#too much food and not enough time to eat it

[nouearth]

— “The Boy Next Door.”

pairing. alan ritchson x male reader headcanon.

summary. with his profile brewing in hollywood, projects are consistently lining up for alan, and the last thing he needs is a new roommate getting in the way of his stress. unless, reader finds himself becoming alan's personal stress-ball?

content warning. camboy!au, camboy!reader, top!alan, bottom!reader, food!play (cucumber as dildo), muscle worship, size difference, spitting, oral (r!giving on dildo), dirty talk, verbal, masturbation, alan and reader are roommates.

moving in.

roommate!alan who surprises you with his massive stature when he greets you on move-in day.

it was jaw-dropping. well, almost so. you were luckily aware enough to catch the slack of your jaw from relaxing any further. any second longer, and you would've been hypnotized into submission by the man's brawn physicality; massive chest, bulging arms, and thick fingers—traits you would find yourself drooling about.

"hey, uh... (m/n), right? is that how you say your last name?" "spot on! and... alan. man, your name already sounds like a celebrity, i'm jealous." "haha, hopefully the casting directors feel the same way."

roommate!alan who helps you with your luggages without a single request from your end.

aside from being eye-candy, alan utilized his muscles for the greater good and brought your belongings from the trunk of your car, to the front of your door in a matter of minutes. even when you pleaded him not to, he went on ahead while urging you to take a rest after the long drive across the city.

you complained, though half-heartedly because your ass was sore from driving all day. his massive arms were a distraction as the veins surged through every muscle of fiber like lightning.

"you really didn't need to do all of that—" "hey, you're saving me from shelling out an extra thousand by being my roommate. plus, you seem... normal? that's the least i could do." "normal? pft, i don't know about that. but i will say, your kind gestures have put you on my 'no-kill' list." "let's backpedal a bit. is it too late to kick you out?"

roommate!alan who has already taken a liking towards you in the few hours you two have spent together to unpack.

saying that people 'stared' at alan would be underplaying what they've actually done. it was a daily occurrence to catch people gawking at his stature. whether it was with astonishment, intimidation, lust, or hostility, all eyes were on him, collective eyes and gasps piecing together how a man could look the way he does. some whispered 'steroids', others envied his dedication.

as uncomfortable as it could be at times, he liked the attention knowing he'd be the subject of one's conversation to another friend.

with you, it was no different. he'd caught you several times staring at his arms from across the room. or maybe it was his shoulders? how they perfectly filled his shirt out from seam to seam? either way, you were enchanted, especially when he'd nonchalantly flex his muscles every now and then in hopes he'd catch your eye.

and he could say the same about himself when he'd catch you bent over, ass raised high while you dug inside of your boxes to unpack the remaining decor you had brought with you.

until that moment, he never noticed how much smaller you were compared to his, the top of your head barely meeting his chin if he was to line you up. how much of a desire had awakened to have you in his arms, just to see how you perfectly fit into his body.

getting to know each other.

roommate!alan who has already learned of your habits, likes and dislikes, and hobbies within a few weeks of you moving in.

it was the small stuff that you found yourself gushing over. you two almost always had dinner together on the couch. condiments on the side for you, ketchup over his fries for him.

whether it was homemade or takeout, the best memories being made between the two of you were simply eating in front of the tv and watching alan's roles despite his reluctance.

you would cheer whenever he appeared on the screen, the camera somehow making him seem smaller than he appeared to be in real life. it was impressive, and once again, you found yourself drawn to the sheer size of muscles beside you.

throbbing, even at the simplest touch, as he gave your shoulders squeeze amidst passing by you to collect your plate.

"have to head to bed early. got an audition in the morning." "awesome! was this the one you were telling me about earlier?" "yep. i worked with the director once, so fingers crossed?"

roommate!alan who can read your body language early on, and senses that you're hiding something from him.

it was that one question that either turned you into stone, or a babbling buffoon as you would try to avoid the subject.

your occupation.

he didn't know much other than the fact that you worked from home, which was why your bedroom was so intricately set up like a tech start-up.

four different types of cameras, a gaming chair, several monitors for one pc; it was intricate and honestly, alan didn't really understand it.

"so, you don't have to say yes or no, but..." "hm..?" "are you a youtuber? like, one of those tech guys who reviews new phones and stuff?" "something like that, i guess?" "is it mentally draining?" "more so... physically?"

roommate!alan who asks about your day after coming home from a shoot.

you looked exhausted, drained, wrecked—images of you that he never thought would rile him up. yet, as you groggily came out of your room with flushed skin, and a thirst that needed to be quenched, alan was equally parched just watching you recover your breath in between gulps of water.

cluttered state of mind.

roommate!alan who merely offers you a look of annoyance when you greet him after he arrives home.

you've recognized that look by now, and all you could simply provide was his dinner plate, and a sympathetic pat on the back.

"listen, i know a friend and he has a mutual that can help you—" "not in the mood right now, (m/n)." "just trying to help, alan."

roommate!alan who ends the night early, leaving you on the couch with his plate left untouched.

it was awkward, to simply put it. the show you put on happened to be the one he was auditioning for, and then ultimately flunked because he forgot his script. from the corner of your eye, you could see his jaw tightening, straining, fork scraping against the ceramic plate as he pushed the fried rice in a corner, and then eastward, because that corner was empty.

though, is it wrong to say that you found it hot? if only there was a less forward and awkward way of saying, 'hey, i'd love to take your mind off of things right now. let me suck you off.'

secret unlocked.

stressed!alan who spends half-an-hour in the shower contemplating whether this career was worth it.

countless of potential roles never making it pass the call-back stage; he was growing exhausted from it. driving from city to city, filling his car with gas that would amount to nothing in the end. he could only stretch his royalties out for so much longer, and—

no, he wasn't a quitter. the last time he felt like this, the next audition was a success. if predictions are right, he'd consider this madness a sign of luck, at least for the meantime.

stressed!alan who needs something to take out his frustration on.

maybe he should head to the gym? no, he already showered. and it was already getting too late for his liking to drive back and forth at this time, even if he wasn't tired.

at the corner of his eye, his laptop glinted with a sparkle.

some good porn would fix him.

stressed!alan who has one hand down his sweats, and the other calmly scrolling through his favorite cam site.

his lips grew chapped, licking them from time to time as he watched the page load without the decency to sugar-coat its offerings. his sight was immediately assaulted with moving thumbnails of women, and men under the spell of their own lust. some squirmed from the uncontrollable feeling of being filled, while others preferred talking to their patrons, touching themselves to the pixelated smut sent through the chat.

stressed!alan who has you on his mind despite the options to choose from, and he squeezes his large balls in his hand.

the cursor maneuvered respectfully around one performer’s breasts and another’s erection in its journey to the filter list. the drop-down menu pulled open and alan checked off the men within his age range. 

with a quick load, the website refreshed with a new assortment of performers, and his cock began to sprout at the moving thumbnails. his hand immediately began to feed his growing bulge with gentle squeezes and rubs as he scrolled what seemed to be endless cycle of camboys.

the sudden warmth of his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin. alan removed each article within seconds, yet the flush of his skin remained, ached as it yearned for the physical touch of the seductive men beckoning him.

stressed!alan who felt the world had stopped. the heat frozen in his cheeks, his hands equally mirroring as he hovered over a familiar face. strained, orbs dilated and wandering, and holy shit—so fucking inviting.

it was you.

stressed!alan who watches your stream for a few minutes to decipher if it was truly you before shamelessly stroking his cock after he confirms that it was.

sweat dribbled over your neck and body in diverging streams. your legs were raised on their own accord, thick thighs shaking from the muscles working overdrive to keep you still and perfectly centered before your webcam.

stressed!alan who couldn't believe what he was seeing. it all made sense now, why you were so reluctant to tell what you truly did.

you were a fucking whore. a whore for the internet for everyone to goon to, to cum to. he can imagine it now, how much pleasure you'd given these men as he watched you fuck yourself with a cucumber.

and he was one of them. alan's large cock was manhandled by his hand, stroking sloppily with an ample amount of lube squeezed over the flesh of throbbing muscle.

all those memories of you looking so wrecked came fluttering in. you looked wrecked because you were fucking wrecked.

by a fucking cucumber.

and alan has never been so envious of a vegetable despite eating them on a daily.

you were plunging your tight hole with a long cucumber, slickly lubed from the condom over the girth of the green plant. with every push of your wrist, your legs caved into the pressure to set themselves down, but every time the crown of the plant pressed into your prostate, you were reminded of the viewers who had been donating, their pop-up messages urging you to keep them up 'like a good boy.'

stressed!alan who jerks himself off to the rhythm of your wrist.

every time you sank the thick cucumber inside of you, alan paced himself to match your tempo, plunging himself into his closed fist, mimicking your refusing hole by opening his fingers one-by-one, until he had fully breached through.

stressed!alan who mutters to himself, who mutters words that you couldn't hear because you were busy pleasuring yourself for hundreds of men watching you.

"fuck yeah, take that dick..." "too big for you?" "fuck, we'll make it fit."

stressed!alan who imagines himself fucking into you.

he knew his cock was big. he'd been told countless of times, by men and women, and lots of time, they would quit a few minutes in because it was just too much.

but you, he was certain that you were able to take him. because—fuck—alan was bigger than that cucumber you were fucking yourself open with. it needed a glorious amount of lube, like what you had displayed before him, dripping heavily from your abused cavity, but luckily, you had experience in handling big sizes, right?

you'd take him, like the 'good boy' the users were spamming in the chatbox. you'd take him with your eyes forced shut from him stretching you out. from alan's impatience and reluctance to wait for you to adjust to him, because he's fucking furious at you.

why didn't you tell him sooner? why were you hiding this from him? how could you be so selfish and leave him blue-balled whenever you'd come out in those shorts of yours? teasing him with the smallest glimpse of your inner thighs?

if he could ever lay his hands on you, he'd show no mercy. fucking your ass doggy-style till your cheeks clapped. plunging you with his cock as you spread your legs open for him. locking your throat with his arm while he's under you, your back pressed to his chest, rendering you trapped within his embrace. you'd take his cock in every position, in every state, whether you'd like it or not, because you were a good, fucking, boy.

stressed!alan who spits on his cock because you began simultaneously filling your mouth up with a dildo.

spit. god, there was so much spit coming out of your mouth. you loved pushing yourself to the limit, alan could see it. the light leaving your eyes whenever you pushed the dildo a little too far to the back of your throat. that could be his cock, if you let him.

he imagined how warm your mouth would be. how perfectly shaped it's made for his thick, meaty cock. he had the perfect curve to make it a struggle to swallow him down, but like he noticed, you loved a challenge, didn't you?

alan's cock was plump, and beaten red in his hand. noises similar to the sound of you sucking off the dildo were made with his hand, his spit and lube sloshing together in a lewd symphony that could be heard from your room if you'd learn to shut up.

"choke on it, gag on that fucking dick..." "fuck yeah, spit on it." "good fucking boy."

stressed!alan who's nearing his climax from watching you tease the camera with your hole.

you repeated countless of profanities after every plunge of the cucumber flushing deep inside of you. you made sure to buy the girthiest one; they loved seeing your asshole gape at the end of the stream. twisting your wrist, you could feel the subtle ridges of the cucumber, violating your guts with its nature, and it was all-so glorious. the size, the texture, the viewers, the sound of donations coming in, the ‘thank you’ messages after for making them come; you were a true star within this community and it evidently showed when you finally hit your donation goal for the night.

alan fucked his fist, nearly coming to the sight of your gaping hole when you yanked the cucumber out of you like a sword-wielding knight ready to slay a dragon.

it was beautiful, watching you desperately hold onto the physical being of the cucumber, but all there was to it in the end was the memory of its girth. your hole was perfectly molded it, clenching and pursing, blowing fluttering kisses to the camera, to alan.

and if it was up to him, he'd ram his cock into you by now, not letting a second to spare in fucking you until your muscles felt like jelly, because fuck, you were so enticing like this. head lolled back, mouth open with your tongue hanging out as if you had a dripping cock to catch its cum above you.

the sound of donations kept chiming in, and alan knew he wasn't alone in this enchantment.

one more hit to your prostate, and you came undone in seconds. thick spurts of cum shot at your chest from your current position, then at your face when you raised your hips a little higher and pumped your cock with a ravishing fist. the sound of donations rang like a police siren. if you were being profiled for a crime, it was because you couldn’t hold in your cum any longer like one user had begged for you to.

stressed!alan who perfectly aligns his orgasm with yours and blows multiple loads on the screen on his laptop. his moans came out in hushed stutters, countering your choked whimpers that would then break out into begs for cum.

"fuck, fuck, fuck. i need your cum, i need it. give me all of it, fuck. all over my body. in my ass. on my face. i need that load."

his cum came out in thick, pulsating ropes, flying forward to land on the image of you resuming to fuck yourself to your audience's collective orgasm. this time, at a closer view, as you centered the camera to fill the stream with a screenful of ass and a gaping hole. it was your fans' favorite part of the stream, the chat exploding in several fire emojis and astonishment as you showed your pretty insides blooming for thick, endless spunk.

it was hypnotizing, almost as if you were really there before him.

with one hand, alan brought his laptop in between his legs, and smeared his own cum over the blooming resolution of his screen. feigning a breeding, he slides his cock over his cum, over his laptop screen, while you moaned in the background, begging lewdly for cum, to be filled, to be bred, to be dripping, to be fucked, and alan doesn't know what came over him, but another load automatically came out of him like some kind of spell.

"h-holy shit..." "fuck, yeah... give me that load, all your load... are my fans breeding me right now?"

alan painted you until you were practically hidden beneath the layers of his orgasm. translucent white blurred the screen, but he could still make out your silhouette. sitting now, exhausted, wrecked, evidently too tired to be bothered to clean up the mess you made on your body.

and just like that, his head felt lighter. all of his worries had left with every dump of load over your pixelated hole, and yours as well, as you leaned back to catch your breath with your eyes closed. his breathing matched the pace of yours, together, collectively, and all he could do was shortly laugh at the situation before him.

roommate!alan who greets you in the morning with a strange smirk as you made yourself breakfast.

"i can see why your job is physically draining now." "hm?" you yawned. "what are you talking—"

roommate!alan who pulls out a cucumber from the fridge, and cuts it into thin slices for his morning smoothie.

"i-i can explain—" "you can make it up to me tonight."

he popped a slice into his mouth after.

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

[moonsaver]

Anon that said they wanted to put Sunday in a Petri dish here again thinking about him. I had this thought about him while eating an avocado egg breakfast bagel but that’s not the point. I lowkey feel like the most annoying thing he’d do to me imo is bother me when I eat. Not any of that kidnapping or coercion stuff but just him bugging me when I’m annoyed and hungry. I feel like he’d constantly wipe the corners of our mouth and tell us not to talk when chewing. Literally the worst. At some point he’d probably spoon feed us too if we didn’t listen to him. Maybe even put a cute apron on us and make me sit in his lap. I need him in a concerning way I’m chewing at the bars of my enclosure rn

Welcome back anon!

Tw: food and eating mentions, mannerisms regarding food.. basically about eating and that being controlled. Probably not good to read if you struggle with eating in some way. Take precaution!

Honestly.. yeah. I feel like more than half the time it's how strict he is with "propriety' that makes being kidnapped and held hostage by him the worst.

I personally would hate someone constantly picking on my mannerisms. It's your home for goodness sake!

Whenever you sit languidly at the dinner table he's always "advising" you to sit "properly" and with a straight back, fix your posture, fix your etiquette regarding your spoons and forks, constantly teaches you how to properly cut your food and eat it, the "proper" angle or whatever. Tries forcing a habit onto you of always placing a napkin on your lap and eating slowly with better precision and more attention. Always fidgeting and cleaning the corner of your mouth with his handkerchief to the point your skin gets irritated and sometimes burns from the constant rubbing.

Whenever you complain about his incessant need to "fix" you, he simply sighs and tells you "it's for your own good". If you keep complaining, his eyebrows slightly furrow and he sighs, shaking his head before getting up and sitting beside you, taking the cutlery from your hands and deciding to feed you instead. Although his intention was to simply enforce a good habit into you, he supposes reaping different rewards isn't so bad either.. he likes feeding you. It kind of becomes routine for you two. He says until you learn how to properly handle yourself, he'll take care of you. It's just a fancy excuse for him to continue feeding you.

Thankfully, when it comes to dietary restrictions, he's not completely bonkers about it like an almond mom. Just doesn't allow too much or too little of anything, it's a bit specific, but at least satisfactory.

About the apron thing.. yeah.

I imagine Sunday can cook those mild, flattery, rich people food so if you want to eat actual damn meals he either orders them, or has them prepared by a chef. However.. one day he sees you in an apron making something for yourself and something about it intrigues him. Seeing you in an apron and the domesticity of it kind of pulls something inside of him.

So there you have it – he's always (not so) subtly trying to push you to cook more just so he can see you in an apron. Buys the frilly kind, but if you don't like that.. fine. He'll get you some minimalistic ones, but he wants to see them on you. Gets cookbooks for you, too. Acts like the chef "is running late" just so you might cook, or says "the order's going to take some time" instead. Also lists off benefits of cooking for oneself. Doesn't mind if you don't cook for two, but does insist that he keeps feeding you. Tells you to stay in your apron because it's more convenient than putting a napkin on your lap, and tells you to move closer so he can properly feed you. He'll sigh, and massage his temple, saying "it's not enough, you need to come closer", and makes you sit in his lap while he feeds you. You swear he goes slower just to keep you there for longer.

At least.. he's been in a happier mood since. He does enjoy feeding you. Removes his silken white gloves just to do so. I imagine he also likes tying the apron for you himself. If he does it from behind, he kisses your nape after he's done. Or if he does it from the front, he pulls you closer with the strings of the apron, and kisses your forehead. Also insists on tying up your hair (if it's possible) as "they might get in the way". His excuses are getting old, but it's not like you can exactly deny him.

[melrodrigo]

lunch - t.c. drabble

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You want to recreate Lunch with your girlfriend.

A/n: This was purely for my entertainment. Tell me ur favs from the album?

It was Billie Eilish’s fault.

It definitely wasn’t yours, turning on the new HIT ME HARD AND SOFT album and skipping to Lunch for something to listen to while you watched your own girlfriend make lunch. You’d been more than obsessed with the snippet she let out recently, and Tara had suffered the consequences.

The rays peeked through the window and reflected her brown hair, making it a shiny auburn—a color you adored. Tara in the sun was something you couldn’t believe you were around to witness, almost daily at this point, watching as her dark brown eyes sparkled and shone. The tan skin that would turn olive at the right angle, and lips that brightened with the sun.

You couldn’t lie—the vibrations of the music mixed with Tara’s tied up hair and pink cheeks were enough to have you feeling some type of way.

It definitely didn’t help that she was lip syncing and swaying to the song ever so slightly, smirking a little whenever she looked up and caught your eye.

You make your decision in a split second. It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done you think, coming up with this stupid plan.

You saunter over to Tara, trying to act nonchalant. She eyes you a little but lets it go when she sees you stop at the head of the kitchen table and sitting down.

“If I could, I would totally eat you for lunch.” You lean over to wrap your hands around your girlfriend and whisper in her ear, trying (and failing) to sound sexy.

“Gee thanks, what a charmer you are.” Tara says and hides the soft smile that comes naturally.

Luckily for her, you could only see one side of her face, the lopsided smile hidden on the either side. You let out an unimpressed huff.

“Okay but for real I totally would.” You try again, snaking your head and letting it rest in the crook of her neck, peppering the tender skin with light kisses.

Tara hums a little and continues cooking, continuing to sway to the music. She’s made up her mind already, but it’s nice to see you beg and grovel a little more.

“I love it when you cook.” You mumble against her, gripping her waist and urging her to turn around.

She gives up on trying to make food a few seconds later when she can tell you aren’t going anywhere.

You draw her in, cheeky smile while you stare at her lips shamelessly. Those perfect lips, tasting to you like how ambrosia would to a mortal; it’s near fatal. She fits right in between your thighs, her small frame easy to maneuver.

Tara was insecure about her height. Something you tried to show time and time again was nothing—in fact, you enjoyed the height difference a little too much to admit—always made Tara moody on a particularly shitty day.

“God, I love you.” You tell her, eyes finally shifting up to her eyes. Her eyes twinkle; you know you’re close to getting her to crack.

“You’re so desperate.” She whispers, leaning into you. It isn’t meant as an insult, and you don’t take it as one.

It was merely the truth; and you hated that she knew it.

“You need a seat? I’ll volunteer.” You sing along, letting go of one of Tara’s hands to point to your face, giggling as Tara rolls her eyes.

The sight of the brunette getting closer is enough to get you to stop.

“Still hungry?” She asks, and you think you might just die. It takes everything in you not to salivate openly. She’s tilting her head, a sign she’s decided she’s won.

So maybe you really owed Billie Eilish a kudos, you think as Tara stands up and drags you out of the room.

“Thank god Jojo Siwa invented gay pop.” You say, laughing a little nervous. It was a bad habit of yours to joke when you got excited.

It seems to fall on deaf ears, the girl in front of you not paying attention to any of the words pouring out your mouth now.

“What-what about lunch?” You gesture to her unfinished cooking wildly, knees buckling against her frame pushing you against her bedroom door.

“Fuck lunch.”

[fastandcarlos]

Sweet Gestures That He Does » F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

Max is the perfect gentleman; he’s always doing the little things that so many others forget. If a door is there to be opened, he gets it for you, when the two of you are out walking, he never lets you walk on the side of the traffic, if you have something heavy to carry, he always takes it from your grasp. Although to him his actions don’t count for much, for you, they’re incredibly significant as he makes sure that you feel safe and protected in his company. What always amazes you though, is that he never fails to treat you as his priority.

» Lando Norris

It doesn’t matter the time or place, Lando loves to treat you as his passenger princess and take you from place to place. If you need picking up from work, he’s there, if it suddenly starts to rain, he’s there to give you a lift, he doesn’t care…even if you call at 2am. Lando adores chaperoning you around and letting everyone see you be driven around by him. When he pulls up, he presses the horn to let you know that he’s arrived, and secretly he loves being able to embarrass you a little, especially when you’re stood with your colleagues too.

» Carlos Sainz

Food is the way to your heart, and Carlos definitely makes the most of that. He loves to cook for you whenever he gets the time and make sure that you’re eating plenty of good food. If you’ve got an important meeting, there’s a healthy breakfast there waiting, if you’ve had a tough day, your favourite comfort food is on the side for when you get home, Carlos has all occasions covered. Sometimes, you feel bad that he cooks so much for you, but it’s a job that he adores, especially knowing that what he does always puts a smile on your face too.

» George Russell

Being around George often feels a bit like a dream, and without him even knowing it, being around him often makes you feel as if you’re on cloud nine. You always appreciate George’s ability to take you away from the stress of your day and relieve you of any problems, without even doing anything. The way he looks at you, and holds onto you, is enough for you to relax for a while and feel as if everything is alright in the world. Half the time George doesn’t even spot that he’s doing anything, but it always feels nice to know that he’s helping you feel better.

» Pierre Gasly

The little gifts Pierre buys you are always gratefully received by you, he constantly manages to find the perfect thing for you. If he’s in a shop and sees your favourite chocolate bar, he gets it, or if he sees a pretty bouquet of flowers, he buys them, just because. To Pierre, the gestures are nothing, that’s just what a boyfriend does, but to you, they’re everything as it shows you time and time again that you’re always on Pierre’s mind and that he always somehow ends up remembering all of your favourite things and bringing them home to you.

» Charles LeClerc

Very few people in the world get to touch Charles’ hair, but you are one of the select few who does. Charles is happy to let you play with his hair as he knows how happy it makes you, even if you do leave it in a mess. Most of all though, he likes to let you play with his hair when he knows that you’re having trouble falling asleep. It’s a small gesture, at least to Charles anyway, but to you it always means a lot that he lets you mess up his perfect hair just because it makes him happy to know that you’re finally resting.

» Lewis Hamilton

Since the day you met Lewis, you always knew that Roscoe was a huge part of his life, and so when he started cuddling up to you more than he did Roscoe, and let you lay beside him a little more, it meant a great deal to you. Roscoe still liked to receive a lot of Lewis’ attention, but most of the time you tended to slightly overshadow Roscoe in Lewis’ world as you got more comfortable with each other. You never wanted to forget about Roscoe, but it was secretly very satisfying to know that you had taken over the number one spot in Lewis’ life.

» Alex Albon

Sometimes it was just a simple hello, but you always appreciated how Alex would always send you texts whenever he was away from home. It was an incredibly small gesture, but when you were sometimes on the other side of the world, it was a huge relief for you just to get a simple message and know that Alex was alright. He loved to say good morning and good night, even if it was the middle of the day for you, giving you as many regular updates as he could as Alex knew just how reassuring each message was for you.

» Yuki Tsunoda

If there’s one thing that Yuki is good at, it’s his ability to make you laugh. What you love about Yuki is that he doesn’t care how silly he looks, as long as it cheers you up. It’s not a physical gesture, but Yuki is more than happy to clown around in order to put a smile on your face. Whether it’s a joke, doing a silly dance, or tickling you until you’re pleading with him to stop, as long as you’re laughing, Yuki will do absolutely whatever it takes in order to be the person that makes your heart skip a beat.

» Logan Sargeant

One of your favourite times was when Logan came home, most of the time because he never managed to forget you during his adventures. After each trip, Logan would return with something that he had bought you, the perfect thing that caught his eye when he was shopping in the city. Logan loved how you always kept hold of the things he bought and treasured their sentimental value. Even if it was only a small gesture for him, knowing that he searched every week (despite how busy he was) to find the something that you’d love meant a lot to you.

» Daniel Ricciardo

You never underestimated the importance of work for Daniel, however, it didn’t matter how busy he was, Daniel was still always making you the priority above all else. Even if it meant he was late, Daniel would still send you a text if you needed him, or call you late into the night, no matter how tired it would leave him the next day. You often reassured Daniel that you understood how hectic things were for him, but he never let that stop him prioritizing you, making sure that you always felt loved and never second best to him and his car.

» Oscar Piastri

You weren’t exactly the most social person in the world, social media wasn’t a skill of yours, but luckily for you, it was for Oscar. One of his favourite things to do was photograph you, catching you off guard, lost in the moment, and always managing to snap you when you looked your absolute best. Oscar left you inundated with photos that you could share online, but what you didn’t know, was how many of those photos Oscar also ended up keeping for himself, looking at them and reminding himself of all your great memories whenever he found himself missing you.

» Lance Stroll

The two of you were very unknown amongst the F1 fans, Lance understood that you didn’t exactly want to be in the limelight, but that didn’t stop him showing you that he always thinking of you. When the camera caught him, he would often wink down the lens, whilst people thought that was his way of impressing the fans, only the two of you were aware that that was his secret sign to you. He would always do something just to show you that he was thinking about you, even if you weren’t able to be there to support him in person.

» Esteban Ocon

If there was one thing that Esteban was good at, it was hyping you up, and understanding the interests that you had. The two of you didn’t exactly share similar hobbies, but that didn’t stop Esteban being interested in the things that you liked and joining in with them whenever he had some free time on his hands. He loved them because you loved them, even if sometimes he found himself bored doing your hobbies with you, he would never say anything to you because he knew how much you loved being able to do your favourite thing with your favourite person for company.

» Zhou Guanyu

It didn’t matter how tired he was, how busy he was, or sometimes how smelly he was too, Guanyu would still always be happy to give you the biggest hug in the world. You were a massive cuddler, and Guanyu was more than happy to oblige and give you what you wanted. All you had to do was look at Guanyu with a sheepish smile and he knew exactly what it was that you wanted. He didn’t care if he had to stop what was doing, nothing could top being able to be by your side and cuddling up to you anyway.

» Kevin Magnussen

It was quite a simple gesture, but you loved the different pet names that Kevin used for you. He had different terms of endearment for you depending on how you were feeling, he knew the name to use to cheer you up, or the name to use when he was in your bad books and was trying to make things right again. Even your closest friends often commented on how cute the two of you were together, and although they loved to tease you both about it, you knew deep down they wished they could be as sweet as you two.

» Nico Hulkenberg

The way that Nico treated you was something that many people noticed, everyone went above and beyond for their partner, but Nico especially somehow still seemed to exceed that which many of the other drivers were in awe of. Every day that was some sort of gesture that blew you away, whether it was a surprise date night, or flight tickets for you to be able to fly out to him wherever the grand prix was being held, Nico constantly looked for new ways to impress you and leave everyone else very jealous, wishing they had a boyfriend as amazing as him.

» Valtteri Bottas

If there was one thing that made you love Valtteri, it was the amount of time that he spent on you and making you happy. He made time for you wherever possible, and when you did have the time, Valtteri would be looking for something fun and memorable that you could do together. It didn’t have to be anything grand, even just a bike ride in the mountains was enough for you, but what you appreciated the most was the planning that Valtteri put into your dates together, making sure that they were absolutely perfect for you both to enjoy.

» Sergio Perez

Sergio always impressed you with his gestures, but the moments when you appreciated them the most were those times when your stress levels were at an all time high. He was incredibly observant and always knew when the right time was for him to step in, to stop you rambling and stop you from tipping yourself over the edge. He didn’t have to do much, all you really needed was to know that he was there for you, listening to him whisper into your ear to distract you and reassure you that you didn’t need to worry with him there with you.

» Fernando Alonso

One thing that you were always very appreciative of was how amazing a dad Fernando was. You knew better than most how tired he could get, especially after returning from a race, but that never stopped him stepping up to the plate and taking on every responsibility. As soon as something didn’t quite seem right, he would be up on his feet, assuring you not to worry. Even if you had more energy then him, when he was home it was your turn to relax as Fernando paid you back with sweet gestures for being both parents whenever he was away from home.

[gildedphoenix]

Fire Escape - Dead on MAYn Day 1

Prompts uses: -Courting rituals -Flickering -Dinner interrupted by a fight -“Are they gone yet”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not beta read. 6k words. Jason has a stressful day and shares dinner with his downstairs neighbor, Danny. The following week, Danny leaves something for him. A courting ritual between busy, stressed disasters.

AO3: Fire Escape Dead on MAYn Blog @deadonmayn

Fire Escape 

Life as a vigilante was stressful. Their world was not always easy. Cases did not always wrap up nicely in thirty minutes with everyone skipping off, hand in hand. 

This was definitely one of those bad days. 

A child trafficking case, after dragging on for the last 3 months, ended horribly. The head of the ring got away before Hood and Nightwing could to box him in. Most of the kids were already gone, whisked away to another location while Jason and Dick were fighting to reach them. And the kids they were able to find? Jason took a deep breath. This wasn’t a night he would be able to forget anytime soon. 

He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight so after Dick left, Jason cooked. He made chicken and bacon stuffed shells with a creamy marinara sauce. The recipe always took forever but it was a welcome distraction. Jumbo shells, chicken, bacon, broccoli, cheese, and sauce and a dozen other components to prep and cook. No time to think of anything else.

Two hours later, Jason was still wired, but he had stuffed shells. Enough for his whole family, if he was honest with himself. Enough to feed those kids who didn’t make it. Enough to fill the stomachs that hadn’t been full in so long but would never be hungry again. 

Jason was broken out of his despair by a noise on the fire escape. His gun was in his hand without conscious thought. Slow, steady steps took him closer to the window until he could see the potential intruder. 

Jason's shoulders dropped back down as he spotted his downstairs neighbor outside their window. It wasn’t unusual to see Danny out on the fire escape, one level down. Nothing unusual. Nothing to be concerned about. 

Jason reupholstered his gun before Danny spotted him and turned back to the kitchen. They’d introduced themselves when Danny moved in a few weeks ago at the beginning of the fall semester but hadn’t interacted much since then. 

Grabbing the casserole dish and an extra plate and fork, Jason stepped out onto his level of the scaffolding and called down to Danny. 

“Hey, you want some food? I made too much and can’t possibly eat it all.” Jason set the dish down between himself and the stairs and started in on his own plate. 

“Oh my god, Yes! I haven’t had food all day! You are a life saver. A knight in shiny armor.” Danny made his way up the stairs and peeked his head just above Jason’s level. He reached slowly for the extra plate and serving spoon while watching Jason. Jason motioned a little ‘go ahead’ with his own fork and Danny’s face lit up as he scooped a modest portion of shells onto his plate. “I was stuck in meetings all day. The council just wanted to drag everything out and every issue solved spawned two more. And it’s not even like they listen to me,” he stopped, eyes wide and he put the serving spoon back in the dish and looked intently at his own plate. “Not that they would. You know. I’m just a,you know, just an intern. I’m not even paid. Just an unpaid internship. Yep. I’m just there to take notes and get college credit. I’m an engineering student at Gotham U.” He glanced over at Jason, eyes a little panicked as he tried to sell his obvious lie. “But I don’t wanna bore you. You probably have a real job with real stress. I’m just an intern student. Aaaaaaand I’m gunna stop rambling now and go eat. Yep. Thank you.” 

Danny clammered back down the stairs (and Jason could swear he missed that last step based on the noises) before settling down against the wall next to his window. With a chuckle, Jason took another bite of his food. “You’re right, my job is stressful. That doesn’t mean you’re day can’t be stressful too, though. Stress is relative. We all handle it differently. It’s how I ended up making too much food. I’ve got a big family and I just went on autopilot and before I knew it I’d made enough to feed them all, even though none of them are over tonight. It’s still a nice way to decompress. I’ll give them a call tomorrow to see if any of them want some but this dish is better fresh.” He leaned back against his own wall, eyes closed, taking in the steady constant noises of the city. The chatter of Crime Alley and the more distant rumble of Gotham. It was several minutes before Jason heard Danny call up again. 

“This is amazing. I don't think I’ve eaten anything this good since….Actually never. I definitely can’t make anything like this and my parents didn’t really do home cooked meals.” 

Jason glanced down through the grates and Danny was scraping the sauce off the plate onto his fork. Jason decided to show some mercy before the poor guy started licking the plate. “Feel free to grab more. I’m not gonna eat this all and my siblings should have clairvoyantly known I was cooking if they really wanted any.” Jason chuckled a bit but it also didn’t seem that unrealistic. 

“Thanks! I’m going to be full for a week after this.” Danny popped back up the stairs, his face lit up in joy, as he pulled the dish over to him, spooning out a full plate of shells this time. “I guess their loss is my gain.” He went back down to lounge against his own wall. 

An easy silence fell. The noises of the city a distant juxtaposition to the bubble they had created. Just two people enjoying food. Enjoying a little down time. Enjoying peace.

****

A few days later, Jason came home to a surprise. He didn’t expect to really hear from his neighbor again beyond the occasional waves and hellos they had previously established. Just the coming and going in the stairs or passing on the street. But there on the outside of his window was a sticky note. Black with tiny nebulas, Jason’s name was scrawled with silver glitter gel pen and an arrow pointing down.

He opened the window and looked down to see if Danny was out, Jason spotted a ziplock bag full of cookies and a thermos. With Danny nowhere in sight, Jason inspected the note again and on the other side was more writing.

“I can’t cook anything near as good as what you made, but these are my favorite cookies from the bodega by campus. I like them with cardamom tea.” 

Jason opened the bag and caught a whiff of the cookies. He had fully intended to run them through a spectrometer but the enticing scent of ginger snaps and some urge deep within his soul overrode his caution. He took a small bite. And they were delicious. The spices were deep and warm. The molasses earthy. Setting them aside for a moment, he opened the thermos and took a tentative sip. The tea was still warm and lightly sweetened. The sharp spices of the tea playing well off the warmth of the cookies. 

He’d never had anyone leave him offerings like this. The thought stopped him for a moment. 

Gifts. Not offerings, gifts. He shrugged and grabbed a book from his TBR shelf. Settling in with the cookies and tea to relax before he had to go out for patrol. His mind was distracted by stray thoughts of what he might be able to leave his neighbor in return. 

****

Danny hated his teachers. He hated this city. He hated his creaky apartment. Though he didn’t mind the eye candy of his upstairs neighbor when they passed on the stairs. And if Danny turned around once in a while to watch Jason go up the stairs and enjoy the view? Well that was just the payment he deserved from the universe for the elevator always being out. There were other perks too, Danny decided thoughtfully. He and Jason had been leaving each other little offerings on the fire escape and it had become the best part of Danny’s day. It wasn’t every day, maybe more like once a week. But the joy he got when there was a little package outside his window? Unparalleled. As if matching Danny’s galaxy post it note energy, Jason left notes with his gifts on stationary that looked like old parchment paper, quotes from classic authors printed along the bottoms. Just a little explanation of what the gift was and where it was from. Or sometimes, if it were a homemade dish, Jason would include where he’d got the recipe from. Danny was on the look out for a larger notepad that was still space themed. He found he was running out of space on his post its and using two seemed like trying too hard, as if going out and buying all new stationary wasn’t also trying too hard. But Jason didn’t have to know it was new. Danny could have already had this. 

To Danny’s joy, there was a take out box outside under his window today. No Jason to be seen, but they rarely made it outside at the same time. Their schedules rarely lined up.

“I found a new korean place over off Vermont St. I got you some char sui pork buns. I hope they help tonight while you’re studying for finals. The things you’ve left for me have always made my evenings better.  -Jason”

And at the bottom, the little book quote read “‘Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’ ‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.’” -Charlotte’s Web

What had started as a simple shared meal from Jason making too much food after work had become the best part of Danny’s week. And it seems like Jason might feel the same. A lovely give and take of food offerings. A courtship. Or at least, Danny liked to think of it that way. But even just simple friendship was a welcome feeling. At least now he knew Jason also liked their little dance and this wasn’t out of some misconstrued obligation. And Jason even remembered that he was a student and that it was finals week. That extra thought had Danny blushing as he took the buns to his kitchen counter and stuck the note on his fridge with a comet shaped magnet. Danny kept all the notes Jason left. Luckily the fridge couldn’t be seen from the window because otherwise Danny would die (again) of embarrassment. As it was, he simply enjoyed his dinner while rereading Jason’s words.

****

“Wait a minute” Dick interrupted Jason’s story description of Danny’s most recent gift of curry and boba tea. “So you and this guy-” “Danny,” Jason corrected. Dick nodded, a conspiratorial smile growing. The kind of smile your brother gets when he stumbles across potential blackmail material on you. “So you and Danny” Jason did not like that tone, “have been leaving gifts outside each others windows.” Jason nodded, “Every week, or MORE,” Dick looked pointedly at Jason for confirmation, to which Jason nodded again. “And you FINALLY tell him that his gifts ‘make your day better’ and you use the page with a quote from Charlotte’s Web about FRIENDSHIP?” 

“What’s the matter with that? It’s not like I picked it specifically. It was just the next page.” Jason was beginning to regret sharing this joy with his dick of a brother.

“Ok, So.” Dick threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders, “We need to either work on your delivery, or get you some stationary with better quotes. You’re clearly over the moon about this guy-” “Hey, what makes you say that? I just- It’s- I…”Jason stuttered, trying to gather his scrambled thoughts. “Having something to look forward to after I get off patrol is nice. And having someone go out of their way to do that for me…” 

Dick really looked at his brother. It wasn’t often that Jason managed to look small these days. But there he sat, shoulders hunched, fingers fiddling with Danny’s most recent note. It wasn’t a sticky note size, but a small half page. Very much like Jason’s own notepad with the quotes from famous authors. He was absentmindedly folding the paper back and forth, making lines from star to star among the constellations decorating the page. “Jason,” Dick dropped his teasing tone and waited for his little brother to look up. “It sounds like you’ve got a good thing going here. I wouldn’t want you to mess it up by being impatient. You laid out your cards, in a small careful way, and you received something in turn,” he nodded to the creased note. “Keep taking those steps. I can see how happy this has made you, even as simple as it is. Keep finding things you think he’ll like. Keep leaving your little courtship gifts. And maybe just flip through your stationary and pick the quotes a bit more deliberately,” Dicks eyes glinted dangerously, “You lit’ nerd.” Dick quickly flipped backwards from sitting into several handsprings across the training mat, his maniacal laughter echoing across the cave as he tried to escape the very predictable ire of his younger brother.

“Oh that’s it! You’re in for it now!” Jason rolled up onto the mats to chase Dick, joy in his heart and violence on his mind. Danny’s note settled to the floor, waiting for Jason’s response. “I hope you like curry! I got a medium spicy, but eat it with the naan if it’s too hot. Your gifts are the highlight of my day whenever you leave me something.” And then, hand written at the bottom of the page where Jason’s stationary had quotes, “With all the stars in the sky, and all the people in the world, I’m glad I ended up in a constellation next to you.”

****

“Guys, I’m going to die.” Danny declared and then promptly face planted into Sam’s couch. They were having their monthly catch up dinner and hang out. Sam was attending Metropolis University for Law with a minor in environmental studies. Her parents weren’t happy with her obvious post grad plans, but she was fulfilling their terms of getting a traditional, respectable degree, so they were footing the bill. That included her off campus apartment because no daughter of theirs was about to live in those dingy college dorm rooms. 

Tucker was attending MIT while also building a name for himself in the hacker community. Two streams he was desperately trying to keep from crossing, lest MIT expel him on ethics. 

Danny, of course, was attending Gotham U for aerospace engineering and astronomy. Their schedules made it hard to find a common evening once a month that they were all free. Danny’s ability to make portals (thanks to a new set of powers and abilities that came with being Ghost King of the infinite realms) made it slightly easier to get everyone in the same room once they found the time. Danny’s muffled voice drifted up from the couch cushions. 

“What was that Danny? I couldn’t quite get that through the literal couch in your face.” Sam sassed.

Danny lifted his face from the fluff and whined, “I left Jason the sappiest note and by the time I came to my senses, he had already taken iiiiiiiiiit! And now he’s read it and he hates me and he’s never going to talk to me again or leave me homemade cookies or anything else ever again and it’s all because I read too deep into a quote from fucking Charlotte’s Web!” He flopped onto his back and then slowly melted off the couch, thumping to the floor when Sam pushed him to make room to sit down with her pho bowl. 

“Come on man, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Tucker said. “Tell us what you wrote.” “No.”

“Don’t make me check the security footage. You know we’ve got HD cameras on your place.” Tucker, horrible friend that he was, was already pulling up the footage. The cameras had been installed as a valid security measure but were mostly used to retrieve blackmail footage against Danny by his friends. Danny had a tendency to glow and float as he stargazed on rare clear nights in Gotham and Sam and Tucker gave him no end of shit about it. 

“Did you find it?” Sam asked excitedly, crowding closer while holding Danny off with a boot to the face. 

“Yep! Let’s see, ‘Hope you like curry,’ blah blah blah, oh here. ‘With all the stars in the sky, and all the people in the world, I’m glad you ended up in a constellation next to me.’ You’re right.” Tucker declared solemnly. “It is bad. He’s never going to talk to you again. He’s gunna move states. Dye his hair. Change his name! You’ll never find him again and you’ll never find love.” Tucker lost his deadpan demeanor and dissolved into laughter. 

Danny glared at him and phased the couch out from under him. Tucker hit the floor still laughing and didn’t stop. 

“Captain Chuckles can stay on the floor, but please re-solidify my couch. I like it to exist in this dimension.” Sam nudged Tucker ever so gently out of the way so that the couch could exist again. 

“But really. Was it too much?” Danny asked Sam, since Tucker was clearly just going to be useless. 

“I think it was honest and forward. I think if you guys had been going on traditional dates, then it might be too much.” Dannys face fell and his shoulders slumped. “But!” Sam interjected quickly, “That is not what you guys are doing. For better worse, you have some archaic courting ritual going on. You’ve only been exchanging words and gifts. Small offerings of your heart and soul. To give less than your full self in this situation would be disingenuous. I don’t think it was too soon, especially since he initiated the sentiment. Sure, writing down undying love,” Danny and tucker both chuckled at the ‘undying’ part and Sam kicked them both for it, “Would have been too much. But directly stating that you enjoy the little dance you have going on? And that you like him? Nah. I think you did good. Especially since he’s clearly a literary nerd.”

“Yeah” Tucker chimed in, “He matches well with your space nerd!” 

“Oh that’s it! You’re in for it now!” Danny rolled off the couch and chased Tucker around Sam’s spacious apartment, promising to freeze him to the ceiling once he caught him. 

****

Jason decided to take a night off patrol. Nothing major should be going on tonight. The Alley could do without him being a helicopter parent for one evening. He wanted to make a more involved meal for Danny. There was a good chance that they would see each other tonight. Jason had connected some dots and realized that Danny, the beautiful face and soul that he was, liked to stargaze on clear Gotham nights. This would be the first clear night in weeks and there was no way that Danny would miss the opportunity. 

So Jason got started early. Rissoto didn’t look fancy but it took skill to get right. The results, when done right, were amazing. Jason had also picked up a bottle of wine. Call it wishful thinking, but he hoped Danny would share it with him and they might sit down and really get to know each other. That would be nice. 

****

As Jason stood, stirring his hopes and risotto, Danny was one floor down trying not to burn the entire building down. This was his fourth night trying to make the same thing.  He’d watched so many videos. So many tutorials. All of them said this could be done by a beginner cook if they just followed the steps. None of them really sold how difficult it was though. Someone needed to start a cooking channel where an average person tried to follow these recipes. 

The first attempt, several nights ago, ended in him realizing that he could not melt sugar on top of a creme brulee in a plastic ramekin. Fire plus plastic is bad. That was the first batch ruined. 

The second batch didn’t set in the oven. Which didn’t make sense because he’d done everything the same as the first batch, which had turned out fine. 

The third batch, he turned the oven up just a but realized while he was cleaning up egg shell that he’d never actually put eggs into the second batch. By the time he got the third batch out of the oven, they were horribly over cooked. 

For the fourth batch, he laid out all his ingredients, portioned and in order of use. Set his oven back to the right temperature and gave an offhanded prayer to Clockwork for proper timing. 

The timer dinged, the custards wobbled ever so slightly and Danny about collapsed with relief as he got them safely removed from the oven and set on his counter. He took a moment to contemplate how he’d ended up cooking the same dessert four nights in a row. These were way too complicated for him. But he’d done this to himself. He’d looked up “impressive desserts to make for your date” and Creme Brulee topped half the lists. Last step was to toast the tops with a micro torch after they cooled. 

Danny returned to his homework while he waited.

****

Jason opened his window, two servings piping hot seafood risotto plated and ready. He’d heard muffled cursing from downstairs, so he knew Danny was home. Most likely cursing one of his professors. Jason left the bottle of wine just inside his window. He was hopeful that the evening would go well but no sense in being presumptuous. He wasn’t even sure if Danny liked wine, or drank at all! 

Starting down the fire escape, Jason was surprised to see Danny already out. He was peering into the eyepiece of a telescope muttering to himself. Danny did talk to himself a lot now that he thought about it. Not wanting to startle him, Jason waited on the upper level of the fire escape and simply watched. Admired the object of his affections these past months. It was odd to think how much they’d both put into the relationship so far for how little time they’d actually spent together. Danny sat on the stairs in his Nasa hoodie and some Justice League pajama pants, which caused Jason to chuckle quietly to himself.

Sitting next to Danny was an open notebook, Danny’s chaotic handwriting scattered over the page along with some very precise charts. Jason almost didn’t believe they were hand drawn except that they were penned in the same aggressively bright neon green sparkly gel pen as the chicken scratch writing. What a strange dichotomy. Next to the notes sat a tray with two ramekins of creme brulee. As Dannys hand moved down to make some notes Jason noticed several bandaids with burns peeking out from under them. Had Danny made the creme brulees himself? He’d mentioned a few times that he was hopeless in the kitchen. Had he gone to all that trouble and apparently pain, to make something for Jason? 

For no particular reason, Jason needed to clear his throat, which startled Danny of his concentration trance. “Oh! You’re here!” Danny said. He capped the eyepiece and looked around. “I made you something. You’re always making things for me and I’ve just been buying things so I wanted to put more work into your gifts. So I made these. For….For us. I was hoping you’d eat with me? I waited out here for you. Also it was a great night for some stargazing so I was just doing that while I waited, of course, because sometimes you come home really late. Not that I’m watching you!” Danny’s hands came up defensively, a blush coloring his cheeks as he rambled. Eyes darting away, he started clearing off the stairs for them to sit. Moving his notebooks and the creme brulees. Jason just smiled at the disaster he was already half in love with. He couldn’t wait to learn all of Danny’s quirks and habits. Would he always ramble on or was this just jitters? Would Danny’s face light up the same way every time Jason came home from patrol? He hoped so. He wanted to make this work. He wanted to come home to that face.

“I’m actually really glad you’re out here,” Jason said, saving Danny from himself. “I’ve seen your telescope and noticed that you like to come out on clear nights. I was hoping you’d have dinner with me again. I made seafood risotto. It’s shrimp and muscles. Would you like some?” Jason presented the plates to Danny as he came down the stairs. 

“Yeah. I’d love to have dinner with you. I like any food that doesn’t try to eat my back. I don’t think I’ve ever had risotto. Let me just finish moving my junk.” He smiled as he set everything off to the side in a pile.

Jason settled down and handed one of the plates and a fork over to Danny. “How has school been going? I think you mentioned you were going for engineering?” Danny nodded. “What made you pick Gotham U? Most people are trying to leave the city, not come here.”

“Oh, that’s easy. But two reasons really. First, Gotham U has the Wayne Tech scholarship program and the great internship programs. I’ve also heard hush-hush rumors about some great job opportunities that recruit from Wayne Tech. If it’s true, I want to be here.” Danny gazed up longingly at the sky. Wayne Tech of course had partnerships with NASA but that was a well known connection. It wasn’t hush hush. The only thing Jason could think of that Danny would be alluding to would be jobs on the Watchtower. They did hire civilians, but the Justice League hand selected the best of the best. Bruce and Lucius kept their eyes out for those people. Not that he supported nepotism, but Jason wouldn’t mind making sure Danny’s name got added to the hat once he was ready. 

“The other reason,” Danny said, breaking Jason out of his future planning, “is that Gotham is the only city I could find with even half the amount of crazy as Amity, my home town. We had some crazy super villains and after growing up with that daily madness, I can’t settle down in a peaceful city.” He took a moment to savor the food, bliss coming across his face. It made Jason want to make more food for him. Jason wanted to bring him that joy again. To provide for Danny and take care of him. “This is really good! I love your food. Best thing I’ve ever had every time. I just hope what I made doesn’t give us both food poisoning.” “Hey, I’m sure it’s great. Did you burn your fingers making that? I saw the band aids. Even if you need chaos, I’m sure you don’t need to make more by burning yourself making dessert. Just walk through the alley in the daytime and I’m sure you’ll get enough excitement.” 

“Nah, Muggers are small potatoes.” Danny contested. “Most exciting thing that can come of that is Red Hood showing up. And I’m typically not out while he’s patrolling. Hood keeps most of the rif raf out of the area, so I generally feel safer here than the rest of Gotham.” 

“Hmmm. So Hood is doing better than the bats and birds? I’m sure Batman would love to hear that.” Jason bumped Danny’s shoulder playfully. “Since you’ve been here for a few months now, do you have a favorite bat or bird?”

“Red Hood.” Danny said quickly and decisively. “Definitely Red Hood. Not only does he have his area on lock down, so much so that even the other Bats stay out. Black Mask? Nope. Traffickers? Gone. Most violence? Low level. I know some of the bigger name rogues will ignore all the boundaries but they’re really not known for following the rules so they don’t really count. And also he’s….” Danny stopped abruptly, a blush coming over his cheeks. “But what about you? You grew up here. Who’s your favorite?” 

“That’s a hard choice. I remember when it was just Batman and Robin OG. So I would say it was original Robin, then Nightwing, but then he abandoned us for Bludhaven. Now It’s probably BlackBat. Though the current Robin is also doing a great job. He gets a lot of shit for being so young and violent but what do people expect? Of course he’s violent. Being Robin is not easy. It’s- And now I’m rambling on.” Jason chuckled. “BlackBat. She’s my favorite. For now.” 

“Hmmm. I haven’t heard a lot about her. It makes sense since what I have heard is that she’s the stealthiest of the bats.” 

Some time during the conversation they had relaxed, no longer holding a strict gap between their bodies. Forks clinked as they sat shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip on the narrow fire escape staircase. A peaceful silence fell around them like a cozy blanket. 

“Can I try one of the creme brulees?” Jason asked, having finished his food already. “I would hate to see all your hard work, pain, and suffering go unappreciated.”

“Sure, but you’re taking your life into your own hands. Just do me a favor and lie to me about how good it is.” Danny passed one of the desserts and a small spoon over to Jason. Their hands touched and they both paused, but neither pulled away. 

A gentle smile grew on Jason’s face as a blush returned to Danny’s cheeks but still neither pulled away.  The world seems to pause around them, allowing them this moment. The soft light coming from the windows flickered….and then went out. 

“Um…What just happened?” Danny asked, looking around. The ambient glow of Gotham still loomed in the distance but most of the closer lights had gone out, just street lamps remained. Down at the end of the street, a red glow flickered. The glow of fire. “I gotta go.” They both said at the same time. Their eyes met in the dim light. Shadows made masks on their faces and sudden understanding lit their eyes. A mutual epiphany.

“Be safe.” Danny said to Red Hood. “You too.” Jason responded before darting back up the stairs and into his apartment. 

****

Danny’s mind was reeling. How could he not have noticed? All the clues were there in hindsight. The late nights. The tired days. The various bruises and scrapes. Even the vague half answers and glaring lack of personal info in their brief conversations. But in that moment of calamity, Jason’s entire demeanor shifted. His shoulders squared and resolution threaded every fiber of his frame, and what a great frame it was. On the plus side, Danny felt less conflicted about staring at Red Hood’s ass while courting Jason. They were the same ass. The same thighs. The same broad shoulders that Danny had way too many private thoughts about. 

Focus Danny!

Once he got into his closet, he transformed. While he no longer shouted “Going Ghost” at the top of his lungs (He was young, leave him alone), he didn’t have any way to dampen the bright flash of light his transformation gave off. So into the closet he went. 

Flying through his apartment walls and over the battle zone he quickly assessed the lay of the land. There seemed to be two groups shooting at each other from opposite corners of the street. Behind every available place of cover and down every alley, people were hiding. Sneaking into the intersection from their apartment was Red Hood, also assessing the situation from the ground. His eyes raked over both factions, the civilians, the fire escapes and windows, and even the rooftops. Danny was impressed because few people thought to look up. Danny allowed himself to pop back into the visible spectrum as Jason’s gaze passed over the rooftop Danny was hovering over. Nobody else was looking up. Nobody ever looked up.

Danny pointed at Hood, then at the violence. Then after a pause, pointed at himself and circled his hand around to indicate the surrounding area. He hoped Hood would catch that Danny was going to take care of the civilians and general crowd control. Jason nodded and took out two of his guns, checking the safety and loads before focusing on the task ahead. Danny faded back to invisibility and looked around for the most vulnerable of the civilians to get them out first.

****

The firefight took much longer to handle than Danny expected. He was used to one on one or maybe himself versus a group, but never a gang war like this. Never with so many people. So many combatants. So many innocents in the line of fire. 

The noise in the streets had been like listening to a bag of popcorn. Shots overlapping. Echoing endlessly. A constant incomprehensible cacophony of gunfire. As Danny got more civilians to safety, the density of noise began to wane. Little by little the gunfire spread out as Hood disabled the shooters and their weapons until it went from constant noise to just isolated pops to silence. 

Danny allowed himself to become visible atop the same roof as earlier when he noticed Jason looking for him once more. Danny held his fist out, thumb to the side, head cocked in question. Red Hood returned the thumb out fist and turned it up briefly, before pointing with his thumb over his shoulder back towards their apartments. Danny turned up his thumb to match and nodded before disappearing and leaving Hood to the mercy of the converging Bats. Danny didn’t even remember them showing up. He was so focused on getting people to safety. He was glad Jason had help though. He sped back to his own apartment to wait. To pace restlessly and hope that Hood hadn’t been hurt.

****

Jason was annoyed. Bruce was annoying for trying to act like he was in charge while standing in Jason’s damn apartment. Tim was annoying, standing off to the side while silently judging Jason’s lack of coffee choices. Oracle was annoying for sending Bats his way when she heard him get winged by a stray round at the beginning of the firefight. He was even annoyed with himself for somehow missing that Danny was apparently a vigilante? Or maybe a rogue? He needed them to leave. He needed to check on Danny. There was clearly some kind of powers involved but nothing to say that Danny couldn’t be hurt. That he wasn’t hurt. He’d seen Danny peek his head around the window frame three separate times before literally disappearing from view each time. Clearly waiting until Jason was alone again to talk.

“Look.” Jason interrupted whatever Bruce was saying. “I’m tired. I was already in for the night before that clusterfuck even began. I need you both out of my place because I have a date with a cup of tea and possibly a shot of whiskey.” Jason stalked over and opened the front door in clear invitation to leave. “Out. And tell O to mind their own business and butt out of my feeds.” Jason continued to motion out the door. Gentleman that he was, he even waited politely until their capes were all the way out the door before slamming it behind them. Jason took a deep breath and turned around as he felt the air shifting.

“Are they gone yet?” Danny asked. His inexplicable white hair from the battlefield was gone but he was floating a couple inches off the floor. 

Jason wondered if he knew he was doing it as he walked over to retrieve the bottle of wine. 

“Yeah. They’re gone for now. Let’s talk.” 

[dixons-sunshine]

we BEG for some vamp!daryl x reader headcanons😩

Vampire!Daryl Dixon x Reader Headcannons

Word count: 881.

A/n: Ask and you shall receive! I'm so happy that y'all like my version of vamp!Daryl. It really means the world to me. Also, I'm working on a Michonne fic that I wanted to have up tonight but it's taking me a little longer than I had anticipated, so it should be up tomorrow instead. Anyway, I hope you like this!

★ Daryl kept his vampire side a secret from everyone at the quarry camp.

★ He fed on his hunts and never around people.

★ He'd eat the beans that were offered to him by you, but realistically he knew that, even though he could consume human food, they held absolutely no nutrition for him and he'd starve if he didn't feed. So he'd eat the food offered to him and just get the blood he needed when he went on hunts.

★ You were the first person to find out that he was a vampire, and it was completely on accident.

★ You had stumbled across him feeding on a rabbit when you went looking for mushrooms, and had freaked out at the sight.

★ However, you didn't freak out because he was feeding on a rabbit. You freaked out because, from your perspective, he looked like a walker, hunched over the rabbit.

★ It took a lot of convincing and reassurance for you to calm down and not tell the others what you had seen.

★ You kept his secret pretty well, considering the fact that you seemed to be afraid of him.

★ However, you started getting more comfortable around him when you sustained an injury while looking for Sophia that was extremely bloody and he didn't even flinch. He simply picked you up and took you to Hershel to get you fixed up.

★ When you later asked him about it, he told you that he had years of practice behind him. That's how he was able to resist the smell of your blood.

★ The two of you formed an unlikely friendship after that. It shocked everyone, including Daryl himself, but for some unknown reason, he wasn't complaining.

★ You were the one who hunted and brought back some animal blood for him when he was injured while looking for Sophia.

★ You were also the one who convinced Hershel to let Daryl back to his tent earlier. You knew with Daryl's advanced healing, and with the blood you got for him, he'd be healed in no time. That would be extremely hard to explain.

★ Daryl's identity got revealed when the farm fell and he used some of his inhuman speed to save a couple of people.

★ It took a while to get used to him after that, but when people saw he didn't pose any immediate threats, people weren't too worried about him anymore.

★ Yours and Daryl's relationship only grew as the days progressed.

★ You went hunting with Daryl and asked him questions about his species, and without him really knowing, you made a mental list as to how to care for him.

★ One thing you were surprised to note was his complete self-control when it came to human blood. You knew he had told you that he had years of practice, but it was still impressive to see his self-restraint.

★ Daryl once had to kill a person with his fangs to save you. That's the only time you saw him lose control and feed on a human.

★ He thought that you'd be terrified of him after that, but you weren't. Quite the contrary, you found what he did to keep you safe kind of hot, but you would never outrightly admit that to him.

★ As the days went on, Daryl's feelings for you only grew stronger.

★ Unbeknownst to him, your feelings for him grew stronger as well.

★ When the prison fell, Daryl felt as if he just wanted to die completely.

★ And when he found you again after Terminus with Carol and Tyreese, he felt like he was alive again—truly alive for the first time in decades.

★ The weeks before you found Alexandria was a whirlwind of emotions.

★ But when you got to Alexandria, things started to look up. So much so that you felt courageous enough to just act on an impulse and grab him by his jacket and pull him into a kiss.

★ That first night in Alexandria, the two of you spent a passionate night together.

★ The two of you kept your relationship a secret from everyone. Daryl's identity wasn't a secret from the people in Alexandria because he couldn't be bothered to hide that part of him, so the two of you didn't need any judgement from them because a human and a vampire were in a relationship.

★ The first time Daryl ever agreed to drink from you was after your first encounter with Dwight and Sherry.

★ He was weak and needed the strength to keep the two of you safe since the two people took your weapons, so he needed blood—your blood.

★ He wouldn't admit it, too ashamed to do so, but your blood was like a tasteful, addictive drug to him.

★ One taste was enough to make him want more, but he would never do so without your consent.

★ Whether he ever drinks more of your blood, I'll let you all decide.1

[the-boy-meets-evil]

maybe something sweet and fluffy with woozi. trying to stay late to surprise him with dinner or something but he finds you asleep on the couch. he's been stressed and working more than usual (insane behavior) and you just wanna help him relax and take the weight off his shoulders

pairing: jihoon x gn!reader genre: est. relationship | fluff, maybe the tiniest bit suggestive rating: e for everyone (but this blog is still 18+) word count: 1440 warnings: mentions of food but nothing else

author's note: thank you for sending this! i am painfully late with this (and wanted to wait to finish all the requests before posting). this is for my baby @effortandmore for her birthday drabbles. ily lauren 💕 divider by @cafekitsune

taglist: @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality (strikethrough means can’t tag, check your settings!), join my taglist here

You’ve loved Jihoon for a long time. As a friend first and then slowly as something much more. When you first met him, you thought he was hard to read. Difficult to ever really know. As you spent more time around him, that idea morphed into something else as well. He’s not the kind of person to be vocal about what he’s thinking or feeling. If you’re waiting for him to tell you how he feels, then you’re going to be waiting for a while. Unless you know where to look.

That’s probably why it took you time to realize all the ways he was telling you that you were more than a friend to him. Over time, he started inviting you just to be around him when he was working on projects at home. Or inviting you over to do your own work at his place while he did chores around the house. Slowly, you realized that he always had your favorite snacks in the cupboards and favorite drinks in the fridge. Occasionally you would even mention needing something in passing and it would show up delivered to your house a day or two later. Never with a note, but always with the understanding that it was Jihoon taking care of it. Taking care of you. You realized that your heart shifted to caring about him as more than a friend before your brain even caught up. It was like he had been showing you all along that you could depend on him. 

Jihoon isn’t always one to say what he’s feeling, but he likes to hear it from you. It’s cute to watch his face light up when you tell him how much he means to you or why you think about him throughout the day. He’s easy, though, because he’s just as happy to have you around. Sometimes you don’t say anything at all, just curl up on the couch to watch a favorite show. Those are some of your favorites because you know how much space he’s made for you in his home. You know how important that space is to him so that he can recharge. But, he accepts you like you always belonged there with him. 

Lately, work has been a little overwhelming for him. Maybe not overwhelming as much as busy. You know how much he likes to be busy and would prefer that to work being too slow. It’s also clear how much he likes to solve a problem and be the one to find that elusive solution. So, this project has been challenging, often resulting in him staying late, and you know he wouldn’t change it. Even on the nights where he doesn’t get home until it’s nearly time for bed. 

Tonight, you’re trying to do something a little bit nice for him. It’s been days on end, even some weekends, of him busting his ass on this project. And you don’t understand the words he’s using. Haven’t ever really been tech savvy enough to get programming. What you do know, though, is that he’s been surviving on too much caffeine and food delivery. Sometimes he does listen and order from healthier places. Sometimes it’s all he can do to remember to eat at all, so it’s whatever can get to him fastest. But, he seemed pretty confident that he would be out of work at a decent time tonight. You decide to use your key to his place and let yourself in to surprise him with a great home-cooked meal.

For someone that doesn’t really like cooking that much, Jihoon has a pretty well-stocked kitchen. Although, knowing how considerate he is, that’s probably mostly because you liked to cook at his place and complained about all the things he didn’t have. All you need to do is show up with your ingredients. You decide on a menu of comforting foods that also can either keep warm on the stove or be easily warmed up without losing flavor. 

You figure that you should let him know that you’re going to be there when he gets home so it doesn’t surprise him. The food can be the surprise even if he knows you’re there waiting for him. He seems excited to see you when you text him. When the food is all ready, you figure that you can have a glass of wine while you wait. 

Jihoon: i’m so sorry, this is taking longer than i thought to wrap up

You: that’s fine, take your time

It’s not uncommon for Jihoon to send a text like that when he’s in the middle of a project. He hates it and you know he does. But, you also assure him that it’s fine. You didn’t have any actual plans and he doesn’t need to rush through work on your account. 

While you’re waiting, you decide on a little taste test of the food you made, careful not to make it too obvious that you’ve had some. Not that he would care, you just want the presentation to be nice for Jihoon. With some good food and a glass of wine down, you’re a little sleepy. Cooking can do that to you. There’s no harm, you figure, in getting comfortable on the couch while you wait and putting on some background noise. 

You don’t even realize that you drift off until you feel someone’s arms sliding underneath you. Your eyes flitter open and land on Jihoon. He’s got his shaggy hair pulled back into an elastic with strands falling out from the length of the day. His face is soft with nothing more than complete love and adoration. It’s so clear that he doesn’t want to disturb you and that makes your heart constrict further. This man has been working for who knows how many hours and he’s still taking care of you.

“I’m awake, babe,” you say through a slightly groggy voice.

“Sorry, was trying not to wake you up,” he says and pulls his arms back.

You catch one of his hands to pull him back in for a quick kiss. “I’m glad I woke up.”

“The place smells really good,” he comments.

“Yeah, I made dinner,” you say.

His face brightens for a moment and it makes you nearly melt. “I would’ve left sooner if I’d known.” 

“It’s a surprise, you goober,” you say with a smile. You pull yourself into a sitting position.

“Hey, it’s fine, I can get a plate,” he says.

“No, no. You go have a nice shower and by the time you’re out, I’ll have it all ready,” you say and get to your feet.

“You don’t have to…” he starts and you press another kiss to his lips before turning him in the direction of the bathroom.

“Go,” you say.

It takes a minute to shake off the cobwebs from your unexpected nap. By the time you’re in the kitchen and warming everything back up, you can hear the water running in the bathroom and the music audible even over the sound of the shower. It sounds like one of his more upbeat playlists, which is a good thing. Even if he doesn’t say much, you can always tell his mood by what playlist he puts on. Tonight, it seems like he’s in a good mood despite the long day at work. Part of you hopes that you surprising him adds to the good mood. 

The water shuts off, leaving only the playlist as your background and you know you still have a little bit of time before he emerges. So, it’ll be perfect timing as nearly everything is ready again. You’re putting a plate together when he emerges from his bedroom in gym shorts and a t-shirt, wet hair still falling around his face. The smile on your face is instant.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re just beautiful,” you say, smile still bright.

“I must look exhausted,” he brushes off.

“Still beautiful,” you insist and delight in the way blush creeps up his neck. To save him from saying anything, you hand over a plate.

“Can’t believe you did this,” he mumbles softly.

“I thought you deserved a treat,” you say as you grab your own plate. 

“Just having you here is a treat,” he says, unusually sappy with you.

“So you don’t want the rest of the post-dinner treats I planned?” you ask innocently. 

“Didn’t say that,” he says, locking eyes with you.

“How early do you have to be in tomorrow?” you ask. 

“I have the day off,” he says.

“Don’t get too full, then. I’ve got plenty of surprises for you,” you say. 

hope you enjoyed it! let me know 💕

[zaceouiswriting]

More than one surprise

Character: Theo Raeken x male (brother) reader

Universe: Somewhere in Teen Wolf

Warnings: Mentioned smut, implied incestuous behavior

Although it is customary to open my little brother's door without knocking - ever since he started doing it when he was eight years old - nothing out of the ordinary has ever happened. But today it offered me an unforgettable sight.

“What are you doing, bud?” My voice makes Theo jump and sit up in an instant.

“Can't you knock?” He replies angrily. Rightfully so.

I smirk shamelessly at him, savoring the moment of his embarrassment. “You taught me that knocking is unnecessary,” I tell him sarcastically as I take a sip from my coffee mug. "Anyway. I just wanted to- wait, is that my underwear?" Looking closer at his hand, I could see the baby blue of my Calvin Klein underwear - I had worn the day before and had already thrown in the laundry basket. Theo's eyes widen as his gaze shifts to where I'm looking. When our eyes meet again a second later, I can't suppress a wide grin. "You can keep it. I don't think I want it anymore."

Theo's face turns red; he is obviously embarrassed by the situation, but who am I to care? If he wants to be thirsty for me, he can do that. 

I leisurely sip my morning coffee. My mind is barely there, even though I've been awake for hours, casting my mischievous, glistening eyes over the rim of my mug so I wouldn't have to take my eyes off my not-so-little brother. He looks good - much better than I did at his age. His biceps, which he flexes involuntarily, were big enough to choke someone. His broad shoulders and large pecs make him look more like a man to me than the boy I always saw him as.

“You know, I thought you would be smaller. I mean, much smaller. That thing is almost inappropriately large. What the hell did you eat?" I grin from ear to ear as I see his hand searching for something to throw, which gives me more than enough time to get the door in front of me for safety. And not a second too late, as just as the door blocks my sight, a pillow, deflected by it, falls to the floor. “I just came to tell you breakfast is ready, dude. So when you’re done choking out your juices, come downstairs.”

I've just finished speaking when I can see yet another object flying in my direction. However, before it can hit me, just like before, I use the door to block it, but this time I slam the door shut, whereupon I start to laugh. The situation is just too amusing. Other men would have knocked Theo's teeth out for doing something like that - jerking off to someone else's underwear. But I always knew how he felt about me.

Theo was never good at hiding his feelings. I like to spoil him sometimes, cuddle with him, sleep in the same bed together, and hug him wherever we are. But I never thought about going as far as he wanted. Although I have to admit that the sight of him made my pants feel pretty tight.

In the middle of the hallway, not far from Theo's room - My little brother's bedroom, which he had lived in since he was a baby - I realized something. Heat rushes to my face. I can feel my resolve crumbling. Quickly, I go to my room to grab something before heading back downstairs to wait for my thirsty brother to get himself some breakfast.

It has taken him almost half an hour for Theo to appear, even though it's summer, he's wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie that hides most of his body. As soon as he sees me, his gaze turns to the ground. He tries stealthily to grab some food so he can safely flee upstairs to avoid this situation, but I grab his wrist faster than he can react. Without mercy, I force him to sit down. With my hands firmly on his shoulders, I hold him there until I know he won't try to escape again. As always, there is resistance. To his detriment, however, I was always more stubborn than he could ever wish.

After a few failed attempts, he relaxes his shoulders, a sign of his surrender. With a satisfied grunt, I sit back down and stare at him.

“Are you still thirsty for your older brother?” I ask him neutrally so as not to make it too uncomfortable. But we had to talk about it somehow.

“Bro, don’t. It’s embarrassing enough that you saw me like that!”

I wave him off, amused. “Dude, I’ve seen you jerk off many times. I don't mean to kink or love shame you. It works in mysterious ways. But are you sure you don’t want to try to find someone else?”

“I tried, okay? I really did, but whenever it comes to... you know. I can't get hard. I always want to smell you, feel your hands on me, and feel your intense gaze when I spill my seed. I just can’t help it, okay?”

I swear to God, if I hadn't finished my coffee by now, I would have definitely choked on it to death. I've gotten many confessions of love over, but this one was dirtier than my underwear he smelled.

“Don't worry, dude; I understand. After all, you have grown to be a fine young man,” I tell him teasingly.

"Fuck!" he mutters, his face contorted with anger. "It's because of shit like this! Right now, I want nothing more than to bend you over this table and show you what you're doing to me. But it’s wrong, and I know it. We are brothers, after all.”

"So? I can't get pregnant, and neither can you." I smile mischievously at him. It's easy to incite him. As always, it works like a charm.

He swallows hard, his gaze jumping from my lips to my eyes and further down. If I wanted to, I knew I could get him to agree to anything at that moment. So I decided to put my plan into action. I tossed him a small gift and raised my eyebrow challengingly.

"What's that?" he asks, confused, visibly unsure whether he should take it or not.

"It's something I bought for someone else, but we don't see each other anymore, so maybe you would like it." I couldn't help but grin, as I was pretty sure he wouldn't just like it but love it instead.

But before he can unpack it, I jump up, walk towards him, and ruffle his wild bed hair, whereupon I almost storm straight into my bedroom. My heart beats so loudly that I can feel the pounding in my ears. It isn't a pleasant feeling, but somehow it turns me on.

[Masterlist]

[ickadori]

thinking about nanami as a step-dad to your kid…

[cws] fem reader -> reader is a mom. suggestive.

-

Nanami stepped into the role very easily, despite thinking he wouldn’t. He wasn’t ignorant to the fact that some people saw him as a sort of custodial figure, Itadori and Ino specifically, but they were both well and grown now, and your kid was…well, a kid.

Your son was only just getting out of diapers, and still refusing to give up his pacifier. Nanami was an only child and he had never known anyone with children, so his experience with toddlers was nonexistent, but you had been patient with him as you showed him the ropes.

Diaper changes that morphed into helping him on the potty, warming of bottles that morphed into trying to discern what food he was willing to eat that day, rocking to sleep that morphed into the reading of bedtime stories and the ritual of checking the closet and underneath the bed for monsters.

He had eagerly learned it all from you, even going beyond and researching a few things on his own - things that had always stumped you and left you frustrated. Like when your son had refused to eat anything but plain waffles for two days straight and you were sure he was going to develop some kind of deficiency - he didn’t, and all it took was Nanami cooking all his (and yours) favorite foods for the boy to finally crack and start eating.

Or when he had went through a phase of ripping his diaper off and running around the house nude - that hadn’t been fun for anyone. You had been at your wits end, overwhelmed and teary-eyed as you watched the mayhem unfold, and Nanami had stepped in easily enough with a firm voice and even firmer look and that issue hadn’t happened again since.

He found himself doing that a lot - being the firm one. You could never bring yourself to be but so firm with him, always crying to Nanami about how ‘sad he had looked, Kento! I feel like an evil mother!’. He tried to assure you that telling your son no, he couldn’t climb onto the dinner table and belly flop onto the floor didn’t make you an ‘evil mother’, but he didn’t particularly mind dabbing your tears away and placating you with kisses.

Nanami was the one to enforce bedtimes, the one to keep him from drawing on the walls and furniture, the one to make him clean up his mess after a tantrum, the one that had to carry him kicking and screaming out of stores because of a candy bar that wasn’t bought…

~

“I think he missed you, Kento.” You speak in a hushed tone as you curl into his side, fingers mindlessly toying with the blonde hairs on his chest. He gives you an unbelieving look, hand moving to rub at your knee, your leg thrown on his hips. “Really, I do! He was so fussy this week while you were away, I couldn’t even get him to calm down with bath time.”

He hums, recalling just how eager your son had been to point at the front door and stomp his foot when he saw Nanami dressed and ready to go. It had been cute, a tad offensive as well, but cute nonetheless.

“How’d you get him to nap?”

“I used that trick you taught me. The one where you rub your finger between his eyebrows,” you demonstrated on Nanami, finger smoothing out the crease that had settled between his brows, “and play in his hair.” You combed your fingers through blonde locks, and Nanami relaxed further into the bed. “He was out in five minutes.”

He quirks a brow.

“More like thirty but who’s counting, y’know? He’s sleep and that’s all that matters.” Nanami lets a tired, amused grin curl onto his lips.

“How long has he been sleep?” The hand that had been rubbing at your knee slides a bit further up your leg, fingers now kneading into the fat of your thigh.

“Mm, maybe an hour? He shouldn’t be up for another hour at least… plenty of time for me to show you just how much I missed you.” Your lips meet the underside of his chin, and he tilts his head up and to the side, allowing you to trail kisses down his throat. “Did you miss me too, Ken?”

“More than I’d like to admit.” He tugs you onto his lap so you’re straddling him, hands immediately moving to palm at your ass through your shorts. “I already let the office know that I won’t be available for anymore overseas trips due to family matters.” Your eyes sparkle at his words.

“Family matters?” You repeat, hands splayed across his chest as you begin to rock your hips down against him. His jaw clenches at the feeling, arousal pooling in his gut and warming his skin.

“Yes, family matt—” Your lips are on his before he can finish his sentence, and he has no complaints, easily opening his mouth so your tongue can venture inside. His hands help you rock back and forth on top of him, his own hips occasionally bucking up into you.

A creak sounds just outside the bedroom door and Nanami pauses, lips going still against yours as he strains to hear. “Honey,” he calls, mouth breaking away from yours.

“Yes, Ken?” You breathe out as you sit up, your full weight now weighing down on his heavy, aching cock. “What’s wrong?” You take his hand and guide it underneath your shirt, his rough palms meeting soft, supple skin. He groans low in his throat when he reaches your breast, thumb smoothing over a puckered nipple. “I thought you missed me?”

“I did—fuck, I did.” He traps your nipple between the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger, pulling a soft cry from you, and his mouth runs dry at the sound. “But—”

“But what, Ken?”

Creak.

The both of you hear it this time and pause, heads turning to the cracked bedroom door. You scramble off of him in a flash, his hand slipping from underneath your shirt as he sits up in the bed to place a pillow over his lap while you straighten your clothes.

A sleepy ‘mama’ sounds, and you’re on your feet in the next second, hushes already leaving your mouth as you pull the door open to reveal a sleepy-eyed toddler. Your son has his signature blanket clutched in one arm, and his pacifier hanging from the clip on his pajama top.

You scoop him up into your arms as you gently bounce him, and Nanami smiles at the sight. “Did you have a good nap, sweetie? You want mommy to make you a snack—”

“Nana!” He suddenly shouts, gaze finally falling on Nanami, and all the sleep that had been in his face melts away. “Nana!”

“Nanami? Yeah, he just came—oh.” You hurry to set him down on his feet as he struggles in your grip, and he wastes no time dashing to the bed and clambering up onto it and launching himself into Nanami’s chest.

He catches him easy, arms closing around him as the both of you share a look of surprise. He ruffles his hair and pats his back, and your son squeals out a laugh as he pulls back to place his hand against Nanami’s face.

“Nana stay? Nana stay home?” You climb back into bed beside him, head moving to rest on his shoulder.

“Yes, I’m going to stay. I’m not going anywhere.” He assures, and your son’s face crumbles as he lets out a cry. You pout from beside him, and Nanami rubs his back and guides him to lay against his chest, a warm, fluttery feeling blooming inside.

“See?” You whisper in his ear. “I told you he missed you.”

[persevereforahappyending]

A Beacon in the Dark |1|

Pairing: Joey x Reader

Summary: Joey likes helping people, it's what she's best at. Hunting down the monsters of myth and legend might be the best way to save people.

Warnings: Slight spoilers from the movie

Word Count: 3.8k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1

“Let’s go!” Ana yelled from the kitchen. “You’re going to be late!”

“Coming!” Caleb called out. Not a second later he came stumbling out of his bedroom, struggling to get the strap of his backpack on his shoulder.

Ana sighed, quickly helping him straighten out his backpack. She handed him his breakfast burrito before ushering him out the door. They quietly walked down the street towards the middle school. She couldn’t afford the nicest apartment, but she was happy to get one within walking distance of Caleb’s school, especially considering she didn’t own a car.

She finally worked up the courage to say something to Caleb when he suddenly took off running. She looked up to see they had arrived at the school. “I’ll pick you up right here at three!” she called out.

“Okay!” Caleb called out, waving a hand back as he focused on meeting up with his friends.

“I-” she began to yell but her shoulders quickly slumped when she saw Caleb smiling and laughing with his friends, not bothering to look back at her. “Love you,” she whispered to herself.

She let out a shaky breath before digging in her pocket and pulling out a little sucker. Things were getting better, well, she wasn’t trying to survive a vampire trying to kill her, she was just trying to be a mom to her son which was a whole other struggle apparently. As soon as she left the mansion, she cleaned off all the blood and went to her son. Frank might have been an asshole, but he wasn’t wrong with what he said to her. She needed to stop making excuses, stop worrying about being a bad mom, she just needed to show up and be a mother to Caleb.

When she showed up on her ex’s doorstep he only scoffed, leaving the door open as he walked away. Ana hesitantly stepped into the apartment, taking a look around, the trash was full of takeout containers and beer bottles. Her ex wasn’t the best by any means, he drank too much and couldn’t usually hold down a job. It was hard for her to admit but he was still a better parent than she was, at least compared to who she was before. He might not have been an active part of Caleb’s life, but he still managed to be responsible enough to make sure Caleb had clothes to wear, food to eat, and that he got to school.

Well, that was putting it kindly, before Ana left Caleb with his father, she asked the nice lady across the hall to make sure Caleb was okay and to call if anything happened. The woman was sweet to everyone, she actually had her shit together, Ana wasn’t sure how many times she ended up so high she’d be late for getting Caleb from school and the woman would walk him home after picking up her own daughter.

The neighbor didn’t hold judgement in her eyes when Ana dropped Caleb off with his father, there was just disappointment. She’s been through a lot in her life but seeing a stranger look at her with disappointment because she couldn’t take care of her own son was the most painful thing in her life.

“Mom?” Caleb had asked. She had been in the apartment less than a minute and was already turning to face her son.

Ana opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Hi,” she finally settled on. “I-I’m back,” she gave him an awkward smile. Caleb didn’t say anything, he just gave her a sad smile and walked back to his room.

It took everything in Ana to not break right there. “I’m here to take him back,” she said, turning to her ex.

“Now you want him,” her ex scoffed. “Whatever, take him,” he gave a dismissive wave of his arm.

As Ana turned to go down the hall to Caleb’s room her ex spoke again, “I want him every other weekend.”

Ana slowly turned around meeting the stupid smirk of her ex. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. She didn’t want him to have anything to do with Caleb anymore, but she didn’t have a right to keep him from his son. As much as she wanted to, she knew if she tried to fight him, he could go the legal route and with her past, there was a chance she’d lose Caleb forever. Her ex might have been even more fucked up than her but on paper he came off a lot better.

Caleb didn’t argue when she asked him if he wanted to come live with her. He didn’t seem overly excited about that idea, but it seemed that he definitely didn’t mind leaving his dads. There was a part of Ana that thought Caleb probably thought he didn’t have a choice, that he was always going to be stuck doing whatever his screwed-up parents wanted. Ana was trying though, she wanted to prove to herself, but mostly to her son, that she could provide for him and offer him a good life, even if she was a little late.

She made sure to thank the neighbor that took care of Caleb before they left, offering to repay her. The lady refused to accept any form of payment and told her to ‘not fuck things up this time’ and Ana assured her that she wouldn’t. It also hurt the way Caleb ran up and hugged the woman as Ana took him away. Caleb hadn’t hugged her since before she left the first time, he hadn’t said I love you since then either.

It had been a couple of months since the whole incident with Abigail and since reuniting with her son. She had an apartment, she walked him to and from school every day. It took over a week for Caleb to begin talking to her, to finally ask her for something. It had been a small victory but a victory, nonetheless. Over the weeks they only got more and more comfortable with each other, Caleb seemed sad to go to his fathers every other weekend and would almost lighten up when he got home to Ana’s. He still didn’t fully open up to her, she heard about his classes and sometimes he’d mention his friends, but he didn’t provide her with too many details. She broke his heart and his trust when she left, she didn’t deserve his forgiveness, but she would work tirelessly to get back whatever he’d give.

“Ana Lucia Cruz?” She heard someone ask, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked around, realizing all the kids had gone inside but she was still outside the school.

She turned around, furrowing her brow when she saw you standing there. She had never seen you before, you didn’t look like you belonged there, your eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and you didn’t seem to be dropping a kid off either. “Who are you?” She asked.

“My names Y/N,” you held out your hand to her.

She kept her hands in her pockets, only sparing your outstretched hand a glance. “How do you know me and what do you want?”

You dropped your hand, tilting your head as you wore a small smirk on your face. “I’m here with a job opportunity.” Ana shook her head giving you an eye roll. “My boss thinks you’d fit in perfectly our…” your smirked deepened. “Particular line of work.”

She scoffed at that. “Not interested,” she brushed right past you, refusing to give you another second of her time.

“The pay’s good!” You called out but she could tell you hadn’t followed her.

She only bothered to give you a wave with the back of her hand. She almost flipped you off, but you weren’t being over barring, so she decided not to be rude. She didn’t care how good the money was, she didn’t care if she was struggling, she knew what you were asking, and she didn’t do that kind of work anymore.

“I’ll be at the diner two blocks over later tonight,” you shouted as she continued to walk away. She shook her head; you were persistent and rather arrogant it seemed. “Just in case you change your mind… Joey.”

Ana stopped dead in her tracks, her entire body froze at the simple code name. That had been her code name on the last job. Everyone who knew her by that name was dead, besides Abigail and her father, Lazar. When Ana turned around you were already gone, not a trace of you insight.

Ana quickly walked home, looking over her shoulder the entire time way, though she never caught sight of you again. The only way you could have known she was given the code name Joey during that job was if you were connected in some way. Abigail did say ‘see you around’ so there was a high probability you worked for her. There was also the chance you worked for her father, Lazar hadn’t exactly wanted to let her go, maybe sending you was a way to keep an eye on her. There was also the smallest chance you worked for Lambert, and you knew about the job before and with everyone else dead you were coming to Ana now.

The only thing Ana was sure of was that you weren’t a vampire. You had approached her outside, in the middle of the day, though you wore sunglasses that wasn’t exactly the most uncommon thing in the world. You also approached her right outside her son's school, right after she had dropped him off, meaning you had been watching her before you decided to approach.

When she got back to her apartment, she instantly plopped herself down on the couch, like she always did now after dropping Caleb off. She opened up her laptop, going straight to her email like she has every day since her last job. The first thing her eyes saw was the little blue dots showing all her unread emails, each email started with ‘we’re sorry’ or ‘unfortunately’ a few even had ‘application has been rejected’. She let out a tired sigh as she began going through all the rejection emails.

She was trying to go straight. No hospital wanted to hire her with her military record. Despite her years of exemplary service, it only took one mistake, one huge mistake. She couldn’t even get a job at the pharmacy in Walgreens or even at a coroner's office. Her only options were seeming to be an at home caretaker, which she’d rather not, she wanted more consistent hours to be able to spend more time with Caleb. That left her with a standard minimum wage job, food service, retail, maybe she’d be lucky, and she could get a job at a 911 call center or something, at least she could be helping people there.

After getting through all the emails she went job hunting again. She spent the hours while Caleb was at school like she did every day, scrolling and clicking for job post after job post, applying for everything she qualified for and all the ones she was overqualified for. She knew they’d come back the same as all the others with a big ‘REJECTED’ at the top of each application. She didn’t technically have a criminal record; she had never actually been caught doing any of her various jobs over the years but stealing drugs from the military was a way to be instantly blacklisted from any legitimate establishment. She was hoping if she applied to enough places, if she wasn’t picky, then someone would take a chance on her, and she could prove herself. She didn’t care what it was, she would start at the bottom and work her way up again if that’s what it took to give Caleb a better life and become the mother that he deserved.

A loud beeping made Ana nearly jump off the couch. She looked around until her eyes finally landed on her phone, where her alarm was going off. “Shit,” she mumbled. She quickly turned off the alarm and ran a hand through her hair before making her way out the door again, it was already time to get Caleb.

She got to Caleb’s school a few minutes before they let out. She set an alarm every day so she wouldn’t forget when she got caught up with something. She got there early in case anything ever delayed her, she never wanted Caleb to walk out of school and think she abandoned him, again.

With where she was waiting, she had the perfect view of the glowing sign for the diner at the corner just two blocks away. It was a restaurant that had been around forever, open 24 hours 7 days a week, it was where you said you’d be waiting. A part of her wondered if you were there now, waiting for her to show up. It annoyed Ana like no other that you said you’d be there that night, as if you expected her to change her mind.

“Mom?” Caleb’s voice came, cutting through Ana’s thoughts.

“Sorry,” Ana said, smiling down at Caleb, who managed to offer her a small smile in return. “Ready?” Caleb only nodded.

The rest of the night went on like all the others, Ana walked Caleb home, she made dinner, and sat next to him as he did his homework. She wanted to be available to help with his homework if needed, though he never asked. After Caleb finished his homework, he went off to his room to play video games and talk to his friends while Ana stayed in the living room. She usually took the rest of the night to apply for a few more jobs.

When she opened up her laptop again, she saw she had already heard back from several of the jobs she applied to earlier, all of them rejections. She slammed her laptop closed a little harder than she meant to, burying her head in her hands as she gripped her hair tightly. She had money stashed away from previous jobs, she opted to save most and get a cheaper apartment, that way she could have it for an emergency or preferably for Caleb to go to college if he wanted, even if that was still around six years away. She picked up the occasional job from her previous line of work, small stuff, such as removing a bullet or stitching up a knife wound. She was trying to go straight, she only accepted simple jobs to continue getting by, but once she found something legit, she would get out of the life fully.

Ana shot up from the couch, quickly walking down the hall to Caleb’s room. She cracked open the door, peeking her head in to see Caleb sprawled out on his bed, half hanging off but completely passed out. She closed the door as quietly as she could, then made her way back to the kitchen. She slid open one of the drawers, reaching in and feeling around the top until she felt the cool metal of her gun. She pulled it out and looked it over before grabbing a clip; after making sure it was full she inserted into the gun and slipped it into her waistband, making sure to hide it with her shirt.

She scribbled a quick note, sticking it on the counter in case Caleb happened to wake up before she got back. She didn’t bother lying, writing that she was simply going to the diner a couple blocks from his school. It was probably a bad idea, she was trying to get out of her previous life, and if you were connected to Abigail or her father in any way, you’d surely be dragging her right back in. It didn’t seem she had any other option though, she needed to at least hear you out and if things went sideways at least she could shoot you.

After a quick walk, Ana pushed open the door of the diner, the little bell at top jingling as she did so. “Welcome in,” one of the girls behind the counter greeted, not looking up as she wrote something on her notepad. “Sit wherever you’d like.”

Ana did a quick scan of the diner; it seemed the only staff was the woman at the counter and the man in the back cooking. The diner wasn’t busy, just a guy at the counter, who seemed to be a trucker based on his hat and the way he was downing a cup of coffee and a few more people scattered, all seeming to be minding their own business, all exhausted from the long day of work. Then there was you, sitting in the far corner of the diner, in a booth, giving you a complete visual of the place and the front door, still wearing your sunglasses.

Ana put on her work face before making her way over to you. The only move you made was to bring the cup of coffee in your hand to your lips. Ana dropped into the booth, sitting across from you. She kept her face neutral as you continued to not say a word, enjoying the long sip of your coffee. “You came,” you said, setting your cup down.

Ana tilted her head, not missing the slight smirk on your face. “I’m leaving,” she said, she could feel the arrogance radiating off you and she wasn’t dealing with that again.

Ana was halfway out of the booth when you spoke again, “Aren’t you curious how I know about you, Joey?”

Ana froze, half in the booth, half out of it, you said that name again. She clenched her jaw before slipping back into her seat. “Who sent you?” she demanded.

“My boss,” you said as if it was obvious. “I told you; they want to offer you a job.”

“Who’s your boss, Lazar?” You only scoffed at that. “Abigail?” Your smirk got bigger. “Lambert?” She raised an eyebrow; she was running out of people who you might work for. You only rolled your eyes at his name. “Then who?”

“Can’t say yet, they prefer their digression, I’m sure you understand.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m done with that life, I’m going straight.”

“How’s that working out for you?” You leaned forward, resting your arms on the table.

Ana only glared at you, she should just walk out of the diner, she didn’t need whatever mess you’d surely bring into her life. “The job I want you for is not what you think,” you said, ending her debate about leaving.

“It’s not something illegal?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. There was no way you knew anything about what happened on her last job without you being involved in similar activities.

You bobbed your head back and forth. “We’re not exactly above board.”

She knew it. Ana nodded and then moved to stand again, she just needed to get out of there as quick as possible. “Wait,” you said, reaching across the table. Your fingers only grazed her arm before she was back in the booth, this time pointing her gun at you from under the table.

“Easy,” you said, slowly taking your hand off her. She knew you had heard the click of the gun. “Let’s not cause a scene.”

“Then let me leave,” Ana said.

“Just hear me out,” you slipped off your sunglasses, raising your hands in surrender.

Ana studied you for a moment, you were calm, much calmer than someone should be, considering she had a gun pointed at you. “You have two minutes.”

“There is another world within our own,” you lost your smirk and had gotten serious. “One full of monsters, which you’ve seen firsthand.” Ana shifted in her seat; her eyes remained unblinking as she watched you. “You survived; you have the skills my boss is looking for to help others.”

“Others?”

You shifted in your seat to lean across the table. Ana’s entire body tensed for a moment, but she leaned closer when you gestured for her to. “There’s a lot more out there than just vampires,” you whispered into her ear.

Ana’s eyes went wide as she moved away from you, leaning back against the seat. “How do you know about that?”

“My boss does their research, this is what they do, they search and scour, listening for unusual reports,” you glanced around as you talked quiet enough for no one to overhear. “Looking for people that get caught up in something they never should have.”

“And you, what, save them?” Ana let out a little scoff. The idea of someone going around and fighting creatures of the supernatural world seemed rather ridiculous.

“We try to, sometimes we’re to late.” Your eyes dropped to the table. “The overall goal is to stop these monsters from continuing to hurt people.”

“So, why me?” Ana gestured with her hand that wasn’t holding the gun, slumping back in the booth.

“Because you survived,” you looked up, emphasizing the last word. “The only ones who understand what we’re up against is the ones who have already survived it.”

“Your boss has been through this?” Ana’s eyes widened.

“Not vampires but she’s certainly been through something similar.”

“And you?”

For the first time since Ana walked into the diner, she saw your entire body tense up. It was only for a second before you leaned back, trying to make yourself look more relaxed. “We all have a history,” is all you said.

“So, what do you want me for?” Ana relaxed her hand that had the gun, she was considering no longer shooting you.

“To offer you a job,” you said again. “It’s not conventional, there might be some slight law breaking,” you gave a little shrug. “But we’ll be doing good, stopping very bad people from hurting innocents. Look, just meet with my boss, she can explain it better.”

Ana tapped her fingers on the table as she took in everything you said. She wasn’t getting a normal job, despite what she would like. What you were offering sounded to good to be true, but she did witness the world you were talking about herself, she knew vampires were out there now. If you were telling the truth, then joining you would allow her to truly help people.

“When would this meeting be?” she asked. Your eyes instantly lit up, leaning forward excitedly as you opened your mouth to answer. “I’m not committing to anything yet,” she held up a finger, giving you a pointed look.

“Of course,” you said. “Tomorrow? I can take you to her after you drop your son off at school, you’ll be back before he gets out.”

Ana let out a long sigh, she still didn’t like the fact that you knew where her son went to school. “Okay.” There was no harm in a meeting after all and if things went sideways, she could still always shoot you.

[calaisreno]

Let Me Have This

1554 words / Prompt: Do-Over

She’s determined to take it all away from him. Every damn thing. All the little things. 

He wonders why he didn’t notice it happening. The little smirks when she reads his blog. The comments when he mentions Sherlock, insignificant but biting. It’s been systematic, and he’s let it happen. 

None of it seemed worth arguing about. When he met her, he’d already mourned and tried so many times to put it away, to think of it as something that he would endure. Something terrible, but that’s how life is, the good and the bad, and you still have to go on living. He survived.

So he hadn’t argued; that would have taken too much energy, and he never had enough of that in those days. 

She’d been wonderful, really, at the beginning. She’d gone to the grave with him, stood by him, let him mourn. She’d been patient, lovingly patient, urging him back into life. 

“Are you never going to eat Thai food again?” she would ask. 

Or: “Why do you keep this old jumper with the burn holes? It’s unwearable.” 

Or: “We don’t need to take the newspaper. You can read it online.”

And gradually, she had replaced every damn thing with a new thing. New jumpers, Korean food. A different brand of tea. Romantic films. Different news programs. 

Even his old, stained mug. “It was chipped,” she said.

None of it was unreasonable, taken as individual actions. But all together it made his old life seem flawed, as if he hadn’t done anything right until he met her. 

He did notice. But he’d thought she was something good in his life, a new beginning, a person who knew what she wanted. It was flattering to be pursued. 

Every relationship requires a partner who gives in, who is the more reasonable one, the one who lets things go. He saw that in his parents, his mother headstrong and insistent, his father calm and accepting. Yes, dear.

That was how they were, before. Sherlock led, John followed. Sherlock had strops and broke crockery and said awful things sometimes, and John smoothed it all over. Or when he finally couldn’t, he would have his own strop, tell Sherlock to stop— 

You machine. 

He hadn’t seen that coming, either. His role was reining Sherlock in, pulling him back from the edge. That’s what he’d thought was happening. As it turns out, he was wrong. 

Maybe that’s why he can’t be the one to say, Stop it. Let me have this.

He doesn’t deserve a life now because he didn’t protect Sherlock when it really mattered. He let him go over the edge, fall—

Mary is a do-over. He was punishing himself, and she appeared, offering him a chance at something better. Letting himself be loved, cared for. She’s competent, not nostalgic. 

It’s an insidious trap, a carefully laid one. Where she could have let him mourn, let him remember who he was when he loved Sherlock— she has tried to reshape all his memories. Sherlock was a child, she seems to say; you were a fool to make yourself responsible for him. He had you under his thumb because he really was a sociopath. He didn’t care about you. He didn’t love you. I’m the best thing that could have happened to you.

And now, she’s taken the last thing. 

I like him. She said that in the cab, coming home. Home, to the flat she picked out and decorated, where there isn’t even one tiny piece of John Watson. 

She’d seen his anger, his grief. She’d been outraged, on his behalf. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him? His anger was right. She’d affirmed it.

But afterwards she smiled like the cat who got the cream. As if it had all gone according to plan. She likes Sherlock. She’s going to talk him around. And once again, John will be the unreasonable one. 

And he sees how it will go. She’ll take credit for bringing them back together. It will be the three of them now. And of the two of them, Sherlock will find Mary the more interesting one, the one who really gets him. They will bond, and John will be the one they joke about. The third wheel. Poor John. He can see her tagging along on cases, texting Sherlock, giggling with him about private jokes. 

She’ll let him have Sherlock, as long as it’s clear that she owns John now. 

Let me have this. 

If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it back. He’s going to have to say no to Mary, if he wants Sherlock back. He’s still angry, but now that he sees what’s happening, he can’t unsee it. He’ll never be happy in the life she’s prepared for him, free from all the clutter and disarray of life with Sherlock. She’ll keep him in their tidy flat and let him out to go play with Sherlock. And if he ever starts to crave that life again, she’ll find a way to separate him from it. 

It’s after midnight and he’s standing outside of 221B. He’s already mentally rehearsed several versions of an apology when his phone buzzes. 

Are you coming up? SH

He smiles. 

Oscillation on the pavement. An affaire de coeur? SH

Sherlock still signs his texts, and this is oddly comforting. At least something hasn’t changed. 

Climbing the stairs, he thinks about the last time he went out and closed the door behind him, never to return. He’s been back once to see Mrs Hudson, but never up these stairs. 

The door is open, and he stands on the threshold, taking in everything that two years haven’t changed. The flat looks just as it did on the last day he stood here. It’s like time travel. 

But he’s still Future John, the one who grieved, who hit his best friend when he returned as John had begged him to do. The one with regrets.

And Sherlock is different too. He stands at the window, looking down at the street as if he’s expecting someone. His posture is taut, careful.

“I hope… I’m not intruding.”

Sherlock turns and faces him. The split lip has healed, but there is caution in those grey eyes. John never wants to see that look again, not directed at him. 

“Come in, John.”

He does, glancing at his old chair, then staring at his own feet, words having deserted him. Sherlock gestures for him to sit, but he feels like a guest in what used to be his home, and it’s painful. He remains standing.

“Something is wrong,” Sherlock says. “You’ve quarrelled with Mary.”

“No.” He closes his eyes. “She’s fine. It’s me. I’ve made a mistake.”

Sherlock steps closer, cocking his head and silently deducing him. “A mistake?”

I’ve proposed to a woman I don’t know because I couldn’t go on without you. I hit my best friend because I couldn’t bear…

He looks up at Sherlock, tears filling his eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

The look on Sherlock’s face is surprise. “John, you need not apologise. If there is to be an apology, it should come from me. I should not have approached you as I did.”

“Can we… just…” He sniffs. “Could we pretend that the last few days haven’t happened yet? You’re back, and I’m—”

“You’re asking for… I believe it’s called a do over?”

He laughs through his tears. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

Sherlock smiles. “Where do we begin?”

“Let’s say I’m not at dinner, not proposing to Mary. You’re not wearing a silly fake moustache—”

“You’ve shaved yours off.”

“Yeah, you were right. So. I don’t have a moustache, and I’ve come over to have a look up here, because… I’m about to take a step that feels irrevocable, one I wouldn’t be taking if you were alive.”

Now Sherlock looks puzzled, but he doesn’t speak. 

“My therapist has been bugging me to say something… to you. Something I wished I’d said… before. And I couldn’t say after. But I need to say now.”

Lips parted, Sherlock is frowning. “Say… what?”

He closes his eyes. “You were the best. The best person I’ve known. The best friend. You saved my life, gave meaning to what was left of it. And I… I love you. I don’t care that you were married to your work, or that you despise sentiment. I love you, and I wish I’d said it before.”

Laying a hand on Sherlock’s heart, he feels it beating, alive. “I want to come back. Come home. Live with you.”

“But… Mary?”

“A mistake. And you’ve just given me the impossible. The thing I asked for. Please, will you forgive me?”

Sherlock is silent. He stares over John’s shoulder, blinking as if that genius brain has gone offline. 

“Sherlock?”

The pale eyes focus on him. “You want to come home? Here? You love me?”

“Yes. I know you don’t—”

“Just to be clear, when you say love —”

John puts his arms around him. “This.”

As he looks up, expecting to see Sherlock frowning, the most extraordinary thing happens. 

There are tears in Sherlock’s eyes, and he’s about to—

When the kiss ends, Sherlock holds him pressed against his chest. “Just to be clear,” he says. “I love you too.”

--

Posted on AO3 here.

[mikimakiboo]

Ya'll heard of disabled!Nightmare but may I interest you with some mute!Horror (And additionnal headcanons) ?

@unknownchoatic if you want to take a look into my interpretation of the disabled AU 👀👉🏻👈🏻

Horror isn't totally mute, it's more like aphasia than mutism, which means he has trouble speaking and finding the right words and is practically incapable of forming a full sentence, he also has trouble reading and, by extent, writing.

He became aphasic after Undyne's spear impaled his skull, which obviously caused a lot of brain damage and particularly in the area in charge of the speech, reading and all.

When he joined the bad sanses nobody noticed his struggles at first, they already had Dust who didn't talk much (he isn't mute, just doesn't talk a lot) so they thought he was just the silent type like him. But it soon became clear there was a broblem when he started mixing up words whenever he tried to speak, couldn't decipher written instructions or struggled to write his reports.

However they first thought that maybe he didn't know how to read/write, but it wasn't logical as he was still a Sans, so that meant he was a scientific in his youth, that he must have known how to read and write, so the problem might have been something else entirely.

Surprisingly it was Killer who came up with the first hypothesis, one of which was that Horror was dyslexic, which was close, but not quite that. After some time and researches they eventually managed to find out he was aphasic.

As for the instructions, Nightmare gave him a magnetophone so he can hear them rather than read them. For the reports it's usually Killer or Dust who write them for him, he signs what he wants them to write and they translate.

At that point Dust took the responsibility to teach everyone sign language, since he was the only one knowing it at the time, so that Horror could communicate easier and the others would understand him. He still has troubles sometimes with hand placement but he can now communicate !

On the fluffy side, they sometimes read him stories since he cannot read them himself.

Now for the additionnal headcanons that have nothing to do with disability:

- he likes woodcarving, he often sculpts little animals and give them to each member of the gang (including Nightmare) to show his affection towards them, they are very pretty !

- he cannot see pictures in his mind, I don't know how to describe it but like when he thinks about an apple, for exemple, he doesn't see an apple in his mind, he has the concept, the word, he knows what it looks like and can describe it but he just doesn't visualize it. Same when he sleeps, his dreams are made of sounds and sometimes shades of lights, but no images

- his pupil will round up like a cat when he sees something or someone he likes

- he's very strong physically but very weak when it comes to magic because his magic had to adapt in his world in order to keep him alive, he has a strong immune system due to that but struggles a lot with magic attacks such as creating bones, blasters or simply teleporting, that is why he mainly uses his axe. Also due to his weak magic he needs to have a balance between food and sleep, if he doesn't sleep or eat properly he will pass out and won't wake up until his body regained enough energy, sometimes it's only a few hours but if he pushed his limits too far it can last a few days

[viking-chaos]

I genuinely don't know what this is. I just had to get it out. It hasn't been proofread or anything, and it was typed in my phone, so there are probably a lot of mistakes. I mostly just needed to get back into the swing of writing, so yeah, this is what it is.

Failed Hunt

Warnings: I don't think there is much. Mostly just some fluff, very very mild sexual content. Some mild language. That's it.

Summery: Just you and Sihtric messing up a hunt. Why can't this be my life??? 😫😫😫😫

I don't really have a taglist, so I'm just going to tag my Sihtric moots, and if you want to be added or removed, just send a message: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @thenameswinter99 @solinarimoon @foxyanon

Oh, why had you agreed to this hunt? Why, when there were so many things that could go wrong. And it seemed, in one day, the one day you decided to take up your husband's offer to join him in his hunt, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong.

You could be at home, warm, safe, cooking whatever you bought from the butchers, instead of here in the middle of nowhere, freezing your arse off, with nothing to eat, nothing to bring home. Add to that, you were soaking wet, and not in a good way. Your husband had wandered off to gods knew where in search of food.

You poke at the near smouldering fire with a stick, hoping to coax it to life and warm you. A small part of you imagined it was your idiot husband you were poking. He deserved it for dragging you out here.

The day had started perfectly. You had woken up, safe and warm, in your bed with your husband. He kissed you tenderly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you were roused into wakefulness.

“Good morning,” he murmured as you snuggled into his muscled chest.

You mumbled something along the lines of “good morning Sihtric” back at him, although you were not quite awake enough to speak yet.

This morning would have been utter perfection, if it weren't for him reminding you of your promise.

“We are to hunt today, my love,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes and glared at him. He just chuckled at your expression.

It took some time for Sihtric to coax you out of bed, luring you with the promise of a nice hot bath at the end of the day, as well as a hearty meal of deer. You grumbled all while pulling on your clothes and preparing for a day in the woods.

Somehow, you convinced yourself that going on a hunt would not be such a bad thing. You would get to spend time in the open air with your husband. Perhaps, if you were good, he would make love to you on your return.

And Somehow, it all went wrong.

Well, not immediately.

As you left the toastyness of your shared home, you were almost happy you had agreed. It was fun sneaking out of Coccham so early in the morning before the sun had risen. You and Sihtric giggled like you did before you married, when you were still in that phase where you couldn't believe this handsome man had chosen you, of all people, to be his woman.

That was the end of the perfect morning.

It rained. Heavily.

It was not long before you were both soaked to the skin. At least, Sihtric seemed to still be enjoying himself, while your teeth chattered as the cold seeped to your bones.

“Sihtric!” you called as he scampered ahead. “Slow down!”

He paused for a moment, smiling from ear to ear. “Come on!” he beckoned, before continuing to bound further into the woods.

“Sihtric!”

You cried out as you tripped over a tree root, landing face first in a muddy puddle.

As you rose, coughing and spluttering, Sihtric howled with laughter.

You scowled at him, wiping mud from your face. He only laughed harder.

“Perhaps we should go back,” you said, glowering.

“Why should we when we are having fun?” he said jovially.

You threw some of the mud at him. “I am cold and tired, Sihtric. We haven't caught anything either!”

His smile faded, and he bundled you up in his damp furs.

“It is getting too late to find our way back,” he explained. “We will have to make camp. Luckily our bedrooms are still dry.”

And now here you sat, trying to coax the fire to life while waiting for Sihtric to return with some food.

By the time you finally got the fire going, the sound of your husband crashing through the trees announced his return. Tied to his belt were a few dead rabbits that he had successfully caught for your meal.

As the meat cooked, you peeled off your layers of damp cloths, leaving them hanging from low branches. You wrapped yourself in your bedroll, and sat in front of the fire, eating pieces of meat from your hunting knife.

“Are you alright?” Sihtric asked, breaking the silence between you. You gave him a glare in response. “I am sorry this hunting trip did not go well.” You said nothing, still glowering. “We will still have a warm bath when we get home?” he added hopefully.

You scoffed at ‘we’.

He hung his head in shame. You sighed, feeling pity for this handsome warrior who tried so hard.

“You can share my bedroll tonight to keep me warm,” you conceded, shaking your head and smiling.

Sihtric grinned and started stripping off his wet clothes, while you stared appreciatively.

He snuggled into the roll behind you, nuzzling and leaving soft kisses on your neck.

Exhaustion was quick to overtake you.

“My love?” Sihtric murmured just as started dozing off.

“Mmm?”

“Will I get to join the bath tomorrow?” he asked, subtly palming your breast.

“Take your hand off my tits and I'll think about it.”

[plasticfangtastic]

Cozy Corner Domaystic--Prompt: 3. Grocery Shopping, 18. Snow Day, 21. Road trip (sort of)

Charred Steak

A Butchlander fic

Sypnopsis: Butcher is in charge of taking care of Homelander.

Tags: Fluff?, non-canon anything, partially-depowered Homelander, depressive, one-shot, not proof read i die like this.

word count: 1.5k words

This is the forth time he’s heard this song on the radio, one can only tolerate the same country cover before been driven insane but is better than nothing, their car only had an old stereo and he rather not drive in silence with this company, they’ve arrived to their cabin and found it more than just barren, ordered to stay out of sight and hidden until further notice so it was just functional not comfortable but at least it'll do, the snow was piling up and the sun had begun to set-- all Butcher wanted was anything in his stomach and a drink to warm him up, then worry about tomorrow and the road.

Leaving the cargo behind he headed to the nearest town over an hour away, in normal circumstance he wouldn’t dare leave this guy alone but now he can’t go anywhere, he’s bound to the ground like any other sad sod in the world should-- or at least for the most part, but he’s not complaining he himself doesn’t want to do anything, he’s rotting away on his passenger seat or the floor, the most he’s spoken this whole drive to the middle of nowhere America had been to complain about the amount of ads on the radio then over this song.

But Butcher pays him no mind.

This drive is short compared to the last few days, the song just an annoying reminder.

The supermarket is a little small, but he can at least take a breather in aisle dillydalling as he reads the ingredients and cooking instructions, he was no gourmand much less Gordon Ramsey so he would eat anything.

Homelander much the same--he had no taste for food not eating much either, losing weight to a worrisome degree even his bosses had ordered him to feed him, so he stuffed the trolley with a decent variety of things in hopes he liked something, he ignored the ringing on his phones, too exhausted to deal with the rest of the boys after such a long drive, just wanting to get back and eat.

He picks two packs of steaks seeing which was the best deal, he should buy the cheapest chuck knowing Homelander doesn’t deserve anything but dollar store steak but he puts the T-Bone on the trolley nevertheless, he can’t really brush away the image of Homelander’s distraught, how dead he was, after all these days bound together Homelander feel more like a husk dressed and bleached than his archnemesis.

Reading his shopping list he got he milk, the hot cocoa, enough water for a month, he got the bread, butter, canned chili and beans, too many cans that at some point he’s unsure if they will eat it all, toilet paper, frozen vegs and lots of steak, he shouldn’t be buying candies... Homelander seemed to despise anything with fructose unless its coke.

But he still throws a few in there.

Butcher almost wishes the snow buries his car and leaves him stranded if that meant he can stay away from the blond.

But he makes it to the cabin, he looks up and sees no smoke.

He ran as if his life depended on it, his mind only remembers the Homelander of the past, he’s gone and he’s fucked.

The door slams open and he’s taunting the air with his gun but all there is a mess hovering a dwindling flame, wrapped in a blanket and shivering, his foot sticking out and blue.

“You’ll get hypothermia that way… don’t you know how to keep a fire going?”

Homelander doesn’t reply, his eyes yearn to light up but he’s just there immobile on the ground and if his head hadn’t move just a second prior he would had thought it was a corpse. 

Homelander doesn’t move when Butcher fixes the fireplace again, but he will pretend to not have noticed that the man squinted and smiled as the warmth enveloped him, he catchest that odd look in his eyes as he touches him to put that poor foot back inside the quilt.

Butcher does his things, putting things away wishing he would help or talk but all Homelander wants to do is sit by the fire like a cat.

“They said on the radio that the snow storm is only going to get worse… we will be stranded so if you want anything I didn’t get at the shops you better speak up now.”

Homelander says nothing.

“You… whatevah…”

Homelander doesn’t do anything, Butcher can fix their temporary residency for a couple days without protest.

He looks at his watch and realizes that Homelander hasn’t eaten or drank anything for hours, he looks at the man grunting as he forces himself to care for him, picking him up from the ground and finally earning a response from the man, he looks at Butcher wincing at him trying to push him away but while there is strength that doesn’t match those thin arms, he’s still weak.

Dragging him up, the man looks away from him-- he looks more angry than ashamed

“I’m gonna make dinner. Be useful and set the table.”

Homelander stood there as Butcher looks back at him and for some disturbing amount of time Homelander stood frozen, but without making a sound he floats and helps him out, he moves smoothly and quicker than most but not in a manner that seemed natural for him.

“Is that… good enough?” His voice is so dry, it hurts to listen, he nods for putting a table wasn’t rocket science– what are you making?”

Butcher grins surprised to hear the bastard wanting to chit-chat.

“Steak and veggies.” He says bluntly.

“Better than slim jims and whisky…” 

He sounds normal for a second which gets Butcher to turn around, he much rather listen to this version of him instead of the corpse tied to him.

“You got milk but no whisky… Did you forget?”

Butcher eyes light up in horror, the snow so thick outside he knows it probably not a good idea to travel anymore not at this hour.

“You did get slim jims…”

“Is better if I stay sober if am s’ppose to be stuck ‘ere with you until I get my next orders.”

Homelander smile is more somber than Butcher wants to witness-- he can tell he's bullshiting him so his hearing isn't all gone, this situation is dire but he still looks at the disheveled blonde with a bit of anxiety, his suit long gone replaced by dark coloured sweats, missing a sock and a beard that's gone from scratchy to scruffy, Homelander has been docile for the most part, Butcher becoming his nurse bathing him, washing his hair, shaving that god awful beard... he’s been comatose for weeks, waking up and being no different than a vegetable, moved from coast to coast away from Vought and their minions, Butcher has gotten uncomfortably familiar with Homelander, so when he acts alive its great but it annoys him.

It was weird for Homelander to talk or move this much these days-- Butcher almost gotten accustomed to the potato sack, he can't tell if Homelander will act out but Butcher has learned some tricks to keep him tame.

He lowers the flame letting the steak sizzle and crisp and the veggies boil without supervision for a moment, as he maneuvers around Homelander to take a pack of Werther’s candy from the pantry, Homelander watchest him closely as he rips the candy open.

“You've been a good boy. Haven't tried to run in a whole week… thought you deserved a treat”

“Twisted ankles hurt so much more than I expected it… simpler to break them… what’s the point of running if it’ll hurt afterwards... don't get me started on sore knees."

“You won’t run anymore, right?” Butcher teases Homelander, pressing the cream coloured candy in-between his fingers lifting it towards Homelander’s mouth– you’ll be a good sweet boy for daddy and stay right where I tell ya to stay, right?”

“Is not like I can leave you.” He looks out the window– is also snowing quite a bit… we both can’t leave each other either way."

“So you’ll be a good boy and behave?"

“yes, daddy” He says mockingly.

Butcher presses the creamy candy on the blond’s lip his tongue stretching and catching those calloused fingers, Butcher knows he shouldn’t get to know him more, he hates the bastard, but as the man suckles on his fingers, remembering bittersweet memories-- Homelander is so sensitive to the pain, so sensitive to everything else too... he'll do anything not to feel pain but something else.

It was wrong, it was sick but Butcher found it cathartic, more cathartic than the bruise on Homelander’s neck... now a sweet shade of olive, his mouth watered at the thought of being trapped together.

Homelander smiled crushing the candy as Butcher’s fingers escape those sharp toothers, still sharp enough to rip bone clean, he knows well... he got the stiches to remind him.

“I don’t like well-done steak.”

“Youse get what you get.”

“You don’t like well-done either.”

“Fuck.”

The snow piles up, Butcher and Homelander eat in silence, the snow piles up outside, and the two stare at their plates in awkward silence.

Butcher smiles just a tad as the man can only muster a sizzle on the meat.

“See you do like it well-done, luv.”

“Gives it some flavor… you forgot to season it.”

“Butter and salt is enough.”

“Your people colonized the whole world for spices—

“Shut up and eat your steak!”

Homelander smiles, chewing loudly as Butcher wishes he’ll go back to being silent.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I'm in the middle of a renewed obsession with cooking shows (kitchen nightmares, top chef but mostly polish editition hell's kitchen; also, watched burnt, the movie with bradley cooper, again...) and cooking for myself again (not as good...) and my top gun brainrot consensus is

I need a Celebrity Chef! Bradley AU.

An AU where he and Mav still stopped speaking when the papers pulling thing happened and Bradley left for college but when Bradley didn't have much choice but to either cook his own food (alone, without Mav's help for the first time in his life) or to starve on his college budget, he discovered some ridiculously good cooking skills there.

And you know, maybe he started a part-time job in some restaurant that went onto some equivalent of kitchen nightmares and the chef being the face of that show saw something in him and offered him mentoring and then when said chef was offered leading a new hell's kitchen/master chef show, he was there as one of the team sous chefs.

Or maybe he's one of the contestants and he either wins or he is good enough that he catches the chef's eye and gets to work and train under them. And maybe then he becomes new season's sous chef as well.

Imagine Mav turning on the TV one evening to see if he can make the new cooking show into his new guilty pleasure and seeing Bradley's face on the screen.

But I need this AU mostly because I fully believe that when they meet one way or another (either through Mav or sometime before the TGM timeline by accident) Jake has no fucking idea who Bradley is. He doesn't watch TV, he doesn't eat fancy food, and Bradley totally doesn't look like the type (hawaiian shirts, old jeans, too chill, lives in a house that looks like it hasn't had new decorations or furniture since the 80s) so when Bradley tells him 'oh I just work at a restaurant, nothing exciting' he just assumes he's a waiter or a barman or something. At that point, Bradley has his own fancy restaurant (Michelin-starred), regularly makes it onto the TV screens and is a celebrity.

So Jake would do all those ridiculous things before he finds out --- try to impress Bradley by making him burgers from supermarket ground beef, telling him his ravioli is not that good when Bradley cooks for him, taking him on a date out to a hole-in-the-wall taco place, blatantly criticizing his apple crumble because 'it has nothing on his ma's apple pie' and he might or might not have said that Pizza Hut is an okay place to go eat on a date. (And, you know, Bradley was absolutely charmed by the confidence and the dumbassery and everything in general just being so Jake, and it's not like he's a total culinary snob, he remembers how he was raised, etc).

It'd be even funnier if Jake finds out through Mav. Like, Mav asks the team to come to a dinner with his family and Bradley is holed up in the kitchen and Jake like a good southern boy asks if they need help with the food and Mav goes all, "Oh no, don't go in there, he's going to eat you alive if you even think about offering to help. My kid is some big fancy chef, he barely lets me help."

And then Bradley comes out of the kitchen with the amuse-bouche (kinda, it's not like they're in a restaurant...) and Jake has a surprise of a century because one, Bradley is Maverick's son?? and two, he's a chef??

Jake and Bradley have a little back and forth about it and then the whole squad is like, "You're dating the Bradley Bradshaw? And you, sir, your son is the Bradley Bradshaw?" because they recognize him from the TV.

And Jake finds out that not only is his boyfriend his CO's kid, he is also a world-renowned celebrity chef. And then the daggers are 0h-ing and Ah-ing at the best food they've ever eaten and Jake still goes, "I've eaten better steak."

And Mav, who has seen Bradley's rage and heard his rants about people having no taste tenses up until Bradley laughs and says, "Will do better next time, baby."

Years down the line, Bradley always repeats in the interviews that his husband is his toughest critic.

Maybe he's even asked to be the face of a new hell's kitchen-like TV show and one of the challenges for his contestant is cooking something his husband will like. Also, maybe cooking something from Mav's recipes in a way that will remind him of his childhood...

(Bonus points if Bradley is a recovering alcoholic/drug addict person non grata just like Adam from the Burnt movie... also, maybe it was Mav who kicked his butt into recovery??)

[drpeppertummy]

epic teddy post-werewoof tummyache event

[post-extreme stuffing, bellyache, belly rubs, a hint of burst teasing]

"Teddy! Teddy, wake up!"

Teddy groaned, his limp hands instinctively going to his belly. His belly was the first thing he could feel, aching sharply, nearly bursting, stuffed well beyond capacity with god knows what. He felt damp grass under his back, a warm hand patting his cheek. Cool breeze, hot sun. A ladybug crawling over his bare leg. Messy hair clinging to his clammy face. Dried mud on his feet. And his belly, drum-tight under his hands, bulging hard against his normally loose shirt, pulling it taut around his distended middle and straining the buttons.

"Teddy, can you hear me?" He opened his eyes, then shut them again, wincing at the harsh sunlight. It was Luna, of course; he didn't need to see her to know that. He opened his bone-dry mouth to respond and a strained burp came out instead, leaving a foul taste in the back of his throat. He grimaced. He felt a cautious hand on his belly and a pained whimper escaped him; even that tiny bit of pressure was too much. The hand pulled away quickly.

"Jesus, Teddy, what did you eat?" That was a good question. He had no idea. He knew that whatever it was had been more than enough to fill a stomach larger than the one he had now, leaving his poor human tummy stuffed to bursting with heaps of meat and bones and garbage and whatever else he'd eaten in his ravenous werewolf state. He vaguely remembered how it had felt to change back, his belly stretching and straining around the massive meal as he shrank back down, aching horribly as his stomach struggled desperately not to split open.

"Oh, my belly," he moaned, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, no shit, your belly. You look like you're about to explode. Can you move?"

"Do I have to?" He squinted up at her. She was still in her pajamas, likely having come out to look for him when she realized he wasn't home.

"I guess not," she said. "You're in the yard. Probably better if you don't, honestly." He couldn't argue with that. He didn't think his tightly-straining belly could handle any movement right now. He was so full he could barely breathe; moving was out of the question. Luna gently placed both hands on his belly again. It was rock solid, pushing out hard, bulging at the sides, twitching softly with each shallow breath.

"Listen, Teddy, I know it hurts, but I think your tummy needs some help," she said, rubbing carefully. Again, he couldn't argue. It didn't feel like his overtaxed stomach was digesting anything, too overwhelmed by the absurd quantity of food inside it to break anything down. If he left everything sitting in there undigested for too long, it might start to ferment inside him, and then he really might burst. The thought made him feel a little ill. As Luna cautiously massaged, though, the unbearable pressure began to ease up, albeit very, very slowly. His belly gurgled and groaned as it finally began to wake up and work at the jumble of poorly-chewed clutter.

"Is it getting any better?" asked Luna, still rubbing, pressing in as gently as she could as she tried to knead some life into his stomach.

"A little," said Teddy. A big gurgle rumbled up inside him, and he burped. It didn't help much, but it certainly didn't hurt, either.

"We're gonna have to start locking you up or something," she said. "Your poor belly can't take this kind of abuse." He looked away sheepishly, and she gently ruffled his hair.

"Hey, don't look so glum. You're not gonna explode today." She gave his distended side an affectionate pat. "We'll have you up and moving again in no time, then you can come inside and get some rest, alright?"

"Alright," agreed Teddy, smiling meekly. "Thanks, Luna."