleading squad and taehyung’s on the football team and jungkook is one of his team members — which means that you’ve known of jungkook for the last eight months but yes, it’s true that you’ve been too much of a wuss to do anything about it 

can anyone blame you, though?? jungkook is just so, painfully attractive with his lopsided, boyish grin and pretty eyes and structured jawline and you certainly don’t have any complaints about the sleeve of tattoos he has 

to be perfectly honest, you think you can keep it pretty cool even when you’re around people you find attractive, but there’s just something about jungkook that makes you uncharacteristically nervous 

like clammy palms and cottonmouth and endless rambling level of nervous 

you’d just hate to embarrass yourself in front of him because he seems a little too good to be true and it makes you want to present yourself as someone who is also on that level… which, of course, is a lot of pressure and has resulted in you spending the last eight months either hiding behind jennie’s back or sitting on the bleachers scrolling through your phone or thumbing through a book while waiting for her to finish up with taehyung whenever you’re on the field in order to avoid jungkook

you haven’t spoken to him too often, but he smiles at you every time he sees you and you smile back and give a wave if you’re feeling a little more brave

other than that, you really haven’t had many conversations with him 

“i just don’t understand why you won’t let taehyung set you guys up on a date,” jennie frowns, “like- you literally have inside access to the man and you’re still not making a move-“

“because if taehyung sets us up, then jungkook will feel obligated to go out with me because i’m his best friend’s girlfriend’s best friend- wait- best friend’s… girlfriend’s… best… friend…“ you pause for a second to make sure you got that right before nodding to yourself, “yeah! and- i don’t know, if the date doesn’t go well, then it’d just be awkward-“

“your wussy nature is holding you back, y/n-“ jennie tsks, and you’re about to defend yourself but you feel your tummy do a flip when you realise that you guys are approaching the field (you usually cut across because it’s a shortcut to the food truck) and you hear the familiar sound of grunting and whistling, “this feels like a canon event, so i’m just gonna let you figure it out… but i’ll tell you right now that jungkook is a hot, hot target for a lot of people on campus and i can literally get you a date in 0.1 seconds, so… just keep that in mind!”

“what do you want from me??” you puff your cheeks out, “he makes me nervous, i can deal with this crush in whichever way i want-“

“baby!” 

both you and jennie look over to see taehyung heading over with a bright grin, the man clearly excited to see his girlfriend

“speaking of a very attractive person-“ jennie giggles, waving at him as she unloops her arm with yours and picks up her pace

you stay at the same pace as you follow her trail, keeping a polite smile on your face as you watch your friend run up to the love of her life

“there you are, i was wondering when you’d come around-“ jennie lets out a squeal when taehyung swoops her up in sweaty, damp-jersey hug before plopping her back down on the ground and giving her a kiss, “hi, y/n-“

“hi, taehyung-“ you laugh lightly, nodding towards him in acknowledgement as you stand at an appropriate distance away from the happy couple, “nice to see you again in all your sweaty glory.” 

“nice to see you again in all your-“ taehyung gestures to you with a teasing smile, “librarian glory. how’s the summer job treating you?” 

“i’m getting paler by the minute and i’m starting to forget how to talk to people like a normal human being.” you joke, “you never stop by!! i’d be more than happy to give you some books to read if you ever take a break from training-“ 

“respectfully, those books would collect dust on my shelf-“ 

“we were talking about jungkook earlier-” jennie interrupts taehyung, reaching up to pat his chest with a giggle, “and how much y/n looooves him-” 

“jennie…” you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully — as much as you adore jennie, sometimes you just wished she wasn’t as stubborn because once she has her sights set on something, she’ll do practically anything to reach her goal 

and her new goal (the previous one was to cuff taehyung, which was an obvious success) is to set you up with jungkook because it’s painfully obvious how huge of a crush you have on him 

“oh shit, you wanna say hi to him?” taehyung grins mischievously, turning back slightly to look over his shoulder, “okay, lemme see if i can get your husband’s attention-“

“woah, wait-“ your eyes widen in panic and you lick over your lips before shaking your head frantically, “i don’t- we were just gonna get lunch, i don’t think-“ 

“yo, kook!” taehyung hollers, holding a hand up before sticking his fingers into his mouth to whistle loudly, “jeon jungkoooook!“ he waves his arm wildly to get jungkook’s attention before stepping aside so that he’s not blocking the view

you feel your entire mouth go dry as soon as taehyung steps aside, your eyes immediately being graced with the sight of a tanned, shirtless jungkook dunking a bottle of ice cold water over the top of his head before shaking it off, tendrils of hair falling perfectly into place as he tosses his head back

he opens his mouth as he pours the last few drops of water into into it before crushing the plastic bottle against his chest with one hand and tossing the flattened piece of plastic into the recycling bin, the bottle bouncing off the rim of the bin before falling into it

jungkook reaches up to run his fingers through his hair as he spins back around and jogs back to join the others, his chest bouncing with every step and oh my god, you need to close your mouth before a fly buzzes right on in 

droplets of water seem to glisten against his sun kissed complexion, and you find yourself letting out a breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding when he turns around and gives you a very generous view of his toned back tapering down into what you can really only describe as a slutty little waist 

good lord 

“…is he moving in slow motion?” your voice wavers slightly as the question stumbles out of your mouth, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the lenses of your glasses start to fog up because of the heat radiating from your face right now 

“jungkook!”

jungkook looks over his shoulder when taehyung calls for him again and you certainly don’t miss the way his biceps flex when he reaches up to adjust the bandana tied around his left arm 

“get over here, bro!” taehyung gestures for him to come over and jungkook shoots him a thumbs up

“one sec, lemme dry off!” jungkook responds, pointing over to the benches where all their duffle bags are, “hi, jennie!”

“hi, jungkook!” jennie waves back before holding a hand over her eyes to shield herself from the sun before turning around to look at you, “oh my god, you are so in love with him-“ 

“oh, i am not-“ your cheeks flush and you shrink down a little, reaching up to rub the back of your neck, “i just- he’s-“

“we’d be honoured to speak at your guys’ wedding, by the way-“ taehyung smirks, and you hate the way that jennie has one to match with his, the two of them very clearly enjoying how much of an effect jungkook has on you 

they certainly are the perfect couple 

a match made in hell 

“hey, guys!” 

you quickly stand up a little straighter when you see jungkook jogging over, and you almost wonder if the universe is just testing you today when he slides a raw-hemmed crop top over his head, the cut-off sleeves making his arms look more biteable than they already do, “it’s a beautiful day out, thanks for coming out to say hi-“ 

“oh, of course! y/n and i were just gonna grab lunch-“

“hey, specs-“ jungkook flashes you the same crooked grin that makes your heart skip multiple beats in your chest and you know it’s only a nickname but you can’t help but feel a little giddy over the fact that he even gave you one in the first place (he complimented your glasses the first time you met), “those new?” 

“these?” you reach up to adjust the wire-rimmed oval shaped frames sitting on the bridge of your nose, “yeah, i just- i accidentally sat on my old pair and i figured i’d just get a new set- thought i’d try a different style, so…“ 

“i like ‘em! very 90s, really cute-“ jungkook reaches over and flicks your glasses upwards a little, grin widening when he sees the blush spread across your cheeks

“thank you!” you clear your throat when your voice cracks a little and you adjust your glasses slightly before offering him a meek little smile, “i like your crop top. also very 90s of you and really cute-“ 

“you know what else is cute?” jennie interrupts, and you’re about to stop her from saying anything that’s going to embarrass you further (it’s her favourite thing to do and she claims she does it out of love and also to build character), “food, because i am starving. y/n and i were on our way to grab some food — did you boys want anything from the dumpling truck?” 

“ooh, maybe grab one of those scallion pancakes for me for after practice??” taehyung swings an arm around jennie’s shoulder, “if i eat one now i’m definitely going to blow chunks mid-tackle.” 

“and i’ll be the one having chunks blown on them because we’re partners for tackle practice…” jungkook shudders, crossing his arms over his chest, “i’m good though, thanks for the offer!” 

“alright! well, if no one else has anything else to add to this conversation-“ jennie looks over at you and gives you a little look that you know translates to please, for the love of god, make a move only for you to purse your lips and shake your head no, “…okay! one scallion pancake for tae-“

“kook, you got anything to add?” taehyung looks over at jungkook and jungkook shakes his head no as well, frowning a little when taehyung gives him a look that he’s not sure what message is being expressed with, “…okay. one scallion pancake for me, i guess.” 

“we’ll let you two get back to it! i’ll see you in a bit, baby-” jennie pops a quick kiss on taehyung’s cheek before joining your side again and looping her arm through yours, “don’t lose too many brain cells during practice!”

“can’t lose any if you didn’t have any to start with-“ jungkook chimes in, dodging a punch on the arm before letting out a cackle and going into a full sprint when taehyung suddenly lunges at him, “see you later, jennie! bye, specs!” 

“‘bye, specs-‘“ jennie quotes, nudging your side as the two of you continue your trek, “you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s not a little into you-“ 

“my theory is that he knows i’m very into him and it makes his ego feel good so he just acts in ways that’ll make me all flustered so that-“

“okay, i’m gonna stop you right there and i’m going to say this out of love and also because i know you and i know the way you think, but i know for a fact that you think jungkook is out of your league and that’s what’s making you shrivel up into such a wimpy little shrimp whenever he’s in close proximity-“

“wha-“ 

“at the end of the day, jungkook is literally just a man.” jennie tsks, shrugging with one shoulder, “if he doesn’t like you, it would clearly be his loss because you’re a beautiful, loyal, witty, well-educated baddie-“

“you sound like such a cheerleader right now-“ 

“-but also he very clearly likes you so obviously he has his priorities right and a solid head on his shoulders-“ she spins over to stand in front of you, grabbing both your shoulders and giving you a shake, “stop getting into your own head. he is just a man. if it’s not him, it’s not the end of the world. if you don’t try, the answer is always gonna be no.” 

“…i don’t like how well you know me.” 

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

you’ve spent so much time in the library this summer that you’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be in the sun — lucky for you, it was a slow day at the library and one of your co-workers came in a little early before his shift and very generously offered to cover for you, meaning that you could join jennie on the bleachers for lunch and actually sit and bask in the sun inside of buying lunch and hustling back to the library like you usually do 

“c’mon, fellas, you can do better than that!” 

the sound of the whistle blowing makes you peel an eye open as you look down towards the field, a smile twitching at the corner of your mouth when you hear taehyung letting out a groan before collapsing dramatically on the floor 

your eyes wander over to jungkook, watching as he readjusts his bandana around his head to keep the hair out of his eyes 

he claps his hands together and crouches down slightly before gesturing for taehyung to come at him, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration and his jaw clenched slightly 

“are you listening to me or are you too busy drooling over jungkook?”

“i’m listening, i’m listening…” you let out a sigh of contentment, letting warm rays of sun wash over your skin as you lean back against the bleachers with your elbows on the steps and your head tilted back slightly 

you swear you’re a good friend and a great listener, but jennie’s been babbling on and on about something for the last ten minutes and you’re starting to zone out a little bit 

“i mean, seriously… how hard is it to slap a couple of sentences onto a slide and make it work? this is why i hate group projects, and i especially hate the summer school students because they’re just so damn lazy and no one ever puts in the work and then there’s always one person who ends up having to do everything and everyone still gets credit for it!” jennie scoffs, chewing on her straw with a scowl, “it’s due tomorrow and half of my group mates haven’t uploaded their slides yet-“

“well, didn’t you say you haven’t uploaded yours yet either?” you frown, raising a hand to block the sun from your eyes before squinting a little

jennie pauses, pursing her lips in thought, “…yes, but i’m just waiting to see what they’re going to do before i upload mine-“

“then maybe they’re doing the same thing and all of you are just wasting each other’s time?” you suggest with a weak shrug, reaching over to pick up your drink and take a sip (it’s a strawberry lemonade slushie and it was the perfect choice for this lovely summer afternoon)

“you know, as my best friend, you’re supposed to have my back and this just feels like a personal attack-“ 

“jennie, baby!” both you and jennie look out towards the field to see taehyung waving his arms around wildly, “check it out, check out how far i can throw the ball! i’m gonna get it right into the goal, you watch me-” he backs up a few steps before drawing his right arm back and throwing the football in one sharp-

“mine!” jungkook leaps up into the air all of a sudden and catches it swiftly, hugging the football to his chest before dashing off into a sprint towards the goal posts, “lunch is on you if i get this goal-“

“what the-“ taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “you little shit, get back here!” he snaps, chasing after him and pouncing on his back before jungkook can get to the goal 

the two of them tumble to the ground, jungkook letting out a grunt as he lets go of the football and lets it roll away 

“you so did that just to get y/n’s attention.” taehyung huffs, wincing as he stares up at the sky, “jesus, i am not made for tackling, i have no idea how i made it onto the team-“ 

“because you’re the fastest runner and- also, i did not do that just to get y/n’s attention-“

“okay, mr. quarterback, your job is to throw or hand the ball off and i just find it funny that you stopped practicing that as soon as you realised y/n was in the bleachers- there are other ways to get her attention.”

“i wasn’t doing it for attention!” jungkook props himself up onto his elbows with a frown before pursing his lips and tilting his head a little, “…is she looking at us, though?”

“she’s talking to jennie.” taehyung snorts, getting back up onto his feet and picking the ball up before holding a hand out for jungkook, “you wanna get her attention? because i have a little idea.”

“what’s your- taehyung, wait-“ 

“did you still wanna watch barbie together this weekend?” you turn to look over at jennie as you bring your cup back up to your mouth for a sip (your drink is starting to turn into a warm, strawberry lemonade syrupy soup and it’s not very pleasant), “or are you seeing that with tae?” 

“well, i was thinking we could actually do a little double date situation if you’re up to it…” jennie grins, reaching over to swat your knee, “it’s a movie date! it’s like two hours of being in a dark room with jungkook sitting next to you and you won’t have to make conversation, you’re gonna be fine-“

“well yeah, but then after the movie’s over we’re probably gonna go get food and-“

“incoming!”

“wha- oh!” you yelp in surprise when a football lands on you out of nowhere, the cap on your drink popping open and subsequently making you spill it on yourself as you get up frantically, “oh, god…” you set your cup down on the metal steps as you look down at your soaked tank top and jeans, the sweet-sticky fragrance of strawberry lemonade invading your nostrils 

“aw, it’s on my bag!” jennie scowls, looking at the two droplets of pink staining the cream of her tote bag with a frown, “this artificial pink is gonna take forever to wash out-“

“yeah, tell me about it-“ you wince, shaking your hands off as you continue analysing the mess

it’s quite literally all over your tank top and lap and you don’t have a spare top or pants with you, so the only plan you have right now is to book it to the campus bookstore and buy an overpriced t-shirt 

you hate to admit it but it looks like you pissed your pants big time, so maybe you’ll have to buy a pair of overpriced basketball shorts too 

“are you fucking kidding me??? that was your idea of- oh my god, you dumbass-” jungkook snaps, turning to look at taehyung incredulously before sprinting over to the bleachers 

“hey, it got her attention!”

jungkook wipes his clammy hands on his jersey as he dashes up the steps two at a time until he gets to you and jennie, feeling his cheeks burn slightly when he sees you standing there soaked in your drink and obviously not knowing what to do 

“shit, y/n, i’m sorry-“ jungkook bends down to pick up the football before it can roll down the steps, “i’m so sorry, i was supposed to catch that but taehyung’s aim seems to be a little off this afternoon-“ he turns his head for a second to shoot a glare at taehyung, who is very leisurely making his way up the stairs as if he didn’t just pelt you with a football and make you waste your drink

“i’m fine! don’t worry about it, i’m fine-“ you laugh lightly, shaking your hands off and peeling your tank top from your stomach slightly, already feeling gross from how sticky everything is against your skin, “good throw, tae-“ 

“thank you! i have to say it was one of my best throws, if i’m being honest.” taehyung wiggles his brows, plucking the ball from jungkook’s arm before swooping down to give jennie a kiss, “you two enjoying the sun?” 

“we were, until that happened-“ jennie reaches up to pinch taehyung’s cheek, “your aim must be horrible if the football landed in the bleachers.” she raises an eyebrow and gives him a look that tells him that she knows he did that on purpose, because of course he would do something like this on purpose 

“i have a spare jersey and shorts in my bag, i can go get that for you right now-“ 

“oh, jungkook, you really don’t have to do-“ you don’t get a chance to finish before jungkook is dashing down the steps and you puff your cheeks out before looking down at yourself again, “i… should probably go rinse this off-“ 

“rinsing that off in the sink isn’t going to get the pink out.” taehyung snorts, “i’ve had that strawberry lemonade before. the pink food-dye they use is potent. if you took an x-ray right now, all of your organs would be neon pink-” 

“great, that’s great to know- lemme head to the washroom now-“ 

“i’ll come with-“ jennie’s ears prickle slightly when she hears the familiar sound of the sprinklers turning on (they’ve turned on automatically many times whenever the squad is practicing on the field) and a lightbulb appears at the top of her head before her lips turn up in a devious grin, “there is a faster way to clean you off, actually. tae, can you go check on the spare clothes for y/n?” 

taehyung narrows his eyes slightly before nodding slowly, turning on his heel and hopping down the steps to go back to jungkook 

“you think i should go to the changing rooms instead to take a shower?” you sigh, wincing as you squeeze out excess pink syrup from your shirt and let it drip onto the concrete 

and now you got some on your shoes too, so that’s just great

“well, the changing rooms are too far!“ jennie’s tone is suspiciously cheery, and before you know it she has a firm grip on your wrist is yanking you down the steps like her own little ragdoll before she whips around the corner under the archway 

“what are you doing?” you frown, watching as she unravels the massive hose and makes sure the nozzle is on securely 

“jungkook’s bringing you a change of clothes anyway, so i’m sure you won’t mind if i-“ 

you barely process what the hell is going on before you’re suddenly being blasted with a hose, another yelp of surprise slipping past your lips before you hold your arms up to dodge the aggressive spray of water directly aimed at you 

“jennie!”

“you know, the next time you have an idea, i’d really appreciate if you ran it by me first before being a dickhead and launching a football right at someone-“

“well, it got her attention, didn’t it? and now she’s about to wear your clothes, so like- i don’t really see what the big issue is here.” taehyung sighs, standing with his hands on his hips as jungkook digs through his duffle bag for his spare set of clothes

he only has one set so he’s not sure what he’s going to wear after practice today, but maybe he can get away with spraying himself with a lot of deodorant after he takes a nice hot shower 

or he could steal taehyung’s clothes considering the fact he caused the spillage in the first place 

“you could’ve hurt them or something! what if that football had landed on her head and given her a concussion?” 

“you clearly underestimate my impeccable aim. if i wanted to knock y/n out, i would’ve knocked her ass out in one shot-“ taehyung scoffs, walking alongside jungkook as the two of them start trudging across the field back towards where you and jennie are

“and where am i even supposed to go from here, huh?” jungkook frowns, “ooh, she spilled her drink all over herself and now she has to wear my clothes-“

 

“clothes that she’ll have to return to you at some point, prompting another sweet but heinously short conversation between the two of you- do you even realise how frustrating it is for me, as your best friend, to watch you clearly be into a girl and not know how to act around her when you could literally cough and make, like, ten people cream their pants-“

“eugh- hate that imagery-“ 

“well, it’s true!”

“nobody is going to cream their- what the-” jungkook stops in his tracks and holds a hand out to stop taehyung when they get close enough to see jennie literally hosing you down 

“there you go, girl!” jennie laughs, raising the hose upwards so that the water is raining down on you, “get into it! get that strawberry lemonade outta your clothes-“ 

jungkook watches slack-jawed as you run both hands through your hair to slick it back, your tank top glued and scrunched up to the upper half of your abdomen and oh my god, you have a little tattoo on your hip and that is insanely attractive to him 

“wait, this was actually such a good idea!” you grin, tilting your head up and clearly enjoying the water raining down on you, “helps with the heat, too-“ 

“see? all you have to do is listen to me and you’ll be happy!” jennie lowers the pressure of the water so that it turns into a light mist and you let out a laugh, swiping the water off your face before looking down to see if the stains are out of your clothes 

“holy shit.” jungkook whispers to himself, his grip squeezing and loosening around the clothes he has fisted in his hand 

his entire mouth has gone dry and all of a sudden he also feels the need to be blasted with some cold water to snap out of it 

“is my mascara running?”

“yeah, but it’s giving, like, sexy raccoon, you know?”

“you might wanna put that away, bud.” jungkook grunts as taehyung jabs his elbow into his side and he turns his head to frown at him 

“ow- what are you talking about?” 

the smile grows on taehyung’s face before he presses his lips together to hold it back, “i’m talking about the fact that if you turned to face me right now you would jab me in the thigh.” 

“jab you in the-“ jungkook looks down, eyes widening and the blood immediately draining from his face (obviously, because all the blood is heading down south) before he hands the spare clothes over to tae and yanks the towel off his shoulder to cover himself up, “oh my god, fuck-“ 

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

“bye bye, you two!”

“thank you for the clothes, jungkook! i’ll wash them before i give them back to you-“ 

“no problem! bye… bye…” jungkook waves at you and jennie as the two of you walk off, reaching for his water bottle blindly as a fond smile sits on his face 

you look awfully cute in his clothes, that’s all

“you looooooove y/n,” taehyung sings, snatching the water bottle from him with a laugh, “you love her you love her you love her you-“

“oh, cut it out-“ jungkook scowls, reaching for another bottle of water from the pack and twisting the cap off with a crack, “you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“yeah, alright, specs.” taehyung snorts, rolling his eyes playfully, “remind me again why you haven’t asked her out yet? you know she’s into you. and you’re clearly into her.” 

“i just-“ jungkook clears his throat quietly before taking a small sip of water, “i don’t know… flirting is fun and short and easy and i’m just… worried that maybe she won’t like me as much when we’re together and alone for like, three hours on a date.” 

“are you nervous to go out with y/n?” taehyung asks incredulously, eyes widening in what seems to be a mixture of shock and joy, “are you shitting me right now? jeon jungkook is scared to ask someone out on a date because he’s worried they won’t like him-“

“it’s a legitimate fear! i’m allowed to be anxious about it-“

“i never said you weren’t allowed to be anxious about it, i’m just saying that you’re jeon jungkook and you have people lining up for you around the block twenty four hours of the day, seven days a week!” taehyung gives him a hearty slap on the back before swooping an arm around his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards the bleachers, “you think those girls over there are here to actually sit and have lunch?”

jungkook looks over at the clusters of girls scattered around the bleachers, each friend group chatting away and picking at their lunches

“well, they’re not just here for me,” jungkook shakes his head, gesturing to the guys all over the field, “it’s a fuckin’ sausage fest out here, they’re here for everyone-“

“but you’re the only one who can fulfil the hot quarterback boyfriend fantasy.” taehyung jabs a finger into his chest with a grin before reaching down to pat his bare abdomen, “and you’re one of the only single guys left. you’re the belle of the ball, baby.” 

jungkook looks back over at the people on the bleachers, shooting the girls a friendly smile and a nod of acknowledgement when he notices them staring at them 

they burst into fits of giggles, jungkook tilting his head with a cheeky grin and shaking his head again 

he doesn’t know if this is going to be douchebaggy of him to think, but he likes making people flustered!! it’s always fun to see their reactions 

he likes making you flustered in particular, because there’s just something about your reaction that’s just so damn adorable 

sometimes you roll your eyes, sometimes you snort, sometimes you avert your gaze immediately and rub the back of your neck — but he loves the way your eyes widen slightly before your cheeks get rosy

“y/n’s really cool. she’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s funny, she’s educated, she can hold a conversation-“ taehyung clicks his tongue, “and she has that sexy librarian thing going on if you’re into that- which, by the way, is something that jennie told me to mention to you whenever i try to market y/n off to you-“ 

“i know she is!” jungkook nods, “and i know she does, and i’m definitely into it, i just- ah, i don’t know. maybe i should ask her out.” 

“maybe, maybe not…” taehyung raises an eyebrow, “no pressure! it’s whatever if you decide not to, because i can hook y/n up with namjoon or something-“

“hey, hey, no need for such drastic measures,” jungkook frowns, reaching over to give taehyung a punch on the arm, “…alright, fine. i’ll ask her out.”

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

“so, you’re going to find that in the historical fiction aisle-“ you lean over the counter a little and point to the back, “it’s all the way in the back right to your left. you can’t miss it, the label’s going to be right on the front of the bookshelf.” 

“alright, thank you so much.”

“no problem, let me know if you need any help finding anything else.” you smile politely, reaching up to adjust your frames before turning back to look at- “jungkook!” 

your eyes widen in surprise and you’re suddenly happy that edna asked you to stay at the front desk to help people when she already knows you always prefer the lowkey jobs

you haven’t seen jungkook in about a week and a bit (you’ve been pretty busy at the library and there’s just not enough time in your lunch breaks to make the long journey across the football field) but you’re pleasantly surprised to see him here

though… it is just the two of you now, without taehyung and jennie as buffers, so… good luck? 

“hey, specs,” jungkook flashes you a lopsided grin before looking around, shoving both his hands into the pockets of his varsity jacket, “god, it’s cold in here, no wonder you’re always wearing jeans in the dead of summer.” 

“oh, yeah-“ you snort, looking down at your jeans, “i- well, we have to keep the library at a certain temperature because it’s good for the books but- i’m sure you’re not here to listen to me talking about how to keep books in pristine condition- did taehyung give you your clothes back? thank you so much for lending them to me, by the way. you’re a lifesaver.”

“yeah, yeah! no worries, hah- sorry i, uh- disappeared for a bit, i just… had to help coach with something, so i gave the clothes to tae and… yeah.” jungkook clears his throat and averts his gaze when you offer him a smile 

“so… can i help you find anything?” 

“well, i actually-“ jungkook chokes a little when he looks back up to see you looking right at him, your pretty eyes sparkling behind your glasses as your lashes bat ever so slightly, “first i just wanted to say sorry again for the slushie incident, i guess i just underestimated how far taehyung could throw a ball-“ 

“oh, god, really, don’t worry about it-“ 

“okay! in that case, i- uh… i just wanted to…” jungkook doesn’t know why his brain always seems to blank out at the most inconvenient of times but he supposes it’s a character development thing, “book!” 

…

book. 

he feels himself deflate slightly at how much of a himbo he’s probably making himself seem and he puffs his cheeks out as he thinks about how the hell he can recover from whatever that was 

for the record, he’s usually very good at asking people out 

like, very good 

he’s just a little out of his element!!! the library is your territory and he doesn’t know if he’s being too loud or if he should speak louder and also there’s a queue forming behind him so now he’s just anxious and he feels like he’s wasting everyone’s time and also if you say no that’s just going to be flat out embarrassing and the people behind him are probably going to tell their friends that there was a guy at the library who asked the front desk girl out and she said no and i felt kinda bad for him and-

“you wanted to… book?” you repeat, the corners of your mouth turning up in a slight smile, “well, you’re certainly in the right place for that.” 

“actually, i didn’t want to book- i mean, i didn’t want a book, i wanted to ask you something-“ 

“oh, sure! you’re also in the right place for that-“ you gesture to where you’re standing behind the desk with a light laugh, “what can i help you with?” 

“do you wanna watch the barbie movie with me this weekend?” jungkook forces the question out before he chickens out, and he stands up a little straighter to feign confidence, “with me… and tae and jennie, because they wanted to watch it too. but we don’t have to share our popcorn and nachos with them, they can get their own snacks.” 

jungkook counts one, two, three seconds before he decides that you are definitely about to turn him down, and he automatically starts sorting through the many lines of dialogue in his brain in response to your inevitable rejection

no worries, have a good one! 

okay, goodbye!

anyways, book time for me! 

“yes!” you respond almost as soon as he’s about to open his mouth and take his offer back (thank god), and jungkook tries to hide his excitement but it’s hard when he sees that you’re also trying your best to hide the megawatt smile creeping its way onto your face, “i- no, yeah, that would be great! i was gonna go regardless but being the third wheel is never fun, so it’d be fun to go with… you. and jennie and taehyung.” 

jungkook gives himself a mental pat on the back, feeling himself revert back into his normal, confident ways all of a sudden 

aha

you said yes 

you like him (and he likes u) 

nice 

“oh, sick! alright, cool-“ jungkook clears his throat, nodding to himself, “yeah, cool, cool. okay, then i guess i will see you… this weekend. or whatever.” 

“or whatever.” you tease, shrugging with one shoulder, “sounds good, jungkook.” 

“okay, well- practice starts in a bit so- see ya, specs-“ jungkook raises his arm to wave only to realise his hand is still in his pocket, and he quickly yanks it out to give you a proper wave as he heads towards the doors 

he lets out a breath of relief, his shoulders loosening up a little and he nods to himself with a proud smile 

“that wasn’t as bad as i thought it’d be.” taehyung chirps right as jungkook walks out the doors, bending down to swoop his bag up off the ground and hand it back to him, “that was worse than i thought it was going to be. jesus christ, man. what the hell was that??” 

“hey, she still said yes!” jungkook frowns, feeling his face turning red from humiliation because he doesn’t even know what the hell that was 

if the roles were reversed he would fully be laughing his ass off at taehyung too 

“she must really be into you if she said yes to watching the barbie movie with me and tae and jennie and they can get their own snacks and-“ taehyung laughs, “my god, it’s like you left all your rizz at the front door-“ 

“she said yes and that’s all that matters!”

🎙️ tease jungkook and y/n for both being little wussies (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[itiswormtimebaby]

Here’s what I’m thinking about: 

Biker!Bucky (who also happen to be your brothers best friend) fucking your thighs. 

TW: 18+ oral (fem receiving), pussy job, thigh job, virgin reader (Bucky is very into it), no piv No YN, Reader is referred to as Bug and is described as being plus size but there are no other physical descriptors. Takes place after Biker!Bucky comforts you when you get way too high. 

Things had shifted after that blessedly damned brownie but despite all the begging you’d done for Bucky to finally split you open and take you apart on his cock he was valiant in his efforts to take it slow. Slow somehow including licking into your mouth at the back of a movie theater while two knuckles deep, having you ride his thigh at the food truck festival, and spending countless hours in bed between your spread thighs. 

It’s where you are now, the soft cotton of Bucky’s bedspread dampening under your sweat soaked skin, his tongue working sinful circles over your swollen nub causing you to clench, almost painfully, down on the two fingers he’s currently working you open on. 

And jesus fuck there’s enough slick dripping past them and onto your thighs for him to drown in; he’d happily go that way, buried face first in the creamy mess you’ve left just for him. 

Alternatively you could just smother him with your thighs, fuck, your thighs- his brain feels like mush as he turns his head just enough to begin placing wet open mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your right thigh, laving and nipping at each stretch mark as he moves across them, furthering wetting his face with you as he does so. He grunts as you pull particularly hard at his hair, arching your back and trying to redirect his mouth to your clit but he ignores you as he begins to lick long stripes across the meat of your thighs, tasting musk and salt and something unconventionally sweet. 

This could be the day, he thinks, your mewls going straight to his dick. He could finally fuck you open, carve out that space inside he now knows you’ve been saving just for him, claim you but- 

“Bu-u-ucky!” Your whine sounds nearly petulant, still wiggling to try and get his mouth back on you, “please!” But no, no  you’re not ready yet. 

Instead he sits back on his haunches, watching for a moment as his fingers disappear and reappear as he fucks you with them, each thrust a little harder than the last before his hands find their way up your body, spreading slick across the ample swell of your stomach before he’s cupping your face and half pulling your upper body off the bed to meet him in a filthy open mouthed kiss. 

“Let’s try something new, Bug.” 

You release a soft oomph as he pushes you back on the bed with little ceremony, back flat. You rub your thighs together in sweet anticipation, the sound of his belt buckle coming undone making you whimper, this could be it, this could be it, this could be- 

But no, instead of pressing the spongy head of his cock inside of you he uses it to circle your clit, thumb guiding it around and around before he begins to languidly thrust his cock through the messy lips of your gushing pussy. The flat length of it provides a friction like you’ve never felt before, your gasps and moans joining in with Bucky’s labored breathing each time the tip nudges your clit on each up stroke. After a few minutes of this, of clenching painfully around nothing, awareness only awarded to the pleasure he gives you and the pain he causes by leaving you empty inside, he pushes both of your thighs up to rest on your plush stomach and begins to fuck them. 

There’s no other way to describe it. Bucky is fucking your thighs, he’s gripping them painfully tight, pushing them together, and driving his length in and out between them, plenty lubricated by the slick that continues to escape you. The tip of his cock still manages to kiss your clit at each stroke. You're delirious with pleasure, keening and moaning and raking your nails down whatever bit of inked skin you can reach, and though his cock feels like heaven between your thighs it’s his voice that ultimately sends you over; 

“Fuck, Bug” he rasps “Fuck, Bug, you feel so good, my beautiful girl- my-Fuck”

His dark hair is limp against his forehead, plastered to it by his own sweat, and his mouth, that sinful mouth is still glistening with proof of his devotion to your pleasure as he continues to talk you through it.

“If it feels this good now just- fuck, just think about when I’ve got you stuffed full of my cock. Christ, I can’t wait, I’m going to fucking ruin you, Bug.” 

With one particularly hard nudge from the head of his cock to your clit you let go with a cry, something that vaguely sounds like his name and has him also reaching his end, painting the messy lips of your pussy white with his cum. 

[vaaaaaiolet]

This summer, you're a swimming instructor. The cute lifeguard that rescued you from drowning in the deep end of the pool last week invites you out for a romp on the beach and you end up getting a little in your head.

Lucky for you, Leon's a dab hand at his job. Especially for you, even if he's off duty.

f / m, fluff, romance, body image issues, banter, tw: eating issues, reader is awkward and body conscious :( but leon is a sweetheart and a TOTAL flirt, slight?? afab nsfw

a/n: title from "my fun" by suki waterhouse! i'm finally reaching the end of my manic writing streak, and since summer's in full swing, you all better know that you look STUNNING no matter what!! your incredible support means the world to me <3

this fic belongs to sketches for my sweetheart the drunk, a collection of bite-sized fics to stretch out my writing muscles :) i hope you enjoy!

word count: 662 // read on ao3

Can’t do it, nope.

You skitter back under the shade of an umbrella blooming on the beach. The water’s beautiful today. Incessant little waves lap at your feet, coaxing you into the turquoise coast. 

The sinking feeling in your stomach outweighs any of its appeal.

He spots you on his way back from his truck. You’re swaddled in a towel big enough for the both of you, buried in a book that you find super interesting (once you turn it right side up), and just as you get into the nitty gritty of how to win friends and influence people, your reading gets swiped up from right under your nose. “Hey!” 

Leon blinks innocently, twisting his wrist to read the cover, “You’re into this kinda stuff?”

“It’s how I’m so winning,” you cross your arms over your stomach, whatareyousaying?, “and influential. To people.”

“To people.” He repeats.

“Uh huh.”

Way to go. If the cute lifeguard didn’t think you were weird for asking if he knew how to swim, he’s definitely going to think you’re weird now. What kind of swimming instructor doesn’t swim at the beach?

And as you think you’ve screwed it all up with the only cute guy who’s asked you out all summer, Leon just chuckles, hunkering down on the sand next to you. “You’re influential, I’ll give you that. Maybe I’ll put my swimming off until later too.”

So Leon saves you again, like he did at the deep end of the pool last week.

“Toss me something from the cooler?” he asks.

He shucks off his shirt, revealing a set of well-earned abs. Jesus, they ripple, they’re waves. You’d happily take a surfboard to his six-pack. 

Sadly, you settle for handing him a Coke instead.  

“Is something the matter?” he asks after a bit. Leon almost sounds shy, his cheeks a sunkissed pink to match as he sips.

You shake your head no as winningly as possible.

“Are you sick? Cramping?” Oh, he’s a sweetheart, “‘Cause we can go anywhere you want. I just thought since you teach swimming…” His fingers inch towards your towel-covered thigh. 

“Seriously,” you laugh, “it’s not a big deal, you go swim.”

“Really? Cause I’m thinking the pretty girl I finally convinced to go to the beach with me is going to run the other way the minute I turn my back.”

Your face sears with heat as you open your mouth and nothing comes out. 

“Kidding, I swear. Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

You wrap the towel a little tighter around your stomach, and Leon’s brow pinches. “What’s that all about?”

“Just not feeling like I look my best,” you admit, glancing over to the picnic basket you brought along, “It’s just for today, I don’t like how I look and maybe I should go easier on the food-” 

“Absolutely not.” 

The sharp pitch of his voice snaps your eyes back up as he plucks a nectarine out of the basket and slips it into your hand. He won’t take no for an answer – did he see how shaky your legs were at the pool this morning? 

“You spent all day chasing your swimming class around; you need energy to kick my ass at Chicken like you promised, remember?”

“Come on, it’s not that serious. I just missed breakfast.” You’re mumbling now, sounding not at all influential or winning, “I had enough energy for today’s lesson anyway.”

“You’ll lose your boobs.” Leon shrugs, sinking his teeth into another nectarine before you smack him on the shoulder. A scandalized gasp tears out your throat as he laughs.

“That’s a stretch!”

“I don’t make the rules. Eat. Land or water, you’re gorgeous both ways.”

And there he was again, doing what he does best. The sinking feeling lifts with each bite you take of the fruit, and just maybe, you might not have messed this all up.

“Attagirl.”

You meet Leon’s grin with an idiotic one of your own. “Charmer.”

“Pretty girl.”

fun fact: i once got flirted with like leon does to reader at the end but that guy did it much worse and it was a total ick 💀 lowkey i might not keep this up either AHGHG

click for my full drabble collection, and find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care!

[nouearth]

servicing justice: superman [1]

pairing ; kal-el / clark kent / superman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 2144. series ; servicing justice. genre ; smut. rating ; m. warnings ; bigdick!superman. blowjob. gloryhole. handjob. mouth-fucking. oral (reader giving). sexworker!reader. note ; yeah, okay. maybe i've been watching too much of a certain video genre, ahem. but i hope you guys enjoy my first smut! it's been a WHILE since i've written one, so i know it's rusty, HAHA. looks-wise, i mostly had maws's superman in mind (because the art style is so good and so himbo), but feel free to imagine it with any superman!

it isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. you’ve been kneeling on the floor for quite some time now, waiting for your assigned client. your palms begin to sweat to a minimal but uncomfortable degree. did i fuck up already? you ask yourself as your mind clouds with questions, doubts, and even judgement regarding this new job.

“jesus, what did i get myself into…” you recall the long process it took for you to end up here. the intensive (and ridiculously long) process of reading and signing multiple forms and documents almost had you backing out of this opportunity. though looking back at it, it was understandable since it’s quite unheard of to be… a sex worker for superheroes.

for an incredible pay, your privacy will essentially be stripped away starting from today. all phone messages, calls, and social media activities will be monitored during your venture as a sex worker, and that post-graduate life was not going to pay itself. for the most part, so far everything seemed… great? being driven to work by a chauffeur, having your own personal room and health coverage provided, and most importantly… eating free lunch was not bad at all.

or maybe you’re just naïve.

all you had to do was kneel and suck a few superhumans off. as the newbie, you were told that you’ll be starting on gloryhole duty due to privacy reasons; at least until you built enough camaraderie. though, you didn’t even mind since there would certainly be less strain on your body.

you couldn’t help but snicker at the mere thought of an entire league of superheroes holding a meeting regarding this subject matter. especially since almost everyone in the world, including you, holds these superheroes in such high regard.

“meeting is adjourned until 9 am tomorrow! until then, please help yourself to some delicious food trucks from outer spac-“ your humorous imitation of a noble superhero is silenced when you hear the door opening. within your private booth, all that blocks you from meeting your approaching client is another door with a hole cut through.

your curiosity is piqued when you catch a sight of the man’s physique through the hole. plaid shirt and jeans aside, and assuming he had to underdress, he’s huge. maybe because you’re kneeling right now, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been near a superhero before, but you couldn’t help but be in awe at the size of the man. your eyes complete a full body scan by the time he approaches the door and before you could say something, he does.

“sorry i was late-“ a gentle voice echoes behind the door. contrary to his soft voice, the man’s large hands work aggressively at his belt, unlooping the leather with impatience yet eagerness as he anticipates the mouth that’s been waiting for his arrival. “there was this whole thing with this cat in this tree and then this school bus got hijacked- not my best day, unfortunately.”

“i’m sorry to hear that. sounds like a stressful day, yeah?” your voice is compassionate. you felt bad for the unnamed superhero and a part of you wanted to continue the conversation further, but your job isn’t to listen to their feelings. it’s to pleasure.

“yeah…” a huge sigh of relief expels from the man’s dry throat when he pulls his pants down. frustration stains another one of your client’s sigh, clearly troubled by the restrictive fabric guarding his erection. you watch with parted lips as he couldn’t help but give himself a needy stroke through his tight briefs, fondling his balls then beelining his palm to the very plump tip of his cock. your own cock hardens at this scene, and you find yourself doing the very same. mimicking his impatient hand to tend to the sensitive pressure below, you tiptoe the fine line between frustration and pleasure as your tightening pants and briefs define what it means to be an absolute nuisance. “very stressful.”

it doesn’t take much time before you’re faceful of cock and somehow, you manage to salivate more than you did a minute ago. the man’s throbbing erection is brimmed with thick pre-cum, stress practically leaving his body with every drip. it’s a heavenly sight that’s enough to make you stick your tongue out just in time to catch the substance into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. the salty taste always catches you off-guard yet at the same time, it puts you under a spell. a tantalizing spell that commands you to drag your warm tongue over and back the underside of his thick shaft, completely avoiding the plump glans to have his cock leak even more… stress.

the taste of his musk drives your palm further into your erection, palming at whatever you could as you preoccupy yourself with teasing the man. you almost felt bad for him. contrary to his build, his whimpers are… so small, so weak. you notice his hands grip over the top of the barrier, and it turns you on upon realizing how this supposed hero could become so fragile at the simple taunt of your tongue.

“please…” the superhero whimpers out, needlessly fucking the air in hopes of granting his cock some type of friction. you’re amazed, and a little proud, by how much pre-cum he’s been leaking by now, and it all goes right onto your tongue. the wet muscle follows the natural curve of his cock to meet up with the wet and plump head. his hips buckle into the barrier and feeling it shake, you keep him steady by wrapping your hand around his shaft. you’re addicted at this point. addicted to the salty taste of his pre-cum as your tongue licks and explores into the slit of his cock, while at the same time, your hand works at his large cock in slow, but steady strokes.

“oh christ-“ he breathes out, repeating the same two words under his shaky breath as you continue to pleasure him with your tongue and hand. after a few licks, you pull away to give your tongue a break. in doing so, your grip tightens around his shaft to pace your strokes quicker. when you find a moment where your wrist needs a break, you let your client catch his breath. his cock throbbing more and more with every passing second when your tongue and hand aren’t exploring him, and you bask in the sight of it. you believe you deserve a medal at this point. not for doing a great job (though, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched), but for having control. you haven’t even sucked him off yet, but you’re content on remaining just like this for a while longer. though, that wouldn’t be fair for the superhero.

before he could whimper out another plea, your warm mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock and your ears perk at the sound of his low moan almost instantly. your hand returns to its rightful position around the lower base of his penis as you cycle your tongue over the glans, satisfying your need to taste his musk once more. seconds later, your hand lets go when you push your head farther, taking in an inch more of the hero’s cock. your knees dig into the floor as you push your head more and more, stretching your mouth with his cock until you feel yourself gagging.

“fuck.” you sniffle out when you pull back. perhaps you were challenging yourself too hard. you think to yourself as you catch your breath, using the remaining moment to sloppily jerk him off with your saliva. part of you wanted to challenge yourself to deepthroat him, impress your client on the first day. but you already know you wouldn’t be able to take it… at least, for now.

“you could hurt someone with this, y’know?” for some reason, you thought you needed to crack a joke as if there was an awkward silence that needed to be filled. maybe you just wanted to hear him talk again. his voice is warm and inviting, somewhat fitting for a superhero or even a television host as the moment you hear his voice again, you felt safe.

“i have before- oh god.” you lube up his cock with your spit as you continue to jerk him off, refraining yourself from fucking his slit with your tongue again to concentrate on his words. “which is why i don’t do this much- sex and stuff… it’s all troublesome, really.”

“yeah?” and just when you talked yourself out of challenging yourself, you feel the competitive spark ignite inside of you again. “well, i guess you just have to find the right one. could be anyone, even people you just met.” you try to play it nonchalantly, hoping that double-handing his wet cock would distract him.

he was beyond speechless at this point, moans drawn out by means of your sloppy strokes. you swear you can hear his heartbeat behind the barrier when you lean your head closer to suck him off again. you moan along with him, drawing out every breath of yours as you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock every time you come down. your hand twists and strokes the remaining few inches that isn’t violated by your tongue and mouth, following your mouth like a reel as your intent to make him cum is fervent more than ever.

it hurts. your mouth hurts by how large your client is and tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself back from gagging. but you don’t stop yourself because you’ll know it’ll be worth it. your endeavor to please him to the fullest has you drowning out his groans into white noise and you can barely register the fact that you’ve been on paused for a while now. you find yourself in a closer position than before, where your mouth is open, lips fully pressed around the carved hole as the superhero fucks into your mouth, fucks into your gags like you’re his personal flesh light. you didn’t care how dirty you looked, how you had saliva and spittle dripping out from the corners of your mouth and onto the floor. who would see? and you didn’t care that you were too preoccupied to touch your dick right now, because you know you’ll be thinking about this very moment for the rest of your life. and right now, you didn’t know if you wanted to be covered in his cum or to have your mouth be filled with it.

remaining in this position, you glance your teary eyes up at his grip over the barrier again. the strength in his grasp forms small cracks in the material of the barrier and that was the sign you knew you fulfilled your sense of purpose.

“christ, i’m going to come-“ your eyes shut again and you breathe through your noise, bracing for impact. he pushes his cock down your throat and hits that sore spot one last time before unloading his cum into your mouth with a stifled groan. warm, hot seed quickly fills you up and you pull your head back an inch to fully enclose your lips around his cock, ensuring none escape your lips.

in a heartbeat, you swallowed it all. his warm cum coats the back of your throat like medicine and you moan around his cock at the taste, intoxicated. you made sure to lick every inch of his cock clean, calmly slurping any saliva and cum that threatens to leave your mouth as you pull back up with a soft pop, swallowing the remaining remnants of his stress away.

“t-thank you. i needed that…” he pulls his softening cock out, careful in avoiding the hole as he was still sensitive. “did you need a tissue or anything? i think i have one somewhere…” you can hear him rummage through what you can only assume would be his bag and you find it charming, a quiet laugh leaving your swollen lips as you lean back onto your elbows to take a breather and stretch your legs out.

“no, no. i’m okay. i, uh, don’t think i wasted a drop.” you proudly brag, only for him to respond with a shy chuckle. you watch him tidy himself through the hole from a leaned back view, occasionally tilting your head in various angles to see if you could catch a glimpse on who the mysterious superhero is, but the barrier remains an obstruction to your view.

“well then, i… uh… thank you for your service.” he covers up the silence with another laugh and you join in, re-adjusting his pants and belt before turning his back towards you and heading out the booth. “i’ll try not to be late next time.”

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[in-daddy-price-we-trust]

All I Wanted - Part 2

summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.

pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence, kidnapping

Part 1 Part 3

AN: Here it is! The Long awaited part two !!

Hope you enjoy this just as much as part one !!

Price POV

This was not what they needed right now. When 141 first heard of a potential weapons trade for El Sin Nombre going down in Amsterdam, they couldn't wait to get on the field.

The suspense was killing them as they waited for the right moment. They knew at this point that trying to stop the deal would be more hassle than worth. So the plan of waiting for their food to come to them was a better solution.

Price stalled however when he saw her step out. No way this was who they were after. No one in a cartel would go about wearing over-pink clothes. It was stupid. Even more so when she started shooting back, with a pistol as well.

"Ghost, move in," the static of the radio crackled before a grumbled copy sounded back. Price watched as Ghost snuck up behind her, his feet silent as he kicked her knees in and knocked her out.

"Well done Ghosty," The Scotsman, Soap, cheered over the comms, making his way down to the evac truck they scheduled.

She sat in-between him and Ghost. "No way she's with Nombre," Gaz announced after a few minutes of silence, "She's a child!" A hum left Soap's throat. 

"That's why we integrate her, Nombre or not, we can still use her to our advantage," Price concluded, sending the group back into quiet before she awoke.

-

Gaz was right. She was a child, barely reaching 16. Guilt hung heavy in his heart as he thought back to her crying. Cheeks red with tears and eyes puffy. 

He dragged a hand down his face, muttering a 'Jesus Christ' under his breath at the discovery. Eyes flicked across the room, every single soldier in that room seemed to suffocate in the amount of tension.

With a heavy sigh, Price spoke again. "How about we make a deal?" her head shot up at the words, a mix of emotions slathered across her features. From here he could tell she was picking apart his words.

"You, stay with us and get a place to stay," Price's eyes drifted to his team behind her.

"But - you have to help us catch our guy," The words cemented in her brain, slowly nodding along to them. It couldn't be worse to what she was used to, can it? Worse case scenario, she runs away again.

"Okay," it was final, "But I need to get my gear first."

-

The drive was quiet. The radio played some random pop song that she muttered the lyrics too, fingers drumming on her thighs. 

The boys seemed glad she accepted the deal. Although it may be the fact she was a minor and by the sounds of it, partaking in crime activity. Of course, this wouldn't be as different but at least all expenses were paid for by the government.

The car lulled to a stop, pulling up in front of the hotel. The door slammed shut before Price even registered her unclicking her seat belt leaving him to race after her.

A smile graced her lips as she greeted the lady at the front desk, who then proceeded to side eye Price. He would too if he saw a teenager going up to a hotel room with a 40-something-year-old man.

The pair continued to be silent in each other's presence, even when her fingers slipped together pressing and pulling on each one as a sort of fidget. The lift dinged at the second floor, Price hot on her heels to the hotel room. She muttered the number continuously under her breath, 105. 

Number splayed in gold, she struggles to get the keycard from wherever she managed to store the thing, like seriously, where did she put things? 

The door pushed open to the room. The white linen sheets still a mess from when she woke up this morning. What caught his eye was the absurdly bright duffle bag that sat on the middle of the hardwood floors, from where he stood he could make out the top of a pink sniper. 

'Jesus the girl knew how to stick to a theme, that's for sure..'

Diligently she picked up the weapons she managed to slide into nooks and crannies. Picking up stray plushies along the way. Price tried to help, but whenever he tried to pick up a cuddly brown bear he'd get holes burnt unto his head. So he eventually dropped it, opting to stand near the door.

Before long she came up to him, bag over her shoulder and a determined look in her eyes. The trip back to reception was awkward. The same tense atmosphere seemed to follow like a shadow. The lift dinged again, the robotic voice announcing their arrival.

She marched over to the receptionist, explaining she was checking out early (even though there was still two weeks left) and saying if anyone needed it to let them have the room for free. The soft spoken words melted the workers heart, promising to do as told.

-

Your POV

Price was awkward. Maybe the commanding aura around him clashed with yours of innocence. But - you both knew yours was fake. To some extent at least.

"Why did you make a deal? - with me?" It was a genuine question. The want of appreciation and validation flooding through your veins.

His eyes flicked down to you, noticing you already looking him in the face. He huffed a laugh at it. Soft, warm. "Well - I'm not just going to toss a kid out on the street, am I?" It was the truth. Voice of honey and liquid gold washing over you. Clouding your brain.

"Thank you, Price."

-

"Doll, wake up for me yeah?" a hum fell past your lips as you stirred awake, rubbing your eyes.

"Are we back already?" voice hoarse and scratchy, a yawn coming from you mid sentence.

Price chuckled at you. 'Glad someone finds this amusing.' 

"C'mon love - I'll show you to your new room and you can have a kip in there, kay?" His voice was soft, almost like the words would make you shatter and crumble like glass. Though it worked, pushing you out of the passenger seat of the car and onto the (now) familiar gravel plaza. Pink mary janes dragged behind you, sleep seeping into your bones.

That was soon rushed out of you when Mohawk appeared in front of you and Price. "Hi lassie, names Sargent John Mactavish but Soap is fine!" He beamed, pearly whites flashing down as you appeared wide eyed at him, stunned at the sudden (and quite frankly, loud) appearance. He threw a hand over his shoulder, pointing at the other figure you completely missed, "And that's Gaz." It was the shorty of the group, giving you a sheepish wave and a sympathetic smile at the loud Scot.

Price placed a hand on your shoulder, a slight apology maybe? You found yourself staring up at him before speaking, "Uhm.. thank- thank you Soap-?" cursing yourself for stumbling over your words. The nicknames getting caught on your tongue at its strangeness. "What kind of name is 'Soap' anyways?" He laughed at that, full belly laughed. Sort of high like a bell, although pleasant.

"M' Afraid I can't tell ya that, confidential," It was spoken with a wicked grin plastered across his face. The smile contagious and making the pink bands of your braces show. "Why don't Gaz and I show you to your new room?" A glance to Price and his nudge of the head allowed you to accept the offer, Soap instantly grabbing the bag from off your shoulder and pulling you along, going on to ramble about his hometown in Scotland.

-

taglist: @urfavsunkissedleo @greenkiki @daryldixonh0e @elijahssuit @theunknownartistsworld @rafaelacallinybbay @cycy-nicole @romanticizedillness @thedeluded @blueoorchid @guiltyconfessions @r3dc4ndy @unnoticed-human @crazyfandomist @jaymum @chb-7 @chromslover @connierk690 @lilpothoscuttings @darkfaethedestroyer @cptg00s3 @elvyshiarieko @8-29pm @howlerwolfmax @minkyungseokie @tapioca-marzipan @cinnamoroll-things @kittythebloodykiller @thicc-plum @phoenixmistycal @marytvirgin @eddiesbitch83 @dwkfan

[star-angelluv]

authors note: hellooo! someone had requested for a soft nate jacobs piece and the draft got deleted so if u were that person i am so sorry but I hope this finds you! :) also I’m so sorry for how long it’s taking me to make these I’ll try to post as consistent as possible! Pls enjoy this one in the meantime!

Tenderness is a Virtue.

The reminiscing air of what was left of summer flew through your window with a soft sound.

Closing your textbook, you let out a small sigh of relief. Wanting to get enough hours of sleep before class the following day, you shifted your body and let it finally be at ease.

Though none of it lasted long.

The soft ping of your phone rang through the room and its soft light luminated a tiny section of your bedroom ceiling.

Groaning softly you moved your body to scan the screen.

“Wyd?.” -nate

You stared at the message for a moment, but ultimately settled that you were to answer him back in the morning as you moved back to your previous position.

Again, it didn’t last long before your phone rang softly.

Letting out a nosier groan this time, you moved to answer the phone ready with an irked greeting to whom you knew was on the other line.

“I’m outside.” Was the first and only thing he said in a soft hurried voice before he hung up.

Agitated and incredibly confused you quickly put on a pair of slippers and looked outside your bedroom window.

From there, you spotted Nate’s truck parked right infront of your house.

Grabbing your phone you dialed him back.

He picked up on the first ring.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” We’re the first words you spoke to him that night.

“Well hello to you to moody.” Was what he said and you swore you could hear a smirk in his words.

“Nate it’s 2 in the morning, why the hell are you here-“

“Alright, Jesus fucking Christ calm down a bit, yeah?”

You groaned softly for what seemed like the tenth time of the night.

“Just trust me alright? And get your ass down here, the foods getting cold.” There was the shit eating grin in his voice again.

Your annoyance shifted into curiosity and by the time you were to respond he had hung up.

Grabbing a hoodie and carefully moving to the front door as to not wake your parents, you reached the front door and stepped outside.

Running carefully to his truck you reached the passenger door and opened it.

“Hi.” Was the only thing he said as he watched your soft gaze fall onto the objects in the passenger seat.

Your gaze shifted to meet his eyes, “hey.”

“You gonna come in or are you gonna stand there looking at me like that?” He asked with a soft teasing tone in his voice.

Hesitantly you exhaled softly.

“I don’t know Nate, there’s class tomorrow and I can’t risk not sleeping just because you decided to go on a joy ride.” You said in a slightly annoyed as he took it all in meanwhile you rambled.

“And even if I wanted to, if my parents see that I’m not home they’ll ground me-”

“Please?”

You turned your eyes to stare at his soft expression.

“I know it’s late as shit right now and I’m sorry for waking you up but I really need you right now, so if you could just get in the fucking car please.” He said in a pitiful tone.

Part of you felt a slight sense to be there for him, and the other small fraction felt like slamming the car door shut.

With a resigned sigh you slid into the passenger seat.

He smiled softly at you as you buckled your seatbelt.

“Thank you.” He whispered afraid his voice would break the brittle silence between you two.

You turned to him and nodded softly, a silent reassurance.

“So where are wo going?” You asked.

“It’s a surprise.” He said grinning and starting the car.

“Nate.” You groaned his name softly and scrunched your nose at his words.

“Nope, not telling you, but relax alright? All you have to do is sit your pretty little butt in that seat.” He said still grinning and teasing.

You shook your head smiling softly and leaning back into your seat.

———

After a short drive, he turned onto a side street, then another, weaving through the city until you reached a small, secluded rooftop parking lot with a stunning view of the city skyline. Nate parked the car and turned to you, eyes softening as he looked at you.

“Come on,” he said, his voice gentler than usual as he hopped out of the car. You followed, your curiosity growing as he opened the trunk and pulled out a small basket.

He caught your confused expression and offered a quiet smile. "Trust me," he said, guiding you to the edge of the rooftop where he spread out a blanket on the cool concrete.

"Picnic on the roof?" you asked, a bit surprised by the thoughtfulness behind it.

"Picnic on the roof," he confirmed, carefully unpacking the basket. He handed you a sandwich, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, and you noticed how deliberate and careful his movements were.

“Thank you.” You whispered sweetly.

He nods softly with a small smile on his face. “I know we’ve been tiring yourself out lately so I wanted to do something for us, figured we could use a break even if it’s just a night,” he admitted dropping normal smug tone to a more tender one towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him planing this all out.

“This is really nice, thank you,” you said, your heart warming.

His lips pulled upwards into an adoring smile, “I’m glad, I was worried you were going to think it was dumb or something.”

You shook your head softly as you bit into the sandwich.

You both ate and fell into conversation, chatting about everything from school to football.

“You know we have a game next Friday,” he spoke.

You nodded your head, “yeah, I heard. Biggest game of the year right?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice a bit softer than usual.

He paused for a moment as to decide how to say his next words. “You should come.”

You blinked, a bit surprised. “To the game?”

He nodded, looking almost shy for a moment, a side of Nate you weren’t used to seeing.

There was something in his tone, a quiet sincerity that made your chest tighten a little. “Really?” you asked, wanting to make sure you hadn’t misunderstood.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “It’d be nice to have someone there who... who actually cares, you know?”

You thought your heart would actually explode at that point hearing how he aches for you to be there.

“I’ll be there,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.”

He smiled, a genuine smile. Thanks, it’ll be nice seeing you in the stands instead of mad at me,” he says teasingly.

You shook your head softly and laughed softly, “you’re horrible,” you said still shaking your head and hiding the soft tint that rose to your cheeks.

———

Pulling up to your house and turning off the engine, Nate turned to you, the soft radio music filling the space.

You smiled softly at him and reached to open the car door to exit but turned to look at him with a soft smile.

“You know you can’t just show up to my house and make me a picnic every time we fight,” you said softly and teasingly.

He smiled softly and reached to cup your cheek to bring your face towards him.

“I know,” he said in a whisper as your faces were inches apart.

“But,” he said as he got closer.

“There’s always painting, museums, a movie, and I suppose if everything else fails I’ll just do this,” he said as his gaze fell to your lips while he held both your cheeks softly and pulled them so your lips met his.

The kiss was soft and tender, no lust, just you and him.

As you pulled away softly you peck right below his lip lightly.

“You’re dumb,” you said in a whisper tone.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be sweet girl.” He said with an adoring smile.

[sunraies]

pls can you do prompt 4 “no don’t cry i hate it when you cry” i forgot to specify 🤭

That's ok, hun. Hope this is ok 😊 x

4. No, don't cry, I hate it when you cry

Prompt List

Warnings - best friend Rafe x Reader. Being cheated on. Heartbreak.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

"Yeah, Sarah. I'm checking on her now" Rafe said down the phone as his key turned in the front door lock. "Jesus, why do you have to be friends with my friend again? Don't you have enough with those little shits?"

Rafe Cameron had been your best friend since kindergarten. Ever since he stuck play doh in your hair, you punched him and he offered you a cookie at snack time as an apology. Sarah become a close friend after years spent at the Cameron household. The two bickered over you all the time, even after nearly 20 years of friendship.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever" Rafe continued bickering as he entered your living room "Just keep.... shit, I gotta call you back"

All around your living room, every surface was covered in takeout boxes and ice-cream tubs. While a heap of blankets were piled on the couch. The only way Rafe knew you were under there was the occasional movement.

"Fuckin hell, it's like a tornado hit a ice cream truck and took out a Chinese restaurant on the way" Rafe muttered "Hey, are you ok? Why have you been ignoring us? You alive under there?"

He poked the bundle of blankets with his shoe before crouching down.

"Sweets? What's going on?" He gently untangled the blankets to find your face. His heart sunk with you appeared, puffy eyed.

You huffed and slowly sat up, wiping sticking ice cream away from your mouth. "Brett, cheated on me" You admitted, before looking away from Rafe.

Your boyfriend of 2 years, who Rafe hated had cheated on you. That son of a...

"That son of a bitch" Rafe blurted out, clearly pissed off. "Please tell me you dumped his ass. Or better killed him, fucking bastard, I'll kill him myself. I'll kill his ghost"

You just nodded, and when your small smile turned wobbly, Rafe quickly bundled you up in his arms. Not caring that you had food on your cheek, ice cream in your hair, and clearly hadn't moved from the couch in days.

"Please- please don't say I told you so...." You muttered into his chest as tears began to form again.

"No, Baby." He held you tighter. Even if he had warned you about the scum bag, he'd never hit you while you were down. "No, don't cry. I hate it when you cry"

"I'm sorry." You sobbed. "I don't think.... I can't"

Finally, in your best friends arms. The boy who cared for you most of your life. You let it out, in gut-wrenching sobs. In the safety and comfort of his embrace. His heart breaking right beside yours. His heart that loved you, and was in love with you for so many years.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty

TW: mentions of violence

When you pull up out front, you’re more than grateful—ecstatic—to see the charger parked against the curb and Tom leaning against it, waiting for you in the peaking yellow sunshine. He beams when he sees you initially, but that delighted expression quickly turns concerned when he assesses the leftover tears streaked down your face. He meets you halfway, and grabs you up, and you just can’t help it, you start bawling into his silk button up. 

“Hey, hey, baby, Jesus, what’s wrong?” His palm rests securely on the back of your scalp, holding you tight, other arm wrapped around your torso and soothing your side. 

Fuck. This is not great. Best case scenario, you tell Tom the truth and Julian ends up on life support and the one that put him there ends up in jail for a very, very long time. At this point, you don’t give a shit about Julian—okay, he’s a whole human being with heavy trauma that you inadvertently led on, so maybe you do a little bit, but you’re more concerned about Tom getting locked up for life, probably with people he helped or directly put in prison himself. 

You have to lie, and it has to be convincing. But you’re taking too long thinking of one, and Tom Ludlow got promoted detective for a reason. “It was that fucking little bitch Julian, wasn’t it? You wait here.” He pulls away from you, a man on a mission, and you panic, reach for him, say the first thing that will be either convincing or pathetic enough to get him to stay and avoid life in the hole.

 “Wait, Tom. Please don’t leave me?”

He actually pauses, and it almost makes you want to cry all over again, because how many times have you thrown those words at a man, just to have them ignored? He turns, striding back to you and catching you up in his arms again. “I told you, baby, if he hurt you he was going to pay.”

“We just argued,” your whimper into his broad chest, sick with the memory of what had actually transpired. “He threw away my sunflowers, because he’s a shit, and I told him so. He threatened to write me up. And it was a long, hectic fucking shift from hell, so please don’t go?”

You feel the tension ease in Tom’s arms just minutely, and you dare think that maybe you’ve managed to keep this man from committing murder on your behalf. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I will be if you stay. We could put on a movie? And you could…rub my feet?”

He looks down at you, so intensely searching your expression for the truth, and in that moment he’s so handsome that you really could die in his arms. You hate yourself so much for lying to him, but you tell yourself its for the best, until you figure out what the fuck to do about Julian Mercer. A solution that doesn’t involve Tom marching into the hospital and shooting the doctor down on the Emergency Room floor. 

You’ve always wanted a man who would protect you–the complications of the other side of that coin never occurred to you though. Keeping him from doing something you’ll both regret is quite the challenge, as good as it would feel to watch him beat the daylights out of your asshole doctor. 

Tom, seemingly reluctant, agrees to placidly follow you up to your apartment. First, he grabs a delicious smelling paper bag from his front seat. Salty, fatty, fresh and hot, melty cheeseburgers and crispy fries from his favorite food truck. As you sit on your couch with him, feet in his lap, munching on carbs, you realize you’d take this over a fancy French dinner any day. 

Tom is done with his food, so he’s leaned back, sipping on soda, intent on the screen in front of him. You’re much more focused on how someone can look so good doing such mundane things, and before long he turns over to catch your stare and grin at you. “Hey.”

You giggle. “Hello?” Boldy, your bare foot traces his taut thigh. 

He pats his lap. “C’mere.” 

You fold up on him sideways as he wraps around you. You feel safe, here, in his arms, and comfortable, too, not wanting for anything; content and sleepy. You rest your head in the space between his deltoid and chest, wondering how you’re going to take it if he breaks your heart. Not well. Not well at all. 

“You gotta work today?” You ask him, thumbing the line of his jaw. 

“At noon.” He kisses your hair. 

“Complaints desk? Are you there because of the.. y’know.” 

“I’m there because I work with pussies and assholes.” He nuzzles into the side of your hair. 

“No dicks?” You joke. 

“Plenty.” There’s a smile in his voice, but it’s injected with honesty. 

“Do you like your job? Like, actually like this current assignment?” 

“I don’t like the complaint desk,” he admits, “but I do like the field—sometimes. I imagine it’s sort of like your job. Some nights I go home feeling satisfied, sometimes I go home and wanna tie a noose around my neck.” His honesty is brutal, but damn if he didn’t hit the nail on the head. You and Tom are cut from the same cloth, it seems. 

You nod. “Yeah, that sounds right.” 

He clears his throat. “My old partner, I trusted him with my life more than once. We ran the gauntlet together, broke stereotypes and cleaned up the city piece by piece. I just learned he’s talking to Internal Affairs about me. He’s trying to get me fired.” 

“Internal affairs?” You ask. 

“Yeah. Some things we did, back then, they weren’t by book. He has dirt on me.” 

“Why?” You ask, now angry on his behalf. “Because you saved those kids?”

“He doesn’t think I did it the right way.”

“There was no right way to do it. If you hadn't helped them, they would still be getting tortured for Christ’s sake. Doesn’t he care about that?” 

He’s silent for a long beat, probably thinking about what he wants to say to that question. Finally, he settles on: “the man I once knew would have.” 

“And now?” 

“I don’t know.” He seems really sad about this whole thing, and your heart aches for him. You lean up to kiss the side of his mouth, inhaling crisp aftershave and skin. 

It’s strange, how a few days ago he was chasing you down on the highway and making you have vivid visions of your hands wrapped around his throat, and now he’s here snuggled on the couch with you, distraught. Things are moving too quickly, and you’re not sure how to stop them—stop the ten ton freight train headed right for your very delicate heart. It seems pretty impossible. 

“I’m sorry, Tom. If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure the majority of us laypeople think you’re a fucking hero…” 

He seems like he really doesn’t know what to say to that. Maybe, just like you, he’s bad at accepting compliments, accepting the fact that he’s a good man—despite the way he carries himself in the outside world, there is a unique vulnerability to him here, curled around you like a dragon protecting gold, and fuck if it doesn’t make you want him that much more.

“Can you lay with me for a while?” You ask, baring yourself to him and terrified of what the answer will be. Usually, different versions of this question—can we cuddle? Can we go to bed? Can you hold me?—yield failed results. Most men, at least the ones you’ve encountered, don’t want to just lay in bed doing nothing, and you’re prepared for Tom to think the same. 

Instead, he seems a little…dumbfounded. Like he didn’t expect this type of thing from his hot headed little nurse. That makes two of you. “In your bed?” 

“Yeah, in my bed. Let me…hold you?” You brace for his laughter, but instead get his arms wrapped around you tighter, his sigh against the top of your head, the relaxing of his body into a big puddle. 

“I would love that,” he says, and it sounds like he really, really means it. 

You end up with his head pressed against your chest, and your arms cradled around him, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. It’s silent, but the comfortable kind, the one that comes when you’re naturally in tune with someone. He fits right into you again, your missing piece despite the height and size difference. 

This is nice, and it’s not long before you’re drifting off in the shelter of Tom Ludlow’s arms. 

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 2: What's Cookin' Good Lookin'?

Summary: After you meet Javier Peña giving a presentation at your elementary school, you get ready to meet him at your co-worker's backyard cookout. You just hope that he remembers you.

Warnings: Mentions of Javi's past with the DEA, mentions of grief/death, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of blood and needing first aid (nothing major), Javi taking care of you, allusions to sexual tension, you being a sarcastic asshole and Javi being too smitten to care

Word Count: 8.5K

A/N: Shout out to Chucho Peña for being the G.O.AT. And Javi putting his DEA first aid skills to the test. Thank you for the likes and reposts! These two are fun to write.

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Javi couldn’t think of the last time that he had turned on the radio in his truck. It had practically gone untouched since he had returned home to Laredo. But today, on his way back to the Sheriff's Department, he had put music on full volume the whole drive. His brain overflowed with images of you. Your smile, your laugh, God, the way you looked in that damn dress. The sweet smell of you still lingered in his mind as you had gotten only inches away from his lips. “See you on Saturday.” If he had known that today’s trip would have ended like this, he would have become the damn D.A.R.E representative of the office. He was so consumed with thoughts of you, that it wasn’t until he had passed City Hall that he realized he had driven by the Sheriff's Department 15 minutes ago.  

“How’d it go, Peña?” Javier could barely take 3 steps into his office before Carter was already at his door. “You sure look happy.” 

“Hey, look who made it out alive!” A 2nd voice chimed in from outside the office door, Carter’s partner, Detective Miller.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be that bad! Was the hot one there that I told you about? Jesus, I’d go back to do that stupid ass presentation again just to see her.” 

“God I hope she was, she must have been out sick the day I went because all I got were 3 middle aged ladies and disappointment.” Carter and Miller laughed to each other. 

“Definitely would have paid way more attention if she was my fuckin’ teacher, god damn, she is a hot piece of a-” 

Javier was no stranger to his co-workers checking out women on the job, hell, he was guilty of it too. But there was something about the conversation that made his stomach churn with jealousy. 

“She’s got a fucking name, alright? Don’t talk about her like that.” Javier snapped, leaving the two men standing in his doorway stunned. Given his reputation, Carter and Miller thought Javier would be quick to join in on the banter. 

“Jesus, sorry man. Just trying to have some fun.” The two backed out of his office, not expecting such a reaction from him. Carter was just about to open his mouth, hoping to gain some intel from Javier’s trip, but before he could, Miller gave him a silent shake “no”, gesturing to get the hell out before Carter did something else stupid to piss their boss off. 

Despite his interaction with Carter and Miller, Javi spent the rest of the day in a surprisingly good mood. 

Fuck, did he feel… happy?  

It obviously wasn’t a look that Javier wore often, considering that as he left the office for the day and gave a smile, accompanied by “Have a good night!” to the office secretary, she looked up at him with legitimate concern and asked if he was okay.  

Dust swept around his truck as Javi pulled down the dirt driveway to the front of the Peña ranch. The quaint house was nestled amongst acres of farmland, sat in front of a well loved barn where the horses were kept. The porch was lined with a colorful arrangement of flowers and figurines, all lovingly placed by Lucia, and even more lovingly tended to by her husband, Chucho, who swore his best to keep her garden alive after she no longer could. 

The front door let out a faint squeak as Javier made his way through, taking off his shoes and setting down his things before making his way over to the fridge. Reaching at the handle to grab a beer and something to eat, he saw the bright yellow sticky note placed at eye level as he bent down. 

Javi, 

It’s Wednesday. I’m with Las Vengüenzas (The Embarrassments) for cards. Will be back around 9. There’s leftovers in the fridge. Símon is being an ass today. Watch out. 

Love, Pops 

Chucho Peña was notorious for leaving notes everywhere around the house. Javi was pretty sure if he didn’t make a bi-weekly trip around the ranch, the entire thing would be covered in yellow post-it notes. 

After inhaling half of a leftover sandwich, and finishing off his beer, Javi slipped on his boots and made his way out to the barn to round up and feed the horses for the night. Before accepting his new position at the Sheriff's department several months ago, Javi spent the beginning of his time home from the DEA working with his father on the ranch. When he came home from Colombia, he didn’t really have a plan. Just that he couldn’t take working for the DEA any longer. Even after he had leaked the dark, unsettling truth of what had happened with the Cali Cartel and made a point to politely tell the DEA to fuck off, Javi would still receive the occasional call asking him if he would consider coming back to help fight the drug war raging across the border in Mexico. The request to fuck off got less and less polite with each call. 

Still, Javi felt unsettled resigning himself to a life of ranching forever. His body had proved to him that he definitely was not as young as he once was, and he couldn’t help but miss the fact that what he was doing held some sort of significance to make things better. 

When Dean Morris approached Chucho about the new training position opening up for the department, he told the elder Peña that the office was willing to do just about anything to have Javi be a part of their team. No field work, normal office hours, pay raise, and good benefits.  Just providing his expertise and knowledge to new recruits and staff about strategies to stop trafficking across the border. Javier had considered the option of telling him to fuck right off too, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt like an idiot to pass something like this up. He felt guilty leaving his position at the ranch with his dad, but his father assured him “If I could do it all these years while you were gone, I’d sure as hell look like a fool if I couldn’t keep doing it now. Don’t think you’re still getting out of helping while you’re around, though. You can promise your old man you won’t leave me too high and dry. ” 

So here Javi was, making good on his promise. As he opened the gate to the barn, 2 of the horses trotted up to him immediately, knowing that it must be close to dinner time. 3 more slowly followed, leaving one left for Javi to corral. 

Where the hell was he? 

“Son of a bitch.” Javier muttered to himself, noticing that the last horse he was looking for was all the way across the field, perfectly content where he was standing. Chucho was right, Símon was going to be a pain in the ass today. 

“Símon! Get your ass over here! I’m not going all the way out to get you!” 

Nothing. 

“Fine, starve to death, see if I care.” Javi had a sweet spot for animals, but Símon’s unruly antics tended to make the horse an exception to the rule. 

Javi turned his back and made his way to the other 5 horses choosing to give him much less of a hard time. Javi filled the troughs with food, leaving the horses happily munching on their dinner. As he got one last scoop from the bucket to place into the trough, a soft muzzle bumped its way under the scoop, causing the food to fly everywhere. Símon let out a loud whinney, mocking Javier for letting out a startled yell and dropping the remainder of the food all over the floor of the barn. “Stupid ass horse…” Javi grumbled. 

As Javi ventured his way back to the house, several more lights had been turned on inside the house, signaling that his dad must be back from his weekly cards night. 

Kicking his boots off on the back step, Javi greeted his father. “Hey Pops. You were right about Símon. Pendejo scared the shit out of me and knocked a whole scoop of food out of my hand.” 

“Well from what I gather, it seems like that’s a small tarnish on what otherwise seems to be a pretty good day.” Javi could hear the delight in Chucho’s voice from around the corner. He had forgotten that both Maria and Estelle’s husbands were a part of Chucho’s card club, and were probably both delighted to gossip to their husbands about their eventful day at school. 

Javi joined his father in the kitchen, pulling out a chair from the dining room table and plopping himself in it. “Word travels fast, I guess.” 

“Not fast enough for Maria, apparently. She called me as soon as she got home from school to tell me about today. She was delighted to see you, and even more delighted to tell me that apparently you’re now joining me for the cookout that you very adamantly told me you weren’t going to.” Chucho raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I heard she’s a sweet girl.” 

Javi rubbed his hand across the width of his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Pops, listen, it’s not that big of a deal, I just met her today. She seemed nice.” 

“Must be a little more than just nice if you’re willing to go through the ringer your mother’s friends are about to put you through on Saturday.” Chucho now delighted in the fact he could tell Javier was becoming increasingly more sheepish as the conversation continued. “Ah, the things we do for love…” 

“Dad, listen I-” 

“I know, I know, you just met her. But let me tell you hijo, I knew from the moment that I laid eyes on your mother, she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The fact that you’re volunteering yourself to talk with your friends and family you’ve been avoiding since you’ve been home just for another chance to see her? She must be something special.” Chucho sighed, and made his way past Javi, extending his arm out to pat him on the shoulder as he passed by. “I just want you to be happy, hijo. Sounds like today was a good start. Well, this old man is off to bed, I may not be beautiful, but I sure need my sleep. Good night, Javi.” 

“Night, Pops.” 

Chucho retreated to this bedroom, leaving Javi alone in the kitchen. Javi stared at the pictures hanging on the wall across from the table. His gaze traveled across the wall noting the variety of framed photos. Him as a toddler in nothing but a cowboy hat and diaper, his mother and father standing next to him holding his diploma from his high school graduation, and Chucho and Lucia slow dancing together at their 25th wedding anniversary party. Javi smiled at the joy and happiness radiating off their faces in the photo.  

Today was a good start. 

You were convinced that time could not have moved any slower than it did between Wednesday and Friday. Exhausted from the end of the school year excitement, you were sure that even a constant IV coffee drip was going to be enough to keep you alive for the next few days. The only thing keeping you going was Saturday. Specifically, Javier Peña. 

Your week became a little more bearable in the moments in the staff lounge you got in between inhaling your lunch, listening to your co-workers drabble bits of information about Javier and the Peña family. You tried to absorb as much of it as you can, without trying to sound too over-eager or ask too many questions. On Wednesday, after your encounter, you asked at lunch how the ladies knew Javi. From there, you had learned that his late mother used to work with the rest of the 3rd grade team before passing about a decade ago (And had been inseparable up until then), he had started his new job at the Sheriff's department a few months ago after returning back to Texas (but you couldn’t figure out where or why he was gone), and they were definitely not a fan of some woman named Lorranie (you weren’t sure why on that either, but the look on their faces told you Lorranie was bad news). If there was one thing your co-workers loved to do, it was talk. While you were happy it provided you with some intel about Javi, the thought of what these ladies had been saying about you behind your back was also petrifying. 

Some way or another, you finally managed to make it to Friday at 4:00 PM, students now all gone from your classroom and headed home for the weekend. With the few ounces of energy you had left, you began to gather your things from your desk to pack up and head out with the promise of Saturday finally on the horizon. 

As you were turning off your lights and closing the door behind you, the 3 Amigas of 3rd grade came strolling up behind you. 

“So, mija, are you excited for tomorrow?” Maria said, giving you a playful nudge in the arm as you joined the group of ladies walking down the hallway towards the parking lot. You could already feel your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Of course you were excited for tomorrow. The thought of seeing the tall, broad and handsome man that was Javier Peña was the only thing you through this week. His deep brown eyes, the way his shoulders stretched the back of his navy blue suit, his hands? You had only known this man for less than a week, yet the image of him flooded your brain every day since you met. Not to mention the fact you hadn’t been on a first date (or anything even close to that) since you met Paul almost 3 and a half years ago. It was only now that you felt the nerves swirling around in your stomach, realizing tomorrow you were actually going to see him again. 

“Yeah, I’m really excited! I’ve been looking forward to it all week. I’m uh, actually kind of nervous though.” Your voice began to trail off as the women looked at you with a smirking suspicion. You quickly elaborated, trying not to make it too obvious the reason why you were worked up was because of the one person you were most looking forward to seeing. 

“You know, because this is my first big party I’ve been to since moving here, and I don’t know a lot of people, and want to make a good impression and-” 

“You’ll know us” Linda cut you off with a smile. 

“You’ll know someone else there besides us old broads, too.” Estelle winked. 

“Mija, there is nothing for you to worry about. Just be yourself, and I’m sure that everyone there will love you. Anyways, we’ve already put in a good word for you, so I wouldn’t be too nervous. ”

“Maria, leave the poor girl be! She’s a tough cookie, she can fend for herself!” Linda retorted. She could tell from the look on your face that this conversation was turning out to make you more anxious than expected. “It’ll be a fun time, mija. Drive home safe and we will see you tomorrow.” 

The 4 of you waved and said goodbye as you parted ways to your cars scattered across the parking lot. As you sat down in the driver’s seat, you couldn’t tell if you were covered in sweat from the hot, Texas sun beating through the windows of your car, or because the idea of tomorrow had you a hot mess. 

Your apartment was finally starting to feel like home. Pictures of your family hung on the walls, furniture finally delivered, contents of moving boxes unpacked and put away. You were a little too Type A for your own good, and while for the most part, your boxes had been sorted and organized you still didn’t feel settled until everything felt like it had a place. The last thing left to put away was a box marked “CHICAGO” that had sat in the corner of your living room, long after its counterparts had been sorted to their rightful home. You had told yourself that you needed to finally face unpacking this box before the school year came to an end, and with your countdown at 4 days, time was starting to run out. 

After you had finished putting away the contents of your school bag, you changed out your work clothes, tossing them in your hamper and rummaging through your dresser to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized Chicago Cubs shirt, its logo faded and fraying from all of its wear. On your way back to the living room, you passed through the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. If given a choice, it was always Miller Lite. Growing up with 3 older brothers, it was the beer they would sneak you sips of when your parents weren’t looking. It was the beer you drank in college, knowing that a night drinking most liquors would send you to an early grave the next morning. It was what you drank almost every night for months after finding out you had wasted years of your life with Paul, who couldn’t be bothered to give an apology for what he had done to hurt you. If there was one thing you were, it was a little too stubborn for your own good, and you and Miller Lite had a history you weren’t willing to part ways with now. 

That lead you back to public enemy #1- The “CHICAGO” box. You saw crossed legged on the floor as you rested your hand on your face, the other bringing the beer to your mouth for some liquid courage. The thing that frustrated you the most about this stupid box was that you knew exactly what was inside it. You could probably name where the contents were positioned inside the box. But every time you came close to ripping the packing tape off, you found yourself frozen in fear. If you opened that box, you would be admitting to the fact that when you were faced with the toughest moments in your life, you chose to run. Run half way across the country without looking back. And that- that made you feel a sense of cowardice that hung heavy on your conscience. You’d like to think that you were strong, determined, willing to stand up for yourself. But when it mattered most, you were none of those things. You were far from it. 

So here you were again. You and that damn box. After this week, you didn’t have it in you to intensify the staring contest you had started with an inanimate object, and the prospect of tomorrow was enough to ruin your mood over a stupid container full of things. Exhausted, you sat yourself down on the couch, curled up in a blanket and turned on the TV to watch the next NHL Playoff game. 

There were a lot of things you loved about Texas, but their lack of enthusiasm for hockey was a bit disappointing. When people asked you some of things you missed most about the midwest, a hockey fix was at the top of your list. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played, you were convinced you came out of the womb with skates on. You were also convinced the need to keep up with your brothers is what fueled the fire for your overly competitive nature. The only downside to your love for hockey was when it came to dating. Being around your brother’s teammates, you constantly heard “how hot it was” or that it was “so sexy” when girls knew about hockey, or sports in general. In reality, whenever you brought up your interest on dates, it backfired. It turned into “Well you only know about it because of your brothers” or “It’s weird that you play hockey, that’s too manly.” One man once made the mistake of taking you on a first date to a skating rink thinking it would be cute to teach you how to skate, until you lapped him several times as he wobbled like a baby deer, and made him storm off in anger because a girl was better at skating than him. His loss. 

Taking another sip of your beer, you could feel your eyelids growing heavy as you leaned your head further and further into your couch pillow. Despite trying your best to stay awake, exhaustion and comfort swept over your body, as you were lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of cheering and bullhorns coming from the TV. 

It wasn’t until you were greeted by a sharp, stiff pain in your back that you realized you had fallen asleep, curled up on your couch, not even making it into bed last night. You grunted and rolled over to look at the clock hanging above your kitchen counter 

10:13 AM

Shit. You were definitely not planning on sleeping in this late. The cookout wasn’t until 2:00, and all you had on your to-do list was to shower and get ready, but the last thing you wanted was for anything to make you late for something you had been looking forward to for the past 3 days. 

After taking what you so lovingly deemed the “3 hour shower” (washing and conditioning your hair, shaving, and scrubbing down every inch of your body), you stood wrapped in your towel, staring at your open closet.  You swiped through several pieces, throwing them down on the bed, bracing yourself for the personal fashion show that was about to ensue. 

Almost an hour later, and half your closet now scattered about on the floor, you were convinced that if you had woken up at 7:00 AM you still would be crunched for time trying to pick out an outfit. What the hell does someone wear to a casual cookout full of a bunch of people they don’t know, and one really hot one that they want to get to know better? 

After a few more combinations, you ruled out shirts and shorts, worrying that you were going to look too informal amongst a group of strangers. You dug back through your pile of dresses, trying a few back on hoping to find a solution. At 12:30, you landed on a baby blue sundress covered in small, white and pink flowers. Considering it was going to be 89 degrees today, you figured the spaghetti straps and knee length cut would be acceptable. It made you feel confident, and even a little sexy. After almost an hour of trying to toe the line between cute and casual, you threw on the dress and give yourself a quick run down in the mirror. Not half bad. You spent the last bit of time in the bathroom finishing your hair and a little bit of makeup, a routine you had down to a science, followed by swearing at yourself under your breath as you shoved the explosion of clothes on your floor back into your closet. 

As you gathered your things, you took one final deep breath for reassurance as you headed out the door and down the steps to the front of your apartment building. You had been to Maria’s house before for her Cinco de Mayo party, recalling directions and that it wasn’t too far of a walk from your house. The whole way there, your hands were balled in fists squeezing your fingers, fueled exclusively by your increasing anxiety as you got closer and closer to Maria’s house. Knowing the social butterfly Maria is, you shouldn’t have been shocked by the massive number of cars lining the street leading up to her residence. As you walked up to the back gate of the house, you took several deep breaths before mustering the courage to make the trek down to the party. With each step across the hot cement of the sidewalk, your brain swirled with questions 

“Is he already there? Is he actually excited about seeing me too, or do the ladies at work just feel bad for me and they’re trying to make me feel better? God, does he even remember that I’m coming or who I am? Fuck, was this dress even a good choice? What if I’m way too dressed up and he thinks I look like an idiot? Jesus, I hope they have alcohol at this thing. 

Your heart raced as you approached the gate to her backyard, with a sign in bright, colorful letters that read “Fiesta this way!”. As you pushed open the gate, you were greeted with the thick scent of meats cooking on the grill, followed by upbeat Latin music and chatter amongst the guests. When you looked around, you were greeted by a sea of unfamiliar faces. You began to walk further into the crowd when a tight embraced wrapped around you from behind. 

“MIJA! I’m so glad you came!” Maria’s familiarity gave you a slight sense of relief. “Listen, I have to go help with the food, but there are lots of drinks in the cooler so help yourself, food should be up in about half an hour! Not everyone is here yet, but if anyone comes looking for you, I’ll be sure to send them your way.” Before you could make any attempt at a comeback, Maria winked at you and escorted herself back to the porch to continue setting up dinner. 

Taking another sweep around the backyard, you made your way over to the drink coolers sitting on the side of the house, when you felt a tug at the bottom of your dress. Surprised, you turned around to see a small freckly face staring back up at you.  

“Extoose me. My big bwother says dat your his teacher and dat sometimes you pway with dem at weecess and dat dey weeelllllyyy want to pway baseball but none of da other gwownups will pway and dey need someone to pitch. Will you pweeeeseeee pway wif us?”

Looking up, you noticed a small group of kids gathered in a cluster now smiling and waving at you. 

“Hi, Alex. Hi, Sophia.” You waved back at two of the kids you knew from your class. “You know it’s okay to come ask me to play, you don’t have to send your little brother.” 

Alex looked at you with a sincerely confused look on his face. “I didn’t know if we were allowed to talk to our teacher if they’re not at school.” 

Sophia slapped him with the wiffle ball bat. “Of course you are, stupid. Teachers don’t live at school. They do real people stuff too.” 

“If I’m so stupid, why didn’t you ask her, Ms. Know-it-all?” 

As the two continued to argue, you took another look around at the party. With the familiar face count only at 3 (being Maria, and Estelle and Linda who you had waved to from afar), you realized that your choices were to either go converse with people you’ve never met, stand alone awkwardly, or go play baseball. The choice seemed easy enough. 

“It’s okay you guys, I’ll play with you. Only for a little bit though, okay?” 

The kids cheered as they placed a bag full of wiffle balls in your hands, glad to have an adult that would be able to throw a semi-hittable pitch. The kids took turns lining up to bat, as you threw towards them. Giving a little extra encouragement to the ones who needed it, you high-fived each kid as you let them have a “homerun” by running as fast as they could around the backyard. Noticing your collection of wiffle balls had dwindled down to zero, you sent the group of kids to scatter around the backyard to collect as many as they could. As you bent down and reached your hand out to pick up one of the balls close to you, a much larger hand set itself on top of yours. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve played, but I don’t think the pitchers are supposed to go out in the field to collect all the balls.” 

Shifting your gaze upwards from the grass, your eyes traveled up the length of the figure standing before you. Tight, dark washed jeans, followed by a white, short sleeved button up, that exposed the tanned skin of his chest. Next, a strong jaw and mustache, and deep, chocolate brown eyes that had lived vividly in your memory since first seeing them a few days ago. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have figured that you’re a teacher by day, MLB pitcher by night.” 

You shrugged your shoulders and mischievously rolled your eyes. “Damn, you caught me. My secret is ruined!” 

Javi shifted the hand that was on top of yours under your palm, engulfing your hand in a gentle grasp, pulling you up to a standing position. 

“Thanks.” you blushed as you brushed your hands down your sides to flatten your dress. You watched as Javi’s eyes darted looking you up and down, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip. 

“Can I uh, get you something to drink?” Javi asked. Noticing that his hand was still holding yours, he shifted his weight and tried to casually place his hands on his hips. 

“Yeah, a beer would be great. Unfortunately, I don’t think they allow players to drink on the field, but it looks like they called someone in from the bullpen to take my place so I should be in the clear.” You both laughed, looking over to see that none of the kids had seemed to care that you had gone missing, and someone else had gladly taken your place as pitcher. 

“I’ll be right back.” As you sat down at the edge of an empty picnic table on the patio, you couldn't help but gawk as Javier’s back turned to yours, revealing just how tight his jeans were and how broadly his shoulders stretched. His trip to get both of you drinks was prolonged by several people coming up to him, either shaking his hand or patting him on the back. You were curious why so many people had such an interest in Javi, and why he didn’t look thrilled about it. 

After a few minutes, Javi made his way back to you, two beers in hand. “Well, you sure seem like a popular guy, Mr. Peña.” He slid your drink across the table to you, letting out a small scoff at your comment. 

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been home.” He looked around as if he was checking to see that no one else was coming up to bother him. 

“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize. Do you mind me asking where you were?” You took a sip of your drink, and traced your thumb along the condensation of the bottle. 

Javi shifted in his seat and continued to look around. “I was uh, I was in Colombia working for the DEA.” It was his turn to take a much longer drink than the one that you just took. 

“Oh shit, like the Drug Enforcement Administration DEA?” 

“Last time I checked, that was the only DEA I knew of.” He looked down at his beer and let out an uncomfortable laugh. You had seen plenty about the happenings in Colombia on the news the past several years. Needless to say, none of it was “feel-good” content. Working for the DEA was one thing, but if he was down in Colombia? He would have really been in the thick of it. Putting two and two together, it now made sense why his trip to get you both drinks had taken so long. 

“Well, um, it does sound like a really interesting job. If you ever want to talk about it, I would love to listen. But I totally get the whole feeling uncomfortable when everyone thinks you’re a hero and wants you to tell them everything when all you want is to not talk about it at all.” You reached out to place your hand on top of his and give him a reassuring smile. He looked back at you with crinkled brows and genuine confusion. You could almost feel his demeanor shift, like you were the first person who had ever considered trying to understand how he felt about the situation he was in. “My dad was a firefighter, I had 2 brothers who were in the military and another brother who’s an EMT. Obviously it’s not fair to compare anyone’s jobs, but they always hated how everyone else felt entitled to their heroism when a lot of the time, they felt far from it.” 

He swallowed and clenched his jaw as his puppy dog brown brown eyes locked with yours. No one had ever even bothered to consider the fact that Javi had no interest in talking about his past. That the last thing he felt like was a hero, that he regretted the things he had done. Yet here you were, holding his hand, reassuring him he didn’t owe you anything. He opened his mouth to speak. 

“It’s okay, really.” You reassured him once more. “The one thing I do want to know…” Your voice trailed as you took another sip of your beer, Javi’s face once again shifting to concern “is how much Maria has told you about me, and how much damage control I need to be doing.” Breaking the silence, you and Javi both laughed to yourselves. You watched as the tension seemed to dissipate from Javi’s body.  

“I could say the same thing. If it makes you feel any better, the only thing I know about you is that you just moved here not that long ago from Chicago, and that Maria was very insistent that I would be an idiot if I tried to do anything to mess up my chances with a gorgeous girl like you.” 

“Well the first part is true. I moved here at the end of December, so that’s what? 4 months now? And yeah, I’ve lived in or just outside of Chicago my whole life, so it’s definitely taken some adjusting. The 2nd half seems like a bit of an exaggeration.” You had never been good at taking compliments, but you could feel your cheeks flush. 

“Damn, Chicago to Middle-of-Nowhere-Texas? That’s a big move. The 2nd part is definitely not an exaggeration in the slightest. You look…” His eyes shifted over you once more, biting down on his lower lip. “You look beautiful in that dress.” 

“PEÑAAAAAAA! How have you been?! Mierda, it’s been too long, amigo!” A clearly drunk party  goer was standing next to you and raised up a hand holding his beer, extending it towards Javi. As he continued to stumble toward Javi, he lost his balance, and the glass beer bottle he was holding slipped from his hands, shattering on the cement patio. Glass shards and beer foam went flying on contact, and your shin was in the way of the cross fire. 

“Jesus, that hurts, shit!” Looking down at your leg, you watched as blood dripped from the point where a piece of glass lodged its way into your skin. Javi looked like he was about to murder whatever drunken idiot had stumbled his way over to him, but before he could, he had already rushed around to the side of the table you were sitting at. You tried to get up  to get a better look at the damage, but Javi firmly grasped your hips and ran his hands down the sides of your thighs to sit you back in your seat. Well, being insanely turned by a man trying to help you get a piece of beer bottle out of your shin was a new first. 

“Don’t move. I don’t want the glass to shift around anymore and make the cut worse.” His hands still hadn’t left your thighs. 

“Javi, I’m fine. I can walk.” You began to stubbornly protest. You tried to hide the grimace on your face from the pain you felt as you began to stand up again. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’ll go find some first aid stuff and- OH, okay?!” 

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi had scooped you up like it was nothing and was carrying you bridal style towards the house. Your head rested against his chest, coming face to face with unbuttoned flaps of his shirt. His scent overwhelmed you, somehow smelling even better than when you bumped into him just a few days ago. The thumb of the hand that was holding you beneath your legs traced back and forth across your knee. 

“This seems a little unnecessary, don’t ya think?” Trying to hold it together, you looked up at Javi. 

“You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?” He looked down at you and shook his head with a slight grin on his face. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Javi made his way through the crowded patio to the sliding glass door that led into the house. 

“DIOS MIO, WHAT HAPPENED?!” Maria shrieked, her face darting between you, Javi, and the blood running down your leg. 

“I don’t know what to tell you Maria, the baseball game back there got pretty heated. Those kids are ruthless.” Your sarcasm clearly did not go over well, as Maria’s expression was now flooded with confusion and panic. 

Javi rolled his eyes. “Tell Don he needs to get his drunk-ass together. He dropped a bottle and it shattered, some of the pieces flew into her leg. I’m guessing the first aid kit is still in the upstairs closet by the bathroom?” 

“Yes, mijo, but-” 

“No, Maria, she doesn’t need to go to the hospital, I’ll take care of her.” Boy, have you never been so excited about being injured. 

“I don’t know, Maria, I think I’m dying!” You flopped one of your free hands up to your forehead, doing your best to look like a tragic Renaissance painting. 

You could tell Javi was trying his best not to laugh, knowing that Maria was already halfway to dialing 911. “She’ll be fine, I promise.” 

Javi used his hip to slide open the door, leading you through the kitchen and up the staircase. All jokes aside and adrenaline subsiding, you were now beginning to realize how much pain you were in as your legs jostled while Javi carried you up the stairs. You scrunched your face and bit down on your lip to try and ignore the pain, but it wasn’t doing much. Javi looked down at you, noticing your face. 

“Hermosa, are you okay? We’re almost upstairs, I’m sorry about that pendejo.” 

“Yup, I’ve never been better. I feel great, actually. LOVE having this piece of glass stuck in my leg!” You noticed your sarcasm meter was probably getting a little too high for the situation. “No it’s okay, thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” 

“Well, I wasn’t gonna let you bleed out on the patio.” As you crossed the threshold of the upstairs bathroom, Javi shifted you in his arms and sat you down on the top of the bathroom counter. He gave the top of your knees a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.” He made his way out of the bathroom, hearing him rummage around through the closet in the hallway. 

“Do I really have a choice?” You heard him chuckle from outside the door. He came back holding a first aid box and a few towels and squatted down in front of your leg dangling off of the countertop. 

“You help women take glass shards out of their legs at barbeques often?” You gestured down at the first aid kit, noting how fast he had found it. 

“Surprisingly, you are the first.” Opening up the kit, he pulled out a few supplies. “I spent a lot of time playing here as a kid, and definitely went through my fair share of band-aids.” Carefully, he placed one of his hands around the back of your leg, pulling it closer towards him. You were surprised that with hands as big as his, he was incredibly gentle. 

Trying to downplay your pain, you looked down at him and asked, “What’s the prognosis, Dr. Peña? Do I get to keep my leg, or are you destined to carry me everywhere for the rest of your life?” 

“As much as I would love to, I think you’re gonna make it out okay.” He plucked a pair of tweezers out of the kit and looked up at you with remorse. “I’m gonna pull it out, but it’s probably gonna hurt. Is that okay?” He rested his free hand on top of your thigh. “You can squeeze my hand if you need to.” 

Without hesitation, you released the hand that was gripping the edge of the counter so hard, your knuckles were turning white. You slowly interlaced his fingers with his, his thumb stroking back and forth over the side of your hand. 

“Okay, whenever you’re ready.” You said, beginning to squeeze his hand tighter. 

“Okay. 3…2…” 

“FUCK! Agh, so much for 1?! Holy shit, that hurt!” You were trying everything in your power to hold back the tears welling in your eyes, trying to be as tough as possible. 

“I could say the same for my hand. Jesus, you’ve got a death grip, hermosa. I’m surprised my fingers aren’t broken.” You released his hand as he laughed and shook it out, now using both to rummage through the first aid kit again. Pulling out some gauze and tape, he carefully wrapped up the cut and tied up the bandage to hold it in place. He was so attentive making sure that you were properly bandaged up, that it wasn’t until he heard your small sniffle that he looked back up at you, noticing a small tear streaming down your face.

Generally, you prided yourself on being pretty damn tough. Growing up with brothers, you learned to play rough and deal with the consequences. More importantly, you hated crying in front of other people. Trying to quickly regain your composure, you tried to subtly wipe the tears off your cheeks, hoping Javi wouldn’t notice. Slowly, he rose up, placing one hand on the counter just outside your hips, the other coming up to your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the wetness under your eyes. 

“I promise I’m not a baby, this shit just really hurt.” You said, trying to defend yourself. His hand cupped the side of your face.

“Cariño, you don’t need to apologize.” He leaned his body in closer to yours, your faces now only inches away. “You’ve been un soldado, if anything.” 

“A what?” You were surprised your brain even had the capacity for questioning at this point. 

“A trooper” Javi leaned in closer, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “So much so, you’re making it hard for me to try and take care of you, considering how damn stubborn you are.” His words whispered down the side of your neck, followed by another kiss. You could feel your heart racing, your breath becoming heavier with each word. Slowly, his body shifted down between the opening of your legs, his hands wrapping around your injured calf, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your bandage. 

Your mouth hung half open, praying that your brain would concoct a half coherent sentence. Your hand traveled down to brush the top of Javi’s soft, curled hair, forcing his gaze to shift back up to you. “Last time I checked, I don’t think doctors are supposed to kiss their patients” 

He stood back up, both hands now cupping your face as he leaned in and whispered, “well it’s a good thing I’m not really a doctor, am I?” Your mouths met with a magnetic attraction. His hand had now slipped behind your head, raking his fingers through your hair as he pulled you in closer. Your hands that had been grasping the edge of the counter as a form of self control now freed themselves, grasping around Javi’s biceps, reciprocating the closeness you craved. Your body lit up with an electricity that no kiss had ever made you feel before. His hands began traveling down your body, his intensity causing you to let out a small, breathy moan. Your legs slowly wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him tighter. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs as his hands grasped the meat of your thighs as they slowly slid their way under the hem of your dress. 

“JAVI?! MIJA?! IS EVERYTHING OKAY?? DO I NEED TO CAL 911?? THERE BETTER NOT BE BLOOD ON MY BATHMAT, I JUST WASHED IT.” 

Both out of breath, your mouths parted as Maria’s shrill voice carried up the stairs. You had blacked out for the last few minutes, forgetting you were sitting on top of your co-worker’s bathroom counter, door wide open. Javi rested his head in the crook of your shoulder as he whispered “God dammit, Maria…” under his breath.

“Impeccable timing on her part, to be fair.” 

“IF YOU DON’T RESPOND I’M COMING UP THERE AND CALLING THE AMBULANCE!” 

“All good, Maria!” You shouted down, Javi’s face still resting by your neck. “Dr. Peña told me it was a close one, but I’m  gonna make it out alive.” You both giggled. “We’ll be down in a second!” 

“Are you gonna clear me to walk, or am I getting carried again?” You said, giving him a playful nudge.

He gave you a quick kiss. “Just take it easy okay?” Grabbing your wait, he lifted you up and helped you off the counter. He gestured his arm towards the doorway. “After you.” 

After you had hobbled your way down the stairs, you and Javi found empty patio chairs along the fence of the yard. After you had sat down semi-comfortably, Javi started making his way back toward the house. “Drink?” He said, looking back at you and continuing his stride. 

“As long as you don’t drop it on me, absolutely.” 

You were shocked by how quickly the next few hours went by as you sat and talked with Javi. The conversation flowed between you effortlessly as you covered the basic conversations, like your likes and dislikes, favorite things and families. You had even worked up the nerve to tell him how you ended up in Laredo after you broke things off with Paul. Now a few drinks in, your liquid courage had you diving in deeper. 

“So, tell me this, Javi. You are arguably one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. You nursed me back to health from what was clearly a life or death experience, and you have impeccable taste, besides the fact that you haven’t seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, or Star Wars, or E.T., which I will forgive you for, as long as you do good on your promise to watch it with me. You have also proven to be an exceptional kisser. How the hell are you still single? Is there something I’m missing? Are you like, secretly married and have a family, a serial killer, wanted by the FBI, are the people at this party a part of some sort of secret cult that’s gonna kidnap me?! C’mon, there’s gotta be something?!” 

Javi coughed on the beer that he had just sipped down his throat. “Jesus quierda, no! What would make you think that?” 

“You seem too good to be true, there’s gotta be a flaw somewhere, c’mon!!” 

“Well, I’m gonna take the high road and assume you’re not any of those things, I could say the same about you. This is most fun I’ve had since being back home.” 

You raised your eyebrows and gave him a questionable gaze. 

“I’m being serious, hermosa.” You could feel in his words that he meant it. 

“Well I’m glad. This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time too.” 

You sat in a comfortable silence. Looking around, you noticed that not only had the sun gone down, but the once bustling backyard had now dwindled down to only a few party goers on the patio and a small crowd inside. The last thing you wanted to do was leave, but you also didn’t want to be walking alone at night, half hobbling from your injury. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry, believe me, the last thing I want to do right now is leave, but I probably should start waking home before it gets too late. Not a huge fan of being a woman walking alone in the dark, ya know?” 

Javi quickly set down his beer. “You were going to walk home?!” 

“What, I’m not allowed to walk?! I don’t live that far, and it won’t take that long, I’ll be fine!” You crossed your arms in defiance.

“The shuffle across the yard I watched you take to go to the bathroom an hour ago says otherwise. Hermosa, let me drive you home, please?” 

Too in pain to prove a point, you let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.” 

“Thank you. I know you CAN do it, but I will carry your stubborn ass back before I let you walk. Here.” 

He extended his arm out to help pull you out of your seat. He followed your lead taking slow steps across the yard, leading you out to the street where his truck was parked. Before you could argue, he opened up the passenger side door and lifted you up into the seat. “Just gotta get the keys from my pops and then I’ll be right back. 

“What if I try to make a break for it?” 

“It won’t take me long to catch you.” 

“Touché.” 

Javi closed the door behind him as he headed his way back into the house. Watching him in stride, you really needed to thank whoever made those jeans. 

Javi found his dad amongst his friends at the kitchen table inside, talking and laughing amongst themselves. “Hey Pops, can I have the keys?” 

Chucho took a sip of his beer and looked around at his friends. “Seems like things are going well then, huh?” The men chuckled to one another. “She’s very cute, Javi. Seems like she doesn’t put up with your Mireda either, I’m surprised she wants to spend more time with you!” 

“Well she lives close and walked here and after Don’s clumsy ass still broke a bottle in her leg, I’m not gonna let her walk home. Believe me, I was worried I was gonna have to carry her.” 

“I’m giving you a hard time, Javi. Here, take the keys. Don’t worry about me, I’m sure one of these fine gentleman will give this old man a ride home.” 

“Thanks pop.” Javi took the keys that were outstretched in his father’s hand. As he began to walk back out to the car, he grabbed Javi’s arm. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like you have tonight. It’s a good look on you, hijo.” 

[suzukiblu]

Day fifteen of fic NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon grins wider, then holds his cup out to him. Specifically, he tilts it so Tim can take a sip instead of just giving it to him. 

Bastard. Bastard-coated bastard with bastard-flavored nougat-y filling and a bastardly ganache coating and bastard sprinkles on top. 

Bastard. 

Tim thinks several more accusing things, then leans over and tries the smoothie. It does taste pretty good, though it’s a little too sweet for him to want to drink the whole cup. Blackberry is definitely more his thing. 

“Not bad,” he says anyway, because it’s not and also goddammit, Kon is still grinning at him. Because again: bastard. Absolute full and complete and entire bastard. 

“Yeah, for the East Coast, at least,” Kon replies with an easy shrug, reclaiming his cup for another sip. Tim does not think about indirect kissing or anything that ridiculously juvenile and middle-school. Not at all. Not even slightly, in fact. “I dunno, the whole thing just reminds me, um . . . like, I didn’t really do the whole ‘childhood’ thing, obviously, but you know that thing where people talk about extra-liking stuff they used to eat when they were kids? Tropical flavors kinda make me feel like that. Comfort food or whatever. I mean, it’s not Loco Moco or musubi, obviously, but . . .” 

Tim blinks, makes a few mental notes, and wonders if there’s a single actually authentic Hawaiian restaurant in Gotham. Maybe? There’s got to be at least a decent food truck or two around, if nothing else. There’s always a food truck. 

He could probably bribe one to come into the city for a day or two, if it comes to it. 

“That makes sense,” he says, since technically Kon’s childhood pretty much was in Hawaii. He refuses to count the stupid fucking cloning tube, because counting the stupid fucking cloning tube is literally too depressing a thought to even contemplate. Fuck the stupid fucking cloning tube. Fuck it sideways. 

Maybe Tim can just bribe a Hawaiian food truck to set up in Kon’s future cul-de-sac once a week or something, once he's conned him into moving into it. Just include it in their usual schedule or something, he doesn’t know. Or at least drop off a regular lunch order for him, maybe. 

Whatever, he’ll work something out. He’s going to be working a lot of things out, at this point; hooking Kon up with a regular supply of his childhood comfort foods is not even an imposition. He doesn’t even know what either Loco Moco or musubi is, but he’ll put them on the list and do his damn research. He'll go to Hawaii and hire a personal chef straight from the source if he has to, at this point. 

“Can I try yours?” Kon asks, grin going sly again. Tim’s head immediately empties out all over again, and he mutely holds his cup out. Kon’s grin widens. 

He leans in and ducks his head and Tim has to deal with how long his eyelashes are and just how pretty his stupid face is and, worse, how pretty his stupid mouth is. 

Fuck’s sake, this is just not fair at all. He knows Kon’s a flirt, obviously, but does he have to actually be good at it? Because Tim is not used to him being good at it, actually! Usually he’s being overbearing and too-eager and weird about it, in fact! 

Tim has the unfortunate thought that maybe Kon always flirts like this and he’s just not seeing it as overbearing or too-eager or weird because it’s focused on him for once, then immediately dismisses said thought as a thought he absolutely cannot allow himself to ever have again. Just–ever. Not for anything. 

Jesus, what is his fucking life right now? 

Kon leans back; licks his lips. Tim dies, kind of. Like, just a little bit. 

Alright, maybe more than a little bit. 

“I like it,” Kon says, grinning at him. Tim tries not to think about how intimately he now knows how Kon’s mouth would taste right now, sharply sweet-sour with blackberry and tropical fruit and all warm and soft and wet and–never mind.

“Want a pretzel too?” he offers in a hopefully normal voice, tipping his head towards the stand. 

“Sure,” Kon says, glancing towards it. “Sounds good, man.” 

“Cool,” Tim says, incredibly awkwardly, and they head over. He orders a regular pretzel because he doesn't know Caroline Hill's pretzel order anymore than he knows her smoothie order, but “regular” isn't going to be interesting enough for Kon to make a note of either way. Possibly he should just be ordering things Tim Drake would, but the flaw in that plan is that Tim Drake isn't thinking very clearly right now and it is currently much, much easier to be in mission-mode than anything else. 

Kon orders a cinnamon-sugar pretzel. Tim wishes the bastard would stop eating things that taste good, but also recognizes that it’s his fault that the bastard's been eating things that taste good. He’s literally the one both suggesting and buying said things for him. 

So Kon’s mouth is about to taste like cinnamon sugar right now because of Tim, which is actually making the fact that Kon’s mouth is about to taste like cinnamon sugar right now infinitely worse. 

Tim pays. They get the pretzels. Kon immediately tears off a bite of his and Tim wishes he had a cover identity that didn't like cinnamon, or at least was allergic to it or diabetic or gluten-intolerant or something. He could use a cover identity like that to fall back on right now. 

“Wanna bite?” Kon offers. 

“I'm good,” Tim says, because he will literally die if he takes him up on that offer right now. Or possibly go criminally insane like fifteen years ahead of schedule, which would be its own problem. He doesn't have enough kryptonite for that yet. “You like it?” 

He doesn’t know why he asked that. Apparently he’s just a glutton for punishment. 

“Yeah,” Kon says, licking sugar off his lips. “It’s good.” 

“Good,” Tim says, then desperately flails for a subject that doesn’t involve the way anything currently in Kon’s mouth tastes. “Do you have a personal phone or just a work one?” 

“Just work, technically. And then, like, I get issued communicators when I need them,” Kon replies, looking puzzled. “Why?” 

Because Cadmus could very easily track and tap and block whatever numbers they wanted on that, Tim doesn’t say. 

“I’m trying to get your number and I don’t want to call you on your work phone,” he says. “That seems weird.” 

“You a little on the shy side, pretty boy?” Kon asks teasingly, flashing him a smirk. Tim does not examine anything about that statement or his own feelings about it. He also does not think about what Kon’s mouth tastes like, though Kon makes that incredibly difficult by immediately taking another bite of pretzel. 

Has Tim mentioned what a bastard he is yet? Because he is a bastard.

“I’m buying you a phone,” he says, deciding if he just acts like it’s a foregone conclusion and some small little thing, Kon’s likelier to not reject the offer. “I cannot mentally deal with the idea of your boss seeing what I text you about on some random weekly report.” 

“You can’t, huh,” Kon says, biting his lip around a grin and shifting in a little bit closer. “Why, Tim? What are you gonna text me about?” 

Tim realizes how that might’ve sounded much too late, but by then it’s too late to rephrase or backtrack, so fuck it: time to commit. 

“Depends on what you text back, I guess,” he says. Kon laughs, then grins at him again. His face is a little red again too. Tim is resigned to having to survive the experience. 

“Well, I guess you’d have my number if you got me a phone, huh,” Kon says. 

“I would, yes,” Tim says. He’s going to have to resist asking Kon to turn on “find my phone”, probably. Or adding any trackers or bugs to it. It’s the Bat instinct, but it’d probably creep Kon out if he caught a “civilian” doing anything like that. And also definitely concern him, what with the “supervillain creep” concerns he was already having. And Tim would have a really hard time paying for Kon’s entire life if Kon decided he was a supervillain before he’s even become a supervillain, so he’d prefer to avoid that outcome. 

He guesses Caroline Hill could give it a shot if Tim Drake can’t pull it off, though. She’d still probably have better chances than him anyway, given Kon’s usual taste in people. 

They eat their pretzels on the way to the electronics store and Tim tries to plot how to convince Kon to let him get him the best possible phone but is incredibly, incredibly distracted by watching him lick cinnamon sugar off his fingers. Tim actually hasn’t seen Kon with his gloves off too many times, come to think of it. Or possibly, like . . . ever. Like, he might’ve actually never seen him with his gloves off before. 

Alright, well, that’s a thing that he hadn’t yet realized and is now going to be completely normal about. 

Definitely normal. Very, very normal. So normal. 

They toss out their empty pretzel wrappers outside the store and Kon licks a little more sugar off the pad of his thumb. Tim wonders if he has any callouses. Probably not, considering the TTK, but who knows. Maybe he trains with it down? Or maybe TTK just doesn’t protect his skin quite that thoroughly. Tim’s never actually seen him get cut or scratched or even bruised, though, so . . . maybe? 

He really has no idea, at this point. 

He supposes he could ask. Tim Drake’s already said he knew about tactile telekinesis and that he did some research, so . . . 

“Does TTK protect you from callouses?” he asks, gesturing at Kon’s hands with his smoothie and a little too curious to repress the question. Kon tilts his head and smirks at him again. 

“You tell me,” he says, then casually reaches over and catches Tim’s free hand in his own. 

Tim had thoughts in his head at some point today, he’s pretty sure, but hell if he knows what any of them were.

[salty-autistic-writer]

For @bucktommyweek, June 5: "Bad Weather Days" Title: Healing Love

Summary: Or: One time Buck gets sick, one time Tommy gets sick plus one time they both get sick. (For Bucktommy / Tevan week Day: Bad Weather Days)

~

Buck doesn’t get sick often. 

Usually, his immune system shakes off any kind of bacteria or virus that tries to invade his body. But now, for the first time in years, he’s hit with a sickness like a truck. It might be the flu. Whatever it is, it seems to be the Queen bee of sickness, sending her worker-bacteria everywhere to shut down Buck’s immune system and force him to stay in bed the whole day.

It’s horrible. Ugly. Nasty. And it overwhelmed him in the middle of the night.

Buck’s nose won’t stop running. He can barely breathe. His eyes are red, swollen and itchy. There is a persistent scratching sensation in his throat that forces him to dry-cough every few seconds. His bed is surrounded by crumpled used tissues. He feels too hot in his own skin like he’s boiling from the inside.

Damnit. He can’t go anywhere like this. It’s his day off anyway. Of course, it is. But Tommy and he had a dinner night with a Star Wars marathon - and mind-blowing sex, obviously - planned, since Tommy doesn’t have to work either, which rarely ever happens. Great.

With a heavy heart, Buck pulls out his phone and writes a message to Tommy.

Sorry, we have to postpone movie night, I’m sick. 😷

Tommy answers almost immediately. How sick? 😨 You need a doctor? I can drive you.

Buck smiles through another terrible painful coughing fit. How can Tommy be that cute? He’s so … thoughtful, considerate and sweet. Buck doesn’t know how he deserved this. He’s really not that special. But Tommy looks at him like he is.

He types: Might be the flu. I think I just have to lay here and endure this.😞

Ok. I’ll come over and cuddle you.

Wait, what?! Buck hesitates, his fingers hovering above his phone. Tommy can’t mean that. Buck is one big living bacteria, coming here would surely make Tommy sick too.

But then you’ll get sick too!, he types, frowning.

I don’t care. You need endless cuddles. And tea. And food.

Buck has to bury his face in a pillow for a moment, like an embarrassed blushing teenager. 

Oh God. He is so in love, it’s ridiculous. His stomach is full of fluttering butterflies and his ears are burning and he feels dizzy in a good way. Right now, he wants nothing more but Tommy by his side, fussing over him and taking care of him, if he’s being honest.

Buck never had that. Not like this. 

He wants it. But there’s a persistent nagging voice in the back of his mind, admonishing him: Don’t be a burden, don’t ask for too much, don’t be too demanding, don’t be too much!

Buck swallows. He nervously chews on his lip and types: You’re sure???, while thinking: Please be sure …

Yeah.

Buck smiles and starts to feel a suspicious burning in his eyes. He tries to figure out how he can show Tommy through text what this means to him.  

What did I do to deserve you?🥲

Hmmmm. You booked a helicopter ride into a hurricane?

I did. Thank God, I did, Buck writes back, his heart jumping a loop in his chest.

Yes. Thank God, you did. See you soon, babe. Don’t die.

Buck’s laugh turns into a cough. I’ll try not to.  ~

Buck falls asleep while waiting for Tommy. Fortunately, they already exchanged keys. So he gets to wake up to the smell of tea and soup. And to Tommy, sitting on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through Buck’s sweat-soaked hair. Even though Buck’s head is swimming in fever-induced fog by now, he’s so happy to see Tommy, he smiles and tries to tell Tommy, only to break into a cough again.

“Hey,” Tommy says, worry filling his eyes. He puts the back of his hand against Buck’s forehead and frowns. “You’re too hot.”

Buck groans and leans into the touch. Tommy’s hand is so cool. It’s heaven … “No,” he says, his eyes snapping open, when he feels Tommy’s touch leave. “No. Please. Don’t.”

Tommy puts his hand back. “Jesus, Evan. I think we should get you to the hospital.”

“No. No hospital,” Buck groans, putting his own hand on Tommy’s. “Please. Can’t. I’m sick of it.”

“I get that. After everything you told me, I think they might have a bed with your name on it reserved for you,” Tommy says dryly. “Ok. No hospital. For now. But if the fever rises any higher, I’m going to carry you to my car and drive you to the ER. We clear?”

“Alright,” Buck grumbles. “M fine.”

“You’re really not,” Tommy sighs. “Anyway, we should get some fluids into you, ok? You’re sweating like crazy.”

Tommy is right. And it’s gross. Buck is gross. He grimaces. “Sorry …”

“You got nothing to apologize for, kid,” Tommy says, his fingers brushing Buck’s hair back from his forehead. “Now let me get you some tea and soup, alright?” ~

“Are you not scared of getting sick?” Buck croaks, his head resting on Tommy’s chest. They’re together in Buck’s bed now, after Tommy cleaned up and fed Buck soup and made him enough Chamomile tea to last a whole day. He also got Cough syrup and lozenges. Not to forget the month’s supply of Ibuprofen.

Buck feels better already. It’s so nice to be taken care of. He could get used to this. And he slowly reaches the point where he can actually allow himself to enjoy this. It feels like Tommy's care makes the bad intrusive thoughts fade away into an inaudible static noise. Drowned out by the heart-fluttering rhythm of I'm loved.

“No, I have a pretty strong immune system,” Tommy says with a chuckle. “Also I care more about you right now. You shouldn’t be alone like this.”

Buck feels like crying again. “Thank you for being here. I … I wish I could tell you how I feel about this, but, but, but -” He sneezes violently.

Tommy laughs and hands Buck a tissue. Then gives him a kiss on his head. “I know. It’s alright, love. Just focus on getting healthy again, alright? We can talk later, after you stop exploding.”