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

[bluesey-182]

family dinner abruptly ended with my brother and i yelling at each other until he finally just got up and stormed out

[sturniqlo]

Positive-C.S

summary: y/n and chris find out their expecting a baby

cw: bit angst, fluff, young parent pregnancy, panic attack, crying

an: she's a short one so she's a blurb

masterlist | positive masterlist

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It's been about a week since Y/n started to feel sick. First, she woke up one day and had the urge to throw up so she ran to the bathroom and threw up everything she had the night prior. She thought nothing of it, maybe the food she had eaten sat the wrong way. Then, certain smells she used to once love made her gag, and yet again run to the bathroom.

Her favorite perfume Chris has gifted her for her twentieth birthday made her nauseous. She couldn't bare the smell on her, so she ran to the bathroom, threw up, took a shower and tossed her perfumed clothes in the washer. During this time, Chris was away in Boston visiting his parents and he had no idea any of this was happening until he facetimed her and saw her pale face.

"Hey ba- woah, you're pale. You feeling okay?" Chris said when he saw his girlfriend's pale face and under eye bags. She shook her head. "No, I've had this stomach bug for the past four days. I can't keep down anything I eat besides water and fruit." She pouts. "Was it what we had for dinner before I left?" He asks, shifting in his bed, worrying for his girlfriend's wellbeing. "I think so, it's messed me up pretty bad."

When Chris returned the following week, she was the same, only a bit better. She was able to keep down more foods like a ham and cheese sandwich, cereal, mac and cheese, and smoothies. The day after Chris had came back, he stayed at Y/n's place and made eggs in the morning. She woke to the smell and threw up in the bathroom. For the next hour, all windows were open to air out the smell. That's when Chris started to get suspicious.

Week three, it had been three weeks that Y/n has been with this mysterious sickness. Chris couldn't help but ask. "Are you sure you're okay? Do we have to go to the doctor?" He asked one day that week. "I'm okay, it's probably just my period, it should be coming any day now." She brought her knees up to her chest. Chris came close to her and wrapped his arms around her. She inhaled the scent of his cologne loving it, which is why she bought it for him on a random day. However, this time when she inhaled his scent, she became nauseous. Y/n pushed him off and ran to her bathroom.

"Hey, you're okay." Chris grabbed her hair and formed it into a makeshift ponytail with the hair tie he had on his wrist as she emptied everything she had in her into the toilet. "You want some water, baby?" He asked her as she flushed the toilet and sat against the shower door. "Please." She said, throwing her head back. Chris went to her kitchen, and opened the fridge grabbing his a cold water. As he closed the fridge, she caught eye of her calendar on the fridge door. blood bath begins :( is marked for the 13th of the month. He quickly pulled out his phone and checked the date.

It was the 22nd. He gasped. He quickly realized he was taking too long so he went back to Y/n. "Here you go." Chris opened the water for her and handed it to her. She had moved to the wall across the sink so he sat down on the floor next to her. "Babe, I don't want to scare you or anything but, are you sure you're not pregnant?" Y/n chokes on her water. "What? No, I'm about to get my period around the thirteenth." She looks at him. "Y/n, it's the twenty second." Her face falls. "No- no it's not." She pats on her pockets for her phone but she doesn't feel it. "Look at the date." Chris pulls his phone out from his pocket. Quickly, she grabs his phone and turns it on looking straight up at the date.

It's the twenty second. She has the same reaction as Chris and gasps. "Chris, how- how did I not notice. Oh my god." She puts her head in her hands. "Hey, hey, hey, it's going to be okay. I'll run to the store down the street and buy a couple of tests okay? Whatever the result is you have the final decision okay? And we'll get through it together." Chris brings her to his chest. "Okay." She manages to squeak out.

Chris run his hands through his hair as he power walks to the Walgreens that is luckily down the street from Y/n apartment complex. Back home, Y/n struggles to walk to the couch. Her mind runs through every possible situation that can happen. It can be positive and Chris can leave her and want nothing to do with her or the bab- No! She stopped herself from that thought. He said they'll get through this together. Her breathing get more uneven as she reaches the couch. She struggles to breathe as the tears stream down her face. She tries her hardest to take deep breaths, in 1,2,3, out 1,2,3. That doesn't help. She looks around her living room and tries to spot five things she can see and say out loud.

"Pic- picture of me and Chris on our one year anniversary. Chris' hoodie on the arm- arm rest. My green rug Chris bought me. Tulips I picked out last week." It starts working, her breathing is finally back to normal and she wipe her sweaty hands on her sweats. She takes a couple of minutes to herself before getting up to distract herself while Chris comes back.

What seemed like hours, only ten minutes had passed, Chris finally walked through the front door with a bag in his hand. "Did you get them?" Y/n run to him. "Yeah, I got multiple." She grabs the bag from him and goes into the bathroom. After peeing on all four sticks, she opens the bathroom door and is met with Chris standing right in front. "Now we wait." She lets him in. She automatically wraps her arms around his middle and her his wrap around her neck. Bending his head down to kiss the top of it. "Chris, promise you won't leave me if it's a positive." She lifts her head off of his chest.

"Baby, I promise with all my heart, I will never, okay? Like I said we're in this together." He reassured her. During the next five minutes, Chris tries to distract her, talking about random things. Telling her random facts about animals Matt had told him the other day. "I think it's time, Chris." They unwrap their arms from one another. "Okay." They both grab two and Chris counts down. "We flip them at one okay?" She nods "3, 2, 1." They flip them.

||, Pregnant, +

"Holy shit, I'm pregnant." Y/n places the sticks back down on the sink and begins to well up with tears. "Come here." Chris places the two he had down and opens his arms up for her. "Chris, what are we going to do. We only just- just turned twenty." She cried. "We'll figure it out, alright." He spoke into her hair. "Do you want to keep it?" He asks. "I- Yes, I want to." She looks up at him and slightly smiles and he smiles too. "We're having a baby." He says.

"We're having a baby." She confirms.

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do we want a mini series on this??

[rogueddie]

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

[thetriumphantpanda]

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.” 

[lavendertom]

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.

[osamusbigtits]

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.

[jessilynallendilla]

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 

[ikemenomegas]

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.

[fanfictionstuff]

Valentine's Day (Amaimon x reader smut)

A little of the same content regarding reader, Shiemi, and Shima sharing v-day gifts like in my fluffy Valentine's Day fic.

Shima grins as you approach with a red bag. “Hey there!” He bounds over to you, eagerly asking, “What do you have in there?” Leaning down slightly, he tries to get a better look at the bag. “Chocolates,” you reply, stepping back a bit. “I made some for all my friends.” You lift the bag as you respond, “Happy Valentine’s Day!” As you speak, you open the bag and start handing out small gift bags of chocolates that you prepared the night before.

A light blush spreads across Shiemi’s cheeks as she receives the gifts. Eagerly, she reaches into her bag. “I brought something for everyone too!” she exclaims, distributing cards and homemade herb cookies to each person, each accompanied by cute, personalized notes.

“I also brought you cuties something!” Shima exclaims, opening his bag to reveal store-bought chocolates in a heart-shaped package for you and Shiemi.

“What do you want?” Rin glares at the approaching figure down the hallway, the green-haired demon king glares back as he reaches your group. “Why did you give him that?” Amaimon frowns, snatching the chocolate from Rin. He then glances at the others holding bags of chocolate; Shima’s eyes widen, quickly hiding his chocolates behind his back. “We give our friends, family, and partners gifts on Valentine's Day.” You explain, sighing. 

He raises the small bag of chocolate to his face and stares at you. “So, where’s mine?"

Rin attempts to get the chocolates back from Amaimon. "Did you not catch the friends, family, and partners? You’re none to _____.” He frowns when he fails to grab them.

I swear he’s like a child sometimes. Reaching into your bag to pull out a box. “Look, I made these for you.” You lift the lid to reveal the variety of creations inside, each one made just for him.

Amaimon casually tosses the small bag of chocolates back to Rin as he accepts the box from you. His eyes dart over the assortment, and without hesitation, he grabs a random piece to taste.

Your friends watch in confusion. Why would you make chocolate for him? Why would you give him so many compared to what you gave them? Shima lowers his voice. “Does she have a crush on him?”

Bon shakes his head. “No way. She’s never even spoken about him.”

Amaimon hums in approval and continues on his way with the box of chocolates in hand.

“What was that?!” Rin stares at you in disbelief. “What was what?” He motions to Amaimon’s back. “You made him a box of chocolates? Do you like him or something?” Rin glares at Amaimon’s back. “He didn’t even thank you.”

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

Amaimon stares at you from the bar while shoving chips into his mouth. “What are you making?” He questions, eyeing the batter you’re mixing. “Well, I was going to make a chocolate lava cake, but you might not be in the mood for chocolate after eating so much today. I probably should’ve thought about that before I made you chocolates.” You sigh.

The king shrugs. “Why don’t we skip the cake? I’ll cover you in chocolate instead.”

Your head shoots up, staring at Amaimon wide-eyed. “What?”

“No?” He raises a brow. “That’s okay; I bought whipped cream, too.” He gestures toward the fridge while licking his fingers clean, then grabs his phone and hands it to you. “Open the message from Big Brother.” You stare at him a moment before unlocking the phone and going to his messages app. You and Mephisto are the only contacts in the messages.

‘Bringing food into the bedroom this Valentine’s Day’

 It’s some article. You slowly set the phone down. “You better not respond to this," you warn. The last thing you need is Mephisto getting any details about your personal life with Amaimon. His knowing about the relationship creates enough drama, constantly making annoying innuendos in front of your parents and friends, which luckily none of them catch. You shouldn’t have given Amaimon chocolate in front of your friends, but you didn’t want him to get jealous and make a scene.

“Read it.” Amaimon pushes the phone back towards you. Following his instructions, you take the phone and open the article. You tilt your head in confusion; it seems rather lackluster. Just licking cream off random parts of the body? “Do you want to try this?” You question the king.

Amaimon shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes gleam with interest. "Could be fun."

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you consider it. "I suppose we could... but uh, what should we use?” 

“I told you I bought whipped cream, and we have strawberries.” He points at the bowl of strawberries on the bar.

"Should we move this to the bedroom?" you ask, hesitating as you glance down at the mixing bowl. Couldn’t he have brought this up after the cake was finished?

Amaimon pauses, a strawberry poised halfway to his lips. "Why? The kitchen works fine." He hops off the barstool and strides over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. His chin settles on your shoulder as he leans in to glance at the phone screen. Almost as if he can read your mind, he makes a comment about the batter.

"_______," he says, reaching past you to dip a finger into the chocolate batter. "We have this cake mix. It would be a shame to waste it." He brings his chocolate-coated finger to your lips. "Open your mouth."

Your heart races as you part your lips, allowing Amaimon to slide his chocolate-covered finger into your mouth. The rich sweetness of the batter spreads across your tongue as you gently suck his finger clean, careful around his claw. Amaimon's eyes darken with desire as he watches you, his grip on your waist tightening. 

"Good?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, speechless, as he pulls his finger away. He dips it back into the batter and drags a streak of chocolate across your collarbone.

"It's my turn," he whispers, leaning in to savor the chocolate from your skin. His warm tongue sends delightful shivers down your spine. You grip the edge of the counter, striving to steady yourself as he continues.

Amaimon pulls back, licking his lips. "Tastes better on you," he says, his eyes flickering to the fridge before he moves away to grab the whipped cream.

As Amaimon returns with the whipped cream, a wave of nervous excitement and anticipation washes over you. He places the can on the counter and shoots you a playful glance. 

"Where should we start?" he asks, his voice low and teasing. 

You bite your lip. “I don’t know…" 

Amaimon nods, shakes the can, and carefully sprays a line of whipped cream along the curve of your neck. The cool sensation makes you shiver slightly.

Leaning in close, Amaimon's warm breath ghosts over your skin before his tongue darts out to lick a stripe up your neck. You gasp softly at the contrasting sensations - the cool cream and his hot mouth. He takes his time, thoroughly cleaning every trace of sweetness from your skin. 

Once he's done, he steps back to admire his work, his eyes filled with longing. "Your turn." 

He tilts his head, revealing the pale column of his throat as he teasingly shakes the can of cream for you to take. With slightly trembling hands, you accept the can and swirl whipped cream onto his neck. 

Taking a deep breath, you lean in and begin to slowly lick the whipped cream from Amaimon's neck. His skin feels warm beneath your lips, and you can feel his pulse quickening beneath you. You savor the moment, taking your time to enjoy the sweetness of the cream as it mingles with the distinct flavor of his skin. 

Amaimon lets out a low growl of approval, his hands resting on your hips. As you finish cleaning the last traces of cream from his neck, he suddenly lifts you onto the kitchen counter, positioning himself between your legs. 

"It's my turn again," he says, his voice thick with desire. He reaches for the chocolate batter, dipping two fingers in and then tracing a line down your chest, pausing just above the neckline of your shirt. 

Your breath catches as he leans in, his tongue tracing the sweet path of the chocolate. He takes his time, alternating between gentle licks and light nips, causing you to squirm under his ministrations. 

When he reaches the edge of your shirt, he looks up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod, giving him permission to proceed. He unbuttons your shirt with nimble fingers, sliding it off your shoulders to reveal more skin. He draws intricate patterns with the chocolate batter across your chest and stomach, his gaze deepening with each new design. 

He lowers his head to your collarbone, his tongue swirling patterns against your skin, mirroring the chocolate designs he has created. You shiver at the sensation, your fingers weaving through his hair. 

Amaimon works his way down slowly, savoring every inch of skin. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he licks and nibbles. As he reaches your stomach, he glances up at you through his lashes, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Amaimon grabs the whipped cream can once more, shaking it vigorously before generously spraying a frothy cloud onto your stomach. The sudden chill of the cream causes you to gasp. 

“This is interesting.” He randomly comments more to himself before his tongue laps at the cream, occasionally grazing your skin with his teeth. The dual sensations of pleasure and the slight hint of danger from his sharp canines send shivers through your body. You arch your back, pressing closer to Amaimon's eager mouth as he devours the whipped cream from your skin. 

His hands glide up your sides, leaving a trail of warmth behind. Once he finishes cleaning your stomach, he looks up at you, his eyes filled with dark desire. A smear of whipped cream rests at the corner of his mouth. 

Without hesitation, you lean forward and lick it, savoring the sweetness on your tongue—Amaimon growls low in his throat, pulling you into a searing kiss. The flavors of chocolate and cream intermingle between you as his tongue explores your mouth.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His hands roam your body, leaving sticky trails of chocolate and cream wherever they touch. He slips his hand up your back and quickly undoes your bra, tossing it to the side. The kitchen counter presses into your back, but you hardly notice, lost in the sensations Amaimon is creating. 

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily. "Bedroom," he says, his voice hoarse with desire. "Now." 

With a smooth, effortless motion, he lifts you off the counter, and you cling to him. 

You wrap your arms around Amaimon's neck as he effortlessly carries you to the bedroom, your legs still securely wrapped around his waist. His lips find yours in a passionate kiss while he skillfully navigates the hallway. 

Once in the bedroom, Amaimon gently lays you on the bed, his body hovering above yours. His eyes explore your form, taking in the remnants of chocolate and cream that still adorn your skin. A low growl rumbles deep within his chest. 

"Beautiful," he murmurs, dipping his head to your neck. His tongue glides over the lingering sweetness, causing you to shiver. 

Your hands glide under his shirt, feeling the warm, smooth skin of his back. Amaimon leans back just long enough to take off his shirt before focusing his attention back on your body. He works his way down, alternating between soft kisses and playful nips as he cleans every trace of dessert from your skin. 

When he reaches the waistband of your skirt, he looks up at you, a question in his eyes. You nod, lifting your hips to assist as he hooks his fingers under the skirt and waistband of your underwear, slowly removing the remainder of your clothing. 

Amaimon sits back on his heels, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your now fully exposed form. 

“Oh. I forgot the cream and chocolate.” The demon king stares at you momentarily, looking like he might be debating just to forego the sweets. 

Though the slightly embarrassed look on your face makes the decision for him, he quickly stands and heads back into the kitchen. 

When he returns, he climbs over you, sitting comfortably on your thighs while spraying a delicate swirl of cream just below your navel. The coolness makes you gasp softly. He follows it with a drizzle of the chocolate batter, creating an intricate pattern on your skin.

His tongue traces the designs he's made, alternating between gentle licks and playful nips. You arch into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair. Amaimon takes his time, savoring every taste and texture. 

As he works his way lower, your breath quickens with anticipation. Amaimon halts. Golden, hungry eyes meet yours, burning with desire. His fingers trail teasingly along your inner thighs as he positions himself between your legs. With agonizing slowness, he lowers his head, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. 

You inhale sharply as his tongue finally touches you, gliding gently along your slit. Every movement is deliberate and unhurried, heightening the anticipation that steadily builds within you. His hand firmly clasps your hip, anchoring you in place as you start to writhe under his attentive care. 

"Amaimon," you breathe, your fingers tightening in his hair. 

He hums softly in response, momentarily forgetting about the whipped cream and chocolate. His attention stays solely on you as he continues to run his tongue along your slit, before shifting his attention to your clit with precise intent. 

His free hand moves smoothly between your legs, perfectly harmonizing with the work of his mouth. Your back arches involuntarily as a fleeting thought crosses your mind: when had he managed to remove his claws? Two fingers slowly, methodically, slip inside you, moving in perfect harmony to bring you ever closer to release. Your breaths come in desperate gasps, each one short and ragged, as the pressure inside you mounts. 

Just as you feel yourself teetering on the brink of falling, Amaimon suddenly pulls away, leaving you breathless. A soft whimper escapes your lips at the unexpected absence of contact, but he quickly silences you with a passionate kiss. The taste of you lingers on his lips, intertwined with the rich sweetness of chocolate and cream, forming an intoxicating blend that overwhelms your senses. 

"Not yet," he murmurs against your mouth. 

Amaimon stares at you for a moment, his blank expression revealing nothing about his thoughts before he reaches for the whipped cream again. A slight smirk gradually replaces his vacant look as he sprays a generous dollop onto your chest and then drizzles chocolate over it in swirling patterns. The cool sensation makes you shiver as he leans down to lick it up, his tongue tracing intricate designs across your skin. 

You run your fingers through his hair, arching into his touch as his ministrations become both methodical and playful, savoring each taste with delightful intent. When he finishes, he pulls you closer, capturing your lips in another heated kiss, allowing the flavors to mingle beautifully between you. 

Your hands explore his body, following the lean muscles of his back and chest. You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh as he grinds against you. With a swift motion, you flip your positions, straddling his hips as you look down at him. 

"My turn," you murmur, your voice quavering slightly as you attempt to hide your nervousness. You reach out, your fingers gliding over the cool metal can of whipped cream. 

You shake the can vigorously before spraying a line down his chest and stomach. Following it with a drizzle of chocolate, you create your own intricate design across his pale skin. 

Amaimon's eyes deepen with longing as he observes you lean down to taste your creation. Your tongue traces the patterns of chocolate and cream across his cool skin, savoring the sweetness mixed with his unique flavor. You take your time, alternating between gentle licks and playful nips, mirroring his earlier actions. 

As you work your way down his body, you can feel him growing more restless beneath you. His hands grip your hips, fingers flexing as if he's struggling to maintain control. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you glance up at him, awaiting his approval. He only narrows his eyes, irritated by your delay. 

You swiftly remove his belt and unfasten his pants, then gently slide them down along with his underwear. His arousal springs free, and you can't help but lick your lips at the sight. Amaimon's breath hitches as you wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly. 

"_____," he growls, his voice low and husky with need. 

You maintain eye contact as you lower your head, your tongue darting out to taste the drop of pre-cum at his tip. Amaimon's hips buck involuntarily, a low moan escaping his lips. You take him into your mouth, savoring the taste and feel of him. Your tongue swirls around his length as you bob your head, setting a steady rhythm.

Amaimon's fingers tangle in your hair, adding some pressure without shoving your head down on him. His breathing grows ragged as you work, alternating between long, slow licks and quick, teasing sucks. You can feel him tensing beneath you, getting close to the edge. 

Just as he did to you earlier, you pull back before he can find release. Amaimon growls in frustration, his eyes shimmering with a mix of desire and annoyance. You silence him with a deep kiss, positioning yourself over him. 

"Ready?" you ask, your voice breathy with anticipation. 

In response, Amaimon grips your hips and quickly pulls you down onto him in one smooth motion. You both gasp at the sensation as he fills you completely. For a moment, you stay still, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you. 

You began with a slow, teasing pace, savoring the sensation of Amaimon inside you. His hands grip your hips, guiding your movements as you rock against him. 

Amaimon's eyes are dark with desire as he watches you move above him. He thrusts up to meet your downward motions, driving himself deeper. A low moan escapes your lips at the increased friction. 

"Faster," Amaimon growls, his claws digging into your skin. 

You quickly obey, increasing your speed. The room is soon filled with the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin, accompanied by your combined gasps and moans. Amaimon abruptly sits up, encircling your waist with his arm to draw you tightly against him. This change in position ensures he hits precisely the right spot with each thrust. 

Your nails glide down his back, leaving marks as waves of pleasure wash over you. Amaimon buries his face in the curve of your neck, his sharp teeth gently grazing your skin. The subtle hint of danger only serves to intensify your arousal. 

Amaimon senses your growing need. With a swift motion, he flips your positions, pinning you beneath him without breaking your connection. His thrusts become more forceful, more urgent, as he drives you both towards release.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your nails rake down his back as the pleasure intensifies, leaving faint red marks that quickly fade. Amaimon buries his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

Your fingers weave through Amaimon's hair, holding him close as he peppers your neck with kisses and playful nips. The contrasting sensations of pleasure and the sharp, teasing sting of his teeth send delightful shivers through you. Each powerful thrust intensifies the pressure building within, a tension coiling ever tighter, threatening to unravel at any moment.

Amaimon's thrusts become more frantic as you both near your peak. His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss, silencing your moans. You can feel the tension building within you, a coiling heat ready to snap. 

"Let go," Amaimon growls against your lips. "Come for me, _____." 

His words and a particularly deep thrust send you over the edge. Your back arches as waves of pleasure crash over you, Amaimon's name falling from your lips in a breathless cry. Your inner walls clench around him, pulling him deeper. 

Amaimon follows you moments later, his hips stuttering as he finds his release. He buries his face in your neck, muffling his groan against your skin. You can feel the warm rush of his essence filling you as he pulses inside you. 

For a long moment, you both remain still, catching your breath. Amaimon's weight on top of you is comforting, grounding you as you come down from your high. Eventually, he rolls to the side, pulling you with him so that you're draped across his chest. 

You lazily trace patterns on his skin, feeling the sticky residue of chocolate and cream that still lingers. Amaimon's fingers gently comb through your hair, his touch soothing and tender. You both lie in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the warm afterglow.

"We should probably clean up," you murmur after a moment, though you still make no move to get up.

Amaimon hums in agreement but tightens his arm around you. "In a minute," he says, his voice low and content.

You snuggle closer, inhaling his distinct scent intertwined with the lingering sweetness of dessert. Your eyes begin to flutter closed as the exhaustion from your earlier activities washes over you.

Just as you're about to doze off, Amaimon speaks up. "Next time, we should try ice cream."

[hmshermitcraft]

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.

[ahedderick]

The Power

My 'alone weekend' took an abrupt left turn Saturday evening just after nine. Roommate has stopped by after his barn chores to say hi and fill me in on Horse Gossip. (Leo, btw, will be leaving Wednesday to visit some mares at a stable in the east part of the county. A pony with Difficulties will be brought here to a) keep Hero from being lonely and b) let Roommate work on her Difficulties.

As we were chatting I heard the wind pick up, then distant lightning and thunder. He scuttled out to try to get chores at Home Farm done before the storm truly hit. But, no. Within minutes there was a gale blowing and rain just pounding down. I started trying to prepare for loss of power as soon as he left, by running a pitcher of water for drinking, then running a bucket of water in the bathroom for washing and flushing the toilet. I got half the bucket full, then the power cut out. Well water is drawn to the surface by a pump, so once power is out, water is also out.

I got one of the chunky square emergency lights and went to bed with my book. Twenty minutes later, the emergency light died.

In the morning, power had not yet returned. I waited until 7 and called my husband, who was visiting his sisters in PA. I then dragged the generator, which is a heavy bitch and has no good way to move it without wrecking your back, out of the woodshed and across the yard. I strung three extension cords from the generator to the freezers and fridge. I was reasonably certain I'd never be able to get the generator started, but I was going through the motions. At that point, Roommate's truck rolled up the lane. Husband had called him.

There are three switches that need to be set on the generator, then a pull cord to start it. Sparing you tedious details, Roommate did everything to start that stupid generator. Both of us getting frustrated, we went back down to Home Farm to get their generator, which was thankfully a bit smaller and easier to lug. Sparing you more details, that one also would not run. It would start, but wouldn't stay running.

Roommate was clearly reluctant to leave me without power, but he was overdue to leave to visit his parents downstate. And he had clearly tried everything in his power. I told him he was a good Bonus Child and he should go on about his day.

Husband, trying to work on the problem from three hours away, texted a neighbor. Around 10:30, that lovely man arrived with his small 'deer camp' generator. That kept our food from spoiling as the day rolled along, and the power stayed out. When my husband came home in the early afternoon, he was able to get the smaller of our generators running; Roommate in his flusterment had neglected to flip one crucial switch.

We ended up going out for dinner. Power wasn't restored until sometime in the night. yay (tiredly)

[mrs-johansson]

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🔥

[yandecifi]

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.

[hannahssimblr]

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

[therealstacyfakename]

🎣🎣

heyyy bestie I have a snippet of my bucktommy fisherman fic a week later. hope you enjoy and this isn't terrible

this section is the first night buck is on the coast, there for the summer to work for Tommy

Tommy’s DVD collection sat below his mounted TV, his favorites neatly organized by title in the shelves below. Evan crouched down and started pulling titles before he peered up at Tommy. “You really still have DVDs?”

Tommy chuckled. “Internet around here is unreliable as hell so streaming kind of sucks, and I like having them to hold.” He crouched down next to Evan and reached for his copy of ‘Singin in the Rain’. “Besides, if something I like is going to get taken off a streaming service if I own a hard copy.”

Evan considered it and nodded, seeming to accept that Tommy was in the dark ages technologically. Then he stood up and moved to the kitchen. Tommy showed him where he kept everything. The kitchen was well stocked, his pantry was full and he had almost every gadget someone needed. Lonely winters had turned him into a foodie by necessity.

Then he showed Evan into the garage to show him his freezer and garage fridge. He kept the spoils of his monthly Costco trips in there as well as the fresh meat he was usually given by friends who had just gone hunting.

Finally they went back to Evan’s room so Tommy could show him the bathrooms and his study.

Tommy gestured across the hall from Evan’s space. “That’s my bedroom.” He pointed at the room next to it. The door was ajar and you could see his wall of old books and half-full book case with more DVDs. “That’s my study. It was a third bedroom but I like to use it to work or paint. If you ever need a desk feel free to do stuff in there.”

Evan nodded and peeked his head inside. “You really a film buff huh?”

“Not much else to do around here I’m afraid.” Tommy acquiesced.

Evan wandered back into the kitchen. “So what should we do for dinner?”

Tommy, caught off guard by Evan implying they’d eat together, quickly recovered and started listing the restaurants in town. Evan picked the fish and chips stand and they headed out.

It was half a mile away and they decided to walk, Evan was clearly tired of the winding roads.

Dave’s Fish and Chips was a Twin Rocks institution, a greasy divey looking spot that always had a light flickering and a fryer running. When they walked inside and the bell rang it immediately caught Sal’s attention. Sal was Dave’s son, now running his dad’s restaurant when he wasn’t down at the fish market in Ashton.

Sal came around the counter and half shouted. “Hey Tommy! What are you doing in here? Isn’t eight a little past your bedtime?” This time of year, before the summer season kicked off and the tourists swarmed the town Sal manned the register.

Tommy walked up to the till and gave him a nod. “You know the season hasn’t started yet. Besides I’m here to show my new deck hand around. Too bad you’re here.” He turned to give Evan a conspiratorial look. “It’ll be shit if this is the guy cooking.”

Sal guffawed and smacked Tommy on the shoulder. “Ugh you sure you wanna work for this guy? What’s your name by the way?”

Clearly caught off guard by being addressed, Evan snapped his head in Sal’s direction and replied. “Oh Evan. Evan Buckley it’s nice to meet you.” The kid stammered before reaching over to shake Sal’s hand.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Evan, and if you’re going to work for this clown for the summer I’ll just have to take pity on you and make sure you eat well.”

They gave their orders and sat inside. There weren’t any other customers.

Tommy watched Evan scarf down his food so fast it made his head spin and tried to ask him some questions about his life between swallows. Evan was a bit closed off about it but did share that he had a sister and a brother who passed. He’d tried business school bud hadn’t liked it and dropped out, and for the past few years had been driving around the country trying different trades. He didn’t mention his parents and Tommy wanted to commiserate about having shitty dads before he pulled back, he didn’t know this kid or want to cross any lines.

Evan spent most of the meal asking Tommy about the local marine and plant life. Growing up on the east coast he seemed to still be in awe over the sea, mountains, and temperate weather.

Eventually, with the meal finished and some more razzing from Sal, Evan and Tommy walked back home.

He got Evan some towels for the bathroom and told him about his plan for the following day then they said their goodnights.

Laying in bed, trying not to think about Evan’s curls or his birthmark, Tommy realized he was going to be fucked this season. Evan was cute. His smile was bright and his curiosity about the coast was palpable. He was also going to leave at the end of the summer, if not sooner once Tommy let his affections be known and scared the boy away. 

[allter01]

A Three Headed Hound

Canon Divergence | Word Count:3217

Characters:Idia Shroud, (Human) Ortho Shroud, (Android) Ortho Shroud, Other Background Characters

Possible CW(s):Allusions of Infertility, Cursing, Technically spoilers for book 6

The lady made her way to her youngest and began to pet the boy’s flaming blue hair, “My darling, what are you doing up this late? It's nearly two in the morning.”

Continuing his task the boy admitted, “Oh my apologies mama, I tried earlier to make a cake, but the ingredient ratio was off. So I am attempting again after learning of this error.”

Taking her hand away from the boy’s head, bringing them instead next to his hands, “Here let me help. I would rather you not over mix the batter by accident.”

Handing the bowl and mixer to the woman, he smiled up, “Thank you, mama. Could you also help with picking the frosting colors, I know big brother likes most hues of blue, along with lavender.” With that the preteen walked over to the fridge pulling out a large container of white buttercream along with multiple little bottles of different food colorings.

Cerber picked out a few bottles and held them up for his mother to see, she finally answered, “I think your brother would like cobalt blue as a base and lavender as an accent. Have you thought of a design?”

The android nodded before pulling up a hologram showing a picture of a fancy cake with swirling trims made of buttercream. She nodded in agreement before vocalizing, “Nice choice. Though make sure to keep quiet I would rather your brothers not know about your surprise, I’ll keep an eye out and notify you if they attempt to come into the kitchen, my darling.” With that she handed the bowl back to her youngest and made her way over to the fridge pulling out white milk and pouring herself a bowl of cereal. Coming back to the island counter she kissed the boy’s temple, “I’ll be back later to clean up the mess, make sure you’re charged for the morning. Good night, I love you.”

As she made her way out the doors the boy whispered back, “Good night mama, I love you too.”

Though before the door could shut she quickly added, “Happy birthday, my darling!”

————————————————

Idia sneaked back into his shared playroom, luckily avoiding the guards stationed around, quietly sitting back down next to his younger brother. He made no attempt to tell his younger brother what he heard when the elder was eavesdropping on their parents, instead asking his younger brother, “Do you thi-, Do you want a younger sibling?”

Continuing to fiddle with a robot cat model, Ortho smiled up at his brother with a beaming smile and wide eyes, ”You know this already, big brother, I want one just like mama and papa does.”

Not wanting to look his brother in the eyes he instead turned his attention to the strings of his oversized hoodie and finally mumbled out ”I know, but I’m not sure if they can have another child.” With that he shoved his head under the hood on the jacket and tightened the strings, now only showing his mouth along with the tip of his nose.

Ortho tilted his head to the side and questioned, “what do you mean by that? What did you hear when you went after mama and papa?”

With his hood still tightened he stuttered out, “Something’s wrong with them, from what I got they have some type of medical problem making them unable to have anymore kids.”

Instead of what Idia expected his younger brother would say, he instead innocently smiled up, “Well we could just build us another sibling. I know that S.T.Y.X. has started making android prototypes.” It looked like Ortho wanted to say more but looked down in bashfulness, now staring blankly at the moving tail of the cat model before whispering, “I mean you're getting better and better at programming, all we would need is a physical body.”

Finally, Idia exited his hoodie cocoon and looked over to his younger brother, “Ok, we can do that for mama and papa, do you have any ideas?”

————————————————

Ortho stretched his hand from where he sat, sliding it over the cold metal plating that partly encased the humanoid endoskeleton, the boy could only sigh at the secret project he and his brother were working on that was put on hold due to the accident not long ago. It’s surprising the boy made it to this room without being caught by the overbearing medical team who saved him from his death. Though even they couldn’t save everything though mostly parts of his left arm and leg, now making him further bound to his home besides the blood that runs in his veins.

Looking over the android body, one that was nearly finished with the exoskeleton just needed to be put on. The only trouble the boy and his brother had was making the android properly alive. While the boy attempted to fix the programming the sound of metal moving from the door opening pulled him out of it. Without turning to look, the boy shouted, “Leave me alone, Don’t move me, I want to stay here!”

Instead of the usual people who would swarm him for leaving by himself a feminine voice answered, “Well I wasn’t going to move you anyway.”

Quickly looking over the blue haired boy saw a taller woman shrouded in a black cloak covering both her head and body, now panicking the boy starting to try moving while stuttering out, “Who are you?”

The lady let out a silent chuckle before remarking, “Well, I’m definitely not a parent, nor an older brother or an employee.” The woman made no attempt to get closer instead stationing herself in front of the now closed door.

The boy after multiple attempts moved himself to fully face the woman, now with more confidence demanded, “Then how did you get here? This island isn’t known by the outside world.”

Instead of properly answering, the woman instead looked over at his work and inquired, “What exactly are you doing?” Though before he could answer she added with an audible smile, “It looks very nice.”

At the obvious compliment the boy preened at the praise, now basically forgetting his previous hostility he replied, “I’m trying to make a proper android with proper intelligence. Though I can’t seem to actually get him to come alive.”

The excitement allowed for the lady to move closer, now she was able to peer over the entire body. The woman studied the body before turning her attention back to Ortho, “Do you know what alchemy is?”

The boy from the wheelchair looked up to the cloaked women, asking, “The subject?”

The woman brought a pink hand from under the cloak to touch the wires along the androids’ open chest, “Yes, one of its core principles is the law of equivalent exchange. Meaning that to create something you need to give up something.”

Ortho observed the lady’s hand and questioned, “What does that have to do with the android?”

Bringing back her hand and without looking away from the body she answered, “You are attempting to create an entire person out of metal and programming, it will not work. You need to give up something else for him to live properly.“

Weighing his options Ortho finally caved, “What do I need to give?“

With a shrug of her shoulders she answered, “Just some of your soul.”

Observing the cloaked woman he questioned, “What do you mean, part of my soul?” Now bringing his right hand over the chest in doubt.

She chuckled before clarifying, “I mean that with my help, you’ll be able to bring him alive. Though another way would be using a mage stone, which will cause a whole lot of problems.”

Looking between the android and the lady, “So if I give a part of my life I can bring him alive?“

Confirming with a nod the lady brought her hand back to the metal body, cupping it to the completed face before nodding.

Taking in a sharp breath the boy tried to come off as confident, “Ok, how do I do it?”

Pulling her hand from the android's face she moved to fully face the sitting boy, “With my help this will be much easier and safer compared to doing this by yourself.” With that the lady brought a hand to his chest before grabbing onto something invisible in front of him. It was strange, feeling like fingers were poking around his chest even if she hadn’t even touched him. Though it numbed at the lady seemed to pull at the transparent object. Once the item was snapped in half she brought one hand back to his chest, while the other hand was brought to the android‘s body, placing it where a heart would sit.

Though there was no pain that followed the whole experience the boy felt drained of energy. The drowsiness overtook Ortho forcing him to lean onto the desktop that the android laid on. Not long after a hand started to rub his back lulling the boy into a deep sleep, something he hasn’t had for a while now.

The loud whirring of a motor woke Ortho up from the best sleep he had in forever. Looking up from the cold table top there sat a pair of similar amber yellow eyes, the boy could feel himself almost cry from relief, it actually worked. Ortho brought his right hand up to touch the now alive boy's face, cupping the cold metal cheek he smiled at his little brother from where he sat. A sharp tooth smile was mirrored on the other boy after a second as the youngest Shroud seemed to study Ortho’s face and emotions.

The steps of another brought him back to reality, as the lady who helped him made her way back to the door. Though before she could he had to ask, “What’s your name?” Without acknowledging the boy the lady continued on, though blooming asphodels appeared where her feet once were. Realizing who exactly it was, Ortho’s face broke out into a grin and he shouted to the dissolving figure, “Thank you, Lady Dread Per-!” Though before he could finish the door whirled open with three figures standing behind.

Idia practically threw himself to his injured brother, “Ortho! There you are, you shouldn’t be out of bed!” While his parents slowly made their way into the hidden lab, surprised at it being here this entire time.

As Idia started to fret over his younger brother, his focus quickly shifted to the moving body on the table. Looking back and forth at the two younger blue haired children, the eldest walked up to his now youngest brother, smiling down at him. Their parents moving closer to the three startled Idia, who hesitated before clarifying, “Mom, Dad, this is our brother, we didn’t want to give him a name before telling you, since we wanted him to also be your son too.”

Looking away, Idia didn’t see his parents move closer, his mother standing at Ortho's side, while his father stood behind him, looking down at the newest addition of the Shroud family.

————————————————

The banging of metal against metal woke the teen from his sleep. Looking over at his alarm clock it read ’11:20’ on the dot, with a groan he rolled out of bed to open the door. Before he could react, confetti went flying, hitting the teen in the face and two people shouting, “Happy Birthday!” There stands Orthos’ two brothers in gaudy birthday hats and party favors.

Wiping away the confetti from his face, Ortho groggily remarked, ”Hi Idy, hi Bug. Also happy birthday to you too, baby brother. But was this all necessary, it’s not even twelve yet.” Moving closer to the door the teen leaned his body onto the doorframe looking as if he was going to go back to sleep. Though before he could, a metal hand latched onto his own dragging him from the comfort of his room to the illuminated hall that was too bright compared to his dim room.

With that Cerber latched his other hand onto Idia’s hoodie and dragged both older brothers to the kitchen, chirping, “Come on, I have a surprise for you, big brother!” As they made their way past stationed guards and workers, there were shouts and comments wishing the two brothers happy birthday.

Though once the three brothers made it to the kitchen, it was pitch black before the lights turned on and multiple people around the kitchen island shouting, “Happy birthday!” There stood their parents along with their cousin Talia and a few other guests the family was close with.

Not long after Cerber pulled a birthday hat over Ortho’s head before dragging him along to sit in front of the simple but beautiful cake, while Idia quietly followed behind them. After the usual song and tradition of blowing out candles, their father took away the cake to cut. Then came the presents there were the usual one would expect, from figurines the boys like to other items.

The two brothers got a mixture of gifts from figurines to other things of interest, not long after their father brought out slices of cakes. The guest chatted away from work to family, the Idia walking up to his younger brothers holding wrapped gifts, placing one down in front of each of his brother, going up to hug the two, “Happy Birthday, now h-” The shuttering of a polarized camera interrupted Idia, looking over the three brothers saw their mother gushing over her children, holding their cousins camera.

The tips of Idia’s hair turned hot pink and turned to his distant cousin, “Talia! You normie! Why did you give her more embarrassing pictures to flaunt!”

The older teen, who was kneeling on the floor while an unknown girl braided the water hair her family has been known for, shoving more cake into her mouth, she rebutted, “Aunty Kora needs newer pictures of you, Candlestick. Not my fault you haven’t willingly taken a good picture since you were twelve.”

As the two cousins bickered Cerber opened up his gift, revealing multiple packs of mint condition TCG cards that haven’t been produced in over ten years. Cerber turned to Ortho, who was watching the drama unfold, signaling him to open up his own gift. Ripping open the box, the teen pulled out a giant cat plushy, matching his ever growing collection of stuffed animals in his room.

The two were going to thank their elder brother, though they were stopped by their father placing a hand on both of their shoulders. Idia moved closer to the two girls, still peeved and pointed at the Brunette who continued on braiding Talia's long hair, “Who even are you? How did you even get in?”

Their mother followed after Idia seeing how this will play out, while Talia deadpanned, “She’s my girlfriend you sack of shi-”

Their father’s steady voice interrupted, “Language, not in front of the younger kids.” Idia stood in confusion looking between the two girls, mouth gaped before being dragged by their mother to help clean up.

Ortho pouted at his fathers words, “Pops, I’m old enough stop babying me.”

Cerber turned to Ortho, questioning, “What about me?”

Ortho pinched the youngest cheeks and teasing, “Nope, you’re just a baby. Don’t go around repeating those words.” Making the youngest pout at his insistence. Before his attention shifted to the cards.

After Talia’s hair was done, she brought her girlfriend to the three shroud men. Pointing out the boys’ father, “This is my uncle, Aideen. Uncle, this is my girlfriend, Maren.”

After proper introductions and the small party settling, Ortho declared to his younger brother, “Follow me, I need to give you your birthday gift.” As the two brothers left the kitchen they maneuvered through the twisting halls finally making it to the once secret lab that now held old parts for Cerber.

There sat on the lab table, two hounds though they were metal instead of flesh, Cerber tilted his head to the side before asking, “What are these hounds for, big brother?”

Ortho chuckled before revealing, “This right here is a gift, for you specifically. You know how I like to make prosthetics for both animals and humans? Well, I wanted to try something new, an entire droid.”

Walking up to the table, Ortho pressed a button on each hound, “Mama helped me but I still consider it my work, I would like you to meet CB-RS01 and CB-RS02.” The two canine droids came alive and with Ortho’s signal circled the younger Shroud, before one, 02, rolled over showing its stomach allowing the boy to pet it, which it enjoyed from its pleased yapping, while the other, 01, sat down though continued to be on guard, fitting for a guard dog.

While the three got acquainted with each other, Ortho tinkered away at a spare arm that was giving him some problems. After a bit the quietness caught his attention, turning around to find the three snuggled up together, though not asleep. Finally, Cerber piped up, “Have you decided which school you’re going to yet?”

Ortho sighed, ”Nah, I mean I’ve got accepted to both RSA and NRC but each got their own pros and cons. Like RSA has so many robotic opportunities but I just know the kids there are gonna be annoying you know. On the other hand you and big brother are at NRC but I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.”

Cerber rebutted, “Hey!”

Ortho turned back to his work confessing, “Like not in a bad way, cause I know you’ll both try to get involved in my business. Like the time I was friends with that guy online, you threatened to dox him and blow up his house, while Idia promised to put him in debt for life if he did anything.”

Cerber crossed his arms and retorted, “That was reasonable, the guy was a total *beep*! He was just gonna use you to gain fans for his channel, there were receipts of him admitting that.”

Ortho could only sigh, “I know, Bug. But I would still like some semblance of normalcy, you know.” Though his mood lightened before asking, “On the topic of personal businesses, has big brother even attempted to make IRL friends?”

Cerber rolled his eyes at the nosiness of his brother, “You already know this, he tries to avoid all physical interactions, I have to drag him out of his room just for quizzes.”

Ortho chuckled, “When do you think he’ll finally get a girlfriend?”

Cerber added, “Or a boyfriend, from past observation I’m 89.6% sure that he is also romantically attracted to guys.”

Not even questioning the boy’s weirdness, Ortho nonchalant smirked, “Damn he really doesn’t get any bitches.” Looking down at his spare prosthetic he added, “Don’t tell him I said that, he’s gonna hack into the Wi-Fi again and take away my internet access.”

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Mini Rant

If you read all the way through thank you! This is my first time posting so I’m not sure if everything is tagged correctly, either way I just want to try using Tumblr. Also I do plan on posting this to my AO3 account in a day or two, with better tags.