#But Scout is mortified
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get lost or im gonna draw your mother again.
HEY DONT U DARE BRING MY MA IN TO THIS
#tf2#tf2 scout#scout speaks#Scout will bonk anyone who so much as mentions his mother#Spy has experienced this first hand#Scout's ma probably loves the drawings of her#She would be flattered#But Scout is mortified
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I keep forgetting to post these! So, here are the Merc paintings I did for class projects lmao
They're mini studies of artists. In order: Nebojsa Zdravkovic, Michael Borremans, Michael Leonard, Odd Nerdrum, and Masami Teraoka
#gopher art#team fortress 2#tf2 medic#tf2 heavy#red oktoberfest#heavymedic#tf2 spy#tf2 sniper#tf2 engineer#tf2 scout#they're a little crusty because the images are postcard sized#the first 4 are acrylic paint. the last one is watercolor#yes i did post the first one before. i've just been waiting to post the others#partially in case my prof were to. like. reverse image search and find these#that would be mortifying
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Lolol, Aira thought he had been sneaky and that Eichi and Rei didn't know Aira had bought their merch too. Eichi and Rei went "futile efforts, we've known since long ago". 😂
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in fucking tears i played my scout playlist while cooking with my friend and naturally sexbomb came on and i just never considered that he had never heard it? and he just turns to me and says "what the fuck is this" and i didnt think i'd have to defend myself here
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hi victoria!!! i love ur pogue!sweetheart!reader and i was wondering if u could do a lil hurt/comfort thing where one of rafes friends tells reader she talks too much/is too loud and she gets super upset? i’m a super big crybaby and i talk a LOT and i’d love to see how you write how rafey defends n comforts her :,)
warnings: protective!rafe, topper and kelce are pretty mean in this one >:(, rafe defends you <3, sight angst, fluff, rafe being the king of reassurance
a/n: i have personal beef with anyone who tells ppl to quiet down when they’re excited for something, or just naturally outgoing. also idk how to play poker so excuse the way i explained it if it’s incorrect lol
before you, friday nights were always reserved for rafe and his friends, the group of them either going out for a beer or staying in and betting money on card games. but now? rafe spent his friday nights buried inside of you, both of you laughing and kissing each other in the dark until one of you fell asleep first. and rafe wouldn’t have it any other way. his friends however, weren’t very fond of your boyfriend choosing you over them.
which would explain their impromptu visit while you two were mid-makeout session. “so this is why she has you locked away, huh?” you jumped, rafe covering you with a throw blanket as he slipped his shirt on. “what the fuck, guys?!” rafe glared at kelce and topper, your skin hot with embarrassment. “you left the door unlocked, playboy.” topper pushed a twelve pack of beers into rafe’s chest, the pair of friends walking to the kitchen.
“are you okay, baby?” rafe leaned down, wanting nothing more than to sucker punch his idiot friends for making you feel mortified. “i’m in my bra and panties!” you whispered, scrambling up from the couch and running up the stairs to rafe’s bedroom. rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing under his breath before meeting topper and kelce in the kitchen. “y’all should’ve called me or something.” his tone was harsh, kelce holding his hands up defensively.
“she has you so pussy whipped bro, would you have even answered?” no, the answer was no. “it doesn’t matter, you two shouldn’t have walked in like that.” topper scoffed, popping open a can of beer. “chill, man, we just came to see our boy,” kelce slapped rafe’s shoulder, “and beat your ass at poker.” he added. rafe laughed, muttering a ‘not a chance.’ before going upstairs to check on you. “y/n?” you were fixing your disheveled hair, your lips still swollen from your previous activities.
“hey..” you turned, rafe pulling you in for a hug. “why don’t you come downstairs? be my lucky charm for the game we’re gonna play.” you shook your head, recalling topper’s words from earlier; ‘so this is why she has you locked away, huh?’ locked away? really? “i better not, you should go have your ‘bro’ time, i know it’s been awhile..” you smiled, hoping he didn’t catch the way your gaze faltered. he did. “i want you with me.” he pecked the tip of your nose, your eyes shutting momentarily.
“what if they don’t, though?” rafe was already dressing you, waving off your words. “well then they can leave.” he shrugged. you sighed, letting him walk you downstairs where topper and kelce had the game set up on the table. “the girl scout is joining us?” you didn’t miss the way topper exchanged looks with the boy on his right. “yes, she is. is there a problem?” kelce mumbled a ‘no.’, followed by an awkward clearing of his throat.
rafe pulled you onto his lap, the guys starting the game as you rested your head against his chest. you didn’t know a thing about poker, your lips quirking every time your boyfriend shouted excitedly. “there’s no way!” topper slammed his losing cards on the table, “i have nothing!” kelce was getting frustrated, the chances of him winning decreasing with each turn. “if i flip this card and it’s right, i take all of this.” the guys had already put in well over four hundred dollars, the tension in the room incredibly thick.
“with this money we’ll get you that mixer you been wanting, how does that sound?” you nodded, both you and rafe leaning forward in anticipation. as soon as rafe turned his last card over, you screamed, jumping up as topper and kelce heads fell down in defeat. it was the first time you had even opened your mouth tonight, and kelce wasted no time in shutting you down. “calm down, do you really have to be so loud?” your smile dropped, along with rafe’s. “forreal.” topper glared at you before pushing the money in your direction.
“what’s up y’all’s asses? she’s just cheering,” rafe pulled you to his side, “just a reminder that you two came here on your own accord and interrupted us, not the other way around.” in that moment you felt like a little girl again, always having someone to tell you to quiet down and suppress your excitement. you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes, their judgmental looks making you want to disappear. prior to you and rafe being together, topper and kelce had always been nice to you, but all of that seemed to go out the door when your boyfriend stopped participating in their little get togethers.
“we hardly see you anymore, bro, we just don’t understand why she can’t lay off sometimes.” topper looked over at you, his jaw ticking as rafe laughed bitterly. you couldn’t believe your ears. if only they knew how much you encouraged rafe to hang out with them. “has it ever occurred to you that maybe i rather spend my time with my girlfriend than hanging out with you two? get the fuck out of my house.” topper and kelce looked like they were at a loss for words, both of them apologizing to you under their breath.
“and not that it matters anymore, ‘cause you two are so convinced that she has me trapped in her evil lair somewhere, but she encouraged me to come down here by myself before i dragged her along with me. you don’t even know what you’re talking about.” rafe basically pushed them out before shouting, “and i’m keeping the beers assholes!”
rafe shut the front door, making sure to lock it this time before he scooped you up in his arms. “don’t cry, sweetheart, they’re both idiots.” you sniffled, laughing softly. rafe smiled at the fact that he knew how to make you feel better. “talk my ear off while i order that mixer, i love hearing your voice.”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks smut#outer banks imagine#rafe outer banks#obx#obx rafe#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic
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Lover Boy
Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.
Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.
3.5k
The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.
You were mortified.
One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.
There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.
You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.
Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.
Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.
'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'
You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.
Again, mortified.
He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.
But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.
He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.
"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"
"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."
You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.
"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.
"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.
"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."
Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.
"You want to help me find a man?"
Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.
"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"
It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.
You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.
At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.
"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.
Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.
All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.
The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.
"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."
"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.
"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."
It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.
"Please don't go."
But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.
"You're running out of time, punk."
The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.
For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.
But it still hurt.
A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.
But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.
"Get out of the car."
You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.
He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.
"No."
He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.
"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."
His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.
Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.
"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.
The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.
"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.
But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.
"What's gotten into you?"
"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."
You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?
"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."
The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.
"Let me take you home."
As if you had a choice.
You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.
So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.
But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.
"You're unhappy."
"No shit."
"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."
"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"
You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.
"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.
He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.
But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.
"We're friends, Buck."
You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.
"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"
And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.
"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."
You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.
And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.
When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.
"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."
"Bucky-"
But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.
"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.
"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.
It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.
"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.
Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.
"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."
It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.
"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.
"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."
The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.
Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.
Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.
The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.
You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.
He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.
Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.
You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.
And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.
Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.
You're a vision.
Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.
There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.
He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.
And then the car jerked to a stop.
There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.
That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.
Bucky doesn't share your distress.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.
You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.
If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.
As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.
"This isn't my place."
His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.
"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"
And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.
#mob!bucky x reader#mob!bucky#mob!au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#the carriage scene#bucky barnes#lover boy
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in which the inquisitor is a little too comfortable around her vhenan.
image description in alt text and also below the cut
A 4 panel comic. Panel 1: The camera is framed so that Cassandra Pentaghast's head is in the bottom of the panel, and the subjects of the panel - Inquisitor Lavellan and Solas - are in the back. Solas hands the Inquisitor a paper and says, "Good morning. I brought the latest reports from the scouts." Inquisitor Lavellan puts her hand on the small of his back and says "Ah, thank you. Good boy." Panel 2: The Inquisitor, realizing what she just said, has an absolutely mortified expression, and so does Solas. In the background, Cassandra and Varric Tethras stare on in varying states of shock. Panel 3: A close up of Cassandra (horrified and blushing) and Varric (shocked, but thrilled by how hilarious this is). Panel 4: A shot of all four of them. Solas looks away from everyone else with a thousand yard stare and thinks, "Is this it? Is this how it all finally ends?" The Inquisitor has turned to yell at Varric, who is saying "DORIAN'S NEVER GONNA FUCKING BELIEVE THIS" and cackling. The Inquisitor interrupts him by saying, "NOT A WORD, TETHRAS." Cassandra is refusing to look at anyone, and says weakly, "Could someone point me to the nearest body of water so that I might drown myself."
#dragon age#solavellan#solas#varric tethras#cassandra pentaghast#dragon age: inquisition#dai#inquisitor lavellan#lavellan#fanart#oc stuff#menae#had a lot of fun with this one for obvious reasons lol#just WAIT until she finds out you're the dread wolf white boy you're never gonna hear the end of it
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Rhythms
124k, 17 chapters, E, complete and on Ao3.
TK swoons when he discovers a sentimental scrapbook full of notes he and Carlos have left for each other – but he also unearths a book of poems that closeted teen-Carlos wrote about his struggles, including a few dedicated to his high school crush. An adorably mortified Carlos recalls the stir he caused when he was published anonymously in the high school paper, and everything he went through to write his wedding vows for TK years later. With TK as a hype-man, maybe Carlos can embrace his creative side again.
Read on Ao3
Chapter 1 - Love Heart: The day after TK and Carlos’ first wedding anniversary, TK is sent home from work sick. Back at the loft unexpectedly, he makes a surprising discovery about Carlos.
Chapter 2 - Club Can't Handle Me: In 2011, sixteen-year-old Carlos is both in the closet and in his high school’s wrestling team – and it’s all a bit too much. Perhaps against his better judgment, he turns to poetry and makes a decision that will change his life.
Chapter 3 - Crossroads: Daydreaming about his wedding vows mid-drive, Carlos gets pulled over for a traffic violation – and Gabriel isn’t happy. Reunited with TK, Carlos might be lost for words, but he finds another way to express his love and desire.
Chapter 4 - The Wrestler: Carlos’ poems are published – and he quickly learns there’s no putting the genie back into the bottle.
Chapter 5 - A Gay Fantasia: In the aftermath of being abducted by a serial killer, Carlos reflects on recent events and resumes work on his wedding vows.
Chapter 6 - La Tormenta: Carlos is devastated when Scott gets a girlfriend, and he finds himself in another snowballing situation.
Chapter 7 - Soulmates: When TK has a Huntington’s disease scare, Carlos finds he knows exactly what to say. But will it help him with his writer’s block when it comes to his wedding vows?
Chapter 8 - Man of Mystery: It’s the day of the Lake View High School Talent Show – and will the real Shadow Poet please stand up?
Chapter 9 - Crush: In 2011, it’s make or break for sixteen year old Carlos at the talent show. In 2024, TK becomes the hype man Carlos had needed over a decade ago.
Chapter 10 - From Behind: A couple of weeks before the wedding, Carlos is still working on his vows when a deeper rift develops between him and his dad. In 2012, seventeen year-old Carlos is spiraling after coming out to his parents.
Chapter 11 - The Other Wrestler: TK decides to lift Carlos’ spirits by learning how to wrestle.
Chapter 12 - Carlos Reyes Will Be Okay: At Gabriel’s funeral, Carlos regrets saying no to reading a poem in tribute – but during the wake, he finds himself under a whole new pressure. Later that night, he realizes the vows he’s worked so hard on for TK cannot be spoken yet.
Chapter 13 - The Closet: Despite some good news, Carlos ends up in the doghouse with his mom and with TK.
Chapter 14 - Once in a Blue Moon: Reeling from his confrontation with Andrea, Carlos seeks advice and admits a secret.
Chapter 15 - Raining on Prom Night: In May 2012, chaos erupts at Carlos’ senior prom.
Chapter 16 - Tyler Kennedy Strand: The wedding day arrives, and Carlos finally gets to recite his vows to TK.
Chapter 17 - Shadow Poet: Carlos attends his poetry reading with TK by his side and some important people in the audience – but will he actually perform this time?
“I was just remembering–” Carlos says, “The first time you stayed for a while after one of our hookups. It was, like, the third time we hooked up, I think. I asked if you wanted tea and cookies and you looked at me like I’d said the weirdest thing ever.”
TK’s exhausted, puffy face breaks into a dazzling grin. “You were being such a Boy Scout.”
“But then you said yes and you ate half the cookie jar.”
“You called me the Cookie Monster.”
“That was the first time I really made you laugh.”
“Tea came out my nose.”
“It was beautiful,” Carlos says, pausing then to qualify: “Your laugh.”
TK gazes up at him, his clear green eyes large and shining. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“The first time you made me laugh was when we were dancing at the honky-tonk.”
“Hey!” TK swats his arm. “I was trying my best!”
“You were so goofy,” Carlos chides. “I just loved it. I loved you.”
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#Tarlos#Tarlos fic#Tarlos fanfic#911 lone star#gay fanfiction#Rhythms#poet fic#cig fic#my fic#Thank you so much for reading! I'm so excited about this fic!
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the neighborhood keeps getting smaller
joel miller x reader
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, p in v sex, joel has a big dick, breeding kink, size kink, pet names, MATING PRESS BRRR, slight dumbification, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids don’t be dumb)
can be read as a sequel to hold me across state lines
you and joel have been going slow whether you like it or not, you finally get a chance to spend some together when ellie is out for the night….
ellie had caught on pretty quickly that things had changed between you two. in fact the next morning at breakfast she blurted out, “you guys are fucking aren’t you?”
“oh my god ellie.” you clutched your head with your hands, elbows on the table as you felt a headache incoming. joel grumbled next to you and ellie almost gagged at his cheeks coloring pink. i mean, could you even blame her? you woke up this morning dredging into the kitchen in only what appeared to be joel’s shirt, looking around like a lost puppy until you met his eyes. joel wasn’t any better, his jaw dropped a little bit and his eyes swept over you quickly. ellie didn’t even hold back an eye roll; it wasn't like you two were paying her any attention anyways. you couldn’t raise your head and look the teenager in the eyes, you’d let joel handle this one. besides it wasn’t like you two had fucked you’d just gotten more intimate than two platonic partners ever did.
“ellie, first of all don’t talk like that especially when we’re eating, secondly we’re taking it slow and when we’re ready to tell you anything we’ll let you know.” joel’s tone, although gruff and stern, soothed your nerves. this wasn’t a one time thing and he was making it clear to both of you in that moment. when you woke up from the deepest sleep you’d had in a while you expected him to be next to you, so when you wandered into the kitchen this morning you needed comfort, you needed confirmation.
“okay fine but it’s not like it’s a surprise to anyone. the whole town thought you guys were practically married.” with that ellie scarfed down her remaining pancake and took her plate to the sink. you looked up at joel who looked equally confused as you were. were you both such fools? it seemed you two were the last to know. you waited until you could hear ellie stomp all the way upstairs and close her bedroom door behind her.
“God how am i gonna look her in the eyes?” you were a motherly figure to the girl, you felt mortified just thinking about facing her again.
“it’s fine, clearly the whole town was thinking it anyways.” joel had to admit he felt a sick thrill knowing the whole town thought you were his. it certainly explained why none of the younger eligible bachelors who snuck glances at you, but dared to approach you. he had likened it to his glaring, but clearly it was something more.
“jesus christ, they were, weren't they?” you scoffed and couldn’t help but take in joel’s appearance. he looked well-rested and as cheery as joel miller possibly could be. no wonder ellie had suspected something. “uhm joel.” joel didn’t think he could hear his name come out of your mouth without picturing you laid out for him, arched in pleasure and crying out his name like it was the only word you knew.
his mind stopped working for a moment as he looked at your messy hair and swollen eyes, and then he responded realizing he could only stare at you so long. a simple hum from him caused you to shiver as you scouted to the edge of your seat, your bare thigh brushing against his denim one.
“did you mean it when you said we’re taking things slow?” joel’s gaze traveled from your dilated pupils to your parted lips and found their home in your flushed cheeks. he wanted nothing more than to clear the table and cap off his meal with the dessert between your legs, but he wanted to know what you wanted. this was his last way to give you an out, to let you get ready of him easy. so it was only natural when he spoke next. your wide pretty eyes were clinging onto his every word as soon as his mouth opened and he itched to pull you close and kiss the air from your lungs.
“it’s up to you darling.” his voice was deep as he ground out his words. darling. with his southern drawl and your proclivity to find every word the man said to be sensual, you couldn’t even hide the chill that traveled down your spine. you were absolutely dazed as you swung your leg over his thighs and settled onto his lap. you barely fit in the space between him and the table but you didn’t care, you’d nestle in between his ribs if he let you. joel’s eyes took you in like you were the only thing in the world, studying your features and the pretty flush on your skin that seemed to go with him wherever he went. he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time with you.
“if you keep calling me darling, we’ll have to continue where we left off last night.” you leaned forward, whispering it into his good ear. joel could feel his blood traveling south, you sure knew how to make him feel young. fortunately, you were not quite on his bulge, otherwise he’s not sure either of you would be talking much longer. joel had his hands on your waist, he’d done it purposefully because if they went any south he’d have to find out just how south he could travel without you stopping him. he’d bet it was as much as he wanted.
“is that all it takes? pretty girl like you probably heard things like that often.” joel can imagine men and women alike throwing themselves at your feet. you were so damn gorgeous and good he felt like he’d won the lottery. a deep grumble resounded from your chest at his pet name once again, you’d let him do anything to you if he kept sweetening you up.
“don’t you know i’m gone for you miller?” you were slowly blinking, sleep still in your eyes and joel thought he felt his heart skip a beat. you looked like an angel sent just for him, he didn’t deserve an angel.
“i’m starting to pick up on that.” if you were far gone, joel was off the deep end.
“hmm well, it’s just you, no one else affects me like this.” you moved closer, your arms looped around his neck tightening. you could almost feel his bulge and joel had to groan as he felt his self-control slip. you smelled so good, like sex and honeysuckle. joel pressed a kiss to your forehead, you melted into him a little bit more.
“that makes us two of us sweetheart, but we should probably wait for when ellie’s not here.” he was warning you, trying to stop what was coming as he saw your eyes darken, your breathing picking up as your breast pressed into his chest.
“i can be quiet.” you were gonna be the death of him.
“tempting, but i’d rather hear you yell my name like you’ve gotten so fucking good at.” a small little smile painted your lips and joel fell a little more in love. instead of being shy, you seemed proud of yourself, like his name was made for you to scream.
“alright but go around calling me sweetheart, i might just crack.” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, your soft lips grazing against his rough beard, as you swung your leg back over and gave joel a good glimpse at your underwear.
it did nothing to help his hard-on.
since that breakfast with ellie you both had been good, stealing kisses when you could. the next night you both fell asleep with joel holding you close, just like you always did. but there was something simmering in both of you, you could feel it travel between your thighs and remain unattended. you three were having dinner at the community hall, when a girl ellie’s age asked her to watch a movie. you’d seen the girl hanging around ellie before, knew she was close with her as much as one could get to the wary teenager. “finish your dinner hon, then you can go do whatever you want.”
“is it okay if ellie sleeps over? the movie will end late.” you exchanged a look with joel, you weren’t giving up your kid that easily. you moved to stand up, the girl a little intimidated by you. you wondered if she’d start crying if joel had taken this one.
softening your expression slightly you asked, “where’s your parents?” the girl pointed in the direction of two people standing in line for food, ellie groaned in embarrassment and you ruffled her hair to tease her a bit more. it felt so plainly familiar that you thought about all the times you’d do the same with your little sister. joel couldn’t help but feel a shudder at the way you treated ellie, you always were so warm with her and he wished he could do it as easily as you did. ellie saw you as a mother, there was no doubt in his mind about that. you moved towards the couple with the girl following you. the couple was painfully normal and sweet, they seemed so well-adjusted you wondered if they’d ever even seen a clicker. despite your slight disdain for their blissful ignorance you couldn’t deny that they seemed perfectly normal and harmless. it also didn’t hurt that you were sure your ellie could take them any day of the week. with that you nodded at the parents and told the girl that ellie would find her after dinner. walking back to the table you found joel’s gaze on you, a look in his eye you couldn’t quite comprehend.
dinner passed by and joel and you said goodbye to ellie, telling her to be kind but not to hesitate to leave if she feels unsafe. it was the first night you’d spent apart since you joined them.
joel took your hand in his as you walked to the edge of town and made your way to your condo. you were surprised by his touch but welcomed it nonetheless, with joel you’d take whatever he gave you. “you think ellie’s okay right now?”
“just thinking about that myself actually.” you knew joel was as worried about her as you were. he didn’t let on just how much he worried but you knew, you could tell from the permanent frown had gotten deeper.
“we can swing by their place, i already asked maria for their address.” you and joel could probably break in and check on her but that would be a bit extreme even for you two.
“of course you did.” joel shot you a smirk, making your heart beat pick up. you both entered the home and you kicked off your boots, throwing off your jacket and hanging it up. you watched as joel did the same, taking in his broad chest that stretched against his shirt as he took off his jacket. you could watch him all day.
“gonna hop in the shower darlin’.” you nodded, slightly in a daze, following joel like a puppy as he walked towards your shared bedroom.
“can i join you?” joel pressed a kiss to your lips as he grabbed a towel and opened the bathroom door. you shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against your lips.
“how bout you just sit pretty and wait for me hm?” he motioned towards the bed and you nodded eagerly, joel found your enthusiasm maddening. he wanted you just as badly but he’d rather take you in the bed, it was the least you deserved. meanwhile you didn’t care where you were with him, as long as you could have him. after what felt like the longest 5 minutes of your life, the bathroom door cracked open, to reveal joel in only a towel around his waist. you didn’t even think twice before you padded over only in socks and one of joel’s shirts. your eyes widened as you outstretched a hand to feel the graying chest hair and maddening small gut surrounded by strong muscles. joel watched you wordlessly as your eyes narrowed at scars he’d gained over the years, your small hand inspecting and feeling whatever you could. joel felt something swell in his chest as you eyed him down, there was no hesitation in you to reach out for him. when you finally seemed satisfying joel stepped to the side so he could at least pull on a pair of boxers. your eyes never left him and joel could’ve laughed at how hungry you were for him if his mouth wasn’t salivating at the sight of your hard nipples through his fucking t-shirt.
joel toweled his hair dry, watching you as you continued to ogle him. he wasn’t any better, in the few seconds he wasn’t looking at your eyes he was taking in your curves or how he didn’t want you in anything other than his clothes. it was just as sexy as the suggestion of fabric you’d worn as lingerie before.
“come here darlin’,” you blushed instantly, moving towards him as he threw the towel to the side. your hands came up to smooth his hair down, it looked wild and you wanted to mess it for yourself later on. you raked a hand through his hair, your fingernails scraping his scalp, and joel let out a content grumble. your pussy clenched around air from the sound, you were exposed under this shirt, cool air making it clear to you how wet you were already getting. joel’s hands came up to your hips, squeezing and earning a gasp from your lips as your hands cupped his face. he pulled you closer, leaning down as he pressed a kiss to your lips, his tongue trailing the seam of your lips and you moaned out his name in response. “bed, now.” you wasted no time in backpedaling with joel’s hands still on your hips, not even breaking eye contact as you sighed out in content. when the back of your knees hit the bedframe, joel lifted you over it and dropped you onto the bed like you weighed nothing. you almost let out another whimper. joel climbed over you, his thighs caging you in as he sat up and raked over you.
“y’don’t know how long i’ve been dreaming about this,” you gasped as his hands traveled down until they reached the edge of your shirt, his rough fingertips brushing the bare skin where the shirt met your thighs. you whined and grasped the bedsheets as you tried not to just pull him to you, you were already so desperate you didn’t know know how much more you could forsake your dignity.
“how long?” you practically whined it out when his fingertips dipped under the shirt, slowly making their way up.
“ever since i saw you.” you whined out his name as his hands found their way to either side of your hips, the calluses on his thumbs created friction as they swiped along your soft skin.
“no underwear huh?” joel’s brown eyes were wide, his pupils blown out like you were sure yours were. you swallowed down as his eyes kept staring you down, staring where you needed him most.
“why waste time?” you noted, as his hands shoved the material up, past your belly-button leaving you exposed. joel pushed the material up until your breasts were exposed and your nipples poked up into the air. you would’ve felt shy if not for the low curse joel muttered under his breath. without warning the man dove down, his mouth traveling up your navel leaving kisses and bites along your center. your hands found refuge in his hair, tangling the damp strands between your fingers and pulling when he bit you a little harder than you anticipated. joel, tantalizingly slow, kissed his way to your breasts. his mouth latched onto one nipple as his fingers teased the other. the bite of his teeth, the suck of his mouth, and the rough pad of his finger felt like fire against you and it made your mind swim with desire. joel was mean to your breasts, not letting up until you could see red marks blooming on your chest. you had tried to be quiet, knowing joel didn’t want the whole neighborhood to hear you but you couldn’t help it when he pulled you between his teeth and moved away, “joel!” the fucker laughed at your reaction, pressing his now free thumb to your lips. without much thought you stuck your tongue out to lick it, joel’s grip on your hip tightened.
“want you inside.” joel’s erection was straining his boxers and you wanted to feel him, you’d beg if you had to. he nodded at your words, seemingly in a daze from your actions and words. lowering down as his hand followed and moved to finger you. he pulled your ankles to rest on his shoulders, giving him easier access. although you loved his hands, you wouldn’t last much longer, not with him looking at you like this and not with desire coursing through you more than any sensible thought. you wanted to come with him, placing a hand over his you spoke. “joel please just fuck me, i’m prepped.” joel seriously doubted that being that you struggled to take three of his fingers last time, but nonetheless he nodded and pressed a kiss to your ankle. joel pushed his boxers down, taking them off in one swift movement and your jaw dropped.
it was the biggest dick you’d ever seen, thick and long, perfectly cropped gray dark hair at the base and your mouth watered at the sight of it. despite your desire, doubt creeped into your mind, “joel it’s so big, i don’t think it’ll fit.” your words sparked a fire in him and joel had to push down the very real need to plunge into you and make you sob from the stretch but he needed to soothe your doubt. and despite your wide eyes he could see your pussy clenching on air as if begging to take him. joel had to stifle a smirk at the sight.
“you can take it doll, you’re a big girl.” you swallowed as you nodded, trusting him implicitly and sitting up as you watched him. despite your earlier comments, joel still had to check that you weren’t too tight and he didn’t need to grab lube to make it easier on you, he stuck two fingers into you, a low moan resounding from your throat at the feeling of something finally touching you where you needed. sure enough, joel found you were practically dripping. he looked from his fingers glistening from your ichor back to you with a teasing curiosity in his eyes and you just sighed in defeat, throwing your head back. joel took this time to move closer to you, your ankles going past his head as your legs glided over his shoulders, lining himself up. joel looked at you for any hesitation, except you were just looking past his face, nodding in anticipation.
joel does his best to move slowly, pushing his head in first, you gasp at the stretch. you’re burning up and yet you need more, you want him to break you. your eyes roll to the back of your head when he pushes two inches in and joel thinks he should take a picture of your face to save forever. he can keep his composure, control his speed until you look him straight in the eyes and smile so wide he thinks he might be imagining it. joel can’t help but plunge into you. your mind instantly goes numb, the stretch burning and his tip hitting your cervix, tears sting your eyes as joel gives you time to adjust, “so fucking tight pretty girl, it’s like you were made for me.” and you can’t talk, the pleasure cutting off any connection between your mind and your body. joel feels so suffocated by your pussy, he’s not sure he’ll last long, not when you look so pretty crying over his cock or when you’re so warm and wet for him he feels overwhelmed by the notion alone.
so he starts moving slowly, fractionally moving in and out, you start clenching less as your body gets used to him. it doesn’t stop the mind-numbing shock you feel when his dick kisses your cervix, but it still keeps you sane. joel feels himself going insane, even with his bad ear he can perfectly hear how fucking wet you are and the downright pornographic sounds your bodies are making. he’s still a gentleman, still has some decency to warn you before he fucks you dumb.
“safe word is texas okay.” you nod enthusiastically, clutching your breast as joel pulls out completely and fucks into you with his full length. your jaw slackens, tears pooling at the edge of your eyes, and you can’t help but scream his name. joel’s pace doesn’t relent after that, he’s bruising your cervix and your mind and body can only agree on one thing and that’s joel. you scream his name as the angle of your bodies does nothing to help the intense pleasure you feel. joel stretches you and you don’t think you could ever want another dick in your life, not when you can feel his veins imprinting on your walls, or the throb of his cock inside you. you cum when he angles himself even deeper, white painting your vision as you arch and stiffen against him, joel whispering praises as he keeps his brutal rhythm. you feel joel grow close when his grunts turn to curses and interchange with your name.
you think joel must be feeling as brainless as you do when he starts muttering, “this pussy is mine, y/n fuck can’t have anyone else after this.” you feel yourself close to another orgasm and then joel pushes against your hips, your legs stretching to get him closer, your bodies flush against each other and while you thought that joel couldn’t stretch you any more you were totally wrong. he’s dragging against your walls like he was made for them. pressing into you like he wants to put a baby in you, and you are so fucked dumb, words barely escaping your mouth as he slides in and out of you. you’re babbling nonsense and joel thinks he’s no better as he feels himself close. his thumb finds your clit, massaging until he feels you clench around him.
“come with me doll.” you cry out his name and joel takes it as a yes, his pace slowing down to an equally torturous slow and deep one. he moves to pull out and you whine. joel almost loses his mind.
“no no no please want your cum.” you’d deal with the consequences tomorrow right now you’d go crazy if you didn’t feel filled by him. and he can’t bring himself to deny you. you have tears streaming down your face from desire, and he’s not a monster. joel comes inside, burying himself to the hilt and you feel warm from his cum, feeling it fill you up and it’s so much you’re starting to think you’ll never feel fuller. when joel pulls out, your juices combined with his spill down your cunt, and joel thinks he’s worked up an appetite.
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#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller smut#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x reader#joel miller#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#tlou joel#tlou ellie
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MODERN AU - PART 1
lore under the cut!!!
Lǐyú 🐟
25 years old
Grew up poor, but a hard worker - was in the student council throughout highschool and captain of the debate team; bit of an overachiever
Earned a scholarship to university and became… an accountant
Always had dreams to be a marine biologist or illustrator, but life got in the way and one has to pay the bills
Had no passion for their chosen career, becoming a workaholic and reclusive, plus being piled with extra work due to to being the lowest in the work hierarchy
Started a webcomic series to relieve stress from the job and posted on a whim, unexpectedly got really popular!!!
One time got caught in the rain without an umbrella and ran into an open cafe
Met the the owner @maiden-of-the-waters Beike and worker @marcu-bug Yu, who took one look at their sad, soggy form and immediately (unofficially) adopted them into their cafe
Lǐyú cried (which they’re still embarassed about) from the simple kindness of strangers, and started frequenting the cafe more
With support from the others, quit their accounting job and started posting comics full time, even picking up shifts for the cafe
Noticed by game company, scouted and hired for character design/concept, illustration and storyboarding
Co-workers with @marcu-bug’s monkey (Tao), who works in a different department
Unexpectedly ran into @dunanana Birdie in the cafe, and fainted from shock; has always been a big fan of her music
Did get over their embarassing hero worship after getting to know Birdie, and the gang always teases them about their reaction to their first meeting
Met @szynkaaa Oz while working a shift in the cafe, casually doodled a lil star on her to-go cup based on the accessories on her bag
Becomes roommates with Birdie and Yu after their apartment got flooded
More social and passionate about life; it really was going great! Surrounded by awesome friends and loving their new career; seriously, what could more could they ask for?
That was when fate decided to throw a Monkey their way
Destined One/Yēzi 🥥
24 years old
Star of the martial arts world since he was a child, has won numerous competitions in various fields
Impressive enough to be scouted for minor movie roles but didn’t enjoy the spotlight. Transitioned to stuntwork
Elder monkey is his grandfather and runs a dojo - he joins as a teacher and regularly holds classes for all levels
(the kids all love him, he is their favourite teacher!! Don’t tell him he said this, but he likes teaching the kids too)
Going to inherit the dojo when his grandfather retires, but that seems to be a while yet…
In his youth he was a massive menace, challenging all the dojos/martial arts associations with his own lil’ gang
He’s totally mellowed out now that he’s older, but his friends keep teasing him about his ‘younger days’
ANYWAYS, because of his wild challenges in his youth, he became a local legend and set off a trend for the up-and-coming students of other dojos to start challenging HIM
His friends call him Fruit Punch. And somehow it SPREADS and others start calling him the legendary Fruit Punch
Gods he was so mortified he wore a mask to try and hide, but it just fueled the rumours even more
So he’s always being interrupted and challenged by all these flashy characters and gained a reputation for being a delinquent/vigilante
(since they’re disturbing public areas, Yēzi always drags them off to the police station after the fight)
Grumpy guy
Of course he is, always getting interrupted by a bunch of guys when he just wants a smoothie or shopping for groceries
-
He enters a cafe, ready to order and hears this:
"Ah! Fruit Punch"
*sighs*
its gonna be a long day
Lǐyú and Yēzi 🐟🥥
He loves doodling. Unironically thinks Lǐyú (and Tao) has the coolest job in the world
Yēzi kept the cups that Lǐyú doodled on. Sentimental nerd
Lǐyú did not understand the culture around fighting for the longest time and had some... misunderstandings about it. Had a long sit down with Yēzi to talk about it :)
-
UGH they are both so oblivious
Lǐyú: Yēzi is so cool but a bit scary => actually he's kind of a dork => um wow that was hot- => oh!! What a cute laugh! => hey- shhh shh. Yēzi, I'm not going anywhere.
And it hits them like 'oh. OH'.
Yēzi is So Stupid:
Ugh they called me fruit punch => huh. They're kinda cool I guess => pretty fun to tease => pretty eyes~ => oh no. Why are you crying? I'll do anything, so please, don't turn away from me-
'oh. OH.'
#s0rr3l's art#black myth wukong#destined one x oc#black myth wukong oc#liyu#liyu x yezi#but sorrel what bt bmw verse- shhhh#i must have the brainrot…#Monkey See Monkey Do
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hey mei baby i was wondering if you could do something about shy!reader with spencer and she's just so smitten with everything he does and gets flustered really easily and spencer is like ??? like he doesn't get it cause he doesn't see how fucking gorgeous he is
love love love you!
love love love you too!
--
Spencer sits down at the table you'd scouted with a warm smile and a gift bag, and you eye it warily, noting the particular absence of one in return for him.
"I brought you something," He confesses bashfully, and you watch as he pushes it over the table towards you, "But- um, I'm sorry there's no tissue paper in there. I thought I had some, but then I didn't, so I went to the store earlier to find some, but they only had neon pink, and that didn't really go with the orange on the bag, so- just- it's in there." He concludes drearily, "Sorry."
The mere thought of him apologizing for a gift that he's giving you not being perfect makes you want to scream in agony and kiss the apologetic smile right off of his pretty pink lips. But you think that a gentle reassurance would work better, so that's what you give him.
"It's alright, Spencer," You promise, reaching into the bag and wrapping your fingers around what feels like soft paper, "The tissue paper is the least important part of the gift."
It turns out to be a book, and you suppose you shouldn't have expected anything different from Spencer. It's worn, well-loved, with sticky notes in disarray all down the sides and pencil scribbled in the margins. It's a collection of vignettes, from the title, old English tales that you'd find covered in dust at an ancient library.
"My mom used to read these to me when I was younger," Spencer admits, hands toying with each other nervously in his lap, "And I bought myself a copy when I moved out, for- to, like, start my collection," He explains, "And I always found myself going back and annotating it, because I just had so much to say, but- uh, no one to listen."
His cheeks burn pink at the admission, and you physically feel your heart swell to dangerous proportions within the confines of your chest, "So, I thought that- well, if you want to, at least... you could read them too. And- my notes, if you're interested."
He's staring at you with so much raw hope shimmering in his pretty brown eyes that it nearly brings tears to yours. Your brain is filled with static, useless and jittery, and all you can do is drop the book into your lap and slam your face into your arms on the table.
You let out a muffled groan, maybe more of a scream, and when you peek back up at Spencer, he looks mortified.
"I'm sorry! If you don't want it, I can- I can take it back, or get you a different copy, or-"
"Stop! Spencer, stop," You plead, clutching at his hands from across the tiny table, "You're perfect. How are you perfect?"
He looks bewildered, but doesn't pull his hands from yours, "What?"
"You gave me your special book," You whimper, "Actually, you apologized that you only gave me your special book, and you trusted me to care for it and read all of your thoughts and notes about it, and you're-sitting-with-me-in-a-coffee-shop-being-the-man-of-my-dreams! You're perfect!"
He looks heavily flustered now, cheeks burning only brighter red as he grins, "I- I'm glad you like it. Um- I didn't think you'd like it this much."
"I love it," You whine, dragging one of his hands to your mouth to smear a kiss over the back of it, "Spencer, you're perfect."
"Stop saying that," He pleads, but he has to avoid your eyes as he grins into his lap, "You're making me tongue-tied."
"I know," You confess, squeezing his hands, but you show him no mercy as you grin: "But it's only fair, Spence. You just gave me the most heartfelt gift of my life, I'm allowed to make you stutter."
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one-shot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid headcanons#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid hc#spencer reid hcs#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid dialogue#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fanfiction#spencer reid
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Medic: *standing before a projector* My friends, let me tell you about the birds and the bees.
Scout: *mortified* Oh God, please, no...
Engineer: Doc, listen, we're all adults here. I think we know-
Medic: Did you know there are over 10,000 species of birds?
Scout: Huh?
Medic: And that bees are dying at an alarming rate?
Pyro: *muffled gasp*
*one lengthy presentation on climate change later*
Demo: Get ready to go, lads! We’re gonna save some birds and bees.
#source: incorrectjjkquotes#TF2 Medic#TF2 Scout#TF2 Engineer#TF2 Pyro#TF2 Demoman#team fortress 2#incorrect quotes
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14 year old Sammy accidentally sends Dean a dick pic ✨👀
It was no secret that Dean Winchester was the casanova of the family, biding his time through high school with flings under the bleachers and in the janitor's closet while Sam had a tendency to keep his nose in the books. He was a late bloomer, he reasoned, not really showing much interest in girls, because what was the point? They hopped towns far too often to establish any real connections, and the idea of hooking up just for the sake of hooking up seemed sleazy and uncomfortable for a boy who was desperate to plant his roots somewhere.
But that didn't stop girls from noticing Sam when his growth spurt began to hit. Now he was a little taller and the baby fat had melted off his face, exposing that Winchester jawline and cheekbones that could land them on the cover of Teen Beat had they been discovered by a mall scout instead of being trained military style in firearms. Initially he was surprised when girls started showing interest, but it still made him feel awkward and uncomfortable, only because the basis of his knowledge of the fairer sex came from watching Dean spin his pornesque ideals of romance with girls who'd fall for anything gazing into those emerald eyes. He knew that if he were to ask for advice, Dean would load him up with cheesy one liners and much too physically driven flirting techniques that he'd ultimately fumble.
Now Sam was in over his head. What initially began as chatting via text turned into flirting via text, Sam nervously trying to navigate his way through not being too literal in responses and ultimately being unsexy. When he received a rather risque picture of barely covered breasts, he nearly threw his phone across the room, beet red in the face. And then came the request for a picture back. In a panic, Sam deleted the text message thread and sat awkwardly on his bed with his back against the headboard, cheeks still hot as he stared at his phone sitting abandoned against the sheets. He took a deep breath and internally battled with what to do, considering the pros and cons of giving into the request.
This was stupid, why would anyone want to get a dick pic to begin with? Things were moving too quickly, maybe she'd laugh at him. But if he didn't send something back, then maybe she'd get offended or get her feelings hurt? He closed his eyes, the image he had just deleted flashing behind his eyelids already having an adverse effect on his newly developing teenage libido, and when his dick stirred, his face went a deeper shade of red.
What would Dean do?
That's a dumb question.
With a resigned sigh, Sam moved to pick his phone up again before he chewed his bottom lip, opening the camera function. His stomach gave a nervous flip, but it wasn't all dread, there was a bit of exhilaration there. His fingertips felt full of static as he moved to undo his pants, slipping a hand in to palm himself, not really needing much to get himself fully hard. He pulled his length from the confines and gave a stroke or two, feeling a little ridiculous with his phone in the other hand trying to frame it just right. He took a few pictures and immediately wanted to delete them, second guessing everything about the situation, but he had already gotten this far, might as well follow through.
Another nervous flip of his stomach had his cock twitching before he released it and let it sit heavy against his stomach, swallowing down a tightness in his throat before he clicked the share button, typing the first letter of her name before it sent off, awkwardly staring at the picture he took before he went back to the message thread, his blood suddenly going cold.
Shit shit shit!
What he thought was 'Darcy' ended up defaulting to 'Dean', and his very first attempt at sexting was about to be sitting in Dean's unread text messages.
He. Was. Mortified. Panic set in as he desperately tried to figure out how to unsend a message, half tempted to call Dean and tell him to just delete it, please please please don't open it, it was an honest mistake, but it was too late. Marked as read.
He practically bore a hole through the phone with how hard he was staring at the bubble, watching it disappear before popping back up. What he should have done was immediately apologize and explain that it was supposed to go to someone else, but it wouldn't have mattered. Dean would have mercilessly ridiculed him regardless of the reason, and he was fully anticipating a response of What the fuck, Sammy or something even more horrific like a comment on his size, and Jesus Christ, this was so embarrassing.
The dots disappeared again but the hammering in his chest didn't dissipate for a second until it nearly stopped once his brother's response came through.
No questions. No ridicule. Just a picture back with Dean gripping his own rock hard arousal, cocksure smirk on his lips.
#pretending they had more advanced phones back then lol#wincest#weecest#prompt#thank you for this!#these always get longer than i mean them to
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Rock Hard (Rock Band! Cross Guild x Reader)
Pt. 3 The Guitarist
Prelude // The Vocalist // The Guitarist // The Drummer
Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, semi-public sex, Buggy is a Problem, possessive Mihawk, fingering, oral sex, no Crocodile yet but soon
WC: 2.4k
Summary: So, you slept with the main singer of Cross Guild, who is also your boss. It’s fine. No one will know.
Except Mihawk, Mihawk finds out pretty fast.
Notes: I got distracted for (checks calendar) 2 months but I swear I’m not abandoning anything
Tagging: @keiva1000
“And then you have the meeting with possible collaborators at the end of your day.”
“And why am I doing that instead of Crocodile?” Mihawk asks from behind his desk.
“Because he is busy scouting concert venues.” You explain, clipboard held to your chest.
“And Buggy?”
“I think why we know Buggy isn’t doing it.”
He pauses, rolling his eyes. “We do. Fine. But make sure I have the recording studio booked for Friday and nothing interrupting it.”
“Of course. Any other schedule requests?” You ask, jotting down his demands.
“No just that.” He waves a dismissive hand and you politely nod and head to the door.
“Oh- one more question.” His words stop you and you turn on your heels back to him.
“Are you fucking the clown?”
You nearly drop your clipboard in shock, brain trying to process the absurd question before it quickly turns into a sharp embarrassment. There isn’t time to get out any words before Mihawk is speaking again.
“That answers that then.” His voice is flat but you can hear the slight edge of disappointment.
“It was only once and I swear it will never happen again.” It was the truth- since your moment with him in his office a few weeks ago nothing has happened. Sure he would grab your ass when no one was looking but there hasn’t been a spare moment where the two of you could do anything more.
“Look, I don’t care who you sleep with. As long as you don’t let it interfere with your work it’s fine.” You would feel relieved if you still weren’t drowning in embarrassment. “I’m just surprised.”
“I’m sorry.” Is all you can manage, unable to look him in the eyes.
“Don’t be. It’s unbecoming.”
You can only nod as you slip out of his office in shame.
The next few days everything is normal, and neither you nor Mihawk acknowledge the brief conversation that had happened. You felt the information prickling at the back of your brain every time you were in the vicinity of Mihawk though, knowing how much he was judging you for you indiscretion.
But true to his word he didn’t seem to care as long as it didn’t affect your work. You treated Buggy the same as everyone else, even if his hands and gaze wandered constantly. So, while you remained professional, Buggy didn’t. It wasn’t a surprise to you but an annoyance as he grew bolder and bolder with each passing day.
Like now right now, while you’re sitting down for a meeting with all of The Cross Guild and some investors. You and the band are all sitting on one side of a long table while three business men sit across from you. Today you’re a glorified note taker as Crocodile handles most of the business, sitting and writing between Buggy and Mihawk. You don’t mind it too much- at least until Buggy starts to fool around.
You wanted to stab him with your pencil the instant you felt his hand creep onto your thigh. Restraining yourself you instead shoot him a glare which falls painfully short of your intended effect. The clown just smiles at you as his hand creeps further up your leg. Your hand tightly clasps on top of his to stop his movements but he’s more nimble than you give him credit for, easily sliding out of your hold and darting to what he can manage to grab of your ass.
You’ve missed a minute or so of conversation so despite the hand on you, you try to focus back in on the conversation- only to find Mihawk staring at you. There’s a long moment of eye contact before his gaze darts down to where Buggy’s hand is and back up to you. You’re mortified and try your best to silently convey to Mihawk that you’re sorry and it’s all Buggy’s fault.
There must be something he understands because you feel him look slightly beyond you to where Buggy is sitting and glare- hard. The hand quickly retracts and you’re able to relax slightly and focus back in on your work. You manage to figure out most of what you missed and the meeting is quickly finished much to your relief. You need to go scream in an empty room.
After politely shaking hands with everyone and handing over your notes to Crocodile you dart out into the hallway to go back to your office- only to be stopped by a hand grabbing your wrist. You turn around and see Buggy with a shit eating grin plastered on his painted face.
“We running off somewhere?” He uses his hold on you to pull you in close.
“Buggy I swear to god-“ You look around, making sure no one else has come out of the room yet. “If anyone sees us-“
“Then what?” He moves and you back up, your back hitting the wall. “You’re good at your job- you won’t get fired. Besides, everyone will blame me.”
It’s true- everyone will blame him- but that doesn’t stop you from distinctly remembering Mihawk’s words only a few days ago. He would kill both of you if-
“Clown.”
Suddenly Mihawk is looming over Buggy and you watch as his face pales to the same white shade as his makeup accents. He slowly releases his hold on your wrist before sliding out between you and Mihawk so he can turn and face him.
“Mihawk, buddy, great meeting today. I was just checking in with our manager on the- uh- the-“
“Don’t pretend you know what the meeting was about.” Mihawk then looks at you and you fight the urge to meld with the wall. “Come with me.”
You hang your head and follow Mihawk, not looking at Buggy as you pass him. You go down a few hallways, brain trying to find some kind of excuse to save you. Caught up in those thoughts you almost run into his back when he stops abruptly and flings open a door you’ve never seen before.
Mihawk’s hand pushes lightly against your back and you’re ushered into the newly opened room. It’s dark and small and you realize as he shuts the door behind him your in a storage closet. You’re not fired. Mihawk’s going to just kill you.
“What was the one thing I asked?” He asks, body pressing against you in the narrow space.
“That I didn’t let my relationship with Buggy affect my work.” You admit, pressing your back against the wall to try and not be as close to him.
“Is it a relationship?” He asks, voice low.
That wasn’t where you thought this discussion was going, but it was a fair ask. “I’m not sure. I don’t think anything is ever serious with Buggy.”
“No, nothing ever is.” You’re suddenly very aware of how close Mihawk is, how he’s bending over you slightly and caging you in. One of his arms is bracing against the wall next to you and his other brushes up against your hip. “He’s immature. Unfocused. Did he even make you cum?”
“He did.” You confess, fighting every urge to press against him.
“Surprising.” He hums, hand now fully gripping your waist. “Well if you’re not in a relationship with him you should have no problems seeing what other people could offer you. The pleasure other people could give you.”
“What other people?” You ask breathlessly, still searching for confirmation that this is somehow real.
“I think you know.” Deft fingers undo the clasps of your pants and slip past your waistband.
“Yeah- I think I do.” Your head falls back against the wall as Mihawk’s knees push your thighs apart.
His hand is slow as it moves down, pushing past fabric and gently skirting over your folds. Mihawk hums into your ear when he finds the wetness seeping out of you. “I wonder… is this for me or for him?”
“You!” You answer quickly, desperate as you fight the urge to move your hips down closer to his fingers. “Started when you dragged me away from him.”
“Really now?” That must have been a good answer as one of his fingers rubs along your clit.
His mouth moves to your neck and you tilt your head to give him better access. You whine as he sucks a bruise into your neck, determined to mark you. The possessive act has you melting even further into his touch, relying on his strength to keep you upright against the wall.
One long finger presses into your entrance as his thumb stays firmly on your clit. Your hands are balled in fists at your sides as you fight the urge to touch Mihawk- afraid of ruining the tense moment. That doesn’t stop you from moaning when a second finger quickly joins the first and skillfully curves inside you.
“So noisy… do you want someone to hear you?” His words make you suddenly very aware that you’re still just in a closet in a hallway anyone could be walking down right now.
One of your hands flies up and covers your mouth as his fingers curl again, muffling another moan. Mihawk chuckles as his fingers somehow find spots you could never hope to hit with your own digits. You resort to biting down on your hand when he finally hits that delicate spot deep inside you.
You had watched his fingers move over his guitar, effortlessly playing rhythms your mind couldn’t even keep up with, but you never let your mind think of the other uses those skilled fingers could have. He plays you just like his favored instrument, strumming inside you to get you to sing for him. Now you don’t think you can ever watch him play without these feelings washing over you again.
You’re so close to your orgasm as his fingers make a mess of you but right as you’re about to fly over the edge his fingers still completely and you almost scream. Your eyes find his in the dark and you can barely see any gold in them.
“Say you want me, not him.” He says, voice barely above a whisper.
So close to your edge, you probably would have said anything to get his fingers moving again.
“Mihawk- please I need you- I can’t even think about him when you’re- fuck your fingers are so good please Mihawk-“ You plead and beg, voice pathetic in the small space.
“That’s right.” His fingers move again and your knees give out as he massages the spot deep inside you while pressing against your clit.
If you were in your right mind you’d be embarrassed at the wetness soaking Mihawk’s fingers and your underwear but in the throws of your orgasm you couldn’t give a damn. His fingers work you gently through it, pulling out only when your own legs can hold you up.
“Open.” You obey his command without a second thought and fingers covered in your juices slip onto your tongue.
You leave your mouth hanging open as your tongue swirls around his fingers, making sure to clean every last drop of you off. He’s fixated on the way your tongue moves and you try not to let it get to your head that you have a man like Mihawk captivated. When you’re done you slowly pull away and stare into his eyes, patiently waiting for his next command. You don’t have to wait long.
“Knees.” You drop to the floor so fast you’re sure your knees are going to be bruised but you can’t bring yourself to care.
Your hands quickly work at his belt and shove down his pants, letting his hard, red cock spring free. Bringing his tip to your mouth you let pooled spit drip down, coating his length. One of your hands moves to pump his length as your spit eases the way as your tongue swirls around his tip. You take him into your mouth and hear him groan above you.
Looking up you see him almost doubled over you, one arm holding him up against the wall as his head hangs down to look at you. When you finally catch his gaze his free hand runs through your hair, surprisingly delicate.
“Just like that love.” His hand holds your head but doesn’t force you down further, allowing you to keep your own pace.
You work slowly, forgetting the fact that at any point in time someone could walk in on the two of you. The feeling of him sitting on your tongue is intoxicating as you take him into your mouth inch by inch. Breathing in through your nose you push him into your throat, eventually getting his whole length inside.
You feel his hand grip you tighter as he moans above you. “Fuck you’re good. Can you- just hold right there-“
You listen and don’t move, swallowing around his length and feeling the way his cock throbs in response. You hold like this for what feels like forever until your throat starts to get tired and you slowly push back against Mihawk’s hand. He lets you pull off and you gasp for breath, thick lines of spit still connecting you.
Mihawk’s hand guides you to tilt your head back and he brings his other hand off the wall to furiously pump his own length. You let your mouth fall open as his guides his tip to your tongue. You make sure to look at him as hot ropes of cum fall onto your tongue, making sure not to swallow.
“Let me see.” He crouches down to your level, hand holding your jaw so he can find the perfect angle to see his cum pooling in your mouth. “That’s right- now swallow for me.”
You do so- glad to get the salty taste from your mouth and also glad to see how much Mihawk likes your obedience. He watches your face for a few seconds before pushing forward and capturing your mouth in a needy, sloppy kiss. Despite it only lasting a few seconds, you’re breathless when he pulls away and stands up.
He quickly tucks himself back into his pants and zips himself up before reaching a hand down to you to help you up. He takes care of your pants as well, pressing one last kiss to your neck as he does so.
“See you tomorrow.” He says, a slight smile on his face as he slinks out the door of the closet, leaving you alone in the dark.
You’re seriously fucked.
#one piece x reader#one piece x you#x reader#dracule mihawk x reader#mihawk x reader#mihawk x you#buggy x reader#cross guild x reader#the cross guild x reader
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Day 22 - Role Reversal
Summary: Eren's attempt at assisting Levi with cleaning exposes a particularly interesting side of the usually stoic man.
Lee: Levi
Ler: Eren
A/N: I am a SUCKER for characters who typically remain stoic, serious, etc., and seeing them laughing, breaking their usual form.
It had been a long day of training, and everyone had finally settled down for the night, except for Captain Levi, who was busy with his usual cleaning routine in the Scout Regiment’s headquarters. Eren sat nearby, watching him obsess over the already spotless room, a smirk forming on his lips.
“Don’t you ever stop?” Eren teased, leaning back in his chair.
Levi, without looking up, responded flatly. “Not until this place looks like people who actually care about hygiene live here.”
Eren chuckled. “It already looks perfect, Captain. Maybe you’re just avoiding sleep.”
Levi shot him a quick glare, his eyes daring Eren to push further. But Eren, feeling a surge of boldness, stood up and walked over, reaching out for the cleaning cloth Levi was using.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Eren joked, grabbing for the cloth.
Levi’s hand darted out, fast as lightning, gripping Eren’s wrist to stop him. But in the brief struggle, Eren’s fingers accidentally grazed Levi’s side. Eren froze, his eyes widening as he noticed something odd: Levi’s body stiffened, and for just a second, the corner of his mouth twitched, almost like he was holding back a laugh.
“No way…” Eren muttered under his breath, his mind racing.
Levi, clearly trying to ignore what had just happened, released Eren’s wrist and turned back to his cleaning. But Eren wasn’t going to let this go. He had to be sure.
“Captain,” Eren said, his voice laced with amusement, “are you… ticklish?”
Levi’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be stupid, Jaeger.”
But Eren saw through it. That tiny moment of vulnerability had cracked Levi’s usual unshakable exterior, and now Eren was on a mission. He couldn’t believe it, Captain Levi, the most intimidating, stoic person he knew, had a weakness.
Grinning mischievously, Eren moved closer. “Oh, I think you are…”
Before Levi could stop him, Eren’s fingers darted toward Levi’s ribs, poking lightly. This time, the reaction was undeniable: Levi’s body jerked to the side, his lips pressing into a thin line to stifle a sound. But Eren had seen it, and he didn't plan on stopping anytime soon.
“Gotcha!” Eren laughed, his fingers quickly poking at Levi’s sides again.
Levi’s hand shot out to block him, but it was too late. A soft, involuntary sound escaped Levi’s throat. A laugh, barely there but real enough for Eren to hear. Levi looked mortified.
“Erehehen,” Levi’s voice was dangerously low, but the warning was undermined by the way his body tensed at each touch.
“Oh, this is amazing!” Eren couldn’t stop grinning. He wasn’t sure if it was more shocking to hear Levi laugh or to realize he was the one making it happen. He pressed his advantage, darting his fingers along Levi’s ribs, testing different spots. “Captain Levi, ticklish? Who would’ve thought?”
Levi’s attempts to stop him were half-hearted at best. He tried to push Eren away, but each poke sent a shock through his body, making him twist out of reach. At one point, a real, breathy laugh broke through, and Eren’s eyes lit up with victory.
"Ahahahah, dammit Erehehen!"
Levi swatted at him again, but his usual precision was gone, his focus clearly divided between maintaining his composure and fighting off the sensation. “Naha hahahaha, stohop it!” he growled, but the command lacked its usual bite.
“I can’t believe this! I’m never gonna let you live this down,” Eren teased, his hands relentless as he poked at Levi’s ribs, under his arms, even daring to brush against his stomach.
Eren was loving every second of this. It was a complete role reversal - Levi, who was always in control, always the one dominating every situation, was now at Eren’s mercy. And seeing Levi, of all people, laugh and squirm was too much fun to pass up.
Levi’s breath hitched, and his face turned slightly pink as he fought to suppress more laughter. “Yohou hehehe little brahahat…!” he managed to grit out, though his words were broken by another unwilling laugh.
"AhahahHAHA!! OKAHAHEY! ENOhuhough!"
Finally, after what felt like an eternity (but was probably only a few minutes), Levi managed to shove Eren off with enough force to create some space between them. He was breathing heavily, his eyes narrowed in what should have been a deadly glare, but the flush on his cheeks softened the effect.
“If you ever tell anyone about this,” Levi said, his voice low and threatening, “I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Eren, still laughing, held up his hands in mock surrender. “I won’t tell a soul, Captain,” he promised, though the grin on his face made it clear he would never forget this moment. “But I’ve got to say, I didn’t think you had a weak spot.”
Levi didn’t respond, just stood there, trying to regain his composure. After a long pause, he turned back to his cleaning, as if nothing had happened, though the tension in the air hadn’t quite dissipated.
Eren, feeling victorious, sat back down, still grinning to himself. He may not have won many battles against Levi, but this one, this moment, was a win he would savor for a long time.
The mighty Captain Levi, ticklish? Who would have thought.
#tickle fic#augtickletober2024#tickletober 2024#anime tickle fic#anime tickling#anime tickle#attack on titan tickle fic#attack on titan tickling#attack on titan tickle#ticklish levi ackerman#ticklish levi#lee!levi ackerman#lee!levi#ler!eren yeager#ler!eren
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Jason’s Shitty Day
Jason gets arrested by Superman and Wonder Woman, while undercover as Red Hood in a criminal organization. Problem is that they don’t know he knows Batman and trying to get free only poses more problems. Especially when it’s Dick, not Bruce that comes to break him free.
This work is inspired by Undercover by InvalidStuff on AO3.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: none
~~~~
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jason curses under his breath as he runs for his life through the streets of Metropolis. He can’t believe that this is how he’s going to die for the second time in his life; by the hands of the blue boy scout and his idol.
Okay, maybe he’s being a dramatic, like Bruce they try not to kill their villains, but unlike Bruce they don’t have a strict no killing policy backed up by trauma, so there is a gray area and Jason knows he’s made himself a prime target, being at the top of the Justice League wanted list and all.
Right now it seems ridiculous how he lorded that over the little demon spawn last time they all ate dinner together. The shrimp might not be an assassin anymore, but he still envies Jason’s notoriety all the same.
It’s one of the reasons he told B not to remove him, something he’s regretting now as he rounds a corner, nearly slamming into the building in his haste.
A part of him knows that running is useless, both Superman and Wonder Woman stumbled upon him in an attempt to dismantle the same organization he’s been involving himself in. They assumed him to be the ring leader, because of course they are one of the few members of the Justice League that are actually up to date on their wanted list.
Fucking fuck!
If this were Gotham, he would have had the upper hand, since he knows the terrain and both would be more cautious taking anyone down when Batman forbids metas in his city. However, here in Metropolis he’s more easily confused and the bright city doesn’t allow for him to slip out from under the sight of two of the most powerful people on earth.
So, he isn’t that surprised when Superman’s shadow falls over him, right as he rounds another corner where he comes face to face with Wonder Woman.
He skids to a halt and curses his luck again. His admiration of Wonder Woman never wore off and he’ll likely never live down the mortification of meeting her like this. Right now, he really hates that Bruce is a paranoid fucker, who never let any of his kids near the Justice League. He totally would have made a better impression as the starry-eyed fucker he used to be back as Robin.
However, instead he’s stuck between her and Superman and the only thing he can do is attempt to fight them. Great. B is going to owe him for this.
Jason lets out a roar and charges towards Wonder Woman, whose lasso makes him trip. It forces him to hit the deck and within seconds, Superman is on him, wrestling him to the ground. Of course Jason puts up a fight, never stopping his movements as he kicks and bites, even though that hurts him more.
He knows that Superman is stronger than him, but he also knows that he is stronger than an eel, yet the bastards are hard to catch. So he tries his hardest to impersonate an eel.
A part of him hopes that there are no cameras nearby, because if Barbara or Tim get wind of this, they will get that footage and it will haunt him for the rest of his fucking life. The great Red Hood, wiggling on the ground, being mortified in front of stupid Superman and amazing Wonder Woman and over crimes he didn’t even commit. It’s shameful.
But nothing to be done about that now.
Still, he tries to maintain a little of his reputation, by threateningly growling: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” when Superman reaches out to take off his helmet.
Superman’s hand stills and he cautiously asks: “Why not?”
“Because the explosives will blow and you can say bye bye to my head,” Jason answers, hoping that now that they’ve apprehended him, they’re not planning on killing him.
“What?” Superman chokes, as Wonder Woman demands: “Why would you do such a thing?”
“Pays to be cautious,” Jason shrugs as well as he can while being bound on the floor. And it is being cautious, nothing more. He’s not paranoid like B is, no matter what Dickhead says. When you’re a dead man walking, it’s better for people not to know.
Superman likely uses his X-ray vision, because he’s quiet for a second, before he gasps, his hands twitching. However, Jason has to give him very, very minor credits for swiftly moving on with his interrogation after learning that – though perhaps that’s because he isn’t likely to get blown up alongside Jason, should the bomb go off.
“Your helmet is led lined,” Superman comments, actually sounding a bit miffed about it.
Jason has to swallow a snort and just shrugs again, this time with a bit more little shit thrown in, as he repeats: “Pays to be cautious.”
Wonder Woman apparently has had enough, because she tightens the lasso around his feet, making it glow as she asks: “What are you doing here?”
“Working,” Jason spits out, having trained with Bruce about being able to answer with truths without giving anything away. He is glad for that training now, but he still can’t believe that he is interacting with Wonder Woman and it’s like this.
“What kind of working?”
“Worming my way to the top.”
“You’re not the leader?” Superman asks, sounding surprised. Jason already guessed that they assumed that, but rolls his eyes anyway. Who goes in without doing any research? Do they not know the importance of intelligence?
“No, does this look like Crime Alley to you?” he shoots back.
“So what are you doing here outside Gotham then?” Wonder Woman asks.
It’s a valid question. And a question Jason can use. He’s obliged to tell the truth, but that doesn’t mean the whole truth, so he answers: “Worrying Batman.”
That makes the two heroes pause as they look at each other then back at him, suddenly a little less certain.
Under the mask, Jason grins. He and B still aren’t on perfect terms, but he doesn’t see green anymore whenever they’re face to face and they’ve actually been working on their relationship, hence Jason being at family dinners and out here doing this infiltration mission for the old man.
However, that answer can also be interpreted as him creating chaos that Batman is worrying about, which would make it an issue they’d call him about.
They already might have anyway, since he’s a Gotham rogue and they know Batman likes to deal with those himself, even if they can fall under another hero’s jurisdiction by not being in Gotham. But they also might not have. So, by doing this, he’s implying that whatever he’s doing is linked back to Gotham, which makes it so they’ll have to call B.
Usually, Jason doesn’t want Bruce’s help. Ever. Not when it comes to professional things. He is his own vigilante now, he’s independent and has his own plans. Batman should ask before interfering and Jason is too old and their relationship too tattered for a father figure to help. So, he’d be spitting and screaming whenever the old man even tries.
This time isn’t the same, though. This time he’s in bigger trouble than he’s ever been before and he can’t get out of it by himself. Well, he might, but only if they drop him off at a local police station, which isn’t likely to happen with how high-profile he is.
He can get out of prisons, of being kidnapped, being thrown into a space war, of being discovered as a mole, of nearly all torture. But the Justice League? He knows B grumbles about them being unprofessional, but they still hold a lot of power. He is screwed without B right now.
Still, Bruce has always stressed the importance of not letting anyone know they’re connected. To the League, Robin was never anything more than a rumor and Batman works alone. It’s to protect all of them and despite their past, Jason doesn’t want to endanger them… doesn’t want to disappoint Bruce either. Which is stupid and he’s ignoring it as hard as he can.
Besides, even if he tells them, they aren’t likely to believe him. And Jason doesn’t want the knowledge that he’s a good guy, playing a bad guy out on the streets. He admires Wonder Woman a lot, but her and Superman aren’t great liars. They’d tip people off and he can’t have that.
So, he has to convince Superman and Wonder Woman that they have to call Batman and maybe B can convince them to let him go.
The silence after his comment has dragged on for a bit. To take advantage of it, he chuckles: “Oh, big bad heroes didn’t see that coming? What? Did you think he scared me and I moved out? Tsk, don’t make me laugh. My haunt is still my haunt, all I do leads back home.”
Then he starts struggling again. They haven’t even bound his arms. It would have been better to try when they were still distracted, but they’ll likely capture him again and he has broken his bones enough times already, thank you very much. Better to play at being a flight risk so they’ll move him to a more comfortable place than the dirty street.
Indeed, Superman is played like a fiddle and hauls him upright, saying: “We’ll take you back to base for interrogation.”
Wonder Woman takes the lasso off his legs and instead binds his arms. Smart move on her part, though Jason can’t believe that neither of them question whether bringing a very dangerous criminal back to their base is a smart idea. Didn’t B train them better than this? Have some sort of secondary location for questioning people if you must, don’t bring them home!
However, he doesn’t mention it and lets them take him to a Zeta-Beam, so they can get to the Watchtower. It’s a step closer to B, thus a step closer to freedom, he isn’t going to argue with that. Let Batman rip into them when he finds out.
In the Watchtower, he’s sure to look around. Bruce has never let anyone in here, not even Barbara or Tim, who have to explain how to install the security updates at the Watchtower. God, they’re all going to be so pissed that he got there first.
To make up for that betrayal, he makes sure to look around as much as he can. They’ve of course all stalked the Watchtower on Babs’s monitors, but none of them have actually been, so he’ll have to be able replicate the vibes later.
The vibes are kind of sad.
A bit rude, maybe, but it’s true! It’s all metal and not even that toasty, nor cool, just that gross in between where a sweater is too hot, but you also feel kind of cold. It’s clear B has had input here, because he loves his professionalism.
Jason can still remember the Batcave in its infancy, how much he, Dick and Barbara had to influence before it became what it is now.
All the others don’t remember – except maybe for Tim, who had to pick Bruce out of his self hate spiral – but the Batcave didn’t used to be a little warm for recovering muscle soreness or the cold from outside, there didn’t used to be comfy couches, a fridge with snacks and drinks, or messy piles of works in progress.
He’s going to have a serious word with B when he gets out of here about why he hasn’t implemented anything like that here, when he knows that B naps on those couches and appreciates all the warmth the kids (ugh) brought into the Batcave.
… Well, maybe if he gets out of here, not when. The holding cell they’re pushing him into seems pretty secure and after a second, Jason recognizes it as a Superman containment unit that’s part of B’s contingencies. That makes it also pretty much anyone else proof too.
The shackles he’s locked into are meta proof, however, also Batman’s design, which means that Jason has made it his business to know how to get out of them, because he lives to spite the man most of the time.
Neither Superman nor Wonder Woman have spoken since they started hauling him off to his new little prison and Jason wonders if that is going to change or if they’re going to leave him again.
He also wonders if he should start spouting some sort of monologue to cement himself as a proper villain, but decides against it. It might interfere with a cover story to get him out of here. Anything you say can and will be used against you and all that shit. So, he stays quiet.
There is a chair in the chamber that he’s pushed on and Wonder Woman, starts to wrap her lasso around him again as she states: “We need to know more about this organization of yours. You fought us well and I commend your bravery, however, you posses information we need and you do not seem willing to part with it. But the lasso will make you speak the truth.”
Alarm bells start ringing in Jason’s head, despite feeling thrilled that Wonder Woman just complimented him, so he immediately says: “Hey, hey, hey, can you even do that? Isn’t that unconstitutional or some shit? I mean, I think you need a permit or something to question me like that, I know good old Bats is always up his own ass about right channels and court permissions, shouldn’t you read me my rights? I’ve been arrested enough times to know that’s part of it.”
Red Hood has absolutely not been arrested ever, Jason Todd has, but that’s irrelevant right now. He knows he can’t keep up half truths forever and the actual truth can’t come spilling out. Right now he needs to ensure that Wonder Woman keeps that lasso away from him and remind them that he’s a rogue of Batman, so that they’ll contact him.
Wonder Woman pauses for a second and looks at Superman, who is more versed than her in the world of men.
“He has a point, if this goes deeper than a surface drug deal, then we’ll need to ensure all of them go away for life,” Superman says.
At that Jason would let out a breath of relief, if he hadn’t been trained better than that. He does, however, let his eyes roll, because Supes over there can’t see it and he is allowed to be annoyed that they think it is just some drug bust when Jason has been working for two months to get this neck deep into very fucking shady shit.
“Batman must have some protocol about it,” Wonder Woman says. “I shall look it up, so that we may proceed.”
“You’re not going to call him?” Jason asks, a little surprised, because surely that would be easier than going through the thousands of pages of protocol that B wrote.
Superman squints. “You seem eager to get Batman up here,” he comments. “That’s unusual, most want nothing to do with him. Why?”
Fuck.
He’s used to Gotham villains, who regularly kidnap Batman and want him to pay attention to them, not this fear that he has outside of Gotham. It’s easy to forget too, because B is one of the least scary people Jason knows. Hell, even Dick ranks above him in scariness.
Still, he doesn’t let that show, instead leaning back in his chair as casual as he can, smirking: “I guess, I just appreciate the devil I know is all. You two seem a little boring, no offense.”
“Well, that’s new,” Superman comments and Jason wants to throttle him, because he’s horrible at not letting any information slip past the cracks – and yes, personal relations and reputations are definitely information – he’ll have to remember to mention that to Bruce too.
In the end, Wonder Woman goes to contact Batman and look over their protocol, while Superman stays to watch Jason. It’s the first sensible thing they’ve done, not leaving him alone that is. A part of Jason wants to be annoyed, because now he can’t switch on the com with Babs, since Superman will hear, but he’s just relieved that they have a sense of knowing what to do.
So, they sit in silence.
Superman tries to chat a few times, but Jason knows better than that. You don’t talk, not even small talk. Anything is prying when you’re being interrogated, even if they just want to know your opinion on the weather. Which is making the atmosphere quite awkward.
Luckily, they’re freed from the silence five minutes later when Wonder Woman returns. She says: “Batman says he’ll be here in ten minutes and to not touch or question Red Hood until he gets here.”
Jason is too relieved by the news to judge her for saying that in front of him. Soon B will be here and then he will talk Jason out of here and he’ll be home before he knows it. After today, he can probably convince Alfred to bake cookies with him too. Score.
For the next ten minutes, the atmosphere doesn’t get much better. Jason feels a little more inclined to talk to Wonder Woman, but she is taking Batman’s instructions seriously and with Jason in the room, none of the conversations between Superman and Wonder Woman really take off.
Then the door opens to reveal Batman. For a second Jason can feel a weight be lifted off of him, but then he looks again. The figure is not Bruce, it’s Dick.
What the fuck.
If he weren’t wearing the helmet, he could make a face to demand an explanation, but for now his shoulders will have to do. However, Dick has always been bad at reading Jason’s shoulders when he’s chained up and Jason has a harder time with Dick’s face when he’s playing Batman. So whatever information flow there might have been gets lost in translation.
Dick is one of the few that know Jason did theater in High School, so he’s probably counting on Jason’s yes-and-bullshitting. Which is the only thing that prepares Jason for whatever nonsense he is about to pull out of his ass.
He can’t believe they’re going to lie to Superman and Wonder Woman. What a day this is shaping up to be.
“Hi Batsy,” he grins, hoping that him recognizing Dick will strengthen the cover.
“Red Hood,” Dick greets back. “I knew I’d run into you at some point with this. I’m disappointed, you were doing so well last time. What happened?”
“You know me, I never keep my nose clean,” Jason shoots back, because he’s a crime lord and he doesn’t plan on changing that. His family knows that.
Dick fakes a sigh and sternly says: “You were at least staying in Gotham.” Then he turns to the others and asks: “Where did you find him?” like he didn’t know already.
“Batman, I am glad you came,” Wonder Woman greets. “We have apprehended Red Hood in a drug bust in Metropolis, but we need more information from him. He claims his organization goes back to Gotham, if this goes deeper, we need to know.”
Tsk, what ‘his organization’? Jason had nothing to do with this. Terrible reporting. She could have used ‘the organization’, way more accurate and- oh god, now he’s judging Wonder Woman!
Dick as Batman grunts in acknowledgment and Wonder Woman continues: “We found him in the middle of the warehouse district. The others got away.”
Jason notes that Superman hasn’t said anything yet and shoots him a covert glance. He is frowning at Dick. Jason curses. Dick can do a good Batman when he wants to, but when he does that, he is usually not in good lighting with people who work with the actual Batman regularly.
So, he keeps an eye on the man as Dick gruffly says: “Thank you. I have been tracking his organization these past weeks, if I had known he would branch out, I would have contacted you. I’ll take him back to Gotham for proper interrogation and loop you back in once I know more.”
At that both Superman and Wonder Woman start to look more suspicious and Jason just knows that Dick is going to rip into B later, because why the hell are they surprised at him saying thanks?
Superman finally speaks up: “Why have you been tracking his organization, when he claimed he wasn’t the ringleader when we caught him?”
Damn those investigative reporter instincts, Jason thinks. He needs to distract them from Dick, so they won’t ask any more question. So, he calls out: “I mean, I practically was. Gotham branch is all mine.”
Eyes are back on him, great. Or, well, not truly great, because he hasn’t thought much further than that, but great as in, there is a distraction.
“Red Hood,” Dick admonishes, though Jason can see the relief in his shoulders.
So, he shrugs: “What? I like getting proper credit.”
“Well, you can tell the GCPD all about the things you deserve credit for,” Dick says, leaning in close as he growls.
Fuck, Jason is so making fun of him for that later. After he busted him out of here. Because right now, he has an act to play if he wants to see freedom again. And if he’s honest, he really likes his freedom.
However, before Dick can haul him out of his seat and break him out of here, they’re stopped by Superman: “We caught him in Metropolis, I’d like to question him here first.”
“And he’s my rogue, messing in my city,” Dick snipes back. “He’s got his fingers in all types of pies and I’d like to get him behind bars for it as quick as possible. My way. Because that way works.”
Jason studies Superman and Wonder Woman closely. Dick used the pie expressions, B never is one for expressions, much less pie related ones. And it seems the League figured that out too, because there is a tenseness in their shoulders that wasn’t there before.
Dick must have noticed too, but he’s awaiting their response so he can play into it. However, both know for sure that they’re screwed when Wonder Woman says: “I know you have your way, but you have rarely denied the use of my lasso, especially if it would help your city.”
“Yeah, and you would never just take him without getting more information from us first,” Superman adds. “Who are you?”
“I’m Batman,” Dick repeats, though that’s clearly not going to cut it with the way the two heroes start to close in on him. Jason is starting to feel he’s gonna be on his own here again real soon.
“You’re not. Your heartbeat is wrong,” Superman says.
“Rude, my heart could just have been having an off day,” Dick retorts, obviously giving up on the facade as he darts out of the way and ducks under their attacks and out of the door.
Wonder Woman sets off after him, Superman closely behind. It’s reminiscent of earlier today but then with Dick in Jason’s position. Jason takes a moment to be smug that Dick is definitely getting caught on camera, before taking off through the door himself.
It’s another mental note to bring up to B later and he is starting to wonder if he even trained these people, because that’s truly an amateur’s mistake. Though, perhaps they can be forgiven with the shock of someone managing to break in to the Watchtower without detection while pretending to be one of their own.
His arms are still in the shackles, but there is no time to pick them. Jason also has Zeta-Beam access, if he can just reach the terminal, he’ll be out of here. He’s sure Dick can either talk himself out or that he can come up with a better rescue plan than that.
Where the hell even is the actual Batman? You know, Bruce Wayne?
No time to think about that now, he tells himself, putting the thought out of his mind. He is quickly following the route they’d taken when he got here, but in the opposite direction. He grins when the terminal comes into view.
Skidding to a halt, he quickly starts to put in coordinates. Any coordinates at this point. He’s not used to it, never really traveling via Zeta-Beam much. He hopes he remembers the coordinates of the Batcave after B’s insistence they all learn them and he won’t end up in the middle of the ocean or some shit.
However, before he can beam away, Dick crashes into him when he comes flying into the entrance hall, obviously having thought the same thing as Jason. Only he has two heroes on his trail.
“Fucking fight, Dick,” Jason screams, not even caring that he used the real name, because with Dick you can get away with that. As he attempts to type even faster to get them both away.
Alas, it’s not meant to be, because while Dick is a worthy opponent, he’s fighting two of the most powerful people on their home turf and he doesn’t have anything to fight them with, except for B’s gear that he is less familiar with than his own.
So, while he gets a few good punches in, soon he and Jason are dragged away from the terminal and wrestled to the ground. Now Dick in shackles too.
“Way to go, asshat,” Jason bitches as he lies on the ground for the second time today.
“Oh, like you could have done better. I make a great Batman,” Dick bitches back.
Right at the moment, Flash comes running in, confusedly asking: “What the hell’s happening? I saw it on the monitors, but I didn’t know who to go after first and- Wait, why is Batman in chains? Is he brainwashed?”
“See,” Dick exclaims delightedly. “Flash thinks I make a good Batman.”
“What?” Flash asks confused.
Superman says: “It’s not Batman.”
“He’s not?” Flash says, sounding surprised as he leans over to take a better look.
“Ha!” Dick crows as Jason hisses: “Shut your mouth, dumbass.”
“Who are you and what have you done to Batman?” Wonder Woman exclaims, digging her knee into Dick’s back and making him grunt. Jason has no pity after that stupid stunt.
“I’m Nightwing,” Dick answers and Jason tries to send him a ‘wtf’-look, but is ignored. “I’m a vigilante. I work in Blüdhaven. It’s Gotham’s sister city. Batman’s tied up at the moment, asked me to go in his stead. He didn’t think you’d notice.”
“Lies,” Wonder Woman says.
“Batman would contact us ourselves, not trick us. He’s our ally and we know him,” Superman states confidently.
“No, you misunderstand. He’s quite literally tied up,” Dick says and it dawns on Jason that Bruce Wayne must have been kidnapped when the call came through. In enough of a bind that a miraculous escape would put their identities at stake. Just great. Fucking great.
“He’s taken? We must save him,” Wonder Woman says.
“That’s not necessary,” Dick backtracks, realizing his mistake. “We already have someone on it, don’t worry.”
“Who?” Jason asks.
“The day shift,” Dick answers and Jason mentally translates that to Duke. Good for him. It’s very useful to have someone out there during the day for situations like this.
“Wait, is he claiming to know Batman?” Flash asks. “I mean, I know he’s dressed like Batman, but being captured and all, I thought he was kind of impersonating him and hatching some nefarious scheme, not, like, covering his shift.”
“He is impersonating Batman,” Superman says. “And we can’t trust his claims. He’s here to rescue Red Hood and he is one of Batman’s villains.”
“Oh, so they know him from fighting him,” Flash says, getting what Superman is implying.
“Where have you taken Batman!” Wonder Woman demands.
“I haven’t taken him! Batman isn’t taken,” Dick yelps. “His civvie ID is and he is getting rescued.”
“You know his secret identity? We don’t even know his identity,” Flash exclaims, actually pouting.
“Yes, I know his ID,” Dick says, almost desperate, Jason would feel bad, but he’s kind of given up and is just laying there. “You can check the Zeta-Beam logs, I’m Nightwing, I have access. I work in Gotham’s sister city, we team up sometimes. I know Batman, I promise. I’m just helping him out.”
“Helping him out by getting Red Hood out?” Superman asks, obviously not believing it.
Dick knows how it sounds and lets out a frustrated scream. “Yes!” he insists again. “How did you contact him to come here? How could I have known to come?”
That makes them pause for a second, before Superman shakes his head: “You could have intercepted the message.”
“I didn’t, you know how paranoid B is, his shit is unhackable,” Dick says.
“B?” Flash repeats to himself and Jason mentally face palms. It’s sweet that Dick tried to rescue him, but he feels like he only made it worse.
“We don’t know, maybe you could,” Superman says.
“Oh, he could be a shape-shifter, who took on Batman’s identity and hid the real Batman somewhere else to masquerade as him and help his fellow villains in some sort of plot,” Flash spins a theory.
Now Jason groans out loud and thunks his head on the floor, the impact dampened by his helmet, which is luckily still on. “Why the fuck would he then not take the exact form of Batman?” he asks, exasperated.
“Exactly, just check the logs, I’m Nightwing,” Dick backs him up, almost begging at this point.
“You could have faked that, if you intercepted the message,” Wonder Woman says, not letting Dick up for a second.
“It would make sense,” Flash nods.
“It would?” Superman asks and Jason curses. They should have pushed, the boy scout might have believed them, but the moment’s gone now.
“Yeah, if we bought it, then he could pretend to be Batman for forever and we wouldn’t be suspicious if he acted out of character, because he was a different person, but in our perception still a good guy. It’s smart,” Flash shrugs.
Jason really hates his life, because the Flash is making kind of sense and it appears that there not going anywhere anytime soon.
“I’ll contact Oracle again, Batman’s AI won’t be compromised where his phone might,” Wonder Woman says and Jason has to do a double take. They think Barbara is an AI?
He and Dick share a confused look, however when they hear Barbara pick up, Dick takes the moment to scream: “Tell B to get his ass over here.”
Jason immediately joins in: “O, I’ll owe you if you get me out of here in the next 30 minutes.”
Now all of the heroes present are giving the two of them a confused look as Wonder Woman relays: “We have Red Hood here and an impostor claiming to be Batman. Where is Batman, Oracle? Is he safe?”
While he can’t make out what she’s saying from here, Jason can still hear the amusement in Barbara’s voice as she answers Wonder Woman.
However, whatever she said, must be enough, because when Wonder Woman hangs up, she says: “If our friend does not show up within the next twenty minutes, we are free to go search for him.”
That’s quite fast, Jason thinks. If he could have gotten here so fast, why send Dick first? Jason could have waited for actual Batman. Dick must think the same, because he makes a confused noise, which turns into a little yelp, when Wonder Woman drags him to his feet. Jason starts laughing at him, but gets cut off when he gets hauled to his feet too.
They don’t leave for the cells again though, apparently they’ve decided to hang around here while they wait for B to show up. Flash does leave however, having been on monitor duty before the whole drama went down.
While they wait, Wonder Woman reaches out to Dick, saying: “Let’s reveal your true identity, impostor.”
“No, wait!” Dick yells. “The code states that as a hero, I cannot be discowled or unmasked without my explicit approval. I state that I am Nightwing, a hero, unless you can prove that I am not who I claim I am, you are not allowed to do that.”
Wonder Woman stills again, then asks: “How do you know that?”
“Uhm, I work with B, you really think he doesn’t make me memorize those codes?” Dick shoots back. “And if you knew it wasn’t allowed, why would you do that?” Another thing for on the list.
“You’re clearly a villain, that code does not apply,” Wonder Woman states.
“No, you think I’m a villain. Innocent until proven guilty,” Dick corrects.
“You broke into the Watchtower, that’s not screaming innocent,” Superman points out, which is kind of valid, but Jason has sat in enough on court trails against his own men. He knows that shit wouldn’t necessarily hold up.
“I had a good reason,” Dick huffs and Jason ignores how touched he is that Dick thinks that freeing him is a good enough reason to risk getting destroyed by the Justice League over.
After that, they’re all silent. Wonder Woman and Superman do try to talk with them again, but Dick knows, just as Jason does, that it’s smarter to keep your mouth shut. So they wait quietly as the minutes tick by.
It takes a long time.
By the time they hit seventeen minutes, Jason is starting to get worried B won’t get here in time and then they’ll have to deal with Superman and Wonder Woman tearing into Gotham to try and find their Batman.
Whenever they civvie IDs get taken hostage, it’s usually a media circus after and that’s when rescue doesn’t take overtime. He doesn’t know how Bruce is going to duck out of it. Maybe he has already failed.
Fucking fuck, how badly can one day go? How badly can Jason screw up that he hasn’t just compromised himself and his relation to Batman, but also Dick’s connection to both of them and risked Gotham’s entire vigilante population being found out by two metas, who will go into the city without permission.
It’s clear that Wonder Woman and Superman are getting antsy too, continuously checking the time and looking at the Zeta-Beam, waiting for it to come to life.
Just as they hit the nineteen minute mark, the Zeta-Beam whirs and the crisp voice announces Batman’s arrival. The man himself appearing like some water in the desert, dressed in his previous suit, though his arm is in a cast.
“Batman!” Wonder Woman exclaims in relief, as Superman worries: “What happened to you?”
“A minor mishap,” B replies. And Jason curses, it’s going to be a bitch to keep him out of the field like that and it doesn’t help prove their innocence in the slightest.
“I thought you were going to be busy for way longer,” Dick accuses, probably having been as surprised as Jason was that he could get here this fast.
“Signal is getting better and the broken arm helped me avoid the whole media circus,” Bruce explains apologetically.
“You actually know these two, Batman?” Superman asks, sounding a little hurt, betrayed and confused all at the same time.
“Yes, I honestly thought you wouldn’t notice Nightwing running this errand for me while I was preoccupied,” Batman informs them. “If I had known how today would run, I would have waited and retrieved Red Hood myself.”
There is absolutely no apology in his voice and it’s now doubly confirmed that Dick’s thank you had been a dead give away. Why is he being a dick to his friends? They all would have gotten a sorry if B pulled this shit on them. Dick is so going to lecture him.
“I demand an explanation,” Wonder Woman frowns. “That one is a criminal and we have not heard of Nightwing before. Why does he have access here? Why are you helping Red Hood?”
Batman sighs as if he’d seen this coming, but was hoping it wouldn’t happen. Then he says: “I’m here because Red Hood was undercover for me, you blew his mission. I send Nightwing to get him, because I trust him.”
“And not us?” Superman asks, even more hurt than before. “Batman, you thought we wouldn’t notice you being an entirely different person. You tried to trick us and never even informed us Red Hood worked for you.”
“Hey! I don’t work for that asshole,” Jason snaps, already annoyed since B blew the cover he worked so hard to keep, even if he wasn’t likely to get out of this without giving something away. He knows it’s stupid too, especially in these circumstances, but it’s always been a sensitive topic for him.
Superman and Wonder Woman now look between him and B and B explains: “He’s an independent vigilante, but we team up. I asked his help, he did it as a favor. I never told you, because telling you would compromise him. If we can spin this, it might solidify his standing in the organization, if you had known, you might have let him go and they might not have believed you. It was better this way.”
“I’m really starting to feel like you trust them more than us and that you’ve been lying,” Superman frowns. “We have always respected your privacy and not pried. But you’re keeping things from us. Important things. Things related to our work. And that’s not okay.”
Batman is now between a rock and a hard place and Jason would be more sympathetic if it weren’t B.
“There’s a reason I’m keeping this particular thing,” Batman says without offering any further explanation.
“This is no way to treat your fellow warriors,” Wonder Woman exclaims.
“I’m with her,” Dick pipes up.
“Me too,” Jason adds, because like hell is he siding with Bruce over Wonder Woman.
“You and me both know that we right here, are old enough that you don’t have to do this,” Dick says, almost imploring and Jason holds his breath. He can’t believe Dick is asking Bruce to break their non-association vow here.
“What is he talking about?” Superman demands. “How do you know them?”
B is quiet, assessing the situation, then he utters words Jason never thought he’d hear in front of anyone associated with the League. “They are my sons. I raised them. That’s why I trust them and why I’m here to get them.”
It’s deathly silent for a second, then both Wonder Woman and Superman burst with outrage of never having been told, of being kept in the dark with information like this. How did Batman keep this from them? Why?
Letting them rage for a moment, B speaks up again once they’ve quieted down: “They weren’t always adults and I didn’t know you well enough. I wasn’t going to endanger them. What if you were mind controlled or turned against me? They couldn’t become a target.”
“So what about I work alone?” Superman huffs. “We put effort into pulling you into our group.”
“And that is appreciated and it does take effort to learn how to work together, even if you’re already familiar with teamwork,” B counters. “But yes, I did lie. Having a certain persona here helped keep my children safe. I don’t regret it.”
Despite wanting to be better than this, Jason’s still touched that B would go this far for them. It has always been an insecurity of his, so no matter how shitty it is to the League, he can’t help but feel happy that Bruce chose him over them. That he doesn’t regret it.
Dick, however, doesn’t have that as much and has a different reaction. He pulls free from Wonder Woman’s grip, slackened by circumstance, and says: “And your persona is asshole? Jesus Christ, B, the least you can do is apologize. They got suspicious of me saying thank you, Agent A raised you better than that.”
B at least has the decency to look a little sheepish at that, shocking the two heroes and then shocking them even more when he says: “I am sorry for the trouble.”
“Great,” Jason breaks the tension, stepping away from Superman, because he’s had a roller coaster of a day and he is done. “Glad we got that all settled then. Nice to meet you two, let’s not do it again. If your see me, you don’t know me. Now, let’s to get out of here.”
“Wait, we want more answers,” Wonder Woman stops them.
“Wonder Woman,” B says, finally sounding like himself, tired and a little gruff, but not unkind. “I broke my arm less than an hour ago, I’ve been patrolling all week with three separate Arkham escapes and my kids just got chased and locked up. I need a moment. Promise that I’ll explain better tomorrow. Make it a meeting if you must.”
She still looks reluctant, but Superman is already won over. His kindness is easy to exploit Jason notes out of habit.
“Alright, Batman, but I expect you not to duck out,” he says.
With Superman allowing them to leave, Wonder Woman agrees too: “Yes, answers can come tomorrow. But know that I will come into Gotham to find you, should you not arrive.”
Jason sees Dick suppressing a snort. He has to agree that. With the forewarning and all of them there, they could stop her should B not want to go tomorrow. They’re not going to, B can face his own consequences and Jason doesn’t actually want to fight Wonder Woman, but it speaks to both of their naivety about their city.
“Thank you,” B says, probably feeling he’ll worsen Dick’s lecture otherwise.
Then he punches in his code on the Zeta-Beam and they’re in the Batcave before they know it, Barbara and Alfred waiting for them.
Barbara smirks: “You have no intention of letting them know about the others, do you?” Jason guesses she had already been here with Dick as often happens whenever one of them is kidnapped as a civilian.
“No,” B grunts.
Jason rolls his eyes and finally removes his helmet, holding out his shackles for Bruce to undo without a word. He’s going to crash in his room upstairs, eat some of Alfred’s delicious cooking and then come up with some way to make this whole thing work for him. He’s already invested two months in this stupid op, he’s not letting one shitty day ruin it.
While B undoes his shackles, Dick bounces over to Babs to let her undo his, saying: “Do you know the Justice League thinks you’re an AI?”
“Of course, people tell secrets to computers, not people they’ve never met before,” Babs shrugs easily.
“Oh you’re evil,” Dick grins and Jason agrees with a nod.
Now free, he also makes his way over to her and says: “What do I have to do to get the footage of Dickiebird here getting wrecked by Superman and Wonder Woman?”
“Hey, you got destroyed too,” Dick pouts.
“Not in the Watchtower while dressed as B. I looked cool,” Jason counters, half of that a lie. Fuck, he really hopes Babs hasn’t already found footage of his own take down.
“Get me those snacks I like next time you’re abroad and I’ll throw them in the group chat,” she says.
“Deal,” he shakes her hand, before Dick can interfere.
“You two are so mean,” he pouts even more. “You got taken down too, bet you looked stupid.”
“I did not,” Jason protests immediately, his cheeks feeling hot.
“Camera footage says otherwise,” Babs grins evilly, because she’s an evil evil-doer, who is out to get Jason with her evil ways.
“DO not show him that!” he shrieks, jumping to get her hands away from the keyboards, before she can pull it up, while Dick tries to fight him off so she can.
A part of him still can’t believe that today he nearly died for the second time at the hands of the blue boy scout and his idol, nor that Dick broke in to the Watchtower dressed as Batman to come get him.
Later he’ll have to deal with B’s paranoia over the Justice League knowing about him and Dick, write a report about the weak points of the Justice League, then worry about his own mission and all of that will be a hassle. But right now he’s worrying about making sure his eel footage never sees the light of day and wrestling with his brother and Babs.
All in all, today could have been worse.
~~
A/N:
I don’t think the Justice League is incompetent btw, I think Jason (and the other bats) are just kind of intense with their own security and a little judgmental.
#rr writing#batman#justice league#jl#jla#batfam#batfamily#jason todd#superman#wonder woman#dick grayson#bruce wayne#barbara gordon#flash#red hood#dc#dc comics
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