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joelslastofus · 2 days ago

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[SUMMARY: Tess’ jealousy reaches a new level when she finds out you might be pregnant.]

PART TWO

Angst

“The hell did you tell her?”

Tess stood silent and he knew right then and there…he knew she had told you about Sarah and scared you away.

It had been a little over a month since you and Joel had first gotten together, since then you both were inseparable. A few things had changed since Joel confessed his feeling for you although they weren’t exactly changes you hoped for. Tess was still around, silent but always obvious of her dislike towards you. Instead the changes involved a new task, a task that involved a young girl named Ellie. Marlene, whom Joel had known but didn’t seem to like had asked him to take Ellie to a group of firefly’s that would then take over where she needed to be taken to. The only reason he went along with it was because his last chance to get a working car fell through. Now Marlene promised him he’d have a working car to get to Jackson as long as he took Ellie where she was supposed to be.

One thing you noticed was Ellie seemed to be more gravitated to you than Tess, just another thing that pissed Tess off. Especially with seeing how Joel seemed to be getting closer to Ellie.

Ellie and you laughed together at certain jokes she would tell you, looking over you caught Joel trying to hold back a smile.

“You thought that was funny didnt you?” You teased walking beside them through the woods.

“Oh yeah, look at him, he could barely keep himself together” Ellie continued, poking fun at Joel. Tess rolled her eyes at the sound of the laughter, it’s like she hated hearing how well you all got along.

“Can we focus on where we’re goin’?” Tess called out over her shoulder without looking at any of you.

“Someone’s grumpy” Ellie whispered making you look down with a smile until it hit you again. The nausea you had been ignoring for the past week, the nausea that you’ve somehow managed to hide from everyone. At first you didn’t think anything of it but as the days went on, you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on. Keeping track of your period was pointless with it never being on schedule anyways, so you weren’t alarmed when it didn’t come the same time as the month before. But now you were starting to feel all these things you had read about, all these symptoms you remembered this pregnant woman Dolores spoke about feeling.

Joel and Ellie hadn’t noticed you stopped at first until he looked over to see you weren’t walking beside Ellie. Quickly turning around he found you a few feet behind leaning over on a tree. Ellie noticed Joel’s look of concern and turned herself to see the same thing.

“Hey-“ Joel called out to you making you quickly look up.

“Oh god” you whispered to yourself.

“I’m fine” you attempted to assure him but you should’ve known better, Joel was already quickly making his way to you.

“What’s wrong? You alright?” He spoke low.

You couldn’t speak in that moment, quickly nodding to assure him that you were fine until you looked up. He must’ve noticed something because the look on his face only seemed more concerned than he originally was.

“Here take some water” he passed you his bottle that you quickly took. As if your nausea couldn’t get any worse, Tess’ voice made your stomach turn.

“What’s the hold up?” She called out.

“Give us a minute” Joel responded as she loudly sucked her teeth.

“We don’t have a damn minute, it’s gonna get dark soon” Ellie looked back at how rude Tess was and raised her brows.

“She’s fine, keep walkin’” Tess stubbornly spoke. You nodded quickly handing Joel his bottle of water.

“I’m fine, let’s go” you wiped your lips, still feeling the nausea but not as bad as it was just a few moments earlier.

“We can sit down for a moment” Joel insisted not giving two shits what Tess was saying.

“N-no. I’m fine”

“Let’s go” Tess insisted.

“Hey-“ Joel whispered delicately turning your face to him.

“Ya sure?”

Tess once again rolling her eyes crossing her arms.

“I’m sure, let’s go” you began to walk beside Joel catching up to where Ellie was as Tess walked off.

Throughout the walk you could feel Joel’s eyes on you, although you continued, he didn’t believe you were ok.

The first stop you all made was at a pharmacy, you were surprised to see there was any product left. Tess, Joel and you made sure the building was clear before checking what was left. Thankfully your nausea had gone away but you knew it would come back sooner or later, it always did around the same time every day. Joel was distracted looking in the back of the store while Tess was in a stock room. You watched as Ellie happily packed a few feminine products before you realized the very next aisle had a few things left that caught your eye. Quickly without anyone noticing you grabbed a box of pregnancy tests and some prenatal vitamins stuffing them into your bag just incase.

“I’m surprised there’s anything left in this place” Tess voice made you jump as you turned to find her behind you, her eyes darting between the few boxes of pregnancy tests left and you.

“What are you doing here?” She raised a brow. As if it was any of her business, but the second she saw you even eyeing a pregnancy test she couldn’t help herself. God she hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was.

“N-nothing, I- I just-“ she squinted her eyes, changing her worried expression when you looked up at her.

“Oh god…he’s knocked you up…Hasn’t he?”

“N-no, I don’t know..I-“

“Oh…I feel sorry for you” she chuckled.

“he’s gonna hate you for this”

“What?” You whispered confused.

“You think he wants to have any more kids?” She laughed as you stood silent. More?

“Oh I’m sorry, that’s right…you don’t know certain things about him..” you could hear the taunting in her voice.

“What certain things?” You whispered.

“He never told you about Sarah, did he?” she seemed to get a kick out of this.

“Sarah?” Your chest felt as if it was caving in.

“No” you looked away in shock.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it but she died years ago…when this all started and it….it changed him.” You swallowed uncomfortably.

“He isn’t gonna want this, sweetheart. This will only upset him. You’ll see a side of him that’ll make you want to run away. You’re better off not even telling him if you are and just…taking off” you pressed your lips together holding back tears. For the first time Tess made sense to you.

“We can stay here for the night” Joel called out from the back quickly distracting you from the conversation. Without saying a word you quickly walked away, you had no idea to where but anywhere away from Tess. Of course that was when you ran into Joel.

“Hey-hey, what’s goin’ on?”

Joel could tell you were upset, his hand caressing the side of your face.

“Nothing, I’m just looking for stuff” you lied, you couldn’t even look at him.

“Did somethin’ happen?”

“No!” You stubbornly lied taking a deep breath.

“Just let me look at what they have left” you composed yourself and looked up at him. He silently nodded and let you walk off before looking up at Tess down the next aisle. She didn’t notice him looking at her and caught her chuckling to herself before walking away.

Ellie sat beside you pulling out a sandwich from her bag that Marlene had packed. The smell instantly striking you making you quickly turn your face. Ellie hadn’t noticed, you quickly stood up and ran off to the back room as Joel looked at you strangely.

“Just let her be already” Tess spoke as Joel stayed staring at the door you had ran into.

“If I were you, I’d ignore her” Tess snacked on a cracker as Joel stood up.

“Well I ain’t you and she ain’t your problem, she’s mine” he uttered under his breath as he walked off to where you were.

Hiding in the back you heard footsteps coming close, you already knew it was Joel and quickly turned away.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” He stopped a few feet away making sure to give you space.

“Nothing, I just-“ you squeezed your eyes shut with your hand over your mouth as another strong wave of nausea hit you.

“You alright?” You heard him begin to get closer and snapped.

“I’m fine!” You screamed without turning back to him.

“Just get the hell away, give me a damn minute!”

He stood silent for a moment feeling defeated, hopeless. How could he not know what the hell was wrong with you?

“Did I do somethin’ to upset cha?” His question creating a knot in your throat. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to this way, but you knew it was the only way he’d listen.

“Just go” you whispered.

Joel took a step back silently leaving the room leaving you to cry alone. Still you hadn’t taken a test but you knew, you knew you were pregnant.

Later that night while everyone slept you found a private space and finally took the test. Just as you thought two bright pink lines appeared. You cried in a panic, it was all real now. Hiding the test and the packaging where it couldn’t be found you wiped your tears and grabbed your backpack, you knew what had to be done.

Never did you think in a million years that you would be needing Tess’ help, yet here you were carefully waking her up out of her sleep.

“Tess” you whispered, she looked up at you confused.

“I need you to help me get out of here without Joel or Ellie waking up. Distract them as much as you can so I can get as far as I can” a rush of excitement went through Tess as she sat up.

“You’re leaving?”

“I have to” you whispered.

“You did the pregnancy test?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, I just did” you pressed your lips together.

“Where do I tell him you went or why you left?”

“You don’t. You act like you never saw me leave, hell, I don’t even know where the hell I’m going. I just…I’m too afraid to tell him and I need to leave now.” Tess stood up straight as you struggled to hold your tears back.

“Take care of him for me ok?” You whispered through a trembling voice before turning away and as quietly as possible sneaking out of the store.

Tess for the first time in a while felt satisfied, her plan had worked. You were gone and Joel never knew you were pregnant but neither of you knew that as you spoke with Tess, Ellie lay awake listening to every word being said.

Afraid to say anything to Tess, Ellie lay quietly looking over at Joel. She didn’t know what Tess was doing but all she could hear was footsteps around her, she closed her eyes pretending to be asleep, she didn’t trust Tess.

Once she heard Tess finally walk into a room she quickly threw a rolled up paper at Joel and closed her eyes. At first he didn’t budge, making Ellie sigh and try once more, this time his eyes flung open. Squinting, she found him staring directly at her a few feet away before he began to look around and that’s when he realized you weren’t around.

Joel quickly stood up looking around the store just as Tess walked out of a back room with a surprised expression not expecting him to have woken up.

“Where is she?” He asked looking around as Tess hesitantly walked towards him.

“Um, I don’t know…I just woke up she must’ve snuck out-“

“Snuck out?” Joel turned to her with confusion as Ellie opened her eyes. Quietly she got up without saying a word to either of them, both of them distracted with what was going on Ellie wandered to the back.

Looking around for any possible evidence she needed, Ellie heard you say you had taken a test. Of course, there it was, an opened pregnancy test box stuffed between 2 bricks in the wall. God you were sneaky. Inside the box lay the positive test you had taken, Ellie quickly ran out to Joel who was in the middle of a heated conversation with Tess.

“Joel!” She ran to him as he looked down at her confused. Without saying a word she handed him the box, Tess’ eyes widened.

“Where the hell did you get that?” She whispered.

“The hell is this?” Joel looked inside the box.

“It was y/ns, I heard her say she took a test Joel” his brows furrowed as he pulled the test out of the box and read the positive results. His face turning pale as he realized what he was looking at before he snapped back to reality. His eyes darkened, looking straight up at Tess.

“The hell did you do?” He whispered coldly.

“I-I didn’t do anything, Joel, you barely knew her-“ Joel stepped forward with a deadly look in his eyes making Tess step back.

“The hell did you tell her?”

Tess stood silent and he knew right then and there…he knew she had told you about Sarah and scared you away.

“She needed to know about Sarah, Joel, she’s here thinking you two can actually have this-“

“That wasn’t your decision to make” Joel responded as he began to pack his back pack.

“Oh come on, Joel, you know damn well you don’t want that baby” he stopped moving, the silence so tense Ellie held her breath. Joel stood up and slowly walked towards Tess-

“If anything happens to her or my baby, I’ll find you.” Tess couldn’t believe how Joel was speaking to her. Speechless she watched as he walked out and called Ellie to follow.

He had no idea how or where he was going to find you but he knew his priorities were now only you and the baby and he was going to make sure he found you.

Joel’s tags

@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @heartpatch @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco

@ashleyfilm @justajoelsreader @lonely-ey3s

@elliesr1fle @ro-nahime-things

@readingiskeepingmegoing

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller fan fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #tlou fanfiction

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saltynsassy31 · 1 day ago

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Full disclaimer, I have to read any of the fics written for Shockwave and the kids yet as I've been busy and off Tumblr for a bit for my own mental health lol

But I recently saw a photo of an abandoned carousel in some underground area filled with puddles and it reminded me of that one deleted scene from Detroit: Become Human where the Jerry's make a broken carousel work again for Alice and they all just watched her happily play on it as the world around them crumbled.

And, with that thought, it also reminded me of Shockwave and the kids and I simply HAD to write a small drabble fic of it. Sorry if it isn't accurate for the characters or the story already made, but I hope it's enjoyed regardless :3

And, I hope, with all the angst going on, this fluffy story will satisfy yall a bit XD

[This is the post I saw that inspired me to write this, if anyone wants a visual of the place: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DGog_W_vDiR/?igsh=b3FsYm50enJhM3ln ]

AU belongs to @keferon

Carousel

~☆~

As the days went by, the situation they all found themselves in was slowly starting to get far too real. It was fun, at first, running around abandoned buildings and scavenging for whatever they could find, spending time with their newly acquired aquatic dad friend who kept them safe and well fed.

But then things started to show up and it scared them. Shockwave tried to avoid the areas with the most floating bodies, the children having seen enough of that (and he hoped they hadn't seen any they would recognise), but every now and then something would float up and startle them. Other times they'd run into bigger problems while scavenging and they had far too many close calls for Shockwave's liking.

They tend to keep themselves entertained, for the most part. Shockwave only occasionally indulged. But, usually, he could simply gently float on the surface of the water and let the kids tire themselves out. However, they've become more quiet lately.

It was hard to tell what caused it. Could be a myriad of things, as listed before, maybe it was finally starting to dawn on them how the situation was far from ideal. Maybe it was the conversation they had with that Orca - Jazz, was it? Shockwave couldn't tell, and it bothered him.

He missed their lively chatter (it still happened, but few and far between). A part of him was starting to wonder if the humans who called him out on the fact that this wasn't normal behaviour for human children were right, a small pang of regret reaching the back of his mind.

But he shook those thoughts away. Now wasn't the time. Nothing about their situation was normal anyway, he was already providing more than enough for them to survive this cruel world.

Shockwave was aggressively pulled out of his drifting thoughts by an ear piercing screech that immediately put him on high alert.

“Guys! Guys! Look!” He heard Skids say. Turning to look at him, he followed where the boy was pointing at.

It looked to be some kind of fair or theme part, it was a little hard to tell. Half of it was submerged, but there were some areas in which the water had receded. Shockwave relaxed once he deemed the situation safe, but still gave a small scrutinising glare at Skids for causing unnecessary concern - which went, of course, completely ignored.

“Oh wow, it looks pretty banged up, huh?” Tc noted, crawling closer to the edge of Shockwave's back to get a better look.

“But there might still be some things left over. You know how much they tend to sell in these places? And now we can just snag them!” Warp argued, already getting excited at the thought.

“Do we really need more useless things to carry around?” Trailbreaker argued, the bag he carried strangely heavier on his back.

“There are other things we could do there.” Skids quickly chimed in. “We could check out some of the games they have.”

“Would there be any still working?”

“Carnival games easy to fix, Soundwave up to the task.”

They all turned to look at Soundwave, seemingly to silently fall into an agreement.

Warp turned to face Shockwave, clasping his hands together as he pleaded. “Can we go there? Pretty pleaaaase?” Before he could even answer, the others had joined them.

He wasn't going to say no. This was the exact type of fun distraction they needed, maybe it would help them go back to their usual, energetic selves. So the theatrics were unnecessary. Still, he couldn't help the small amusement it brought him. He pretended to think it over, as if he didn't already have their answer.

“Hmm, I don't know…”

Those simple words were enough to make them all Start to plead harder, making their eyes as big as possible, throwing promises he knew they'd never actually follow through.

That broke the façade he was trying to play up, causing him to laugh. “Alright, alright. We can go.” The kids erupted into celebratory cheers, hugging each other and jumping on Shockwave's back. “But don't stray so far where I can't reach you, okay?”

They all nodded, but he only had trust in some of them to actually obey his orders.

Regardless, he swam over to the abandoned park and waited until they had slid off of him before crawling over onto land. The ground was still pretty wet, so it made it easier for him to slide around and follow them, keeping himself to the more deeper puddles when possible.

He watched as they all went to different directions with their own, small group. Tc and Warp, always tied to the hip, ran over to some of the stands that still had some prizes hanging. Windcharger and Trailbreaker followed Damus as he ran to play some of the games that didn't require power to work. And Skids and Soundwave went…

Where did they go?

Panic immediately followed the realisation. Shockwave stood up straighter and began to spin his head around in search of the two missing kids. The others didn't seem to have noticed their absence, too enthralled in their own activity.

He was about to start calling when he heard a familiar boisterous voice call from not too far. “Guys! Over here! Come see what me and Soundwave just discovered!”

Immediately, all of the attention was on Skids who had a smile so wide Shockwave was worried he'd hurt himself with it. The others looked at each other briefly before making their way over, Damus hesitating a bit before putting down the fishing rod he held and following the rest.

Shockwave did so as well, to the best of his abilities anyway. The further they went, the tighter the space became and less water reached the surface for him to easily slide around. He wanted to voice his complaint of them going too far, like he had explicitly told them not to before coming here (and really, he thought Warp would have disobeyed first before Soundwave. Skids made sense, but him?) But before he could even think of what to say, Skids noticed his struggle and seemed to remember something.

“Oh, right! Almost forgot.” He jogged over to the mer shark and gently grabbed at one of his fingers to guide him elsewhere. “There's an opening that takes you directly to the area we found. You have to swim underneath some rubble, but it should fit you.”

The boy took him to some dilapidated attraction of the park, it was too broken to tell what it used to be, but it did create an opening that allowed Shockwave to fit through perfectly fine. “Just swim straight ahead and it should take you to the area, we'll meet you there.”

Immediately, Shockwave didn't like that idea, and he didn't need to voice his thoughts for the teen to catch on, his glare doing the job just fine. “It'll be fine, don't worry! It's not that far. Less than a minute, probably less than a second for you since you're so big you'll just have to slide in and out. Besides, there's nothing here, the place is completely barren.”

Shockwave was still unconvinced.

Skids took to pleading. “Please! It'll be quick, I promise you. And worth it too! It's the exact thing we've been needing, and Soundwave put a lot of work on it. I know you don't like leaving us alone for even a second, but give it a chance?”

They stared at each other for a moment, Skids making his eyes as wide and innocent as possible and Shockwave hoping the stubborn teen would dispel this idea with his glare alone.

In the end, Skids guppy eyes were far too powerful even for a great shak such as Shockwave. And the kid was right, wasn't this what he wanted for them to begin with?

He let out a heavy sigh of defeat and reluctantly agreed to it. “Fine. I trust you, but if anything shows up–”

“We don't engage with it and call for you, yes, I know. Now go! Soundwave is waiting!” Skids ushered Shockwave to submerge himself into the large opening with the wave of his hands and only joined back with the others once he could no longer see the large mer.

One relief Shockwave had was that the tunnel formed was large enough that he could easily turn around and pop back out if he heard any of the kids in danger, though it also lacked any proper escape for him as it only had one direction for him to go. Straight ahead or backwards.

But Skids was right in saying the trip was short, he could already hear the muffled voices of his children. Soon enough, he found himself resurfacing, the lively chatter being the first thing his senses picked up on.

When the children heard the splash of water, they all turned to look towards the source of the noise, their excitement almost blindingly radiat in contrast to the dark, murky room they found themselves in.

The place was closed off by fallen buildings that created a sort of cave around them, plenty of fauna already making its home here. It was fairly empty as well, save for the large, round attraction in the middle of the room. It had horses stuck to poles inside it, a dim pink and gold decorating the whole thing, the paintings that littered it had long since faded and it was hard to tell what it once was.

“Okay, you're here, good.” Skids turned to Soundwave, who was standing next to what looked to be a control panel. “Soundwave, would you do us the honours?”

The other teen nodded, bending down to start pulling at some wires in place of pressing the buttons offered. Warp scoffed, crossing his arms and looking skeptically at his friend. “There's no power here, how in the world are you going to get it to work? I swear, if you brought us all the way here for nothing I–”

Before he could finish his sentence, a blast of music and light echoed loudly around the empty space, causing everyone to flinch back and cover their ears. Shockwave nervously looked around, worried that the loud noise might have attracted some unwanted attention. Once the shock faded, Skids ran up to Soundwave and gestured proudly at the now working carousel.

“Ta-da!”

“Wh…how is this possible!?” Warp questioned, looking at Soundwave for answers, to not only be ignored, but shoved around by the other kids who ran towards the attraction. “Seriously?! Is no one else even a little bit concerned on how this is possible?”

Tc placed a hand over his shoulder, bringing his attention to him. “Warp, just enjoy the miracle. When are we going to get another chance like this?”

Warp could only grumble. Tc was right, they wouldn't, not for a long time. That didn't mean he had to accept it though.

Shockwave watched as they all walked over and picked their favourite horse, Tc and Skids fighting over the same blue one before Trailbreaker broke their fight up and offered his to Tc, walking up to help Damus up and sit with him instead. Shockwave observed the way Soundwave continued to pick at the control panel and looked up at the other children, waiting for their confirmation that they were ready before clicking something and closing the panel. As soon as he did that, the carousel began to slowly move, the horses bobbing up and down in gentle motions, causing the kids to excitedly cheer.

Soundwave stepped on the moving platform while it was still picking up speed and sat on a random horse near Windcharger. Although not as vocal as the others, he was clearly enjoying it.

Shockwave couldn't quite get what was so entertaining about the thing. It was slow, even after it picked up some speed, and the music was painful to the ears. But that didn't quite matter, did it? They were happy, and they were having fun.

It clearly was something they knew about before the tsunami, before their civilization fell apart. A simple joy of life that they missed.

And, in a world dimmed by tragedy and destruction, where at every corner something threatens their very existence, isn't that all they could ask for?

So, in a small moment of peace, Shockwave let himself relax. He bent forward and rested his chin over his crossed arms and watched as his children sang along with the screechy music, bouncing on their fake horses and pretending they were in some high chase in their little imaginary world.

In this dreary reality, even the artificial light of a broken past could make it all worth it.

#fanfic #apocalyptic ponyo #transformers au #shockwave #skids #thundercracker #skywarp #damus #trailbreaker #windcharger #soundwave #dude i have no fucking idea what possessed me to write this #besides the pure power that that deleted scene in d:bh did to me all those years ago when I first saw it #literally like #i woke up. opened instagram. saw that post and IMMEDIATELY opned my google docs #i didnt even eat breakfast yet! just now did i leave my bed #i need the spirit that possessed me to write this possess me again because i have several fics i need to finish LMAO #also ugh i cant take the angst #i got physically ill at how sad i got i had to write something fluffy for this au XD

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enigmaris · 2 days ago

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Lois writes the article. The Justice League freaks out. Investigations are done, meetings are held. In the mean time, a suspected connection between ghosts and the lazurus pits means that there is a very specific person who wants a one on one with Phantom even though all of the heroes agreed to not approach phantom until the anti ecto acts are gone. Jason never follows the rules anyway:

“Daniel Phantom, do not even think about it.”

Her tone of voice made every bone in his body yearn to turn invisible immediately, Lois jumped up trying to catch him. Danny grinned and got ready to fly away, a game of tag would keep Lois from questioning him! Right before Danny’s plan could commence, the sound of Lois's phone ringing cut it off. Danny froze as Lois pulled out her phone and looked at the screen.

“It’s Batman. Wonder what he could possibly need.”

Danny let himself fly all the way to the ceiling, until his back was pushed up against it. He looked down as Lois answered her phone, helpfully putting it on speaker.

“You’re on speaker Bats, what can Lois Lane and her plucky new intern do for you?”

“Intern?” A voice Danny didn’t know answered back. “I thought Superman was the only one for you. I guess you move fast, Lois.”

“Nightwing.” Lois said. “What are you doing calling from Batman’s phone?”

“If B didn’t want me to use his phone, he should have called you himself. You know how he is, Lois. Won’t ever ask for help unless he’s about to die and not even then.” Nightwing snarked back. “Gotham’s got a bit of a supernatural concern that I think I need a consult from your intern for.”

Danny tilted his head, not moving closer to Lois when she looked up at him.

“What sort of concern? I’ll pass along your message if it's interesting enough. My intern’s got enough on his plate getting me coffee to watch after you birds.”

“Fair enough.” Nightwing allowed. “We think one of our own is ecto-contaminated. To be entirely fair we all might be a bit, not that we’ve gotten our hands on a GIW scanner. The real concern is with Red Hood though. I know your report said that ecto-contamination is harmless but Red Hood has had some interesting side effects since he took a bath in some glowing green goop.”

“A bath?” Danny asked, his voice echoing out from the ceiling.

There was a pause on the other end of the call before Nightwing spoke again.

“Yes. A bath. Do the words Lazurus Pit mean anything to you, Miss Lane’s Intern?”

“Never heard of it.” Danny said, trying not to let himself sound ashamed by it. “But I don’t like the name. Sounds spooky.”

“Aren’t you a spook?”

“Different kind of spook.” Danny defended.

“Well. We think it might actually be the same sort of spook actually. The Lazurus Pits are pools of glowing green liquid, no one knows where they came from. There are a dozen or so dotted around the planet. If a sick or dying person goes into it, they are healed sometimes with side effects. If a healthy person goes in, they die.” Nightwing said. “Sometimes if people go into, they don’t come out again.”

Danny... might actually know what those are. Huh.

“What kind of side effects?”

"Homicidal rage. Memory loss. Temporary increased strength. Glowing eyes.”

“Okay. And how long has Red Hood being dealing with this?”

“On and off for about five years.” Nightwing answered.

“I might actually know what’s going on.” Danny said. “But I’d have to see him. I’m not like a ghost doctor or anything, but if it's what I think it is, then I can fix it for sure.”

“Fix it?” Another voice from the phone asked.

Danny could hear a scuffle over the phone as two people wrestled for it. He exchanged looks with Lois until the second voice seemed to get the phone under his control completely.

“What do you mean by fix it?” the second voice demanded.

“Erm. Who is this?”

“Red Hood. Who the fuck else?”

“I don’t know who has access to Batman’s phone dude, chill.”

“Don’t tell me to chill. Tell me what you mean by fix it.”

"Dude. I have ice powers I absolutely can tell you to chill.” Danny shot back making Lois snort.

"Start. Talking.”

“He wasn’t kidding about the anger issues huh?” Danny asked Lois instead of answering. Danny grinned when he heard a growl over the phone. “Look. Red Hood. I don’t know if it is what I think it is. I need to see you in person before I can tell you anymore. Do you know how many glowing green goops there are in the universe?”

“Do you?” Nightwing asked, voice muffled as he was further from the phone. Danny listened as Red Hood told Nightwing to ‘shut the fuck up’ with a hiss.

"I’ll send Lane an address in Gotham. Meet me there in an hour.” Red Hood instructed.

“How do you know I’m free in an hour? I’m a busy intern you know. You’re not being very polite.”

Danny could hear the teeth grinding on the other end. He grinned as Red Hood took in a deep breath through his nose.

“Can we please meet in an hour?” Red Hood asked.

“Yeah sure. I’ll fly by.”

“Now what do we say to people who do nice things for us?” Lois asked. “Especially poor lowly interns who have an entire branch of the government hunting them?”

“Would you like me to blow up a GIW base for you?” Red Hood asked.

"Hood no!” Nightwing shouted.

“Hood yes.” Hood said.

The two vigilantes started arguing with each other, so Lois just rolled her eyes and ended the call.

If Lois Lane had a nickle for every time she had to help an overpowered boy from the midwest with the power of journalism, she'd have two nickles. Which isn't a lot but its weird that its happened twice.

Danny watched as Lois pulled out her phone and pulled up a recording app.

“What are you doing?”

“You came to a journalist and are surprised to get an interview?” She asked him, her tone clearly joking. “What you’ve given me here is great kid, but newspaper clippings and copies of federal laws don’t get the public’s attention. I need a story, Phantom’s the story.”

“I’m not Phantom.”

Lois looked at him, less than impressed. Slowly, she turned the screen of her computer until it was visible to both of them. There, in full clarity, was a front-page story from his hometown newspaper. ‘Danny Phantom saves Bus Full of Children!’ and there was a picture of him in his ghost form, his face crystal clear on her screen.

"Phantom’s a ghost. I’m just a dumb kid.” Danny tried again.

Lois pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand and muttered to herself.

“Why do all you midwestern boys have the same schtick?”

“I’m sorry?” Danny said, unsure if he should be apologizing or not.

“Changing your last name from Fenton to Phantom does not a secret identity make kid. It might work for most civilians, but anyone familiar with the hero game will clock you from a mile away.”

“I’m not Phantom.”

“Sure, kid. But I’m sure you have a way for me to interview him, right? Because I want to talk to him before I do anything else about your town.”

Danny hugged himself and looked down at his knees.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Not the worst I’ve seen. Wonder Woman’s is paper thin. I'm pretty sure most people in DC know who she is outside of the cape and just don’t say anything because she scares them.”

Danny snorted involuntarily at that, looking back up at the woman.

“What’s going on in your town, Phantom? Why come to a journalist and not the Justice League?”

“The Anti-Ecto Acts got passed like a year ago. They state that only being that produces or contains ectoplasm above a certain amount is considered non-sapient and is to be turned over to the government for disposal.” Danny said. “I put the whole thing in there for you to read, but it's long. Amity Park has a lot of ectoplasm in it. It's seeped into the air and water. Normal human people have it in them now. At first, those agents were just firing at me whenever I finished a ghost fight. I could deal with that. Their aim is terrible anyway. But then they figured out that humans can become contaminated with ectoplasm. They decided that meant the entire town was under their jurisdiction. They've decided that means that no one in town counts as human anymore, that we don’t have rights, that they’re doing us a favor by not just exterminating the entire town like the law says.”

Danny leaned forward, putting his hands on the desk in front of Lois Lane. He looked right into her bright eyes and spoke seriously.

“When it was just ghosts under attack, I didn’t think anyone would care. I’ve tried calling the Justice League for help, but they’ve brushed me off. People need to know what’s happening. Anyone can become ecto-contaminated. You just have to be in the right place at the wrong time. It’s not right what’s happening to Amity, Miss Lane. I came to you because if anyone could get the world to listen, to believe, then it's got to be you.”

And Lois Lane smiled. It was a proud, eager smile. The kind of smile Danny had seen on Sam right after she convinced the school to serve a vegan lunch. He barely held back from shivering.

“Well then, Mr. Phantom.” Lois said, before tapping onto the recording app on her phone and starting a recording. “Let’s begin.”

#lois lane #danny phantom #ive written like 20k now. i really should start posting on ao3 again #plot twist on this one though #the lazurus pit is not contaminated ectoplasm #jason had a whole other deal that danny will maybe be able to fix lol

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euphoria-looney · 21 hours ago

Text

Astro!

Yan!Batfam x Neglected!Reader Squid Games!AU

m. list|next

"And goodness knows, The Wicked's Lives are lonely. Goodness knows, The Wicked die alone. It just shows, when you're wicked, You're left only, on your own." 'No One Mourns The Wicked' by Wicked the Musical

Divider creds: (?) and @dollywons

As a kid, all I longed for was someone to play a game with me that didn’t require some form of technology to keep both of us entertained.

Well, be careful what you wish for, because I have reached an all-time low, willing to kill people with children's games to earn money.

How much longer will I spend in this twisted game before getting killed? Maybe this is better whether I win or lose, I still gain freedom.

One choice is just the better option.

That’d be losing winning.

Sure I would feel immense guilt, but I’d be free from debt… and then what? No longer needing to slave anyway from the amount of money I receive.

What then?

Could therapy even help? They’d probably send me off to a mental ward.

Who's going to believe I won millions from playing some children’s games?

I looked around and saw the old man again from earlier, sitting alone in a space, I approached him, and he accepted to play with me.

“When I was little, this was one of my favorite games as a child.” The old man told us while we were walking into an open area.

“Really? I’ll be honest, I’ve never played this game before.”

As we finally found a point to play the game, we conversed.

—

“Did we do this to make a pact?”

He held out his hand, his pinkie and thumb sticking out, I laughed, wrapping my pinkie around his, pressing our thumbs together.

“Sir, no my gganbu- I think that’s what they called a really close friend right?”

—

Eventually we went all for nothing, this was the funniest game I ever played… I almost forgot the fact that I was going to die at the end.

“Ah, guess you won, betting all my marbles for your single one. Didn’t see that one coming.” I chuckled sadly.

He held my hand and placed the last marble in my palm.

“Take it, it’s yours anyway.” I looked up at him in shock, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“We are gganbu aren’t we? Remember we swore on it. And Gganbu always shares everything no matter what. You made this all possible.” My shoulder shook, as I could only stare at my shoes, my eyes felt like facets at the point.

And then I felt these same hands embrace me, and I felt like a child all over again.

“What a great way to go.”

He pulled away, making me face him.

“Thank you. I had a good time.”

I hugged him once again, my tears overflowing on his shoulders.

He let go and I walked out of the gates.

Sniffles were all I could do before I heard the voice behind me.

“I remember my name now. My name is Il-nam. Oh Il-nam.”

I kept walking then flinched when I heard a ‘bang’ go off.

Surrounded by all these dead bodies, and these empty emotions, I pushed forward.

[Player 1, Eliminated]

—

Despite everything, I’m still having these selfish thoughts of staying alive.

We had just played ‘glass bridge’ leaving three of us here, dressed in suits, and eventually I was talking with Penelope, she’s the one that helped me out of the restraint we were in after we left for the first time.

“Hey, [name], just in case either of us can actually make it out of this hellhole, promise that we will take care of each other's loved ones, okay?”

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay.”

But she took more damage than any of us once the glass had shattered and was losing blood fast.

“Stay where you are, I’ll go get someone.”

I left and went to the guard or whatever they were, to beg, plead, for a doctor, maybe one that could’ve been on standby, but instead they walked past me with a coffin.

I could only stare at my once best friend standing over her bed.

I ran over there and held her body up, shaking her for some sign of hope.

“No, Penelope, please, no…”

—

Approaching the end game, we ate a feast, so fresh and nicely made, I felt the need to puke.

We place in the field shapes surrounding us, to resemble a squid, this was, Squid Game.

The rain soaking both of us, gray skies, and a single guard on the side.

Astro’s shirt still soaked in blood, his suit back on. He spoke before the game began, a knife in hand.

“I ended her suffering. You know she would have died anyway.”

The tears that once stained my face had been washed off by the rain, and now I could only feel disdain for the man I once knew in front of me.

“That’s bullshit, stop lying. She could’ve survived, they could have treated her.”

He retorted.

“I know what you’re like, you’re the reason I had to kill her. I knew you two would stop all this, so she didn’t die there. Even though we’ve gone so far, just to quit?”

It seemed so similar to the time back at the manor.

—

“Damian had a lot happen to him as a child, are you going to blame him for this?” Dick sighed Damian behind him with no remorse for the fact I had slashes on my arm, not deep but painful. And though they wouldn’t leave scars, would that really matter?

He held a weapon against me while all I had was a stack of books now discarded and torn on the ground.

“[name]. You’re older than him, he’s still a child. You are the reason for this, it could’ve been avoided if you didn’t egg things on. Don’t blame Damian for your faults.” Egg him on? All I did was try and avoid him.

It wasn’t fair.

—

Now, if it wasn’t high before, my blood pressure had to be spiking. For that petty reason? Simply because he didn’t want all of this going to waste?

“Was that it? You killed someone because this might end?” My voice trembled.

“Yeah! You and that girl would have been the majority you needed to get out! Going home without anything! I couldn’t live with that!”

“And you think that means anything?! What?! one more life on top of the others you’ve stolen isn’t enough, and won’t be enough until you receive something?! You’d rather have one more dead than for all three of us to leave and somehow find another way to bring something, anything home?!” I shouted back at him.

I took my knife out of my pocket.

“It's over…”

“I won’t let you leave here with the money.”

3RD POV

While the VIP’s finally stood up to watch this entertaining last game.

Two people who have developed over time physically and mentally, once friends, were squabbling, fighting with very small amounts of energy, but a passion to win.

Both stabbed the other when eventually, player 456 was able to get the other on the ground and punched him over and over again.

The Waynes couldn’t help but be relieved this was it, they’d never let her go again, they would make up for everything starting with making sure she would be okay.

“Found the location heading there soon!” They heard Cassandra on the other line.

Late, but they would make it.

—

[name]’s POV

I held my knife, before stabbing it into the field, next to his face, before limping over to the goal point, it felt miles anyway, the guard had his gun loaded and aimed at Astro.

There before me was the practical finish line.

I can’t… No, I refuse to if anything, playing this game has fucked me other the head, but I refuse for one second to let this game be the last thing I ever see Astro at.

“I wanna end here.” I face the guard walking back to them.

“Clause Three of the agreement. The players are able to end the game when the majority agrees, so if we both give up, you have to end it right?” I stumbled over.

The guard spoke on the walkie-talkie while I gazed back at Astro.

“Astro.”

“Back when we went to the same school, we’d hang out together and study before leaving chasing after our purpose that called out for us. Nothing's calling anymore.” After all this time, he still is.

I smiled at him, that once gummy smile I adorned, one that I hated so much.

“Let’s go”

I extended my hand to him.

“Let’s go together.”

He slowly lifted his hand.

“[name], I’m sorry.”

And before I could react, he took that hand and grabbed the knife that I put right next to him, and impaled himself in the neck with it.

Blood gushed out and he choked out blood.

I quickly went to his side, stabilizing his head.

“Astro! Astro!”

“[name]..”

“No, no, don’t speak! Hang on!” I was panicking, this can’t be the end of us.

“M-my mother, please take care of my mom. And…”

“I love you.” That made me freeze my erratic movements, I was sure he could’ve seen my eyes widen.

“Loved you since meeting you.” With that, he closed his eyes and I could only call out his name, and held onto his body, it was getting colder fast.

[Player 218, Eliminated. Congratulations, Player456]

—

3rd POV

“Believe in Jesus or go to Hell!” A guy holding two signs chanted outside in the rain, strangers walking past each other, a white limo rolled up on the side of the street, dumping a bruised and exhausted body on the sidewalk, the same guy chanting untied the girl.

“Believe in Jesus.”

The girl was in the bank depositing 4.56 billion dollars before withdrawing some out. Her hair a mess, eyes sullen and eye bags that dragged down her face, she seemed exhausted. Walking back to the store she once worked at, a sign stated ‘SOLD’ and next to it a reef, “Rest in Peace, Conny Claire, Died too soon, old shop owner that meant so much to many people.” Flowers that surround the message.

The girl that came there for a snack could only sink to the ground in shock, hands rising to cover her face, body shaking and quivering.

Walking down a store alleyway, Astro’s mom approached the girl.

“How have you been, here take some food for the road after losing…” She sighed, and patted the girl's back, walking back to her shop.

“Have you heard from… Nevermind.”

The girl opened her run down apartment where she once lived and went to see all the old photos in the yearbook of classes she had with Astro and in all of the group ones featuring her, her classmates, and Astro she noticed how in each one he was looking at her, with those fond eyes.

She could only fall onto her bed, her tired state crept on her before she fell asleep.

Some time later, the girl kept her promise to Penelope and helped out her family, then left them with Astro’s mom, leaving a wealthy sum of money, they became a family… somewhat of a replacement for the other's loved one, and the girl left paying off whatever debt any of them had.

The girl was sitting alone at the pond, drinking some alcohol. Before an old woman approached her, a flower basket in hand, it seemed she needed to sell them immediately before they wilted away. The girl reached into her pocket, handing her some money before the old woman went off.

Picking up the nicely wrapped flower, a card appeared, making the girl stumble at picking up the card before reading it.

Approaching a hospital, card in hand.

It was the old man.

“What is this… Who are you?”

“Pour some water for me. Please, [name].”

And there she sat, anger rising in her, but she couldn’t do anything against the man who made the games.

She sat listening to the man talk, about the homeless guy below them, about how everything he said about himself was true, how he missed the old days, him and his friend used to have the time of their lives, and how no matter if you're homeless or rich both lives are no fun. Then a clock struck.

She looked at the machine to see that his heart was no longer beating, instead a flat line appeared. Getting up, she closed his eyes.

That’s when she finally started her life again. She got it together.

So, at the first place, her life changed at the same bus stop, well across from it, the skies were clear and the sun was glaring into the area. It had been a regular day for her, working at her own company and all.

Maybe that’s why when she unlocked her car and stared right in front of her at that same place, she was shocked to see her father, Bruce Wayne, and his family.

That’s it for this part of Astro! Did you like it?

Also, unlike Squid Game, soon after [name] left, everyone that participated in Squid Games got arrested, which made it on the news, but was looked past after a few months, [name] made gravestones for Penelope and Astro.

Ofc the Batfam got the credit and got even more famous for uncovering this incident, which is also why they hadn’t ‘visited’ [name] and now are just getting to it.

Not the update you expected, but I hope you like it.

Any comments, advice and corrections are appreciated!!!

-ILoveeeMoney

Taglist time! ❤

Also, I love the idea and from fic from both @jellyfishmoon97 and @not-weirdoshrek and a new addition that I'm super happy I bumped into @alilobsessive.

@holysoulsweets @sh4rk-k1d @sillysealsies @loomspuddle @cantfindmelol @alwaysholymilkshake @leitor-sonolento @randomlyappearingartist @beyondblissxoxo @sirairi @yhin-gg @frankie-moon3 @welpthisisboring @yokesmam @bat1212 @enchantingarcadecreation @twismare @delias-stuff @ladylupuscrow @ferchu0406 @c4xcocoa @cruzerforce4256 @anonymoushehehehe @godoreo22 @blerp-22 @facelessisnthere @sirenetheblogger @themightybee4067 @boredselkie @tiffyisme3760 @random4137 @midnightgrimoire @mybones537 @chaoticmoontimetravel @jsprien213 @crazycaoticsimp @elfollaburras3000 @czarinera @tiffyisme3760 @exactlynumberonekryptonite @gwyneveire @k-anaru @a-lurking-fae @nxdxsworld @ryuushou

I think that's everyone who wanted to be tagged, I hope I didn't spell anyone's name wrong and tag the wrong person.

#platonic batfam #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #batfam x neglected reader #batfam #neglected reader

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tiredofthehumanlife · 2 days ago

Text

Sweet Puff

Barbie Dolls: Mattheo x Hufflepuff!gn!reader

Word: 1k

summary: you get a nightmare and sneak into your bf's dorm for cuddles

warnings: people making out in public, you are technically a witness, slapping partner (not you or Mattheo), public sex mentioned kinda, smoking mentioned, sex joke, yeah that's it

Nights were never very easy for you to get through. Nightmares came easy to you, easier than breathing it seemed. The shadows of your dorm became taunting and the rumbles of the thunder outside pushed your anxiety over the edge. What was the point of sitting through the stress of your nightmares replaying when you could instead hide under the blankets of your boyfriend’s bed?

You were sure you would never need a map to find Mattheo. Your body pulled itself in his direction all without thought. You could easily track him down without anything other than your beating heart.

That and his dorm never moved so out wasn’t horrifically hard to find him anyway. You already regretted leaving your slippers behind by your bed. The cold stone floors were spreading a chill across your body. You were thankful for your robe, you knew the Hogwarts castle air would probably freeze you before you even reached the Slytherin door.

Mattheo kept you updated on the Slytherin password, whispering in your ear when it changed. It wasn’t terribly infrequent a Slytherin shared the password with a Hufflepuff. It wasn’t encouraged though. If a particularly caring Prefect found out you’d both be in deep trouble. Though the prefects on duty for the dungeons never had much heart in the game.

Penelope and Anthony, Slytherin and Ravenclaw. It was astonishing teachers still paired them up for prefect duties. Much less still let them go down into the dungeons alone. You didn’t bother pretending to be shocked when you saw them pressing each other against the wall with their tongues down each other’s throats.

Some days you wanted to sit down and ask them why they found each other so attractive. They were so different yet so alike it set you on edge.

Penelope groaned as she flipped Anothony back against the wall. She lifted her hand and smacked his cheek, not very hard but still enough to make you wonder if someone should check in on Anthony. Penelope muttered something to Anthony, you caught two words, good boy. Right well so glad that graced your ears today. Maybe this is why you’re having so many nightmares. Anthony lifted his head, grinning up at Penelope. Anthony slowly sank to his knees keeping his eyes on Penelope. Lovely couple.

“Hey, Penelope.” You greeted as you finally reached the entrance. Penelope looked up, digging her fingers into Anothoy’s hair and yanking his head away from her skirt. She smiled brightly at you, her teeth glinting in the dim candlelight.

“Hello, Another nightmare?” You nodded at her. She frowned, cooing at you. Well, maybe that’s why Anthony liked her. You shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter all that much to you. Anthony tilted him to the side, looking over at you.

“You know I heard the frequency of nightmares means you need to let go of something in your life,” Anothony said. You kept your eyes ahead of you, trained on the door.

“Really sorry Anthony, I can’t look you in the eye when you’re pressing your nose into Penelope’s undergarments.” You said, stepping closer to the Slytherin commonroom door and whispering the password. Anthony hummed.

“Fair enough, sleep tight,” Anthony yelled after you as you slipped into the commonroom.

You had the stairs memorized, your feet flashing up them as fast as you could. You felt your anxiety slip away as you found Mattheo’s dorm door easily. You secretly hoped his roommates were asleep. You couldn’t handle another awkward conversation with Theo, much less Draco.

You nudged the door open, cringing when it squeaked. You gently shut the door again, pausing a moment to see if anyone was still awake. You heard Blaise’s snores in the bed next to you, a good start. You could see Draco’s perfect folded outfit for the next day sitting on his trunk. Another good sign. His curtains were drawn so he was definitely asleep or at least pretending to be. You settled your eyes on Mattheo’s bed.

You tip-toed to the bed, pausing when you noticed the sound of rain was louder in the room than it was in the halls. You turned your head to see the window open and Theo sitting on the sill with a cigarette pressed between his fingers. He looked up at you and gave you an awkward smile, flashing his teeth at you.

“Hello, Theodore.” You muttered. Theo nodded. You sucked in a breath through your teeth, still standing in front of Theo awkwardly.

“Hello,” Theo answered. You looked away from him, heading for Matttheo’s bed. You gently tugged his curtains open, the metal rings scraping against the bar. Mattheo startled awake, his head picking off his pillow to stare at you. His face was scrunched up in confusion, eyes squinted at the bright moon sneaking in through the window. He relaxed when he realized it was you, flipping around in his bed, so he could lift his blanket. You slipped off your robe, flinging it at Mattheo’s trunk. Mattheo let out a quiet whistle, smiling up at you. You groaned, shaking your head in disapproval.

“I come to you in emotional turmoil and you’re making sexual advancements on me.” You whisper, sitting up on his bed on your knees. You reached up, jerking the curtains closed. Mattheo sat up slipping his arm around your hip. He kissed your side, nosing your shirt hem up. You swatted him away, laying down on the extra pillow he had just for you.

“I ran into Penelope and Anthony.” You muttered as you pulled the blanket up to your shoulder. Mattheo grimaced. He frowned and cradled your head in his hands.

“Oh my sweet Puff, how ruined your eyes are. We’ll have to take you to the doctor, get you replacements. Poor thing.” Mattheo whined, covering your eyes with his hands. You scoffed and pulled away. Your eye twitched as you laid back down.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve made you do much worse things.” You said, snapping your teeth at Mattheo’s hand when he tried to cover your eyes again. Mattheo grumbled. You beamed at him.

“Not in public.” You hummed at Mattheo, nodding your head. Mattheo gently pressed his lips against your forehead, cupping your cheek again. You sighed into his presence, finally feeling your nightmares wash away. You quickly fell asleep to the sound of his breath and the rain outside. Your nightmares, are always hidden when you are around Mattheo.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherin boys x reader

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inseobts · 2 days ago

Text

TRAITOR pt.2

law x traitor!reader

PART 1 ⤳ PART 3 (coming soon)

words count: 2.6k

tags: series, enemies to lover(?), traitor reader

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

It’s easy to forget you’re lying when they make it feel real.

The Heart Pirates aren’t just a crew, they’re a family. They bicker like siblings, tease each other relentlessly, and somehow, without meaning to, you’ve been pulled into it.

You should’ve kept your distance.

But how could you, when—

“Y/N! HELP!”

You barely have time to register the shout before something massive collides with you, nearly knocking you over.

“Bepo—” you gasp, struggling under the weight of the massive mink currently clinging to you “You cannot use me as a shield... what the hell is going on?”

Shachi and Penguin sprint around the corner, looking absolutely murderous. Ikkaku follows close behind, arms crossed, her glare laser-focused on Bepo.

“There you are, you traitor!” Penguin points an accusing finger at the trembling mink still latched onto you.

You blink “Okay, wow. Let’s pause. Why is Bepo a traitor?”

Shachi glares “Because someone ratted us out to the Captain.”

You sigh, already piecing it together “Did you guys try to smuggle alcohol into the infirmary again?”

“… No.”

“You so did.”

Bepo’s ears flatten, guilt all over his face “I had to tell him! He was going to find out anyway!”

“You snitch!” Shachi wails.

“You idiots,” you correct, prying Bepo off you before he suffocates you with his fluff “Why do you always try to hide stuff from Law? You know he’s just gonna find out and punish you worse.”

“It’s about the principle of it,” Penguin grumbles.

You sigh, rubbing your temples “What was the punishment?”

Shachi pouts “No dessert for a week.”

You stare “That’s it?”

“That’s everything, Y/N.”

Bepo nods solemnly “They’re suffering.”

You shake your head, barely suppressing a laugh “You guys are so dramatic.”

Ikkaku crosses her arms “You’re laughing now, but if Law ever finds out about that thing you did, you’re not getting out of it so easily.”

Your breath catches.

Just for a second.

And then you force an easy grin “Which thing? I do a lot of things.”

Ikkaku narrows her eyes playfully “The one with the—”

“Shh!” You slap a hand over her mouth “Don’t tell them, it’s supposed to be a secret!”

The others immediately light up with interest.

“Oh, now you have to tell us,” Shachi says eagerly.

“I am so telling the Captain,” Penguin teases.

Bepo nods sagely “This is karma.”

You groan, regretting everything.

Despite moments like these, you don’t forget why you’re here.

Deep beneath the Polar Tang, hidden in one of the ship’s most secure rooms, is one of the reasons you really joined this crew.

The copies of the Poneglyphs.

You don’t know how Law got his hands on them, but you do know that your real crew, the one you actually belong to, wants them.

And you’re the one who has to steal them.

The thought makes your stomach twist.

Because despite everything, despite the mission, despite knowing you’re a liar.

You don’t hate being here.

You don’t hate them.

You should’ve. It would’ve made this easier.

But you don’t.

Some weeks later you meet the Straw Hats, and you immediately know you’re in trouble.

Not because they’re enemies, or because they’re a threat.

But because of Zoro. You've met him years ago, and even if your real crew was always subtle that no one actually know them, he knows you're a well known pirate between the bounty hunters, even without a specific crew name on it.

You see it in his face the second his eye land on you. That flicker of recognition... subtle, but unmistakable.

You know that look.

It’s the look of someone who remembers you.

He just doesn’t know from where.

And that’s a problem.

“You look familiar,” he says bluntly, eyes narrowing slightly “Do I know you?”

Your mind races. A dozen different excuses flash through your head, but none of them are good enough.

So you go for the simplest, most believable one.

“You probably saw my bounty poster,” you say smoothly, forcing a grin “I’ve got a pretty face, after all.”

Shachi and Penguin snicker behind you.

Zoro eyes you for a second longer, clearly unconvinced, but Luffy claps a hand on his shoulder before he can question you further.

“Zoro, stop being weird,” Luffy says, grinning at you “She’s cool, right, Law?”

Law, who has been watching the exchange carefully, nods once. “She’s one of us.”

The words shouldn’t make your chest tighten the way they do.

But they do.

And that’s dangerous.

The Kid Pirates are even worse.

Because Kid is loud, brash, and aggressive—but he’s also smart.

And he watches you.

Not like Zoro, who’s trying to place your face. Not like Law, who looks at you like you matter.

Kid watches you like he’s waiting for you to slip up.

Like he knows something’s off about you, but he just hasn’t figured out what yet.

“You don’t fit,” he says one night, after too many drinks.

You tilt your head, keeping your expression neutral “Excuse me?”

Kid leans forward, propping his elbows on the table “You’re a little too smooth, a little too good at blending in.” He smirks. “Like you practiced.”

Your fingers tighten around your glass.

“I’ve always been good at adapting,” you say, keeping your voice casual “That’s what a good pirate does, right?”

Kid hums, unconvinced.

And you realize, with a slow sinking feeling—

He’s not going to stop watching you.

The deeper you fall into this act, the more tangled it gets.

Zoro recognizes you but doesn’t know from where.

Kid doesn’t trust you but doesn’t have proof.

Law believes in you, and that’s the worst part of it all.

Because when the truth finally comes out...

This new alliance between the three is a sign for you, a sign that it's time to make a move and get away before someone finds out who you are.

You knew the time was coming. You knew.

But now that it’s here, a sick feeling settles in your chest.

Because you don’t want to do it.

It’s not supposed to be this hard.

You’ve done this before. You’ve infiltrated crews, stolen information, betrayed captains who thought you were theirs. It’s always been simple.

Get in. Get what you need. Get out.

But this time—

This time, it’s different.

Because you’re attached.

Because when Law smirks at you in that rare, teasing way, it makes your chest tighten.

Because when the crew laughs and drags you into their stupid antics, you enjoy it.

Because when Bepo whines about missing Zou, when Shachi and Penguin bicker like children, when Ikkaku rolls her eyes at all of them...

It feels like home.

And now you have to rip it apart.

You tell yourself you’ll make it quick.

One night. One chance.

Slip into Law’s office. Get informations and the Poneglyph copies. Get out.

The submarine has weak points, small openings where the sea meets steel, barely noticeable unless you know where to look. And you do.

A quiet escape. No blood. No confrontation.

That’s the plan. Fast and easy, right?

So why does it feel like a mistake before you even start?

You wait until late, when most of the crew is asleep, their laughter from dinner still lingering in the halls.

Law is in his office, like always.

You hesitate outside the door. Just for a second. Just long enough to remind yourself—

This isn’t real. They were never yours.

You push the door open.

Law doesn’t look up immediately, focused on some report in front of him “You should be asleep.”

You smile, stepping closer “So should you.”

He exhales through his nose, amused but tired “What do you want?”

You want him to make this easy.

You want him to be cruel, to be distant, to remind you why you don’t belong here.

But he doesn’t.

He just leans back in his chair, looking at you like you matter. Like you’re his.

Your chest tightens “Just… wanted to check on you.”

A lie. A stupid, obvious lie. But Law doesn’t question it. Instead, he rubs his temple, sighing “You’re always worrying about me.”

“Someone has to.”

“You shouldn’t.”

You swallow “Why not?”

“Because…” He hesitates, fingers tapping against the desk “Because if you care too much, it’ll be harder to leave.”

Your heart stops.

For a second, you think—does he know?

But then he looks away, staring at some distant point, jaw tight.

And you realize—

He’s not talking about you, he's talking about himself.

Not you...

Himself.

Law is the one who doesn’t want you to leave.

And that’s when it hits you... He trusts you. Completely.

Even now, when you’re standing in his office, pretending to care while planning to betray him—

He still trusts you.

Something in your chest aches.

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t...

But when he finally looks back at you, exhaustion clear in his golden eyes, and says “Stay a little longer”

And you do.

You sit with him. You don’t steal anything. You don’t run. You just stay.

And for the first time, you think... Maybe you don’t want to leave at all.

You keep telling yourself this is the last night.

You don’t want it to be, but you’ve known it for days now.

Law trusts you. The crew… they think you belong.

And that’s exactly why you have to leave.

Because once you’ve broken through their walls, once you’ve made them care about you, there’s no going back.

No matter how much they make you laugh. No matter how much you start to care about them.

You’re not one of them. You’re just a pirate with an agenda. A thief. A liar. And if you’re not careful, you’ll lose everything.

The night now feels different.

You slip through the ship’s corridors, the quiet hum of the Polar Tang weirdly comforting as you move.

You can hear Shachi and Penguin arguing somewhere above deck, their voices muffled through the metal walls, and it almost makes you smile. Almost.

Law is in his office again. Alone. The perfect time.

You reach for the door, your hand already knowing the cold steel of the handle. But just as you touch it, your pulse quickens—an unease settling in your gut.

Something feels… off.

You hesitate, fingers still resting against the handle. It’s nothing. You’re just overthinking.

But before you can turn the handle, you hear it—the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Quiet but sure.

Law.

You freeze for a moment and then you start casually walking towards him.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You look up at him, trying to mask the panic in your eyes “Just passing by.”

Law eyes you, a soft, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips “You know, if you keep trying to lie to me, it won’t work. I can tell when you’re lying.”

You swallow, forced to keep your face neutral, even though the tension in your chest is nearly suffocating “You don’t know me that well...”

He steps closer, not threateningly, but with a quiet sort of presence that makes your heartbeat rise “I think I know you better than you think.”

The distance between you two is closing quickly, and you feel a small, dangerous thought flutter in your mind—What if I never leave?

But you shake it off. This has to happen.

You step back, hand sliding into your coat pocket “I think I’ll take a walk. Clear my head.”

Law studies you for a moment, his golden eyes narrowing “You’re not very good at hiding things, you know that?”

You don’t know how to answer that. You don’t know how to lie when it’s getting harder and harder to look at him “I’m going to get some fresh air now”.

You’re standing at the edge of the Polar Tang, staring into the horizon. The sun is setting, painting the sky in oranges and purples.

Tonight, the mission becomes more urgent. The Straw Hats, Kid, and Law’s crew are all moving forward, and you’re running out of time. You know you have to finish what you started.

But how can you betray them?

How can you betray him?

You can’t keep pretending anymore. The lines are blurring. You’re starting to get too close, and you’re terrified of what will happen if you don’t leave soon.

The weight of it is heavy on your shoulders.

But there’s another reason you’re hesitating.

You’ve been hiding your power from them.

Law’s crew doesn’t know what you can do. And you’ve been careful to keep it that way. Because if they knew—if they saw what you could really do—things would change.

And they would fear you... they would all fear you. It happened before. When you’ve used your abilities to their full extent, it’s left a trail of broken minds and empty memories. You can make someone forget an entire conversation, erase their last few hours, manipulate their desires, twist their thoughts—it’s all within your grasp.

And once you start, you can’t stop.

You don’t want to be the monster they think you are. You don’t want them to see you as a tool for their own ends.

So you keep it hidden. You’ve been careful. But now…

Now, you’re feeling the pressure, and it’s getting harder to hide.

You’re walking back to your room, lost in thought, when you hear footsteps behind you.

It’s Law again.

He’s been following you for a while now, and you can feel his eyes on you. You don’t turn around immediately. Instead, you continue walking, your heart pounding.

“You’ve been distant lately.” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it—like he’s trying to read you.

You stop, then turn to face him, trying to keep your expression neutral “I’m just tired. There’s a lot going on.”

Law’s gaze narrows. He doesn’t buy it “You’ve been acting weird ever since we got back to the island. What’s going on, y/n?”

For a moment, the weight of the situation crashes down on you. He’s too perceptive. He’s too close to figuring it out.

You take a step back, trying to distance yourself from him, both physically and emotionally “It’s nothing. I just—”

“I’m not asking you to explain everything,” Law interrupts “But if something’s wrong, you can talk to me. We’re... crewmates. I trust you.” He hesitated at that word, as if he wanted to say something else—something much deeper—that scared not only you but himself as well.

You two always had some sort of relationship that started as casual and continued that way, without really talking about your real feelings, as if it were a given.

Anyway his words hit you like a punch. You can’t breathe for a moment.

He trusts you, he likes you.

And you’ve been lying to him this whole time. You’ve been using him. Using his trust to get what you need.

But what if he’s right? What if you do need to tell him?

No. You can’t.

You can’t risk it.

You force a smile “I’m fine, really. Just… need some time to think. I’ll be okay.”

Law doesn’t look convinced, but he nods, though the worry in his eyes lingers “If you say so”

You watch him leave, feeling the weight of his words on your shoulders.

And then—just when you think you might break—you hear the voice in your mind.

It’s your old crew.

The ones who know you better than anyone else, or at least that's what you think.

It’s time. You don’t have much choice now, you have to do it NOW.

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softidiotsposts · 23 hours ago

Text

Anyone Can Cook

as the wise tale of ratatouille states "anyone can cook... but only the fearless can be great"

{Hello! Second fic, this time pure fluff for recovery! Warnings: kitchens being messy, mentions of bland food, cooking, mentions of the french and reader is french, picky eaters, incorrect cooking terms (probs) // word count: 2.2k}

masterlist

Leah always mentioned Ratatouille around you, like a little disease that you could never shake. The little blue rat named, Remy, had become a staple in your household- even earning you a nickname based on the rat. She thought herself funny, with you being French and all- even a native Parisian, which apparently made it even more of a gag. One that you didn't enjoy very much.

You didn't get it- the film, while good in a general sense and clearly a children's film- had no idea of what a professional kitchen actually looks like and you liked to point out the serious misconceptions to Leah every time she forced you to watch it.

"Seriously, Lee- I have had enough of this film!"

You grumble when Leah once again picks Ratatouille to watch on your weekly movie night- this makes it twice in a row that she's picked this. Making you absolutely devastated that watching Notting Hill was being put on hold, once again.

You wonder whether revoking her TV rights on film night would fix the problem but then remember that Leah could do absolutely anything and you'd probably let her do it anyway. Even if it's a chef rat based torture.

Still, it's actually getting to the point that you remember practically every single line of the film and the plot never surprises you. Not when Leah insists on watching it all the time.

You don't even think she actually enjoys the film enough to watch it all the time either so it must only be to see your reaction.

"But it's so good- really lets me get the idea of what you do at work," Leah giggles and presses start and the obnoxious "French" sounding music starts to play.

You groan, "This is not what I do."

"Yeah, yeah, Remy- You do some cooking with fancy things, I know."

"Actually, I-"

You're about to correct Leah with the most attitude you ever have when she presses her lips against yours and you melt like butter in a pan. She knows that you can never resist her when she has her soft lips against yours and it works without fail each time- even when you're terribly angry.

Leah smirks and wraps an arm around your shoulders. In turn you sigh, knowing that there is no winning when Leah has her mind set on something or whenever she uses her ultimate weapon.

It's around half way through the film, when the famous line is said that you come upon the genius idea. Taking Leah through cooking something that cannot be made via a machine- a cooking lesson with the most inept chef you've met.

The words anyone can cook are true... to a certain extent- It comes down to personal opinion mostly, what does one truly classify as cooking? In theory, if making toast with butter was considered cooking then Leah was the expert but when it came to the taste department- that is where your girlfriend falters.

Before Leah, when you still lived in France, you swore up and down you could never date anyone with the taste buds of a five year old- saying that it was the ultimate deal breaker. Now here you are, dating a famous Arsenal footballer that has the diet of a primary schooler.

At first, it had come as a shock- you went to a restaurant on your first date (not your ideal place for a date but Leah insisted) and she ordered the plainest thing on the menu. You were in such shock that you double checked the menu to see if you weren't misreading because who orders chicken nuggets at a Michelin star restaurant? And why did they even serve such a dish?

It also happened to be the moment that you fell head over heels for Leah, so you learned to get over the food very quickly.

Yet, this was a moment to teach Leah a lesson in taking you seriously... or maybe at least putting a stop to rewatching Ratatouille every single week.

So you take a week to prepare everything perfectly, you plan out what you're going to teach Leah to cook, even survey your kitchen staff before opening with a little questionnaire.

Then you make sure that all knives are sharpened, pots and pans are present- even though you're the only one who uses them- and that all other additional equipment is on hand if needed.

After all the prep work, you go out to the market early on Friday morning to buy a whole chicken since Leah is most likely to actually eat it after it's cooked- you're against wasting food in any circumstance. Then circle around to the other side for fresh vegetables. Once you have acquired all that is needed, you return home perfectly on time.

It leaves you enough time to get your chef coat that you wear when working and find the spare one you had borrowed for Leah, then set out all the ingredients on the marble countertops. It looks absolutely perfect and tickles that ocd part of you brilliantly.

In hindsight, you should have given Leah a slight pre-warning as to what the two of you were doing today but the expression on her face when she walks in is priceless- so priceless, you wish you had recorded it, so you can show it to all her teammates and your co-workers.

“What’s all this?” Leah says, clearly confused as she drops her training bag by the discarded sneakers.

You fan your hands out, presenting all the different things across the countertops with a large grin- just as large as Leah’s everytime she picks Ratatouille over any other mildly interesting film.

“This, my love, is your cooking crash course with the best chef in London.”

It’s true, the London’s society of restaurateurs had voted you best chef for the third year in a row and you couldn’t be happier to flex it in Leah’s face. It’s your personal victory and you like to compare it to her Euro win with England- just to watch her turn a little red as she fiercely defends it to be harder.

You'd normally agree but maybe she won’t be so quick to correct you next time though because as soon as she’s in the white coat with you (and after you had taken a photo of her that will be posted on instagram later.) the two of you are off, cooking what you think is going to be the driest chicken ever.

“No- not like that!”

You’re quick to correct her, it’s automatic and you feel as though it’s a little harsh but this is payback for making you suffer through a cartoon rat cooking.

You place a hand on top of hers and you swear she blushes just a bit but you ignore it, instead guiding her hand to correctly dismantle the chicken into its individual parts. After helping her with one side, you watch as she tries to complete the other- and to her credit, it is not a total disaster. The cuts are a little jagged and some of the chicken looks more like it’s been massacred rather than taken apart but albeit still looks edible.

Then she looks up at you with proud eyes and you forget about everything for a moment- all the mental gymnastics- and focus on her sweet smile that warms your heart. You come a little closer and give her a kiss on the cheek, careful not to touch her since you've just been cutting chicken.

"You're doing so well, sweetheart."

Maybe it's an exaggeration but the blush appears on Leah's cheeks after it is completely worth a white lie.

"Thanks, Remy, I have the best teacher," Leah wiggles her brows at you suggestively and you roll your eyes in return.

"Well, I do have three Michelin stars to my name," You grin and Leah smiles back at you.

Then you add, "It's like having three of those golden ball thingys that you all pine after."

Leah's face drops a bit, "You mean a ballon d'or?"

Your face lights up and you nod rapidly, "Yes, exactly!"

Leah pulls a face and furrows her brows, "Okay, baby... maybe we should focus on the cooking?"

You nod and turn your attention towards the dismantled chicken in front of the two of you- You resist the urge to cringe and put all the different parts into a bowl that you then place into the fridge.

"Let's wash hands before the next part."

The two of you take turns washing your hands, Leah flicking water at you playfully when it's her turn and you frowning when she does so.

"Take this seriously, Lee- In my kitchen-"

"Our kitchen-" She corrects you.

You raise your brows in question, "Who uses it the most?"

Leah suddenly fiddles with her coat and looks anywhere but you, you scoff but a smile finds it way to your face anyway- then you wrap an arm around her waist.

"Whatever, just focus- as if it were a match!"

Leah chuckles but steps up to the cutting board where various different vegetables are laid out with one of your personal knives that you bring to work besides it.

"So what now?" Leah asks, evident confusion in her voice.

"I want you to cut the peppers julienne and the carrots paysanne."

Leah looks at you with the most confused expression you've seen to date when the French leaves your mouth and all you can do is sigh.

"Peppers thin like matchsticks and the carrots into circles, please."

"Now that, I can understand," She laughs and begins to chop the peppers, first gutting them and throwing the seeds in the bin beside her then slicing them into strips.

You're leaning your head on her shoulder and your arms are wrapped loosely around her waist as you watch what she is doing- Leah's fingers are wrapped around the wooden handle and she guides the blade down each pepper part with some kind of precision.

You smile and encourage her by giving a light squeeze that you feel she leans into-

"Focus, that knife can cut your finger off."

You hear Leah scoff, "Maybe you shouldn't distract me then?"

You don't say anything nor do you move your arms away from her waist instead focus on the way she's slicing the various peppers- somehow, Leah begins to stray from the very thin slices into thick chucks without even acknowledging it.

You smile, "Stop for a second, Lee."

Leah pauses instantly and turns her head to look at you from where you stand behind her, she raises a brow in question and you grin in return. Then pick up a slice of pepper, holding it up for the two of you to inspect.

"Too thick, darling."

You press yourself closer to her back, forcing her to face the board again- this time you place your hands on top of hers, they are slightly warmer than yours and the heat immediately spreads, then begin to slice as you had instructed.

The rest of the vegetables go smoothly and you let them rest to the side before taking the chicken out of the fridge again-

"We are going to bake the legs, use the bones to make a sauce with the peppers and boil the carrots."

You explain, pointing to all the different elements as you do so and all Leah does is nod before stepping closer to you so she can wrap her arms around your neck.

"Yes, chef Remy," Leah chuckles when you scoff.

She gives you a quick kiss that you so desperately want to deepen but she pulls away before you can. Instead, she turns to the board and looks at you with the same focus you see on the pitch.

"Alright, let's start."

The rest of the evening goes... as well as you'd imagine- the kitchen is thankfully still standing, but in a state of utter disarray. The sauce that Leah made under your guidance had boiled over after she turned the temperature up, so that it would "cook faster". You didn't even get the chance to explain that it doesn't work like that, when a blob of sauce landed on the floor.

So there was a large spillage of sauce all over the stove and countertop but that was the least of your worries since the fire alarm had rang... once... twice... and a third time when the chicken was in the oven. Turns out that Leah cannot preheat an oven to the correct temperature either- so that chicken wasn't even dry, as you'd predicted, it was just simply not even there anymore.

All the meat had burned into crispy back sludge and the bones smelt disgusting- so disgusting that Leah had to stand on the balcony as you threw it out. Stating that she would throw up if she had to do it.

It turns out that nothing was safe from Leah's horrid cooking skill since the carrots suffered a death by over boiling- turning into mush rather than keeping their shape after the plunge in the steaming hot water of the pot.

In the end, Leah and you end up on the plush sofa with white styrofoam take out boxes in front of you and the normally tidy kitchen left in a rather untidy state, much to your dismay- but none of you had the energy to clean on an empty stomach.

You're shoveling food into your mouth when Leah picks up the remote and you dread what's coming. You see disney being opened and the pit in your stomach turns into sickness-

"So... Ratatouille?" Leah giggles and presses play, you music ringing out of the speakers.

"Darling- No, please!"

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #woso fanfics #leah williamson #arsenal wfc

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luvvcho · 2 days ago

Text

❅・WHISPER OF THE HEART

SYNOPSIS — The three times he tries to tell you, and the one time he actually does.

WC — (4k)

CONTENT: SFW, suggestiveness, angst , hurt/comfort, family issues/neglect, unrequited love (or so they think), alcohol/being drunk, self-worth issues/insecurity, mild jealousy, late-night drives & emotional talks, emotional repression, gojo deserves sleep but never gets it™, soft!gojo but he’s suffering in silence, gojo is really down bad.

a/n: highkey wrote this half asleep... but anyway i finished this faster than i thought! comment if you wanna be added to the taglist (just found out what this is lol) for this series :p m. list | < prev | next >

Somewhere near Tokyo, Japan 2009

Gojo lets the steering wheel glide through his fingers before tightening his grip on the expensive leather again. His palms are sweaty, his knuckles white, and the three hours of sleep he got the night before are finally catching up to him, creeping into the edges of his vision like static.

The plan for tonight had been simple: finish up paperwork at his father’s company, where he had been offered forced to start training straight out of high school. Then, he’d head home, maybe work out, maybe waste time bothering Suguru over the phone before eventually crashing. A mindless, predictable routine.

Instead, he finds himself almost an hour outside of Tokyo, in the middle of god knows where.

His foot eases off the gas slightly as he glances around, taking in the unfamiliar roads lined with trees and dim streetlights, their glow barely enough to cut through the darkness. The city was nowhere in sight. There were no high-rises, no neon billboards, no distant hum of traffic. Just the low rumble of his own engine and the occasional flicker of headlights from a passing car.

He exhales sharply, rubbing at his tired eyes with one hand while keeping the other steady on the wheel.

What the hell was he even doing out here?

The truth settles in his chest, heavy and uncomfortable. He didn’t want to drive this far. He didn’t want to end up here at all. But somehow, without thinking, he had ended up exactly where he always does when everything feels too much— wherever you are. Gojo got the call just as he was wrapping up work. You were drunk. Alone. Over an hour away from the city at some stupid college party in an abandoned warehouse.

He was exhausted. Three hours of sleep deep into a week where everything felt like too much. His head hurt from staring at contracts and numbers he didn’t care about, and honestly, the only thing getting him through the evening had been the promise of leftover Chinese food waiting for him in his fridge.

But when you called, he came. Right?

Even if his body screamed at him to go home. Even if he knew he shouldn’t always make it this easy for you. Even if the rational part of his brain told him that one day, this whole thing, his stupid highschool crush that never seemed to go away, was going to wreck him.

Still, he grabbed his keys, got in his car, and drove.

And now, almost an hour outside of Tokyo, in the middle of god-knows-where, he’s gripping the wheel with sweaty palms and trying not to let exhaustion drag him under.

He should be annoyed. Wants to be annoyed.

But all he can think about is you waiting, unsteady, needing him. And that, somehow, is enough to keep his foot pressed firm against the gas.

As he rounds the corner onto a dimly lit street, he hears it before he sees it. The deep bass of the music rattling the ground beneath his feet, the drunken laughter and shouts of students spilling out into the night.

His jaw tightens as he follows the noise, pulling up outside the warehouse. A mess of people lingers near the entrance, bodies swaying in a haze of alcohol and cigarette smoke. The place reeks of bad decisions and even worse company. And then he sees you.

You’re sitting on the curb, a little hunched over, your arms wrapped loosely around your knees. The party continues on behind you, people laughing, stumbling, yelling. But you’re separate from all of it.

For a second, relief washes over him. You’re safe. You’re not lost in that chaotic mess of bodies, not pressed against some guy who doesn’t know when to back off. You’re here. He exhales, tension leaving his shoulders. But then you look up.

Your tear-stained eyes meet his, mascara smudged at the corners, eyeliner streaking down your cheeks.

He steps out, shutting the door behind him, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he strolls over with a smirk. “Hey, gorgeous.”

You blink sluggishly at him before a slow, sleepy smile spreads across your lips. “Hi…” you mumble, then suddenly, as if remembering something, you groan and cover your face. “Don’t look at me. I’m not gorgeous right now.”

Gojo huffs out a laugh, crouching in front of you. “Bit late for that.”

You peek through your fingers, pout deepening. “Y’always see me like this.”

“Like what?” He tilts his head, playing dumb.

“Pathetic.”

Before he can respond, you push yourself to your feet. Not steadily, not gracefully, but you manage. Sort of? You take one step forward, then another, before your balance wavers.

Gojo moves to catch you, but you beat him to it, stumbling straight into him, arms wrapping lazily around his middle.

He stiffens for half a second.

Because shit.

Your dress clings to you, thin and weightless, like it was made to drive him insane. Not because he’s just noticing, but because he’s spent the last four years trying not to. But now, with you pressed up against him, with your warmth seeping through the fabric of his shirt, with the scent of whatever sweet perfume you’re wearing clouding his already exhausted brain.

God.

You sigh against his chest, voice muffled. “Can’t believe you actually came.”

Gojo blinks. Focuses. Ignores the way his hands instinctively settle at your waist. “Yeah, well,” he says, clearing his throat, “I am at your beck and call”

You lean back just enough to look up at him, blinking slowly like it takes effort.

“Alright, princess,” he says, “Think you can walk the rest of the way, or am I carrying you?”

You scoff, swaying slightly. “I can walk.”

“Right. Cuz that little show just now was real convincing.”

You narrow your eyes at him, then take one defiant step forward before immediately tripping over… nothing??

Gojo catches your wrist with ease, smirking.

And despite your protests, you let him guide you, his fingers firm and steady around yours. He opens the car door, steadying you as you lower yourself into the back seat. You move sluggishly, like even the smallest effort is too much, and he frowns as he reaches over to buckle you in. Your purse gets placed beside you before he shuts the door and circles around to his side, slipping into the driver’s seat with a sigh.

The engine hums to life, but for a second, he doesn’t move.

His gaze lingers on you through the rearview mirror. You’re curled up against the window, lashes heavy, lips slightly parted, your breath fogging up the glass. His fingers flex against the steering wheel, something unspoken settling in his chest before he shakes it off and shifts the car into reverse, backing away from the warehouse.

You’ve never been like this before.

Sure, he’s seen you tipsy; laughing a little louder, cheeks pink with warmth, words spilling out without a filter. But this? This is different. This is the first time you’ve ever let yourself fall this far.

The GPS screen glows softly as he punches in your address, the familiar route flashing across the screen. – ETA: 1:03

He exhales, rolling his shoulders as he glances at you again.

“Don’t throw up in my car, please.”

You hum in response, eyes barely cracking open. “M’not gonna,” you mumble, but your voice wobbles, breaking slightly at the end.

He sighs, shaking his head. “Just… if you do feel sick, tell me, alright?”

You mumble something incoherent, and he decides to take it as a yes.

The road stretches out ahead of him, empty and quiet. He tightens his grip on the wheel, keeping his eyes forward.

Because if he looks at you too long, if he lets himself really think about how easily you trust him, how you always call him when you need someone, he’s going to lose the battle he’s been fighting for years.

“So,” he says, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the car. “We gonna talk about why you’ve been crying?”

You shift against the seat, barely opening your eyes. “Can’t,” you mumble. “Too embarrassing.”

Gojo snorts. “C’mon. I’ve known you since we were fourteen. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you do worse.”

You hum, considering it, as the car smoothly merges onto the highway. The dim lights shrink behind you, fading into the distance, leaving only the soft glow of passing streetlights and the rhythmic sound of tires against pavement.

For a while, you don’t say anything, and Gojo doesn’t push. He just lets the silence stretch, waiting.

“Remember that guy I told you about?”

He gulps. “The one in your language seminar?”

“Yeah.” He already doesn’t like where this is going.

You continue, voice softer now, like saying it out loud makes it more real. “He was there tonight. He invited me, actually.”

Gojo’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel, knuckles paling.

“I thought maybe… I dunno.” Your voice is slightly more steady now. “I thought something was there between us.”

His jaw clenches. His grip on the wheel tightens. He doesn’t want to ask, but he does anyway. “And?”

Your breath hitches slightly, and when you speak again, your voice is quieter. “And I tried to kiss him.”

Gojo freezes, his gaze flickering back to you in the mirror.

His heart stalls for half a second before it kicks back in, pounding hard against his ribs. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry.

You keep going, oblivious to the way his grip on the steering wheel turns bone-white.

“But he pulled away,” you admit. “Said he doesn’t… doesn’t like kissing.” You scoff, shaking your head. “And I believed him. I told him it was fine, that we could still be friends.”

Gojo exhales slowly through his nose, forcing his expression to stay neutral. Fucking idiot, he thinks.

He should say something. He wants to say something. But you’re still talking.

“He said he’d be back. Told me to wait.” Your voice wavers, and he knows what’s coming before you even say it.

“He never came back,” you slur. “So I went looking for him.”

He doesn’t realize how hard he’s pressing the gas pedal until the speedometer ticks a little higher than it should. He forces himself to ease off, fingers aching from how tight he’s gripping the wheel.

“And?” he asks, voice low, strained.

You let out a small, bitter laugh. “Found him making out with some girl in the back.”

Silence.

Gojo breathes in slow, exhales through his nose. He should say something, anything. He should tell you that guy’s a fucking idiot, tell you that you deserve better, tell you that you should’ve never wasted your time on him.

Instead, what comes out is:

“What a dumbass.”

You hum in agreement, but it’s empty, hollow. “Guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

Gojo risks a glance in the rearview mirror. You’re staring out the window, fingers absently picking at the hem of your dress, your shoulders curled inward like you’re trying to disappear.

And fuck.

He hates this. Hates that he wasn’t there to stop it from happening, hates that he has to sit here and listen to you talk about someone else like this. Hates that you kissed him (or tried to). Hates that some guy got to have that moment, got to see the way you look just before a kiss, got to be the one you wanted tonight, even just for a second.

Most of all, he hates that you’re hurting, and he can’t do a damn thing about it.

His throat tightens, his chest burning, aching, twisting in ways he doesn’t know how to fix.

He should’ve been the one. “Toru.”

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, sharp but fragile, like you’re barely holding yourself together.

His heart lurches at the sound. Because it’s you, because it’s the nickname only you call him.

But then you sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold window. “You’re a guy, right?”

Gojo snorts, the tension in his chest easing just enough for him to fall back into his usual teasing. “Last I checked.”

“Then tell me.” Your voice is quieter now, almost hesitant. You shift slightly, facing him from the back seat, eyes hazy but still searching. “What’s wrong with me?”

“What?”

You let out a breathy, humorless laugh. “Why has no one ever liked me?”

His throat goes dry.

“Not once,” you continue. “No guys in high school ever asked me out. The ones I liked never liked me back. And now this?” You gesture vaguely, frustration laced in your voice. “I just don’t get it. What is it about me that’s so… unloveable?”

Gojo’s entire body locks up.

Because.. are you serious?

You, who he has spent the last four years trying not to love too much, not to touch too long, not to stare at like you hung the damn moon— you actually think that?

His fingers tighten so hard around the wheel he thinks he might snap it in half.

“What kind of dumbass logic is that?” he mutters.

You frown, shoulders curling inward. “It’s not dumbass logic, Satoru, it’s just—”

“No,” he cuts you off, voice sharper than he intended. His jaw clenches as he forces himself to take a breath. “You don’t get to say that.”

Your lips press together, confused, vulnerable in a way that makes his chest ache.

Gojo doesn’t know how to do this. He doesn’t know how to tell you the truth without telling you. So he exhales, trying to steady himself, trying to be careful with the words he chooses next.

“You ever think,” he starts, voice quieter now, steadier, gentler, “that maybe it’s not you that’s the problem?”

You blink at him through the mirror. “Then what is it?”

Gojo grips the wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white.

It’s not that no one likes you, he wants to say. You just keep liking the wrong guy.

But instead, he exhales, rolling his shoulders like he can shake the weight off. Keeps his gaze fixed on the road. Forces a smirk.

“I dunno,” he lies, voice light, easy. “Maybe guys are just fucking stupid.”

You huff out a small laugh, but it’s tired, empty. “Guess so.”

And Gojo doesn’t say anything else. Because if he does, if he so much as breathes the wrong way, he’s afraid the words he’s been swallowing for four years might just slip out.

“It’s just…” You hesitate, fingers curling in your lap. “No, never mind.”

Gojo sighs, glancing at you through the mirror. “Nope. Not letting you do that. Tell me.”

You exhale, rolling your head against the window, staring out at the passing lights. “You wouldn’t get it,” you mumble. “You’ve had a girlfriend before. Everyone I know has been in a relationship at least once.”

He flinches at the reminder. The girl he dated in senior year (if you could even call it that). A little over a month, barely anything. He never liked her much, never felt the way he should have. Maybe because no matter how hard he tried, she wasn’t you.

“I just don’t know why I can’t get anyone to like me,” you admit, voice quieter now, like you’re talking more to yourself than to him. “Like, what am I doing wrong?”

Gojo exhales, staring at the road ahead. And before he can stop himself, before he can think better of it—

“You know I love you, right?”

Silence. Then, a small, sleepy smile tugs at your lips.

“I love you too,” you murmur. “You’re my best friend.”

He forces himself to chuckle, to keep his voice light. “Your bestest friend.”

You hum in agreement, stretching slightly before slumping deeper into the seat. A second passes, then another, and when Gojo glances at the mirror again, your eyes are drooping, lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

He waits for you to say something else, but instead, you sigh, shifting until your head rests against the window.

“…What were we talking about again?” you mumble, voice thick with sleep.

“Nothing important,” Gojo lets out a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Go to sleep, princess, I’ll wake you up when we’re home.”

You hum once more, barely conscious now, and within seconds, your breathing evens out.

It’s a little past one when Gojo pulls up in front of your apartment building. The streets are quiet now, the world settled into a lull, save for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional flicker of a passing car.

He shifts the car into park and exhales, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. You’re curled up against the window, lips slightly parted, face relaxed in the soft glow of the streetlights. Peaceful. Innocent. Completely unaware of the way he’s been drowning in his own thoughts for the past hour.

Gojo drums his fingers against the steering wheel before turning in his seat, reaching back to nudge your shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, voice softer than usual. “We’re here.”

You stir slightly but don’t wake.

He tries again, fingers brushing against your cheek this time. “C’mon, I know you’re tired, but I’m not carrying you all the way upstairs.”

You groan, turning away from him, burrowing deeper into the seat.

He huffs, shaking his head with a smirk before unbuckling your seatbelt for you. “Alright, princess, up you go.”

Reluctantly, you blink your eyes open, slow and sluggish. “Wha’ time is it?” you mumble.

“Too late for you to still be passed out in my car,” he teases. “Let’s go.”

You manage to get out, swaying slightly the moment your feet hit the pavement. Without thinking, Gojo’s hand finds the small of your back, steadying you before you can tip over completely.

“Yeah, no,” he mutters, tightening his grip. “You’re gonna break something if I let you go up alone.”

You don’t argue, just let him guide you into the building, down the quiet hallway to your apartment. When you finally reach your door, you fumble for your keys, missing the lock twice before Gojo sighs and takes them from your hand, slotting the key in effortlessly.

You step inside, blinking sleepily, and Gojo lingers at the threshold.

“You got it from here?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

You pause, looking over your shoulder at him. “Wait for me?”

His brows lift slightly. “You sure you don’t just want to pass out in your dress?”

You glare at him, well, as much as you can in your drunken haze, before kicking off your shoes and stumbling toward your closet. “Give me five minutes,” you mumble, already pulling out a set of pajamas.

Gojo sighs but steps inside, leaning against the wall just outside your bedroom door as you disappear inside. He hears the soft rustling of fabric, the muffled sounds of you grumbling under your breath, the faint thud of something hitting the floor.

A few minutes later, you shuffle back out, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts, eyes barely open.

He pushes off the wall, stepping toward you. “Alright, come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He leads you to the edge of your mattress. You sit down, and before you can do much else, he’s tugging the blankets over you, tucking you in with practiced ease.

Just as he turns to leave, your fingers weakly grab at his sleeve.

“Toru,” you mumble, voice barely above a whisper.

He stills, glancing down at you. “Yeah?”

You blink up at him, cheeks slightly flushed, though he can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or exhaustion. “Forgot to take my makeup off.”

Gojo exhales a small laugh, shaking his head. “Of course you did.”

He leaves for a moment, disappearing into your bathroom before returning with a makeup wipe. He kneels beside your bed, pulling you up slightly to sit, and tilts your chin with a gentle touch.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs.

You obey without question, too tired to protest. His fingers brush against your cheek as he wipes away the remnants of mascara and foundation, careful, steady. He’s never done this before, but somehow, he knows exactly how to be gentle with you.

He watches as the tension in your face fades, as your breathing evens out under his touch. He lingers, just for a second longer than necessary, before finally tossing the wipe aside.

“There,” he mutters. “All clean.”

Your eyes flutter open slightly, a lazy, sleepy smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Toru.”

He swallows, something warm and aching curling in his chest.

“…Yeah,” he says, voice quieter now. “Anytime.”

He stands to leave, but your fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Stay?” you ask softly. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

Gojo exhales, rubbing a tired hand over his face. For a second, he hesitates, then, he drops onto the floor beside your bed. “Yeah, okay,” he murmurs. “Go to sleep.”

And for the first time all night, you listen to him.

The next morning, you wake up to a dull, throbbing headache and the faint taste of regret lingering on your tongue. The room is dim, soft morning light barely filtering through the curtains, and for a moment, everything feels disoriented. Until you shift slightly and feel the warmth of a blanket tucked snugly around you.

Blinking against the ache behind your eyes, you turn your head and freeze.

Gojo is asleep on the floor, his long limbs sprawled out awkwardly, his head resting at the foot of your bed. His white hair is tousled, one arm draped lazily over his face, and his breathing is slow, even, completely at peace.

Your heart clenches, but before you can process why, a particularly sharp pang of pain shoots through your skull, and you let out a quiet groan.

At the sound, Gojo stirs, blinking blearily up at you before stretching with a lazy yawn. “Morning, sunshine,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. “How’s the hangover?”

“Terrible,” you croak, burying your face into your pillow. “Why are you on the floor?”

Gojo pushes himself up with a groan, rolling his shoulders. “Because someone wouldn’t let me leave,” he teases, ruffling his hair. “Which, by the way, you owe me for. My back is killing me.”

You groan again, rolling onto your side to look at him properly. “Ugh. Please tell me I didn’t do anything too embarrassing last night.”

Gojo pauses for half a second.

He remembers it all. The way you clung to him outside the party, the way you called yourself unloveable, the way you looked up at him through tired, glossy eyes and told him you loved him— as a friend.

But you don’t remember.

And for the first time in his life, Gojo is glad you don’t.

“Nah,” he lies smoothly, standing up and stretching. “You were a total angel.”

You squint at him. “You’re lying.”

He grins. “Guess you’ll never know.”

You groan, flopping dramatically back onto your pillows. “You’re the worst.”

Gojo snorts. “And yet, I’m the one getting you water and headache meds.”

That catches your attention. You peek up at him, skeptical. “You’re actually taking care of me?”

He places a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “What, like I wouldn’t?”

You narrow your eyes. “I feel like this is a trap.”

He laughs, already making his way to the kitchen. “Shut up and let me be a good friend for once.”

A few minutes later, he returns with a glass of water and a couple of pills, setting them down on your nightstand. You mumble a half-hearted thanks before sitting up, wincing as you swallow them down.

Gojo watches, hands on his hips, then huffs dramatically. “Alright, move over.”

You blink at him. “Huh?”

He gestures toward the bed. “Move. I spent the night on the floor like a peasant. I’m reclaiming my dignity.”

You laugh, groggy but amused, before shuffling over to make space. “Fine, but if you kick me in your sleep, I’m shoving you off.”

Gojo flops onto the mattress beside you with a relieved sigh, settling into your pillows like he belongs there. “Please, I am an excellent bedmate.”

You roll your eyes but don’t protest when he drapes an arm over his face, already half-asleep again.

And as your headache fades and sleep starts to pull you under again, you don’t think too much about how comfortable this feels.

But Gojo does. And he wonders how much longer he can pretend this is enough.

pls do not copy, repost, or claim my work as your own :) if you have any issues with what i wrote or noticed any mistakes, let me know privately. thank you for reading <3

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ihavethedreamies · 3 days ago

Text

Desert Dogs | Mingyu [NSFW]

Kim Mingyu - Seventeen

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: S.Coups x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronounces Used, Pet Names (Puppy), Size Kink, Dacryphilia, Degradation, BDSM elements, Breeding Kink (Kinda), Swearing, Spit, Breathplay, Oral (M! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-fucking, Rough, Spanking, Cockbulge (oops), Hard Dom! Mingyu, Unprotected Sex (Don't), Mingyu calls the reader some not nice things but it's a kink so she's okay with it

Author's Note: The plot of this didn't go exactly as I originally planned, but no one's here for plot anyway... This also doesn't have a ton of sci-fi elements, not like the others, but once again, not here for substance, just smut

-> Series Hub <-

-> Hoshi's <-

-> Woozi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

-> S.Coup's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

“Ah!? Nonononono-“ You shriek when your rover lets out a loud clunk, followed by several more clangs, a rattle, then it starts to slow. You startle when the tire then blows, the entire back right of the vehicle nearly collapsing and you fall out of your seat, landing against the passenger door with an ‘oof’. You wait until the rover completely stops and even longer for it to stop making noise. When you realize the small creaks will continue, you manage to haul yourself up, reaching for your bag that got snagged on the pedal under the steering wheel.

“Fuck!” You fall back against the glass with a sharp hiss when the rover suddenly tips on its side, a puff of black smoke releasing from the front of the rover. You lay on the door of your rover, regretting your life decisions, wondering why the hell you thought it would be okay to go through an area that clearly had sand worms. Not only did it spit hot acid at the hull of your rover, the acid soaked into the sand had eaten through the thick rubber of the tires. The inside was getting hot fast, because obviously the air conditioning was off if the whole rover was. With a grunt, you get up and crawl up to the back of your rover to get your duffle bag and you throw the back door open, tossing your bags out, then crawl out and land on the sand with a grunt. You stand looking up at the sky for a good two or three minutes…it’s cloudy. Before you can even sigh at your bad luck, the sky roars with thunder and a downpour starts, the hot sky-water soaking through your thin clothes fast.

“You have GOT to be fucking kidding me!” You shout at the sky, and it replies with another loud crack of thunder right as lightning streaks across the sky. Looking around, you’re in the middle of nowhere, miles from even the nearest oasis, let alone a town. You decide it’s better to walk in the rain in the desert than when it was dry and sunny, but you also know the sand could quickly get dangerous, so you have to get to the road fast to avoid any quicksand. Hauling your bag up onto your back, the rain soaking into the burlap makes it even heavier as it soaks everything inside. Because of course, why would a bag meant for desert travel be waterproof? You manage to get back to the road without sinking down into the sandy pits of hell and you debate on whether you should head back to the town you were last in, or go the other direction and just hope you find somewhere. You would use your holo-tracker, but you had broken it a few days prior…Well you didn’t break it, you were savagely attacked by a sand mouse who wanted to steal your lunch and when it jumped at you again, you yeeted the device at it to scare it away and it smashed right into a rock.

You walk for nearly an hour before you see any signs of civilization and it’s only a sign telling you it was going to be another good 40 minutes before you got to anything. You and you’re things are soaked, and it doesn’t look like the rain will stop anytime soon, but then - of course - it wouldn’t for another good three months… Adjusting your bag once again, you continue down the road, getting more and more tired. When you finally see something in the distance, you aren’t for sure what it is, maybe another rover? An oasis? No, it’s in the middle of road… You stop dead in your tracks, eyes narrowing, trying to make it out, not sure if your vision was blurry from exhaustion or the water dripping off your eyelashes. Before you can figure it out, thunder strikes again, and you see a flash of light before you black out.

When you wake up, you can still hear the rain, but it’s splattering onto a thatched roof as well as the sand. Grunting, you sit up, feeling very sore, most likely from your rover tipping over in protest of you trying to drive it. You were lying on a wicker cot, and you look around, trying to figure out where you were. You see an oasis out the archway entrance of the little hut you’re in, but there’s none of the tell-tale markers of an oasis outpost. Standing with a groan, you turn to look around, seeing you’re in a sunroom of sorts, another doorway covered with a curtain leading further in. Someone obviously found you, and you hope it’s a really hot guy rather than some sweet old lady-

“Oh, you’re awake.” Your rescuer had pulled the curtain back to stand in the doorway. Hot guy. Very hot guy. Hottest guy you’ve ever seen-

“U-uh…yeah.” You can’t help but gape at him. He was almost as tall as the doorway and built in the best possible way. His face is devastatingly handsome, but his slightly concerned face reminds you more of a puppy than anything.

“You’re lucky I came when I did, you just flopped down onto the road.” He comes over to you, looking over you to see if there was anything visibly wrong.

“Um…h-how long was I out?”

“About 32 hours.”

“WHAT?!” He smiles softly, trying to be reassuring.

“Well, I would imagine anyone who gets that close to getting struck by lightning would be out for a while.”

“I-I…I got struck by lightning?”

“No! No, you just got really, really close… I’m Mingyu.” He scrambles to pull the pendant on his necklace up out of his black tank top, showing an upside-down triangle that’s vaguely familiar.

“I’m a Ranger, I-I promise I don’t have any weird motives.” You honestly wouldn’t care if he did, because you’re starting to get some unsavory motives…

“Oh, uh, (Y/N). I’m a scavenger.” You didn’t know a lot about the Rangers past that they’re do-gooders and vigilantes who are known for helping those in need. It actually did make you feel better.

“What company?”

“I’m technically a freelancer; I work for the Assembly.”

“How did you get out in the middle of the desert like that?”

“My rover…fell apart.”

“Sand worms?”

“Yeah…” You sigh, realizing not only were you without your rover, but it was also your transportation for work. You do have insurance, but you doubt it could get you a whole new one, and paying the difference would clean out your savings.

“Where are you from?”

“Morgran Town.”

“I’m going past there when I leave in a few days, I can drop you off?”

“Really? I…You don’t mind me staying here till you can?”

“Not at all, I can’t leave anyway. Neither of us can.”

“Huh?”

“Apparently, it’s some kind of freak storm that only comes every 70 years or so. Planet-wide and as the rain keeps going, the sand gets dangerous, and it heats back up causing horrible lightning.”

“Great.”

“Well, come on in and eat, you must be hungry.” He smiles and you wonder how someone so hot can be so cute. You follow behind him, feeling absolutely tiny and when you get further into his hut, you realize it’s much bigger than you first thought. And it’s pretty homey. You sit down at the dining table in the room you first enter and your stomach growls as you catch the scent of what he made. You aren’t 100% sure what it is, some kind of rice dish with meat, egg and veggies, but at that point you’d eat just about anything. He huffs a small laugh as he watches you start to eat, clearly famished, and he sits down across from you to eat in a much more civilized manner.

“So why do you live out here by yourself?” You ask him around your food, not thinking he’ll mind your lack of manners. You know them, but using them is a different story.

“Technically I don’t. This is one of the several places us Rangers have spread out through the desert for any of us to use while we travel. We really only have on permanent base, but Hoshi has his own place. Jeonghan won’t let him keep his tiger inside.

“He has a tiger? You know what, I don’t wanna know. How may rangers are there?”

“Here on S.V.T there’s thirteen.”

“So what do you do?”

“I’m the mechanic, I fix things, and I also work with my partner to make machines and mechs and stuff.”

“Why aren’t you with your partner?”

“He’s on some bounty and he told me I’d just get in the way…” Mingyu pouts slightly and you can’t help but melt further, he really is so freaking cute despite being massive. A big ole’ puppy dog.

“I’m not sure I can pay you back…I need all the money I have to get a new rover.”

“I don’t need any money; it’s part of my duty to help.”

“Are you sure?” You low-key, high-key had hoped it would be the stereotypical erotica theme of ‘then pay with your body’ but no, he just had to be genuinely sweet.

Because he was so kind in cooking and letting you stay, you insist on doing the dishes and you would offer to clean the hut as well, but it was already immaculate. The sun is starting to set, and he lights some lanterns when, suddenly, the storm gets even worse, the thunder and lightning intensifying.

“We might have to go downstairs…” He mutters.

“Couldn’t that flood?”

“Normally, but it’s more of a bunker-“ A bright flash of lightning closely followed by a sharp crack of thunder cuts him off and the wind speeds up, whistling through the hut.

“Let’s go down.”

“Yeah, yes, yes please.” You grab your bags and follow him into the back hall, and he lifts a wooden panel from the floor and presses his hand against a reader of the sealed door and it hisses open, a metal staircase leading down. You follow him down and the automatic lights turn on as the door seals shut behind you and he leads you further in. The low ceiling of the tunnel forces him to lean forward slightly but you have no trouble, and once you get through another sealed door, the metal-walled bunker opens up into a very nice area. It resembles a studio-style apartment with only the bathroom being separate, and there is even a kitchen.

“We sometimes use this area to house people that need help, mostly slaves that have gotten away.”

“Ah…” You look around, seeing there is only one bed…and not even a couch.

“Um… I can sleep in the armchair.” You offer and he smiles, shaking his head.

“No need.” He goes over to the bed and taps a button with his foot, the bottom drawer sliding out with another mattress.

“Oh. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Mingyu~”

“You’re welcome.”

While the storm is muffled in the bunker, as it gets worse, you can start to hear it. You’re awoken when a loud clatter triggers some kind of alarm. He startles awake as well, stumbling out of bed to go to the terminal. You take the chance to ogle him, he must’ve shed his shirt after you had fallen asleep because he was just in his pants. You could only see his back, but you were nearly salivating already. The alarm finally stops, and he turns the lights on dimly, continuing to look over the terminal, then he sighs.

“What?”

“The hut is…gone.”

“Gone? How?”

“It’s…on fire. Kinda. The rain is putting it out, but I think the metal of the bunker attracted the lightning, so the hut go struck.”

“Oh.”

“We might be in here for a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s food down here.” He smiles and you sigh in relief.

“Though…the extranet antenna was…on the roof.”

“So…?”

“No entertainment…Not the screen kind.”

“Hm…” You hum, looking around. It’s evident neither of you will get back to sleep, plus it’s only a few hours from morning anyway. You glance back at him, and he’s turned around; your jaw literally drops seeing him.

“Holy fuck…” You say, not quietly at all. He instantly blushes bright red, the tips of his ears the most red.

“S-sorry, I’ll put a shirt on-“

“No! God, no! You’re…fuck-“ You get up off the bed and go over to him. He takes the chance to look over you as well, you’d shed your clothes to sleep as well, just in a breast-band and shorts since all of your other clothes were still in your bag, probably still soaked. You get close enough you can hear him swallow hard, and his blush is starting to seep down over his collar bone. You notice his hand reach out, then he hesitates, then pulls back. You take a step closer, looking up at him. It’s then you notice very thin lines running all over his body, almost imperceptible.

“What are these?” You take the chance to touch him, running your index finger over the line, tracing the pattern over his chest. He lets out a shuddering breath, the muscle under your finger twitching a bit.

“Um…I have cybernetics.”

“You do?”

“Yeah…”

“What for?”

“They…make me stronger… and uh…”

“And what~?” You take another step closer, your single finger tracing becoming all of your fingers.

“Um…build my stamina…”

“So you can…just keep going~?” Your second hand joins and you step even closer, your warm breath on his skin from your proximity making his own hitch.

“I-I guess, yeah…” You take a final step, so your chest presses against his upper stomach, the size difference making your core heat up alone. He can’t help but gawk at just how small you look, and the look on your face-

“C-Can I?” He reaches for you again and you huff with a smirk.

“Please~” Mingyu swallows again and his hand comes up, gently cupping your jaw in his hand, nearly covering the whole half of his face. The softness of the gesture takes you back a bit, and while it’s sweet, you don’t want sweet. You want him to rail you into next week-

You gasp out of soft moan when his hand moves, going down to your neck, his thumb gently pressing against your windpipe and you see the soft, nervous look in his eyes harden into raw heat.

“You think you can handle me?” His voice lowers further, and you swallow hard at the sudden shift in his demeanor. Mingyu acted a bit nervous and shy before, but it’s also obvious he knows how sexy he is, the effect he has…

“You think your tiny cunt can handle my cock?” He presses closer to you, and you gasp, feeling his growing hard-on pressing against your stomach. Even without him being so much bigger, his cock was huge.

“I don’t care if it can’t-“ You’re cut off when he forces your head back with his hand under your chin, the slight pressure on your throat makes your head swim. You open your mouth a bit to get more air in, face going red, heart racing, cunt throbbing. You whimper when he spits down into your mouth and he smirks deviously as you eagerly swallow. You squeak when he shoves you down, your legs buckling till your kneeling, your face right in front of his hard cock straining against his pants. You watch with a dumb gawk on your face as his hands go to the fly of his pants and he shoves both them and his boxers off, his dick slapping against his stomach then bobs against your cheek and your eyes run over him, nearly salivating.

“O-oh…”

“Open.” His order brokers no argument and you eagerly do, tongue slightly out. His smirk grows and he grabs his cock at the base and places the angry head on your tongue. The taste of his skin makes your mouth water more and you whine as you suck the head into your mouth, your jaw slightly protesting. You swirl your tongue over the tip of his dick and your hands go to the floor to keep your balance. His strong fingers weave into your hair, tugging on it and you gag softly when he thrusts, his cock hitting the back of your throat suddenly. You barely have the time to suck air in harshly through your nose before his girth is down your throat, your nose pressing to his groin. You moan around his cock, the vibration making him groan.

“Can’t believe I found myself such an eager little slut~” Mingyu chuckles, hips pulling back so you can suck in air then he fucks back down your throat, causing you to gag softly. You swallow over and over to get used to him, the restriction of your air just making your cunt soak faster, gummy walls clenching at the thought of his fat cock splitting you in half-

“You like my cock that much? You’re drooling like a fucking dog.” He huffs, his other hands going to your hair as well and you focus on breathing when you can as he fucks your face, your chin a mess of spit and pre.

“Bet you’d like to be fucked like one too. Like a little bitch needing to get bred.” You can’t help but moan at the thought, just the idea of him filling you with his hot cum sending burning heat down to your core.

“How’d you like if I kept you, huh? My pretty little puppy, collar and all, ready to suck me off and take my cock whenever I want~?” He chuckles darkly and despite not knowing if he was being serious, his debauched statements just fuel the fire in your own body.

“Be a good puppy and take my cum, yeah~? Swallow it all~” He groans, burying his cock into your throat as far as he can and your eyes nearly roll back as he pumps his hot jizz down your gullet, your vision spotting from need air, as well as the orgasm thudding through your needy cunt. You feel tears prick your eyes and down your cheeks at the overwhelming sensations and he pulls back so you can breathe, half his cock still in your mouth as it still spurts out ropes of cum. Mingyu finally pulls his cock out of your mouth, still half hard, messy with your spit and his cum, just like your face. You look up at him with a hazy, fucked out expression and he huffs a slightly condescending laugh. You gasp when he shoves his foot between your legs, pressing up against your cunt through your thin sleeping shorts, able to feel your wet through the fabric.

“You’re a such a slut; did I seriously get you off cumming down your throat?”

“Y-Yes…” You reply hoarsely and he scoffs.

“I bet you liked my cum, yeah?” You nod in reply.

“Then get on the bed, ass in the air, I’ll breed you, little bitch~” He grins as you scramble to do so, legs a little wobbly and climb onto the bed, then shove your face into the pillow, ass in the air. Neither of you care that your messy face is getting all over the pillowcase and you gasp when he kneels behind you, reaching forward and tears your breast band off. When he said that the cybernetics made him stronger, you weren’t expecting him to rip leather. You’re less surprised when your linen shorts that you wear as underwear are also torn off, but what you aren’t expecting is the head of his cock already at your soaking cunt. Your breath leaves you and your body spasms in shock, cunt fluttering as he fucks his cock into you immediately, his girth lighting your gummy walls on fire at the sudden stretch.

“Safe word is ‘cactus’.” He tells you and you nod. He at least lets you get somewhat used to him, the head of his cock pushing at your cervix, the sting burns but you can’t help but love it. After only about 40 seconds, when he doesn’t hear you say the word, he starts to fuck you. The air you had just caught back leaves you again and he leans over you, hands gripping the rungs of the headboard, the top banging against the wall in rhythm with his hips. Skin slaps through the room and he huffs a laugh at the mess you’ve already made on his cock and groin, your wet dripping from your cunt as it struggles to take his cock.

“M-Mingyu-!” You gasp, your next orgasm coming startlingly fast. You immediately fall over the edge, clit burning, when he smacks your ass hard, you can feel the outline of his hand as it swiftly turns red on your skin.

“The fuck you call me?”

“S-Sir, s-sorry-“

“Nah, not that either.” He spanks the other cheek, and your fingers bury into the sheets, mind already starting to fade as all you can focus on is him rearranging your guts.

“M-Master-“

“Good girl~” He purrs, his hips stuttering slightly before he’s ball’s deep inside you, filling you with more of his hot cum. Your eyes nearly cross as the force of him painting your insides white, so much that it spills out of your pussy around where he’s inside you, your own release dripping down both your thighs as well. Your body goes limp, and his still hard cock slides out of you as your hips fall to the bed. You lay flat there for just a few seconds, brain trying to bring you back to reality, body twitching. You somewhat register him lifting your leg up to his hip, turning you partially onto your side before he’s back inside you, the new angle letting the fat head of this dick to pound at your weak spot over and over.

“Fuck, master~!” You squeal, giggling deliriously, blushing even like you’re totally drunk on his cock.

“You like being my sweet little slut, huh? Like when I fuck you like a bitch?”

“Yes~!” You nearly start to babble in protest when his hips halt but he’s just rolling you onto your back, still buried inside you and then slings your knees over his elbows, folding you in half, his hand coming to grip your throat again. He squeezes just right, your head swimming, but able to breathe enough, and he huffs when your cunt tightens further and more of your release spurts out of your cunt and over both of you, his fat cock just barreling through it. The sharp sting of overstimulation crests, making tears spill over your cheeks and he groans at the sight, leaning down and licking up the tears on your face. The sharp burning crests and fades to please again and he groans, his thrusts growing shallow, buried deep and just battering the tip of his cock against your back wall over and over. Mingyu’s hand leaves your throat, and you gasp as full airflow returns to you, then he shoves his thumb into your mouth, holding it open. He smirks as you reach up to grip at his wrist, but make no move to try and move him, nearly hugging his arm.

“Such a good bitch, tongue out, panting for her master. If you had a tail, it’d be wagging, huh, puppy?” You nod with a whine, spit dripping from the corner of your mouth and he presses his thumb down on the back of your tongue. He pulls his hand back, moving your legs from over his elbows so he can instead sling them over his shoulders, your ankles by his ears. He leans back a bit, forcing your lower back to prop up and he shoves a pillow under you. He groans as he continues to fuck a mess of cum out of your cunt, watching as your lower stomach bulges, your tiny body struggling to accommodate him.

Mingyu keeps going for literal hours, fucking orgasm after orgasm from you, your cunt nearly numb, your head blank, the bed an absolute mess. He had only cum two other times, changing position over and over, bending you over the bed, holding you up over him to thrust up into you, up against the wall, even in the air. Right before he shoves his cock back into your abused hole for the nth time, you tap out.

“C-cactus-!” You gasp out and he immediately snaps out of it, pulling back. He gently rolls you over onto your back, his concerned face softening his dominant stupor immediately.

“Oh, oh…puppy, I’m sorry, are you hurting?”

“S-sore…” you heave out and he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I got carried away-“ You shake your head, humming softly.

“You’re okay~ I just…can’t keep going… I don’t think I can even walk…” He huffs a soft laugh, looking over you at the mess of both of your fluids and the bruises his hands left on your hips.

“You know…”

“Hm?”

“You kept calling be a bitch in heat…but you fucked me like a dog too~” He blinks at you in a bit of shock, then he bursts out into laughter.

“I guess I did~”

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Seventeen Master List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

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sibsteria · 2 days ago

Note

hi! just saw your 2025 rec list and that you write for spencer! i beg for a spence best friends/coworkers to lovers short lil sm sm (oneshot) if you're okay w that! also idk if you have a smosh/spencer series in the works but if you ever write one i can confirm I'll be your biggest fan love your fics can't wait to read more :)

@people-arelovers

Must be love on the brain...

Spencer Agnew x fem!Reader

Masterlist

a/n yes! absolutely, hello, hi, here I am- writing most of this in line for Pitbull tickets, dale (also combining two requests here, and I will absolutely be doing a series at some point fyi!)

Warnings/Content: alcohol, light angst, embarrassment, hinted pining, kissing, not proofread

Summary: A work's night out leads to drunken confessions...

''You don't have to drink to have a good time, y'know?'' Shayne shrugs at Spencer, his decision wary on joining the small group as he wasn't quite feeling up to a rager.

''There's not really a point in going to a bar if I don't drink, I'll just be surrounded by drunk people and feeling left out.'' He chuckles, he probably won't come anyway, his gaming chair is calling his name pretty loudly.

''Y/n is coming.'' Shayne throws it out there, he knew of Spencer's pining feelings towards the girl, a last ditch effort to get him to think about coming.

''Yeah, and I'll be boring and not drinking and- it's stupid.'' He runs a hand through his hair, thinking about you, how much he does in fact, love being around you.

''You know she doesn't care about that stuff?'' Shayne could almost feel himself rolling his eyes at his friend, how stubborn.

''Yeah...'' That's just one reason why he liked you so much, why you were his best friend.

Meanwhile, you were sat at your desk, having a similar conversation.

''I honestly don't think he's going to come.'' You smile, popping a piece of homemade hard candy Garrett had made.

''He might?'' Tommy smirks at you, he knew how you felt about the curly haired man.

''When has he ever, ever, come to a bar with us?'' You giggle at Tommy, shaking your head.

''There's a first time for everything.'' He brings up his hands, one forming an '0' and the other forming an 'I' before he puts them tog-

''Tommy! No!'' You whisper yell, you never know who could be around.

''Oh, come on, you want it. Live a little, Y/n, sweep that little nerd off his feet.'' He raises his eyebrows as if to say 'think about it'.

''Someone as funny and pretty and as cool as him wouldn't even think twice about me, we are just friends.'' You sigh at your own reality, how you wish it wasn't true, but beggars can't be choosers and at least you get to see his face nearly every day.

''You are so stupid.'' He saw the way he looked at you, as if you had hung the stars just for him, why are you always so stubborn? At least you and Spencer have that in common.

''Shut up!'' You squint at him, grumbling before you turn to your computer, time to get some work done before you can go home and shower.

You were sat at your vanity mirror, painstakingly applying some makeup so you look some variation of decent- the bags under your eyes telling a story of fatigue.

Your phone beeps out a message.

Message from: Spimgler

< Hey, sitting this one out, have a great time- miss you! >

Of course, but you couldn't blame him, a night in bed sounds a lot better than unwanted mingling with strangers right now but Tommy would have your head if you didn't come.

You down a glass of wine for your nerves whilst getting ready, you hate getting hit on and it’s not uncommon.

“Told you he wouldn’t come.” You grin at Tommy, you being right once again, although you wish you weren’t- maybe if he was here you wouldn’t feel so out of your depth.

“Yeah, whatever.” Tommy hands you a drink, he had been there a little while before you arrived.

The drunker you let yourself get, the more your mind wouldn’t let up on thoughts of Spencer. The smell of his shampoo as he leans into on one of the couches, the softness of his touch as hugs you when it all gets a bit too much to handle, the teasing smiles he shot at you like bullets when he tries to make you laugh. You get more and more sour as the night progresses, shooting down each potent bomb of liquor and strongly poured drinks.

As expected, just as you had unfortunately lost your group, you were approached by a man. But long gone was the slightly sober discomfort and combative attitude you would have once wore, a drunken mess of social embarrassment lies in its place.

“You know, my friend Spencer is so pretty-“ You hiccup, leaning with your elbow on the bar and cheek in your hand.

“Um, I asked if you wanted to dance with me?” The guy raises an eyebrow at you.

“I want to dance with Spencer! God, I miss him so damn much, I love him…I’m- I love him a lot-“ You frown, sniffling a little, why wasn’t he here right now.

“Okay…” He looks around the room, wondering if you were here all alone.

“Need to see him so bad, can you call Spencer?” You yawn, giggling as you imagine his adorable little voice.

“Not-not really, I don’t know this dude-“ He’s urgently scanning around now, he swore he had seen you with some people- a lanky brunette, a shorter blonde guy, a blonder girl, two dark haired ladies who were screaming at the table together where he first saw you-

“He’s so smart, y’know? So pretty and God, I wish he knew it. He’s funny…too funny for me- I love Spence-“ The man you were currently borderline harassing came into quick thanks as the lanky brunette neared you, clearly recognising you and starts to laugh at your words.

“Okay, okay. C’mon Y/n, stop professing your love for Spencer to strangers.” Tommy mouths a ‘sorry’ at the guy and he just half smiles, awkwardly- it was his choice to approach the plastered girl at the bar, anyways.

“Spencer…” You whine, dragged away by Tommy, your cheeks are flushed and you can’t even walk straight.

“Want me to call him, to come get you?” Although you harboured strong, strong feelings for the man- he knew he was also your best friend and could handle you in this state, and would also drop anything to help you. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to meddle and progress things along- a hope you would possibly spill your guts to him. It was no secret that Spencer returned your feelings, except to you.

“Yes!” You scream in excitement, he walks you outside for some fresh air, you slump down on the pavement. Tommy calls Spencer from your phone, he’s more likely to pause whatever game he is playing to answer your call.

“Y/n, hey, you oka-“ His voice holds a happy tone as he answered.

“It’s Tommy, hey look, could you- stop lying down on the dirty street!” He yelps at you as you don’t feel like sitting upright anymore, “-could you come and pick her up? She’s a bit of a mess and honestly past the point of enjoying herself, just want her home safe.

“Be there in ten.” Is all he says before buttoning the phone down, Tommy sighing in relief- he just didn’t want you to end your hurt- you were actually pretty funny right now all things considered.

“Y/n, honey, he’s on his way.” He sits next to you, placing an arm around your shoulder, comforting you.

“Who?” You look at his completely quizzical.

“Spencer-“

“Spencer’s coming?!” You smile, dreamily, squealing a little, oh yeah, this was going to be a perfect disaster.

It had been just under ten minutes as he pulls up a metre or so away from the two of them, getting out of his car and heading straight for his best friend.

“Thank you, thank you! She needs a whole lotta’ rest.” Tommy stands up and tried to bring you up with him but you whine out, not wanting to move just yet. “I am so sorry for what you may be about to go through.” Although he’s smiling, indicating he is not sorry at all.

“Have a good night.” Spencer nods curtly, locking his car just in case before sitting next to you.

“When is Spencer getting here?” You mumble into your arms, head in your knees.

“Peekaboo.” An airy tone to his voice as your head shoots up.

“Oh- Spence!” You shriek, wrapping your arms around him tightly, though you had done it many times before- he still couldn’t help his heart as it beat a little faster.

“H-hey, beautiful, you doing okay?” You giggle as he talks to you, beautiful, he says.

“You’re the beautiful one, stupid.” You lay your head on his shoulder

“Oh, yeah?” He’s caught a little off guard.

“Mhm, pretty, pretty…” You sigh as you nuzzle into him, jesus, how much did you drink.

“I’m pretty to you?” He automatically goes for the teasing avenue, combatting how he feels with a joke.

“Obviously, I wouldn’t be in love with you if you weren’t.” You scoff as if it’s common knowledge, his mouth gapes open, he’s…what?

“What?” He repeats his thoughts.

“What?” You yawn, still happy as a baby on his shoulder.

“You just said- you’re in love with me?” He asks it as a question, you probably just mean a friendly ‘I love you’.

“Yeah…but you don’t like me back though, so it’s silly of me. You’re just so pretty and amazing and- I’ve loved you since I first met you…” You look as if you’re falling asleep, Spencer’s head is a flurry full of confusion- he feels like he should be hyperventilating right now.

“I…” This was definitely a talk for sober Y/n, no matter how much he wanted to tell her he loved her right now.

“It’s okay…I’m used to it.” It’s like you can’t quite recognise this is reality and not a nightly dream of yours.

“I’ll drive you home? Or-“

“Can we have a sleep over?” You blink up at him, wondering why you are seeing three Spencers.

“Sure…” He bites his lip, you were extremely cute like this, usually you would be so stubborn and nonchalant and cool.

The drive back is surprisingly uneventful, you practically passed out in the passenger seat, head against the window after he had told you you cant hug him whilst he drives.

“Your car smells good…smells like you.” You smiled at nothing, a patter of rain beginning to hits the windows, lulling you into serenity. Jesus, you can’t keep saying that shit whilst he’s driving, now all he wants to do is look at you and listen to the adoring words. Was how he smelled comforting to you?

He had managed to get you through his front door easier than expected, you were willing to follow his every word.

He gave you some privacy as you haphazardly dressed yourself up in a backup pair of pyjamas you had left at his house, he hears a few bangs and nearly opens the door to check on you but ultimately decides maybe that’s not the best idea- he wants to respect your privacy as always.

“Spence!” You shout, laying on his bed already, you were so ready to sleep.

“You ready to go to sleep? You got a brutal hangover waiting for you tomorrow.” He grins at you as your pout into the air.

“Ugh.”

“I’ll let you settle down.” He whispers, attempting to walk away. You slept in the same bed more than once before, whenever you had slept over but…he just knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep next to you tonight- repeating what you had said to him over and over again, overthinking and-

“Can you stay a little? ‘Till I fall asleep?” How can he say no as your sweet, tired voice tweets up at him.

“Till you fall asleep.” He confirms, his heard stammering as he moves to sit next to you, back against the headboard as you lay, you inch towards him touching his arm with you nose and he wants to explode. He can feel the air you breathe through your nose, hitting his arm as you slowly fell into slumber, a subtle smile on your face.

What was going to happen tomorrow?

Your head throbs as you stir, already feeling the nausea set in, your tongue sticking to your mouth due to how dehydrated you were. You smell something that you recognise, something that’s not your house…oh, fuck.

Memories from last night violently hammer at your head, or was that just the hangover? You fucked up so hard, you told him you love him? What were you thinking, clearly you weren’t at all.

Your eyes blink open, his bedside table catching your attention. There stood a big glass of water, some painkillers and…a note?

Good morning,

If you are reading this, take these pills before you leave the room, I can hear your headache from here.

-S

Was he going to be angry? Upset? Uncomfortable? Oh, god, you have ruined your whole relationship with him.

You do as he had said, slamming the pain relief in your mouth before washing the pills down with two thirds of the glass.

Maybe you could sneak out, facing your bad, bad drunk decisions seemed like a nightmare.

You creep to the pile of your stuff in the corner of the room, slowly changing into your clothes, not putting your shoes on yet just in case.

You pry open the door, peeking at the space outside, no sign of Spencer.

You quietly move towards the front door, you had gotten away with it- a loud creak sounds from a floorboard beneath you- nearly, you had nearly gotten away with it?

“Y/n?” He follows the sound to its source. “Are you…leaving?” He can’t blame you for wanting to.

“Um, sorry. It’s just-“

“Yeah, I know, you didn’t mean it- it’s okay.” Forever the respectful man he was, he never lashes out, never got angry- he just…pretended he was okay.

“Mean what?” You want to know what he thought, if you had embarrassed yourself as much as you thought.

“Look, last night, you were drunk and it’s fine- you were just being the best friend you are- you don’t need to feel sorry about it.”

“Spence….” You put down your shoes and your bag.

“You said you were in love with me, but you didn’t mean it like that, it’s okay.” The look in his eyes told you he was not okay, was he…upset?

“I-“

“Just- I’ll drive you home, okay?” He half smiles, trying to look normal, the room goes silent as you decide it’s all or nothing.

“I meant it…by the way.” You hold your breath, if you had read the situation wrong you basically just doubled down on the burning crash that was your friendship.

“You- what?” He stops putting his shoes on, looking up at you.

“I…I am, in love with you…” Your chest heaves a little faster as the tension in the room was becoming too much.

“You…are?” Shit, you had misread it.

“Okay, no, it’s fine- just drive me home, forget what I said-“

“I love you. Too, I love you too.” He can’t meet your eyes yet, everything was up in the air, a pressure on your chest.

“No, I- I love you. Like, I want to be the person you see every morning, the person you wake up to. I am so in love with you it hurts, you are gorgeous and smart and funny and-“

“Stop.” Your breath hitches, was this it now?

“Y/n…I think you are the most beautiful person I have ever had the chance to know, to be best friends with and to…fall in love with. You are the first thought I have in the morning and the last one I have before I fall asleep. All I do is think of you, what is she doing? Is she happy? I bet she looks pretty right now, like all the time. Since you spilled coffee all over Damien on your first day- both of your awkward apologies and the both of you being too kind to be angry at the situation. You…I need you.” He’s standing in front of you now, looking down at you with those deep-set eyes, it was also a perk you him that you were shorter than him- a rarity. You can’t speak as you relay everything he said, all you want to do is kiss him, and he is thinking the same.

You tentatively step closer, his head leans down, aching slow and unsure, your hands come up to cup his cheek and steady yourself on his shoulder as you lean up. Your lips meet and it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve tasted, that could just be the Kickstart, but he kisses you with such care and emotion- you have never been kissed like this. Or maybe you have but it’s never felt like this- like it was meant to happen, like you were made for him. His hands delicately find their home resting on your hips, your mouths moving together- kissing him deeper.

Neither of you seem to want to stop but eventually it gets difficult to breath through just your noses.

“So…”

He smiles at you, he had a feeling his life was just about to become beautiful.

a/n update! guess who won the ticketmaster war is seeing pitbull ft shaggy in concert? me, dale xo

#smosh spencer fanfiction #smosh spencer x reader #spencer agnew imagines #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #smosh #smosh spencer imagine #smosh x reader #smosh fanfiction #spencer agnew imagine #spencer agnew fanfiction

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burntheedges · 1 day ago

Text

Awake

Marcus Moreno x f!reader | 6.6k | 18+ | ao3

summary: Marcus is fine. He wakes up, goes to work, goes home, goes to sleep, and then does it all over again, just the same, every day. And he's fine.

And then he meets you.

a/n: this is for @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality's writing through the seasons challenge! you can see my prompt and moodboard here (which I borrowed from for the header). I had the prompt ("to live with the delusion of being found") banging around in my head for days and it just screams Marcus to me. thank you @katareyoudrilling for being a wonderful beta, as always.

tags/warnings: angst, fluff, flirting, meet cute, Missy is a fun teenager, texting, coffee shop, touching, I named Miracle Guy Rob and Missy's mom Melissa, self deprecation (Marcus), shifting POV, kissing, grinding, reader has no description other than being a woman and having a job, no age mentioned but just FYI I was imagining her in her 30s or 40s, first date, coffee, pet names (beautiful, sweetheart), some Spanish (mija, calmate)

...

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

Missy had picked it out – it wasn’t one of the sounds that came with his phone. She’d used some app to make it play part of “Takin’ Care of Business,” but only on weekdays. He didn’t know how to change it. He probably could have looked it up but he wouldn’t, anyway – she’d said it made her think of him going to work every day. So now it made him think of her, and at least he had that thought, if nothing else, to warm him as he got out of bed.

(His mood never quite matched the song’s, but at least he had a goal to work towards. Right?)

So he woke up when the piano came in, and sighed as he swung his legs off the bed. He sat there for a moment, letting Randy Bachman sing to him about getting to work by nine.

He sighed again.

He turned off the alarm, finally, and stood. He did not look in the mirror on top of his dresser as he walked past it into the bathroom.

Marcus showered and dressed on autopilot, mind almost blank. As always he just picked the next slacks, jacket, and shirt, whatever was at the front of his closet. He’d done this so many times, on so many mornings, it barely required him to be awake.

When the coffee maker beeped, he found himself standing fully dressed in his kitchen without really noticing that he’d walked there. He poured his coffee – just a splash of cream – and sat at the kitchen table to turn on the news. As he let the sound of yet another day wash over him, he texted Missy, smiling when she responded almost instantly.

Marcus 08:27 AM: Good morning, mija

Missy 08:28 AM: dad 08:28 AM: why did I sign up for a 9am dad 08:29 AM: i’m dying

Marcus 8:30 AM: if I’m remembering correctly, you had “big gym plans”

Missy 8:32 AM: never listen to me about gym plans again 8:33 AM: what was I thinkinggggg 😩

Marcus let his amusement at Missy’s texts buoy him to the sink and then out to his car, feeling a bit lighter.

Like his morning routine at home, he barely noticed the drive to work. It was the same as always, and in 17 minutes he was getting out of his parked car at HQ. He felt his shoulders stiffen as he stepped through the double doors into the lobby.

On his floor, Marcus walked to the kitchen first to drop off his lunch. He nodded at the same people he walked past every morning. Then he sat at his desk, answered his emails, and attended some meetings about upcoming missions for the current active teams. On his way to the break room for lunch he nodded at the same people again. After lunch he attended a few more meetings, dodged Rob in the hallway when he asked about Marcus’ weekend, and answered more emails.

At 5pm he stood up from his desk and walked to his car, nodding to the same people again on his way out.

Marcus drove home on autopilot, and 17 minutes later he found himself walking into his kitchen from the garage. He sighed as he opened the fridge, and decided dinner would be leftovers. Again.

Since it was Monday, and Missy wouldn’t be calling, he sat on the couch and turned the TV to the Food Network. He let the soothing sounds of low stakes cooking problems take over and crowd himself out of his own head.

10pm found Marcus in bed, setting his alarm. He got comfortable, stretched out his back, which always seemed to be aching these days, and pointedly did not think about the fact that he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done at work that day.

As he fell asleep, he thought idly that he was glad his time as an active member of the Heroics had taught him how to fall asleep anywhere, if nothing else.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

His morning unfolded almost identically to Monday’s, aside from the fact that Missy wasn’t awake yet to respond to his good morning text – her Tuesday classes started at 11:30 and she usually took full advantage of the chance to sleep in.

As he sat and sipped his coffee, something on the news briefly caught his interest, until he realized it was something that had already crossed his desk the week before.

He sighed.

Marcus drove to work – 17 minutes – and went through the motions of another day at the office.

He ate lunch with Rob in his office, which had bigger windows than Marcus’s, and got his regular updates on how Rob’s family was doing (Peter had gone off to college, too, and they commiserated about their kids abandoning them).

Rob, as always, asked Marcus how he was doing with a knowing look that Marcus, as always, pointedly ignored.

“I’m fine,” he said, as always, stabbing a piece of chicken in his tupperware dish with a bit too much force. He was always fine. What else would he be?

Rob eyed him. “Are you?”

Marcus chewed and did not sigh. “Yes, I am,” he promised.

Rob squinted, and Marcus squinted back. That made his friend laugh, at least, and they changed the subject.

Marcus left the office a bit quicker that night and 17 minutes later he walked in the house just as his phone rang.

“Hi, mija,” he said, smiling as he picked up his daughter’s regular Tuesday phone call. She had a long walk home from her last class and usually called him to pass the time.

He let her voice wash over him, soothing the tension that had crept into his shoulders when Rob had squinted at him over lunch. Missy’s updates on her classes and her friends carried him through reheating his leftovers and collapsing on the couch. By the time she had to go he was more relaxed than he’d been in days. (Since her last call, probably, he did not let himself think, and made sure to tell her he loved her before she hung up.)

With a bit more help from the Food Network, Marcus successfully distracted himself until it was time for bed.

…

On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

He got dressed, went to work, nodded at his coworkers, answered emails, ate lunch, nodded a bit more, and went home.

And through all of it, he was fine.

He was fine.

…

Marcus spent Saturday at home doing chores, and Sunday at the farmer’s market and the grocery store. Missy called once, and Rob texted him to invite him to Corina’s birthday dinner in two weeks. Marcus added it to his calendar and took care not to notice how every other weekend was empty.

…

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

He moved automatically from his bed to his bathroom and then to his closet, showering and dressing as usual.

He walked downstairs, thinking idly about the meetings he had scheduled in the morning, and the training he needed to plan for the newest crop of Heroics.

Lost in thought, Marcus stood holding an empty mug in front of his coffee maker for almost 5 minutes before he realized it hadn’t beeped.

He blinked and looked down, confused.

There was no coffee in the pot. He realized he hadn’t smelled the coffee as he usually did while he was getting ready. He looked it over and saw that the setting was right, but there was no coffee.

He frowned.

Poking at the coffee maker revealed that the screen wouldn’t come on, even though it was plugged in. A few more moments of tinkering and he knew – it was broken.

Marcus sighed and checked the time – 8:10 AM. He texted Missy.

Marcus 08:10 AM: Mija, I am sorry to report that after a long and fruitful life, our beloved Mr. Coffee has percolated his last brew. May he rest in peace 🪦

Missy 08:12 AM: nooo!! not Mr. Coffee 💔 08:13 AM: your best friend, taken from us too soon 08:13 AM: how will you go on without him

He smiled. He knew she’d be able to cheer him up.

Marcus 08:15 AM: with difficulty, but I will persevere

Missy 08:17 AM: wait! 08:17 AM: dad you should go to the Bean Box!! I know you never actually did when I told you to 08:18 AM: it’s on your way to work dad you have to go 08:18 AM: it’s the best the coffee is so good 08:19 AM: daaaaaad

Marcus 08:20 AM: ok ok, calmate 08:20 AM: I’m going

Missy 08:22 AM: good! and get a scone to eat in my honor 08:23 AM: I miss those scones

15 minutes later Marcus pulled up in front of the small facade of the Bean Box and couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly the type of place Missy would like – cozy and colorful, with lots of tables stuffed inside and flower boxes overflowing along the bottom of each of the large windows in the front.

When he stepped inside, the smell of freshly roasted coffee filled his nose and he almost stopped in the doorway. It smelled good.

He joined the long line for coffee and scrolled idly on his phone, checking the news, a bit oblivious to his surroundings.

So he was surprised when his phone almost flew out of his hand a few moments later. Someone knocked into him from behind and he stumbled forward. He made some sort of noise as he juggled his phone between his hands, just barely catching it before it could fall.

“Good catch,” an admiring voice said from behind him. He turned as they continued, “Wait, I mean, I’m so sorry about that! Shit.”

Marcus turned around fully and almost froze. A woman was standing there with her hands out, as if she had just caught her balance, grimacing at him. A very beautiful woman, he couldn’t help but notice. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but she was just as beautiful as she’d been a moment before. His eyes darted across her features but he didn’t let himself sweep his gaze over the rest of her. He didn’t want to be a creep.

Suddenly it felt much warmer in the coffee shop, and he was very aware of how close they were standing to each other.

“Shit,” she repeated. “Sorry, again. I tripped,” she pointed at the leg of a chair that was almost in the aisle, “and ended up sort of falling on you. But I’m glad you caught your phone! Nice catch, really.” She looked down and he did, too. She’d dropped her bag and some of her belongings had spilled out. She sighed. “Shit.”

Marcus was crouching before he’d even thought about bending down. “It’s alright,” he said, smiling a bit. “No harm done. Sorry about your stuff.” he gathered some papers and held them out to her. She had followed him down, kneeling as she gathered her things back into her bag.

She took them and said, “wait, you don’t have to do that! I already almost knocked you over, you don't have to help me.”

He shook his head. “Like I said, it’s fine.” He realized she had all of her things but they were both still crouching. He stood and offered her his hand to help her up.

She slid her hand into his easily and his breath caught as she said, “well, thank you, and sorry, again.” Her hand was warm and he ignored the way his fingers tingled at her touch.

She was smiling, then, and Marcus couldn’t help but notice that her smile was very pretty. So pretty he had to drag his eyes away from it, trying not to stare.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this. There was warmth in his chest and a floaty feeling in his stomach and the tips of his fingers were still tingling where they’d touched hers. It felt almost foreign, it had been so long. He felt lightheaded.

“Please don’t worry about it.” He looked around and realized the line had moved a little, so he took a step forward to move with it. She did the same. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

She gave her name and he smiled. It suited her.

“Can I buy you an apology coffee?” she asked, looking hopeful. “I still feel bad.”

He shook his head, laughing. “No, it’s really ok. I mean it.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, looking suddenly thoughtful and amused. “I’ve never had anyone turn down a free cup of coffee from here before. You must be new.”

Marcus was smiling. He realized he might have been smiling at her the whole time, and felt a bit of wonder at that. “It’s that obvious? I am. New, I mean. My daughter has been telling me to come here for months but this is my first time.”

Her eyebrows raised and he hoped he was imagining the way her expression closed off a bit. But in the next moment he wondered at himself for even thinking of it. Don’t be a fool, he warned himself, even as he felt the urge to explain. She’s just nice, she’s not interested.

“She has good taste,” she said lightly. “What took you so long, then?”

Marcus sighed and gave in to the urge. “It’s just me at home, with her away at college, and I’ve just been torturing my ancient coffee maker by keeping it alive. But it took its last dying breaths this morning and I was forced to venture out for coffee, instead.”

She nodded solemnly. “Rest in peace, ancient coffee maker.” The jokingly serious look on her face reminded him of the way Missy would tease him and he couldn’t help but smile. Again.

Suddenly Marcus realized they’d made it to the front of the line. He wasn’t ready to order, or to stop talking to this beautiful woman who had almost knocked him over.

“I guess I’m up,” he said, as the person in front of him started to pay.

He tried not to watch as she bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment. “Well, Marcus,” she said, voice light again. “I’m here most mornings, so you’ll have to come back and let me know if you liked it.”

Marcus felt his cheeks warm and he smiled. “Ok then. I’ll try.”

For the rest of the day, he found he couldn’t quite wipe that smile off of his face, not even when Rob teased him about it.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, already smiling.

He glanced at himself in the mirror as he got dressed, and was stunned to see his face looking so relaxed for once.

Is that all it takes? He wondered, amused at his own expense. A bit of flirting and a pretty smile? But it wasn’t just about her pretty smile, he knew that. He’d felt something the day before, something he hadn’t felt in years.

Something he wanted to feel again.

He’d told Missy he liked her coffee shop the night before and promised he’d be back (and that he’d get a scone, this time). So he hurried downstairs and out to his car as soon as he was dressed, ready to find out if he would run into her again.

When he pulled up outside The Bean Box, he took a deep, slow breath. Sure, he was a teensy bit invested. Something about her had kindled a tiny fire in his chest. But he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. He shouldn’t. Right?

But as he stepped inside, he realized he needn’t have worried. She was standing by the door, looking just as stunning as the day before. And she was watching the people coming in.

When she saw him, she grinned. “I knew you’d be back! It’s good, right?”

Marcus nodded as felt a smile stretch across his face. “It is. And I promised my daughter I’d get a scone this time.”

Her eyes lit up. He couldn’t look away. “Oh, you definitely need to get a scone. They’re amazing.”

She stepped into line next to him and he noticed they both kept their bodies turned towards each other as they talked.

“You said she’s in college, right?” She tilted her head at him. Marcus tried not to trace the line of her neck with his eyes. “Is she enjoying it?”

He nodded. “She’s a freshman, but she settled in quick. She’s so independent, I knew she would.” He looked down, smiling as he thought about his daughter, and told her about Missy’s major. “She blows me away, honestly.”

When he looked back up he found her smiling softly at him. “Sounds like she’s got a great dad.”

Marcus smiled and ducked his head again. “I miss her, but it helps that she’s doing so well. And we talk a lot. More than I expected, really. Figured she’d be too busy.”

He felt something warm on his arm and realized she had reached out and lightly rested her hand on his forearm. He blinked and felt a flush rise in his cheeks and start to travel down his neck. He suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing a sweater over his dress shirt, wished he could feel her hand on his skin again.

“I’d say that means you’re definitely a great dad.” She was still smiling. “Take it from me, and my memories of college. I definitely didn’t talk to my parents that much.” She laughed and Marcus felt his breath catch at the way it lit up her features. Her hand was still on his arm and he fought the urge to cover it with his own, to keep it there.

He shook himself and nodded. “It’s been just us for so long. We are pretty close.”

She squeezed his arm lightly and he felt a shiver run up his spine. When her hand fell away, he missed it immediately. “Has it been tough? Adjusting without her.”

Marcus sighed and nodded. “My house is so empty now.” He laughed, ruefully. “I swear, it echoes in there. Never expected I would miss all the noise.”

She nodded. “I’ve got nieces and nephews, and they’re so loud, but I always miss it when they’re gone. It’s not the same, but I get that.”

As the line moved forward, she told him more about her sister’s kids and their antics. Marcus found himself smiling and laughing more than he had outside of a call with Missy in… months. Longer? He didn’t want to think about it, not when he was caught up in feeling like this instead.

By the time they reached the front of the line, he was only wishing they had more time.

She hesitated when it was almost her turn to step up to the counter. “Did you get your coffee maker fixed?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’s fixable, and honestly it deserves to rest. It lived a long life.”

She laughed and then bit her lip. It drew his eyes like a magnet.

“So, will I see you again tomorrow?” She looked hopeful and he wanted so badly to read into it.

“I think so,” he agreed, smiling a bit shyly.

She grinned at him. “Good.”

He carried the memory of that grin with him through the rest of the day, until Rob managed to weasel the whole story out of him over lunch. He told his friend about the way they’d met and how she’d been standing inside the door that morning.

But somehow telling it to someone else had Marcus second guessing the whole thing.

“I’m probably just imagining it.” He was standing with Rob in the hall by his office, coming back from lunch, wishing it had never come up.

“Well, I think you should go back and you should talk to her again.” Rob furrowed his brow at Marcus and poked him in the arm.

Marcus frowned and brushed his hand away. “Rob, she’s probably not interested.”

His friend frowned back, exaggerating the expression until it was comical. “Sounded like she was. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Marcus shook his head and grimaced. “Why would she be? I’m a sad, boring, almost 50-year old man who does nothing but go to work and wait for his daughter to call him. I’m not delusional, ok, I know no one wants to deal with that. Especially not someone like her.”

Rob sighed. He reached out and grabbed Marcus’ shoulders and squeezed. “Marcus. Listen to me. You are a smart, funny, and caring man who loves his daughter and his friends. You deserve more, ok? Tell me you know that.”

Marcus shook his head. “Know what?”

“That it’s not a delusion to think you deserve to be loved.”

“Loved?” Marcus shook his head and tried not to scoff. “We’re just talking about someone I met at a coffee shop.” He ignored that his heart had started to beat just a bit faster when he thought about her, just like it had in The Bean Box when she’d touched his arm. And when she’d smiled at him, looking so hopeful that she’d see him again.

Rob raised his eyebrows. “Someone you can’t stop thinking about, and who flirted with you and got you out of your shell. Right?”

Marcus sighed.

“Marcus,” Rob said, voice careful, and Marcus knew what was coming next. “Is this about Melissa? I–”

He shook his head, interrupting. “No, I mean, not really. You know I’ve gone on dates, well, a while ago. It’s just…” He closed his eyes. “It’s been so long, and since Missy left for college, I’ve just been…” he trailed off, looking for the right word. “Asleep, I think. It’s so quiet. Every day is the same.”

Marcus opened his eyes to find his best friend frowning at him.

“I get it. But it sounds like this shook you out of that routine, right?” Marcus sighed. “Marcus, look, just– promise me you won’t just dismiss it, ok? Give it a chance.”

He wanted to scrub his hands over his eyes but Rob was still holding his shoulders. “How do I do that?”

Rob shrugged. “You’ve already run into her twice. Just keep going back. See what happens.”

Marcus closed his eyes and finally broke out of his friend’s hold. He leaned against the wall behind him. “Ok. Ok, I can do that.”

Rob let out a long breath, clearly relieved. “Good. And just let yourself enjoy it, ok? I know you know how to flirt. Even if you’re rusty.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and shoved Rob back a bit. “Yeah, yeah. I thought you wanted me to go back, huh? Stop making me nervous.”

Rob waved his hand, laughing. “You’re already nervous. But I’ve seen you flirt, man, even if it’s been a minute. I believe in you.”

At least someone did.

…

On Wednesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, and immediately felt nervous.

He paused in front of his closet, actually looking at his clothes for the first time in a long time. Should I wear this shirt? Or a sweater? He hesitated, cursed himself for wasting time, and then grabbed the next shirt and slacks, as always.

He walked straight past his kitchen on his way to his car, only glancing at the clock. 08:14 AM.

Missy 08:17 AM: are you going to the Bean Box again 08:18 AM: have I created a monster

Marcus 08:27 AM: just pulled up 08:27 AM: I’ll eat a scone for you

Missy 08:28 AM: mail me one 🙏

Marcus 08:29 AM: counter offer: I’ll buy you one when you’re home next

Missy 08:29 AM: deal

Marcus was smiling at his phone as he opened the door into the coffee shop, belatedly looking up at his surroundings after he stepped inside. He didn’t see her and started to frown.

“Let me guess – your daughter?”

He turned to find her behind him, leaning against the high table by the door. She gestured at his phone with a smile. He nodded. “How’d you know?”

She stepped closer and looked down at his phone. “You were smiling at it as you walked in.”

He couldn’t help but smile again. “She asked me to mail her a scone.”

She laughed and Marcus watched the way it changed her face. Beautiful.

“Would it survive?” She grinned and fell into step next to him in the line for coffee.

He shook his head. “No, but I promised I’d buy her one next time she’s home.”

“When’s that?”

“Spring break.”

She frowned sympathetically. “So far away! That’s too bad.”

Marcus sighed, agreeing. “It is, but it helps knowing that she’s having such a great time.”

She looked thoughtful and nudged Marcus with her shoulder. He felt himself flush. “You know, you could look up coffee shops near her campus and buy her a gift card or something. Somewhere similar. Probably better than mailing a scone.”

He blinked, surprised. That was a good idea. “I…” he trailed off. “That’s–”

“Sorry,” she interrupted, wincing. “I didn’t mean–”

“No,” he said, not wanting her to apologize. He touched his fingertips lightly to her arm – she was wearing short sleeves, and the touch of his skin against hers deepened his flush. His fingertips started to tingle and he felt his heart start to beat faster in his chest. “I was going to say, that’s a great idea. Thank you.”

She grinned at him and leaned forward, which brought her arm more in contact with his hand. Suddenly he found himself with a light hold on her forearm, gripping it gently. He stroked his thumb across her skin before he even realized what he was doing.

“I was worried I’d overstepped,” she said without moving away from him.

Marcus shook his head, momentarily speechless at the feel of her skin and the knowledge that she hadn’t pulled away.

“No,” he murmured. “I’m definitely going to do that. She’ll love it.”

For a moment he didn’t move, and neither did she. He noticed the line moving out of the corner of his eye but didn’t do anything about it until the person behind them in line cleared their throat.

Startled, he stepped forward, losing contact with her arm. She was still smiling at him as she turned.

“You know,” he said, wishing he could reach out to touch her hand. “I never asked what brings you here every day.”

She hummed. “Well the coffee, of course,” she winked at him, “but I also work from here most mornings. I like the atmosphere, and all of my meetings are in the afternoon.”

He nodded, thinking that sounded nice. “So if I were to keep up my new coffee habit, you’d be here in the mornings?”

She turned towards him then and he leaned closer.

“Yep,” she agreed. “Most days. Maybe you could stick around sometime.” She raised her eyebrows but he sighed.

“I can’t,” he said, looking down. “Have to be in the office.”

Her face fell and he felt something twist inside his chest. She opened her mouth to reply but he interrupted. He didn’t want her to feel like that, not when he was feeling like this.

“Maybe we could,” his voice came out a bit strangled and he cleared his throat. “Maybe we could have dinner sometime instead?”

Marcus watched as her face transformed from disappointed to hopeful. He smiled.

“I’d like that, Marcus.”

…

Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date, it had been so long.

(That was a lie – he just didn’t want to remember, it had gone so badly. But it had been years – he was pretty sure Missy had been in middle school at the time.)

He spent way too long staring at his clothes and trying to ignore Rob’s encouraging texts. He settled on dark jeans and a sweater. When his phone pinged again, he finally looked down to check it.

Rob (5:37 PM): Corina says wear the dark green sweater (5:38 PM): I don’t even know which sweater she’s talking about but I assume you do

Marcus looked down and laughed. He had, in fact, chosen the dark green sweater.

Marcus (5:41 PM): tell her I am and that I had the same idea

Rob (5:43 PM): she says good choice and have a great time (5:44 PM): I mean, me too

Marcus smiled as he walked downstairs. He was glad for the support, but he knew he looked good in this sweater. It was one of the few purchases he’d made in recent years just because he liked the way it looked.

He got in the car and headed towards the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. It was a short drive but he could feel himself getting more and more nervous the closer he got.

After he parked, he stopped and took a deep breath. He thought of Melissa, as he’d done quite a bit since he met the beautiful woman in the coffee shop. It had been so long since they’d lost her, and he’d had quite a bit of time to think about dating again. This wasn’t even his first try.

But it always made him a little wistful. He took a moment to think about what she’d say – probably something about how his arms looked in the sweater. The thought made him laugh and shake his head. He got out of the car.

She was waiting by the door, and she was stunning.

…

You tried not to fidget as you stood by the door to the restaurant. It was a place your coworker had recommended, but you’d never been. Your nerves had driven you to arrive ten minutes early and now you had nothing to do but wait, and think of the gorgeous man you were waiting for.

And he really was gorgeous. You’d known that from the moment he’d turned around after you’d almost knocked him over in your favorite coffee shop – a memory that made your cheeks burn, even now, you’d been so embarrassed. He was tall with a jawline that made you want to bite, shoulders that were so broad you needed to get your hands on them, and warm brown eyes that had so much feeling in them, it took your breath away.

And then he’d smiled at you, and helped you with your things. And flirted. And then he’d come back, and kept coming back. For coffee, of course, but also to talk to you.

Every time he walked into The Bean Box, he looked around, looking for you. And when he saw you, his face lit up. You couldn’t help but smile just thinking about it.

How is he single? It was a question you’d been wondering about all week. You figured it was probably because he was a single dad, and his daughter had just gone to college. But at the same time you couldn’t comprehend that no one had locked this gorgeous, thoughtful, funny, caring man down. Their loss, you thought, and smiled again.

At that moment you looked up, and caught sight of Marcus getting out of his car. Your smile stretched into a grin.

“Hello there,” he said, smiling as he walked closer to you. “You look stunning this evening.”

You looked him over and tilted your head. “So do you, in that sweater.”

He blushed and you bit your lip. It was so charming when he did that.

“Ready for dinner?” he asked, and when you nodded he turned to guide you inside. You felt his hand come up to rest on your lower back. It was big and warm, just as warm as it had been when he’d held your arm. You shivered.

The restaurant had a table waiting for you, and you turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He smiled and shrugged. “I called two days ago when you said yes to dinner.”

The table they led you to was cozy – tucked in a corner with a window, a romantic candle flickering in the center. When you sat, you realized a couple of plants hid you from the rest of the room.

“Cozy,” you said, smiling.

Marcus nodded. “My best friend has brought his wife here, says it’s fantastic. And romantic.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, reaching out to nudge his hand where it rested on the table. “Romantic, huh?”

Marcus looked suddenly unsure, which made you slide your hand over his and squeeze. “Is that alright?”

You nodded. “It’s more than alright, Marcus. It’s perfect.”

He smiled again, and the two of you settled into an easy conversation about your weeks, about his daughter, and about your work. It flowed just as comfortably as it had at the coffee shop and you felt the warmth that Marcus had kindled inside of you from the first moment start to burn again. It carried you through dinner.

You watched his face as he talked and couldn’t help but marvel again at how handsome he was. He seemed to notice your focus and smirked a bit. “What?”

“Hmm?” you blinked, eyes snapping back to meet his.

He reached across the table and laced his fingers with yours. “I was just wondering what you were thinking.”

Your face warmed but you wanted to tell him, anyway. “Just got distracted by how handsome you are.”

Marcus blushed again and you grinned. “Really?” he looked doubtful, and you couldn’t have that.

“Oh yes,” you said, leaning towards him. “Not for the first time. You know how hard it was not to stare, in the coffee shop?”

He laughed and picked up your hand. He leaned forward, too, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. You bit your lip at the sensation of his lips against your skin. “Me?” he asked, smiling against your knuckles. “What about you? You’re so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And then you smiled, and well.” He kissed your knuckles again. “Still can’t look away from you, even if I wanted to.”

For a moment you just stared at each other, smiling.

“Marcus,” you started, lifting your fingers to press against his jaw. He held on, but let you turn your hand until you could cup his cheek. “Do you want to come home with me?”

He blinked, clearly surprised. “I–” He swallowed, looking nervous. “It’s been a while, since…” he trailed off. “It’s been a while,” he repeated, smiling shyly.

You traced his cheekbone with your thumb. “There’s no rush,” you promised. You leaned a little closer and he leaned in to meet you. “I just want you to kiss me, Marcus,” you murmured, and watched his pleasure at that idea take over his handsome face. “And then we can just see where it takes us. No rush, no pressure.”

His eyes darkened as he smiled, a new sort of smile you hadn’t seen before. It made you press your thighs together under the table. “No rush,” he repeated, “but I’ve been wanting to kiss you, too,” he said, voice low and warm. He moved to stand. “Let’s go.”

…

Marcus stepped up close behind you at your door, and you smiled at the feeling of his warm body almost touching yours. His hand came to rest on your waist and you shivered.

You finally managed to unlock the door and he followed you in.

So quickly it made your head spin, Marcus turned and pressed you up against the inside of your door. you gasped. His chest was just as broad and firm as you’d thought, and he held you easily in place, right where he wanted you. You marveled at his sudden confidence – it looked very good on him.

“Hi there, beautiful,” he murmured, looking down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you breathed. Before you could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Marcus’s lips were warm, and soft, and his kiss was slow and gentle. It seeped into you and you felt his warmth light you up from the inside.

Your hands found his hips and you tugged him forwards until your bodies were touching from shoulder to knee. He moaned lightly, into your mouth, and suddenly his kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

It was fierce. Your head was spinning as you opened your mouth to him and felt his tongue stroke along yours.

His thigh came to rest between yours and you shivered.

“Marcus,” you sighed, breaking the kiss. He pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw before he let his head drop to your shoulder.

“You feel perfect against me, you know that?” His voice sounded almost hoarse, and you wrapped your arms around his waist. His sweater was soft and it made you smile. His right hand was flat against the door by your head but his left came up to cup your jaw and neck. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re perfect.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m not perfect,” you laughed.

He shook his head against your shoulder. “Feels pretty perfect.” He thrust his hips forward and pressed his thigh against you more firmly. You moaned.

You felt Marcus huff a small laugh against your shoulder and pulled back to eye him. “What?”

He was smiling. “It’s nothing.” He shook his head as you raised your eyebrow, still confused. “I was just thinking how lucky I am that my coffee machine broke that day. Never would have met you, otherwise.”

You felt your face relax as you smiled back and leaned in for another soft kiss. “Sounded like it was on its last legs, from what you told me.”

He laughed again, and you grinned. “It was. RIP, Mr. Coffee, and thank you for your timely death.”

You hummed. “I like to think I would have found you, anyway. Maybe on another day at the Box.”

Marcus pressed forward and buried his face in your neck again. You felt his soft kisses working their way down to your shoulder and shivered. “Yeah? How?”

You shrugged and he nipped at your shoulder. “Just feels right, you know? I felt it the moment I met you.” You leaned your head to the side and he took advantage, worrying a mark at the spot where it met your shoulder. It made you squirm and his grip on you tightened. “Like I’d found something I’d been looking for, and didn’t even know it.”

He lifted his head again and the look in his eyes made your breath catch in your throat. “I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart. You woke me up when you almost knocked me over.” He grinned, teasing you.

“What do you mean?” You lifted one of your hands and let your fingers trail through his hair.

He leaned into it, smiling. “I’ve been… asleep. Living the same day, over and over again. And then I met you, and it’s like I’m awake for the first time since Missy left. Before that, probably.” He leaned forward and kissed you, gently. “You woke me up,” he repeated. You smiled, surprised and pleased that you’d had such an effect on him, too.

Marcus kissed you again, and for a while after that there wasn’t a lot of talking. You could only manage his name, and please, and don’t stop.

He didn’t.

...

a/n: 🥰

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x f!reader #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno #pedro pascal character fanfiction #x reader #awake fic

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cowboyshadows · 2 days ago

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Soap having a big fat crush on his married professor. (There’s no infidelity in this.)

Soap fucked up. Big time. He sits in Price’s office like a puppy who got caught breaking the vase.

He hasn’t messed up this monumentally since he was a rookie. The bastard rigged C4 too close to a flock of sheep. Thought it’d be cool, didn’t he?

Sent the whole lot of them flying. Accidentally caused a wool-based apocalypse.

He’s also never seen Price this upset. His mouth is hidden in the foliage of his beard. His eyes are down turned. His hands flex around his lighter and cigar.

Soap slinks back in his seat, exhaling loudly.

“You need a refresher,” Price says, quietly. Like he’s dropped a bomb. Ironic.

“Wha’?”

“Yer goin’ back to school, MacTavish.”

And that was that. Made him take a satchel with a spiral bound notebook and a pen, the old man. Highlighters and sticky notes. Like he’s actually gonna stand to gain anything from this shite.

Drags his feet begrudgingly to the lecture hall his class is in. Molecular Dynamics of High-Explosive Compounds. He wishes someone would have placed a C4 too close to him, right about now.

Picks a seat right at the back. He’d have expected it to be less available than it actually is, but most of the students occupy the first four rows of benches. Crosses his arms, draws his hat low: he’s ready to hate every second of this. Some old man with a greying bear and shiny head is gonna come in and tell him about bombs he’s never used. What a fuckin’ waste o—

“Sorry I’m late,” you rattle off, walking into the class room. He leans forward to get a better look at you. You’re wearing jeans and a t-shirt that says Hotter than a Combustion Reaction. Thick-rimmed glasses perched atop your head, hair whipped back into a tidy updo. “Had to stop my husband from lighting the stove with a cigar again.”

What the fuck?

“Anyway,” you say, clapping your hands. “Welcome to explosions 101. Alternatively,” your mouth curls in a coy smile, “Why We Don’t Freehand C4 Ratios.” It feels pointed. Unnecessary. He pulls the hat lower on his face.

You chuckle then, along with the class. “We have a very special guest in our midst today, that’s right. A demolitions expert from the SAS, actually.” You look around the class. “Sergeant MacTavish? I promise not to ridicule you.” Another laugh.

He raises his hand cautiously, and all the students turn to look at him. Your face softens in a familiar grin. “We’re glad to have ya, sergeant.”

He feels the blood rush beneath his cheeks.

So, in theory, does he have a crush on his professor? No. No, he doesn’t. This is a stupid punishment Price gave him, and all he has to do is soldier through it. Like a soldier.

But in practice… yeah. Around you, his heart has a velocity to rival an explosive’s detonation velocity.

He’s never gone this all out for school before. He almost understands why all those sleazy college boys swarm you at the end of the lecture, not even letting him slip a glance in edgewise.

He makes notes, diagrams, solves homework religiously. Does your golden problems for the heck of it, just because he wants to hear you say his name and praise him. Asks you questions not because he has a doubt, but because he wants to hear you talk.

He spends most of his afternoons in your office now, your legs resting on your desk as you review his calculations.

Drinking out of your mug that says World’s Okayest Wife. Some ungrateful bastard, your husband is. “My boss has the same mug,” he says, to which you smile.

He might be in love with you.

Price knows, obviously.

“Enjoyin’ the lessons, Johnny?”

“Tha’s classified.”

It’s been a particularly exciting lesson about thermite. He wrote down in his little notebook all the questions he wants to ask you. Right next to the hearts surrounding Mrs. Professor MacTavish.

He waits outside your office for you to finish your lunch, diligently like a lap dog.

Then, out of nowhere, Price shows up.

“Afternoon, Sergeant,” he nods, taking his hat off.

“Ye don’ ‘ave tae pick me up,” he grumbles, “ah’m a grown man.”

He just snorts in response. Whatever that’s about. Price’s hand darts to the doorknob of your office.

“Wait, she doesnae like tae be dist—”

Too late. They’re in the office. Correction: Price is in the office. And he’s beckoning Johnny in like he owns the damn place.

“John!” you chirp, getting out of your seat. You didn’t even get out of your seat for Soap.

“Professor, I trust Johnny’s been a good boy?”

You smile at Soap and he feels his ears turn red. “Only the best.”

“I’m glad,” Price smiles, hand resting on your shoulder. Soap damn near jumps out of his skin.

“Cap, ain’t ya married?” comes perhaps a little too loudly.

Your eyes shoot wider at that, and he feels a strange sense of victory. Threat neutralised.

Silence. Then a beat. Price starts cackling. Bends over with it. “This daft thing.” Leans over and kisses you full on the lips.

Soap sighs. “Cannae let me ‘ave one good thing, Cap.”

#ridings #johnny soap mactavish x reader #cod smut #soap x reader #soap #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

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currentfandomkick · 13 hours ago

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Pt2 reincarnated Tim gets the Wail aka Phantom Shrike

Part one here

Virgil let Tim in, leaning against the wall as Tim looked about his room, clearly searching for where to start as his head looked everywhere, largely at the walls and floor, but not directly at Virgil.

“So," Tim began as he wrung with his hands awkwardly. "I’m going to guess you noticed the early reflexes thing and flinching when you use your powers or Nightwing lights up his escrima sticks?”

Vigil raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t need to be a detective to see that a mile away.”

Tim took a seat at last, settling the urge to scream as the beanbag chair engulfed him. “So, Dick told you all about the uh, JJ incident, or do i get to explain that?”

Virgil moved back to his desk, moving his project to the side. “Just that it was bad.”

“It was.” Bad enough to revive a former lifetime and activate his meta gene. “Kind of shot him, but not me? He’s still in a coma from it.”

Tim waited for Virgil’s reaction. Virgil merely turned to face Tim again, sitting backwards in his swivel chair with an unusually neutral expression.

“I, uh, always had a thing with electricity before that.”

Tim fiddled with his hands again. Counting taps in twos and threes. Dad mentioned it after his last anger management session as a grounding technique. Tim found it… useful. For other things. Largely subduing shrieks, and kicking his trauma triggers in the nuts—when he was certain it was rude to break out tetris anyways.

“Mom called it ‘soul memory hugs’, and not to look into it when I was a kid.” Tim continued, tapping out one of his favorite songs in a modified version of morse code.

He remembers going to Janet in the middle of the night, asking where the nice red head girl went, and why she was crying when he got shocked in his sleep and everything went green. Janet just soothed his concerns and reminded him that the Talons don't go for society kids, but maybe the little girl lost someone and Tim reminded her of him. That he was not responsible for the girl and to let her come to him on her own terms, but to keep a few back ups prepared "just in case" and had him sleep with salt in hand and an iron bracelet.

“Didn’t stop the flashes of," he still couldn't adequately describe the flickers of his pre-Tim life. Of a realm made of ectoplasm the way theirs was made of carbon. The sentient food, watching people walk off injuries that should have crippled them, or the Fenton Driving Watch for the weather. Tucker's laugh and his varied PDAs, or Sam's smile promising someone pain. Dani's joy when she stabilized and befriended Val. Val's everything. "Of something,” he finished lamely.

It'd all been so difficult to pin down back then, as it was too vague without the rest of his memories giving context. A hand holding his. Someone protecting him, other times being punched in the arm or patted on his shoulder almost in condolence of some sort.

“Usually just a warm feeling that uh, stuck if it was static, no pun intended!”

Virgil shook his head with a smile, leaning into the cushion of the chair. “Sure thing Rob, keep going.”

“But when I started going out as Robin," it began a bit before, when he was gathering more evidence of Bruce as Batman to validate his threat of exposing Bruce's secret identity if that was the only way to the man to stop and get help. The sense of dejavu and the stray thought of 'Wes is rolling in his grave' that he never could explain away…

"As Robin," Tim repeated after a beat of silence. "and got hit anytime? It, it changed." his taps stopped being to any song at all. Mouth pulled to one flat, Tim continued. "Flickers of something," he leaned his head to one side, before moving it to the other as he spoke. "Became more and bits of something else.”

Virgil leaned back minutely, face starting to tinge with pinches of worry. “Do any of the Bats know about that?”

Tim shook his head. “B wasn’t, uh,” Tim fiddled with his hands more, not taps or morse code. More hand wringing and flexing phalanges. “In any state to even recognize I wasn’t Robin the Second when I started,” he confessed.

Virgil seemed frozen, like he was mentally recoiling as he moved from his chair to perch on his bed to see Tim and be closer to him for some reason. And now far more attentive than the earlier lull.

Tim shrugged off his concern, as it wasn't like anybody was unaware of how badly Bruce took losing Jason, or how badly Batman took flying solo. People are excellent at ignoring inconveniences to them. and a compromised bad was inconvenient to the GEL.

“No one noticed in the field as Robin was still who he called. My job was to deescalate him, not the other way around.”

Virgil pinched his brow. “So your mentor was violent, and you mentored him rather than mentoring you.”

“Yeah, for most of the three years I pieced him back together. He had me go through the ringer and work under a lot of mentors for combat. Some villains too.”

Tim briefly wondered if Lady Shiva’s offer would extend to helping him take out Joker… And if he could live with himself if he did. Joker killed Jason and was a contributing reason to his parents' hesitation to letting him take up a mantel again in Gotham.

Tim ran a hand through his hair, trying to push that thought aside and the relief of it out of his mind. “Didn’t really tell B things until it was mandatory or necessary. And I wasn’t Robin like Dick and Jay were. I wasn’t and won’t be his son. Just the kid pulling his ass out of his own head and enforcing his old code on his ass. With whatever weapon I need to keep others safe.”

“Hey, Rob?" Virgil interrupted. "You do realize what that sounds like out loud, right?” Virgil's form radiated tension.

Tim could only give a strained smile in return. “Dad and Step Mom lectured me on it and not sacrificing myself for someone that can’t even see me, not the people they wish I was.”

Virgil shook his head as he leaned back. “No wonder you’re off patrol in Gotham.”

Tim let out a long exhale through his nose. “Yeah. Dad sort of wasn’t around until after Mom died, and uh, fixed his priorities.”

“Deathlike do it,” Virgil muttered to himself bitterly.

Tim tactfully ignored that as he knew it was something for Virgil to reveal to his family (not being dead) not Tim’s brand of meddling.

“So uh, Dad always knew about the memory hugs, and more recently the uh, flickers? I've been calling the longer and more detailed memory hugs that. A lot of people get flickers of previous lives and shit, so no need to tell Bats when he frankly couldn’t tell ass, elbow and knees apart.”

Virgil whistled long and low. “Cool, cool… so what does that have to do with the Joker Incident and the extra sensory shit you’ve clearly got going on.”

Tim took a deep breath. “Joker uh, used electric shock repeatedly as a way to torture me. Tried to re-write my memories to be his kid, not B's."

Virgil froze.

“Which is ridiculous. If anything, B was my kid." Tim curled his toes as the memories tried to creep back in. He wished that etiquette allowed him to play tetris right now—to distract him from the phantom sensations.

"Same thing happened in the last life and it," he struggled how to articulate the change of impressions and images to the meshing of time and emotional intermingling. "It stopped being flickers."

He bite his inner cheek and could feel the barely noticeable mouth scars pinking as he bit down. All while Virgil's eyes watched his every move. "More, more like flashbacks, I guess. A lot of time being tied down with an asshole demanding I kill my dad and join him as his evil apprentice. Sometimes it was bleeding memories and superimposed images of people I knew then onto people I know now. And it uh, kicked my meta-gene into activating.”

Virgil finally moved, visibly tabling most of what he said. The tension in his own shoulders dropped when he realized he wouldn't have to go back to that horrid laughing place in his mind . “What kinds of activating, and how’d they emerge?”

“A few my step mom clocked—I could hear better and had a larger pitch range that my voice cracking couldn’t hide. Mostly on their own but the uh, scream one is uh, a work in progress on emerging still.”

“So you can hear people coming from further away?” Virgil surmised.

“Not exactly. Its uh, complicated<" Tim let his shoulders and hands do the talking again. "A local eco-terrorist and meta is helping me with where it overlaps on her turf. Apparently plants can hear a lot more than we thought and have opinions on my singing skills. Mainly, that they suck.”

Virgil took a deep breath and looked up. Tim waited for him to give the okay to keep going.

Virgil waved him on once he was done pleading to the ceiling for something to make this more bearable.

“So uh, Ivy is teaching me how to understand plant languages, in exchange for beach cleanups and something I already planned to and had in the works.”

“A rogue is teaching you about your powers, and the adult who you were monitoring in hindsight has no clue.” Virgil rubbed his face before looking up. “And Dick, he looped in?”

“Not yet, I uh, want to know more before becoming a pet project for the extended Bats, you know?”

Virgil conceded that much.

“And its only one aspect the rogue knows! She helps a lot of metas hide their abilities and teaches them how to cope and work with it on their terms. B knows about her doing that and doesn’t interfere with that part of her work. Everyone knows about her doing it.”

“But not regarding you?”

“Its," Tim scrambled to find the right word. "Its complicated.”

“A lot of things with Bats are.”

“Look," Tim held his hands up in surrender. "My dad will go down for attempted murder, if not murder one, if B is around me anymore. I don’t know what they said, but Dad found out about Robin a few weeks after I escaped the JJ incident…”

Virgil paused, face loosening as something clicked. Shoulders slack, he muttered, “you almost died, didn’t you?”

Tim bit his inner cheeks and scars, tapping a littler harder than before. “Legally dead a few times during it, and uh, got to relive the times I died in my last life.”

“How Bad?”

Tim could feel Maddie cutting into him, could see her comparing his insides to Ember’s.

“Mad scientist parents found out I stopped being fully human. It, it was, it was bad.”

“Shit.”

Tim swallowed dryly. “Yeah. Uh, I was hoping, no pressure or obligation, if you’d be okay helping with exposure therapy with electricity. Yours doesn’t sound the same as, as,” Tim felt that urge to scream grow in his throat. He clamped his hands over his mouth and used that trick from Fear Toxin.

“Tim?!”Virgil stood up.

5 things he could touch. His mouth, shoes, ground under his feet, the chair he was sitting on, his clothes.

4 things he can see. Virgil, door, poster, desk.

3 things he can hear. His breathing (too quick), Virgil’s static field, hum from the lights.

2 things he can smell. Stress and BO.

1 thing he can taste. His teeth.

Tim dropped his hands as his throat loosened to safe speaking levels as he repeated the steps. “Sorry, just uh, some stress requires screaming now and it, its not safe to be in the blast radius.” Tim ran a hand over his face. “Learning pitch control still and the screams tend to uh, level things. Missions are fine, the, the flashbacks…”

Virgil nodded slowly. “Not far off from Canary then. Talking about JJ triggers it?”

Tim nodded with a hard swallow. “Talking about the, the memories from the life where my parents uh, killed me and the dying by them after half dying from fixing an invention of theirs and having multi-dimensional portal kill and revive me simultaneously multiple times does it too.”

Static opened and shut his mouth. “Flashbacks frequent?”

“Yeah, kinda. Telling my body we’re not being strapped down and vivisected is uh, not something it likes to believe. And survival first, questions later. Fear gas is so much easier to handle,” he complained.

Virgil nodded slower this time. Tim knew it was a lot to take in.

“So, a Canary Cry?” Virgil began once the silence began to stretch to uncomfortable.

“Kind of?” Tim read her file enough before just in case, and he had clear add-ons she didn’t have. “Enhanced hearing too, but I can use infra sound and hear it if I tune into it. Also can hear the weather more than usual.”

“More than—you could hear the weather before?” Virgil stared at him.

“Assumed it was the autism,” Tim dismissed. “Could be both now.”

Virgil shook his head, possibly grumbling about 'white boys' under his breath. “Any other metas in the family?”

“Not that are still around. Dad’s cousin had a similar voice ability,” Tim talked around the issue of Black Canary Senior being his disowned cousin. “But never met her. Fled long before I was born on Dad’s side. Mom’s is a mystery in general unless you ask for someone specific about a specific event or topic.”

Virgil shook his head. “Okay, but are you sure nothing else has gone on, anything unusual?”

“Not that I can think of off the top of my head. Broke down Batman’s resistance to me being Robin using what Mom taught me about destroying my enemy’s mental fortitude, so… I don’t think so.”

“Think on it. And I can help with the exposure therapy thing if you want, but getting any help for all of this besides me?”

“Step mom, Dad, and Ivy. Robin’s supportive but doesn’t know any specifics… I think. She caught me during training on a surveillance mission, only knows some powers. Dad, step mom and me are the only ones that know about all of them.”

Virgil sighed. “Bats can’t know?”

“Not if we want my dad to stay out jail.”

Virgil looked up at his ceiling. “Planning to your tell your friends?”

“…When I have a better idea of how to control the screaming part. They were already convinced I’ve been meta since we met.”

“Might have been.”

Oh, Tim had not thought that part through.

“…maybe? I’ll have to work that out at home… and thanks. I mean it.”

“No problem man, just try not to mix me with anyone you knew last life, or not too bad.”

“You’re safe. More worried about mixing current friends with my dead ones.”

Virgil shooed Tim out.

Tim relaxed, just a touch, before going back to cases in the commons and catching Stephanie up on Titans BS with everyone chiming in.

It was good to be home.

—

Tim knows, logically, he can tell his team about being murdered by his parents in his last life. He also remembers meeting Greta and knowing she wasn’t truly Dead, which is something he can’t explain fully still…

Virgil might have had a point about being some sort of meta (or maybe magic?) long before the JJ incident. Most kids can’t evade Batman and Robin for years just to take pictures of them mid-flight.

Maybe a sound nullification ability or something to that effect… he can bribe Ivy to help experiment with it later.

The problem is he doubts Kon wouldn’t lead the charge with his dad to summon and beat up said former filicidal parents. And he knows that the whole team would be on board if they knew.

He would rather not see Maddie or Jack again. Especially while awake. Jazz showing up a bit different in his dreams and complaining about his broken sleep schedule making it harder to visit was something he remained on the fence about telling anyone.

Possibly harass Captain Marvel about it as that guy said nothing about people’s shit unless it becomes a game of which plane of existence you can stay on… but even then, tracking him down without bat-tech is a game of whackamole.

There’s also the complication of Tim being very aware he likes Kon, and not necessarily as a friend alone. Which. He doesn’t have time for the additional sexuality crisis on top of his varied identity crises at the moment and the media’s questions about the two Robins and if Robin was gender fluid, flux or only out as a girl in Gotham and a young man elsewhere. He cannot add ‘crushing on a teammate’ to his list when he and Stephanie only broke up a week before the JJ incident and are just now easing back into their old friendship. He doesn’t want the amputated feeling of losing a friend again because he keeps catching feelings for them, and is 10,000% certain he should not touch romance until he’s in a better mental state.

He has Problems on his plate, and it’s already overflowing. He’d rather not break.

And he loves his friends. But he has no doubt that Cassie would set up the pitchforks rather than stop any of the retribution his father was undoubtedly planning. He can’t gift-wrap his friends as minions in his dad’s crusade to fuck over the Fentons across dimensions, spacetime and afterlife status.

He did manage to make a small list of oddities for himself about his capacity to do things that were vaguely ghostly or similar to powers he’d pieced together.

So far potential intangibility or density shifting, invisibility, faster recovery rate than non-metas yet slow for a meta—speed seems dependent on how likely the injury is to kill him. His high tolerance for the cold was making sense the further in Winter he got and the more he’d see flickers of Frostbite training him in his last life.

Whatever an ‘ice core’ is, seems cool. He may have taken to playing with discarded freeze guns and be reworking them to be smaller and more compact. Possibly to add to his future vigilante ID, or to be a general weapon as a civilian given non-lethal status and his ability to add a melting rate adjustment knob of some sort, and call 911.

Bart saw him with it, grinned manically, and joined in helping him improve and adjust it. Slobo joined them both.

Cassie took one look at them and declared it ‘not her problem if they freeze themselves’ while Kon was out on another press tour thing.

Tim pretended not to note those had increased lately only on days Tim was staying with Just Us for non-mission things and Kon’s increase in excuses to avoid him in general.

If Kon wanted distance, then he’d get it. Even if it stung. Kon’s time and his life to spend as he pleases. And clearly, Tim displeases him. /worthless. Monster. Failure. Stand-in. No wonder you’ve always been a loser—/

“So, for Robin time or outside the mask?” Greta asked when she caught the three near the end of a schematics debate.

“Not sure yet,” Tim admitted. “Rogues are weirdly chill with me in civvies lately. But that could be Ivy being Ivy.”

Bart and Slobo’s debate died at that. “Ivy?”

“Uh, Poison Ivy’s plants outted civilian me for something i was dealing with. She’s decided she’s helping with fine-tuning my control on it and gave me one of her ‘protected by’ pins.”

Greta hummed, floating nearer while Bart was buzzing in his place.

“and its a good thing?”

“Other than her shipping me and my ex? Parents approve of the additional support and it’s made intel gathering easier. She was right about the hearing range increase being a bitch to deal with daily.”

Cassie came in with their takeout then, and everyone dispelled to their usual nonsense.

“So, Ivy ships you and your ex?” Greta began with innocently enough.

Tim debated banging his head against the table.

“My civvie self and Gotham’s Robin,” he clarified. “And only enough to throw cuddle pollen on her and lock us together in… varied situations. And laugh about it.”

Cassie blinked at him slowly. “You are being teased by a Rogue who ships civilian you, with a vigilante.”

“… to be fair I am getting plant speak lessons, but yeah.”

“Rob, what the fuck,” Cassie shook her head.

Tim shrugged. “Its Ivy. A safe distraction for the minors she fights is her preferred MO. if it’s just Bats she can and will use sex pollen. If kids or unclear on minor status are involved, cuddle pollen galore.”

“Uh huh.” Cassie and Greta share a look. “So you dated girl Robin, before she became Robin?”

“She was Spoiler first, and I gave her tips on managing Bruce’s ass when I uh,” Tim still didn’t know how to explain ‘forcibly removed from vigilante activities as his dad worried about him dying in a cape like the last Robin, so Tim was forced to pass the buck of Bruce’s mental instability onto his ex-girlfriend and close friend, Spoiler, and coaches her in Bruce Wrangling at a distance’.

“Forced semi-retirement?” Cissie suggested as she stole a slice of pizza, cringing at Tim’s. Which was all his as Bart didn’t care for it. Sucker’s bet on keeping their slices safe from speedster snatching. Amateurs; clearly they never went to boarding school.

“That,” Tim took a bite of his Canadian bacon and pineapple goodness. “And also she’s officially Oracle’s Robin," he swallowed. "Just B’s for combat scenarios. Dad has decided to threaten B’s living status for her too.”

“Rob,” Slobo interrupted. “The fuck.”

“…in my defense, she asked me out a week after almost killing me the first time.”

“Your dad, not other Robin!”

“First time?!”

“She prefers bricks as her projectiles.” Tim wiped his hands clean after his first slice, humming as he went over the blueprint… how should he compensate for his screams and Wail?

“Oh, and she aimed at my head. She’s into three section staffs lately which is a lot less deadly.”

“Rob. She asked you out after almost killing you?” Bart clarified.

“… not on purpose but yeah.”

“She asked you out by accident?”

“No, almost killing part. She’s gotten better aim since, and is following the no killing until you’re not a bat-affiliate rule.”

His team shared looks he didn't bother to check. The urge to analyze could spiral into another screaming attack if he didn't nip it in the bud.

“So not getting back together with her?” Greta clarified with a smile that screamed Gossip Detected.

He let her have either way, even with the looks Cissie, Bart, and Cassie shared.

———-

Let me know if i missed any tags ^^

#long post #my writing #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny reincarnated at tim #good parents jack and dana

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