#I’ll get you next time gadget

[gleafer]

Sometimes before I have to tuck into a big job with a bad deadline, I need to mentally prepare myself with a few warm up sketches before hand to loosen the ol’ noggin.

They’re quick and messy, but make me giggle! It’s the sugar that makes the medicine go down.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 8)

Masterpost

The next day was less chaotic but not by much. They had to go through everything they’d taken from the Fenton’s lab, and reluctantly accepted Danny and Jazz’s help with the task because they were familiar with the tech. That was surprisingly needed since all of their gadgets were extremely obtuse and looked like household appliances. It was honestly surprising how good Danny was with all of this stuff, he knew what everything was, how to take it apart and how to put it back together to show the heroes how it worked. 

“They don’t all work for humans. Some have to be fueled with ectoplasm so they need to be constantly refueled. Dad used to wear a backpack full of the stuff ghost busters style but that’s really not practical so this one isn’t very useful to you. I can use it though,” Danny said as he screwed the last part back on the.. Whatever it was. 

“Okay, but why does it look like a blender?” Tim asked, baffled and impressed.

“Oh that’s because that’s what it was built out of,” Danny said with a crooked smile. “We repurposed a lot of household items into tech. Give me a couple toasters and a microwave and I’ll have three specter deflectors ready for you before dinner time.” He said as he pressed his hand against one of the gins and it started glowing intently green.

“Here don’t drop it,” He said tossing it to Batman, who did manage to catch it. “I fueled it with three shots, just in case Vlad shows up or another ghosts threatens you. And actually even with your charms I would feel a lot better if you all had specter deflectors since you’re all involved with me now,” He sighed and rubbed his face. 

“Well… we can get you toasters and a microwave but we can also get you more advanced parts if those will work better,” Bruce told Danny, gingerly holding the odd gun away from himself. It wasn’t a traditional gun so it wasn’t upsetting but he still didn’t like it. 

Danny looked very tempted but he shook his head. “No I’d better do it with what I know, I can get it done faster that way and they work. I’d love to play with some of those more advanced parts though. I’m sure I can come with some fun stuff.” 

Uh oh, Bruce didn’t like that look on Tim’s face, the last thing he needed was more encouragement! But Danny was the child of mad scientists, he would get along perfectly with Tim, Bruce was going to have to keep a close eye on them to make sure they didn’t accidentally make a death ray. 

“You can join me in my lab later,” Tim offered hopefully and Danny glanced up at him with a borderline feral grin. 

“That sounds great, I’m sure you have much better lab safety than my parents. Love engineering, would hate to die a second time.” He said it like a joke, just the way Jason tended to. Jazz laughed, but only to encourage her brother’s coping method, no one else did. 

“Alright, we’ll go to the nearest home appliance store and get you some toasters and microwaves,” Bruce said. 

“Hell ya, I should have been adopted by a rich family years ago,” Danny cackled. Oh dear, he’d been so traumatized yesterday Bruce hadn’t realized he was Feral. Why did this keep happening.

He informed Alfred of Danny’s request and by the time they finished going over the more confusing inventions and left for lunch the appliances were waiting for Danny in the lab that he and Tim would apparently now be sharing. Danny immediately dove on the machinery starting to take them apart with practiced hands. He seemed calm and in his element but Tim stayed to supervise, both just in case something went wrong, and because it was His lab and they hadn’t talked about rules of cohabitation yet.

Bruce left them to it. Alfred had informed him that Jason had arrived and headed straight to the kitchen without saying hello to anyone else. It wasn’t a surprise, he was closest to Alfred, he’s want to help with making dinner, and get the basic scoop from his most trusted family member before having to face anyone else. Bruce knew better than to intrude on that, but God did he want to. 

Regardless of what his children thought Bruce cared deeply for all of them, and he hated that sometimes they doubted it. He wished he was better at telling and showing them, but he’d managed to convince himself it was too late for him to change so he didn’t have to face the years of mistakes and trauma he had endured and inflicted. No matter what what image he tried to project, he was still only human.

He went to his office, but he couldn’t settle to anything, he did a little bit of this, and little bit of that, and just ended up pacing the carpeted floor. He left them alone as long as he could before he gave in and went down to the kitchen.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just needed a cup of coffee,” He said as casually as he could. The looks Alfred and Jason gave him said neither of them actually believed his excuse, which was fair. “It’s good to see you Jaylad, thanks for coming.”

“Well I’m not going to miss out on a new brother am I? You gonna have this one running around in spandex too B?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, it made Bruce wince but it Was progress because he was acknowledging their familial ties. 

“I’m almost two years too late to stop him,” Bruce said regretfully. “It’s been… a lot has happened. I’m sure Alfred caught you up on most of it, but I’d like to talk to you before you meet either of the siblings.”

“Trying to make sure I won’t be a bad influence?” Jason asked and Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or accusing. 

“No, nothing like that,” Bruce said, holding up his hands. “I just want to talk.”

Jason hummed skeptically, scrutinizing Bruce before turning back towards Alfred. “What do you think Alfie, can you spare me?”

“I always appreciate your help master Jason, but I can manage on my own,” Alfred assured, sounding amused. 

“Alright, to your office then?” Jason asked, turning back towards Bruce. 

“Or the sitting room, whichever would be more comfortable.”

“Office,” Jason said firmly, this was the distance that he was keeping between them. They worked together now, and Jason cared for his siblings, but he kept them all at arms length. For everyone’s safety really, if they set him off he didn’t want to hurt them, and he didn’t want to be set off either. It always felt like shit. Jason followed Bruce to the office and sprawled in the soft chair across the desk from Bruce’s. He remembered being a kid, sitting properly and nervously in this chair across from Bruce hoping desperately for his approval. How times change.

“I just wanted to talk to you about the new kids” Bruce started and Jason waved him away.

“I’m really not going to corrupt them or anything, I Probably won’t be around enough to make a difference anyway.” Jason said dismissively.

Bruce took a deep breath, controlling his expression and folding his hands on the table. “That’s not it Jaylad, Alfred must have told you that the boy died and came back?” 

Jason tensed and green swirled in his vision, it was the same thing that Bruce had seen in Danny when Zatana asked about Phantom. “Ya he did.” Defensive and insecure.

“It seems like he, and his sister who was sort of a caretaker to him, know a lot more than we do about the effect that that has on a person. To help us take care of Danny she gave us a presentation about it, it… makes a lot of sense. You should probably talk to her and Danny about it really but I just wanted to apologize. 

“I’ve been trying to fix this, fix… you for a long time and I know I’ve been going about it wrong and I’ve been hurting you.”

“You got a new treatment plan in mind, old man?” Jason asked, his arms crossed and Bruce wished that mistrust wasn’t earned. 

“No,” Bruce sighed looking down. “Really Jason I don’t, I know I was wrong. This is something I just didn’t know I didn’t know about,” He hated his own ignorance, he hated to admit it! He was Batman! The way he kept up with other superheroes was always being prepared for everything and knowing more than everyone around him, but he hadn’t even known there was something there to know!

“This isn’t about that, and it’s not about you staying away from the new kids. Exactly the opposite actually, since they know more about this, and Danny might be one of the few people who really understands what it’s like to die and come back like that, I was hoping you’d spend more time here, around them. I think it might help you both.”

“Huh,” Jason sounded, blinking rapidly because that was the most sincere apology he’d gotten from Bruce and he didn’t quite know how to react to it. “Maybe… maybe.” He hadn’t met the new siblings yet after all, maybe they’d hate each other. 

“Can I meet them now?” He asked looking back up at Bruce curiously. 

“Of course, the girl's name is Jasmine Fenton, called Jazz, the boy goes by Danny. Jazz is turning 18 soon, Danny is 16.” 

Right Tim had mentioned that, so Danny was about 3 years younger than him then. That shouldn’t matter too much, and maybe Tim will be right about the sister and can tease Jason about it. He’d been single for a while and wouldn’t mind changing that.

“Of course, I think you should meet Jazz first, she’s protective of Danny and she hasn’t been very involved in all of this. I think she’d feel better being allowed to… vet you first for lack of a better word. Are you okay with that?” Bruce asked Jason politely. 

“Sure, I don’t really care what order I meet them in and… Look Bruce I know I’m mad at you, and I was really hard on Timmy when everything was still raw. But I’m never going to knowingly hurt a kid, or make life harder for them. If I can help them I will,” Jason said sincerely. 

“Jason, the girl is less than a year younger than you. You’re a kid too,” Bruce said sadly. Jason froze for a moment, Yes he was 19, his mind wasn’t fully developed yet or whatever the hell, but he hadn’t felt like a kid since his death. Even before that, the responsibility for his mother, and then the work as a hero. Bruce wanted soldiers, Jason had never gotten a chance to be a kid really.

“Whatever,” Jason scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and standing up, closing himself off from that sincerity. “Do you know where she is?”

“She’s in the library,” Bruce said, his lips twitching up in a smile. “She loves books almost as much as you did, though she seems to be more drawn to non-fiction.” 

Jason hummed and nodded, heading towards the door since he knew his own damn way to the library, Bruce didn’t have to lead! He did follow through, he was clearly protective of these kids so of course he would want to be there when Jason met them.

When he entered the library he saw a young woman sitting at one of the tables with some sort of text book. Her back was straight and her legs tucked under the chair with her ankles crossed. It looked like she was self consciously trying to look put together. She looked up at them, blue green eyes looking him over critically, he could practically see her picking him apart in her mind and he tried not to fidget.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jason Todd,” He said, walking over and offering her his hand to shake. She was very pretty, but he was surprised by his own complete lack of attraction, she just didn’t register that way, she seemed more… maternal almost.

“Ah, the dead son,” She chuckled, getting up from the table and reaching out to shake his hand, her grip was strong and her hands were soft and cool. “It’s nice to meet you, they mentioned you. Nothing bad,” She added when she saw her face. “And I don’t mean to be rude, I know some people are sensitive about their deaths being mentioned. Danny jokes about it all the time so… I just wanted to let you know that I know, and I accept you.” Jazz said with a warm smile. 

Her easy acceptance caught him off guard and before he could help it he was baring his teeth at her in a snarl, defensive and probing, did she mean it? She grinned sharper bearing sharp fangs at him in a matching sign of… friendly aggression, something inside him settled. He chuckled and took a step back. “Well thanks, nice to meet someone who doesn’t look like they bit a lemon every time I make a death joke.”

“It’s your death, as long as it’s healthy you can own that however comes naturally to you,” Jazz promised, sitting back down at the desk. “I’d love to talk more and get to know you, but we can do that later. You really should meet Danny.”

“You don’t want to come with us,” Bruce broke in, sounding worried. Jason had almost forgotten he was there, he hadn’t realized how… all encompassing the short interaction had been.

“I’ll probably follow,” Jazz said with a shrug, her gaze turning stern as she looked at Bruce. “Remember what I said about never breaking up a fight,” She told him firmly. 

Well if that didn’t make Jason nervous he didn’t know what did. Why would he fight with Danny? Would Danny fight with him? Why? “You really think it’s a good idea for us to meet? Why would we fight?” Jason asked her sharply.

“Of course,” she agreed, her eyes softening as she looked back at him, though her expression remained a little mischievous. “It’ll be good for both of you.”

Next

[delicatebarness]

bridges to burn | prologue

Summary: You arrive at the Avengers Compound to manage your uncontrollable Extremis powers. As you navigated the new environment, you clash with your assigned babysitter/bodyguard, Bucky Barnes.

Warning: MCU Spoilers. Iron Man 3. Intense Emotional Conflict. Superpowers and Uncontrollable Abilities. Parental Concern and Pressure. Family Tension. Emotional and Physical Heat.

Word Count: 1103

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: Oh look, another.

BTB Tags: - Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this serious.

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan | @lanabuckybarnes

Touching down at the Avengers Compound, the Quinjet’s engines hummed softly as they powered down. You stepped off the lowering ramp and took in the sprawling complex. The building was an impressive blend of sleek modern design and cutting-edge technology, lush greenery surrounded the wide-open spaces. The peaceful landscape contrasted against the bustling chaos of the city, where you spent most of your life. 

Your dad, Tony Stark, stood waiting for you near the entrance, concern, and determination etched across his aging features. The familiar scent of motor oil and cologne filled your senses as he enveloped you in a quick hug. His grip around you was firm, silently reassuring you that he was there for you. 

“Welcome home, kid,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. However, his eyes revealed the worry he had tried to mask. “Come on, let me show you around.” 

Following him through the compound, you passed training rooms that were filled with state-of-the-art equipment, common areas where you caught glimpses of some familiar faces, and the impressive hangar with various vehicles and aircraft. The building buzzed with activity, yet there was still a sense of order and purpose. 

Finally, you reached Tony’s sanctuary, his lab. The place you knew he felt most at home. You marveled at the array of gadgets and projects scattered around, as you followed his gesture for you to step in. Screens displayed holographic schematics, while robotic arms moved with precision, a new creation being assembled. The faint hum of machinery was a comforting backdrop. 

“And, this is where the magic happens,” Tony said, pride touching his voice. Watching you take it all in, his lips played a small smile. “But, before you get too comfortable, there’s something we need to talk about.” 

Raising your eyebrow suspiciously, you waited for him to continue. Looking uncharacteristically nervous, he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I know things have been… rough since the incident,” he began, trying carefully to choose his words. He leaned against a workbench, fixing his gaze on a point somewhere behind you, crossing his arms over his chest. “And, I know you’re struggling to control the Extremis,” he trailed off, pausing before he continued, “but, we can’t have another accident like that. Not again.” 

The memory of the uncontrollable heat coursing through your veins caused you to flinch. The sight of the flames, the smell of burning wood, the panic in the firefighter’s voice as they tried to contain the damage. Since it saved your life as a child, you lived with the Extremis virus. Your mother, Maya Hansen’s legacy, turned you into a ticking time bomb. 

“I know, Dad,” you sighed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll do better.” 

Shaking his head, Tony pushed off the workbench and stepped closer to you. “It’s not about doing better. It’s about getting help. Which is why I’ve arranged for someone to keep an eye on you.” 

The door to the lab opened, snapping your attention away from your dad before you could protest. And in walked, Bucky Barnes– The Winter Soldier. You had seen him in action and heard the ghost stories, but meeting him in person… that was different. He was imposing, a steely gaze seemingly assessing every detail of the room, and you. As he approached, his movements were fluid, almost predatory.

“Tin-Man, this is my daughter,” Tony spoke as he gestured toward you. “She’s going to be staying here for a while. And… you’re going to be looking out for her.” 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly toward you, and you could see in his piercing gaze that he was as thrilled about this arrangement as you were. “I was expecting a kid,” he said bluntly, a hint of annoyance carrying in his voice. Crossing his arms over his chest, the metal of his arm caught against the light. 

“No, I’m not a kid,” you snap back, matching his posture. “And, I don’t need a glorified babysitter. Unless,” you paused, shoot Bucky a playful smirk. “You’re here to tuck me in and read me a bedtime story?” 

Tony stepped between you, holding up a hand to forestall any pending argument. “Easy, both of you. This isn’t up for debate. Barnes�� here to help, whether you like it or not.” 

You glare at Bucky, who returns the look with an equal intensity. “Fantastic,” you said, your voice dripped with sarcasm. “My very own bodyguard, don’t expect me to make this easy for you.”

Smirking, Bucky’s eyes filled with amusement almost as if he was accepting a challenge. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, your iris’ blazed with anger, a burning orange glow. 

His smirk never faltered. “Whatever you say… Princess.” 

Watching the exchange, Tony’s expression changed to one of concern and exasperation. His face, usually composed, now showed signs of strained patience. Rubbing a hand over his face, he tried to stifle a sigh. “Alright, both of you,” he injects, his voice filled with frustration. “This isn’t a battlefield. Can we at least try to keep it professional?” 

You took a glance at Tony, then back at Bucky, who still had a smirk plastered across his face, enjoying the friction. Tony continued, his tone firm but weary. “I get that you two won’t see eye to eye, but let’s keep the drama to a minimum. We’re here to make sure things don’t  go up in flames, literally.” 

Squaring off with Bucky, you took another step closer. The heat between you both was almost tangible. “I mean it, Winter Soldier. I’m not some dame in distress that you get to boss around.” 

Leaning in, his voice was a low, taunting whisper. “And I’m not some nanny here to hold your hand.” 

The tension crackled between you, and you noticed how his eyes were cold and calculating, with a flicker of something else– something that mirrored the heat in your own. You weren’t sure if it was anger or something more, but whatever it was, made your heart race. 

“Good,” you retorted, sarcasm stayed laced within your words. “I wouldn’t want you thinking you could handle me.” 

His eyes locked with yours, his smirking only growing. “Trust me, Princess, I can handle anything you throw at me.” 

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes, yet you couldn’t help but feel the thrill of his challenge rush through you. “We’ll see about that.” 

As you turned to leave, you felt his gaze burning into your back. This wasn’t over– far from it. And somehow, the thought of that excited you as much as it infuriated you.

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ after hours Another midnight stuck in the office, paperwork and tech piling up by the second. Sometimes, all it takes is a kick in the ass to take a break and remind yourself that you're only human.

content // late nights at work, just some fluff and fun behind the scenes of the hero world. reader’s support tech alias is Mechanica. wc // 0.9k

『 k.bakugo masterlist | caramel & champagne series 』

It’s been a long, exhausting month at the Dynamight Agency. Bakugo’s been on back to back emergency calls and scheduled patrols while you’ve been pulling double shifts to stay caught up with all of the repairs needed from said emergencies. It was a constant stream of issues popping up the second you’d finish fixing the last gadget of the bunch.

“Mechanica! My suit’s on the fritz. Can you check the wiring you installed?”

“Mecha, how’s it going? Sorry to bother you, but I’m out of the electro-bombs you made for me last week. Could you spare a few more?”

���Hey! You’re the top support tech here, right? Red Riot told me to come find ya. I busted my helmet last night and the visor doesn’t work anymore. Can you fix it? The infrared tech seems to have been fried."

Using your quirk for extended periods of time was draining as hell, as helpful as it was. Your fixes typically require a tool or two, or a quick recharge to a piece of gear you’ve created in the past, not three weeks of back-to-back quirk usage. A vacation sounds real nice, but alas, a heroes work is never truly done.

A familiar set of footsteps comes trudging toward the workshop as you’re inspecting a piece of circuitry - you know those boots anywhere.

“Peach, I thought ya went home?” Bakugo asks you while placing a broken gauntlet on one of the open work tables. “Like...hours ago.”

Sarcastically, you wave your hand to the piles of items next to you.

“I was when I messaged you earlier, and then everyone in the damn agency suddenly needed repairs.”

You peer around him to the bracer he placed on one of the other tables. Son of a bitch, you fixed that yesterday!

“Katsuki…you didn’t.”

You don’t mean for your tone to sound accusatory, but you’re grumpy and want to go home. Bakugo huffs under his breath and waves you off.

“Relax sweets, s’just a backup that’s busted. Villain stabbed right through it and it cracked one of the gaskets inside. Still got my good set in the office.”

“Every one is a good set, ‘Ki. I’ll get to it tomorrow, maybe I should build you a third set for when you smash the good pair.”

He knew the bite in your tone wasn’t aimed at him, it’s was just a result of your exhaustion and didn’t hold it against you.

“Why don’t we go home together? Leave all that for tomorrow. S’late,” Bakugo suggests, taking the tools out of your hands and laying them on the table. “Have your team do the dirty work. You’re gonna run yourself into the ground.”

“You have absolutely no room to talk, Mr. Running on Four Hours of Sleep.” You playfully smack him in the bicep before rearranging the tools on the table. “You didn’t even come to bed last night, you passed out on the couch in your hero gear.”

He shakes his head before grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Katsuki! Put me down!” You squeal, half annoyed and half giddy.

“Nah, cause if I do, you’ll be glued to this station for god knows how long." Bakugo smacks your ass to get you to sit still, a grin plastered on his face. "It’s past midnight, peaches. Takin’ you home and throwin’ us both in the shower. And we’re stayin’ home tomorrow, boss’s orders.”

There's no force in the world that could stop Katsuki Bakugo once his mind is made up - no use in fighting the inevitable.

You dramatically let your body rag doll in his hold. "Fine, but you have to carry me all the way home."

“I’d carry you to the edge of the world, sweetheart.”

How does this man one up himself every single day and steal your heart all over again?

“You’re so mushy when you’re tired,” you tease, reaching down to squeeze at his side to tickle him. “If only everyone else could see the big bad Dynamight right now, carrying his exhausted wife home. That would be a hell of a headline.”

Bakugo feigns dropping you in retaliation, catching you at the last second and shifting you back on his shoulder like you were weightless.

“Shut it or I’ll drop you in a puddle on the way home,” he cackles while pinching your thigh. “Ain’t no way in hell I’m lettin’ those paparazzi jackasses catch a glimpse of your ass.”

He makes a fair point. You were already in the spotlight recently, no need to add any more fuel to that fire.

The two of you exit the workshop, turning the lights off and heading to the rooftop to blast home. Bakugo’s version of flying never fails to fill you with adrenaline, a personalized rollercoaster ride all the way from the agency to your shared apartment. When you get home, Phoenix lovingly jumps off the couch and trots over to you two, rubbing between your legs and chirping happily.

“Can you feed Nix, babe?“ you ask as you’re stripping out of your workshop clothes and nodding toward the begging kitty at your feet. “I’ll start the shower. Leave your suit out here, too. We can toss them in the wash tomorrow.”

The domestic routine kicks in for the Bakugo household, just delayed by a few hours. After your shower, the two of you relax together in the bath, enjoying the silence of each other’s company. The alarm clock reads 2:13AM by the time you’re crawling under the sheets, tucked under Bakugo’s arm and cradled against his chest. He turns off the “work” alarm for the both of you, solidifying his decision for a much needed day off.

It’s little moments like these that remind you how human the two of you are in the midst of it all - even heroes need breaks.

⇢ subscribers; @sunflowers-4 @sweetloveandaffection

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[cornerstoreclown]

Mornings with Art? I think it’s a cute scene to imagine Art eating while reader comes in (all sleepy and groggy and out of it cause they just woke up), wordlessly kisses him on the cheek, and makes her breakfast

Writing this before bed. So if there’s errors, I’ll get ‘em tomorrow. For now here’s some domestic shit. I did add dialogue though, I hope that’s okay! I was trying to think of how to go about it without words but then I just went wherever my head led me.

F!Reader x Art

———————————

Ever since he’d come home one particularly bad night due to a victim that just so happened to be carrying a firearm, he’d been taking it easy on himself. A few bullet wounds here and there, which you helped him patch up with the standard bandages and gauze, but for the most part he took his injuries in stride, opting to lay low and keep indoors for however long he decided. Dying was hard when you were a supernatural force, which you knew he very well was. You let him borrow the spare room to work on whatever gadgets and gizmos he wanted to create for his next escapade–for whatever that might actually entail.

As long as you’re not at the end of his knife, gun, mace–whatever weapon he decides to use, you’re fine with it. Though you know one day you might end up with one of those weapons lodged in your back or in your skull, you pray that it never happens. The first mistake would be to get comfortable around this man and let your guard down, which you never did.

However, it’s moments like this, when he’s sitting at the kitchen table when you head downstairs for breakfast that really make you want to do otherwise. Especially right now.

Art was sitting right at the kitchen table, eating frozen pizza from last nights dinner, and he’s doing it rather politely, you note. One slice on a paper plate, napkin nearby, and another slice being daintily held with both hands as he quietly and gently chews each bite he takes.

You have to remind yourself he killed someone last month and ate a rat last week. But it doesn’t stop you from tiredly smiling as you watch him through your unkempt hair that obscures part of your vision.

He merely regards you with a look, still munching away.

Fatigue whispers in your ear and urges you back to your warm and comfy bed. But whether you’re burdened by school, work, or both, there’s no rest to be had.

“Hey,” You yawn tiredly, walking your way to the coffee machine. It was either that or tea this morning. Art was a tea kind of guy, so you put on the electric kettle for him.

He resumes eating, almost finishing his first slice. He’s now got one leg crossed over the other as he assesses you in your oversized t-shirt, munching away on the crust. He has an aura of sassiness to him this morning with that body language.

“Yeah, yeah, I look rough, I know. Not all of us are divas when we wake up,” You lean against the counter, folding your arms across your chest. “And pizza? For breakfast? Come on.”

Art just responds in kind with fluffing up his imaginary hair and then flipping it over his shoulder. Bad hair day? Couldn’t be him!

“You got any plans for today, or are you just gonna go back to crafting shit in my spare room?”

Art shrugs his shoulders as he reaches for the second pizza slice, this time ripping off parts of the cold sauced and cheesed up flatbread to pop in his mouth in a very prim manner. He’s been very into letting his whims lead his decisions as of late.

“Gotcha.” You remark, not sure where to continue the conversation immediately, but you don’t need to worry about that as your coffee has finished brewing and the electric kettle has heat up the water. You sweeten your coffee to taste, as well as Art’s tea in a timely manner. He liked his drinks sweet. Anything bitter was an immediate no. With the remaining hot water in the kettle, you use it to make yourself instant oatmeal.

You plant a kiss to his cheek which he allows as you put his drink down near him. You take your seat on the other side of the table where your oatmeal waits, coffee mug in hand, watching him eat. Silence passes between the two of you until you finally voice what you’ve been thinking for the past few minutes.

“Can you rip me off a piece?”

[yoursweetwife]

hi i’m absolutely brain rottimg about dr ratio while trying to complete a lab report

just thinking about his partner complaining about statistics and about how they despise statistical analysis. they’ve got this report to do (i wonder where this idea is coming from…) and they’re dreading it

he notices them furrowing their brows as they input data into this analysis program, cursing under their breath.

“aeons, why is this so confusing…? the graphs they use… why can’t i tell if…” they’re mumbling under their breath, absolutely confused. they’ve actually been at it for a while, and ratio *hates* to admit that he’s beginning to miss their presence…

so he goes up and pries the laptop out of their hands, with a soft mumble of ‘you’re an idiot’ under his breath.

“i’ll help you out. it’s better than watching you fumble with the data like an idiot.” he says softly, but he really is too embarrassed to admit he would literally do their whole lab report for them if they asked him.

just thinking of soft fluffy dr ratio begrudgingly helping his partner suffer through their lab work. as a reward they smother him in kisses and he hates to admit he enjoys seeing them so happy and thankful…

GET HIM OUT OF MY BRAIN!!! IM BRAINROTTING!! I WANT HIM DEAD /J

Sorry, it took me a long time to respond to your request. Since you didn't specify gender, I decided to take a female reader

synopsis: [name] was tired and Ratio decided to help his lover

frmale!reader

Sitting on the flock sofa, Ratio looked up from his book from time to time to look at his watch. From the outside it may seem that he is completely calm, but inside the scientist was trying to overcome his own anxiety. Only the rapid tapping of his fingers on the pages of the book betrayed his irritation.

Ratio ran his hand through his disheveled hair and sighed irritably. How long he's been sitting here? Ever since you told him to go to bed alone because you had a lab report to fill out, and Ratio knew how much you hated that, but you hated asking him for help even more. And no matter how much Veritas respected you for this, your absence began to bother him.

And Ratio hates this feeling, now even being alone in the room seems like some kind of torture, he’s used to your more physical displays of affection, cuddling against his side, resting your head on his shoulder..

Quiet rustling noises made Ratio glance displeasedly towards the kitchen. He put the book on the coffee table and headed into the next room, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Already at the door frame, his golden eyes met your tired figure. He could hear you irritably whispering curses under your breath while writing something down, and Ratio began to fear that you were about to cry, seeing your completely confused face and futile attempts to fill out the table.

You didn't even notice his bulky figure standing right in front of you, and his worried expression never reached your eyes. For a couple of seconds, he had the urge to throw the ill-fated laptop out the window.

"Oh, I don't understand...what.."

Here again, Ratio rubbed the bridge of his nose, and with light steps walked straight to the table, before you even had time to come to your senses, as the gadget slammed shut in front of your face, making you flinch.

Veritas stands at the side of the table, keeping his hand on the computer and staring irritably straight into your tired eyes. His whole body was tense, as evidenced by the bulging veins on his strong arms and twitching muscles, you almost thought that he was going to scold you for your idiocy, as if you were one of his students.

"Veritas, what are you doing?"

He interrupted your question and leaned closer to your face, and you involuntarily held your breath, avoiding his assessing gaze and waiting for the next words.

“Idiot, how long are you going to rack your brain over such basic things? If you continue to stare mindlessly at the screen, knowledge will not appear in your head automatically.”

Ratio crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you expectantly. You laughed awkwardly and leaned back in your chair, relaxing for the first time in hours.

“What else could I do but stare mindlessly?”

You decided to joke to diffuse the tension. But your lover seemed to take it seriously and pointed to himself proudly.

"For example, asking me for help."

The look of surprise your face did not go unnoticed, but almost immediately it was replaced by a slight smile. Ratio's face relaxed a little, and his cheeks turned a light crimson shade.He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"I'll help you. It's better than watching you fiddle with data like an idiot."

In just a second he was sitting next to you, opening laptop to see what he had to work with. For aeons, he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and be in a soft bed with you in his arms.

You silently watched Veritas’s actions, listening to his explanations, but your thoughts constantly went somewhere else. Contrary to popular belief, Ratio is quite a cute lover, especially in the mornings when he is too sleepy to try to act cool and confident. And his attempts to hide his need for you are adorable.

Soon the work was almost finished, and you even learned something during this time and helped Veritas, for which you received a dry “not bad,” but pride was visible in his eyes.

You couldn't help but yawn, causing tears to form in your eyes. Your lover shook his head softly. His sweet troubled woman.

"Time for bed, you look like you might faint from exhaustion."

“Thank you, Veritas, now I’ll clean everything up and we’ll go...”

Just as you reached for the mess on the table, Veritas stopped your hand, gently grabbing your wrist, and looked at you sternly.

"I'm pretty sure it can wait until tomorrow."

"But..."

With his free hand, Veritas lifted your chin while the other rested on your waist.

"No "but", we're going to the room now and you won't get out of bed until the next morning."

Ratio said, draw out each word. A deep blush filled your cheeks, for the first time Veritas looked so...needy, and he also seemed surprised by his own words.

Veritas let go of you almost immediately and turned away, trying to hide his red face, but you prevented him by grabbing both of his hands.

“It seems like I never thanked you for your help, does it?”

Your soft hands came to rest on his face, pulling him closer to place a light but passionate kiss on his lips. And Veritas wasted no time in deepening the kiss, leaning into your soothing touch.

If you always thank him like that, then he is ready to fill out thousands of such reports.

You soon broke contact and a few more quick kisses landed on his cheeks, forehead and nose, causing him to protest, but despite the outward hostility, Veritas clearly wanted more, and you were going to give it to him.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Sweet Home

idk how the multiverse works so im just fucking up the worldbuilding but basically my hc is that whenever a dimension suffers trauma (too many ppl leaving dimensions, rift in time etcetc), it will create a shield around itself, preventing anyone from entering or leaving as it works to self-correct. 

(Yandere, dark, kidnapping, captive, delusional behavior, gn reader, implied deaths, talks of bombs)

Yandere!Miguel O'hara x reader

Honestly, you weren’t much of a threat. 

It was a rather misfortunate case of wrong place wrong time. One second, you were in your home, mulling about. The next, you were across dimensions. 

At least, that’s how it was explained to you. You had no idea there could be more than one spiderman, and now you were surrounding by millions. Maybe even billions. Here they all were. Heroes, all working together to save the multiverse, returning innocent people, like you, back to where they came from. 

But, according to Miguel, you were a special case. 

“It’s not too hot, this time?” He asks, his face in the same scowl as always. Before, you assumed he hated you. Now, you realize the man had a hard time showcasing emotion. 

It’s still there, though. You can see the concern in his eyes as they soften ever so slightly, as if he was remembering the scalding hot tea that burned your tongue. 

You tasted it, smiling at its perfection. When you mentioned you preferred something sweet, you had almost choked on the lump of sugar at the end of the cup Miguel prepared. After that, he was much more lenient with sugar. 

Ever since, you were put into his custody, he made it very clear your comfort would be his top priority. You never considered a superhero agency to be comforting, but the room he lent you was spacious and had a warm fluffy bed, food was always delicious, the guilt-filled gifts were always nice. It was clear the man spared no expense. 

“It’s perfect,” you say, “thank you.” 

He gives a smile. Though, it’s strained, like he’s not sure if he’s doing it correctly. He finally gives up, staring down at your techband. It wasn’t as sophisticated as his, you understood why you couldn’t have one, you were just grateful it stopped you from glitching. 

“So...is there anything new?” You ask, careful to broach the subject. 

You couldn’t go back home, not yet. It had taken a while for you to calm down when you were first brought here. You had been terrified, fearing for your life surrounded by these strangers who all strangely resembled spiderman. It was Miguel that had talked you down. He wasn’t patronizing, didn’t coddle you, but he wasn’t unkind. 

He explained things carefully. When you had been ripped from your dimension, something had gone wrong. The dimension had closed in, as if it were a living creature defending itself, an armadillo creating a thick shell. No one could go in or out. 

So, here you stayed at the spiderman’s headquarters, temporarily dimensionless. 

You peered into Miguel’s face. He was tired. He always looked tired. You wondered if he was getting enough sleep. Guiltily, you knew you were partially a reason for that. 

“Nothing.” He sighed. “We still can’t communicate to your spiderman, nor can we break into the gates. So far, no progress.” 

You had a feeling that’d be the case. You gave a strained smile, feeling more and more hopeless. 

“Hey.” His hand was warm on your shoulder. “I’ll find a way to get you back home, I promise. Don’t give up on me just yet.” 

He was close, leaning in just so your faces were inches apart. Miguel was just being kind, you knew that. But his height and stature had always intimidated you. A part of you was sure he knew that. It was why he would always hover over your, like it was some way to subconsciously keep you in check. 

It was an absurd thought. As always, you shook it off. 

“And besides, if we can’t, you’re always free to stay here.” He gave a lazy wave to the spacious room filled with gadgets you couldn’t even begin to describe. 

 It was a joke. You knew that. Miguel was adamant about ‘anomalies’ being returned to where they belonged. You were certain he would’ve thrown you back into your dimension if the situation were different. Yet, just the thought of staying here forever, never seeing your friends or family ever again tugged on your heart. 

You appreciated everything Miguel had done for you, he had gone above and beyond, but you were lonely. Due to protocol, only Miguel was able to see you. You understood it, but it didn’t mean you were not allowed to have human emotions. 

You longed for home. 

He must have seen it in your eyes because he pulled back some. The lines on his face hardened ever so slightly. He was angry. Not at you. Never at you. 

“You done with that?” He changed the subject, gesturing to your cup. 

Nodding, you return it to him gratefully. He stands up, grabbing the remnants of lunch and dirty dishes. 

“I’ll be back.” He tells you, and he’s assured you plenty of times that you weren’t, but it was hard not to feel like a prisoner as you watched him leave through a metal door. 

You waited for ten seconds, and then you rose from your own seat. 

There were only two rooms you had access to. Your own, and then Miguel’s office. 

Well, it wasn’t really an office. It was a large computer room, but Miguel always worked here, and you always kept him company, much preferring the companionship of at least one human rather than the solitude of your bedroom. 

Over time, he seemed to trust you a bit more. Or maybe he started underestimating you. Over time, he had accidentally given you most of the passwords to this place, not really paying attention as you not-so-secretly spied on his work.

You felt a little guilty for snooping, but a part of you was frustrated. You’d been stuck here for weeks, with no concrete answer. Miguel always seemed to evade your questions. You wanted an explanation. Assurance. 

Strangely enough, you felt a little old as you clumsily operated a machine that was decades into the future. It was a humbling experience. You typed in your dimension number, a sequence you knew by heart. 

Huh. 

You weren’t sure what a closed dimension looked like, but it certainly wouldn’t look like this. It looked fine. Despite your minimal experience with looking at dimension maps, you could tell the gates were opened. You could even see tiny dots flitting in and out. People.

Everything looked fine. 

Then...why did Miguel say you couldn’t go home? 

“What are you doing?” 

You hadn’t even noticed he’d come back. He had been so silent. Like a spider. 

You whirl around to face him. For the first time, you realize you’d never actually seen him without his signature blue and red costume. His face was stony. His demeanor had changed, as if earlier he was actively trying to pretend around you. Before, he used to slouch slightly, his hands would drape awkwardly at his sides. Now, his back was straight, arms ready. 

You’d never thought Miguel as threatening before.

Still, you try your best to loosen the sudden tension in the room. You give a sheepish smile, hoping it doesn’t wobble like your heartbeat. 

“I think my dimension just opened up,” You mutter, halfheartedly pointing to the screen, “Does this mean I can go back home?” 

He steps forward. You inch backward as he makes his way over to the computers. All the screens shut off. You can barely see him in the dim light. 

He works he jaw, like he wants to tell you something but can’t. 

Despite your heart going a mile a minute, you don’t want to be scared of Miguel. The only friend you had here. You bite your lip, gaining all the courage you could. 

“Did you lie to me?” It was a stupid question. Of course Miguel would say no. He wouldn’t do this to you. He couldn’t. 

His eyes slice into you. Crimson. 

“Yes,” he says simply, “I did.” 

You weren’t expecting that. You couldn’t have. Your mind was whirling, desperately trying to piece together an explanation. 

The tears burned in your eyes. You forced yourself to keep them at bay. 

“Why?” It was barely a whisper, you weren’t sure if he had heard you. 

He rakes his hand through his hair. It was something he did when he was stressed. You’d once jokingly told him that if he kept doing that he’d go bald. 

You had joked with this man. 

“I was going to put you back,” He said, almost like he was pleading to you. As if you were his judge, his executioner, and not his helpless prisoner. 

“That was the plan. I was going to put you back but...” He sucks in a breath. He gives a laugh with no real mirth. 

“But then I realized how much safer you’d be here.” 

You didn’t understand. You take another step back. He follows. 

“Your dimension opened back up two weeks ago.” You’d been stuck here for three. “Communication has resumed like normal. I lied about that.” 

It felt like a sick prank. Like he would suddenly start laughing, telling you how gullible you were. 

But it feels even worse when he doesn’t do that. He just stares, almost like he feels sorry for you. 

You don’t want his pity. 

“You haven’t met your dimension’s spiderman, have you?” He suddenly asks. “He’s a good kid. But that’s all he is. Just a kid. Thinks everything comes easy. His fate is worse than most.” 

“His recklessness causes a bomb to detonate. 126 people die.” His gaze is stiff on your figure. 

“Including you.” 

You freeze, staring at him, unable to move. The word of your death still lingered in the air. 

“I told myself I’d send you back,” he continues staring into the dark screens, “But you were so sweet and you made me feel so-” He cuts himself off with a huff. 

“I always have to make the right decision. Every time.” He finally says, looking back at you. 

“Just for once, I wanted to be selfish.” 

“Miguel-” 

“I won’t.” He interrupts. “I’ll keep you here. I’ll keep you safe. I always keep things that belong to me safe.” 

You don’t like how he phrased that. You don’t like anything about this. This didn’t sound like your Miguel. 

Or did you even know him? Was the weeks of kindness all an act? A ploy to keep you satisfied?

Look how wonderfully that worked? You walked right into his trap like a stupid butterfly, struggling in the sticky webs. 

“You said it yourself,” you whisper, “I’m an anomaly. I can’t-I can’t stay in a dimension that isn’t mine. I could cause rifts-or-or even worse disasters.”

You try to throw his words back at him, hoping it’d knock some sense into him. He just gives a hum at your attempts. 

“Not if you stay here,” he replies, “Not if I keep you contained. Keep you here.” 

You shake your head, stepping back. This felt like a nightmare. The tears were falling in full force, down your quivering chin as you stare at him. 

“You-you can’t do that,” You mutter, backing up against the wall as he makes his way towards you, “You can’t do that.”

He crowds you against him, hushing you as he bundles you up to his chest, stroking your hair. He’s so warm. His scent of woodland mountains is so strong. He suffocates you. You hadn’t realized it until just now. 

“I know you don’t understand.” Miguel replies, sounding so genuine. It makes you sick. “But you will. One day. One day you’ll thank me for saving you.” 

Saving you. This wasn’t saving you. This was keeping you. This was killing you. 

“I want to go home.” Your voice breaks, cracks under the weight of his confession. “Miguel please. I-I need to go home.” 

For the first time, he smiles. A sincere smile. 

A condescending smile. Like you’ve said something adorably naïve. 

“Mi amor.” He purrs, affectionately kissing your cheek. 

“You are home.” 

[wonderingpanda]

He Likes Me

Rise!Donnie x Gn!Reader

This isn’t a request or part of anything bigger, just a happy oneshot to brighten your mood. Enjoy!

It was saturday which meant that April and Y/n were able to spend the day at the lair with their favourite turtle brothers. Donnie had been tinkering with some new gadget whatcha-ma-who, Mikey was reading through a new cookbook April brought him, Leo and Raph were caught up in a competitive video game while April and Y/n found themselves wrapped up in their phones. As for Splinter you may ask? He had some “important errands to run” whatever that meant.

Something that caught Aprils eye though was the focused expression on Y/n’s face and the consistent scrolling on their phone. Something was up.

“You ok Y/n?” She turned to face them. Y/n paused what they were doing and quickly tried to cover up the truth.

“Uh yep! Totally fine, there’s nothing going on at least not with me at the moment.” They flashed a bright toothy smile that couldn’t have seemed more fake, prompting Mikey to speak up from his book.

“Hmm I’m no expert, well maybe I am, but you don’t seem fine.” Leo looked over his shoulder towards the conversation.

“You can tell us if something’s bothering you.” Suddenly a loud crashing noise came from the game as Raph held his arms up in victory.

“Ha, yes! Suck it Leo!”

“Wha- no!” Leo dramatically called out after turning back to the screen. Donnie sighed and rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Dumb dumbs.” He muttered under his breath before looking over at Y/n.

“Look Y/n, we know you and you know us and knowing you there’s definitely something wrong so I highly recommend telling us what it is before Mikey and April try to force it out of you.”

“Mikey and April aren’t going to-“ Y/n cut themself off seeing the demonic looks on April and Mikey’s faces directed at them.

“Okay, okay I’ll come clean!” They shouted. “I have… *sigh* a date.”

“A date?” April looked at them.

“A date!?” Mikey, Leo and Raph all simultaneously spoke.

“A date…” Donnie reluctantly spoke out, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over him. No that wasn’t quite it, perhaps animosity?

“Oh ho Y/n pulling all the guys, or girls o-or- who are you going out with exactly?” Leo asked.

“Just some guy from school, his name’s Melvin.” Y/n explained. “He’s sweet and I think he really likes me.”

“But do you like him?” Mikey questioned, leaning in close towards them. Almost like an interrogation.

“Well yeah, I mean why else would I go out with him?”

“Hmmm.” Mikey stroked his chin consciously. “Fair point.” He backed away to a more comfortable distance.

“I’m just kind of nervous since it’s my first ever date and I don’t exactly want to make a bad impression.” April perked up at Y/n’s words and quickly grabbed their hand.

“Well if it’s help you need, then it’s help you’ll get. Bye boys we’ll be back in an hour!” April cheered and pulled Y/n off to her house. The brothers sat staring silently at where April and Y/n had been seconds ago.

“Uh, bye.” Raph spoke to no one now that they were gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At April’s house, Y/n was trying on different outfits while they talked.

“Look Y/n, I’m happy you got this date and all but I’m confused, I thought you liked Donnie?” Y/n hesitated as they came out in their next outfit of choice.

“I… I do but I’ve decided that it might be time to move on.”

“Move on!?” This sent April into an internal panic. She knew Donnie liked Y/n and Y/n liked Donnie. If they moved on then the two might miss out on what could have been something incredible for both of them. Not to mention Donnie would be heartbroken!

“Yeah.” Y/n continued. “It’s just that I’ve liked him for years now. Since we were what, eight? And he hasn’t shown any signs of liking me back, at least none that I’ve noticed.”

“Well you never know, maybe he’s just worried that you won’t feel the same way about him.” April suggested in hopes of sending Y/n some hints.

“Maybe. But I just can’t help but feel as though I’m hanging on to something that’s never going to happen. That if I keep holding on to it I’ll continue miss out on other opportunities. I want to be able to have something with someone and I have to accept that that someone might not be Donnie.” Y/n sadly explained. Truthfully, they didn’t want to let their feelings for Donnie go but it was the healthy thing to do.

“That’s really mature of you Y/n.” April smiled sadly. She might not have wanted Y/n to let Donnie go however she couldn’t help but be proud of her younger friend.

“On a more positive note, what do we think of this? I was kind of going for casual but pretty and well done.” Y/n turned to show off different angles of the outfit to April.

“Girl you look gorgeous; anyone would grateful to get to see you tonight.” April hyped them up and the two excitedly hugged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the lair things weren’t going as great. Leo, Raph and Mikey knew of their brother’s long term feelings for Y/n and were struggling to find an appropriate way to console him.

“H-hey think about it this way, if it goes badly then you’ll be able to get closer to Y/n by comforting them.” Leo suggested, immediately receiving a smack on the back of his head from Raph.

“Leo are you suggesting I take advantage of Y/n’s emotional state and manipulate them into liking me by providing a source of comfort purely for my own personal gain?” Donnie frowned.

“Uh yes?” Leo hesitantly confirmed.

“Oh for the love of science, I’m looking for advice here Leo. I want to be supportive not narcissistic and callous!” Mikey quickly pushed Leo to the side in a futile attempt to save what little chance they had left of helping their brother.

“Don’t worry D. Look, everyone deals with all sorts of emotions from time to time and jealousy is an extremely common-“

“I’m not jealous.” Donnie cut Mikey off. The younger turtle sighed.

“Right. Well if you want to be able to be supportive of Y/n and not feel any resentment towards their arrangement then it might be time to… let those feelings go.” All three brothers exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how Donnie would react.

“You know what.” He spoke up. “You’re right, you are absolutely right. This has gone on for far too long and it’s time I moved on.”

“Wait seriously?” Raph raised an eyebrow at Donnie’s response. Unbelieving that he would be accepting so quickly.

“Yes seriously. From now on my feelings for Y/n are no more and nothing is going to change that.” Donnie turned around in pride only for his heart to stop at the sight. April and Y/n had finally returned and boy did Y/n look ever so gorgeous. “Sweet Galileo.” He whispered as his pupils shrunk.

“Hey boys we’re back!” April cheered as she and Y/n walked closer.

“Looking good Y/n.” Leo called out.

“You’re gonna own tonight.” Mikey cheered.

“And if he even thinks of laying a hand on you! Just call us, we’ll take care of it no problem.” Raph smiled brightly to cover up his protectiveness.

“Aww you guys are too kind. We do have to leave soon, again, but we just wanted to pop down to get a final verdict on the outfit. It seems you three like it, Donnie?” He turned to face Y/n who was now looking over in his direction. “What do you think?” He looked at them for a moment in contemplation before sighing and smiling warmly.

“You look… absolutely stunning. He’s a really lucky guy.” Y/n returned his look with a genuine smile.

“Thanks that means a lot coming from you.” They smiled bashfully at the ground, their cheeks turning red. The moment was cut short when Y/n noticed the time on their watch and went back to stressing.

“Ooh well it looks like it’s time to head off; I’ll let you guys know how it goes. Shall we?” Y/n smiled at April.

“We shall.” April nodded her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bye Y/n! Make good choices!” April called out to Y/n who was now walking away with their date.

“I will!” Y/n smiled and laughed at Aprils enthusiasm. Melvin turned to face them.

“Your friend seems very eccentric.” He gave a toothy smile.

“She sure is.” Y/n agreed as the two walked away. Something odd caught April’s eye though. She noticed with the glint in his teeth how the boy looked almost like he had fangs. Her eyes quickly moved to examine Melvin once more before he disappeared from her vision and what she saw caused her to gasp in fear.

Under the boys large coat was the very end of a tail sticking out. Whatever he was, he certainly wasn’t human and the fact that he was hiding it couldn’t mean anything good.

She quickly dashed away, heading down the streets of NYC to find the nearest manhole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Boys, we have a problem!”

The turtle brothers looked over at April who had quickly run into the lair.

“And that would be?” Leo asked, looking around carelessly.

“I think Y/n’s date might be a mutant.”

“No!” Raph called out as the boys shrieked in fear.

“Or a Yōkai.” April continued.

“Gasp!” Donnie shouted as the brothers let out an even more panicked reaction.

“Or even some sort of alien-type monster!”

“Oh my god!” Mikey cried, holding his head in his hands as they all pulled the most horrified looks they possibly could.

“Wait, wait, wait. What makes you think he (Maaa, Mor, M-Melvin was it?) could be any of those things?” Leo asked prompting the others to look to April for an answer.

“He had a tail and fangs. He was also clearly trying to hide it and I don’t know about you guys but whenever someone’s trying to hide that they’re a non-human creature I don’t usually take it as a good sign.”

Mikey frowned for a moment before looking back at April.

“But Y/n was so excited about this date. We can’t just go and ruin it now.”

“Yeah, I mean, and besides what if you’re wrong and the guy’s perfectly normal?” Raph had a good point, it was entirely possible this person wanted to cause no harm.

“Well if you guys don’t believe me then come see for yourselves. We won’t interrupt them, just take a good look at the guy because I am positive there is no way he’s human.” April suggested, she hoped they would agree because at this stage she couldn’t take on a whole mutant by herself even with Y/n’s assistance.

“If what you’re proposing is true, and I’m not saying it is, then I suppose it makes sense to go and check it out.” Donnie agreed, of course he did. Truthfully he was just taking this as an excuse to see how the two were going. How much Y/n liked him, if he was treating them right, how close they had gotten.

April sighed with relief that they had all agreed. She knew it was unlikely but somewhere deep down she hoped this guy wasn’t a threat. Hopefully, somehow, maybe Raph was right and he was totally harmless… hopefully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As for Y/n, they were blissfully unawhere of any danger and were currently enjoying their romantic night.

“So do you have any hobbies?” They asked in hopes of getting to know more about Melvin.

“Oh nothing much, mainly artistry and a bit of sport. I was actually enlisted by this club to go and recruit new members for them.”

“Oh that sounds cool.” Y/n perked up. They didn’t want to give the impression they were overly interested but were curious about this ‘club’ nonetheless.

“Yeah it’s like a fighting arena type thing.” The guy went on. “It wasn’t easy but I guess they saw potential in me.”

“I guess they did.” Y/n smiled. They then looked around noticing how their surroundings had drastically changed from the rows of grey concrete buildings to a beautiful lush green park “This is my favourite part of the city! How did you know?”

“Lucky guess?” Melvin smiled and shrugged causing Y/n to laugh cheerfully and pull him along.

“Come on, let’s go!”

Unknown by the two teens, behind them were April and the turtles huddled tightly in a bush to discreetly watch them.

“Ugh I can’t see!” Leo whined in a hushed voice while trying to push Raph to the side.

“Then look harder. Don’t try to push me out, you’ll blow our cover!” Raph whispered back. Leo kept shoving around and pushed Donnie causing his goggles to fall on his head.

“Now I can’t see! What’s going on? Are they talking, have they kissed?”

“SHUT UP DONNIE!” The other four yelled before quickly hiding back in the bush in hopes they hadn’t made their presence known.

“Did you hear something?” Y/n asked, curiously turning around to see where the noise had come from.

“I didn’t hear anything” Melvin shrugged, his smile taking on an unnerving tone.

In the bush, Leo was still bickering with Raph. April was shoving Donnie to the side as he was being pushed into her by the force of Raph and Leo’s back-and-forth shoves. Poor Mikey was stuck nervously at the edge of the bush, watching Y/n and Melvin talk as he struggled to avoid exposing himself.

“Can you two please stop, that it is very annoying!” Donnie complained to his fighting brothers. Soon enough he managed to get enough space to move his goggles efficiently. He began to lift them up back to the designated spot on top of his head.

“Finally I can see what’s going on and- wait!” He stopped when he saw something curious as they passed over his eyes. He properly positioned them so he could see through them and began to inspect the scene in front of them.

“Uh guys, April may have been right.”

The two brothers stopped fighting and Mikey sighed in relief as he was one toe away from falling out.

“What are you talking about?” Raph asked.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of checking sooner but this Melvin guy is radiating a lot of mystic energy.” Donnie spoke as he adjusted his goggles.

“Ha! I told you all!” April cheered and pointed at the brothers in victory. “Wait…” she then came to the realisation. “That’s not good, Y/n’s in danger! Code red, code red!”

“We don’t even have a code red!” Leo pointed out, exasperated.

“Ooh this is bad, what are we gonna do!?” Mikey panicked.

“What do you mean, ‘what are we gonna do’? I’ll tell you what we’re going to do, we’re going to go out there and kick some mystic butt!” Raph punched the palm of his hand. April and the three younger brothers all nodded their heads in sync.

Y/n and Melvin continued to walk around in the same spot for a while, still asking each other different questions.

“Uh what kind of friends do you have?” Melvin asked in an overly cheery tone.

“Well I’m fairly close with my best friend April and I have these four friends who I’ve known for quite sometime now.” Y/n answered blindly.

“Wow, they sound interesting. Tell me more about these friends.”

“Ok?” Y/n agreed in a questioning matter. “They’re brothers and each kind of have their own thing which is one of the things I really like about them. The oldest is super tough and strong, the youngest is an amazing chef and incredibly cheerful, the second oldest is very flamboyant and his slightly younger brother, who we call his twin but isn’t actually his twin, is the smarts of the group.”

“Exciting!” Melvin commented. They must make great fighters.”

“Yeah…” Y/n trailed off. “Wait how did you make that connection?”

Melvin began to darkly chuckle. “You know I really didn’t expect it to be this easy.”

Y/n started slowly backing away. “Mel you’re kinda freaking me out here.”

“I mean capturing four superpowered mutants, now how was I meant to do that?” He smiled.

“Mutants!? Melvin what are you talking abou-“

“But then it hit me. I didn’t have to capture them, I only needed to capture you.”

Y/n quickly turned to run away but it was too late. Melvin had transformed into a beastly lizard yōkai and grabbed them before they could get away.

“Ugh no, help!” They tried to reach their phone but their arms were pressed tightly up against their sides. Just as they were ready to attempt an escape four figures jumped from behind a bush and landed infront of the towering Melvin.

“Let her go you scaly monster!” Raph demanded.

“Yeah, or else we’ll have to go full Lou Jitsu on you!” Mikey shouted while getting into a fighting pose.

“How dare you captured our beautiful beloved friend and mess with their feelings!” Donnie stated, preparing his tech-bō for battle.

“Is your name even Melvin!?” Leo pointed an accusatory finger towards him.

“Actually no, feel free to call me Nivlem!”

“Nivlem. Your real name is just your fake name flipped around?” Leo challenged.

“Uh yeah, what’s wrong with that?” Melvin asked.

“I don’t know it just seems a little basic.” He shrugged.

“W-well what are your other villains called? You know what, never mind I’ll just change it to something cooler like… The Destructor!”

“Mmm no.” Leo shook his head.

“Ooh I know!” Mikey pitched in. “How about… The Destructinator!”

“Now that is a cool villain name!” Leo smiled.

“Whatever, you guys are losers! Now, I’ll make this nice and easy for you; turn yourselves into Big Mama or else I’ll crush the bones of your friend till there’s nothing left to break.” The Destructinator threatened, squeezing Y/n tightly enough to cause them discomfort but not enough to severely injure them yet.

The brothers stood still in silent fear for their friend. If they were to so much as make a move to fight then Y/n would be crushed but turning themselves into Big Mama wasn’t exactly an ideal option either.

Y/n managed to squeeze themself out of The Destructinator’s grip just enough to cough out a sentence. “So let me guess, that fight club you recruit for is actually the Battle Nexus?”

“Uh yeah, I figured that would be obvious by now.” He replied, squeezing Y/n back into place much to the panic of the four turtles. Their face-off was soon broken when a loud yell came from behind and April smacked The Destructinator harshly in the side of the head with her bat. He stumbled and dropped Y/n who was thankfully caught by Donnie in the nick of time.

“Thanks Donnie, thought I was goner there for a second.” They looked up at Donnie causing him to blush and avoid their gaze.

“Well it was nothing, just making sure my friend doesn’t turn into a pancake.” He let them down as they turned back to April who ran up to give them a hug.

“Oh thank goodness you’re ok. When that guy comes to his senses I’m going to smack the life out of him!” She announce while fiercely tapping her bat into the palm of her hand.

“Thanks April.” Y/n smiled. “Wait what were you guys doing here anyway I thought you were all back at the lair!?” They asked.

“Well yeah about that you see-“ Leo began with the intent of covering up with a lie.

“April said she saw something weird about your date so we followed you here and watched you two to see if he was dangerous!” Mikey blurted out.

“So you stalked me?” Y/n questioned.

“Uh yeah. But only with good intentions.” Raph replied.

“And it worked out cause if we hadn’t you’d most likely be a prisoner of Big Mama.” April defended to try and make out the situation in a positive light.

“Don’t worry I’m not mad, just be glad you were right or else I’d be livid.” Y/n reassured them.

The Destructinator began to finally wake up and rubbed the side of his head April had hit.

“Ouch, that really hurt!” He took note that Y/n was with the turtles safely and growled. “Fine, if you won’t turn yourselves in then I’ll do it for you.”

The Destructinator then charged forward and smashed his fist on the ground, separating the group. April, now on the ground with her hands supporting her weight, gripped her bat and stood up with a fire in her eyes.

“Oh that’s it!” She took the opportunity while his hand was on the ground to run up his arm. April attempted to swing her bat at his head again but was stopped by his other hand and thrown against a tree.

“Hey Destructinator!” Mikey wrapped the chain of his kusari-fundo around The Destructinator’s wrist. “Take this!” He attempted to pull him down but was instead thrown into the air and fell smack on the ground. “Ouchie.”

Leo decided to antagonise the lizard yōkai by running behind him and cheerfully calling.

“Yoo hoo, Destructinator!” The Destructinator turned around and rapidly began throwing punches all of which Leo dodged in a glamorous manner. It was when he chose to close his eyes and start bragging “Ha! Can’t touch Neon Leon.” that The Destructinator was able to land a punch and send him flying.

He turned around and spotted Y/n, picking them up once more as they struggled against his grip.

“I warned you, now time to suffer the consequences sequences.” He prepared to crush them to bits until Donnie shouted.

“Hey, hands off you overgrown lacertilia!” He held his tech-bō sturdily as a giant missile formed at the back. He ran forward and smashed it directly in The Destructinator’s face causing him to wobble backwards.

Y/n notified hid grip loosen and freed herself, sliding down the lizard and running off to Donnie’s side.

Once it stopped hurting The Destructinator took his hand off his face and stared down at Donnie in rage.

“Why you little-“

“Hey!” Raph yelled out, directing The Destructinator’s attention to him. “Pick on someone your own size!” He then used his powers to form his bigger body which towered over the lizard. “Or a little bigger.” He smirked and lifted up The Destructinator with both of his hands, yelled “Hot Soup!” before slamming him into the ground.

The Destructinator began coughing and clearing dust out of his eyes till he noticed Y/n standing off bedside some trees.

Upon noticing his stare they ran and he quickly stood, taking chase.

“Hey, get back here!”

What he didn’t see was Y/n smiling and looking back at him before passing another tree. As he went to do the same, April jumped out and smacked him in the face with her bat.

He held his head in pain before being twisted around by Mikey’s kusari-fundo and spun around again when being quickly released.

As The Destructinator teetered on one foot in his dizzy state; Leo opened a portal beside him and pushed him in, leaning over the edge while the yōkai fell to yell out.

“Tell Big Mama we said hi!”

He stood back and finally closed the portal causing everyone to cheer.

Donnie looked towards Y/n and quickly ran to them, holding their shoulders.

“Are you ok, did he hurt you badly?”

“I’m fine Donnie.” They placed their hands on his shoulders in return. He quickly hugged them tightly which caught Y/n off guard as he isn’t known for being a hugger. But instead of questioning it they embraced the hug and enjoyed it while it lasted.

Sadly that wasn’t very long as the others began gathering around them. The two separated and April swung an arm around Y/n’s shoulders.

“From now on I’m interrogating all your dates.”

“Haha.” Y/n let out a dry laugh. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope!” April smiled and everyone burst into laughter as they began walking home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day ended with Y/n in Donnie’s lab, leaning on the back of a chair while scrolling on their phone as he carefully worked on repairing a broken piece of equipment.

“I’m sorry about your date Y/n.”

“It’s fine. Besides I’m not really counting this one since it sucked and didn’t actually end up being a date at all.”

He looked over to them relaxing and felt a wave of concern at how peaceful they were, perhaps they were in denial?

“Apologies for my skepticism but you seem rather happy for someone who was nearly killed by a mutant lizard pretending to be their date.” He fully turned his chair in their direction this time, giving them his full attention.

“Well I guess maybe it’s because I didn’t actually like Melvin that much, or The Destructinator I suppose.” They looked up from their phone in deep thought.

“So if you didn’t really like him then why agree to go out with him?”

“Desperation maybe? I think a part of me just felt a bit crushed and was looking for something to hide my feelings.”

“Your feelings?” Donnie questioned, wanting to push further on the conversation.

“It’s nothing just a guy, a different one, one I actually do like but I don’t think he likes me back.” Y/n cringed, scrunching up into a smaller ball as they reflected on the situation.

“And who might this other guy be?” Donnie frowned, feeling like the weight in his chest had just been replaced by a heavier one.

“He’s a very special person, I’ve known him for a while now and liked him for the best part of I don’t know how many years.” They looked at the roof to try and recall how long it had been.

“Oh.” He replied, heart sinking further into the ground.

“He has a funny personality and can be so smart but so dumb at the same time. April thinks he likes me but I’m still set on the fact that he doesn’t and probably never will.”

As Donnie kept putting the pieces together he gathered an idea in his mind. Someone smart and stupid whom Y/n had known for a long time and also had affiliations with April. He gasped.

“Leo!?”

“No it’s not Leo!” Y/n quickly shouted back.

“Is it Mikey!?”

“No Donnie it’s not any of your brothers!”

“Well then who else have you known for so long!?”

Y/n stopped for a moment, unsure how to proceed. They were tempted to tell him the truth, just get it over and done with, rip the Band-Aid off. But what would it mean for their friendship? What consequences would telling him bring? They made their choice and with a shaky breath quietly replied.

“You.”

Donnie’s heart stopped for a moment before he came to his senses. They liked him. They actually liked him! This mysterious guy he was planning on hunting down was him! He didn’t know that to do, dance, laugh, cry? Without thinking he shoved his chair forwards and pulled Y/n into a kiss. Their foreheads touched as the two leant in closer, both still in equal shock.

“Why would you think I don’t like you?” Donnie asked as he pulled away.

“I don’t know.” Y/n answered blankly. “Do you like me?”

“Yes you dumb dumb!” He laughed and the two kissed once more. Unfortunately for them it was cut short by the sound of a camera snapping. They looked towards the entrance only to see Leo’s head sticking out behind his phone.

“Oooh Pops is gonna looove this!” He cackled and ran away, waving his phone in the air.

“I’ll be right back.” Donnie frowned as he grabbed some gun-looking device off his bench and took chase screaming.

“Leo!”

Y/n laughed, watching him l run off, with their head leaning on one hand. As they smiled distractedly one thought filled their mind ‘He likes me!’

That’s all. Not much to say here but hope you enjoyed reading and have an amazing day/night wherever you are!✨

[dissapointu]

what about reader comes home with an entirely different hair colour (for arcane characters) 💛💛

This is such a fun idea! This is how each character would react if the reader came home with a completely new hair color:

————————————————————————

Jinx

Jinx would flip when she sees you walk through the door with a new hair color. She’d be so hyper about it, her eyes wide with excitement as she zooms over to inspect your hair, her mind racing with a thousand chaotic thoughts.

“What is this?! This is amazing!!” Jinx would say, bouncing around you in circles. “You look like a whole new person, and I love it! What do we call this color? I need it for one of my bombs!”

She’d spend the next few hours trying to match your new hair color to all her gadgets, constantly admiring you with a gleeful grin. “I’m jealous! Look at you! This is gonna drive everyone crazy!”

Vi

Vi would blink in surprise when she first sees you, not sure if she’s seeing things. She’d run a hand through her own hair and chuckle, making her way toward you.

“Whoa, that’s… bold. I like it though. You look good, real good,” she’d say, stepping closer to get a better look. “Makes you look even fiercer. But, uh, how’s the new color feel? You feel different?”

Vi would be all about how confident you are in your new look. She might even ask if she can try it out for fun next time, because she’s feeling inspired by your boldness.

Sevika

Sevika would give you a slow, assessing look when you walk in. She wouldn’t be the type to show too much excitement, but there’s a clear flicker of approval in her eyes.

“You always look good,” she’d say, her voice low but full of admiration. “But I’ll admit, that’s a bit unexpected. I like it. Definitely makes a statement.”

Sevika would then casually run a hand through her own hair and add, “Just make sure you don’t draw too much attention. People might get the wrong idea.” But underneath that protective edge, she’d secretly love how you stand out.

Silco

Silco is all about control, so when he sees your new hair, his first instinct is to process the change. He might pause, his gaze scanning you with that sharp, intense focus. After a beat, he’d give you a small, approving nod.

“Bold choice,” he’d say, his tone smooth. “I do enjoy someone who isn’t afraid to stand out.”

He’d approach you, placing a hand on your shoulder, and murmur, “Just make sure it doesn’t draw unnecessary attention. But with you… I trust it’s all part of your plan.” Silco would be fascinated by how much confidence you exude with your new look.

Vander

Vander would blink a couple of times, surprised by the drastic change. But after a few moments, his face would break into a soft smile, his heart swelling with pride.

“You’re always beautiful, no matter the color,” he’d say gently, stepping closer to admire you. “But I’ve gotta admit, this is a change I wasn’t expecting. Looks like you’re embracing your individuality.”

Vander would reach out and brush a strand of your new hair behind your ear, clearly fond of how you embrace your own unique style.

Ekko

Ekko would be caught off guard at first, eyes widening when he sees you walk in with an entirely different hair color. Then he’d break into an awed smile, his usual cool demeanor slipping for a second.

“Whoa, you look like you just stepped out of a dream!” he’d exclaim, stepping closer to you. “Seriously, how’d you pull that off? You look amazing!”

Ekko would spend the next few minutes asking you about the process and maybe even trying to figure out how he could pull off a new look too. “I gotta admit, you look even more like a legend now. How do you keep doing this?”

Jayce

Jayce might not be overly emotional about it at first, but the moment he sees your new hair color, his eyes brighten with admiration.

“That’s… different. But in a good way!” Jayce would say, his voice full of genuine curiosity. “You pull it off really well. Makes you stand out even more. You were already striking, but now?”

He’d take a step closer, maybe even run a hand through your hair, and add, “Definitely suits you. You’re always full of surprises.”

Viktor

Viktor would tilt his head in curiosity when he first sees you, clearly intrigued by the change. He’s used to seeing things in a different light, so this new look would be something that fascinates him.

“An interesting choice, but you wear it well,” Viktor would say, adjusting his glasses. “It suits your personality—bold, unconventional… yet undeniably you.”

Viktor would be a bit shy about touching your hair, but he’d eventually run his fingers through it, intrigued by the softness and the new feel. “I’d love to study how you’re able to make such a striking change with ease. You’ve always been captivating.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would smile warmly when she sees you with your new hair color. She would love how bold you are in expressing yourself, and she’d find herself admiring you even more.

“I think it looks perfect on you,” she’d say, reaching out to touch a strand of your hair. “It’s not the color that makes you stunning, it’s your confidence. But this color? It just adds to your already unique beauty.”

Caitlyn would definitely want to show you off to others, completely unafraid of how people might stare. She’d be proud to be with someone so brave and unapologetically themselves.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be intrigued and impressed by your new look. She values elegance and power, and she can immediately see how this new hair color is a reflection of your strength.

“It suits you,” she’d say, her voice cool but sincere. “It’s a striking choice. I must admit, I didn’t expect this from you, but it works.”

Mel would be the type to get up close, fingers gently brushing through your hair as she admires the way it complements your features. “No matter what color it is, you will always stand out. That’s one thing I admire about you.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would take one look at you and nod with approval, clearly impressed by your boldness. She doesn’t show much surprise but is clearly fond of how you’re unafraid to push boundaries.

“You’ve got a way of making any change look like it’s meant to be,” Ambessa would say, crossing her arms and surveying you with a calculated gaze. “I see the power in this choice. It suits you.”

She’d be less overtly affectionate, but she’d definitely respect the confidence you exude with your new look. Ambessa would also see it as another sign of your strength.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would gasp in delight when she first sees you, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “That’s… it’s so you!” she’d say, grinning as she walks over to you. “It’s like you were made for this color.”

She’d give you a big hug, absolutely thrilled about your bold choice. “Honestly, I couldn’t imagine you with anything else now! You look amazing!”

Maddie would be the type to gush over your hair, constantly asking to touch it and comment on how perfect it looks on you. She’s just so in awe of your confidence and beauty.

Lest

Lest wouldn’t be the type to make a big deal out of it, but she’d immediately notice the change and give you a slow, appreciative nod.

“You’re a woman of mystery, aren’t you?” Lest would smirk, her tone playful. “It suits you. I like how you make everything look effortless.”

She’d get up close, lightly brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. “No matter what you do, you always manage to catch my attention. You look even more stunning now.”

[bitchyycapricorn]

Sticky

MCU!Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 2.4K

Synopsis: Peter Parker loves to play with fun gadgets he finds around the Stark tower. Especially when it comes from an alien space ship. Which is exactly how you end up completely pressed to the ceiling of Peters room without knowing when you’ll come down.

Warnings: Smut!! Oral (f receiving), P in V, language, probably disappointing Mr. Stark

AN: lightly edited

Peter bursts through his bedroom door at the speed of light. “Y/N! Y/N!” Peter shouts, his eyes scanning his room for any signs of life. You peak your head out from under the covers, a small smile forming on your tired face.

“Hey Peter,” you mumble sleepily, snuggling your head into Peter’s pillow. “You’re home from Stark Towers already?” You hum groggily.

Peter shuffles over to his bed, plopping down next to your curled-up figure. “Mr. Stark helped me design new web shooters and-and I wanted to show you them,” Peter beams. A soft smile spreads across your face as you watch Peter shuffle around inside the black bag he brought home.

“Ah, damnit.” Peter mumbles pulling out some sort of gun filled with lava pink liquid. “I brought home the wrong bag. This is the anti gravity stick gun.” Peter frowns.

Your eyes shoot open wide, the aspect of an anti gravity sticky gun intriguing you. “Did you say anti gravity? Your smile widens as you sit up fully to take a look at the gun in Peter’s hand.

“Yeah, but we can’t you know…use it.” Peter laughs as he goes to put the gun back in the bag. Your hand is quick to stop his, wrestling the gun out of his grip. “Y/N/N, no, we can’t,” Peter pleas with you. “If Mr. Stark find out he’ll have my suit!” His words mean nothing to you in this moment, you’re too busy examining the cool piece of alien tech that Peter “accidentally” brought home.

“There’s no way you ‘accidentally’ brought this home, you were totally messing around with Tony’s gadgets again weren’t you!” A smirk tugs at your lips as you continue to examine the bright pink liquid.

Peter groans, throwing himself back on the bed. “Okay! So I got sticky fingers and was messing with some of Mr. Stark’s stuff. But I really did accidentally bring it home! I had two identical bags, one with the anti-gravity gun and the other with my webshooter upgrades. Bruce just walked into the lab and I got scared and threw the gun back into the bag and without thinking took off with the wrong bag…” Peter babbles.

“Wicked,” you grin, pointing the gun at Peter. “So if I shoot you with this…”

“No no, I shot a flowerpot to the ceiling and it was still stuck up there when I left, I was playing with the gun for over an hour.” He replies sternly.

You let out a small laugh “Oh, so I’m definitely sticking your sticky ass to the ceiling.” You’re still pointing the gun at Peter when he goes to take it back from you. As you wrestle for the gun, a beam of light shoots out of it and the next thing you know you’re on Peter’s ceiling.

“Y/N!” Peter squeaks. Your whole body is pressed up into the ceiling, limbs completely frozen. Arms and legs both slightly spread out. “Um, shit what do we do?” Peter looks at the gun again as if there will be directions written on the outside explaining how to reverse the effects.

“I feel like I’m not even allowed to be mad,’ You let out a laugh, looking down at a panicking Peter. “This is actually really cool, I feel so firm.”

“Y/N, this is not the time to be messing around, we need to get you down.” Peter’s face is pale and sweaty as he examines your body being pressed against his ceiling by some weird alien magic. His eyes wander from how silly your hair looks fluffing out, down to how nice your figure looks, completely trapped and unable to move. Peter tries pushing the thought away, hating his sudden urge to crawl up on the ceiling with you and experience what its like to make you scream while you’re stuck. That’s when it hits him, “I’m coming up with you, I’ll see if I can pry you off the ceiling okay?”

You scrunch your face up at his words, not liking that he’s making you come down already. “Come on Peter, this is so cool. See if you can move my limbs into different positions first.” Peter disappears from your view for a moment before he’s hovering… below you?

“Why do you insist on making things difficult by messing around?”

“Because.” You state simply. Peter rolls his eyes, gently tugging at your arm. Your arm easily swings forward before quickly being pulled back to the ceiling. “Whoa, do that again it felt weird. I feel like my whole body is ten times more sensitive right now.”

Peter pulls your arm again, it comes forward before reattaching to the ceiling, his mind racing from your words. He can’t help but wonder if your whole body is more sensitive. “We need to get you down now.” He urges, knowing that if you’re up here any longer he won’t be able to help himself. It was always a fantasy of his to fuck you on the ceiling, or high up on a wall. He just never trusted himself enough to go through with it. But now that you were already up here, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to start fucking you senseless.

“Peter, earth to Peter Parker,” you coo, trying to get your boyfriends attention.

Peter blinks, refocusing his gaze onto yours, “sorry, sorry I was just thinking.” His face flushes red as he begins to crawl down to your legs.

“You couldn’t have been normal and gone around my body? You had to crawl over me didn’t you?” You ask, watching has Peter’s body hovers over yours on his way down to try and unstick your feet permanently. “Your dick is in my face, and it’s hard.” You mumble, a blush spreading across your face now.

“S-shit sorry!” Peter tries to move out of your face by backing up, only to find he’s made it worse by dropping his hips too low and smacking you in the face with his boner.

Your body begins to shake with laughter, “Ow, I just got a face full of sweatpants dick.”

Peter freezes, hoping down from the ceiling completely. “I don’t think I’m getting you down.” He admits, his face was a brighter red than before as he looks up at you.

You let out a small hum, looking down at your embarrassed boyfriend. “Well, you got any ideas how we can pass the time?”

“I won’t admit anything.” Peter replies, quickly adverting his gaze.

“That made absolutely no sense dork, do you have any ideas or not?”

“None that I’m willing to admit.” He continues to avoid your gaze, focusing only on the closet door.

“You should come up here and fuck me then,” you tease, eyeing his still obvious boner.

Peter’s face goes pale, looking up at you again. “Does the gun give you the ability to read minds too?”

A laugh erupts from your chest a you goto shake your head ‘no,’ only to realize you can’t. “No Peter, I can’t read minds but I can read the message your massive boner sent me while it was in my face.”

“That’s not funny, you scared me. I thought you could tell what I was thinking and that you’d start yelling at me for thinking about how good your boobs look in such a dire situation.” Peter pauses, realizing he just admitted exactly what he didn’t want you to know. “Never mind, don’t listen to me ever again.”

“You think my boobs look good?” You beam.

“Stop.” Peter warns, feeling his blush return.

“Oh my god Parker, just get up here and fuck me.” You groan. Peter hesitates for a moment before giving you a small nod and jumping up onto the ceiling. He starts at your legs, repositioning them so your feet are pressing against the ceiling while your knees are bent. Once he’s got you properly repositioned, you feel him crawling between your legs. “Peter…what are you doing?” You can feel his hands grabbing onto your pajama shorts.

“Fucking you, like you asked so kindly.” A smirk settles on Peters face as he rips your pajama shorts down the middle seam, watching as they fall off your body and to the ground.

“Peter!” You cry, looking down at your now torn shorts.

“Well I had to get them off you!” Peter defends, slowly ripping your underwear off you as well. You let out a gasp as the cool air hits your heat, feeling your whole body flush under Peters warm touch, “Tank-top is next.” He smirks, tearing open the fabric to reveal your bare chest. The cold air washes over your, making you shiver as much as the magic would let you. Peter grabs your wrists, guiding your arms so they’re pinned above your head. “Is this what you want pretty girl?” He hums against your neck. His lips slowly leaving a trail of kisses down your body.

You let out a sharp moan “Y-yes,” his lips causing you to completely forget about your torn cloths on the ground. He continues to kiss down your neck until he reaches your tits. His right hand gently creasing the swell of your breast making you let out another moan. Leaning down, Peter brought your hard nipple into his mouth. Another moan escapes your lips as you fight to press your chest into Peters face, but with no success. You’re completely stuck, unable to move. Peter smirks against your boob at the attempt, continuing to swirl his tongue around your extremely sensitive nipple. “Fuck Peter,” you groan, wanting more than anything to run your fingers through his soft brown curls. Peter switches over to your other tit, giving the other nipple some attention as well.

The room fills with your soft moans as Peter kisses his way down your body and to your hot cunt. He pulls away for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before dragging his bottom lip down your thigh and back to your aching cunt. His head dips between your legs as you feel his tongue slowly slipping between your folds. The tip of his tongue makes contact with your clit, gently swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to let out a throaty moan. Peter’s arms slide around your thighs, pulling your body closer ever so slightly as he continues to eat you out. His face buried in your soft cunt, lick and sucking on your swollen clit.

A knot begins to form in your stomach within a few seconds and your realize just how sensitive your body really feels. The feeling of Peters mouth pleasuring you makes your body a shaking mess against the ceiling. Your limbs feel like they’re on fire as pleasure courses through your whole body. Pressing your head against the ceiling as hard as you could, you feel your orgasm wash over you. A sharp cry escapes your lips, your whole body convulsing from your release.

Peter slowly comes up from your cunt, a smile plastered on his face. “I see someone enjoyed that a little too much.” He teases, placing a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small groan in response, your whole body still pulsating. You keep your eyes on Peter as he begins to strip from his sweatpants and white T-shirt. His abs flexing as he miraculously manages to strip while still on the ceiling.

“Look at my sticky boy,” you giggle as you admire the way the light makes his abs appear to glow.

Peter grins, crawling over, well under, your body and positioning his hips between your thighs. “I’m about to make you real sticky.” You raise your eyebrow at his comment, noticing the cheeky grin on his face. “You ready?” He asks, his hand slipping between your bodies to position himself.

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling Peter slides into you slowly. The sensation of Peter thrusting up into you is completely foreign and completely surreal. Your body bounces ever so slightly up against the ceiling and you feel as though you could fall at any moment.

Yet, your body stays put, allowing for Peter’s hips to snap up into yours. His thrusts are sloppy and deep, feeling out your new position. A sigh escapes your lips as Peter leans up to kiss along your neck.

“How does this feel baby?” He whispers softly in your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine, all of your muscles contracting at the hot breath on your ear and neck. “It feels so good Peter,” you moan softly, desperately wishing you could wrap your arms around his neck. Peter gives you a warm smile, kissing your cheek as his pace speeds up. His thrusts becoming more even and deep, fucking you straight up and into the cold ceiling.

“Wanna see a trick?”

“Trick?” You laugh, watching as Peter detaches his hands from the ceiling, leaving him on just his knees. He looks up at you with a smirk, gripping onto your thighs as he continues to fuck you at an inhuman speed. His nails digging into your soft skin as he hangs upside down thrusting into you.

You close your eyes, letting out a string of moans, loving the way he feels deep inside of you. “Fuck Peter, I’m close again.” You felt like you were on fire, your whole body overly sensitive to Peter’s touch and rough thrusts.

“Do it then” Peter grunts, his cock sliding in and out of you even harder. You push your head up into the ceiling, mouth falling open as another wave of intense pleasure hits you, throwing you completely over the edge. A scream escapes your lips followed by Peters name as you come down from your high.

Peter lets out a deep moan, throwing his body back up so his hands were once again sticking to the wall. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you, thrusting deeper and deeper before pulling out quickly. Hot spurts of cum shooting out and falling back down onto Peter’s stomach and chest.

“Fucking gravity,” Peter groans.

You burst out laughing at Peter’s scrunched up face. “I told you that you were my sticky boy.” You tease. Peter grumbles something under his breath and you let out another laugh.

Your eyes widen only seconds later when you notice you suddenly feel heavier than normal. Your body detaches from the ceiling sending both you and Peter tumbling down onto his bed. “Great now I’m sticky too,” you groan.

Peter smirks, “Told you I’d get you sticky.”

+++

TAGLIST

[deviouz]

. . . jason todd and villain!reader !!

jason todd who opts to neutralize villain!reader himself rather than turning you in to the authorities because each time he does, you slip through the cracks of a crumbling justice system just to wreck havoc on the city the next night.

“you just don’t know how to stop, do you? can’t learn a lesson? fine. i’ll just have to teach you myself.”

jason todd who decides to back villain!reader to a corner, all of her gadgets and fancy tech smashed to hell in the dingy room of an abandoned building. he looks bigger than you’d imagine at this close of proximity, head tipped down to no doubt glare you down from behind that stoic, vermillion mask of his.

it’s pointless to even try fighting back. the red hood wasn’t someone you wanted to have up close and personal — and, unfortunately for you, he was close enough for the faint smell of his cologne to flood your senses.

“you’ve left me with no choice, really. it’s almost like you wanted to get caught by me. again. god, do you even sleep?”

jason todd who forces your front to the wall, face uncomfortably pressed into the aged brick wall. he has your arms twisted behind his back, wrists caught in one of his hands, while his knee slots between your leather-clad thighs. the smirk he wore was almost audible. the sound of your curses and empty-threats began to echo throughout the room, but that all came to a sudden halt when a rough hand grabbed at your hips and began to force you back and forth against his thigh. those venom-laced words transformed to quiet, breathy moans and feather-light gasps.

if you had your knife, you would have plunged it in him the second the faux coos started.

“that’s it. if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.”

jason todd who makes you work for a sweet release. why would he let gotham’s newest villainess off so easily, especially after the hell you’ve been putting him through? no, you have to work for it. he’ll deny release after release, whispering a plethora of filthy, degrading words into your ear until you finally give in.

“fuck, you’re soaked. dripping cunt’s got my suit all dirty,” jason almost laughs at the pitiful moan that rips through your chest, “we can do this all night, sweetheart.”

and when you finally give in, sobbing and hiccup because you just can’t take another denial in fear of losing your mind, he’ll allow you to use his thigh however you see fit. of course, all of that mindless grinding and high pitched moans of pure ecstasy are sure to be made fun of. you’re that desperate to get off on your supposed enemy’s thigh? really?

jason todd who grins when you slump to the ground, thighs pressed tightly together as you pant, body quivering. you’re an absolute mess, and he’s finally got you right where he wants you. pliant and obedient.

“c’mon, you don’t seriously think that’s all i had planned, right?”

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)

_________

Y/N’s POV:

Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.

I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple exception to an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.

Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.

“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.

“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.

Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.

“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.

“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.

“Why’d you make a pie?”

“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.

“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.

“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”

Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.

“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”

He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.

“Sorry.”

“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”

“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”

He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.

“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.

“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.

His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.

“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”

“I think slightly may be an understatement.”

“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.

Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.

“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.

“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”

I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.

“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”

She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.

“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”

Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.

“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.

“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”

Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.

“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.

I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.

“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”

"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.

___________

Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions mostly strictly about us, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.

They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.

So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.

An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reggie, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.

In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.

“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”

“You should ask Charlotte about that! She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”

“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."

I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.

“Speaking of baking skills,” Reggie nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”

I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.

“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.

“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.

I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.

“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.

Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.

“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”

I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.

I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.

Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.

“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.

“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.

My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.

Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.

“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reggie’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reg? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip bone.

“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reggie answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.

I instantly found Bucky’s hand tightening, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reggie.

Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reggie stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.

“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”

“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.

In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…

_______________

Bucky’s POV:

I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.

Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.

“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.

“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.

“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.

“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.

I had been making compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.

“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.

“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.

I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”

She didn’t answer for quite a few seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.

“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.

Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.

“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.

“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.

“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”

“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.

“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.

She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.

“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because of my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”

I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.

“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”

The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.

“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…

“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... " 

"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.

“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.

I-

It’s a lot to take in…

She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.

“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”

Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.

On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.

She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."

“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.

I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.

“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”

I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.

Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.

She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.

I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim @lovelybaka @heletsmelovehim @bubblegumbeautyqueen @mostlymarvelgirl @that-d-bitch @rabbitrabbit12321

[striveattemptfail]

Minor Differences | Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson, 1.9k, PG-13

@poolvertober: Day 20 – Pop Culture

Summary: Five times Logan learns something new about the timeline he's in (and one time it was for the better). Inspired by this post by @nichknack. Rated for language. Takes place some time after the movie's events; just assume Logan and Wade are back-up X-Men. More gen than slash but we all know the truth ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Read on Ao3

A/N: Once again, I'm taking today's prompt fast and loose so forgive me in advance 😅🙏 Un-beta'd but quite frankly it's a miracle I even finished on time lmao. Can you believe this was originally supposed to be ~600 words? (ノ_<、)

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The first time Logan notices that his new timeline isn’t identical to his old one, it’s over a subtle name change.

He’s reading the Saturday paper in the living room, Wade watching some reality show on the seat next to him with Mary Puppins in his lap, when Althea leaves her room and shuffles into the kitchen.

“Alexa,” she calls out, “what time is it?”

A robotic voice replies, “The time is 5:43pm.”

Logan drops the newspaper from obscuring his face. He immediately finds the source of the reply on the coffee table: a grey, cylindrical device that looks like a mini speaker, control buttons on its side. It blinks a turquoise light around the rim until the light turns off with a muted beep at the extended silence.

“What the fuck?” he wonders out loud, surprised to see such a familiar gadget.

“Have you not interacted with an Echo before, peanut?” Wade asks. “Did you not have Bezos’ army of listening devices where you’re from?”

Althea barks out a hollow laugh. “You keep calling the damn thing a spy machine—”

“Because I don’t trust it!”

“—but you keep it right there anyway.” She scoffs, making her way to the fridge. “Fuckin’ hypocrite.”

“Well, it’s also convenient!” Wade argues. “Do you miss when I used to shoot the lights off?”

“What the fuck?” Logan says again, but for a completely different reason this time.

“Listen,” Wade starts, and from his tone Logan can tell some bullshit is about to leave his mouth, “sometimes a guy just wants to pass out after walking in at ass o’clock in the morning without having to get up when he forgets to deal with the lights!”

“So you shot the damn lights out?” Logan guesses. “Is that why all the light switch panels are just exposed? Because you shot the fuckin’ plates off?”

“Alexa, tell peanut to stop bullying me!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know that command,” the device says. “Would you like to—”

“Alexa, shut up.”

The cylinder goes quiet with a beep.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” Wade says before Logan gets a chance to berate him more. “Did your world not have Echos?”

“We did,” he admits, “but they were called Alexis.”

“Like Texas!” Wade shoots him a wink before chuckling to himself.

(Presumably to himself, because Logan has no clue what the fuck he’s talking about, as usual.)

Before either of them can elaborate, Althea yells from where she’s bent over in front of the open fridge, “Wade, did you put the fucking milk carton back empty again?!”

Their attention quickly shifts from there.

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The next time Logan notices, it’s over something equally innocuous.

He and Wade hate talking to the authorities when they finish a mission, but none of the X-Men who are way better suited to dealing with humans made it in time to stop their target. He and Wade finished the job before those asscracks even left the X-Mansion, which meant the two of them had to deal with the aftermath until someone more qualified arrived.

“I’ll play you for it!” Wade finally suggests after five whole minutes of arguing over who should talk to the police chief.

He sticks his hands out, a fist over a flat palm. Logan rolls his eyes but dutifully mimics the gesture.

“After three, okay?” Wade clarifies. “No cheating!”

“Let’s just get this the fuck over with.”

Wade nods once.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” he counts as Logan simultaneously chimes, “Paper, scissors, rock, bang!”

They don’t even look to see who won. Instead, they mirror each other’s expression: one of total confusion.

“Mr. Deadpool? Mr. Wolverine?” a voice calls behind them—Logan recognizes it as one of the younger detectives Wade was speaking to earlier. “We need one of you now, please.”

He and Wade finally both look at their hands.

Fuck.

“Ha ha, sucker!” Wades hollers, his rock crushing Logan’s scissors. He only grunts in response when Wade quite literally skips away after slapping Logan on the ass. Logan turns around with a flat expression and follows the detective to where the police chief is giving a statement to some reporter.

Whatever. The sooner this is done the sooner he and Wade can go home.

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Another time it happens, Logan’s not even sure if he even remembers the reference correctly.

He and Wade are at the X-Mansion for another mission, catching up with Ellie and Yukio inside the Blackbird jet while Colossus to grabs more a few more people. Logan’s not quite paying attention to the conversation’s details, more enamoured by the strange friendship the two girls have with Wade.

At some point, Ellie says something that makes Yukio giggle and shove her shoulder, causing Wade to cackle out, “Weird flex, but okay!”

Logan furrows his brows but doesn’t comment because Wade’s already pivoted the topic to something else.

He could swear that the saying was odd flex, but very well. If he actively recalls the kids from his old universe, that was what they used to say, right?

(Most days, he usually tries his best to not remember them. The pain may not be fresh anymore but it still hurts all the same. He’ll never be able to hear Kitty, or Jubilee, or Rogue, or Bobby cracking jokes he doesn’t understand but finds amusing nonetheless. Never again.)

Apparently, he’s still deep in thought by the time Laura walks up to him. Her face looks remarkably similar to one he sees on himself all the time—brows pinched, eyes narrowed, lips turned downward. At least on Laura the expression looks like a cute pout compared to Logan’s usual, unimpressed glare.

“What’s wrong?” She looks to the other three still caught up in their conversation, not paying Logan any mind. “Did they say something?”

Logan shakes his head. There’s no point in dwelling over the kids’ memes from his old life. He’s poked at those memories like an old bruise more than enough now.

“Nah,” he says, mostly telling the truth, “just remembered something.”

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He finally catches on by the following incident.

A song has been driving Logan fucking crazy for the past four hours. The goddamn earworm simply refuses to get out of his head, even with Wade’s incessant rambling at his phone in the background. What he’s blabbing about right this moment, Logan has no clue, because lyrics are on loop in his brain and he can’t hear anything above it.

Time for a replay session, he supposes, taking a seat in the living room. Hopefully making his ears bleed from the melody on constant repeat will finally get it out of his head.

“Hey, bub, can you play that ‘Vegas glowing’ song by Handsome Delight on the Alexis?” he interjects in the middle of Wade’s rant.

Wade furrows his hairless brow-line. “Come again? This time in my ear? Also, it’s still just Alexa.”

“You know,” Logan says, followed by a vague hum. “You walk in over time / ‘Cause we both know you’re mine / Fallin’ straight, don’t look down / Las Vegas glowin’ on the town,” he sings, hoping he has the correct lyrics. “That one?”

“One: Excellent singing, honey badger! Do you practice scales when I’m not listening? Because that voice is—” Wade cuts off to do a chef’s kiss with his fingers. “Two: Nope! Still no clue what that song is.”

“Stop fuckin’ with me, Wade.” Logan grunts, remembering how annoyingly often the song was playing on the radio when he was bar hopping earlier this year. Wade listens to pop music almost exclusively—there’s no way he would’ve escaped this song. “It was in the Top 40s for months. You had to have heard of this.”

Wade just blinks at him. “I really, truly have not.”

“Wait,” he pauses in realization, “does Handsome Delight not exist here?”

“Never heard of them!” Wade confirms, shaking his head and starts typing away on his phone. “Aaaaand Google here only pulls up a very adorable cake when I search that name.” He shows his screen to Logan, who grumbles in frustration after squinting at the results.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Why? What’s up, buttercup?”

“Shit. The damn song’s stuck in my head but I only know that stupid part.” He groans at himself, throwing his head back onto the couch, miffed that he can’t scratch the song’s itch like he thought. “I was hoping I could put it on repeat so I’d finally get it out of my system.”

“Sorry, peanut!” Wade pats his shoulder. “If it helps though, I can sing anything you want to rid you of the earworm plaguing you! I’ll be your personal jukebox!”

His answer is automatic. “I’d rather chop my ears off.”

Wade, obviously, starts singing anyway.

“You are! My fiiiire—”

Logan promptly sticks a claw into each ear. He might have pushed a little too far and nicked his brain a bit on both sides, which is just fine because the injury causes him to briefly pass out, a good solution as any at this point.

The last thing he sees is Wade’s comically dismayed face.

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Logan accepts that this universe is just weirdly different after one more incident.

He and Wade made it home too goddamn late last night after finishing a job that took way too fucking long, which meant they both pass out for a solid eight hours and wake up well past noon for their first meal of the day. Althea had already left to do her own business (Logan never asks her what she’s up to, and he’s probably better for it) and took along Mary Puppins, so it’s just him and Wade in the kitchen.

Wade’s already sitting at the table, digging into something from a silvery packet when Logan shuffles by.

“Mornin’, peanut.”

“Hrm.”

“Figured I’d get some real food later, but I’m too damn tired right now, so, y’know—” he lifts up what Logan finally sees is a Pop-Tart, “—Pop-Tarts.”

Logan assesses that he is also too damn tired to actually cook himself a meal, but also too hungry to ignore his appetite. He combs through the cupboards with a quiet hum until he can kick his ass to get some real food. He eventually decides to follow Wade’s lead to eat something now and order more food later, going to the cabinet and bypassing Wade’s stock of sugary children’s cereal for the Special K.

“Not digging into the Raisin Bran, old man?” Wade teases.

“I may be old,” he tosses right back, “but I don’t need to act like it too.” He grabs the milk (a new carton because Althea chewed Wade out last time), a bowl, and a spoon, bumping the utensil drawer closed with his hip. Then, he makes his way to the kitchen table to sit across from Wade.

As always, he pours the milk first.

“Logan,” Wade says slowly, his eyes growing wide with what looks like concern, “why the fuck are you pouring the milk before the cereal?”

“Because that’s how you’re supposed to do it.” Logan shoots him a bewildered look because that’s how everyone does it? He’s pretty sure it’s common knowledge to pour the milk first so you get an even distribution of crunch. He’s adding the cereal in when he asks, “What the fuck are you on about?”

Wade’s horrified gaze flickers back and forth between Logan and his bowl. “That’s so fucking cursed.”

At this point, Logan doesn’t bother dignifying that with a response, digging into his bowl with a dismissive grunt and shake of his head. He very purposefully ignores the implication that people on this planet pour the cereal first.

Now that’s fucking cursed.

Logan may have been engineered to be a wild animal, but he’s not a goddamn savage.

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&1

Logan finds out that Dolly Parton is still alive on this planet.

He considers forgiving the cereal before milk bullshit just for that.

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(More notes on Ao3.)

[starrierknight]

𝟎𝟐𝟕. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝❟ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

You don’t work or play by the rules. So what if that’s unfair? This is a dog-eat-dog world, and the losers get left behind.

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 4.4k

Pairing— femme fatale!dom!gn!reader x CEO!sub!nanami

cws/tags— dub-con, blackmail (non-consensual filming), sadistic & manipulative reader, reader is gn but has the femme fatale personality, handjob, denied orgasm, very dialogue heavy, petnames (“mister”—it’s ironic, I swear), seduction, porn w/ plot, nanami is def ooc but we move

Stepping into Nanami Kento’s office, you were greeted by an aura of opulence. Mahogany desks and leather chairs exude sophistication. Sunlight filtered through expansive windows, casting a warm glow on plush carpets. A massive desk stood at the centre, impeccably organised with high-tech gadgets. Bookshelves held volumes on leadership and success. A cosy seating area boasted a plush sofa for informal discussions. Crystal decanters held aged spirits atop a sideboard. The atmosphere is both commanding and comfortable, a reflection of power and accomplishment, much like the CEO himself.

“You're late,” Nanami said, his voice monotone. 

His words slid out with the click-clack of his keyboard, his gaze fixed on the screen as he typed away. You stepped into the room, the gentle swish of your clothing brushing the air as you approached.

“I'm not late,” you responded, your voice a composed counterpoint to his. “You’re just early.”

The subtle rustle of paper on the desk danced beneath the weight of your words. A faint huff of a sigh escaped him, a sound as controlled as his meticulously timed schedule. Disciplined. Unflappable. A smile ghosted across Nanami's lips, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

“You're my personal assistant,” he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of authority, “and I'm the CEO, ergo, I am always on time.”

"My, my," you remarked playfully, "Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today."

You glided across the expanse of the office, the soft rustle of your steps harmonizing with the gentle fluttering of a neatly organised stack of colour-coded papers as you set them down in a tray. A wry smile tugged at his lips.

"You're well aware that my patience for idle chatter is limited, and yet you persist in indulging in it," his voice rippled, a controlled undertone of exasperation tracing each syllable.

A subtle sigh slipped from your lips, and you found yourself easing against the edge of his desk, a connection between you and the polished surface. His fingers danced across the keyboard, a symphony of clicks and clacks that held his full attention, leaving you in the periphery.

"Any luck in your pursuit of the elusive mole?" Your words held a touch of frustration, "It's as if the leaks are gaining a life of their own, more persistent with each passing day."

In response, Nanami emitted a contemplative hum, a low note that resonated like distant thunder. "No luck so far," he mused, his voice a steady rhythm. "I’m having the matter investigated."

“You keep saying that, but nothing’s changed. You’re no closer to finding them, are you?” you spoke with a hint of weariness.

"That's classified information," he responded absentmindedly, his attention still tethered to the computer.

A wisp of frustration danced through your tone, like a fleeting shadow cast by a cloud passing over the sun. “I’m your personal assistant. I work for this company. Don’t you think I should know?” 

"No," his response fell with the weight of finality, a single syllable that seemed to close the door on any further discussion. “Oh, and please rearrange my appointments and schedule them to be spread out over next week. Make sure they’re at quieter times,” Nanami's voice rolled out, a desert breeze carrying his words with a touch of dryness. 

His instructions hung in the air, like a solitary tumbleweed drifting through the vast expanse of conversation. Tense. Stiff.

“Right. Of course, I’ll handle that,” you said with a tight smile.

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As you stepped into Nanami's office once again, the day's familiarity seemed to have taken a toll on him. The air felt different, thick with a weariness that hung around him like a heavy shroud. Unlike his usual poised stance, he now slouched in his chair—an uncommon sight that hinted at the cracks beneath his composed exterior. His blazer lay discarded, and his tie now hung in a relaxed loop, an admission of defeat.

"Hey, mister?" your voice was a gentle note, carrying with it a touch of casual familiarity.

A low, almost exasperated groan rumbled from his throat. "I've reminded you before not to address me like that," he muttered, his response laced with a note of resigned annoyance.

Your lips curved into a playful smile as you ventured further into the office, a glimmer of mischief dancing in your eyes. "You know, deep down, you don't mind it."

A heavy sigh accompanied his response, a mixture of exasperation and resignation. "I assure you, I do indeed mind it."

Your retort danced through the air like, a sing-song lilt that brushed against his ears. "Oh, but I beg to differ. It's just one of those little things that make our interactions all the more interesting, mister."

A grumbled complaint slipped from his lips, a muttered protest that bore the weight of his vexation. Your soft laughter swirled in response, a ripple of amusement. Despite his discontent, there was a subtle warmth in the air, a familiarity that seemed to soften the edges of his irritation.

Taking purposeful steps, you approached his desk with an air of ease, your movements a graceful choreography as you began to tidy the scattered papers, pens, and stationery that lay strewn across its surface. You leaned your phone against a stack of folders, propping it up. The soft clinks and rustles of objects finding their proper places formed a familiar symphony of order being restored.

Seated now on the edge of his desk, your presence became the focal point of the room as you regarded him with a tilt of your head. Your gaze held a mixture of intrigue and amusement, a silent reminder that amidst the rigors of his role, a moment of reprieve was found in your interactions.

“You’re looking a little worse for wear. Is something the matter?”

Nanami’s response was a heavy exhalation that held a burden of weariness too profound to be carried by mere words.

"Another breach occurred not long ago," his words carried the weight of a confession, spoken with a tinge of resignation. His eyes remained closed, a refuge from the world's chaos that seemed to press upon him relentlessly. "This time, it's worse. The most sensitive data yet has been exposed to the public. PR is grappling with the fallout, and Finance is in utter disarray."

"And so soon after the last one," you murmured, the words gentle. “You look tired, mister. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

He rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers, a gesture of both fatigue and frustration, and at last, his eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Even from a distance, the telltale shadows under his eyes were evident, testimony to the toll his responsibilities had exacted.

"Don’t call me that," his voice emerged rough and worn. Exhausted.

Undeterred, your inquiry persisted, soft yet insistent. "So, tell me—have you been caring for yourself?"

A moment of stillness hung in the air, punctuated by the weight of unspoken thoughts. Then, his reply emerged, a sentence that bore the weight of conviction. "My primary duty is to safeguard the company."

A playful glint sparked in your eyes, and your expression shifted into a mockingly stern glare. You smoothly slid off the edge of the desk, your movements fluid and graceful, as you began a deliberate saunter towards his side of the desk. With each step, a subtle sway graced your hips, a movement that was both confident and teasing in nature. The air seemed to carry a touch of lightheartedness, a momentary diversion from the weight of the situation at hand.

A theatrical tsk escaped your lips, carrying with it a sense of exaggerated disappointment to playfully scold him. "Oh dear, dear mister. Letting yourself go to ruins is simply unacceptable. As your ever-watchful PA, I can't stand by and let you suffer."

With purposeful steps, you rounded the desk, your movements fluid and deliberate. The air seemed to hold a hint of anticipation, a quiet thrill woven into the atmosphere.

As you stood behind his chair, your hands found their way to his shoulders, their presence an assertion of care. Your touch was confident, fingers dancing with practiced skill as they worked to knead away the knots of tension that had taken residence in his muscles. He stiffened beneath your touch, a reflexive reaction to the unfamiliar sensation, yet your assurance seemed to melt the resistance away. While surprise lingered in the air, there was also a sense of yielding, a quiet acceptance of the relief you offered.

Nanami's words carried a note of reluctance, a protest against the unexpected intrusion of your care. "I didn't ask for this," his voice murmured, a touch of reservation threading through his words.

A knowing smile curved your lips, your fingers working with practiced ease as you continued to knead away the knots in his shoulders. "You didn't need to ask," you replied smoothly, your tone carrying a touch of reassurance that seemed to seep into the very air around you.

A brief silence settled between you, punctuated by the rhythm of your touch. Then his voice emerged once more, a murmur tinged with both realization and resignation. "You're my PA."

"And what does PA stand for?"

His reply held a touch of understanding, a recognition that seemed to settle the matter. "Personal assistant."

"Exactly," you whispered, “I’m your personal assistant.”

You let the silence hang in the air. Your hands continued their gentle ministrations, the cotton fabric of his shirt crinkling beneath your fingertips. As your fingers traversed the landscape of his shoulders, they encountered the subtle contours and defined edges of a physique sculpted by discipline.

Time seemed to melt, a river that flowed at its own unhurried pace. Slowly, the tension in him began to yield, a reluctant surrender that mirrored the reluctant acceptance in his posture. The weight of his responsibilities seemed to wane, at least momentarily, under the soothing spell of your touch.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, a melodic note that floated through the air as your hands continued their soothing dance. 

"You really ought to take better care of yourself, mister," your words held a touch of playful admonishment, a reminder woven with concern. "Your muscles are like a stone wall."

The response that came was curt, his voice carrying a note of irritation as he pushed back against your insistence. "I'm fine, and I've asked you not to address me that way."

"How many nights have you found yourself working overtime again?" Your question hung in the air like a gentle nudge, an invitation for him to acknowledge the reality of his situation.

A pause, and then his voice emerged, a touch gruff yet revealing of the underlying truth. "It doesn't matter."

A note of knowing crept into your voice, “Doesn’t matter? You hate working overtime.”

"I'm the CEO, and I must prioritize what's in the best interest of the company, regardless of the personal cost."

A contemplative hum escaped your lips as your skilled fingers traveled to his neck, where tension seemed to have found another stronghold. His reaction was a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, his gaze meeting yours with a furrowed brow and a hesitant parting of his lips that hinted at a forthcoming objection, yet it remained unspoken.

The soothing pressure of your fingers worked its magic, coaxing the knots to unravel beneath your touch. As you continued your massage, a question emerged from your lips, gentle yet probing. "So, if you don't take care of yourself, then who takes care of you?"

Nanami’s response held an air of stubborn independence, a declaration of self-sufficiency against the encroachment of care. "I'm an adult. I don't need anyone to look after me."

Your voice dipped to a murmur, a whisper that seemed to bridge the gap between you and him, and your warm breath brushed across the nape of his neck. "Who takes care of you?" you repeated, your words a gentle caress against his skin.

His response, however, was unwavering, a declaration that seemed to echo with an unyielding determination. "I take care of myself.”

A playful smirk curved your lips as your fingers wove through the strands of his sleek, blond hair, a gesture that seemed to stir a reaction deep within him. His breath caught in his throat, a shuddering exhale that betrayed the impact of your touch.

“Some things are better done by yourself… some things.”

You leaned in closer, your presence enveloping him as the back of Nanami’s head nestled against your chest. The warmth of your body radiated against his back as your skilled fingers continued their massage, now tracing delicate patterns across his scalp. Your nails grazed along the tender areas, setting off a cascade of sensations that seemed to quicken his breath. 

The combination of your sinuous touch and the implications woven into your words created a heady tension in the room. His heart responded with an erratic beat, a rhythm that threatened to betray the carefully impassive expression he wore. Yet, he remained composed, a façade of control in the face of the enticing distraction you presented.

“Is it hard?”

His breath hitched, and he coughed. “P-Pardon?”

You let out a soft, knowing laugh. Leaning closer, your lips brushed the delicate shell of his ear, your words a sultry whisper that set his skin ablaze. “Being CEO. Is it hard, Kento?” you murmured, uttering his name with a familiarity that had been absent for far too long.

It was as if a barrier had crumbled, a threshold crossed, and the effect was electrifying. The weight of his name on your lips seemed to hang in the air like a revelation. After a year of playful nicknames—of godforbidden “mister”—and dances around formality, this simple act held a weight of significance. Oh, his name had never sounded so sweet in his entire life.

With an effortful composure, he replied, his voice carrying a veneer of forced calmness. "It's perfectly within my control."

The sound of your voice, the proximity of your breath, seemed to amplify the tension in the room. He closed his eyes, as if seeking refuge from the turmoil that swirled within him, struggling to steady his breathing.

But your words, like a siren's song, continued their subtle seduction. "Stressed, Kento?" you purred, the name a velvet caress against his ear.

As your hands slid down, tracing the contours of his neck and finding their way to the concealed muscles beneath his shirt, his heart quickened its rhythm. A smile, hidden from his view, danced upon your lips, a sign of the satisfaction you derived from the effect you had on him. You pressed a kiss upon the sensitive skin just below one of his earlobes, a gesture that sent a shiver through him. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, the air electrified by an unspoken desire.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered.

“You want me to,” you murmured back, “And you want it badly.”

Your hands continued their exploratory journey, tracing a path of tantalizing sensation down his chest, each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. They ventured lower, gliding over the firm expanse of his abdomen, mapping the contours of his physique. 

As your fingers descended further, they encountered the defined muscles of his thighs, your touch igniting a web of sensations that seemed to pulse through his body. He remained still, his breathing now increasing, his body responding to the magnetic allure of your touch. The room pulsed with a charged energy, begging to be acknowledged.

His hands closed around your wrists, putting a halt to the tantalizing journey of your hands, but they didn't push you away. The tension in the room hung thick, a precarious balance between restraint and desire.

"This is a workplace," Kento protested, his voice carrying a note of caution.

A playful spark danced in your eyes as you retorted, your words dripping with a seductive undertone. "Who says this won’t be for work?"

With a tantalizing grace, you lowered your head and pressed your lips to his neck once more, trailing kisses along the warm, sensitive skin. Your tongue and teeth teased over the surface, each movement a deliberate exploration that sent a shiver of longing through him.

“Oh, c’mon. You know you want it. I can feel it—you sure as hell can. Why deny yourself the satisfaction?” you murmured into his ear.

You lightly bit his neck and he gasped, his heart skipping a beat, and his grip on your wrists faltered. You took the opportunity to slide your hands to his thighs again, caressing the inner and most sensitive parts. He made some noise of desire in the back of his throat, his breathing growing ragged.

A low, sultry chuckle accompanied your whispered words, the sound a velvet invitation that seemed to stir the air around you. 

"Don't be coy," you murmured into his ear, your voice a honey-like whisper that washed over him. "You want this as much as I do, Kento. I can feel it, and so can you. Why deny yourself the satisfaction?"

Your teeth grazed his neck lightly, a tantalizing nip that sent a shiver coursing through him. His grip on your wrists faltered, and you seized the opportunity, your hands slipping back to the sensitive terrain of his thighs. Your touch was delicate yet insistent, caressing the innermost and most sensitive parts. A guttural sound of desire escaped him, a primal expression of longing that mingled with his ragged breathing. The office walls seemed to close in around you, as if the world outside had ceased to exist, and it was just you and Kento’s desire.

A low, tormented groan escaped him as his eyes fell shut, his internal struggle evident in the furrow of his brow. “This is so wrong.”

Your voice was a velvet caress as you posed your question, a tempting proposition that seemed to hang in the air like a forbidden fruit. "Is pleasure so wrong, Kento?" you purred, "Don't you deserve this?"

Desire ignited like a blazing fire, consuming every trace of resistance that had remained. As your dominant hand found its way to the growing bulge concealed by the fabric of his trousers, he couldn't help but release a breathy groan. His hips, almost imperceptibly, moved in response, a subconscious plea for more. Desire coursed white-hot through him, pooling between his thighs.

His hoarse mumble was a plea, a desperate attempt to reassert control in the face of mounting desire. "You should stop," he rasped, his voice trembling with a mixture of longing and restraint.

Your laughter, low and seductive, rippled through the air, brushing against his ear and sending shivers cascading down his spine. 

"You don't want me to stop," you countered, your words a teasing assertion that seemed to strip away the last shreds of his resistance.

Kento's hands gripped the armrests of his chair with a desperate intensity, his knuckles whitening as he fought to maintain his grasp on composure in the face of overwhelming temptation.

Your words were a siren's call, a sultry enticement that seemed to draw him deeper into the vortex of desire. "C'mon now," you coaxed, your voice a velvet temptation, "You want me to touch you, to make a mess of you, to take care of you like no one else ever has."

With a confident touch, you rubbed the growing bulge between his thighs more firmly, causing his breath to hitch and a shuddering groan to escape his lips.

His voice emerged, a whisper of uncertainty and longing. "Y-You'll take care of me?"

You met his vulnerability with a promise that dripped with seductive allure. "Yes," you affirmed, your words a whispered caress, "Like no one else ever has."

Or will… You smirked.

As you unzipped the fly of his trousers and began to tug them down his strong thighs, Kento obediently lifted his hips to assist you in the tantalizing descent. The anticipation in the room was palpable, the air thick with desire.

The hard, throbbing length beneath the thin fabric of his boxers was damp along a certain path, evidence of his heightened arousal. Your finger pressed against the dampness, and Kento hissed sharply through his teeth. It was as if a current of electricity shot through every nerve in his body, pooling at the base of his spine, aching need pulsating within his throbbing cock.

With a tantalizingly deliberate movement, you pushed his boxers away, unveiling the long, aching length of his erection as it sprung free from its confinements. His breath caught in his throat at the sudden sensation of freedom and your touch.

One of your hands ventured down his body, seeking the source of his arousal, and you began to stroke him with a measured pace that balanced comfort and intensity. A deep, throaty moan escaped him, and he couldn't help but push his hips forward ever so slightly, a silent plea for more, tempered by the fear that you might pull away if he was too insistent.

His eyes remained shut, his body leaning into you as if seeking the reassuring pressure of your chest against his back. Every stroke of your hand sent waves of pleasure rippling through him, building an exquisite tension that threatened to tip him over the edge.

Your words dripped with wicked allure, a sultry taunt that sent shivers of desire racing through him. "You can't even deny how badly you need this," you cooed, a wicked smirk gracing your lips, your voice a seductive melody.

“Please…”

A guttural plea escaped him, his voice strained with longing as he groaned, his brow furrowing in desperation. Beads of perspiration formed on his skin, glistening in the office light.

Your touch was a maddening tease, the soft pad of your thumb tantalizingly swiping across the aching head of his cock. It was a taste of what you could do, a whisper of the pleasure you could elicit, the gentle pressure of your fingers a torment that electrified his sensitive length.

Kento's breathing grew more ragged, his body quivering with anticipation and desire. Every stroke of your thumb sent jolts of pleasure coursing through him, a tantalizing promise of the ecstasy that lay just beyond reach.

His hips bucked urgently into your hand, a desperate quest for the all-consuming release that eluded him. A guttural moan erupted from his lips, echoing through the room, and you silenced it with your free hand, your fingers pressed against his lips. In his ear, you whispered teasing, shushing sounds, a sensuous torment that only served to stoke the flames of his desire.

The tension in the room was palpable, a relentless crescendo of longing that seemed to spiral upward with each passing moment. His body quivered with anticipation, his heart raced, and he could feel the precipice of his orgasm looming ever closer.

"You know," you breathed, "I've waited a long time for this moment."

As if to emphasize your words, you slowed the pace of your hand, your touch a slow, torturous caress that seemed to drive him to the brink. He groaned in response, his head hanging low, his hips stubbornly seeking the pleasure that danced just beyond his reach. The room seemed to hum with desire. 

In the throes of ecstasy, just as the climax threatened to wash over him, you removed your hand with cruel precision, a disdainful gesture as you wiped it casually on the shoulder of his expensive shirt. Kento all but cried out at the sudden loss of sensation, his whole body shuddering in response.

He groaned in frustration, his eyes filled with pleading confusion as he looked at you, the desperate desire still flickering in their depths. The room seemed to hang in a suspended moment, a tableau of torment and longing that left him on the brink of fulfillment, yet denied the release he so craved.

Your laughter, low and sardonic, filled the room, a taunting echo that seemed to reverberate in the air. With a saunter, you circled around his chair, moving to his desk and retrieving your phone, which had been propped up against a stack of folders. The video on the screen was ended, freezing the moment of his desperate longing.

"Quite the performance, Kento," you taunted, your words a playful mockery that laced with satisfaction. 

The boundaries of the office had been breached, and the power dynamics had shifted in a way that left no room for doubt—you openly held the upper hand.

With a bold flourish, you lifted your phone high, turning the volume up to ensure every nuance of the recorded encounter could be heard. You skipped through selected sections of the video, each moment meticulously chosen to capture the essence of the temptation and desire that had unfolded within the confines of the office.

As the video played, the room seemed to resonate with the sounds of his seduction, his pleas, his moans—each intimate detail laid bare for him to witness. There was no avoiding it; the evidence was undeniable, and it hung in the air. 

His chest rose and fell with the turmoil of emotions, and a betrayed expression contorted his typically composed features. The question escaped his lips like a lament, a whispered plea for understanding: “Why?”

Your posture exuded an air of casual indifference as you leaned against his desk, a playful tilt to your head that underscored your enjoyment of his discomfort. His question seemed to hang in the air, unanswered, as you chose to focus on the task at hand.

"So, Kento," you murmured, your tone a seductive tease, "What should I leak next: more of the company's closely guarded data, or this scorching little video?" 

A mixture of disbelief and regret tainted his muttered words. "How... H-How could you?"

Your laughter was a sharp retort, a mocking response to his question. "How could I? Oh, Kento, you're so fucking naїve."

His gulp was audible, his voice barely above a whisper as he ventured, "How much is it you want, exactly? What's your price?"

A sly grin curled upon your lips as you leaned closer, your words dripping with seductive allure. "I want everything you can give me."

a/n: he (effectively) lost his job by getting a handjob LOL. poor guy. jokes, idc, this was written out of spite. Happy Kinktober :3

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

[e-nonsense]

Damian x older batsis. Just something fluffy about batsis being the older sister of the batfam, mainly focusing on Damian tho- she dotes on him and is kinda like his mother figure in a way. And when he gets into arguments with Bruce, she's the one he runs away to, to crash on her couch. She's also incredibly tech savy and inventive, so she often asks Damian to test her gagetry prototype's since everyone else is scared of them (they sometimes malfunction). She's more like Alfred's apprentice than Bruce’s. She prefers working "behind the screens." Also, her and Damian most definitely took the batmobile and batwing out on joy rides without permission🤭

“That’s bullshit, dad.” You scoffed, leaning back against the cold stony wall in the cave. Bruce sighed, pinching his nose between his index and thumb. He was used to this, he had been getting this lecture since he adopted Dick when you were 12. You’d always been motherly to your little brothers — a term Jason often huffed about, reminding you that he’s no longer a fifteen year old boy.

You became all of their protectors but it was different with Damian, something deeper, more connected. Dick assumed that it was because you and Damian were blood related but Alfred knew better.

“You can’t treat the kid like shit and expect him to be okay,” you added.

Right now Damian was in your car, an overnight bag packed for his stay at your house. Bruce wanted to smile at the fact that you drove all the way from Blüdhaven to get Damian and yell at him.

“You’re right,” Bruce says, making you pause and point a finger at him comically opening and closing your mouth as you think. Stunned into silence that he hadn’t tried arguing with you, Jason snickered in the background before Cass knocked him to the ground beating him again.

“He should spend the weekend with you, no suit, no cape. Just as a normal boy,” Bruce stands up, “I can’t give him that, his mother can’t, that’s why he comes to you.”

You merely nodded in response as Bruce patted your shoulder before turning back to his computer, you walked past Alfred who looked equally as stunned as you before chuckling and handing you a tub of freshly baked cookies.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, still somewhat shocked as you make your way up the stairs to the exit of the cave. You’re back outside the manor and sitting in the drivers seat of your car — your bike at home because you knew you’d be bringing damian to your place.

“okay, all set?” you ask, looking at the small boy in your front passenger seat. a bunch of his art supplies stuffed into you back seat and alfred the cat perched on top of it all, you snort amused by the sight, exiting the driveway when he nods.

the drive to your place is quiet, damian dozing off from time to time. “can i live with you?” he asks out of nowhere, green eyes focused on your reaction, you stop at the red light, sighing softly.

“i’m sorry dames, but we’ve talked about this.” you mutter, shooting him an apologetic look, “i’ll talk to bruce about it again.” you offer, he nods.

“i’d like that,” he mutters, arms crossed. you smile, “where would you go to school?” you ask, entertaining the idea. “we’ve got quite a few good ones in bludhaven.”

“which did you go to?” he asks.

“i went to a gotham school, but i did uni in bludhaven. somehow gotham and bludhaven have two of the best universities. no idea why that happened when they’re both shit holes.”

“agreed.”

the rest of the drive is quiet, your brother falling asleep for the rest of it. you chuckle as you park outside your flat, you and dick lived in the same building. it was a lot more convenient, and it eased his worry for you. you being a lawyer, with your little side hobby of building impressive gadgets.

dick was usually the first person to get ahold of the tech you made, and damian would be next in line. you’re careful as to not stir damian, though you know he’s probably already half awake as you lift him out of the car, carrying him into the elevator after you toss his duffel bag over your shoulder. alfred the cat following after the two of you.

he likes this, he thinks. being coddled like child — he is a child, you’re always quick to remind him. you lay him down on the spare bed in your extra room where your other siblings crash. he kicks his shoes off sleepily as you set the bag down in the corner of the room, alfred the cat jumping up onto the bed to sleep on top of damian.

you smile at the sight as you close his bedroom door.

your little brother deserves to be a kid, you’ll make sure his life isn’t spent like yours.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Food Analogy

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 3.3k TYPE: Humor, Bad Flirting (it's never been worse), Rivalry WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, tw Kaiser, tw Ness, tw Y/n 💀 NOTE: This is the Dog Walking origin story does anyone remember me hi?

Believe it or not, Isagi never took you for a nutcase. Can your words sometimes be a bit absurd in nature? Over the top, maybe? Yes, but the environment you’re in is easy to blame. Otherwise, you’re a respectable individual, if not aloof, always keeping a certain distance from everyone else.

This is all to say, there is no way Isagi could’ve anticipated the utter nightmare he is in the middle of right now. If there was, he would’ve ran away the moment he heard your footsteps approaching after Kaiser blocked his shot and gave him that shitty speech.

You seem to have witnessed the whole thing, and with Kaiser gone, you wrap an arm around Isagi’s shoulders. “Do you know what he said to you?”

“In German?” asks Isagi, confused. “No.”

“What’s so special about you that one of the New Gen World XI players is picking a fight with you, huh? Because it was the last goal? He didn’t even glance at me and I finished the course before you.” Your eyes narrow at him with easy, second-nature condescension. It’s the first time you’ve hurled such provocations his way. “You’re always hogging the spotlight, you know?”

Isagi huffs, annoyed by your attitude. “Try harder in the next match, then. I don’t know what you want me to do. I’ll devour you either way.”

“Stop telling people you’re gonna devour them, you cannibal. It’s so tasteless.” You click your tongue, bemused by his lack of style — no wonder you get along with Aryu — and then you gesture at Ness and Kaiser in the distance. “Look at him. He even has a servant. It’s not fair. I want someone to do my bidding!”

“Why are you acting so childish right now?”

You push him off of you like you weren’t the one who got so close to him in the first place, then stalk up to Kaiser and Ness with the confidence of someone on a mission. At this point, Isagi knows he should look away, and yet his attention is glued to whatever is about to ensue like he’s a spectator of a car crash.

Ness offers you a fake smile and reaches out to hand you the same translation gadget he’d given Isagi earlier, but, of course, because you’re insane, you decide the most appropriate course of action is to take out one of his and shove it in your ear. He blinks.

“You seem vulnerable and easy to boss around,” you say. Wow, what a first impression. Ness’s smile slips. “I’m looking for a henchman or a goon or something similar. Are you interested?” Then you address Kaiser. “That was a cute little show you put on for Isagi. For how long did you practice it?”

“It was improvised,” he lies.

“Sure it was.”

“Who the hell are you?” Kaiser shoos you away with a wave of his hand. “Third rate actor trying to intrude on my stage. Bo-ring.”

Isagi cannot discern if Kaiser doesn’t recognize you from the U-20 match for real or if he’s just pretending in order to insult you, but his best guess is that you’re going to make him… very aware of your identity after this.

___

This is, perhaps, the most insulting thing to ever happen to Isagi.

The field falls into a conclusive silence, everyone still lingering by whatever spot they’d been in during the game before it finished. Isagi knows he’s staring at you like a serial killer, eyes drilling holes into your side profile with utmost offense. The football-induced neurosis he usually gets lost in while playing is yet to wear off, which is probably why he’s taking this to heart.

Without a doubt, you were ahead of him at least in the final moment, despite failing to stand out for the rest of the match. You’d predicted he wouldn’t cave in and pass to Kaiser and got in range, jumping in between them out of nowhere, stealing what was supposed to be Kunigami’s goal.

Though what made your outplaying him so galling is that it was all a way of picking a fight with fucking Kaiser. Not even with him, but with Kaiser. His act of relenting — of not trying to score on his own because of concepts like rationality and recognizing limits — became an instrument in this stupid fight you’ve been picking.

Then Isagi watches you figuratively spit in Kaiser’s face because, of course, your obnoxious ass can’t just win and leave it at that. No, unnecessary amounts of gloating seem to be what you run on, and now you grab Kaiser by the chin and mock his introduction, “On your knees, Bastard München.”

This is the worst transgression of Kaiser’s life. You’ve addressed him like he is a dull, unnoteworthy part of a collective, not even bothering to say his name while sporting the shittiest sneer he has ever seen. He’s pissed, and all he can do is stare in confusion. Despite his long going career as an instigator, this response (to his general existence and demeanor) is still somehow unique and, worse, effective.

When you let go of him, you withdraw your fingers from his face like he’s dirty. You shrug, then raise your hands in the air in a victorious manner, and you look happier than Isagi has ever seen you before. “Ta da. All eyes on me.”

But the shitshow doesn’t appear to be anywhere near over because while everyone else is frozen, you’re approaching him now, unperturbed by the attention you’re receiving as if it’s your birthright. Like you were made for the spotlight.

“Isagi, didn’t you say you were going to ‘devour’ me?” you ask once you’re right in front of him, your exterior growing more complacent by the minute. “Didn’t you challenge me? Seems to me like I’m too big for you to chew.”

If nothing else, though, unbeknownst to himself, Isagi, too, is insane. He has unreasonable amounts of determination and loves when things get difficult just so he can chase the satisfaction of overcoming them, among his other eccentricities. “This was just one match. We’re one for one now. I’ll defeat all of-”

“What are you two doing?!” Ness asks through a tight, passive aggressive smile. You hadn’t noticed him closing in on you, too high on your own power trip. He grabs you both, one shoulder in each hand, and squeezes with a death grip. “Do you think this is your show? This is Kaiser’s team, not the figure-out-which-good-for-nothing-is-slightly-better team. Either behave and follow the rules, or face the consequences.”

“Good for nothing? Shut up, little midfielder, you’re too scared to stand on your own feet, so you have to degrade yourself as Kaiser’s boytoy instead. I guess his shadow is a comfortable spot to hide in with how enormous his head is,” Isagi says. His tone is so matter of fact, it leaves minimal room for argument.

“He’s good, though. I can see potential in him to be almost as good as Sae. I want you to pass to me, too, Ness. Right? You can emphasize my star qualities with yours, can’t you, Ness? I can shine on you. It’s fine by me.”

It’s like two predatory animals are staring him down, trying to gauge his taste through smell alone — you with your fake innocent, curious expression, and Isagi, who doesn’t seem to realize he spewed vitriolic insults with the nonchalance of a weather cast announcement.

For sure both of you would’ve gotten a broken ankle each the way Ness is gritting his teeth right now, but emerging out of his stupor, Kaiser intervenes. And when Kaiser speaks, he commands Ness’s full attention, rendering him speechless. He pushes Ness out of the way, deeming this a fitting way to insert himself in the conversation. Then he looks you in the eyes with a… smirk? Isagi was hoping his dolour would last a little longer. “I figured out what your role is.”

“I’m not interested in starring in movies made by incompetent directors.”

“You’re going to be my love interest,” declares Kaiser, not at all fazed by your dismissal. “I’m not that bad,” he continues, because naturally, nice people always have to declare themselves as such. “I can recognize when someone has skills. You’re my darling in distress, and I need to save you from the peasantry of Blue Lock, so your talent can flourish. That’s your role.”

You continue observing him with mild amusement like what he told you was normal. Meanwhile, Isagi is wondering if your stunt earlier gave Kaiser whiplash or vertigo or something. Maybe he went and snapped. Clearly, these aren’t words coming from a sound mind.

Even Ness, who at this point should to some degree expect Kaiser to be deranged, gasps. Whether at his audacity or lack of shame, it’s not clear.

“How unoriginal. Think of a better one.” You shoo him to decline the proposal. “Besides, you already know I’m more interested in your lapdog.”

“What?!” Ness calls out, now moving onto being offended. “Are you rejecting Kaiser? And you- me?! What?!”

Isagi’s entire face scrunches. Did this man seriously not even flinch after getting called a lapdog?

Apparently no longer finding this conversation a proper source of entertainment, you wave them off dismissively and walk away without sparing them a second glance. Isagi watches as Kaiser stares creepily at your retreating silhouette with this little infatuated(?) smile on his face.

What is this lunatic so happy about, anyway? Does he even realize he was the perpetrator of his own public humiliation ritual? Leave it to Kaiser not to understand that he embarrassed himself.

Ness runs after you, yelling objections, but at this point Isagi isn’t even listening. He doesn’t want to listen. Neither are you, if the way you’re picking your ear and not responding to him while ducking out of his way is anything to go by.

After everything cools down a little and everyone has scattered about, Bachira inches towards Isagi. Easy-going as ever, hands interlocked behind his head, he says, “You’re all psychos on your team, huh? Must be fun.”

Oh… Yes, Bachira witnessed all that… Everyone did. Isagi almost forgot. The vortex of the utter absurdity of this situation sucked him in for a second there.

___

Isagi doesn’t even bother removing his sweaty uniform before he approaches you, looking all determined. He can’t get it out of his head… Did you read him? Or was it a guess? You got there too fast, as if you foresaw what he was about to do before he even decided it. “How did you know I was going to pass to Kunigami?”

“Isagi, don’t ask me narrow-minded questions. We just had a match and I need to revitalize myself,” you tell him as if what you’re saying makes perfect sense. It’s like you make it a point to phrase everything in the oddest way possible.

“Narrow-minded? Could you stop being a pain in the ass and answer me?”

“Well, you weren’t about to pass to Kaiser, and you used to be buddies with the ginger. So, pray tell, where else could the ball go?”

Surely, it wasn’t as predictable as you’re making it out to be?

“You could’ve collided with them, lost your starter spot and cost us the game without even touching the ball. It wasn’t worth the risk.” Isagi isn’t really sure why he’s even saying this. It paid off for you, but he needs to understand the intricacies of all the ways his rivals are ahead of him just so he can overthrow them. You’re another mark on his football hit list.

“Since when are you so trifling? You’re losing me more and more by the minute here.”

“What are you even on about?”

“I’m a striker. I’m sublime. I score. And you’re asking me why I chose to score?”

Isagi tries to glean some hidden wisdom from this statement — there is none — but before he can at least offer a response, Yukimiya intrudes on your conversation by talking about something wholly irrelevant.

Yukimiya berates him. You fade into the background of this conflict, observing, while everyone else makes an attempt to de-escalate the argument. To make matters worse, Kaiser makes an obnoxious entrance and delivers a useless speech about how you all better follow him and blah, blah, blah.

“What a stupid thing to say,” you point out, taking a step forward as if to challenge him. Isagi doesn’t like that he has to bear witness to you and Kaiser making eye contact again. “We’re in Blue Lock. Would the world’s best settle for just surviving?”

“None of you will be the world’s best and I’m here to show you. By the way, I meant what I told you earlier. Don’t go fading into obscurity following the wrong king. I really can’t stand it when someone doesn’t know how to use their talent, and your talent would make a good accessory to mine.”

“The only king I obey is my desire.”

“You say that now, but I’ll get you in the end.”

“Did you walk in here half naked to try and seduce me? You jezebel…”

Isagi makes the wise decision to tune out the rest of your bickering with Kaiser for the sake of his ears and mental clarity. Still, he can tell there is something here which is evading him. If he can identify everyone’s priorities — Kaiser’s need to live out his emperor fantasy, and your hedonism, and Yukimiya’s dedication to his ideals — can he use this knowledge to his advantage and come out on top?

___

You’re fighting with Kaiser again. It’s not real fighting, though, is it? Isagi has become well-acquainted with all sorts of depravity since the beginning of his stay at Blue Lock — most often had been the victim of it, even — so he can recognize it with ease. Because of this, he pays you minimal attention during the unfortunate moment when he needs to waltz by.

But the next display of obscenity, he truly does not anticipate. He turns around the corner of the hallway on the way back to his room, and what does he realize he’s seeing? Ness peeking his head out from behind the corner to watch you go at it from a distance, that’s what. Why is he even doing this? He’s always doting on Kaiser, so it’s not like it’d be weird if he was there, up close and personal. He’s literally making it stranger than it needs to be.

“What are you doing?” Isagi blurts out, before he can think better of asking.

Ness startles. Apparently he’s been focusing so intensely on… observing you and Kaiser, he didn’t register someone passing by a few inches away from him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before eventually coming up with, “I, uh… Um, I- I… Uh.”

Isagi almost lets it go, but then Ness says,

“Everyone has their… interests and passions, so… You can’t judge me.”

“Wait, this is an interest and a passion to you?”

“Um, I, uh.” Ness’s face contorts into that reflexive creepy smile Isagi has come to expect of him. “Yes. Now go away, you’re interrupting me.” Oh no, he’s becoming confident in his… Whatever this is.

Isagi exits the vicinity with an unnecessary amount of caution. He can’t tell if the feeling of someone’s gaze burning his back is just paranoia on his part.

___

Today’s bullshit: another one of your arguments is unfolding, and this time, Isagi doesn’t have the choice to feign ignorance. You’re supposed to be splitting up in two for a practice match. Obviously this devolved into an inane dispute about who the biggest hotshot is. Isagi, holding the glorious title of ‘captain of Team B,’ tries to follow the plot of this whole thing. Mainly to figure out a way to make you and Kaiser shut up and get on with the game already because your voices now automatically register as a cacophony in his head.

“I’m not going on your team unless I get to be the captain,” you say. “And Ness passes to me.”

“I won’t play midfielder if you’re center forward!” Ness protests.

“Come on. We’d be a hit together. Stop pretending.”

“You’re putting yourself on quite the high pedestal there,” Kaiser says. “Is the altitude messing with your head? Don’t give yourself vertigo now.”

“If you died on the field, I’d do a penalty kick while standing on your corpse.”

Leave it to you to escalate things for the sake of getting a reaction out of Ness. He shakes you by the shoulders back and forth while yelling something unintelligible as Kaiser snickers, maybe finding this to be an amusing or god forbid romantic mental image.

Why are they acting like children? Isagi holds back an audible groan or perhaps an onslaught of derogatory words. He’s not sure how to solve this, though. You’ve been going in circles for a few minutes now, and Kaiser got mad when you said you’d be on Isagi’s team, and Isagi got mad when you tried to steal his aforementioned prestigious title, too.

The debate of who the superior striker is — objectively it’s Kaiser, but Isagi admires your dedication to your delusions in the face of Ness’s sectarian wrath — continues. Then, it happens. Something awful to honor your skills.

“What did you call it, Yoichi? Devouring?” asks Kaiser, before turning his attention back to you, sly smile on his annoying face and all. Then he puts his stupid hand over your loony head and pushes it aside, giving a good view of your neck. “I think in that case, I might want to take a bite out of you.”

What…

Oh my god, Isagi thinks, stomach churning, and truly, he might vomit. The state of affairs has never been more dire than this. No way that demented freak just did this without any shame?!

You open your dumb mouth, probably to respond with a snarky remark (which will inevitably somehow make this ten times more inappropriate). Isagi won’t stand for this.

Interrupting you before you’ve even begun speaking, he points an accusatory finger at Kaiser first. “You’re a pervert. Not only are you a pervert, but you’re doing it right in front of everyone. All the time! What’s wrong with you?”

He stares at Isagi incredulously. “What?”

Next, you enter the line of fire. “And you try to provoke him into doing things like this on purpose! Just so you can embarrass him! You’re a pervert in a much more pretentious and obnoxious way. You’re enjoying this!”

“What the fuck,” you blurt out. This is the first time he’s heard you sound defensive. “No, I’m not. We aren’t doing anything.”

“Yeah, we aren’t doing anything,” Kaiser agrees. “Fuck off, Yoichi.”

Isagi ignores these protests. They’re futile, anyway. He knows he’s right. Even if he isn’t, all of you deserve this slander in his opinion. For a moment, Ness makes the mistake of assuming he’s been spared, but, “You’re the worst, though. You like it when they fight over you. You have no self-respect.”

“Wh- What?! But I didn’t even do anything!”

“Yeah, that’s the thing, suck-off.” Isagi grabs him by the wrist and tugs him over to his side, apparently having decided this is the answer. “You’re going to be on my team.” Then he glances at the two of you, and that part of his brain which he tries to ignore when he’s not on the field sends a spark of joy and satisfaction coursing through his veins at the unadulterated indignation on your faces. “Deal with each other, yeah? Since you’re so inseparable.”

Noa tells everyone to hurry up, and the rest of the spectators mutter in agreement before Ness can even regain his senses and put up a fight. His eyes are wide and glossy, his jaw is hanging, and he is looking at Kaiser and then at you and then back at Kaiser with the sadness of a character in a Shakespearean play.

Kaiser looks like he is about to pop several blood vessels.

You huff, cross your arms, and pout. Why does Isagi always win?!

___

Thyere so embarrassing omfg im laugihing so hard