#anyways the first thing that popped up when i looked at bat guys tag for me is a fic so... ahaha... dont mind if i do

[jupiter-reimagined]

Does that sidekick (the blue one) even speak in the season? I can't remember now. I don't remember him even speaking. I desperately wanted to see more of him, but alas.

i dont know, but i just found out their name is Steb.... by looking up "arcane fish guy". but me too,,, i love him,,,

AND THE BAT GUY IS NAMED SCAR. OH MY GOD. i can be normal about him <- lie

[jackrrabbit]

Clean /// Sakusa x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: [College dorm AU] Sakusa can’t stop thinking about you in the shower.

A/N: Indirectly inspired by @seita​ and @bakatenshii​, who made me think about soap and Sakusa’s cum in conjunction…thanks guys :P

Tags/warnings: masturbation, mild cleanliness fetish if that’s a thing?, Sakusa wants you and is in deep denial about it

It’s not like he started doing it on purpose. Not at first.

On weekdays, you wake up at the same time that Sakusa gets back from the gym: 7 AM exactly. He timed it that way because they clean the dorm bathrooms at 6:30—they’re still revolting, but they can’t be as bad as the ones at the gym. He can avoid touching the stall walls if he has to, and…he has to. 7 is the perfect time—even the students with 8 AM class can’t be fucked to wake up that early, so he gets the row of mirrors and stalls to himself.

Except for you.

Your room is right next to the stairwell; when Sakusa jogs up the stairs (two at a time, blood still pumping from his workout even though the sweat is already cooling on his back) he can hear your alarm through the thin wall. Always 7 on the dot: your phone blares an obnoxiously loud ringtone, there’s a muffled protest from you and your roommate curses at you to turn that shit off, it’s seven fucking AM. By the time he’s standing at the bathroom sink brushing his teeth, you’re usually pushing through the door in your pajamas, holding your towel in one hand and rubbing your puffy eyes with the other.

So it’s not like Sakusa plans this. It’s a coincidence. Mostly.

“G’morning…Kiyoomi.” You interrupt yourself with a yawn in the middle of the sentence. Your voice sounds heavy with exhaustion and he wonders, not for the first time, why you bother waking up so early. You don’t seem like a morning person.

The toothbrush is still in Sakusa’s mouth, so he just nods to greet you. You smile sleepily and then bend down to reach your bathroom locker, and—fuck, fuck, you’re wearing the shorts again, the threadbare cotton ones you wear whenever the weather gets a little warmer. They’re thin (so thin he can see the high cut of your panties underneath when they’re stretched over your ass, not that he’s looking), and they’re short.

Do you know how much you’re showing off when you bend over like that to rummage through your locker? You’re basically showing your ass off, the smooth muscle of your thighs rising up into those perfect cheeks, and between them, the dingy cotton stretched tight over your mound—

He’s not looking. He shouldn’t be looking. Sakusa lowers his gaze in the mirror to spit the toothpaste into the sink.

“Hey, can I borrow some of that?”

You’re standing at his elbow now, blinking up at him. Pleading. When he wordlessly hands over the tube, you grin, eyes crinkling up at the corners like he just offered to take your hand in marriage rather than letting you have some toothpaste that he wasn’t going to miss anyway. “Thanks! You’re the best.”

You barely know him. Sakusa’s pretty sure that these early-morning bathroom encounters are the only times you two interact.

“How was your workout?” you ask when you’re done brushing your teeth.

Sakusa has to grip the edge of the counter to tear his eyes away from you when you spit it out—white foam dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin—but that’s beside the point. “It was fine.”

“Yeah? Did you run or go to the gym?”

“Gym.” Why are you so curious? You’re too friendly.

You hum appreciatively, rubbing foamy circles of cleanser into your skin. The smell of it is light—floral, but barely. Lavender, maybe. That’s step one of your morning skincare routine, which Sakusa’s pretty certain he knows as well as you do by now. Next will be toner, and then you’ll save the rest for after your shower—but before you reach for the next little bottle in the row you’ve lined up on the bathroom counter, you turn toward him. “I should get back on a regular gym schedule too. Maybe one day I’ll go with you?”

“If you can wake up that early.” The remark must come out harsher than Sakusa intended, because you raise your eyebrows and your mouth drops open—but a second later you’re smiling again, turning back to the mirror so you can pat the toner into your skin.

“You’re probably right. I don’t know how you wake up at six in the morning every day.”

5:45, he wants to correct. But if he keeps talking to you, you’re going to notice he’s staring. So he just finishes washing his face without answering, puts his stuff back into the locker, and makes his way over to the shower stalls, leaving you and the scent of lavender behind.

There are five stalls. All open, of course. Second from the left has the best water pressure, and the one on the far right has a removable shower head and heats up the quickest. But Sakusa chooses the middle stall. For no reason. Not because he knows exactly which stall you’re going to pick, and he wants to be sure he’s in the stall next to yours when you do. He takes his time—undresses slowly, folding his dirty gym clothes even though they’re going straight into the laundry; sets his shampoo and conditioner and body wash out on the bench in the order that he’s going to use them; turns the knob to just the right angle to get the right temperature and waits for it to heat up until he can see the steam saturating the air.

By the time Sakusa’s under the water, massaging shampoo through his hair and feeling the sweat slough off his skin along with the shower spray, you’re done with your pre-shower skincare, padding over from the sinks to the stalls and picking—predictably—the one next to his. He has to strain himself to hear it over the sound of splashing water but he does hear it: your cheap pink flip-flops slapping against the tile floor, the relieved yawn in your breath as you stretch (you always stretch) and the soft rustling of fabric as you take off your clothes and deposit them in a heap on the bench.

Sakusa tilts his head up into the shower spray and feels the stray drops clinging to his eyelashes and wonders how much he’d be able to see if the walls were made of glass.

Today is Wednesday, and that means you’re going to wash your hair today because you always wash it on Wednesdays. Sakusa can already smell the shampoo you use filtering into the air. What is it? Sharper and more bitter than mint, medicinal almost—he’s considered asking you a few times what it is, but he can’t figure out a way to phrase the question.

Hey, (Y/N), tell me what product you use to wash your hair. Ever since I started jacking off in the shower to you, I can’t get off unless I’m smelling it.

That probably wouldn’t go over well.

Fuck, he’s already hard. The heat of the shower is nothing compared to the heat of his blood pumping down to his cock. Sakusa rinses through his hair quickly, freeing up his hands so he can palm his shaft and give it a tentative stroke.

Through the shower wall you give a light, soft sigh of appreciation, and Sakusa feels his cock jump in his hand. You prefer your showers hotter than he does—white puffs of steam are rising up over the gap between the stall divider and the ceiling, and you always come out flushed. The heat must feel nice, hm? He can almost see you, standing naked under the shower head in just your stupid pink flip-flops, letting rivulets of water drip down from the crown of your head to flow lower…over your shoulders, your back, your tits; your fingers lathering the shampoo through your hair, soap bubbles washing the grease away from you, draining away yesterday’s grime so you’re all fresh and squeaky clean.

You sigh again, and your voice is pushing out behind the breath. A moan, almost. Do you ever touch yourself in the shower? He’d be a hypocrite to think you shouldn’t be able to take advantage of this rare moment of privacy…it’s so hard to get time to yourself in the dorms, he can sympathize… So maybe you let your hands dip lower while you wash, shift your thighs apart so you can fit your fingers between them. Pet that puffy little cunt, push your fingers inside, feel your slick wash off in the water just to be replaced with more.

Sakusa wraps his fingers around his cock and slides his hand up the shaft, moving slowly so he can savor the light friction. Your hands would be soft, wouldn’t they? Softer than his. You don’t have calluses like he does—all that lotion you use must be doing you some good. And your hands are a lot smaller than his are…you’d probably have trouble getting one hand all the way around. You’d have to use both hands to hold him, hold his cock and pump him, jack him off…

If your hands are too small for him, what about your mouth?

The shower is so warm and you’re so close. Sakusa closes his eyes so he can breathe in that sweet medicinal smell and imagine you in here with him.

Your mouth. Soft lips, no makeup, just your natural color dampened from the water and your spit and his precum, closed around him, stretched around him to accommodate for the mass of his cock sitting in your mouth. Little pink tongue flicking out to tease the tip, lapping flat at the underside and then kissing it. You’d be a tease, a fucking tease. Looking up at him with those eyes, batting your eyelashes over your dewy-wet cheeks as you try to swallow him a little deeper. He’d tangle his fingers around the back of your head, push the strands of wet hair away from your face, pull your mouth up and down on his cock while the water splashes down around the two of you—

There’s a click of a cap popping shut and your shoes smacking wetly against the floor while you reach over to grab another bottle. You’re humming to yourself—a song Sakusa’s heard on his friends’ playlists and at parties but he doesn’t know the lyrics. Sometimes you sing in the shower (always softly, under your breath, so quiet he’d barely be able to hear if he wasn’t listening) but today you just hum. Maybe you’d sing out loud if he wasn’t there?

You’re probably being considerate to him...you do seem like the type. After all, you must be as aware of his presence three feet away from you as he is of yours. You probably think about him in the shower too.

Sakusa’s hips buck forward, pushing his dick through his hand as he pumps it with no real technique or rhythm, just trying to match the pace of his breathing to what he can hear of yours. The heat of his impending climax is coiling low in his belly, even though it hasn’t been long—it never takes long when he’s thinking about you. You’ve practically become a part of his own morning routine, to the point where he couldn’t even get off when he went home for spring break a few weeks ago. When the two of you move out of the dorms and go your separate ways, it’s going to be annoying. He should really stop this, wean himself off you while he can…not that he really wants to.

Your voice isn’t bad when you sing, but it’d be a lot better moaning his name.

People fuck in the showers. Sakusa knows that, he’s heard them himself and always been acutely disgusted at the filth of it all. Dorm bathrooms are notoriously foul—there’s a reason people wear shoes when they’re showering, and the thought of people actually fucking in here makes his skin crawl. But with you? He can see it, he can feel it—the soft fat of your thighs in his hands, skin dimpling under his grip as he holds you up; your arms twisted around his neck hugging into him; the hot water streaming over both of your bodies as his cock slaps into your pussy, burying into that tight wet heat.

Sakusa grits his teeth to stifle a groan and wonders if you heard it, and then he’s feeling around for the memory of your sleepy “Good morning, Kiyoomi” and warping your voice in his mind until he can almost hear your lips wrapping around his name, panting it, whimpering it, choking it out between pleas for him to fuck you harder—Kiyoomi, please, fuck me fuck me just like that, fuck my little pussy til I can’t walk straight Kiyoomi I need you!

God, he wants to hear it, he wants to say your name, wants you to know he’s jacking off to you. Sakusa’s hand speeds up and his hips are thrusting into his fist, the water making wet clicking noises every time his cockhead moves up past his fingers as he imagines fucking you right here in this shower. He’d make you cum, make you clench and tighten around him, make you wake up the entire goddamn floor with your screaming, and—fuck, he’s mouthing out the syllables, and then he can hear his own voice out loud and he’s saying your name—

“K-Kiyoomi?”

Your actual voice—lifted, high and clear as a bell ringing even stifled by the stall and the rushing water hits Sakusa and he flinches—and cums, cock jerking under his grip as the sticky white fluid shoots out to coat his hand. It’s good, so good, so fucking good, you said his name, you said it, fucking perfect—the release passes over him so forcefully that he has to hold his breath to bite back the stuttered hiss of pleasure from deep in his throat.

“Kiyoomi?” you ask again from the other stall, voice uncertain. “Did you say my name? I thought I heard you…”

It takes him a long moment to catch his breath, and another to work up enough control to straighten and raise his hand to the spray, letting the cum wash off his skin and down the drain in cloudy white trickles. “I didn’t.”

“Oh, sorry! Guess I imagined it.” You’re back to your cheerful self, humming that brainless melody and soaping yourself up without a care in the world. So gullible. Like always. And it’s not like Sakusa wanted to get caught, but…he can’t help wondering what you’d do if you knew.

Maybe you’d hate him. Maybe you’d call him a creep, stop showering when he does, avoid his gaze when you pass each other in the halls.

Or maybe you’d be into it.

Sakusa finishes his shower at the same time you do, so he can catch you just as you step out of the stall. “Oh—“ you start, barely keeping yourself from bumping into his chest. “Oops!”

Your face is stained pink from the heat of the shower…or maybe it’s the way you’re staring at his bare chest that’s making you blush. Sakusa’s not flattering himself—he knows he’s good-looking, knows what the years of athletics have done for him, and you are staring—but just for a moment before you catch yourself and right your gaze back up to his face, absently watching him towel off his hair. The fact that you let your eyes stray a little gives him permission to do the same, so he takes a moment to examine the lines of your shoulders, your soaked hair sticking to your neck, the dip of your cleavage under the fluffy white robe you’re wearing.

You smell good, all soft and wet and clean. Sakusa can’t help imagining if you taste that good, too.

“Um…s’cuse me,” you say after a moment when he doesn’t move to let you pass through the walkway. You could try to skirt around him, but he’s so big.

“What shampoo do you use?”

You blink and pat your hair self-consciously. “It’s, uh, tea tree oil? It has peppermint and lavender and stuff too I think, it’s really good for waking up in the morning—sorry, I know some people don’t like the smell—“

“No, it doesn’t bother me.” Sakusa’s eyes narrow before he steps out of the way to let you walk past.

I like it, he wants to add. But he doesn’t.

[luminnara]

I honestly had to search up how to send an ask for 10 minutes because this is gonna be my first ever. Popped my cherry — sorry.

Anyways ! I was curious as to how the Boys would react if it was Eddie Munson instead of Billy who suddenly came into Santa Clara ? Man — billy is so beautiful —

I feel like Paul would automatically like him because of him having weed on him and all lol, but the others ? — geeze , I love Eddie so much , 😭 — I feel like Eddie would ramble on about music the whole time whilst just being himself, a tad scared but like , he OBVIOUSLY survived the bat attack on him and dodged death so -

Paul would sniff him out like a bloodhound. Or maybe a truffle pig. Instead of truffles, it’s weed. Paul is a weedhound. A weed pig.

Ive actually posted about this in the past, and you can find it in my stranger things x lost boys tag, but that included Billy as already having joined the lost boys! So if Billy isn’t involved, maybe this is how it would go down:

Poor Eddie, he was just trying to find a town he could settle down in for a while, after everybody in Hawkins tried to kill him and then the whole vecna thing. He went to Santa Carla because he figured he could blend in, since there are so many runaways and criminals there, and on the one hand, he’s right—he totally blends in. On the other hand, he definitely can’t RELAX there lol

There are so many places he could meet the boys. It could be at a party. At a bar. At a concert. Or maybe they notice him as they’re hanging out by their bikes, and they see this kind of clueless (but cute) looking dude wandering around the boardwalk, and at first they think it would be fun to mess with him for a while and then chomp on him…but then they realize that he’s fun and he’s lost, too, so they offer him a place to hang out and they begin to warm up to him. They have a lot of shared interests, like drugs and metal, and he’s so fucking FUNNY the way he rambles and gets so shy when they invade his personal space.

Because Eddie totally likes these guys, too, and he knows there’s something not quite human about them pretty early on. He just has to decide how scared he is of vampires, now that he’s survived the upside down lol

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays

Summary: In which Spencer does not want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

WC: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), Morgan trying to be a good big bro (and wingman)

Spencer Reid does not hate Christmas.

“Reid, come on⎼”

“No.”

“Just listen to me.”

“I did, and it’s a stupid idea.”

No, really. Because hating Christmas would imply he didn’t care. Which he does.

Like when Garcia never fails to drag him into decorating the bullpen every year. Obnoxious Christmas music plays in the background as they bomb Hotch’s office, and it’s worth the smile on his face when he walks in the next morning.

It would mean hating Rossi and his extravagant dinner parties. And yeah, he always hosts but these are just as special if not more so. His mansion is decked in fairy lights and streamers, the food are traditional holiday recipes, and the whole place seems a little less massive.

And he doesn’t hate his breaks. He nearly spits out his coffee when Morgan grumbles about how he almost tripped and fell over from the ice. He has to scramble away as the older man bats at him.

Or when Prentiss drops off holiday-themed pastries? Mhm, just thinking of the ribbon-tied box makes him salivate.

Hating the Christmas card is completely out of the question. Henry and Michael make them every year for the entire team, and JJ makes an effort to shake them out carefully for. It has a boyish charm Spencer never had at their age, a mess of glitter and construction paper. He displays it on his desk anyway.

And you. It would mean hating all the various hot chocolate beverages you’ve made since December started.

Apparently, it’s serious business⎼the art of hot chocolate making. You’ve leaned against his desk, hands waving about as you try to articulate to him the relevance, going over anything and everything you can remember of its history and significance. Of course, he knows all of this already, but he likes you too much to stop you. He almost releases a loving sigh. Instead, he settles for nodding and grinning at you, and he doesn’t really get it but he loves it: the hot chocolate, your pensive expression as you await his critique, even though by now he’s sure you know he has no other comments except ‘delicious’.

He loves it all. He loves you⎼all of you guys. Obviously.

So, no. He does not hate Christmas.

But that doesn’t mean he loves it either.

Which is why, when Morgan leans against his desk, he greets him as normal, a smile forming on his lips as he sets his book down. There is no danger here, except Morgan’s guns. And the heinous green and red envelope between his fingers⎼

Where the hell did he get that.

Spencer’s blood froze. His collection of trauma was nothing compared to this.

Now here he is, packing away his things so he can go home to his warm, cozy apartment and order takeout like he does every year. He's not one for change. No need to break tradition.

But Morgan is acting like a child. Wait, no, even children are better behaved than this. Children at least give up faster.

“I’m telling you, it’s a good idea.”

“As a certified genius, I can say with all honesty, it is not.”

“I promise you it’ll be fine,” Morgan reassures him, voice soothing. The letter, colorful and bright and an eye sore, mocks Spencer. He wishes his reflexes were faster, so he can snatch the abhorrent cluster of sparkles and poorly printed holiday cartoons. And shred it.

Maybe if he glares hard enough, it’ll burst into flames.

“Morgan, my class hated me. The whole school hated me,” Spencer shoves another book into his satchel. It's harder than he means to, and he sends a silent apology to Stephen King; he usually handles his books with care. But not right now. Now, he's tired and exasperated and he just wants to curl up on his couch with The Doctor. "I'm sure I won't be missed."

"But you’re the life of the party!"

Spencer looks up.

Morgan winces, "Yeah, even I wouldn't believe me.” Spencer snorts, continuing to stuff his belongings into his satchel. Morgan’s relentless however. “But you deserve to show them up. You’ve got degrees⎼plural⎼and you're a hotshot FBI agent.”

“Are you not aware of the tragedy that is my high school social experience?”

“Oh, I'm very aware, and thank you for being vulnerable with me. But it's because I care that I’m telling you.”

Morgan’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, making Spencer pause. He meets his gaze, the man’s expression solemn.

“You deserve to rub it in their faces until the only thing they can smell is your success.”

Morgan grins when that draws out a laugh from him.

Spencer huffs, “Shouldn't we be the bigger person here by not going?”

The older man grimaces, retracting his hand as if the idea offends him. “Fuck that. Be a show off! They deserve to be knocked down a peg after what they did to you in high school.”

Spencer bites his lip. Yes, he’s accomplished, and yeah, as Morgan said, he’s a ‘hot shot FBI agent’. But the memories surge in like a broken dam, cruel laughter and harsh words crashing into him as if he’s twelve years old again. He’s an adult now, so he doesn’t topple over from the impact like before, but the pain is a phantom limb, old and familiar, and leaves a pit in his stomach.

He was a child prodigy then. How would going back as he is now be any different?

Morgan's heart clenches when an unspoken pain flits across Spencer’s face, glossing over his eyes. He can't imagine how deep the emotional scars go, but he knows Spencer needs some form of closure from his past. So when he found the invite, he knew they had to seize the chance. If he wants to continue to move forward, Spencer has to learn to let go. And right now, this is his first class ticket. It’s why he’s pushing this so hard.

This is for Spencer.

But the doctor shakes his head, a strained smile tugging his lips. “Morgan, I had no friends. Even if I go, what am I supposed to do once I arrive? It'd be awkward enough as is.”

“True,” The older man contemplates, a light bulb going off as he snaps his fingers. “You know what you should do? Ask (Your Name) to go with you.”

“(Your Name)?” Spencer jolts, fumbling to catch his phone. Despite being a man of science, his eyes dart around, like you’re a demon summoned at the mention of your name. “Wha-what? Why?”

“They could act as your buffer. And you did say you wanted to be closer with them. This is the perfect opportunity,” Morgan shrugs. Like his suggestion is common sense, logical. Maybe it is.

But this is you they’re talking about. You would never. You’re too cool for a silly high school reunion.

At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself as Spencer’s face pinches. He catches his lip with his teeth. “Morgan, I appreciate the… thought, but I could never ask (Your Name).”

“Ask me what?”

… Oh no. You are a demon.

Spencer whirls around in time to see the glass door shut behind you. You stand there in all your poise and beauty, the fluorescent lights softening your expression. You're bundled up in a matching coat and scarf, the knitted beanie snug on your crown and clashing with your outfit (Garcia told you it’s not your Christmas present, but you’ve worn it everyday since). There’s sprinkles of snow all over you.

You’re not a demon, Spencer decides, even as you brush a clump off your shoulder, nose scrunched in annoyance. More like a snow angel.

You tilt your head curiously when Spencer doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a knowing look on his face as Morgan, realizing the poor guy probably won’t respond any time soon, steps up.

“(Your Name), I thought you went home already.”

You cross the bullpen. “I was. Garcia walked me down and I got to the courtyard. Then I realized she had me so distracted that I left my phone charger,” You rummage around your desk and without looking up, you reiterate, “So ask me what?”

Spencer blinks. “What?”

“You had something to ask me, right?”

Right. That. He runs his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t⎼oof.”

Morgan jabs his side, “Yes, there is something Reid needs to ask you.” He sends him a meaningful look.

“Shoot.” You nod to them before rifling through your desk drawers. Nope, not there. You card through files and office supplies, oblivious to the conversation Spencer and Morgan have with their eyes, shooting looks and mouthing at each other.

You bend over your desk as Morgan gestures, Ask them!

Spencer shakes his head vigorously, No!

Do it, or I'll do it for you, he mouths.

Spencer squints at him. You wouldn't.

Morgan smirks and Spencer's heart drops to his stomach. Before he can run, shout for help, literally anything, the man slings a buff arm around his shoulders, forcing Spencer to slightly bend down to his level, hugging him to his side.

He's trapped. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Fuck.

“Reid is going to his high school reunion,” Morgan starts, biting back a grin when the nerd squirms against him. Both men boys watch, one excited and the other petrified as you disappear behind your desk.

“That’s nice.”

"Yeah. But all his classmates are older than him and married…“

“Uh-huh…” You scan the dark floors, half-listening as Spencer frowns at the unnecessary detail. He never told Morgan such a thing. He didn’t even know, so how would Morgan-?

“So, can you guys pretend to be a couple or something?”

Thud.

“What!?”

Luckily, neither of you notice the other’s surprise as Spencer chokes on air at the same time you let out a pained hiss.

Morgan lets him pull away, withholding a snicker. “You good, (Your Name)?”

“I’m okay!” Your head pops up from under your desk as you rub the top of your head. You blink owlishly. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to pretend to be your partner?”

“Yes! But Reid’s partner,” Morgan emphasizes, slapping the doctor’s back hard enough he nudges forward.

You stand and Spencer straightens up, trying not to fidget as your gaze burns into his. You’ve known each other for quite some time now, and while Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well, it bothers him when your expression becomes unreadable. He knows it shouldn't but it does. He’s a profiler, yet your thoughts are completely obscured by a mask. It only makes him more nervous than he already is.

His skin feels hot when your eyes trail over him, and he prays his scarf is enough to cover the flush spreading from his neck.

He's about to disintegrate when you finally answer.

"Okay."

His brow shoots up and his heart flips. You move away from your desk as he sputters, "Really? Are⎼are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your way.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Why?” You step closer, and he can’t breathe, not without it hitting your face. You stare him down the bridge of your nose, eyes narrowed. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

“What? No, of course not!”

You raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Then it’s settled? We’ll pretend to be a couple for your reunion thing?"

A beat of silence. Spencer realizes you're waiting for his confirmation. But panic rises like bile in his throat and he hesitates.

Maybe he should back out now, retract the entire conversation and take the embarrassment like a man. Tell you he was never planning to attend the stupid reunion because his classmates were (and probably still are) assholes. Honesty is key to any relationship after all.

Especially between coworkers. Ahem.

A flicker of movement and Spencer glances over your shoulder. Morgan nods frantically at him, teeth flashing as he grins wider than before. He gives him two thumbs up.

Maybe, for once, he should pull a Morgan and just vibe it.

Yeah. Yeah!

Swallowing, he nods to you, giving you his signature white-person smile because he's sure if he speaks he might blurt out something completely inappropriate. Like statistics on workplace relationships (they’re great reading material, okay).

Your lips quirk up. "Cool. Text me the details when you get the chance.”

You brush past him before he manages a reply, your footsteps fading. Morgan waggles his eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer blankly stares after you.

“What just happened?”

“You just got a date to your reunion. A fake date, mind you, but you’re welcome nonetheless,” Morgan smirks at him. “So, you got a plan, Pretty Boy?”

His face falls, and the hearts in his eyes⎼shit, had they always been there?⎼chip slightly.

He does not have a plan.

Deleted scene:

“Did you do it?”

“It went all according to plan, Mama.”

AN: I fucked myself over and wrote 7k+ and still counting. Now it’s an unplanned holiday mini series. This kind of stems from Bonding as this uses Mysterious!Reader. Also, I seem to be into pining (fuck established relationships, suffer in silenceee). Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope you still enjoy this one shot!! 

One of the biggest disappointments of CM: Spencer doesn’t confront his high school bullies. I read several fics of him doing so, but a lot of them have the bullies be just as much of an asshole as they were to him in the past, but he deserves more closure. 

This will be my take on it. It’ll be a lot of pining but I hope to focus on the his hardships in a less angsty, dramatic way.

Hope you enjoy it!! There will be at least 3 parts?

Also, spread the usage of the term ‘partner’, which can be used for same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.

[thebrochtuarachs]

Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 2”

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry this chapter came a little bit later than I intended but here it is. I've had some family things I need to take care of so in order to rest, the writing got put on hold. But do know that this story is on my mind and I hope you enjoy this update :) Stay safe and as always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.

AO3  / C1: A Day In June / C2: Definitely, Maybe / C3: So We Meet Again / C4: Friday Lunch / C5: Finding Solid Ground / C6: Situations / C7: Interruptions / C8: A Month Apart, Part 1

XXXXX

The call was scheduled beginning Claire’s lunch and Jamie’s dinner. They opted for this time since Claire’s schedule was clear for the rest of the afternoon and Jamie was happy to stay up late for this. Her supposed agenda that day was to get some research and paperwork done but after what happened yesterday, she knew they needed to have a conversation.

Gathering her laptop, lunch and paperwork, she settled on her desk and waited for Jamie’s call. And right on time, his caller ID pops up in her laptop and she accepts.

“Hi, Claire.” Jamie greeted from the other line. Just by the way he addressed her so formally immediately told Claire just how nervous he was.

“Hi, Jamie.” she chimed back. Hoping to light the mood, she decided to take the lead in the conversation. “What time did you get home?”

“Erm, got home around 6:30, 7:00PM. Freshened up a bit and for food - well,” he held up the take out box from the table to show to Claire. “Thanks for these” It was a box of their favorite comfort food and Jamie could not feel any much more relief. “How about you, what’s for lunch?”

“Oh, it’s sub day today here at the hospital. So got the biggest one I could order to last me the day.”

“Any food over here in Scotland ye miss?”

“Honestly, the chicken! I’ve tried some here but nothing tops Mrs. Kim’s” As Claire shared that sentiment, Jamie took one wing on his mouth, prompting Claire to roll her eyes. “Right, rub it in, will you”

“Don’t worry, I’ll treat ye to some once yer back.”

“I’ll record that raincheck”  After a short laugh, the line went silent. They both knew it was time to address the elephant in the room.

“Claire, I want to let ye know what happened yesterday.” Jamie began. Claire was silent, a hesitation etched on her face.

“Are you sure? You don’t really have to -” Claire replied, hesitation etched on her face. The past three months of Jamie and Claire dating has been kept much in the down low with none of the tabloids catching drift of one of Scotland’s most eligible with the pediatric doc. It was unusual but they accepted that gift of privacy. It allowed for them to get to know each other freely and without much pressure so far.

But now, things have slightly changed with Jamie back in the spotlight, worse, linked to another woman. With all the things they’ve discussed so far, these - their past, the media - were not one of them yet. With that, it’s not that Claire didn’t want to hear Jamie’s story - it’s that she didn’t want him to feel forced to share something he or they aren’t ready to talk about yet.

“Just...please” he pleaded.

Claire took a swig of her coffee and nodded.

-

Flashback

Jamie was nearing his house when his father suddenly called. Clicking the screen on his dashboard, he answered his call.

“Yes, Da?”

“Hi lad, where are ye?” Brian Fraser spoke from the other line.

“I’m near home now. Why?”

“I just got off the phone with Lord Dunsany and he’s inviting the family for dinner.”

“Where will it be?”

“At the Number One”

“Alright, I’ll be there in 20, see you and ma, I hope!”

Jamie sighed but putting his family first overweighed whatever he was thinking about.

He honestly didn't like the Dunsany's that much. There was an air to them that didn't sit well with him but he shrugs them off as 1.) They are long time family friends, and more importantly, 2.) long time business partners.

Both their families have benefited from a decades-long relationship that going to unexpected dinners like this is something he just has to do once in a while. He turns his car to the next corner and heads to the restaurant.

Arriving, he hands his car to the valet and enters the restaurant to find their table. He should not have been surprised but seated on their table was his mam and da, the elder Dunsany’s and their eldest daughter, Geneva.

Again, after knowing each other for a long time, Jamie isn’t and wasn’t blind to Geneva’s attempts to flirt and get him. He was able to avoid it for so long as he’s always been respectfully direct with declining her advances. But as they grow older, the more persistent not only Geneva, but little by little, their entire family is joining in this cause to get them together.

Jamie took a deep breath and prepared himself for whatever was to come. He sat down and immediately took note of the other people he wished were there. “Hi Mam, Da” he greeted his parents with a kiss on the cheek for his mother. He proceeded to his seat, acknowledging their guests. “Lord, Lady Dunsany, Geneva” he bowed to them and they returned his greeting. “Is Gideon and Isobel not joining us?

“They had other things to do” Geneva quickly replied, leaving it at that.

The night proceeded as usual, business talk over dinner. The Dunsanys are looking to expand their real estate business to the Americas and want to get the Frasers opinion on their dealings. On the topic at hand, the dinner was quite enjoyable as it was a conversation Jamie was happy to chime in.

Geneva, to his few observations, was relatively quiet for some reason. Maybe because she didn’t understand it as much since she  wasn’t as involved in the family business unlike his siblings, opting to work as a brand ambassador or influencer through her big social media following.

But it didn’t feel like that to Jamie. It seemed like she was waiting for something to happen or come up. She kept looking at her father urging him to do something but he discreetly pacified her everytime she got impatient.

After a few more minutes, Jamie’s hunch would prove right.

“So, in addition to the planned expansion, Geneva here has finally accepted our offer to join the business and she’ll be heading to the U.S. to study and eventually, train and oversee the project on behalf of us.” Lord Dunsany shared. The announcement came as a shock to the Frasers though they didn’t let it show. They offered their congratulations to Geneva which she graciously received.

“Jamie, lad - “ It was Lady Dunsany’s turn to speak. “We’ve heard in the past from your parents that you’ve been planning to take further studies as well. Why not accompany Geneva and study overseas together?”

“Your family also has some business in America. You can continue to work as well from there if you wish be. Plus, it’ll give you time to maybe get to know our little girl better.”

So, there it was. Lady Dunsany winked at his direction as she and Lord Dunsany tag-teamed to put out this request. Geneva, for her part, nodded furiously and was shameless at showing her agreement to their proposal. Her eyes gleamed with hope as if it was already a done deal.

Jamie was dumbfounded on their very bold request. He looked at his parents for help but they seem to be at a loss of words as well.

“I, uhm, - “ Jamie braced himself, unsure what the consequences of this be. “Thank ye of thinking of me but I have to respectfully decline the offer.”

“Do ye not want to study anymore? You don’t have to decide right now about this, please take your time to consider. We’re not in a rush anyway.” Lord Dunsany replied, trying to control the conversation once again. However, his last statement sent death glares down his direction from his daughter.

“No, it is still in my plans.” was Jamie’s plain answer. The table was silent for a good 10 seconds when the implication of his response sunk in.

“Are you saying it’s me you don’t want to be with?” Geneva’s tone was calm and angry, her resolve was slowly dissipating, raising everyone alert on the table.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s more of me...not wanting to leave someone behind.”

Geneva had a confused look while all four parents’ interest piqued at this new information. Jamie closed his eyes to muster the courage to get through the next minutes. He turned to his parents, addressing them directly, while being mindful of their guests.

“This is not how I imagined telling ye guys this, and of course to you Lord and Lady Dunsany, Geneva” he acknowledged them one by one before focusing on his parents again. “But I’ve started seeing someone and it’s fairly new...”

“That is ridiculous! You haven’t been seen with anyone in ages! I mean I would know if you are, our social circles are not that wide…” Geneva started reasoning to herself. “Unless… she’s not?”

Jamie didn’t react or say anything that would give Geneva or the Dunsany’s any more ideas they can prod on.

Geneva quickly fetched her phone and nibbled with it. She turned to the guests and excused herself. “I’m sorry everyone but I have to leave. Jamie, walk me to the car?”

Jamie nodded and stood up. He may have dropped a ball on her but he’s still a gentleman.

On the way out of the restaurant, he can hear more interrogation from Geneva in his periphery. “Who is she? Do I know her? Is she from here? Is she even real?”

It was one fast question after the other and Jamie didn’t bat an eye but rather, lead her by the arm to get her going a little bit faster. Once they were out, he didn’t notice anyone except her car and driver. He escorted her in and bid her simple goodbye.The last thing he heard Geneva say was it wasn’t over and that they’re going to have another talk on this.

When he got back to the table, the foursome was on to dessert, the earlier conversation seemingly forgotten and passed. When dinner was over, they went their separate ways.

Jamie walked his parents to their car when Brian made a joke to break the ice. “What a night, huh?” Ellen giggled which made their son comfortable speaking with them.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I didn’t mean to make it awkward but I couldn’t find a way to lie about it or give them false hope.” Jamie explained and Brian and Ellen were happy to give him some slack as he knew it was the right thing to do.

“I know, son. But what we are more surprised to hear is about your new friend.” Ellen pried and the smile that Jamie flashed just told them this was different. “What’s her name?”

“Her name is Claire” Jamie shared.

“And?”

Jamie jokingly shrugged. “She’s a doctor and we met around 3 months ago.”

“3 months and we haven’t heard of her?”

“Well, in my defense, Angus and Rupert have met her. I assumed they would babble it straight to ye.”

Brian and Ellen was just shaking their head. “Well, we need to remedy that, lad. If yer ready or such, we’d love to meet her.”

-

“So that’s what happened last night. As for the picture, I’m guessing there’s a pap I did not see outside the restaurant and - my parents want to meet ye.“ Jamie said in conclusion. “I mean there’s no pressure really but I wanted to let ye know.”

“Oh, wow. Okay.” Claire took a bite of her sandwich and sip of water. “So, how are you in all this?”

“What?” that was the last question Jamie thought Claire would ask. “How am I?”

“Yeah, I mean what are you feeling?” she looked genuinely concerned and it baffled him.

“Is this some sort of reverse psychology thing cause I know you have questions Claire and I’m more than happy to answer them”

Claire smiled briefly and raised a hand to settle him. “I know you are and I do have them. And this is not some psychology thing too” she laughed at that. “But before anything else, I want to know how you are.”

“I - “ Jamie let out a breath and released a tension he didn’t know he was holding in. He wants to be open to Claire but he wasn’t sure just how much yet. Their growth has been slow, gradual, and intentional, and the pace was working well for the both of them. But this situation did not fit that criteria.

“It’s okay” Claire assured him, breaking his thoughts and easing his hesitation.

Jamie nodded and began. “With Geneva and the photo, I’m frustrated. I hope you know that this part of my life is not something I wanted to hide from you, Geneva especially. It’s just not something I thought about us talking about yet. With the media, maybe I was buying us some time before they got a whip of this, of us, when this needs to be public, and of course, I need to know how you feel about that, but then again, conversations for a later time. As for my parents, a little anxious but more intrigued on how you feel about it.” He was out of breath after explaining that it was his turn to take a sip of water.

“Jamie” Claire called and Jamie leaned on his screen closer. “I honestly don’t know what exactly to feel about Geneva at the moment. I get it, you have a long history and you might feel it doesn’t but it amounts to a little something. Was I surprised? Definitely. Jealous, to be honest, surprisingly not. But I would love it if you could tell me more about this and your family when I get back.”

“I’ll tell ye everything, Claire” Jamie affirmed.

“Doesn’t have to be everything at once” Claire joked and thankfully, Jamie laughed. “As for meeting your parents…”

“You don’t have to decide on that now, Claire.”

“I know. No pressure . But...” Claire smiled. “...if you feel like the time is right, let me know.”

Jamie felt relief as he flashed a breathless smile, looked up and wiped his face with his hands. Claire, on her end, put her elbow up on the table, leaned her head on her hand, and just observed him.

“Happy?” she asked.

“Very” Jamie replied. “I canna wait till you’re back, Sassenach.”

“I know, me too. Just one more week. Now,” Claire shuffled some papers around. “I do need to get back to work and you need to go to sleep”

“Aaah” Jamie pouted and looked at his watch, it was almost 10PM. “I can stay a little bit more, keep ye company.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me if you come in late to work tomorrow.”

“Eh, can’t promise that.” Jamie jokingly shrugged. “So, how’s your day so far?”

And just like that, after an uncertain overnight, everything was back to its good place again.  

[g4rous]

Sunlit memories (Garou x reader)

tags: slight mentions of blood, no warnings really

words: 1.3k

notes: hi lol finally dropped the second chapter of the fic, feel free to tell me your thoughts again it means the world 💕

series masterlist

previous chapter

Chapter two

It had already been a week since that odd encounter with the mysterious guy, nonetheless you didn’t think much of it. The days weren’t as scorching as before, tempting you to go to the park to sketch even more. On one of your strolls you’ve noticed a cat lazing around your building and much to your glee it let you pet it almost every time it passed by. Despite occasionally having some work on your hands you even managed to clear away those 2 month-old boxes from when you first moved into your new apartment, finally tempted to call over a friend or two so they could see what you did with the place. At last you were getting used to the city and routines.

Well, at least that’s how you wanted it to be.

In reality the past week has been intriguing as it was chaotic. Monsters have been popping up and wreaking havoc even more fluently than before, making you question was moving here a mistake. Your daily strolls in that peaceful park reduced greatly with so much unease in the air. Even passing by one of the cafés wasn’t as soothing as before, since instead of music you only heard the citizens’ nervous chatter and rumors, most prominently about some “nutcase that hunts heroes for a hobby”. At this point walking home alone even after a relaxing day seemed straight up spine-chilling. To top it off “that dude” from before coincidentally just happened to cross paths with you almost every day, and you weren’t sure was it plain hilarious or just ridiculously awkward.

Be it at that same, now mostly deserted park from before, catching him speaking to some kid with a book in hand, or just in the passageway of one of the many alleys in the city, your curiosity grew even more. And the fact his occasional bruised, even bloody form caught your eyes more than once didn’t help. Even so, you’d always give a small wave, which he would (awkwardly) return. Truth be told, you were keen on actually starting a normal conversation with the man whose name still remained unknown. Why not? He doesn’t seem ill-mannered despite all the mystery surrounding him, too bad your plan to befriend often got spoiled by the fact he always seemed so preoccupied with something.

And here you are, waiting for the coffee machine at the nearest mini-market to deliver your drink while trying desperately not to glance over to that same man picking out what bag of chips to steal. (And yes, you bore witness to that before as well.)

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you sighed internally, keeping your eyes on the drink in-the-making.

Oddly enough, this actually seemed like a good opportunity to say hello. The machine finally finished its work, allowing you to take a good whiff of the delightful hot drink in your hands before taking a long waited sip.

“Eh, isn’t as good as when I make it but this’ll do.”

After glancing at him one more time, you mustered up the courage to walk in his direction. Though, as soon as you turned around someone else bumped into you, almost spilling your drink. A hero, to be exact. A tall man with black markings on his eye matching with his onyx hair, beside him three more who you couldn’t identify; one practically naked, the only clothing on him being a thong, heels and butterfly wings, one with light blond hair decorated with a peach headband and the last one wearing a dark expensive-looking suit with avocado patterns. Definitely didn’t see that one before.

The tall one was quick to apologize, to which you only gave a small, reassuring smile. Trailing your eyes to the other three, you noticed their stern, focused expressions, giving you the impression they didn’t come here for some junk food and sweets.

“Wonder what they’re up to,” you pondered after taking your eyes off them.

“Well, doesn’t matter to me anyways.”

After taking a small circle around the isle in front of you, the silver-haired teen was at long last close enough to converse with. Despite being right next to him, much to your surprise he didn’t bat an eyelid after you gave your signature wave.

“Um, I’m sure you already saw me when you came in but still-” you continued with a nervous smile“-I felt like I just had to say hi.”

And again you were greeted with more silence before he finally took the chips and turned the other way.

“Ah, sure. See ya then.”

“Yo, what?”

Was this some kind of a joke? Even that one haughty girl you remember you disliked in middle school wouldn’t give a response so numbingly dry.

Before you managed to ask any more questions, the man glanced over at your direction for a brief moment.

“Quit talking, they’re gonna think we’re friends or something.”

Standing there with a deadpan expression, drink still in hand you watched as he nonchalantly exited the store without the clerk noticing that unpaid bag of chips. At this point you regret even thinking about befriending him.

“So much for socializing,” you rolled your eyes and took another sip.

“Might just get a bag of chips myself. And pay for it.”

Sunlight shone from the store’s humble display window onto the handful of isles, making it look like a scene from some nostalgic 90s movie. Lost in thoughts, you stared at your sunlit reflection on one of the glass panes. The radio played one of your favorite songs, making you wish to stay in that comfy mini-market just a minute or two longer. Well, if only you didn’t turn around to see a bald man with a ridiculous-looking outfit and a horror-struck face trying to bargain the clerk to accept his expired coupons.

“Yeah, let’s just get out of this store already.”

Despite all the eccentric behavior you bore witness to today, one thing was still faintly clinging on to your mind as you walked down the almost empty street. Still somewhat irritated from that remark earlier, you’ve began to wonder what was that about in the long run, but on second thought you didn’t feel like getting any more annoyed.

You let out a small sigh before glancing at your phone. Looking ahead, now you were somewhat tempted to take a few good pictures of the sunlight reflecting on the eerie looking district about a hundred meters away. It was a ghost town filled with ghastly rumors, even so still incredibly intriguing.

“Huh, I wonder does anyone live there?”

However the instant those thoughts came to mind, your attention was drawn over to the alley on your left with its ruckus. You could’ve sworn to have heard some men shouting, yet before you even thought of retreating the other way you had already caught a glimpse of the commotion.

Two men lay sprawled out on the concrete, that half-naked hero and the one with the peach headband, both with a battered face. And if that sight didn’t stop you in your tracks, the familiar man behind the other two standing heroes from the store did.

That same silver-haired teen smirked at the two men equally battered as the ones unconscious on the floor. In spite of the blood trickling down his bruised fists, he kept an unshakeable stance. To say you couldn’t believe what you were seeing was an understatement. Just who the hell is this guy and what was he doing?

Just as he was seemingly about to make a remark towards the two heroes your presence caught him by surprise, which the two used slyly for an attack.

One made what seemed like a small smokescreen and afterwards all that was heard was the sound of the old parts of the building’s walls crumbling down. For a moment you were unsure whether to call someone to help or just back away from the scene altogether, not that it mattered since all you heard was a loud shout before black clouds overcame your vision.

[liquid-luck-00]

My Life is One Complication After Another 3

Cursing Ahead 🤬

Ao3 *** First *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Mari's classmates stopped talking with her, they also stopped asking her for favors. Along with a blocked and rotating schedule for patrols meant that she actually had a sleep schedule. Sure she didn't get nearly enough but that was what coffee is for.

That was how she found herself down in the bakery with her papa. Roy had called her and the four of them talked and it was comfortable. Mari was the one who opened and was watching the front. She was still talking with Roy, but now it was on a headset, as he was out patrolling In Starling City.

"So as I was saying before we were oh so rudely interrupted." came Roy's voice in her ear. "So Ice cream and movies?"

A soft laughter escaped her and a smile on her lips.

"Sounds gre..." the bell at the door chimed. "Hey guys come in," she greeted the Waynes.

"Let me guess the bats?" Roy supplied as Dick bounced towards the counter.

"Good morning Marinette!" Dick practically sang loud enough for even Roy to hear.

"God how the hell is he so chipper so early." she heard Roy grumble.

"God damn morning people," she grumbled. That elicited laughter from both Roy and Jason.

"Amen to that!" Tim seconded in a monotone lifting a coffee cup. "Maman I'm going to take the Waynes up." she called poking her head into the kitchen. Her Maman nodded so she picked up her phone and walked towards them.

"I'll Let you go," Roy was about to hang up.

"Wait how about we give the Bats a heart attack." she smirked changing to the ancient language of miracles.

"I like the way you think, I'll catch you later." he responded in the same tongue.

"See ya then." she smiled, switching back the language. Ending the call and removing the ear piece. “Are you guys coming or do I have to drag you guys?" she turned back already at the door. Granted most of them showed confused faces and side eyes, but she smiled. They followed her without saying a word.

Once they were in the apartment she excused herself to change into more appropriate gear. She activated Kaalki’s miraculous, who then silently portaled out.

That being said she changed into a pair of black skinny cargo pants with red combat boots. A black long sleeve shirt under a cropped red sleeveless hoodie. Her hair was half down with red and pink streaks and a mini white gold backpack with three patches in the same white gold finished her outfit. She grabbed four parcels and went down.

"So we can either do the boring ground tour or," she held up the bundles. "we can turn up the speed."

"I like the way you think Pixie Pop." Jason stood and she handed him his.

"Roy sent me you guy's sizes, so I altered and customized a few things." she smiled. "bathroom is over there and the guest room is next to it." Dick looked torn between excited and horrified when handed his stack.

Tim seemed awake, but she knew better, "go change and I'll have a fresh pot of coffee ready." He nodded robotically as he got up.

She set the last bunch next to Damian, who was looking like an angry kitten. She sat down next to him and leaned in.

"What are you.." he started but Mari whispered in his ear.

"The jacket has a hidden sling for a katana, which will be practically invisible when on." His eyes widened slightly and there was a bit of slack in his jaw now. Before turning into an amused smirk. "Use my room up the stairs and through the hatch." she finished as he headed up the stairs.

"I'm impressed he let you close without struggling," Bruce broke his silence, as she finished prepping the coffee maker.

"Well he would have if," she began as Damian practically crashed down the stairs and all but tackled Bruce before rushing out the door. The closest she had ever seen her baby brother smile, which effectively made her smile.

"Holy crap! What are you?!" Dick made himself known.

"More importantly what the fuck did you do with Demon spawn!" Jason shouted from next to Tim, who was being propped up by both Jason and Dick.

"Tt. I am right here Todd." The scowl reappearing on his features. "It is adequate Dupain-Cheng."

"I'll take it as a compliment on one condition."

"And that is?" he rose a brow.

"You call me Marinette not Dupain-Cheng. I'm your sister aren't I?"

He seemed to war with himself for a moment before stating. "That is acceptable, Marinette."

At this point all the bats in the room were playing a game of ping-pong between Marinette and Damian. They were trying to figure out what magic spell Marinette must have used, when in reality she just seemed to fall into Damian’s good graces automatically. OK so maybe Marinette being the holder of the ladybug miraculous as well as being the great guardian of the order has that affect on most people, a sense of respect and trust that seems to permeate her aura.

She was handing Tim a huge mug as the front door swung open to reveal her Maman.

"Hello Bruce," Sabine greeted.

"It is good to see you Sabine," was his response.

“Maman," Mari pulled her mother's attention from her biological father. "These are Bruce's boys and my brothers. Tim, Jason, Dick, and Damian." she motioned to each one respectively.

"It's nice to meet all of you." Sabine smiled, "why don't all of you get something from the bakery before you go."

After finishing their small breakfast in the park Mari pulled out a map and a marker.

"So what do you guys want to see?" They listed off places that she marked down. She added a few to the list to fill it out, marked the route and took a picture and sent it to Roy. "Okay so this will work." she glanced at her phone. A quick look on social media showed no one has found Andre yet. She pulled out a case of comms and added, "Also keep your eyes out for Andre."

"Who is that?" Dick asked taking the earpiece.

"Andre's Ice cream cart, the best ice cream in Paris." Marinette answered.

"Then why must we look for him?" Damian added.

"Well he changes locations daily and turns it into a game of tag of sorts."

"Alright, lead the way Pixie." with a smirk she dashed off her brothers close on her heels.

Yes this is the best way to get to see the city, but this was also a test to see how the bats did without their toys.

Getting to Notre Dame was uneventful. Dick kept up a steady conversation with her, just a step behind with Damian, Jason brought up the rear but would constantly toss in quips and questions. Damian and Tim were mostly quiet, unless they were trying to get one of their brothers to stop a particularly embarrassing story.

Getting to the Louve was even more entertaining. Now that Dick had a feel for the Parisian roofs he would do flips and vaults to make her laugh. In the Louve is another story.

They had accidentally ran into some of her classmates, quite literally. She and her brothers were taking goofy 'walk like an Egyptian' group photos on the second floor of the Egyptian exhibit, the mini Ladybug camera was reattaching to her phone charm when Tim began asking her questions about it.

"Well my best friend loves anime, and we kinda sorta binged the entire Dragon Ball series and when we saw the ladybug camera. He said it would be impossible to create and maintain the quality of the image. So I kinda sorta made it out of spite." she mumbled the end.

"Hell if you weren't my sister I would beg Bruce to adopt you," Tim stated. "Do you have the files I would love to look through them. Maybe send them to Babs or Cy!"

"Sure I think I have it on a flash drive." That was when a tall body, walking backwards slammed into her, pushing her into Jason. "oof."

"You okay." Dick was in full mama hen mode fretting over her.

"I wasn't watching where I was going." the figure spoke as he turned around. "I'm sor." the words died on his tongue, Kim.

Max, Alix, Nino, Alya, and oh kwami no Lila, who were now all snickering.

"I'm fine Dick," she smiled to reassure him. However her classmates were shocked.

Lila of course was the one who broke the silence, by beginning to cry. "I'm so sorry about her. I know she hates me but to be so rude to a complete stranger!" her sobs breaking the sentence while her lackeys went to console her, glaring daggers at Marinette.

"Seriously girl," Alya began to scold her. "Your little out burst not only made Lila cry. Your insulting someone who is just trying to be nice."

She and her brothers were now standing awkwardly being scolded by a teenager. After three minutes of trying to figure out what they were being scolded for and why the guys hadn't apparently left.

"What the fuck did she do that your yelling at her for?" Jason finally broke Alya's rant. Now it was the five Parisians and the Italian to stand there confused.

"She called him a dick," Alya sighed exasperated.

"Yes." Dick answered confusing them further.

"Dick."Tim now called.

"What?!"

"Dick!!" Damian, Marinette, Tim, and Jason all called, and immediately began laughing.

"What? Oh, oh," a sheepish smile now on his face. “Names Richard but I go by Dick,” he explained to those who weren’t laughing, smiling at them.

"Tt. this is why I call you Grayson." Damian rolled his eyes. "Besides this one still has not apologized." he jabbed a finger to Kim.

"It's not worth it Damian,” Marinette shook her head. "We should head back to the bakery anyways. Maman has probably finished scolding Bruce." she smirked.

"Damn I wish I was a fly on the wall for that conversation" Jason lamented.

"Well..." she held up the ladybug charm and flipped it over showing an empty space.

"Two!" Tim shouted.

"Anyone who beats me back gets a copy," she smiled.

"Your on." Jason nodded as he vaulted over the safety wall from the second floor. Damian and Dick sprinted in opposite directions.

"Sorry Mars your gonna loose." Tim shouted as the last to leave.

"We'll see," she shot back. "Bye," She turned to her classmates as she grabbed the railing above and flipped up and over to the third floor, running to one of the secret zip lines the miraculous team set up.

"What the fuck" was faintly heard behind her, all but Lila and Max shouted by the sounds of it, as she jumped from the window.

She made up quite a bit of distance and seemed to be on Damian's heel. She had passed Tim and Dick was a few steps behind. Jason was just out of arm reach. So with a burst of speed both she and Damian were shoulder to shoulder with Jason.

The three of them simultaneously practically crashed into the side door of the bakery.

"I won."

"In your dreams Todd."

"I beat both you and Pixie"

"Check your eyes, or do you need the camera installed in your helmet." Jason's gaze hardened at Damian's words.

"How about we call it a three way tie and you both get a copy." Mari interrupted. "We should head up." Laughing Marinette opened the door and went up.

Lunch was rambunctious, but she was coming to expect that with her brothers.

“Too bad we couldn’t find that ice cream guy Mari,” Tim spoke up once everyone had finished eating.

“Oh let’s see if anyone has posted where he’s at today!” She went to check her phone but a message ended up distracting her.

Andres in your favorite spot I’ll meet you there at 7 your time.

"Cool he’ s in my favorite spot in all of Paris which just happens to be the last spot on our list today," she announced, sending off a text, setting her phone down, screen up.

Can't wait Katniss

"Why don’t you all go and Mari can get to know Bruce," Sabine offered.

OK granted it’s a good idea, maybe I should get to know my biological father but am I ready to? Do I want to? Am I yes, yes I want to get to know my biological father, yes I want my family to grow, my brothers are such protective goofballs and I love them already.

"Sounds good," she smiled.

That was when her phone lit up from a message. She went to pick it up, but she was to slow.

Jason was the one who snacked her phone. "Message from Katniss says see ya then Peeta. So who's Katniss Pixie."

"Well..." she started but she began to blush furiously.

"That would be her boyfriend," her Maman decided to add before heading back down to the bakery with Papa.

Dick pounced asking a million and one questions, Bruce physically froze but she could tell his mind was racing because that look was much the same as hers. Jason was pensive, while Tim and Damian just seemed bored or tired.

So that was how she found herself talking about Roy, blushing furiously. While simultaneously avoiding his name and details that would tip any of them off. After about a half hour of her answering questions did Dick start telling her about his fiancée. How they were planning on setting a date for the wedding.

After that the next few hows was spent sharing stories and tidbits of themselves.

However, thanks to Dick a design was swimming in her mind. so she did the only logical thing and ran up to her room. Grabbed three drives, her tablet and pen and ran back down. She tossed the red drive to Tim, and Jason and Damian each a black drive. Plopped down and began stretching out an Italian suit with a nock lapel. A rough coloration of a midnight blue offset by a sapphire. Accents of golden thread, emerald buttons and an Osiria rose in the lapel. She signed the design 'Mira Luck' and handed Dick the tablet.

"So I couldn't help myself," she begun to fidget. "But in my defense you told a designer about a wedding and my brain wouldn't stop screaming at me until this was on something. So what do you think? I know its rough but."

"Holy Shit your Mira Luck as in M, Jagged Stones personal designer. You are M as in the designer for the Lucky Spot!!" Tim screamed lunging to take the tablet from Dick.

"That's me," a blindingly bright smile lit up her features.

"So what do you think?" she asked again.

"It's amazing we were actually hoping to talk to you about Kori’s dress." Dick smiled. "I could call her it's not too late there."

"Perhaps it would be best to discuss it in person when Marinette next goes, that way she can get to know Gotham." Bruce interjected.

"That actually might be sooner than you think," she responded.

"I was actually accepted to be an exchange student for the next semester at Gotham Academy."

"Wait you’re willing we going to Gotham to study! You ’re going to Gotham willingly. Bruce I think your daughter might be a little crazy." Jason surprisingly brought up.

"I might be but but it’s no crazier than Paris and it’s a Akumas. Besides I would love to design your fiancée’s dress and we should head over to Andre’s ice cream before the sunsets that way we can watch the lighting of the Eiffel tower." She got up and called out. "Hey Jason mind passing me my backpack."

"Yeah sure," he went around he couch to grab it and toss it to her but before he did he finally seemed to notice the patches. "Wait are these The Outlaws."

"Yeah Red Hood, Arsenal, Star Fire, and Bizarro." she was smiling.

"Why choose The Outlaws?" Tim brought up.

"Honestly it was because Roy mentioned something about Arsenal and Red Hood and I ended up liking of the logos, so I made them into the backpack," she shrugged. "Besides unless you’re looking at it close enough you can’t tell which is always fun to see if people pay attention to it, let’s go."

At that the six of them walked out of the apartment, away from the bakery towards the Palais de Chaillot.

"So what's so special about Andre's Ice cream?" B asked.

"Personally I think he is a meta. But what he does is he can either see your true reflection or that of the person best suited to you."

"So he sees souls?" Tim added.

"Not quite, more like he sees the main qualities of you or your go." she tapped her chin.

"But he is meta,” Tim tried to figure.

"That's the only explanation I can come up with but I have no idea." Marinette shrugged.

"So how does he do it." Tim was now fully invested in this.

"Well you either ask for love or self and he usually does three to four ice cream flavors and gives a short reason."

They were now at the top of the stairs at the Palais de Chaillot looking out at the Eiffel Tower. They stood there as the last of the light faded from the sky. The city was dark for a moment as the Eiffel Tower lit up and slowly the lamps lit up.

"So that's why this is your favorite spot Minnie." A voice behind her chuckled. She turned around and nearly tackled him.

"Hey speedy." she pecked his cheek.

Not a second later did Jason scream, "Roy!"

"Ready for that movie?” Roy asked her an arm around her shoulders.

"Of course," she smiled. "See you guys around."

"What the fuck are you doing in Paris Roy!?" Jason screamed.

"Um... Date night," he answered. The Waynes were now practically surrounding the couple.

"What?" Apparently it was Dick's turn to yell.

"Seriously. I thought you said the bats and birds were detectives." she spoke just loud enough for them to hear. "It's kinda hard to believe with the big bat having a heart attack over there." Sure enough Bruce was seriously hyperventilating.

"Oh mind giving this to LB?" He handed her a small nondescript red box.

"Sure," Marinette took the box, "Au Revoir."

From there they left and oh kwamii did she wish she could replay that again, oh wait I can.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS!!!!

Rex and Quetzalcoatl had a pair of twins that they cared for very much. A girl named Maria, and a boy named Eduardo.

The twins were born on the 25th of September, and that date had arrived so it was time to celebrate their birthday!

In the morning, Mari was peacefully asleep.

Mari: *SNOOOOOOORE!*

Quetz, softly: mijaaaaaaa....

Mari: mmm....!

Quetz: mijaaaaaaa.....!

Mari, sleepily: mama..... I wanna..... sneeeeep......!

Quetz: but mija, it's your birthday today....!

Mari: hmmm.....

Quetz: did you hear me, mija?

Mari: *grumble* ok..... *sigh* I'm getting up already.

Mari got up, still very tired.

Mari: Da hell's my glasses?

Quetz handed her her glasses.

Mari: gracias....

Quetz: you should probably hurry, everyone else is already getting ready.

Mari: who the hell is everyone else?

Quetz: just the rest of the family.

Mari: hmmmm.... okay...... was worried I'd have to deal with a party.....

Quetz: don't worry, we know you don't enjoy those. It'll be just the family.

Mari: good....

After some time getting ready, Maria went out into the living room.

Mari, while yawning: ok.... how long will it take to get there again?

Rex: uh... not too long, maybe an hour or so on the serpent.

Ed: still crazy how fast he can be.

Quetz: well of course my familiar would be fast! It'd be a bit disappointing otherwise.

After a bit of time getting ready, the family went outside to see Quetz's pterosaur outside ready to go!

Quetz: ok everyone! Get on!

The family got onto the large flying reptile.

Rex: ok then. Now just a simple invisibility spell so we're not spotted on our way there.

Ed: radar won't work either right?

Rex: right, I've got everything covered, Mijo.

After that, the beast took off!

After some time in the air, their destination was in sight: Mexico City!

Ed: wow!

Mari: such a massive city.

Quetz: ah, it's been too long since we've been here.

Finally the pterosaur landed and they got off to go out into the city!

Rex: man, this place brings back memories!

Ed: so, where to first anyways?

Quetz: it's up to you guys

Mari: breakfast!

Rex: ok yeah, should probably eat first

*stomachs were growling*

The family went to a nice restaurant for their breakfast.

Quetz: mija, those are a lot of pancakes...

Mari: si, and?

Rex: your mother is just a bit concerned for you is all.

Mari: hmmm, sounds unnecessary.

Rex: also Ed, is that enough bacon?

Ed: hmmm.... maybe.

After breakfast, there were still many things that could be done.

First thing, was visiting the old site of Teotihuacan.

Quetz: *sigh* it's been a very long time.....

Mari: looks kinda.... decrepit.

Rex: kinda par for the course with old ruins and shit.

Ed: ....is there a ball court?

Quetz: si, but I doubt we're allowed to play these days.

Ed: awww....

Next stop, was the Aquarium.

Mari: Shork

Ed: Shork

Rex: ya real fascinated by those sharks huh?

Quetz: don't ya wanna see the penguins?

Ed: Penguins?!?!

Rex: also piranhas.

Mari: PIRANHAS?!?!?!

Next was the Zoo

Rex: mi corazon, it's just a random Jaguar. There's no need to cause a scene.

Quetz: I CAN SEE MY STUPID BROTHER TAUNTING ME THROUGH IT'S EYES!!!!

Mari: Mamá, not every Jaguar is Tio Tez.

Ed: we're gonna get kicked out if you don't stop.....

Rex: really hope there aren't any spiders too.

Another fun site, was the museum.

Ed: so..... this is Piedra del Sol?

Quetz: si

Mari: but... so is your noble phantasm?

Quetz: si

Ed: ....how does that work?

Rex: don't ask too many questions about this kinda stuff. You'll get it eventually.

Finally, it was getting a bit late. So it was time to return home.

Mari: we getting the presents now?!?!?

Rex: si, si. You relax will ya?

Ed: you already know she can be a bit greedy.

Quetz: it's better that you try to relax that, Mija.

When they finally got home, a Large assortment of presents were waiting for them.

Mari: Hell yeah!

Ed: hmmmmmm......

Mari: let's see.... which one first....

Mari first grabbed one with.... very unique wrapping, eyes and other odd things decorated the paper.

When she unwrapped it, what was inside was a plush wolf

Mari: AAAWWW!!!

Ed, opening a similar box, got a plush Narwhal.

Ed: oooooh!

And the horn started to glow

Ed: huh

Rex: ....that's a sword

Quetz: it's definitely a sword

Mari: also, my plush smells poisonous.

Rex: well.... that's par for the course for your Tia Quinny.

Next were.... slot machines?

Ed: so we just... pull them?

Quetz: I guess so?

The twins pull the levers of the slot machines.

The machines spun their slots for a time, until finally stopping on 3 symbols that looked like present boxes. Then out of the machines, popped out tickets for both kids.

Mari: oh

Ed: huh

From Mari's popped out VIP tickets to a Music Festival.

Mari: POG

And from Ed's popped out, a soccer season pass.

Ed: oh word?!

And finally, matching tickets for the two, for "5 hours of use of the Mooncell" from BB

Mari: ......

Ed: .......

Quetz: well that sure is.... interesting.

After that, was another box. Wrapped in blue wrapping paper. The two unwrapped it, and inside were two gecko eggs. Along with incubators and everything necessary to raise lizards. With a lil tag saying "from Calamity" (Chalchiuhtlicue)

Mari: LIZARD

Ed: they're cute!

Next were two VERY big gifts wrapped in bone patterned wrapping.

Mari: gimme!

After Mari unwrapped the gift, what she found was a VERY large obsidian Hammer.

Mari: ah hell yeah!

SLAM

Ed: damn.... ok.

For Ed, was a large Obsidian Club.

Ed: oh fuck, ok.

Rex: there a reason Xolotl decided to give such gifts?

Quetz: good question.....

Then a very deep and loud *CROAK* was heard

Ed: FROGE

Then hopping out, was a very VERY large bullfrog. About a foot and a half in length!

Ed: OH HE'S A LARGE LAD!

Mari: damn.

Rex: mija, look behind that tree.

Mari: hmm?

When Mari looked, she saw a Huge car! Modeled after the Batmobile!

(Tho, with bat theming replaced with skulls)

Mari: HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!

After latching onto the car, Mari was very happy.

Mari: finally.......! I can drive!

Quetz: can we trust her with that?

Rex: we'll play it by ear.

And in a small package near the center of the pile. Was a first aid kit, with a note.

"Happy birthday you two, hope you enjoy the car and frog. And don't forget to stay safe with the first aid kit love, Florence, Julius and Eva."

Mari: awwww.....

Ed: so sweeet....

There were many other presents from friends and family alike, more toys, clothes, even laptops too.

Then it was finally time for Rex and Quetz's presents for the kids.

Boom

Mari: the hell?

Then, out of the trees of the nearby jungle, came a large animal. A dinosaur known as Giganotosaurus.

Mari: oh...!

The creature stomped up to the family, until it stopped in front of Mari.

Mari: holy crap.....

Rex: now you have your own divine familiar too, Mija!

Mari: oh shit!

Quetz: si, wasn't sure why you didn't get one the same time as Ed's Pliosaur, but now we got you one!

Mari: finally!

Quetz: and for Mijo, it may not be as big. But since you already got your Pliosaur. We got you this instead.

In Quetz's hands, was what looked to be an electric eel. Tho it glittered with green sparkles, not unlike that of jade.

Ed: whoa, he's an odd lil guy.

Rex: he's very special too. He's not just any electric eel. But a divine construct at that!

Quetz: si, his name is Onotlachin. The storm fish.

Ed: hot damn!

Ed held the lil guy in his hands, and felt the energy within the fish. It also seemed perfectly fine without water.

Ed: he's amazing, gracias!

Mari: si! Gracias for this!

Rex: no problem you two!

Quetz: si, anything for mis hijos!

A/N: and there's the birthday story. Sorry it came out a bit late. Things happened irl. Hopefully everyone likes it! And the festivities can still continue on throughout the weekend and even longer if anyone wants to celebrate with us.

Tags

@hasbbdoneanythingwrong @havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong @hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong @exmeowstic @grievouslyxorvia @panyum @witch-of-chaldea @chaldeamage-neo @hasnightingaledoneanythingwrong @renmeo @writer-and-artist27

[friggsdc]

Title: little delinquent pt i

part i | part ii 

Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort

word count: 3000~

It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

a/n: Terry as a baby tho with an overly protective big sis/mom reader… I can’t get this out of my head lol. Also batfam are very close with bat!sis reader in this, so lotsa fluffy sibling intimacy. Because I want the fluff haha.

(it actually turned into more plot than fluff sighs)

 idk pairings/haven’t thought of that, I just didn’t know how to tag it so i used pairing tags??? lol despite that, I don’t feel comfortable putting Damian, Bruce, nor Terry in the tags ee;;;; Jason’s not in this chapter but he’s in the tags anyway sighs, he comes in around ch3.

-

A light lit up on one of the many monitors in the cave, a box popping up not a moment later with the alert, attracting the costumed people in the room. Bruce was second to the computers, Tim immediately making certain that the alert said what he thought it said, “Good. She’s back.” He sighed heavily, relieved before trudging towards the car port. Sure he was upset, they all were, but at the moment they were just glad their sister was back and alive. She’d get quite the talking to about scaring them all like this, especially from Tim and Bruce, later.

It almost felt like an eternity as her bike came into view, skidding to a comfortable stop with minimal sound. She took a moment to adjust herself, and they didn’t miss the small form clinging to her frontside. It was aggravating how slow and careful she was being, how slowly she got up from her bike as if the young child she had with her was the most fragile treasure. She shifted so that the bundle was curled up in her arms, messy black hair hiding most features as their face buried in her shoulder, frightened. The kid had to be about a year old or so, they assumed, quiet and trembling in her hold.

Damian stood next to their father, annoyance on his face as he bit back harsh words. Of all the people in the world, like Alfred, his sister was someone he never wanted to hurt. He couldn’t even imagine such a thing. “You turned off your comms,” Bruce stated, she only nodded, not usually one for hiding what she was up to. He went to open his mouth again, but Damian’s cold tone beat him to it, “you were missing all night.” She nodded at him again, lips pursed to keep herself from saying anything.

She was struggling with her feelings right now, incredibly upset at the way her family was staring at her, as if she herself were a child. It was really hard for her right now to be the loving big sister she’s always been since coming to live at the manor. All she wanted to do was forgive them for their mistrust, or to tell them everything to take that distrust away. She hated feeling like a bad guy, and she did her best to stand firm on how she felt, but her resolve was crumbling fast in their presence.

You couldn’t help it, your family had that kind of effect on you, always weak to them and their needs.

You would always forgive them. Always.

Tim was first to rush over, quickly pulling you into a hug (careful of the boy), and a slight tremble in his tensed hands kept you from pulling back. He rested his head on the shoulder opposite the kid’s head, arms refusing to move as the other three strode over. “Stupid, where were you?” Tim mumbled into your shoulder, your response was to bury your cheek in his hair, “I was… we were so worried. You don’t just go dark on us like that, especially not on me, you know that.”

He shifted his head to look you in the face, foreheads pressing together. Reaching up, he gently took off your domino mask so your eyes could meet, him doing his best to stare you down. A silent conversation began, your somewhat desperate look of, ‘I’m sorry, I have my reasons,’ and his shoulders sagging a little, ‘I’m still not happy about this.’

It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment, the latter speaking up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” Dick tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

“Hey, uhm…” Dick coughed nervously now, stomach flipping and looked between Tim and Bruce, “has she… ever made a face like that before?” Tim frowned, shaking his head, “you actually upset her. That’s an accomplishment, Richard.” Tim went to change so he could follow you, wanting to know everything about what you had been doing and where you had been. “I… meant it to be humorous…” Damian just scowled at him, “it was in poor taste, Grayson,” he turned, wanting to change before following you and Tim, curious. Dick just sighed into his hand, knowing he’d have to make it up to you later, or the others would hold it against him.

“Babybat, too? Ugh.”

Usually you handled his joking around without much issue, what the heck?

“Good job. Whelmed yet?,” Bruce turned back towards the bat computer, intent on discovering things himself (and to alert the others, still out looking, that you were safe). After all, there was only going to be so much you’d say (call it a father’s intuition). Dick frowned at his father making fun of him, unamused, “...haha” He grumbled and went to change, following after his siblings with a yawn finding it’s escape (they’d been frantic all night, looking everywhere).

-

“You understand we’re not letting you out of our sight after this, right?” his ears perked up at Damian’s tone, uncertain if he was joking or not. Rounding the corner into a smaller sitting room, he stopped before leaning broad shoulders against the doorframe. “That’s terrifying, Dami.” Dick grinned at the glare his youngest brother sent him, eyes turning to you and the child on your lap apologetically, “Sorry, about before.”

You only waved your hand as if to dismiss the earlier conversation, a sign that Dick took to push off the wall and walk over for a better view, “So, Terrence, huh?” You only nodded, stuck in your thoughts, thinking things over. All your attention was kept on the child snuggled up against you, staring at the other’s in the room with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Dick’s brow raised now that he got a good look.

“Okay, I know I said I was sorry, but…” Damian’s fingers strained to not curl into a fist as he gave Dick a hard, pointed stare, but he didn’t go farther as your hand patted his arm. “Black hair and blue eyes,” Tim sighed at Dick, “I’m just saying.” He shrugged, stopping himself from wondering aloud if the family was cursed.

You could only huff in exasperation as you buried your face in Terrence’s hair, the child wiggling to look up with huge blues. You smiled down at him and leaned back into the cushions, letting him rest against you at an incline, bouncing your leg lightly. His small hands readjusted to grasp onto your shirt, head using your chest as a pillow while he kept watching the men and scrunched his nose.

“So, where’d he come from?” Dick sat across form you, seeing as Damian was sitting next to you on the small couch, Tim in the chair to your other side (all your recon gear was in a pile on the floor next to you). A frown settled on your face, staring at the floor as you kept your face buried in the child’s hair, then shook your head. Stubborn. Tim frowned at you and the child, arms crossed in contemplation, and Damian was staring at the child wide-eyed in amazement (he was so inexperienced). Dick crossed his arms and leaned back, biting the inside of his cheek, “…hey,” your attitude was worrying him, you’d never been this closed off before.

Your eyes shifted from the floor to look at Dick, cycling to Damian and then to Tim, straight faced with having made your decision (even though you had already made it hours earlier). Looking to your family, you took a deep breath to brace yourself, “he’s mine.” All three of the men stiffened, Damian shaking his head, “you weren’t pregnant. Impossible.” 

When your eyes met his, he squinted slightly, your head tilting forwards, his turning away, “tt.” Dick was a bit jealous at how you had such a strong connection with Tim and Damian, wishing he could join in on the exchange of expressions (unfortunately, his innate big brother intuition with his siblings only took him so far. Living in Blüdhaven meant he wasn’t as involved in family as he wanted).

Tim was being incredibly careful as he sized you up, taking in the kid’s appearance and the way you were keeping your eyes on the men like a hawk. Damian had relaxed next to you, shifting his weight to lean against your side as he began poking and prodding at the child. In turn, Terrence just tried to grab at Damian’s fingers with his small hands, at times trying to bite him when his finger booped him on the nose (Damian noticed and started turning it into a game, as if he were playing chicken with a cat and it’s claws).

Terrence became a bit more comfortable, too focused on Damian’s antics, and he let out a small laugh, causing Damian to freeze in place. He hadn’t expected it, too absorbed in the game he had made up and instantly his ears turned red, suddenly self-conscious. The finger that had been frozen in place was hovering dangerously close to Terrence’s face and, taking the invitation, the child bit down. He would have yelped if he hadn’t been so well trained, barely able to contain himself, Damian jerked his finger out of the child’s biting range.

Dick cracked a smile and you did your best to not laugh, Tim however was studying his youngest brother, it was cute when he acted his age.

“So, he’ll be staying here then?” You nodded at Dick, “think B’s gonna be okay with this?” you shrugged, it wouldn’t matter, you’d refuse to give the kid up, “So…” Dick shifted, failing to keep his face straight, “Damian’s not the baby anymore.” As wary of the kid as he was, he couldn’t pass up the moment to tease his favorite brother.

“…Grayson,” Damian glared at Dick before reluctantly looking at the kid, silently agreeing. He wasn’t the baby anymore, “we… will need to outfit a nursery room, then.” Dick couldn’t hide his smile, letting it spread on his face at his younger brother’s quick acceptance, “guess I’m gonna hafta visit more often then if I want to be the best uncle.” Both Tim and Damian’s heads turned in unison at Dick, eyes narrowing in a way that made Dick want to step back, nervous.

“No way, I’ll be--” Tim was cut off,

“As if you could be better than me, Grayson,” he sent a pointed look at Tim, “I will be the best uncle.”

You were just glad your brothers were taking this so well.

“Sure.” Tim deflated a bit as Bruce walked into the room, looking at his boys before turning to you and the child, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak with—” Just like Tim, he was cut off, “I won’t tell you anything about him.” Bruce frowned at your stubbornness, not liking that this was how you chose to respond to the situation. “You’re not getting out of this, we’re going to have a talk,” he stopped himself, correcting his remark after a moment’s thought, “…a few talks, actually.”

“No.” you frowned and he crossed his arms with a more serious ‘I’m your father, do as I say,” look about him. “It’s not up for debate.”

The brothers just looked back and forth, opting to stay quiet instead of getting involved. It did no good when the two of you got stubborn with one another.

“You can’t take him from me.” Your father’s stare softened slightly, shaking his head, “we need to discuss that, too.” Honestly, he wasn’t as interested in whether or not you kept the child, the problem was how quiet you were being about him. Something wasn’t right about the situation, and his preliminary searches came up with nothing. 

He only had a first name, it wasn’t much to go on.

Terrence was staring at Bruce, one of his chubby little hands left your top to shove his thumb in his mouth. The unwavering stare the kid was giving him… if he didn’t know any better, Bruce would think he was being challenged. It took all of Bruce’s will power not to look down at Terrence, he wasn’t great with children, let alone an infant. He was broken from his thoughts of whether or not the kid actually was challenging him, or if he just had no clue about what to do in this situation (he didn’t want to admit it though) when you finally replied.

“You won’t find out where I was.” It was a statement.

He studied and trained hard to make hiding from anyone and anything look natural, you seemed to have been born with the (suddenly annoying) skill.

“Your thoroughness is worrisome.” He sighed, feeling this was going to be a bit… difficult.

The siblings all shared an amused laugh before Dick got back to his feet, another yawn escaping, “I’ll be in my old room, need some post-mission Z’s.” He felt like a zombie walking out of the room, hoping he’d beat the sun before it got too high. “See you and the kid in the… morning…?” He had almost no interest in trying to make his brain work, already resigned to bed. 

“Then, you as well.” Bruce nodded to Damian and with a sigh, he stood up, “alright, father. Good night,” before Damian could leave the room, you were suddenly standing by his side. “Rest sounds good right now,” you avoided Bruce’s disappointed look, watching as Tim rocked forward from the chair to his feet before stretching.

Giving out a small hum, you quickly retreated into the hall with Damian, waiting for neither Tim or Bruce (mainly Bruce). As you left, Bruce turned to Tim, questioning what was going on, “Sorry, but…” he started, “I have no clue about this one…” Tim scratched the back of his head, staring at the floor sheepishly. He felt at a loss, not having been given the silent treatment by you since you were kids.

You were literally in each other’s business all the damned time.

-

Damian walked comfortably next to you, eyes drooping (even though he’d never admit it), and you dropped him off at his bedroom door.

“Night, Dami.”

“Good night,” you gave him a small hug, ruffling his hair as his ears flushed for the second time that night. “You’re lucky I’m going to sleep…” he huffed, hair now a complete mess. He entered his room, leaving you alone to the halls, “I think a quick shower would be nice…” you were walking towards your room now, intent on getting comfortable and relaxing before getting some shut eye. Dick was right, it was an exhausting night.

Hand on the door of your room, staring at the child struggling to stay awake in your arms, you shook your head.

It was worth it.

And you’d do it again. Every time.

-

Tim entered the room hesitantly, no knocking, he was certain you wouldn’t answer, anyway, but he checked to see if it was okay before closing the door behind him. Looking around to gather his bearings, as you had the light off, curtains drawn, and it was nominally darker than the halls, he spotted the top of your head over the edge of the bed. Quickly, quietly, he crept over to stand a few feet from you, but your eyes stayed on the sleeping child in your lap, refusing to look up.

He settled himself closely next to you, sliding down to sit on the floor and leaning against the side of the bed, shoulder rubbing your own. He looked to the child in your lap as well, then gave a small hum before lightly nudging you.  

He wasn’t able to see well, but after adjusting to the lack of light, it became easier to understand his surroundings. It became easier to see your features, to see the kid in your arms, and it was easier to grasp the way you frowned in anticipation when turning to look him in the face.

He wasn’t certain why, but he braced for something, suddenly uneasy.

Your lips moved to form the word, no sound coming out, too terrified the walls would listen in, ‘Cadmus.’

Tim’s eyes widened in panic, the child’s big blues flashing in his mind, and it suddenly felt like everything was coming together. It was the one piece of useful information he was missing, the one piece that you made certain they wouldn’t be able to follow when you disappeared for the night. He looked to the sleeping child in your arms, then back up at you, brain going into overload. How...?

He understood now.

His hand found yours, squeezing tightly, reassuringly.

You slumped against his side, relieved.

He understood.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Badass || Bill Denbrough x Reader

Day 2 of Fictober

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x [gn] Reader

Requested: how about you do a bill x reader where the reader is a badass but still in the losers club???? just came up with it!!! btw love ya work and love ya!!!!

A//n: Aw thank you so much! That’s so sweet of you. Love you too darling, hope you like it 💛💛💛 and thanks for being so patient like the rest y'all 😘 [also i am in no way a badass so I’m sorry, I tried lol] edit: OKAY IM ACTUALLY SO PROUD OF THIS, HOLY CRAP?? And again, i finished and pressed saved draft 30 SECONDS before midnight, so fight me this counts lol i just had to set up the title and tags and stuff on my computer before posting. anyways, thanks for waiting for this request, i hope you enjoy this, like i said, im actually surprised at how proud of this one i am!

Fictober Prompt: “that’s the easy part”

Warnings: Blood

“ROCK WAR~!”

The next thing you knew, rocks were soaring across the stream straight for your head. Luckily for your skull, your reflexes were faster than you remembered and you managed to duck before a giant stone could knock you out.

And yet you still heard a thump?

You peek out from behind your arms, looking behind you to see Richie laying flat on his ass, his glasses askew. You winced before you caught sight of a giant rock near his foot and quickly made a grab for it.

Your glare stretches across the stream, settling on the leader of the bigoted pack. You kissed the rock as you met his eye, a devilish smirk stretching across your face as you wound up. Bowers was scrambling for ammo but you had already released. The rock found its target with a satisfying ‘thunk’ leaving Bowers on his ass clutching his bleeding nose. He pulls his hand away, gaping at the overwhelming amount of blood that had already painted his hand before locking eyes with you.

“KISS MY ASS, HENRY!” You hollered with a triumphant smile. “YOU TWISTED FUCK!”

“What the fuck?” Belch and Victor began scrambling back, looking around desperately for rocks of their own.

The Losers spared wide eyed glances your direction as they unleashed a storm of rocks on the now deeply unsettled Bowers gang. Bill was the only one who hesitated, his wide blue eyes frozen on you when you turned to give him a smirk. You had been looking for ammo and it seemed he had the perfect one. You cocked a brow, your devilish smirk still dominating your face as you gestured to the stone in his hand.

“You gonna use that, Billy Boy?”

You threw a few quick glances across the barrens making sure your weren’t gonna get hit. Luckily morale seemed to be growing scarce over there.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t completely gone.

“Ow,” Bill hissed, right hand clutching his left shoulder. “F-f-uck.”

Your head whipped around on your shoulders again to see Victor Criss’s upper lip twitching into a satisfied smile as he looked at Bill. You returned your attention to your boyfriend and the rock he held out for you.

“Let me,” you seethed.

You snatched the rock up, stomping forward with a wild glare in your eyes that was enough to intimidate the bleach blonde. Victor was already on his heels and running, but you weren’t letting him get away that easy. You threw with all your might and watched with pride as it soared through the air and hit him directly on the spine that was poking through his back. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground, his chin meeting the very rock bed that fueled the fight.

“EAT SHIT,” You spit. “YOU LACKEY ASS FUCK!”

~~~~

“Turn it off!” Beverly cried. “TURN IT OFF!”

The projector in Bill’s garage had quickly turned into It’s stage as It put on a horrific display for you and the rest of your friends. What was just once pictures of Derry, suddenly turned into pictures of Bill’s family - you missed Georgie terribly, having grown so close with him the year before he died when you and Bill first got together. And now you were all staring death in the eyes as It manipulated the very air in the room around you. Every click of the projector put you on edge, the stroking effect and of course the child eating clown tormenting you all.

It was hard to process your own thoughts as they were quickly drowning in everyone’s screams and your own fears. You clutched Bill tightly to your side, your arms linked and your fingers stitched together. Everything was moving so incredibly fast it was near impossible to process until you realized you weren’t holding Bill’s hand anymore.

“Y-Y/n!” He cried, tugging at the back of your shirt before it slips from his grip. “Y/N!”

Mike had already unplugged the projector, that much you knew. But you were fucking desperate. You lunged for the projector, gripping it tightly as you held it high above your head. With a guttural scream, you threw it as hard as you possibly could into the cement floor. It broke instantly into several unidentifiable pieces, the room now completely dark and eerily silent.

Heaving, you finally look up to meet your friends faces. Each of them were gaping at you, an expression they seemed to always be wearing around you.

“Well,” you say finally. “I think it’s safe to say we found It.”

~~~~

“How hard is it,” you seethed, your voice growing in volume. “to NOT wander off? In a FUCKING HAUNTED HOUSE?!”

You took all your anger and fear out on the door Richie was being held in. Your elbows were practically glued to the surface while your fists and forearms repeatedly pounded on the door. First Eddie, now Richie. You swear, these idiots had to me smarter than this.

“Richie!” Bill joined your side, pounding on the door that had closed all on its own.

“RICHARD!” You pounded on the door again, your anger turning to pure fear that was now stinging your throat and eyes as tears began to well. “This is not fucking funny, open the goddamn door asshole!”

Your hand wraps around the doorknob again, and you shake the handle, jostling it around in hopes something will cave. When the door flew open, you didn’t know whether to chalk it up to luck, skill, or it was all still part of It’s torment but you didn’t care. Richie was alive, and tumbled into your and Bill’s grip.

“Richie!” You hugged the boy tightly, then pulled away with your signature glare. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?”

“N-n-no t-time,” Bill says, looking between you and Richie with determination in his eyes. “L-let’s get outta here.”

A muted thump answered before you could. You, Richie and Bill all looked to the source of the noise to see the moth-eaten mattress from earlier was now shifting by itself. It looked as if it was filled with jumping beans. A melon sized lump grew in the center before the fabric split to reveal the disheveled and muddied up head of your friend.

He smiles at your twisted expressions. “Wanna play loogie?”

Your reflexes are faster than your thought process and you run forward. Just as a strange black goo starts to spill from fake Eddie’s mouth, your leg was swinging through the air. Your left foot connected with the left side of his jaw, narrowly missing the sizzling black ink and Eddie’s head popped off his body as you put it across the room.

It sails through the air, his greasy hair catching several cobwebs as it spins. Specks of the goo go flying landing on the walls and ceiling before the small head collides with a disturbing ‘thunk’.

“What the fuck?!”

“Holy shit,”

Eddie’s head lands in the far corner of the room where it rolls back and forth on his right ear before settling. He was groaning as if all the spinning had made him dizzy. The ooze of black goo came out even faster as if he were ralphing, and it was now pooling across the floor and inching towards their feed.

“Oh, that’s fucking GROSS!” Richie looks quickly to you. “And now you made him angry!”

“At least I did something!”

“Guys,” Bill pleads. “C-come on,”

The pool of black tar is spreading fast and you and Richie don’t have to think twice to listen to Bill. You all turn on your heel, only to find three doors instead of one.

Very Scary, Scary, and Not Scary At All.

Not Scary At All was the winner, Bill and Richie quickly decide. And despite your protest that it was all clearly a trick and the doors were misnomers, they opened the Not Scary At All.

“Where’s My Shoe?”

The light was turned on to reveal the severed body of Betty Ripsom and you had promptly decided you had had more than enough.

“WHERE THE FUCK WERE HER LEGS?!” Richie cried.

“I’ve got a guess but I’m not sticking around to find out.” You growled.

You cast a glance behind you to see the tar had eaten up most of the floor, giving you little room to do what you wanted. Luckily, you didn’t need much. You took a few steps back and looked at the door in the center, your eyes settling deep into the crimson letters spelling “scary.” You were certainly glad you realized when you did that unlike the door that held Richie hostage, this one could easily be broken down from where you stood.

You sighed. “I have to do everything.”

~~~~

“WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB, ASSHOLE!”

Richie’s bat swung through the air and knocked the clown back. Pennywise quickly recovered and lunged for the nearest target with a disgusting growl. You quickly scrambled for a weapon as Mike stepped up to bat. He threw the fence iron rod at the monster but it was stopped midair when It’s jaw unhinged and out came several charred arms holding it in place. More and more reached out from inside It’s throat and made a grab at Mike who was fighting back the force of all the arms.

You never happier to have been too slow to save your friend when you saw Stanley pick up one of several spare iron rods off the ground. With a brave determination, he launched forward with a fierce battle cry as his torch came down on the branch of arms that now recoiled, saving Mike. It stumbled back, the charred arms slinking back into its mouth and disappearing and Pennywise stumbles again when Richie kicks It forward and away from him. Unfortunately that brought It right to Stanley.

“Stan, watch out!” Bill cries from your side.

But it’s too late, It’s head had already changed to the same horribly contorted lady that had you had already found attacking your friend. Only this time it was still wearing It’s clown suit, and it was racing straight for Stan.

“Stan!” You cried, already running forward after him only to stop second later.

Yet again Stanley roared, striking the clown across the face with the most furious look you had ever seen on him. Despite the horrifying circumstances, you were quite proud. You quickly fell back into line, ready to fight with the others and you smiled yet again when Mike followed up Stan’s strike with a devastating blow of his own.

The small moment of victory was soon cut short - a pattern you were currently getting used to - when a pair of red tentacles-turned-crab-claws pulled Mike to the ground.

“Mike!” Eddie shrieked.

Mike was able to barrel roll to safety as as It advanced on him. The end of each gigantic claw striking the earth and narrowly missing him and you and your friends quickly followed not knowing what to do. You couldn’t watch it anymore, and you hated yourself for what you were about to do but you knew you would simply never forgive yourself if you lost Mike, or any of your friends.

For what Bill wished was the first time of the summer, he felt you leave his side as you charged headlong into danger. Another guttural scream left you as you hurled yourself onto It’s back, your iron spike in front of It’s neck, both hands on either side of the rod and you pulled as hard as you could.

Pennywise’s disturbing, maniacal laughter grew even scarier, something you didn’t think was possible as he began to suffocate. You let yourself drop back down to the ground, your grip still tight on your weapon as you used your position to pull It down to the ground. It was still laughing through chocked breathes but it had done what you hoped, and stopped, Mike had gotten to safety with the Losers.

And for one glorious moment you felt indestructible. Until you saw it shift before you’re very eyes and your eyes widened, as did the eyes of your friends and Bill. It’s complete figure changed, starting with It’s head. You and the Losers no longer saw a painted lady, a mummy, a horrible memory, an abusive father, or even a late little brother. But they saw you, their friend Y/n, cowering and crying under the iron rod that pinned you to the ground by the neck.

“Please,” It whimpered, bottom lip quivering horribly. “Please don’t. I don’t wanna die.”

The real you was staring at the sight of yourself, the real fake you that you always tried so hard to push down. You knew it was Pennywise, but it was enough to make you choke completely. You were always so confident, and you were good at sticking up for yourself and the rest of the Losers. At least that’s all they ever saw, that’s all you ever let them see. Deep down you were terrified, and much more than that you were terrified that your own fear would get in the way of protecting your loved ones.

Like now.

“Y/n?” Bill’s soft voice called out to you, breaking you from your spell.

You look down at your blubbering face, tears streaking down your cheeks as you begged yourself for mercy. Several pleas leaving your lips when finally you pulled the rod back. Your eyelids flicker open, gazing back up at you and watch your every move cowering.

“Y/n?” Ben asks.

You don’t answer, you just straighten, your demon double cowering beneath you and it only angers you more to know none of this is It’s own fear. It was yours. It was mocking you.

Which was pretty stupid, considering you still had the spike.

You bare your teeth as you summon your strength, throwing the end of the spike into the ground, going right through your throat.

~~~~

You watched with head on Bill’s shoulder as another drop of blood from your palm fell onto the grass. You were trying to think about anything but the pain, and with everything you had faced this summer, you certainly had the pick of the litter.

“It feels different now,” you say, voice quiet. “And not just cause It’s gone, ya know?”

You even hate to let yourself believe that, but for the sake of your sanity and the chance of every getting another night’s sleep you’d have to believe it. And knowing Bill as long as you did, you know he felt it too.

You pick your head up off his shoulder and look to his gaze break away from the hills in the distance to meet your eyes. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and you know for sure he’s thinking it too. Beverly was leaving for Portland, Stan said he heard whispers from his parents that they might be moving and that was all on top of the heavy weight of your guys’ trauma that had already begun to drain everyone.

“A-a-at least we-we’ve got each o-other,”

You smiled, nudging his shoulder with your own.

“Big sap,” you chuckled.

He smiled a little, enjoying the small moment between the two of you. But it disappears when his mind returns to image that had been replaying in his mind nonstop since Neibolt. The image of your cowering form that bothered you so much. He had never seen you - the real you, that was being confronted, that is - so distraught. He gulps, gathering his strength.

“W-what made you s-see that?” He asks.

You don’t answer for a long moment, and Bill fears he’s upset you. Or confused you, but he doubts that is the case. Finally, you look up at him, and lick your lips nervously.

“I’m scared Bill,” you croaked, heart pounding wildly at the admission. “I’m always worrying about you, I’m always worrying about Richie, Mike, Eddie, Stanley, Bev, and Ben. I’m always worried something is going to happen. I’m always scared something’s gonna happen to the ones I love, and I get scared that I’m not gonna be enough to protect them.”

You take a deep breath, swallowing all the air you lost in your unintentional rant. Somewhere during your confession, your gaze broke away from Bill’s gaze and now here you were afraid to even look him in the eye.

There’s another silence that Bill finally ends after a small thoughtful moment.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/n,” he says, pulling your eyes to him. “I-I-It’s part of being h-human.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying your best to banish the image of your cowardly form from your mind. Suddenly the sting of your cut didn’t hurt so bad.

You looked back into Bill’s soft eyes, and shrugged.

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel too great either.”

He nudged you again with a charming smile.

“Well, y-you’re still a badass. Y-You’re always s-standing up for us,”

You chuckled weakly, sending him a smirk.

“That’s the easy part,” you say. “It’s looking out for myself that’s harder.”

“T-t-tell ya what?” You raise a brow at his sudden demeanor. “I’ll be t-the b-b-badass lookin out for you,”

You laughed, leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss that turned his cheeks absolutely scarlet.

You smiled when you saw this. “Thanks Billy Boy. Appreciate it. But I’d still like to work on myself a bit, ya know?”

He smiles again, this time triumphantly. “Deal.”

[plaidbooks]

Flirt it Out

A/N: I got a request from @ghd76 that was: could you write a one shot about Sonny getting super flustered by a female criminal (just a thief or something not a rapist) and he tries to continue the interrogation but she just keeps messing with him with dirty talk etc. And so I did! Hope you all enjoy <3

Tags: none, just flirting (though, I do mention homeless a lot, so if that’s a trigger, beware), also, the briefest mention of rape and pimps--blink and you miss it

Words: 1618

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @reading--mermaid @mrsrafaelbarba @averyhotchner @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

You had always been a good person: you kept your head down at work, you’d give money to every homeless person you saw, you often volunteered in a variety of things around the city. But it wasn’t enough. How could it be? With more and more people losing their homes, it just seemed never ending. Which is why you decided to help in a different way.

Big chain stores were popping up everywhere, and it drove you mad. So, you started shoplifting—only at the corporations, never a small, mom and pop shop. And you only stole food and sometimes baby formula, to give to the homeless or women’s shelter. You were just trying to help people. Plus, stealing from huge stores like that wasn’t exactly hard. And you sort of liked the adrenaline rush, anyways.

You were currently distributing food to a pack of homeless people when you found a body. The girl couldn’t have been older than 15 or 16, and she was beaten and bruised. Miraculously, she was still alive. You quickly called 911, giving them a place and description, before heading off. You didn’t want the cops questioning you.

 ********************

It had been a few days since you found the girl, and you saw in the news that she had been beaten and raped, most likely by her pimp. They were asking for the witness who called in about her to come into precinct 16; Manhattan SVU. But you didn’t want to be involved, not when you yourself were a criminal. Not that you would admit that willingly. But you’d seen law shows; the defense always had a way of digging up personal info on eyewitnesses, and you didn’t want to take the chance.

Shaking it off, you went to Walmart, bags at the ready. You filled the bags with boxed foods, pretended to go through the self-checkout, and headed towards the doors. This particular store didn’t have the person checking recipes, so you just casually strolled out. No one batted an eyelash at you; you wore nice clothes, held your head up high, and exuded confidence. Soon enough, you were carrying the bags down the street, heading for an alley that you knew was a makeshift “home” for multiple families.

It wasn’t until you rounded the corner that you noticed this was the alley you had found that girl in. Two detectives—a greying man and a blonde woman—were talking to a homeless man when you entered the alleyway.

“Oh, that’s her right there,” the homeless man said, pointing to you. Both detectives looked to you, then started coming towards you slowly.

Your first instinct was to panic and run, but you stopped yourself. If you did that, then they’d think you were guilty of something. So, you held your ground, ignoring the detectives and starting to pass out food. The detectives were stopped by the homeless gathering around you, and you fought a smug smile.

“Excuse me, Miss?” the male detective called.

You glanced at him before turning back to your task. “Can this wait? I’m a little busy right now.”

“No, it can’t,” the blonde said. “Were you the one that found the girl here a few days ago?”

Lie? Or go with the truth? It’s not like you knew anything anyways.

“I found her, yeah. But I know nothing about it; I don’t know who she is, and I didn’t see anyone else,” you answered.

The blonde gave you a look before asking, “We got a few more questions if you can just give us a moment—”

“I already told you all I know. I found a girl, I called 911. I got no other information for you.”

The detectives glanced at each other. “Can you come down to the station with us, please?” the blonde continued.

“I’d rather not, no,” you replied, wondering why this woman was trying so hard to get more.

“Don’t make us force you in.” Even her partner gave her a surprised look at that.

You scoffed. “For what? Giving you all the information I have?” “Uh huh; wanna show me a recipe for all this food you’re givin’ away?” she asked, a small smirk on her face.

There were still a few homeless people between you and them, so you took your chances. You turned and ran. You heard the woman detective curse before there was a scuffle, then two sets of footsteps following you. You turned this way and that, seemingly at random, but you knew these streets. You were trying to lose them in your home turf. What you didn’t know, was that this was their home turf, too.

The man, who had impossibly long legs, caught up to you fairly quickly, his partner a few steps behind.

“Leave me alone! I didn’t do anything! I don’t know anything!” you yelled, trying to push yourself to go faster. But the man overtook you, grabbing your shirt and pulling you to a stop. The three of you were panting as you tried to come up with something to save yourself. There’s a trick you learned early in your thieving career; when in doubt, flirt it out.

“We just have a few questions for ya,” the man said, letting you go. Him and the woman had you pinned against the wall anyways; you had nowhere to go.

“Look, Mr…?”

“Detective Carisi,” he replied before nodding to his partner. “Detective Rollins.”

“Look Detective Carisi, I was literally handing out food to the homeless when I found that girl. I have no other information for you.” You batted your eyes at him, giving him a soft smile, and you felt the pride at your display when you saw his cheeks turn pink. “I can’t help you anymore….”

“We still have questions for you,” Detective Rollins said harshly, stomping all over your attempt at flirting out of this. But you weren’t giving up that easily.

You continued giving Detective Carisi bedroom eyes as you said, “well, I don’t want to go to the precinct. How about you and I discuss this over a coffee? Or maybe something a little harder?”

He visibly swallowed before Rollins sighed heavily, pulled out handcuffs, and turned you against the wall.

“I’m takin’ you in. For shoplifting and for wasting our time,” she said, giving Carisi a glare. He gave her a sheepish look before they led you to their squad car. You sat grumpily in back, but you were glad that their voices were loud enough to hear through the window.

“God, Carisi, are you really that single that you’ll let a criminal sweet-talk you?” Rollins asked.

He gave her a look. “Hey, just ‘cause I don’t go to bars lookin’ to get laid doesn’t mean I’m desperate. Besides, she’s stealing food to give to the homeless; is she really a criminal?”

“It’s enough to take her in for questioning on the rape. And Carisi—you’re so totally desperate.”

 *******************

You sat in the interrogation room, no longer cuffed. You were waiting for what felt like forever for the detectives to come in. To your surprise, Detective Carisi came in, alone.

“Hey, sorry to make ya wait so long. If you’re ready, we can get started,” he said, sitting across from you.

You smiled at him. “I’m glad to be out of handcuffs. But you seem like the kind of guy that would rather see me in them.”

That cute blush reappeared on his cheeks, but he rolled with it, giving you a smirk. “Do you always try at flirt your way out of trouble?”

“Oh, I’m hardly in trouble. I’m a good girl.”

A little huff of a chuckle, a shake of the head. “Let’s get started, shall we? Where were ya at 8am on Monday?”

“Am I under arrest?” you asked, slowly rising from your seat.

“No, but you will be if ya don’t cooperate.”

You sat back down, leaning back in your chair. “Ohhh, you like to tease, don’t you, Detective sir?”

He cleared his throat. “Where were ya, 8am—”

“On Monday? Shopping.”

“Shopping? Or—”

“Yes, shopping. I do buy groceries for myself, you know.”

He gave you a long stare, like he was trying to figure you out. “Do you have any proof that you were shopping?”

“I have the charge to my card, and the recipe at home. Would you like to come over sometime, Detective? I could show you the recipe, among other things…” you grinned, and his blush deepened.

There was a knock on the one-way mirror, and Detective Carisi looked slightly annoyed, but also a little ashamed of himself. He stood and left the room, and you had to hide a smile. At least he’s cute, you thought to yourself.

 *********************

After Carisi was removed, a new detective came in—Detective Tutuola. He was no nonsense, and you quickly answered his questions, desperate to leave the precinct. True to their word, you were released afterwards, with a stern, “stop shoplifting.” Not like that would affect you.

As you were leaving, you saw Carisi sitting at his desk. He glanced up as you went over to him, and his ears turned pink. You gave him a smirk before taking one of his cards.

“Maybe I’ll give you a call one night, when I’m feeling lonely,” you mused.

The pink turned red as he looked at you. “You can give me a call any time you need me.”

You smiled brighter, and he gave you a nervous smile, his eyes darting around to see if anyone saw the exchange. You blew him a kiss before turning and leaving the precinct. But you swore you could feel his gaze on your ass as you swayed.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Getting to First Base

A/n: just a little something. i need more seungmin on my masterlist anyway and i would do anything for my babies so! (not thoroughly edited)

Requested by: @pixielix 

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​  @multi-net​

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: cheeky seungmin that's about it i think

Summary: Kim Seungmin is the star of Cheongdam High. His grades are top-notch and he is the star pitcher of the school’s baseball team. Every girl wants date him and every guy wants to be friends with him. But, little does Y/n know he only has eyes for her. All it takes is one night and one extra private practice for things to change for both of them.

Genre: romance, fluff, non-idol!au, baseball player!seungmin, softball player!reader, highschool!au, popular kid!seungmin

◈

An ominous buzz filled the lunchroom. Not the kind attached to any flying pest. This was the sound of gossip seeping from every table in the cafeteria. Despite the conformity inspired by our school uniforms, clear, distinct borders were made in the large room. 

 Near the window, were the candidates for valedictorian and their study groups. Their trays always lay untouched and books took their focus. In the right corner were the Netizens and resident fan-girls and boys alike. They were mostly harmless unless it was comeback season. Across the way in the left corner was the ‘cool’ kids. Cool meaning the guys smoked behind the schools and the girls cut their skirts to short and glared at anyone who looked their way. Towards the back were your general outcasts and weirdos. They usually kept to themselves, but if you were caught sitting with them it was the social equivalent of suicide. 

The center. The center was where everyone wanted to be. The focal point of the cafeteria was the two circular tables that housed the school’s pride and joy. The baseball and softball teams. And at the heart of it all, seemingly lit by a ray of sunshine, was Kim Seungmin. Star pitcher of Cheongdam’s baseball team. 

Seungmin sat atop the lunch table, his shaggy brown hair falling across his forehead. His tie was loose and hanging lower than it should be and the silver bracelet he always wore dangled over his tan wrist as he waved over another member of his team. 

It was no secret I liked Seungmin. Almost every girl in our school had a crush on Seungmin. Girls flocked to give him gifts before games and they waited for him before and after practice. I watched from the girls’ field as they lined up at the fence and cheered for him as he pitched inning after inning. 

My less than white sneakers squeaked over the white tiles as I carried my lunch tray to the softball table. “Y/n!” My friend Jia waved me over, a bright smile illuminating her face. At the sound of my name, Seungmin’s head popped up like a meerkat and searched the cafeteria. His eyes met mine and I gave him a smile before sliding into my seat. 

The cold metal of the cheap tables chilled the bare skin on my legs. “Did you hear about Miyoung?” Jia said twirling the aluminum chopsticks in her hand before stabbing them into a sausage. I nervously laughed at her exhibition of violence towards the innocent piece of meat. 

“No. What about her?”

“Apparently she’s failing a class. Her mom is pulling her from the team.” 

My jaw dropped, halfway full of food. Without looking she pushed it up, prompting me to finish chewing. “But we have Sectionals-” Jia nodded stabbed yet another sausage. “She’s our star pitcher-” I could hear the meat squealing in pain at her unhindered violence. I noticed some of the boys at the next table staring at her with terrified eyes. When she turned they looked away, hands hiding her next possible sausage target.

“I’m going to take these away from you.” My hands reached for her saucer but an animal like growl escaped her throat so I left her be. 

Jia sighed looking at our team around the table. “I just really wanted to win Sectionals this year.” We ate the rest of our meal in silence, waiting for the bell to ring. The hall was flooded with students. The sea of blue jackets made it hard to weave my way into Room B23. 

Class droned on for the next hour. Just as my eyes started to droop, I was hit in the back of the head by a paper projectile. The ball of notebook paper landed on the floor at my feet. My eyes fell on a familiar shaggy head of brown hair. With happy puppy eyes, he pointed towards the paper, eyeing the teacher warily. 

Why Seungmin felt the need to throw the paper at me I had no clue. He sat right beside me. The teacher seemed preoccupied with scolding a student about using their phone so I reached down and picked up the note. I smiled seeing Seungmin’s handwriting. 

Do you have practice today? 

He was asking if I had practice? Did he suddenly drop every brain cell in that big head of his? It was a known fact that the baseball and softball schedule was practically identical. Every day he had practice and every day I had mine. That’s why the school invested in a second field for the softball team.

Of course. Same as you. Why?

My hand moved across the paper, making every letter neat and in beautiful handwriting. Quitely folding the note, I slipped it between two fingers and held it down by my side, staring at the board. I desperately tried not to withdraw feeling Seungmin’s fingers brushed mine as he took the parchment.

Quietly he unfolded the paper and I listened to his pen scrawl across it more than I did read the lessons from my textbook. My hand stayed ready to receive his message but it was once again tossed onto my desk. Rolling my eyes I opened his message.

I like knowing things. 

Not bothering to write anything back I crumpled the sheet and tossed it at his head. Seungmin laughed, our teacher’s head shooting up and sending us a stern glare. 

That was such a Seungmin answer. He always loved being the smartest person in the room. Putting the weird interaction in the back of my mind, I focused back on my work and waited for the school day to be over.

◈

I stood in line with the rest of the now twelve girls of Cheongdam’s softball team. The sound of the boys’ practice was carrying over the chainlink fence onto our field. Our coach walked the line, clipboard in hand.

“I’m sure you all are aware Miyoung has dropped from the team.” Most of the girls nodded, several gasped and turned to the others looking for confirmation. “With Sectionals coming up we need an immediate replacement for our pitcher.” His eyes scanned down the line, holding a stare with every single girl. “L/n. Congratulations, you are our new pitcher.”

“But- I’m just a shortstop?”

“Not anymore.” He tossed me a mitt and called for everyone to take their positions. A heavy weight landed on my shoulders as I stood atop the pitcher’s mound. I felt all eyes on me as the first girl stepped up to the plate. 

The ball was familiar in my hands. I stared at the girl waiting to bat. With as much aim and accuracy as I could muster I threw the ball. It sailed over the plate before connecting with the wooden bat with a loud crack. 

The rest of our practice seemed to last an eternity. The coach yelled at me more than anyone else on the team. By now everyone had left. The floodlights had been shut off and I stood in the dark on the pitcher's mound. The ball felt heavy in my hand.

Staring down the makeshift target I created at home plate, I wiped the sweat off my brow. The ball flew from my hand missing the target by just an inch. Sighing, I collapsed onto the ground head in my hands. Cold sweat lay on the back of my neck, becoming freezing as the night breeze blew over it.

“Shouldn’t you have left already?”

Looking up I saw Seungmin walking towards me with a long stride. A duffle bag hung loosely over his right shoulder and he smiled at me from the gate entrance. His hair was messy and I could see the sleeve of his uniform hanging out of the bag.

“I heard you’re the new pitcher. How is that going?”

“As you can tell, not so great.” Setting down his bag Seungmin grabbed onto a basket full of softballs and dragged it over to the mound. He placed on in my hand before standing back and watching expectantly. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, scuffing his shoe in the tan dirt. “Helping you. Obviously.” Nudging my shoulder he pointed to the target. “Let me see what you’ve got.” Pitching in front of Cheongdam High’s star player. This was certainly not how I imagined this night to go.

Taking a deep breath, I aimed my stare towards the target. Seungmin watched me with an analytic gaze as the ball left my hand. The round projectile grazed the second most outer ring of the target. He shrugged as I turned back to him.

“It’s not bad. I’ve seen worse.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence.” Seungmin shrugged once more and watched me pick up another softball. “Here. Why don’t you show me how it’s done then. A smirk played at his lips as I tossed him the ball.

He listed his head, playing with the spherical object. “You do realize, pitching a baseball and pitching a softball are technically different.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes as I stepped back from the top of the mound and motioned for him to step up.  With perfect form, he let loose the ball, long fingers seeming to extend as it flew towards the target. A large thunk could be heard and all that was left was a dent smack dab in the center of the target.

“Want me to teach you?” Slowly I nodded and walked over to him. His fingers brushed mine as he handed me another ball from the basket. “Try inhaling when you prep and exhaling as you let loose the ball.” 

Following his instructions, I took a deep breath and let go as the ball flew past my fingertips. Seungmin burst out laughing when the softball bounced off of the target’s corner. “You’re supposed to be teaching, not laughing dumbass!” 

“I can’t help it,” Seungmin gasped, doubling over in laughter. “That was too cute!” My body froze involuntarily and I prayed that he assumed the blush on my cheeks was from the cold. His eyes raked over my face clearly noticing the heat flooding over my skin. “Try again?” Seungmin proposed picking up another ball. 

Knowing my only chance of a scream-free practice tomorrow was standing next to me I turned back towards the plate, the ball passing between my hand and the mitt. Hearing Seungmin’s sharp intake of breath had me turning to wait for criticism. To my surprise, I felt his hands on my waist and his chest brushed against my back. Again I froze, choosing to look anywhere but the boy behind me. 

“Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, breath fanning over the back of my neck. With a gentle touch, his hands turned my hips parallel to his. “Try angling your hips this way. IT might help-” Seungmin stopped and stared seeing my eyes dragging over his lips. Ghosting over the corner of his mouth was a smirk that would make the Chesire cat proud. “Your staring.”

“Well...you were talking.”

“Please, you were practically undressing me with your eyes.”

“When did I-”

He laughed, keeping his hands on my waist. “I’m just kidding, Y/n.” Embarrassed, I stared down at my shoes. “Though...if you did want to kiss me, you should just do it. I’m very tired of waiting.”

“You’re tired of waiting? What about me?” I asked turning around, crossing my arms. The rough leather of the mitt was tucked under my arm in an awkward way, but I ignored it. “Why do you think I always buy an extra banana milk on Fridays? I know you’re going to ask for one at study group.” 

Seungmin laughed as I lightly swatted his shoulder, dropping the softball on the field and letting it roll away from the pitcher's mound. “Why do you think I go to study group? My grades are fine.” 

“Well...I-”

Before I could come up with an answer, Seungmin leaned down and pressed his lips against mine before pulling away hands behind his back. “You what?”

“I-.....uh...well-”

Again, Seungmin leaned down and pecked my lips. “Yes?”

“Kim Seungmin would you stop for one second!”

“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?”

“Yes. Wait- no. Wait.....what?”

His eyes crinkled and he pulled me towards his chest, kissing me deeply this time. It was a kiss that made me weak in the knees. Still not entirely processing that Seungmin was in fact kissing me, my hands hung by my side. “I’m doing all the work here. Are you going to kiss back or what?” Seungmin said with a laugh. Shaking myself out of the confused trance I grabbed his cheeks and pulled him back down to my lips. 

Wrapping my arms around his neck I kissed Seungmin with every part of my being. He smiled, holding me as close as possible. Suddenly a blinding light flashed over us. “Hey! What are you kids still doing here?” The voice of one of the security guards yelled. 

Seungmin and I shared a look before dropping the mitts and running towards the gate hand in hand. Grabbing our bags, Seungmin pushed me through the gate as we ran from the school guards. “Run!” I screamed dragging him through the looming iron gates that bordered the school grounds. 

The two of us laughed as we ran down the dimly lit street. “So, can I tell people you are actually my girlfriend now? We can officially be the best team in the sports department.” Leaning up I kissed his cheek before pulling him around a corner towards my house. 

“Yes. Why would I turn down a boyfriend when he comes with free pitching lessons?” I joked making him roll his eyes and ruffle my hair.

◈

Requests are Temporarily Closed!

Masterlist

[marvelsdc22]

Experiment - Chapter 2 - Biters and Bite Wounds

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! Sorry for the delay on this, I’ve had major writers block, but it seems to be passing, I hope you guys enjoy!! :)

Note: You and the twins start heading South in hopes to find more people or at least some safety, a roadblock stops you in your tracks and one thing leads to another, will you make it through the night?

Word Count: 1494

Masterlist

Looking over Wanda’s shoulder, you listened as the twins discussed your guys next move, Wanda argued that you guys should head back North to New York while Pietro argued you headed south, you watched as they argued for a few minutes before you sighed and placed your hands on their shoulders “We need to head South, if we go North, we have a higher risk of getting caught up in the hoard, you know this” you said, looking at Wanda who opened her mouth to argue before thinking better of it “You’re right” she said, the words tasting sour on her tongue since it was very rare that she uttered those words to either of you.

After the shock wore off, you gave her a smirk “Course I am” you said cheekily, earning you a smack on the arm “Don’t let it get to your head” she said, sounding serious although her small smile gave it away that she was quite the opposite “Alright, I say we settle in for the night then head out early morning” Pietro said, it already being pitch black outside and you sighed and nodded, pushing yourself up off the floor “I’ll take first watch” you said, grabbing your bat that was resting against the wall “Y/N-” Wanda tried to argue, you having been first watch every night since the last attack “Just sleep” you said, giving her a small smile “Wake me in three hours and I’ll take over” she said, looking at you and you nodded, watching as she headed over to her sleeping bag and got comfortable before you headed over to the window.

Staring out the window for a moment, you watched as the occasional biter came into view and glancing back at the twins when Pietro blew out the candles before he settled in for the night, you taking your lighter and lighting the candle not far from you, making sure to keep it out of view of the window to not attract the attention of the biters, sitting down on the little nook attached to the window and pulling one of your legs up to your chest, resting your chin on your knee, wondering if there would ever be a time where the undead ruled the world.

The next morning, you were still staring out the window, having not moved from your spot until you felt someone touch your shoulder, causing you to jump and grip your bat “Easy, it’s me” Wanda murmured, watching as you relaxed before looking at her “You never woke me” she said, looking at you with concern with the bags under your eyes “You needed your sleep” you said, pushing yourself up and wincing as your back popped several times, rolling your shoulders before focusing on her once more “Sleeping beauty still not up?” You asked, looking over at Pietro who was sleeping on his face, spread eagle “Of course not” she chuckled, smiling at her brother before looking at you “We should get ready to go” she said, giving your arm a squeeze before she headed over to your guys stuff and you following after her.

Once you two had loaded up the car and put what you could on the back of your bike, you went back inside and grabbed the sleeping bag that Pietro was sleeping on before you pulled it out from under him, sending him sprawling “Wake up sleeping beauty, it’s time to go!” You said, laughing some as he glared at you before he rubbed his face “Whos idea was it to get up so early?” He grumbled, standing up from the ground while you rolled your eyes and lightly shoved his arm “Yours, now lets go, we’re burning daylight!” You said, knowing you guys had a long way to go if you wanted to hit North Carolina before it got too late since from where you guys were in Pennsylvania, it would take most of the day if the roads were decent to drive through.

Setting out was easy, you guys had filled up on gas before taking off, you giving them a smile as you passed them on your motorcycle, you baseball bat settled on your back while your backpack rested over the top of it, the ride being quite peaceful until you guys hit Virginia, where there was a mass pile up in the middle of the road, forcing you guys to stop so you could look at the map, the sun beating down on you guys as you spread it out over the hood of the car “We can backtrack a bit and take this road, it looked clear when we passed it” you said, your hair a mess from the wind blowing through it “Yeah, but lets see what we can get from this wreck first, if nothing else there could be gas in the tanks” Pietro said, folding up the map and handing it back to you “I’ll check the store over there” you said, gesturing to the small store over by the road “I’ll go with you” Wanda said, knowing Pietro could handle syphoning the gas.

“This place looks ransacked” you said as you guys stepped in, seeing nothing but broken bottles and dirt and some blood, a lot had went down there “Maybe they missed something” Wanda said, shrugging as she went and looked around “I’ll check the back” you said, hopping over the counter before heading into the back room, the room being in the same state as the main room, but you looked anyway, managing to find a bottle of pain pills, chocolate bars, and a box of 10mm rounds, them not being useful to you guys yet, but you never know, right as you zipped your backpack up, you heard Wanda scream and a loud crash “Wanda!” You shouted, throwing your bag quickly over your shoulder as you pulled your bat off your back.

Launching yourself over the counter, you saw Wanda being cornered by two biters “Hey uglies! Over here!” You shouted without thinking, managing to swing your bat at ones head before you shoved the other one back, throwing it back in Wanda’s direction, who stabbed it in the head with her dagger, killing it instantly while you focused on the other one, not realizing the third behind you until it grabbed you an latched onto your shoulder, causing you to cry out before Wanda stabbed it as well, causing it to release its bite and dropping to the ground “Y/N, look at me” Wanda said, panicking slightly as she kneeled down in front of you and Pietro ran inside, taking down the other biter that was slowly crawling its way toward you guys.

Pietro looked around, making sure there were no others before he looked at you two, the sight making his heart sink, Wanda was trying to calm you while you held your bleeding shoulder “Pietro, help!” Wanda cried, looking at him and watching as he hesitated for a moment before he rushed over to you two and kneeled down by your side “We have to clean this” he said, digging in his bag after he set it down beside him and grabbing a cloth and the peroxide out “This is going to hurt” he said, looking at Wanda who offered you something to bite down on as Pietro first wet the cloth with some water before he cleaned your wound.

After about ten minutes, you guys managed to stop the bleeding and Pietro wrapped your shoulder with some gauze “We need to find help” Wanda said, knowing that the wrap would only hold you for so long “I know… Lets get them in the car, we’ll find a place to stay for the night” he said, lifting you up and causing you to whimper “I’m sorry” he said repeatedly as he carried you out to the car and setting you in the passengers seat “You drive, I’ll take their bike, just follow me” he said, handing Wanda the keys to the car before he hopped onto your bike, Wanda glancing over at you worriedly as she started the car before she focused on the road and followed Pietro.

Once you guys found a decent place, Pietro carried you into the house and waited for Wanda to set up your sleeping bag before setting you down, the two of them bundling you up with whatever they could find, Pietro managing to find a trunk full of blankets and covering you with them since you were starting to shiver “I’m going to go see if I can find help, stay here with them, okay?” Pietro said, looking at Wanda who nodded before pulling him into a hug “Please stay safe” she said, giving him a squeeze before she released him, watching as he gathered some things before he headed out then she looked over at you, what was she going to do if she lost you?

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates / @natasha-danvers / @hopingforbarnes / @xxxtwilightaxelxxx / @venablemayfairgoode

Marvel Taglist: @thanossexual

Marvel Ladies Taglist: @imnotasuperhero / @procrastinatingsapphictrash

Experiment Taglist: @dreamywlws​ / @madamevirgo / @marrymemcgrath

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed!! If you’d like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me a DM or Ask!! Also, if you guys change your handles and still want to be tagged in lists, please notify me!! Have a good day/night!!

Requests Open

[neonponders]

Hawkins Wolves

I have this gif/post saved and here we go:

Fraternity Twin Harringtons

(cue Billy sweating in the background)

Bryan and Steve Harrington.

Bryan is older, has the grades (A and B averages, still great), and the name from their dad’s Scottish heritage side.

Steve is the younger twin, more athletically endeavored, and named from god only knows. He used to lie and say it was from their mom’s Greek side, just so people would stop talking about his nose. Bryan loves it and totally went with it, because hello? They have the same nose. And the same eyes and brow bones. Bryan has the narrower, V-shaped jawline while Steve’s is more square. The same hair, even if Bryan keeps his nape short and Steve’s not afraid of a mullet.

Frankly, they’re damn near identical when standing next to each other. They’re not joined at the hip, though, and are very much known as brothers instead of twins.

So Billy meets Bryan first.

Bryan is kind of an anomaly. He’s popular, and for good reasons (smart, and jaw-dropping attractive), but he tags around with Jonathan Byers. During a smoke break, Billy follows them down to a creek bed running around the school. He finds them on some boulders: Bryan is modeling up high, and Jonathan is squinting through his camera talking about lighting and, “There’s a spider web there. Watch your foot.”

Long story short: Billy likes Bryan. He doesn’t act on it, per say, but he does become a part of this portfolio pair - Jonathan practicing shutter speeds, etc., and Bryan building up a modeling portfolio.

It’s fun. It’s something to do. Billy particularly enjoys the action shots they get around the fields of Hawkins. Who knew modeling actually took work?

Then a dark red BMW parks on the side of the road behind Billy and Jonathan’s cars. The latter turns around, concerned by the sound, but Bryan reassures, “It’s my brother.”

Billy’s first thought is: Thighs.

His second is: Shoulders.

He can see immediately that the two are related but the brother is more filled out, athletically, and - “How old is he?” Billy can’t help but ask.

“About three minutes younger than me,” Bryan smiled.

The guy trots down the slope into the field to speak for himself. “Bry, if you skip breakfast again, you’re gonna be modeling for a Halloween store.”

“Not all of us have two-a-days, Vivi. I don’t need a truckload of calories.”

Vivi?

He waves a tin foil parcel in the air. Billy wondered if it’d be worth commenting on it being almost 5pm (”Golden hour!” Jonathan called it.), but he stayed quiet. “Do you know how hard it is to keep hash browns crispy? Eat your friggin’ burrito.”

“Yeah. Like you didn’t make that fresh because you ate mine during English.”

He catches the breakfast burrito when it’s thrown at him, though, and Billy is left with him while Jonathan switches cameras and film. He held his hand out and introduced himself, “Steve.”

“Ah,” Billy exhaled understanding and shook. “Billy. I’ve heard your name around.”

“My brother’s obsessed with me. It’s a twin thing.”

Said twin flipped him off in between massive bites to his burrito.

Billy corrected, “No, something about a keg record. That I beat last weekend.”

Steve took that with grace as he nodded. “Did you puke?”

Billy frowned. “No. It wouldn’t be a beaten record, then. Come to think of it, why didn’t I see you at the party?”

Bryan intercepted, “Too busy moping. He’s fresh off a break up.”

Jonathan coughed and looked like he was trying to climb into his camera bag. Billy peered between the three of them, unable to read exactly what was happening.

Steve flicked the end of his nose and leaned into a walk. Billy took that to mean he wanted a conversation alone. He didn’t expect the topic.

As they strolled by an acre of unclipped wheat, Steve hovered his hand over the fronds and said, “I’ll only say this once because I’m not his mother, but I did lose the race out of the womb. If you take advantage of my brother, I’ll put your dick in the trophy case at school next to my State trophy.”

Billy couldn’t decide which to address first: how this small-town, high school priss figured Billy out, or that he actually thought himself capable of intimidating him. Steve wore a goddamn polo underneath a sweater, for Christ sake.

Billy went with, “That’s going to make it easy for investigators to connect some dots.”

“You get my point - ”

“Yeah, I get your dull point, pretty boy. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m stuck in this shit town and it’s nice to have something to occupy myself.”

Steve stopped walking and blinked at him. “Are you modeling?”

Billy smirked. “Why? Like what you see?”

Steve’s lips pressed together a little, those large irises wandering his face before he admitted, “Nice eyes.”

And that was that.

He just left Billy in the field and strolled back to his car.

It was up to Billy to discover that Steve wasn’t the air-headed, athlete brother. Out of the two of them, Steve was the bad boy. The baby of the family with polos and clean Nikes and spare cans of mousse and hairspray for himself and his twin under the passenger seat of his car. Father-dearest’s old BMW.

And a bat with nails in his trunk.

He still couldn’t compare with the queers in mosh pits of California, but Billy discovered he kissed a whole lot better than them anyway. He cliff-dove in the frigid quarry because that’s how the swim team selects its captain. And if Billy joined him just to see those nips puckered to cut ice, only to get shoved into the water too, who is he to complain?

Steve Harrington made him pop a boner in late November waters and then took him home for a blow job in a hot shower and homemade pot pie.

Yeah, Bryan was a looker, and Steve sometimes degraded himself as second rate, but they both showed up at the Hargrove house one night. Billy hadn’t known Steve knew his stepsister, but Max let both of them through her window, and they might’ve saved Billy’s life.

Billy would never call either of the twins bad boys out loud. But as Steve drove them - Billy, Max, Bryan, even Susan - back to the house in Loch Nora, Billy thought their faces in the dim street lighting looked like wolves. Pointed, soft, and ready.

Wolves were considered bad all the time.

Bad. Beautiful. Hunters. Thieves.

Billy earned worried and confused glances around the car when he laughed. He sat up to lean into Steve’s space and purr, “Steal me away any time, baby,” and kissed a bloody print on his jaw.

“Huh?” Steve blurted.

“He has a concussion,” Bryan declared.

[katsukis-sad-angel]

Based on a True Story

Summary: there's this boy who makes you super uncomfy and doesnt take a hit, but you're to sweet to tell him to back off. Katsuki Bakugou, the more blunt end of the friendship, is happy to tell him off and free you from that sorry bastard.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Warnings: possible tw, a lot of swearing and some pretty colorful insults, there are guys that are really fucking creepy, based on the actual events of February 7th, 2021 at around 10:30 pm

A/N: this was very very rushed, I just wanted to write myself some comfort real quick and go to bed last night and I didn't have time to properly edit! I'm really proud of some of the banter lmao, please enjoy and never be afraid to punt a ballsack! I'll add tags later🙄🙄🙄

A message popped up on your screen and your once neutral expression went sour. Slamming the face of your phone onto your pillow, you groaned angrily into your bedspread, catching the attention of a certain ash blonde sitting in your comfy desk chair a few feet away. Katsuki Bakugou, one of your best friends, gave a questioning glance but refused to meet his ember gaze

“What’s your deal?” He asked, not letting his genuine curiosity as to why there was such a pained look on your face, show.

You opened your mouth but paused.

Katsuki already knew about this boy and scolded you every time he saw his name pop up in your notifications, telling you to ‘fucking block him already’ for the umpteenth time. It wasn’t like you had feelings for the guy anymore, you were just too nice and polite to cut him off completely and tell him to go fuck himself.

The ash-blonde had already volunteered to do it for you, but you always said no because you knew he’d just find another way to contact you.

“It’s that piss baby again isn’t it?” 

“Yeah…”

“Wow, did you just agree with one of my insults?”

“Suki, I’m about to take you up on your offer to tell him to go fuck himself.”

He snickered, “Now you’re talking sense. What the hell is that pansy bitching about now?”

You sigh and roll over on your back and Katsuki moves to sit on the edge of your bed.

“I cut him off for a while, I really did! It felt so good to be free of him, but then he got my number again and started bothering me a few days ago. I saw him at school yesterday and told him I wasn’t interested in dating at all and he was like whatever so I honestly thought he could keep it in his pants and we could just be friends but nooo! He calls me a simp for anime guys, I tell him to stop being a hypocrite because he used to simp for me and he was like “I still do. You’re the only one” yeah like I’m stupid enough to actually believe that!”

You paused to catch your breath, but before you could start speaking again Katsuki interjected, “Well, you are stupid…”

You socked him in the bicep and he hunched over laughing. You looked so fucking adorable when you got royally pissed at him.

“Oh go to hell.” You snapped, crossing your arms and continuing, “Anyway, this guy used to simp for my goddamn sister! Not only do I reject being a replacement for her, but if she rejected his sorry ass, that means he’s a huge piece of shit because she’s super picky.”

“I might’ve mentioned that once or twice-”

You punched him again to shut him up. “Plus he’s super creepy and gross and it always feels like he’s undressing me with his eyes and whenever he’s around I want to dive into a pool full of only chlorine and drink it. I’m just trying to coexist and just be nice to him but apparently, a female looking in his general direction means that they want dicked down by his micropenis. He’s so fucking dense too. Why can’t he see that I’m not interested, especially after I EXPLICITLY told him that?!”

By that point, you were on the verge of frustrated tears, bottom lip trembling just slightly with bottled up emotion.

Katsuki could see it.

You felt trapped in something you never signed up for and you’d do anything to get out. All of this frustration had been stored inside of you for so long and it just kept mounting and multiplying until you burst into tears.

“Goddammit, come here dumbass,” He growled, gathering you into a warm embrace, “You can’t keep all this bs inside okay?”

He let you sob into his shoulder, one calloused hand supporting the base of your neck and the other crossed firmly over your back so you’d feel safe and secure; away from the world full of horrible people and into a small one of just your best friend’s warmth and the sweet sweet scent of caramel.

“Why don’t you listen to me? You’re just too fucking nice to every shitty dickhead that sees you as an easy, fuckable target. Something really fucking bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t shape up and learn how to punt a dude’s excuse for a ballsack and tell him what you really think.”

You raised your head from the solace of his shoulder to look at him with big, reproachful doe eyes and whimpered, “I tried that!”

“Have you tried punting their fucking balls first?”

“No… that would hurt.”

“That’s the point.”

“But if I did it without reason I could get suspended or charged with aggravated assault!”

It was Katsuki’s turn to sigh.

“That’s not the point dumbass, the point is that you need to tell these bastards off when they start getting creepy. You know what? Why don’t you just fucking ignore their sorry asses in the first place!”

You sniffle and drag a hand over your cheek to dry your tears, then resume your position with your face in the crook of your best friend’s neck.

“I feel bad for them.”

“Well stop. I’m gonna call him now alright? After that, we’ll block his stupid ass on every fucking app, you hear me?”

You nod and hug him tighter as he leans forward to grab your phone and opens it with your passcode, swiftly finding his name in your contact list and pressing the call icon, then he tapped the speaker button and waited.

The call was picked up almost immediately and a voice on the other line said, “Hey cutie! I was just about to call and ask to see if you wanted to come over on-”

“She’s not here.” Katsuki cut him off with a dry snarl, “And last time I checked she wasn’t interested enough in your sorry ass for you to be calling her ‘cutie.’” 

You could almost hear his lip curl in utter disgust.

“Who the fuck are you?” The voice asked, dropping its sickeningly sweet tone to something more appropriate in light of the previous insult.

“I’m her fucking boyfriend you dickwad-” You popped up from your haven in surprise, mouth open to sputter in protest but he put a finger to your lips and smirked, “who the fuck are you?”

“No fucking way that whore has a boyfriend-”

“Ex-fucking-scuse me? Shut your mouth, you mother fucking pussy, insult her one more time and I’ll fuck you up so bad you won’t be recognizable by the time you get to the hospital.” He snapped back, “She’s crying right now because you’re too dense to realize she doesn’t want any business with some horse-faced piss baby like you. Take the hint right fucking now you useless bastard so you don’t make the mistake of coming near her again because I. Will. Kill. You. Delete this number because she’s too sweet to block you herself, but I will.”

“Fuck man, I was just tryna get laid. She’s the one who started rubbing herself all over me-”

“I said delete this number. Damn, you are a dense piece of shit aren’t you?”

“Hey, I-”

Katsuki pressed ‘end call’ and blocked his contact, moving from Instagram to Snapchat, to any social app you had, and blocked him left and right until he was satisfied.

“Feel better?” He asked softly, tossing your phone aside and peeling you off.

You carded a shaky hand through your hair and wiped your eyes, giving him a watery smile and a nod.

“Why did you tell him that we were in a relationship?” You asked, voice on the edge of a taunt.

“To make him mad.”

“I mean, it worked, but is that the only reason?” You giggled.

“The hell are you insinuating?”

“Do you… possibly by chance… have feelings for me?”

You batted your eyes at him and he retched, but the smirk was still present on his handsome features.

“What’s it to you?”

You squirm a bit, but something pops into your head so you can stall a bit longer.

“I mean, you’re not THAT ugly-”

He responded with a simple, harsh flick to the forehead to make you whine and try to whack him, but he easily intercepted your fist and pushed you on your back, caging you in nothing short of a horizontal kabedon.

It was your turn to smirk, “Yenno ‘Suki, I could very easily… oh what was your phrasing? ‘Punt your fucking balls’ in this position…”

“Just shut up and tell me what the hell you want.” Katsuki snapped.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You prod.

“You look like a pissed hamster when you’re mad.” He shot back.

“You smell like a fucking candy store after training.”

“You’re the dictionary definition of a dumbass.”

“You have a better hourglass figure than Yaomomo.”

“You're quickly becoming an extra.”

“Date me.”

“Fine.”

“Wait really?”

“It’s the only way I can kiss you, protect you, and keep you all to myself.” He shrugged, leaning in dangerously close, “You don’t fucking understand how hard it is to watch you prancing around with one failed abortion after another and watching you cry because they leave since you don’t want the one thing they’re after.”

“You’ve always been there for me ‘Suki… I guess I just took you for granted, and I’m really sorry.” You met his soft vermillion gaze with a meaningful and apologetic one and reached out to squeeze his hand.

“‘S okay. You’re mine now, right?”

You nod, smiling. 

“So it doesn’t matter how dense you are anymore.” He smirked, laying down on your bed and dragging you down with him so you were tucked comfortably under his chin.

You grabbed the remote and flicked on the tv, preparing to turn on an anime you had in mind.

“What romance garbage are you inflicting on me this time?” Your new boyfriend groaned, burying his face in your hair.

“One that’s super sappy and romantic and sad just to piss you off.” You pouted, clicking on each letter to form the desired word in the search bar.

“Have fun with that.” Katsuki snarked, beginning to move away, but you stopped him by deftly pressing your lips to his.

You slowly pulled away, blushing furiously, but happy to feel strong forearms snaking around your front and crossing over your stomach.

“I certainly will.” You respond.

[ttttaehyungie]

masked | myg x reader

masked | min yoongi x reader oneshot

☘  pairing | min yoongi x vigilante superhero!reader ☘  genre | college au, superhero au, humor, romance ☘  rating | NC-17 ☘  word count | 5.2k ☘  warnings | swear words, major violence/fight scenes, some childhood trauma, sexual humor (it’s like,,, one word but i’ll just tag it anyway) ☘  summary | Between academics in the day and crime-fighting at night, and your dumb rivalry with that one pain-in-the-ass, fellow vigilante Vulture, you simply don’t have time for dating. But, damn, is it hard when your partner for project work is as cute as he is. ☘  a/n | y’aaallllll this was so enjoyable to write :’) I hope you all have as much fun reading as I did writing this!

Submitted as part of BWC’s 1st Anniversary Contest.

A fist flies towards your face. You dodge leftwards. You grab the hooligan’s arm where it lingers in the air from the failed punch. Twist. He yelps. But you show no mercy. You hold tight to his arm and spin sharply on your feet. Using the momentum from your movement, you throw him over your shoulder. Thud.

He’s dazed. You seize the chance to kick him over onto his front. Locking his arms behind him, you pin him down with a knee as you fumble around in your backpack for the ropes to bind him.

A giddy excitement bubbles up, effervescent in your chest. Finally! After weeks of failed attempts, you’re so close to a solid capture. It’s just a pickpocket; small fry, really. But it’s a capture nonetheless.

Just as long as- you peek upwards to check- ok. It seems you’re in the clear. Vulture isn’t here. Wait-

Something rustles to your right. You jump in shock.

The thug takes advantage of the shift in your weight. He wrestles his arms free and pushes himself up, and you go tumbling off him. Before you can recover, he’s already sprinting off into the distance. No! He’s getting away!

In panicked desperation, you raise a hand and shoot out a force field. Dumb move. It only boosts him forward, aiding his escape. Ugh. Your victory slips like sand through your fingers.

Crack. A flash of blue pops into the middle of the street.

You roll your eyes. Part of you is relieved that the thief is not getting away. But for the most part? Unbridled annoyance.

You slump back on the ground to watch Vulture teleport in, capture the thief that you’d spent the last twenty minutes pursuing, and teleport out. All under two minutes.

Just as he’s been doing for the last few weeks. Damn. When will you ever catch a break?

“Rough night?”

Seems like your stifled yawn was not concealed well enough. Feeling slightly self-conscious, you shoot him a sheepish smile.

“Yeah. Busy fighting those assignments, y’know.”

He hums in understanding. “Let’s take a five minute break. I’m getting tired too.”

You nod. Yoongi stretches his arms out above his head and leans to the side to get in a good side stretch. Meanwhile, you avert your eyes. The sliver of skin that peeks out from where his shirt rides up has your cheeks growing warm.

“I’m gonna fill my bottle,” you announce, getting up from your shared table. “Do you want anything?”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

The water fountain is just outside the library, but the short walk from the discussion pod and back is enough for you to shake off the drowsy haze you were in. By the time you return to the tiny room- they really weren’t kidding when they called it a pod- the spring is back in your step.

Yoongi looks up as you step back into the room and flashes you a smile. It’s small, but disarming as hell. Your heartbeat picks up.

“Recharged and ready to fight this project?” he jibes.

Right. The project. The project that you’re paired up for, literally for no other reason than sheer convenience. You just happened to be sitting next to each other when it was announced. But it’s fine. You’re chill, Yoongi’s chill. And that’s why you knew it was ok to just turn to him and ask, “Wanna pair up?”

The project is the only reason the two of you are talking. It’s not that you didn’t have any other opportunity to. Not at all. You’re both in the same course and you live in the same dorm.

And it’s not that you dislike the guy. In fact, far from it. If you’re being totally honest, Yoongi is 100% your type. Chill, and a laidback sense of humor with his light jokes. And not to mention, real easy on the eyes. With his platinum blonde hair- his dark roots just beginning to peek through- and striking eyes, all topped off with that heartstopping smirk of his, there is only one conclusion to be drawn. Yoongi is objectively attractive.

You’ve acknowledged this the moment you set your eyes on him at your dorm orientation tour. His blonde hair was freshly bleached at that point and pulled back in a snapback, showing off the bold, black brows that complemented his sharp, feline eyes.

It was uncontrollable. He’s just the kind of attractive that exerts a magnetic pull on your gaze, drawing you in relentlessly no matter how many times you avert your eyes.

And the kind of attractive that makes you lose track of what’s happening. You realized belatedly that you’d zoned out from the tour.

“-survival tips. Make sure you collect your laundry from the dryer promptly. One, because people who hog the machines are inconsiderate assholes. Two, because the dorm cat has a habit of stealing socks and underwear. So unless you like the idea of your unmentionables as surprise gifts for your neighbors- in which case, you’re a psychopath-, please just collect your laundry on time.”

A quick glance at the group around you confirmed that you’re not the only one bewildered by Jin’s words.

“Oh!” Jin’s voice cut through the buzz of confusion. “Just one last thing. There’s a strict no dating rule between the RA and students. I know, I know. It’s hard resisting this gorgeous face. But let’s all give it our best attempt, alright?”

You remember scoffing internally at Jin’s words. There’s just one simple rule you have for yourself in college. No dating.

Between your studies in the day and crime-fighting at night, you simply don’t have the time for it.

And it’s this same rule you have to remind yourself of as you tear your eyes away from the sight of Yoongi casually running his hand through his hair as he contemplates the project.

Just one last loop and- fuck. Did the loser call for backup? You drop the ropes to throw up a force field. The aluminum bat gets flung off into the distance, careening off your invisible force field. Thank god you heard the heavy footsteps approaching. You’ve been on the receiving end of baseball bat attacks, and let’s just say you’ve come to empathize greatly with baseballs after that experience.

You swivel to face him. Block his hook. Uppercut. The thug staggers backwards, clutching his jaw.

There’s movement in your periphery. The first guy has disentangled himself from the ropes. You spot him just as he breaks into a run. Shit. He’s escaping.

A kick lands itself in your side, sending you to the ground. Snap. A cold sense of dread fills the pit of your stomach as the visual of your wrist bent at an awkward angle registers in your mind. The tingling pain blooms as you shake it out.

But you don’t have time to take care of that right now. You’ll have to rely on the adrenaline to keep you going.

You take a second to check if your mask is still in place- alright, you’re good. Turning your attention back to the asshole that attacked you, you fix him with a glare. Before this, it was just a moral obligation to stand against lawlessness. Now, it’s personal.

You recover into a squat. Swipe a kick at his feet. He lands heavily. From his crumpled position on the ground, he makes a grab for you. But you shoot out a force field. The wind’s knocked out of him with the way he’s sandwiched between your blow and the hard asphalt.

Your kick is unnecessarily hard as you roll him onto his front. But an eye for an eye, y’know.

Learning from your earlier mistakes, you tie this one up swiftly.

“Ooh, kinky,” he mutters.

Your sharp retort sits tantalizingly on the tip of your tongue. But it’s too risky to speak. It’s far easier to get recognized by your voice than one would think. You would know. Even after over a decade, the memory of that gravelly voice still haunts you.

“I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Smash! “I repeat. Where’s the safe?!”

No, you’ll never be able to forget it.

The thug beneath you grunts as you tug the knot extra tight. He deserves it anyway.

Now here’s the only part you hate about successful captures- lugging the offenders to the police station. It’s times like this you really wish you had a different superpower; superstrength, or superspeed, or, dare you say it, teleportation. You’ve considered using your force fields to lob the criminals forward, but all superpowers have their limits. It takes too much out of you to do that and you’ll be too drained to get back to the dorm by the end of it.

And so, with little care for how unglamorous it looks, you drag the thug all the way to the police station two blocks down.

It’s as you’re nearing the station, tasting the sweet relief of your task finally coming to an end, that you hear it- crack. The flash of blue pops up right before the station.

If it weren’t for the flash of blue and prominent crack sound, you wouldn’t have noticed him. Dressed head to toe in black- much like your own get-up-, Vulture manifests out of nowhere, together with a burly, scar-faced man. The other thug from earlier.

This is the closest you’ve been to Vulture. Before this, you’ve only ever seen him in the distance as he pops in to pick up your thugs and pops back out. But now, you’re close enough to pick up on the narrow gold trim that subtly lines his otherwise midnight black mask.

The thug in your hands groans at the sight of his accomplice having been caught. Vulture’s head whips towards you, finally alerted to your presence. Hurriedly, he drops ol’ scarface at the doorstep of the station and teleports out.

Damn, looks like you’ll be playing ding dong ditch by yourself again tonight.

Depositing the thug next to his accomplice, you thump on the door of the station twice and sprint back into the cover of the night.

The pain is truly setting in now. The adrenaline from earlier is all gone and there’s nothing sedating the pain. As if indignant from being ignored, the gnawing pain in your wrist comes biting back now with a vengeance.

But you’re already on campus grounds, so it’s just one more dash across the green, skirt stealthily around the building, up the tree to your second-storey dorm room, and you’ll be home free.

Your wrist throbs. At this point, you crave nothing more than to be showered and tucked into your bed in your jammies. Exhaustion from the entire ordeal laces your bones as you sneak your way back to the dorm.

Ok, it’s just round the corner now and- your heart leaps in your chest when you spot the shadow. Shit. In your impatience you’ve become complacent. You spin to identify the source and oh, thank god. It’s just the dorm cat skulking around in the quiet of the night.

Climbing the tree into your room has never been the easiest thing, but it’s made ten times harder with your wrist out of commission. But somehow, you manage it.

After a quick shower, you head to the shared kitchen to grab some ice for your wrist. You opt to leave the kitchen lights off, the shroud of darkness like a comforting blanket.

“Fancy seeing you awake.”

You jolt. Oh. Yoongi. You weren’t really banking on anyone else being awake.

“I could say the same to you,” you say, hand over your heart. “What are you doing up? It’s three am.”

He raises his water jug in reply. “What about you?”

“Lost track of time doing assignments,” you make up on the fly. “And then I tripped over my books in my sleepy state and busted my wrist.”

“Oh damn,” he says, hoisting himself off where he was leaning against the counter. “Can I take a look?”

His fingers are gentle as they turn your wrist to examine the damage. You try not to stare at how long and pretty they are. How is this even fair? How is it that even his fingers are attractive?

“It’s pretty swollen.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “Let me get you an ice pack.”

You don’t trust your voice, so you just nod, and move to sit.

He digs out someone’s bag of frozen peas and places it gently over your wrist where it lays on the table. The next fifteen minutes is spent in quiet conversation. Despite his quiet exterior, you discover that Yoongi is surprisingly easy to talk to. Of course, you’ve talked to him during your project meetings. But the content of your conversations then are largely restricted to the task at hand.

But here, in the midnight darkness, you find that the hushed words and laughter flow with such easy chemistry, and you desperately try not to fall any harder for him.

You take the peas- half-melted and dripping now- and dump it on the table. Wiping your wrist off on your shirt, you retrieve your bandage from your pocket and attempt to tie it yourself as Yoongi watches.

“Need help?” he offers.

“M’fine,” you reply distractedly.

“Really?”

Your family’s always lamented your obstinate nature, and you guess it’s not baseless.

Yoongi’s hand grasps yours. “Let me.”

Before your hand starts shaking from the nervous energy that’s growing in you, you let go of the bandage resignedly.

His expression is plain as he binds your wrist, as if this is a daily occurrence for him. Maybe it is. His movements look practiced, and the bandage is just tight enough that it restricts movement without cutting off blood circulation.

“You’re good at this,” you say. “Is there some secret side to you that you’re not revealing?”

He laughs a little. “I used to play basketball, and injuries were really common.”

You watch in fascination at the expert movements of his hands. Tucking the end of the bandage in, he pats your newly bandaged wrist lightly.

“All done.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

“Take care of yourself. I still need you alive for our project.”

Accompanying the usual morning bleariness that plagues you whenever you have just woken up, this morning it’s coupled with a dull ache in your wrist. Right. Your sprained wrist.

Shifting carefully to avoid placing any weight on your injured arm, you sit up to inspect the dressing. It’s a little mussed up, but its structural integrity is largely intact. Good, you won’t have to redo the bandaging then.

Or worse still, ask Yoongi to patch you up again.

Memories of the dimly lit kitchen come back to you, the faint glow of the corridor lights falling on the contours of his face, the high planes illuminated in an orange luminescence.

In the low light, the way his hands moved as they wrapped your wrist up wasn’t any less elegant and entrancing. The pressure that it exerted on your tender flesh was gentle, taking care not to aggravate the swollen injury.

Fuck. As if you weren’t already having a hard time holding off your feelings for him. Feelings had been bubbling up in you ever since orientation and they grew ever more persistent with each project meeting.

Why did he have to be attractive and nice? It would have been much simpler if he were just an asshole. But no, his personality just had to be as attractive as his appearance, didn’t it?

You stretch to work out the residual sleepiness, but your right rib aches in protest. Lifting your shirt and inspecting it in the mirror, a purplish bruise greets you. That sidekick really did a number on you.

Mornings like this really make you think twice about your decision to walk down the vigilante path. Mornings when the twinging pain of injuries sustained and the fatigue from having spent half the night patrolling the streets is just a little too much to bear. Mornings like this really have you wondering if you should just give it up for a normal college student’s life.

It’s truly tempting. The prospect of getting more than three hours of sleep per night is so delicious. Cuts and bruises would be a rarity. And the fluttery feeling of having a crush on a cute guy wouldn’t have to be marked as a distraction and suppressed into oblivion anymore. You want it. So much. Mornings like this, you really want to call it quits.

But your memory prevents you from doing so.

The way your mum’s hand trembled around yours as she urgently pulled you to the backroom is seared into your mind forever. Even now, your hand quivers.

Her eyes are wide with fear as she whispers, “Stay quiet.”

“The supers will be here soon, right, mum?” you ask.

“That’s right, ____.” She tucks your hair behind your ear with a shaky hand. “We just have to wait for the supers to get here.”

With that, she closes the door and the darkness envelops you. The padlock clicks just outside the door.

“Where’s the safe?” A gruff voice asks. Shivers trail down your spine.

“The cops are on their way,” you can hear your dad respond. Pride fills you at his bravery. “Look, you don’t have to do this. You can walk away right now and-”

“I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Smash! “I repeat. Where’s the safe?!”

You can hear your mum’s pleas between hiccuped sobs.

“Well if you’re not going to tell me,” the voice continues, “I’ll just have to use brute force.”

More destruction ensues. You wince with every crash, keeping a lid on the whimpers that threaten to escape you. Where are the cops?! Where are the supers?!

“A locked door. Is that an indication of something?” The voice is close now; only the door stands between you.

Bam! The door before you rattles violently. You, too, shake in fear.

“I’ll tell you where it is!” Your dad panickedly relents. “The safe. I’ll tell you where the safe is.”

“Glad you changed your mind, old man.” The footsteps retreat.

And as you emerged from the room later that night, your nine-year-old eyes taking in the wreckage and the distinct absence of help from the police or from the supers that supposedly kept your city safe, your dreams shattered just like the glass shards that laid scattered across your parents’ store.

Ever since you discovered your powers at age five, it became your ambition to become a super. With a flashy power like yours, the chances of it happening were reasonably high.

But all that changed when your parents’ store was mugged. The supers you so admired were nowhere to be found. They were simply too busy fighting other bigger fish out there. And the police? It was a known fact that they’d gotten complacent ever since the advent of the supers.

And that left smaller stores- stores like your family’s- unprotected and susceptible to attacks by ruffian gangs that reigned in the streets. No one cares for petty crime. Not when there are bigger battles to fight out there. It was a flaw in the system.

A flaw that you aim to address through your vigilantism. What use were your flashy powers and lofty ambitions when you just remained frozen in inaction when the time calls for it? The gnawing guilt morphed into a thirst for redemption. You would become the defender of the streets.

So as lonely and draining as it is to live this life of masked identities, you can’t possibly give it up. Your conscience won’t let you.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come out to the streets just days after sustaining your injury. But after icing and resting it for a day, you swear your wrist is feeling much better. Plus, you skipped your usual nightly patrols last night, but the guilt and worry had left you restlessly tossing and turning in bed. So here you are, mask on and back out on the streets.

The thug takes a swing at you. Normally you would have countered it with a block to follow quickly with a punch of your own. But with your wrist out of commission, you choose to duck down. Even your force fields would cause your wrists to absorb some impact, so the moves at your disposal are severely limited today.

You land a roundhouse kick to his side. He sputters. But he responds swiftly with a counterattack.

You’ve tried to attack mainly from your legs. Even so, your wrist feels the effects of the fight. Wrapped in its bandage, albeit sloppier than Yoongi’s expert dressing the other night but still secure enough, your sprained wrist throbs dully from the exertion.

In an attempt to soothe the ache, you roll it out- ah, the pain flares up your arm. You take deep breaths to work through the pain. You have to keep moving.

But it seems the thug has noticed your weakness. He moves quickly. Grabs your wrist and twists.

“AHHH!” The shrill scream of agony that escapes you is reflexive.

Somewhere in the midst of the white hot pain, you manage to scrape together enough sense of mind to shoot out a force field. It’s weak, and it adds yet another layer to your pain, but it’ll suffice. The thug stumbles back off-kilter.

You cradle your aggravated injury to your chest and blink back the tears. This was a bad idea. Maybe you should just give it up for tonight. It won’t be the first time a thug has gotten away, after all.

But it seems that he hasn’t had enough. He storms towards you, his face curled into a sneer.

You clench your fists. It protests in pain, but you ignore it and lower yourself into a fighting stance. You’re not sure what you can do now with the state that you’re in, but you have no choice.

Just as he picks up into a run, he’s yanked back. The immensity of the relief that washes through you as you hear that crack is so overwhelming, your legs go slightly jelly.

Vulture materializes, in his usual all-black attire, from beanie to combat boots. The gold trim of his mask glints ominously under the moonlight.

The thug takes a knee to the stomach. Vulture’s movements are so quick and sharp, the thug retches slightly. A right hook follows, without missing a beat. The thug veers to his right from its impact. But Vulture doesn’t give him an inch. He throws a left uppercut. A solid kick to the chest seamlessly completes the combo. The thug collapses in a heap on the ground.

Vulture moves like a predator on the hunt. The pace at which he stalks forward is completely unhurried. The lowlife attempts to crawl away, but he’s jerked back by the collar.

Still clutching your wrist, you watch dumbly as Vulture teleports away with the thug before you can get a word of gratitude in.

When you finally rouse from slumber the next morning, it’s from being jolted awake by the unmuffled blare of a car horn. The soundproofing in your room is shitty, but not normally this shitty. Turning to the window through which you slipped into your room last night, you realize it’s open. You were probably too tired to remember to shut it last night.

You pad over to the window, meaning to close it, when you step on something cool and smooth, but very unfamiliar. You retract your foot and look down.

Icy fear grips you. The sensation of it under your foot may have been unfamiliar, but the sight of it is definitely not. Laying on your floor is a black mask lined with gold trim.

What does this mean? Is it supposed to be a sign? Is it some sick joke? Has Vulture figured out who you are? What does he want from you?

Picking it up in your hands and skimming your thumb over the textured leather, you recall the way Vulture defended you last night. Sure, you get frustrated when he swipes your captures. But you can’t deny that, ultimately, you’re on the same side.

But having operated wordlessly all this while, and only coming in for the kill, Vulture remains an enigma. You can’t be sure of his real agenda when you’ve never fought side by side with him, let alone exchanged a word. But you can’t blame him either. You haven’t been one to break the silence either.

Perhaps you will have to now.

As it turns out, you don’t get the chance to. Break the silence, that is. For the third night in a row now, Vulture is a no show.

And for the third night in a row, the criminal gets away.

You’re tempted to blame it on your sprained wrist. But you can’t help but recall all the times thugs have slipped out of your grasp, only to be picked off by Vulture. Honestly, these last three days have you reluctantly acknowledging that your job is much harder without your silent partner.

You strain your ears in anticipation of a crack sound. But for the third night in a row, you’re left disappointed.

What’s up with all these no-shows lately?

You groan as the call gets diverted to voicemail yet again. It’s the seventh call you’ve dialled to Yoongi. Checking the time, it’s now half an hour past your agreed upon meeting time.

You slam your laptop shut. This is ridiculous. Does he think that his cute face will let him get away with everything? Just because he’s produced nothing but quality work in your pairwork so far doesn’t excuse anything.

Ok. Maybe you’re being a little harsh on him. Maybe.

But can you be blamed for being in such a crappy mood? After the shit show that was the last few nights of crime-fighting, you’re already in a foul mood. And now, hauling your sleep-deprived self out of bed and to the library at eight in the morning on a Saturday morning, only to have your partner pull a no-show? Who wouldn’t be pissed?

You shove your things into your bag and trudge back to the dorm. If you get to his room and he’s still in bed… No one can hold you responsible for what you’ll do next.

But you spot him, squatting by the shrubs that line the dorm, as you’re making your way across the green, and he’s very much awake.

You march up to him, intending to tap him on the shoulder and give him a piece of your mind.

“That damn cat,” you hear him mutter. You pause, curiosity piqued. “THIS is why dogs are man’s best friend, not cats. Holly would NEVER.”

“Looking for something?” you ask. He jumps, and turns around.

“Oh, ____,” he says, standing up from his crouched position. “Yeah, I lost something.”

“Funny, because I was looking for something too for the past-” you check your watch dramatically “- half an hour now.”

He gasps. You can pinpoint the exact moment the realization hits him. “I’m so sorry! It totally slipped my mind.”

You sigh. He’s honestly too cute. As it turns out, the answer is yes. His cute face will indeed let him get away with everything; your anger is completely diffused.

“Let’s just take a break this week,” you say.

“You don’t have to do that on my account. Just give me five minutes to grab my stuff.”

“Nah, we’ve made sufficient progress on this assignment that we’ve earned it. And you look like you’re too troubled by whatever you’ve lost anyway,” you say with a wave of your hand.

You pause, weighing your next words. But damn your soft spot for him. “Hey, do you want an extra pair of eyes to help you look?”

He considers your offer for a second. Then, hesitantly, he says, “Ok. Yeah. That’d be great actually.”

“So what are you looking for?”

He purses his lips. Did the cat really steal his underwear? Whatever he’s lost must be pretty embarrassing if it’s this hard to tell you.

Finally, he sighs and spits it out. “I know it sounds weird but I’m looking for a mask.”

You feel your jaw go slack.

“A mask?” you echo hollowly. “Like a ski mask?”

“No, um.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Y’know what, forget I said anything. I’m sure I’ll find it myself.”

He turns back to inspecting the bush. But now you have to know.

“Is it a black mask? With gold trim?”

Yoongi freezes for a second. It’s all the answer you need.

He laughs, and you can tell it’s forced. “Have you seen it?”

“No way.” It’s a mumble at first, then it all comes tumbling out of your mouth. “No way. No way! YOU’RE Vulture?!”

“Vult- What?!”

“Right. Sorry. That’s just the name I gave you because you keep swiping my thugs. And yes, I’ve seen it. Seen it every night you pop in and steal my captures.”

“Wait,” he says, his eyes growing wide as he comprehends what you’re saying. “YOU’RE that hot vigilante with the cool force fields? The one who can’t keep the thugs restrained for nuts?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“Hey. You have no grounds to complain. Not when you call me Vulture.”

“I’m so tired,” you manage to whine through a whisper. “We bagged three criminals tonight. Can’t you just teleport us back to the dorm?”

“You know we can’t do that, love,” he whispers, rubbing your back. “My powers aren’t the most stealthy. And c’mon, we’re almost there.”

Behind your own mask, you smile contentedly. The lonely nights of crime-fighting have become not so lonely after all.

As it turns out, your synergy with Yoongi is not limited to academic work. It’s been a month now and your teamwork functions like a well-oiled machine, your force fields weakening the thugs and directing them to where Yoongi waits in the shadows to teleport them off to jail where they belong.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, barely maintaining your hushed tone. The dorm cat slinks round the corner, yanking you out of your thoughts.

“That damn cat,” Yoongi mutters.

You pinch his ear, one of the few exposed parts of his body in this attire. “If not for ‘that damn cat’, we wouldn’t have gotten together. You have much to thank this cat for.”

You can’t see it but you know that he’s rolling his eyes.

“You have no defence because you know I’m right,” you taunt.

“Fine, you are,” he says and begins to lift his mask to lean in for a kiss.

You pull it back down. “Don’t get distracted now. We can cuddle later when we’re back safe, ok?”

He huffs, but there’s a spring in his step that was not there before.

And as the two of you round the corner to clamber back up to the safety of your room, the dorm cat watches with eyes aglow in the moonlight.

Your window clicks shut. It’s safe now. Jin shape-shifts out of his cat form and smirks to himself. He still remembers the mutually stolen side glances from orientation. How could he not ship your two dorky asses?

And all the sneaking around that both of you were doing every night, unaware that you both had a masked companion in each other?

But ah, it seems that you’ve finally got your shit together. All he did was nudge you in the right direction. Looks like it worked. Mission accomplished.