#inexplicably had this stuck in my head while showering. why? who can truly say

[liesonthefloordramatically]

Yes, I know that love is like ghosts Oh, and what ain't living can never really die

[buckyownsmylife]

Catch me - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you’re Tom’s neighbor and he comes to your place after he’s locked out of his house on a rainy night. Requested by anon. + Dry Humping also requested by different anon ask

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cursing

A/N: okay, so here it is! My Tom Hardy requested smut! I’d also like to announce that I’ll be attempting to partake in this years’ Kinktober, and this is my first fic, fulfilling the prompts dry humping + face sitting. I’ll post the list of prompts I created for myself, along with the characters they are paired up with, a bit later. I also say “attempting” because I actually had a pretty bad accident last night and I’m still unable to do regular things like sitting or walking, so it’s been a struggle to get this done. If in anyday I am unable to write, I won’t force myself to do it. But that’s all, please enjoy this fic and let me know what you think of it! My requests are now empty, so feel free to send me any ideas you might have - I can either integrate them in one of my fics for the kinktober challenge or work on them in November.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I had watched with only partly concealed interest as the new neighbor slowly grew more comfortable at her place right next door to me. At first, it truly was just a slight curiosity founded in my observation of just how beautiful she was. But then, one day, right after she moved in, she caught me staring, and opened up the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. Just like that, I was stuck with a teenage-boy crush that left me blushing and stuttering every single time she so much as looked my way. 

If there was one thing people knew about me, was that I was not the blushing, stuttering type.

But things only got worse as time went on. She turned out to be just the perfect neighbor, usually coming around to offer me cookies or other baked goods precisely when I needed it the most.

“How do you always know when I’m feeling down or hungry, sweetheart?” I even ended up asking as I accepted yet another tray of brownies from her tiny hands. Her sweet little giggle went straight to my pants, instantly hardening my severely ignored member.

“It’s not that hard to figure out, Tom. Anytime you get back home this late, I can pretty much assume you barely had anything to eat all day, and it’s very clear you won’t have the energy to whip up anything right now.” My eyebrows raised up at her comment, but before I could satiate my curiosity, she quickly added, “And before you ask, no, I don’t spend my life looking out of the eyehole, you just have pretty loud steps when you’re tired, I can easily hear from my living room when you walk the hallway during the evening.”

Chuckling, I nodded, granting her that. I knew that she meant no harm, but I couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try to be more mindful next time.” Her eyes widened at my apology, and she immediately waved my words away, clearly mortified by the fact that I had interpreted it as a complaint.

“Gosh, Tom, no, that’s not what I… Please, don’t worry about it. I’m just a terrible insomniac, and I have good ears. It’s not like you’re waking me up every time you come home or anything. That would be a bummer, but also highly improbable, since I’m a very heavy sleeper…” I had come to understand that she was very capable of maintaining a conversation completely by herself, but everytime she took notice of it, she scrambled to get out of my sight. I figured someone in her life must have told her she talked too much, but personally, I’d do anything to witness her little monologues at least a bit more. She just seemed so interesting, and selfless despite the constant stream of consciousness that poured out of her lips whenever she was nervous.

I liked knowing I made her nervous. It made me feel less terrible about wanting to know more about her. Did that make me a creep? Hell, probably. But I couldn’t pretend like I gave a damn. I felt this inexplicable attraction to her, her personality and body, and that was it. I wanted to uncover what it was about her that had me so engrossed.

And one night, the opportunity presented itself to me. I had gone out of my car in a hurry because of the rain that had decided to pour all over the city and didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon, so I only noticed that I had locked my keys on the trunk of the car when I was already in front of my own apartment’s door, dripping all over the hallway. 

Fuck, that was just so typical of me. Why did I even bother to get my backpack out of the car, when I was already arriving home close to midnight and would be back at work early in the morning? It wasn’t like I would have the time to use my computer or anything. 

Sighing, I ran a wet hand over my face in an effort to figure out my next move. Obviously I would need to get someone to open my car for me, but in the middle of the night, it’d be hard to know who would come. It would definitely be easier to find someone in the morning, and I could very well get an Uber to some cheap motel and spend the night there. 

I was about to do just that when suddenly the door behind me opened, and a delicious smell of lasagna filled my nostrils, making me aware of just how hungry I was. “Tom?” Her sweet, sweet voice instantly calmed my tense muscles, making me open a smile at the sight of her despite the series of events I had just lived through. “Is something wrong?” 

A low chuckle escaped my lips at the awareness of just how pathetic my situation was, but there was no real humour in my tone. I looked down at my wet shoes before gathering the courage to look her in the eye again, giving her a small smile. “I locked myself out,” was all I said, and before I could even further explain my situation, her eyes had widened and she was reaching out to me, holding me by my wrist and pulling me inside of her place. 

“You poor thing. And right on the worst night for it to happen? Here, sit down while I go look for something you can change into. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, would we?” I briefly considered offering some kind of protest, explaining how I intended to go spend the night in a motel, but the truth was, I didn’t want to. It was late, I was tired and I was really fucking cold and just by being in the close proximity of this beautiful creature, I already felt a little bit better, so I’d just shut up and wait to see how this would play out for me. 

She came back with some sweatpants and a large cotton shirt, a bashful look on her face. “I bought these sweatpants from the male’s department because they’re usually comfier than the ones I find in the female department, they should fit you well.” I accepted the small bundle of fabric she offered, one eyebrow raised as I stared down at her in curiosity.

“What about the shirt?” I asked, and she blushed five different shades of pinks and reds, making her just that much cuter. It made me want to eat her whole, and the fact that she stood a few good feet under me didn’t help that at all. I knew I could break her so easily.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I felt like I could slap myself over how silly I was behaving over something so ordinary. Why would Tom care about me having an ex? It was only natural, it’s not like I was a blushing virgin nun who never did anything slightly out of the ordinary. Sex was ordinary. I’ve done it before. I’m sure Tom wouldn’t assume I hadn’t.

Oh, what am I saying? There’s no way he has even considered this subject when it comes to me. Why on Earth would he be thinking about my sexual past? What is going on with me? I feel like I’m going insane. 

I could feel just how warm my face had gotten, but I still had some amount of pride in me to salvage the situation, so I managed to roll my eyes as I pushed Tom further inside my house, in the direction of my bathroom.

“You’re a smart man, you can figure out where the shirt came from.” His chuckle shouldn’t be so sexy, but what about this man wasn’t?

“That’s not the answer I hoped for.” And with that mysterious sentence, he locked himself in my bathroom and left me alone with my thoughts. Granted, most of them revolved around him, so I couldn’t really say I was that alone, but the lack of someone to talk to only meant that my mind was swirling and a lot of different things I shouldn’t be thinking about managed to dominate my head. 

Just what did he mean by what he said? Could it be that he… No, of course not. There was no reason for him to be jealous of me. It’s not like he could possibly want me. Right?

I spent the entire time he was taking a shower stuck in the same pattern of thoughts, so much so that I didn’t even notice he had come back to the kitchen and was watching me from the doorway until he cleared his throat, making me jump out of my skin while carrying a plate full of very hot lasagna.

“Oh,” was all I said as I felt some of the sauce spill on my hand and my chest, some even managing to get on my face. But Tom’s rough ‘Shit’ brought a giggle to my lips, despite the discomfort of the slight burning sensation on my skin. 

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I thought you’d noticed me standing here.” While he assured me of his lack of intention to hurt me - as if I didn’t already know- he had grabbed the plate I was still holding onto and placed it on the counter, quickly procuring an already dirty rag and eagerly starting to clean me up, first my hand, and then…

Before he pressed the fabric to my chest, he looked up at me, his beautiful eyes catching mine and making me suck in a breath. “T-that’s alright,” I managed to get out, trying to look away from his hypnotizing gaze. “It doesn’t really hurt that bad. I think with a bit of cold water it might calm down.”

He nodded, agreeing with my words, but his gaze still searched mine for something I didn’t understand. “I sure hope so,” was all he said initially, his eyes finally dropping from mine to focus on the task at hand. “But I must say, I’m very disappointed.”

The comment puzzled me, rendering me useless for the time being. I could only tilt my head as I looked down at him, still crouching in front of me to clean my chest before he finally stood up on his full height and grabbed my face, gently engulfing it in one of those huge palms of his.

“I was really hoping that you were single, but I guess that would be expecting too much from the universe, considering how beautiful you are.” My eyes grew twice their normal size as I immediately tried to push him away and hide my face from his view, suddenly incredibly shy. But of course, he didn’t let me, instead pressing me against the counter and his very hard body, while he very carefully wiped away the few drops of sauce on my cheek.

For a few seconds, I let him work in silence, still trying to gather my nerves so I could say something. I should say something, shouldn’t I? I mean, here lies an opportunity that I never thought I’d experience, and here I was, being all silly about it. Finally, when he had at last finished slowly rubbing the rag against my skin, and seemed to be about to separate himself from me, I sprung into action, pulling him to me again by his forearms. 

“I-I am,” that’s all I managed to say, immediately cringing at my own lack of social skills. “Single, I mean.” Very smooth. Well done, Y/N. But despite my stupidity, it seemed that I was able to achieve my intention, since my sentence made Tom finally get rid of the rag and hold my face between both of his hands now, his thumbs softly running over my cheekbones.

“Oh, is that so?” He breathed out against my skin, our lips inches away from one another, and I shivered against my best wishes. That reaction caused a predatory smirk to appear on his face, and I knew then and there that I was in way over my head. “Good to know,” he whispered, and then his lips were on mine, forcing me to accept his tongue, eating me whole. 

He tasted like peppermint and coffee and I was already addicted to his taste, hoping to God I tasted as great to him as he did to me. At least, he didn’t complain. In fact, by the way he sucked on my tongue, forcing his deep inside my mouth, I’d go as far as to say that he did like what he tasted. 

Before long, he had pulled me up on the counter, his hands holding me by my waist as his lips ventured from my mouth to my jaw, until they found a spot on my neck that made me gasp and hold his shirt tightly, and then he was sucking, rolling his tongue on the spot where I could already feel a bruise forming, before his teeth carved their own impressions on my skin, imprinting himself on me.

My head swirled with the force of the emotions bursting through me. My legs wrapped themselves around his strong body, and I was happy that my hands knew what to do when my mind hadn’t still managed to catch up to this turn of events. When his tongue came out to lick right over my collarbones, the response gasp he elicited from me came out sounding much more like a sob than anything else.

“You’re so sensitive, princess,” He teased me, still otherwise occupied with marking my skin as his. “I’ve barely even started and here you are…” His hands ran through the expanse of my body, like he was showing his proof to an audience. “... a mess already.”

He wasn’t wrong. I was somehow dripping already. I could feel it, dripping from inside of me, slowly ruining the panties I was wearing. They were so not appropriate for the activities I was currently partaking in, but how the hell would I have known this was going to happen?

All I knew was that Tom had lit the fire inside of me, and now the flames were threatening to swallow us both.

Tom’s P.O.V.

She was just too cute, so out of breath and trembling with desire with the little I’d done to tease her. It just made me want to ruin her even more. My little neighbor, so perfect and sweet, so needy for me.

She didn’t even realize she had started to grind herself against me, in search of some sort of release. Well, I wasn’t about to cut her off. Unstead, I took advantage of my grip on her, pulling her body until I was the one keeping her up, trapped between my body and the counter.

“Rub your tiny wet cut against my jeans, love,” I ordered in a demanding whisper right on her ear, making her shiver. She obeyed without any sort of hesitation, looking up at me underneath her eyelashes with her eyes glazed over with lust. “That’s it…” Fuck if the pressure wasn’t exactly what I needed to help ease up some of the tension from the need I was feeling in my veins. “Rub yourself against my hard cock, don’t be shy.”

My words seemed to be gasoline for her, giving her the push she needed to grind herself even harder against my bulge. I decided to help her, pushing her more firmly against the counter and following the movements, rejoicing in the pleasure gasp that escaped her lips as the added pressure provided more friction to her clit.

“Fuck…” She whispered, and I think that in the entirety of the four months of conversations I’d entertained with her, that was the first time I’d heard her cuss. The four letter word I was so familiarized with had a new, unexpected effect on me, making the situation inside my pants so difficult I had to stop my movements and slow hers down by her hips, so I wouldn’t just jizz on my pants like a fucking teenager. 

But Y/N didn’t stop, despite accepting my silent request to decrease the fervor of our activities. When I finally managed to get control over myself again, I realized why. She had gripped the counter behind her and was using it to better control her movements, and it was clear by the way her head hung back and her mouth fell open that she was about to cum just like that.

“Shit,” I cussed just as the realization hit, and it felt like all of the control I’d managed to build in the last few seconds I closed my eyes had suddenly escaped through the window. My cock was painfully hard again, and all I could think of was that I needed to get out of these fucking jeans.

Who could blame me, though? When she looked like that, creaming her panties with her clothes still on? Shit, I couldn’t wait to get her naked and underneath me. I needed to feel her from the inside, explore her wetness with my hard cock.

But first, I was desperate to get a taste of her. So as soon as her breathing came back to a somewhat regular pattern, I was careful to put her on the ground again, making sure she was able to stand on her own legs, before dropping to my knees in front of her.

“What are you… Oh.” I couldn’t help but to chuckle at the innocence of her mind that stopped her from immediately understanding what I intended to do, but then I was pushing her skirt up and away from my view and her panties were in front of me and they were drenched, absolutely ruined by the sticky liquid that made my mouth water. 

“Fuck, princess…” I moaned as I carefully peeled the cotton fabric down her legs, keeping it pooled around her ankles as I pushed her legs open as far as they could go. She was dripping, a single line of her wetness connecting both of her thighs, making me groan at the sight. “You might just kill me…” I commented before reaching up to pull her to me, effectively burying my face on her.

“T-Tom!” The sound of my name escaping her lips with that reverent tone left me even hungrier for her, as did her exquisite taste. It painted my tongue with its sweetness, embedding itself in my cells, making sure I’d never be able to forget it. I already knew I’d be hungry for her again the second I pulled away from her cunt.

Nonetheless, I forced myself to stop for a moment to gather my senses, as her taste made it harder and harder to control my need to relieve my aching member. I needed to be inside of her, and quickly. 

Abruptly rising up to my full height, I picked her up by the back of her thighs so she’d wrap her legs around me and took us to where I’d assumed her bedroom would be, considering I was familiarized with the general layout of the apartments. The second I laid her on the bed, my hands were struggling with my own belt, as I watched her pull her dress over her head, now completely bare before me.

“You’re so fucking hot.” When my pants dropped to the floor and my cock slapped my lower stomach, I pounced on her immediately, crawling on the space between her legs and pulled her by the back of her neck to connect our lips once more. “Do you want to be railed tonight, pretty neighbor?”

She fucking whimpered in response, repetitions of “yes” and “please” escaping her lips as she tried to pull me closer to her by the legs she embraced me with. Not having it in me to stop this moment any longer, I gripped my member with one of my hands while I held her hips down with the other, briefly rubbing the blunt head of my cock over her sensitive clit before pushing myself completely inside of her.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, blindsided by the tightness, wetness and warmness that now surrounded me. “I knew your cunt would be fucking delicious.” I watched her as I pulled out until just my tip was inside of her, only to push it back in as forcefully as I could.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hands flew up to hold my shoulders, almost as if she wanted to push me away or tell me to take it easy, but as her legs continued to pull me even deeper inside, I knew what she really needed was to be properly fucked.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Tom was not exaggerating; he really did pound me against my mattress, immediately setting up the most brutal of paces. It hurt, especially with how much he was stretching me, but it felt too fucking good to complain about it.

The only thing I could do was to relax and accept this invasion, this possession of my body by my next-door neighbor. I knew I must have been quite a vision, my arms thrown up in search of something to hold on to, spit escaping the corner of my lips by the intensity of the thrusts, my breasts shaking as he pulled me back to meet his thrusts by my hips. I hoped I’d have some bruises on the shape of his fingertips to remember this night.

Not like I would ever be able to forget, anyway. Only a lunatic would expel the visions of Tom looking like this while fucking them, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the sweat gathering over his eyebrows. I wanted to kiss it away. I wanted to taste its saltiness. 

Just as my head began to twirl in time with the growth of arousal in my lower belly, Tom’s eyes travelled upwards from the point where his cock was buried inside of me to find my breasts, one of his hands immediately following suit. When his pull on my nipple was accompanied by the feeling of his warm mouth engulfing the other one, I screamed as I came all around him, my head thrown back and eyes closed as I relished in the feeling of being so perfectly filled, so perfectly touched.

“Fuckin’ tight.” Tom fucked me through my orgasm, but at the sight of my eyes blinking back open, he pulled out, easily manhandling me into turning around and rising on all fours. “This fucking ass… Do you have any idea how long I dreamt about fucking you like this?”

I didn’t know how, but his words and the way his huge hands sprawled over the cheeks of my butt reignited the flames that had just been fed, and I found myself pushing back against him, offering myself up to him. Anything to get his cock inside of me again.

“Please…” I all but begged, and I heard his breath hitching behind me. “Just… please keep fucking me.” Perhaps that was all that he needed, because in a second his cock was tearing me open again, so fucking deep that I could feel it in my stomach. 

“Fuck… If I had known how it would look to have my little perfect neighbor begging for my cock, I would have fucked you ages ago.” Every single thing that came out of that man’s mouth was like sin. He wrapped my hair around his fist, suddenly using it to pull me back to him as he raised one of his legs to the mattress, the new angle making each of his thrusts hit that spot inside of me that made everything just a little more satisfying. 

I could feel tears running down my cheeks, falling on my spread out hands as I struggled to keep breathing through his assault on my senses. “Are you gonna cum again, love?” I could hear him asking, and I wanted to answer, I really did, but every time I opened my mouth, only sobs came out. “Are you? Here, let me help you out.”

The feeling of his rough fingers softly caressing my clit was such a stark contrast to the way he was still brutally pounding into me that instead of trying to push him away from my much too sensitive lower region, I opened my eyes in surprise as another orgasm took over me, somehow even stronger than the previous ones.

“Yeah, that’s it… Fuck. Come for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel your cunt milking my fucking cock.” His words did nothing to help ease my arousal, and just when my arms started to give out, I felt him spilling inside of me. “FUCK!” He shouted, following my body’s motions until he was covering me with his own torso, still very much inside of me.

His thrusts finally coming to a stop after he had slowly fucked his cum inside of me, I felt his thumbs caressing my hips as I remained face planted on my mattress. “Well, this isn’t how I expected this night to go, but I can’t say I’m not satisfied.”

A snort was all I could give him as he finally pulled out and allowed his body to fall by my side, giving me a quick kiss on the shoulder that was closer to him. “You ok?” He asked, and I snorted again.

“More than okay. You still haven’t eaten though.” It was the truth. After all of this… incredible distraction from my cooking plans, he still hadn’t gotten around to eat dinner. I heard him take a deep breath next to me as he pondered his answer. 

“Really? ‘Cause I remember eating some very delicious pussy a few minutes ago.” It took me a few minutes to process what he had said, but when I did, I turned around to playfully hit his chest while feeling my face warm up from the reality of what we had just done.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re hot.” And when he put it in such simple terms, as he pulled me in his arms so that I could cuddle his chest, how could I feel embarrassed?

[florbelles]

lyra and john for the ship ask?

thank you lovely! 💕

GENERAL

rate the ship awful | ew | no pics pls | i’m not comfortable | alright | i like it! | got pics? | let’s do it! | why is this not getting more attention?! | the otp to rule all other otps

how long will they last? as long as some part of either of them exists tbh

how quickly did/will they fall in love? when i say they have no chill and lyra moved into the ranch after living in hope county for two weeks i mean it

how was their first kiss? john’s nose bled, next question

WEDDING

who proposed? technically john. sort of. ( i’m sorry for this long answer but i haven’t really discussed it so ) lyra had already joined the project, lived with john, begun her training with jacob, and had taken up the rudimentary form of what would eventually become her role as the judge. it had only been a few months, but joseph believed he recognized her from his visions and wanted to bring her into the family Officially; at this point john and lyra were already 100% in it and he was straight up like if she’s going to become a seed it’s going to be through me, because, well, john. lyra just looked at him when he came to her with it and said “what of it? are you not my husband? am i not your wife?” and that was that; lyra doesn’t live by half-measures, she was married in every way that mattered to her the second she stepped across that threshold with her bags. ( well. shaggy carried the bags. but you get it. )

who is the best man/men? no one, but if you listened carefully you could hear shaggy sobbing outside the church. is he happy for them or crushed by the revelation he’s really stuck with both of them forever now? who can say!

who is the bride’s maid(s)? no one; faith was Not pleased when she heard lyra had gone and married her brother without telling her ( but it would have been her, if they’d had attendees. )

who did the most planning? there wasn’t much, but john ( and joseph, i suppose, since he officiated. )

who stressed the most? the only one who had any amount of stress was john.

how fancy was the ceremony? back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 ( i’ve been informed inflation adjustment was necessary by virtue of lyra’s aura ) | 4 | normal church wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

who was specifically not invited to the wedding? everyone, with the exception of joseph by necessity; while the significance of the two most extra drama fiends to ever step into the valley having the most understated ceremony in existence could be elaborated on with sentimentality — they can come as they are with each other, etc etc — it was partly a tactical move; lyra couldn’t fairly well maintain her cover with the locals if she publicly married john seed in an elaborate ceremony. they intend to have one officially in the new eden with all of the family and faithful; they never get that chance.

SEX

who is on top? either/or tbh

who is the one to instigate things? either/or

how healthy is their sex life? barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | they are humping each other on the couch right now

how kinky are they? straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head ( no horse head necessary in the sex dungeon. just kidding. they don’t have a sex dungeon they just hook up in the normal torture one )

how long do they normally last? before everything went to hell, as long as they want ( rip, get the ice packs ); after the reaping begins, as long as they have

do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? okay listen i’m going to be brutally honest, they fuck a lot, they’re not counting but they’re not complaining

how rough are they in bed? softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | the bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make dwayne johnson blush. also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it. ( their walls are premium )

how much cuddling/snuggling do they do? no touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | a little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | they snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory. ( lyra is actually the biggest offender but she blames his needy ass. also if she knows you know this she’ll commit homicide. this is not hyperbole )

CHILDREN

how many children will they have naturally? none. ( in aus they do; one in the cult wins verse because lyra’s iud expired but she was not willing to sacrifice her sex life, and fairbrookseed have three; the twins via wes and a younger son via john. )

how many children will they adopt? three at the beginning of the reaping — boomer, peaches & cheeseburger. ( john unwilling. )

who gets stuck with the most diapers? not applicable, but hypothetically shaggy

who is the stricter parent? it would have been john

who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? it would have been john; lyra would have taught them the dangerous stunts they’re doing after school

who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? it would have been shaggy

who is the more loved parent? the furbabies love lyra more. obviously.

who is more likely to attend the pta meetings? it wOULD HAVE BEEN JOHN

who cried the most at graduation? same answer; lyra would have waited until they got home and then cried in the shower for an hour

who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? either/both, but in practice probably john

COOKING

who does the most cooking? neither/shaggy; lyra if you count her Attempts when she staggers in at 3am after hunting sinners or gathering intel at the spread eagle

who is the most picky in their food choice? john; lyra behaves like she is but in fact thinks it will be a shame when casey’s non-testicle related recipes are lost when he burns in the collapse

who does the grocery shopping? neither; lyra’s the most likely to bring things back from town, but it’s usually liquor she swiped from the bar ( so that mary may can’t sell it, of course! )

how often do they bake desserts? they don’t bake

are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? whatever shaggy puts in front of them; it’s probably meat and it’s probably unfortunate

who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? john, but he’s only responsible for the theatrics; everything was 100% still prepared by the flock

who is more likely to suggest going out? for the truly exceptional hope county cuisine, served in businesses they definitely didn’t try to get shut down, in which they are most definitely both still welcome and could appear together without blowing her cover and/or getting shot on sight? neither. in a “let’s physically go out by the fire pit” sense, lyra.

who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? honestly, both of them, because in the event they were cooking one of them probably decided to be distracting~ while they waited~ and oh no they forgot about it oh no everything’s on fire oh no shaggy put it out oh no shaggy how could you let this happen

CHORES

who cleans the room? shaggy

who is really against chores? both to an extent, but especially lyra

who cleans up after the pets? neither, but since john philosophically opposes their presence in the first place and tries to ship them off to jacob every tuesday, it sure as hell ain’t him

who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? if, inexplicably, they’re sweeping, it’s lyra, both proverbially and literally

who stresses the most when guests are coming over? if the guest is joseph ( or even jacob ), JOHN. otherwise they’re unconcerned.

who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? a dollar? one (1) dollar? john keeps literal stacks of thousands of dollars in cash just sitting around. the answer is hopefully not the resistance.

MISC

who takes the longer showers/baths? john ( but lyra usually joins. )

who takes the dog out for a walk? shaggy, boomer has almost taken his leg off on fifty separate occasions. ( it’s lyra. )

how often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? canonically they never have the opportunity, really, but lyra probably would have decorated for the winter holidays. some mistletoe on the antlers, a garland on that sinner corpse hanging out by the porch. beautiful.

what are their goals for the relationship? to make it to new eden, tbh. they found unconditional love in each other when that was an impossibility for them for most of their lives; they just want to keep what they have and prove themselves worthy.

who is most likely to sleep till noon? JOHN. lyra’s up before dawn every day ( and drags him out of bed to watch the sunrise with her; he’s very excited for the apocalypse. )

who plays the most pranks? pranks? lyra, but not the funny sort, it’s like...whoops, sorry, i forgot to mention i was roasting sinners out back, the grounds will smell like burning flesh for a bit! did you bring home any flayed skin today? <3 ( i jest, it’s more to the effect of “the sinners were terribly dull today so to amuse myself i told them i heard rumors about the judge and the reason they didn’t know you had a wife is because you kept her locked in a sex dungeon. also, adelaide wants you to spank her. how went the confessions?” )

[jadewing-realms]

“But I will never forget!”

Katsuki hates being cooped up.

Ochako’s known this for… well, since they’re second year at U.A. at least.

School was one thing. U.A. is pretty big and they were never wanting for something to do, between everyday classwork to all the crazy things that happened during their time there. There wasn’t a whole lot of just… sitting. Still. Tense and waiting. On top of that, given his not-so-subtle obsession with doing everything at three-hundred-and-five percent, he always had something to charge headlong into. Homework, training, internship… He always had something keeping him going, to the point it seemed like he’d never stop.

At twenty-six, he’s still the same. If there’s something to be done, odds are he’s one of the first out there doing it. Time has increased his social acuteness, eased his temper somewhat, but it can never tame his ambition. His concentrated will and overwhelming tenacity is what will carry him straight to the top, he says and she agrees.

But they’re coming into their third day, now. Three days limited almost exclusively to her apartment, leaving only for the occasional meal run but mostly just stuck staring at the same four walls, the same locked balcony doors, the same TV set to the same program. Because even if they can’t be out there, can’t even reach their agencies at this point, they can’t bring themselves to stop watching those who can. At the very least, to support them and live vicariously through their efforts.

Even that’s not enough, though. Not surprisingly. For the last hour, Katsuki’s taken to pacing like a caged tiger, from the apartment door to the balcony and then back again. Back and forth, back and forth.

For a while, Ochako just ignored him every time he passed in front of the television, disrupting her line of sight, but at this point, she’s settled in to watch him prowl, since his constant motion is making her antsy too. Back and forth, back and forth. Beyond his heavy steps, the TV yet spiels forth its newscasts, a constant update on the storm and its passing, and the clock ticks monotonously above the fridge. Beyond the balcony doors, the wind rails through the narrow streets, howling like some possessed thing while rain pelts down like a shower of needles as it flees before each gale. Typhoon Feng rages outside from a dismal grey sky over a dismal grey landscape, powered by the same inexplicable force that drives each of Katsuki’s subsequent footsteps.

She wants to say something… feels the need to, like she should be able to calm him somehow. But she can’t help but wonder if she should. After all, she feels just as frustrated at their immobility as he is, just without the rampaging part. She keeps it to herself and tries to focus on what she can do—like keep herself informed and up-to-date, like sending her best thoughts and prayers to those she knows are out there right now doing what they can to keep people safe.

Tsu is out there somewhere. She, Kirishima, and Tokoyami have all appeared on the broadcasts on multiple occasions over the last three days, all working on-call for rescue efforts, stationed across the city for whenever the next emergency call comes in reporting a collapsed building, gas explosion, crashed boat or flooded station. Ochako’s fairly sure that at some point, she saw Ojirou and Jirou contributing as well.

And of course, there’s Deku.

Ochako can’t help but wonder if that’s half the reason why Katsuki’s radiating with such hostility and keeps glaring out at the storm like he could challenge it to a one-on-one battle to the death right here, right now.

That makes her eyebrows pinch and she finally resolves to actually say something.

“Hey,” she says, only to realize she has no plan regarding where to take that. Wait, maybe she should’ve thought of something first and then spoken up.

He doesn’t pause, only glances at her sidelong as he passes. A grunt of acknowledgment is all she gets.

She pouts a little bit, but pats the loveseat next to her anyway in invitation. “Come sit down. You’re wearing a rut in the floor.”

He snorts. The comparison to a wild animal becomes more apparent. “I can’t f***ing sit. I’ll go nuts.”

“Aren’t you already?” She raises an eyebrow, eying how his steps have yet to falter and his gaze has yet to truly turn from the weather outside.

He just clicks his tongue once and leaves it at that.

Heaving a sigh, Ochako figures she won’t push the issue. She doesn’t have any legitimate reason to do so anyway. Sitting won’t help him any more than the pacing he’s doing now. Though she had hoped maybe sitting next to her might do something to quiet his nerves… not to mention keep her warm, but that’s probably arrogant of her to assume.

They’ve never functioned on a ‘who can tell who what to do’ basis. They’re themselves, and they’re themselves together. Which means she’ll just have to let him march out his aggravation until he’s good and ready to sit still again.

Despite a creeping urge to stand right up and stop his pacing with a relentless hug, she curls her feet up off the cold floor and tucks them under her, sinking as much as she can into the crevices of the loveseat. She reaches over the armrest and drags up the knitted shrug she keeps in a pile there just for days of nasty weather like this. She throws it over herself and curls up as much as she can so she can fit under as many square inches as possible.

“…rising Hero, Deku…” comes through from the television speakers. Katsuki’s footfalls falter.

Before he can snap at her to turn it up, she’s already reaching for the remote.

“…pulled one-hundred and thirty-two crewmen from the wreckage, emptying the vessel single-handedly,” the woman on the screen spoke with carefully practiced pitch, staring intently into the camera and out of the screen. “Reports say only thirteen were injured from the impact, and all were safely recovered and transported to the nearest appropriate care facilities. Our eye on site was able to catch a few words with Japan’s rising young star after the feat.”

The clip cuts, and Katsuki comes to an abrupt halt right in front of the screen. Ochako has to lean to one side just to see what’s happening. There’s Deku, standing under an awning, drenched as a wet cat but smiling his trademark smile anyways. His big eyes, however, squint against the wind that billows sheets of water across the city backdrop. He has to shout to be heard over the noise.

“We just need everybody to remain calm.” He nods with the reporter, who’s microphone bobs. “Follow directions. If the authorities are encouraging evacuation in your district, please—do it, for your own safety. Otherwise, stay safe, stay smart. It’s tough but avoid going outdoors if you can; there’s a lot of debris flying around, lots of downed wires. We’re out here and we’re watching out for everyone we can, but we need you to be careful too. And uh… don’t worry. We’re here, we’re going to take care of everybody.”

As he waves into the camera, smile unfazed by the storm raging behind him, the newscaster’s voice talks over the tail end of the clip. “A practical warning and heartwarming reassurance from the up and coming Number 11 Hero. We should be grateful for him and for the rest of his contemporaries who are out there right now, battling this storm in a fight to keep the public safe from one of the greatest Villains we’ll ever face: Mother Nature. We’re live with updates; we’ll be right back.”

The screen goes dark, and Ochako lowers the remote slowly. Leaving the ads to play would just be needless noise, and by the shaking of his clenched fists, she figures her boyfriend could use a bit of silence right now.

Of course, it’s not entirely silent. The wind and rain outside are still making themselves heard, and show no signs of stopping.

Katsuki doesn’t start pacing again.

Somehow, his stillness concerns her more than the repetitive motion did.

Should she say something? She still has that looming feeling like she should, but still, there are no words on her tongue. Nothing she can really say to make things better for either of them right now. They might be Heroes, but this is a fight they aren’t equipped to handle, not like others are. So they must wait. Their number will come up after the storm is passed and it’s on to rescue efforts and clean-up.

Not that that’s any comfort to him.

Just as she opens her mouth to suggest something, anything—maybe going to dinner just down the block, if that little ramen shop is still open?—Katsuki speaks.

“We should be out there,” he seethes, the mournful wind a soundtrack to his turmoil. Ochako’s eyes widen; she hears a plethora of emotions all fighting for control of his voice, and all of them tell her he’s way past aggravation at this point. He’s pissed. He shoots her front door a pointed look and she knows exactly what he’s thinking without him saying another syllable.

“We can’t,” she blurts.

“Why not!?”

“You know why!” She pulls the shrug tighter around herself, trying to keep herself together. It won’t do for both of them to go stir-crazy; somebody needs to keep a level head. “We’ve talked about this. As soon as the worst is over, those of us who aren’t out there now will definitely be called out then.”

“That’s not enough. I can’t just sit here while that f***ing nerd—”

She narrows her eyes. “Deku.”

“WHATEVER,” Katsuki roars, slicing a hand through the hair between them like he can cut the conversation short just like that, and yet he keeps speaking, snarling, “he’s out there hogging the press and milking this whole thing for everything it’s worth while I what? Sit here, useless, stuck on my a** just because some big shot said my Quirk’s not good enough!?”

Her glower intensifies and she finds her patience wearing thin with every word. He’s angry and he’s exaggerating, but he has to know it’s not fair to drag their mutual friend like that, not when he’s doing what they can’t right now.

“You know none of that is true!”

Katsuki’s lip curls, he turns on his heel and marches toward the door, radiating intent like the roll of thunder. Ochako jumps to her feet, skin prickling with the sudden reintroduction to the cold and a burst of adrenaline, and she’s ready to take a flying leap across the kitchen to stop him, but she doesn’t need to. He stops himself, right in front of the door, and stands rigid before it, on the cusp of decision.

“You need to calm down. You and I both know there’s a legitimate reason why neither of us is out there right now; I can’t float anything in these winds and heavy rain cripples you,” she says evenly, repeating what both of them already know.

He snaps over his shoulder. “I’M NOT F***ING CRIPPLED!”

“THE RAIN DILUTES YOUR SWEAT, KATSUKI!”

She’s had enough, she matches his volume, sees him turn away and hunch his shoulders.

Then the lights go out.

In her heightened emotional state, Ochako can’t help the shriek that escapes her as they’re suddenly plunged into thick darkness, before she claps her mouth shut. The balcony is now the brightest and the only source of light, and it’s an underwhelming one, casting blotches of dim grey across only the barest edges of furniture, appliances, wall corners. It glints on the gelled tips of Katsuki’s hair. He’s stock still, face hidden in the shadows between himself and the door.

Slowly, Ochako takes a deep, soothing breath, which she sorely needs. That almost got out of hand… She let herself get caught up, fed up with his angst… or whatever it is. He shouldn’t even be thinking about his rivalry with Deku right now, in her humble opinion, not when people are in peril and Deku’s just one of many who are trying to help out, just like any Hero worth their salt wants to, just like she knows Katsuki wants to underneath all the pettiness and insecurity… but still. Her meeting him on his volatile level doesn’t help either of them.

Now that the blackout’s made her take a step back, she regathers her thoughts and then takes a step forward.

It’s time for her to go with her first instinct. She tosses the blanket back onto the loveseat, pads up right behind him and slips her arms around his waist to bury her face against his back. She presses as close as she can, breathes him in, and notes that he’s not shaking anymore. That’s good.

“Hey,” she says again. Calm. Comforting. “Do you remember that joint rescue mission back in third year? With the landslide?”

He doesn’t answer right away. She’s fairly certain he does indeed remember, but then again, he’s always had a penchant for forgetting details he deems unimportant. If this incident is one of them, she’ll have to jog his memory.

“You barfed on a paramedic after lifting a boulder off a the highway,” he says quietly.

A giggle escapes her, to her relief. She can’t even be insulted that this is what stands out in his memory. It was a pretty epic hurl, after all, and at the very least, by the lower pitch of his words, the blackout’s sapped some of his fight out as well. They might be on mostly even ground now.

“Yeah, that one.” She presses her cheek against him, feeling the plains of his back through his t-shirt. “Remember when you and Deku tried to race to the that car that was half buried on top of that next ledge up?”

He sniffs. “We almost caused another collapse.”

“You tripped first,” she says cheekily.

“Yeah, well, Deku slid first, so I count that as a victory.”

Her giggles amplify. “He slid so hard! And so far!”

He chuckles a little bit himself, and her heart leaps. Success! “F***ing nerd shoulda just let himself go. Trying to stop just made it worse.”

When he starts to move, she loosens her grip but doesn’t let go and as he turns around, she blurts a sudden recollection. “You remember when he hit Mineta from Class B*?”

“Oh my g**, I forgot that…”

Ochako can almost picture the moment vividly on the screen of her mind and it loosens her throat so more laughter can erupt out of her. She hides her face against his chest. “So did I, I don’t know why. Mineta’s shriek—”

“Pff, coulda woke the dead.”

At this point, she’s all but forgotten the raging storm outside and the darkness around them doesn’t seem so dark now that her eyes are adjusting. She can see him clearly now. When she glances up at him, he’s smirking, all teeth and growing amusement at her giggle fit. She beams, rather pleased with herself at the results of her impromptu intervention. She nods and can almost hear their batchmate’s squeal all over again. Back then, when all was said and done, the folks in the car were rescued unharmed, nobody had been hurt worse than cuts and bruises, and both Deku and Mineta had sported a full second skin of pure mountain mud. All of them had gotten a kick out of it, even Deku. It had brought her great joy then and it does so now too. Just the same as the fondest part of this particular memory for her.

“Oh, but! But, I will never forget: that was the first time any of us saw you laugh that hard.” She smiles up at him, satisfied with the delivery her point at last.

For a beat, the howl of the wind reasserts itself between them, sending a light chill up and down her spine. Ochako tightens her hold on him and his natural heat, arms looped around his waist, four fingers absently stroking his back as he rubs his unfairly warm hands up and down her arms, left bare by her t-shirt and now abandoned by the shrug she so hastily discarded. Surely he can feel her goosebumps.

But what matters more to her is the relaxed expression on his face. The pinch in his brow, the rage in his eyes is all but gone, replaced by… well, by something she can’t quite place. It’s like a look that’s trying to convey to her multiple things at once that he doesn’t know how to vocalize with words. Somehow, he manages to be both gentle and intense in his quietness and she feels her cheeks heat a bit under his wine-red gaze. She looks away.

“…We all know how hard you work…” Now she’s quiet, subdued a bit but determined to see her little pep talk through to the end, even if technically she might stop now and call it square. He needs to be reminded, though. He has to know. “Nobody thinks any less of you just because you have… limits, you know? Everybody does. We all specialize in certain areas of this job… and that’s okay. So…”

She purses her lips, squares herself up and lifts her chin as high as she can, even if it’s no match for his towering height over her. But she looks him square in the eye like she is.

“So when this whole storm blows over and it’s time for us to go out there, you’d better do your best and be satisfied with that! Don’t—”

He silences her by closing his lips over hers. She sputters against the kiss with the words caught in her throat, but quite rapidly, they die away in favor of sharing breath with this crass, stubborn, oh-so-unperfect storm of a man.

And though the wind howls, the room doesn’t feel so cold anymore.

*In this AU, Mineta has been demoted to Class B.