#fridge x the mr lunch

[s4uddy]

Finally made a fridge x the Mrs lunch fanchild

[cmdrfupa]

Lifetime

post shibuya!nanami x caregiver!reader

A series dedicated to healing and letting yourself have a second chance in this lifetime.

Inspired by this song that brings me to tears every single time.

content warning: shibuya arc, mentions of death, mental health awareness, angst(eventual comfort), burn victim so expect some detailed imagery.

wc: 4.9k

an: thank you for reading. I love you lots.

I.

Time seemed to trickle as Nanami waited for his physical therapist to arrive.

First at home session since being discharged.

4 days a week, 30 minutes a day.

“Individualized exercise program including rigorous activities as you progress to help you regain your independence.. Sure.” Nanami read from the pamphlet out loud and sighed as he looked over the stack of literature he left the rehab facility with.

He was thankful that he was deemed fit enough to continue his healing at home after 11 weeks in the best facility Gojo could find. While it accommodated every possible concern one could have, he was certain he wouldn’t feel confident in being self sufficient until he was able to put all he had learned into practice at home.

So there he was, sifting through paperwork and sipping his coffee as he awaited his new physical therapist and as Ino finished cleaning his kitchen.

“I think thats it! Lunch is in the black container on the top shelf in the fridge and I’ve prepped dinner for when Gojo comes to cook. Anything else before I’m off?” Takuma grabbed his keys, the jangle bringing Kento out of his reading trance as he looked up.

“Yes, that should be fine. I appreciate you coming over every morning Takuma. But it’s not necessary.”

Takuma scoffed, almost offended at the idea. “Nonsense. Its just a little breakfast and lunch. Its on my way to the school anyway. Consider it a small help.”

He could protest but Takuma would simply find another way to make himself useful. Whether it be taking him to his appointments or coming to slather his injuries: he was going to find a way to be of help.

As he adjusted his cast as best he could, a text popped up from an unsaved number.

>Hello, Mr. Nanami! Currently heading to you. ETA is ten minutes.

Signed with your name, Nanami simply reads the text and reacted to the message with thumbs up.

“Thank you, Takuma. Truly. But I think thats everything. My physical therapist is on their way so I’ll just hang out til then.”

“Alrighty! I’ll be working mostly on campus so just shoot me a text if you need me. Take it easy, Nanami.” with that, Ino grabbed his jacket and proceeded out the front door.

Nanami exhaled and got up to sit at the window. The mid morning sun was gentle but insistent, that soft golden hue brightening everything it touched.

It wasn’t harsh, just warm enough to remind Nanami of the outside world, a quiet promise that time was still moving. The warmth on his right side almost felt foreign as the dust mites danced lazily in the light. He closed his eyes, taking in the fragile sense of something stirring inside of him­— reposeful comfort in the way the sun didn’t have a sudden, overwhelming wave of joy but a soft declaration that he was still here.

Nanami hadn’t had many moments to really think about just how life changing the incident had been. Half of his body littered in 3rd degree burns, a third of that, 4th degree. Loss of hair on one side, an eye patch over his eye and a lack of feeling down his left arm.

He’d looked at himself in the mirror exactly once since the incident and didn’t do it again until he acquired his face prosthetic recently.

It was bulky and itchy, but it alleviated the deformities and more importantly, kept him from being too hard on his own appearance.

The moment felt necessary. Reminding him that the sun remained a constant while other things changed.

“I’ll need to see if I can sit outdoors for a few minutes a day. Would be good for me.” he noted outwardly before a light tapping at the front door had him shuffling towards the foyer.

One moment, please.” he paused a few paces before he reached the door to look down, remembering his shirt had a hole near the hem of it. He didn’t have time to change but only hoped the therapist wouldn’t see him as some undetermined slob with no real concern on how he looked.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Mr. Nanami?”

“That would be me.”

“Perfect! Hello! I was sent by the health and wellness agency as part of your transitioning to home health care. We have an appointment. May I come in?”

No scrubs, no accessories to signify you were a medical professional. Just a badge clip holding your ID with “HHA” boldly sitting under your name.

“Sure. Come on in.” He led you into the house, slowly walking into the living room and nodding towards the couch as you stood next to him.

You grin and sat on the far end of the couch, near the window, “Thank you.” you sat your tote littered in small pins on the coffee table and pulled out a somewhat thick file.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water, coffee?��

Shaking your head, you tapped the top of your bag. “No thank you. I have my tumbler. But I appreciate it!”

Nanami slightly bowed his head and sat in the solo chair next to the couch. “Alright so, how do we start this? I was told I’d see you four days a week with one more day possibly if I need to.”

You pursed your lips, looking down at your paperwork before looking back up to meet his neutral gaze.

“I believe that’s your physical therapist that you will be seeing four days out of the week.”

“Then pardon me for being so… impolite. But who are you exactly?”

The laugh that left your lips was a soft one but enough for Kento to lift his lips into a slight smile.

“I realize your discharge team didn’t give you names, faces, or titles. My apologies.”

“It happens.”

You continued. “I’m your Home Health Care Provider. While you were still in recovery, you met with your primary care provider and you spoke of your in home care, correct?”

Nanami nodded. “Yes.”

“Going over the team you’d have for your in housee rehabilitation, you were assigned a home health aide 5 days a week.”

His brow furrowed. “So you are that, I assume?”

“Yes. I will also be the one looking over the full team that provides you with your in-home care.”

“This feels very unnecessary.” The tone in his response was sharp. “I have people who come to help me with my daily needs. Having an entire team sounds like an exhausting back and forth to have coming to my house. A waste of resources.”

Your demeanor remained soft and understanding as you listened to his concerns. “Mr. Nanami. I understand that it sounds overwhelming. If I had to be in the predicament of needing a care team after an incident, I too would be a bit apprehensive.”

“But you aren’t. I am.”

The immediate smile that grew on your face wasn’t one that came from kindness. It was your defense, albeit an understandable one. “You are correct. I’m not. But I implore to at least hear me out on why its important to have us.”

A rush of emotions filled Kento’s chest. He wanted to pull his hair out from sheer frustration. But he remained calm.

His discomfort was obvious to you and you wanted to remedy the ache somehow.

“I want you to have an idea of what this could look like as you approach the first steps of gaining a sense of normalcy. Would you be willing to let me give you an example of what a week may look like for you? And if you don’t like it, we can adjust to a schedule that fits better for you.”

“Let’s hear it, then.”

“Splendid.” You reached into your file and pulled out a thoroughly detailed schedule and turned it for Nanami to look along with you.

“So, this schedule is based loosely on the day to day you had while in the rehab facility. No matter who, anything involving someone from your team wouldn’t be arriving until 10am. This is unless you decide to utilize me. Then I would be here at 7 every morning to aide you with your morning routine.”

“What if I don’t want extensive help?”

“I would respect the boundary.”

Nanami took a closer look at the schedule, seeing the words ‘kitchen prep healing exercise’ highlighted for every Tuesday and Thursday. “What does this entail? Kitchen prep healing.”

“Your passions shouldn’t suffer because of changes. So I created a regimen that would help us get in the kitchen and get busy while making sure we help maintain your range of motion and fine motor skills.”

Nanami looked up at you for a moment, trying to assess just how serious you were about changing what he was uncomfortable with.

“So if I only need you for meal prep and assisting with chores around my house.”

“Then I will only help you with meal prep and assisting with your chores around the house.”

He handed the schedule back to you. “And if it isn’t something that I’ve mentioned?”

Trying to test you. Cute. “If you mention to me that would like me to assist you in going to the grocery store, fixing your bed, helping you get ready for your appointments, then I will. Because my goal is having you confident in yourself and your abilities.”

That nagging feeling of what if filled his chest and mind. Nanami knows he can’t do it alone. But to be a burden is the last thing he wants to ever become.

“I don’t want to become too dependent on you and your teams’ services.” He sat up as best he could, stretching out his legs and wincing at the unexpected intensity of his blood flowing through his left leg.”

Not wanting to lose the momentum, you sat on the edge of the couch alert of and aware of the pain he showed. “Your independence will not falter. We are merely an extension. We are the claw arm that’s in your reach if the jar of pickles are too high up, if you will.”

Nanami tried to stop the half smile on his face but faltered. “I understand.”

“Do you have any questions for me?” You smiled politely.

“A few,” Nanami cleared his throat. “When it comes to changing my dressings..”

“I will be the only one who sees them completely outside of your primary physician.” You answered, as if you were waiting for that specific question.

“Second question: can you properly fold a fitted sheet?”

You laughed, nodding. “The trick is in how you hold the corners. Line up the creases and you’ll always have a perfect fold.”

Nanami nodded. “Interesting.” The intense blood flow in his legs ceased and his body noticeably relaxed. He sat forward. “Final question, if you were to start tomorrow, could we have your start time for 8am? I like having the first hour of the day to myself.”

“If you want me here at 8 am, I will be at the door by 7:55 to knock at 7:59.”

The moment of silence was filled with hope as you realized you got to him. You let him see genuine concern and thats all he wanted. But this was only the beginning. And you were willing to be his guide to a sense of independence all the way through.

___________________________________________

The silence of the early morning was heavier than usual— a quit hum of of the refrigerator reached his room as he slept with his bedroom door open now, a new practice he’s since learned is a response to his trauma.

He sat on the side of his bed, staring down at his slippers that warmly held his feet as the barely visible morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and unrelenting.

“I embrace healing.” He spoke out loud, his voice still low, sleep riddened, as he slowly rose from the bed and grabbed his cane.

“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is still new to you, Kento. Its okay to not know what to do.”

Mornings were more of a drag than he would like for them to be.

His body was more stiff. More rigid. He needed 30 minutes minimum to sit on the side of the bed and stretch just to muster up enough internal energy to get up and grab his cane.

He sounded off, flipping the bathroom light on and adjusting the sink to run warm water. “Today will be a great day.” He washed his hands, meticulously washing between his fingers and flicking the excess off his fingers before he dried them, reaching for a clean towel and letting it soak under the faucet.

“You will be more than okay.” this time, he spoke as if someone would overhear him talking to his self.

Nanami shook his head, lowly chuckling at what he found himself doing.

Yuji began to send him various videos that initiated ‘positive self talk’ and ‘daily affirmations for healing the body.’ Yuji hoped to try and help expedite a process that Megumi told him more than fives times, would take awhile.

Slowly pulled away the dressing on his cheek, Nanami watched small bits of dead tissue peel away from his healing skin. He threw it in the trash hamper, then pumped a small dot of antimicrobial soap on the wet towel he’d soaked and gently began to wash his face.

He looked closely, inspecting every patch he wiped over to take notice of any changes in how his skin looked. He tried very, very hard to not look into his own eyes.

Rinsing and patting to dry, he washed his hands again then reached for the jar of salve, precisely swiping a thin layer over his left cheek and forehead before he placed his transparent face mask on.

Finishing up his morning bathroom routine went without a rush. Going to throw on yet another loose fitting t-shirt and casual pants before sliding his slippers back on.

Slow and steady. Nice and easy.

“I am going to have a great day today.” the rubber end of his walker softly thudded against the wooden floors as he made his was down the hall. “It is a new day. New chances.”

He wasn’t going to confirm or deny if these affirming exercises were doing anything. But he’d admit that saying them aloud was probably the silliest he’d felt ever doing anything.

The living room held a welcoming warmth as he drew the blinds open that faced the street.

The third floor apartment view was always the one thing that made the asking price of his condo worth it to him.

The patchwork of traditional rooftops and modern buildings met the edge of the cities outskirts. Bare branches stood against the pale early morning winter sky, hints of early plum blossoms added a hint of a spring that would soon come and wipe away the muted landscape.

Kento sat on the window seal, taking in the low mountains in the distance. That thin veil of mist hiding the peaks that were still dusted in snow. With a deep inhale, he looked down at the street to see a bundled up pedestrian loading his car with boxes as another, that looked only slightly familiar, was exiting their car in a slow jog to the front steps of his building.

He glanced over at the clock on the wall.

7:55 am.

“Timely.”

slowly, he went to open the rest of the blinds around the living room, a slow tango that made him a feel like he still had just enough control, timing the last curtain opening perfectly as your soft knock filled the foyer yet again.

He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the frame, before opening the door and stepping aside in a half step to let you in. His expression was neutral — not unkind, but carefully composed, as if he were still deciding how much space to give you in his life.

“Good morning,” you spoke softly, offering a polite smile.

“Morning,” Nanami replied, his voice low and steady. “I was about to make myself a simple breakfast. Coffee too.”

It wasn’t quite an invitation, but it wasn’t a dismissal either. It was just a statement — a line drawn firmly down the middle.

You nodded. “That sounds good.”

You sat your bag down on the ottoman against the wall and followed his lead. The condo was quiet — too quiet, the kind that felt deliberate. Like he'd stripped the space of anything deemed unnecessary. A few trinkets here and there, clean lines, muted colors.. But the kitchen felt like the homeliest part of the space.

Black stainless steel appliances, cold press juicer and blender sitting on the counter. A top of the line built-in double electric convection wall oven, a display of every herb and spice on a dark mahogany shelf sitting high on the wall.

“You have a very beautiful kitchen.” Your eyes grazed over the quartz cabinets, taking in the light blue finishes until you landed on what you knew to be as the best stand mixer that only experts chefs and bakers would have.

“You have a Bosch… Its even more beautiful in person.” You inspected it as if it were a lost artifact seeing the light for the first time in 500 years.

Nanami cocked his head for a moment. “Are you that taken by a stand mixer?”

“Mr. Nanami, I’d have to work 3 weeks nonstop to not only get the mixer but to financially recover from it.”

Your half suppressed laugh had Kento smiling. “Understandable. It is a big purchase. I use to bake fresh bread for my weekly use.”

“You’ll have to give me a demonstration one day! Would love to see the Bosch in action.”

Nanami raised his brows. “You think I can get back to that one day?”

The small flick of something resembling hope flecked in the richest parts of his brown eyes.

“We can get you back to that. I’m sure of it.”

He nodded, a silent acceptance of an unspoken challenge. He opened the refrigerator, bearing his weight on the cane as he used his dominant hand to grab the butter, holding it out.

“Do you mind taking things as I pass them to you?”

You reached out, taking the butter and placing it on the counter. “Don’t mind at all.”

A pack of bacon, a jar of jam and an orange followed after and you awaited his next instruction.

“I’m going need your help with peeling orange. I believe I can manage the rest.”

With quiet acknowledgment, you grabbed the orange and began to peel as he placed 2 pieces of bacon in the skillet.

It took less than 10 minutes and Nanami moved to the dining table, a slice of toast placed next to his bacon on a plate and setting out a small dish of fruit with the addition of an apple now. You brought out 2 mugs of coffee, placing his in front of him and sitting across from him with yours.

A butter knife rested awkwardly beside the jar of jam he chose. It was clear he had intended to do more, but something had stopped him.

You didn’t move or say anything, you sipped your coffee and watched as he reached for the jar. His right hand gripped the jar while his left hovered over the lid. His fingers trembled — just slightly — but enough that the lid refused to budge.

You didn’t move at first. You’d quickly learned that Nanami wasn’t the type to appreciate overstepping, even if it came from a place of concern. So you waited, giving him the space to either push through the task or acknowledge the struggle.

After a long moment, his jaw tightened. The jar didn’t budge.

You opened your mouth — not to offer help, but simply to ask if he wanted you to hold the base of the jar steady when his voice cut through the silence.

“Can you…” He paused, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. “Can you open this for me?”

It wasn’t a whisper, nor was it loud. Just a calm, measured request, but you could hear the effort behind it — the weight of a man who wasn’t used to asking for assistance.

You stood and went to his side of the table and gently placed your hand on the lid. “Turn when you’re ready.”

His hand dropped away, switching his left hand out for the right gripping the glass part and his left fingers curling into a loose fist at his side. The lid gave way with a soft pop, and you set it down in front of him without a word.

He didn’t thank you, but there was a small nod — barely noticeable, but it was there.

“Would you like me to slice the apple for you?” you asked, careful not to overstep.

Nanami shook his head. “No. I can manage.”

You sat back down, sipping your coffee as he asked you more questions about your fascination with his Bosch.

_______________________________________

The morning moved quickly. Breakfast cleanup was a breeze as Nanami continued his light reading and non rigorous solo exercises.

During breakfast, you’d been given what you called the key to the cupboard by Nanami. He uttered, with few words, that he didn’t want to prevent you from doing your job. While he limited what that might be, he was quick to say how appreciative he’d be if his bed could be made up, his laundry started and lunch done. He’d have a friend come by to do the rest.

You happily complied and began working on laundry the moment he sat down post breakfast. And by noon, his physical therapist had arrived to continue his exercise routine and mobility work.

Despite the pain he would occasionally feel from the intense stretches he felt near his ankles, this was Nanami’s favorite part of his rehabilitation. Feeling the tightness dissipate as he stretched his neck and chest together. He closed his eyes, allowing the PT to guide his body on top of the exercise ball.

“Now a slow exhale as you reach your arms over your head. Nice and easy.”

The short man moved the ball under Nanami and he grunted.

“Sorry Mr. Nanami, too much?”

Nanami wheezed a chuckle out, “Not enough. Can we do this one more often?”

The therapist exhaled and smiled. “We can. Your body is reacting as it needs to and it seems to be the best exercise to get a reaction out of you. Does it feel like your body is loosening up?”

He nodded, slowly sitting up with assistance. “Definitely. My skin feels less taut at my hips and chest when I open up my arms like that. It feels.. good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. We’re going to finish off with some hands exercises then your aide will be tagged back in to finish the day off with you.”

His session proceeded and came to an end before he knew it. He walked with a bit more confidence as he escorted his therapist to the door and went to find you in the kitchen finishing lunch.

Nanami watched you sliced the cucumber. He nodded at the precision of the knife movements, impressed with how perfect each little sliced green disc was as you added it to the salad bowl. He waited to speak once you sat the knife down.

“You have some really great knife skills.”

You looked up and smiled, wiping your hand on the dish towel nearby. “4 years of cooking for a group of broke college students as a college student. 2 of those years were spent dating a sous chef who taught me some of what I know.”

“I’m sure this sous chef would be happy to know you use these techniques so well.”

“We could only hope,” Expertly, you avoided giving that a full response that would push the topic of your ex. “Where did you learn to cook, Mr. Nanami? I’m sure you are amazing with a Bosch in your kitchen.”

Nanami walked behind you, reaching for two bowls out of the cabinets and placed them next to you. “My grandfather wanted me to be self sufficient once I moved out on my own.” He slowly opened the silverware drawer, pulling out a pair of forks and knives. “And cooking in itself is its own therapy for me.”

You finished placing the grilled chicken in the salad bowl and handed over the tongs to Nanami. “How does cooking make you feel?”

He looked down at the tongs, his heart fluttering with an anxiety he couldn’t place. His eyes found you. “Do you think I can?”

“I’m right here,” you slid one of the eating bowls directly next to him and smiled. “What does cooking do for you?”

Nanami put his eyes back onto the salad and took a deep breath. He grabbed the tongs, gripping them, feeling the cold stainless steel rest in the part of his palm that still had feeling. “Cooking requires me to pay attention. Smell, sounds, how my food is looking.”

He widened the tongs, lowering them into the salad and tossing it lightly, as if he’d harm the lettuce if he placed any pressure.

“What do you usually cook with?” You noticed his hesitance in squeezing the tong tips together, his grip faltering as he exhaled from frustration. “I’m going to hover my hand below yours. Claw extension. Only if you need it.”

Nanami closed his eyes, slowly breathing out as he tried to not lose his momentum. “Garlic. Fresh minced garlic.” He tried again, slowly working his hands closed until he had salad gripped between the flat tips. He carefully moved it over to the dish, hand shaking but making it with no spillage. “I prefer to mince it and store it in water. Taste great every time.”

You smiled as he looked at you for a hint of validation and gave a nod of acknowledgment.

He moved the tongs back to the serving bowl with a glimmer of determination in the way he rolled his shoulders back. He grabbed more and placed it into the bowl, releasing a with a bit of force before sitting the tongs down. “I think I want a bit more tomato.”

Fork in hand, trying to pin down a slice of tomato so he could cut it. His right hand hovered awkwardly, meant to steady the cutting board, but his left — the one gripping the fork — trembled just enough to betray him.

The fork slipped.

The tomato skidded to the side, smearing juice across the surface. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

You didn’t speak either. You knew better than to rush in with help he hadn’t asked for yet.

He reset the slice, pressing the fork down again. His grip was too tight — his knuckles pale from the strain — but the tremor in his fingers wouldn’t let up. The fork scraped against the board, missing the tomato entirely this time.

A sharp pain ran through his forefinger and he dropped the fork, cursing under his breath as he massaged his purlicue.

His gaze stayed locked on the tomato, his shoulders tense.

“You did good. You and the tongs are quite the dynamic duo.”

Nanami felt a heated tear well in his eye before he sucked it back in. “This. Its all so hard sometimes. A fork? I can’t hold a damn fork and its been months.”

He needed to let the frustrations out. It was going to be the only way he could get over those hurdles to feeling whole again.

You stood in silence for a moment, giving him space to process and feel. “Don’t give yourself a timeline but do give yourself grace.”

“Is this all worth it?” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself until he took a few steps back and leaned against the counter looking at you. “Will I be the same person I was before all this? Because I feel like even when I’m giving 200%, I’m failing with no progress.”

“This feels like it’s never going to get better,” Nanami said, his voice low — almost too calm, but there was an edge to it. A rare crack in the carefully composed man standing next to you.

The words hung between you both, heavier than the silence.

You gave him a moment before you spoke. “It’s frustrating,” you said softly. “I know.”

Nanami’s jaw shifted, his lips pressing into a firm line. He didn’t respond right away, as if letting the admission sit out in the open was already more than he was prepared for.

His hand flexed at his side — open, then closed — before, at last, he exhaled through his nose. “Can you help me?”

The question was quiet, but it felt like a victory in its own right.

You nodded, letting him take a few steps forward before stepping in slowly so he had the chance to pull back if he wanted. When he didn’t, you picked up the fork, steadying the tomato with your other hand. The prongs sank into the skin with a soft pop — a simple act, but weighted with everything unspoken.

Nanami’s hand hovered near yours for a moment, then dropped back to his side.

He didn’t thank you, but the small, almost imperceptible nod he gave was enough.

You didn’t push for more words. Instead, you handed him the knife, stepping back just far enough to let him reclaim some of the space —he had let you stand just a little closer, and it was a sign that he was willing to let you in to help.

[alinathinkstoomuch]

A White Lie Amongst Chocolate Cake

pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader summary: you and jack throw hotch a surprise birthday party but you had to tell a white lie in the process warnings: ummm none i don't think?? i love nanny!reader she's the best and i'm trying to refrain from smutting it up with the two of them... at least for now (i'm trying to give you guys genres!!) slight angst at the end because pining word count: 4.1k (someone tell me to shut up) ✧ masterlist

You had been Jack’s nanny for almost a year now, and it was easily the best job you’d ever had. Jack was a sweetheart – most of the time – your hours were manageable, there wasn’t a strict dress code, and most importantly your boss, Mr Hotchner, was… nice.

Or at least as nice as a brooding, workaholic federal agent could be.

But over the months, you’d learned a few things – small details that could soften the edges of his demeanour. The way his lips curled ever so slightly when Jack made him laugh, the rare moments when exhaustion gave way to something gentler, something almost warm. He wasn’t always broody. You just had to know where to look.

And lately, you had been looking a little too much.

At first, it was curiosity. Aaron Hotchner was layers upon layers of complexities and quirks you wanted to know. He was intimidating at first, especially on your first day – standing there in a crisp suit, a gun holstered at his hip, his expression unreadable. It had sent a chill down your spine, a silent reminder of the world he lived in.

But you adapted.

Because when the suit came off – not that you ever saw that happening, but you liked to think of it metaphorically – he was simply a father. A man who pressed a gentle kiss to Jack’s crown after tucking him in, whose shoulders sagged just slightly when he stepped through the front door at the end of the day. Sometimes, when he thought no one was watching, he’d stand still for a moment, letting out a breath like he was unravelling at the seams.

Maybe it was the night he came home late, tie askew, exhaustion settling into the lines of his face. Jack had already been asleep, so instead of offering your usual quick goodbye, you hesitated. Then, before you could overthink it, you asked if he wanted some tea.

He had looked at you for a beat – just long enough for you to wonder if you’d overstepped –before nodding.

So you made it, sliding the warm mug into his hands, and the two of you sat in the kitchen, the only sound being the quiet hum of the fridge and the rhythmic ticking of the clock. He didn’t say much, and neither did you, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

Maybe that was when it changed.

Or maybe it was the morning he called, voice rough with sleep, muttering an apology because he was stuck at work again. He hadn’t needed to say sorry – it wasn’t like you expected him to be home on time, not in his line of work – but something about the way he said it, the way his voice softened at your response, made your chest tighten in a way it shouldn’t have.

One thing you had also learnt about your boss was that he was a deeply selfless man. So selfless, in fact, that if Jack hadn’t mentioned his upcoming birthday in passing, you would have missed it entirely.

It didn’t surprise you. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who enjoyed being the centre of attention, who would welcome a big celebration in his honour. He barely tolerated it when you so much as packed his lunch or handed him a coffee before he left for work – grumbling in that low, exasperate way that somehow never quite reached his eyes. And you didn’t even want to think about the reaction you’d gotten the one time you picked up his dry cleaning.

But still, you wanted to do something. Something that was small but thoughtful and Jack did too.

So, on the morning of his birthday, when he rushed out the door like he always did, barely pausing long enough to grab the travel mug of coffee you had set out for him, you got to work. You had a few precious hours before Jack got home from school, just enough time to pull everything together.

First, you picked up the decorations – nothing excessive, just enough to make the space feel inviting. A quiet ‘Hey, we haven’t forgotten about you’, rather than a ‘Brace yourself, you’re about to spend two hours making polite conversation with people you barely know’.

Then came the ingredients for the cake, carefully chosen after Jack’s very serious deliberation over what his dad would like best. Chocolate, obviously, but not too sweet because, as Jack had pointed out, “Dad drinks his coffee black, so he probably doesn’t like too much sugar.” You hadn’t argued with his logic.

And finally, the last stop – the pottery studio.

It had started as a light-hearted hobby, something to do on a slow afternoon. Jack had been fascinated by the idea, insisting you take him to a class the moment you mentioned it. And when you did, he had thrown himself into it with the kind of enthusiasm only a child could muster, carefully painting a mug for his dad – deep blue with a slightly wobbly ‘NO. 1 DAD’ scrawled across it. You had made a plate to match.

Because for all the times Hotch refused to let anyone take care of him, maybe this time, he wouldn’t have a choice.

The day passed faster than you expected, a blur of preparation and carefully chosen details. Before you knew it, you were picking Jack up from school, and within minutes, the two of you were elbow-deep in flour and frosting, making an absolute mess in the kitchen.

Jack was having the time of his life. He had insisted on cracking the eggs himself, which resulted in you fishing out stray bits of shell from the batter while he laughed. The flour? Everywhere. The icing? Somehow on his cheek, in his hair, and suspiciously on the kitchen cabinet despite him never going near it.

Jack peeked up at you, grinning. “Do you think Dad’s gonna like it?”

You glanced at the cake which was a little lopsided, a bit rough around the edges, but made with nothing but love. Maybe a little too much of it from you.

“I think he’s going to love it,” you said, smiling as you smoothed the frosting over the top. “And besides, once we stick the candles in, they’ll hide all the… character it has.”

Jack giggled. “You mean the wonky bits?”

“Exactly.” You tapped a bit of frosting onto his nose, earning a squeal of protest before he ran off, undoubtedly to make a mess somewhere else.

As far as you knew, there wasn’t a case today. That meant Hotch was stuck with paperwork, and once that was done, he’d be home. On a good day, that usually meant just after six.

But as the clock edged closer to seven, Jack’s excitement had started to fade, replaced by a quiet sort of disappointment. He looked up at you with big, sad doe eyes, the kind that made your heart twist, and you found yourself hoping that nothing had come up. Hotch always let you know if he’d be late. Always.

Maybe it was just one of those days. Too much paperwork, a last-minute meeting, heavier-than-usual traffic. Or maybe – and this was the thought that unsettled you the most –he had figured it out.

He was a profiler, after all. He noticed everything. And maybe, just maybe, he’d pieced together what you and Jack had been up to and decided to quietly sidestep the attention, no matter how small the fuss was meant to be. Because that was the kind of man he was. Someone who deflected, who sidestepped gratitude and celebration as if they were luxuries he didn’t have the time or the right to indulge in.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, deciding to send him a quick text.

Hey, will you be home soon?

The reply came faster than you expected.

Not for a while. Do you need to leave?

You frowned, glancing at Jack, who was absently toying with the hem of his shirt, disappointment clear in the slump of his shoulders. Okay, you thought, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Your fingers flew across the screen before you could second-guess yourself.

I do actually. I have a date at eight.

You barely had time to put your phone down before the read receipt popped up. Three little dots appeared – then disappeared. Then appeared again.

And then nothing.

You stared at the screen, waiting for a response that didn’t come.

Jack, still fidgeting with his shirt, looked up at you. His gaze flicked to your phone, then back to your face. “Uh oh,” he muttered.

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

Jack pressed his lips together, clearly debating something before finally deciding to say it. “Dad’s gonna be mad now.”

“Mad?” That wasn’t the reaction you’d expected. Mildly irritated, maybe. Or just indifferent. It wasn’t like you actually had a date – this was just a little push to get him home. “Why would he be mad?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Because you’re going on a date.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, not entirely sure how to respond to that. Before you could press for more, your phone buzzed in your hand.

I’ll be home soon.

You stared at the screen for a second too long, your pulse suddenly a little unsteady.

Jack grinned. “Told you.”

You shook your head, still trying to process what had just happened, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it. Jack was already tugging on your hand, his excitement reigniting now that he knew his dad was on his way.

“We have to hide!” he whispered dramatically, as if Hotch wouldn’t immediately notice the streamers hanging in the kitchen or the faint scent of chocolate in the air.

The second you heard his car pull into the driveway, your pulse kicked up a notch. You reached for the box of matches, fingers moving too quickly to get the candles lit. The first match slipped between your fingers. The second sparked, but in your hurry, the flame kissed the tip of your finger. You sucked in a sharp breath, shaking your hand before finally managing to light them all in time.

Jack giggled beside you, bouncing on his feet, eyes locked on the front door.

You had placed the cake at the centre of the dining table, right beneath the Happy Birthday banner you'd taped up with more hope than confidence, silently praying it wouldn't rip off a chunk of ceiling paint when it came down.

Jack pressed himself flat against the wall, his whole body vibrating with excitement, while you eased the French doors slightly closed, just enough to keep the kitchen hidden from view.

You stole a final glance at the space before stepping back. The decorations were simple, the only real light coming from the candles flickering atop the cake. It wasn't extravagant, but it didn't need to be. It was personal.

Maybe too personal.

A strange feeling curled in your chest, something you didn't have time to analyse before the sound of a key turning in the lock sent a jolt of adrenaline through you.

You barely managed to slip into place beside Jack before the front door swung open, followed by the soft thud of Hotch setting his briefcase down.

He called your name first. Then Jack's.

His footsteps moved toward the kitchen, each one drawing him closer. You could hear his mind working, could almost picture the slight furrow in his brow, the way his head would tilt just slightly as he tried to piece together the silence around him.

It was almost funny – how methodical he was, how effortlessly he slipped into that profiler mindset even in his own home.

Is this what it felt like when he walked into a crime scene? That careful assessment, the quiet tension of waiting for something to reveal itself?

Great, you thought, comparing his surprise birthday party to a crime scene. Solid choice.

You barely had time to scold yourself for it before Jack tugged at your arm.

“Now?”

You nodded squeezing his hand. And just as Hotch stepped into the kitchen, you both jumped out.

“Surprise!”

Hotch stopped short in the doorway, his entire body tensing for a second before his eyes swept over the room. The flickering candlelight, the banner still (miraculously) hanging in place, the two of you standing there. Jack grinning wildly, you trying to gauge his reaction.

His brows lifted slightly, the only outward sign of his surprise, but his face remained unreadable, like his brain hadn't quite caught up yet.

Jack didn't seem to notice. He bounced on his heels, eyes shining. "Did we get you?"

Hotch blinked, exhaling a quiet breath, and something in his expression softened just enough for you to catch it. "Yeah," he admitted. “You got me."

Jack beamed, grabbing his dad's wrist, dragging him further inside. "We made cake!" he announced, gesturing toward the dining table as if presenting an award. "And we got you presents! And you almost ruined the surprise because you were late.”

You bit back a smile, casting a glance at Hotch to see how he'd take that last part.

His lips twitched as he glanced down at Jack. "I had a lot of paperwork, buddy," he said, like that was a perfectly reasonable excuse for nearly missing his own birthday.

“Come on!” Jack tugged at his dad’s hand with both of his own. “You need to make a wish and blow the candles out!”

He let himself be pulled forward, and you instinctively stepped aside, giving them space as he reached the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down, Jack wasting no time as he climbed into his lap, settling in like he belonged there because of course he did.

He glanced up, his eyes landing on you. “This was you?”

You shrugged, a small gracing your lips. "Mostly Jack. I was just the assistant. Ran a few errands, made sure things got done."

Jack beamed, your name tumbling eagerly from his lips as he told his dad just how much you had helped. Hotch didn't respond right away. Instead, his gaze settled on you, his expression giving nothing away, eyes studying you in a way that made your pulse stutter.

You weren't sure if he was annoyed that you'd dragged him away from work or still caught off guard by the whole thing. Maybe a bit of both.

Then after a moment, he looked down at Jack, his hands instinctively settling around him. "Alright, buddy," he murmured, voice softer now. "Are you going to help me with the wish?"

Jack nodded immediately – so eagerly that his eyes were already shut before Hotch had even finished speaking. You couldn’t help but laugh fondly at the sight in front of you.

As soon as the candles were out, Jack clapped his hands together, scrambling off Hotch’s lap. “Presents now!”

You flicked the lights back on just as Jack dumped the two wrapped pieces of pottery into his dad's hands, his excitement making up for the lack of ceremony.

Your fingers found the chain of your necklace, twisting it absently as doubt crept in. Was the plate too much? Not enough? Would a gift card have been better – something impersonal, something safer? Should you have just let him stay at work instead of pulling him home with a lie?

Too late now.

Hotch's hands were already working the paper free from Jack's mug, struggling against the layers of tape. You held your breath as you watched.

When the paper finally gave way, the mug tumbled into his hands. His fingers instinctively curled around it, tracing the uneven ridges and the slightly wobbly letters across the front. Jack launched into an explanation, rattling off how he had painted it himself, why he chose that shade of blue, how the letters had smudged a little but he had tried to fix them.

Hotch listened quietly, his thumb grazing over the lettering as he turned the mug in his hands, absorbing every word.

Then came your gift.

You felt your fingers find the chain of your necklace again as Hotch unwrapped the plate. It matched the mug, but where Jack's strokes were bold and eager, yours were softer, more intentional. Looking at it now, the patterns swirled together in a way you hadn't even planned. Something delicate woven into each brushstroke.

Jack grinned. “Now you have a set! You can drink coffee and eat cake at the same time!”

Hotch chuckled as he turned the plate in his hands, his thumb brushing along the rim like he was taking in the details. He looked at Jack first. Then at you. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

"Of course," you said softly, letting the necklace drop from your fingers.

Without another word, you turned your attention to cutting the cake, dividing it onto plates for the three of you. Jack, despite his excitement, barely made it through his slice before exhaustion started to settle in. His yawns grew more frequent, his movements slower, until Hotch finally stood to get him ready for bed.

You busied yourself with dishes, rinsing off the remnants of cake and wiped down the counters. It wasn’t until you dried your hands a little too roughly on the tea towel that you felt a sharp sting across your fingertips.

You frowned, glancing down to see the red and irritated skin. Before you could think twice, you lifted your hand, instinctively pressing your fingertips to your lips to soothe the ache.

"You're still here?"

The sound of Hotch's voice startled you. You turned quickly, pulling your hand away as he stepped into the kitchen. Hotch didn't say anything at first. His gaze flickered between your face and your hand.

He took another step forward and you stilled.

"I saw that," he murmured, nodding toward your closed fist.

"It's nothing," you started but before you could finish he reached out, catching your wrist gently.

His thumb brushed over your fingertips, taking no notice of the fact that they were in your mouth just seconds earlier. "Burned yourself?"

You swallowed, resisting the urge to pull away – not because you wanted to, but because standing this close to him, with his fingers wrapped around yours was making it very hard to think straight.

"From the matches, but it’s fine. It’ll go in a few days.”

He didn’t look convinced.

He let go of your wrist and turned toward the cabinet, retrieving a small first aid kit before setting it down on the counter. The sound of the latch clicking open felt louder than it should have in the quiet kitchen.

“You don’t have to do that,” you tried but he ignored you, pulling out a small tube of burn cream like it was second nature.

He nodded toward your hand again. “Let me see.”

You exhaled but didn’t argue as you extended your hand, letting him take it.

He twisted the cap off, squeezing a small amount onto his fingertips before gently pressing them against yours. The cool relief of the cream barely registered beneath the warmth of his touch, the slow, careful way he smoothed it over your skin.

He was taking his time.

Too much time.

"I thought you had a date." His voice was quiet, almost casual, but when he glanced up at you from beneath his lashes, something in your stomach tightened.

You bit down on your lip, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was, of the way his fingers still rested lightly against yours. "There was no date," you admitted.

His eyes didn't leave yours. "No?”

You shook your head.

He hummed in acknowledgment, the sound thoughtful. His line of sight travelled back to your fingers, his touch still slow, even though the cream had already absorbed.

He didn't have to keep doing this. But he did anyway.

His thumb brushed over your skin one last time, light and barely there, before he finally pulled away. He reached for the tea towel, the same one you had used earlier, rubbing his hands over the fabric. Then, casually, too casually –

"Do you do that often?"

Your brows furrowed. "Do what?"

He glanced up, eyes catching yours. "Lie to get what you want."

Your stomach tightened, heat creeping up your neck like a slow tide, rising before you could push it back.

"I-I don't –" The words tumbled out too fast, tripping over themselves. You caught them, swallowed them down, and took a breath in. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I don't make a habit of lying, but it didn't seem like you were going to be back in time.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just folded the towel in his hands, smoothing out the fabric like it might help him piece together whatever he was thinking.

“Are you angry with me?” you asked, not bearing the thought of disappointing him.

His eyes met yours again before he shook his head. “No.” Then softer, “It would take a lot for me to be angry with you.”

Something inside you eased, a gulp of air finally slipping free. A knot coming undone, a tight grip loosening just enough to feel the space it left behind.

“I understand why you did it,” he continued. “I know how much today meant to Jack.”

You pressed your back lightly against the edge of the sink, needing something solid beneath you. “Good,” you murmured, though the word felt thin. But then, Jack’s voice surfaced in your mind, that innocent certainty, the way he had said it like it was fact.

Dad’s gonna be mad now.

Before you could stop yourself, the question slipped out, unfiltered and reckless. “But would you be mad if I did go on a date?”

Why the hell had you asked that?

Embarrassment prickled under your skin.

Letting an eight-year-old get in your head? Really?

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t know why I said that. I –” You cleared your throat, pushing your hair out of your face. “I think I should go.”

You turned, heading for the door, willing the moment to dissolve behind you. Except you didn’t get very far because there was a man in your way. And when you moved to slip past him, his fingers brushed against your dress before catching it, giving it a gentle tug, enough to stop you in your tracks.

“Please,” you mumbled, looking down at the way his fingers curled into the fabric like he wasn’t quite ready to let you go. “This is already awkward enough. Let’s not do this.”

But he still didn’t let go.

“I would only get angry if you went on a date with someone who didn’t treat you right.”

Oh.

That wasn’t the answer you expected. Was it even an answer at all?

Your thoughts stumbled over each other, grasping for clarity where none existed. What was he saying? That he cared? That he didn’t? That it only mattered under certain circumstances?

The warmth of his fingers, still curled into the fabric of your dress, was distracting. So was the fact that he hadn’t let go.

“Don’t look so confused,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was trying to smooth over something he’d just disrupted. “You take care of Jack. You take care of me – even though that part isn’t in your job description.”

His fingers twitched before he finally released his grasp, the flowy fabric slipping free “It’s only fair that someone does the same for you.”

A perfectly articulated response that was respectful and considerate.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

You didn’t just want someone taking care of you.

You wanted him.

You wanted someone who noticed the little things. The way you always set Jack’s favourite cup at the table before breakfast. The way you double-checked that the porch light was on before locking up for the night. The way you carried his damn suit jacket upstairs when he left it draped over a chair because you knew he’d be too tired to do it himself.

You wanted someone who wouldn’t just say you deserve that, but be that.

And maybe that was unfair and highly selfish. Because Aaron Hotchner had spent his whole life taking care of people – his team, his son, his family before all of it had been ripped apart. He wasn’t yours to lean on, to ask for more than what he was already giving.

But God did you wish he was.

That it was his jacket you could pull over your shoulders when you were cold.

That it was his voice checking in, making sure you’d gotten home safe.

That it was his hand on the small of your back, guiding you through a crowded room, keeping you close.

You wished it was him.

And the worst part?

For a split second, when his fingers had curled into your dress, when his voice had dropped into something almost too soft to hear –

You thought maybe he wished it too.

[writingsofanomnivore]

Back to school- Kuroo x fem! reader

genre; pure fluff

words- 0.6k

these lovely dividers are by @thecutestgrotto

warning: none. grammar mistakes, I'll edit once I've slept enough :(

Your husband has been acting a bit weird this past week. Notes everywhere, cheeks heating up, quiet mumbles. something is up. wait what- he has a crush on you?

You knew your husband was a dork. All those years of high school, teenage years, when you were dating—when you weren’t—just proved how big of a sap he is.

But lately, something was off.

Not in a bad way—if anything, it was sweet—but it was... odd. The sudden blushes when you kissed his cheek. The meek little "thank you" when you handed him his lunch. The way his face lit up whenever you called him your husband. And the notes—so many notes—stuck on your fridge, your nightstand, even your laptop.

Kuroo had always been a loving husband—the kind to bring you breakfast in bed on his day off, surprise you with flowers, and wrap you in his arms like a human koala whenever he got the chance. But this? This past week? It’s like you’re back in high school.

In fact, he wasn’t even this shy back then. The playful banter to make you think he didn’t like you, the teasing—it was all normal. So, this? This surely left you wondering. You would have thought he lost a bet had it not been those lovesick eyes of his. But that doesn't mean you'll leave this as is. Something is definitely up.

instance 1:

"Hey, can you open this?"

"Sure."

Smooch.

"Thanks." A kiss lands on your target's right cheek, which immediately turns abnormally red as he mumbles, "No problem!" he squeaks, speed walking out of the room.

This again?

instance 2:

The time you caught him staring at you in the morning before work.

"Take a picture; it lasts longer."

His eyes widen like you just caught him committing a crime. "I wasn’t staring."

You raise a brow. "Oh? So you just happened to be awake before me, watching me sleep, and then turning beet red when I open my eyes?"

Kuroo groans and buries his face in the pillow. "Let me have this."

You grin.

Oh, you were definitely going to make this worth while.

You considered letting it slide for a while, just to see how far it would go. Turns out? a whole long week more.

One lazy Wednesday afternoon, with nothing better to do, you’re curled up on the couch together, Kuroo’s face buried in the crook of your neck. The aircon is on- his warm body on you when he sighs against your skin and mumbles,

"I think I’ve got a crush on you."

Your heart skips.

You blink. "What?"

His head tilts up slightly, lips brushing your collarbone. A barely audible heavy sigh later . "I’ve got a crush on you."

You pull back to look at him properly. "You." A chuckle escapes you. "You? You have a crush on me? Your wife of three years?"

"Uh-huh." His expression is painfully sincere. "Have you seen yourself lately? The way you take down those fuzzy crawlers—"

"Spiders?"

"Yeah, those demons. And the way you haul all the groceries in one trip? And how you completely shut down Mamiya-san when he was being an ass to Yukito-kun?"

You squint. "And that made you fall in love with me again?"

"How does that not play into it? You’re unfairly attractive, and I am but a weak, foolish old man caught in your spell."

Chuckling, you pull him in a hug as a not so small smile spreads on your face.

"So that’s what the notes and flowers were for." You pause, grinning. "So what will you do now, Mr. Infatuated Rooster?"

He puffs out his chest. "Woo you back, obviously. Can’t let someone snatch you away from this old man."

His bravado should be ridiculous, but then he adds, softer this time—"You’re going to be with me till my last breath… and the life after."

Your breath catches.

Heat rises to your cheeks, your heartbeat stuttering in your chest as you only nod.

Maybe you’ll be the one with a crush next.

Forgot to tag: thank you @dira333 for the spider and grocery idea 😭

[internetdaddy98]

The Quiet Fury 

Previous | Next [Series Masterlist] Pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!SeniorResident!Reader Summary: Your authority is tested by a cocky fourth-year med student who mistakes the ER for his personal playground. 

Word Count: 1.3 K Content Warning: Medical procedures, blood, will most likely be medically inaccurate at times, unresolved tension.

By 1:14 p.m., the ER had the brittle, caffeinated energy of early afternoon. The trauma bay had been turned over twice, a stroke alert rerouted to neuro, and the stack of charts on your tablet had reached an aggressive number. Your hair was falling out of its clip. Your lunch remained unopened in the lounge fridge. And your intern was flirting with a nurse during rounds.

James Whitmore was a fourth-year med student on rotation, assigned to shadow you for the next four weeks. Technically still a student, practically a problem. He had the kind of polished smile that belonged on an alumni magazine cover and the overconfidence of someone who had never been truly scared in a code room. You could already feel it,  that subtle entitlement, the lack of preparation, the empty glances when you gave instructions.

You had tried, the first two hours. Gently redirecting. Clarifying. Giving him room to prove he was more than charm and an upward trajectory. But he was more interested in chatting up the new ED nurse than examining his patient. More concerned with what you were doing later than documenting the rhythm strip you’d asked for.

“You know,” he said now, grinning like this was a meet-cute and not an ICU board, “you don’t look like someone who leads a trauma team. No offense.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t even look up.

Instead, you clicked through labs on the tablet and murmured, “ABG’s back. Go interpret it. Present to me in five.”

He lingered. “You always this serious, Dr. Sheridan?”

You finally met his eyes.

“Only when someone’s dying,” you said coldly. “Which is usually.”

He gave a half-laugh, unsure if it was a joke. You didn’t clarify. You moved past him and toward Bed 6, where a patient was vomiting blood into a basin while her mother cried softly in the corner. Your pulse recalibrated, not with nerves, but with necessity. You could be tired later.

Whitmore followed, his stethoscope still around his neck like a fashion statement, it was getting harder for you to not roll your eyes. 

Later, as you updated notes in the hub, you caught a glimpse of him across the hall, leaned too casually against the counter near two of his intern friends. You weren’t listening. Not at first. But you felt it, a shift in the room. Dana stiffening behind the desk. A nurse's eyes narrowing. The slight drop in temperature that meant someone had said something wrong.

Across the floor, by the medication station, Robby was finishing up notes on a post-code debrief when he caught Whitmore’s voice, low and smirking, drifting toward the central hub.

“…yeah, she’s cute in that mean, icy way. You know, a challenge. I give it three shifts before she cracks. Bet she’s crazy once you get her to—"

He didn’t finish. Someone coughed, startled. A tech turned sharply. Robby’s hand paused mid-scroll over his tablet.

He blinked once. Then turned.

He was forty feet away, but he could already feel it like a fissure in the tile beneath them, the cold fury in your eyes, the way you were walking toward Whitmore with the unhurried precision of someone who had not yet decided whether to destroy a person publicly or in private. Your hands were calm. Your shoulders square. You didn’t yell.

You didn’t need to.

“Mr. Whitmore,” you said, voice flat as steel. “Step into the staff lounge. Now.”

The kid hesitated.

Wrong move.

Robby watched you disappear behind the door. Watched the team shift around the hub in respectful silence. No one said a word. Even the printers seemed quieter.

You closed the door behind you.

Then, still calm, still composed, you turned to your intern.

“I don’t know what kind of rotations you’ve done before,” you began, your voice quiet but sharp as frost. “But I am not here for your amusement. I’m not here to play games with you, or compete with your insecurities, or make your ego feel bigger when you get bored during rounds.”

He opened his mouth.

You raised a hand. He stopped.

“You are in an Emergency Department. You are a guest in my house, and if you can’t show basic respect to your patients or to your senior, then you can leave now. I’ll sign the damn form. But what you will not do is treat this place, or the people in it, like a frat party you wandered into by mistake.”

His face changed then. A flush of something like embarrassment, something like shock. You didn’t care which.

“I suggest,” you continued, eyes not wavering from his, “that you get with the program. Fast.”

He swallowed. “Yes, Dr. Sheridan.”

You nodded once. “Good. You’re on labs until further notice.”

You opened the door for him to leave, only to find Robby there, leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flicked between you and Whitmore, unreadable.

The student mumbled something, not quite an apology, not quite coherent, and headed toward the lab station like a dog with its tail tucked.

You didn’t speak. You moved to close the door again and turn back toward the lounge room. He waited a beat, then two. Long enough to give the illusion of space. Long enough not to look like he’d been watching. Then he followed.

He knocked once on the edge of the lounge door before stepping in. You stood by the sink, filling a cup with water, back turned. Your grip on the plastic rim was too tight.

"You handled that well," he said quietly.

You didn’t turn around. “Thanks.”

A pause. You took a sip, then set the cup down, your shoulders rigid.

Robby moved to stand beside you, leaving a careful amount of space between them. The hum of the fridge filled the silence.

“He won’t do it again,” you said, eyes fixed on the sink.

“I know,” he said. “Not if he values his career.”

You gave a short, humorless exhale, not quite a laugh.

He glanced at you,  then away. “You okay?”

Another pause.

Then you nodded, still not looking at him. “Yeah. Just annoyed.”

“Okay,” he said. “But if that changes…”

You looked at him for a long moment. Then offered the faintest curve of your mouth, not a smile, but something close. Gratitude maybe. Recognition.

“Thanks, Dr. Robinavitch.”

He gave her a smile in return. “Anytime, Sher.”

And with that, he stepped out, leaving the door open behind him. Just a crack.

Enough for her to breathe.

Whitmore was alone at the lab station when Robby found him. Still cocky, despite it all. The kind of cocky that didn’t learn until the lesson was painful.

Robby approached quietly.

“You got a minute, Mr. Whitmore?”

The kid turned, startled, then nodded. “Yes, Dr. Robinavitch.”

Robby didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t even look angry. That was the worst part.

He just stepped closer, lowered his voice, and said, “You ever speak about Dr. Sheridan like that again, and I will personally end your chances of matching into anything but urgent care in rural Alaska. Are we clear?”

Whitmore blanched. “Sir, I didn’t—”

“You did,” Robby said, cool and clinical. “And I suggest you use your remaining days here wisely. Listen. Learn. Show some respect. Because you’re not the smartest man in this room. And you sure as hell aren’t the toughest.”

Whitmore swallowed. “Understood.”

“Good.” Robby offered him a smile that wasn’t really a smile. “Now go run the troponins.”

Robby didn’t move for a while. Just stood there, hands in his pockets, watching the chaos of the ER reassemble itself. His gaze flicked to the patient board. To the rooms. Then, finally, back to you.

You were at the end of the hallway now, instructing a nurse, your voice steady again. Calm. Efficient. But he could see it in the way your fingers tapped against the tablet. The way your jaw stayed locked.

——————————————

Two chapters in one day!

I couldn’t help myself bahhahah I needed y’all to read this one. My toxic trait is buying the people I love presents and needing to tell them what it is or I’ll explode.

I told myself I was going to pace myself but all chapters are sitting in my queue tempting me.

[stanart4clearskin]

DILF!ART DONALDSON X BABYSITTER!READER

before the two of you started “seeing” each other, your entire relationship was based off of stolen glances whenever lily wasn't paying attention or lingering touches whenever the two of you would brush past each other. you guys never explicitly talked about your situation, but just through gut instinct alone, you could tell there was something. it felt like there was a physical weight crushing both of your lungs whenever the two of you were in a room together. 

you never wanted to explore the possibility of being with art because you cared for lily too much. art, on the other hand, was 32 years old, divorced, and lonely. you were so pretty and kind, and he wanted you to an amount that made him feel like he was a lovesick teenager again. whenever you weren't paying attention, art would study you as if you were mona lisa herself. his eyes would trace over the soft curves of your décolletage and he would imagine what it would be like to run his hands and mouth over that skin. sometimes he felt like such a creep for even thinking these thoughts about you, but he just couldn't help it. you were stunning. 

the first time you and art slipped past the line of babysitter and boss is when art forgot to tell you that lily and tashi had taken a road trip for the weekend. you had shown up for work excited to see lily only to be greeted by a confused—and slightly hungover—art. nevertheless, he invited you in because he wasn’t going to send you away after you had driven nearly 45 minutes to get there. 

art yawned, "sorry i forgot to tell you that lily's with tashi for the weekend. it completely slipped my mind," he apologized, shooting you a sheepish smile. 

"it's really fine, mr. donaldson. we all make mistakes." you reassured him for the fifth time in two minutes. you could tell he felt guilty that you drove all the way over for nothing, but you didn't mind getting to see art. 

he chuckled, "you know you can call me art, right? i actually prefer it." you watched as he rummaged through the fridge for something for you to eat because he typically made you lunch and dinner when you watched lily. for months after his divorce, art had gone into a food craze. he finally allowed himself to eat everything that he couldn't while he had been playing tennis, but now that that phase was over, art's fridge was barren. 

he shut the fridge and turned back to you. he said nothing for a moment, simply just looked at you. you could never tell what was going on in his mind and sometimes you wished that he’d tell you exactly what he was thinking. 

“do you want to go out to eat?” he asked, fidgeting with the strings of his sweatpants. your eyes immediately went to the sweats, and you were suddenly very glad that lily wasn’t home. 

art had noticed that you barely even registered his question and smirked to himself. as much as he desperately wanted to drag you upstairs to his room at that moment, he knew it wasn’t the right time yet. “so lunch?” he asked again, taking a few steps towards you. 

your eyes instantly flicked back up to his and he could see the way your breath hitched in your throat. he raised an eyebrow, still waiting for an answer, and your cheeks went pink. “lunch sounds good.” you nearly stuttered, suddenly finding the space just to the left of art incredibly fascinating. 

by the time you both had come back from lunch, the tension was unbearable. your skin felt like it was burning up and you knew that if art looked at you one more time, you would jump him. when you raised your eyes to find him staring right at you, you couldn’t help it. your feet had a mind of their own and suddenly you found yourself standing a foot away from art. neither of you said anything for a moment and just stared into each other’s eyes. he tentatively lifted a hand as if he wanted to touch you but immediately put it back down. 

art looked at you for any confirmation that he could touch you and when you nodded, he nearly lost it. his large hands wrapped around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him. instantly, his head ducked down so that he could place soft kisses along your neck. he let out a sound that was a mix of a whimper and a groan and you had never been so aroused. your hands ran through art’s short locks as he continued his assault on your neck. you knew he was going to leave a mark but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. all you cared about was his mouth and hands on you. 

in less than 15 minutes, art had dragged you upstairs to his bedroom and was kneeling in between your thighs. art felt like he had died and gone to heaven because everything about you was perfect. the way you tugged on his hair when his tongue lapped at you like it was his life’s mission, the way you whimpered as he drew you towards your release. 

ever since that night, the two of you danced around each other. you found yourself leaving the room whenever art entered and he started making up excuses for why he couldn’t join you and lily at the park. you didn’t avoid art because you regretted that night. you avoided him because you couldn’t function around him. even the sight of him made your hands go clammy and your breathing got heavier. being around him for prolonged periods of time made you feel dizzy and your mind wandered back to that fateful night. art avoided you because he knew that if lily wasn’t around, he wouldn’t hesitate to try and get you on your back again. 

for weeks the two of you pretended like everything was fine until art finally had enough. he couldn’t just act like that night hadn’t been one of the best nights of his life. he couldn’t keep acting like he was just the dad of the girl you babysit. when lily was asleep in bed and you were about to leave, he gently grabbed your wrist and gave you that look that he knew you couldn’t resist. 

his bright blue eyes stared at you and he had a small pout that graced his lips. you both knew that art was far too old to be pouting like a child, but god, it was hard to resist a man who looked at you like you were the answer to all your issues. you let him lead you upstairs and into his bed, silently accepting the fact that you’d be staying the night. 

after that, art started to be slightly more affectionate with you in front of lily to gauge her reaction. he’d casually throw an arm around your shoulder as the three of you watched a movie or—if he was feeling especially bold—he’d kiss your forehead while he hugged you goodbye. much to both of your surprises, lily said nothing about his affection towards you. she took note of it and went about her day. 

slowly but surely you started to leave a trace in art’s home. he’d find your sweater in his bedroom or your hair ties in the bathroom. every time he saw your things lying around, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. it felt so natural for your presence to linger, so by the time you’d been seeing art for a year, he asked you to move in with him and lily. you couldn't help but feel hesitant at the offer because lily was just a young girl whose parents had divorced. you didn’t want to shake up her family even more than it already had been, but art reassured you. he’d never kick you out of the house even if things went south between the two of you. 

that’s how you found yourself living with art and lily. things were a bit awkward at first, art hadn’t lived with anyone besides his daughter for ages, but gradually you guys fell into a routine. you’d wake up before art and prepare some breakfast for the three of you. afterwards you’d wake lily up and help her get ready for school. then you’d finish making breakfast and by that time art would be awake and joining you both at the dining room table. on weekends tashi and patrick would come over and you would all have dinner together. patrick would always tease art about being with someone who was a little more than a decade younger than him, to which art would remind patrick that he was homeless for nearly a year to which the brunette would scowl but shut up. 

[authorhjk1]

dont you think Haewon deserves to get absolutely destroyed in her childhood room while her parents are downstairs

Marking

(Oh Haewon X Male Reader)

"I don't really get, why you had to come too. It's not like you're my boyfriend."

"I'm not. Lucky me."

You feel Haewon's elbow in your ribs.

"Hey, I'm driving!"

"So what?"

You send her an angry glare, before looking back ahead, focusing on the traffic.

The two of you are on your way to Haewon's parents. They are celebrating their anniversary today. A special one. 25 years. And the both of you are invited. Haewon for obvious reasons and you because you know her father. You only found out after your shenanigans at her place after your breakup. You saw a picture of him on her fridge while you left. And it turns out, he is your boss.

Well, not exactly. He is the head of the marketing team at the company you're working at. You are in a different department. He still has the higher position though. The two of you had to work together occasionally and, despite the age difference, you got along very well. That was, until you started to fuck his daughter's brains out every chance you got.

"We are here."

The two of you get out of the car. While Haewon walks towards the door, you get her stuff and trail after her. She didn't have time to change into her dress yet.

"Mom, dad!"

Haewon greets them and you shake the pair's hands afterwards. Luckily, her father knows that your ex girlfriend Sullyoon is his daughter's best friend. So it's not that weird that the two of you know each other. But it might have been a little suspicious for the two of you to arrive in the same car.

"Please come in. We have prepared lunch already."

"Thank you."

You smile at them, but you can't help but feel guilty. You doubt that they know what you have been doing to their beloved daughter every single day for the past couple of weeks.

"Haewon, go upstairs and get changed. After we are finished eating, we are driving to the party."

"Please, Mr. Oh. Let me drive. The two of you should just relax today."

"Thank you so much, dear."

Haewon's mom accepts your offer with a big smile.

"Too bad that Sullyoon found you, before our daughter did."

"Mom!"

Haewon's cheeks turn red in embarrassment as her mom teases her.

"She is coming too today, why is she not here?"

You glance at Haewon upon hearing her dad's question. Seems like she hasn't told them yet. Maybe to have an excuse for the two of you to keeps seeing each other.

"Well, she... She is very busy with work these days. She told me to pick Haewon up and drive her here. She will catch up with us at the party."

Not your finest moment, but you don't want to call Haewon a liar in front of her parents.

Come upstairs

You stare at the message on your phone. What the hell, Haewon? You know what she wants from you. But this is her parents house. Her father is sitting two meters away from you. How could you...

If you come upstairs now, I'll admit it.

You scoff in disbelief. This has been going on for weeks and now, Haewon wants to admit that she is a whore? A little late in your opinion. But then again, hearing it from her own mouth, while she cums on your cock...

The picture in your head makes you get off the couch.

"Haewon texted me. She needs help with her dress."

You explain yourself without even thinking about your words. It's surprising to see how fast your blood can rush from your brain to your cock, just by thinking of Haewon's desperate moans and whines.

"Sure. Go ahead"

You're glad her father doesn't seem to catch on as you climb the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

You barge into Haewon's childhood room. She stands in the middle. Naked.

"Took you longer than I expected."

You slowly tear your eyes off her naked frame and scan the room. A bed, a desk, a wardrobe. Nothing special. Her walls are decorated with her paintings though. She was definitely not very old, when she made them. They look like ones from six year olds. But still not bad. Your eyes land on the wax crayons, which are lined up by color, lying on her desk. But the nude woman in front of you quickly brings back your attention on her.

Haewon steps forward, her arms wrapping around your neck.

"Fuck me and I confess."

You roll your eyes.

"I'm not falling for that again."

"It's not a joke this time."

Haewon gives you grin.

"Admit it first. Then I fuck you."

This is how your 'relationship' started out anyways. Haewon broke you and Sullyoon up and just wouldn't admit that she did it, because she wanted you. Because she is a slut.

"No. Wrong order."

Haewon gives you another teasing grin.

"Fine."

You give in, knowing that, except for fucking it out of her, there is not much you can do about it anyway.

The two of you quickly engage in a heated kiss, warming each other up. Not that Haewon needs much of that. You can tell by how her core rubs against your thigh.

"If you want me to fuck you good, you better start sucking."

You whisper into her mouth, while slightly pulling away.

"You are not too big of a whore yet to take all of it without lube."

Haewon bites your lip, the pain makes you flinch.

"You just want to see me choke on it again."

Without a word, you grab her shoulders and push her down.

"Not that I'm complaining."

A devilish grin appears on her otherwise innocent face.

Haewon starts out slow by just putting the tip into her mouth. She lets her tongue swirl around it, while both her hands wrap around your cock.

Her blowjob is everything but slow and sensual though, once she gets into it. Like a hungry animal, Haewon starts to engulf your cock. You're reminded of this morning. That's how your day started.

Her hands quickly stroke you, while her head bobs up and down. Her eyes look up at you, almost mocking your inability to keep standing still. You can't help it. You have to hold onto something, or you'll fall. The only thing in sight, as usual, is Haewon's head.

You place one of your hands on top of it. Haewon immediately stops. Her eyes tell you to use her. Her eyes tell you that she is a whore. But her mouth still doesn't. To be fair, it's full with cock right now. But you make a silent promise to yourself. Within the next twenty minutes, Haewon will be calling herself a whore, while she begs for more.

You slowly pull her back onto your cock. Only halfway though. It doesn't make her choke, but you can already hear her breathing through her nose. You loosen your grip, Haewon's lips glide along your length, until they reach your tip. A moment to let her take one last breath.

A second later, Haewon chokes hard. Your cock is blocking her airflow. It's entirety is stuffed down her throat. Her nose is pressed against your abdomen. You hold her in place.

One second

Two seconds

Three seconds

Four seconds

Five seconds

Haewon's eyes give you a silent challenge. Every fiber of her being tells you that she is a whore. Why can't her mouth do the same?

Five seconds turn into ten seconds.

Spit starts to leak out of the corners of her mouth.

Ten seconds turn into fifteen seconds.

Haewon's eyes become wider as she realizes that you don't intend to let go anytime soon.

Fifteen seconds turn into twenty seconds.

Her nostrils flare as Haewon's breathing becomes heavier, faster.

Twenty seconds turn into twenty five seconds.

Her drool now falls off her chin in the form of long strings.

Just as you reach thirty seconds, you let go.

Haewon falls off your cock. Her mouth still hanging open as she backs away. She tries to catch her breath, her naked chest heaving heavily.

"I will wait for your confession, once you're done with surviving."

You give her smug grin.

Haewon doesn't have the energy to reply. The lack of oxygen is still visible.

"Or are you in for round two?"

This time, Haewon shakes her head.

"But you're not gonna confess what a whore you are?"

She shakes her head again.

You groan.

"Fine. But I will not be leaving this room, until your whole body screams whore."

You take a step closer towards her desk.

"And I know just the right way to start."

After grabbing the red wax crayon, you turn back around. Haewon's eyes are slowly wandering towards your hand.

"I hope this washes off easily. For your sake."

Haewon barely has time to open her mouth, before you're already towering over her. Taking a fistful of her short hair, you make her turn her head.

The young woman feels the cold crayon on her cheek. You stain her gorgeous face. Her skin senses your handwriting. The swing of the letter S. A straight line down, one to the right. An L. Another swing U. Two more lines form a T.

You let go of Haewon's hair, letting her head return to its original place. You lean back, taking in your work.

She glares at you. Her cheek is covered with red wax. The word 'slut' seems to glow on her otherwise flawless skin.

"Well, slut..."

The word slowly drips off your tongue with such a degrading undertone.

"Let's fuck that confession out of you."

You lift Haewon off the floor and place her on her windowsill. She shivers as the cold glass makes contact with her back.

"So much space for me to write on."

You whisper as your free hand wanders all over her front.

"You wouldn't dare."

You raise an eyebrow.

"I already did, slut."

You step closer, parting her legs in the process. Your faces only inches away, the tip of your cock now resting on her wet pussy lips.

"And I will cover your entire body."

You immediately start to fulfill that promise. Haewon weakly tries to push your hand away, but you hold her wrists with one hand. You place the tip of the wax crayon right between her tits and her collarbone. You slowly read the words as you write them on her skin.

"Sex toy."

Haewon closes her eyes. She shivers again. You are sure it's not because of the glass.

"Do you want another one?"

She shakes her head and shoots you an evil glare. Her lips are pressed together, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of begging you to stop.

"Suit yourself."

This time, you place the crayon right above her pussy. Her smoothly shaven skin becomes your canvas. You don't read the word out loud, this time.

It takes her moment, since Haewon has to read it upside down.

"Owned"

Just as she understands its meaning, you're already past her lips.

"Ngh! Please!"

A loud whine escapes her mouth as she feels your tip inside of her. Your cock starts to stretch her out as you slowly push forward.

"From now on, whenever you deny being a whore, I'll ruin your body further."

Just as you say that, you are just as deep as Haewon can take it. She starts to take heavy breaths again. Her eyes are glued to the part of your cock that's still not inside her.

"Are you a whore?"

You sigh, knowing full well that she won't agree yet. Haewon shakes her head.

You place the crayon on her left shoulder.

"Bitch"

You focus on fucking her now. Being inside of Haewon doesn't allow you to properly focus on humiliating her. You need to blow off some steam first. And what is better for that than Haewon's snug hole?

You start to screw Haewon into the window behind her. Her back is pressed flat against it. Her legs are spread wide, dangling off the windowsill. One of your hands holds onto her waist while the other is loosely placed on her thigh, still holding the crayon.

Haewon's moans fill the room she has grown up in. All those memories of her childhood are now stained by this experience. They are worthless. All that matters now, is that she is a whore. Slowly, Haewon's own mind comes to that conclusion. So slow, she almost doesn't realize it.

Your pounding makes her slowly lose her mind. Her moans increase in volume. Her whines reach a higher pitch.

"Again, are you a whore?"

This time, you catch her hesitate. But then, Haewon shakes her head again.

Her eyes are barely able to follow the crayon as you slow down your thrusts only a little. Just enough, so you can properly write. Her skin just above her navel is now showing off a marking as well.

"Cocksleeve"

Haewon doesn't have time to read the second half as you pick up the pace again.

"Oh, god!"

Her head leans against the glass behind her. Her back arches, her chest gets pushed towards you. Instead of leaning in and sucking on her tits, you reach forward with your free hand.

"Aaah!"

Haewon let's out a loud cry as you pinch her nipple. And the other one. Another scream.

"S-Stop. It hurts."

She whines, but you both know that that's not her safeword.

"Tell me, if you want me to be gentle. Are you a whore?"

"No!"

She gives you a determined glare. An angry pout.

Once again her crayon finds her skin.

This time, you write on both her tits.

"Free"

"Use"

Haewon looks down, barely manages to read it, and lets out another moan.

"So you do like it rough? Thought so."

You let the wax crayon fall onto the windowsill. Hooking your arms under her legs, you pull her towards you.

"Oh, fuck!"

Her cry can be heard throughout the whole house. You're sure of it. You're buried balls deep inside her cunt. Your thrusts are harder now. You go as fast as possible, not wanting to give her a split second to breath. Her eyes, once locked on yours, are now rolling to the back of her head. Haewon's mouth hangs open in a silent moan.

"Are you a whore?"

This time, Haewon doesn't even respond. Maybe she didn't hear you. Who cares?

You let one leg fall down to reach for the crayon. Another two words are added to the others.

"Sex object"

Between her collarbone and her throat.

Haewon feels you, marking her again. But an overwhelming heat rushes through her body in an alarming pace. It starts out inside her pussy. Right around your cock. It travels through her core. Through her abdomen and her organs. Past her tits. Through her throat. Until it finally reaches her brain. And her mouth.

"Oh holy fuck!"

Haewon cums hard. You start to produce squishing sounds as you keep stuffing Haewon's wet pussy with your cock. Her hands search for your body, trying to push you away. Her legs quiver and shake, before they wrap around you, trapping you in place.

"N-No more."

She weakly sighs, once she has started to calm down.

"I haven't heard the magic word from you yet.

"Haewon, honey! Are you alright? The clock is ticking!"

Misses Oh's voice makes you both look at the door. Luckily, it sounded like it was coming from downstairs.

"In a minute."

Haewon's voice cracks in the middle of her sentence.

"Maybe we should open that door and let them hear you."

"Whore!"

You're surprised at how quickly Haewon blurts out that word.

"I'm a whore! I admit it."

She looks down, very aware that your still inside of her.

"I know. "

You lean forward and kiss her forehead.

"Was it that hard?"

Haewon timidly shakes her head.

Her eyes widen when you raise the crayon again.

"W-Wait what are you doing?"

"Hold still."

"But-"

"I feel like your confession isn't coming from a genuine place, you know? Plus, I need to mark the spot, where I want to cum."

Haewon gulps, but stays silent and doesn't move.

You start on her right cheek. Three words. You keep going, even when you reach her nose. Once you are on the other side of her face, you finish the line. The last letter is placed right next to the first word you wrote on her. The new words cover her whole face. From right to left.

"Cum hungry slut"

You don't tell her what you wrote.

"Knees."

Haewon follows your order and you're back to where you started. It doesn't take long for her to bring you to the edge from there. A nice, quick blowjob. Her hands massaging your cock. Her tongue lapping her own juices off of you.

"Damn, Haewon."

You grunt, which makes her look up at you with those big eyes.

She points your cock at her own face, strokes you two more times and then makes you orgasm. You explode right above her face, covering it with your cum. Her nose, her cheeks, her lips. All of it is ruined by your seed. And the rest of her body is marked with red wax.

"Write it down."

You nod towards her desk.

Haewon understands. She doesn't even get off the ground. She crawls the short distance, reaches up and grabs a piece of paper and the black crayon. You enjoy the view of her ass, before she turns back around. She writes one word.

"WHORE"

When she looks up again, you're already holding your phone in your hand, the camera ready.

Haewon holds up her self made sign.

"A little lower."

You make sure that every single mark you left on her body is clearly visible. Your cum is still staining her face as well.

"What a whore you are."

You chuckle as you snap a couple of pictures.

------------

Hi everybody!

Hope you enjoyed this one. This chapter is gonna be the last of of this small series. So there won't be any follow up fics.

Stay healthy!

[bookshelf-dust]

stubborn

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @hawkinsboys

word count: 2,970

warnings: swearing, a couple sexualish comments, mechanic!billy, enemies to lovers type beat, set post-college

synopsis: working with billy hargrove is the bane of your existence. you can’t stand him. can’t stand how gorgeous he is. or that he might not be the bad guy you thought he was.

a/n: hi lovelies!! it’s been forever since i wrote for billy—most of which is due to focusing on school and all the writing i do for that, but also i just hadn’t had any good ideas for him. but alas, this one came to me, and i think it turned out pretty cute. let me know what you think!! lets yap about him!!! ♥️

————

“Nah, you’re all good, Mrs. Peterson.” 

Billy says your name, amiably walking the elderly woman up to the front desk with one hand hovering behind her in case she needs to be steadied. “She’ll take care of you, and if you need anything else you can give us a call.” 

Mrs. Peterson grins, patting the skin on Billy’s forearm. She slips him a butterscotch candy. You cringe when he winks and pulls the plastic wrapping away, popping the treat in his mouth. He hates butterscotch, but he eats it whenever Mrs. Peterson comes in to get her oil changed because she always gives him something to snack on. 

Fucking kiss-ass, you think. 

“Thank you, sweetie.” Her gaze shifts to you as she settles her pocketbook on the countertop and begins digging around inside. “Nice boy, that one. Makes me happy to see that boys are still being raised properly.” She rubs her chest.

Her glasses slide down the bridge of her nose. “If I were you, young lady, I’d be sure to snatch up a man that well-rounded before it’s too late.”

Your palms go all sweaty just as the cash drawer opens. If only she knew. You start counting out her change. “Mrs. Peterson, Billy and I are just coworkers. Besides, I’m not really his type.”

The woman sighs. “What’s all this about types? If you like someone, you like them. You kids make things much too complicated nowadays.”

“Tell me about it,” you mutter under your breath. You watch as Mrs. Peterson grabs a mint from the counter on her way out. 

A quick glance at the clock has you rolling your eyes. It’s just you and Billy on shift today, no buffer between you to keep the peace, or at least prevent you from having to look at him for too long. You don’t have another appointment for close to two hours. Your nails tap against the vinyl tabletop. There’s a Dr. Pepper you left in the back of the fridge—maybe that’ll help you power through. 

You turn around and your entire body jolts. “Jesus fuck!”

Billy laughs. “Sorry, sugar. Figured you heard me walk over.”

“I was too busy thinking of how I could avoid you until our next appointment gets here.”

He crosses his arms and leans up against the doorframe. He’s so stupidly attractive when he does that that it makes you want to knee him in the balls. “How sweet. Anyway, I’m gonna go pick up lunch. You want me to get you somethin’?”

“I’m good.”

You start towards the break room. Billy steps to the side and blocks your path. “I’m going to that sandwich place up the street. What do you want?”

You duck below Billy’s arm. He just lowers it so you can’t get around him. 

“I said I’m good.”

Billy’s gaze drops to your mouth and back up to your eyes. He takes a step closer to you, enough so that you can smell his cologne. You tell him at least once a week that you hate it, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t cherished the way it lingers after he leaves a room. 

“And I asked what you want. You didn’t bring lunch.”

You scoff. “How the fuck would you know that?” You raise your hands, gesturing with them as you fuss at him. 

“Because every morning you come in here with all those fuckin’ bags and you were missing one. Probably because you were late.”

“Oh, right, because I can control when my car won’t start and then there’s an accident on the freeway!” 

Billy’s arms drop. “Your car wouldn’t start?”

“Go get your lunch, Billy.”

He keeps his eyes on yours when he snatches his keys off the hook under the front desk. “You want a pickle today or no?”

“Oh my god, Billy!” 

You practically shove him out the front door and then flip the welcome sign to say Be Back Soon! He blows a kiss at you from the driver's seat of his car. You flip him off in return and just know he’s laughing when he pulls out of the parking lot.

When he gets back, you’re chugging your Dr. Pepper. For a moment, you’d been scared that one of the other mechanics on shift the past few days would’ve taken it, especially because you forgot to write your initials on the cap. 

It bothers you that Billy realized you’d forgotten to pack lunch. It bothers you that he knows what time you get to work. It bothers you that he could tell you’re hungry. But at the same time, knowing that he pays enough attention to you to know those things—it sends a startling recognition down your throat. Your shoulders stiffen.

You like that he knows those things. And you hate it, because he is the last person you want to feel any attraction towards. 

You inhale through your nose and hold your eyes closed for a few seconds before you exhale. You’re not going to think about that right now. 

You make your way back to the front of the shop. A frown forms on your face when you see that Billy has set up on your desk, housing his lunch. There’s a matching sandwich across from him. 

“Jesus, Billy, I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

His throat works as he swallows. Your eyes drag down the length of his neck, all thick veins and lustrous skin. 

“And I told you I don’t give a fuck. Eat.”

A spark of anger rises to the forefront of your thoughts. You want to tell him not to boss you around, but you pause, feeling like that will only make you sound like a petulant child. You might as well stomp your feet and squeal. 

You sit down on your stool with a huff. You look Billy in the eye and rip the paper covering your sandwich. “Fuck you.”

Billy sucks something off the tip of his thumb and laughs through his nose.

“Do you have to be such a priss all the time?” he asks. “Just accept when people do shit for you. Say thank you or somethin,’ even.”

“Don’t worry, I promise I save all my prissiness for you, Hargrove.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Thank God for that.”

“What? I heard you talking up Mrs. Petersen earlier. Yes, ma’am. No ma’am. Of course ma’am. Do you need your feet rubbed, ma’am?”

“Funny.”

“You’re so good at wrapping everyone around your finger. It’s nauseating.”

“And you aren’t? You’d think you got some condition with how often you bat your eyelashes.”

“It’s called being nice? Customers are supposed to come back, not run screaming because one of you was a dick.”

Billy scoffs, shaking his styrofoam cup around. “That was quite literally one time.”

“You were a dick to that lady! She wrote a hate letter and copied it and then put it up outside the library and Benny’s and fuckin’ Melvald’s!”

“Oh, come on.” He says your name once more. There’s something about the way he says it that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like he might as well be whispering it directly into your ear. “You know she was a total bitch! She kept asking me if I was old enough to be working here and telling me that my hair was a safety hazard and that I should cut it. Then, when she asked where I was from and I told her, she said, and I quote, ‘Hawkins used to be a nice place. You west coasters are killing all the mom and pops.’ What does that have to do with me?”

You’re silent for a minute. You absolutely know he’s right. But do you want to admit that? No.

“She’s kind of right about your hair though. You always forget to tie it up. Even I wor—notice it when you’re under a car and cringe.”

You hope Billy hasn’t caught your slip up, but by the look on his face, he totally has. A smirk plays on his lips. She worries about me, it says. Before the conversation can go any further, you grab hold of his wrist where it’d been resting on the counter. His brows raise in confusion, less from the fact that it’s random and more because you’ve literally never touched him before. 

He watches as you roll a hair tie off of your forearm and onto his. You give it a playful snap once it’s settled at the joint of his wrist. “There,” you say. “No more excuses now, Hargrove. And thanks for the sandwich.”

He never noticed you take it, but when he snaps out of his daze brought on watching your hips sway as you walk away, it’s gone from where he left it.

————

Billy is worried. It’s past the time you could be even remotely late to work. You’re not there. You’re not at work.

He doesn’t second guess himself when he looks you up in the book—never having been given your number—and dials. Straight to voicemail. What the fuck?

It’s unlike you to just not show up. Surely you would’ve called out if something happened. But Billy asked around, and no one else on shift has heard a thing.

The phone at the front desk rings. Normally, you’d be the one to answer, but you’re not here. Billy hastily picks it up. 

“Roane Park Automotive, this is Billy.”

“Billy!”

He says your name, along with a slew of other curses. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you here?”

“Um, about that. Do you remember when I mentioned that my car wouldn’t start?”

“You mean when I tried to talk to you about it and you brushed me off?”

“Save it. Anyway, it broke down this morning. I thought I could fix it myself but my knowledge is limited to what my dad taught me—which it turns out, isn’t much. I had someone try to help me jump it off, but that didn’t work either. So I walked—

“You walked?”

“Let me finish! I walked to the nearest pay phone and well, here we are.”

“Keep your pretty little ass right where it is. I’m coming to get you.” 

“It’s fine, really. I just need a tow, I guess? I don’t know. I can call someone else or—

“Hush. Give me a landmark or something—I still haven’t learned the names of these damn roads.”

When Billy gets to you, he swears his head is gonna explode. You’re sitting on the hood of your car, swinging your legs. Swinging your legs. You’re driving him insane. He thinks he could be truly mad at you if you didn’t look so damn cute while doing the most obnoxious thing you could be doing. 

He calls your name and you wave from your seat, quickly sliding down to meet him. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he huffs.

You guffaw. “Okay, wow. What ever happened to hello?”

Billy opens your driver's side door and presses the switch to unlatch your hood. He’s popping it within seconds. “I fuckin’ told you to let me look at your car. You had me worrying my ass off up there, thinking something happened to you—”

“You were worried about me?”

Billy glares at you, his hand somewhere within the depths of your car. You might work in a shop, but you don’t know a thing when it comes to cars. 

“You never listen. You know how infuriating that is?” 

Of course he’s avoiding the question. 

“Why do you expect me to listen to you, Hargrove?”

The sound of metal on metal makes you cringe. “I don’t know, maybe cuz it’s basic fuckin’ decency to listen to people trying to help you?”

“Yeah, well some people are just assholes and not worth listening to.”

Billy straightens so fast you’re worried he’s gonna hit his head. You hate the way your arm jolts, wanting to protect him from injury. 

“Who are you calling an asshole, princess?”

You cross your arms. “I think you know who,” you say. 

Billy steps into your space, slamming the hood of your car shut so hard it makes you blink. Now's as good a time as any, he thinks. 

“You gonna tell me what the fuck your problem is already or just keep prancing around me for the rest of our lives?”

You roll your eyes. It infuriates him. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit!”

“You’re just a prick, okay? You always have been! Ever since you showed up in Hawkins. You have this—this God complex!”

Billy has the nerve to laugh. Fully tosses his head back and laughs, slapping the side of your car. 

“So what, you went to school with me for a couple years and now we work together and you think you know me?”

“I know your kind, Billy! You’re all the fucking same!”

If possible, he gets even closer to you. “And what’s my kind, sweetheart?” 

“Oh, I think you know. Maybe we only went to high school together our last year, but this town is fucking small! I couldn’t escape you in college, even after I changed my major. You act like your shit doesn’t stink, Billy.”

He laughs again. 

“You listen to your loud music and there’s always a new mark on your neck, a new girl on your arm—usually the skinniest, bleach blonde girl—and you never spare anyone a glance if they’re not up to your standards. That I know. I wasn’t a cheerleader in high school and I wasn’t begging to suck your dick and I sure as hell didn’t fall for your reformed bad boy shit in college! You’re just another gorgeous guy who’s an absolute asshole.”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Billy asks. He crosses his arms, mimicking you. It makes you want to slap him. Maybe kiss him stupid. 

“Oh, fuck off! That’s exactly what I mean! It’s all about reputation with guys like you, about notches on your belt or how many people you need to stomp on before people start calling you a king.”

When Billy reaches out to straighten your shirtsleeve from where it’s folded in on itself, you don’t flinch or even think about punching him. 

“I’m not a tyrant, babe. And have you ever, for just a second, considered that all that shit was a defense mechanism? Or does that not fit the bill you’ve got written up in that pretty little head of yours?”

You don’t say anything. Billy can see your brain recalculating.

Finally, “I don’t think being a prick calls for a healthy defense mechanism. Ever heard of therapy? Or like, fucking running? Or I don’t know! It’s always the pretty ones who are jack—”

Billy shuts you up the only way he can think to. The only way he’s wanted to for months. He kisses you. And he’s good at it. You start to lose yourself in it before the intelligent part of your brain sends alarm signals to the rest of you, making you pull away. One look at Billy has your knees going weak. 

His lips are swollen and this deep pink color that makes them look more enticing, if that’s even possible. His pupils are blown and the weight of his hand on the back of your neck is hypnotizing. 

“What?” he questions. You both just stare at each other for a moment. You smack him on the arm. It’s the only thing you could think to do. Billy looks down at his arm, his brows knitting together, and then back up at you. There’s the start of a grin on his face. 

He lets out an oomph sound when you grab his shirt collar and yank his mouth back to yours. He’s smiling into the kiss, letting out these little breathy laughs against your lips and when he slides a hand down your spine you swear you don’t know how you’ve lived your life thus far without knowing what it felt like to kiss Billy Hargrove. 

You kiss him hard, enough to express that you’re head over heels for him and can’t even find it in yourself to be angry about it. You pull away and take a few steps back. 

Billy is watching you, trying to figure out what your next move will be. He reaches out and swipes his thumb against the corner of your mouth. 

In an effort to put off discussing the fact that you just made out on the side of the road, you try to finish your argument from moments before. 

“You really did used to be an asshole, Billy. I couldn’t stand being around you, seeing how you treated everyone—I don’t know.”

Billy shakes his head. “No, you’re right. I was an asshole. But what I said about it being a defense mechanism was true. A shitty life made a shitty guy, you know? I’d hope you could tell that I’m not that guy anymore now, but clearly I still get under your skin.”

“It’s easier to fight with you than admit you can be that gorgeous and not a total dick and also that you can be those things and like me at the same time.”

Billy laughs lowly and steps back into your space. “I can do all that and more, pretty girl. Let me prove it to you.”

You let Billy kiss you again, slower this time. “I’ll think about it,” you say. Neither of you say anything for a moment. 

Billy chuckles under his breath. “Reformed bad boy.”

You swat him on the arm. “Leave me alone!” You giggle. 

“Your alternator’s fucked, by the way.”

You blink. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Come on. Get your ass in the car. You can fuss at me some more on the way back to the shop.”

“As long as you kiss me to shut me up again.”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[wwaheoh]

“Making Lunch For Them” - Victoria Housekeeping x gnReader (Platonic)

Alexandrina Sebastiane, Corin Wickes, Ellen Joe, Von Lycaon

a/n: was hunger bungers when writing this

You had been pretty steadily acclimating to your new part-time job at Victoria Housekeeping. It was pretty fun! Apart from the whole “fighting Hollows” on the side- but with your high Ether Aptitude and company sponsored martial arts classes, even the fighting from time to time became enjoyable.

Your coworkers were all very kind. The elegant and warm Mr. Lycaon, your employer, who always aimed to uplift you and never showed any sort of malice or anger whenever you messed up or were unfamiliar with a task. The graceful, gentle Ms. Sebastiane, your senior, was always so nice to you and gave you tips and advice whenever you asked, even offering to cook you food sometime! You haven’t taken her up on her offer yet, but seeing as how well she does the rest of her duties, you could only imagine how great her cooking tastes! There was Ms. Corin, a timid girl who always undervalued her skills- even if truthfully, they were contrary to how she described them. And Ellen Joe, who was also part-timing while attending school. She tended to sleep pretty often, though it made sense, juggling education, work, and maintaining social lives.

They were incredibly helpful and as you became more comfortable around them, you wanted to show your appreciation to them. It took a while, having to subtly probe for information while not giving yourself away. Thankfully after a few questions it was easy to figure out if they had any allergies or favorite foods.

On a weekend, you rose early before your shift began, pulling ingredients from the fridge and starting up the music from your phone. Recipes written down and tweaked to fit their preferences.

After a few hours, you added the finishers and promptly put the food into storage, lunch boxes with Halloween icon stickers slapped on. Frankenstein, a shark, ghosts, and a werewolf.

Taking a shower, you donned your work attire and made your way to the location of the job for today, something not too difficult, just some cleaning and guarding the premises, the usual. Now was the time to deliver your gifts!

Carrying the lunch box with the Frankenstein sticker, you made your way through the premises to find the first victim of your gifts, Corin! You knew she was nearest to where you were stationed- and after a few minutes you found her. Turning the corner, you found the soft green-haired maid cleaning up a vase with a brush.

Approaching from behind, you called out to her, “Corin! There you are!” “Ahh!” She yelled, nearly dropping the vase before quickly getting a handle of it and setting it down before turning to you. “Ah, sorry! Didn’t know you had something in your hands.” You apologized, knowing how the maid was a little accident-prone.

“It’s fine! Uhm, what did you need?” To answer that question, you lifted up the lunch box, “I made some lunch for you all, to show my appreciation!” “Oh! That’s so nice of you, but I didn’t really do much…” “Ah c’mon! You’ve done a lot! You’ve really helped me get used to this job and are a role model!” “Oh that’s so nice to hear…” She shrinked into herself, thankfully not out of negativity but basking in your compliment, a slight giggle escaping her. “Uhm, well thank you! I can’t wait to eat it!” “Hope you enjoy it!”

With that she took her lunch, taking the lunchbox with her to a nearby suitable dining area and opening up the lunchbox.

Inside were some of her favorite foods! Small decorations and a smell that was heavenly. It wasn’t heavy- seeing as she was still on the job, a perfect portion! Her heart wobbled, thinking of how kind you were to offer your cooking to her, she was going to enjoy it for sure!

Shark-stickered lunchbox in hand, you looked through the premises, before finding the shark-girl resting her arm on one of the shelves as she dusted them off. A lollipop in her mouth as usual to help keep her up.

Just as you rounded the corner, it seemed like she already knew you were in the room. Turning towards you, she nodded as greetings, “Yo.”

“Hey Ellen!” You lifted one of the lunchboxes up and towards her. “I made lunch for everyone!” She was surprised, touched that you went through the lengths. Gladly, she took the lunch box and opened it up, chuckling, much to your confusion and worry, as she did.

“So that’s why you were asking all those questions.” “Oh! I thought I was pretty subtle about it…” “You call that subtle? Well you pretty much got it perfect, was feeling pretty tired- this should help!” Pleased to have gotten the food right, you waved your goodbyes, “I’m gonna go deliver the rest to the others!” “Seeya!” She waved back.

Going over to a nearby suitable dining area, she set the lunchbox down and opened up, the familiar smell of her favorite food filling her nose. With a giddy feeling, she dug in, already feeling her energy coming back.

With a lunch box decorated with ghost-themed stickers in hand, you made your way through the halls of the premises and to where Ms. Sebastiane was directed to maintain. You wandered back and forth, confused from not being able to find her before feeling a light grip on your shoulder. “Boo.” A silky voice whispered into your ear, an audible smile in her voice. Turning, you nearly let out a yelp- only a small one escaping you, before realizing who the hand that was on your shoulder belonged to. The very person you were looking for.

“Ah! Miss Sebastiane! I was looking for you!” She nodded as you had quickly recovered from the surprise, “Mhm, what was it dear?” “I uh, I made something for everyone! You all have been really nice and I wanted to make something to show my appreciation!” Pulling the lunchbox out, you hand your senior the box.

Taking it with a grateful smile, she opens it up, the familiar smell of her favorite food filling her senses. A small chuckle leaves her, “So that’s why you’ve been asking all those questions…” “Oh, I thought I was pretty subtle about it…” “Don’t worry, we don’t deal in undercover work apart from what you already know.” Closing the lunchbox, she drifted close and embraced you. “Thank you, it looks wonderful!” You returned the embrace, after a few seconds the two of you let go and she drifted back. “I’m going to go deliver the last of the lunch boxes I prepared!” She nodded, bidding you adieu as you left.

She made her way to a suitable dining area, softly settling herself and the lunchbox down. Opening it up and preparing the utensils, she took a bite of what you had made for her. While she usually projected gracefulness and a soft professionalism, she could not stop the squeal of delight and the smiles brought from the gift.

Going over to where Mr. Lycaon was stationed with the final lunchbox, stickers of wolves decorating the case, you rounded the corner and found the boss of Victoria Housekeeping pretty easily, with him being vacuuming.

“Uh, sir!” You spoke over the loud fans inside the vacuum he was holding, with him quickly noticing you and turning it off. “How may I be of assistance?” His rumbly voice spoke in the now quiet room. “Well sir, I brought lunch!” You both approached each other, meeting in the middle as you handed the lunch box over to him, with him gratefully accepting the gift. “It smells wonderful, I imagine this is why you’ve been inquiring so much about everyone’s tastes?” “Ah- yes sir! Though I believed I was subtle about my information gathering…” “Haha, it’s of no concern. I thank you for this meal, you must give me the recipe some time!” “Of course sir! I have it written down somewhere at home, I’ll get it to you as soon as I can!”

With that, you bid each other farewell for now, with you going to where you had been stationed and beginning your shift properly. Lycaon on the other hand had decided that now was a perfect time for a break, finding himself somewhere suitable to dine before cracking the lunchbox open once more and enjoying what you had made. It was incredibly well made, making him wish he could have seconds. Alas, as he licked his snout and attempted to get his tail under control, he hoped to try more of your cooking.

[mads-hemmo]

Too Sweet - Jschlatt part 1

baseball coach Schlatt x math teacher reader

Reader is a math teacher who finds her computer science teacher coworker an asshole. Schlatt finds his algebra/geometry coworker very annoying. What happens when they are forced to be around each other and get along?

You knew you wanted to be a teacher from a very young age. At first you thought you wanted to teach at the elementary level, but you found a love for math. After graduating with a math degree, you accepted a job at a high school in New York. Although you wanted to teach AP Statistics and Calculus, you got a job as the general algebra and geometry. This means that the majority of your classes are full of athletes and kids who do not care about their education.

You watch as a group of baseball boys walk into the classroom. “Josh, Drew, Sawyer did you do your homework?” You ask the boys.

Sawyer grabs a crumpled piece of paper out of his backpack and hands it to you. The other two boys look at you in shock. “We had an away game last night. We weren’t able to complete it,” Drew finally says.

“How did Sawyer get his done, but you two did not?” You ask the boys with a look of disbelief.

“I did mine on the bus.”

“Coach Schlatt told us not to worry about it as focusing on the game is the most important,” Josh tells you.

“I guess I’ll be having a conversation with Coach Schlatt later. Go take a seat, we are learning a new concept,” you tell the boys. You turn around to take a deep breath. Of course, Coach Schlatt, the baseball coach and computer science teacher would tell his players to not do your homework. You both have had an issue with each other since you started working here. All Schlatt cares about is baseball and his players being the best. Which sometimes means that he doesn’t expect them to do your assignments or if they fall asleep in class. He claims that they probably needed the sleep.

At the end of class, you decide to pay Coach Schlatt a visit during your prep time. As you both worked in the math and computer department, you had the same prep period. You knock on his open door and he looks up from his phone. “Ms. (Y/L/N), can I help you?” He asks you.

“Yes I needed to speak with you about a few of your players,” you tell him, walking up to his desk.

“What did they do this time?”

“Well Drew and Josh did not do their homework. Sawyer completed him, but the other two didn’t. They claimed that they weren’t able to because you had a game last night and also you told them it didn’t matter.”

He sighs and looks directly at you. “I told them to focus on the game. But have you read the research that shows that homework isn’t an effective way of teaching?”

You narrow your eyes at him, slightly. “Yes, I have. The only reason they had homework is because they felt my class time was time to play around.”

He nods a bit. “I’ll talk to them. Though you may need to work on your classroom management and also I’m sure they needed your help.”

“Thank you for your time. I’ll leave you alone.” You turn around to walk back to your classroom. “What an asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

You go back to your class to get some work done, hopefully working off your stress. How could someone be so bluntly rude? Did he really insult your teaching and your classroom management? You felt that you did your job well. Your admin seems to think so, but maybe you aren’t.

At lunchtime, you walk into your best friend’s classroom in the fine arts building. Ted or Mr. Nivision is the drama teacher and the two of you quickly became kids. As you have the same lunch period, you eat together every day. You grab your premade lunch from the mini fridge in his room. After you grab it, you slam the door. “Woah what’s wrong with you?”

You put your lunch in the microwave and slam that door too. “Coach Schlatt is what’s wrong! He’s such a douchebag.”

“What did he do this time?” Ted asks, eating his salad.

“He told his players that my homework was not important. When I went to talk to him about it, he brought up research about how homework is unnecessary. Obviously I know that. They only have homework because they refused to do it in my class. I told him that and he insulted my teaching and my classroom management,” you vent to him.

“I’m so glad I don’t teach a core content class. I think I would choke a kid out.” You laugh slightly at him. “That’s stupid of him. He’s usually a pretty good guy, but that was just uncalled for.”

You grab your lunch from the microwave and take a seat beside Ted. “I know he’s your friend or whatever, but he’s an asshole. I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much.”

Before Ted can say anything, you hear footsteps walking into his room. You look up to see Schlatt walking in. You turn to look at Ted in disbelief. “Oh yeah (Y/N), I forgot to tell you that Schlatt is going to start joining us for lunch.”

“Awesome,” you mutter with a forced smile. “Glad that you are joining us,” are the words that came out. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and choke on his lunch. However, you decide to stay civil and give him your best smile. Hopefully Coach Schlatt will do the same.

A/N: new series!! I am so excited to write some enemies to lovers and teacherxteacher ! I hope you guys enjoy it!! Let me know what you think!!

Masterlist

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #25

New Year, New Me?

Imagine dis…

We all know that when Danny died, he changed. From his black hair and blue-eyed kid to a white-haired and green-eyed ghost kid. We also know that ghosts were once humans just misunderstood, had unfinished business, or were just out for the injustice they have faced in the face of death.

But what if Danny is just a baby ghost in every sense and now, he is getting more powerful and more tuned in with his ghostly side that he began to change?

…

Danny knew that there was something wrong with him, not just the fact that he had died and came back alive and well that’s a whole other story. The fact that there is something wrong with his ghostly side, that to the point it began affecting his human side. His jaw began to ache and when he looked into the mirror he saw some of his teeth beginning to sharpen like a canine would, his hair looked like it wasn’t held by gravity as his parents had chalked it up with him using a different type of conditioner to make it more fluffy, his skin began having these weird spams in the middle of the day as well his uncanny need to stay in a cold room Mr. Lancer swore 10 book titles under his breath when he saw him taking a nap inside the cafeteria fridge.

But the worst of it came when he fought Skulker, it was another normal Thursday for the Halfa but as he was fighting off Skulker who was already spewing out his usual rant about mounting his pelt he saw another figure. Behind Skulker is another figure that looked like him more shadowy yet bloodied, covered in rusty metal that he swore he heard it creaking as if two metals were grinding to each other, with each move that Skulker made. Seeing he was distracted Skulker made a lucky hit to him as if he was back in his first year as a ghost. Danny shook his head and immediately souped the ghost and tried to forget the more horrific and unsettling version of Shulker.

Danny tried to hide it but when his friends and sister began noticing his changes, they made him visit the Far Frozen.

Frostbite was confused and worried at his changes and explained to Danny in great detail that what he was going through was a ghostly equivalent to puberty.

Since he had recently died his ghostly side had registered him being a baby despite being in his teens in his human. Normally ghost children would not transition after 5 centuries as they have not only been deemed absorbed enough ectoplasm but also have been mature enough a good example would be Box Lunch who was barely 146 years old while Youngblood was nearing his transition.

Frostbite offered a conclusion that it may be a fact that he slept on top of the active portal which leaks massive ectoplasm radiation and when he fought off ghosts who are centuries older and more experienced than him made his ghostly side mature faster, like how children were forced to mature faster when incompetent parents are around. Now that he has not only become more attuned or in one with his ghostly side, but his ghostly side is also slowly forming his eldritch abomination kinda like human symptoms of puberty like broadening of shoulder, pitch voice…etc, Frostbite explained.

Danny asked about his sight when Skulker visited him as well he felt that time. Danny was still distraught when he went home but when he had the time to process what he saw, instead of feeling scared or deep panic at what he saw instead felt a deep relief at the image.

Frostbite told Danny since he is transitioning to becoming a young adult, what he is seeing is the true form of ghosts.

The citizens of the Infinite Realms are naturally terrifying, gruesome, ghastly, ghoulish…etc for years there had been no problem with their appearance but when the first Ancients went to visit a mortal plane for an official Realm duty, they were horrified to see that not only humans scream with pure unaltered fear but also went brain dead the moment they laid their eyes on the said Ancients as their minds cannot comprehend the sheer true form of the said Ancients. As the said Ancients felt guilty for what they had caused the humans went in a vegetable state and began practicing into shifting into a more humane form, something more modest as to when they visit another mortal world in case of another duty. As the practice was only practiced in a small island that the Ancients ruled it soon spread out to the entire Realms. It spread so far that even other Ancients began copying it and it didn’t take too long for it to become a norm.

So when the Fenton portal as well as Vlad’s portal opened it became instinctive for the ghosts to pass through to where their more “humane” side and only show their real appearance in their haunt or when they have a mate or to their respective fight mates.

Frostbite gave him something for the pain and offered to help Danny with his transition, which Danny gratefully thanked the yeti and flew off.

Since then he slowly yet surely became accustomed to the changes to himself as he felt more him. His friends and sister tried to hide it from the Fenton couple despite being oblivious that they would surely notice the changes. Fake teeth and make-up did their thing as Sam may not enjoy the pinkish/feminine side of her make-up collection courtesy of her parents but sure damn well those foundations are of good quality.

His ghostly companions that came for their weekly brawl began noticing the large shadow behind their local halfa, some were horrified as they thought they were fighting a baby all this time and were just in their transition but others had congratulated Danny for basically growing up. Maturing? Transitioning? They don’t know the right word but hell yeah they are proud.

Add to the fact that he just became the Ghost King, which means that his ghostly side will be more horrific, gory, and ghastly than a usual ghost as their real form reflects their strength.

…

Danny didn’t know but for some reason, Amnity’s CPS launched an investigation into the Fenton couple. Had found out that having a house? Structure? Home? Full of weapons is not a viable home for a teenage boy like himself and was promptly removed from their custody and the premises. Of course, the Fenton couple tried to fight off the verdict, heck even Vlad tried to help the two for the sake of Maddie and even tried to have Danny placed with him.

In the end, Danny is relocated to a far place away from his parents as well as his godfather one of the CPS workers pointed out that Danny has bruises every time, he visits Vlad which puts him under the scrutiny of a different kind of investigation as well.

Jazz was considered out of the hostile environment as she had just moved from their home to her dorm and had just been given a protection order that said that her parents including Vlad were to stay away from her as well as have no contact with the said individuals as it may affect the proceedings.

Danny bounced from one foster to another up until he ended up with the foster parent who had the greatest record, Bruce Wayne himself.

At first, Danny tries every trick he can think of in the book to be removed as well as isolating himself within his room in the manor to be transferred as the moment he went ghost to look at his surroundings and saw the secret basement as well the Wayne family being the glorified furry brigade he wants out! He is not sharing a roof with a fruit loop thank you very much, but as the days went by he began getting used to the Waynes and thought that he may have grown to the Waynes.

Though how come Duke smiled too tight whenever he saw him?

…

Duke knew there was something wrong with the new kid. Don’t get him wrong black hair, and blue eyes alongside a so, so situation with his parents made him the prime adoption bait for the family. They were just waiting for him to discover the cave on his own to be officially introduced to the family. But there is something so wrong with Danny.

Sure, his diet tends to have his meat lean more on the medium rare side or even to the bloody side, and chalked it up to growing up not learning how to properly cook and brushing it off.

Sure he is too quiet to the point he is scaring and surprising highly trained vigilantes which has multiple people being trained by the best in the world.

Sure he tends to go to places which is cold, too cold for his liking, Alfred nearly had a heart attack seeing Danny sleeping in the large freezer which contained the meat and other perishable items that needed to be frozen to preserve.

But the biggest thing that made Duke uneasy was the shadow looming over Danny. It was huge to the point it reached the manor ceilings. Its very green toxic eyes seemed to lock on him every time he entered the room. Duke accidentally made eye contact when he is hanging out with Dick, Tim, and Danny. It practically swallowed him whole with the way it looked at him, it made all of his hair straighten up. Dick who noticed him froze up and asked him what was wrong, he excised himself and ran to the farthest corner of the manor and proceeded to throw up his lunch due to the unspeakable things that things showed to him.

(In reality, Danny’s ghostly side is trying to show Duke what would he do to his enemies as well as to whomever harmed them)

Duke is now contemplating what to tell the rest of the Batclan how Danny is cursed. Haunted? and have them call Zatanna or Constantine to get rid of whatever it is.

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: As you can see I cannot write horror to save my life so please pardon me, I tried my best…:-P

[s4uddy]

There so cute I’m gonna cry

[zapreportsblog]

Could you do something with the Cullens where the reader has a meltdown at school and they find out it’s because they have diabetes and their blood sugar dropped and they can’t find their juice box they packed just in case

❝i need a juice box❞

✭ pairing : cullen siblings x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) has diabetes and their sugar intake tends to drop quite a bit hence why their always remember to bring a pack of juices with them everywhere, not only does it help but it’s tasty too. But then one day her juice boxes bust in her locker, so what does any frustrated person do? Have a mental breakdown like it’s the end of the world, luckily some classmates of hers has her back

✭ authors note : Ayo ignore that juice part that says no sugar added 😭 i used the first picture i seen of juice and those shits be bustin. Ah and I’ve been watching anime lately so i apologize in advance for the lack of writing I’m putting out

✭ twilight masterlist 2

(Y/N) had always been well-acquainted with the delicate balance of her health. Diabetes wasn't just a condition for her; it was a family legacy. With half her family members wrestling with the same ailment, it was almost a rite of passage.

The sun had barely risen over Forks as she hurriedly got ready for her first day at Forks High School. This new beginning was daunting enough, but it became even more challenging with the knowledge that her diabetes would be a constant companion throughout the day.

As she zipped up her school bag, she made sure to slot in her lifeline - a package of juices. These juices were her safety net, ensuring her blood sugar levels stayed within a safe range. She had diligently followed this routine every day, her tiny insurance policy against hypoglycemia.

With her backpack securely on her shoulders, (Y/N) headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her mom greeted her with a warm smile, understanding the importance of this daily ritual. "Don't forget your juices, dear," she reminded.

(Y/N) grabbed the chilled package from the fridge and slipped it into her bag. "Thanks, Mom," she said, returning the smile. Her mom's familiarity with diabetes had always been a source of comfort.

Minutes later, she was out the door and on her way to Forks High School. The campus buzzed with excitement, but (Y/N) couldn't help feeling a bit of trepidation. New school, new faces, and the relentless specter of diabetes were a lot to handle.

History class was her first stop, and she found a seat next to a boy named Jasper. They exchanged polite nods as she settled into her chair, trying to focus on the teacher's introduction.

Then it happened. A discreet but insistent beep emanated from her wrist. Her watch timer, meticulously set to remind her when to take her juice, had gone off. This was the crucial moment to maintain her blood sugar levels. With practiced ease, she reached into her bag to retrieve her juice, only to discover her heart-sinking realization – it wasn't there.

Panic started to creep in, her fingers trembling as she fumbled through her bag in desperation. Jasper, noticing her distress, leaned closer. "Is everything okay?" he asked in a concerned whisper.

(Y/N) could feel her face flush with anxiety. She mumbled, "I think I left my juice in my locker. I need to go get it."

The teacher, Mrs. Thompson, glanced their way. "Is there a problem?"

(Y/N) stuttered, "I just need to grab something from my locker. It won't take long, I promise."

Mrs. Thompson nodded, granting her permission to leave the class. Her heart raced as she hurried out the door, fervently hoping that her juice would be where she thought it was.

(Y/N) practically sprinted through the hallways, her heart pounding in her chest. The idea of waiting another four hours until lunch without her juice was unbearable. She needed to retrieve her lifeline from her locker, and she needed it now.

Finally, she reached her locker, a sense of relief washing over her as she yanked it open. But that relief quickly turned to frustration as she stared at the sight before her. Her textbooks had fallen over and, in a cruel twist of fate, had crushed the juice boxes. Their colorful packaging was torn and sticky liquid seeped from the ruined containers.

"No, no, no," she muttered in frustration, tears welling up in her eyes. It felt like the universe was conspiring against her today, and the overwhelming weight of her situation crashed down on her shoulders. Her mind raced with thoughts of how she would make it through the day without her juice.

Just when it seemed like her world was spiraling out of control, a voice interrupted her thoughts. "Hey, are you okay?" It was Rosalie, a girl she barely knew, but one of the few familiar faces in this new school.

(Y/N) blinked back tears and explained what had happened, her voice quivering with anxiety. "I don't know what to do. I can't wait until lunch without my juice."

Rosalie glanced at the sticky mess inside her locker and then at Emmett, who had joined them. "That's totally not cool," he said, sympathy in his eyes. "I'll grab you something from the vending machine. What do you want?"

(Y/N) opened her mouth to protest, but before she could utter a word, Emmett had already taken off down the hallway. She looked helplessly after him, torn between gratitude and a sense of intrusion.

Rosalie placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it," she said with a warm smile. "Once Emmett's made up his mind, that's that. He's a bit overbearing at times, but he means well."

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile through her frustration. In this unexpected moment of crisis, she had found a glimmer of kindness and support. Sometimes, it took a helping hand to make a bad situation feel a little more manageable.

Just when (Y/N) thought her day couldn't get any stranger, Emmett returned with a comical surplus of juice boxes in his arms. He had not come back with just one or two; he had brought what looked like a small grocery store worth of them.

"Emmett! What are you doing?" Rosalie exclaimed, smacking him on the back of the head. She looked at the impressive stack of juice boxes with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

Emmett shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. "I didn't know how many she wanted, so I just grabbed them all."

(Y/N) stood there, stunned and grateful. She couldn't believe the lengths this stranger was going to in order to help her out. "Thank you," she managed to say, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Emmett chuckled. "No problem at all. It's better to have too many than not enough, right?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes but wore a fond smile. "You always do this, Emmett. How are you going to carry all of them?"

Emmett scratched his head, looking a bit perplexed. "I'll just carry them around until we see her again at lunch. She can take what she needs now."

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I don't even know how to thank you both enough," she said, reaching out to take a handful of juice boxes, about six of them. It was a bit heavy, but she could manage.

Emmett grinned, his good-naturedness shining through. "You're welcome. Anytime you need help, just let us know."

Rosalie gave (Y/N) a playful shove. "Girls gotta help girls, right?"

With her backpack now considerably heavier with the added juice boxes, (Y/N) felt a newfound sense of belonging. These two strangers had shown her kindness and support when she needed it most, and she couldn't help but feel that Forks High School might not be such a daunting place after all. As they walked her back to class, she couldn't help but smile, grateful for this unexpected friendship.

Lunchtime arrived, and (Y/N) entered the bustling cafeteria with her stack of juice boxes, feeling a mixture of gratitude and nervousness. She looked around, wondering where to sit when she heard a familiar voice booming across the room.

"Hey, juice girl!" Emmett called out, waving enthusiastically from a table on the other side of the cafeteria. His infectious energy drew the attention of many students, and a few curious glances followed her as she made her way toward him.

A warm smile stretched across her face as she approached Emmett's table. He had saved her from a diabetic crisis earlier in the day, and now he was offering her a seat at his table, as if she were already part of their group.

"Thanks," she said, taking a seat next to Emmett, her stack of juice boxes settling beside her. She couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging that she hadn't expected to find so quickly in this new school.

As she settled in and started unpacking her lunch, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel grateful for the kindness of her new friends. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to her, and it made Forks High School feel a little less dauntin

Emmett introduced his siblings to (Y/N) with a playful grin. "This is Rosalie, my lovely and sometimes overly responsible partner, and this," he gestured dramatically to a young man who had been quiet until now, "is Edward, our resident brooding poet."

“Partner?”

“It’s complicated,” Rosalie says but she gave (Y/N) a warm smile, and Edward nodded in acknowledgment, his expression more reserved.

Emmett couldn't resist a teasing grin as he turned to (Y/N). "And, of course, you already know me, the one who saved the day earlier—your trusty juice retriever." He emphasized the last part, a playful twinkle in his eye.

“Then there’s Alice and jasper but I’m not sure where those two are at the moment.” He added.

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at Emmett's description. "Yes, my hero," she replied, her gratitude evident in her tone.

Edward, who had been observing the interaction quietly, couldn't resist a smirk. "Emmett and his heroic acts. Quite the storyteller, he is."

Emmett chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Well, I just wanted to make sure our new friend here didn't pass out from low blood sugar."

(Y/N) felt a sense of warmth and camaraderie settling in at the table. These strangers had quickly become friends, and she was grateful for their support. With a newfound sense of belonging, she joined in the conversation, feeling more at ease in this new school than she had thought possible.

[mariespen]

hey girl!! i love your sheriff rafe x teacher reader trope!! i was wondering if you could do a blurb where reader is in trouble and rafe had to save her? nothing huge but it could be cute!

a/n: yess!! i love this!!

➸ The Note

Sheriff!Rafe x Teacher!Reader

➸ Masterlist!

Requests open!

The morning was unbearably hectic. Rafe woke up late and grumpily trudged around the house, making his cup of coffee and helping your daughter, Samantha, pack her lunch. Your two sons didn’t want to get up, whining in their beds about how there should be no-school Fridays.

“Get up. Now. Go help your mother,” Rafe said, glaring at them and pointing toward the kitchen, where you were struggling to get your papers in order.

They reluctantly stood up and got dressed, walking over to attempt to help you make lunches. However, one misstep and Lucas, your youngest son, spilled his glass of milk. Oliver slipped in it, hitting his elbow with a pained cry. You comforted him and helped Oliver up while Rafe cleaned the spill and attempted to lecture Lucas.

Everyone was late. You took Samantha with you to your class ten minutes before the bell rang, and Rafe took Oliver to the middle school and Lucas to daycare, getting to work past the expected time.

Walking into the classroom with Samantha, she took her seat at her desk, waiting for her friends to walk inside.

With a sigh, you sat at your desk, turning on your computer and setting up the lesson.

“Mama, what are we learning today?” Samantha asked, having the privilege of the question as your favorite student.

“Compound words, sweetie,” you mumbled, writing on the whiteboard before opening the classroom doors and letting in the bubbly first graders.

The day went by long and uneventful, your students either too hyper or too tired to focus on your efforts to teach. Your head hurt, and you had a weird feeling in your stomach as you left your classroom for lunch, locking the door and heading outside.

“Hi, dear. How’s your class?” your teacher best friend, Lilia, asked.

“Too much,” you groaned, sighing and slumping down into the uncomfortable chairs of the teacher’s lounge.

“I’m sorry. Tough morning?” Lilia said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder as she walked by to the fridge.

“No lunch?” she asked, frowning.

“Lucas spilled all over the kitchen… we were already late. I didn’t have time,” you admitted as your stomach growled. Lilia looked at you with pity.

“Here you go…” she said, handing you a granola bar and some apple slices.

“Thank you, Lilia. You’re my hero,” you said with a smile, taking your phone out and checking your messages.

Rafe: Got them to school on time. 10 mins late over here. Are you all good? You: All good. Thank you.

Another sigh left your lips as lunch wrapped up and you retreated back to your quiet classroom five minutes before your students would be lining up outside the door.

Reaching for your key, you leaned on the door handle of your classroom, but your arm slipped, and the door opened—already unlocked.

“What…?” You looked around your class, turning and closing the door behind you.

Returning to your desk, you found a note taped to your computer in messy kid’s handwriting.

Mrs. Cameron, watch out. I know where you live.

The note struck you with surprise—more amused and curious as to how they got in rather than concerned about the threat. You pulled out your phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to Rafe, hoping to bring him a similar reaction.

You: Attachment: 1 PictureYou: 12 in the afternoon, and I’m already getting threatened.

He started typing immediately, but his bubble stuttered before disappearing altogether. Instead, he left you on read.

A part of your heart sank, but you didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on it before you had to open your class to the tired first graders lined up outside your door.

“Hi, Mama…” Samantha groaned as she walked into the class, obviously unexcited.

“Hi, honey. Go sit, m’kay?” you said, smiling and greeting your other students.

“Okay, friends! Usually, we would do math after lunch, but I think it’s time for some quiet time,” you said, turning down the lighting and flicking on the small star projector Rafe had gifted you after mentioning you wanted the environment to feel more relaxing.

Students laid on the carpet with books, quiet toys, coloring books, and more. Their little minds got a calming refresh as you sat at your computer, preparing an easier worksheet for your class.

Suddenly, a rough knock rattled your door. With a concerned look around, you hesitantly opened it to see Rafe, in full uniform, standing in front of you with a serious expression.

“Rafe? What are you—” you started before he gently moved into the classroom, watching as your students stared at him.

“Where’s the note?” he asked gruffly.

“Rafe, it’s not a big deal…” you whispered, concerned with his serious expression.

He walked to your desk, picked up the note, and paused the calming music before standing in front of the class.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said, sticking the note to your whiteboard.

“This note? This isn’t funny. This is serious. We don’t threaten people—especially our teachers.”

His eyes scanned the classroom, pausing on his daughter before shifting to the back, where one little boy looked like the guiltiest criminal Rafe had ever seen.

“No. It’s not. If Mrs. Cameron doesn’t get a proper apology, I’ll have the school look through the cameras,” Rafe said, locking eyes with the young boy.

“Does everyone understand?” He waited for the child to nod before taking the note and walking to the door.

“Mrs. Cameron, can I talk to you briefly?” he requested, guiding you outside.

“Rafe, really?” you asked, smiling softly.

“There’s nothing happening today. Had to make sure my wife is safe,” Rafe said, kissing your cheek.

“It’s not a huge deal…” you murmured, melting into his touch.

“It’s a threat on my wife. I don’t care if a six-year-old wrote it,” he said, beginning to walk away.

With comical timing, the guilty little boy ran out of the classroom toward you.

“Cameron, you gotta get inside!” you said, kneeling down.

“M-Mrs. Cameron, m’sorry! Julius told me to!” he said, crying and hugging your legs.

Rafe turned back to you, a proud smile on his face as he walked back to his cruiser.

[libraryofloveletters]

Helping Hands

Ruben Dias x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ruben and reader have a kid! (he's 5), boy dad!ruben, most of the man city squad is in this (kalvin too even tho he's not here anymore lol), mr pep makes an appearance, birthday surprises (yes I know ruben's birthday isn't until may lol), sweetness all around, reader and the guys have a good relationship, one big family vibes.

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: is it really a big shock that this one is for @themandaloriansdiaries - I only ever write ruben when she asks lmaooo.

--

"Mama! Come on!" Chris, your son, tugged on your hand as you carried the bags.

Ruben's birthday was today and the two of you had gotten up to wish him happy birthday before he left, even making sure to make birthday pancakes - Chris's request, despite it being his father's birthday.

Your husband had gone in for training today and he wasn't aware that the two of you were coming with a special surprise for him. Once you're checked in at the front, Chris makes a beeline for the stairs, running up and straight to the office of none other than Pep.

You didn't get a chance to stop him before he opened the door, not bothering to knock as he knew he had Mr. Pep - his nickname for the man- wrapped around his finger.

"Chris!" The man smiled when he saw the little brown-haired boy running into his office. He picks him up, giving him a good squeeze before putting him down.

"Hi Mr. Pep! Do you have any candy?" The boy looks around, peeking into a bowl on the desk. "Check the drawer, kid." He retells him, walking over to hug you hello.

Chris had made himself comfortable in Pep's chair, munching on a Kit Kat while spinning around.

Pep's hand rests on your arm, smiling at you. "What brings you two in today?"

"Just setting up a few things for Ruben's birthday. Chris wanted to celebrate with him and the guys."

"Oh," Pep nods. "Do you need help? Do you want me to get some of the stuff to help you?"

"No no, that's okay. Don't disturb them, it's just hanging up a few balloons and a banner Chris made, we got it. Right buddy?"

Chris nods, giving you a thumbs up with sticky, chocolate covered fingers.

Pep laughs, walking over to wipe Chris's hands with a tissue. "Okay, let me know if you need anything."

You and Chris were off to the cafeteria, taking the long way around as you knew Ruben would be in the gym right now. Chris sits himself down by the window, looking out in the pitch as you unpack the stuff from the bags, passing the balloons to him to start blowing them up; it would keep him occupied for long enough that you could set up whatever else you needed too.

As you tried to unravel the banner Chris was making at home, you heard footsteps behind you and Chris got up, running over to whoever was over there. You turn to see John, balancing the cake in one hand and rubbing Chris's brown hair with the other hand.

"Hi uncle Johnny!" Chris smiled at the man, John smiled back at him. "Hi buddy, how are you?"

"Good! It's daddy's birthday today!"

John nods, "I know, I got the cake, see?" He bends down to show Chris the cake before taking it into the kitchen to put it in the fridge so it doesn't melt.

"Thank you for picking it up," you tell him when he comes back, Chris holding his hand and bringing him over to the table where he was sitting.

"Anytime."

"Help me blow up balloons, uncle Johnny!" Chris passes him a handful of balloons, sitting on his chair as he starts on his own.

Despite having to get to the gym, John sat with Chris and blew up all of the balloons. For every 6 balloons John blew up, Chris blew one. The boy passed the slobbered covered balloon to his uncle who happily tied it; even if he had to wipe his fingers off on his pants after each one.

Once they're done, John gets up. "I have to get to training, buddy. I'll be back at lunch time and I'll bring your dad with me, okay?"

"Okay!" Chris gave John a five high before turning his attention back to the balloons. You wave John off as you start to attempt to bundle the balloons together.

"Baby, why don't you finish up on your banner for daddy? The crayons are in the green bag over there." You nod towards the bag on the chair, Chris nods and walks over to get the crayons before sitting where you had spread out the banner.

You managed to get a few balloons bundled together before you started on the arch, your back was turned to the doorway and you hadn't heard anyone come in.

Kyle had seen Chris about to get up and signalled for him to stay sitting and to be quiet, pointing to you and motioning surprise with his hands. Chris got the just of it and nodded, his little hand covering his mouth to stop him from giggling.

The cold fingers pinch your shoulders, causing you to jump. "What the f- fudge!" You stopped mid swear, shouting before turning to see who it was. Both Kyle and Chris were giggling now, you smacked Kyle on the head with a balloon.

"You're so annoying, Kyle." Groaning, you turn your attention back to the balloon arch you were assembling. The man ignores your comment, making his way over to Chris at the table.

His arms on either side of Chris's chair as he stands behind him, his chin on the boy's head. "Whatcha working on, bud?"

"A banner for daddy! Look how cool my football is," he points towards the football he had drawn in the corner.

"That's really good, I couldn't even draw a circle." He laughed. "Who are these guys?" Kyle asks him, pointing out the few guys Chris had drawn around the ball.

"Well this one is Eddie," he points to the man by the net, wearing bright green. "This one is daddy, uncle Jack, uncle Johnny and this one is you, uncle walks." He points to the one on the left.

Kyle stifles a laugh. "Chris, why is my head so big?"

"Because mama said you have a big head." Chris shrugs, going back to working on his drawings.

The man looks over at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug just as Chris did. "It's true, now come be useful and hold this." You stuck the end of the arch out to Kyle, the man coming over to hold it as you filled in the extra balloons that needed to fit in.

He helps you get it up and over the window, along with the streamers before you thank him and climb down from the chair. When you turned around, you found more of the guys had come in as it was pretty close to lunch time.

Jack was sitting with Chris, the two of them chatting about some cartoon they both watch when Jack comes over while Kalvin helped to colour in the letters that Chris had traced.

Everything was coming together, all that needed to be done was put the banner up and get the cake out from the fridge. Erling had come in with Kevin and Kevin offered himself to get the cake as he knew Erling and Jack would probably start bickering about something as soon as he saw the taller man make a bee line for his friend.

Ederson and Stefan were the next two that came in. Erling and Stefan hung the banner up, Jack handing pieces of tape to Chris to stick on the banner. Ederson had Chris up on his shoulders so he could reach it and Rodri gave them thumbs up of approval, letting them know that the banner was hung straight.

Kevin sets the cake on the table, taking it out of the box while you search for the candles in the bag. "Oh crap, I forgot the candles at home."

"I think we have some from John and Kyle's birthday last week," Nathan tells you, walking over to the cabinet to search for them. He returns a moment later with a half pack of candles and a lighter.

Chris helps Nathan stick the candles into the cake; all 27 which is how old he was turning this year.

Everything was set, the rest of the players had come in and even pep had made his way down for the little celebration. All of you were by the window, waiting until you heard someone coming to light the candles.

The big banner above you read happy birthday daddy! in several different coloured crayons, all coloured in and out of the lines - depended on who coloured it.

You look at Chris, fixing his shirt as Ederson held him and you made sure he looked okay. You brushed away the cookie crumbs from earlier before looking around to make sure everyone was there. Jack, who was beside you, also had the same cookie crumbs on his shirt and you brushed those off too.

The sound of John's laughter came from the hallway, followed by the clicking of Bernardo's slides as he never wore them properly. That meant Ruben would be right behind them.

"What are you recording for?" You hear your husband's voice, one of his friend's had their phone out as they were coming in.

Bernardo and John push the double doors open, John stepping into the room to catch Ruben's reaction.

"Surprise!" Everyone shouts, the boys cheering, clapping and whistling for their friend.

Ruben stood there shocked, taking it all in. The handmade banner, streamers, balloons, the cake, all his teammates and most importantly, his wife and his son.

Ederson put Chris down, the little boy running to his dad who picks him up. "Do you like it?!" Chris practically shouts in his dad's ear. Ruben chuckles, nodding. "I love it, Chris. Thank you."

He gives him a hug, putting him down. "Do you like the banner? And the colours I picked?"

"You used all my favourites." He ruffles Chris's fluffy brown hair, identical to his own. Chris clapped, grinning at his father as he ran over to Jack. "Told you!" You hear Chris tell Jack, the two of them laughing.

You walk over to your husband, hugging him. "Surprise, baby."

Ruben kisses your head, "thank you, babe. You didn't have to do all this, you know."

"I know," you say. "I had some help." You nodded towards his teammates behind you.

Ruben leans down to kiss you, his hand on your jaw as he does. "Okay okay, break it up." Kevin calls for you two, "the candles are gonna melt."

You hold Ruben's hand, bringing him over to the table with the cake, Chris standing on the chair on the left to his dad and you're tucked under Ruben's arm on the right. All of his teammates on the other side of the table, John was still recording as Jack started the horribly off key rendition of happy birthday, which was being sung in at least 5 different languages at the moment.

Ruben pulls you and Chris with him, blowing out all 27 candles on the cake. "Happy birthday, babe." You kisses his cheek, Chris swiping some frosting and rubbing it on the other side of his dad's face.

[i-heart-marvel]

Polaroid films | Noah Diaz x fem!reader

(Not my GIF)

Summary: When your best friend’s mom called you and asked you the babysit Kris while she’s out at work. You didn’t expect to see Noah come back so early from his work. After a while of talking y’all decided to catch up…maybe makes some photographic memories.

Warnings: fingering, making out, voyeurism?, first time writing smut, oral (M receiving), and slight nipple play?

So I haven’t seen the movie in a while so everything is gonna be weird or not right?! This is after the whole ROTB. Also like I said in the warning it’s my first time writing smut. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————<3———————————

It was lunch time when my phone rang. I ran from my room to the living room answering the phone on the third ring.

“Hello?” Y/n wasn’t expecting a call at all from anyone. It’s been awhile since her phone rang, or was even used. “Hey Y/n, how are you sweetheart?” Mrs. Diaz asked her voice wavering.

Oh, how I missed hearing her voice. She was like a second mom to me. I haven’t seen the Diaz family or talked to them since Noah went and did a job for Reek. It’s not like I didn’t want to go see them or call them but it hurt knowing that Noah didn’t even bother putting effort into our long-time friendship. Ever since he did that job he ignored me, and didn’t even bother to come to our daily park walks. ‘Those were the most important’ he would say every time my schooling was in the way. I would drop everything and go with him without a question.

“Oh hey Mrs. Diaz! I’m good just been studying real hard for my classes. Y cómo está usted? Esta bien?” I was concerned plus confused. Normally her voice would be bright and soothing, but now it sounds rushed. “Oh estamos muy vein pequeña. But I have to ask you for a favor” Mrs. Diaz asked her voice now unsure. Mrs. Diaz knew her and Noah haven’t talked in awhile and knew it would be awkward if she came over to do this favor for her. Mrs. Diaz just ran out of options. “Yeah tell me! Que es?” Y/n asked hesitation laced in her words.

“Well I’m going to enter my shift in about an hour, and I need a babysitter for Kirs. Noah can’t make it since he’s working right now.” Y/n heard Kris in the background saying that he doesn’t need one since he’s ‘grown’. I chuckled at that, “Ay Kris you know I would never leave you by yourself. Anyways Y/n I was wondering if you can come and stay with Kris until Noah comes off his shift tonight?” I stayed quiet listening to her words. Many thoughts ran through my mind, ‘what if Noah tries to talk to me? Do I ignore him? What if he ignores me? What would he do when he got there?’. Hearing Mrs. Diaz on line saying my name brought me out of my train of thought. “Mhm… Yes I’m sorry I was just thinking um yeah sure I would love to. I haven’t seen Kris in awhile so why not?”

I honestly need a brake from my studying anyways, so babysitting Kris could be a breather. Just hope nothing awkward would happen. “Oh good I can pay you tomorrow and there’s snacks in the fridge, cabinets, and leftovers in the also in the fridge.” Mrs. Diaz rambling at this point telling me all this information. “Mr-Mrs. Diaz! You don’t have to pay you know? You guys are like family to me I can be there in like twenty or so minutes yeah? I will be there just don’t pay me.” I let out reassuring her that she doesn’t need to pay me. “Okay está vein just bring want you need pequeña. I will meet you here. Okay bye thank you!” Mrs. Diaz hung up the phone. I put the phone back on the wall, I stood there contemplating if I should do this.

I walked out of the living room going into my room getting ready. I put on some comfortable clothes and shoes. I get my book bag and started to grab some VHS tapes knowing what Kris would like. Grabbing my Polaroid camera, I put it in my bag so I can take some photos for my class. After getting everything i need I start heading out the door, but before I close the door, “shit can’t leave without this,” I quickly run back in and get my stashed chocolates. I grab some and put them in my bag. “Couldn’t leave without this,” I finally shut my door and lock it.

——————————————<3———————————

When I get there I knock at the door and wait patiently. Hearing footsteps nearing the door I anxiously start to play with my fingers. The door opens and reveals Kris.

“Hey Kris!” I said with a big smile on my face. He comes out and hugs me, “hey Y/n I missed you. Why don’t you come anymore?” Kris looked up at me releasing me. “Oh!” My voice faltering a bit, “I was just busy with my schooling Kris you know it’s very hard once you get older.” I said hands on his shoulder lightly turning him around him. “Okay let’s get on with this hangout bud!” “Yeah!” Kris yelled excitedly. We got into the house and I see Mrs. Diaz. “Hey Mrs.Diaz!” I walked up to her inviting arms and hugged tightly. “Oh hi pequeña! I missed you, but I’m in a rush” Mrs. Diaz quickly let go of the hug and kissed me on the cheek. She was rushing around the kitchen and living room, quickly gathering her things. “Like I said over the phone there’s food leftovers in the fridge and snacks…somewhere anyways I will see you guys later.” Mrs. Diaz went up to Kris and kissed her forehead, “oh mom come on not in front of Y/n” Kris whispered to his mom.

“Okay I’m leaving. Be safe you two Noah will come later okay? Okay bye love y’all” Mrs. Diaz quickly walked out and shut the door.

They stood there staring at the door. “Wow I have never seen her that quick” Kris said eyes wide, “me neither” I said my mouth opened in shock. I close my and turn to Kris, “now do you want to watch some movies” my voice raised a higher octave. I set my bag on the kitchen table getting out the VHS tapes. “We have some different options here” Kris turns around and looks my way and starts to walk up to the table. “We got Hocus-pocus, The Nightmare before Christmas.” I kept listening off the movies I brought and hand them to Kris for him to look at and pick. While he looked I got into the cabinets and start to get the popcorn out and some sugary snacks. I looked up at the clock and see that’s it one thirty. ‘Maybe after a movie I can take some photos.’

“Oh I think I would like this,” he showed me the movie The Snadlot. “Oh that’s a good one. You will love it more than you like it,” I said smiling at Kris and he smiled back. “Okay go put it in and I can get the snacks started!”

“Okay!” Kris exclaimed excitedly going to the tv and putting in. I got the popcorn out of the microwave and put it in to two separate bowls, and I grab the candy’s and bring them to the living room. “Here you go Kris,” I hand him the bowl and he thanks me. I laid the candy down on the coffee table and start to watch the movie with him.

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We finished the movie a few minutes ago so I go to get up. “How did you like the movie Kris?” I asked while getting the popcorn bowls and candy wrappers. “I liked it, it was cool!” Kris got up too and got our empty soda cans and threw them away. “Are we gonna watch other one Y/n?” Kris looked at me while I was putting washing the bowls, “yeah we can watch one later.” I looked up at the clock and see that it’s three something in the afternoon.

“Hey wanna go to the park and take some photos? It’s for my class and I think you’re the perfect super star to be in my photos” I asked him smiling leaning my back on the counter with my arms crossed in front of me. “Mhm what do I get if I do be in your photos?” Kris questioned with one eyebrow raised. I looked at him playfully going along with it, “how about free ice cream?” I said while doing jazz hands. “You got yourself a deal Y/n!” Kris smiled and took out his hand for a shake. I shake his hand and start to get my stuff, “okay then Kris go get your shoes and we can leave.” I smiled as he quickly ran for his shoes.

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After we went to the park and took some pretty good photos we got ice cream from a little shop.

We made it back at the apartment at six. I opened the door and let Kris in first, “how do you like your ice cream bud?” I asked while he walked passed me I ruffled his hair a bit. “It’s so good!” Kris exaggerated with a smile while putting a spoonful in his mouth. I chuckled at his actions, “yeah it’s very good, but don’t tell your mom I gave you ice cream before dinner.” I walked in behind him shutting the door and locking it behind me. I sat on the couch and looked at the tv that was playing on a random channel. “Hey Kris,” I look beside me to get his attention. “What?” He questioned eyes still focused on the tv, “what do you want from the leftovers? You guys have a different variety.”

“Oh I don’t care what you reheat, just don’t reheat Noah’s leftovers he said that there differently seasoned.” Kris said looking at you making quote on quote hand gestures. “Oh okay, yeah of course!” I said laughing and getting up to the kitchen and getting out the pasta. I see the container that’s says ‘Noah’s leftover’ I chuckled seeing the burnt food. “Okay well I’m reheating pasta” I said while taking two plates and putting pasta on them.

After heating them up I told Kris that it was ready. “Coming” he said while walking to his seat, “thank you Y/n.” Kris smiled at and I smiled back, “oh you’re welcome Kris.” When I was about to put the delicious food in my mouth I hear the door unlock. “Kris I’m home!” The voice yelled out. It was Noah. ‘Shit’ I yelled in my mind. “Oh hey Noah. Y/n’s here mom asked her to babysit me.” Kris said with a big smile looking at his big brother waking through the miniature hallway. I keep my head down avoiding to look at Noah playing with my food. “Oh.” Noah let out looking at the back of my head, “hey Y/n” he let out awkwardly. Noah walked into the kitchen looking at you before opening the fridge and getting a drink. “Hey Noah” I said keeping my head down, too scared to look at him.

Kris was confused his smile faltering a bit. “Why did it get so quiet all of sudden?” Kris asked innocently looking back and fourth between the two of you. I looked at Noah who is leaning on the counter with a soda can in his hand looking at me. “Nothing wrong Kris everything’s fine. Tell Noah what we did today,” I put on a fake smile and turned around to look at him hoping he can’t see through me.

“Oh well.…” Kris began to tell Noah what we did today. I toned him out and played with my food, occasionally I would look up at Noah who has moved to the table sitting right in front of me. We would make eye contact but would break it quickly as it came. After Kris was done he wanted me to show Noah some off the photos I took of him at the park. “They look good, I myself look good Noah” Kris said smiling while looking at Noah. Noah looked at you and began to show a little smile, “can I see them?” He questioned his voice was gentle and soft approaching. I looked up at him and sat there, “um yeah, uh let me get them.” I said dazed a little bit, nodding my head I get up and go to the living room the retrieve my film book.

I get it out and walk back to the table. Noah and Kris were talking about what Noah did today but stop when I got close. “Look they’re going to look so good. You’re pretty good at this Y/N!” Kris smiled excitedly and looked at me, “oh thank you Kris, you look handsome in these!” I said looking back him smiling while sitting down at my seat. I hand Noah my book gently I made eye contact with him and smiled a bit, he smiled back. “Thanks Y/n/n” Noah smiled grabbing my book and opening it.

“I was g-glad there wasn’t such a big crowd today since usually where I go to take those photos I can’t even get a shot.” I was surprised I said a word to Noah. I smiled and look at Kris, “maybe your my lucky charm bud. You should always come with me.” I said while chuckling and ruffling his hair. Kris smiles at me and playfully slaps my hand. “Maybe I should, I can get more ice cream.” He said playfully, “I would give you all the ice cream you would want for helping me out” I said while turning back to Noah who is still looking at them.

“Do you like them?” I questioned softly playing with my fingers, nervous for his response. Kris got up to look at the pictures with him “They look great Y/n” Noah said looking up at you smiling brightly, “you made Kris look pretty good!” I sighed, relieved he didn’t say anything bad. “Why don’t you take photos of yourself Y/n?” Kris asked looking up at you while also Noah does too. “Yeah why don’t you take photos of yourself Y/n/n?” Noah asked too with a teasing smile. I blushed, “I don’t think I would look good in films, and I’m too busy to take photos of myself.” I looked at Noah who is still smiling at me, I smiled back. “How about I take a photo of you?” Noah questioned already getting up and walking to my bag.

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that Noah!” I quickly exclaimed getting up from where I sat. “Wait let him Y/n you barley have any of yourself!” Kris said walking up and facing me, “you look good!” He gleefully said. I see Noah at my bag getting my camera, so I walked up close to him “you remembered how to take one yeah?” I questioned softly, not wanting him to do something accidentally wrong. “Yes I remember Y/n/n” Noah said turning around a getting my camera ready. “Okay now get ready!” He smiled at me, I turn around and look at Kris. I make a come here motion but he shakes his head with a smile and runs to his brother.

“Come on Noah you know I can’t do it myself it’s awkward,” I tried to get out of the situation. “Nope come on Y/n pose!” Noah said smiling and closing one eye, I let out a smile and put my hands behind my back. The flash goes off and blinds me for a bit I hear the Polaroid making my film.

Noah walked up to me with the film in hand shaking a bit so the process is faster. When he showed me I saw my form and my smile. “See you look so great Y/n/n” Noah said softly slightly moving his head down so I can hear him. “Thank you Noah.” I said just as softly looking up at him, I see that his cheeks are covered in red dust so were mine. We made eye contact for a few more seconds before we heard Kris’s footsteps, “see you do look good Y/n. No wonder why Noah said you were made to be in front of the camera.” Kris said smiling down at the picture than at me. “I’m going to put it in your book!” Kris ran off with the photo to the kitchen.

I go to sit on the couch, “you said that about me?” I questioned Noah softly. I sit on the far right of the couch with Noah sitting beside me, but he left us some space. “Yeah every time my ma would bring you and your camera skills up I said you should be in front of it instead.” He said blushing while looking at me. When I see his freckled face I can’t help but remember what he did, they way he ignored me for days. Didn’t call, visit me, or even come to our hangouts. I decided now it’s the time to ask him. “Noah what happened? Why did you ignore me? For like several days!” I examined softly so Kris doesn’t hear.

Noah was taken aback. He was surprised I even brought this up. Noah looked at me with sad eyes, “look Y/n/n-“ he was cut off by Kris yelling out, “Hey can we watch another movie Y/n?” Kris was smiling walking up to you two with more of my VHS tapes. Noah was thankful for Kris Interrupting him, he wouldn’t know how to explain to you that he works for a secret organization that’s nobody knows about.

I looked at him with a look that said ‘this isn’t over’. “Yeah sure bud pick whatever you want!” I got up and went to the tv to change the setup.

——————————————<3———————————

After watching the movie Kris had fallen asleep on my shoulder. Noah sat on the opposite side of Kris, his arm laid flat behind Kris’s head his hand almost touching my shoulder.

“Noah,” I said quietly facing him not trying move so much as not wake up Kris. “Can you carry Kris to his room please?” Noah looked at me and nodded, while he was carrying Kris away I was thinking of what happened earlier. I pulled the blanket up to my chest, the one Noah got me. ‘Does he do anything bad? Is he even my best friend anymore? What does he even do for work that he managed to ignore me so much?’

A door shutting brought me out of my thoughts. I see Noah walking into the living room, he looks up at me and sits on the couch. “Look Y/n/n earlier I wanted to say that-“ he stops and takes a deep breath. I turn my whole body to look at him, my knees almost touching his thighs. Noah didn’t know what to say. How can he explain in words what he works for, and that no one has even heard of. “Y/n/n I really can’t explain. If I could I would tell you I would, but I am really, really sorry that I had ignored you for several days. My job is just really complicated I’m dealing with all this shit that probably wouldn’t even make sense to you-“ Noah rambled on talking fast, but I heard every word. “What do you mean your work is fucking complicated? To complicated to call for a minute and say ‘oh hey Y/n how are you? I’m doing fine myself! Wanna go have our daily walks and talk about life.’ You can’t even tell me that you’re safe and fine ugh!”

I jumped up from the couch and let out a groan. “I’m still mad at you Noah. You had me thinking that our friendship didn’t even mean anything to you. I don’t even know if it still means anything!” I said shouting quietly at him as to not wake up Kris. Noah looked up at me and got up and put his hands on my arms. “Our friendship means everything to me Y/n! I didn’t call you because I needed you to be safe!” Noah exclaimed his left hand going to the my cheek, his thumb going back and fourth.

“If I told you what I do you would want to help but I love you too much to lose you to some evil aliens!” I felt his breathe hitting my face. He was breathing hard, I looked into his eyes to see them glossed over by tears. My eyes soften at the sight, “What are you talking about Noah?” I grab his hand that’s on my cheek, gripping it. “Evils aliens? Are you insane?” I drop his hand and back up a little bit not believing one word. “There’s no such thing as aliens Noah. Gosh you do you really think I’m that dumb?” I scoffed and started to walk to the kitchen.

“See this is why I didn’t want to have this conversation cause you wouldn’t believe me Y/n! But trust me please!” Noah begged walking behind me and grabbing my arm making me turn around. “Trust me when I say this I love you! I have always been in love with you Y/n!” Noah said smiling sadly a tear running down his face. He was looking at me with such desperation, he hesitates his next words “befo-before I went to do the job for Reek I wanted to ask you out but I was scared of what you would say, and when I found out a dude from space was going to end the whole world I decided to not tell anyone not even you. I was terrified of what would happen to you.”

Noah brought both his hands and put them back on my cheeks. I started to tear up from his confession. He wiped the fat tears away from my face. “You’re telling the truth?” I whispered still unsure but beginning to trust his every word. He nodded licking his lips still making eye contact with me. “Oh Noah,” I sobbed out hugging him my arms wrapping around his waist. He lets out a breath and hugs you back wrapping his arms around your shoulder tucking his head into your shoulder. “Noah I love you too but you can’t ever do this again. This time you have to me everything please.” Taking my head off his chest I looked up at him, “promise me Noah, promise that we will tell each other everything even if it’s bad or good.”

I said bringing my hand on his cheek. “I promise.” He whispered back his eyes still glossy, I smiled up at him. “Y/n-“ Noah whispered liking the feeling of your warm palm on his cheek, “yes?” “Can I kiss you?” He asked wrapping a his hand around the back of my neck. My eyes widened a little I meekly nodded. He leans in slowly noses touching, I feel his breath on my lips.

Then I feel his lips connecting to mine,kissing me gently, I kiss back. I never imagined kissing my best friend but here we are. The kiss was soft and slow and it feels just like out of a fairytale. I feel his mustache rub on the top of my lip. Our lips fitting like a perfect puzzle piece, but we sadly both pull away for air. I whined at losing contact. Our foreheads connect both of us out of breath. Noah opens his eyes and sees Y/n still has her eyes closed but with a pleasured smile. “You like that Y/n/n?” Noah said teasingly his thumb rubbing the back of my neck soothing me, and I feel his other hand on my hip steadying me.

I opened my eyes again to see Noah looking at me smiling. I pull back a little, “that was…wow.” I chuckled looking at his plumped lips, “can we kiss again?” I sheepishly asked smiling, he nodded and connected his lips with mine once more. The kiss was harder now with more passion.

Noah licks Y/n’s bottom lip asking her to slip in his tongue, so Y/n opens her mouth a little wider and Noah does just that exploring her mouth. Y/n moans at the feeling, loving every second of this. With their lips still connected they move to the couch. Noah sits down first and puts Y/n on his lap, both of her thighs warp around his hips tightly. His hands go to her legs rubbing them up to her thigh. When he gets to her ass he kneads it. “mmm” I moaned out running my hands through his curls. He pulls away kissing my check and heading down to my neck. “You smell good Y/n,” I felt his nose on my pulse point his teeth nibbling at my neck he starts to suck my neck. I throw my head back letting out a moan my hand tugging his curls. “You even taste well,” he swipes his tongue at new forming bruise. Noah let’s out strained breaths every time I tug his hair.

I feel his hands going under my shirt caressing my lower back. His calloused hands give me goosebumps all over my body. He keeps on making deep colored buries all around my neck, “N-mm” he got to my sweet spot, and I couldn’t help but moan loudly. I quickly bring my hand up to my mouth hoping Kris doesn’t hear any of this. He finally pulls away and looks up at me with hooded eyes. “Was I that good?” He chuckled with smile, “y-yeah that was n-nice,” I couldn’t even talk without stuttering. My breathing was hard at this point I was almost breathless, “you look so good like this Y/n/n wish I can take a picture,” he said bring one on his fingers and dragging it around my neck.

I closed my eyes trying to calm down at the sweet new feeling. “Oh I got an idea Y/n,” he said gently shifting me off his lap I get off and sat on the couch opening my eyes back up, “what are you doing Noah?” I see him going through my bag looking for something he takes out my Polaroid camera, “I want to take a picture of your beautiful self! I wanna remember this,” he states coming back to the couch and pulling me back into his lap. I move around in his lap when I do that he lets out a breathless moan. I feel his groin through his pants touching my core, “s-shit Y/n don’t move as much,” he said bring his hand to my hip tightly gripping it.

I blush at the sound he made, “sorry. Noah how are you gonna take the picture,” I looked at him seeing that he smiling at me his thumb going back and fourth. “Well I was thinking-” he went back to kissing my neck this time he kisses each mark, “I hold the camera close while my mouth is on your neck and you just sit there all pretty enjoying every second of it. You’re the new star for the camera.” I looked at him surprised, “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He started to put the camera down but I stop him, “I would like to,” I said blushing and smiling. He smiles back at me and starts to go back to kissing my neck.

I closed my eyes pleased with all this. His left hand is still on my hip this time making its way to my ass, his other hand holding on to the camera. He raises it up getting ready, but once his lips met my sweet spot again I throw my head back making a o shaped with my mouth. I hear the camera take the shot. Noah pulls away but not without taking one last kiss. I opened my eyes and looked down at him smiling, “does it look good?” I see him shaking the film. He smiles looking down at the processed photo, “yeah it looks very good. You look hot,” Noah looked up at me smirking I blushed again and I grabbed the film.

In the photo I see that my hand is holding on to his curls tightly, my head is pulled back, my mouth opened, half of my face is shown. I can see Noah’s teeth nibbling, and my neck is covered with marks. I smiled at the photo, “I do look hot!” I said chuckling. “Yeah you do,” Noah said grabbing my chin and placing his lips back on mine and we were full on making out. I hear the camera take another film but ignored it and kept going. I guess he ignored it to cause then I feel both of his on my ass.

His fingertips start to mess with the waistband of my pants. “Y/n-” he said bring his right hand to the front, “can I touch you?” He whispers looking down at his hand. I nodded looking at him raising my hand on his cheek I start to lightly kiss it making my way down to his neck. While doing that I feel him rubbing me through my pants, my arousal already seeping through. “mmm f-fuck Noah,” I moaned against his neck I lightly nibble on his tanned skin, “damn Y/n you’re so wet. All this for me?” He said breathless looking at the way his hand is working. I hummed too fucked to form a word.

His fingers start to rub harder putting more pressure. I start to feel the coil tighten in my lower belly, “f-fuck Noah I thi-think I gonna cum” I stammered out pulling my head away. I start to grind into his hand wanting him to go faster, but all of sudden he pulls away I whined missing his fingers. “Oh come on Noah I was about to cum!” I examined looking at him, “oh I know Y/n/n don’t worry. I want to really feel you this time hmm. I wanna feel those walls.” He whispered in my ear kissing under it.

I take in a shuddering breath, “oh Noah. Shit just do it already,” I said whispering desperately. When he hears those last five words his pupils dilate, his eyes full with lust, “oh I will.” He quickly makes us lay down on the couch, he turns me around with my back to his chest my head laying down on his shoulder. I yelped at the sudden move, “I just want you to see how good I fuck you with only my fingers.” He said smirking at me, our eyes meeting and my mouth opened with shock. His hands go under my shirt and starts caressing my stomach. They go up until they meet my breast, he quickly takes the end of my shirt and raises it up to my neck, “mmm they look so good Y/n/n!” Noah groans out kneading both my breast I let out a breathless moan.

I quickly work to take my bra off, but Noah stops me and does it himself. When he’s done he throws it down to the floor and goes back to fondle my breast. I throw my head back to his shoulder closing my eyes, “Y/n I need you to keep those pretty eyes open for me. I want you to see all of this.” He grabs my chin making me open eyes again forcing me to look at his hands. Noah grabs my nipples and starts to rub them, “oh~” I let out closing my eyes but opening just as quickly as I closed them. He let’s go one nipple and brings two fingers up to my mouth, “suck” he simply said.

I opened my mouth letting my tongue stick out, he quickly puts it in my mouth. Closing my mouth around it I start suck on it. He shakily inhales, loving the feeling of your mouth sucking his fingers. Slightly moving my head back and fourth, I swirl my tongue around it, I taste my arousal from earlier. I moaned at the taste Noah pulls them out and goes to my core, I help him pull down my pants and panties. While his other hand is still playing with my nipple, he starts to rub his sucked fingers on my folds rubbing it in circles.

Throwing my head back I moaned trying to keep my eyes opened but it was too good. Noah quickly notices and grabs my chin gently making me bring my head off his shoulder, “look Y/n, or I won’t make you cum.” He whispers into my ear threateningly I nodded my head now focusing my eyes on his slicked fingers. His fingers starts to go down my slit and makes it at the entrance of my aching hole. He teasingly starts to rub it, “please Noah” I whined turning my head a little to look into his eyes, “please what Y/n/n? What do you want?,” he asked slowing his movements.

“P-please I want your fingers inside of me, pumping me until I cum. Please Noah,” I whined gripping his wrist wanting him to do it already. All of sudden he enters without warning making me let out a big gasp. “Ohh~ fuck so tight!” He exclaimed turning his head and kissing behind my ear, his fingers pumping in and out gradually getting faster. I see my slick leaking out me, I hear it squelching every time he meets my folds. He brings his other hand and starts to rub my clit. “Oh f-f-” I moaned not finishing my sentence, his fingers reach the spongy spot that I love so much, “oh ye-yes right there Noah,” I grabbed his wrist making him go faster. I drop my left leg off the couch spreading my legs wider.

You can hear the way he’s pumping so good, the wet noises sounding like heaven to him. I feel his hard breathing hitting my ear, I feel his hard clothe member on my lower back. “Sh-shit I’m gonna cum Noah,” I moaned out quietly looking at the way his hands are working. I bring my left hand and start to knead my breast. Noah feels her walls beginning to tighten, “cum for Y/n/n,” he kisses my cheek and a few more pumps I let go of the coil. I start to come off his fingers, and I turn my head and kiss him to try and cover my loud moans. He pumps a few more times letting me ride my high. I break away and throw my head back breathing heavily, but when I broke away I hear him get my camera from where he left it last.

“Oh that was amazing Y/n/n. You did so good for me,” he said praising me kissing my cheek, “oh look at this beautiful cunt. Wanna take a picture?” He asked me smiling and shaking the camera a bit. I smiled back and agreed, “yeah sure Noah,” his two fingers were still in my hole so he hands me the camera. I try not to move as much since I’m still overstimulated. I bring the camera up to my face and look into the little window, and I saw Noah’s left hand sprawled across stomach his other hand at my core. I feel him move his fingers out a little to show how slicked they’re I whined a bit at the feeling. I take the picture and a flash goes off, I hear the film being processed. When it’s done I take it and look at it admiring it.

Noah fully gets his fingers out and brings them up to his mouth and sucks them dry. “Mmm- told you tasted so good!” Noah moans loving the taste of my sweet slick his eyes rolling to the back of his head, I flushed red at his comment and bury my head into his neck. “Ohh~ don’t get shy on me now Y/n/n!” Noah chuckles bringing his hand onto my head petting my hair, “how can I not?” I asked laughing. He chuckles and shifts a bit.

I still feel his rock hard on my lower back, “Noah?” He looked at me and hummed, “can I return the favor?” I asked looking at him he meekly nods red dusting his cheeks. I sit up and turn around my pants now at my ankles, so I take them fully off. I grab Noah’s hands and make him sit up and turn him so now his back is on the back of couch and his legs are now man spreading. I got on my knees in front of him, “you ready?” I asked smirking putting my hands on his upper thighs, “yes.” He said breathlessly.

I tug his pants and boxers down he raises his hips to help me out. When I fully pull them down his member springs up slapping his stomach pre-cum leaking from his tip. I gently grab it I bring my thumb up to his tip spreading the pre-cum. He lets out a moan and grips the sofa tightly. Bringing my face up I look into Noah’s eyes looking at him through my eyelashes. I kiss the tip going down all the way to his base, and when I get to base I lick my way back up. I feel Noah’s thighs tense up, I opened my mouth and suck on the tip.

Swirling my tongue I go deeper, sucking him with hollow cheeks going up and down. Noah groans and grabs my hair making it into a makeshift ponytail.

I feel every vein in my mouth, and my tongue licking every one. I moaned at the feeling loving him being in my mouth. Noah let’s out a groan, I looked up at him and see that he has his head back and eyes closed his hand still grips my hair tightly. I start to speed up a little closing my eyes, I bring my right hand up and pump what I can’t fit in my mouth. My left hand goes to his balls kneading them. “F-fuck Y-Y/n. Doing s-so good,” Noah stutters out looking at me he brings his left hand and caress my cheek, I opened my eyes again and looked at him his eyelids half closed and dazed. I see him move his hand away from my face and grab the camera that I put down on the couch. I love where he’s going with this.

This time I put him deeper in my mouth, deep throating him, I gagged a little. My salvia is drooling out of my mouth, “Y-mmm~shit~” Noah said pulling my hair making me go up and down. Tears are now pooling in my eyes, “mmm~” I moaned out, I keep on looking at him and see he gets my camera ready so I look straight at it. I bring my lips back up to his tip sucking on it and my right hand working the rest. The flash goes off blinding me making me close my eyes and going back to make him come. “You look so~” Noah groaned out not being able to finish his sentence, “fuck I’m close!” I start to pump him faster. I feel him twitch in my mouth and shoot his load. Noah groaned and tighten his hold on my hair.

I lay my left hand on his abs caressing them. I swallow his load, some of it leaking from the corners of my mouth, I wiped it away. I pull away letting him catch his breathe, I lay my head down on his stomach relaxing my mouth. ““Was I good?” I asked wrapping arms around him”yeah, yeah you were,” he said petting my hair he grabs the film and looks at it. He sees me sucking on his tip, my pupils dilated looking straight at the camera, my right hand on his shaft, my left hand laying in his thigh, and my hair being messy. “You looked so pretty sucking me,” Noah said showing me the film, I blushed while taking it.

“What are you going to do with them, the films I mean?” I asked laying my chin on his stomach looking at him, “well I was going to put it in my own book. For just me and you.” He proclaims, “here wanna take this to my room?” Noah smirks, playfully raising his brows and gently grabbing my arm making me stand up from my position. “How many did we take Noah?” I start to pick up my pants and start to clean up quickly not wanting to be caught by Mrs.Diaz, ‘that would be embarrassing’ I thought.

“We took a few good ones Y/n/n.” He said wrapping his arms around me from behind swaying us a bit. “Mmm okay pretty boy, I’m not waiting on you so let’s go,” I said unwrapping myself from his warm embrace. I tug at his hand eagerly, he quickly gathers the rest of his things and follows me into his room. I pull him in and quickly shut the door, i hear him drop his things and pushes me up against the door, “ready for the real round?” He said teasingly tugging at my shirt wanting me to take it off. I chuckled and kissed him on the lips, “oh I’m so am!” I said pushing him to his bed. We both laughed and enjoyed the rest of our night.

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The next morning Noah’s mom woke up early to make the kids breakfast. She was walking into the living room noticing there’s still popcorn kernels and junk so she decides to clean it up. Once’s she got to the couch she sighed,”oh these kids leaving their messes and not cleaning it…up,” she stopped and saw a film. She picks it up and sees the most vile thing. She gasp and yells madly,”Noah!!” The whole house gotten woken up by her scream.

Noah wakes up and thinks shit.

Let’s just say Y/n and Noah were shamelessly embarrassed and forced to clean the whole house while Kris and Mrs.Diaz went out for breakfast.

——————————————<3———————————yeah so that was my attempt to write smut I really hope who ever is reading this likes it. If it disappoints you I am so sorry 💀😭 I was really going to continue this when they got to his room but my phone is legit not handling anything so well. So yeah tell me y’all think and if I should write anything else! 🤭