#i like this trash bag jacket alright

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[luveline]

I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.

maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out

ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty 

cw criminal minds typical gun violence

Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning. 

The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly. 

In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt. 

You'd like to keep it that way. 

It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour. 

Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again. 

It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return. 

You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage. 

It's deep but small. A nick. 

The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means… 

You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid. 

He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor. 

"You were sleeping? I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream." 

He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?" 

"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?" 

"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence." 

"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay." 

You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?" 

—

"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?" 

"You want to tell me, right?" 

"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope." 

"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again. 

"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."

Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?" 

"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside." 

"What were you doing up?" 

"That's my business," Morgan says. 

Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers. 

Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops. 

Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby. 

"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?" 

"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?" 

Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading. 

"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night." 

She gawps. 

Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never…  and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–" 

You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?" 

"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down." 

"Yes sir." 

Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly. 

Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…" 

"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh. 

"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me." 

"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now." 

Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away. 

"I don't deserve him," you say softly. 

Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something. 

[mokulule]

Take Out for Dummies - Part 3

Aka Danny has been hired to take out Red Hood, there may or may not have been a misunderstanding.

First | Masterpost

Jason had carefully checked their surrounding for cameras, but they ended up doing as Danny had suggested, sitting back to back each with their own collection of various meats and vegetables on sticks.

Danny groaned and leaned his weight back against Jason. “What is it about food on a stick that makes it so delicious?”

Jason chuckled, “I don’t know.”

It was simple fare, charred just the right amount from the grill and spicy in a way that warmed.

There was a moment of silence.

“You have a very nice voice, you know? Like I get the voice modulation is meant to be scary and all and it makes sense. Just… you have a nice voice.”Jason swallowed. He wasn’t sure why his throat felt so tight all of a sudden.

“Thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say.

They finished eating and Danny jumped up with renewed restless energy, still turned away from Jason.

“Tell me when you’re decent.”

Jason snorted as he pulled the helmet back on and it came online. “I’ll show you indecent.”

Danny squeaked. Jason turned around to find him hiding his face in his hands in embarrassment. At least Jason wasn’t the only one with the dirty thoughts.

“Alright-“ Jason peeled one of Danny’s hands away to hold it, “show the way. Are we breaking in?”

“Uh-“ Danny looked from Jason to the hand, his cheeks were dusted a very becoming pink - turnabout really was fair play. Finally he seemed to come back online as he shook his head.

“No, I have a key.”

Jason grabbed the trash bag in his other hand as Danny was still carting around his unicorn.

“Why do you have a key to the ice rink?”

“I do maintenance here sometimes, so I asked to borrow the rink for tonight.”

“Are there anyone in Gotham you don’t know at this point?”

“I’m sure there are plenty still,” Danny answered the rhetorical question as he opened the roof access door. Why that was the door he had a key to was another question entirely. Though they may of course just all use the same key.

They went down a stairwell and out into the cold hall with the frozen rink as centerpiece. Jason eyed Danny’s thin button down shirt, if he’d planned this why hadn’t he brought a jacket?

“There’s skates over there,” Danny pointed to the skate renting counter on the left side of the room. “will you grab me a pair of size seven skates, while I turn on some music and lights?”

Jason did as asked jumping the counter. There was a convenient trash can behind the counter where he could dump the bag.

When he returned to the main hall with skates in hand his eyes widened. When Danny had said turn on the lights he hadn’t expected them to be from those multicolored disco balls, nor for the music to put them back to the 70’s with an upbeat disco track.

“What do you think?” Danny yelled from where he ducked out from an operator room.

“It’s something alright,” Jason yelled back as he sat down on one of the benches and started pulling his boots off. He snorted as he realized something: if this was still an elaborate hit, Danny would be the type to love the double pun of taking out Red Hood by putting him on ice.

Jason didn’t actually think this was a hit. Hadn’t thought so in quite a while. He’d let his guard down.

Danny walked over with that small smile on his face that made Jason wonder if this was just his base state; just happy, enjoying himself, doing his little odd jobs, helping kids out for pebbles because he could, taking Red Hood out on a date.

Jason still didn’t know what to think about that. Like even if he genuinely thought whoever asked him to take out Red Hood meant on a date, there was still that logic break where Danny had decided, yeah sure sounds like a fun time, let’s just corner the former crime lord current vigilante on a rooftop in the middle of the night to ask his date preferences.

Danny was definitely not normal in any sense of the word, but Jason found that he couldn’t help but like that. Some good kind of crazy in this city for once.

“Never been to a skating disco before?” Danny asked when he within easy speaking range.

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Well not that there’s really any expectations here since it’s just the two of us, so we can do whatever.” Danny grinned, sat down next Jason and pulled his shoes off. He was in his skates and jumping to his feet in no time at all. He wobbled, and windmilled his arms so as not to fall and Jason had to grab him and steady him.

“Are you sure you have tried this before?”

“I’ll have you know I’m a great skater.” Danny sniffed, brushing Jason off, as he started awkwardly walking towards the rink in his skates.

“Just not at walking in them.”

Danny sent him a bewildered look. “Nobody is good at walking in skates.”

Jason rolled his eyes and tightened and tied off the last lace. He didn’t jump up carelessly like Danny, instead he rose and took careful steps. While it was indeed neither comfortable or normal to walk on the bladed edge of the skates, he did make it seem a great deal more natural than Danny had.

Danny stuck out his tongue at him for that and Jason couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Join me on the ice and we’ll see who’s laughing.” With that he stepped onto the ice in a languid, confident glide, that immediately made it clear, that Danny did indeed know how to skate.

But Jason was no slouch either. He could skate even if it’s been a while and he never said no to a challenge. It took a moment for Jason to get used to the ice below his feet, but he quickly gained both speed and confidence.

Danny caught his eyes then with a wink, turned, and built up speed in a few quick glides and then he was jumping off the ice, spinning in the air and at what seemed like last moment he landed on just one leg, the other leg stretched out behind him as he leaned forward in something almost like a bow.

Okay so it turns out Danny couldn’t just skate he could skate. As in he could do not just spins but flips - Jason could do flips fine on the ground; he was not quite Dick enough to try it on ice. Of course Danny was also being a little shit about it.

There was something about that smile he was sporting that made Jason just want to reach out and grab him - and do what? He wasn’t sure. But there was an invite to try and catch him in the way he glided around Jason, responding to Jason’s movements by darting away like a fish only to come back, but never close enough to reach.

Jason smiled. Okay, he would bite.

When next Danny passed, he lunged. Danny shot forward with a delighted laugh. Jason wasn’t far behind him, but Danny’s turns were needle point sharp as he lead Jason on a merry chase across the ice. He was slippery as a fucking eel, the way he kept himself just shy of Jason’s fingertips every time he reached for him.

He was doing it on purpose too, Jason realized. He was letting Jason get close only to twist and turn and escape with a laugh and leave Jason to regain the balance he lost by lunging. Jason didn’t immediately pick up the chase this time.

“What’s the matter Hood? Can’t keep up?”Jason huffed. No, he couldn’t. That much was clear at this point. But that didn’t mean the game was over. It only meant Jason had to work smarter not harder. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and started on a leisured circuit of the rink.

“Did you skate a lot as a kid?”

Danny came into Jason’s field of view, skating backwards effortlessly. There was a slight pout on his face at the interrupted game, but he answered Jason’s question, “Not really.”

“Huh, how did you learn to skate then?” Jason asked surprised.

That wiped away Danny’s pout and Jason felt a twinge of anticipation for what surely boded another fun story, but nothing could have prepared him for what actually came out of Danny’s mouth.

“I was taught by a yeti named Frostbite, he’s like my mentor in everything ice.”

“A yeti?” Jason spluttered.

Danny grinned in a way that showed he knew exactly how outrageous it sounded, but still kept his voice perfectly even when he said, “yes, it’s their national sport.”

Jason laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Uh huh, and where did you meet this yeti?”

“A place called the Far Frozen, not many people have heard of it. They tend to be rather reclusive.”

Danny didn’t falter one moment in his explanation. He either had a selection of stories he told or he was extremely good at improvising. He was also suddenly within reach, guard down as he thought Red Hood had given up on the game.

Jason lunged. Danny’s eyes widened comically as he realized his mistake and tried to backpedal, but it was too late. Jason had him wrapped in his arms. They both went down overbalanced from Danny’s struggle. Jason twisted them so he took the brunt of the fall. Danny didn’t deserve to be caught beneath 225 pounds of vigilante even if he’d been asking for it.

They laid there on the ice catching their breaths.

“Bastard, you caught me.” Danny finally spoke giggling like he couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have-“ Jason stopped, finally noticing how cold Danny was. “You’re freezing!”

“No really it’s fine-“ Danny protested as Jason pulled him back up, but Jason wouldn’t have it.

“Who forgets to wear a jacket when going skating,” Jason grumbled pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around Danny shoulders. It looked comically large hanging off Danny’s small frame, but Jason only gave himself a small moment to appreciate it before drawing Danny close again.

It took a moment but then Danny relaxed into the hold.

“How’s this? Better?” Jason asked after a while.

Danny looked up his eyes wide and blue and maybe a little overwhelmed. “Y-yeah.”

Jason frowned looking around to locate the bench where their shoes were. “We should probably get out of this cold.”

“No,” Danny said immediately pressing close, then flinched, before saying quietly, “can we just stay like this for a bit?”

Jason blinked in confusion. It didn’t make sense to stay in the cold, but he found himself agreeing quietly.

The music at this point had turned to quieter songs. Jason was starting to feel the cold himself by staying still, and he started to sway to the music, moving just a little across the ice. Danny looked up. He wiggled around and it took only a moment for him to actually find the sleeves and push his arms through. Jason let go to let him and soon found his hands captured in still cold but no longer freezing hands.

“Dance with me?” Danny asked.

Jason couldn’t say no to that, but “I’ve never danced on ice before.”

Danny grinned and glided back in close, getting them positioned for a waltz. “It doesn’t have to be right, but you lead and I’ll follow and make sure we don’t fall on our asses.”

Jason scoffed as he lead them into a glide that had Danny moving along mostly backwards on the ice.

“You don’t trust me to follow.”

“No,” Danny grinned, “But I do trust you to catch me.”

Jason rolled his eyes fondly behind the helmet. Then dipped Danny suddenly to make him prove it. There wasn’t a hint of struggle, he stayed relaxed in his hold as if they’d danced together like this a million times. Jason didn’t know what to do with that, and pulled him back up.

Jason didn’t know how long they danced. Danny had started talking quietly after a while admitting he hadn’t gone on a date since he went to high school, and got Jason to admit he liked reading. but he did know his feet were starting to hurt. Still he was reluctant for it to be over.

It was only when Danny failed in hiding a yawn they left the rink.

-

Jason rolled the bike to a smooth stop putting one foot down to keep balance. He let go of the handlebars and straightened up to allow Danny to get off.

However instead of getting off Danny took off the helmet, hung it on a handlebar and twisted around bringing his legs up until he faced Jason and could wrap them lightly around Jason’s waist. Jason’s mind went blank at the way it brought them closer, the only thing keeping the position somewhat decent for the public was the unicorn now squished between them. If Jason now wished he’d never won the thing, that was a secret he was taking to his second grave.

“So,” Danny said conversationally, wrapping his arms loosely around Jason’s neck, leaning his forearms on his shoulders almost thoughtfully, “I had fun.” He smiled. “I hope you also had fun, that was the whole purpose after all.”

He paused - maybe waiting for a response, but Jason didn’t even know what to say. He certainly wasn’t going to admit he had fun. That was- Red Hood wouldn’t do that. He’d already behaved way too much like himself tonight.

There was a momentary frown on Danny’s face before it smoothed out replaced by a soft smile, that Jason had no idea what to do with. “This is the point where a successful date is usually rewarded with a kiss - you can say no?”

Jason stiffened.

Surely he wasn’t going to?!

Danny leaned in, his smile turned wicked for a moment as his hands splayed out on either side of the helmet. Jason needed to stop him, but instead his traitorous hands landed on Danny’s waist.

He needed to push him away; he didn’t.

Danny’s hands tightened on the helmet, pulling-

Except he didn’t pull the helmet off, he just pulled Jason closer and tilted his head backwards and then pressed his lips to the helmet, right were his mouth would have been. It was chaste, but not just a quick peck. No, it was a slow and languid press in a way that made Jason all too aware that there was little more than an inch between their lips, but it might as well have been miles for the barrier between them. Slow in a way that made Jason’s breath catch in his throat and his treacherous brain wish Danny had removed the fucking helmet.

Danny drew back, his blue eyes practically sparkling in mischief and he lightly bonked his forehead against the helmet before twisting around again and jumping off, Jason letting him reluctantly.

“See you around, Hood.” Danny waved once before he started walking down the road, unicorn plushie under one arm, utterly unafraid to walk the most crime ridden streets of Gotham in the early hours of the morning. Presumably he was going home to his mystery residence.

Jason should follow him. It was the perfect time to find out more about the mystery that was Odd-Job Danny. It was why he’d agreed to the date in the first place. Right?

Instead his brain was going around in circles, wondering if he had pulled up his helmet when Danny first mentioned the kiss, not pulled it off of course, just up to his nose or so, would Danny have gone through with it? Would he have actually kissed him? Or did he only do it because he knew the helmet was there in between them?

Did Jason want him to kiss him?

Fuck. He did.

Danny was gone now, nowhere to be seen. Whatever chance he’d had of figuring out more was gone. And yet that seemed the least of Jason’s problems.

-

So that's the end of the date, though of course not the end of the story. Consider commenting or writing something in the tags if you liked it, things irl are gonna be very busy for the next year so I could use all the motivation for writing I can scrape together. You can subscribe at the masterpost for future updates. Next

[unholyhelbig]

new oversight will be everything! i can’t wait!

Title: Work Life Balance [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader gets hurt during a job, she starts to worry about how her girlfriend, the infamous mafia boss that controls the city, will react

[a/n: while this isn't a new chapter of Oversight (I am working on that), it is set in the same universe as the Oversight. It's based off of a Private Practice episode, and something a little lighter & silly. Enjoy!]

Warnings: Gun violence, blood, spit, threats, blood, hurt/comfort, No spell checks

Check out the full Oversight universe

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The metal bat had slammed against the side of your face with enough force to blind you momentarily in the right eye. It knocked the sense out of you too and your bearings were scrambled until that darkness started to ebb away into a blurry image of the alleyway.

There was a pungent scent in the air, rotted food in dark green trash bags that had been torn by tiny teeth, or elongated claws. Crumpled napkins and discarded soda cups littered the damp ground.

Before the man could swing the bat for a second time, you caught it half an inch from your face and shoved it away. He was disarmed and you were able to shove his back up against the wall, holding him there despite his squirming. His lip was split, the blood drying quickly from the bright red to a deep black.

“Come on, man.” You twisted your hand into the fabric of his shirt, bunching your fingers around his collar. “We fronted the product, so you have to front the cash.”

“Fuck off,”

He spit on you, a gummy mix of tobacco and sugar. There were a lot of things you could handle; the ringing in your ear, and the pain in your knuckles from the first four blows you threw. But spit was where you drew the line. It had bugged you since you were in fifth grade and Amy Sheldon dangled a long string of it inches from your nose before slurping it back up through the slit in her buck teeth.

“Alright,” you breathed out, making sure you kicked the fallen bat out of his reach. “You agree to push product on that little street racer of yours in exchange for twenty five percent of the cut. You get sloppy and sample the product and don’t have the cash to give to my boss?”

You lifted him from the brick and shoved him back down onto it with enough force to push the putrid breath from his lungs. “That doesn’t feel very fair, now, does it?”

He smiled at you with a laugh that rivaled a cackle. His teeth were orange with diluted blood. There was no getting through to him. Your free hand dipped into the side of your jacket. Over the last two years, you’d grown well accustomed to the feeling of a gun in your hand.

You pushed the tip of the gun under his chin into the soft spot of his skin. He stopped laughing, the sound getting stuck in his throat with a choking sound.

“Do you know what they call me?” You gritted.

“A raging bitch?”

You made a buzzing noise in the back of your throat, much like the signaling of a wrong answer on a game show. There was a soft click as you pulled the trigger of the gun. The man in your grasp tensed and hissed.

“Wrong. You know, at first, I just forgot to load my gun. Got me into some pretty hot water, scalding actually. But eventually it became a bit of a calling card. Roulette. I can pull the trigger as many times as I want, but only one will hit it’s mark.”

He swallowed hard, you felt it in the side of your hand. He was sweating and you were growing tired of the empty threats. Yelena wouldn’t approve of something like this, and you were sure Natasha wouldn’t have had a second thought about putting a mark between his eyebrows.

“Most men aren’t lucky more than twice,” You pulled the trigger again, met with another soft click. Of course, there were no bullets in the chamber; they rattled in your front pocket like your keys. “Three times at most.”

His voice cracked. “Please,”

There was a sharp scent in the air that rivaled that of trash. You were losing blood fast. It had streaked down the side of your face from a gash on your temple and crusted the collar of your shirt.

“You have a week to make up the difference. A week and I’ll be back with a gun that has more than one bullet in the chamber. Am I clear?”

“Yes, but-“

“Am I clear?”

He nodded aggressively and you sheathed your weapon, releasing him. His legs gave out and he sunk to the damp pavement. You picked up the weighted metal back, entirely content to take it with you. It would make your next encounter a hell of a lot easier.

It was impossible to sneak into the house without giving yourself away. Even if you were to park down the block, unlace your shoes and pad into the foyer barefoot, and leave the front door open a crack, you were at risk of creating a scene.

That didn’t mean that you couldn’t keep the injured side of your face away from Natasha for as long as possible. She would know that something was up, and despite her throwing you into this life in the first place, her heart broke when you were on the deep side of any injury.

You set the metal bat down with a bucket of black umbrellas and a bench that was mostly unused. There was a dull metal thump that aggravated the headache that was coming on. You attempted to sneak up the stairs, but the second your fingertips hit the mahogany handrail you were stopped by an irritated voice with a Russian lilt to it.

Yelena was sprawled out on the sofa, a book was face down on her chest, lifting and falling with each breath. She’d given up on it in favor of the warmth that Kate provided her. Kate’s head was on Yelena’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around her midsection. Yelena looked perfectly comfortable in between Kate’s legs, both of them were about ready to doze off and if you had waited an extra five minutes, maybe you would have gotten away with sneaking in.

“Did you get hit by a bus?” Kate asked.

You leaned against the entryway of the sitting room. “Ricky got a good hit in with a metal bat.”

“Oo, Natasha is going to be mad at you.” Yelena chuckled, taunting you like a child. You would have thrown a pillow at her if Kate wasn’t in the line of fire.

She was going to be mad at you for not using the buddy system that was proposed and certainly for not dodging the hit that was coming your way. Natasha hated when you got hurt and that sad look in her eyes was worse than whatever pain could be inflicted on you.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks pretty bad.” Kate said.

You shot them both the middle finger before turning away and padding up the stairs towards your shared bedroom with Natasha. Most days, she was holed up in her office and you didn’t bother her until the ache for her touch, for her presence, bothered you both enough to cave.

That was most days.

Some days, Natasha could be found in your room in sweatpants with a laptop propped up on her crossed legs. She was dwarfed in the silk bedspread, her hair in a messy bun and a pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose.

This was quite possibly your favorite look on Natasha, this quiet version of her. She’d let you hold her in this state instead of the other way around. You hated to break the mood, hated that she glanced up from her laptop not once, but twice.

Wordlessly, Natasha set her work aside and walked over to you. She cupped your face, her fingers cold against your cheeks. Her voice was soft and when she was angry enough, there was the slightest bit of a Russian inflection to her words. “What happened?”

“I… didn’t use the buddy system.”

“Mm, you didn’t use the buddy system.”

Her thumb moved against the black and blue wound against your eye. She pressed every so slightly, testing its durability. You winced, drawing in a breath through clenched teeth. It wasn’t bad, really, her touch soothed you just as quickly as it had bitten you with pain.

Natasha was good at taking care of you and she pulled you into the large master bathroom that the two of you shared. There was an abundance of white and beige. It was always a few degrees cooler than the rest of the house and offered a form of comfort as such.

There were nights where the two of you would simply brush your teeth shoulder to shoulder, and there were nights where she had her arms wrapped around you amongst the deep scent of lavender. Bubble hit her touch as her fingers roamed over the most intimate parts of you.

Now, she guided you to the edge of the sink and lifted you up in a fluid motion. She stood between your legs, making you feel even more like a child when Yelena had scolded you downstairs. Still, there was a degree of affection in her movements. Natasha frowned as she pulled a med kit from the bottom of the sink.

She tutted “Zaychik, this looks bad.”

“Image wise or the actual wound because-“You let out a small noise when she placed the frigid and stinging antiseptic against your face. It sent electric down your spine. “I didn’t know he had a bat.”

“A bat?”

“Right out of left field.”

Natasha’s frown deepened. This was supposed to be an easy job, and by all means, it was. You had accomplished your assignment of scaring up. You were sure he had released his bladder as he slid down the wall into a fetal position. Getting the money from a frightened man was going to be no problem.

Tonight was intended to be calm. You’d come home and shower and eat pizza and spend the entire night curled up in Natasha’s arms while she typed away on the computer. You’d listen to her breathing, her heartbeat.

Instead, she was roughly patching you up, buzzing with anger under her stare. “Why didn’t you take Clint?”

“Nat, I have a fantastic idea.”

“If it involves gutting that man alive and hanging him from a flagpole, then I am all in, darling.” Her words were light, distracted, as she wiped away a good portion of dried blood.

“What if we left things at the office, metaphorically speaking. What if we didn’t bring stuff like this home? Shut it all off.”  

She pulled back far enough to stifle her floral scent. There was an adorable crease between her eyes. “My mind doesn’t work like that, Malysh. This home is my office and vice versa. Someone hurt you and that is my business. That is my work.”

“I know,” you said, tucking a strand of fallen hair behind her ear. She glowered under her thick-framed glasses. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the frown off her face. “I know, but sometimes I just want to be with you.”

“Huh,”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

This wasn’t exactly a constructive conversation. You figured as much when she ripped a bandage out of its waxy packaging and slapped it onto the gash against your temple. You let out a disgruntled noise and she grasped your waist and maneuvered you back to the floor. Your legs had fallen asleep and you were a little unsteady.

Natasha flicked on the sink and started scrubbing her hands of your blood. “No sex,”

“What?” You blinked at her, scratching fruitlessly at the adhesive on the bandage. It was incredibly itchy.

Natasha dried her hands on the nearby towel, “You heard me, no sex.”

“You… You’re withholding sexual pleasure because of something that happened at work?”

“Not something that happened at work, your refusal to talk about it.”

“Natasha,” You nearly whined.

“No sex!” She huffed, pointing towards the exit of the room “Go sleep on the couch.”

You dropped your shoulders in defeat. You had been banned to the couch? Your girlfriend didn’t’ withhold most things and the two of you had a very healthy and active life. There wasn’t true anger behind her words, instead she was testing you. Watching you until you give in.

“Fine,” You huffed, crossing your arms “The couch sounds lovely.”

“Good,”

“Great.”

“Fine.”

You grabbed the fuzzy blanket at the base of the bed and started to stalk towards the door. You could feel Natasha staring at you, waiting for you to turn around and apologize but it wouldn’t happen. Not this time. You were setting boundaries and if that included…no sex… then that was fine. It was fine.

“Zaychik?”

You turned back to Natasha, one eyebrow lifted, “Yes?”

“Leave the blanket.”

She gave you a sugary sweet smile before settling back into her previous position, pulling her computer into her lap. Your jaw was agape, but you tossed the blanket at her nonetheless and stormed out of the room.

The nerve, the absolute nerve!

Natasha wasn’t particularly hard to have a conversation with, but work was nearly untouchable with her. You knew that. She knew that. You did as you were told and protected her and her assets at all costs.

When you got back downstairs you fixed yourself a sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich before sulking back into the living room and flopping down onto the recliner in the corner. Yelena had since fallen asleep, and Kate was reading the book while her eyes grew heavy.

“You got kicked out, huh?”

“Kicked out, banned from sex.” You waved the sandwich around in the air “doghouse.”

Kate scoffed “the Romanoff sisters aren’t always the most forthcoming, are they?”

She was looking lovingly at Yelena, stroking her hair as the smaller woman curled deeper into her, fingers clenching at Kate’s flannel and then releasing as she settled back into a comfortable sleep.

“They make it hard to love them, but the moments where the mask slips and they’re vulnerable. Moments like these make everything worth it. And despite everything, you know they care. They’ll always care.”

“Sometimes too much,” you took a large bite of your sandwich.

“No such thing.”

Yelena stirred in her arms, nose pressed against Kate’s pulse point. She clenched her eyes tighter, her next words mumbled “Kate Bishop, if you don’t stop talking you will be sleeping on the couch with y/n.”

“Doghouse,” You said with a long sigh.

“Mm,” Kate hummed, letting out a quiet whisper “Doghouse,”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife]

[moralesmilesanhour]

piece of cake

summary: meeting miles g at a bakery, and other happenings. wc: 3k+ warning: blood, grief (more at the periphery, not a major theme), and lightly implied mommy issues a/n: ngl i was hungry asf when i wrote this. why can't i ever write normal fluff fics anymore. first fic of 2024!!

Brooklyn Middle is closed for winter break. The basketball court where the snow-covered hoop no longer has a net is empty, save for the blinking Christmas lights strung across the chain-link fence.

In a few years, the pizza place across the street where students would linger after school will be demolished, replaced by a shiny new Oscorp building that reflects the sun from all angles of its glass exterior. But for now, the place is just closed early for the holidays, a few blocks away from a bakery.

The tall, bear-like frame of a father dressed in a long black overcoat can be seen entering with a wiry young boy in a red hoodie and bomber jacket tailing close behind. He has an afro as opposed to his father’s closely-cropped hair. The boy keeps trying to straighten his posture - as if his spine would suddenly lengthen and his shoulders would broaden from the act alone. He wants to make himself look important today, because he is on a top-secret mission: 

Operation: Get Mom a Cake.

“I think mom’ll like that one.”

The boy points at a slice of tres leches cake sitting behind a glass display. It’s not as flashy as the other decorative cakes drizzled with chocolate and strawberries or encased in pink frosting, but those wouldn’t melt on the tongue the way tres leches did. 

His father raised an eyebrow at the plain slice, but the boy looked at him with a certainty that he’d never seen before, through eyes nearly identical to his mother’s. The man knew then that he was getting an expert opinion.

“Alright, if you say so,” he chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “We’ll take that one, Val.”

The boy smiled proudly at the older woman as she handed him the pink box containing the cake. Mission accomplished.

Now, he looks up and frowns at the Oscorp building blocking the view of where his old school used to be as he picks at a slice of cake with a plastic fork.

The ‘Employees Only’ door behind the counter swings open, and Valeria Cruz hobbles out, removing her apron.

“It’s almost your shift, Miles, hurry up and finish that cake.”

Miles takes one more bite before rising from his seat near the entrance and pushing the paper plate and half-eaten slice into a small trash can.

“You got it, Miss V.”

“Did you take out the trash?”

He pauses, and his eyes widen.

“I’mma get that done right now, Miss V!”

The woman sighs, running a hand through gray and white-streaked curls as the teen sprints out the door and back outside.

A forest green puffer jacket rushes past you on the sidewalk. It’s the same one you had seen shuffling out of the back entrance of Val’s bakery the other morning, lugging two black garbage bags with a purple hoodie obscuring the stranger’s face. 

He probably works there, then, you think. Good. She could use the help.

The place had been packed the week before Officer Morales’ funeral, and for several weeks after. But over time, business began to slow down to a trickle. Hipster cafés and towering condos sprang up and choked out the little pizza shops and restaurants that took their owners’ last names, like when an invasive species of plant grows taller than the local varieties and smothers them, blocking out the sun.

You had been seeing Val’s face since you were in diapers. Families used to go there for birthdays, for elementary school graduations, middle school graduations - or sometimes just to grab something sweet to eat after church on Sundays. You continued the tradition–even if just to buy a tiny bag of cookies–in the hopes that the place might still be standing for your high school graduation. 

The bell above the door rings to signal your entrance. The once baby pink wallpaper has begun to fade, but the late-afternoon sun makes it feel as vibrant as it did when you were twelve. Valeria is standing in front of the display of freshly-baked pastries with her apron folded neatly over her arm.

“Oh, were you about to close up shop?” You begin to take backward steps. “I can come back later–”

“No, no, sweetie, it’s fine!” The woman waves her hand, beckoning you to stay. “I was just about to go on my lunch break. I have someone about to take over for me.”

“It’s cool, I can wait. I saw somebody taking out the trash, that him?”

She sighs wearily, “That’s him, alright. He’s a good kid, but he’s always–”

“Sorry I’m late!”

In rushes Mr. Green Jacket through a chilly gust of wind, who turns to nod in greeting towards you before weaving past Val and behind the counter, where he disappears through the ‘Employees Only’ door.

“That boy, I swear. Never on time!”

He reappears sans the jacket, wearing a white apron identical to the one Val is holding. The name tag on it reads ‘Miles’. 

Miles. Where have you heard that name before…?

The hood on his sweater is no longer pulled over his head, revealing two neat cornrows that cascade all the way down his neck. The surrounding hair has been shaved and faded at the nape of his neck and hairline. He’s the sort of brown-skinned that looks golden when the sunlight hits his face as he approaches the cash register. 

“You gonna be alright for the next half hour?” asked Val with an eyebrow raised.

Miles drummed his fingers on the counter and grinned. “Yup, I got it.”

“Don’t destroy anything while I’m gone!”

“I won’t, promise.”

She pushes the door open with a skeptical look and leaves.

With this new stranger temporarily in charge, you carefully approach the counter. He looks up at you with curious brown eyes.

“Whatchu want?”

“Um…” you blink before remembering what you were here for. “Just sugar cookies, please.”

“How many?”

“Five.”

He turns to grab a paper bag, then bends to drop the desired amount of cookies into it with the pair of tongs that sit on the inside of the display.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what school you go to? I haven’t seen you around here before, feel like I’d remember you if I had.”

Miles pops his head over the counter and tilts his head with a cheeky grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You avoid eye contact, shifting from one foot to the other. Suddenly it’s not so cold anymore.

“I-I don’t know. You just seem memorable.”

He laughs a raspy, breathy laugh and hands you the bag of cookies over the counter. His hand is much larger than yours with slender fingers at the end of it, but still manages to appear almost clumsy-looking. Big enough to be a man’s, but with only half the dexterity.

“I go to Visions.”

“Fancy. You like it over there?”

“It’s aight. Kinda uptight, but my dad always said it was a ‘good opportunity’, so I stayed.”

You hum in consideration. 

“Can't do everything for your parents, though. They'll have you living their dreams before you know it.”

The smile fades a bit, and Miles averts his gaze.

“Well my dad passed, so I just figured I’d just do this one thing for him.”

You cover your mouth with your palm.

“I'm so sorry, I–”

“It's fine,” he snorts without any humor. “You might be the only one that doesn't know who my daddy is. Kind of a relief.”

Miles encloses the money you just gave him in the slot beneath the cash register with a loud snap. 

“You need anything else?”

You chew on your bottom lip in embarrassment and clutch your bag of cookies.

“No. Thank you.”

He doesn’t look up from the register.

“Have a nice day.”

Your mother is leaning on the window sill, nibbling on a granola bar when you get back home. She’s silent, which means she is observing. You’ll need to tread carefully. 

“I brought cookies.”

She gives you a sidelong glance.

“Val’s cookies?”

“Yup, same as always.”

“That lady still working there all by herself?”

“She hired somebody to help out, actually - I saw a boy working the register.”

She notices the upward inflection in your voice at the mention of a boy, which interests her more than the cookies.

“What’s he look like?”

“He’s got, um,” you make a gesture over your head. “Twin braids–cornrows–and a green jacket? Kinda tall, too.”

Your mother nods, thoughtful. The description rings a bell, but she needs to confirm.

“You catch his name?”

“Miles, I think.”

“Lord,” she gasps, fully turning to face you. “That’s that Morales boy! I used to work with his momma, bless her heart. Barely saw his face after the funeral.”

The image of Miles’ face at the mention of his dad makes you cringe at your comment earlier. How could you not recognize him? He practically stole his face from the mural that was plastered above the precinct. You had only heard the boy’s name uttered once by your mother over the phone at 2:00 A.M., whispered like a secret.

“I can’t imagine how it must be for Miles. Didn’t he just get into that nice school down there? Of course they’ll have to let him go home. He should be with his mother.”

“He was such a sweet little boy. Then I saw him the other day?” 

She shook her head, “Look like a different person. He had them flashy studs in his ears, nose pierced and everything.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he had tattoos under that coat as well. Damn shame.”

“He seemed nice when I saw him,” you remark quietly in a weak attempt to defend his character, despite having known him for all of five minutes. “Sweet, like you said.”

Your mother’s face hardens, all of her attention now focused on you as she folds the wrapping of the granola bar.

“That’s why you’re not bringing no boys home ‘till you’re eighteen,” she sharply reminds you. “‘Seems nice’ - How you know if he’s really nice or not?”

Again, Miles’ face appears in your mind’s eye. He didn’t seem to want your pity - rejected it, even. And what of his apparent chronic lateness? 

Still…

“You don’t know that, either,” you say despite yourself. “I spoke to him while I was there.”

Your mother’s eyes narrow. 

“Girl, I know that look. I better not see you runnin’ around with that boy, understand me?”

She looks set on not changing her mind now, so you only nod in defeat.

“Yes, ma’am.”

In your head, you’re already making plans to hit up the bakery tomorrow - both to apologize and to see the sun kissing Miles’ face again. Maybe tomorrow he’d even have the piercings in.

But when you get there the next day under the guise of ‘a trip to the corner store’, Miles isn’t at the register. 

The sky has turned a pale shade of gray, and it has begun to drizzle. Pulling your navy blue coat tightly around you, you consider turning back around when–

Boom!

The sound of something hitting a trash can from behind the establishment catches your attention. It could be him taking out the trash at the last minute again.

Your assumption is proven only halfway correct.

Stepping over discarded boxes and tin cans, you find Miles doubled over, clutching his side. “Are you okay?” 

Startled, bloodshot eyes glance at you before focusing on the ground.

“Fucking fantastic,” he grunts painfully.

As you get closer, you can see a dark stain blooming from where his hand is. A sick feeling swirls in your stomach.

“Oh my God, do you need me to call somebody?”

“Nah, I’m…I’m straight,” Miles says through labored breaths. “I just gotta…patch myself up before I get home.”

You whip out your phone and frantically unlock it.

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

“Hell no–”

“You are bleeding!”

He tilts his head towards a duffle bag lying near his feet. 

“I got First Aid in there…that’ll do me just fine.”

When he tries to reach for the bag, his knees give out, causing him to collapse right next to it.

-

Miles shivers as you gingerly wrap white bandages around his waist, the flat expanse of skin on his stomach partially exposed to the elements. He fades in and out of consciousness, between your face and black nothingness. When he’s awake, he stares up at you in disbelief.

“I didn’t call 9-1-1, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you tell him with a grin. “This should stop the bleeding, but I can’t help you beyond that.”

“Wusyaname?” he mumbles, head lolling towards you. He’s on the brink of passing out again.

“Call me (Y/N).”

“Wasn’t gon’ call you anything else.”

“Shut up, I just saved your life.”

“Mmmm-hm,” Miles hums with a lazy smile that makes you wonder if he’s becoming delirious.

“Eeeeverybody loves sayin’ that. Everybody always…”

His eyelids get heavy before he can finish the thought, and he finally blacks out again in your lap. 

-

There’s a short line inside the bakery that weekend, and you wonder if Miles has anything to do with it. 

Word seemed to get around mysteriously fast that the former teenaged recluse had come out of hiding after that conversation (if you could even call it that) with your mother. From where you’re sitting–by the window, nibbling on a sugar cookie, observing–Miles does not seem to enjoy the attention.

Or maybe you’re just imagining the strained smile on his face as the line of customers becomes a Greek chorus of gasps and squeals.

“You got so big!”

“What did you do to your hair?”

“Oh, you look just like Jeff.”

“How’s Rio?”

“Good to see you out and about again.”

The sparkling curiosity is nearly drained from his face by the time he joins you at the end of his shift with a slice of cake. He does not have the fabled nose piercing in, but two diamond studs sparkle when the light hits them every time he moves his head.

“So?”

“So…?”

“Are you alright after I found you the other day? I saw you limping back there.”

Miles rolls his eyes.

“I’m fine. My mom’s literally a nurse. She got me straight.”

“What’d you tell her? Looked like you broke a rib.”

“Far as she’s concerned, I fell off my bike.”

“I’ve never seen you on a bike.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”

You shrug. Touche.

“What did you have to say to me that was worth stalking me after my shift?”

“Stalking?”

“You buy the same thing every time, you think I ain’t notice?” Miles smirks, like a detective who’s just gotten a confession. “Who goes to a bakery and only gets cookies?”

“Lay off me, man, these are excellent,” you take another bite for emphasis. “Anyways, I actually came to apologize.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “For what?”

“For what I said the first time I saw you. I didn’t know you were that Miles.”

The corners of Miles’ lips pull downwards into a frown. 

“That’s it?”

“Mm, well…”

You bite your lip by force of habit.

“I also wanted to talk to you again. Under better circumstances. That your favorite type of cake?”

Miles looks down at his plate when you point to it with your fork, as if he’s seeing it for the first time.

“Yeah, tres leches. What about it?”

“I dunno, I just always see you eating that and nothing else. Is there a reason?”

You expect to say something about the sweetness, or the texture, but instead he answers:

“It always tastes the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like…” He puts down his fork and starts to construct an analogy in his head.

“It’s like when you see an ice cream truck. You run up to it before it drives off, and what do you ask for? First thing that pops into your head?”

“Vanilla?”

“Exactly. You could try one of the other ones, but what if it tastes like ass? Now you stuck eating something you don’t like–”

“And it’s a waste of money.”

“Exactly!” Miles laughs. “You get it. My mom makes fun of me because I’ve been eating the same thing since I was five. But it’s always good! And the same amount of good.”

“Can’t argue with that.” 

You tap your nails on the table, thinking. 

“But what if you find a new flavor that you really like?”

He shrugs, “Then lucky me, I guess. But that doesn’t tend to happen.”

“It could happen, though.”

He watches the strange way you eat. Slowly, teeth-first, as if you’re afraid to make a mess. It’s weirdly dainty, which makes him chuckle beneath his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh-uh, don’t do that. What’s so funny?”

Miles gives you that same head tilt again.

“It’s cute, the way you eat.”

Your hand freezes just as it’s about to lift another cookie to your mouth, and you stare at him blankly.

“That’s…”

He pauses too. 

“...Weird, yeah. Sorry. I dunno why I said that.”

A beat of silence passes that’s so heavy with awkwardness, that the two of you can’t help but burst into poorly-stifled laughter.

You lean forward with your chin resting in your hand. “That’s fine. I kept coming here just to spy on you, so I guess I’m weird, too.”

“Ah, so you admit it!”

“Hey, if I wasn’t bein’ a total creep, you might’ve bled out next to the garbage dump. Val can’t lose a valuable employee, right?”

“If you put it that way.”

You can see the white of some of Miles’ teeth peeking out as he smiles. One of his canines is charmingly crooked, and sharper than the others. When the smile fades, he suddenly looks uncertain.

“Can I ask you a question this time?” 

“Ask away.”

“Do you wanna make this,” he gestures between you, “like, a regular thing? Y’know, ‘meeting under better circumstances’.”

It’s your turn for a smile to spread across your face. 

“We should. Whatever you did to end up bleeding out in the rain, I guess I’d be a witness now.”

“M-hm. Can’t have you yappin’ about that to my customers,” He plays along, then winks. “I’mma need your number too, just in case.”

Just before you reach for your phone in your pocket, you hear your mother’s voice in your head, casting a shadow over the whole thing and giving you pause.

All jokes aside, Miles had never explained what had landed him in that predicament behind the bakery in the first place. He’s always late. He lies to his mother. You’re about to lie to your mother. 

But the sun is hitting his face again, and with the light bouncing off of his pupils, he looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly. The shadow remains at the corner of your eye. Just the corner.

You grin and hand him your phone.

“You got it. Just in case.”

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ Mrs. Norris (nee. Piastri) - LN4

After everything that's happened, Olivia expects life with Lando to be easy. Stress and overthinking get to her, when all Lando wants to do is take the next step.

lando norris x piastri!oc //(marketing ploy continuation one shot)

warnings/notes: overthinking/misunderstandings, Lando being a huge fucking softie, i like this better than the ENTIRE original mp storyline. oops.

Lando’s been weirdly avoidant and Olivia’s not sure why. The seasons not currently going on, winter break giving her and Lando a few weeks to decompress and be together. Except for when Olivia had to stay with Red Bull late most nights, crunching numbers, testing adjustments. She'd asked Oscar multiple times about how Lando felt with her being so late all the time or why Lando was being so secretive, but between doing stuff with Lily and training with McLaren, Oscar had never gotten back to her.

Which, she thought was stupid because Oscar was working with Lando. But she didn't press. She just threw herself into stress over it.

The shared Monaco apartment is breezy, a few of the windows cracked open to let out the nauseating level of cleaning supplies smell emanating from almost every surface. Olivia was a stress cleaner today, usually that role fell to Oscar, and yet here she was scrubbing down the fucking base boards. It had been almost a year into this relationship and if this was the first time he'd stressed her out this much (other than the whole... almost stopping the fake dating thing, which really was her fault) she'd be able to live with Lando forever.

As she stands up from finishing cleaning the last speck of dirt from the last corner of the house, a big breeze rolls through. With it, the scent of the Monaco air swells in and sways the curtains along the room. Olivia sighs and grabs her mess of cleaning supplies and tosses it away in the trash, washing her hands after before retreating to the bathroom for a much needed 'everything shower.'

And when she's clean, the house is clean, and dinner had been cooling on the counter, Lando finally comes home an hour later that expected while still on the phone.

"I understand--" He groans when the person on the phone keeps talking as he takes in the cleanliness of their apartment and his heart strains. Oscar had warned him he had to do it before she got to the point of stress cleaning the entire house and it seems he had been too late to notice.

"I gotta go." He says into the phone and hangs up, kicking his shoes off and shoving his phone in his pocket. Once hanging up his jacket, bag, and shoes in the right spots, he slowly makes his way into the small balcony where his girlfriend sits curled up in the sun. She looks like the epitome of peace with a book on her lap and headphones over her ears. Though, the longer Lando admires her from the doorway, the more stress lines he can see.

"Ollie, baby," He croons, making his way over to where she sits. Olivia perks up and smiles, taking one headphone off as she holds out her arms for a hug. Lando does one better and plops down on the couch next to her and lays in her lap, letting her hands naturally fall to combing through his hair.

"Long day?" She asks and he just nods, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her stomach.

"Sorry for being so... bleh." He says softly, the weight of the apology and Oscar's short scolding the other day boring down on him, "I just have been so exhausted from work.."

"It's alright." Olivia says, a bit too quickly for his liking.

"No," Lando pops up, leaning to press a soft kiss to his girlfriends lips, "it's not alright, I've been avoidant and ignorant and it's not right of me. Oscar's told me off twice for it."

"I told him about it because I was scared you were mad at me." Olivia hums softly, closing her book and setting it aside, Lando shakes his head practically crushing Olivia under his weight as he leans on her to press a kiss to her jaw.

"I could never be mad at you..." Lando sighs, "It's just... McLaren were looking at bringing in a new driver as our third to work with Pato and so I've been so been busy trying to get to know her--but shes gonna go with Ferrari anyways so--"

"Dhanishka, right?" Olivia hums, watching Lando's jaw flex as she cuts him off--and then he sharply nods.

"Charles was asking me about her, apparently she used to be dating Logan." Olivia looks down at her book as she marks it and then sets it on the table next to her, "Oscar knows her pretty well, they raced together for a few years."

"Yeah, but, I..." Lando huffs, sitting up now so he can cup his girlfriends head in his hands as he swallows, "I should've told you but there was just... never a good moment. But I should've made a moment, because I love you and it's stupid for me to neglect you and I'm sorry but--"

Olivia leans forwards, connecting her lips with her boyfriends softly. It's like every thought leaves his head, and he blinks at her as she laughs at his empty eyed look.

"I love you too, Lando. I also should've asked if you were okay instead of just ignoring you." She murmurs against his lips before pressing another soft kiss to his skin. Lando blinks and then gets up, dragging Olivia into the kitchen with him. She laughs softly at his spontaneous movements before he hoists her up to sit on the counter.

"Wait here." He pokes her collarbone and then disappears down the hall before Olivia can ask a question. She shrugs, kicking her feet idly as she hears him rooting through his work bag, eventually she hears a soft 'aha!' and Lando nearly slips in his socks as he runs back into the room fumbling with something in his hands.

"Okay, I had like this whole dinner and beach walk and little romantic thing planned!" Lando starts explaining quickly, waving his hands in exclamation, "but, but, but! I--here!"

And he slides a small princess cut diamond ring on Olivia's finger. She blinks at it, then up at Lando's nervous smile, then back down at the ring and the gasp that leaves her is so sharp she starts to cough.

"Lando Norris!" She shouts once she's recovered from her fit, nearly whacking her boyfriend in the side of the head, "are you--what the fuck?!"

"You are not as calm as your brother is."

"I got all his emotions," she deadpans, then stammers, "now explain?!"

He grins, blinking at her, "I was so worried you'd say no, or I'd say it at the wrong time, and I realized-- there's no time to wait for the right time if its just gonna make you stressed. So. Marry me?"

All Olivia can do is stare at Lando. His big eyes are full of childlike wonder, sparkling like the diamond that weighs down her left ring finger. His smile is infectious, once her shock subsides, and she finds herself laughing.

Because nothing with her and Lando was elegant or planned. It had always been messy, mushed together, rushed like this. And that was what felt right for them.

But she's still so shocked she can't form words, so hopefully a kiss to her boyfriends already parted lips will do. And if his hand firmly creeping up her thigh isn't proof, maybe his soft giggle is as the pull back and smile against each others lips.

"I wish you had a middle name so I could shout at you to properly express my emotions right now." Olivia whispers.

"No shouting," Lando murmurs, pulling her closer to him by her knees so rtheir chests are flush as he plants his hands on the counter besides her, "only kissing."

"Fine, fine." Olivia obliges, letting her hands tangle in his curls, feeling the still drying sweat on his hairline under her palms as he dips his head down to place a firm kiss to her collarbones.

"You know I have to Facetime half the population to show them this, right?" Olivia gasps, breathless, then she feels something sharp and whacks his shoulder, "Lando! Teeth?!"

"Just in case the ring didn't make everyone know you're mine." He smiles with his stupid amount of boyish confidence Olivia fell for last season and she huffs at him, but can't stop the smile on her lips.

"I hope Oscar yells at you for it when I call him." She teases and pushes Lando aside so she can go grab her phone and he whines behind her as he trails like a puppy.

"No..! All he's been doing is yelling at me for being a pussy and not asking you!"

But Olivia's mischievous laugh makes him grin double in size before he reaches out to grab her waist, pulling her back to his chest as he purposefully sloppily kisses at her neck to make her squeak, trying to squirm away.

"You can wait to call him, I wanna be with my pretty wife." He complains, "and if he's gonna yell at me, I'll give him something to yell about."

and after another playful nip, Olivia shouts with a loud giggle escaping her chest, "I have work tomorrow, you fucking vampire!"

And all is warm once again in the Piastri-Norris household, just as it should be. Hodge-poged together.

[specialagentlokitty]

Derek Shepherd x Daughter!reader - making it up to you

Derek Shepherd with a teen daughter plss? i have no specific storyline but i’d lovee to see a hurt/comfort between them! - Anon💜

Sitting with your uncle in the hospital cafeteria, you looked around as you tried to find your dad but there was absolutely no sight of him anywhere.

“What’s up kid? You look more upset then that time I didn’t let you push me in the pool.” Mark chuckled.

You cracked a small smile but it quickly fell as you looked to the table at the food tray that your trash was sat on waiting to be tossed.

Mark frowned a little but he didn’t say anything as he waited for you to reply.

“I was actually supposed to have lunch with dad… I couldn’t find him or call him though so I called you because I was already here…” you mumbled.

“Ouch, I’m hurt you never even thought about me little shepherd.”

This got a small laugh out of you and Mark smiled, pulling your tray over to his side and he stacked it on his gesturing for you to get up and follow him.

So you did, he got up and you did the same, following him around the hospital.

He gestured for you to wait while he went into a staff only room, and he came out about 10 minutes later holding his hand out to you.

“What?” You asked.

“Well if you’re dad isn’t going to be a dad to you, I will. Let’s go, we’re gonna grab some snacks, and watch that crappy Tv show you like so much.”

“You don’t have to uncle, I know you probably want to sleep.”

Mark rolled his eyes, placing his hand on your head as he gently pulled you next to him, arm around your shoulder as he started to walk.

“I have a week off kid, I couldn’t care less about missing a day of sleep. Plus you’re more important right now, and I want you to tell me everything that’s going on with your dad, got it?”

You nodded and he grinned down at you.

Derek saw you leaving the hospital with Mark, and he went to walk over when he was stopped by Meredith calling his name.

He looked at you before turning back to Meredith.

You were with Mark so he knew you were safe, he’d see you after his shift when he got home anyways, and he was sure if it was important you would’ve called him.

Walking over to Meredith he smiled as he pulled her in for a hug.

You spent the whole day at the apartment with your uncle watching tv and laughing and joking you were still excited for when your dad finished his shift, you were supposed to be going to dinner with him.

As the time ticked by you felt your happiness slowly fall and this was something mark noticed.

“(Y/N)?” He asked as he grabbed his jacket.

He stopped leaving and turned around as he heard your heavy sigh.

“His shift ended an hour ago and he’s not home… he’s not even bothered to call but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised…”

“Let me call him, okay? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You waited for Mark to return and when he did he seemed angry, but he kept his temper as he walked over and sat next to you.

“He’s not coming home tonight.”

“It’s because of her? Right?”

He nodded his head.

Of course it was because of her, ever since you two moved here it was all about that Meredith.

You couldn’t even go live with your mom because she moved away, and you didn’t want to leave your school and friends again.

Tears burned your eyes and mark placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Come on, pack some of your stuff you’re coming to mine for a few days, you shouldn’t be abandoned like this.”

“What about when dad comes back?”

Mark shrugged and gave you a grin.

“I’ll fight him if you want me to, I’m adopting you now, you’re a sloan now kid.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“Alright dad.” You sassed.

“That’s weird, don’t say that.”

“Hey, you said I’m your blood now. That makes you my dad!”

“No! I’m still your uncle!”

“Nope! I’ve adopted you. You’re my father now. There’s no escaping.”

“Oh yes there is.”

Mark bolted from the apartment with your packed bag in his hand and you laughed chasing after him, only stopping to lock the door behind you.

Derek called you the following day, but seemed to be happy when you told him you were spending time with Mark.

Even after Marks holiday ended you stay with him, you practically lived with him at this point and Derek finally realised you’d been gone a long time.

You weren’t feeling well, and Mark had taken the day to look after you, and that’s when he realised it wasn’t getting any better.

Your fever was going up, and you were getting worse and worse and Mark started to panic.

“Come on, we’re going to the hospital. Come on.” He whispered.

He helped you pull your favourite hoodie on over your head to try stop your from shivering, then he wrapped you in the blanket next to you and picked you up.

You were dazed, barely making any sense when you talked.

He didn’t bother locking his door, he didn’t care if he was robbed or not, you were far more important.

He rushed you to the hospital and upon seeing you in the surgeons arms the nurses wasted no time in rushing you away to start preforming tests on you.

“Sloan? Why are you here I though you had the day off?”

Mark turned to Meredith and he scowled at her.

“Tell Derek to remember that he’s a damn father!” He snapped before storming off.

All Mark could do was pace while he waited for you to return, and he didn’t see or hear from Derek while he did.

After what felt like days Mark was escorted to your room and you were half asleep when he walked in.

He closed the door and walked over.

“Mark…?” You mumbled out.

“Hey kiddo, I’m here.”

“What.. what’s wrong with me…”

Mark sat up on the side of your bed and let you hold his hand as you wheezed for breath.

“You caught the flu, you’ve got a real bad cause of pneumonia, but you’re going to be okay.” He whispered.

You nodded your head and closed your eyes, taking a shallow breath.

“Where’s… dad…?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

You nodded again and fell asleep.

Mark didn’t actually know where Derek was, he didn’t even know if he was at the hospital today or not.

He didnt bother trying to call his friend either, if he was there, if he wasn’t answering the hospitals calls then that’s Derek’s fault, not yours.

Mark had fallen asleep while sitting with you, what woke him up was the sound of someone trying to quietly close the door.

He peaked an eye open and closed it again.

“So you remembered you’ve got a daughter?” He asked.

“I was in a meeting, I didn’t know. My phone was off, and no one came to find me.”

Mark scoffed.

Derek walked over and stood at the edge of the bed as he looked down at your pale form.

“How is she?” He asked.

“If you were here you would’ve known, or you can just get her chart and read it.”

“Mark just tell me how my daughter is. I’m her legal guardian not you.” Derek growled.

Mark got up and pushed Derek out the room, closing the door softly behind him and spun around to face Derek.

As mark spun around he punched Derek in the face, sending him stumbling back.

“Her legal guardian?! Where were you when she waited for you to come home to have dinner with her?! Or when she was crying her eyes out because she missed Addison! That’s right, you were banging Grey!”

“I wasn’t with Meredith! I was busy with patients and (Y/N) seemed happy staying with you for a while!”

“Yeah, well she was pissed with you and didn’t want ti be alone. I’ve been more of a father to the kid in the past few weeks then you have been in months!” Mark hissed.

His went back into your room while Derek brought a hand up to cover his bloody nose, glancing at all the people who stopped to look at him before he walked away.

Derek tended to his nose, and he started at himself in the mirror, tears filling his eyes.

Was he really pushing you away?

The door to the on call room was pushed open and quietly closed and Derek turned around to find mark standing there.

“Here to punch me again?“ Derek snapped.

“No, look I’m sorry. It’s just (Y/N)s been really missing you man. She needs you.”

“I know.. I’ve fucked up Mark… big time..”

Mark walked over, placing a hand on his best friends shoulder.

“And you can still make it right, she’s asking for you.”

Mark pulled Derek in for a hug, patting his back before he pulled away and pushed him towards the door.

“Now go, I’m going to grab her phone charger and some food, but she wants you.”

Derek rushed to your room and made his way inside to see you had fallen asleep again.

He walked over and sat where mark had been sat not long ago, and he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he laid with you.

“Dad…?” You mumbled.

“I’m here sweetheart, just rest.”

You made a noise and cuddled yourself into his side, a soft smile on your face as you did

[assortedseaglass]

Curl Into Me

Billy Washington x AFAB Reader

Summary: Billy looks after you during your period.

Content Tags: Fluff, Drabble, Language, Talk of Feminine/Reproductive Health, Suggestive Language, Talk of Period Sex

Notes: Guess what came early? 🩸🩸🩸

“Babe?” Billy kicked the door closed behind him with a trainered foot. “Babe? Took a while ‘cause they didn’t have any of those ones you wanted in Boots. Had to pop to Superdrug to get ‘em, then off to Sainsbury’s for supplies.”

Nothing.

“Babe?”

Shrugging of his jacket and kicking off his shoes, Billy padded through the small flat and into the lounge.

He’d left you there an hour ago, curled amongst the cushions watching some trash on the telly. A few scrunched up tissues remained, an empty packet of paracetamol and an unwrapped chocolate bar.

The open plan room was empty. He filled the kettle in the small kitchenette, placed a peppermint teabag in one mug and a Yorkshire tea in another, and made his way to the bedroom.

“Babe?”

He pushed the door open a little. Light was streaming into the room, the white sheets invitingly crumpled and glowing under the bright sun’s rays. Billy would never get over this room.

In the old flat, his bedroom was like a cardboard box. Dark, brown, damp, uninviting. Made simply for sleeping, clothes littered the floor along with empty glasses and dirty plates. Whether it was an old habit or the result of his trouble state of mind, Billy wasn’t sure, but he’d never drawn the curtains nor made the bed. Here it was different.

You bounded into his life like a whirligig, full of curiosity, patience and open-hearted joy. Spent endless nights in the pub listening to him pour his heart out. Tentatively invited him to back to your new flat, the one you’d since decorated together. Helped piece himself back together, along with the small home you’d made your own, with picture frames and matching mugs. Your record collection alongside his games.

The little flat was just as bright as that day you’d unpacked the final box. Sure, the bookshelf needed dusting and there were a few dirty mugs in the sink, but you’d get to those later. Together.

Billy looked around the room. At the pillows rearranged on the bed. The abandoned romance book on the duvet. The blanket hanging of the frame.

-I will but you a bottle of wine

And we’ll laugh and toast to nothing

And smash our empty glasses down

Let’s have a round for these freaks and these soldiers

A round for these friends of mine-

Shit. Joni could only mean one thing. Her voice crooned from the record player and, at the sniffle from the corner of the room, Billy found you.

You’d dragged a pillow from the bed, folding yourself around its lumpy shape on the floor. Your comfy jogging bottoms and been discarded, and the two hot water bottles you owned were pressed against your back and tummy.

Through the mess of uncombed hair, you looked up at Billy from your position on the floor.

“Did you get chocolate?” You croaked.

He laughed a little and held up the plastic bag of essentials. He couldn’t help it. Some sick part of him loved seeing you so weak and needy. At last, a chance for Billy to step up and look after you, just as you had always done for him.

“Get on the bed?”

“I don’t want to move,” your voice was a pathetic whinge of pain and tiredness.

“Alright,” Billy got down on the floor beside you. “Here,” he handed you a sharing bar of Dairy Milk and, with his back braced against the bedframe, pulled you back onto his chest.

You groaned as your muscles stretched. “Kettle’s on, I’ll refill your bottle in a minute.” Billy’s hands wound their way to your front and removed the hot water bottle there. The skin beneath your tatty tshirt was red raw and hot to touch. “You’ll burn yourself,”

“It’s the only thing that helps,”

“Let me,” In slow, tender semi-circles, Billy massaged your lower stomach.

God, he was good to you. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“Bath later, yeah?”

You could do nothing but nod. His hands rubbing your tender body, the chocolate, the heat from the hot water bottles. This was all you needed. If you could stay like that for the next, you would. Fuck, Billy would let you if you asked.

When you’d brought Billy home to meet your parents, they were nervous. You’d told them about his past; better to be transparent. Billy was best taken at face value. What you saw was what you got, and why complicate it by skirting over what had happened to him? Their worry had eased at once, however, when they saw how dedicated he was to you. How he made the effort to talk to each of them, interested in what they had to say. How he pressed his hand to your back and gazed at you, even when you weren’t talking to him. They couldn’t have chosen gentler soul for you.

“Billy?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you,”

He looked down at you, kissing your temple as he did so. “What for?”

“Going out and getting my stuff. Looking after me-”

“Jesus Christ, I’d be a prick if I didn’t-”

“I know,” you laughed at him. “But thank you.”

You sat there on the floor together, Billy rubbing circles into your stomach and back until Joni finished her singing and the record crackled on the deck.

“How you feeling?”

“Better, a little crampy, but better.” You sat up and turned to face him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You know,” Billy smirked as he chased your lips and settled his hands on the skin of your hips. “I did a little reading about what else helps periods, you know.”

“Billy Washington, you angel.” You teased, kissing his neck tenderly.

“Mmm,” he rubbed your sides lazily. What was the rush? A day of cuddles and cups of tea was all either of you needed. “Rosemary tea is meant to help the cramps, stretching your legs too, for some reason. And erm,” he faltered as you kissed his collarbone. “Sex, apparently.”

You stopped your kisses and looked at him with a smirk. “Getting ideas?”

Billy blushed. “It doesn’t heart to try. Said orgasms can help relax the muscles, and make periods shorter.” He was rubbing his neck, trying not to let his ulterior motives show. He’d do anything for your comfort, but if it was nice for him too? Even better.

You were still staring at him. What if you thought he was disgusting?

“We don’t have to, you know, fuck or anything.” Jesus Christ, he felt like a teenager. “But, I can give you an orgasm, if it would help-”

You shushed him with a finger to his lips. “Don’t be so embarrassed.” He smiled lopsidedly. “Maybe later?”

Billy nodded. “No pressure, though.”

“I know,” you laughed and settled against his chest. “Rub my back again?”

He did so diligently, and you hummed. “I love you, Bill.”

His hands squeezed you gently against him, and you inhaled his scent of laundry detergent and cheap cologne.

“I love you too,”

Notes: Fluffy fluffy fluff fluff.

General Taglist: @arcielee @theoneeyedprince @targaryenrealnessdarling @babyblue711 @ewanmitchellcrumbs @exitpursuedbyavulcan @myfandomprompts @humanpurposes @whoknows333

[cosmitton]

seeing a cute boy outside of a restaurant at night

Johan Seong x F!Reader (foreigner)

A/N: I haven’t written in so long and this is the first thing I’ve ever written for Lookism, so I’m nervous lol. The reader in this is described to be a foreigner, but I don’t describe what she looks like, so I hope that’s okay. She’s based off of one of my Lookism OCs but I thought it’d be better to write it as a Reader instead. I also won’t be using (Y/N) or anything like that bc I think it takes away from the flow of the writing/dialogue. Also, I think this takes place a little after the God Dog arc where Johan’s on his own again.

It’s not really romantic in this, but I’m thinking of making this a sort of series of one shots with this Reader specifically. Please lmk if Johan is OOC, bc I’m not confident in writing him haha. Anyways, hope you enjoy! c:

The nights are still cold at this time of year in Seoul. Not that you can really feel it at this point from where you are, starting the process of cleaning up and closing the restaurant. After having been cooped up in the small kitchen in the back of the hole-in-the-wall building you work at, finally done cooking after several hours, the space is well and truly stuffy by now. You were even a bit sweaty, in contrast to the people you can see pass by the windows outside that are trying to stay bundled up against the wind chill.

“Alright,” your boss walks into the back to join you, “you’ve been holed up in here long enough, I’ll take care of this. You go deal with the front.”

As if it’s ingrained in his mind as instinct, he swats at your back with the hand towel he grabs before you can protest that you can do it yourself and he should rest. You laugh slightly at the older man, deciding that you’re too tired anyway to argue with him right now.

You leave behind what you were working on to go out into the front of house in order to count down the register and go about cleaning and packing up the floors and tables. You work silently, comforted by the sound of your boss cleaning in the back and the distant hum of life filtering in from behind the windows and locked door.

“Mr. Terrence,” you call as you walk toward the back doors, “I’ll take the trash out now.”

“Thanks, kid.” He replies as you grab the black bags in both hands.

It’s as you walk outside, hit by the cold and slightly regretting not grabbing your jacket first, that you see him. A slim, brown-haired boy sitting by the mouth of the alley between your workplace and the building next door. He’s curled up like he’s trying to hide, in a way, with his knees drawn up tight and facing slightly away from you. When you glance over at what he’s looking at, you see two small dogs not far from him.

You try not to stare as you pass by, but it is weird to you. There’s not usually anyone out here, especially at this time of night and in this weather – and if there is, they’re usually not here for any good reason. It’s not your business, you try to remind yourself, and you can’t afford to be getting caught up in anything bad that might be happening.

Although, that doesn’t seem right, either. This boy is just sitting alone on the ground, watching – presumably – his two dogs and still hasn’t even looked up at you. He doesn’t seem the type to be here for any salacious reason, which makes the only other conclusion that comes to your mind much more heartbreaking – he’s here because he has nowhere else to go. You could be wrong, but the way he was dressed (yes, he had a jacket, but not thick enough for this cold) and had only his dogs and a single backpack sat at his side just hit your instincts in a certain way. You couldn’t see his face, but he looked slim – probably not starving, but clearly not eating as much as you preferred for a young person to be eating. (Distantly, you think about how Mr. Terrence would make fun of you for thinking this despite the fact that you are also a “young person”.) His dogs also looked skinny, and even if you didn’t care about this boy, you couldn’t in good conscience let animals go without food.

With that thought, you made up your mind and quickly threw away the trash and made your way back into the restaurant to head straight toward the kitchen.

“Mr. Terrence,” your boss jumped as you burst back into the room again, “sorry. I was wondering if you finished packing everything up?”

“Nearly there,” the older man watched as you scuttled about the kitchen to grab a to go box from under the counter and start filling it with food. “Oh, no,” he scoffs lightly, “not another stray. If you keep feedin’ ‘em, they’ll keep comin’ back expectin’ more.”

“A stray and his strays, yeah.” You continue, ignoring his scoff because you know he could stop you if he was really that bothered by it.

“What?”

“Some guy and his dogs.”

“Ohhh~” you don’t need to look up to face him, because you can hear the smug smile in his voice, “a boy, huh~? No wonder you’re so eager.”

You resist the urge to fling some of the food at him, “shut up. You know it isn’t like that.”

He’s already stopped listening to you, having made up his mind about your intentions, “uh-huh, sure.”

You don’t bother to reply, finished with packing up the to go box now and not trying to play his games. You make your way back toward the doors, hoping the boy and his dogs hadn’t left already. He’s still there, thankfully, when you get outside – again regretting that you forgot to grab your jacket, but somehow remembered to grab the dog treats you keep in your bag for any stray you might come across – and still not looking up. You make your way over to the boy with your shoulders hiked up in a weak attempt to shield yourself against the wind, trying to walk around into his sight so that you don’t sneak up on him.

One of his dogs notices you first, a little thing with pink ears, and seems to watch your approach cautiously. The boy notices and whips his head around immediately, as if he was trying to catch you, and you pause for a moment at the way he looks at you like you might be a threat. He looks to be around your age, with a pretty face and puppy eyes, but he scowls at you in a way that makes him seem older – weathered and weary from past experience. Oof, you think as you try to figure out how best to approach him, a standoffish one, then.

“Hey,” you greet lightly, “sorry to bother you. I work at this restaurant and I was wondering if you wanted to take these leftovers off my hands so we don’t have to waste them by throwing them away.”

You don’t actually have to throw away the leftovers, of course, but you’re banking on him not knowing that because he seems like the type to not take handouts unless it’s phrased as if he’d be doing you a favor instead. Before the boy can answer, though, the dog with pink ears walks up to you first. You kneel down to its level, putting your hand out to let it sniff you before you try to pet it.

“Hi, puppy~!” You can’t help the high-pitched baby voice you use to talk to animals, it’s instinct at this point and you refuse to feel embarrassed about it.

The other white dog that’s wearing a sweater is still hanging back, looking like it’s shivering, but you can’t tell if that’s from the cold or if that’s just natural. You set the to go box down beside you, petting the pink-eared dog with one hand while you wrestle the dog treats out of your pocket with the other. The pup is fully excited now, tail wagging so hard that it’s almost throwing the dog off its feet, while you feed the treats to it, eagerly.

You realize that you pretty much forgot about the boy when his voice makes you jump, “her name is Miro.”

You look over, and he doesn’t seem to be scowling at you anymore, just watching you interact with his dog – still cautious, but not threatened.

“She’s cute,” you smile, “and your other dog?”

“He’s Eden.”

“Can I give him some treats?”

“He doesn’t like strangers much.”

“Well,” you shift slightly, waiting for permission to approach, “I’ll give them to you and you can give them to him, then.”

“Why?” He’s suspicious again - not in the same way that others here are when they see your face and know you’re an outsider - and you recognize it and it breaks your heart for him. (It seems a bit ridiculous for you to hurt for him, given that you don’t know him at all, but you do because you’ve seen it before and you know it at your core.)

“Because they deserve it. They all do.” You mean his dogs, specifically, but you also mean him and every other person like him.

He watches you for a moment more, and you let him, but he doesn’t respond verbally – just shrugs and makes the smallest movement of his head to nod. You grab the to go box again, dog treats in the other hand, and rise to move toward him. He rises too, probably more comfortable with being at eye level than sitting – just in case. Miro is following at your feet, and you stop with a bit of distance between yourself and the boy. You hand him the dog treats first, glancing at Eden shaking a bit behind him, and he stuffs them into the pocket of his jacket. You try to hand him the to go box and that’s when he becomes suspicious again – obvious when you look him in the eye.

“I know it might be an inconvenience, but it’d really help if you could take these. It just seems like such a waste if we have to toss them.” He doesn’t believe you, you know he doesn’t just by how he looks at you, but neither of you are going to say it aloud.

He stares at you for a moment again, seeming to battle in his mind over whether to take it or not, but the hunger that you’re sure he’s feeling seems to win out. He takes it from you and, despite how reluctant he was to accept it in the first place, he immediately holds it close to him and slightly away from you as if you’re going to snatch it back.

You want to say more, but you’re not sure what and you don’t really have any more reason to since you accomplished what you came out here for. You think to ask his name and give him yours, but you feel like you might be pushing him with that. So, with nothing else that you can come up with, you start to back away.

“Thanks,” you smile at him again and look down at Miro and Eden, “bye puppies~!”

You think anything else would bother him, so with one last glance at the boy – who seems to be waiting for you to leave before he goes on with whatever his plans are – you fully turn back to the restaurant and go inside. You wish you had gotten his name, or had some way of checking up on him and Eden and Miro again just to make sure they’d be okay, but you just have to accept that it’s left up to fate now.

Who knows, you might meet him again one day.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 16

PREVIOUS

Sweeties is very busy tonight but they get a table relatively quickly. He sees some people looking at their group all dressed in the ‘required’ attire for going out to Eden’s and reminds himself that maybe it’s for the best that people remember him tonight. It MAY help the police find his body in a shallow grave somewhere if they can piece together his last few hours.

Nicky stops by the salad bar and grabs three packs of crackers. He hands one pack to FF who just stares blankly at it before shrugging and figuring his stomach needs something so he opens the pack and just eats the crackers.

Nicky looks at him with an abundance of fondness that he doesn’t understand but shakes his head and hands a laminated menu over to him to order dinner from. “I know you’re not drinking but you still gotta take your meds before we leave.” Nicky reminds and FF nods. He reaches into his pocket to confirm that they’re there and feels something cheap and plastic.

Oh god, he forgot to take his Happy Meal Toy out of his pocket. No one needs to know that.

He shoves his hand into his other jacket pocket and the sandwich baggy with his single dose for his Ulcer is right there.

He starts to look at the menu when he realizes that everyone else already knows what they’re going to order since they apparently come here regularly. He tries his best to never be a regular at any place where they can see him and repeat his order back to him (Hello CVS girl, yes thank you for holding some Pepto for him. No he is very brand loyal and would not like to try Tums thank you.)

FF stands behind the art of the panic pick.

He has cultivated this ability over his many years of panicking. He can look at a menu and pick an item that might not be the thing he most wants on that menu it is something that he can eat or drink. Then while he has that pick queued up and ready to fly if a member of the waitstaff comes over before he’s actually read what’s on offer he has his panic pick.

A place like this has GOT to have a burger.

He finds it under the sandwich section easily enough and now he has his panic pick as he peruses the rest of the menu.

The waitress comes far faster than he had anticipated and slams waters down at each of their spots. “What can I get you?” She asks and before anyone says anything Nicky and Aaron slide over the two packets of crackers that she takes before looking at the empty packet in front of FF, “Just two?” She asks.

WHAT KIND OF CODE IS THIS?

“Just two.” Nicky says grabbing his trash and handing it over to her.

She shrugs, “Anything else on the menu I can get you boys?” She asks.

They all make their orders and Nicky, bravely, steps in to remind him he likes his burgers well done when the waitress asks.

“Sorry, I should have warned you.” Nicky laughs bumping his shoulder against FF’s “This place has this stuff called cracker dust, it gets you high but it’s not addictive.” He says.

Every single 80’s PSA goes off in FF’s head all at once.

NICKY “FLIPS TURTLES BACK ONTO THEIR FEET” HEMMICK DOES NOT LOOK LIKE HOW THE ‘JUST SAY NO’ ADS HAD SAID HE WOULD.

There’s not a trench coat! He wasn’t even wearing a hoodie with the hood up! There’s no sunglasses! Nicky had given him a baggie for his ulcer meds but IT WAS A SANDWICH BAG.

“I see.” He says out loud.

“Do you wanna try some.” Aaron asks. He double checks and yeah Aaron is still in the same club clothes he had left the house with. He has on a hoodie but the hood is down.

He does as any 80’s teen sitcom protagonist does by the end of the episode.

“No thank you.”

He thinks Mr. T would be happy that he said No. That ad had been especially nerve wracking as a kid when Mr. T ‘shakes some sense’ into the camera.

“Alright, no worries. Neil and Andrew don’t do any either.” Nicky says quickly.

The drugs come with the food and Nicky and Aaron pocket them before handing over cash to the waitress who just counts it right there. He focuses on digging into his burger and realizes it has jalapeños on it but Nicky volunteers to eat them with his nachos and lets the conversation weave around him as he polishes off his burger and takes his ulcer meds. “Oh cool, hand me the bag so I can keep our stuff in there.” Nicky makes a grabbing motion with his hands and FF just hands it over.

He zones out as he eats his fries. He wonders if Great Gran is upset watching him or if she’s happy that he said no to drugs. Maybe he should have said yes, then he could at least be blasted out of his mind when Andrew dragged him to the basement.

Well, it’s too late now.

The waitress comes and clears out their plates but picks up her notepad and pen again. “So, what ice cream do you boys want tonight?” She asks and looks straight at FF.

But FF is prepared.

Ice cream places are easy. His panic pick is a given, it’s Vanilla. Every ice cream joint has it so he barely even notices how his heart rate kicks up to 190 BPM and his palms grow instantly sweaty.

“Vanilla.”

“Sorry Hun, we’re fresh out.”

OH GOD. QUICK, SAY SOMETHING ELSE.

“Surprise me.”

NO YOU IDIOT SAY CHOCOLATE.

“Surprise you?”

RETRACT, IT’S NOT TOO LATE.

“Yeah. Surprise me.” He repeats and he can FEEL Nicky vibrating with laughter next to him.

“Alright Hun, I’ll surprise you.” She winks at him and he blinks back at her.

The rest of the table all order (They’re all normal people who order strawberry (neil), the special with chocolate (Nicky), Lemon Sorbet (Aaron), and Brownie Fudge (Andrew).

“Surprise me.” Nicky whispers to him.

“I panicked.” He whispers back.

“Yeah obviously.” Nicky snorts but pats him, “It’s fine. The worst is you might end up with Pistachio or something.” He pats FF on the back.

FF likes Pistachio and the world loves to make FF suffer.

“Here you go hun. We just got this in, it’s Mango.” She says setting down two scoops of a bright orange ice cream down in front of him, “With a little surprise.” She winks again as she sets the other ice cream down.

They all get started.

Why is the Ice Cream kind of spicy?

He eventually puzzles out that the waitress has served him a Mango and some kind of pepper (probably habanero) ice cream. She smiles when he thanks her for the surprise, tries not to let it show how much the spice is KILLING his stomach let alone the acid of the mango.

Andrew has his eyes narrowed on him and he’s sure the man doesn’t want him to make a scene at a place that seems to be a frequent haunt for the family. So he eats every last bite and ignores how his lips tingle.

“Ohhh it must have been good. Maybe we should get you her number.” Nicky says looking at his empty bowl.

“No, I’m good.” She was pretty but considering the acid currently swirling in his stomach she probably thought he was an asshole for asking for her to ‘surprise him’. Even if that wasn’t the case, what if she thought it’d be cute to serve him this spicy ice cream as a cute couple thing? His stomach can’t take that.

“Aw man you’re no fun.” Nicky pouts.

They pay for their meals and the waitress hands him his receipt with a wink. He nods back at her before shoving the receipt into his pocket next to the Megamind toy. “Have a good night.” He says.

“You too Hun.” She says.

They head out for Eden’s and in a way the ice cream is a blessing because his stomach hurts enough that he barely even notices his anxiety about being at the place where Andrew most certainly is going to stab him at least once by the end of the night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few  different mediums on this one so if I missed you I swear it wasn’t malicious I’m just brunch dumb at the moment. Remind me in the replies!

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you  didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[mxcnliight]

baby, can you meet me tonight in detention? (cyj)

Choi Yeonjun your longtime bully has finally had enough of your and puts your in your place, but the teacher catches you guys. so you get to sent to detention with him. when you’re all alone with him, what will happen? ♫ I can feel your blood pressure rise, fuck this tension ♫

Paring: Bully!Yeonjun x Fem!Reader

Theme: One shot; SMUT, PWP, fluff (?)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warings: sexual tension; dirty talk; degradation; swearing; breath play(?); oral sex (f receiving); p in v penetration; unprotected sex + creampie (use a CONDOM)

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You yawn as boredom hits you, waiting for your math class to start. You have never been good at math nor were you ever interested in it, so you always just hope the teacher won’t call on you. 

You look out the window and see the sun shining, it’s a nice day today. No rain or clouds! You know you have to do something after school, maybe go to the ice cream shop with your friends or get a tan by the pool. 

Whatever it is, you know, you just can’t waste a day like this. Suddenly, you hear a jingle, right on time. You look over, and see your bully, Choi Yeonjun, walk into the classroom. 

He wore his signature black leather jacket with a white undershirt paired with black pants and black boots. His crimson red hair catches attention, so everybody can tell it's Choi Yeonjun. 

His eyes meet yours as you hold eye contact until he sits down at his desk. Looking away, you roll your eyes and wonder what torture you’ll be experiencing today. 

From the time you were a freshman, Yeonjun was your designated bully. He would slam your locker in your face, throw paper airplanes at you with nasty words in them, make you trip, etc. 

You didn’t know why he was bullying you, but you found out one day and it was the stupidest thing ever. You became best friends with a girl named Yuna and the reason why Yeonjun was bullying you was because he had a crush on her and you were "taking her away from him".

It was so dumb that you wanted to punch him for his stupidity, but you never got the chance (or strength). When Yeonjun first started bullying you, you were frail and fragile. 

You didn’t know how to handle him, but now as a senior year in high school, you have gotten used to his antics. You know how to handle him and protect yourself from him. 

You thought he would have stopped years ago, but he told you, “I’m not stopping until either I get caught or you go and be a little bitch and tattle tale on me, got it?” You still remember the cold glare he gave you that day. 

You would have told the school counselor, but you just felt too guilty to. Speaking of feeling guilty. Another thing Yeonjun did to you was manipulate you, but you wonder after you both graduate what he’s going to do? 

He’s not going to have another doll to play around with, unless he still keeps in contact with you, and you hope to god he doesn’t. Just then you feel something hit your head as you look down at a paper airplane now in your lap. 

You give Yeonjun a disappointed look as he gestures for you to open it. Rolling your eyes, you open it and it reads ‘You look like a witch with that makeup on you, did you even try this morning?’ You look back up at Yeonjun and he's stupidly smirking now. 

You roll your eyes and scoff before crumpling the paper airplane into a ball and throwing it in the trash can. Not cool Choi. You cross your arms and look up at the board. 

“Wanna piece of gum?” You look over and see Yuna holding out a piece to you. You nod and take it into your mouth before chewing. “Thanks.” She hums as you both look back at the board. “Alright class… let’s get started, shall we?”

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Forty minutes later and class is finally done, thank god. You barely understood any of the material, so you know you’ll need Yuna to explain to you later when you get home. 

You look to your left and see Yuna putting her folder in her bag. “Hey, could you explain the notes to me tonight?” You ask her. “I would love to, but I have a cheer meeting after school” she frowns. 

“I can teach it to you during study hall before class tomorrow?” “Yeah that’s fine, thanks.” She nods and smiles at you as you smile back at her. You begin to gather your things when you jump in your seat from hands slamming down on your desk. 

You look up and see Yeonjun towering over you and you frown. “What do you want, Choi?” “Did you do my English homework?” You smirk and scoff at him before laughing. 

“What’s so funny bitch?” He asks as you deadpan him. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Yeonjun, does it look like I’m your little servant? No.'' You begin to sling your bag over your shoulder when Yeonjun suddenly chokes you as you widen your eyes. 

Your hands go over his neck trying to pry them off of your neck. “What’d you say to me, you little bitch?” He says in a dark tone, staring dead into your soul. “I-i’m not your little servant… bitch.” You say, stuttering as he becomes enraged. 

As he was about to do something, he was interrupted. “Choi Yeonjun and Y/N L/N!” You both look over at your teacher who is fuming with anger. “I will not be having this type of ruckus in my classroom! Detention for both of you!” Yeonjun’s hand leaves your neck as you both look at each other and sigh. 

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It felt like forever to walk to the principal's office because Yeonjun was staring at you the whole time. You’re now sitting outside the principal's office waiting for him to get done with Yeonjun. If he hadn’t started this, you wouldn’t be here right now. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms; this was not the time to do something Choi. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see a lady walking towards you. “Here’s an ice pack, sweetie.” Your eyes widen at her kind gesture as you take the ice pack.

You thanked her as she left. You then put the ice pack around your neck. Just then you hear the door open as you look to your left and Yeonjun comes out with the secretary. 

Yeonjun sits beside you as the secretary lady squats down to your level before taking off her glasses and rubbing her forehead.“Alright so we have come to the conclusion that Yeonjun was the person that was responsible for this ruckus, but you were still involved, Y/N, so I will need both of you to report to Mrs. Hans’ room after school, is that understood?” 

You both nod as she puts her glasses back on and gets up. “I will write both of you passes for your next class.” She goes back into her office while you turn your head to match Yeonjun’s deathly stare.

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Once the end of the day hits, you go straight to Mrs. Hans’ room, not wanting to be late. Once you arrive in her room, you see Yeonjun isn’t here yet, which isn’t a shocker. 

You make your way over to a desk and sit down. You then put your bag in your lap, waiting for the period to start. A minute before the bell rings, Yeonjun arrives, looking angry as ever. 

You see him take a seat only 2 desks away from yours. You look back at the board before getting your lip gloss from your bag and applying some to your lips. 

You then smack them before putting the lip gloss back into your bag. The bell rings as Mrs. Hans sighs. “Alright, since both of you are here now, we can start. Welcome to detention, Yeonjun is a regular here, so I’m not surprised, but for you Mrs. L/N, I’m rather disappointed.” She gives you a side eye as you look away. 

“Anyways, you all know the drill. Phones in the basket,” she says, holding out a small basket. You look over at Yeonjun, who is getting out his phone, and so do you. 

You both get up and put your phones in Mrs. Hans’ basket. Once you sit back down, you put your bag on the floor next to you. “Now, silence for the next forty-five minutes.” You see her open her book as you roll your eyes; this can’t get any better, can it. 

Minutes pass as you are extremely bored; you get so bored that you count the tiles on the ceiling. You occasionally sneak glances at Yeonjun, but he is just as bored as you are. He is just staring at his hand; you wondered what was on there. 

Just then you hear a teacher come by Mrs. Hans’ room. Mrs. Hans then looks over at the teacher, then back at us. She sighs before grabbing her keys. “I’ll be right back,” she says before leaving. 

That's easy, huh? Now it is just you and Yeonjun both sitting in silence. “Why do you have to be such a bitch?” You look over at Yeonjun, oh, he’s starting this now? “Oh, so I’m the bitch? Says the guy that has bullied me for four years straight,” you say, before rolling your eyes. 

“I wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t for you,” he replies. “Oh no Yeonjun. I wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t for your selfish, greedy, egotistical self! I have done nothing wrong, it’s all your fault, Yeonjun!” You raise your voice as you stare at him. 

He clenches his jaw and balls his hand into a fist. “No, it’s all you, Y/N. You’re the selfish egotistical bitch, you always have been!” “For what?! For taking your girlfriend?! If you really wanted her, you should have just asked her out!” He goes silent as you sigh until you suddenly get slammed into the desk next to you. 

You look up in confusion as Yeonjun wraps his hand tightly around your neck. “Who told you I liked that little bitch?” You look at him confused. “You do like her, don't you?” He then does something unexpected: he kisses you. 

Your eyes widen as he roughly makes out with you. You whimper, trying to pry Yeonjun’s hand from your neck because you can hardly breathe. He breaks the kiss and stares at you intensely. “I like you, you little brat” Your eyes widened; he did not just say that. 

“W-what?” You say as he flips you around and your hands meet the cold service of the desk. “Yeonjun, let’s talk about this-'' Just then he rips your patines off from underneath your dress and throws them away. 

He then wraps one of his hands around your mouth. “Be a good girl and keep quiet, okay?” He then removes his hand and goes down between your legs, holding them open. Your face heats up as you can feel his breath on your pussy. 

You whimper, “Y-yeonjun… what are you doing?” He then chuckles as his hands meet the sides of your thighs, “I want your slutty fucking pussy in my mouth.” You moan at his words. “But Yeonjun, we can’t… not here.” “Yes we can and you are going to give it to me.” 

You feel his tongue on your clit as you whimper; you put your hand around your mouth trying not to moan. He licks back and forth up your slit as you're trying so hard not to moan. 

He flattens his tongue on your clit and begins to kiss at it. You whimper a bit, but not too loud. You could get caught at any moment, but it feels so good. Along with him making out with your pussy. You’re still trying to process that Yeonjun apparently likes you. 

His tongue moves to your hole, slowly teasing it. “I want your fucking pussy cream on my tongue,” he demands as you moan at his words. He then slaps your thigh with his free hand and you let out a yelp. “What did I say about keeping quiet?” He growls as he begins to flick his tongue along your hole. You close your eyes in pleasure. 

“You like that?” He asks as you hum, still trying so hard not to moan. “This pussy’s fucking mine. I own it.” He growls as he starts to sloppily kiss your hole. You whimper at his words as he growls on your pussy. 

“Don’t you fucking cum yet,” he demands as he increases his tongue movements as you try not to moan. His fingers then move up to your clit, slowly circling around it, sending you more pleasure. 

“Yeonjun, please,” you cry out as you can feel him smirk. He moves two fingers to your hole and slowly pumps them inside as you moan. He continues to lick your pussy while his fingers are fucking in and out of your wet hole. 

“Shit… you feel that? My fingers in your pussy and tongue on your clit?” You whimper at his words as you nod. “I just want you to give in to me. Give it to me, yeah? Push your pussy in my fucking face.” You push your hips down a bit at him as you feel him growl at your pussy sending vibrations up your back. 

“Fuck baby, I need you inside of me.” He then gets up and puts his hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him before he kisses you. His hands sneak up your body to meet your clothed breasts, slowly massaging them. 

He then breaks the kiss and takes his pants off along with his boxers. You look back in anticipation for his cock to be inside you. “Fuck baby, are you ready?” You nod as he lifts your dress up with one hand and uses the other to slowly push his thick cock in.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you out. “So tight, only for me right?” “Mhm, all for you,” you say as he completely bottoms you out. You whimper at the feeling as his hands meet your hips. 

One of his hands reaches up and wraps around your mouth; again, he gets close to your ear and whispers. “Be quiet” Before he starts thrusting into you, you throw your head back in pleasure.

It feels so good, you have never felt anything like this before. “You’re mine, alright? Mine. Nobody’s else’s. You belong to Choi Yeonjun.” You moan into his hand as you feel tears in your eyes.

He then grunts out, “Oh fuck baby pussy’s so fucking good, who knew it would only take a dicking down for you to shut up?” You whimper at his words as his thrusts increase, pounding into you. 

It feels so good, yet you feel a wave of embarrassment hit you with Yeonjun fucking you in detention. “Mhm, fuck baby,” he lets out a low chuckle. “You’re going to be my dumb little bitch, hm? Gonna take all of my cum in your tight little pussy mhm?” He mumbles in your ear as your eyes close, you are so close to your orgasm. 

“Oh baby, you close? I can feel you fucking clench around me. You wanna cum hm?” he says as you nod vigorously, wanting to release the tension building up in your body. 

You feel Yeonjun smirk as he kisses your cheek. “Nobody's  stopping you Y/N. Cum for me.” His thrusts increase as you almost yell into his hand around your mouth as if it is so much pleasure. 

You then feel Yeonjun’s free hand move down to your clit, rubbing to the pace of his thrusts. “Come on baby. You don’t want to get caught, do you? So then fucking cum for me,” he growls into your ear. 

His words give you the final push, and your orgasm shoots through your body as your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Fuck yeah baby! Just like that, mhm, you’re going to make me cum too,” he says as he releases his hand from your mouth as you crash onto the desk while Yeonjun’s still trying to chase his orgasm. “Oh shit-“ He says as his cum shoots into your pussy, filling you right up.

You both try to catch your breath as you’re still lying lifeless on the desk. You feel Yeonjun slip out as he breathes heavily. “Who knew a brat like you had a good pussy?” You roll your eyes at his comments and turn around to kiss him. 

His thumb rubs on your jaw as you kiss. You break it and huff out at him, “I hate you.” He chuckles, “Says the one who just came on me.” You roll your eyes when you hear something as you both scramble to get your clothes on. 

You then return to your seats like normal as Mrs. Hans comes back in. “You two didn’t do anything while I was gone?” She asks as you look back at Yeonjun, then look back at her to nod. Once detention is done, you both finally get your phones back as you are about to walk out the door. Yeonjun stops you as you look back up at him in confusion. “Could I have your number, baby?”.

[tiramisuucakeee]

2. BUBBLES FOR BRAINS

( sea salt, yang jungwon )

the next morning, jungwon woke up early, the heavy scent of salt and dampness still lingering in the air. the storm had passed, but the damage was undeniably everywhere.

his grandfather had already made breakfast - eggs and toast with a side of salty bacon - and nodded toward the back door as he handed jungwon a plate. "go clean up the backyard after you're done eating. we can't leave it like this."

jungwon sighed, but nodded, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "yeah, i know." he leaned back, gazing at his duties from afar.

after finishing, he put his plate in the sink and headed outside. the backyard looked like a disaster zone. the storm had tossed everything around. there were pieces of driftwood, fishing nets, and plastic debris scattered everywhere. the air still felt thick and heavy, a leftover chill from the storm that made jungwon wish he’d grabbed a jacket.

his sandals squelched as he walked, the mud sticking to his soles with every step. a large piece of wood was wedged against the side of the house, and the yard was littered with broken bits of seaweed and algae. even the old wooden deck had warped slightly in places.

and let’s not talk about the pool, because if you were looking for an ocean copy, it was right here in the backyard.

jungwon grabbed a trash bag and started picking up the mess. it felt like a losing battle, the debris just kept coming. he winced as he saw a few fish washed up in the mud, struggling to breathe. he wasn’t great at dealing with this kind of thing, but there was no choice. his grandfather would send him to do something equally as disgusting.

as he picked up a large plastic bottle, he heard a voice. "hey, jungwon!"

he looked up and saw jay walking over, a lopsided grin on his face. "looks like the storm really wrecked the place."

jungwon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "yeah. shouldn’t you be cleaning at your house though?"

"there isn’t much to do, besides, my dad hired someone for it already.” jay stepped closer, picking up a fish from the mud and holding it up, its tail still flapping slightly. “well, hey, at least we’ve got some fresh fish for lunch," he said, smirking.

jungwon rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "get that thing away from me or leave," he pushed jay out of the way.

jay shrugged, tossing the fish back into the mud with a laugh. "why are you mad now? is it still because of eunj-."

jungwon turned to him before he could finish his sentence. “don’t even mention it, i’m serious, i’ll really ban you from ever coming here again.”

jay raised his hands in surrender. “i’m just saying, forget about her so we can have fun alright? it’s our last summer before we go back to the city to different universities and most probably won’t see each other,” he walked towards jungwon, who tied the bag securely, before grabbing a net to clean the pool.

"yeah, i know," jungwon nodded, his eyes still fixed on the dark water. his mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts he didn’t want to deal with right now.

jay observed him. this summer was supposed to be the one we’re jungwon finally confessed to his crush, but it all went downhill when he saw her days ago at a restaurant with the head lifeguard, holding hands.

jungwon had insisted on talking to her about his feelings anyway, but that hadn’t gone well either. to say the least, she hadn’t even remembered his name when he approached her. she’d laughed it off and humiliated him in front of her friends like it was nothing, and he’d walked away feeling smaller than ever.

jay shifted his weight, his gaze softening. "listen, won," he said quietly, "that little voice of hers inside your head? drown it, 'kay? don’t let her mess with your head like that."

jungwon’s shoulders slumped as he stared at the water. he didn’t say anything, but jay could tell he was still thinking about it. it was always easier to bury stuff than face it head-on, and jungwon was no exception.

jay clapped him on the shoulder, trying to break the silence. "we’ll go to the mall later. buy some stuff, get something to eat. it'll help, trust me." he gave him a small nudge, trying to pull him out of his thoughts.

jungwon finally looked up, giving jay a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "yeah. maybe," he muttered, and then his gaze went back to the water, the dark shape still moving beneath the surface.

"you gonna keep staring at that thing, or...?"

"uh..." jungwon hesitated, his attention split between the water and jay. "it's kinda... weird, right? like, what if it's still a shark? or something else?"

jay rolled his eyes playfully. "won, it's probably just a fish or something. or some junk that got caught in the current. but hey, if it is a shark, we’ve got… a cookie, right?" jay pulled a cookie out of his pocket and held it up with a grin. "i’m pretty sure sharks love cookies."

jungwon snorted "yeah, i’m sure they do."

jay rolled his eyes, and threw it inside the pool as bait. the two of them stared at the water for a few more seconds, waiting to see if the shape would move again. but then, just as suddenly as it had started, the movement stopped, leaving the water eerily still.

"guess it really was just some junk," jungwon muttered, his mood lightening ever so slightly.

"told you so," jay said, his grin widening. "or maybe it ate the cookie. you’ll never know." he laughed. punching jungwon playfully.

“i bet i know what it was.”

the two froze, slowly turning their heads towards the new voice at the other end of the pool, who definitely wasn’t there before.

"i should think it was a mermaid," you said casually, taking a delicate bite of the cookie in your hand, allowing the unfamiliar taste to linger on your tongue. with an elegant, almost imperceptible motion, you raised your tail just enough for them to see, its shimmering scales catching the sunlight.

the two looked dumbfounded, and one of them tried pinching themselves to see if they were dreaming. they definitely did not just see a beautiful mermaid on the edge of the pool.

you glided toward them with the fluid grace, the water parting around you as you dived in, sending a splash of water in all directions as your tail shined, glittering like a jewel beneath the surface.

jungwon moved closer to the edge of the pool, peering down into the murky water, though he couldn’t see anything through the cloudy, disturbed pool.

you then came out of the pool once again, stopping right in front of him. “please remain calm, do not scream or panic,” you softly said, remembering the words from a safety manual that had appeared at the bottom of the sea.

“uh huh…” the cat-eyed bot slowly nodded, looking pale. “y-you’re a-”

pursing your lips, you nodded, urging him to continue, but his breath got caught in his throat. “i see we will have to take this slow, i am a… mermaid…” you pronounced the word deliberately, allowing the weight of it to sink in, as your tail swayed gently in the water, catching the light. their eyes flickered between your face and the fin, unable to settle on either.

“okay, okay, okay, okay,” jungwon said, taking a deep breath, and gulped. “w-what are you doing, here?” he asked.

jay shot him a look, clearly not thinking it was the best idea to talk to you.

“very long story short, the storm,” you smiled. “but i bet you already knew about it, did you?”

“wait- you did that?! this?!” jay exclaimed, motioning at the whole mess with an incredulous face.

you shook your head, “no i did not, i would never do that. i was just… caught in it. right place at the wrong time, they say.”

the two were about two speak, but a voice interrupted. "jungwon! how’s the clean-up going, son?"

the boy named jungwon panicked, his eyes wide. before jungwon could respond, jay shot you a frantic look. "hide!" he whispered, pointing toward the water. "under the pool, now!"

you rolled your eyes but did as instructed, slipping gracefully back into the water with barely a ripple, your tail disappearing beneath the murky surface. they watched as you sank out of sight, and jay whispered to jungwon, "keep him busy. we can’t let him know about her or whatever that was."

jungwon nodded quickly, rushing toward the trash he picked up. "yeah, yeah, i’m coming!" he called, trying to sound normal. "just, uh, a little slow with the clean-up... give me a minute!"

but jungwon’s grandfather came out of the house, and started scanning the area. “hm… good. make sure it’s all cleared up before lunch." with a grunt, he turned to jay and gave him a nod. "hey, jay. good to see you, kid. your folks doing alright?"

jay gave a quick nod in return. "yeah, they’re good. thanks, sir."

with that, jungwon’s grandfather turned and started heading back toward the house, grumbling something about checking the garage door. "remember," he called over his shoulder, "don’t leave any mess around here."

as soon as his grandfather was inside, jungwon let out a deep breath, turning to jay with wide eyes. "that was close," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "he was about to catch us, for sure."

jay laughed quietly. "man, you’ve got to learn to relax. no one’s gonna find out anything if you stop panicking."

jungwon sighed, glancing back at the pool. "yeah, but... this whole thing is crazy. what now? how are we supposed to explain..." his voice trailed off as he thought about you still lingering nearby, but there was no movement in the pool.

"uh... where'd she go..?" jungwon dropped the bags of trash, looking around in confusion.

just then, they heard a soft voice, faint but unmistakable, coming from the direction of the shed. "hey, jungwon and jay, was it?"

both of them froze, turning to the small shed at the far edge of the yard. the door was half-closed, and they could see a shadow moving behind the small window. it was you, walking around.

"you’re in there?" jungwon said, stepping closer, eyes wide. "what are you even doing in there?"

"it is... complicated," you replied, your voice carrying through the still air. "but i could use some help." there was a pause, then you added, "this is a bit embarrassing."

jay glanced at jungwon with a raised eyebrow. "you gonna let her just stay in there?"

jungwon bit his lip, hesitating for a moment, but then nodded. "we have to help. it’s... not like we have a choice." he walked toward the shed and slowly opened the small window at the top. as it creaked open, the view through the glass made both of them freeze in their tracks.

you were inside, submerged to the waist in the shed's shadow, but your upper half was bare, covered by your now-dry hair. both boys stared at you, wide-eyed.

"uh... you... you’re not wearing anything," jungwon stammered, his face turning a deep shade of red.

you looked up at them through the window, an amused glint in your eyes. "well, it just so happens mermaids do not need dry clothes, or clothes at all," you said with a smirk. "i prefer not to be seen like this, so could you help me out?"

both boys stood still for a moment, unsure of what to say. finally, jungwon shook himself from his trance. "there should be some of my old clothes from surf camp in there. you can look around... maybe something will fit."

you nodded, disappearing into the shadows of the shed. "i will be quick."

moments later, you reappeared outside, now dressed in a long-sleeved aquamarine shirt that hung just above your knees. the fabric shimmered faintly in the sunlight as you stepped out, looking a bit more at ease but still carrying an air of quiet grace.

"better?" you asked, turning to face them with a raised eyebrow.

jungwon let out a quiet breath, clearly relieved. "yeah... but uh, the sleeves..."

“what are sleeves?” you asked, looking down at the dress, not knowing what the two were talking about.

“the- uh, the things- hold on…” jungwon stammered, and then walked over to you. he gently grabbed the sleeves of the shirt and, with careful hands, tied them behind your neck, avoiding any contact. he was still cautious, unsure of what might happen if he touched you directly. "that’s much better," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

you smiled, watching him retreat back to jay. "well, thank you, you."

“it’s… nothing…” he whispered awkwardly.

you gave a small turn, still getting used to having human legs and walking around. it was awkward at first, but not as difficult as you had expected. the sensation of standing upright on two legs was strange, but you adapted quickly.

jay nudged him playfully, trying to mask his own embarrassment. "well, it’s definitely an upgrade."

jungwon sighed, glancing around the backyard, eyes flicking nervously toward the house. "yeah, but... we need to hide her, somehow."

!

but that was the first thing they didn’t do. and you three were at a place called ‘mall’ searching for clothes.

“this is ridiculous,” jay groaned, rolling his eyes.

never in a million years did he imagine he’d be wandering around a mall in summer with his best friend, trailing a mermaid who could somehow turn human.

you wore sandals too big for your feet, courtesy of jungwon. you had learned that the pool you ended up in was his, in his beach house.

he seemed kind, kind enough to let you use his money.

and so you were jumping from store to store, still not knowing what to buy. you could offer him gold in return or even pearls, but you doubted it would be the same value to him as the little plastic thing he used to pay for things.

“are you going to pick something?” jay spoke. “you both have bought useless things and i’m hungry.”

you and jungwon both turned to him, your chat being interrupted by jay.

“yeah, seriously, we need to get you some clothes until you figure out what to do or where to go.” jungwon nodded, looking at you.

“but the clothes you wear appear rather uncomfortable. is there not something more befitting?” you inquired.

“yeah, there’s the women’s section… why have you been looking at men’s clothing?” jay asked, his brows furrowing in curiosity.

“i’m looking at the clothes that look like the ones you have on,” you trailed off, going into another store.

three hours and many fashion shows later, you took a couple of things, something’s they called dresses, shoes and clothes from a store they refused to go inside with you, apparently it was something you wore under the clothes. it seemed unnecessary to you, but they knew more about humans that you.

jungwon and jay were carrying all the bags, as you stepped out of the mall, letting the summer breeze hit your face, a new sensation you were dying to feel everyday for the rest of your life.

the place was so calming, as palm trees swayed from left to right, the air carrying the smell of something sweet and hundreds of flowers decorating the whole place.

you didn’t miss the ocean at all, the human world was much more interesting, they had machines they drove around in, and a device they used to call each other, similar to a conch.

“is that good?” jungwon asked, taking you out of your trance, and making you glance down to the drink he had gotten for you.

you brightened, sipping from the straw again. the sweet flavor danced on your tongue. “it is so, so, so good! i mean, i do not know what a lychee is, but i think i love it,” you smiled.

it felt strange to have someone from the opposite gender genuinely ask about you. the only person who had ever done that was the eccentric old merman living on the outskirts of the kingdom, but that didn’t really count.

jungwon looked like he was actually interested in your responses, and he truly was. he doubted he’d ever see a mermaid again, and go to the mall with her, just like he’d do with any of his friends.

he smiled so warmly at you, and laugh at every thing you pronounced wrong, then correcting you.

a loud honk then came your way. as a white machine stopped right in front of your three, some girls sitting in it, with objects covering their eyes.

you didn’t know why they did that, until you tried to look at the sun yourself, and almost got blinded.

the girl who was behind the round object that drove the car took them off, and looked at your new friend, jungwon, up and down, then at you at jay.

the girl behind the wheel removed her sunglasses and gave jungwon a once-over, then turned her gaze to you. “is this your girlfriend now, yang jungwon?” she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm, making you sense she wasn’t being friendly.

“what do you want, eunji?” jungwon replied, stepping in front of you as if to shield you from her. “you can’t possibly humiliate me more.”

“i just can’t believe how insensible you are! you just confessed your love to me days ago and now you’re running around with some other girl, huh?” she said, getting out of the white car, strutting over to the group.

eunji was the classic mean girl, always ready to ruin your summer. she wore tiny heels and even shorter shorts, pulling off the look with an effortless confidence that only added to her intimidation.

“eunji, leave her alone,” jay warned, pushing you behind him.

but eunji seemed unfazed by the fact that jungwon could like someone else, she was only fixated on how stunning you were, compared to her. “who even are you?” she sneered, invading your space. you didn’t step back.

you had no idea this was how an angry human looked like, or a jealous one of it is. if anything, you were curious about her and why she acted the way she did.

“my name is y/n, princess of aq-" you stopped yourself forgetting you were supposed to be a normal human, “i meant, my name is y/n aqualis, full name. it is a great pleasure, and you are?” you placed your hand in front of her, expecting to do something called a handshake.

“ew, get your paw away from me,” she said, swatting your hand aside. “who do you think you are, talking all high and mighty?” she snorted.

“excuse me?” you let out a laugh, “i am afraid i do not understand, paw?” you asked, truly clueless.

jay and jungwon, who were watching from the side, still carrying all of your bags, looked terrified at the scene, they knew that it never ended well when other girls crossed eunji, but you seemed like someone who wouldn’t understand if they told you to leave it.

“yeah, that’s right, some advice your you, never touch me with that dirty paws of yours, princess,” she spat, shoving you back, as her friends laughed behind in the car.

you gasped and blinked in confusion, then understanding she was referring to your hand, most probably, and also understood she was insulting you.

but you never let it go when mermaids spoke to you like this, so you wouldn’t let a human, who didn’t even know you, treat you and your new human friends this way.

you nodded at her, faking innocent, and spoke, “i know not why your head if so full of bubbles that the only entertainment you have is to try to make fun of others, but some advice for you, eun-ji…” you then took a sip of your lychee drink, and spat it at her.

her friends all gasped, as the water made contact with her shirt, leaving a huge wet spot, most likely ruining it.

jungwon and jay gapped, stunned at what you pulled of, expecting anything but that.

eunji nearly lost it, screaming as she jumped into the car and sped away with her friends. leaving you waving goodbye, and still wondering however did a car worked.

the two boys approached cautiously, clearly afraid to say anything that might earn them a splash of lychee drink. so you broke the silence first.

“you confessed your love to... that?” you asked jungwon, your face scrunched in confusion. “that human must have seaweed in her head, or maybe a crab controlling her brain. crabs can be pretty mean…” you pouted.

before, whenever spoke of eunji, ill or good, he’d always daydream about her, but right at the second, his attention was on you, and he was anything but mad.

“yeah, i think i did. crazy, right?” he laughed, and for the first time, he had denied eunji.

“i think that’s enough eunji for you both, i want some ice-cream so we’re leaving before that drink gets in someone else’s shirt,” jay stepped in, dragging the two of you away along the sidewalk to head back home, as you and jungwon laughed along at what had happened moments before.

TAGS: @jwonistic @garrdenwon @laylasbunbunny

EXTRA:

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[rainbow-nerdss]

Routine

Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 6: Domestic Buddie, 1.3k AO3 link

"Hey, could you grab an apple for his lunch?" Eddie asked, before shoving a slice of toast in his mouth. He caught the apple Buck tossed his way without hesitation, adding it to Chris's lunch box.

"Chris, you've got five minutes!" Buck called in the general direction of Chris's room.

"Five? I thought we had at least ten?" Eddie looked at his watch, frantic.

"We do, but if I tell him he has five, he'll be ready in eight." Buck shrugs, taking a bite out of another apple.

"Well played," Eddie narrows his eyes, suspicious.

"I figured, since it works on you…" Buch grins.

"I am very punctual," Eddie grumbles. He finishes his coffee and checks Chris's backpack again, making sure he has everything he needs, just as Chris finally emerges from his room. Eddie passes the bag off, and Chris unpacks it, putting everything back in one at a time. 

"Dad, can I bring a—" 

Eddie takes a chocolate bar from the cabinet and holds it out for Chris to take. He rolls his eyes, exchanges a look with Buck, who's grinning behind his own coffee mug.

"Alright, buddy, ready to hit the road?" Buck stands up and claps his hand together. He had volunteered to be a chaperone for the field trip, a job Eddie was fairly happy to pass over — he loved his own kid, but being responsible for a half dozen other twelve year olds sounded like a nightmare — at a natural history museum no less, where there would be creepy dead animals with beady glass eyes staring and— nope, he wasn't going there. That was Buck's area of interest, so Eddie happily agreed to stay home.

Buck's excited though, Eddie can see it in his face as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.

"Bye, dad!" Chris shouts, heading out the front door without so much as a backwards glance.

"Bye, Chris! Be safe!"

Eddie walks to the door, a smile tugging at his lips at the kid's enthusiasm.

Buck meets him at the door. "I've got him, Eddie."

"I know you do. Have fun, okay?"

Buck snorts, like there was ever any question about him enjoying this.

Eddie reaches out, rests a hand on the side of Buck's face, and pulls him in for a kiss.

A peck on the lips, nothing more.

Chris calls, and Buck rushes after him to the car.

They drive away, and Eddie is still frozen in the doorway.

He kissed Buck. His best friend in the world. He kissed him. Like that's normal. Like they do it every morning.

Like a happily married couple, following their mór omg routine with Buck bringing their kid to school while Eddie stays home and looks after the house.

Eddie kissed Buck, and Buck just—

Had he kissed Eddie back? There wasn't really time, Eddie can't remember.

He stands there till the mail comes, and then he closes the door, standing in the silence of the house for long enough that he wonders if he'd just imagined it.

Then he goes to the kitchen,sees the remnants of proof that it had happened. The residual mess from breakfast, Buck's coffee cup and the core of an apple at the top of the trash.

Buck hadn't said anything. Eddie plays the moment over and over in his head all day as he cleans the house from top to bottom.

Cleaning the breakfast dishes, the Buck in his head looks shocked at the kiss.

Folding laundry: Could he have been happy? Excited, even, for something other than the museum?

Making himself lunch: Maybe Buck had been upset, maybe he was glad for the excuse to run away, maybe Eddie ruined everything.

He hears nothing from Buck all day. No calls, no texts, no selfies of him with a dinosaur skeleton.

Eddie mops, and he dusts, and he organises his fucking closet just for something to do. 

The clock ticks by, and right after five in the evening, he hears Buck's Jeep pull up. The door opening, Chris coming in. 

He hears every detail about the museum, the things he learned, the fact that Stephanie J got in trouble for trying to touch one of the displays.

Eddie listens to every word. He hears Buck suggest takeout for dinner, and feels himself nod. 

Chris disappears to his room.

"There's clean laundry on your bed, it better be put away by dinner!" Eddie calls after him.

Then he looks at Buck.

Buck, who's frowning. Brow pinched, eyes narrowed on Eddie.

Eddie braces himself.

Buck sits down, right beside him on the couch.

"Good day?" Eddie asks.

"Pretty good," Buck says. "Didn't really see much of the exhibits, you know?"

"Kids keep you occupied?" 

Is this it? They'll just act like nothing happened? Honestly, as these things go, Eddie thinks it might be the best course of action. He can't take it back, doesn't think he wants to take it back, but pretending it didn't happen is preferable than sitting through a rejection, so—

"Not so much the kids," Buck says, and then there's a hand on either side of Eddie's face, and he's being kissed.

Not just a peck, either: a full blown kiss. Buck is kissing him, and it takes Eddie the better part of a minute to get with the program and start kissing him back. He presses forward, all but climbing into Buck's lap.

Their lips part, but neither of them are in any hurry to put any further distance between them.

"Did you mean to kiss me this morning?" Buck asks. Eddie shakes his head.

"I didn't even realise I had until you were driving away. It just felt—"

"Natural?" Buck suggests. Eddie nods, their noses bumping.

"Yeah. Like it was something we always did."

"I sort of felt that too. Didn't realise till we were on the bus, and by then…"

"I know."

"Do you… do you want it?"

"Want what?" Eddie looks at Buck, so close, close enough to kiss again, but Eddie needs to hear this first, needs to know where Buck's head is.

"Do you want it to be something we always do?" Buck asks.

Eddie laughs quietly and presses a kiss to Buck's lips. "Absolutely."

"Good, because I'm not going to be able to stop now I've started."

Buck pulls Eddie close, and they don't part until the doorbell rings, and Eddie has to get up to pay for the pizza and call Chris for dinner, while Buck goes to make sure his laundry has been put away.

Buck doesn't go home that night, or the one after. They kiss goodbye at the door when he finally has to leave, to pick up a change of clothes for their next shift.

This time, it's on purpose, though it feels no less natural.

"So are you guys, like, dating now?" Chris asks, startling Eddie from where he's staring at the empty spot where Buck's keys had been.

"Uh…" Eddie stammers. "How would you feel about that?" He asks. He braces himself for Chris's reaction, kicking himself for not being more subtle, or maybe for not telling him immediately.

Chris shrugs. "Not many chaperones on school trips are dad's best friend. Most of the kids and teachers at school assumed he was my stepdad anyway. It's fine by me, as long as you're both happy."

"We are," Eddie promises.

"Cool. Are there any pop tarts left?" Chris wanders into the kitchen, conversation over.

Eddie stares after him. "Second shelf, behind Buck's protein bars."

"Thanks!"

Eddie hears the sound of things being pushed aside in the pantry, then the toaster, and Chris moving around in the kitchen.

Well, that was that, then.

Eddie had better get ready for work before Carla arrived to take Chris to school.

Work, where he'd see Buck again. Where they'd greet each other with a kiss before they walked inside.

Just a peck on the lips, a quick good morning. Because that was normal. It was something they did, and something they would keep doing.

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Love and The Lack of Ass (modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aegon expresses his feelings over your very apparent thirst for Miguel O’Hara in the most Aegon way possible: sulking. 

Warnings: Nothing of note, except for excessive thirsting over Miguel O’Hara 

Word Count: 1.6K 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: You guys deserve something fluffy after my last Aemond one shot 💗 also, I’m thinking of writing some HOTD one shots based off different Barbie movies. Would anyone be up for that? 

The sound of footsteps on tiles and laughter echoed throughout the otherwise silent apartment block. “Okay, I gotta admit,” Aegon said, while teetering under the weight of two Hawaiian pizza boxes, a few boxes of chicken wings and fries, and some bottles of beer they bought from the convenience store, as you fumbled for the keys in your bag. “That it was a pretty kick ass movie. Although I still prefer the other Spiderman movies.” 

You gasp, kicking open the door to your apartment, “Aegon I don’t know what your middle name is Targaryen, you take that back right now.” 

“Middle name is Sexyman, gorgeous,” Aegon winked, although he shrieked and quickly ran inside the apartment the both of you shared when you began whacking him with your bag. “This is assault, and I’m calling my lawyer!” Aegon called across his shoulder as he sat down the bags that he was carrying on your dining table. 

“Well, I’m telling your lawyer you deserved it,” you declared, crossing your arms as you gave him a vicious glare. Sunfyre, Aegon’s large goldendoodle, sniffed eagerly at the delicious smell emanating from the pizza and chicken wings, but Aegon shooed him away. “How dare you say that Tom Holland’s Spiderman movies are better than the Spiderverse movies? I ought to break up with you.” 

“Hey, I have a man crush on Jake Gyllenhaal, alright? Can you not shame me for my sexual preferences?” Aegon huffed, but he backed away squealing when you tried to jab him in the ribs. Sunfyre barked excitedly and leaped at Aegon, seeming to think it was a new game. “Woman! Now you’ve turned my dog against me too?! What kind of world is this?” 

 “A very fair one,” you said smugly, reaching to scratch Sunfyre behind the ears. “You see, even your dog is telling you you have bad taste.” 

“Hey, don’t act like you didn’t like this movie solely because of Miguel O’Hara,” Aegon protested, backing away to their bedroom for safety purposes. “Who are you to judge me for my man crush?” 

“That’s because Jake Gyllenhaal is an awful piece of trash who groomed Taylor Swift,” you huffed. “And can you blame me? Miguel O’Hara is so-” you mimed swooning from all the hotness as Aegon rolled his eyes. “Like goddamn, take one look at his strong, hulking build and tell me you don’t feel things!” you demanded. Aegon rolled his eyes again, with such strength it was a wonder they didn’t tumble to another dimension. “Sorry, love, I’m not into muscles.” 

“Well, I am,” you declared, hands on your hips. “And don’t even get me started on his asscheeks. Boy if I could-” 

“LA LA LA LA CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Aegon yelled, stuffing his fingers into his ears as he made a swift retreat to your bedroom. Sighing in relief as he shut the door to your bedroom, he quickly changed out of his leather jacket and white shirt into a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and flexed, smirking at his own reflection. Damn, I’m hot, he thought to himself, turning to get a glimpse of his side angle. But his smirk faded into a frown as he examined his reflection to look at his own…well, rather flat, behind. Remembering your earlier comments about liking men with muscles, he tried flexing his arms, but they seemed quite pathetic in comparison to Miguel O’Hara’s. 

He felt annoyance beginning to rise in him, ‘Damn it, I’m Aegon Targaryen, the hottest guy in King’s Landing University! Every single guy wishes they could be me! How am I getting insecure over some 2D character?’ But then he heard you squealing from the living room while being on a phonecall, no doubt with one of your friends, “I KNOW RIGHT! Miguel is LITERALLY my dream man. I mean, take one look at those muscles and that ass and my god did you see his fangs-” 

Unable to hear anymore, Aegon flung open the door to your bedroom, dramatically stomping to your living room, and curled up on the couch, pouting as he turned on the TV. You frowned a little as you moved around your kitchen, laying out your dinner while you reheated the pizza in the oven. Your best friend, Baela, was still babbling in your ear about the Spiderverse movie, specifically about some very explicit things she would like to do to Miguel O’Hara and Spider-Gwen, but you were no longer paying attention. 

“Baela, babe, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You hung up, just as the oven emitted a ‘ping!’, signalling that the pizza was done. But that could wait. You made your way to your couch, catching sight of Aegon curling up on the couch, a cushion in his arms and a pout on his face as he browsed through the selections on your streaming channel. You nearly giggled at how adorable he was. Was he bothered by your earlier thirsty comments about Miguel? You knew how sensitive your boyfriend could be at times. Suddenly, a lightbulb shone in your head, and you grinned maliciously to yourself as a plan began to hatch in your brain. 

Aegon yelped when a figure leaped onto him, dropping the remote on the floor with a loud clatter. Sunfyre came up to the couch, barking excitedly, as Aegon tried kicking at his girlfriend, though in vain. “Woman! What are you doing?!” 

“Showering you with my love, of course,” you declared, as you planted loud kisses on Aegon’s face. Laughing and somewhat screaming, Aegon tried to wrestle back control so he was on top again, but you weren’t letting that happen, not on your watch. “Are you upset about my earlier comments about Miguel?” Aegon immediately stopped struggling, instead pushing his girlfriend away and scooching to the far end of the couch, resuming his despondent pouting. You wanted to let out an “awww” at how cute your boyfriend was acting, but you knew now was not the time. 

Aegon felt arms wrap around him and soft kisses on his neck, but he didn’t budge as he continued to turn his head away and pout. “Why don’t you go and find muscular Miguel instead? He would be better to cuddle with than me,” Aegon grumbled. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Aegon’s blatant display of jealousy. “Oh, my love, you know that it was all just talk right? You’re still the one I love most,” you teased, running a hand through his gorgeous white blonde hair. “It doesn’t really seem like it,” Aegon grouched. 

You were about to make a snarky comment, but you caught the faintest hint of hurt in his voice, and your expression softened. Aegon might seem childish, but after being his girlfriend for nearly two years, you were sensitive to his every mood change, and how insecure he could be despite his cocky, confident front. You knew Aegon had a rocky childhood and struggled with the concept of commitment and love, and his fears of you leaving him when you decided you had enough of him one day. Biting your bottom softly, you moved to embrace him, resting your head on his shoulder as you spoke sweetly, “Aegon…you know you’ll forever be the only one for me right? Even though I behave like a horny, thirsty teenager sometimes, I want you to know, I love you the way you are. And Miguel O’Hara’s muscles will never get in the way of that.” 

Aegon was quiet for a while, and you were worried that he was really hurt this time, but then he mumbled, “...even if I don’t have any asscheeks?” You laughed, tilting his head to face yours again, and your heart melted at the sight of his soulful purple eyes. “Yes, even if you don’t have any asscheeks. I’m not that fond of big butts anyway, yours is just nice.” 

Aegon brightened immediately, abruptly leaning in to kiss you. The both of you made out on your couch for a while, tangling your hands in each other’s hair and moaning quietly. You were interrupted however, by Sunfyre’s bark and him scrambling on the couch to get it on the “group cuddle”. 

“Damn, can’t a man not be cockblocked by his pooch for a moment?” Aegon grumbled as you both broke away from your kiss, grinning breathlessly at each other. Sunfyre stood on his hind paws to try and climb over you to Aegon’s lap, and you chuckled, “Apparently not. I think he’s telling us he’s hungry.” 

“Yes, for my attention,” Aegon said smugly as Sunfyre successfully managed to clamber over you and into Aegon’s lap. He scratched Sunfyre behind his ears and smiled, forgetting why he was even upset in the first place. “Looks like you’re not that unhappy anymore,” you noted with a smile. Aegon immediately tried to look pouty again, though since his heart was not in it anymore it just made him look impish instead of mournful. “Noooo that’s not true, I’m still in need of comfort. And a kiss,” he tried to move in for a kiss again, but you flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!” he cried out indignantly, but you soothed his complaints by leaning in to plant a quick peck on his cheek. “Let’s have dinner first, then you can have all the kisses you want in bed later.” Aegon grinned, and moved to shove Sunfyre off his lap, ignoring the large dog’s whine. “I’ll hold you to that, my love!” he called out as he bounded over to the kitchen to take the pizza out of the oven. 

You chuckled as you followed after him, Sunfyre begging at your feet for scraps. Screw Miguel and his muscles, who needs him when you have your own loveable little dork right here?

can someone tell me what level of thirst is considered unhealthy because i don’t think me and my friends know anymore. 

as always, let me know how you thought of this one shot in the comments and through reblogs! if you wish to be added to an aegon taglist, or any taglist for other HOTD characters, do comment down below! thank you for reading! 💗

[ddejavvu]

hi lovely, i’ve been throwing up all morning and i was wondering if you could do something about aaron hotchner comforting the reader while sick w the stomach bug?

sending lots of love ❤️❤️

cw // being sick/throwing up/mentions of vomit

Throwing up in Aaron's car has to be the worst thing you've ever done. And it's worsened by the fact that, with nowhere to puke, he'd shoved his work bag into your lap. Your vomit is currently soaking into his paperwork, the fine leather of the bag surely ruined for good.

"Aaron," You choke, mouth rancid and throat burning, "I'm- I'm sorry!"

"it's alright," He soothes, glancing over at you as he stops at a red light, "Are you okay, honey? I'm not mad."

He knows exactly what you need to hear, of course.

"You should be," You groan, taking the pocket square that he hands you and wiping at your mouth, "I threw up in your- bag!"

At the sound of your gagging he pulls over, blinker clicking as his tires screech slightly against the tarmac of a parking lot. It's taco bell, and your stomach churns at the thought of a bean burrito.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and ignoring the residue on it, "We're five minutes from home. Can you make it, or should we wait?"

"I don't know!" You wail, and you feel like a petulant toddler, tears streaming down your cheeks from the pain and discomfort swirling inside of you, "I- I feel sick but-" Another gag, and he scoops your hair off of your neck, "But I just wanna be in bed, so- so we should just go.. But-!"

"I think," Aaron croons, scraping his nails up your neck, "We should wait. Just five minutes, and you can lay the seat back so that you're laying down. You can have my jacket for a blanket," He twists himself uncomfortably in his seat to shed it, taking his sick-soaked work bag and tucking it beneath the center console, "And we'll just rest, okay?"

"Okay," You nod, sobs thickening your words and making them fragile like a bubble about to burst, "I'm really- really sorry I threw up in your bag."

"I put my bag in your lap so that you could throw up in it," He lets out a fond chuckle, leaning over to kiss your forehead before taking the bag outside to empty into a trash can, "It's okay, sweetheart. I can get a new bag."

You think he's the bravest man in the world for kissing you right after you'd thrown up. It's not like he jammed his tongue into your mouth, but you know you smell like a toxic waste container, so when he ducks back into the car with a stinky, now empty bag and leans over to do it again, you sniffle.

"Thanks, Aaron." You tuck your face into his jacket, leaving your cheek on display in case he feels like smushing another kiss into the chub there, "'Love you."

"Love you too," He rubs a hand up your thigh, squeezing it soothingly and smoothing out a wrinkle in his coat as it's draped over your shoulders, "I'll tell everyone we're taking the week off. Garcia will probably try to bring soup over, you know."

"Let her," You plead, "Your soup is pathetic."

"Hey!" He chuckles incredulously, "I'm sorry that we can't all be, I dunno, soup wizards."

"You're the worst soup wizard in the world," Your groggy, post-adrenaline rush brain conjures of images of Aaron in long robes in front of a cauldron, the terrible meal boiling over and splashing the hem of his outfit, "You'd get kicked out of soup wizard school."

Aaron doesn't respond, and you don't blame him. You're too dazed to hold a meaningful conversation, so you let yourself drift off to sleep after you're sure he won't protest your proclamations of his culinary deficiencies.

He refrains from laughing at you, sorry to do so while you're sick. The message that he types out to the team's group chat is short and to-the-point like his always are, Y/N's got a stomach bug. We won't be in for a few days. Penelope, get your magic wand out, she wants a soup wizard.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Almonds

Pairing: Abby Anderson x reader

Warnings: I can't think of any, lmk if I missed one.

Summary: Abby shares the last bit of her food with you when times get tough.

*Not Proof Read*

This one isn't my fav guys.

ABC List TLOU Masterlist

*****

" Are you sure the QZ is up here? " I ask, shivers running down my spine. I shrink into my dirt covered jacket, seeking any sort of warmth. My legs ache, a mixture of the cold and the distance. My feet more and more frozen with each step.

" It should be. " Abby shouts over the raging wind.

For a moment, I think I hear doubt in her voice. It could be the wind though. I'm not sure.

Her eyes are the only things visible on her face, everything else covered by a snow covered scarf. She covers her eyes, trying to see through the blinding white. " Fuck. " She seethes, frustration sizzling off of her tense body. She turns to face me. " I-I don't fucking know where we're going. I can't see anything. I think we need to find shelter until this storm clears up. "

Her voice is mumbled and her barely visible eyes avoid mine. Like she's embarrassed of possibly leading me wrong.

" I agree. " I nod stiffly. " I'm freezing my ass off. " I look around us, trying to see anything that could keep us safe. " Over there! " I point a blurry dark object a few feet away. " I think that might be a building. "

I grab ahold of Abby's arm, dragging her in the direction of the object. As we grow closer, the object becomes more clear. It's a wall. With Abby's arm still tightly secure in my left hand, I plant my other hand against the wall. Carefully, we follow the wall further down the street.

Finally we stumble across a faded door.

I try opening it.

Of course it's stuck. I let out frustrated groan.

" Let me get it. " Abby gently pushes me out of the way. She pulls a small tin box out of her bag. She quickly takes off her gloves before moving closer to the door. She takes out a few tiny tools, wiggling them around in the key hole. She twists the door handle and the door swings open from the force of the wind.

Abby moves to the side, letting me get inside before closing the door tightly behind her.

As soon as the door is closed, the noise dies down. I turn on my flashlight, also pulling out my knife in case something is in here.

Abby gestures at me to search the left side of the abandoned shop while she goes right.

The store is ransacked. I'm not sure how they got in here, but it's completely trashed. Clothes are spilled all over the floor along with shards of glass and mysterious stains.

Thankfully the store is clear.

I feel my shoulders start to relax as I walk back the direction I came from.

Abby sits in the corner of the shop. Abby is hidden from the window by a few racks of clothes. Her pack is against the dusty wall, her bottle of water leaning against it.

The room is mostly dark, the only light coming from a few windows on the other side of the shop. I take a seat next to Abby, trying to warm my pain filled hands.

Abby sets a thick, fluffy jacket on my lap. " Found this for you. " She mutters.

I send her a grateful smile. " Thank you. " I pull the coat on top of my other jacket, zipping it up the best I can. Before I can think about it, my stomach lets out an angry growl.

I pull open my wet backpack, shuffling the contents around. I pull out a small clear package. Empty.

I was hoping we would get to the QZ by now. Looks like I'm gonna have to wait until tomorrow. Hopefully we can get out of here soon.

" You hungry? " Abby's voice cuts through the air.

I turn towards the muscular woman. " Uh-Yeah. It's alright though, I'm sure we'll find something soon. " I say, mostly trying to comfort myself.

Abby pulls out a small blue package. It's folded neatly so the contents don't spill. When she opens it up, the words 'Blue Diamond' are revealed. " Here, take a few. " She offers.

I shake my head. " I can't take your food, Abs. " I should've rationed better, this is my fault. " I'll be fine. We'll get food soon. " I gently push her hand away.

Abby insists. " Please, just take some. You're right, we'll find more soon. That's why it doesn't matter if I save it all. " She grabs my hand, sending a fluttering sensation through my stomach.

Abby drops a handful of almonds into my palm. " Eat. Please. "

Her eyes show a hint of worry.

" Are you sure? " I ask, feeling guilty about taking her food.

" Yes, " She nods. " I've never been so sure. Eat. "

Abby watches as I place an almond in my mouth, savoring the salty flavor.

Abby pops an almond into her mouth, leaning against the wall next to me. For a few minutes we sit in silence. The sound of howling wind pounds against the windows.

" Thank you, again, Abby. " I look at the woman.

" Of course. Anything for you, "