#at the start of the night he pulled some food out of my parent's fridge and just started eating it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rogueddie · 1 year ago

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When Steve wakes up, he is very confused. His room looks very different and unfamiliar- but he knows it's his. It still has the plaid wallpaper his mom had picked out for him (he hadn't liked it, but there was a lot of lines and pretty colors).

The toy car his babysitter, Sarah, had gotten him for his fifth birthday isn't on his dresser anymore. He knows that she'd left it there for him last night, playfully insisting that he couldn't play with it until his actual birthday.

He'd been so excited to play with it. He wants to cry, and wail. He wants to run to his parents and scream until they give it back.

But they aren't home. That's why his babysitter had been over the previous night. They have a very important business trip that they aren't allowed to miss, not even for Steve's birthday.

The pictures in the hall look different too. Sarah had put up some cool pictures for him. She'd done the same for his fourth birthday. They had to take them down at the end of the day, but it had been nice to have family pictures up. Even if it was just for a day.

Sarah isn't downstairs.

He almost does scream this time. She'd promised that she'd stay the night, sleeping on the sofa, so he could have pancakes for breakfast. It's one of the many things that he can't, or isn't allowed, to make on his own.

His cake isn't in the fridge either. He even pulls a chair over so he can climb on it, to see if she'd hidden it on one of the higher shelves.

He sits on one of the dining chairs, watching the clock, and waiting.

After two hours pass, he gives up any hope he has.

Sarah, just like his parents, is probably too busy for him. He reasons that she probably just forgot to tell him. His mom had done that one time- it had stung, but he couldn't blame her. He forgot lots of stuff, even if it is important.

The only cereal in the pantry is some plain, corn brand that he doesn't recognise. It tastes just as bad as it looks, but there isn't a lot of food anymore.

At least, not a lot that he can make.

He has a second bowl, putting a few spoons of sugar in. It's not much better, but he doesn't feel so hungry anymore.

The TV looks different too. There's weird and new things playing. It's fun, interesting, and distracts him well enough that he's able to keep himself from worrying about how long he'll have to be alone again.

The next day goes the same.

The third day, he risks cooking. It ends up a little burnt, but it's better than cereal all the time.

The fourth day, he can't eat the food he tries to cook. It smells too nasty. He has to have cereal again. The sugar helps.

The fifth day, he doesn't risk cooking. His parents have never left him alone, without a babysitter, for more than a week, so he'll have a nice meal soon.

The sixth day, he checks their voicemail. There's a few odd messages from grown up sounding people, asking about how he's feeling, but he doesn't recognise any of their voices. He doesn't know what numbers he should try calling. He hopes they try calling again.

The seventh day, he sits at the bottom of the stairs. He stares at the front door, ready to jump up and give his mom and dad a warm welcome home.

The eighth day, he's starting to worry. Surely his parents will remember to call a different babysitter?

The ninth day, there's a key in the door. He almost misses it, sat in the kitchen, glaring at his cereal.

"Steve!" Someone calls. It sounds like one of the nice, unfamiliar grown ups who left a voicemail message. "Stevie! You here? How are- oh my god."

"Hi," Steve greets. He waves, tries giving his most polite smile. He almost forgets to keep his lips shut- his dad told him that his teeth don't look nice enough for a grin that big yet. "You're one of the nice people who left me a message, right?"

She stares at him for a long moment, mouth hanging open. "Steve?"

"That's me! What's your name?"

"Robin."

He sticks a hand out to her. "I's nice to meet you Miss Robin!"

"Yeah," she replies, voice high and thin. Her hand is trembling when she gently shakes his hand. "I'm... gonna need to use your phone. Real quick, ok?"

"Um... ok. But you can't make long distance calls, mommy will be very mad at me." He bites his thumb nail, following her into the hall. "Are you a babysitter? Is Sarah sick?"

"Sarah?" Robin echoes, questioningly. She's only half paying attention though, pushing in a phone number.

"My babysitter. She was supposed to be here for my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" She chokes out, spinning around so fast she stumbles. She looks heartbroken.

"Not anymore! It's ok, you don't need to be sad. She gave me my present early too, so it was good."

"Wait. How long have you been... what have you been eating?"

"Um. Cereal, mostly. All the food is different. It's weird."

"That's not- oh, hi," she turns away slightly, talking to whoever is on the phone. "Yeah, I'm at Steve's right now. Gather, like, everyone. We have a major emergency."

"No!" Steve quickly says. He tugs at the bottom of her top. "Not an emergency! You can't say that, you'll get me in trouble!"

"You don't understand, this is-"

"No, please," he pleads. He can only hope he won't get in trouble for talking back to her. "I'm sorry."

"Ok, ok, alright," she agrees. She pauses for a second, listening. "No, that was Steve. Yeah, exactly, that's why-"

"Tell them it isn't an emergency. Please. If dad hears, I'll be in big trouble."

"Ok, big guy. It's not an emergency. Just... yeah, do that. Yeah. Alright. No, I'll be fine. I can deal with it. Ok, see you soon."

She hangs up with a sigh, turning to look at him. She still looks sad.

"Are you ok, Miss Robin?"

Her laugh sounds strained, but she laughs. "I'm alright. How are you?"

"I'm ok. Do you know when mommy and daddy will be back?"

"I don't. I'm sorry, Stevie."

"It's ok. It's only, like... I can't really, uh, cook."

"I can make you something. What's your fave? It was your birthday, you said? Let's get you something special! How old are you?"

He stumbles a little, trying to keep up with her fast talking as well as he long strides. "I'm five. Sarah was going to make me pancakes."

"We can do pancakes." She searches the cupboards and fridge, frowning. "Where is anything?"

"I dunno. I looked but everything is all gone or weird."

"Well... we'll just have to have pancakes later. Special pancakes, for the special birthday boy."

"I guess."

She steps close, putting her hands on her hips as she looks him over. "Are you sure you're five? Did you hit your growth spurt early? You're getting real big."

"I dunno. Mommy says I'm gonna be tall and be a real ladies man, or something."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Not really. Mommy thinks it's cool though."

"Hm. Are you too big to pick up?"

"Oh, you're not supposed to. Daddy says I'm a big boy now. Big boys don't get picked up."

"Your dad's an asshole."

Steve giggles, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. "You're not supposed to say that! It's a naughty word!"

"Supposed to do this, supposed to do that," she tutts. She leans down, scooping him up into her arms, resting him on her hip. "Your five, stop being so boring!"

Her hand feels so big on his back, like there's no way he could fall with her holding him. She doesn't even seem to mind his hand automatically grabbing the collar of her shirt.

"Daddy doesn't like it when people pick me up."

"What do you like? Hm? Do you want me to put you down?"

"... No."

"Then I'm not putting you down. Daddy isn't here to tell us off, is he? And what he doesn't know, can't hurt him."

She bounces him a few times, making him giggle. Judging by her satisfied grin, that was her aim.

It confuses him, a little. Mostly because she keeps doing that- little things, little comments, trying to make him laugh. Trying to make him smile. Even just listening to him talk about things. Little things. Silly things. Like she isn't annoyed when he goes on, and on, and on.

By the time another person comes in, he's decided that she's the best person in the whole wide world. If she puts him down or tries to leave, he's going to throw a tantrum.

He knows it's bad, but he doesn't want her to leave too. She's cool.

"Oh, God. Robin, please tell me that the baby isn't Steve."

"He's five," Robin corrects. "And yes, it's Steve. I checked, it's him."

"What the hell happened to him?"

"I don't know, I called you!"

"Is something wrong with me?" Steve asks, voice quiet and timid.

"No!" Robin quickly tries to say, at the same time the man says, "yes, obviously."

"Dustin!" Robin scolds.

"What? Lying to him won't help!"

"Neither will being a dick about it!" She tutts at him, adjusting Steve in her arms when she looks to him. "It's nothing, like, bad. It's just kinda weird. See, when we saw you, a week ago... you were a little bit older than me. And now you're five."

Steve stares at her for a moment. She looks too serious, too honest.

"Weird," he says.

"Exactly," she agrees. "From what you've said, though, it's not that bad. You're still you, and you're healthy. You're just... not so big."

"Maybe El can fix him," Dustin mutters, squinting at Steve. He leans close. "When did this happen?"

"He's been like this for a week," Robin tells him. Her voice is quiet, almost scared- it doesn't help that Dustin looks horrified too. "At least."

"Who's been taking care of him?"

"No one."

"What the hell," Dustin turns his frown on Steve. "Why didn't you call anyone?"

"Not supposed to unless it's a real emergency," Steve says. "Mommy says she has a repo... rep... rep-yuh-tay-shun. It's a big thing."

Dustin looks heartbroken, turning to Robin, who shrugs back at him. He groans after a pause, frowning at Robin. "Shit. You can't drive."

"Oh, shit."

"I'll call Eddie," Dustin sighs, already heading to the hall.

"Who's Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Eddie's a friend. He looks a little scary, but don't worry. He's a big softie, an absolute teddy bear." She leans close, whispering loudly with a grin. "Don't tell him I told you, though. He likes to pretend that he's all tough and mean."

"And he's... not mean?"

"Not a cruel bone in his body."

"Ok," he bites at his thumb, frowning when Robin gently pulls his hand out his mouth. "You won't leave though, right?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You gotta promise, though! Pinky Promise!" He lifts a hand, sticking his pinky up- Robin almost immediately wraps her own around his.

"I promise I won't leave you. Who knows what could happen if I leave you alone with the gremlins." She pretends to shudder. "Oh, the horrors.."

"He'll be here in five minutes," Dustin announces.

"That's... quick."

"Yeah. I barely got out 'Steve is in trouble' before he hung up."

"Maybe don't start like that next time," Robin rolls her eyes. She adjusts Steve again, trying to sit him higher on her hip. "He's probably breaking at least, like, five speeding laws or something."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"Whatever." She huffs. "Jesus. Steve, bud, I might need to put you down for a sec."

"Oh... um... do you have to?"

"My arms are really starting to hurt, bud," she says. She looks as upset at the idea as he feels. "Maybe we could sit down together. Would that be a good compromise?"

"Yeah!" He grins. "What's a comp- compa-"

"Com-pruh-mise." She says it slowly, careful to sound it out, as she sits down on the sofa. She pulls Steve around so he's sat on her knees, facing her. She keeps one hand on his back, supporting him.

"Com-pa-mise," Steve repeats.

"Oh, that was great!" Robin encourages, laughing at how big and excited Steves responding grin is. "Well, compromise is when..."

Robin is so patient with him, taking her time with him, making sure he understands what she's saying- before easily jumping onto whatever tangent he brings up.

It feels like only a few minutes have passed by the time the doorbell rings. Dustin stands to answer- Steve had completely forgotten he was there the whole time, too caught up in his conversation with Robin.

He doesn't come back for a moment. Steve can hear muttering, straining to hear what they're saying, but the living room doors shut.

A man follows him inside. He's tall, with long hair and dark clothes. He looks different to anyone Steve has ever seen before. He looks scary.

"Oh god," he mumbles, frowning at Steve. "You're not joking."

Steve tugs at Robins sleeve, leaning close to her, whispering, "who's that?"

"Oh, right!" Robin groans when she stands, lifting Steve with her. "Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."

"This is Steve," Eddie repeats. "Jesus Christ."

"Why do you look so scary?" Steve blurts out. He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified.

But Eddie just laughs. "Damn, Stevie, tell me what you really think."

"You do!" Steve snaps, face warming. "All the black and chains and stuff."

"Robin is wearing 'black and chains and stuff'."

"Yeah, but Robins cool."

"You wound me," Eddie gasps, slapping a hand to his chest. "I'm totally cooler than Robin."

"Nope," Robin quickly cuts in. "Steve said I'm cool, not you. It's been said, declared- no, decreed! Facts are facts, Eds, suck on it!"

"Ew," Steve and Eddie say in sync, grimacing.

"Alright," Dustin interrupts, hands on his hips. "You're introduced, now can we go? Now?"

Part two

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #ficlet #stevecentric #I've been trying to remember where I wanted to go with this but failing miserably so I'm just posting it #it's not great but I like it so 🤷‍♂️

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thetriumphantpanda · 2 years ago

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nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years.

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too.

There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you.

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago?

“Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery.

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.”

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?”

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing.

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge.

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.”

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves.

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.”

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke.

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.”

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass.

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip.

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug.

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!”

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.”

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?”

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.”

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.”

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.”

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer.

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel.

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him.

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.”

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.”

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?”

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?”

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.”

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.”

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.”

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?”

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that.

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.”

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down.

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash.

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.”

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy.

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.”

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize.

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration.

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?”

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.”

“Says who?” You pry.

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone.

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?”

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.”

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.”

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you.

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently.

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.”

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth.

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him.

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits.

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.”

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.”

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?”

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole.

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.”

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet.

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers.

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound.

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.”

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy.

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans.

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap.

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.”

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.”

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised.

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.”

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lavendertom · 1 year ago

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The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 2

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none! fluff, hurt/comfort if u squint, tiny age gap (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings.

quick note, AU where nothing bad happens at the pizzeria, so we r diverging from that storyline slightly. more info to come next part :) happy reading!

——————————————————————————

“Mike! Y/n is here!” Abby shouted through the house.

You had just walked through the front door of the Schmidt house. You had been Abby’s babysitter for just over a month now, but tonight was different. It was going to be your first night shift. Mike had just started a new security gig where he had to work a few nights each week.

So far, it’s been great babysitting Abby. The two of you have grown closer, doing more and more activities together. It rarely felt like work babysitting Abby. Becoming closer to Abby meant you were also, slowly but surely, growing closer to Mike.

You were hanging up your jacket on the coat hanger next to the door, looking up just in time to see Mike standing in the hallway in front of you. He had his usual attire on: some kind of long sleeved shirt with a jacket, a pair of jeans, and some old tennis shoes. But this time, a vest sporting the phrase “security” was worn over his jacket.

“Nice halloween costume.” you said sarcastically, holding in a small laugh.

“Don’t judge.” he said sighing, rolling his eyes. “Only I can hate it.”

“I’m just messing with you. You give that vest character.” you said, playfully pushing his shoulder as you walked past each other. You headed over to Abby as she sat at the dinner table, pushing her food around on her plate. “What’s up Abs?”

“Nothing. Can you tell Mike to stop making this stuff? It sucks.” she said looking up at you.

“Thanks for the feedback, next time I’ll leave dinner all up to you.” he said as he grabbed his keys and backpack. The young girl rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him when his back was turned. You pulled a chair to sit with Abby at the table when Mike walked over.

“You gonna be okay tonight?” Mike asked you, he placed his hands on the backs of the chairs. This was probably the 20th time he asked you this. He knew nights weren’t what you signed up for, but you were flexible and didn’t mind the change of plans.

“Yes, I promise. My parents are just across the street if we need anything.” you said with a smile.

“Alright, my phone number’s on the fridge if you need anything.” If only you knew I already had it memorized. “Abs you gotta be in bed by 9:30, you understand? You have school in the morning. Don’t give y/n a hard time.” Mike said as he ruffled Abby’s hair, kissing her head.

“Sounds like a plan.” you said, looking at Mike as he headed towards the door. “See you in the morning.”

He looked at you one last time before saying his goodbyes, shutting the door behind him. It wasn’t long before Abby had her first activity recommendation of the night.

“Can we have a movie night before bed?” she asked you. You decided to donate some of your old favorite movies to the siblings, giving Abby a whole new array of movies to choose from.

“Sure, what do you have in mind?” you asked.

“The Little Mermaid!” she squealed.

The two of you made some popcorn, even allowing Abby a cup of her favorite soda, before settling down with some cozy blankets and pillows for your movie night. You watched as the girl sat in awe at the film playing before her eyes.

You always hoped to see the day a young child’s eyes would light up from experiencing your favorite films from your childhood. You never thought that feeling would’ve come from seeing Abby experience the magic for the first time.

You both sat watching the film intently, occasionally throwing a handful of popcorn into your mouths.

“Do you ever wish you’ll find a prince like Ariel?” Abby randomly blurted out.

“Yeah, I think it would be nice.” you said, not giving much thought to the silly question. Abby often asked questions like these. “Do you?”

“I don’t think so. I’m too little.” she scrunched her nose.

“Good answer.” you said with a small laugh.

You turned your attention back to the movie, taking a sip of your drink.

“I think Mike’s still waiting for his princess.” the young girl blurted out again. This time, it caught you off guard.

“Yeah?” you asked, choking on your soda a bit.

“He’s always so sad and tired. Maybe a princess would cheer him up.”

“What kind of princess do you think he would like?”

“Someone to make him laugh. Someone who gives him a big hug when he is sad. Someone who makes better mac and cheese than he does.”

You smiled at the girl listening to her list off all of the qualifications.

“That sounds like the perfect princess Abs.”

“You would be a good princess for Mike.” she blurted yet again, eyes still on the screen, catching you off guard once more.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you said, feeling your face warm up. You thought about that comment the rest of the night.

You somehow managed to get Abby to bed at 10, which isn’t bad considering how much she loves talking and playing with you. She went down fairly quickly, giving you the rest of the night to yourself.

You flipped through the channels on the TV, trying to stay awake, also trying not to think about Abby’s comment earlier. “You would be a good princess for Mike.” Ultimately, you failed, falling asleep to the sound of the 12am news.

At around 4:30am, you heard the sound of shuffling at the door, sitting up groggily to see what the fuss was. The door quietly opened and you heard the sound of a backpack hit the floor.

“I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?” Mike whispered.

“No it’s all good. I just kind of woke up on my own.” you replied, half lying, with a small yawn. “I tried to stay awake but the TV line up in the middle of the night isn’t fantastic.”

“You’re fine, y/n. You deserve rest while you’re on the job. You have class tomorrow anyways.” he said as he went to sit on the recliner next to the couch you laid on. You both sat in silence for a minute or two, it felt like forever. “How’d Abby do?”

“Great as always.” you said rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes. “We watched a movie, I might’ve given her a soda. She went to bed at around 10, but I don’t blame her I was her age once too.”

“That’s good. No problems?”

“When has there ever been any problems, Mike.” you said with a chuckle. More silence filled the air.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

He thought for a moment, hesitating before he spoke up. “Thank you for all you do for us. I’ve really seen a change in Abby lately and there’s no doubt you are a big part of that.”

“Of course.” you said with a smile. “Abby’s a great kid.”

“You know things haven’t been easy.” he said with a sigh. “I think you bring just a little more happiness in her life – in our lives.”

You looked at him for a moment, noticing his eyes like you did the first time you met him. They were still that shade of brown with the little green specks, but this time they were filled with sadness. He looked absolutely drained. He knew you noticed the hopelessness in the interaction.

“I’m sorry about that, didn’t mean to drop any of this on you.” he said looking down at his hands.

“Mike, it’s okay.” you said softly, reassuring him. You just honestly didn’t know what to say.

You stood up from your place on the couch, watching him sit up a little taller in his own chair.

“Come here.” you said quietly, surprised he even heard you.

He stood up, stepping towards you quietly not to wake up Abby with the creaky floorboards. Once he was right in front of you, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. It took him a second until he also put his arms around you. You rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his shirt. You guys just stood there for a minute, you waited until he let go. You knew he needed this. You knew all of those things Abby told you earlier were true.

He finally let go, taking a small step back as your hands rested on his shoulders.

“You guys are going to be okay. I’m here for both of you.” you said looking into his eyes.

“I promise I’ll have the money by the end of the week.” he said, attempting to change the subject.

“Don’t worry about the money. You worry about you and Abby, whenever you have the money will be okay.” you said as you removed your hands from his shoulders.

“Are you sure? You have things you need to take care of too. College tuition is enough to worry about.”

“It’s okay, Mike. I’ll be fine.” you said with a soft smile. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, same time?”

“Yeah.” he said as you walked to the door grabbing your jacket. He followed behind. “Thanks again.”

He pulled you in for another quick hug, before you opened the door, waved bye, and began walking home. He stayed at the door until you safely crossed the street, like he always does, before closing it.

That morning, Abby had a lot to say about her movie night with you to Mike.

“She let me have soda before bed, Mike!” Abby exclaimed while she took a bite of her toast. “And we watched The Little Mermaid, and I asked her if she ever wished she had a prince like Ariel.”

“You know y/n is busy Abs. She has lots of homework, she doesn’t have time for princes.” Mike told his sister as he flipped through some mail. It was true though, some days you would end up doing homework during most of your time babysitting.

“She said it would be nice, then I told her that you definitely need a princess, and I told her that your princess needs to be funny and–“

“Alright Abby I think it’s time for you to go to school now.” Mike said, quickly interrupting her before she could say anymore.

“What?” she questioned him.

“Nothing.” he said standing up to grab his keys, avoiding looking at his little sister.

“I knew it! You have a crush on Y/n!” she said with a gasp.

“I do not, Abs.”

“I won’t tell her, I’ll keep it a secret, I promise!”

“Abs, I don’t have a crush on anyone. People don’t have crushes when they’re adults.”

“You’re blushing, Mike.” she said giggling as she ran to grab her backpack. When she returned, Mike was just heading out the door. Abby picked up her shoes, walking out of the door behind him.

As the pair walked to Mike’s extremely worn out Honda Accord, it just so happened you were also heading to your car just across the street. Abby took notice of this quickly, making sure not to miss this moment to embarrass her brother even more. It’s what little sisters do.

“Hey Y/n!” she shouted, making sure to drag out the ending super long.

“Hey Abby!” you shouted back. “Have a good day at school!”

“Mike say hi.” Abby said to her brother.

“Abby.” he said back, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Say it now or I’ll tell Y/n you have a crush on her.”

He gave you a small wave and a smile as he unlocked the doors.

“See you guys tonight!” you said happily as you got in your car.

“You so have a crush on Y/n.” Abby said one last time, grinning, just for good measure.

#fnaf #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy’s movie #abby schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf fic

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jessilynallendilla · 1 month ago

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DPXDC FENTONS IN GOTHAM AND MISCELLANEOUS

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DP FIC REC HOME POST

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

FENTONS WORKING IN GOTHAM

Stalling T 2,363

Just a perfectly normal conversation between Arkham's newest psychiatrist, and its most troublesome resident. In the staff parking lot. During a jailbreak. How she walks out of this alive is a question even the Batman himself wants answered.

Who's Afraid Of Who? G 611 SERIES

Someone gives Jazz the wrong interrogation room number. Now she goes to visit a certain Dr. Crane...The station officers realize the error in the files when visiting the other resource, 1 hour later it's too late. By the time they arrive at the interrogation room, they find...Dr Jasmine Nightingale became an expert on the mind to help people. That included almost all of Gotham's worst offenders. Dr Crane, aka Scarecrow, is about to find out more first hand.

Danny The Intern T

Danny decided to intern at Wayne Enterprise. He's always so helpful, and polite, and gets the job done. He gets REALLY confused when his co-workers start acting weird: they would either pull him into another room; or make him do some outlandish task so far away, or a group of people suddenly surround him. It’s as if they are trying to hide him from someone. Meanwhile, there is an unspoken agreement amongst the employees: Rule #4: DO NOT LET ANY WAYNES SEE HIM. Otherwise, they are going to lose their most helpful intern (and hopefully a permanent employee) because of those damn Wayne’s adopting addictions. Though of course, it wasn’t long until they messed up Rule #4.

Trivia Night G

Danny gets a job at some underground bar as one of the tenders there. The problem? He wasn’t informed that Gotham’s most dangerous villains would frequently go out for drinks, using said bar to do so. And naturally, through the power of tired college student and brunt-out hero, he manages to gain favor of all of them. So much so that they begin including him on planning heists, kidnappings, etc

Just Another ̶L̶A̶ Gotham Devotee~ T

Danny didn't expect much after leaving Amity and his vigilante career for a job at Wayne Tech R&D. All he wanted was a decent roof over his head, non ecto-contaminated food in his fridge, and maybe to stop getting thrown into buildings so often. Hell, he'd even negotiate that last point if it kept the Bats of his back. Unfortunately, fate has never been kind. Ancients, he needs a vacation.

Specter Of The Month T

Far from Amity and those who'd follow, Danny does the only sensible option to make money and watch over his sister. Apply to become an Arkham Asylum security guard. When breakout rates drop and Penguin's released spouting rumors of a ghost haunting BlackGate, a certain Tim Drake grows curious.

Gotham's Ghostly Bartender T

Danny after revealing to his parents he is Phantom and taking his place as King of the Infinite Realms, decides to try his luck as human opening a nightclub in Gotham. It´s going great until he attracts the attention of the Bats because he can´t help going feral on the Joker everytime he finds him on the city

Help! My Teacher's A Mad Scientist NR

wherein Danny is a metalwork teacher at Gotham academy and ends up subbing for Tim's chemistry class. Measurements are just suggestions.

Pitch-Dark Shades T

Danny Fenton is trying to build a new life in Gotham after closing up the connections to the Ghost Zone. Not that all connections are entirely broken, still being able to perceive shades and give them strength when he connects to one of their prized objects. Tim Drake is trying to find his own place in the world, focusing on becoming a better detective by solving cold cases in his spare time. When Tim and Danny meet, a new (begrudging) partnership starts to bloom to solve even the hardest of cases. Or it would if only they told each other the truth.

New Job, Who's This? T 8,000 SERIES

Danny has an interview with the Engineering Team at Wayne Enterprises. He gets a job, but not where he expected.

Those Who Serve. T

Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need.

A Matter Of Opinion M 13,096

Jasmine Fenton goes down a different path in her attempt to care for her brother. Unfortunately, she could not stop her parents from taking her brother apart. Now, his core is slowly rebuilding his body from infancy, and someone has to pay for letting the Anti-Ecto Acts exist. When she bites off more than she can chew, she learns how to grow bigger teeth, and hunts down bigger prey.

The Curious Case Of D. Grayson T

Dick Grayson gets a job in Wayne Industries as an electrical engineer, or so is the word. Except it's not Dick who gets the job but Danny Grayson, half ghost and professional disaster. Of course, because nothing is ever easy for Danny, the world mistakes him for the prolific first child of Bruce Wayne and therefore rumours start Dick Grayson got married in secret. What could possibly go wrong, am I right?

Penny Two T 6,822

Alfred decides to hire Danny Fentom as an assistant butler. Bruce is uncertain about having a new person in his house.

He Can See Ghosts Because He’s A Medium, Obviously NR SERIES

But no, what convinced him he’s in a different dimension are the ghosts. They’re nothing like the ghosts from the infinite realms, more like stereotypical ghosts kids who were raised normally believe in. The ones no one can see except in the flickering of lights, something falling when it shouldn’t, a strange noise or even sometimes a shadowy figure. But not for Danny, cause of course he can’t be normal. To him these ghosts look like every other living person around him. Or Danny gets trapped in the DC universe, specifically Gotham, and decides since he can see ghosts here he may as well use it. Or or Danny the medium!

Ghost In The Morgue M

There's something off about the new Medical Examiner for the Gotham City Police Department. Danny Fenton, now working for the G.C.P.D. is good at his job. Very good. His reports are always done promptly and accurately. Scarily accurate. His "unofficial reports" even more so, listing details the medical examiner shouldn't know. He's an oddity, and oddities in Gotham attract Bats.

Mondays, Am I Right? T 2,681 SERIES

There was a long silence. He heard his sister breathe in, breathe out, like she was mentally preparing herself to say something. “I… I heard, from other interns I talked to, that guard positions are always open. And that it’s super easy to get in.”

Unnerving T

There's a new doctor at Arkham Asylum, and with the new doctor came a new security guard. Or, Jazz decided to work in Arkham and now it's everyone's problem.

Arkham Phantom: The Cryptic Security Guard NR

Danny becomes a security guard at Arkham.

Graveyard Shift NR

He moved slowly through the dark hall as the alarms blared and flashed, his eyes cutting through the dark. Where. Where did he go? He pauses at a sound, glancing down the left hall as a masked group crouches and goes still. Not paying them any mind, he pays more attention to the blue smoke that finds its way out his throat, curling around his face before trailing off down the hall. He starts walking again. He has someone to find. With barely a thought he slowly fades from the visible spectrum as he continues down the straight hall.

Shrike T

Danny Fenton starts a new life in Gotham but ghosts keep following him, forcing him to return as Phantom to try and keep them in control. The Bats are trying to hunt down the new meta due to the destruction he causes. In his civilian life, Danny finds himself being questioned about his background and knowledge of technology when he wins a full ride scholarship and fellowship from Wayne Enterprises. Both sides of his life ends crumbling before him.

DANNY IN GOTHAM

Wait, I'm A What? T

after Clockwork dropped of Danny in Gotham he tries to make the best out of the situation which includes helping out some people. Except along the way that led to rumors that he was an up-and-coming crime boss. A rumor he was largely unaware of.

Wait! I’m A Cartoon Over Here!?! T

A new vigilante group had been working the rounds. Every rogue or villain they came across for the past week got defeated in seconds. Bruce has been aging like a fly due to the stress of trying to catch them. Everyone else wishes to meet and get their autographs. While Damian and Dick can’t figure out why this group's actions, tools, and abilities feel so familiar. That is until Damian gets saved by a teen with snow-white hair and glowing green eyes. Damian just got saved by a cartoon character Dick and he watches regularly. Meanwhile, Danny and the gang got dumped into the DC Universe. They are familiar with the comics, shows, and movies, they know what’s up, and they can survive! They plan not to draw too much attention. Maybe help a person here or there? get an autograph or ten? But, definitely find a way back home. That plan fails immediately, and now, they’re a vigilante group with a dumb name. But, as long as they stay in the shadows, they should be fine! That all changes when Danny saves Robin and learns something very important yet terrifying.

Cry Of The Mourning Dove T

Danny's made it this far from Amity. An alley way, somewhere in Gotham city. He had a goal, but he's so injured... He's not sure he's gonna find who he needs to find. Red Robin and Red Hood find him first. A kid. Bleeding green. With Bruce Wayne's face.

Bus To Nowhere T

Is it running from your problems if your problems consider you to be a dead imprint of consciousness that killed their son? Yes, but Danny tries not to think about how his nightmares of his parents trying to kill him came true when they found out he was Phantom. After being on the run from his parents and the government for a couple of months, moving from town to town, Danny ends up in Gotham City and decides to risk staying in Batman's territory. He'd take the wrath of Batman over live vivisection via beloved parents or being studied and torn apart by the government. Besides, he's not a meta. Being dead is a medical condition.

Change In Management T SERIES

Desperate for energy to sustain herself and her city, Gotham tries to consume Phantom but loses and instead bequeaths her mantle to him as she destabilizes. This has some interesting consequences as Danny now finds himself inexplicably linked to a crime-ridden city in another dimension.

In The Dead Of Night T

Danny's life has never been normal. One night he is thrust into a situation he never wanted and certainly didn't ask for. Now lost, alone, and injured in an unfamiliar city, he must rely on the help of strangers in the forms of Gotham City's vigilantes, and the family of Bruce Wayne. In order to survive and keep himself out of the hands of an insane cult that is desperately seeking out a power far greater than anyone should have.

Thirty-Odd Days Of Chasing An Enigma T

Danny and the Batfam play hide and seek and tag, all on the palm of Danny's hand, while he tries to gain some much needed balance after a reveal gone bad.

Anarchic T 5,585 SERIES

Danny Fenton is set free on another world, he really should've taken the "No consequences" claim with a pinch of salt

Hatred At First Sight G 1,304

The residence of Gotham were used to rogue attacks and most didn't bat an eye to the extravagance that was the Joker even as everyone watching as he live filmed his assault on the bank in a numb kind of horror that you could only acquire through exposure. He was holding a bunch of hostages, asking the watchers what he should do with them with a wide unhinged smile and maliciously gleeful eyes that watched his many victims squirm in terror. Until he looked at the skrunky kid in a ratty hoodie that looked like he could be a Wayne adoptee. And both froze for a good minute. And like some kind of demented switch got flipped the kid snarled and (still with his hands tied behind his back mind you) launched himself at the Joker.

Danny's Guide To Not Dying Alone On The Street G

After his parents chase him out of the city, Danny finds his way to Gotham to stay out of the eye of the GIW or any other ghost hunters who might be interested in him. After he accidentally shows his powers in a very public setting, can he avoid the ghosts of his past and the ever-increasing number of Gotham Vigilantes interested in him?

Run Ghost Run NR

Danny escaped from the GIW and his parents, but he had to keep running. If those in the infinite realm found out what happened war would happen. Clockwork said to follow the birds and bats whatever that means. For now, he would just hide in Gotham. No one would look for him there.

Gotham's Haunted G

Five times Danny Surprised a Batkid and that one time he was forcefully adopted by Bruce Wayne.

No Laughing Matter NR

Danny kills the Joker, not knowing of the kill switch set to release Joker gas the moment Jokers heart stops beating

Taking Flight T

Danny decides to tell his parents the truth. It doesn't go so hot. Fleeing Amity Park for his life he decides Gotham is the best place to fall through the cracks. Sadly as a black-haired blue-eyed teen with a strong sense of morality the adoption papers were half filled out. Unfortunately for Bruce, Danny has a thing about rich guys with secret identities who want to adopt him.

Death Is Not The Enemy T

Danny gets summoned into a new universe, makes some friends, becomes part of the most powerful vigilante clan ever, punches a bunch of satanists, finds the meaning of family and gets a chance at dreaming big. Definitely not in that order

Concession To Realism G

Clockwork sends Danny to a universe where he'll be safe until he can take up the mantle of Ghost King, a dimension far away from the Fentons and other ghost hunters. Danny is less than thrilled, especially when he starts developing a soft spot for some local bats.

And So It Ghost T 65,805 SERIES

When Danny Fenton is invited to a Technology Fair in Gotham he hopes it will help open doors to a good college. What he doesn't expect is an attack by a technology obsessed ghost, or a visit from the Batman himself. Can Danny keep his identity a secret while also scoring a spot at Gotham University? Or will everything come crashing down around his ears like usual?

MISC

A Vigilante A Day Keeps The Government Away M 11,158

Lucius Fox gets a phone call he'd never expected from a source even more unexpected. Now, he's got to figure out what to do with a betrayed child, a traumatized nephew, a protective son, and an adoption-prone Bat.

I Can Be Both Even If It's Hard (And It's Hard) G 52,999 SERIES

Sam and Tucker ran to get Jazz and didn't see Danny come out of the portal. By the time they return Danny has transformed back. This changes things.

-=INSERT TERM=- T

“It's probably just identity theft” Tim looked up from his laptop in the corner as he said it, a courtesy Jason didn't return. “Maybe” he sighed, reading through the document in front of him again. Apparently a kid had cashed in his government trust fund, two years after his death. “I don't know why you care” Tim continued, returning to his screen. Originally Jason hadden’t, had even been offended when Bruce handed him the file with instructions to ‘look into this’. However, the more he did look into it, the more he realised this wasn’t really about the trust fund at all.

Dull Residue Of What Once Was (A Shattered Cloud Of Swirling Doves) T SERIES

Danny didn't expect to become Ghost King. He definitely didn't expect or want to become a target for summoning because of it. He's pretty annoyed at this point. But hey, at least he gets to meet some of his favorite heroes! The Batclan meets King Phantom. It's very alarming.

Of Course It's A Cult T 2,696 SERIES

Danny did not sign up for kingship. Nor did he sign up for random summons by crazy cult people. Fortunately, the sacrifices for this one are still alive and are slightly familiar.

The Historian NR SERIES

I have even documented some stories claiming that the Bat is a living person. Of course, these claims are preposterous and should be immediately discounted. What living person would willingly choose to dress as a bat to fight crime?

Dead Men Don't Bleed M

Dead men don't bleed. When the body begins to break down, the blood settles and congeals in the veins, clotting and preventing them from being able to bleed like the living. This, of course, isn't an issue, so long as your corpse stays dead.

Tape 01 NR

Daniel "Danny" James Fenton wasn't just a normal young adult and while everyone seemed to accept this fact, nobody was able to understand it. That's the point, where all his problems started to evolve into something much bigger. So nobody noticed when he disappeared...

When The Clown No Longer Laughed M SERIES

Things have been going well for Arkham Asylum. There haven't been any breakouts in a while, a new team of Psychologists are starting to make a breakthrough with the residents, and Gotham is starting to heal. But with the recent suicide of one Mr. Freeze, Batman decides to look into what is happening in Arkham Asylum. Dr. Penelope Spectra talks about the good she is doing for the inmates, and how they are finally being rehabilitated. But Batman knew something was deeply wrong. When the Clown no longer laughed.

Time Traveler Code G 1,486

Danny has to (re)introduce himself to Batman and his family after meeting them in the alternate Dan future. He has a few other big pieces of information to break to them, too

#dpxdc #danny phantom #batman #long post #fic rec

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osamusbigtits · 2 months ago

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suna knocks on the apartment door. his hands tremble and he thinks about turning around and leaving. but where would he go? he doesn't have a home anymore...

atsumu opens the door, grumbling, "I told you not to bother- oh. suna?"

suna tries not to wince. "is now a bad time?" he asks. he'll take any excuss to leave. to run away and hide and never be seen by the world again.

but atsumu must see through the mask of emotion suna has, because he says "no, come in. what's wrong?"

there's the question he's been dreading. suna doesn't answer as he walks in and kicks his shoes off.

"you said you told osamu not to bother us," sakusa says, suddenly storming in. suna winces this time. he should leave.

atsumu grabs suna's wrist. "sorry, baby."

"it's okay," suna says. "really, I can leave."

atsumu doesn't listen and instead pulls suna into the kitchen. he pushes suna towards a chair while he gets started on grabbing some leftovers. suna's chin wobbles.

"so, whats wrong?" atsumu asks again as he opens the fridge.

"osamu broke up with me."

atsumu freezes. he turns out of the fridge to look at suna. but suna buries his face into his hands, still trying to fight the tears that begin to spill. it's too late, a useless battle. but suna fights it anyways.

it hurts even more when atsumu checks his phone, supposedly for a missed call or text from osamu because there is no way atusmu could find this out from suna.

atsumu types on his phone. suna can tell because atsumu never turns the volume off on his phone despite suna teasing him for it.

"okay, sorry. you have my full attention now," atsumu says, setting his phone aside.

suna breathes in, a shakey breath that turns into a sniffle. "no, it's fine. you should b-be with osamu." suna hates the way his voice sounds, the stutter that comes through, the sob that almost breaks when he says osamu's name.

atsumu doesn't reply. suna tries to catch his breath and calm himself while atsumu heats up some food for them.

when suna wipes his tears, the mascara and eyeliner he decided to wear this morning smear onto his hand. silently, atsumu grabs a tissue and hands it to suna.

they eat in the silence as well. suna sniffling quietly. he didn't realize how hungry he was, chowing down as if it's his last meal. although, he realizes he didn't eat on the train home. too excited to see his boyfriend... his ex-boyfriend.

"what happened?" atsumu asks and pushes the half full plate toward suna.

"fuck, I don't know." suna wipes his eyes again before taking another bite of food. "I came home and it was like... it was so weird." suna realizes it's not home anymore and a sob breaks. but he tries to continue. "h-he barely even greeted me. and we ended up fighting and then he just... he just said we're done. and now I'm here because I literally have nowhere else to go." suna looks up at atsumu, although his face is blurred from the tears in suna's eyes. "isn't that pathetic? I don't have my apartment, I don't have family, my boyfriend broke up with me. I have nothing, atsumu."

suna laughs. a wet, pathetic laugh at himself. he's so stupid for thinking he could have a future.

atsumu comes around the table and wraps his arms around suna. "you have me," atsumu says. "I'm here. I'm your family."

suna cries into atsumu's shoulder. he's not sure how long they're like that. he can't bring himself to think of how embarrassing it must look.

but eventually, atsumu tugs suna into the spare bedroom, the extra room they set up for friends. atsumu pulls suna into his arms.

together, they lay like the first night atsumu caught suna after a phone call to his parents. what feels like a million years ago was actually more like 6 years. suna can still remember begging atsumu not to tell anyone.

now, suna can't bring himself to say anything. and atsumu holds him for as long as he needs, until suna tires himself out from crying and falls asleep in his best friends arms.

#eek angst #bex thoughts #hq #sunaosa #suna rintarou

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ikemenomegas · 4 months ago

Text

Megumi is not good at cooking. Not the way that Tsumiki is. He remembers how she used to stretch their meager meals. To this day, he cannot perfectly recreate the warm kakitamajiru she'd made, powdered ginger, thin sliced scallion, white pepper. But she always could. She tells him there's no secret ingredient, but there has to be, if only that it's his sister's hands which made it.

That is not to say he cannot cook. He's good at following recipes. Gojo's more than once ruffled his hair in the morning, thanking him for the leftovers in the fridge (and despite his denial Gojo-san is picky). But it's never the same.

At first, you'd thought it was some weird, chauvinistic holdover and had been fully prepared to absolutely tear into Gojo about it. Megumi's a bit embarrassed about that (one of the few almost-fights he'd witnessed between the two of you), but he exhales softly as you wrap an arm around his shoulders, patting his hair as he leans against you in the kitchen.

You now think that it's funny, but it's also cute because when Megumi really wants to eat something that tastes better than mine, he'll do literally everything up to and including prep, and also dishes after.

He's young with time to learn, but it's considerate while also being sad. You do appreciate it, but before you all moved to campus, Megumi kept his own room tidy, made plenty of his own meals, avoided asking to do any kind of extracurricular which could cost you and Gojo either time or money. It was difficult to teach him to be a child and you'd never quite managed it with either Megumi or Tsumiki - both of them resistant to being taken care of, both of them too early acquainted with the reality that some people read care and saw burden.

Megumi leans against your shoulder as you stroke his hair, fluffy soft, a smile on your lips as you wait for a couple tomatoes to blanch.

You don't tell him he didn't have. You grin, remembering the adorable little growl he'd made last time. It's good to see him being a bit of a brat, comfortable with it.

"Thanks," you say instead, and he leans heavier for a second before standing straight, freeing your arm to dish out the tomatoes into a bowl. He even takes them to the sink, peeling the loosened skin, the mealy inner portion getting under his nails.

You are so grateful that Megumi has already sliced up the onions and put them in water just how you like them.

You're slicing the tomatoes into wedges, Megumi standing back at your shoulder like him watching you do this for the seventh time will finally give him the answer, when you start talking.

"You know, my mom used to make this for me. They've got a garden." Lots of people in the countryside have gardens. "And we got tons of tomatoes every year. And it doesn't matter how many times I make it. I think hers will always be better."

Megumi looks from your hands to your face and then slowly back again as you scrape the cut half up onto the flat of the knife and into a bowl and then start on a new one.

"She says the same thing about her parents' food," you smile. "Her dad's gyoza. She's very sure that filling is better than anything she ever made for us growing up."

The look on your face is so soft it makes Megumi's face warm and something comfortable-uncomfortable wanted-unwanted twist in his stomach.

You nudge him. "Save about a few slices for the salad?"

He nods and gets you another bowl to set the sliced tomato aside.

You set about putting together the rest of the meal while he trails behind. Blanching thinly sliced beef, pointing out what needed to be mixed for a gingery vinaigrette, stir frying tomatoes, eggs, onions, chicken, lotus roots, napa, noodles...

He mumbles an apology when his stomach growls as he's setting out two places. It's an awful lot of food for a night when Gojo-san isn't coming around, maybe he just had big eyes when he was pulling everything out.

You just laugh. "It's almost done. You can start, don't wait."

But he does, carrying plates from the counter to the table for you and giving you such a puppyish stare when you don't sit down fast enough it makes you abandon wiping down a spot of flour to pull off your apron an sit across from him.

"itadakimasu," he murmurs, politely pressing his palms together as you do the same.

He closes his eyes a little longer than necessary to savor.

"Yours still tastes better."

If you could reach him, you're pretty sure you'd be happily making his hair even more of a mess than it already is right now. There's a secret, complicated look on your face, although he's sure it's mostly happy. And in the end you just say,

"Thanks, Megumi."

"Mm," he replies, holding out his bowl as you offer him another spoonful of noodles.

#myy oc #fushiguro megumi #we like to parent lonely kids in this house #io.myy #apparently the more stressed I am (in certain ways) the more I will write 🪦#food is love #fushiguro megumi x reader #platonic character x reader #parent reader

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hmshermitcraft · 7 months ago

Note

Etho has been out of spoons for months now. He has no energy to do anything at all outside of working (because he has to) or eating (because he has to) or showering (because he has to) or using the bathroom (because he has to). He wants to hang out with his friends, he yearns for their conversation and bickering and their energetic bits but he can't. He just rests and rests and rests, waiting for the day he has inspiration and strength again.

He's so sick of being weak, of being tired. There's no joy in his endless napping, he just can't do anything else.

Cleo leaves food in his fridge and takes his trash out and refills his water bottle so he can take his meds at night.

Bdubs comes in every other day to brush his hair and brings him a bucket so he can brush his teeth.

The worst thing is that he gets up every morning, he works on his projects, he talks to people, he's normal, he's healthy. But then the moment he can relax he collapses and can't get up again. He uses all his energy and he can't go on. Which doesn't make any sense because why can't he have energy for the things he wants?

He's just...so tired.

Xisuma catches him while he's out and about, doing things. Says, "hey, you've been working too hard and it's making you use all your free time to catch up on rest." He takes Etho to a town an hour away from work, from everything. "This is my parents summer home, they won't be back for like, nine months. So it's yours for now, utilities n' stuff are paid so don't worry about that."

Then he offers to leave. Says that he'll stay close-ish to bring Etho food and all, but he offers to give Etho as much alone time as he could ever want.

"I know you like your own company better than anyone else's and I prefer to recoup by myself too so it's no worries."

"no uh, actually. If you would stay..that'd be preferable I think."

For the first days Etho sleeps and sleeps and sleeps, he wakes up, eats and uses the bathroom and then he sleeps again.

Then he migrates to the couch to listen to Xisuma knit or play guitar, then he's breaking out his noise cancelling headphones so he can watch X play doom until the early morning sunrise. Then he's asking to help with dinner, something that resets his progress a little bit he's quicker to bounce back.

Xisuma takes him for a little walk one week. Then two little walks, then they stop in at a coffee shop, then Etho sits in the shopping cart reading out the list. Their friends start to visit, Bdubs and Beef and Doc come for a night of super smash bros and Mario kart, Cleo comes over and plays some Zelda breath of the wild, zedaph tango skizz and impulse bring a board game he's never heard of before. Etho even gets to gossip in Japanese with Grian and Joel about everyone he's seen living here, like the dog walker who always has far too many dogs.

Then Xisuma miscalculates how long it will take a comforter to dry and asks to share Etho's space for a night. Which they do. Etho wakes with X's legs under his own because apparently Xisuma likes to rotate 90 degrees in his sleep.

Xisuma will never live it down, even as they continue to sleep side by side.

By the time Etho is yearning for something to do they've started cuddling, and by the time Xisuma deems him healthy enough to go back to work they're kissing a little.

Work is easier when he returns, he works four days a week instead of six. He has a boyfriend who leaves space for him to join in making dinner or going on little walks or whatever but never pressures him. He has extra energy to do things he enjoys.

He's not perfect, he still naps every day, still gets overwhelmed. But it's better.

He's doing better.

-carrie

He thought he'd find it frustrating to be cared for, like it's something he doesn't deserve. But, instead, it's a weight off his shoulders. It's not just him anymore. Xisuma is looking out for him as well, gently pulling Etho away when he's burning out again. His friends are there as well.

Etho isn't perfect. But he's got people there to stop him reaching so low again.

#hermitshipping #ask #etho tag #xisuma tag #ethosuma #carrie anon #mod 🎀

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paperweight91 · 1 year ago

Note

Ok, Chelsea, what about this?

You just got back from staying with family over the holidays. When you go to make yourself some dinner you realize your cupboards are bare. So you rush out for an emergency grocery run. But oh no! When you get to the register, you realize you forgot your wallet. Luckily, there's a good samaritan in line behind you who offers to pay for your food.

Who is it?

Are they feeling generous or do they make you pay them back somehow??

Breakdown, Aisle 3

W/C:1012

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

A/N: Okay so I had two immediate thoughts pop into my head for this, and in an amazing show of restraint I only did one of them. (Yes I’m patting myself on the back) but I have to say this is such a fun prompt that I feel like it could have gone soooo many different ways. I hope you like it lovely ☺️ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Your chest heaved on an exhale as you finally got on the highway. Christmas was always your favourite time of year, but your family was stressful to put it nicely. Knowing that you were just an hour away from home was enough to have you feeling so, so relaxed. You cranked up the radio to keep you awake on the drive and coasted home.

You came into your apartment feeling lighter, but also starving. That ravenous hunger that would only ever hit when you had pushed yourself for far too long without eating. Throwing your purse on the island, where it skidded across and fell off the other side making you huff. That was a later you problem, food first. You turned on a house flipping show for some background noise and started to look through your cabinets. Nothing. You checked your fridge. Not even milk.

Smacking your forehead you remembered why, donating a bunch of non-perishables for the holidays and throwing out your entire fridge before going to your parents maybe wasn’t the best idea you had. You groaned and stomped your foot, why you?

Collecting your purse off the floor you raced back down to the parking garage. You would pick up enough for dinner and something for breakfast before doing full groceries tomorrow. You went to the closest supermarket, a little on the higher end, but it would be fine for one night.

You made a beeline for the frozen food section, letting out a sad noise when nothing appealed to you. Maybe it was a snacks for dinner kind of night. A new plan in mind you grabbed all of your favourite snacks, and a few treats. You also grabbed a nice fresh loaf of French bread something you would rarely get just for yourself. Happy with your haul, you made your way to the barren checkout line.

Unloading your cart, you heard a huff behind you. Glancing up to see a striking man, with only one item. He was clean shaven with bright blue eyes, his hair swept back just so. He was glaring at the conveyer belt, a hand on his hip. You sighed, your hunger could wait for this impatient man, “do you want to go first?” As the question left your lips you heard the beep of your first item being scanned.

He rolled his eyes, and waved his hand dismissively. “Seems like it’s not an option now.”

Feeling heat in your face, you turned back to unloading as quickly as you could. Of course you would piss off the only stranger you run into in the supermarket. You rushed to bag your items, thankful you at least remembered your bags.

“That’ll be $85.50” the cashier looked so bored, you almost forgot they were there.

You pulled your purse up, rummaging through. Your movements got more urgent as your fingers kept missing the familiar square of your wallet. “No. No, no, no!”

The man behind you huffed again. “Really?”

You turned to him, panic written clearly across your face, causing his expression to morph from irritation to concern. Tears beaded in your eyes as you continued what you knew now was a wasteful search. “My, my wallet. It’s not…” you covered your face with your hands. You were so hungry. The stupid thing must be laying on your floor somewhere.

The stranger sighed this time, passing his lone box of cookies to the cashier, “Add this to the bill.” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and quickly paid for the entire haul.

“Put the cart away.” His tone was soft, but it was clearly an order as he picked up all of your bags, tossing his cookies on top of on haphazardly. You stood in shock for a moment before he rolled his eyes at you and pointed at the cart. You jumped and quickly grabbed the cart, wheeling it back to the front of the store and putting it back in neatly. You heard a snort behind you.

Turning to glare at the haughty stranger, you found yourself softening as he gripped your grocery bags. You nodded and lead him out of the store towards your car. You popped the trunk, and he placed your bags carefully in the back. “Thank you,” you murmured. “I’m sorry about all that, I can’t believe I left my wallet at home.”

He closed your trunk, and leaned with one hand on the vehicle. He took in your full appearance. Starting from the old running shoes you had thrown on before leaving the house, coming all the way up to your hair, which you had thrown into a quick bun. “It’s nothing.” He said quietly. His petulant attitude seemed to have been left in the store.

“It’s not!” You’re quick to reply, “I just got back from spending the most exhausting visit with my family. And realized I was the idiot who decided to clean out my fridge before leaving. And then you swoop in to save me!”

The man still leaning against your, now has a road grin spreading across his face. “Ransom.” He says only that one word and you realize it’s his name. You give him yours and hold out your hand.

He takes your hand in a firm grasp. Not shaking, just holding. Your lashes flutter as you look up at him. “Would you maybe want to join me for a late night snack?” You’ve never done this before, what were you doing?

Ransom smirks and chortles slightly at your horror at your own words. “Well it’s the least you could do, since I did in fact buy it all.” He winked at you and you felt butterflies take off in your stomach. “Besides, I now need to know why your family is so exhausting. Because mine will make your head spin.” You laughed and reached back into your purse taking out your phone. The two of you exchanged numbers, and you texted him your address.

Maybe forgetting your wallet at home wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #breakddown aisle 3 #knives out #chris evans #krirebr #paperweightanswers #paperweight drabbles

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mrs-johansson · 1 year ago

Text

Strangers in the night - Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Part 19:

“Hey, guys,” heard Scarlett’s voice at the front door. I smoothed out my dress and my hair before waking out of the kitchen. “What a beautiful house,” I’m guessing that was her mom. “Right? She has great taste,” oh she’s hyping me up.

They all walked in, her three brothers and two sisters with their parents. “Hi,” I said nervously with a smile. Scarlett swiftly moved to my side, wrapping an arm around my waist. Her mom was the first to come up to me and she had a smile on her face which seemed genuine and kind. “I want you guys to meet my girlfriend, Y/n, but you probably know her already,” said Scarlett. “Of course we do. It’s so nice to meet you, darling. I’m Melanie,” I held out my hand but she moved to hug me. “Oh yeah, that’s better,” I chuckled as I hugged her back. Scar’s hand still lingered on my lower back making it really hard to focus on her MOTHER. “Y/n!” Rose came running from the living room then she realized her family was there. And she still came to me, holding her hands up. I picked her up and she looked at her relatives. “Hi,” she said with a big smile. “Everything okay in the living room?” I asked and she nodded. “I just want more juice.” “How about after dinner? You can have more of that tomato bread,” I brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “Okay,” she sighed and leaned her head on my shoulder.

Scarlett’s dad was the next person who introduced himself and damn he was tall. “Hello, I’m Karsten,” he held out his hand. “Y/n, nice to meet you,” I said and shook his hand. “Hi, Grandpa!” Rose excitedly greeted the man before they high-fived.

I met each of her siblings, and I wouldn’t have thought Hunter and Scarlett would look so much alike. “Shall we go to the table?” Asked Scarlett and they all agreed. She settled them in and I left to the kitchen with Rose still on my side. “Don’t you want to be with them?” I sat her on the counter just until I got the drink out of the fridge. “No. I want to stay with you.” “Go in there, I’ll bring the food out,” Scarlett walked in. “You can’t leave me with them, I just met them,” I spread my arms. “And they already think you’re the nicest person,” she left a kiss on my cheek. “Mama?” Spoke Rose. “Yes, baby?” Scarlett opened the fridge. “Y/n is my mama too?” My mouth fell open and I glanced at Scarlett. We shared a look before she stood by my side. “Uhm…” She started. “Would you like… that?” Scarlett cleared her throat, nervous even to look at me. “Yes!” She clapped her hands and I swear I had tears in my eyes. “Okay, okay… Why don’t you see what Uncle Hunter is doing?” She took her off the counter and she happily walked out.

“I’m sorry, this was so sudden…” Scarlett started to apologize but I didn’t let her finish instead I wrapped her in the biggest hug. “Oh okay…” She chuckled, hugging me back. “She is the cutest kid, you don’t have to be sorry about anything,” I could feel a tear sliding down my cheek. “I’m so happy she feels happy with you. I still have to talk with Romain though. And thank you for being her new mommy I guess,” she pulled back taking hold of my hands, kissing my knuckles. “It’s the biggest honor.”

We brought in the appetizer and some wine, put Rose into her chair and we started chatting. “I already said to Scarlett, you have a very lovely home Y/n,” said Melanie, and I smiled. “Thank you. One of my architect friends designed everything. “It’s pretty great work,” Karsten looked around. “Thanks,” I said.

The prosciutto quickly disappeared and a bottle of wine was shared between most of us.

I brought out the main dish and everyone was happy to see beef roast with crispy baked potatoes and some different veggies. “Wow this looks amazing,” Scarlett mumbled to herself and I smiled at the sparkling look in her eyes. I got some on Rose’s plate and cut up the meat and the potatoes. “Thank you,” she said as soon as I put the plate in front of her. “You’re welcome.”

“So how did you two meet? Scarlett only told us about a mystery woman,” Hunter smiled at his sister. “We accidentally bumped into each other around November last year,” Scarlett said. “I still think it wasn’t an accident on Scarlett’s side though,” I shrugged with a cheeky smile. “Okay… That’s… Alright, it wasn’t a full accident,” I turned my head toward her and honestly I was shocked that she admitted it. “But we talked for a couple of months after that and then I finally asked her out,” smiled my amazingly beautiful girlfriend.

They asked me all sorts of questions and I was happy to answer all of them. I had nothing to hide from her family and I wanted them to know that I love Scarlett with all my heart. And also Rose.

Later in the night after they left and we put Rose to bed, we cleaned up the kitchen. “How do you think it went?” I asked Scarlett as she put the clean plates away. “Couldn’t have gone better. They love you for sure,” she said and I smiled. “That’s great.”

I finished everything and I got the bottle of wine that was half empty. Poured into two glasses and sat on the counter. Scarlett wiped her hands and took one of the glasses and stood between my legs. Her left hand rested on my thigh, caressing the exposed skin. “Dinner was nice, if you get bored of this acting thing you could be a chef,” she said and took a sip of her wine. I chuckled at her words and shook my head. “Hopefully I don’t get bored of this.” “Yeah, I kinda hope that too,” she shrugged and downed the whole glass of liquor. “Wow, wine is not for thirst you know,” I said and she put the glass down, her hands going straight to my waist. She pulled me closer, my legs sneaking around her waist. “You look good,” she leaned close, her eyes looking between mine and my lips. “I taste good too,” I gave a kiss just on the edge of her mouth. Her pupils were wide and the way her jaw clenched just drove me crazy. Scarlett never held back the lust she felt and not gonna lie that was incredibly hot. My hands trailed up her arms right to her neck. I put my glass down from my other hand and started to slowly massage the back of her neck. “I hope you’ll be like this even when we’re 50,” Scarlett murmured, the tension just growing and growing. “You don’t have to worry about that,” I finally pulled her into a kiss, deepening it immediately.

Scarlett squeezed my waist, the fabric of my dress tightening around me as she fisted it. The kiss soon becomes sloppy and desperate. She pulled the dress up to the top of my thighs and I swiftly pushed myself up and she rolled up the dress from under me. I pulled away and Scarlett was desperate to remove my dress, throwing it to the floor.

Scarlett’s eyes fell to my breast and before I could think she started kissing all over my chest. A quiet sigh fell from my lips and I tilted my head back so she could have more access. “I love you so much,” she mumbled against my skin and soon started sucking on my pulse. My breath hitched as I tried to speak but I forced it out tho. “I love you too.”

I looked down at her breathlessly as her eyes met mine just before she took a tit into her warm mouth. I gasped and my hands moved on their own accord, slipping fingers through her hair as she sucked and lightly trailed her teeth over my right tit before moving onto the left. I was trying my best to be as quiet as possible but it was very fucking hard.

I grabbed her left hand and pushed it between my legs, hoping she would get the message.

And thank god she did, because her fingers found the hem of my underwear and literally ripped it off, throwing it to the dress. I groaned and threw my head back. “Be quiet.” She demanded and I just leaned my forehead against her shoulder, whimpering under her touch.

She swiftly laid me down on the counter, pulling me to the edge of it by my thighs. Planted kisses along my thigh before her tongue licks a long stripe over my slit. I grabbed onto the edge of the marble counter, gripping it till my knuckles turned white.

Her eyes remain on me as she explores every inch of me with her tongue. I threw my head back when she sucked on my clit a bit before pulling away.

I looked down and met Scarlett's lust-blown eyes as she sticks her ring and middle fingers into her mouth to coat them in saliva before slowly easing them into me. My back arched against the counter, feeling my muscles tightening. “Fucking hell,” I groaned. She lowered herself to take my clit back between her lips, sucking as she stimulated with curling her fingers.

And then it hit me. I felt like I’m gonna break the counter from how hard I was holding on to it. My thighs naturally tried to close up but Scarlett forced them apart, the muscles flexing on her biceps. “Come, baby, come” she whined and that’s all I needed to push me over the edge. My body was shaking while Scarlett lapped up every drop. I swear to go I don’t ever want anyone else to do this to me if it’s not her. She gives me earth-shattering orgasms and I fucking love them.

I breathed heavily, trying to find a normal rhythm. “You okay?” Scarlett’s soft hands slid up my thighs and stopped on my hips. “Honestly?” I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes. “I feel like I'm in heaven.”

***

The next day Scarlett insisted on cooking and my parents and Léa were happy to finally meet her. Mostly my dad though.

They asked kind of the same questions from her and I just basically fell more and more in love with her. She was literally perfect, yes she was stubborn and sometimes thinking that she’s the only one who’s right but we can look past that.

Everyone went amazing and I was just happy that they know how joyful my life is because of her and Rose. My mother was surprised that Rose and I got along so well but I guess it didn’t help how much she pressured me into having kids soon.

Later that night we were laying in bed, watching Dateline as usual. “So our 6 months is gonna be this Saturday and I thought I could post then. What do you think of these?” I showed her two pictures and she nodded. “Nice.” “You sure you’re okay with this?” I asked, leaning against her front and she wrapped an arm around me. “Yes, and I’m gonna say yes every time you ask.” “Okay, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable with all this social media think. Besides, after that I’m still only going to post your pinky or something, but like… you know if there’s like a picture that I think everyone needs to see, I don’t know… us at a premier or something. We need to think about these. You don’t have social media, so I’d like to hear your thoughts.” “Whatever you want,” she said and I looked up at her. “Scar, I’m serious.” “So am I. As long as I don’t have to do all this technical stuff, I’m great,” she gave a kiss on my forehead and went back to watching the show. “Well yeah, you’re not the best at that,” I mumbled with a smirk, and the next thing I knew she punched my side, making me jump a little. “You know I’m right.” “I guess you could say that.”

***

Liked by chrisevans and 10 356 289 others

y/n_cole: my love, you’re all I’ve wished for in this life❤️ everything is better with you. everything is better since you. i will never forget the moment I realized i love you and I’m the happiest that our paths crossed in this crazy world. I love you endlessly✨ 6 months and counting🤍

chrisevans I’m the happiest for you two❤️

y/n_cole way too obsessed with the idea😆

florencepugh biggest power couple in Hollywood hands down💁‍♀️

y/n_cole speaking facts there!

sarcjo_for_life deep down we all knew Scarlett was fruity… I’m just happy Y/n is her girl🔥

#gxg #scarlett johansson smut #Scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett johansson imagines

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yandecifi · 1 month ago

Text

What It Means to Be Made of Stardust

☆ chapter eight

⋆ masterlist

⋆ cw: child abuse, sa, mental illness

hawks/reader, psychological, wip longfic

There are days you spend sitting outside your apartment door, school bag at your side, leaning against the concrete walls. Or maybe you’re laying on your stomach as you work on your homework, legs kicking in the air, elbows perching you up and scraping against the ground. Your neighbors walk past occasionally. Some say hi, some glance at you and turn away.

Dad asks you what you’re doing, laying on the ground outside his apartment, because it’s weird. It’s embarrassing. What’s he doing letting his kid roll around outside with all the neighbors watching? They’ll judge him and think he’s a bad father. And, what, do you hate him or something? Why can’t you just sit inside like somebody normal, talk to him, ask him how his day was? You’re so thoughtless, so rude. Why’s he been given a child like you?

You sit at the dinner table with your homework spread out. Your knees knock together as they jostle, your blood is fizzing up like soda. Dad wanders through the kitchen.

“I love you, you know that?”

“Uh-huh.”

Dad pulls something out of the fridge. A beer, probably, but the air has turned sour. The words on your homework start to fuzz.

“You know what that means?”

“Um, haha, maybe.”

“I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to go through what I have, I’m not going to do to you what my parents did to me.”

“I - um, okay.”

He’s silent for a beat. Your fingers tremble, your knees still, you can’t even swallow.

“And, you don’t know this yet,” he starts again, “but most people don’t mean it like I do. To other people, throughout my life, it means -- it means, ‘I want something from you, and saying I love you is how I’ll get it’. You haven’t experienced that, so you don’t get it, I know -- but you’ll meet people like that. Most people are like that.”

“Can I just do my homework?”

It’s quiet except for the buzzing in your head.

And then, Dad slams his hands on the kitchen countertop and the whole thing snaps like a taut rubber band — you’re jumping up and bolting out the door. It’s only a moment before he’s on your heels, skidding around the corners of the apartment stairwell with you, shouting and screaming at you from the parking lot.

But you’re already halfway to the moon, the air hot in your lungs, your feet a blur beneath you. Moments like these are the closest you can get to flying — when you’re running who knows where, too fast for him to catch.

Your favorite nights were spent outside with stolen chips and coke. The grin you had sitting on some bench and popping those cans open, licking the salt from your fingers, was bigger than any bruise.

☆

The sky is blue.

You’re laying in the grass with your classmates. It’s one of campus’s many lawns, all well kept and green despite winter creeping in. Grass tickles your arms and ankles with every twitch. It smells freshly cut. Your jeans are probably stained green.

It’s Mina and the rest of her usual group that’s sitting with you. They’re sitting in a circle, cross-legged and yapping. They’re eating fast food: neon slushies and tacos. You snorted your pain meds.

Clouds float far above you and yet you’re right there with them. You reach your hand out and grab at them.

“Girl, you tryna be all main character or something?”

You roll your head over at Mina and her friends. Mina grins down at you between bites and slurps. Bakugo’s glaring at you. Kirishima doesn’t meet your eye. Denki keeps talking with Sero like you aren’t there.

You roll right on back to the sky.

“Girl?”

“Mhm?”

“Where’ve you been, lately?”

“Living with Aizawa.”

“I -- yeah, I know. I mean, like, ummm, even when you’re with us, you’re not.”

“Uhhhhh.” You shut your eyes as you force yourself to sit up. Your brain feels full of blood, hot, sloshing. Everything tingles. You rub your face. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

“Oh. Want some of my baja?”

“No, no. Thanks, though.” The grass is spray paint green. You blink. “The sky is really pretty.”

Mina giggles like she always does, eyes crinkling up in the corners, cheeks round and strained with her smile. You’ve never met anybody as happy as her. She has to be lying.

“It’s even prettier with some baja and tacos!”

You stare at the chemically colored slush in her hand. It’s as stupidly green as the grass. You lean over and slurp from the straw. The cold meets your tongue and it tingles, weirdly enough. You swallow and lay back down and you smile.

“That tasted like chemicals, Mina.”

“Bitch, be so for fucking real. I’ve seen you take edibles like they’re candy. And I’m not even gonna start with the drunk vaping.”

“Okay, okay.” You swat Mina’s offering of more baja away. “It definitely tasted better than any edible I’ve had.”

“Damn straight.”

Mina shuffles over to you and then collapses in the grass at your side, joining you in cloud gazing. She sluuuurps.

You side eye Mina. She notices. You grin. She grins. She wriggles closer until you’re both practically touching noses.

“What?” She whispers, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I snorted my meds,” you whisper back.

Mina blinks. She opens her mouth to say something. She closes it. Her smile falters. She looks away. She looks back at you. Her face contorts in confusion and she sits up a little.

“You what?”

You remain very still. “I’m joking.”

“No the fuck you aren’t.”

“I am.”

“Show me your eyes.”

“No.”

“Show me --”

“No!”

“If you don’t --”

“No!”

“Fine!”

Mina lays back down with a huff, arms crossed. The boys are staring at the two of you. You flip them off. They all exchange glances and Mina yanks your arm down.

“Girl, what?” Mina turns so that the two of you are nose-to-nose again. You smile. “Weed, getting drunk, and the occasional pen is one thing. Snorting random pills is another. What were you thinking? How much did you take?”

“They’re not random, I was prescribed them --”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Sorry.” You swallow. “I don’t know, I just crushed one of the pills on my desk and snorted it. I don’t know why.”

“Nobody does shit like that just because. Why?”

“I really, honestly don’t know. I guess I just wanted to see if things would change.”

“The stuff with your Dad?”

“No, I mean, I know nothing’s changing that. I just mean… I don’t know.”

“Your depression?”

You squint. The pamphlet and the conversation in her room flashes through your mind.

“I guess? I’m not, like, diagnosed with that, though.”

“I feel like we’re past that point.”

“I don’t know.” You find yourself staring into her eyes, searching, looking at the person there. This one is new. “I’m sorry.”

Mina gives you something like a smile. She doesn’t look right unhappy.

“It’s okay. Just know I’m always here to talk, okay? And can you please promise me you won’t mess with your meds again? I’ll literally buy you alc if you don’t.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Her eyes are pretty like amber in the sunlight. “You don’t have to buy me alc.”

Mina lays on top of you in a dogpile-esque hug. You wrap your arms around her torso and, despite feeling like you’re being crushed, you also feel like you’re being loved. The two often seem to be intertwined.

“Mina?”

“Yeah?”

“I just feel like I’m in some sort of limbo.”

“What? Like, the game?”

“No, what?” You laugh and she moves with your chest. “Like the space between heaven and hell. But like it’s not Earth.”

“...”

“Like where ghosts are? I’m wherever the ghosts are.”

“Okay.” She raises her head to look at you. “Do you mean this as in wanting to…?”

“No, no, not like that! I’m just in some kind of in between. I’m stuck.”

“You don’t feel real?”

You blink. “Yeah.”

Kirishima all of a sudden jumps up and starts screaming and waving at somebody. You and Mina sit up to see Aizawa on the sidewalk a little ways away, a group of first years on his heels.

“Oh. I thought he didn’t come to campus on weekends?” Mina slides off of you to sit properly, watching your teacher all the while.

“He’s the chaperone for the martial arts club.”

Aizawa waves at all of you. You fester.

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

Leaning against the hood of Aizawa’s car, you realize you don’t know how you got here.

You zip your jacket up to your chin, burrow yourself in it. You want to drink something. Or smoke. Or sleep.

“Had a picnic with your friends?”

Aizawa strolls up to you with his own jacket on, black and baggy. You hop up, stare at the zipper, the wrinkles.

The wind bites at your cheeks and you fidget with the hood you’re wearing to cover the st--

“Did you have fun?” Aizawa blinks at you from beneath his mess of hair.

You murmur something in the affirmative.

Aizawa nods slowly, like he’s going to say more. He doesn’t. You both get in the car.

When the two of you get to his house, Aizawa makes tea. He asks you to sit down at the dinner table and if you like English breakfast. He’s not really asking.

When your teacher sits next to you, fragrant black swirling in both your mugs, you start to huff uncomfortably. Your skin is too tight around your throat. Aizawa clears his own.

“How are your sessions with Hound Dog?”

You shrug, rub your neck, stare at your lap.

“Do they help,” he elaborates, pushing, staring, “at all?”

“Sure.”

“Sure?”

You cross your arms. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“The truth. Be honest.”

He says it like it’s easy.

Something touches your feet from beneath the table. You lean back and it’s Kitty skulking about, tail slithering past your ankle.

“Oh, he likes you.” Aizawa chuckles. “How unusual.”

You stare at your teacher while he watches Kitty. The blemishes, wrinkles, and scars on his face, the beard he can’t seem to grow nor get rid of, the smile you’ve hardly seen in your three years of knowing him. His eyes flick to yours. You take a sip of tea.

“Principal Nedzu informed me of his decision regarding your enrollment.”

You shift in your seat. “Okay.”

“Because you can’t keep up with tuition for the foreseeable future, we’ve decided to drop you as a student for the time being.” Aizawa says, careful, all sugar coated and pretty. “There are scholarships we have that can help cover the costs, but your grades aren’t within the competitive range.”

You can’t even hear your heartbeat anymore. It’s just the crumbling.

“My recommendation is to work through your current situation and health issues before continuing with herowork.”

Your current situation? Your health issues? This situation is your entire life. Your ‘health’ issues are ingrained in you as deeply as the ability to walk or breathe.

You turn eighteen in a couple of months and Aizawa won’t have to house you anymore. Then again, that might not end up being a problem.

“What if my Dad gets let out?” You try, palming your cup of tea. “I’ll get him to pay for it. I will.”

Aizawa leans forward in his seat. “As far as I can tell, he’s going to go to prison. They have witnesses and the evidence is all there. And the fact you’re about to turn into an adult means they’re not worried about displacing a child.”

Your neighbors called the cops with every other screaming match you had and all you ever got out of it was a beating. You went to school smelling like garbage, you slept outside, you had bruises. Does anybody know how badly you wanted somebody to just say something back then? Why didn’t they? Why now?

You already moved on. You were fine, you were handling everything fine, you had a fucking life for once, you were making something of yourself despite everything. You did this all yourself. This was yours, not your father’s, and they’re still taking it away from you.

You stare at your palms, the calluses, the scars.

“But, it’s not my fault.”

Aizawa’s as surreal and still as always. “I know.”

Your skin prickles with the black outside that broad, glass wall. The chair you’re sitting in creaks as you lean back in it, a lump in your throat. Your fingers tap on the table, quick. You watch them drum like little soldiers, like rain.

☆

Your dorm is empty except for your desk, bed, and chair.

You stuffed your bedsheets into yet another trash bag. You threw all your clothes into two others. Everything else, all your knick-knacks and snacks and school stuff, are jumbled together in the garbage bag you’re hauling towards the dumpster. Is your vomit still there, or has a week already gone by?

Every night on Aizawa’s couch, you wake up to your father’s footsteps. When you hone in on the sound, you hear him muttering. You shut your eyes tight and tell yourself it’s not real, but what if it is? You told yourself the same thing when it was.

You throw your garbage into the dumpster and something shatters. You turn around and walk away.

It’s the weekend and Mina and her friends are nowhere to be found. You’d usually bump into them in the elevator by now, or the commons, or by walking around campus, or they’d come find you -- but today there’s nothing. You haven’t told them you’re leaving yet.

They’ve been talking about you, you’re certain of it. Every time you meet up with them they give each other odd looks or sneak glances at you like there’s something on your face. Hawks was right.

You drag the rest of your shit from your dorm to the elevator. You press the first floor and wait as you travel down, down, down. The doors open. You hold one trash bag in each hand and kick the final one out the elevator and into the commons, keep kicking it forward every couple of steps. So, this is what all of your efforts have come to.

You kick the bag through the front door. The star Altair is seventeen light years away, which means you’re still in the womb there, that nothing bad has happened to you.

You kick the bag down the steps. Your mother’s in the air, somewhere, and even then you’ve probably never breathed her.

You kick the bag down the sidewalk. People take parts of you and then leave to places where you can’t find them.

You kick the bag down the sidewalk. Why couldn’t the two of you have had just one more meaningless conversation?

You kick the bag down the sidewalk. Does she think about you when she folds her clothes?

You kick the bag down the sidewalk. It’s about the oranges she peeled for you.

You kick the bag down the sidewalk. She never even told you why.

“Fuck’re you doing?”

You jerk your head up to see Bakugo standing in front of you, narrowed eyes flitting from each trash bag to your crumpled face.

“Taking out the trash.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Can you just leave me alone?” You snap, making your way around him with some extra kicks. He turns to watch you do each one.

“What, did you dismember someone or something?” Bakugo snatches the bag from your feet, falling into step with you.

“No.” You trudge along, trash bags swinging awkwardly in your hands. “I don’t need help.”

“Yeah, well, you looked retarded.”

“You can’t say that.”

“I think the retards out there would give me a pass if they saw you.”

“Bakugo!” You laugh, the urge to smack him on the arm squashed by your bags. “Seriously?”

He cracks a smile. “What? It’s true.”

You sigh. “Where is everybody?”

“Ramen.” Bakugo looks at you funny. “It’s Sunday.”

You stare at him before snapping your gaze back to your feet. “Right.”

“You really need to start coming to those.”

You count cracks in the concrete. “You’re here, too.”

“I don’t skip every week, idiot.” He looks around. “We’re going to the parking lot?”

“Uh, yeah.” You jog down the steps leading to the lot, walk along the sidewalk until you reach Aizawa’s car. “You can go.”

Bakugo sets your trash bag down on the ground. “Isn’t that Mr. Aizawa’s car?”

“Who knows.” You put your bags down as well, sit on the curb. “Thanks for carrying my bag.”

Bakugo stands there for a moment. Then, he opens the bag he was carrying, rummages through it.

“What the fuck?” He pulls out one of your shirts and holds it out to you, like he needs to show you the evidence. “You’re moving out?”

You hug your knees to your chest, rest your chin on them.

“Hello? Can I get a fucking answer?”

“Yeah, I fucking am, alright? I’m dropping out.”

Bakugo gawks at you. Like, genuinely, mouth open and brows pinched like you told him to go kill himself.

He swings his arms in loud gestures. “Fuck you mean, dropping out? We graduate in two months!”

“Yeah, I know.” Your jaw clenches. Your brain is thick with something, slime, soju. “I don’t have a choice, okay? My Dad’s gonna go to jail, I can’t afford tuition anymore.”

“They have scholarships, mine’s basically full-ride—”

“Okay, good for fucking you!”

You shift uncomfortably on the curb. A peek at Bakugo shows he’s standing there with clenched fists, feet shifting.

“What is it with you?” He grinds out. “You flip like a goddamn switch. You’re sweet as hell one second, having me thinking I’m okay with rotting my teeth off, and then you act like you can’t stand me. You act like we didn’t make out for two hours and spend the night in your room ‘cuz you begged me not to leave.”

You’re going to rip out your esophagus.

“I was drunk.” It’s creeping up your shoulders, going up your shirt. “I—“ Your brow pinches— “I was drunk.”

“Oh, fuck off, you were tipsy at most.”

“So what?” You glare up at him. Something isn’t right. “It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Bakugo’s nose wrinkles. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah, I am.” Something isn’t right. “What, you think I’m easy or something?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about! I mean, you tried to get with me the day after I got out of the hospital, like, are you fucking for real?”

“I wasn’t trying anything, you came onto me!”

“Oh, shut up! Just go make one of your fucking smoothies or something.”

Something isn’t right. You huff. Bakugo’s nostrils flare as he stomps towards you, crouches to your level, and grips you by the shoulders.

It’s loud, blaring, and riddled with curses. His fingers are bruising. You frown, shake your head, shake and shake.

You were drunk. But, you’d already told yourself that that didn’t matter, didn’t you?

Glass shatters and you shriek. You cover your face, drop to your knees, but Aizawa is already helping you up.

Something isn’t right. You’re standing with Aizawa in his kitchen. Eri is hiding behind the dinner table.

The glass crunches beneath your feet as you take a step back. Aizawa winces, urges you to calm down, but what if this is like the sounds you hear at night?

Is any of this real? Was that a dream? Is this a dream? What if you’re still bleeding out in the stairwell?

Eri isn’t behind the table anymore. You’re lying on the couch with a blanket over you, the TV flashing with Sailor Moon. Instead of your father’s footsteps, Hawks retches from the next room over.

#fanfic #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #angst #hawks fanfic #hawks x reader

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hannahssimblr · 1 year ago

Text

Jen sits on the deck outside the beach house when I come down the wooden steps, and she eyes my shopping bag.

“Got everything?”

“Yep.”

“Enough snacks for me too?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, are you ready to go? Shane and Joe are waiting-”

“Yeah just a sec,” I nip up the stairs and push through the front door, and my dad is where he’s been all day, looking at his laptop at the kitchen table. He barely glances up.

“Where have you been?”

“Around.”

His keyboard is the only sound aside from Ivy, murmuring to her dolls in the living room below. I throw the plastic bag onto the counter and start stacking a few things into the fridge. “I noticed Ivy was out of yoghurts,” I say, “I picked up more for her to have tomorrow.”

Dad says nothing.

“And I borrowed your credit card, I assume that’s okay.”

“Hm?”

“Your credit card. I took it.”

“Mm. Hope you didn’t drop it somewhere and lose it.”

“No,” I slide it out of my wallet and place it on the table, “There it is, safe and sound.”

I go back to the fridge and hide a chocolate bar behind a jar of mayonnaise for Ivy, then grab one of dad’s beers and slip it into my old schoolbag. He doesn’t seem to notice so I swipe another.

He leans back in the chair and stretches his arms with a grunt. “Did you get food for dinner tonight?”

“I'm not making dinner, I've plans.”

“Plans?”

“Yeah I’m going camping in the forest. I told you this morning,” I point lamely at the sleeping bag I left by the door.

“I’m not sure that you did.”

“I did, definitely.”

“Well I think I’m gonna need you to stick around, things are just too busy around here today.”

“Where’s mom?”

“Uh, the hotel I think. She said she was getting some sorta massage.”

“Maybe after her massage she can cook, because as I’ve said, I’m busy tonight.”

“She might be a while.”

I stiffen. “Well then get a takeaway.”

He peers at me over the rim of his reading glasses and sighs this long, world weary sigh that makes me feel like rolling my eyes. “It’d just be convenient if you stayed.”

“Yeah I know, but I’m not available.”

“I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you help out a little at home, I know that you think you can just do whatever you want because you’re on vacation but it’s just not gonna like that for-”

“Yeah I get it, but I’m not going to be here tonight. One night. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I thought you might have grown out of this teenage stuff by now, Jude, this whole moodswing thing, you know, when I was sixteen I was already-”

“Working in an ice cream parlour and bringing in your own money, I know,” I grit my teeth, “and I’m sorry about not doing the same, but-”

“- and you know, you really were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, if my parents knew that I’d raised-”

I snatch up my bags and leave the door swinging behind me.

As Jen watches me as I storm down the stairs the corner of her mouth twitches up. “You’re a bit red around the ears,” she points out, “Did you get into it again with Christopher?”

I hop down from the deck and haul my bike from the sand. “Let’s just go.”

After meeting Shane and Joe in the village we swing by the Boat Club to pick up Clóda.

“Oh you’re cycling,” She says as she shakes her hair free of her high bun, “I didn’t bring a bike.”

I glance at her empty hands. “Or a sleeping bag? Or food?”

A shrug, “No.”

“You can share with me then,” I say, and I’d usually have done a much better job at being smooth, but instead my words come out sharp and impatient, and then I feel guilty when I catch sight of her wavering smile as she clambers onto the handlebars of my bicycle.

“Hope you had a nice day so far,” She says, and as I pull away from the curb with a wobble I try to relax my body with some deep breaths. “Yeah it was fine. Tell me about yours.”

And she does, and we five cycle until the village tapers away to become scarce houses dotted along the coast, on and on until the mouth of the woods. I listen to her talk, not really what she is saying so much as the sound of her voice, and I realise that if I concentrate on things like this, like the steady lock of her hands over mine and the silk of her hair blowing back against my face then I don’t have a lot of space left to think about how awful and selfish I am today.

By the time we reach the forest and tether our bikes to a fence I’m feeling almost back to myself again, so much so that I can even join in the conversation Shane, Jen and Joe are having about Dexter, and as always when it comes to TV, Jen and I start arguing about something or other, some part of the story that I picked up wrong, some character that I love but I am supposed to hate, and this is my favourite way to be with her, giving off, winding each other up so much and acting pissed off until someone thinks we’re being serious and tries to mediate. It’s the best way I can think of to whittle the time away on this trek from the onset of the woods to the dark depths of it, where the stony path turns to a dirt trail and briars snag at our ankles, where we duck under and scramble over low hanging branches and pick twigs out of one another's hair.

Clóda, who has been silent for a long time, slips her hand into mine and pulls me back from the group. “There was a sign that said ‘No Camping’ back there,” she murmurs.

“Yeah I know, we got caught before, a couple of years ago, but that’s why we’re going so deep in. Don’t worry, the guards never come this far.”

“Right,” she glances overhead where the dense firs have blocked out most of the evening sun and cast enormous shadows down upon us. I can listen now that the others have gone on ahead and their voices are dulled from the sounds of the trees brushing together in the wind, the squelch of the damp earth underfoot and the roar of the waves over the sand dunes somewhere to the east. A hare springs from a nearby cluster of ferns and flees from us, and Clóda screams and clings to my sleeve.

“You okay? A bit scared?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Of the woods?”

“I don’t know. I suppose we’re just a bit far from the path.”

“It’s okay, nothing is going to happen, there won’t be anybody but us. And the ghosts.”

She bats my arm, “God, stop.”

“You believe in them?”

“No.”

“I do.”

She shivers and says softly, “Okay well I don’t want to think about that.”

I peck the crown of her head, “Don’t worry, Just joking. I’ll mind you.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#Lucky boy #say hi to Jude's dad #making his debut appearance #this whole camping bit was inspired by a time that my friends and I did the same when we were teenagers lmao #there was a tent full of other teenagers across the way #they offered us heroin and we got so scared haha

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soulofapatrick · 2 years ago

Text

Healing Hearts - Joel Miller x Reader

Chapter Two ⇢ Healing Masterlist

Summary: Things have definitely changes since last night, Joel acting completely different

Words: 1.9K

Warning: None I think

Y/N’s POV

As soon as the gate buzzes and Joel’s pushing it open I’m sprinting down the road with a shout of Frank’s name. He appears at the end of the pathway to their house, arms open and a grin on his face, stumbling slightly when I come barrelling into his chest. I have always seen Bill and Frank as parental figures after I met them for the first time and Frank willing took on the role while Bill sort of just begrudgingly accepted it. Frank chuckles, wrapping his arms tightly around me, pulling me closer, “It’s good to see you too, Kiddo.” He says, voice filled with affection and amusement. I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest.

“How have you been?” I ask, pulling back enough to grin up at him. He’s got a soft smile on his face as he looks down at me until it falters when he sees the stitches. He’s gripping my chin and turning my face to the side so he can take a look at them in the light before he looks over my shoulder to where Tess and Joel have stopped. Bill comes rushing out of the house at the silence, stopping when he sees Frank gripping my chin and the stitches before he turns to my companions with an angry look on his face. He opens his mouth to start reprimanding them but I wave him off, “Nah Bill, this was all me.”

Frank sighs softly and lets me go, ushering us all inside before he throws me a “You know better than to pick fights.” He’s squeezing my shoulder before we follow the other three into the back garden where there are two blankets out, ready for a picnic lunch. My eyes widen as I didn’t think they’d actually remember me telling them that I had never had a picnic before. I glance between them, Frank smiling like a proud father and Bill’s got something that could resemble a smile on his face as he moves us all over so he can go get the food now that we’re here.

Joel and Tess sit immediately, Frank joining them while I say, “Let me just go help Bill first.” I see the way Joel’s eyes flit over me as I’m dropping my rucksack and practically skipping back into the house, heading for the kitchen where I know Bill is. He’s bent over, rummaging through the cupboards looking for something, turning when the door swings shut behind me, “Thought you might need some extra hands.”

Bill, being Bill, just grunts in response but nods towards the fridge and I get the hint. The fridge is full of foods that I can barely remember ever actually seeing since before the outbreak, my eyes drawn to the strawberries that have my mouth watering so I glance back. Bill has his back to me and it gives me the opportunity to nab a strawberry from the bowl and damn, so goddamn sweet and I can’t stop the sound that leaves my throat. Before I can relish in the flavours I’m being smacked by a roll of clingfilm and Bill is giving me a stern look, “Take them outside before you eat them all, Trouble.”

“Okay, okay,” I’m laughing, grabbing the bowl of strawberries and adding them to the small basket Bill is holding out for me before heading back to the kitchen door, glancing over my shoulder to Bill and says, “Thanks Dad.” I’ve never seen Bill look anything but grumpy and constipated so to see his eyes widen, mouth drop open slightly and his cheeks heat up I don’t know whether to leave him there or check if he’s okay but I settle on the former, heading back outside to where the others are. I put the basket down and strong and calloused hands are gripping my hips, pulling me down practically into his lap and I’m shrieking in surprise before I settle there.

“Where’s Bill?” Frank asks with a worries frown.

“Oh,” I compose myself, “I think I set him into factor reset mode.He’s standing in the kitchen still.”

“Wait what?” Frank’s eyebrows shoot up, “What did you do?”

“Called him Dad.” I shrug, leaning forwards as far as I can with Joel’s arms wrapped around my waist to grab some more strawberries from he basket as they’re so goddamn good.

Frank’s expression softens into a smile, “Well, it’s about time.” He’s saying, moving to stand and go after his husband but right then Bill appears, carrying the platter of meats and other nibbles that he’s made but it all looks wrong because Bill is smiling. He’s actually smiling.

Joel just shakes his head, grinning, before he says, “You’re gonna give the man a heart attack, you know that right?” I laugh and lean back against Joel’s chest, not going to question anything about us and just enjoy this moment of what feels something so couple like. The warmth of the sun on my face; the laughter and chatter of my makeshift family filling my ears and the comforting feel of Joel holding me safely in his arms. I can feel Frank glancing between us every so often and it makes me squirm a little, causing Joel to press a quick and hidden kiss to my shoulder before he’s gently guiding me to sit next to him so he can grab a plate of food before Tess and I eat it all.

I decide to use the bathroom, climbing to my feet and excusing myself as jogging towards the bathroom. Heading inside and down the hallway towards the bathroom to have hands grip my hips when I open the door, seeing Joel crowding my back in the mirror, his honey eyes darkening a little as they trail up and down as much of my body as he can see in the reflection. My throat dries up a little when he leans down, breath hot against my neck, “Been thinking about you.” He whispers, voice low and sultry and I think I whimper.

I’m turning around in his arms, looking up at him and my heart racing as I raise a hand to cup his cheek gently. His eyes flutter shut and he’s leaning into my touch, my thumb rubbing soothingly over his scruff, nails scratching gently through his beard and there’s a low rumble in his chest. I don’t really know what I’m doing when I draw his face down, lips finding his soft ones, his lips warm and pliant under mine and I feel a shiver run through him as I deepen the kiss. My tongue gently caressing his lower lip, a thrill running though me when Joel groans and walks me backwards into the bathroom, locking the door behind us and pressing me against it. His hands are squeezing my hips, pressing himself flush against me as the kiss turns more urgent. His tongue tangling with mine and sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me. A moan slips past my lips, my fingers moving to tangle in those loose curls and tugging gently. Joel’s hands trail up my sides, stopping just below my breast as he pulls back, resting his forehead against mine.

We’re both breathing heavily, eyes locked in a heated gaze as we try to catch our breaths, “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” Joel whispers, voice husky with desire and I’m surging forwards to capture his lips again, the kiss messy and needy with lips crashing, teeth clacking and tongues colliding. I could die right here and be happy, especially when Joel sits on the toilet lid and pulls me onto his lap after him, lips never once leaving mine. As I straddle him, I can feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against me, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. My hands are in his hair, tugging and pulling as his hands roam over my body, caressing and squeezing as if he can't get enough. We break apart for a moment, panting for air and staring into each other's eyes, both of us silently communicating our desire and longing for each other.

Joel's hands are on my waist, pulling me closer to him as he grinds against me, eliciting a moan from my lips. The sound only seems to spur him on as he trails kisses down my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, marking me as his. I'm undone, completely consumed by the heat and passion of the moment, and I know without a doubt that I want him. But just as quickly as it started, we hear a knock on the bathroom door and quickly separate, trying to compose ourselves before I’m peaking my head out to answer.

It's Tess, she’s got a concerned look on her face, “Hey, just checking you’re okay. Joel came after you and it’s been like twenty min-“ A small crash comes from behind me and Joel lets out a spew of curses, gripping his knee in pain and a look of realisation crosses Tess’ face as she finally takes in how dishevelled my appearance is, “Ah, I see,” There’s a teasing tone to her voice, matching the smirk, “Took you two long enough but just a heads up Joel, think Bill might kill you now he’s got a daughter.” With that she’s turning away and walking back down the corridor, laughing softly to herself and shaking her head so I close the bathroom door again with a groan.

Joel looks up at me with a sheepish smile, “Didn’t mean to cause a scene Darlin’.”

I shake my head, “It’s okay. It was worth it.” I’m leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips, feeling a smile spread across my face. “But we should probably head back out there before they send out a search party.” Joel nods, standing up and offering a hand for me to take. We unlock the door and step out, both of us trying to look as composed as possible despite our rumpled appearances. As soon as we step into the living room, where everyone has migrated as it’s apparently started to rain, we’re met with knowing looks from everyone in the room, including Frank who’s grinning widely at us. “Took you two long enough,” he jokes.

I feel my face flush with embarrassment, but Joel just takes it in stride, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer to him. “Sorry to keep you all waiting,” he says with a grin, “But we got a little lost on the way back.”

I can feel my face heating up even more and I look at the ground, trying to hide the smile threatening to break across my face as we wait for Bill’s reaction. Joel squeezes me tighter to his side, a silent promise he’s not letting me go anytime soon. I glance back up to see Bill still standing there, a stern look on his face despite his lips twitching upwards as if he’s trying not to smile at us as he says in the most monotonous and Bill-like voice, “Absolutely not.”

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

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herosplatling-replica · 1 year ago

Text

Palpitations

General - Slice of Life, 6,915 words

If a god truly exists, he hates Ada Paige specifically. (Ada has a dream, The Intern learns about themself, and Ian is just trying to survive.)

It was the middle of the night, and she was pacing her kitchen.

Ada bit the inside of her lip as she circled the counter, trying to stave off this excess energy she had so she could get some goddamn sleep. She had a weird dream, one that shocked her awake almost immediately, and now she couldn’t get back to bed. Paige’s hands finally made up their mind on what to do, and she reached into the cupboard to grab a mug.

It wasn’t a bad dream, per say, but it startled her.

Don’t dwell on it too long, it’ll get stuck in your head, Ada thought to herself as she reached into her fridge for a carton of milk.

...Right. The carton of milk Ian and the Intern had gotten her, along with the other groceries they hauled to her house. She frowned as her heart picked up the pace, thumping in double time. Oh my god, calm down.

Ada poured a generous amount of milk into the mug she had – one labeled “i’m a witch before coffee” that Ian got her as a gag gift last Halloween – and placed it in the microwave. She set the timer for a minute, and watched as the box lit up and slowly turned her mug on the turntable inside it.

Paige stared at the yellow glow of the microwave, feeling a blush creep onto her face again.

Memories of the dream she had brushed at the edges of her mind, pulling her back into the imagery as she waited for her milk to heat up.

In her dream, Ada was waiting at the table.

Things had been set up for a big meal, but her parents weren’t there. Two other place mats had food and drinks set up, stuff she wouldn’t normally make for dinner, like mashed potatoes and pasta and toasted bread with butter spread across it. Ian had come out of her kitchen to set down a holiday glazed ham on the table and smiled at her. The Intern followed after, bringing out a gorgeous cake that had apple slices set into the sponge, the entire affair covered in a dusting of powdered sugar. The two of them leaned in once they set things down at the table, and then she had kissed them both on the cheek with such tenderness it made her heart ache, and then-

And Ada jolted as her microwave beeped incessantly, her heart racing.

Oh my god Ada Paige you are NOT having some sort of schoolgirl crush on both of your coworkers, are you?! That’s SO unprofessional!

She definitely could feel her heart skipping, the sensation starting to worry her. Maybe she should have the Intern take a look in the morning, but-

The dream-Intern had looked at her, held her hand in such a gentle way that made her feel that things would be alright, and-

OH MY GOD YOU NEED TO GET SOME FUCKING SLEEP, GIRL.

Paige slapped her face lightly, trying to snap out of it. This wasn’t helping at all! She was just getting more flustered, thinking about what had happened, and it was going to get in the way of her work!

She grumbled as she pulled her mug out of the microwave, downing half of the milk immediately. Why was she even feeling this way over a silly dream? Ada had dreams before where she was at her wedding – though then she was marrying a figure with a crab for a face, so she knew it was a dream. What was it about this dream specifically that was making her so… embarrassed?

Was it just because she knew the people that were there? Because she worked with Ian and the Intern everyday? Because she’d known Ian since college, and they’ve stuck together this long? Because the Intern had this great sense of care instilled in every action they did? What was it exactly that was causing this?

Ada bit at her thumb, tapping her foot as she tried to figure it out. She was already too riled up to try to settle down, and there was still half a mug of warm milk in her other hand. She might as well try to sort through the reason why.

Paige set the mug down on the counter and began to pace again, her slippers making muffled footsteps against the tiled floor.

My heart feels like it’s gonna pop… Eugh. Just take a deep breath, Paige...

Was this even about the dream anymore? Maybe Ada felt this way because she felt like there was something new about her situation. She was about to ask herself what changed, but her gaze drifted over to the refrigerator and the question answered itself. Her coworkers had gotten her groceries, and she had them over for dinner, and they had laughed and laughed as they ate with her, and…

And oh god she was having a crush, wasn’t she? It wasn’t even a date! They had only come over at her insistence, and they didn’t even eat a lot, it was just pasta with a bottled sauce and toasted sandwich bread! It wasn’t some glamorous meal or romantic date, and even then-!

“Even then, would both of them even want to be with somebody like me..?” Ada asked herself aloud, pressing a hand to her cheek. Her skin felt warm, and her heartbeat racing. “Would they even..?”

She sighed deeply, scooping the mug up again. She was going to bury this feeling for sure. It would just get in the way if she let it sit around, rattling in her chest. She couldn’t let that happen, not with the patients’ health on the line at work. For crying out loud, Paige was supposed to be a professional! She needed to focus!

She took another sip from her mug, drumming her fingers on the counter. “Ohhh my god. I do have a crush, don’t I?” Ada groaned, slumping over. She hid her face in her hands, even though she knew she was alone. “What do I even do about this..?”

The mug ran dry, and Ada tried not to groan even more as she set it in the sink. There wasn’t much of a point to getting more now, especially since she was worked up. Paige briefly considered taking a jog, but it was far too dark currently, and she would have to shower and get dressed for work in a few hours. She didn’t have the luxury of going to burn off this excess energy with a lap or two around the block.

Maybe I should just call in tomorrow, she thought briefly to herself.

Well – that wouldn’t work. The Intern couldn’t speak, and Ian wasn’t exactly graceful with the patients. With their short staff, patient care was more or less entirely on her. Edega almost hated the notion of interacting with the patients himself.

She found herself pulling her phone out of her pocket, in half a mind to try to get the day off anyway. Instead of doing anything productive, though, she ended up scrolling through her messages.

A number of patients had managed to talk her into giving them her info so they could keep in touch once they were sent home. A few here and there had sent Ada pictures of how they were doing, accompanied with messages that they hoped she was well.

She took a moment to sort through them all, managing to smile at the kindness she could feel packed into each text. Ada wished she could respond to all of them, but it wasn’t possible with her workload. She just thumbed through the pictures and texts wishing her well, thinking about the others back at the hospital.

Ding.

Oh, a new message. Paige briefly wondered who would even be awake at this hour, finding Nicole’s portrait at the top of her notifications.

NT > hey doc, you really should be getting some sleep. NT > not to like, do your job, but it’s like 4 in the morning.

Ada scoffed aloud, trying to stop a grin from growing on her face.

AP > I had a weird dream. Just needed to pace a bit AP > Why are you up this late? NT > had a tough time getting any rest :/ NT > but I guess I’m not the only one, huh? AP > I guess so. NT > you wanna talk about it? the dream, I mean

Oh god.

Ada wasn’t sure if she should even trouble Nicole with this sort of thing – especially because it was silly, and if she spilled that she had a crush on anyone she wouldn’t hear the end of it. She thumbed the text entry box, trying to decide on what to say.

AP > it’s kind of dumb NT > hey, dumb dreams are the best to talk about. lay it on me, doc.

Ada bit the inside of her cheek, but figured if she was at least vague then the barista wouldn’t figure out who she had dreamt about.

AP > don’t laugh NT > wouldn’t dream of it. AP > I think I had a dream where I was like, in a relationship with this person that I know

She felt a slight amount of guilt at lying about the specifics, but Nicole didn’t need to know that there were two people.

AP > we were at the dinner table and they had come out with food that we were going to eat together and it was really really domestic and sappy and like NT > oh my god you’re totally in love

Ada’s heart raced. She was trying to avoid using that word! It felt like it was sealing her fate! She felt her hair stand on end as she tried not to let out a mortified noise. Her phone continued to buzz as she tried to stuff those feelings deep down.

NT > okay spill who is it who you HAVE to tell me NT > is it ian?? the intern?? janitor?? the nurse?? who girl I need a name NT > I know for a fact its NOT edega so tell me NT > ada respond AP > I don’t think you know them

She desperately hoped Nicole couldn’t see through her lie.

AP > problem is it’s a really embarrassing dream and now I’m stuck pacing the kitchen NT > wait NT > like right now? AP > why? NT > did you forget the part where it’s super early in the morning?? NT > so you’re just pacing in your kitchen like some sort of noir detective? AP > listen, NT > I’m listening

Paige could only make a face at her phone, certain that her cheeks were a bright red.

AP > its just extremely embarrassing and I want to forget about it so I can get some sleep before another 12 hour hell shift NT > what’s exactly bad about the dream? AP > that it’s somebody I know and don’t really want to talk about these feelings with? NT > but like why

Ada’s face scrunched like it was trying to recede into itself.

AP > look it’s really complicated I don’t AP > why don’t you talk about your feelings for cole? NT > HEY

Okay, thank god, that would distract Nicole for a while. Sure enough, the barista started sending messages in rapid fire about how her relationship with Cole was absolutely strictly friendly and not at all pining in any way, shape, or form. Paige tried not to laugh, running a hand through her hair as she remembered finding Cole with a coffee cup that had a big red heart written next to his name. She supposed it was a little unfair to throw the ball back at Nicole like that, but it worked.

Eventually, Nicole said she was tired and would be heading to bed and that Paige should try to get some more sleep too before going offline. Ada huffed quietly as she completed another lap of the kitchen floor, finding her anxious energy wasn’t going away.

Well, you had warm milk. Maybe that’ll be enough once you hit the bed, she thought to herself.

________________________________________

It didn’t help.

Ada squinted at the fluorescent hospital lights, trying her best to not make a face while she made her rounds. She didn’t sleep well at all.

Her eyes had shut once she laid down, and then the dreams started again. This time, her evil horrible brain had given her visions of a cozy night curled up on the couch with her two embarrassing crushes watching a movie with her. She had dozed off in the dream and Ian ran his fingers through her hair. The Intern had let her lean on them, the sound of their mechanical systems making a pleasant arrangement of noises. The three of them sat in a warm and comfortable silence, just enjoying their company.

It made Ada want to dig a hole so deep that no one could see her shame.

She was pacing the hospital lobby again – and she could tell other people could tell, because Nicole had been murmuring to Cole all morning. It would’ve been fine if it was just the caffeine addict, but then Cole told Samurai, Samurai told Lucky, and then Lucky told the entire hospital baseball team. Now the whole hospital knew about it.

Well, everyone save for her coworkers and Edega. If Edega knew, Ada would never hear the end of it. He already put her on the spot repeatedly for trying to make sure every patient was getting the best care they could – if he knew she had a crush on two of her coworkers, it would spell the end of her time at Middlesea Hospital.

Paige desperately hoped that Edega would just assume it was gossip.

She couldn’t focus while her thoughts were plagued by the dreams she had. It must’ve been clear on her face, because even the Stevensons had asked her if she was alright and that they were willing to listen if she needed to talk about anything.

It made her want to rip her hair out! She was a grown woman, she was 27, why was she acting like this?! Ada’s pace quickened as she circled the lobby again, trying to ignore the way the Janitor watched her with an eyebrow raised. She just needed this all to blow over already so she could just get back to doing her job.

.- -.. .- --..-- / .. ... / . ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / .- .-.. .-. .. --. .... - ..--..

« Ada, is everything alright? »

Tapping of metal against metal snapped Ada out of her thoughts. Paige yelped quietly, whirling around to see- The Intern. She tried desperately not to grimace at the sight of them, immediately feeling her heart race.

Would it be nice to kiss their monitor? It would be warm, wouldn’t it? I think it’d feel like a static shock, maybe-

The Intern repeated the question, tapping at their arm as they tilted their head at Paige. They looked concerned. « Is everything okay? Ian said your heart monitor was showing irregularities, » they signed.

PULL IT TOGETHER, ADA. PRO DOCTOR TIME.

“Oh- y-yeah! I just- it’s- I didn’t sleep well last night,” Ada ground out, her shoulders sinking. “I’m still feeling the fatigue, I think. I had a soda or three to try to stay awake. Did I worry you? Sorry.”

The Intern nodded slowly, patting her on the shoulder. Ada tried to will away the memories of the dreams she had last night as they did so. « You could take a nap, if you wanted. I could cover for you! »

Oh my god please don’t be so sweet I think I’ll explode on the spot right here.

“Um- Well, ah, it would be nice, but… I, uh, don’t know if I’ll get the chance to do it with Edega breathing down my neck, ahah. I appreciate it, though.” Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Ada don’t blush oh my god.

The Intern seemed thoughtful at her words, then nodded like they made up their mind. « I’ll handle Edega. You go get some rest, okay? »

“Wha-”

Before she could react, the Intern scooped the clipboard right out of Paige’s hands and sped off in the direction of the SVT ward. She made an indignant noise, and the Intern finger-spelled back « S-O-R-R-Y » with their free hand in the air as they ran.

Almost as if it was orchestrated, the Janitor began to mop the floor in front of the SVT ward. Paige skidded to a stop, locking eyes with him as if to ask what he was doing.

“You saw ‘em. Go get some sleep or they’ll be sad,” the Janitor chuckled, a grin evident in his voice. “Wouldn’t want to waste their good deed, right?”

Ada glared back at him, groaning aloud. If only I didn’t love this fucking job.

________________________________________

Nicole was cleaning the mugs after rush hour when the door chimed, followed by the Intern coming in. She gave them a nod as they settled down at the keyboard, but paused when she spotted what they had in their hand before they set it on their lap.

Ada’s dark blue clipboard. Oh, this’ll be good.

Nicole tried her best not to make a big obvious grin and went back to wiping the mugs down as the Intern started to play on the keyboard. Today they went for a jazzier piece, the tune catchy enough to have Nicole bobbing her head to the beat.

It sounded like a Bill Evans piece. She wasn’t sure. Nicole was a little rusty when it came to piano jazz pieces. She set down the cup she had finished polishing off, and sighed gently as she listened to the music.

It did sound a little empty on its own. It felt like there was something missing but it was lovely as it was. Nicole glanced around the cafe and, upon seeing no one immediately looking for her assistance, got out from behind the counter to greet the Intern at the keyboard.

Their posture brightened as they spotted her approaching, beckoning for her to sit and rest while the cafe was slow. Nicole smiled and sat on an empty table’s chair, watching the Intern as they continued to play.

Yes, the piece they were playing was missing something. The keyboard was lovely, that was true, but it felt like it needed a bass and drums. A quiet thought in the back of her head practically begged her to get the Intern the rest of the theoretical trio. For a moment she considered recruiting Samurai to the cause, before remembering the stoic preferred EDM over jazz.

Still, she kept that thought in the back of her mind.

Eventually the piece came to an end, and the Intern seemed to sort of blush as the remaining patrons applauded politely. They looked to Nicole, their hands drifting a bit in the air as they signed « what did you think? »

“I think I need to steal you from Edega, that’s what. You’d make a killing playing here,” Nicole grinned, blowing her hair out of her face. “What was that one called?”

« ‘My Foolish Heart’, by Bill Evans, » the Intern signed back, their posture relaxed. As if on cue, they picked Ada’s clipboard up and gave it a look-over. « How are you doing today? »

“Pretty good, actually. I had a hard time falling asleep last night without a smoke, but I toughed it out,” Nicole answered. “You?”

The Intern seemed to mull it over for a moment, before deciding on the words to say. « A little worried, but otherwise operating at expected parameters. »

“Haah? Worried?” Nicole tilted her head, even though she knew exactly why. “How come? Can’t be about little ol’ me, right?”

« Ada’s been acting strange today. I’m worried she might have Connectifia, » the Intern signed back, a little hesitantly. « So to help her out a bit, I told her to take a break. »

“And that’s why you stole her clipboard, I’m assuming?”

The Intern nodded, bashfully scratching the bottom of their monitor with a finger.

“Badass,” Nicole smirked. “Direct action. I like it.” They’re acting pretty damn similar to Paige last night. They definitely have a crush.

« It’s just temporary! But I was worried about her heart rate, » the Intern signed. « It’s been erratic all morning, but she keeps saying she’s fine. »

Now’s the time.

“How come you worry so much about her, anyway? She’s been handling this like a champ,” Nicole asked, tilting her head.

The Intern stalled out at that, the heart rate on their monitor picking up speed. Eventually they lifted their hands again to sign. « Um… I guess because she takes so much time taking care of others that she doesn’t take care of herself that much. So seeing her looking so stressed made me want to do something, I guess. »

Nicole started to open her mouth to tease the Intern about their answer, but they kept going. « I-I know she’s a professional doctor and everything! But I can’t help but worry, you know? It’s a tough job to do, and we’re more or less on our own here. »

Huh.

“I guess I didn’t think of it like that,” Nicole admitted, her posture relaxing as she leaned the chair back. “...Is that really all you feel? About the situation, I mean.”

The Intern tilted their head in confusion. « what »

“I mean, this entire time you’ve been working here…” Nicole tried not to grin, but found herself doing it anyway. “Has nobody caught your fancy? Like, no one at all?”

The Intern’s pulse slowed to a single beat on the screen at once, then suddenly picked up eighteen-fold, the beats nearly blurring up the entire view on the monitor. « Wait- WAIT. You think that this is-? »

“It’s not out of the question, right?” Nicole asked, leaning forwards now as she rested her elbows on her knees. “Emotions can be tough to navigate, so maybe I can help you figure it out.”

The Intern’s posture scrunched like they were trying to grimace with their entire monitor, though the screen just showed the same fervent heart beats. « I mean- falling in love? It feels-»

“Scary?”

The Intern nodded slowly, their hands close to their chest.

“It can be, yeah. If it’s your first crush, too, then that’s a whole lot to get into.”

�� The robot sort of hesitated, almost trying to decide on what to say, before shaking their head. « It- No. I don’t think it could be that. I wouldn’t know what it’s supposed to feel like. »

Nicole tilted her head, staring at the ceiling for a moment. “It’s like… Well, it’s like kind of constantly being a little afraid for the people you care about. You want them to be safe, and happy, and doing the things they love, even if they feel like they’re not good enough at it.”

When the Intern didn’t respond, she kept trying to explain. “Like – you don’t have skin, but you know that people can get abrasions. Imagine someone falls and skins their knee. What’s your first instinct?”

« Help, obviously, » the Intern signed.

“Right. But does how close you are with that person change how you try to help?” Nicole held a finger up in the air. “Imagine if that happened to Ian. Or Ada. How would you go about it?”

« Hmm… » They sat and thought over it for a second, their systems whirring. Their heart rate hadn’t settled at all yet, and Nicole was starting to get a little worried. « Ian doesn’t like to get touchy-feely. For him, I’d get all the materials to sanitize and bandage the wound, then help him take his mind off it with something he likes. Ada, she would probably be embarrassed, but I’d insist on trying to do it for her. She already has to do so much as things are right now. She would probably want a bit of a hug, though. »

“How would you do it for a stranger?” the Barista asked, her hair swaying slightly as she got comfortable.

« Well, um… I-I don’t know. » Their signing started to become small and uncertain. « Why are you asking all this again? »

“It’s a sign that you know their preferences. You know Ian is a little touch averse, and that Ada is kind of touch starved. Stuff like that, not a lot of people get to know about, so it means you pay a lot of attention to what the people you know like and don’t like.” Nicole smiled, reaching into her apron for her box of cigarettes. “I think that’s pretty important.”

The Intern nearly began to protest about what she was doing, but Nicole popped the box open to reveal sticks of gum. She stuck one in her mouth and started to chew. “It takes effort to learn all of that stuff. I’m just saying, if you felt like you ever wanted to-”

The cafe door swung open, the bell clattering raucously. “INTERN! Are you- O-oh.”

Ian stood at the entrance of the cafe, his brow sweaty as he tried to catch his breath. “You- your heart signaled a lot of stress, are-”

“Oh,” Nicole blurted out, “No no, I think they’re fine. We were just-”

.. / - .... .. -. -.- / .. .----. -- / - .... . / --- -. . / - .... .- - / -. . . -.. ... / - --- / .-.. .. . / -.. --- .-- -. / ..-. --- .-. / .- / -... .. -

The Intern tapped at the edge of the keyboard frantically, the Morse code too quick for Nicole to even try to think of translating it. Their heart rate somehow managed to speed up during all of this.

Ian seemed to understand what they tapped out though, and held his arm out to support the Intern. “It’s alright, you should go take a break. Ada managed to get some sleep, so it’s your turn for a 15. Take my hand.”

The Intern hesitated again, their monitor beginning to emit a faintly visible cloud of smoke. They tapped against the keyboard again, a sort of desperate speed to it.

-.-. .- -. / -.-- --- ..- / - . .-.. .-.. / -. .. -.-. --- .-.. . / .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- / .. / --. --- - - .- / --. --- / .- -. -.. / - .... .- - / .. .----. .-.. .-.. / -.-. --- -- . / -... .- -.-. -.- / .-.. .- - . .-. ..--..

“Oh- Intern says they’re sorry they gotta go. I need to make sure everything’s alright with their systems,” Ian translated for her. He then gently pulled the Intern’s arm into the loop of his own, looking concerned as he felt the Intern’s monitor. “Something seems to be mucking up the cooling. Whole thing’s overheating.”

“Oh jeez. Well, um, be careful. And don’t sweat it Intern, maybe some other time we could do a duet,” Nicole said, trying to not feel guilty. She waved them off as the two doctors shuffled out the cafe door.

Maybe she pushed it a little too far? But if anything, it only proved what she was thinking was right. There was something going on with Ada, and with the Intern. And, well, if what happened just now was any indication, maybe something with Ian? Nicole hummed to herself as she got up and walked back to the counter, tapping her foot as she thought.

Now that she was thinking on it, Ian did react rather quickly for someone who isn’t usually very attached to people…

________________________________________

Ian gently lead the Intern to the hospital’s basement, careful as he helped them down the stairs. It was odd: usually the Intern was the most put together of the three doctors running around Middlesea. He briefly wondered if it was because of the staff shortage, but shook his head as he helped the Intern into a chair. Helping them right now was more important.

“You alright? You’re overheating,” Ian mumbled, reaching for a screwdriver. Maybe something got caught in the monitor’s circuitry?

-.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / -... . / -.. --- .. -. --. / .- / .-.. --- - / -... . - - . .-. / .... --- -. . ... - .-.. -.--

« Could be doing a lot better, honestly, » they tapped on the desk. They seemed dazed, their monitor almost a blur of green across the center as their heart raced.

“Let me take a look,” Ian murmured, and the Intern bowed their head. He could spot them fidgeting with their hands, but chalked it up to being nervous.

Gently, Ian opened the back panel of the Intern’s monitor. A light hiss escaped it as the hot air vented out, the smell like when laundry was left in for a touch too long. The Intern squirmed a bit at the sensation, but stayed put.

“Sorry. Maybe I need to add more ventilation back here. Just sit tight for a second, I’m going to check the wiring,” he said, hands carefully feeling around the cables for anything that somehow got lodged in.

He didn’t feel anything, so while the monitor was already open Ian reached for a can of compressed air to clean out any dust. “Alright. Canned air incoming.”

The Intern gave him a thumbs up, and gripped their knees in preparation. Ian felt a little bad, and cued himself before pressing the trigger.

“Ready, get set-” Pssshhhhh.

The Intern shivered horribly, but the cold air blasted out anything that was possibly stuck in there. Ian patted their shoulder in a sort of apology, pulling his hands out of the monitor to let them recover.

“While I’m already taking a look at everything, is there anything you need, Intern?” Ian asked, plopping down into his desk chair.

He saw the Intern fidget a bit, before pulling their hand to tap on the table.

.. / .... .- ...- . / .- / -... .. - / --- ..-. / .- / .-- . .. .-. -.. / --.- ..- . ... - .. --- -.

« I have a bit of a weird question. »

Ian raised an eyebrow, but motioned that they could continue. The Intern seemed a bit shy, but their heart rate at least started to slow a little.

.... --- .-- / -.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. --- .-- / .. ..-. / -.-- --- ..- .----. .-. . / .... .- ...- .. -. --. / .- / .... . .- .-. - / .- - - .- -.-. -.- ..--.. A short pause. .-.. .. -.- . --..-- / .. - .----. ... / -. --- - / .- / .-- . .. .-. -.. / ..-. . . .-.. .. -. --. / --- .-. / .- -. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / -... ..- - / .- -. / .- -.-. - ..- .- .-.. / .... . .- .-. - / .- - - .- -.-. -.-

« How do you know if you’re having a heart attack? » They tapped out, scratching the back of their neck as they did so. « Like, it’s not a weird feeling or anything but an actual heart attack. »

“Hmm.” Ian crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair as he thought on it. “I haven’t had one yet myself, but I’m told it’s got this whole sense of dread with it. Like, you feel like you’re going to die.”

- .... . -. / .-- .... .- - / -.. --- . ... / .. - / -- . .- -. / .. ..-. / -.-- --- ..- / ..-. . . .-.. / -.- .. -. -.. / --- ..-. / . -..- -.-. .. - . -.. ..--..

« Then what does it mean when you feel kind of excited? »

Huuuuh.

Ian pursed his lips. “Umm… I guess it’s like, a sort of crush or something? I haven’t had a big one since like, college, so…”

That was Ada back then… Ian tried not to blush as he thought back to the time he caught shingles and she had made that small but ever-so-important gesture of making him a consolation trophy. Things were different now, and they were coworkers at the same hospital, so he should just forget about all that-

The Intern’s posture brightened up, and they scooted the chair closer to Ian. « Tell me about it, please! I need to know if that’s what I have! »

“Wh-what? I-- Um, is that really-” Ian’s face heated up, and he heard his watch ping that his heart rate was accelerating. Oh my god why do you need to know that?!“I don’t know if we should talk about that right now!”

«Why nooooot? » The Intern signed out, dragging the words like they were whining. « I don’t know if what I’m having is Connectifia abortus or not, and I’m worried! Could you please describe it so I can be sure? »

Wh-- Oh my god do NOT tell me I need to explain what a crush feels like--!

The Intern watched him expectantly, and Ian grumbled. This is so embarrassing… “O-okay. I’ll tell you, just… don’t tell anyone else about this.”

.. / .- -... ... --- .-.. ..- - . .-.. -.-- / ... .-- . .- .-.

‘I absolutely swear.’ Euuuuugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this with you of all people…

Ian pulled at the collar of his turtleneck sweater, trying to look away from the Intern’s monitor. “So, um, it’s different for everybody. But the thing I know is the same is that, the- the person you think about, you feel like… like you want to make sure everything’s alright. And it’s different from the doctor stuff, just so you know.”

When the Intern just watched and motioned with a hand to continue, Ian silently begged that Paige would come down to the basement soon. “It’s- Well, it’s… I guess it’s kind of like what we did for Ada the other day. Wanting to make sure she’s eating well, resting, stuff like that. We don’t really do that for the patients here, you know?”

.. ... / .. - / .-. . .- .-.. .-.. -.-- -....- / .. / -- . .- -. -....- / --- .... / -.-. .-. .- .--.

« Is it really- I mean- Oh crap, » the Intern tapped out, their heart rate spiking on their screen.

Oh.

Oh, they had a crush on Ada too.

Ian wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but a sense of elation was definitely not it. The two of them had this thing in common. And, well- he did have a bit of a crush on the Intern as well, but he chalked it up to him just preferring computers over people…

The problem was that he knew that the Intern was starting to become their own person – something neither him nor Edega had planned nor programmed for – and it was fascinating to Ian. He wanted to know everything that was on their mind, but he felt like he couldn’t ask most of the time. The trio of doctors that made their rounds constantly had more work to do, and there just wasn’t any time in between patients and Connectifia cases.

Ian just wanted to get to know them better. Find out what they liked, the music they preferred, stuff like that. See if they liked the same things that he and Ada liked.

.. .- -. ..--..

« Ian? »

Oh my god you’re thinking about all that crap while you’re literally sitting with them- “U-um! Sorry! I just, I was thinking about stuff-” His watch beeped again, this time signaling an abnormal heart beat. Ian swatted at it uselessly, trying to make it shut up so he could think.

.. - .----. ... / ..-. .. -. . --..-- / .. / .--- ..- ... - / .-- .- -. - . -.. / - --- / -.- -. --- .-- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / -.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / - .... .. -. -.- / .- -. -.-- -... --- -.. -.-- / -.-. .- -. / .-.. --- ...- . / ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --. / .-.. .. -.- . / -- . ..--.. « It’s fine, I just wanted to know… Do you think anybody could love something like me? »

“Wh- Why do you say that?” Ian tried not to look hurt, but found his heart aching at the thought.

.. - .----. ... / .--- ..- ... - --..-- / .. .----. -- / .- / -- .- -.-. .... .. -. . .-.-.- / .. .----. -- / -. --- - / .-.. .. -.- . / . ...- . .-. -.-- --- -. . / . .-.. ... . / .... . .-. . --..-- / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. --- .-- ..--..

« It’s just, I’m a machine. » The Intern seemed a little sad as they tapped on the desk with a hand. « I’m not like everyone else here, you know? »

“So what?” Ian said, finding himself rising to his feet. “I don’t think any of that matters as long as they care about you.”

-... ..- - -....-

« But- »

That’s it. Ian made up his mind.

“You’re coming with me,” he grunted, pulling the Intern to their feet and up the stairs. They waved their free arm around in a sort of panic, but followed along regardless. “We’re gonna settle this, I don’t care if Edega finds out.”

.-- .... .- - / .- .-. . / -.-- --- ..- / . ...- . -. / -.. --- .. -. --. ..--.. ..--..

« What are you even doing?? » they frantically tapped onto their leg, struggling to keep up.

“I’m gonna show you you’re wrong. Just watch,” Ian mumbled.

________________________________________

Ada combed her fingers through her hair, trying not to be frustrated with herself.

She got some sleep, alright. And, in that short but refreshing rest, she had another dream.

Ada was on a picnic. The three of them – her, Ian, and the Intern – had been at a park, then a beach, and were relaxing together. She had been happy, so happy-

And so embarrassed. Paige wasn’t supposed to be getting this attached to her coworkers.

It wasn’t fair that this was happening to her. She did really like both of them, she did! It was just mortifying that this was happening at all! It felt like she was battling her own demons while trying to fend off the monster that was her job.

Ada groaned, and put her head in her hands. She had been trying to look over the case files for Cole and Nicole to see how their rehab was coming along, and all she could think about was the crush she had. It didn’t help that Nicole had guessed correctly so quickly when they chatted over text last night.

What do I even do..? I can’t date my coworkers, Edega has a strict no workplace dating policy, and there’s also two of them. I don’t even know if they like me back. And if they did… what would I do?

SLAM!

The door to her office crashed open, and as if things couldn’t get worse, Ian marched in with the Intern behind him.

If god was real, he hated Ada Paige specifically.

“Ada! You’re- you’re not like, busy, right?” Ian shrank, his confidence from earlier clearly gone. The Intern waved from where they were, clearly dragged into this entire situation by Ian.

“I- I’m supposed to be working, yeah.” WHY ARE YOU BOTH HERE. “Is something wrong?”

The Intern started frantically shaking their head no, and Ian stood up straighter. “Right! Ada, do you agree that the Intern is a person?”

“I- Yes? What’s this about?” Ada set down the files she had, propping her elbow on the desk to use as a chin rest.

“So you agree! The Intern is, without a doubt, a person!” Ian declared, dragging the Intern further into the office and shutting the door with his foot. “With emotions and all that?”

“Y...yes. When are you gonna explain-”

.. .- -. .----. ... / .--- ..- ... - / -... . .. -. --. / .- -. -. --- -.-- .. -. --. -....-

“I am not being annoying, I’m showing you why you’re wrong,” Ian ground out, pushing the Intern into the chair in front of Paige’s desk. “Ada, they think they aren’t lovable just because they have a metal body.”

“What?” Ada breathed out, with more intensity than she thought she was using. She rose from the desk, watching the way the Intern flinched and looked between her and Ian. “Where is- What’s this about? Where is all of this coming from? Did Edega say something to you?”

The Intern’s shoulders sank, and they shook their head no, before nodding reluctantly.

.... . / ... .- .. -.. / - .... .- - .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / .- / -- .- -.-. .... .. -. . / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / .- -.-. - / .-.. .. -.- . / .- / -- .- -.-. .... .. -. . .-.-.-

‘A machine should act like a machine.’

Ada’s blood boiled, and she stepped out from behind the desk. Before she could storm out and confront Edega herself, however, Ian caught her by the hand.

She whipped around to glare at him, but there was a certain look in his eyes. A softness she’s only really seen out of him from their college days, when he was bedridden. The ire in her blood dissipated, and she turned to look at the Intern again.

Oh.

They watched her with an uncertain feeling in their posture, their monitor’s pulse starting to quicken. She sighed, stepping back over to them.

“Look. It doesn’t matter what that idiot thinks of you. Okay?” Ada murmured, putting a hand on one of their shoulders. “You’re… really sweet, and kind, and definitely get along with the patients. I think you’re great as you are, Intern.”

There was a strange blur on their monitor, their pulse coming out as a choppy shape too quick for her to parse. They shook their head, like they were trying to clear it out.

-... ..- - / .. .----. -- / .... .- ...- .. -. --. / - .... . ... . / ..-. . . .-.. .. -. --. ... / .. .----. -- / -. --- - / -- . .- -. - / - --- / .... .- ...- . --..-- / .- -. -.. .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / .. - .----. ... / -.- .. .-.. .-.. .. -. --. / -- . .-.-.- A pause, and then: .. / ..-. . . .-.. / .-.. .. -.- . / .. .----. -- / --. --- .. -. --. / - --- / . -..- .--. .-.. --- -.. . .-.-.-

« But I'm having these feelings I'm not meant to have, and... it's killing me. » They gripped their chest with a shaking hand, like their heart would burst. « I feel like I’m going to explode. »

Ada faltered a bit, glancing back at Ian. His face was unsure, but his eyes were determined. He took Ada’s hand, and with his other, gently picked up the Intern’s.

“I- U-um, well… That thing you’re feeling, I’m-” Ian stuttered, his face turning a new shade of red Ada never saw on him before. “I’m pretty sure that… It’s mutual.”

“Oh my god. I-” Ada’s jaw dropped, her own face heating up. “You-”

“I’ve had a crush on you since college, Ada. And the Intern, I’ve had one for a while now. I just- I wanted to get it out there, before I had a heart attack about it.” Ian wheezed, his shoulders lowering. “These past few days, we’ve just been worked to the bone, and I never really had a good time to-”

-- . / - --- --- .-.-.-

« Me too. »

The Intern’s movement stuttered as shapes blurred across their monitor again, but they reached out and took Ada’s hand. Their monitor looked like it was overheating, and Ada couldn’t help but feel worried about it.

Yet, at the same time, she felt… relief.

“You two… oh my god, you’re ridiculous,” Ada wept out, a giant smile on her face. “Here I was, thinking- Ohhh god. You dorks.”

She couldn’t help but cry as the three of them pressed together into a hug, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “We’re so dead if Edega finds out.”

.... . / -.-. .- -. / -- .. -. -.. / .... .. ... / --- .-- -. / -.. .- -- -. / -... ..- ... .. -. . ... ...

« He can mind his own damn business, » the Intern tapped on her back. That got a laugh out of her, and Ian wiped his eyes. They all parted from the hug rather hesitantly, but the Intern’s monitor began to get uncomfortably hot.

“So then… um… We all…”

“Have feelings for each other, it looks like,” Ada murmured. “Here I was being worried over nothing.”

« Worried about what? » The Intern signed before peeling their doctor’s coat off to let their systems recover.

“I, um,” Paige’s face felt hot. “I think I was anxious you two would hear I had a crush on you before I was ready to talk about it. But, um! I’m happy that you feel the same.”

Ian laughed quietly, his own face a dark blush. “It’s… nice. So are we, um… Can I ask you two out?”

Ada tried not to wince at the way her heart skipped. “Y-yeah. Yeah! We could maybe get coffee, or… No, we should go to a movie. That’s good first date stuff.” And Nicole and the other patients won’t see.

The Intern’s hands fluttered as they expressed a sort of excitement, clearly in support of the idea. « And then after, we could maybe go walking around the mall. I’ve wanted to go for a while, I just never found the time or reason to do it. »

“Then we’ll do it,” Ian smiled, giving Ada and the Intern’s hands a squeeze. “Does… the weekend work for you?”

“Heh, we’ll make it work. Promise.”

Her chest hurt, but it felt nice for once.

She wasn’t alone.

#my writing #rhythm doctor #polyrhythmcule #ada paige #ian rhythm doctor #intern rhythm doctor #the intern #ian #nicole ting #cole brew

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space-cowbo7 · 2 years ago

Text

the arcane; part two

pairing: kenny mccormick

————————————————————————

following my math class is lunch, which of course meant i was going back to the art room. my head is in my hands as heidi talks about a cute new boy in her class.

i watch across the table as her hands flail a plastic fork around, a piece of salad hanging on. my eyes droop, even though it's only lunch time.

"what's on your mind, kiddo?" heidi sighs and reaches out for me. i haven't been paying attention to her.

what a good friend i am.

"sorry, heidi." i groan.

"y/n, hon, you didn't get a lunch." i see the look in her face. the same look i get from my mom. my dad. i can't describe the look. i just know.

i can't respond to her, so instead i just look down at my hands. heidi takes the hint, and that's why i love her.

she puts her salad away and clasps her hands together.

"so, what do you think of kenny?" she has a slight smirk on her face.

"what about him?" i respond monotonously.

"he seems to think you're pretty interesting." she looks off to the side, trying to seem nonchalant about the topic.

"i don't think so, heidi." i lean back in my chair and glance at the clock. five minutes before lunch ends. "besides. he seems like an asshole."

"kenny's not an asshole, he's just playing around with you."

"i'd prefer if he just kept to himself."

heidi gives up on the idea and stands up, clutching her bags straps.

"lunch is almost over, walk me to my next class?"

—————————————————

after school i ride the bus back home, my headphones on the whole time as i sit next to a loud clyde donovan. my head is against the window when i see the bus stop sign.

i follow the crowd off the bus again, same as this morning. my eyes drag on the ground, when i notice the bird corpse is gone. probably picked up by some other animal.

my music blares in my ears as i stroll up to my cookie cutter house on our street. the doorknob doesn't budge when i try to open the door, meaning my parents aren't home.

i pull my key out to unlock the door, opening it to see the house dark and cold. coming to my aid is inky, our great pyrenees. he's got his tongue out and his tail slaps against the kitchen island.

"hiya, inky." an authentic smile stretches on my face as i pet his soft head.

my parents got inky when i first started having a hard time with fitting in at school. they felt bad for never being around, so they got a dog to make up for it. they even let me pick his name, and since at the time i was obsessed with playing at the arcade, i named him after the pac-man ghost.

after showering him in affection, my eyes travel to a note is stuck on the fridge. not an unusual occurrence in my home.

'y/n,

your mother is gone on a work trip until wednesday. there's food in the fridge, please eat.

love you, dad'

dad always leaves small formal notes like this when mom leaves, since he works most night shifts. my stomach hurts from being empty for so long, and so i open the fridge to see what i can eat.

there's cold pizza in a bag, and left over lasagna from a couple nights ago. i opt for cereal instead and pour fruity pebbles into a small bowl.

the echo in the bowl makes me feel chilled. lonely. before i know it i'm staring into the distance. thinking about nothing.

my eyes guide back to the food i just poured myself. churning begins in my stomach as i think about eating it. my stomach hurts so bad from its lack of food that the thought of eating anything is sickening.

i need some air.

my house is a five minute alley-walk away from the park in the middle of town. a place that used to be full of people, was now almost abandoned by kids.

the park is like my safe space. like the art room at school. i go there to think.

i make sure to grab my camera before i head out in my coat. the wind is cold as i walk, and snowflakes fall sparsely.

i sit upon a swing, looking up to the sun setting behind the mountains. my camera navigates to my eye and i see the scene through my lense, i snap a picture.

being at the park calms my nerves and i sit there for a while watching the moon rise. my hands hold onto the cold chains on either side of me.

my serenity is interrupted by rough voices to my left. a group of men wander in through the park fence, smoke blowing out of their mouths as they argue.

i stand up quietly, hoping they don't see me since it's dark.

"hey!"

fuck.

the men start to make their way toward me, a dismal feeling floods my abdomen as their rugged faces come into view.

"sorry- i was just leaving." i back up slowly.

"no.. why don't you stay?" one of the men throws a cigarette on the floor and smears it into the ground with his foot.

"i'm okay. really." my voice is fastened with fear, but i'm able to keep myself from stuttering.

before i can get to the alleyway entrance, i'm stopped by two more men grabbing my arms. their grip on me is strong, and one of them has their nails digging into my shoulder.

"relax, babydoll, we just want to talk." his voice is sickening.

"let go of me-" i grit my teeth.

the man holding my shoulder snatches my camera from my hand, looking at it with squinted eyes.

"you think they got pictures of us?" the other spoke.

"i didn't! i promise i just took some pictures of the-"

"shut up, don't speak again." my camera is thrown over my head to the man standing across from me. he looks straight into my eyes before dropping it onto the concrete, following by stomping his feet over it.

"my camera!" i call out, realizing i just spoke out of turn again.

the thugs tighten their grip on me as my camera is smooshed to pieces.

"what do we do with 'em?" they shake my body, i feel frail in their hands.

"you're gonna leave them the fuck alone, that's what."

my eyes focus behind the man in front of me. a tall build quickly making its way in my direction. in a swift motion, he grabs the man by the shoulder and throws him to the ground, his jaw smacks against the concrete.

he drags his face into the ground and pushes his foot against the man's cheek, causing his skin to bleed raw. i watch in awe as the men on either side of me let go.

"shit- that's a lot of blood, man!" one of them blubbers.

"let's get the fuck out of here-" the other agrees and they run off into the alley, ignoring the painful sobs from their third accomplice.

i'm frozen. my feet are glued to the ground and mysterion makes his way into my eyesight again. he had just saved my life.

"y/n?" his voice cracks.

i take a step back.

"how do you know who i am..?" i cough out.

his mystery persona seems to falter slightly as his eyes look deep into mine.

"i.. uh work with the police, and your dad. officer l/n."

"right.." my eyes are still wide as i look him up and down. "you really saved me.."

"well, yeah that's kind of what i'm here for." he smiles under his mask, it's so bright that i can still see it in the dark.

i look back over to my broken camera, the man still laying on the floor beside it, twitching slightly.

"ahem-" mysterion breaks our stillness. "i've gotta take this prick down to the station, so i can either walk you home real quick or you can come with me."

i look at my feet. if i go home then i'm alone again, which is usually my preferred option, but after what just happened i'm not so sure. but i don't want to go to the station, either.

"i think i'll just go home." i finally croak.

"you live close?"

"yeah." i look down the alley. "i can go myself."

"yeah. that's not happening." he chuckles slightly.

i look up at him through my lashes before turning to the alley to start walking. mystery man follows me down the street, the street lights softly illuminate the features he shows through his disguise.

we reach my house and i turn to look at mysterion. his lips are pink and plump, and he's got slight blonde facial hair. my eyes soften when we look at each other, my heart seeding up with affection.

"thank you." i look back down at my shoes.

"of course. you sure you don't need anything else?"

"i'm good. thank you again." i grab onto the door handle behind me.

i know my face is red when his smile pokes through his hood again. pushing the door open, i give him one last thank you before sliding back into the cold house.

my cereal is still on the counter. with a sigh, i lock the front door and head up to my room, inky following me.

the room is lit up with lights on my wall. my desk is unruly with sketches and photos everywhere. i unclip my bra and toss it off to the side, flopping down onto my large bed.

inky jumps up next to me and nestles his head next to mine, giving me a sense of security. my phone shows me the time is 12 am. which is usually when i'd be asleep.

i reach out for my nearest stuffed animal and hold onto it tight.

"night, inky." i smile and kiss the top of his head before my eyes close.

——————————————————-

i wake up to a small tapping on my window behind me. inky's head perks up with mine, the lights are creating a glare in the window so i can't see.

the tapping continues and i get up to investigate. the closer i get the more of mysterion's features make it through the windows beam.

i open the window quickly as he sits on my windowsill shivering.

"oh my god- what are you doing?" i step back, allowing him inside my room. my bra lays on the floor in between us and i frantically kick it under my bed.

"i grabbed this for you." he holds out his hand, a small black flash drive in his palm.

"is this from my camera?" i grab the drive, my mouth partly open.

he just nods with a smile.

"did you take any pictures?"

my chest starts pounding.

he wants to see my pictures.

"yeah- i have a lot on this drive, actually."

"i'd love to see them."

a smile takes over my features and i walk over to my desk, putting the flash drive into my open laptop. i sit in my desk chair and click through the pictures, mysterion hovers over me.

"these are really good.." he mumbles.

"thanks, it's pretty much the only thing i do."

"what about these- they're pretty cool too." he leans over to grab a paper that has a sketch of inky on it.

"..thanks." my face heats up again.

"woah!" he laughs and grabs another paper. "is this me?"

i look over to see him holding a sketch i did of him taking to the police chief.

"oh- uh yeah. i was just there and i figured i'd draw it. sorry, is that weird?"

"not at all." he looks at me. "it's so cool. i mean, i'm flattered." he returns a cocky smile that gives me butterflies.

how is he making me feel like this??

"would you... do it again?" i feel his breath on my neck.

"draw you?" i turn to face him, and i realize his eyes are blue. a light azure with a hint of hazel around his pupils.

"if it isn't too much trouble." he backs up as i stand. "but, i mean, i did save your ass an hour ago."

i grin and nod, pulling out my sketchbook from my bag.

"you're right about that."

i crawl onto my bed and put the book on my knees. mysterion takes the hint and tries to find a position to hold for me to draw.

he settles for sitting in my desk chair, his legs slightly spread and his head leaning on his propped up fist.

"paint me like one of your french girls, y/n." he says in a soft feminine voice.

i laugh and start to block out his body. his shoulders are broad and his torso is quite lean, he definitely has some abs going on underneath that suit..

what the fuck?

i scratch the thought from my head as i continue with his legs, which are long and stretched out. i don't bother drawing the chair, since all i want to focus on is him.

"it's done." i push the sketchbook forward to him.

he scoots the chair up to the end of my bed, eying the picture.

"you're so talented, y/n." he says with a smile. "could've made my bulge a little bigger." he points a finger toward the drawing.

he grins at me and i stifle a laugh. i haven't had this genuine of a conversation with someone in a long time, and although it's late, i don't ever want it to stop.

"could you do it again, but like this?" he does a dramatic heroic pose with his leg up on the chair.

i giggle before flipping to the next page in my sketchbook.

——————————————————

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