#as far as sirens go hes pretty well adjusted

[llamagoddessofficial]

Thank you @aizawasluckylady for this commission!! I love this twist on Siren Red. What's the twist? Well... you'll have to read to find out <3

---

“Mom. I made a new friend.”

You looked up from your meal. Your daughter was picking out her greens, as any seven year old would. But you were so taken aback by her statement that, for once, you didn’t think to mention it.

... You put your fork down. “Oh. You... did?”

Another parent would’ve been less shocked, for certain- probably not even shocked at all. But you had a good reason to be so confused. 

She nodded with the confidence only a child could have. “I met him near the beach.”

Near the beach?

You and your daughter lived in a very small coastal village built across an island. Though the island was certainly well within the reach of the mainland (swimming distance, at low tide it was barely worth getting the boats out of the harbour) the community was cut off, and incredibly tight-knit. It was the kind of place where nothing happened, and everyone knew everyone. 

There were only a handful of local children; all of whom your daughter Sapphy had known her entire life. There weren’t any other friends for her to make. The group of around twelve would go out to play together, in the complete safety of a town surrounded by beaches where crime just wasn’t a thing. And sure, they had fights- all groups of children did. But they still all considered each other friends.

... So how had she made a new friend?

“... That’s nice.” She had your full attention. “What’s his name?”

“His name’s Red.”

...

You glanced away. You didn’t know anyone in town with that name. And as a single mother, you knew everyone’s names. She continued to eat, oblivious to the healthy amount of concern starting to build inside you.

“Is... is Red his nickname?” You asked, gently. You didn’t want to frighten her, or make her think she was in trouble, in case she decided to stop talking.

“Hm... I don’t know." She was talking with her mouth full. "I can ask him tomorrow.”

“Is he someone’s dad?”

“No. He doesn’t live in the village. But he likes to visit when it’s rainy.”

... Your mind was racing. ‘Doesn’t live in town’? Did a passing fisherman talk to her, and just say they were friends to be polite? Red, Red... no, I definitely don’t know a fisherman called Red. Maybe one of the kids changed their name? But then she would’ve just said someone changed their name. She wouldn’t have expressed that it was a ‘new’ friend.

You continued. “... Is he an imaginary friend?”

Sapphy got a look on her face that said ‘ugh, mom, you’re silly’.

“No, mom. I’m too grown up for imaginary friends. Red is real.”

...

The only other option you could think of was...

... That wasn’t possible. 

You tried to keep your expression easygoing, even as your thoughts became more and more tumultuous. If she was talking to a siren, it wouldn’t have been so friendly as to introduce itself to her. A close encounter with a siren would’ve resulted in it ignoring her, or killing her. Even thinking about the second option made you feel too sick to keep eating. The sirens in the waters around the island had a truce with the locals- a famous truce, at that, from hundreds of years ago. Sirens and humans, on your island, quite happily left each other completely alone. 

(They only went after stupid tourists who treated the island like a personal play park, ignoring the very clear ‘do not swim’ signs.)

... Besides. If a siren was going to try to charm someone, it would be a beautiful sailor or a lonely maiden. What would a siren want with your kid? 

You smiled. “I’m glad you made a friend. Is he nice?”

“Yes.” She visibly brightened. “He’s very nice. He makes jokes about fish. They’re not very good but they’re still funny.”

“... Could I meet him?”

Her smile grew even more. “Yeyeah! He said he’s seen you at the beach before. He said he wants to meet you too. And, and he said he’d like to be friends with you too. You’re gonna like him too. He’s very cool. He has a gold tooth."

Hm. Well, the fact that he wanted to meet you made you feel less nervous. Someone with bad intentions would most likely be trying to keep things a secret. Perhaps it was an imaginary friend after all? She was around that age. She’d never had one before, maybe now was the time. And with a name like ‘Red’...

“Could I come with you tomorrow, then? To go meet him.”

“Yeah! We can go to the rocks after breakfast!”

She was beaming. It made you relax a bit. 

There was no need to worry- it was probably an imaginary friend after all.

///---///

“Mom, it’s really important that I go first on my own, okay?” She looked up at you, full of all the worldly seriousness of a small child. The sea wind was tussling her hair, the sounds of the beachgoers muffled behind layers of cliffs. “Red only comes out when it’s just me."

She had taken you down a steep rock path that lead to a very isolated, very quiet cove, hidden from view on all sides. You were completely relaxed about the whole situation now; this was a lovely place to make a secret hideout out of. 

“All on your own? You’re very grown up.”

Her little chest swelled with pride, and she nodded resolutely. “Ok. You stay right there, behind these rocks. I’ll go wait for Red.”

She let go of your hand. You let her go, watching her move confidently over to the water. She found an edge that only a few inches above the sea line- there, she sat down, crossing her legs to wait.

... You assumed she needed some time for dramatic effect, to get into the game. So you settled behind the rock. Your eyes naturally wandered off, admiring the jagged cliff face around you, the clear blue sky overhead, the seabirds wheeling around each other. 

...

“Red!” She said, excitedly. For a moment, the delight in her voice made you smile.

... Then you heard the distinct sound of something very large moving in the water. 

What?

You jumped, coming back out from behind the rock, your gaze immediately snapping back over to your child.

... Your heart stopped.

Sapphy was still sitting on the ledge, right by the water. In front of her was a massive skeleton monster.

His chest alone as big as she was tall. He had his hands on either side of her; the same way you would’ve put your hands on either side to stop her from falling in. You could see his razor teeth, the cruel sharp edge to his phalange claws. Bloody crimson eyelights. The large curved fin on his back, the scars decorating his ribcage.

It was a siren. A huge male shark siren, close enough to your little girl to bite out her throat.

... He was smiling at her. He looked just as happy to see her as she sounded to see him. His huge violent maw, pulled into a grin that was almost loving- he was looking at her with an expression that was so gentle, so caring. You’d never known anyone else but you to give her that look. He was looking at her like she was his daughter.

...

... You weren’t thinking. Stories flashed through your mind, stories you’d forgotten until that moment. Stories of sirens becoming attached to human children and stealing them away on stormy nights. It was far from night, and far from stormy... but all you could see was a monster that wanted your baby.

At the sound of you running, his crimson eyelights flickered over to you. A glimmer of shock.

You grabbed Sapphy by the back of her shirt, sharply pulling her away from the edge, away from him- and in a flurry of pure parental instinct... you balled up your fist, and punched him.

You punched him. Right in the skull.

Pain immediately ricocheted from your knuckles and up your hand, because of course, it was a TERRIBLE idea to hit solid bone like that. You'd basically just punched a rock at full pelt. But you were still just running on pure adrenaline. You picked your daughter up, high out of the siren’s reach, staggering back a few steps- what was he going to do next? Was he going to attack?

...

He was looking at you. His eyelights were starry. Awed. And a ruby colour had spread across his cheekbones, like... a blush.

“... you punched me.” He said, breathlessly. 

///---///

Red knew, deep in his Soul, that you and Sapphy were his family.

... His feelings started out simple enough. A particularly strong infatuation with you- a pretty human that made his non-existent heart sing. He had spotted you one evening, sitting by the harbour with your legs hanging over the edge and your hair moving gently in the wind... he’d instantly tumbled head over fin. Who wouldn’t? He hadn’t felt such an instant attraction to anyone in a long time, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t returned to the island’s shores inbetween hunts in the hopes that he would catch another glimpse of you.

He’d had crushes before, though. He hadn’t thought anything of how enarmoured he was with you. Sure, the feelings were intense, but he it hadn't occurred to him that it was anything out of the ordinary- anything particularly special.

... One morning, you came to the edge of the rocks again. He happened to be there already. In one hand, you had a bucket with a crab fishing line... in the other, you held the tiny hand of your equally tiny daughter.

Red had never been one for children. He found them loud, tiring, too needy.

... But... then he looked at her. The small human with her hand in yours. He heard her voice, full of excitement at the most inconsequential things. He saw the incredible pride in her eyes when she held aloft the crab she caught- a tiny thing, barely bigger than her palm. He felt the gentleness in the smile that you gave her. 

...

The ache in Red’s chest was unfamiliar. He wanted... to hug her. He wanted to pick her up. He wanted to tuck her close and tell her everything was going to be okay... make bad jokes that made her giggle. He wanted her to smile at him, put her tiny hand in his.

He got the dawning, overwhelming feeling that he'd do anything to keep her safe.

Just like that, he finally got why so many siren mothers fought to the death for their children. He’d do the same.

You picked her up to take her home. Seeing you with your daughter in your arms sparked emotions inside him that he didn’t have words powerful enough to describe. In that moment, Red knew his feelings for you went deeper than a simple infatuation. Deeper than anything he’d ever felt before. It didn’t matter that he was an ocean being, and you and here were relegated to the land; there were more than enough stories of sirens using their magic to solve that particular issue. You were his mate, your little daughter was his child. There wasn’t much else to it, in his mind.

... His family. His mate, his child.

...

... Red knew he had to take the introduction slowly. Relations between sirens and humans weren’t exactly wonderful; as desperate as he was to profess his love for you, approaching you first would be disastrous. You were wary, wonderfully intelligent, and well within your right to be greatly suspicious of any friendliness a random shark siren may show you. 

... But human children were sweet. Open-minded, naive.

Things had gone so well with Sapphy. She thought he was cool- she laughed at his shitty jokes, gleefully poked at his golden tooth, and he successfully held himself back from telling her about how he was her dad now. He had never felt so fulfilled before.

... 

He should’ve expected that his good luck with her would come at the expense of his luck with you.

Here he was. His cheekbone stung. His mate was bristling with anger, and his baby could sense her mother’s emotions- so now, she was frightened too, slowly undoing the work he’d already done to get her to trust him. Red knew he should’ve been panicked, racing through situations in his mind, racing through ways to win you both back.

...

... But all he could feel, looking at your beautiful angry face, was attraction.

Perhaps it was the shark in him, drawn to displays of aggression. You’d punched him. You, a little human woman, completely on her own... at the sight of your daughter in possible danger you had run up to a shark siren and hit it- hit him- square in the face. How could that not make his Soul shudder in his chest? He felt like his love was well-placed.

Besides. The situation was far from unsalvageable.

“hey... hey.” He kept his tone even, trying to shake off the wave of adoration he felt. focus, red, focus. He held up his hands. “it’s okay. easy.”

“Get away from her!” You were frightened, he could tell. More angry than frightened, though. Hopped up on adrenaline and the kind of parental instinct he knew to be wary of.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you.” He lowered into the water more, to appear less large and intimidating. “it’s nice to finally meet you. i’m red.”

You were shaking. But you were also noticeably confused, probably not expecting him to be polite. Hopefully he could get the confusion to trump the anger.

“you’re her mom, right?” He smiled. “can sea the resemblance. you’ve got the same eyes.”

“What do you want?” You snapped, sharply, missing the joke. 

He paused. What did he want? He couldn’t answer you honestly yet. He’d need a few hours to explain fully, and another month at least of bonding to ensure you wouldn’t take it the wrong way and run.

“... just a conversation.” He said. Half true.

You didn’t believe him. It was written all over your pretty face. He kept his voice very, very gentle, trying to lay on the charm.

“c’mon. you’re okay. we both know that if i wanted to do somethin’, i already would’ve.” 

“You can’t do anything.” You pulled Sapphy in tighter. “The treaty.”

“... exactly.” As if he’d ever hurt either of you. “if i wanted a meal i would go somewhere else. somewhere with more idiot tourists.”

You exhaled sharply from your nose, jaw shifting. You didn’t take your eyes off him, not even for a moment- but he could tell that you (at least) agreed with his dislike of disrespectful tourists.

... A crease appeared between his brow bones, the waves lapping softly around his body. He had one more card to play- he didn’t want to play it, it felt scummy. But he was more afraid of losing his chance with his family than he was of the moral implications of the tactics he used.

He let his expression soften even more. 

“... i’m a siren. not an animal. i don’t just go around killin’ and eatin’ everything i see, y’know? i don’t want to hurt you. or your kid.” 

... There was a delay. But... slowly, a small amount of guilt seemed to dawn over you.

He was getting through.

Sapphy, still cuddled against your chest, spoke up. 

“... Mom. Red’s my friend.”

You looked at her. Your face wobbled, like you couldn’t decide whether to be angry or not, but your voice came out stern. “You didn’t tell me he was a siren. We’re talking about this, later.”

“don’t be mad at her. she’s just tryna kelp me out.”

... 

Sapphy’s face lit up, a smile that allowed hope to settle in his chest again. She wasn’t afraid of him- she still liked him. He had that small victory, at least.

You didn’t laugh at his joke. You were staring.

“i’m the gill-ty one here.” He continued. “it’s not her fault she didn’t think some-fin fishy was going on.”

This time, Sapphy giggled aloud.

“See, mom?” She looked up at you. “I told you he makes bad jokes.”

As her eyes turned to you, so did his. He was delighted to see that you had visibly eased. Though he would’ve liked to have chalked it up to his humoiur, he knew it was probably your daughter’s laughter. The sound of her joy was infectious.

... You quickly hardened again, though. “We’re leaving. We’re going to talk about this at home.”

Her little face fell. “What? But...”

“it’s ok, kid.” Red said, gently. “listen to your mom.”

...

Funnily enough, after everything, it was that that seemed to soften you. You gave him a glance that was far less sharp than anything you’d given before, as if despite all your suspicions and reservations you were still appreciative of his gesture. Although he definitely missed the aggression, still unable to help himself but be drawn to it, he much preferred this gentler glance.

...

You spoke reservedly. Trying not to let any emotion show. “I’m... sorry I punched you. Red.”

“... it’s okay.” He let his grin widen a bit. “i hope your hand is okay.”

With that, you turned, starting to walk away.

Though his logical side tried to calm him (they live on an island, they can’t get far) he still felt panic, deep down, at the sight of you leaving with her in your arms. His mate and baby were moving away from him. no. please don’t go. please don’t take her away from me.

... Nothing his logic could’ve said, however, soothed him more than the sight of Sapphy happily waving goodbye to him over your shoulder.

[blingblong55]

Little black dress- Simon 'Ghost' Riley NSFW

Photo credits: @ave661

Based on a request:

hey! just binge read all ur fics and I love them so much😭 saw that your taking requests rn and I had one, reader and ghost had gotten into an argument right before a party and so reader puts on her shortest dress and purposely tries her hardest to make ghost jealous, then gets fucked senseless by ghost when they get back😋 (Dom!ghost, consensual ofc) love your writing ur so creative with it! (just a request you don't have to do it^^)

---- F!Reader, established!relationship, smut, 18+, MDNI, unprotected!sex, dom!Ghost, rough!sex, slapping, choking, jealous!Ghost? ----

It was possibly the worst argument in your relationship so far, he and you saying horrible stuff towards each other and worst of it all is that you both had to attend some stupid party. The drive there was silent and awkward, especially when you wore that tight little black dress. The same one that showed him every beautiful curve of yours, he adjusted himself in the seat, an annoyed sigh as he tried to focus on the road ahead. You, applying that red lipstick and fuck did he need to have your marked lips on him. 

The party was shit, he didn't expect more from it but when one song in particular came up, he had to adjust his trousers as he watched you move. That body was graced by the gods, moving your hips, hypnotising him like a siren. His bulge grows bigger by the second, and your cat's eye on him is like prey. He shook his head, Simon knew you well, knew the tricks you did to mess with his head. And fuck you because it was working. There is one thing he loves when in public settings. That being that every guy in the room looks at you, wanting to fuck that cunt of yours but when you sit on Simons's lap, let him kiss your neck or you kiss his neck, he knows every man in that room envies him. 

No other man in that crowded space can fuck you, touch you but all they can afford is to imagine you, imagine how tight that cunt of yours is, how your pretty tits bounce when riding, how your moans sound. Simon Riley, a man who knows his pretty toy is for his use, who knows he eats you out, makes you come, scream, whimper and beg to come all over again. "Mate, y'alright?" And suddenly, he is back in that party. He nods, your stare still on him as your body keeps moving, he becomes frustrated, how can a pretty thing like you make him this way? Why can't you just bend over his lap, let his calloused fingers in your cunt, and make every man in that space know you are his slut, no one else's. 

And then he saw it, another guy trying to flirt with you. He isn't insecure of himself, very much the opposite but to even think of a man as pathetic and not as strong as he dares to flirt with you? Yeah, not happening on his watch. Simon knows you are loyal, he is secure in your love and knows you don't have eyes for anyone else but him, but it's time Simon shows once and for all that just because you aren't grinding on him at this party doesn't mean you two ended. He gives you that look, motions with one nod for you to come over and with some hesitation you do, "Simon, don't start-" His lips cut you off as he kisses you, his hand possessively on your waist as the other holds you by the back of your neck. 

"You're my-..fucking...girl," he reminds you between kisses. Of course, this reminder wasn't really for you, but for those around who think they have any chance with you. As stated before, he isn't insecure, he adores when you wear small dresses, when your curves are for all to view but to not touch, he loves to know that at the end of the day, you go home to him and that no man can change that. Simon encourages you to wear those outfits, he can fight and he can certainly kill for you, so wear that dress, be a slut and wear it because in the end, he belongs to you and you to him. Blood-covered knuckles won't stop the romance you two have. 

He grabs your hand, takes you back to the car and drives home. "I didn't get to finish talking with my friends, Si," you look at him and he shakes his head. "Doesn't matter, you can see them tomorrow, if you can walk that is." His hand is on your thigh as he drives. Fingers caressing the softness of your thigh. "I'm sure you can tell them all about how you got a proper fuck, right darling? Since you love to gossip and they too, so, tell them, tell them your boyfriend fucked you and covered your pretty body in his cum."

Once home, he carries you to the bedroom, tearing the dress apart as he nibbles on your neck. His cock was hard, swollen and needy for some attention. You look at him but all he does is turn you around, push you to the bed, and slowly rip your panties, his tongue lapping at your wet cunt. Your eyes shut as moans escaped your lips, you look back and he shakes his head, and slaps your ass. "No no, you don't get the privilege to look at me," he sits up and pushes your face to the mattress. His heavy cock slapping at your cunt before he pushes his tip between your thighs, your cunt already aching for him. 

Your hands behind your back, his strong hands holding your wrists as he begins to slowly push himself inside of you. "Oh fuck, lovie, s'tight," he moans and begins to increase his speed. Your cunt spreading for his size, your eyes leaking mascara-stained tears. You begin to moan louder the harder he pounds your sore ass. "Shut the fuck up," he slaps your ass once more, making you let out a whiny moan. One of his hands wraps around your neck, making sure to choke you just hard enough. Your voice is hoarse as you continue to get your tight cunt pounded. 

"C'mon, lovie, just take it." He whispers into your ear and begins to leave love bites on your neck. "Si," you cry. His marks beginning to hurt just right. "It's okay, pretty baby, let me just fuck you raw and then let me take care of you, yeah?" Simon whispers. His cock is buried in your sweet pussy, and your back begins to arch the second his hand travels down and slowly rubs your clit. Your moans are loud, and you begin to moan his name, cursing him as you begin to get closer to your orgasm. "Come for me, I know you want to, lovie," Simon taunts, his fingers slow, letting the build-up increase and the second you grew quiet, your cunt clenching around him, he knew you had cummed. 

Your whimpers get low as he pulls out, begins to stroke himself and grunts, his cum painting your back. "Oh, that's my girl," he moans, fingertips spreading his seed all over your soft skin, you squirm and he lifts your chin. "Open your mouth," he says and lets you clean his fingers, your tempting stare and the way you make subtle moans what a way to ask him for more. He picks you up and snuggles you under the sheets. "You did such a good job, darling," he smiles, Simon's warm lips meeting your forehead. Your legs still shaking, trying to calm down, ass is so red you wince when he massages your ass. "You'll be okay, I'll take care of you," he whispers and wraps his strong arms around you. 

A/N: my brain melted mid way through this so I'm sorry if its shit

Tags:

@liyanahelena @ghostslillady @unicorngirly1 @under-the-dirt @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rvivienner @krinoid24 @iruzias @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @night-mare-owl-79 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @greatstormcat

[queengiuliettafirstlady]

The gentle stag Dance of Love

The gentle stag Dance of Love

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Pairing: Keith x MC

Part of : Secret Santa hosted by @lemeowade

Gift for @keithsandwich, I really hope you may like it 🤗                                 

Tag: Established relationship Learning to Dance Fluff

Word Count : 1.126

Author’s Note: A whimsical request lead the shy Prince of Jade to spend a romantic date with his lover with the pretext of teaching her to dance, obtaining more than what he bargained for as the intimacy of that innocent dance increase at each movement as they waltzed in the empty ballroom, their gaze locked to one another reflecting the same lovestruck adoration. 🥰

Side Note : I really hope you will like it and even though I worked it with MC I couldn't help but picture Maeve and Keith while writing that. 🤗

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly  @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @atelieredux @klutzyroses @randonauticrap @thewitchofbooks @princess-pray-a @judejazza

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊

Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊

He never thought he would have been a good teacher at pretty much nothing, let alone dance, and yet when she looked up at him with her gorgeous bright eyes asking him to … well he couldn’t deny her anything and so, against his better judgement, he accepted determined to teach her everything he knew, insecure about his skills but excited to spend time with her all the same, his heart bursting with warmth from all the love he held for her as she tiptoed to leave a gentle fleeting kiss on his lips, he shyly reciprocated, before pulling d away brushing her lips on his cheek before running away giggling, like a playful fairy he would have done everything for.

Their date was in the afternoon, useless to say he dressed accordingly, taking care of every single little detail going as far as practising with the help of Liam what he would have said and done in order to teach her well.

He awaited her arrival with bated breath, nervously fidgeting with his own fingers, hoping she wouldn't have changed her mind nor her heart, still stunned by the fact such a gorgeous girl decides to stay with him. His heart flooded with warmth pouring over his smile as he took sight of her, approaching him smiling, albeit shyly, as her eyes gleamed in the ballroom like stars, looking every inch like the Queen she was destined to be, dressed in her jade gown like a siren enrapturing his heart deeper in love as she smiled at him, thanking him once more with her sweet voice for accepting to be her teacher.

Gently he took her hand in his, curling his other own on her hips to keep her close, his movement elegant and smooth as he guided her on the dance floor, smoothly adjusting her step with his own, as encouragements and praise flew from his lips making a rosy blush appear on her soft cheeks, making her look so adorable like a sweet tender bud blooming only for him, a rose only his to admire.

The soft fabric of her gown bloomed around her legs, like a flower swaying in the breeze, its hem brushing over his legs like a lazy wave hugging the shore, her curves molding around the hardness of his muscles while his calloused hand found comfort in her soft palm, their fingers entwined slowly tightening more at each step bringing them closer than away, like a whimsy tide crashing then withholding from the shore, bringing them in a sway of emotion as they swing around the shining ballroom. 

A dream scenarios straight out from a tale as they waltzed around the empty ballroom bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun, chasing them from window to window, along colorful rays radiating from the crystals drop of the chandelier, as the curtains billowed in the breeze carrying in the sweet scent of flowers and sweets while the soft music of a piano enveloped them in a magical bubble away from the whole word.

Their gaze meet, and the universe hold its breath, waves of golden crashing and melting with rainbow, a galaxy of twinkling stars sparkling bolder as they leaned closer, allure shining in his tawny eyes casting a spell on her, holding her own, like a moth naturally drawn to a flame so they were unable to stay separated, united against all odds, too deep were they were lost in each other's eyes to care about anything else, the emotion flooding in their heart guiding their movements as they danced basking in the sun.

His voice a warm velvety caress against the bare skin of her neck as he leaned to brush his lips on her earlobe, smirking at her dreamy sigh, 

“You are doing very well … like that, my good girl.” his murmur more sensual than it had any right to be, paired with the low sensual groan escaping his lips, underlining something more to his words, setting her cheeks ablaze at the memory of passionate nights spent showing off their love until dawn with only the asters as audience to their spectacle. 

His hands setting a fire in his trail on her skin as his fingers moved in a dance of their own on her hips, slowly up and down driving her crazy with desire, making her yearn for more as he leaned closer to her … few inches and their lips could have touched, unconsciously she closed her eyes hoping, waiting for that kiss. 

A sly smirk curled on his lips as she reopened her eyes meeting his amber eyes tawny with lust, she huffed in disappoint her lips curled in a pout she didn't held for long, swept up in an instant by his lips crashing over hers in a passionate kiss, his tongue probed an entrance she promptly granted seeking her tongue in a sensual ball of predator and prey until he finally caught her entwining their tongue together, pushing ever so subtly against her own body, smirking at her reaction feeling her hips move in sync against his own.

His fingers tightened on her hips as he pushed his hips to her, eagerly smiling at her fingers gripping his shirt, squeezing her between the wall and his sturdy body only to reluctantly pull away once out of breath holding her close to his chest, leaning in the soft touch of her fingers caressing his cheek, cupping her face in his hand brushing his thumb over her cheek gazing in her eyes, mirroring the same love struck affection they felt deep in their hearts only for one another.

“I love you to madness, my little rabbit.”

“I love you too, my stag, all of you.”

Love he conveyed planting an achingly tender kiss on her forehead, revelling in the bright smile curling her lip, smiling at the gentle touch of her lips on his cheeks, melting him whole, he hugged her softly basking in the hug before taking her in his arms, smirking at the soft giggles tumbling from her lips as he carried over to their shared bedroom, ready to show off his love in a way to make even stars spread all sort of rumors how much they loved one another until dawn. 

Telling a tale as old as time of a wild stag that got loved by a bird and how their bond became unbreakable, going down in history as a legend about true love ever steady against all odds, exactly like them.

For nothing and no one has ever and never would have been able to break the most powerful spell of them all, created with everlasting herbs and flowers melted together in the magic potion of Love.

[sherifftillman]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: Thanks for all the love on chapter 1, gang! This one's a real slow burn so I hope you're all in for the ride, haha. Also, I had picked the date Ralph arrived at random based on the general timeline I have for this fic, but it was only when making the fake text screenshots that I realised that the following day may have been a major event in the UK, so I'll leave it up to you to decide whether or not Ralph was responsible for that one lmao.

Also!! Big, beeg love to everyone in the jq server for enabling, encouraging and basically co-writing this whole premise, but especially to @hawkinsbanishedhero whose one-off typo, as featured in this chapter, inspired the absolute monolith this fic has become. <3

You wake up to a shooting pain in your back and an ache down one side. You groan as you stir into consciousness; for years you’ve always been able to pride yourself on the ability to sleep literally anywhere perfectly fine, you’d never understood why your friends always complain about back pains and knee pains when you’re all still relatively young, but now you get it.

You manage to pull yourself to standing and stiffly make your way to the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast. You look over at your closed bedroom door, wondering whether to wake Ralph up before you go to work. You don’t have to be there for opening, at least, but you do hope he’s not one to lay in for too long. Besides, the earlier you can get in to catch up on admin stuff before Head Office complain at you, the better.

As though he could read your thoughts, the door opens and a very sleepy Ralph emerges, rubbing his eyes to adjust them to the sunlit room. It’s positively adorable. “Morning,” you smile at him. “Sleep well?”

“Ah, good morning!” Even through his yawns, his voice remains very prim and proper. “I slept delightfully, apart from the occasional din coming from outside. I only noticed that when I was already awake, though.”

“Yeah, perks of being in South London, police sirens are pretty much 24/7 here. You get used to it,” you shrug, and Ralph looks horrified, ignoring your silent offer to make him a cup of tea.

“So, crime just happens? Everywhere? And it’s all just par for the course?!” he asks in shock. You nod, and he frowns. “I don’t think I want to leave the house.”

“You might need to someday, bud,” you point out, still making him one just in case. “I need to go to work, and you might end up going stir-crazy in here all the while,” you gesture at the four walls of your living-kitchen space.

“Yes, it is rather… Cramped in here,” Ralph comments with an upturned nose, though he takes the cup of tea that you slide over to him happily enough.

“Yeah, well. This is how far £900 a month gets you,” You shrug as you take your first sip, and Ralph chokes on his.

“I beg your pardon?!” he sputters out. “Ni- Nine hundre- How much is that really worth?!”

Nodding silently, you hold a finger up and take your phone out. As seems to be routine whenever you and Ralph learn about the stark differences between your time and his, you take your turn to react, almost choking and spitting out your mouthful. “Nineteen pounds?!”

“Well, that still sounds rather extortionate to me!” Ralph replies with wide eyes.

You walk over to where you had last thrown off your jacket and dig out your purse, taking out a £20 note and handing it to Ralph. “This, right here, would have been enough in your day to pay for this whole flat for a month.”

Again, Ralph scrunches his nose in disgust. “I rather feel as though you’re being swindled.” He holds the money up, turning it over and over in his hands. “Is this what money looks like nowadays?!”

“Yeah! Here,” you empty the monetary contents of your purse out onto the kitchen counter. You explain what each note and coin equate to. “I’ll leave them here in case you need to go to the store and get something. C’mere,” you wave him over to the window, pointing down below to a row of shop fronts at the bottom of another estate of flats. “There, on the corner, that’s a supermarket. It’s like, a greengrocers, a pharmacy and a clothing store, all in one. Then, next to it is the gardening store, my number one money sink.” You gesture to the houseplants that adorn the room.

“You do grow a lot of plants,” Ralph muses, smiling to himself as he gently holds a monstera leaf.

“All legal stuff, I promise,” you laugh. “But, yeah. Landlords don’t allow us to have pets, and so I’ve gotta have something to take care of. Of course, if I’d have known I’d be adopting a man born in the Victorian era, I might not have spent so much…”

Ralph, now more awake, bounces on the balls of his feet. “I-I can take care of them if you would like! Our gardener used to teach me all about how to water plants. It came in handy, being out in the garden sometimes. Much… quieter, out there,” Ralph falters, running the leaves between his fingers.

You place a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, “Wanna talk about it?”

He takes a deep breath in as his shoulder tenses up under your touch. “Oh, no, it’s quite alright, you’ve got enough on your plate as it is!”

“Okay. Well, if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m more than happy to hear you out,” you rub your palm against him in a single circular motion before pulling away. “Don’t feel like you have to bottle things up around me, okay?”

Ralph chuckles, though there’s no amusement in it. “Oh, it’s fine, honestly, I’ve no trouble with bottling things up. Rather, it’s the fact that I don’t that leads to most of my problems!”

“Okay. You know what you’re happy to share, I’m not gonna push you. But don’t make yourself sad unnecessarily, ‘kay?” You hold your little finger out. “Here, I want you to pinky promise me.”

This time, Ralph does crack a smile. “Pinky… Promise?”

“Yeah!” you grin. “Like, you know how usually big decisions are made with a handshake to make them official?” Ralph nods. “Well, little decisions that still require a commitment are usually made with a pinky promise. It’s like a handshake, but only linking your little fingers. So, pinky promise me you’ll always tell me if there’s something I can help you with? This whole mess is scary for both of us. But we’re in it together.” You smile softly at Ralph, and he returns it. In the early morning light, you can see freckles bouncing off of his face. Of course he has freckles.

Ralph sticks out his little finger, too, and you wrap yours around his for a moment before letting go. “That was… Fun,” his ears tinge a slight pink. 

“It was!” you grin. “Now, what would you like for breakfast? I’ve got cereal, I could cook you some eggs and bacon. Or, ooh, there’s one more shop I can show you!” You point out the last one in the row. “That’s a bakery. We can go pick up some fresh pastries if you wanted those, too.”

“Whatever is easiest for you,” Ralph insists. You pour him some cereal and milk in a bowl, stick a spoon in it and hand it to him, offering him to join you on the sofa.

“Okay, so while I’m gone, I obviously don’t expect you to sit here twiddling your thumbs until you get back. Now, this thing here, it’s called a television. Sometimes called a telly, sometimes called a TV. This,” you brandish the control at him, “is called a remote, it’s how you control it. You know how you could project films and stuff onto a screen, in your day?” Ralph nods. “This does that without needing a projector. And you can get all sorts of shows and films on there. I wouldn’t recommend you watch the news, just because… Well, you know why,” you pull a face and he nods slowly. “But I’m sure you’ll find something you’ll like, there’s enough out there, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, so the T… V… I can watch people perform on here?” Ralph asks, and you nod. You show him how to flick through channels, and his eyes light up. “Fascinating!”

“And if you want to listen to music, there’s a special speaker, here,” you point to your Amazon Echo. “It has a name, and you can talk to it. So you could say, Alexa, play me some jazz,” you hold your finger up to tell Ralph to wait as the speaker flashes blue.

“Playing songs from playlist Jazz Classics,” the smooth robotic voice tells you, and sure enough, the room fills with the sounds of brass and percussion working in an upbeat harmony.

Ralph absolutely giggles in delight. “Marvellous! What a spectacular creation! And I could ask it to play any sort of music?”

You nod, telling the Echo to stop. “You can even tell it to play music based on what mood you’re in. So, if you need to wallow for a bit, you can have some sad songs to listen to, or if you’re feeling high-energy, you can ask for songs to match that. That should tide you over,” you nod as you take his bowl and yours to the kitchen sink. “I’ll be back around lunchtime to drop you off some more clothes and I’ll get you some lunch too, but if you want a snack in between, feel free to make yourself a sandwich, or…” Another quick Google search tells you toasters were around in 1926. “Or toast! You could make some toast, if you wanted. We’ll go food shopping soon and get more specific snacks for you, but I gotta get going.” You throw your jacket on.

“But what about your money? What if you have to pay for something?” Ralph asks, concerned.

“Don’t worry, mate, I’ve got it covered. That’s yours, yeah?” You point to the kitchen counter. “You can use it however you want when we go out. Just… Don’t go crazy, okay? I don’t exactly break the bank.” You throw your jacket on and wave him goodbye, “See you at lunch!”

Once you leave the flat, Ralph suddenly feels completely stranded. He tries to drown it out by pressing buttons on the “remote” until something shows up. It’s a show about people buying houses that are bare, and fixing them up to sell on. Ralph feels as though they end up looking worse, but he understands why he would feel that way. He just doesn’t understand the modern style, that’s all. It’s not their fault that taste clearly deteriorated over time. Then he watches a show all about “antiques”, though again, it takes him a while to acclimate to recognising certain pieces of furniture as items he’s witnessed being sold in stores just before he left for the army. He wonders, if he keeps watching, will there be an item that once belonged in Penbury House?

His mind wanders back to that comment you had made yesterday. Penbury House. A home that had been in the family name for generations upon generations, now a lowly bookstore. What could have possibly led to it being lost? Were there truly no more Penburys? Had Victoria gone absolutely mad and lost the entire family fortune? Was his accidental trip through time the catalyst to the death of the Penbury name as it was once known? Well, wouldn’t Mother and Father have a lot to say about that. Typical Ralph, can’t hold onto anything. Not even the estate tied to him by his last name, the only thing giving him any purpose.

He realises he needs a distraction. Something to keep him busy. You had mentioned something about toast, the kitchen staff had been very excited to receive a toaster oven not long before Ralph left. He remembers helping the cook, who didn’t know how to read, understand the instructions. It only toasts one side at a time, Ralph knows this. Spurred on by his pride, he finds the bread and puts it in the toaster. 

As he’s trying to find the right button, switch, dial, lever - there’s so many extras on here, which one does he touch? - Ralph begins to get overwhelmed again. Echoes of his parents’ quick deflections, telling him to go ask the staff. The staff telling him that they’re far too busy to entertain children - other than the nanny, of course, who also made it very clear that she was only tending to Ralph’s needs because she was paid to do so. Victoria finding the art of making friends becoming second nature to her, and yet not to him for some reason. It’s not fair, he was just like her. So what made people want to be her friend and not Ralph’s?

Head swimming as the toast pops up, he remembers to turn it around to make sure it cooks on both sides - not realising that both sides had already cooked quite well. Soon, a strange smell starts to fill the flat. Then smoke quickly starts billowing out of the toaster. Ralph, terrified, slowly starts backing towards the door. Then an alarm of sorts goes off. Ralph wrenches the door open and backs out, his moon-wide eyes staring in horror.

Someone from the flat opposite opens the door and starts yelling, running in to unplug the toaster oven, pick up some… Tool that clamps together when they press it so, use it to take both slices out to throw them onto the counter. Ralph watches, back pressed to the wall as though he's tethered there, as this brave soul opens as many windows as they can before marching out to him, coughing their lungs out. "The fuck is wrong with you?! Who are you?! Are you supposed to even be here?!"

Ralph finds himself too stunned to speak. The neighbour rolls their eyes. "Do you at least know the person who lives here?" Ralph nods. "We'll see about that."

Being at work again, ironically, feels like it's been a century despite it only being a day. But the floor is running smoothly, everybody's here and working just great. You're even on track to finish all your admin stuff at long last, when - your phone rings as your neighbour's name pops up. You answer it, confused as to why they would possibly need to call you. “Hello?”

“You dating a dickhead, by any chance?” You hear their voice, a constant panicked hooting that - despite you having just met him - you could easily place as Ralph hyperventilating, and your smoke alarm in the background.

You sigh, “Not dating, but my… An old family friend is staying. Proper sheltered guy, sounds like a massive Tory. Is he okay?”

“Sheltered to the point of not knowing how a fucking toaster works?! I should call the fucking police on him for endangering the whole block!”

“No! No, please, I - Like I said, he’s just very… Look, I don’t have time to go through his life history with you -” read: I don’t have time to bullshit something right now - “but can you just… Keep an eye on him while I get back? I promise, he’s not bad, he’s just…”

“An absolute idiot?”

“Yeah…” You sigh.

“Alright. But only because you’ve been so good about keeping my cat secret.”

“I’ll buy Cheese her favourite tuna on my way home as a thank you!” you squeal in relief as you hang up.

You quickly ring up some clothes in the same size as the ones you’d given Ralph last night, explain to your staff that there’s an emergency at home and to call if they need anything - but please, god, don’t need anything, you think that last part to yourself.

Grateful you took your car this morning, you’re able to get back in a matter of minutes. You run into the supermarket to grab a can of tuna, a toothbrush for Ralph and, in a stroke of genius you’d had on the drive, a SIM card. You manage to successfully pay for everything - thanking whatever's out there that your phone's wallet system actually co-operated with the self-checkout for once - and run everything back to the flats, wanting to prioritise getting back to Ralph over getting the car into the right car park. You can do that once your poor neighbour is relinquished of their Ralph-sitting duties.

Once you get to your floor, you see your door still propped open, and your neighbour sat in their open doorway. With a relieved sigh, you fish out the can of tuna from your carrier bag and hand it over. “I will supply as much of that, and anything you want, as thanks for all this. Please don’t be mad at him -”

They raise a finger to interrupt you and lean over, revealing Ralph sitting on the floor of their flat, absolutely beaming as Cheese the cat paces in front of him, rubbing her head and body against his knees at every chance she can get. Ralph even pets her on occasion, which she takes happily.

Your face drops. “How - I have to use that tuna just to get a sighting of her when I come round and feed her!”

Your neighbour shrugs. “I’m just down here because I’m still convinced she’s doing it to lure me into a false sense of security -” You laugh with them at that, and they sigh in resignation. “But look at him. He’s harmless, isn’t he?”

You nod. “He’s just… Not used to living life on his own.”

They rasp as they stand up. “That’s an understatement. What, was he in some sort of imprisonment?!”

You shake your head. “I don’t even know. I just know that he wanted to get out of where he was. And he ended up here, with me.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you, then.” A look of realisation dawns over their face as they grin at you knowingly. “Isn’t your flat a one-bed -”

“I am sleeping on the sofa!” You point at the pillow and blanket that still remain strewn over the back of your couch, just about in view of where your neighbour had kept open to keep watch of the flat. Your neighbour laughs as your cheeks turn pink. “I’m not expecting him to stick around, so I’m toughing it out until he can find his feet.”

“Yeah, well,” they shrug. “Just teach him how to use things in a way that doesn’t involve committing arson, alright?”

Ralph finally notices that you’re stood in the doorway, and the delight on his face immediately turns to shame. He stands and bows his head, quickly heading out and into your flat, not making eye contact with you. You frown, though nod a final thanks to your neighbour who thankfully nods back in understanding, and follow him in. “Hey, you alright?”

“I have failed you,” Ralph says simply, his back turned to you.

You walk over to him, deciding he probably doesn’t want physical contact just yet. “No, you didn’t, I did. I should have left instructions, it’s not your fault you didn’t know how it worked.”

“Is it all ruined?” he asks in a small voice.

You put your bag down on the kitchen counter to look at the toaster and shake your head, throwing the burnt toast away. “It’s absolutely fine, Ralph. Promise.” You lean down until you can make eye contact with him and offer him a smile. “Need a hug?”

Ralph, looking on the verge of tears, nods and you walk over to him with your arms outstretched. He buries his face in your shoulder as you feel his breaths become more and more regulated. You smell the smoke still clinging onto his shirt and tap his shoulder to get his attention. Once you’re out of his embrace, you can’t help but wish you’d lingered just a moment longer. You empty out the shopping bag you’d brought in, telling Ralph, “I bought you some new clothes. And a toothbrush. And something else I’m going to show you later. Go have another shower, get that smell out of you.”

While he’s in the shower again, you go to your junk drawer, thankful that you’d decided not to throw away your old phone when you upgraded through your contract. Putting the new SIM card in, you put your old phone on charge and start Ralph-proofing it. You delete all apps except for Google, so that he can find things out for himself. You’d tell him about Alexa’s capabilities there, too, but you feel as though Ralph isn’t quite ready to understand it can’t answer everything. Not like the internet can. While he's somewhat safe in the shower, and while the phone charges enough to power on, you quickly make sure your car isn't getting towed. That would just be the icing on the cake today.

Still, once you're back in the flat, all that stress seems to ebb away when he comes out of the bathroom. “You look smart,” you chime as he walks out wearing the outfit he’d chosen for himself from the clothes you'd provided: a brown plaid shirt and some jeans - you'd overestimated to be safe, but they didn't appear too baggy. Enough for a belt to manage, but they could fit better.

“Well, I couldn’t find a - a suit to co-ordinate anything with, or a tie, so I’ve had to make do. I hope this is suitable enough,” he brushes his shirt down with his hands and fiddles with the collar.

“It looks great, Ralph,” you reassure, waving him over. “Now, this is gonna be a really big thing I’m going to be teaching you about now, so we’ve gotta focus up, okay?”

You teach him how to send a text message to you, the only contact in the phone now. You teach him how to call you. You have him practise calling by going to your room and waiting for him. He gets all giddy when he’s figured it out. You teach him that if typing is difficult, he can press a button, speak into his phone and the words will come up. You also tell him that if he taps the last square on the screen, and types in a question, it’ll tell him everything he needs to know.

Once that’s out of the way, you remember something. “Ah, shit. Uh, hey, Ralph, I’m supposed to be going over to my friend’s place tonight for dinner. If you want, you can join us, or I can cancel -”

“No, please don’t cancel on my account! Oh, but I can’t be trusted on my own here, can I, oh blast…” Ralph falters, but you once again put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Nah, don’t be silly, you can come with, it’s fine.” You send the group chat a message:

“They say they can’t wait to meet you! All’s good,” you grin.

“It certainly isn’t, what about your job?” Ralph asks with a frown.

You sigh. "Let me make you lunch, I'll pop back in to finish my stuff. It's been a slow one and I've got a good team on so hopefully they understand if I need to dip early to come back to you. Literally, just text me or call me if you need anything, promise?" Ralph holds out his little finger and you link it with an affectionate smile. "I'll leave the spare key out here on the counter if you want to leave. And anything you want an answer to straight away, that I might not have time to answer, you can tap that last square on the main screen and type in the box, okay?" Ralph nods. You make the pair of you some sandwiches and take yours on the road with you, fishing out your spare key and showing Ralph where you're putting it ("just in case").

By the time you've driven to work, you have a notification on your phone, which you finally read once you're back in the office:

Once you're finally done with admin stuff, for the time being, you go back out onto the floor to check on your team. You fill them in on an old family friend coming to stay, he had a bit of an unfortunate incident with a kitchen appliance, all is well but you're keeping your phone on you just in case. They, naturally, want photos and details, which you promise them soon. When you notice you haven't heard from him in a while, you text him:

Your coworkers watch you with amused concern as you go from snorting with laughter to looking at your phone in horror:

Opting to simply wave them all off rather than try to explain what you'd just witnessed over the past half an hour, you help your sales assistants out as much as you can until you feel another buzzing in your back pocket. Half-terrified at what Ralph could possibly text next, you brace yourself:

You let out a stressed breath as you send that last one, and finally, your team wear you down. You explain that your new temporary housemate now has free reign to leave the house, and after the events of the morning, you'd started to regret letting him. When you tell them all that he's 25 (which technically isn't a lie, he's got the body of a 25 year old), they assure you that even the most simple-minded of men surely could only navigate so far. Still, you can't help but pace the shop floor anxiously, refolding shirts and reorganising displays, until:

Laughing with relief, you excuse yourself for the day. You tell the team that you feel awful for leaving them, but they seem to understand that you have a greater purpose ahead of you.

You call Ralph to tell him that you're on your way home, mostly to make sure you don't still hear the sounds of the street behind him. Thankfully, there seems to be some jazz music playing in the background, so he must have figured out how to get music playing, too.

You unlock your door to see Ralph humming along to a tune, wiggling himself around rhythmically as he sprays the leaves of some budded flowers with water. He acknowledges you with a wide, genuine smile. "Hello!" He singsongs. "I thought I'd spruce them up a little before they go to their new home. Just a couple of African Violets, the shopkeeper said. The ones already in bloom on display looked quite wonderful."

It's not that you're not happy to finally see him excited about something he knows about already, but this is the same man who almost burned the whole flat down making toast just hours ago. Still, look at him. It's nice to see him acclimating.

Since Anna doesn't live too far away, you and Ralph walk over to her flat. He's holding his plants and looking extremely proud of himself, until someone almost walks into him and he's suddenly pulled back into the reality of the streets of modern London. His big eyes dart around as he desperately looks out for danger, wrapping his arms around his gift protectively. You take him by the cuff on his wrist and guide him, weaving through strangers who couldn't care any less about their surroundings.

You hadn't told Anna to expect a gift today, and so she seems thrilled to meet Ralph and take the plants out from his grip. He immediately follows her to start babbling on about what the shopkeeper had said were the best conditions to keep them in. Once she's finally able to set them down, Ralph is still tailing her, looking expectantly for more reaction. Amused and slightly confused, Anna reaches up to pat Ralph on the head. He giggles and rushes over to you. You and Anna share a look before you lead him to meet the rest of your friends.

Scott, Connor and Grace all greet Ralph enthusiastically, and he seems to be bursting at the seams at the prospect of so many people being happy to meet him. He stays relatively quiet as you catch up with your friends.

"So, Ralph…" Scott starts. He goes back to looking terrified. "How are you settling in living with this one?" he shoves your shoulder, and you bat him away, playfully flipping him off.

Ralph looks taken aback at such a casual display of vulgarity, but he continues, "Well, it's only been for the one night, and there's certainly a lot to learn about… This… London," you can tell Ralph doesn't lie well, and appreciate that he's trying to word things in as honest a way as possible. “But, your friend here is a remarkable host and teacher,” he nods, smiling to you. It’s up there with one of the strangest compliments you’ve ever received, but it makes you blush nonetheless.

Anna asks for some help in the kitchen, and while Connor is the first to stand up, Scott pushes him back down with a slowly emerging smile on his face, looking directly at you. “Why don’t you give us the chance to get to know Ralphie here?”

You narrow your eyes, “Why do you say that like you’re in your villain arc?”

He laughs, immediately softening. “I just wanna know what makes him tick. Get to know what he really thinks, y’know?”

Ralph’s eyes dart between the two of you. “Rest assured, I have to reason to lie about anybody here in the slightest!”

“I’m just yanking your chain, Ralphie,” Scott laughs, though Ralph is not amused.

Connor rolls his eyes, “Don’t let him put you off us, Ralph. You can get to know us, too, without a certain someone embarrassing us in front of their new friend,” he pulls a face as he points to you with his thumb.

Ralph grins with excitement, his feet running on the spot where he sits. “Do you have a lot of tales to tell between you, then?”

“Oh, we’ve known each other for years. Went to school together.” You explain as you stand, following Anna’s anguished look from her kitchen door. 

Ralph licks his lips, sadness dawning on his face. “Does that mean you all knew Lauren, too?”

Scott pulls a face, “How do you know Lauren, of all people?!”

Quickly assigning yourself as damage control, you pipe up, “Before he came to me, when he was living elsewhere, he met Lauren, Nick, Jase and Horace.”

“And yet he only mentioned Lauren…” Scott teases.

“Would you stop?” Grace slaps Scott’s shoulder as he laughs, moving over to accompany Ralph, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. “Clearly things didn’t work out. Her loss, mate.”

Even Connor gets in on the teasing as he snorts with laughter while pointing at you. “What a twist of fate, remember when Nick -”

“You know I never actually asked him out, right? I wussed out at the last minute and just told you all that he turned me down,” you interject, to almost everyone’s groans.

“Nah, that makes sense,” Anna calls from the doorway. “Explains why you’re still such a chicken these days. Speaking of chicken,” she ushers you into the other room hurriedly.

As your friends grill Ralph on what he knows about you so far (“Very little, I’m afraid!”), what his intentions in London are (“Sort of making it all up as I go along, really!”), and his tastes (“I’m really not quite sure, um, I’m quite new to all of this… Modern… I’ve always known the classics, you know?”), you help Anna with her final preparations. 

“So, how long d’you think you’re gonna keep him around for?” Anna asks.

You shrug, “It’s not really up to me. It’s whenever he’s ready to go back home, I guess.”

“I wonder where home is for him,” Anna frowns, and you shrug, focusing on your task. “He’s so… Out of touch. I know Scott was out of line guessing he’s escaped from a cult,” she mouths the word, “but, like, would him going back home really be the best thing?”

“Babe, you’ve known him for all of five minutes, and all you know about him is that he bought you some plants.”

“Exactly! You two are made for each other,” she muses, to which you grab a tea towel to flick at her.

“I’ve only really known him a day, myself,” you counter. 

“And still you let the man live with you,” Anna raises her eyebrows at you.

You shrug again, “I dunno, he’s harmless, i’nt he?” You look over at him, a trace of wistfulness in your gaze as you watch your friends tap his phone for him, pointing things out to him. “I guess we’ll just see what happens.”

Once everything is dished up, you go out to the other room to call them all to pick up their meals. “Hope you haven’t traumatised Ralphie too much,” you comment.

“Not at all!” Ralph beams. “Look at how many new people I have to call and to text message now!” He shows you the addition of your four friends’ numbers in his contact list.

“That’s great, Ralph,” you nod with an affectionate smile. “Now let’s go eat. Sorry none of your favourites are on the menu tonight, mate.”

“Ooh, what are your favourites?” Grace asks.

“Oh, anything with aubergine on the side is always a five-star meal for me!” Ralph grins, and Connor and Scott snort with laughter.

“Hey!” Anna scolds. “No vulgarity at the dinner table, please!”

Ralph frowns. “What is it that’s so vulgar about aubergines?!”

You see multiple people start volunteering themselves to teach him, and hold your hand out to stop them all. “Ralph, there are some questions that you’re better off finding the answers to all by yourself.”

Ralph gasps and points at you, “By using my phone!” You click a finger gun back at him in affirmation. He excitedly taps out a sentence - part of you wants to double-check for him, but you don’t want him to be entirely dependent on you, and besides, he’s a grown man - and frowns at his phone. “Hm, perhaps it takes a while for it to find the answer.”

You groan, “Has the data not kicked in yet? Sorry, that’s on me.”

Dinner goes by delightfully. Of course your friends would make Ralph feel at home. They are home. You wouldn’t even be able to tell amongst the table that one of you was actually from old money - really old money, at that. After dinner, everyone practically fights over getting to play their favourite songs to see how he reacts to them. You could cry every time you see how genuinely happy Ralph looks - though you didn’t want to pry too much behind his back with Anna, you are curious about his life back home. He doesn’t seem too happy thinking about the past, and if he’s so hung up on Lauren, who he barely knew, there can’t have been much luck with any other relationships. Maybe you’ll get to learn more about him. Maybe you won’t have enough time.

But, for now, you’ll happily take the arm he extends out to you as the song changes, laughing as he twirls you amongst the friend group you’ll happily share with him, for however long he needs them.

next chapter

[munsster]

steve teaches you how to drive

A/N: when i tell you how embarrassed i am to be getting my license this late……… the only thing that’s soothing my nerves is that robin doesn’t either which led me to this idea……… head full of steve

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (‘her’ is used in reference to reader ONCE))

he is SHOCKED that you’ve gotten this far without a license (and then remembers that he has been driving you everywhere since the dawn of time)

he spends a full hour explaining the car’s functions, letting you sit in the front, car parked, just to fiddle with all the buttons and levers and pedals

“what does this one do?” “those are gonna be your fog lights. but use ‘em in rain and snow, too, okay? not your high beams” “okay. and what’s this?” “that’s neutral. you don’t need to worry about that for now.”

on one hand, you’re completely nervous. on the other hand, steve is a wonderful driver, and you know you can trust him

besides, he’s letting you learn in his car. his expensive ass ‘81 beamer. he’s letting you LEARN in it. the pressure is on full force, babe, so sorry to say it

before you even THINK about driving, he’s patting the dash like “this is my baby, okay? treat her nice” and he doesn’t know whether he’s talking to you or about you

because honestly, he’s not worried about the car; he’s worried about you. he wants you to feel totally safe and he wants to keep you out of an accident

he takes you to the old Starcourt parking lot, and he has this stupid, proud smile on his face when he gets out of the car and saunters around the front

and he whispers “i believe in you” and kisses you quickly

and he helps you adjust your seat, crouching down and saying “good? is that good?” each time he scoots you up and you nodding when he looks at you

“can you see over the wheel?” “mhm” “perfect”

then he’s sliding into the passenger’s seat and sitting all antsy and excited (while also like shaking???? and he’s suddenly so focused and head empty at the same time)

and he’s holding back a laugh because you don’t touch the gas for like thirty minutes, just creeping down the empty aisles, eyes wide and hands GRIPPING that wheel

“WAS THAT A FUCKING SIREN?” “not for you, i promise”

learning that the brake is more like a good song than a bug you’re trying to squash (steve’s pretty sure he has whiplash now)

don’t even get him started on turning and parking

it’s fatal, babe.

“don’t cross your arms” + “pull. pull. PULL.” + “stop. okay, let go. no—turn here. okay” + “over your shoulder. wrong shoulder.” + “this mirror, not that one, okay?” + “give it a little gas, baby”

he’s a very gentle teacher even though he gets a little jumpy at times

needless to say, you hit a couple curbs

but you do get the hang of it, and his stress dissipates because he doesn’t have to direct you anymore and he can see you getting more confident

you actually park really well the second time. like you’re a little slanted in the spot, but you’re still right smack dab in the middle. no door dings for you, babeyy

he tells you to get out, and you’re thinking holy fuck i broke the goddamn car

but he has a shit-eating grin on his face, so excited like “baby, that was perfect” and pulling you against him so you can see your 10/10 parking job

lot’s of high-fives. and hugs. and kisses.

and all that praise, whew: “good job” + “baby,,, you’re kidding, that was perfect, you don’t even need me anymore” + “beautiful” + “shit, you’re better than i am” + “that’s the spot, baby, make her purr, yeah”

i— 👀

i’m so sorry

and this is like a weekly if not DAILY thing

he finds any excuse to get you on the road

and turns out, you really like going downhill

just coasting, not a care in the world. and oh, shit the light at the bottom is red

you get so comfortable, and he has genuinely never been prouder

you get really cocky. like worse than him on a good day

and your gloating is actually very cute (“YESSS, did you see that? steve, did you??? that was insane!!”)

suddenly, your road rage is rapidly developing

“DID HE JUST PASS ME??? WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS???” + “calm down, speed demon, we’re all going to the same place” + “hey asshole, it’s the pedal on the right”

when you finally feel comfortable enough to play music, steve is always DJ, it’s the rules, and he catches you humming/singing/absolutely grooving while cruising

he tries really hard not to distract you, but sometimes on a long, straight road, he leans over to kiss your cheek. or maybe he’ll be like “psst” and get you to look over and then peck your lips, the cheeky bastard

he’s utterly in love with you

TAKING SHIFTS CARTING THE KIDS AROUND :’)

and they DEFINITELY prefer your driving

dustin’s like “y/n, please drive” and steve turns around and looks him dead in the eye like “is there something wrong with the way i drive, henderson?” and dustin’s like “uh, duh, it’s shit. let y/n drive”

all while you’re just laughing and steve’s grumbling the whoooole way

once you finally get your license, he is never driving again and loves it. it’s not his fault you look incredible driving his car

have fun being his chauffeur :)

masterlist

[imapuppy5000]

Story on Orion’s Backstory. Since I don’t know it and I’m writing and learning everything as I go it’ll be in parts since I tend to get long winded when I’m just writing rather then trying to get a point across.

Anyhow, enjoy.

Sydney belongs to @tamberwoof btw. She’s only mentioned briefly but I don’t want to take credit for her existence.

Orion: Part 1

The pup watched as the clock ticked down. He was six years old but this was his first time in this ring and he had to wonder what the clock was counting down to. It was already almost at zero.

Curiously he turned to his mother— or he should have but she wasn’t there anymore? “Ma?” He asked, adjusting his tattered shirt and running a few paces as he looked around. “Ma?” His voice pitched higher in fear as he paced in every direction, his steps getting more frantic the longer he was in such an unfamiliar place without his mother. His nose was twitching desperately but all he could smell was smoke and blood. The clock chimed as it struck zero and the pup turned to face it, breath coming out in shallow bursts and eyes watering.

Above the clock tower the sky flashed white, forcing the pup to shield his eyes with a bandaged arm— an injury he had received in a spat with his older brother. When he lowered his arm there were grey monsters descending from the sky and killing everyone in sight. They had long horns and terrifying grins, each one wielding a spear that cut through demons and sinners like butter.

Yelping, the pup turned and fled into the nearest alley, skittering his way under a garbage bin and whimpering sharply to himself. He was panicked and terrified and he was pretty sure he had peed himself but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that when he was lost in the middle of a massacre. Grey feet tapped by him and his tail tucked as his whimpers of terror got louder. He tried to shush himself but he couldn’t and he was crying now and— and stars that monster was lifting the bin! Quickly he scrambled back against the wall, curled into a tiny ball and sobbing, begging shakily to be spared.

White soulless eyes met his own, but the smile wasn’t there. Slowly the bin was lowered and with a flap of wings he was alone again. He slowly started to quiet as he hid and, to his relief, no one else bothered him. Eventually the screaming had stopped and all he could hear was the persistent ringing in his folded ears and sirens wailing on.

Even still he waited. He waited until night had come and gone. He waited until the normal city noises started up again. He waited under there for hours on end. He crept out from his hiding spot and into the street which was bustling once more. Tentatively he glanced around. No more monsters… then that meant one thing. “MOMMA!” He howled, sobbing once again. “MOMMA!”

Orion awoke with a start, sweating and panting heavily. His hands were clammy and he had to flex them a few times before he could even consider wiping them off on his bed sheets. He was shaking but that was common after that stupid extermination dream. He shook out his fur with a huff and got out of bed, groaning as he rubbed a hand over his face.

He had a busy day (every day was busy working at the Carmine Compound). He needed to get ready and stop being so pathetic. He wasn’t a pup anymore. And he had no reason to be scared of extermination when he was working for a weapons dealer. Hell’s most powerful one at that. He grunted and stripped off his boxers before stepping into the shower and letting the cold shock him fully out of his childish fear. It warmed up slowly and he soaked it in for far too long before finally washing himself and drying off. His fur fluffed and curled just slightly and he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked ridiculous.

The hellhound laughed a little and brushed out the fur that would be visible after he put on his uniform. Well uniform was a strong word. He didn’t need to wear it but he helped him match his boss and made him seem less out of place.

Easily he brushed his fangs and flashed a winning smile to himself via the mirror before he got dressed and headed out of his room. Breakfast went smoothly, a bowl of cereal with Sydney and the girls, but he had to get to work soon so he bid them farewell and met up with Carmilla right as she left her room. Punctual as always. He smiled at her consistency and fell into step right behind her, ears pricked and eyes peeled for potential dangers. The pair made their way to the warehouse where Orion watched workers buzz around like bees, loading shipping containers and taking count of inventory.

“Orion.” Carmilla said, hands behind her back and gaze cold.

She didn’t look at him but his head immediately snapped from the workers below to her. “Ma’am?”

“I’m going out. Would you prefer to come with me or stay and help?”

“Come with you.” His answer was immediate and he was almost offended she thought he might choose to stay and load boxes over spending time with and protecting her.

She flashed him a smile and led the way out of the compound.

He was on a much higher alert now with all these filthy sinners who would give anything to kill Carmilla and take over her share of hell. His eyes darted to every little movement. Forcing his shoulders into a more relaxed set so he didn't show how anxious he was today, he asked, “So where are we heading?”

“Zestial’s.” She answered with a little smirk, glancing at him. His face remained stoic but she could see his tail wagging behind him. He had a bad habit of never being able to control it so when she wanted to see what he was really feeling she’d look for the tail. “No need to keep up the face.” She dismissed, waving a hand. “No one will harm us. They wouldn’t dare.” She glared at a small sinner who had a little dagger in his hands and he glared back before skittering away with his metaphorical tail between his legs. “I know you’re excited to see Athena.”

“Just as I’m sure you're excited to see Zestial.” He teased.

She smacked his arm lightly in retaliation and they both laughed. They both had their reasons for visiting the daunting overlord and though those reasons were similar they were not the same.

[emi-writings]

Quackity probably shouldn't have followed mysterious music coming from the forest.

But he couldn't resist something so pretty.

Quackity had never been a fool.

Oh, he played the part of a fool very well. And for good reason, if people thought he was stupid, they’d be far more likely to slip up. It wasn’t honorable. But honor didn’t feed the hungry or poor. Quackity refused to allow himself to become hungry, and he had plans to live a life far more grand than petty thief and a merchant of scams. No, he knew he was destined for so much more than the hand he had been given.

Quackity knew that only a fool would hear the faint sound of music coming from the forest and follow it.

But oh, did it sound so sweet. It should’ve been a greater warning, that he found it so hard to resist the temptation to follow the music that echoed through the forest. That made it so obvious that the musician was a fae. The fae were well known for their ability to enchant humans with their music and voices, like sirens with their twisted sense of humor. Everyone, even the few street urchins that lurked the many streets of the village, knew better than to follow the pretty music that came from the eerie forest.

Quackity had never been a fool, but sometimes he couldn’t resist making a foolish decision on occasion. The music in the air lacked the usual presence of an enchantment. He had only experienced it once, and one of the villagers had pulled him back when they noticed him wandering towards the forest. Warded him with iron, salt, and rowan wood until he had snapped out of charm.

He would never, could never, forget that night. He would never forget how it felt when magic stripped him of his free will, made him nothing more than a puppet to play with. How it felt to be trapped in that state for hours, with only the kindness of a stranger to keep him safe. It had been terrifying and haunting.

The music he heard that night hadn’t been the same. It tempted him, and the music would likely stick with him for the rest of his life, but Quackity could tell it wasn’t enchanted. It was likely that there was just a fae nearby that wanted to play a song without the intent of capturing any humans. Which only made it more tempting, if Quackity could get the drop on a fae there was no way he wouldn’t be able to profit off of it.

Quackity had never been a fool, but he had always been more than willing to gamble with danger if the reward was worth it.

So, he made his way through the woods. The trees crowded around him; branches reached out as if they wanted to grab him. Quackity ignored it all, he focused on keeping his steps light and silent, focused on keeping himself out of sight. As he approached the source of the noise, the air around him filled with the scent of saltwater, seaside lilies and other flowers. A Seelie Fae then, and potentially a powerful one.

As soon as Quackity approached the clearing, he saw the fae.

Quackity quickly ducked behind one of the thicker trees for a better vantage point.

The fae was tall, even by fae standards, and he would easily tower over Quackity. The flower crown on his head softened the image a little bit. There was a cloak around his shoulders that looked like it was made from moss. Shells that looked like leaves hung from his ears, and colorful shells of all shapes and sizes dangled from the fae’s belt. Light danced around his form idly.

All those things together meant one thing: that the fae was more summer aligned than spring.

Which only meant that the fae was more likely to be passionate, short tempered and mischievous.

The fae strummed his guitar idly, going over the same notes on occasion, and other times making slight adjustments. Which meant that Quackity had caught the fae as the other was composing. It was possible that the fae wasn’t even aware that there had been a human settlement nearby. The different courts competed with each other all the time, if the Unseelie Court had been the ones that had tried to kidnap villagers, it was possible they kept it secret from the Seelie Court.

The fae suddenly turned and looked up at him.

Quackity nearly gasped at how beautiful the fae looked.

“Hello,” the fae greeted with a slight bow.

His voice carried the hint of a melody.

“Hello,” Quackity returned hesitantly.

There wasn’t any reason to remain hidden anymore, so Quackity stepped into the clearing. He needed to be polite after all. The fae smiled brightly at Quackity, at the guitar disappeared into light. The sunbeams shifted in the clearing, to make the perfect yet soft spotlight on the fae. It only served to make him seem more ethereal.

“I wasn’t expecting to lure a human out here,” the fae said, “Especially not one as attractive as yourself.”

Quackity gave a polite smile, though he felt his face warm, “You’re either too kind, or too modest.”

“Care for a dance?” the fae asked.

“I probably shouldn’t,” Quackity replied with an apologetic smile.

The fae just grinned, before he started to hum a gentle tune.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream,” the fae sang with a soft smile and an extended hand.

Quackity had never been a fool.

But he had been alone for almost the entirety of his life.

So, he accepted the offer anyway, allowed himself to be pulled into the fae’s arms for a gentle, slow dance.

The fae continued with a slight spin, “I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.”

“Yet I know it's true,” the continued as he pulled Quackity closer, “That visions are seldom all they seem.”

“But if I know you,” the fae twirled them around with a smile.

“I know what you'll do,” the fae pulled Quackity right up to him, their dancing coming to a still.

“You’ll love me at once,” and slowly the fae’s lips moved closer to Quackity’s own.

“The way you did once upon a dream,” and then the fae kissed Quackity.

The kiss was full of warmth and light and tasted like the sweetest honey. It made Quackity’s head spin. The fae didn’t try to overpower him. His grip on Quackity was gentle, like he wanted to give the human the chance to back out if he wanted to. It made Quackity grin when the fae pulled away from the kiss.

On a whim, Quackity adjusted them so that he could lead the dance, which earned him a blushing fae in his arms. With a grin, Quackity started to hum the same song that the fae had sung to him just before.

And then Quackity started to sing, “But if I know you, I know what you'll do.”

“You'll love me at once,” Quackity pulled the fae in closer.

“The way you did once,” the fae leaned in.

“Upon a dream.”

[draco-kasai]

Imagine delivering food at Wayne Manor? This is a random little idea I had. Enjoy

You sighed as you drove the car down the long, winding road. You didn't understand why Wayne Manor was so far from the city. It was crazy, fucking insane. Damn rich people.

You rubbed your palm on your forehead as you drove through the gates after gaining access. This was far from your last delivery from the night, you had a long night ahead of you, but this was by far the most nerve wracking. Which is wild because you live in Gotham of all places.

You're pretty sure it's the atmosphere of the area though. The road had long since lost the city lights and was illuminated by the lights of a few streetlamps and the headlights of your car. The forest surrounded you as you drove up to the Manor.

It was some freaky shit, honestly. Why would anyone want their house at the edge of a cliff, so far from the city in a secluded forest - actually, scratch that. That sounds heavenly.

The privacy must be immaculate. Not just that, but they don't have to deal with the sounds of the city; guns going off in the distance followed by screams and the sound of sirens constantly passing by.

Damn, now you're a little jealous.

You finally spot the mansion coming up, and you couldn't help but gawk at it as you approached.

Christ, it's huge.

You've delivered to rich houses before, but this is rich RICH. You really hoped they tipped well and weren't stingy with tips like other pompous rich people are. There's been times when they don't even bother tipping you, asshats.

Finally parking your car in front of the steps, you looked back at all the food they had ordered. How are you going to do this? You might need to do more than two trips to your car. With a huff, you stepped out of your car and began to grab what you could carry.

Carefully, you made your way up the concrete steps to the door. Silently, you celebrate your success when you got to the giant pair of doors and looked around for a doorbell. Not finding one, you began to silently curse up a storm, how the fuck were you supposed to knock with all this stuff in your hands?

With a heavy sigh, and feeling completely done with the situation, you begin to mentally question working for this job for the millionth time since you got hired. Carefully, you adjust the order in your to free up a hand and knock.

Shifting on your feet you wait for someone to answer. After what you are sure is two minutes but felt like five, you reach over to knock again only for the door to finally be pulled open to reveal an older man.

You recognized him as Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne's butler. Nearly anywhere the Wayne family went, you can guarantee that Alfred was somewhere nearby. The older man even had his own group of fans - a shiver ran down your spine remembering how your grandparent constantly gushed to you about the butler.

"I apologize for the wait, I assure you, I do not normally keep people waiting." Alfred apologizes with an accented voice and an apologetic smile. You couldn't help the smile that spread on your own lips in response to the honesty in his voice.

"No, no, it's alright. I don't mind waiting." You said before gesturing to the food, "I've got the rest of the order in the car."

Alfred gives you a tired smile and nods, "I shall assist you then." He says as he takes the food from your hands before you can protest. "You'll help them get the rest of it, won't you?" He asked someone you didn't see.

A girl you hadn't noticed before appears next to him, startling you. They nodded and began to sign an agreement. You were confused as to what was happening but quickly caught on as you watched the girl with short black hair walk towards your car.

Quickly you caught up and helped her grab the rest of the food. Looks like you won't be doing multiple trips. Thank the gods.

Now that you had more time to see the silent girl you finally recognized her, Cassandra Cain. The silent one of all the Wayne children.

She gestured for you to follow them inside the manor as you arrived at the door. You bite your lower lip in uncertainty but follow the woman anyway, not wanting to just stand in the doorway.

The house was amazing and elegant. You felt like you'd owe the Wayne's money if you just breathed the wrong way. Oh god, now you're thinking about your breathing pattern making you breath funny. Wonderful.

As you two walked down the large hallway, you started hearing noise… was… was that screaming? A loud 'thud' sounded causing the shouts to halt. A moment later, rattling noises began along with laughter, and the screaming began anew.

You frowned in utter confusion as you finally walked out of the hallway and into what looked like a giant living room. You could feel the way your eyes widened, your lips opening slightly in shock.

The first thing that caught your attention was the man who you recognized as Dick Grayson, sitting on top of a swinging chandelier, laughing. How the fuck did he even get up there? It's so high?!

Tim Drake and Barbra Gordan were having a shouting match as they argued about something.

Jason Todd was running as he laughed while Damian Wayne chased after him with a sword in hand, ready to swing. A bruise blossoming on his forehead, you supposed that was where the sound came from.

Duke and Stephanie were on the side laughing through it all. Dick was apologizing to Damian as he tried to control his laughter. Jason was making jokes, causing Dick to laugh harder from the top of the chandelier and urged on Damian's rage.

In the middle of all of it was Bruce Wayne himself. He was staring at his mug in betrayal before lowering it in dismay. His eyes roamed over his children around him and slumped back into his chair looking done with his life.

Feeling a nudge to your shoulder you turned to see Cassandra. She was smiling as she watched her family. Looking back your way, she gestured for you to keep moving. Quickly you followed into the kitchen where Alfred was setting out the food.

"I appreciate it." Alfred said with a smile, "I do not normally order take out but today has been… an exception"

You let out an amused huff as you help him, Casandra assisted silently. "We all need a break from cooking now and again." You comment with a smile.

Alfred's eyes crinkled as his smile widened, "yes, you are correct about that"

Once everything was set out Alfred walked you to the door. Looking back at the chaos you couldn't help the smile that snuck onto your lips.

Dick had somehow found himself back on the ground with Jason in a playful headlock as he ruffled his hair. Jason was definitely larger and likely stronger than Dick but he didn't move as he just shouted and complained about his new predicament.

Damian was glaring from the other side of the living room as he spoke softly to Duke, Stephanie and Cassandra. When the fuck did she get over there?

Jesus, she's like a ninja or something.

Tim and Barbara were no longer arguing and seemed to be bouncing ideas off one another now.

Bruce Wayne had relaxed into his seat as his eyes wandered over them all. A small smile on his lips.

You quickly turned on your heel before you could be noticed and speed walked over to Alfred.

The drive out of the property wasn't as freaky as it was when you had arrived. Your mood had somehow been improved just by watching the interaction between the family. It was nice, being reminded how normal they are despite all the media attention they receive. The 200$ tip Alfred had given you somehow paled in comparison.

Slightly.

Watching the Wayne's definitely improved your mood, but like... Two hundred whole dollars!!

Holy shit!

You really hoped Alfred would decide to not cook and order from your store again while you're on shift sometime soon.

[bardengarde]

7 , 15 , 12 for the mash ask 🙃

7 . which character would you be most likely to hang out with and why ?

My honest and true answer? Sophie. I will be giving her lots of pets and treats, and I will become Potter's personal groom if that's what it takes to hang out with her. As far as a person character though, I feel like Radar and I are pretty similar and would get along well.

15 . pick a theme song for one of the characters . why do you think that song suits them ?

I've been on this kick with "Saint Valentine" by Gregory Alan Isakov and post-war Hawkeye. I imagine Hawkeye struggling very hard with loneliness after he finally gets to go home and not adjusting very well, and I think some parts of the song reflect that.

12 . if you were a member of the 4077 and had a nickname like trapper or radar , what do you think everyone would call you ? why ?

I put way more thought into this than necessary, but as I said earlier I feel like I'm very similar to Radar as far as appearance and some of our mannerisms, so I wonder if I'd get nicknamed something similar to him. I thought of something like "Siren", but I see that becoming really demeaning really fast. Only other thing I can think of is "Curly" bc I have curly hair.

[waitimcomingtoo]

We Both Reached For the Gun

Synopsis: after picking Arvin up off the side of the road, you pose as his fiancé to keep the police off his back

Requested by @acekoomboom

Masterlist

“Going somewhere?”

Arvin put his thumb down and nodded to answered your question. He’d been trying to hitchhike for hours but you were the first to pull over.

“Trying to.” He smiled shyly.

“Where are you heading?”

“Nowhere really.” He shrugged. “Just trying to get away from here.”

“Me too. Hop in.” You said as you pushed your passenger door open. “I’ll give you a ride.”

“You sure?” He asked. “Don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“No trouble at all, mister.” You smiled warmly at him. Arvin returned the smile before getting into your passenger seat, the scent of your perfume immediately mixing with the smell of cigarette smoke coming off his clothes. He adjusted his jacket to keep his gun concealed before giving you a nod. You had no idea he had just killed three people, including the town priest, and he was determined to keep it that way.

“Names Arvin.” He said, holding out his hand politely.

“Russel, right?” You asked as you shook his hand. “I’m Y/n.”

“Yeah. You know me?”

“We went to school together.” You told him. “You probably wouldn’t have noticed me though. I was quiet.”

“How could I not notice a face like that?” He asked, making you turn your head to hide your smile. While you were distracted, he turned to look out the back window for anyone who might be following.

“Because I always had it down on my desk trying to avoid getting called on.” You shrugged.

“Well I wasn’t in class all that much anyway.”

“I know. You were in the principles office more than the principle was.”

“How’d you know?” He wondered.

“Please. Everyone knew what a bad boy Arvin Russel was.” You teased him. “Which was funny, cause Lenora used to keep her head down with me. You’re total opposites.”

“Yeah.” He got quiet. “We were.”

“I was awful sorry to hear what happened to her.” You said softly.

“Thank you.” He smiled weakly. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Y/n.”

“That’s right.” He remembered. “Makes sense.”

“What about my name makes sense?”

“Pretty girl. Pretty name.” He shrugged.

“Well I hope you’re not trying to take me home, cause we’re nearly out of the state by now.” You chuckled as you struggled to keep your eyes on the road.

“Nah. I’m not.” He blushed and fiddled with his hat. “I can be a gentleman.”

“When you’re not starting fights?” You teased.

“That’s right.” He tipped his cap to you. “When I’m not starting fights. Just sitting with you is nice.”

You sat in comfortable silence for a moment and Arvin momentarily forgot about his crimes. It wasn’t often that someone showed him kindness, and he just wanted to linger it it a little longer. You were busy checking Arvin out in the mirror when you noticed the fresh cuts on his red knuckles.

“Your hands okay?” You asked without taking your eyes off the road.

“My hands?”

“Your knuckles are bleeding.” You told him, feeling the way that knocked the breath out of him.

“Oh. Yeah.” He laughed nervously and hid his hands from view. “They do that sometimes.”

“Do they?” You looked at him curiously, and he felt the blood drain from his face. Before he could respond, red and blue lights flashed behind you, accompanied by a police siren.

“Shit.” Arvin hissed and nervously looked in the rearview mirror.

“Dont worry. It’s probably officer Bodecker.” You rolled your eyes. “He always pulls women over for having the audacity to both be a woman and drive a car.”

Arvin nodded curtly before pulling his cap as far down as possible to conceal his face. You pulled over to the side of the road and impatiently waited as officer Bodecker walked up to the window.

“Is there a problem officer?” You asked once you had rolled your window down.

“Sorry to disturb you folks.” He said, never taking his eyes off Arvin. “There’s been a murder in the area. A few, actually. A couple and a priest.”

“A priest?” Your eyes widened. “Wow. How terrible.”

“Yes. He escaped on foot a few hours ago in this direction. White male. About your height and build. Would you know anything about that?” Officer Bodecker asked as he glared at Arvin.

“Um…” Arvin hesitated as he tried to think of the least incriminating thing to say.

“No, officer. I’m sorry.” You spoke up and put your hand on Arvin’s shoulder, revealing the diamond ring on your finger. “My fiancé and I are just on a little trip to go see his parents. We’ve been in the car all day. Right, sweetie?”

“That’s right, pumpkin.” Arvin said, immediately going along with plan.

“Fiancé, huh?” Officer Bodecker snickered. “You let your girl drive you around?”

“Sure I do.” Arvin narrowed his eyes. “She’s an excellent driver. Much better than me. Probably better than you too.”

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask to see your license and registration.” Officer Bodecker said lowly asked he gave Arvin a death glare. Arvin gulped loudly, knowing he was caught.

“But he wasn’t driving.” You said, dropping your innocent tone.

“I know that doll face, but he-“

“If you’ll excuse us officer, we really have to get going.” You cut him off. “I was the one driving. If you need my license, I’d be happy to give it to you. But my fiancé was just sitting here. He hasn’t done anything wrong. So unless letting your girl drive you around is a crime, I think we best get on our way.”

“All right.” Officer Bodecker said flatly. “Best to stay inside tonight. Get off the road as soon as possible.”

“We will.” You gave him a tight smile. “Have a good night, officer.”

“Night.” He nodded, his eyes still lingering on Arvin. You waved one last time before pulling away, hearing the sign of relief that came from Arvin.

“Will your real fiancé mind you calling me that?” He asked after a few minutes of silence had gone by.

“It’s my mother’s ring. I wear it so men don’t try and flirt with me.” You said as you glanced at the diamond ring on your finger.

“Why don’t you want them to flirt with you?”

“Arvin, do you mind if we don’t talk about that right now?” You asked as you looked at him, almost looking disappointed.

“Sure.” He nodded softly. More silence filled the car as you chewed on your bottom lip.

“Did you kill those people?” You asked after a beat of silence.

“What?” He played dumb.

“The ones the officer was talking about. The couple and the priest. Was that you?”

“What makes you say that?” He gulped.

“For starters, you have blood on your shoes.” You began. “You keep looking behind us and you’ve checked on that gun in your waistband just about every time I hit a bump.”

“What are you?” His eyes widened. “A detective or something?”

“No. I just read a lot.” You shrugged. “So, did you kill em? You have to tell me since I saved you from the cop.”

“Yes.” Arvin admitted. “I did.”

“I knew it!” You excitedly slapped the steering wheel. “I knew it the second I saw you.”

“If you thought I killed those people, why didn’t you tell the officer?” Arvin looked at you curiously.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I killed those people.” He said like it was obvious. “The priest and then the couple.”

“Was it Reverend Teagardin?” You asked without looking at him.

“Yeah.” Arvin furrowed his eyebrows. “How did you know?”

“All the girls in town know Reverend Teagardin.” You smiled sadly.

“He took my Lenora from me.” Arvin mumbled as he looked down at his lap. You looked at him sympathetically before reaching over and stroked his cheek.

“I know. She was beautiful.” You whispered. “I wish I stayed friends with her once we graduated.”

“I wish a lot of things.” He smiled weakly.

“I’m glad he’s dead.” Your eyes hardened. “He had it coming.”

“That’s really how you feel?” Arvin lightened up a little.

“It is.” You told you. “I would’ve shot him too if I had the chance. You saved a lot of girls from a terrible fate.”

“I hope so.” He nodded. “Thanks for seeing it that way. I was beginning to doubt myself.”

“You’re welcome, Arvin.” You smiled warmly at him, your hand still on his cheek. He gently took your hand off of his face and kissed the back of it, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Where are you heading, anyway?” He asked you as he held your hand in his.

“Nowhere in particular.” You shrugged.

“Can I come too?” He smiled. You looked over at him and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Course you can.”

“You’re being awfully nice to a stranger.” He noted. “Especially one that’s killed a couple people.”

“Yeah, well.” You shrugged. “You look like you could use somebody being nice to you for a change”.

“I could.” He admitted. You glanced over at him again and squeezed his hand.

“Theres a motel about a mile down the road. We could stay there for the night and get back on the road in the early morning.”

“A motel?” He raised his eyebrows. “Now who’s trying to take me home?”

“You sure flirt a lot for a murderer.” You chuckled.

“You sure let me me flirt.” He retorted. “Considering I’m a murderer and all.”

“I think it’s kinda hot.” You said without looking in his direction.

“Really?” He smirked. “You think it’s hot that I’ve killed people?”

“Yeah.” You said simply. “As long as you don’t kill me.”

“I won’t.”

Just then, you pulled into the parking lot of the motel and parked your car. You looked over at Arvin and took his cap off so that you could gently comb out his knotty curls with your fingers. He stayed perfectly still as you moved your hands from his hair to his face. You smiled a little before quickly pecking him on the lips.

“There.” You smiled proudly. “Now you got some color back into your cheeks. You don’t look like you killed three people anymore.”

“You’re really smart.” He said softly, his eyes never leaving your lips. You winked at him before taking him by the hand and leading him inside.

“We’d like a room, please.” You asked the lady at the front desk.

“Lovebirds.” She smiled. “How sweet.”

“We’re on our honeymoon, actually.” Arvin spoke up, lying just for the hell of it.

“Well congratulations. You two make a lovely couple.” She told you as she handed you a key. You thanked her and held Arvin’s hand as you walked to your room. When you opened the door, you were met with a dilemma.

“Well look at that.” You raised your eyebrows.“There’s only one bed.”

“I could just sleep on the floor.” Arvin offered. “I’ve slept worse places.”

“Don’t be silly.” You told him. “You’ve had a long day. You need to sleep in a real bed.”

“Well thank you.” He nervously touched his cap and took his jacket off.

“Before we do anything else, I need your gun.” You pointed to the gun in his waistband. “I need to know you're not gonna kill me my sleep."

"You don't trust me?" He pretended to be offended.

"Not with that gun.”

“You better not kill me either.” Arvin said as he reluctantly handed his gun over.

“I don’t even know how these things work.” You laughed and put it in your bag. “I’m beat, though. We should get some sleep.”

Arvin nodded and began to unbuttoned his shirt. He saw the smirk on your face when you noticed the blood stains on his undershirt. He tugged that off as well and laid it on the table before climbing into bed with you. You didn’t say anything, but you wrapped your arms around him and held him tightly. He wasn’t used to people taking care of him, so he let it happen. He snuggled into your body and felt sleep take him over.

You woke up before him the next morning before him and got dressed in your clothes from the day before. You saw his bloody undershirt and smirked to yourself just as he woke up.

“Morning, darling.” He said through a yawn. “Going somewhere?”

“I’ll be right back.” You told him. “I’m gonna go get some ice from the lobby.”

“Why?” He asked as he got out of the bed.

“Your hands.” You pointed to Arvin’s knuckles, which were still bleeding.

“Right.” He painfully flexed his knuckles. “Thanks.”

You smiled at him before slinging your bag over your shoulder. You were about to leave when he called out to you again.

“Y/n?” He asked.

“Yes?”

Arvin swiftly slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you into another kiss. It was longer this time, much more than just a peck. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, the feeling making all his sins wash away.

“Thought you needed a little color in your cheeks as well.” He mumbled when you pulled away. You laughed softly before kissing his cheek.

“I’ll be right back.” You winked at him and left the room. Arvin smiled widely when you were gone, feeling his slate go clean. He took his cap off and threw it against the wall in excitement. You were the daylight after the 20 year long night he’d been through. Only a few minutes had gone by when he heard a knock at the door.

“That was fast.” He smiled as he opened the door. His smile instantly fell when he saw Officer Bodecker standing outside.

“Evening, Russel.” He smiled tightly. “Nice to see you again.”

“What are you doing here?” Arvin gasped and backed away from the door.

“After our little conversation last night, I felt a little suspicious of the two of you. I’ve seen you around town plenty of times. Got yourself a little reputation going for starting fights.” Officer Bordecker smirked. “Never seen you with your pretty little fiancé, though. Then I remembered what she told me.”

“What did she tell you?” Arvin narrowed his eyes.

“That you’d been driving all day to go visit your parents.”

“So what?” Arvin scoffed.

“It’s a small town, Arvin.” Officer Bodecker shrugged. “Not a damn soul doesn’t know about what happened to your parents. Unless you was driving to heaven, she was lying.”

“She’s innocent.” Arvin clenched his jaw. “She didn’t know I killed those people when she picked me up.”

“But I bet she knows now, doesn’t she?” Officer Bodecker sighed. “Seeing as you left your bloody clothes out on the table.”

“You can’t arrest her for knowing something you didn’t.”

“No, I can’t.” He agreed. “But she didn’t turn you in. She helped hide you up here in this hotel. That makes her an accessory.”

“She wasn’t a damn accessory.” Arvin took a step forward. “She wasn’t even with me when I killed those people. You best leave her alone.”

“No, son. I don’t think I will.” Officer smirked. “If I can’t arrest her for this, I’ll arrest her for killing you.”

“But she didn’t kill me.” Arvin protested.

“Says who?” Officer Bodecker tilted his head. “If I kill you right now and tell the chief that she did it, who’s gonna tell him the truth? You?”

“Why would you do that? Why bring her into this at all?”

“Because she ran her mouth when I pulled you over.” He said as he pointed his gun at Arvin. “And now she’s covering up for a killer. I may not be able to arrest her for driving the getaway car, but I can sure as hell make sure she does time for killing you. You’ll be dead, she’ll be in prison, and I’ll be the hero of Knock-“

Three bullets punctured Officer Bodeckers chest before he could finish his sentence. Arvin winced as the blood splattered his face but he was too stunned to move. When Bodecker collapsed, Arvin saw you in the doorway with the gun.

“Y/n?” His voice shook as a drop of blood dripped from his chin. You quickly put the gun in your bag before grabbing Arvins hand.

“Come on.” You told him. “We gotta get out of here.”

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[todoscript]

riding him until he passes out

character: todoroki shouto. genre: SMUT. warnings: 18+. submissive!shouto. dominant!reader. cursing. riding. praising. overstimulation.

anonymous said: I want to ride Shoto until he passes out from pleasure (I know I’m on anon but I still get embarrassed typing these kinds of things)

author’s note: me too anon, tf. what’d i give to saddle and ride him until the sun rises. as always, smut under the cut, and a quick reminder that i’m temporarily leaving my inbox open for spicy requests right now!

todoroki shouto

“Ahh, ohhhh fuck!” Shouto groans, curses falling from his tongue as it lolls out from the sheer pleasure flowing through him like tidal waves while he trembles underneath you. Each surge of your ass down on his thighs feels more powerful than the last. He senses his mind on the verge of collapse every time your pussy wholly envelops his hard cock, which has been thoroughly wrung throughout the night. Yet Shouto has no one to blame but himself for his current situation.

What started as just frisky touching quickly escalated to what was currently a hot, long, never-ending session of fucking. Before this had all transpired, he was teasing you with longing presses of his large hands on your body, egging you on for something more—something heaty and passionate with suggestive eyebrows raised in your direction. After stoking your flames, he got what he wanted. But what he had failed to realize was how… voracious you were tonight. How you seemed utterly insatiable as round after round of fucking, you came back for more. It’s like you made it your goal to completely milk him out by the very end of it all.

Shouto can’t even count how many sessions the two of you went through so far, too lost in the pleasure and overstimulation to even think. All he knows is that you were still going strong, hard at work at trying to make him cum again.

“C’mon Shou, stay with me now,” you sing to him, coaxing his attention to you once more as if it had even left you in the first place. Your tone hits a note that is beyond lascivious to his ears, so wanton and high; it reminds him of sirens enchanting sailors to their doom. Though at this moment, you might as well be just that—an exquisite, beautiful creature he’d allow himself to drown in, let him be engulfed in your throes of pleasure.

While you continue your work on Shouto’s cock, you cup his face in your hands. You relish all his wanton expressions, humming in content, knowing that they’re all just for you. That you’re the one making him this lewd mess, gratifying him with your hot, silky walls continuously wrapping around him.

“Mm, that’s it. You’re so pretty, you know that? So handsome,” you tell him, yet he can’t seem to take in your words fully, too caught on the sound of your skins slapping against each other that reverberate across the room. It echoes in his mind as you come down for a sweet kiss, tongues gliding together.

When you part, you press your forehead against his and keep your gaze on him. Shouto quietly gulps at the sensual gleam in your eyes.

“I’m going to pick up the pace a bit, alright?” You grant him only a cusp of relief before ripping it away with a hard drop. Grunts and moans quickly replace any of Shouto’s protests at the sudden increase in tempo on his cock.

“Mmm, fuckfuckfuck— Baby, I—” He attempts to voice, but your pussy makes it difficult to even breathe, let alone refuse the bliss you’re giving him. To be frank, he wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything else in the world. You feel absolutely divine on his dick, so tight, and squeezing him for all he’s worth. But fuck, it’s almost too much for him at this point, having cummed too many times already.

“Agh, I-I’m so sensitive.”

“Aw, I know you have one more for me,” you coo, placing a kiss on his cheek before adjusting your hands on his shoulders for more leverage. Your relentless pounding up and down leaves him an even more disjointed mess beneath you, reducing him to a puddle. His hands formerly holding your hips descend to your thighs, gripping the generous flesh as if it’s the one thing keeping him anchored to reality.

“C’mon, I wanna make you cum again. You can do that for me, right? Make my pussy all white and creamy and full of your cum?” you ask in a pleading voice befitting of a vixen. Shouto only nods with his tongue hanging out. You grin at his submissive state, making sure each succession of your ass meeting his thighs crashes deep and hard around him. And he moans every single time.

“Mm ah, you’re doing so good, enduring so much. That’s my Shouto,” you praise. The smacking of skins crescendos into loud beats throughout your shared bedroom, and you revel in its symphony accompanied by Shouto’s cries of ecstasy.

Everything starts piling on top of each other all too fast. He feels that surge coursing through his cock again from your rapid pace and the clenching of your cunt. It makes his brows narrow tightly from both the pleasure and the pain of overstimulation.

“Fuck, love, I’m going to— c-cum, I—”

“Yeah, Shou, cum in me. I want you to cum in my pussy with everything you got,” you command, recognizing you’re reaching your own high as well.

Then with one final, deep drop against him, you bury yourself completely on his twitching cock as the man before you groans out your name loudly.

As Shouto climaxes, his gray and blue eyes roll back in his head. He sees stars flash across his vision while he thoroughly spurts white across your walls. You cream his dick of everything it can offer you, your core clamping around him like you’re milking him down to the very last drop.

“Ngh… Shouto, you did so well...” you moan out at the sensation of being filled while singing praises for your man.

However, instead of a response, you only hear breaths quietly inhaling and exhaling under you. When you look down, you see Shouto’s eyes are already closed in slumber.

You stare at him incredulously, realizing the aftermath of the passionate events caused him to immediately pass out. Though you can’t blame him, knowing full well what you were doing, considering your greedy appetite.

A smile curls on your lips at the sight, seeing Shouto sleeping so soundly. You clean the both of you up a bit before tucking yourself under his arm. As you bring the sheets over your spent, naked bodies, you lay a final kiss on his lips, admiring his peaceful form that glows within the bliss of pleasure.

“Good night, Shou. Sleep well.”

[notcaelum]

in an attempt to cure my writers block, i challenged myself to write ~1k about the first topic that i could get more than a paragraph out of, so here’s 961 words about ian and mickey’s sleeping habits that aren’t good enough for ao3

---

Mickey remembers the first time he and Ian shared a bed. It was the night of their sleepover, and Ian had rolled over onto his side after they fucked and immediately started blinking sleepily. Mickey had tapped his face and teased him, because that was about as far as he could go in terms of affection at that moment, but otherwise, he’d left Ian alone, knowing that he probably hadn’t been sleeping soundly in that group home. It was terrifying, having a boy in his bed, but Mickey had slept well, too, comforted by Ian’s warmth and steady breathing next to him.

It’s normal now, sleeping next to his husband. Mickey likes the way things have been recently, even if things are on the west side for the foreseeable future, at least until the lease is up.They get their dose of chaos and danger throughout the day, running weed and large amounts of cash across the city. They carry guns and are forced to be vigilant so they don’t get robbed by Mickey’s fucking cousins again. They get cops riding behind the stolen ambulance they haven’t replaced yet, and their hearts race until they lose the guy and get to their destination, and at the end of the day, they get a pretty damn good paycheck and go home, where things are safe.

At their apartment, no one’s ever picked the lock or broken the living room window with a brick. No one’s ever bled on their kitchen floor. No one’s been smacked around for making a small mistake. There are no holes in the walls from bullets or angry family members.

One of Mickey’s favorite things about their lives as they are now is that he gets to share a bed with his husband every single night without fail.Their evenings have a bit of a routine now. It’s mostly for Ian, but Mickey finds that he actually likes knowing exactly what’s gonna happen for a few hours each day.

Once or twice a week, they’ll have dinner at the Gallagher house, where everyone else is still living. On other nights, one or both of them will make dinner, and they’ll watch a cooking show that Ian likes, or a movie Mickey wants to see, or a couple episodes of a series they missed out on when they were locked up, and they’ll usually be in bed by 10pm, because the meds Ian takes after dinner make him sleepy, and Mickey doesn’t see the point of staying up and being on an entirely different schedule than Ian.

They watch action movies in bed now, ever since Ian randomly woke up and saw Mickey watching police chases on youtube to help him fall asleep. The crashes and yelling and sirens remind him of home, and he sleeps much easier than he does when it’s silent.

Ian likes to lay half on top of Mickey a lot of the time. He always says he’s just getting comfy and making sure Mickey’s the one that’s facing the TV so he can see what’s going on, but he also says, every night, that he’ll move to his own side when he starts falling asleep, and every night, without fail, he’s asleep and drooling on Mickey’s chest no more that five minutes after saying that. Mickey would bet on it any night of the week, because it’s that consistent.

Really, though, he doesn’t mind. He loves Ian. He loves holding and being held by Ian, and they sort of get the best of both worlds this way. He likes to brush the hair out of Ian’s face when he lays down, and he likes to twist any rouge, curly bits around his finger to irritate his husband. Ian likes to put his hand up Mickey’s shirt and softly stroke his chest, stomach, or hip to help him relax. Every so often, he’ll accidentally hit a ticklish spot, and Mickey will jump, and if Ian laughs, Mickey sticks a finger in his open mouth when he has his eyes closed to get him back without jostling him so much that it makes it harder for him to fall asleep.

Sometimes, when Ian’s almost asleep, he turns onto his stomach and slides one of his legs between Mickey’s, smushing his face even closer to Mickey’s chest and neck. It feels even more intimate, having their whole bodies pressed together for no reason other than comfort while they sleep. Sure they can feel each other’s morning wood this way, but they don’t worry about that until they wake up.

Ian doesn’t really snore, thankfully. He claims that Mickey does, loudly, but Mickey will believe that when he sees proof. Ian does talk in his sleep, though. He once told Mickey about his plan to make sure his garden thrived once it was warm enough to plant, and he’s told a couple blackmail-worthy stories about Lip that Mickey’s waiting on an opportunity to use. It’s usually incoherent mumbling or small, breathy laughs, though, which might be one of Mickey’s favorite things in the world. It helps him sleep sometimes, especially on rough nights when the bad memories won’t leave him the fuck alone. Ian looks so beautiful when he’s relaxed, and seeing him so happy, even subconsciously, makes Mickey feel great about where their lives are at.

Adjusting to fully laying down without disturbing Ian isn’t difficult. He sleeps like a damn baby on their new cloud bed and the fancy-as-fuck pillows that came with it. Not that Ian uses those, not with Mickey’s chest right there.Mickey acts irritated sometimes, but he’s not, and he’s sure Ian knows that. He loves having his husband’s weight on top of him, anchoring him as he falls asleep every night.

[ddarker-dreams]

Sweet Talkin’. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]

There’s been an abnormal amount of sirens tonight.

It should be unnerving -- and to an extent it is -- but this isn’t what keeps you awake. Not that, or even the dogs barking outside accompanied with an occasional derogatory yell. With a heavy heart, you can say that you’ve gotten used to all of that noise. No, it’s something different that steals you from the welcoming comfort of a deep slumber. 

The thing that truly keeps you up is the anticipation of what is to come. Or more precisely, who. 

The bright glow of your phone strains your tired eyes, but it’s your best shot at finding entertainment. Squinting at the blinding light, exhaustion seeps into your being despite your best efforts to ward it off. No matter how much caffeine you drink later on in the day, it’s not enough to to thwart your natural inclinations to sleep.

For most, nighttime is a relaxing time of day that’s coveted. It brings a time of solitude, to reflect and rest up for the next day. While you wish you could return to the days where you felt like that, it’s long behind you now. Instead, you evade sleep, in fear of what could occur when you’re in the defenseless state. 

An illusion of control is better than none at all.

“You’re gonna get dark circles under those pretty eyes if you keep staying up this late.” 

A deep voice rumbles from the entrance to your shared room, one that you instantly recognize. Even in your groggy state, your emotions heighten in his presence. Turning off your phone and placing it down, you stretch your arms out, a yawn leaving your lips in the process.  

So he’s back. 

“Yeah, yeah…” you grumble back, caring little for the teasing comment. After feeling around your nightstand, a click resonates, light illuminating your room. Once your eyes adjust, you spot your unwelcome visitor, who makes himself at home. Dabi walks towards you, your bed creaking under his added weight as he sits down. Untying his shoes, he throws them carelessly in the corner.

Sensing your staring, he looks over his shoulder and grins at you. “Awe, you miss me or somethin’? How cute.” 

A groan leaves your lips, and you reach to throw a pillow at him. He easily deflects it with a snicker, working on taking his shirt off next. At least now that he’s back you feel more inclined to sleep, knowing that he can’t sneak up on you. Splatters of dark vermilion catch your attention, mouth curling downwards into a frown. 

If there’s anything you’ve learned in your time with Dabi, it’s that you shouldn’t ask where the blood stains come from. Ignorance is bliss, right? It’s still an unnerving sight, especially since you know it isn’t his. 

The relationship you two share is nothing if not unconventional. His occupation -- if you can even call it that -- has him coming and going at unholy times at night. Sleep is difficult to come by, not knowing when he might make an appearance. It’s what leads you to stay up some nights, a preferable experience to tossing and turning with anxious thoughts plaguing you.

As long as you stay in your designated place, Dabi holds true to his promise of doing you no harm. Thinly veiled threats under the pretense of being your “roommate” lead you to the current day, an awkward routine settling in. For all it’s worth, it could be worse. You’re acutely aware of what Dabi is capable of, having seen the ashes of corpses blurred out in the news. 

Why he’s taken a liken to you is beyond you. It still beats dying, only by a sliver. 

“There are some leftovers in the fridge,” you tap your phone, reading the time. Three in the morning. Great, and you have work tomorrow too. “I think I’ll give sleeping a shot now that you’re back.” 

Dabi raises an eyebrow at this, a fresh shirt without blood stains now on. “You always sleep when I get back. It hurts my feelings. What, am I not good enough company?”  

‘If I’m being honest, not really.’

He grins at how you shiver, lazily crawling over to be by your side. His sudden presence fills your nose with unknown scents, ranging from smoke to burnt leather. Underneath is hints of his cologne, all mixing together to disorient you further. Dabi loves riling you up, testing the limits of what you can handle. 

You take a deep breath, hugging your knees to your chest. As long as you don’t let it get to you, it’ll be fine. He always gets bored eventually, leaving you to do as you please. That’s what you’ll aim for.

“It’s not that. I just have stuff to do tomorrow, and I don’t like being exhausted. It’s my long shift.” 

His trademark grin melts away, furrowing eyebrows and a grimace taking its place. Mentioning your life outside of him is a tricky battle, and you can’t help but regret mentioning it. Being in a sleep deprived state is a major disadvantage in your interactions with him.

“This again? I thought I told you to quit. Rent or whatever won’t be an issue, I’ll handle it.” Dabi scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your bare shoulder. His skin feels rough against yours, coarse hands rubbing circles into  you. You bite your lip at the sensation, hair on the back of your neck standing. 

“I... I like my job. Sure, it can be irritating at times, but it gives me something to do during the day. I’d go stir crazy without something concrete to focus on.” The words are heartfelt, unfiltered. When he responds in silence you worry you’ve made a mistake, upsetting him with your defiance.

He huffs against your neck, lifting his head and shooting you a displeased look.  His voice is a low murmur, one that reverberates into the core of your very being. “Always making trouble for me..." 

Dabi’s grip around you tightens, and you gulp thickly. With how casual he speaks to you, it can be easy to forget the major power imbalance. Instead of greeting you with insults, or worse, he lightly flicks your forehead.

You blink, baffled.

“Don’t most people hate their jobs? I figured you’d be jumping at the idea of having more free time, or whatever. So you can focus on other things.” 

It’s not a confession you were expecting, your cheeks flushing at the considerate nature of his words. While it’s true quitting your job is an appealing thought, it creates a semblance of balance within your now chaotic life. Helping you stick to a schedule, in the same way school used to. 

Now feeling confident in expressing yourself, your taut muscles relax into his touch. “I’m too tired to think about it properly, if I’m being honest. I don’t know how you can stay up this late all the time without losing it.” 

Deflecting from the previous topic makes you feel better. If Dabi notices your intentions he doesn’t point them out, allowing you to take control of the conversation without complaint. He must prefer it over when you’d just shake and cry in his presence.

“You get used to it, sweetheart,” he drums his fingers against you, smirking. “I’ll make a night owl outta you yet.” 

Any implications in his words go straight over your head.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I think I’ll pass. ” 

He shrugs at your indifference, removing his arms from your frame. The lack of enveloping warmth causes you to shiver, Dabi searching through his bag. You peak over his shoulder out of curiosity, his scarred hands settling on an object which he pulls out. 

It’s a copy of Animal Crossing, in all of its beautiful glory. You wipe your eyes, unsure if what you’re seeing is reality.

“W-what?” you guffaw before your brain has the chance to stop you, jaw agape and head tilted. Dabi places it on your lap, and returns to his previous position of holding you. There’s clear amusement in his eyes at your stunned state, relishing in your every reaction.

“Did I get the wrong thing? This is that game you wanted, isn’t it?” 

It had to have been a week or so ago. You lamented to him about not being able to afford this, not even realizing he was giving it any attention. To think he remembered, and acted on it for your sake... is a touching sensation. Maybe he is capable of selflessness after all.

The cute box art puts a smile on your face, one that Dabi stares at. 

“I have to say, I’m surprised,” you pick it up, looking at the back with wide eyes. “Did the cashier give you a funny look when you picked this out?” 

‘I really need to start thinking before I speak.’

He shakes his head at your blunt comment, not taking any offense. “I didn’t get it that way.”

‘Oh, well... better not ask more than necessary. There’s no blood on it so at least that’s a good sign.’

Wiggling free from his grip, you rotate your legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting your switch. An opportunity like this must be taken advantage of, and you’ve wanted to play this game for some time now. Dabi must’ve read your mind, and pulls you back to him with little effort before you get the chance. 

“If I remember correctly, you said you were tired just a few minutes ago.” 

He plucks the game from your fingers, and places it on the side furthest from you. What a cruel world this is, to have paradise so close and yet so far. You can’t help the pout that forms at his actions.

“The situation changed, I’m wide awake now.” you explain to an unmoved Dabi, launching over his lap to get your coveted game back. He picks it up, lifting it over your head with a chuckle. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

Defeat settling in, you retreat for now. A sigh leaves your lips, arms crossing over your chest. You should’ve known better, Dabi has made it clear to you that he wants your attention. Looks like you’ll have to wait until after work to get a taste of Animal Crossing. 

There’s a glint of mischievous in his azure eyes, one that you’ve seen more often than you wish. Dabi sighs in mock hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “Not even so much as a thank you for my efforts. That’s cold, babe. Real cold.” 

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Thank you, it means a lot.” 

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s not what I was looking for. Try again, sweetheart.” 

A flurry of thoughts fly through your mind, all competing with one another to offer a solution. Does he want money for it? He should know that you’re not capable of producing that amount, or you would’ve bought the game for yourself. Dabi gives you a moment to think, before offering the answer to you.

He puts his pointer finger on your lip, maintaining eye contact while doing so. 

“Oh, t-that.”

“So glad to see that you’re finally catching on.” 

It could be the summer heat winning over your AC, the room suddenly feeling warmer than it did a few moments prior. You look down at your blankets, focusing on anything other than the person in front of you. This level of teasing is nothing new with Dabi, he always manages to fluster you. 

He sits, relaxed, waiting for you to make a move. There aren’t any other options that you can think of, so you give into what he wants. Moving closer to his face, you feel his warm breath fanning against your skin. Your hand twitches, pressing against his chest to offer balance.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you tilt your head, soft lips brushing over his own. All of your movements are hesitant, your entire body feeling like it’s on fire. Heart pounding violently against your chest, you move to pull back. Only to discover his hand on the back of your head is stopping you from doing so.

Dabi slants his lips back over your own, nibbling your bottom lip. You freeze, the unexpected affection leaving you incapable of reacting. It’s when you squeak that he finally loosens his grip, opening his eyes to take in your embarrassed countenance. 

All things considered, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. 

You cover your burning face with your shaking hands, feeling the warmth emanating off of you. He makes it even worse by chuckling, the low rumble filling you with indignation. There never is hope of catching a break with Dabi. 

“You might be the one with a fire quirk after all,” he leans forward, placing a hand against your hot forehead. “Mm... that look you’re giving me is too much. You have to be doing it on purpose at this point.” 

Fed up with his relentless teasing, you smack his hand away and purse your lips. He props his arms behind his head, letting you glare at him to your heart’s content. From his lack of reaction, you get the feeling he isn’t too intimidated by you. 

“Whatever, I’m going to bed,” you huff, returning to your side and pulling up the blankets. He doesn’t make a move to stop you, and you take the opportunity to lay down on your side. Refusing to look at him, you focus on the wall. 

Dabi pokes your cheek, which you ignore. 

He lets out a long sigh at your antics, joining you underneath the covers. You hear shuffling behind you, and can’t help but wonder what it is that he’s up to. Maybe he’s succumbing to his own exhaustion, and will let you sleep in peace? What a perfect world it’d be if that’s the case.

The thought is entertained for three seconds before you’re pulled against his firm chest from behind, toned arms snaking around your torso and staying there. His body is always so warm. It doesn’t help that you’re already embarrassed from before. Dabi grumbles something incoherent, placing his head in the crook of your neck. 

Accepting the situation for what it is, you stop moving. He reaches over you to turn off the light, and darkness surrounds you once more. All you can hear are your own labored breaths, and rapidly pounding heart. It might be impossible to sleep like this. 

You’ll call out of work for tomorrow. 

“... Dabi?” you whisper, voice soft and barely audible. He grunts in response, nuzzling further into your neck. For the past few months, there’s been a thought that haunts you at every turn. One that you can never find an answer to, and have been too frightened to investigate beyond your own musings.

It’d be easy to play this off as sexual attraction alone, yet a voice in the back of your head says otherwise. That what Dabi feels for you goes beyond that, into a sinister territory that you want desperately to avoid. Why is it he’s patient -- borderline kind -- with you, yet cruel to everyone else? None of it makes logical sense, his actions erratic and seemingly without reason.

Maybe you shouldn’t know. Still, you ask, against your better judgement. 

“Why do you like me so much?” 

You feel how he smiles against the skin of your neck, the sensation stirring up unknown emotions within. He squeezes you against him once, letting out a low hum as he considers your words. While waiting for him to speak, you hold in a breath. 

“Dunno. Just do,” Dabi offers a noncommittal response, one that leaves you greatly unsatisfied. It seems he’s not even aware of it himself, the effect you have on him unlike anything he’s ever experienced. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” 

“... Alright, I won’t.” 

“Good. Now get some sleep, before I ask you to kiss me again.” 

[10millionyearsdungeon]

Reminiscence - Second Tempo

A/N: So! Second Tempo is a continuation of the First Tempo posted here. Just like the last, it’s part of the Haikyuu! HQ Server Collab; check out the rest of the work on the flaming smut pile.  ===================================================

“Oi, it’s Ukai. Leave a message.” “Oh, Keishin…” Your body writhed against your fingers, phone pressed against your ear as another gasping moan ripped through you. The pads of your fingertips glided over your sensitive nub effortlessly as you grinned into the phone balanced between your shoulder and your ear. The game of cat and mouse had been going on for well over six months between yourself and Keishin; the ceaseless war of attrition had the teams and your students wondering who would break first. An international volleyball conference had you and the Karasuno girls’ team pulled away from Miyagi, from the handsome coach with those sharp, leering eyes.

“I know you’re away for training camp with the team…But I need you, Keishin.” Lust coated every syllable, each word dripping with desire as your fingers teased over your nipples and dripping folds. Another lascivious moan echoed into the receiver as you slipped a single dainty finger into your twitching hole. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off of myself…god, I wish it was your fingers slipping inside this tight, needy hole…” Sprawled out on your hotel room bed fresh from a shower, your wet hair plastered itself against your neck as you continued to rock into your own hand. 

He invaded your thoughts; like intrusive kudzu he wrapped himself around your senses even halfway across the world. Did he know how you had ruined two pairs of panties at the last voicemail he sent you before the girls’ last match that day? Did he realize how desperate you were to be home? Could he hear it in your voice? 

“Keishin,” you whined out, fingertip just brushing your g-spot. With a soft growl, you snatched your phone from your ear and put the device on speaker so you could angle yourself to reach deeper. With your body able to contort a little easier, the phone rested next to your flushing face against the pillowcase. Your body jolted into waves of pleasure as your legs tensed into your stroking. “Fuck, I can’t wait to come home, oh fuck, oh fuck, Keishin…”

The familiar stars dotted your vision as you bucked into your hand, clit rubbing fitfully into the meat of your delicate palm. You could almost see the flash of bleached-blond hair, the tanned skin stretched across those long, toned forearms. Painfully arching your wrist to drive your curling fingers into that familiar, soft spot you clenched tightly around your thin digits. You couldn’t fight the orgasm that threatened to overtake you quicker than anticipated. “Oh, fuck, Kei…Keishin!” Your words were gasping, breathless sounds, the same sounds he took pride in drawing out of you. 

“It should be your cock I’m cumming on. Why isn’t it your cock, Keishin? Fuck, I…” Another cry left you trembling as you came around your fingers. The ecstacy you felt solo was a pale shade of what you had grown used to with the snarky coach. You whimpered into the phone and shifted the sheets around you, arms hopelessly searching for him in the stark white abyss of your hollow afterglow. 

“I can’t wait to see you, Keishin…Until then,” you closed and hung up the phone. A small grin bloomed over your features as you came down from your brief high. The back and forth of phone tag and stolen video chats for the past week made you long for the thug-faced twenty-something coach fiercer than you could imagine. For the moment, the extra pillows in your bed would have to suffice as a sub-par substitute before you could nuzzle into the warmth and inhale the smoke and sweat from his skin again.

~

It was a long day of drills and penalties for the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club at the joint training camp with Fukurodani and Nekoma. The boys continued to run themselves full tort against the other two teams, trying to refine and rebuild their skills on the court. Keishin found himself getting frustrated with the lack of progress the team was making, even considering the upperclassmen were bordering on complacency. Daichi assured him they were trying their best and maybe it was time for their coach to take a break. 

He ambled from the gym with a lazy kind of grace and fumbled for his cigarettes and phone from his pockets. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the voicemail notification he saw across the screen. The tiniest of cocky grins stretched his mouth into a crooked curve as his thumb hovered over the play button. “Damn, must’ve just missed her,” he sighed, pressing play and holding the phone to his ear. The second your moan, your deliciously sinful voice graced his ears his face heated up and his ears flushed a deep red. Your voice went straight to the growing tent in his sweats, an ache he would be sure you repay you for in kind when you returned. The wailing fit on the other end was audible to passers by as the flustered coach turned the volume down with thick, numb thumbs. A dark-haired Fukurodani student passed by, green eyes narrowed at the coach’s flustered appearance and wordlessly made his way into the gym, no doubt to start another four-on-four match with the boys of Karasuno. At the end of your message, Keishin leaned into the brick of the gym and finally lit his cigarette. He took a long drag, longer than he would have normally if it wasn’t for your scintillating voicemail. Once his heart slowed, his thumbs furiously typed out a reply. K- You could have warned me, little girl. Y- And ruin the surprise? You liked it. :)

K- Time and place. Y- Is that all you have to say? :( This different timezone stuff is the worst, Keishin.

K- That’s something we can agree on. It’s just another day, right? Y- I’ll be home the day after tomorrow. Closing ceremonies run until tomorrow afternoon, but flight leaves a day after. K- Text me next time, little girl. And tell the girls to kick ass during their last exhibition match. Y- Does it make you mad that my team’s doing better than yours, Mr. Big Bad Daddy Crow? >:D

K- Just wait, little girl. You haven’t earned your wings yet. We’ll see how much fight you have in you with my hand around that pretty neck of yours and your lips wrapped around my cock. 

He chuckled darkly at the thought of your ruined face, chest heaving, gasping for oxygen as he held your lips against the hilt of his cock. He knew you well enough to know that your face would be about thirty shades redder than his was listening to your siren song after reading his message. God, you were never more beautiful to him than when you were sobbing out for release, begging for him to make you his. Fewer things kept him warmer at night when his wide palm wrapped around his cock than thoughts of you with that lewd, haunting passion playing in your eyes. When you didn’t reply, he shook his blond head and snuffed out his smoldering cigarette filter against the wall. Of course you’d have your fingers stuffing your cunt; it couldn’t compare to his touch. He adjusted his headband deftly and pocketed his phone again, only glancing down at his cock, half-mast for a moment before another distraction pulled him away from his thoughts. Two days were going to feel like an eternity. At least he had your voice in his pocket. 

~

You yawned as your girls took the court in their last match against the American team. The manager eyed you suspiciously as you blearily watched the game unfold. “Long night, Coach?” You nodded and hummed, rubbing your eyes. The boy stood a whole head taller than you, appraising your drowsy visage. “Must be hard being away from home.” “Mmmhm. It’s easy to miss home from so far away.” “I’m sure Coach Ukai feels the same way, Y/n.” “Toshi!” Your tone was scandalized in your chiding as the younger boy stifled a chuckle. “We should be focusing on the girls. How do you think they’ll do today?” He smiled, pride swelling as he watched his team warm up. “It’s been a long week.” “They’re tired, but they’ll push through. We’ve taken the W with less in the tank before.” It was your turn to feel proud of your girls. It was true– their rise to the top, for the acknowledgement that came with the invite to a tourney on the international stage was huge, even if it was just an exhibition tourney. There was something about the game that kept you grounded despite the tumultuous turns of your life. It brought you back to those long-thought forgotten memories, brought you closer to your high-school crush. Part of you was glad you took on coaching the counterpoint to the boys’ club; it brought meaning to your career to that point. “Michimiya! Remember, it’s supposed to be fun!” you called out to your team captain, Toshi nodding in agreement solemnly from the sidelines. Aihara, your ace nodded and gave a quick thumbs up before the ball went into play. Before the other team had a chance to receive the serve, your attention was pulled from the court to the vibrating phone in your tracksuit pocket. You had half a mind to silence it, leave it ignored and let it go to voicemail. Your attention should have been on your team, your girls, but… You pulled the phone from your pocket and bit your lip at the sight of his name reading across the screen. You excused yourself from the sidelines and made your way to the hallway leading to the locker room, bringing the device to your ear. “You were gonna keep me waiting, little girl? That’s no way to earn your wings,” his voice rasped out between hurried pants. “Oh, fuck…” Heat crept up your neck from your neat, white tracksuit jacket. Suddenly, everything was too hot. You worried your lip between your teeth and fought back a whimper as Keishin growled in your ear. You did some quick maths in your dazed state and gasped into your phone. “You should be asleep, Keishin! It’s nearly two in the morning…” “Couldn’t sleep, not when I had to get you back, naughty little girl. Did it feel good cumming on those fingers without me? Did it satisfy you knowing you were cumming without my permission? Was it worth it?” “I…” “Answer me, little girl,” he continued to groan, the sound of skin gliding across skin caressing your eardrums between his moans. You could practically feel his smug expression over the phone. The sinful breath on your ear had you wishing you could be there to watch, to touch him and run your fingers through his hair as he worked his cock in that large hand he loved to wrap around your blushing throat. “I’m waiting,” he teased. “It can’t compare,” you whispered, striding with hurried steps into the locker room. His voice frayed at the edges and had you practically dripping down your thighs under your track pants. The power his voice had over your body was undeniable. “I couldn’t help myself. I…” “Aw, poor little bird. At least you’re honest.” You tried to swallow around the lump in your throat at the nickname, but struggled. Mouth dry and thighs coated in your slick, you struggled to find your way back to reason, to the here and now. Half a world away, you sunk to the locker room bench and let out a shuddering sigh at the sound of the other coach’s debauched moans. He was close, that much you could tell. How long had he been stroking that thick cock? Was he imagining your lips cradling his glans, your saliva dripping down his balls? Could he see you dragging his head along your lips and your eyes peering up at him through a fringe of dark lashes? How many times did he listen to your voicemail before he thought to call you and dish out a dose of your own medicine? “Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me like I need you, little girl.” “I…I want you,” you whimpered, balancing your phone between your shoulder and your ear. You fumbled with your track pants and slid them hastily to your knees, your practiced fingers rubbing yourself through your soaked cotton panties. “Oh, Keishin, I need you.” You bit back a soft moan, still tender from your activities from the night prior. “That’s it, little bird. Don’t stifle yourself. Let me hear you. Where did that gorgeous voice go?” “I…Keishin, I’m at the tournament,” you gasped, that sensitive nub twitching with arousal under your busy fingertips. He let out a surprised grunt and you swore you could feel him double over on himself. “Fuck…fuck, Y/n, I never took you to be such an exhibitionist. My little bird’s getting brave on me, huh?” The sound of the door to the locker room opening made you freeze for a second before shuffling your pants back up your thighs. “Coach? Coach, are you okay? The other team’s called a time-out. Did you want to do a swap?” Toshi’s earnest voice echoed in the otherwise empty room as you struggled to get the words out without sounding like you were another second away from moaning like a porn star for the man on the other side of your call. “Answer him, little bird. Don’t stop touching that clit for me. Let’s see you earn those wings…” “Ah…yeah, have Watabe swap in. I…I need a minute. Must have been something I ate this morning.” Keishin grinned on the other end, still stroking himself languidly as he listened to you lie through your teeth to your team manager. When you heard him retreat back into the gym, you let out a shuddering sigh, your legs trembling around your hand. “Such a good little bird. I’m close. You gonna come with me?” You nodded as if he could see you, still focused on the sounds coming from your phone. His breath hitched as he choked on his moans, movement stilling on his end of the phone call. You gasped in tandem, fingertips slipping inside your waiting heat. He must have known you were close based on your breathing alone. He let you continue until he howled out his release, leaving you breathless at how completely beautiful he could sound coming undone at the thought of you. “Please, please, Keishin,” you huffed out, sweat trickled down your neck as you ground yourself into your fingers, stretching against your slick, velveteen walls. “Stop.” “But-” “I said stop, Y/n.” “But…but Keishin…” “Naughty little girls don’t get to cum when they’re bad. Mm, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck, Y/n,” he teased again before hanging up. You sat in silence, frustrated and slick with your own fluids. Aggravated, you pulled your pants up the rest of the way and stripped off your jacket. Approaching the sink, you patted cool water against your burning skin and stared yourself down in the mirror. So it was another challenge he wanted? You had him eating crow out of your beautifully manicured hands before and you could do it again. Your team wouldn’t be the only ones getting a win. A plan came together, neatly, quickly despite the lingering haze of lust. Spite and frustration cut through your need like a white hot razor, and all you could fixate on was the thrill of victory both on and off the court. “Setters aren’t the only big brains on the court,” you mused to yourself as you reappeared on the court, hands buried deeply into your pockets. Toshi cast a sidelong glance in your direction, subtly taking in the hard set of your jaw and the color rising in your cheeks as you stared down the opposing team’s coach from across the gym. You grit your teeth, eyes dark with determination. If he wasn’t mistaken, he almost thought you were taking this game more seriously than just a simple exhibition match. Regardless of the reason, the team manager found himself grateful he wasn’t the object of your ire. “Hit it ‘til it breaks, Sasaki!!” Your yell rattled the team manager as it echoed through the gym over the roar of the crowd. The puddle in your panties only fueled your frustration the longer you dwelled on Keishin’s denial. You wanted to breathe smoke, to destroy something beautiful just to prove you could. “Stupid, big-brain setter,” you growled under your breath as your team took another point from the Americans. “Coach, why do I get the feeling you aren’t talking about the other team?” “C’mon, girls, you’re better conditioned than that!! Go for the kill!!” “Yeah, you’re definitely not talking about the other team.” The conference couldn’t be done soon enough, and the next two days were going to feel like the longest of their lives. ~ Few things in life brought Keishin Ukai more solace than quiet mornings over a cup of coffee. The only thing that could have made it better was your groggy face smiling sleepily across the table at him. Sunlight bled through the kitchen blinds, staining everything in garish gold and yellow in the pale light. Hair loose, he carded his long fingers through his bedhead with casual grace and absently scrolled through his phone as the coffee continued to brew. It would be just a few hours before you would be home; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited for your return. In the safety of his home, he could let some of that boyish glee bleed out as he searched through your old photos. As if he could forget your face, the sway of those devastating hips, or the way you’d catch your lower lip between your teeth when you were flustered. As much as he owned you, the power you held over him and his emotions was undeniable. From the moment you stepped foot on his court he was your willing captive. He set his phone aside to pour himself his first of what would be many cups of coffee. He allowed himself a moment to bask in the heady aroma, dark and bitter before it hit his tongue. Relaxing in his seat a little more, he sighed through his nose. The chiming of a text alert pulled him from his brief reprieve. Y- Good morning, Daddy Crow :D! We’ll be home in a few hours. I can’t wait to see you. Keishin chuckled into his steaming mug and took a long sip. Wryly amused and even a little annoyed by your pet name for him, he typed out his reply unhurried. K- We’ll see how tired you are when you get back. Ten hours and change is a long time to spend in the air.

Y- Don’t remind me. No idea what I’m going to do to stay occupied. 

K- I can think of a few distractions. 

He waited, watching the ellipsis flicker over the text banner for your reply, his heart rate picking up in anticipation. What fresh hell awaited him when you finally hit send? Vaguely he had an idea of how badly you wanted to get back at him for leaving you hanging during his last call, but you were too sweet, far too forgiving to want revenge. Y- I’m sure you can. What do you have lined up for today?

K- Not a thing. Just waiting on you. It wasn’t like you to not take his bait; he could practically feel the ice from your reply. Was it the distance? You were only gone for a week, but was it enough time for your relationship to cool? “Shit,” he muttered, rolling a cigarette between his fingers as he reread your reply another six times. “Guess she is mad…” He mused and fussed over your text before lighting the paper tip and taking a careless drag. The blue-gray haze hung around his kitchen like a comforting veil. He waited another moment before he saw you typing another response. He tore his gaze away from the device to ash his cigarette in an empty beer bottle he had sitting on the kitchen table; when he returned to it, the sight that met him had him melting in his chair. Your delicate frame was seated on a sea of white, the barest hint of emerald lace curling in elegant patterns along the swell of your ass. Hair pulled to one side in effortless waves of jet, your bare back was on full display, tantalizing him with the gentle curve of your spine and adorable dimples framing your tailbone. Your face in profile, he could see the faint rose dusting your cheeks and nose, the dreamy sparkle playing in your eyes as you held your breasts away from view. He knew that far-away gaze all too well– it played behind your eyes when you would look at him, when you would think about his strong hands exploring your body. His eyes lingered on the definition of your thighs, all the while longing he could feel them squeezing his head as you trembled into his waiting mouth. It wasn’t the lewdest photo he’d ever seen, but it hit differently when it was you. His mouth went dry and he felt himself get lost in every detail, as if he could memorize every scar, every freckle if he stared long enough. Y- Enjoy your distraction, Keishin.

When did you find the time to take photos? Was that the only one? Questions raced through his mind as he lingered on the picture, fingertip tracing along the swell of your hips. God, he was such a sucker for those wide hips and built thighs. He might have admired your drive and ability to keep up and run drills with your team, but he really wanted to see just how far he could push you until you broke.

“It’s just ten more hours. I can hold out for ten hours.” ~ Six months together and it took a week apart for him to salivate over the smell of your perfume. All the distance, despite the frequent calls and text messages, only intensified his undeniable thirst. You were his meet-cute, the high school crush who got away. There would always be that part of him that wondered how he got so lucky crossing your path not once but twice in his lifetime. If he were a betting man, he’d probably put more stock in fate or soulmates after meeting you, but it wasn’t his style to be so sentimental. Travel always took a lot out of you. Keishin caught you yawning on your way from the baggage claim, only aware enough to know where to step without tripping. Grinning like a fiend, he took his moment and pulled you into an empty lounge. Startled, you swung your first and jerked out of his hold, only stopping your thrashing when you caught the bemused twenty-something rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Fucking hell, is that anyway to say hello, little girl?” “Oh my god, Keishin!” Your hands flew to his face and he could have died a happy man on the spot. “I’m so sorry! You can’t just do that!” Your chest tightened at the rumbling chuckle that reverberated under your fingertips. “Keishin,” you sighed, holding his stubbled face in your thin hands. Studying the sharp planes of his face, your eyes practically sparkled with delight. He was here, real under your palms flashing that same cocksure grin that had you flustered since you first stepped up to challenge him on the court. “You gonna keep staring at me or what, little bird? C’mon, let’s ge-!” Rising to your toes, you pulled him to your lips and left him struggling to catch his breath, your perfume lingering after you withdrew and bounced away, tugging him along from the airport lobby. Head swimming, he followed, allowing you to lead him around until you remembered who drove and the simple fact that you had no idea where the car was. It was easy to forget you were an accomplished adult when you let your excitement take the wheel, but it brought Keishin closer to what might have been before you disappeared when you were still children. He never got the chance to watch you play back then, a regret he tucked away with the first night you murmured his name in your sleep. His single-minded ambition kept him from really seizing the chance to get to know you as a person instead of an idea back then. Packed away in his well-loved sedan, you couldn’t help but fidget in the passenger seat, anxiously bouncing your foot below the dash. Unfazed, he reached over and placed a hand on your knee, halting the bouncing movement with a stern glance. Color bloomed in your cheeks at the gesture, body relaxing just enough under the warmth of his palm. Braver still, he slowly ran his fingertips along the line of your thigh, stopping just below the clothed apex of your leg. Keishin never took his eyes off the road, but he knew just where to brush to make your blood sing. He followed your movements, subtly tracking your reactions to his innocent caressing. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, little bird.” 

The bait was set, almost painfully obvious as you continued to squirm into his waiting palm. “I’m not shy. I’m..”

“You’re what? Use your words,” he smirked, dragging his knuckles against your sex. The motion was so casual you might have applauded him for his audacity if it hadn’t been a week since you felt him touch you. Muddled between your jet lag and the growing haze of lust ensnaring your senses, you fumbled over your words and whimpered something about thinking about how much you missed him. “That’s what I thought.” Whether it was the nonchalance or the gentle pressure he exerted on your core, you felt yourself slip closer into that familiar euphoric headspace. It was almost embarrassing how wrapped around his finger he had you; it wouldn’t be long before he’d have you wrapped around him literally as well. 

~

You wanted to scream, to gnash your teeth and beat something to a bloody pulp. At least you could take out your frustrations on the court. The girls took the day to strength train in the school’s weight room, leaving you to your own devices in the second gym. You could see his almost-apologetic face, the slight upturn of his lips when he sent you to work with a chaste peck on your hair. 

“I just couldn’t bear to wake you…”

“Tch, likely story. Stupid, big-brain setter!” You hissed through your teeth and imagined it was his disembodied head you were spiking over the net with a satisfying crack. Your attentive team manager threw another ball and watched as you continued to fume. 

“Are you trying to pop a ball, sensei?" 

"Less talk, more throw, Toshi.” He shook his head and tossed another ball, only for you to bounce it off the floor twice to center yourself before your inevitable spike. Unsatisfied, you shook your ponytail and jogged to the opposite end of the gym to practice your jump serve. Toshi watched on, hanging his head as you sent another ball flying in his direction. “Jesus Christ, Himewari!” he screeched, ducking out of the way. You huffed in irritation, barely registering the clattering of gym doors opening. The ball rested daintily in your hand, your eyes narrowed with the smooth rubber leaving your palm before the inevitable punch. Keishin knew better than to leave the safety of the annex when you were serving, but he could watch you soar forever. Leaned against the cool wall, his headband gently digging into his scalp with his blond head resting into the drywall, he couldn’t help the crinkle of his eyes when your hand finally connected with the abused ball. Sweat glistened like diamond dust on your skin, the crop top you wore doing nothing to temper his wandering gaze. As you hung in the air, he hummed to himself, remembering Shimizu’s words when he first saw you serve. “You really do have wings, little bird…” When you landed and reached for another ball he made his presence known, his footsteps falling faintly over your light panting. This was how he liked you best, dark hair mussed and sweat dripping down the valley of your breasts. It was almost a shame, he thought to himself, that he wasn’t the one making you such a mess. He stopped just a few feet behind you only to catch the tail end of your cursing his name for leaving you high and dry on your return. As if sensing the change in the atmosphere, like catching the faint scent of ozone on the wind before a squall, Toshi took his leave and escaped into the weight room, leaving you alone with the other coach. Caught mid-approach, Keishin wrapped his arms around your smaller frame and buried his nose into your ponytail. You froze at the sudden intrusion of your personal space and the ball fell from your waiting palm, its fall echoing through the empty gym. “Thought I’d find you here,” he purred. Hackles raised, you pushed away from him and made a dash for your club jacket. Keishin used his height and longer legs to his advantage and followed close behind. If it was a chase you wanted, he’d give it to you. He let you sprint to the locker room, hand resting on the handle before he turned you by the shoulders and caged you against the wall between his arms. Looming over you, he smirked and licked his lips at the deepening flush creeping down your neck and across your collarbones. He smelled like tobacco and neroli, his cologne making your head spin. The smoke lingering on his breath had your thoughts racing– you were in high school again, fantasizing about being trapped in those arms with those sharp eyes drinking your timid expression so patiently. “What’s the matter, little girl?” he started smugly. His pupils dilated, leaning his head in to bear down on you further. “Can’t rise to the challenge? Where’d all that fight go?” Keishin licked his teeth and breathed into your ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” he teased, running his nose along your hairline. Your breath hitched; how did he always know how to make you feel so small? The thought incited more anger, more fuel to the fire burning in your belly as you jerked your ear away from his hot breath. “No, you don’t get to do that. I’m not going to let you win that easily, Keishin.” Your voice was low, almost dangerous. The animosity was one-sided, and the other coach snickered at your new-found boldness. “I don’t think you get it, little bird,” he growled, wrapping a firm hand around your thin neck. “I’ve already won.” Swallowing hard, you worried your lower lip between your teeth, his favorite tell, and stared him in the eye. The predatory gleam made you weak in the knees– he knew it. He could feel you falter under his capable palm as he gave your neck a gentle squeeze. Keishin loved seeing you like this– wrestling between reason and your desires, pinned beneath him with that fire burning behind your eyes as if to remind him that you only permitted his control because you knew how completely yours he really was. The nip of his teeth on your earlobe sent you reeling, swooning into his stubbled cheek. “Please,” you whispered. “Not here.” “No? You sure?” As if to capitalize on your wavering resolve, he raised a knee to rest just between your thighs, a silent dare to test him and see just how far he’d make you go. Instinctively, you ground your pelvis against his knee and shuddered at the delicious pressure on your core. He grinned against your cheek. “Because I think this is exactly where you want it.” Hips rocking, your anger slowly melted away as he continued to tease you, still pinning you to the door by the throat. “I think you like the idea of almost getting caught, little bird.” Your whimpers doused kerosine on the slow burning embers he stoked with his teasing. “Keishin,” you gasped, his free hand trailing down your sticky body to pull your hip hard into his waiting erection, grip hard enough you were sure you’d have bruises by the time he was done. “We don’t-” “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you then.” Your thighs squeezed around his knee, cunt fluttering at the thought of your combined spend trickling down your thighs on the walk home. His grin was sinful, eyes sharp and hungry as you melted into his knee. He could feel your slick soaking through your shorts, the sensation earning a groan you just barely made out. “Mark you as my little crow inside and out,” he purred, long fingers feathering along the waistband of your shorts. “Yeah, I think you like that idea.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” You caught his gaze through your dark lashes, leaning into his hand and waiting hips as if to lay your own bait. Your own hands caught in his hair and pulled his headband down. How you loved running your fingers through those blond waves; you rolled your hips and gave his hair an experimental tug, earning a low groan in return. He surged forward and captured your lips, a fight for dominance to the end. Tongue tracing hungrily along the curl of your lips, he softened his hold on your neck and pulled you closer. Hand on your nape, he let out a hiss when you bit him, a flash of blood lingering on your lip in return with a satisfied grin. “Oh, cocky now?” Keishin gave your shorts a shove over your generous hips. Anxiety and excitement bubbled in your chest as you squirmed against him. He was still hard muscle and sinew despite years away from the court, more than enough to handle you at your worst. “Let’s see you be cocky now, little bird.” His fingers glided along your sopping cunt, earning a sharp moan at the sudden brush along your neglected clit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fuck,” he breathed, too enraptured by your responsive body. “Keishin, please,” you whimpered, clutching his shoulders as his deft fingers continued to tap and rub slow, agonizing circles around your glistening clit. “Please, please fill me…” “How quickly your resolve falls apart, my little crow,” he purred into your hair, fingers now sliding into your drooling pussy. You bit back another moan, head arching back into the door as Keishin scissored his fingers against your already fluttering walls. “You’re fucking drenched.” “Please, please…I need you. I need to feel you, Keishin.” Legs trembling, you rocked into his hand, keening at the pressure his hardened fingertips exerted on your g-spot. Even accidentally, he had a way of luring out the most beautifully debauched moans from you. He continued to work you open, trying to make up for a week without laying claim to you in the span of minutes. Keishin growled low, feeling himself get lost in your whining, in the warm squeeze of your welcoming cunt around his fingers, in how completely devoted he was to hearing you moan his name like that one more time. You heard the zip after you felt the lonesome ache of loss, only to be filled again to the hilt with a gasping cry. Keishin grit his teeth and leaned into your writhing frame, bracing himself against the door as you squeezed his cock from head to hilt like a velvet vice. “W-wrap your leg around my hip,” he ordered shakily, peering at you through a curtain of soft gold. You did as instructed and felt him wrap his arm around your back, pulling you closer as he rocked into your heat with a moan of his own. “So fucking tight, Y/n…” Stars faded throughout your vision and left you feeling dazed. “So good,” he moaned, resting his forehead against yours to glance down where your bodies connected. You balanced on your toes, meeting his thrusts with your own. “Keishin,” you cried in return, arching your back off the locker room door as your first climax claimed you. Keishin grit his teeth and fucked you through the first of many, angling his hips to drive his cock deeper still, earning a harsh shriek. “Keishin, don’t stop!” “Wasn’t planning on it,” he groaned, bottoming out with a stutter. “It’s like you were made for me.” You let out another cry, clinging to the coach as tears pricked your eyes. He rutted against your cervix with a pained grin, knowing the longer he pressured against that button the sooner you’d be begging to be filled and defiled. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he sighed, slowing as your walls clenched around his cock with the advent of another orgasm. You trembled helplessly against him, body practically weightless in his arms as he continued to prolong your pleasure if only to draw out his own. When you came down, you brushed your nose along his and gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Toes curling in your trainers at the devastating sight in front of you, you gave another keening cry and buried your face into his shoulder. “Y’know, for someone so worried about being caught you sure are loud.” He grinned into your hair and hammered his hips into yours, earning another loud wail in protest and in pleasure. Your nails caught the tanned skin of his back, a vicious trail of red left in their wake as he brought you to another peak. “That’s three…” You bucked against him, fitfully chasing again after that same high only his cock could bring you. His name a prayer on your lips, he allowed you to take because you gave him so much in return. Every moan, every gush of your juices around his cock he took and devoured, knowing you wouldn’t be afraid to earn his end in return. “I can feel you twitching, Keishin. You’re close, Daddy Crow.” His hips stuttered as you whispered the pet name into his ear, holding you tightly as he bottomed out in your spasming cunt. “Hard not to when you’re fucking milking me.” He’d never admit it, but he would stay buried inside you forever if you’d let him. Only the unsynchronized whisper of your breathing and the slick slap of skin on skin surrounded the two of you in the empty gym. Entangled with the other coach in the darkened hallway, you found his lips to muffle another moan when your attention was pulled away from your bliss by the slamming of the gym doors. 

"Coach Himewari! We’re getting ready to go!” It was Michimiya your team captain. Her footfalls echoed softly, rubber tapping against the laminated wood. She paused for a moment when you didn’t answer. Keishin grinning sadistically against your lips, he held your hips flush against his, grinding his cock into that spot that frayed the edges of your vision and made your quiver around his girth. “Hm, I guess she already left…” the team captain mused before shuffling closer to the locker room door, only to quickly turn away at the opening of the door. 

“Come on, Yui! Let’s just go! Toshi can catch us up later.” Grateful for Aihara pulling her friend’s focus, you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. Keishin redoubled his efforts, dragging his teeth along the hollow of your neck. Even muffled your moans were music to his degenerate ears. You stiffened against him with the sinking of his teeth into your neck, a stifled cry and final squeeze signaling your end. Keishin wasn’t too far behind, growling into your salt-slicked skin. The heavy doors clattered shut as he moaned out his release, the heat building in your core as he spasmed into your waiting womb. 

“Fuck me, Keishin…” you breathed, half chuckling half panting. He held against you, comfortable in your combined heat as he peppered soothing kisses along your neck and into your hairline. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you like almost getting caught.”

He hissed, slowly withdrawing from your core and watched as his cum slowly started trickling from your pulsating hole down your sturdy thighs. He tucked himself back into his jeans and watched you languish against the wall for a moment, playful grin lighting his face. Deftly he collected the escaping seed and shoved it back into your abused cunt, earning a pained whimper before he pulled your panties and shorts back up to keep the rest from spilling. “Don’t waste it, little crow.” He wiggled his fingers along your lips and you greedily sucked them clean with wide, innocent eyes. Your combined taste coated your tongue, sweet and bitter all at once. “That’s my good girl,” he crooned, planting a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. 

Your anger evaporated, you slumped against him, head resting comfortably into his chest. “I’m ready for a nap, daddy crow…” you whined. Blond hair slicked with swear, he carded those long fingers through and hoisted you up onto his shoulder, carrying you out of the gym with your mess ruining your panties and shorts. 

“Oh no you don’t. As soon as we get home you’re making up for every voicemail and tantrum, Y/n.” It was going to be a long night. 

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 3

Bakugo x Reader

Words: 4892

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with 'this' is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

***********************************************************************

Dabi had laid you down gently in the back seat of his car, taking off his jacket to lay over you. You wanted to fall asleep you really did. But the consistent pain coming from your hip was enough to keep you awake, but not enough for you to pass out. You hugged the jacket around you that smelled like smoke and coffee.

You don’t know much time passed but eventually you were being pulled from the backseat. He picked you up bridal style and made his way to the house, “Look at you. We’re not even married, and you already have me carrying you over the threshold.”

When you didn’t react to his little joke he sighed, “Wow tough crowd, okay.”

He walked straight to the couch and put you down before immediately jogging to the kitchen to grab some first aid supplies… amongst other things.

He came back and sat on the table that was in front on the couch and maneuvered you so your injured hip was accessible to him. “Okay this is going to sting for a little bit, but I’m going to need you to stay still until I’m done.” Without any more warning then that he poured what smelled like vodka on the wound.

It stung like a bitch, causing you to dig your nails into the cushion of the couch and grit your teeth so hard you were surprised they didn’t crack.

He started to wipe it down with some kind of cloth. Cleaning all the dried blood and sweat from you. You were practically panting now trying to breathe through the sharp pain. “That’s it. Keep breathing. Good girl. I’m almost done.” He taped a bandage over it before pulling your hoodie back down. “There. Good as new.”

He helped you sit up a little so he could give you a glass of water, which you were incredibly thankful for. “Alright… so I have all the good stuff. Anything you could want really.” He pulled out several bottles of pills.

You didn’t know what was in those bottles, but you knew you didn’t want any. You’ve had enough drugged out days to last a lifetime. So as much as you knew it’d help with the pain, you didn’t want it. You just met Dabi less than twelve hours ago. You didn’t know what kind of bullshit he’d pull once you went under.

You shook your head no and pointed to the bottle of vodka. You may not want pills, but a shot wouldn’t kill you.

He chuckled, “Okay tough guy. Whatever you say.” He walked back to the kitchen and returned with two of the biggest shot glasses you had ever seen. “Let’s get this party started huh?” He poured two shots and handed one to you. “To life off the grid.”

You both threw your shots back. He with no reaction, you however immediately started coughing.

His hand rubbed a circle on your back, “Look at you. Took it like a champ. Didn’t even need a chaser.” He poured another shot for himself and brought it up to his lips but stopped when he saw you looking at him. “What? You didn’t think I’d give you more than one, did you? Oh no, no, no. With how tiny you are? Not to mention your tolerance has probably gone to shit. I think one is plenty for now.”

Well jokes on him. Just because you seem weak doesn’t mean you are. He’s not going to tell you how much you can and can’t drink. You scooted to the edge of the couch, wincing a little as you did. You scooped up the bottle of vodka and took a swig straight from the bottle.

You saw something flash behind his eyes, but he immediately hid it behind a playful smirk, “I don’t know if you’re a badass or a brat. Only time will tell. But I’ll have you know that in my house… My word is law. I’m just trying to help you after all.” He tore the bottle from your hands before securing the lid, giving it an extra hard squeeze to keep you from opening it again. “But because this is your first night here, and you’re hurt, and I really am a nice guy. I’ll let it slide this once…. So? You still want some ice cream?”

You nodded as you reached for your notebook but was alarmed when you couldn’t find it. You could already feel the light feeling of a buzz taking over, but you refused to let Dabi know he was right about your tolerance.

“What’s up? What are you looking for?” You made a gesture with your hands as if you were writing something down. “Ah, right. The handy dandy notebook. It’s probably in the car. I’ll go grab it.” He took a few steps away before coming back to grab the bottle of vodka, mumbling something about how he refuses to clean up your puke.

You took this time while he was away to get a better look at the place. It was very minimalistic. Lots of greys, whites, and blacks. The couch felt just as expensive as the giant tv on the wall looked. From what you could see of the kitchen, it looked nice. The shiny appliances were either kept impeccably clean, or never used. Was this his house? It hardly looked lived in.

“Alright got the notebook. How about you pick something to watch while I scoop some ice cream. What do you want? One for Vanilla, two for chocolate, three for cookies and cream.”

You held up three fingers. You were amazed at how well he was adjusting to communicating with you already. He had just accepted that you weren’t talking and went with it.

“Cookies and cream huh? I thought you’d be more of a fan of vanilla.” He chuckled. “The remot is on the side table next to you. The TV is rigged so you can basically watch whatever you want. Just type it into the search bar.”

You picked up the remote and quickly started scanning through channels. Your finger accidentally brushed the microphone button and you froze at the loud beeping noise that signaled it was listening.

Dabi had made his way over with two bowls both with cookies and cream. He saw the face you made at the remote before taking it from you and replacing it with a bowl of ice cream. “Hey none of that pouty shit. It’s not cute. This is temporary, you’ll be talking again in no time.”

He looked at the screen, “Okay one for anime, two for live action.” You held up one finger. “Okay, One for thriller, two for action, three for comedy. Four for romance.” You held up two fingers. “Oh, thank god I really thought you were going to pick romance. Okay I’m going to scroll through them, just tap my shoulder when you want me to stop.”

He scrolled for a while before you stopped him at Naruto. “Ah a classic. Good pick. Now get comfy. I have a feeling you’re gonna pass out before the first episode is even over.”

Sure enough, soon after finishing your bowl of ice cream you felt your eye lids drooping. A part of you was still nervous to fall asleep. But seeing as you just had a wild 24 hours… there was no way in hell you were fighting sleep for long.

“You ready for bed yet?” You sleepily nodded your head and started to slide down so you could lay down on the couch. “Oh no you don’t.” He scooped you up and headed down a hallway. He entered a rather large room with a bathroom attached and tossed you onto the bed causing the wound in your hip to throb. “Okay welcome to you room, this your bed, that is your bathroom. I will be right across the hall. I’d say yell if you need something but… well you know. So… try to not need me. Have a good night.”

You grabbed his wrist before he could get far, “What don’t tell me you’re like afraid of the dark or something.” He turned around to see your blushing face as you pointed to the bathroom and then to yourself. “Ooooooh, okay. Right. So, is this like a you need to pee situation? Or did you like… want to shower? Not that I’m against helping you take a shower…” He smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes and held up one finger. “Okay, okay, but you will eventually have to shower. But I guess we can figure that out tomorrow.” There was a wicked gleam in his eye that could only be compared to a child who was plotting on how to steal a cookie from the cookie jar.

He had been pretty patient while waiting for you to finish going to the bathroom, but he was still just as rough as he tossed you back onto the bed. “Alright, so, to reiterate, I’m right across the hall. Try to not need me. Good night.”

You sank into the bed the second the door closed behind him. You were alone. You were free and you were alone. Twenty-four hours ago, you had been strapped to a bed with shock collar on. You curled into a ball and cried. You wanted this to be the last time you felt sorry for yourself, so you wanted to get it all out now. Tomorrow was the first day of your new life and you didn’t plan on wasting a single second of it.

It didn’t take long for you to cry yourself to sleep considering how exhausted you were. What would have surprised you however was the fact that Dabi was sitting just outside the door listening to you muffled sobs, clenching his fists in rage.

It wasn’t until he heard you screaming that he realized he had fallen asleep there. On his feet in seconds he ran into your room. What he saw shook him a little bit. You had kicked all of the blankets off the bed. Soaked in sweat and tears. Your body was jerking around so hard it looked painful. You were having a nightmare, likely due to PTSD.

Shit what did he do? He’s no stranger to bad dreams, but he also knows he could make it worse if he doesn’t do this right. “Hey y/n. Y/N! I need you to wake up honey. It’s just a dream. You’re safe. Y/n. Y/N! Come on now follow my voice. Wake up for me yeah? You’re okay, I promise.” He reached out and as lightly as he possibly could touched your cheek.

You were burning up. He cursed as he tried to peel your soaked hoodie off of you. He started to shake your shoulder a little harder. But all that did was make you panic and thrash around. So he grabbed you and held you to him. “God Damnit Y/n. Wake up!”

He felt the tension leave your body only for a moment before you started to try and push him off of you.

He immediately dropped his arms and pushed away from you. “Hey you’re okay. It’s just me. Remember your hero pals saved you yesterday and now we’re roomies.” He could see the confusion in your eyes start to fade as you woke up. “Believe me I understand. I’d be scared too if I woke up in a weird place with my ugly mug lookin at you.”

He reached for your journal and tried to hand it to you. “You want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and hugged your knees to your chest. He nodded and put the journal back on the nightstand. “That’s okay. You don’t have to…” He wasn’t very good at this part. Talking about emotions and shit. “Yeah so uh… I can get you a different shirt.” He could see the goosebumps already raising on your arms. Now that the panic and adrenaline had subsided you were damp and cold. “And I can get a warm bath going if you want? He looked at the clock. It’s 5:30, which in ungodly early for me, but if you’re up I guess we can go ahead and start the day… How does that sound?”

You refused to look him in the eye and settled for a shrug of your shoulders, letting your knees drop from your chest. He could see straight through your tank top and was pleasantly surprised to find that under that baggie hoodie you had some nice tits.

He liked his lips and lucky for him, you were too busy avoiding eye contact that you didn’t even notice. “Alright well I tried being nice in giving you an option so now I’m telling you. You’re taking a bath.” He picked you up and walked towards the bathroom. “I’ll get the water going. Do you think you can manage making it from the toilet to the tub without me?”

Again, you shrugged which was quickly becoming one of his biggest pet peeves. He groaned, “One for yes, two for no. No more fucking shrugging.”

You nodded and held up one finger. “Alright, that wasn’t that hard was it?”

Without waiting for an answer he knew he wasn’t going to get he started the water and left you to it.

He went out to the car to grab the backpack the mini might kid had packed for you. Then into his room to grab you a clean shirt. He was going to leave the items outside the bathroom door until he heard a thump followed by a groan.

“Y/n? Did you fall down?” A very long pause later and you hit the side of the tub once. “Okay do you need help getting up?” Another long pause before you hit the side twice. “Are you sure?” He desperately wanted you to say no. Not to sound like a perv, but he’d love to get a quick peek at you.

Two hits on the tub sounded. “Okay, I’m coming in.” He opened the door almost too quickly. There you were sitting on the floor, back against the tub, completely naked. He had expected you to try and hide yourself from view, but was shocked when you practically reached for him, baring your entire chest for him to drink in.

He stopped for a moment before picking you up. “I’m not going to pick you up like I usually do. Instead I’m going to help you stand, and hold you while you try to get in yourself. We gotta start working on those legs.” You looked nervous but nodded anyways.

He hooked his hands under your armpits and pulled against him in standing position. His pinkies barley brushing the outside of your breasts and even that little bit drove him crazy. But he contained himself. The last thing he needed was you randomly activating your quirk and figuring out what a horn dog he is.

You weakly attempted to raise your right leg high enough to get into the tub. You were almost there, you almost had it. “That’s it, you’re doing so well. Just a little more, come on you can do it.” Whether you knew it or not, your ass was pushing back into Dabi’s crotch and he wasn’t going to make it much longer. So he lifted you a little higher making it easier for you to step in. “OKAY, I think one leg is good enough progress for now.” He sat the rest of you in gently before quickly turning away calling over his shoulder, “Alright, I’ll be back in… ten minutes to help you back out.”

You waited until he was gone to let a small giggle out. It honestly took you by surprise. It was the first time you had made a noise that wasn’t out of pain in a while. But just remembering the blush of his cheeks when you reached for him was enough to have you smile to yourself.

Before all of this happened to you were no stranger to being naked. In fact, you loved it. Maybe it was some weird side effect of your quirk. But you loved being naked, being intimate, having sex. To you there was no better bliss. You craved it. Your quirk allowed you all the control you could ever want, but there was something so intoxicating about giving that control over completely to someone else. To be praised, to be worshipped, to be adored.

Well at least that was the way you were before. Before you weren’t allowed to touch anyone, or look at them, or… speak to them. What if you were different now? What if being controlled for so long, being forced to do things against your will… what if it changed you?

The thought made you sad. You briefly considered testing the waters with Dabi, but quickly shook that from your head. And it wasn’t even the fact he was a villain, as much as you hate to admit it, you’d slept with villains before. But could you even consider him a villain anymore. You could see what Todoroki had meant by saying he was neither hero nor villain.

No, the biggest reason you needed to keep your hands off Dabi is because he was nice enough to take you in. You don’t need to jeopardize your safety just to curb your cravings.

You quickly scrubbed your body clean and did your best to wash your hair, but it was a nightmare. Your hair was crazy long now and the knots and tangles were just impossible to get through. You wined in frustration as your fingers yet again got stuck.

“You know I could always shave your head, I’m sure you could pull it off.” You stuck your tongue out at him as he handed you a brush. “Better watch who you’re sticking that tongue out at.” He hesitated, “Arms up, time to get out.”

You felt like a child, but you obeyed without protest. Earning you a “good girl” that sent shivers down your spine. “Hm? Do you like it when I praise you?”

You shrugged and avoided eye contact and you could feel the growl rip through is chest. “What did I say about fucking shrugging?”

You bit your lip and pulled yourself closer to him so he couldn’t see your blushing face.

Like a sack of potatoes, you were tossed onto to the bed. He tossed you a pair of clean underwear and one of his shirts that would easily come down to your knees. Once you were dressed, he roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed and sat between your legs.

Your heart rate spiked, and you let out an excited gasp. His hand smoothed up your thigh, “Relax, I’m just putting a new bandage on your hip. Don’t get so excited.” He examined the shallow wound and you winced. It took everything in him not to place a kiss right over your wound. He’d made that mark on you. It would definitely scar and as twisted as it sounded… he liked that.

He started to tape the new bandage down. One of his hands rubbed the inside of your thigh, while the other made sure the bandage was secure. God he just wanted to bite into the soft flesh in front of him. He took a deep breath to steady himself, but he was absolutely not prepared for… was you winding your fingers through his white locks.

“Y/n… what?” Your fingers tightened causing him to groan and let lose. He started to kiss the meaty part of your thigh, biting ever few kisses drawing sweet sounds from your lips that made him wonder what your voice sounded like. He made his way up to your hip and kissed right above the bandage before licking up from you belly button and up your sternum, pushing your shirt… well his shirt up as he went. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand while he sucked on the other nipple. Your hips bucked up as his hand traveled south. As soon as his hand started to sneak past your underwear something in you snapped.

You couldn’t do this. Not now. Something wasn’t right. You felt trapped under his body weight, you couldn’t breathe. Too much, you weren’t ready.

You pushed at his hand and whined until finally he got the message. He stopped and looked at your confused eyes, “Shit… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I-I guess I misread that one.” He pulled your shirt back down and knelt in front on you on the bed. “I guess we should set some rules huh?”

Rules… rules… follow the rules.

You yanked your gaze down to stare at your hands that you had folded in your lap. Don’t look, don’t talk, don’t touch.

He reached for one of your hands, but you yanked it back shaking your head. “Hey look at me.” You continued to stare into your lap. He swore under his breath, “Please… look at me. I need to know what I did or said that freaked you out so bad. This is what I mean when I said we need rules-“ You flinched. “Oh is the word rules?”

You started to shrug before you remembered he wouldn’t like that. You lifted a shaky hand and picked up your journal and handed it to him open to the first page. You snuck a glance at his expression as he read over them. His face was expressionless as he read over your list of rules. “Hm… sounds kinky.”

He looked around for something to write with before coming to sit next to you, making sure to give you plenty of space. “Okay so how about instead we have laws?” You gave a quick shrug before nodding in agreement. He narrowed his eyes at you, “And law number one. No fucking shrugging.”

He handed the pen to you, “You’re turn. Write something down.” You gave him a questioning look, “Don’t worry about it, if I don’t like it, I’ll just draw a line through it. We’re brainstorming here.”

You wrote down “No drugs.” You heard him groan but he nodded anyways.

“Okay fine but then you have to make eye contact when talking to me. Doesn’t matter if it’s verbal or not.”

You went on like that for a while until you had a new set of “laws”

You had agreed to workouts in the pool to get your strength back up and he agreed to try and learn sign language with you.

The last law he added however was “I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.”

You rolled your eyes and went to push him away but he dodged you easily enough. He quickly stood up throwing you over his shoulder. “Alright enough of that. We have a long day ahead of us.”

You helped him make breakfast while he explained that this house was one of many that he owned under different aliases. This one was the most secluded and had the best security system.

You were still picking at your pancakes when he sat next to you at the kitchen island bringing a laptop with him. “I’m not helping you down from here until you eat every last bite. Law number 7- Eat three full meals a day. Need to put some meet on those bones.”

He pulled up a website that had a video queued up that said introduction to sign language. “Okay before we get going 1 for tea, 2 for coffee.”

Your eyes lit up as you held up 2 fingers and scurried to grab your journal. ‘Can you put some milk in it?’ It had been so long since you had coffee and the thought had you bouncing with excitement.

He read it and gave you a thumbs up. “Go ahead and start the video, I’m just over here.”

And that’s how you set into your routine. Every day you’d sleep in until you decided to get up. Eat a big breakfast. Work on sign language. Eat Lunch. Do some kind of workout in the pool. Relax and watch TV. Eat dinner. Take a bath. Go to bed.

You did this every day for the past two weeks and you could already tell a difference. You and Dabi had learned a few basics in sign. Only a few words, but it was a start. But Dabi’s favorite part was helping you walk.

Not that he didn’t like carrying you, but this was just as much fun. He’d hold you under the armpits from behind and he’d let you stand on his feet like a child. You still couldn’t walk on your own, but you were so close. Every day you felt stronger and you knew it was only a matter of time.

Today marks sixteen days that you had been here. You watched as Dabi cleaned up the rest of breakfast. You frowned as you thought about how much he did for you and how little you gave in return. You hadn’t noticed him walk over to you until his hand was lifting your chin to look at him. “Pool time?”

You nodded and signed back ~Pool time~. You reached your arms up to be picked up and he easily complied, no worse than a trained dog.

“You’ve gained weight. I can tell.”

You looked horrified as you slapped his shoulder. ~rude~

He chuckled, “Hey don’t get all huffy about it. It’s a good thing. You were way too skinny before. You looked like a strong breeze would blow you over and break all of your bones.” He stopped at the edge of the pool giving you a wicked look. “Now you’re starting to look healthy again. Healthy enough for me to do this and not feel bad about it.”

He tossed you into the pool, clothes and all. You sputtered to the surface but didn’t have to struggle long before he was behind you leading you to the shallow end. “You’re fine. Almost there, don’t be so dramatic.”

He led you to the wall you usually hold on to for your exercises and let you go. You growled as you flipped him off. Idiot doesn’t need to know sign language to understand that one.

You pulled your wet shirt off and tossed it over to one of the lounge chairs. Leaving you in just a bra and underwear, which is how you normally did these exercises. Dabi had requested the heroes send a bathing suit in the next care package, but it hadn’t arrived yet.

He reached around your middle section and pulled you away from the wall after you had done a couple sets of squats and leg kicks. “Okay now lets see how you do without the wall.” He turned you around to face him and slowly backed away only holding your elbows now. “Okay now lets take a lap around the shallow end shall we?”

At first your steps were more like tiny shuffles. “It’s gonna take us all damn day if you don’t start taking bigger steps. Come on you can do it. Pick those feet up!”

You gave him a harsh glare. He knew you couldn’t fight back right now because your hands were too busy gripping his arms for support.

You started taking larger steps and then larger ones and then eventually you had made it almost all the way around. Dabi stepped back and completely. “Okay just a few more steps. I think you can do them on you own. Come on baby girl. Just a few steps. You can do it.”

You nodded enthusiastically, of course you could. It was just a few steps. You could do this. You reached your hands out to the side and took your first step by yourself. Your eyes lit up at the feeling. Sure, it was only in the pool, but that was progress! “That’s it! Good girl, keep going!” You reached for him as you took another step, followed by another and another and then suddenly he was picking you up. “Hell yeah! Atta girl! Good job. I think that earned you some kind of reward.” He gave the top of your head a quick kiss as he started to carry you out of the pool.

Your head was singing with his praises, and your body was buzzing with adrenaline after crossing such a huge milestone. He carried you to his room where he pulled out another shirt for you to wear. “Okay so about that rewar-“

He was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. His eyes went dark. No one was supposed to know where this place was. He quickly picked you up and sprinted to the office. There was a secret false wall panel that led to a saferoom. He had told you of its existence in case he ever needed to hide you, but you hadn’t actually seen it. He was in the process of opening up the wall when a familiar flash of blonde hair showed on the security monitor. You pinched his shoulder and pointed.

He looked at what you were pointing at and groaned. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

***************************

tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs

[spicycreativity]

Post-PoF + Moceit + gnomes

Wordcount: 4k

Content Warnings: N/A

In which Patton solves the mystery of the gnome-distriburing secret admirer

Notes: Lmao I've given up on writing Patton's POV at close narrative distance. He's too ditzy I can't do it!!! So enjoy your slightly greater narrative distance 🤪 This fic did NOT want to be written but I persevered and it's actually pretty cute (if I may say so myself 😌). Also all the sides have ADHD but Patton has Super Hyperactive ADHD

In Which Patton Makes a Friend

At times like this, Patton just had to take a deep breath and remind himself that at least things weren't as bad as they used to be. Even as he white-knuckled the handle of his second-favorite mug, swallowing back the bitter aftertaste of chocolate and discomfort as he watched Logan sink out in a sort of tight-lipped rage, well. At least things weren't as bad as they used to be.

Roman and Virgil were already glaring daggers at Janus, who shifted so he could rest his jaw against his fingertips.

"Nice one," Virgil said finally.

"He didn't mean that," Patton said, looking first at Virgil and Roman, then at Janus.

"I did," said Janus, "he was being rude."

"Like you're never rude," Virgil shot back.

L'appel du vide was a siren song in Patton's ears. He tore his gaze away from Janus and stared instead at the coffee table, where Logan's empty mug now sat. "Maybe," he started weakly, "...they were both wrong?"

The silence that met him was chilly, unimpressed.

"Patton—" A rustle of fabric, then a gusty sigh. Roman's voice was gentler when it came again: "That can't be the answer to everything."

"I'll go," Janus said. Patton jerked his head up. Janus wore an expression of practiced nonchalance, but the set to his jaw told another story. "You can tell Logan that the big bad snake is gone." He transitioned seamlessly into a mocking pout, refusing to meet Patton's eyes. "Tell him I'm so sorry for hurting his feelings." And he was gone.

There was a split second of silence before Roman's frustration exploded outward at Patton. "How can you expect us to get along with him when he's— He's so—"

Patton didn't answer. What was he supposed to say? 'I'm sorry' would have been a lie. He wasn't sorry, not for befriending Janus, not for trying to help everyone get along.

"Let's just go," Virgil said.

And they both sank out, leaving Patton alone with the bitter taste in his mouth and four abandoned mugs where his friends had been.

He stared at them for a moment. Then he stood. The mugs were empty enough that he didn't have to worry about their contents splashing over the side if he was careful. He picked them up one by one: Virgil and Roman's vanilla hot chocolates, Logan's black coffee, Janus' improvised mocha (half hot chocolate, half coffee, and a little bit of Roman's vanilla syrup that he'd snuck in when Roman wasn't looking). Patton smiled at the memory on his way into the kitchen. It was pure chance that he'd caught Janus at all, having turned around to ask if he wanted mini marshmallows. Janus had winked and pressed a finger to his lips, and the resultant wave of electricity had made Patton's toes tingle.

But that was over now. Patton held the memory close as he poured out the mugs in the sink one by one. He rinsed them and then turned away, suddenly nauseated by the mingled smells of chocolate, coffee, and lemon dish soap. He didn't have to wash them, could just imagine them clean and be done with it. But there was virtue in working with your hands. He stood there, caught up in guilt, studying the far counter—

Hold on.

On the spice rack, nestled between the cinnamon and the cumin, was a little ceramic gnome figurine.

Forgetting his woes entirely, Patton stepped over and picked it up. The cool porcelain figure fit neatly in his palm and he held it for a moment, grounding himself with the sensation of rounded edges digging into his skin. Then he adjusted his grip on it to properly examine it, though there really wasn't much to examine. It was a gnome. Pale skin, rosy cheeks, red peaked cap, purple tunic. And of course, a bushy white beard. This gnome was wearing mismatched oven mitts and smiling down at a tray of cookies balanced on his palms.

Patton smiled as well, tucked it in his pocket, and turned around to wash the dishes.

-

In Which Patton Conducts Some Interviews

"No," said Logan, looking gratifyingly perplexed. These days, he was usually scowling so any expression, neutral or otherwise, made Patton's heart sing. "It's not mine." He handed the gnome back to Patton.

"I kinda figured," Patton said. Then he smiled. "Get it? Or should I say 'figurined'?"

Logan shut his eyes. "'Figurined' is not a word, Patton."

"I know, Logan." Patton softened at once, regret burning in his veins. "I was just making a joke. The gnome wasn't a joke, though."

"Oh," said Logan, and the clouds seemed to disperse from his face. "Where did you find it?"

"It was in the kitchen," said Patton. "On the spice rack."

"Do you know who was in the kitchen before you?"

"Everyone," said Patton. "Well, except…" He hesitated despite himself. "Except Remus."

"Then you're on the right track," Logan said. "I suggest you ask Roman next. He seems like the type to waste his time with—" Logan cut himself off and frowned, his eyes flicking first to the gnome still in Patton's hand, then to Patton's face. "I suggest you ask Roman."

As much as Patton ached to ask Logan what was wrong, why he had shut himself down like that, he knew now when a conversation was over. It wasn't his place to push. So he nodded. "Thanks, Logan."

"Of course." Logan shut his door and Patton turned to leave.

He paused and looked at the smiling little gnome. "I don't think you're a waste of time," he said. Then he set off to find Roman.

These days, Roman and Virgil were a two-for-one deal more often than not. Even if they weren't talking or sharing an activity, they could usually be found in the same space. Patton still had it in him to be happy about that, that they could hang out now without constant bickering.

See, he would tell himself, ignoring the circumstance of their newfound allyship, at least it's not as bad as it used to be.

Today, he found them occupying a new room, styled after the media rooms of the early internet age. They lounged on beanbag chairs with their legs stretched out toward each other at odd angles, like they wanted to close the gap but were too scared to take the plunge. It was an uncomfortably familiar sight. Sometimes sitting next to Janus on the couch felt like staring at him from the opposite side of the Grand Canyon, like it couldn't be that easy to just reach out and take his hand.

A hot wave of shame brought Patton back to reality. Fearing that Virgil and Roman might still be angry with him, he wielded the gnome as a sort of statement of intent, a tiny ceramic guardian. "Hey, kiddos!" he said in his best gnome voice.

"Hang on, Pops," Roman mumbled, not tearing his eyes away from the retro flat-screen TV. "Can't save in the middle of a battle."

"Pokeymans, huh?"

"Dude," said Virgil, "you can't just keep spamming Earthquake."

"Watch me," said Roman, pressing a button on his controller with a flourish.

"I'm using Charizard!"

Roman and Virgil continued to bicker against the clicking of their controllers and the noises from the TV. Patton pinned the corners of his cheeks up despite the way it ached, and searched for happiness. Instead he found the three-inch gap between Virgil's ankle and Roman's toes. Did it ache for them, too? Did they feel every centimeter of that distance like a knife in the chest?

Probably not. That was probably another one of those Patton Things, like dad jokes and cumin on everything.

"Okay, Dad-erpie," Roman said after a long moment. "What's up?"

Patton blinked, leaving Virgil to finally tear his eyes away from the TV and explain, "Like Caterpie. A Pokémon."

"Oh," said Patton, clawing his way back to his presence of mind. He held up the gnome again. "'Patton found me in the kitchen and now he's trying to figure out who I belong to. Do ya recognize me?'"

"Not mine," Virgil said.

"Not mine, either," Roman said, barely sparing it a glance. "I don't do gnomes. Usually. Maybe I should."

"Anyway," said Virgil with a pointed eyebrow raise at Patton. Whatever he meant to say with that look, he couldn't seem to hold it long enough to make Patton understand. He looked at the gnome again. "You sure it's not yours?"

"Maybe," Roman interrupted, "it was a gift from the subconscious. Thomas and I did have a dream about Santa Claus last night."

"I don't know if Santa counts as a gnome," Patton said thoughtfully. "Isn't he supposed to be an elf?"

"Elf, gnome." Roman shrugged and fiddled with the joystick on his controller. 

These days, Patton could take a hint. How many brush-offs had he missed before? How much resentment had built from his inability to leave when the time had come? He swallowed down the sadness and hiked up the corners of his cheeks, which had slipped since his last manic attempt at a smile. "Well, thanks, guys. I'm gonna go ask—" There was only one person left. "Someone else."

-

It wasn't Remus. Patton had already decided that, and he decided it again, harder, as he set off to look for Janus. Although, what Janus would want with a ceramic gnome, Patton had no idea. But there was no one left, because it simply wasn't Remus. So it had to be Janus.

By now, Patton knew Janus' favorite haunts. Or rather, lack thereof. Janus spent a lot of time in his room with the door closed, although recently he had slipped Patton a hint that he didn't mind visitors, so long as they knocked softly.

Patton didn't typically pay much attention to the amount of noise he made, but he tried not to use too much force when he tapped his knuckles against the bright and glossy golden stain of Janus' door.

After a moment, it swung open with an eerie creak and Janus' voice resonated from within: "Enter."

Patton inhaled and pushed the door open, but the scene that greeted him was perfectly innocuous: Janus had himself arranged artfully in an armchair, thick book open in his lap. "Whatcha reading?" Patton asked, squinting. For all the world, it looked as though Janus' book contained no words nor pictures to be seen.

"Nothing," said Janus hurriedly, shutting the book with a heavy thump. "What brings you to my hive of depravity?"

Patton felt the joke as it whizzed over his head, reflexes drawing the compliment out of his mouth: "Don't say that! Your room is lovely!"

Janus made an odd face, his lips twitching. Half a face, trying not to smile. "Thank you; you're a dear."

"I always thought of myself as more of a Papa Bear," Patton said.

"Good one," said Janus, and winked. "If you're going to stay, why don't you sit down?"

"Oh!" said Patton, remembering himself. It was easy to get lost in Janus, uncomfortably intoxicated by the newness and the unexpected loveliness of him. Patton pulled the gnome out of his pocket and held it up so Janus could see. "Yours?"

"Is this a joke?" Janus' irises found Patton's, and the befuddlement on his face was surprisingly polite, all things considered. "Yes, I've been looking everywhere for that."

"It's really not yours?"

"Look me in the eyes and ask me that again."

"Aw, Janus, you don't have to get offended. I think he's cute!"

"That's sort of my point." Janus straightened up in the chair. "What would I want with something so kitschy? Eh, no offense. Really."

"He's cute!" Patton insisted, pocketing the gnome once more. "He's really not yours? Nobody else claimed him."

"Well," said Janus, grinning asymmetrically, "you know what they say. Finders, keepers."

-

In Which Patton Loses at Chess, but Wins Anyway

Patton sighed and stretched, little stabs of pain jolting through his shoulder blades as a few joints cracked. No one seemed to notice, Virgil blasting music through his headphones, Roman having snuck away, and Janus and Logan talking animatedly about chess strategy. It had been worth it, Patton decided, having to sit through round after agonizing round of chess, if it meant that Logan and Janus were finally talking like… Well, like friends. Or at the very least like colleagues.

The chess board was the kind that doubled as a box for the pieces, with a joint and hidden hinges. Patton flipped it over in his lap and began to slide the plastic pieces off the edge of the coffee table. Then, subtle as a wink, something colorful caught his eye. He fished it out of the box, a funny suspicious feeling growing in his mind. And sure enough, sticking out of the pile of cream and black chess pieces, was a ceramic gnome. Patton looked around, but no one was looking at him. No one was laughing with sheepish pride at their little prank. No one had noticed Patton's silent confusion at all.

He studied the gnome. This one wore a green cap and a blue tunic and was perched on a small stump, one hand to his temple as though deep in thought.

"I found another one!" Patton announced, accidentally steamrollering right over Janus' pseudo-impassioned defense of the Elephant Gambit.

"Huh?" said Virgil, taking off his headphones.

"I said" —Janus waved a hand at nothing— "it all comes down to the element of surprise."

"The elephant of surprise," Patton muttered.

"No, not you." Virgil waved his own hand in dismissal and looked expectantly at Patton. "What's with the gnome?"

"I found it with the chess pieces," Patton said.

Logan leaned in, brow creasing behind his glasses. "How is that possible? If it had been there the whole time, we would have noticed it before."

"I dunno!" Patton said blithely.

"Finders keepers," Janus said, sing-song. "Any objections?" Silence. "Wonderful. Congratulations, Patton, on the new pet."

"He needs a name." Patton held up the gnome so everyone could see. "A smart name for a smart little guy."

"Gnome Chomsky," Logan and Janus said in unison.

"It was low-hanging fruit," Janus muttered, crossing his arms. "Logan, was that a pun?"

"As you said" —Logan adjusted his tie, not looking anyone in the face— "it was simply the most obvious choice."

"Chomsky?" Patton asked, forgoing the opportunity to tease Logan. He really did seem to hate it.

"Noam, N-O-A-M, Chomsky is a philosopher, among other things," Logan explained, finally looking up. He seemed poised to go on, even taking a sharp breath, but did not continue speaking.

"Gnome Chomsky it is!" Patton said. "He can live on my dresser with the first gnome."

"What'd you name that one?" Virgil asked.

Patton beamed. "Gnomer Simpson!"

-

Interlude: In Which Patton Gains a Small Army of Gnomes Over the Course of the Following Events:

1) During an otherwise ill-fated attempt at board game night

2) During movie night, wherein Remus was not invited and Janus did not stick around

3) During a painfully awkward group meeting with Thomas

4) During yet another forced hang-out session that turned into an argument 

5) During yet another forced hang-out session that turned into an argument

6) During yet another forced hang-out session that turned into an argument

7) During yet another forced hang-out session that turned into an argument

-

In Which Logan is a Rubber Duck

Something wasn't adding up. These days, Patton walked the halls with his pockets full of small, ceramic gnomes. They clicked against each other with the movements of his legs but never seemed to break or chip. Little talismans of cheer, they always smiled at him when he pulled them out to examine them. A reminder that someone was looking out for him.

But who?

It wasn't the sort of thing Patton could solve on his own. When he tried to think about it, his thoughts got tangled up like schoolyard jump ropes and he would inevitably trip and land in another topic entirely. Logan could probably figure it out. If he wasn't too busy.

So Patton went to Logan.

As it turned out, Logan was not too busy and in fact seemed quite content to sit back and listen to Patton explain his problem.

"Let's talk it through," he said once Patton was done. "If you have confidently ruled out the subconscious—"

"Which I have, because usually I can figure out why something happened or I do it on purpose." Logan pushed up his glasses and raised his eyebrows. "Sorry!" Patton covered his mouth briefly, a nonverbal apology for interrupting. "I just wanted to get the thought out."

Logan was silent for half a moment longer, giving no indication either way if he was upset. "If you feel you can confidently rule that out, then the next most plausible explanation is that someone has been hiding the gnome figurines, presumably for you to find."

Here, Logan paused, so Patton jumped in without remorse. "But I asked everyone and they all said no! Except, ah— Except, Remus. I didn't ask him." Dizzying dread rang through Patton's skull. "Oh. You don't think…?" He looked at Logan with wide, beseeching eyes.

"I see three explanations," Logan said, calm as ever. "One: You're mistaken and you have been subconsciously manifesting the gnome figurines. Two: Remus is responsible for his. Three: Someone else is responsible for this and lied to you when you asked."

Sparks of truth swarmed giddy in Patton's chest, fireflies of hope all blinking and spinning with the force of his breaths. "Lied?" he repeated, thinking of the way Janus had smiled when Patton had shown him the first gnome.

Logan nodded, studying Patton's face. "That makes you… happy?"

The absurdity of it all teased a laugh from Patton's chest. Yes, he was happy about the idea of being lied to, and he didn't quite know why. He was nearly giddy with it. Could it really be Janus? "I, uh." Patton shook his head, bringing himself back into reality before his train of thought could derail. "Thank you, Logan!" Remembering his newfound goal of being more attentive, kinder, he centered himself with a deep breath and looked Logan square in the face. "Really, thank you. I appreciate the help."

Logan adjusted his glasses, his hand lingering in front of his face for far longer than was necessary. "You're quite welcome, Patton. What are you going to do now?"

Patton shrugged. "Nothing, I guess."

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In Which Patton Does not do Nothing

Patton was not idle by nature. Quite the opposite, in fact, he found himself brimming with energy whenever he tried to relax. It was half the reason he even bothered imagining up meals to cook and movies to watch and games to play. He needed to do something, needed some outlet for all the boundless love that Thomas was capable of.

And as much as he told himself he was going to let Janus be (if it even was Janus distributing the gnomes), Patton found himself beholden to his impulses. To his credit, the meetup in the kitchen was wholly impromptu— he'd started baking and the smell had caused the others to come filing in one by one. All except for Remus, who would have slotted in nicely, if only Virgil were willing to stand closer to Janus.

Patton swallowed down a strange pang at the realization, almost having to remind himself that he didn't like Remus. Yet the kitchen felt strangely empty without one more body, the spaces between everyone gaping like insurmountable chasms.

As he turned to put the vanilla extract back, Patton's gaze found Janus. He was settled back against the wall by the doorway (always by a doorway, never in a corner) with one hand tucked casually away behind his back. It was too casual, and the more Patton studied the pose, the more it looked like a façade. He caught Janus' eye and looked, in silence, down to Janus' hidden hand, then back to his face.

Whatever he had meant to communicate in those milliseconds fell by the wayside as the oven timer beeped and Patton turned to get the oven mitts. His gallery of observers remained silent, content for the moment to watch him work.

All except Janus, who, when Patton turned around yet again for the cooling rack, was gone.

He came back after the cookies had been eaten, when the shattered remains of Patton's family had scattered back to their corners of the subconscious. He was left once more alone with nothing but a mess to clean up and the dangerous echo chamber of his own thoughts.

That is, until he looked up and found a yellow gloved hand presenting him a small, ceramic gnome.

"Is this yours?" Janus asked, putting on his beloved faux-innocent act. "I found it by the sink."

"You know, Janus," Patton began, affecting a false innocence of his own, "I was talking to Logan earlier, and he mentioned that someone could have been leaving those around the mindscape for me." He didn't like tiptoeing around the point like this, but it was worth it to see the way Janus' shoulders visibly relaxed beneath his capelet, the line of his jaw softening.

"You'd better take it, then. Wouldn't want to put off your secret admirer."

"Oh?" said Patton, startled out of playing coy. He stared at Janus, waiting for the insults and the backtracking.

"Well," said Janus, tensing up again, "one might assume, given the nature of the gifts, that the giver might harbor some admiration for you. Or maybe it was all a trick to see what you would notice. What slips past that steel trap of a mind you have."

"Don't be mean," said Patton, though he was less bothered than he might have been. He harbored no delusions that he was particularly keen of mind.

"My arm is getting tired," Janus said, brandishing the gnome.

Patton took it. "It's really too bad I don't know who's leaving these for me," he said, looking at Janus sideways. "I'd love to tell them how much it means to me and how much these little guys have cheered me up." Seeing Janus falter, he added, "What do you think they would say back?"

"How should I know?" Janus snapped, backing away by degrees. "Probably something unbearably soppy about how your smile lights up the room and they wish you would do it more so they started sneaking you these stupid little figurines in the hopes that bring half as much light into your life as they have into theirs." His eyes were fixed on the microwave, his human cheek a startling shade of scarlet. "Or something stupid like that."

Patton couldn't take it any more. He sprang forward and wrapped his arms around Janus, who stiffened until his muscles began to tremble. "Thank you, Janus," he whispered, despite the small voice in his head screaming that he should let go.

But Janus relaxed after a moment, and his arms crossed behind Patton's back. A loose embrace, but an embrace. His breath was unsteady against Patton's neck, nervous and rapid. 

Realizing the trap he had accidentally set, Patton said, "Um, I mean. If you ever find out who's been leaving the gnomes for me, please thank them for me. And tell them I want to talk to them."

Janus' arms tightened around Patton until he was hugging back with as much force as Patton was, until there was no suggestion of empty space between them, no vast, excruciating gap. "I will," he said. And he didn't let go.