#best eyebrows in the league?

[phdmama]

Ned whatever happens I love you.

[lokissweater]

you noticed me ⚾︎

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: megumi fushiguro is one of the best players on the major league baseball team, and when you finally spot him on the big screen after practically dozing off at every game you went to with your girl friend? you were absolutely IN LOVE, but IN DENIAL that he could ever like you back… but he does, and bad.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, NASTY NASTY MEGUMI, oral sex, SMUT, pussy eating in locker rooms HEH, mentions of drinking but like tiny just once, reader is oblivious to the way megumi wants her, DOMINANT AF MEGUMI PHEWW, cursing, flufffff!!, barely any angst, DIRTY TALK, pet names, aged up characters.

word count: 12.1k (IK IM SORRY ITS A CUTE ONE THO)

authors note: you GUYSSSS i love megumi fushiguro i want him so bad and i LOOVEEE this fic!! i worked like a little worker bee for days and i really hope it makes you guys happy :] MWAH!!

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

megumi fushiguro was the hottest baseball player you had ever seen in your life.

and you didn’t even like baseball to begin with, dozing off at every game your girl friend dragged you to because her boyfriend was on the major league team— but the one time you decided to open your eyes and pay attention to the big giant screen in front of you?

there he was in all of his emo glory.

number eighteen.

focused, half lidded eyes resembling borderline boredom as he waited for the pitcher to throw, his forehead glistening with sweat, flushed red cheeks, and his jet black hair slightly peeking over his forehead from underneath his baseball cap.

“my god—” your hand flew and you gripped your girl friends arm tightly, your jaw to the fucking floor as your eyes were gorilla glued to the screen, her quirking a curious eyebrow at you as she matched your frantic nature.

“what? what is it? who did you see? whats happ—”

you pointed your finger up at the screen, him swinging and hitting a fucking grand slam as he proceeded to get four runs with one hit, the one thing you knew about baseball besides a home run.

“that’s a— that’s a grand slam!” you pointed frantically, probably looking absolutely insane as you stood and screamed your fucking head off.

your girl friend laughed loudly, “you like fushiguro? megumi fushiguro?”

you jumped up and down, your girlfriend astonished and laughing as this was the first time she’d ever seen you energetic at a baseball game.

“he’s friends with yuji!” she yelled over the hollering of the crowd. “we can go to their locker room after and you can say hi! i heard he’s kind of mean though—”

“no!” you spun around, eyes wide and terrified. “i already know he’ll eat me alive then! i’m a loser, i can’t talk to him i don’t have game i—”

she rolled her eyes. “you’ll be fine—”

“no i can’t!” you shook your head frantically. “please he looks like the type to love bomb me and then leave me i don’t think i can handle that—”

she snorted. “are you sure?!”

you hesitated for a moment, biting your bottom lip as your eyes trailed back over to the screen, seeing megumi breathing a little heavy from running the field, his hands on his hips as he scanned the arena.

you sighed through your nose. “yeah i’m sure!”

“suit yourself!”

a year. a year you spent continuing to tag along with your girl friend to their games, staring lovesick and sad at the big screen over megumi, and standing outside far far away from the locker room once they scored another big win and not going in like you used to, waiting for your girl friend to finish up speaking to her boyfriend as you tried your best to avoid the chance of running into megumi.

she finally emerged from the locker rooms one day, a knowing smirk on her face.

“i told yuji.”

you blinked. “told him what?”

“that you like fushiguro.”

“no!” you gasped, a hand flying and smacking over your mouth. “please no im about to experience the biggest heartbreak of my life—”

“oh relax!” she grabbed your arm and practically dragged you towards the locker room doors. “he’s not even here megumi already left, but yuji wants to talk to you.”

“why?!” you exclaimed. “to let me down easy? to tell me he’s sorry on his behalf—”

your girl friend just about threw you in and went in after you as you stumbled, eyes blown wide as the air became humid and heavy, several of the players lounging about and refreshing themselves as the sound of lockers slamming shut echoed through the space— deep, broad voices laughing filling the room as yuji spotted you, his eyes friendly and polite. “y/n!”

you relaxed and smiled, “hi! you guys played really well today!”

“megumi also played really well today.”

“oh my god—” you groaned, throwing your head back as you spun around, heading straight for the exit.

“wait wait!” he laughed loudly, jogging up to you. “sorry sorry.”

“what do you want with me..” you mumbled.

he gave you a half smile. “i wanted to tell you that megumi’s weird.”

you snorted, “elaborate please.”

yuji threw an arm around your girl friend before continuing.

“you know we support your feelings and what you want…” he began.

your eyes narrowed. “why are you guys talking to me like you’re my parents—”

“but—” yuji cut you off. “i’m just gonna be straight with you. i’ve never ever seen megumi interact with anyone, let alone another woman, besides the team.”

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen him have a proper conversation with anyone on the team besides you actually…” your girl friend muttered to yuji.

yuji winced. “yeah…” he turned back to you. “back when megumi and i first got signed, he was really popular and a lot of girls would come up to him after games for his number or just to talk to him.”

“well obviously he’s a greek god,” you grumbled. “this is hurting me man get to the point.”

he sighed. “he basically scared all of them off. didn’t give a single one a chance and was kinda mean... he would either ignore them or straight up just tell them he wasn’t interested without them even being able to get a word in.”

you stared blankly.

“i tried to tell him that he needs to be nicer but he’s just not interested.”

you kept staring.

“that’s why i’m telling you this because we don’t want you to get hurt and i feel like if you try and talk to him he’s gonna be a dick and it might…” yuji looked at you sadly. “it might be a lost cause.”

you blinked.

“y/n?”

“that’s fine!” you squeaked, hands tight at your sides. “a part of me already knew. i read about it in an article, and i’ve seen his interviews.”

your girl friend looked at you with concern filled eyes. “are you okay?”

“yeah!” you waved them off. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“because your eyes are red.”

“ppffttt!” you blew out. “i’m fine! seriously. i never intended to talk to him anyways, i’m too much of a scaredy cat.”

you extended your arms out and engulfed the both of them, squeezing tight. “thank you guys for telling me though, i appreciate it.”

“y/n…” yuji trailed off.

“i’m gonna take off though, i’ll see you guys later, okay?” you waved and opened the door. “love you!”

and you scrammed, your heart in a million pieces.

it’s not like you didn’t already know. you knew, so why were you sad? why did you feel like you just got ran over by a double decker bus? why did you pathetically feel so sad?

this was the reality. you never stood a chance.

so why were you crying?

you continued walking down the hall and towards the main exit, utterly embarrassed at your sobbing and trying your best to hide it as you navigated through several groups of people, your vision entirely blurry as you were basically drowning in your tears.

you had barely escaped the crowd when you spotted a little secluded area in the lobby, trudging over pathetically and plopping down on the coushy seat as you wiped your cheeks, staring at the wall in front of you— a huge glass casing proudly decorated with the teams trophies and awards, gigantic portraits of the players on the team adorning the walls with megumi’s serious beautiful framed face right in front of you just making you feel worse.

you already knew, but regardless of megumi’s stand off ish personality, you liked it. you had curiously browsed his interviews and quotes in articles, and you always laughed at his responses, him almost every time offending the staff without even trying or knowing, and you found it so so funny, it only making you admire him and want to get to know him even more, even if it was just a friendship.

megumi fushiguro was one of the best players on the team in history, and as you closed your eyes, silent pathetic tears still slipping down your cheeks?

he never felt so out of reach.

“here.”

your eyes opened, but you literally could not see jack shit as your tears were still blurring your line of sight, you completely and utterly mortified that a stranger caught you sobbing as you wiped your face quickly in response.

“put on my sunglasses if you don’t want people to see you crying.”

the voice was gruff and lazy, but you could not care less as you took the sunglasses and settled them over your eyes, the lenses so freaking dark that you couldn’t see a single thing— your sight worse than before.

but it relieved you, as you figured no one could see your bloodshot eyes and therefore thankfully not notice you losing your mind over something so stupid.

“thank you,” you mumbled. “sorry.”

“for what.”

you felt the plush of the bench shift next to you, figuring that the stranger man sat beside you as you refused to look in their direction out of embarrassment.

not that you could even see in the first place.

“for looking like a loser.”

the stranger man snorted. “s’fine.”

you wiped your nose with your sleeve, sniffling.

“how do you see in these?” you muttered softly. “they’re making me claustrophobic i can’t see a thing.”

“that’s the point,” he hums.

“how come?”

“i get migraines everyday. they help.”

“oh i see.” you responded softly. “have you ever run into a wall because of them?”

you hear him huff out through his nose. “i did once, when i first got them.”

you giggled gently. “did you bleed?”

“no,” he spoke calmly. “i got a bump on my forehead.”

you snickered, “what? loserrr.”

you stood up and carefully tried to walk around a little, testing out how to guide yourself through the dark lenses and trying to be careful and not bump into a wall (which was literally impossible), your hands out, feeling around.

“jesus christ i’m just kidding now i feel bad. i think im gonna bump myself into a wall too so we can call it even.”

you couldn’t see, but the stranger man’s lips twitched at your comment.

“don’t do that.” he murmured. “sit back down.”

you listened and started making your way over, feeling him reach out and wrap his fingers around your wrist carefully and guide you to the bench, you plopping down on it once you felt it.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly. “…i’m actually glad i can’t see a thing right now.” you perked up, pushing the sunglasses back up over the bridge of your nose.

“why is that.”

“so i don’t have to look at megumi fushiguro’s big portrait in front of my face.”

the stranger man stopped.

“…why?”

“because he indirectly broke my heart.”

you heard a little audible laugh, and you smiled to yourself.

at least someone is having fun right now.

“how did he indirectly break your heart?”

“my girl friend’s boyfriend is yuji itadori. she spilled the beans against my will about how i have a crush on him, and yuji told me that he’s mean and he’ll basically bite my head off and tell me to scram.”

“did he?”

“uh huh,” you nodded. “they were trying to let me down easy, but it’s not like i was gonna try and talk to him anyways. i’ve gone a year without saying anything i can go on and on and on.”

the stranger man hummed.

“he’s so cool though…” you murmured, dazed. “he’s gonna be a hard one to forget about.”

“why do you like him?”

“i feel like im being interrogated,” you giggled.

you felt the stranger man lean back against the wall. “sorry, just curious.”

you copied him and crossed your arms, “mmm… because he’s really good at what he does. i admire that most of all.”

you tilted your head. “everyone berates him for being mean but i like that he’s supposedly mean for some reason…. he’s just serious about his profession and he doesn’t want to waste time. he’s also the hottest man i’ve ever seen so that definitely helps.”

the stranger man laughed a little.

“i don’t know,” you sighed sadly. “maybe i’m just demented. i am demented.”

“if yuji itadori told you the exact opposite about him, would that have encouraged you to go up to him?”

you sat in thought for a moment, but ultimately shook your head. “no. it’s too embarrassing for me and i’m also a big fat wuss so…”

you slid your fingers underneath the lenses and rubbed your stinging sore eyes. “maybe in the next life if i’m lucky, ill be reincarnated as a cool baseball man too and i won’t have to deal with this shit.”

“cool baseball man.” he repeated, tone seemingly amused.

“yup.”

the stranger man sighed. “is this why i found you crying?”

“maayybeee?” you dragged out shyly, your cheeks flushing.

it was silent for a moment, your vision completely black but his on your rosy cheeks, oddly staring that if you could see right now, you’d probably call him a creep.

“i’m sorry i made you cry.”

you jumped back.

“no not you!” you huffed. “have you not been paying attention? catch up man—”

you felt a shadow reach up and tug the sunglasses slightly away from your face, your eyes constricting against the bright lights of the hall as they tried to adjust.

and when they did?

megumi fushiguro was sitting right next to you, a tiny smile on his face dressed in all black with his teams baseball cap on.

your eyes widened dramatically and you slapped both hands over your mouth, beyond horrified as everything you had thought you were telling a stranger about him, you were telling him directly, your brain short circuiting and your body heating up like a fucking hot flash.

“oh my god i’m so sorry!” your voice was muffled, you shaking your head in absolute denial.

you immediately sprung up and grabbed your purse, slowly backing up further and further away from him.

his smile widened.

oh my god.

megumi fushiguro was smiling, a sight you’ve never ever seen during his games, practices, interviews, articles, or magazines as your cheeks increased in shade— wanting to mentally take a picture and remember forever as you knew you’d probably never see him smile like that again.

but he was smiling.

“pretend i don’t exist!” you stammered, “pretend this never happened i’m sorry this is so embarrassing keep winning your games okay and i’ll keep being an idiot far far away from you—”

“where are you going?” he chuckled lowly.

“—you’ll never see me again i’m going home and i’m going on lockdown—”

he laughed through his nose, his lips in an amused smile.

“you don’t have to do that.”

“yes i do—”

“you don’t have to forget me either.”

“that i definitely do—”

you were halfway out of the main entrance doors.

“hold on y/n—”

megumi stood, his long legs walking over to you and you froze.

y/n?

you slowly turned around, your face pale and afraid.

“how do you know my name?” you asked softly.

“your best friend is dating yuji, is she not.”

you nodded, eyes blank.

“i’ve been seeing you inside the locker room after our games for like… two years.” megumi mumbled.

oh.

oh that’s right.

you didn’t actually notice megumi until last year, when you decided to finally open your eyes for once during a game and that’s how you spotted him for the first time on the big screen in front of you, in all of his gorgeous handsome entity.

“oh.”

he raised a hand and pressed his index finger to your forehead, nudging you softly.

“dummy.”

“s-sorry..” you gave him a wobbly bashful smile, your cheeks pinky as you rubbed your red eyes.

his eyes slightly softened and he shook his head. “s’fine.”

megumi continued to stare at you, a stone cold face that always seemed to scare off the teams entire fan base, but only made you feel numb and giddy all over every single time.

you smiled wider then, and megumi’s lips twitched.

cute.

“i’m— i’m gonna go now.”

“do you have a ride home?”

you stopped. “no i was just gonna call an uber—”

he shook his head and walked past you, his shoulder brushing gently with yours with his hands stuffed in his pockets as you turned and stared at him.

he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“you coming?”

your eyes widened. “coming? w—where?”

he rolled his eyes. “i’m taking you home.”

“no!” you shot your hands out. “it’s okay! really! thank you thank you i appreciate it but—”

he stared lazily.

“come.”

you pressed your lips into a thin line and tipped your head down, taking tiny painful steps as you followed after him to the parking lot.

megumi led you from the public parking area to a secluded section around the back of the arena, one you assumed was for players and crew members only as you nervously gnawed on your bottom lip, feeling absolutely sick.

you both continued to walk down until you arrived to a private parking garage, megumi slipping out his keys from the pocket of his hoodie as you approached a shiny black luxurious car sitting neatly in a spot.

his car was really fucking nice, and you figured so being as he was one of the most popular players and probably had more than enough money in the bank— your fingers trembling as you gripped the passenger side door, settling yourself inside his plush cool leather seats and all black interior.

megumi pressed the ‘start’ button and his engine roared to life, the motor echoing through the structure as you clumsily tried to put on your seatbelt, your cheeks growing pinker with each passing second that you just couldn’t get the stupid damn thing to— click—

he reached over across the console and took the seatbelt from you, pulling it over your body and clicking it secure without a word.

“thank you.” you said softly, eyes trained to your lap.

megumi gave you a small nod and backed out of his parking space, driving around a couple of rows before making his way out with the night air softly breezing through your hair as he drove, his dash illuminated with blue lines that ran smoothly across.

“can you put your address in—”

“oh yeah!” you jumped. “sorry—”

you reached over and tapped in your address on his big touch screen, watching the way the gps registered the location and gave him the estimated time of arrival.

forty fucking minutes.

“megumi..”

his eyes looked over at you for a second before turning back to the road.

“hm?”

“i live kinda far from here and i don’t want you to drive the opposite way from where you live.”

you leaned a little, eyebrows pinched. “i can take an uber seriously, this is too much trouble i—”

“you’re already in my car.” he deadpanned.

“i’ll jump out.”

he pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile.

“i have child lock on.”

“child lock?!” you gawked. “is this what you think of me?”

“you’re a little helpless… and you’re a crybaby.” he mumbled. “child lock stays on.”

you giggled after, your eyes shining and filled with mushy feelings for him as you nodded. “you’re probably right.”

he looked over at you then, and he smiled, softly.

“what do you do?”

you fidgeted. “h—huh?”

“do you um…” he ran his thumb over the top of his gear shift. “do you work? do you go to school?”

he’s asking you?

“i go to school!” you responded shyly but kind. “i go to a college that’s about fifteen minutes from your stadium. i usually go and meet up with my best friend after class if there’s a game.”

he hummed. “are you a big baseball person?”

you grimaced.

do you lie? do you tell the truth? do you roll down his window and attempt to jump out of the car that way?

you played with a strand of your hair. “i— i um—”

he raised an eyebrow.

“i— don’t?”

he cocked his head. “you don’t?”

you shook your head no, completely ashamed of who you are as a person as you covered your eyes.

“i knoww i suuucckkk,” you whined. “the only things i know about baseball are home runs and grand slams— which you did!”

you pointed at him excitedly. “last year! i remember you hit a grand slam! i got so excited that for once i knew what the fuck was going on and why everyone was going crazy…”

you fiddled with your fingers nervously, your eyes trained to the road. “i felt so included.”

he chuckled, and unexpectedly, reached over and gently ruffled your hair.

you then stared at him as he did so, doe eyes wide and cheeks pink.

megumi was truly just beautiful— his smooth face that didn’t have a single blemish on his skin shining under the moonlight, his black spiky hair peeking from under his cap that you had no doubt in your mind was soft and velvety.

you hated that you’d probably do anything for that man.

“i’m sorry i made you cry,” he repeated, you recognizing his words from before.

your eyebrows furrowed.

he was still thinking about that?

you shook your head furiously, “you didn’t! i swear it’s okay. i’m just crazy.”

he huffed out a laugh.

megumi thought you were odd, but in a good way. he thought everything you did was a little funny, as you were jumpy and clumsy and a crybaby and helpless, but he also took note of how polite you were. he noticed how considerate you were of him even though you were really upset, and you were kind of sweet… really sweet actually, your personality something that was totally different from the usual girls that came up to him.

well, the usual girls that used to come up to him back when he first started.

megumi pulled into your driveway and shifted the gear into park, the doors automatically unlocking.

you opened the door and stepped out before leaning down and peeking your head in.

“thank you for the ride!” you said sweetly, a cute smile on your face. “i’m sorry you had to listen to my confession against your will.”

he shook his head. “it’s alright.”

you went in to close the door.

“y/n.”

you leaned back down, “yeah?”

“are you gonna stop coming to our games?”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, your eyes darting around the interior of his car nervously.

“i— i don’t think so.”

“good.”

megumi watched you close his door and walk back a bit, him shifting his gear into reverse as the corners of his lips turned a tiny bit upwards.

“i’ll see you then.”

as you watched him pull out and drive away, his engine roaring down the street, you could not stop or simmer down the way your heart raced against your chest, so much so that you were afraid it was going to burst through your chest and literally kill you.

the next time you went to a game, you hadn’t told your close girl friend yet as she led you through the crowd and down to the v.i.p. lower level seats like always, a kind courtesy of yuji’s that he did whenever he could.

as you watched, you embarrassingly spotted megumi almost the minute you arrived, stars and hearts in your eyes as you watched him do his thing and work magic through the field with his absolutely insane batting, strong and purposeful as he barked orders or observed the opposing team for leads.

once his and the opposing team switched sides, megumi looked up as he jogged, his eyes seemingly scanning the v.i.p. front sections until he spotted you.

he raised a hand and gave you a little wave, and your eyes widened as you timidly, hesitantly, gave him one in return— your cheeks turning pink.

“who are you waving at?”

your girl friend pressed a cheek against yours and looked.

“who is- fushiguro?!”

you looked at her sheepishly.

as you recounted the story to her, her eyes bulging out of her sockets and screaming her head off every two seconds, her head snapped to the field.

“i have to tell yuji—”

“no!” you gripped her shoulders. “it’s literally nothing! he drove me home and he probably just feels bad for me.”

“megumi isn’t the type to make a crying girl feel better or drive her home.”

“it’s because he knows that we know yuji.”

“mm i don’t think so..” she scowled, crossing her arms in eventual defeat as she stared straight ahead.

that’s how it went for about a month.

you would come to their games, megumi would wave at you from the field or you would catch his attention and wave at him, and you would briefly speak to him casually just after his games, your conversations with him usually lasting no more than three minutes as he was often pulled by his coach or a crew member.

but even though the conversations were short, they were really nice, and the both of you never seemed to notice the people around you wanting his attention until he physically had to get pulled away.

but you still refused to go inside the locker room, knowing that was surely the place where you had to talk to him for longer than three minutes. you were too scared, embarrassingly so as you bid your girl friend and yuji goodbye from just outside the door before leaving every time, completely unaware of the way megumi would stare expressionless at you from inside.

when your girl friend invited you to the team’s yearly banquet, you flat out said no, decision firm and unmoving as she begged you over and over and over again.

“please please you have to go! you can’t avoid megumi forever!”

“what is the purpose of me going though?” you sighed, shaking your head with a smile at the sight of her dramatically on her knees over you. “for you it makes sense because you’re with yuji but what’s the excuse for me? i’m not anybody’s plus one.”

“yes you are,” she got back up on her feet and wiggled her eyebrows, “you’re megumi’s plus one.”

“bye i wish,” you mumbled, plopping down on your bed.

“okay you’re my plus one, or yuji’s! so he has two plus ones!”

she walked over and sat down next to you, resting her head against your shoulder as she sighed. “please come. you don’t have to talk to megumi okay? fine. but just come with me, i’ll have a better time if you do.”

you gave her a silly smile and thought for a moment, her sad tone swaying you as you finally gave in.

“only if you swear you won’t force me to talk to him.”

she nodded eagerly.

“i swear!”

so you stood there, nervous and biting your thumb as you frantically looked around, dressed in a pretty black off the shoulder mermaid style gown with a high slit exposing your leg— fiddling with your styled hair as you waited and waited and waited for your girl friend to come back from the dessert table with yuji.

you hadn’t seen megumi yet as you were trying to keep on a look out, because the moment you did see him all dressed up? you were sure you were going to start pathetically bowing for him on your knees in front of all these people and end your social life forever.

finally, she came back and handed you a little pastry, you thanking her kindly and taking a small bite.

“wait no!” she gasped, turning her pastry around. “fuck, i got the wrong one. i meant to get the vanilla one this is coconut.”

“i can get it for you this time.” you smiled kindly, her looking at you gratefully as you patted her shoulder, making your way over to the dessert table.

your eyes lit up like stars at the sight of it, grand and luxurious as any kind of pastry you could ever possibly think of was present— neat and gourmet-like, each adorned with elegant toppings as multiple huge chocolate fountain stations ran from the sides.

“hi.”

you jumped and looked to your right, megumi standing there beside you with a bored expression, clad in a polished black button up and slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

you gulped.

“h—hi.”

“i didn’t think you’d come.”

he lazily picked up a tiny slice of chocolate mousse cake and looked at it.

“i was dragged by my best friend,” you puffed out a laugh. “she said i was her and yuji’s plus one or something like that.”

he nodded, biting his cake slice and swallowing.

“you stopped coming inside the locker rooms.”

you faltered.

he noticed that?

“oh yeah! i just—” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “i’ve been really busy with school so i study right after…”

for some reason megumi eyed you carefully, and your cheeks grew pinker the more he blatantly stared at you as you fidgeted.

“are you—”

“fushiguro!”

you both turned your heads to the source, and you spotted an unfamiliar guy, one who you assumed was on the team with them, smiling enthusiastically and throwing a heavy arm around megumi’s shoulder.

“who’s this? i’ve never seen you talk to anyone besides us!”

megumi only spared him a nonchalant glance before he looked back over at the dessert table.

the unknown man extended a hand out to you, and megumi’s eyes snapped to it.

“hi! i’m takuma!”

you cheerfully took his hand. “y/n!”

“are you megumi’s girlfriend?”

you gawked, guilt and embarrassment already filling your body at the thought of megumi finding that comment uncomfortable and being uncomfortable because of you.

at his own banquet.

“n—no!” you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “i came with my best friend and yuji.”

takuma unhooked his arm and let it rest beside him. “oh nice! you know yuji as well?”

you nodded, “mhm!”

the rest of the crowd began to take their seats for the awards ceremony segment, and the three of you walked over to your designated table by yuji and your best friend, who’s eyes widened at the sight of you next to megumi.

you all sat, and takuma pointed to the empty seat next to you.

“is anyone sitting here?”

“oh no!” you smiled politely. “it’s empty you can—”

“take mine ino.”

megumi pulled out the chair next to you and plopped down on it, scooting up. “it’s closer to the front.”

huh?

“o—oh!” takuma scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “okay! thanks fushiguro.”

he only nodded in response and stuck his face in his champagne glass, sipping.

and he was right. you watched as takuma navigated through the circular tables before sitting in a seat that was right smack dab in the front.

“that’s really nice of you megumi!” you chirped. “he has such a good view now!”

“mhm.”

your best friend smacked a hand to her forehead with a shake of her head, and you looked at her quizzically.

the awards ceremony was the most fun you’ve ever had, as you were over the moon for all of the players that were awarded prestigious titles and recognitions, and even more excited for yuji and megumi, the both of them combined taking award after award that by the time the event was done, your table was filled to the brim with frames, medals, and trophies.

your doe eyes glowed over megumi’s earnings, pride and admiration bubbling in your chest as you took in the result of his hard work, feeling like he was the most talented person you ever had the privilege of knowing.

he stared at your enamored look.

“you’re so cool, gumi..” you gushed, not even noticing the little nickname you gave him.

but he did.

“cool baseball man?” he responded softly, referencing your words from when you first met.

your eyes snapped to his and you gave him the shiniest smile, nodding quickly. “yeah! cool baseball man.”

megumi looked down at his awards, and after a couple of seconds, picked up a shiny gold medal hung on a baby blue striped lanyard, holding it out for you.

“here.”

your eyes traveled down.

“what?”

“for you.” he pushed the medal forward.

shock crossed your face, and you frantically shook your head, pushing the medal back to him. “no! no megumi that’s yours you earned it—”

megumi rolled his eyes and held on to the edges of the lanyard, effortlessly setting it over your head and around your neck, the medal clinking and twinkling against your chest.

“i have four others. it’s fine.”

“no but—”

he carded his thumbs underneath your hair and gently slid your hair out from beneath the lanyard, setting it delicately over your bare shoulders.

yuji and your best friends jaws were on the floor, but you didn’t notice, too busy ogling over the fact that megumi fushiguro was the kindest person you had ever met, utterly amazed that he selflessly gave you something so precious. you.

your gaze trailed down to the medal, and you softly touched it with the pads of your fingers.

“t—thank you gumi…”

his lips twitched.

you realized then that the music had started and the crowd had already dispersed to celebrate, some dancing in the center while others mingled on the sidelines or hogged the dessert table.

and you spotted your best friend with yuji, the both of them smiling adoringly at each other, laughing and dancing— something bashfully wished for yourself as you grinned softly at them.

megumi followed your gaze, and he huffed an amused small laugh through his nose.

“they met at a party didn’t they?”

you looked to him and nodded, “uh huh! i was with her. she was so scared to talk to him and i literally had to throw her in.”

he scratched his cheek. “i remember. i was there.”

your jaw dropped. “you were?!”

he nodded. “and i remember you too.”

you sat there in silence.

how long had megumi been around in your life without you knowing? how didn’t you ever freaking notice?

before you could press any further, megumi squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his forehead in pain, groaning softly.

you jumped, “are you okay? what’s wrong?”

he shook his head. “migraine. the lights are fucking with me a little.”

“oh!” you frantically looked around the table and around him. “where are your sunglasses? the dark ones the ones you ran into a wall with!”

megumi snorted and shook his head again, eyes peeking at you a bit. “it’s fine. i left them at home.”

your eyebrows rose, “you left them?”

he nodded and dropped his hand, sitting up straight and trying to open his eyes fully to seem normal, but his lids only dropped again and his forehead fell to rest against the table.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled. “just give me a minute.”

“don’t be sorry gumi…”

you figured the rest of the night was going to be like this, and if megumi stayed, he was going to end up dealing with the dull ache in his head for hours on end and not enjoy his banquet.

but you wanted him to enjoy it. this was his night, and you didn’t want him to spend it pissed off and writhing in pain.

“do you want to leave?”

he turned his head to the side and looked at you.

“we can um—” you fiddled with the medal around your neck. “we can go outside? or we can go for ice cream…”

you tilted your head to the side cutely, and you were oblivious to the way megumi’s cheeks went a little pink at the sight.

“ill pay though!” you smiled sweetly. “it’s the least i can do for the medal you gave me.”

he gave you an endearing half smile and nodded.

your eyes lit up. “really?! okay!— wait let me just say bye to my best friend and let her know—”

you quickly stood and walked over to the dance floor, megumi watching after you before picking up his black blazer and holding it underneath an arm, wondering how the fuck he was gonna pick up all of his awards himself.

“y/n!” your best friend gushed. “you’ve been talking to megumi for hours what the fuck is going on—”

you laughed. “nothing! it was nothing but i’m gonna go get ice cream with him!”

“what?!” her and yuji said in unison.

“did he ask you?” yuji pushed.

“no!” your eyes narrowed. “of course not i’m a big fat loser why would he? i invited him because he has a migraine so—”

your best friend hummed, a smirk on her face. “oh i see... use protection.”

“huh?!” your jaw dropped. “no! that’s not—”

“y/n!”

you turned and saw takuma walk over to you, a big smile on his face. “you enjoying the banquet?”

“oh yes! it’s really great!” you smiled kindly. “the dessert table is absolutely insane.”

“right?!” takuma stepped closer to you. “they go all out every year, it’s what everyone looks forward to.”

“i can definitely see why!”

he chuckled and nodded but then turned to you, speaking quieter. “listen um… i was wondering if you were uh— well if you wanted to dance? with me? y’know… maybe get to know each other better and then—”

yuji shoved his lips to your best friends ear.

“he’s stealing megumi’s girl.”

“i know!” she whispered harshly. “what the fuck do we do—”

“i don’t know!”

“well call megumi over—”

suddenly, a tall broad figure walked in between you and takuma, your vision blocked by his back.

“sorry ino,” megumi stepped to the side a little and placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you towards the exit. “we were just leaving.”

yuji and your best friend gave each other a low high five before their eyes darted around, putting on false ignorance.

“sorry!— it was nice meeting you takuma!” you called from over your shoulder before the both of you stepped out of the venue and into the cool night air.

megumi’s car was parked right out front, him unlocking the doors with a button just like he had done the last time, you noticing how all of his awards were set neatly in the back seat.

“oh i’m sorry gumi! did you carry these over by yourself? i was gonna help you—”

you sat yourself on his passenger side seat, the leather creaking with every movement you made.

he shook his head. “i had my publicist team do it. it’s fine.”

“oh okay…” you mumbled, still feeling a little guilty that you didn’t help him.

you went to reach for your seatbelt when megumi’s arm flew in front of you and grabbed the strap, pulling it over your frame and clicking it securely before his hands wrapped back around the steering wheel, just like he had done a month prior.

you couldn’t make out his expression, as it was blank and stone-like and not a word was coming out of his mouth as he backed out from the parking space, but you smiled at him cutely nonetheless and thanked him.

the nearest ice cream shop was literally down the road from the venue, and the drive took less than three minutes before megumi pulled in and parallel parked on the side of the street.

you both stepped out and walked inside, the shop colorful and vibrant as what looked like twenty different assortments of ice cream were on display, your eyes launching across each flavor excitedly.

“i haven’t had ice cream in a fat minute…” you murmured as you pressed your hands against the glass.

“me neither.”

“which flavor do you want megumi?” you asked him sweetly, your eyes still glued to the flavors that it made him chuckle.

“um…” he stepped forward and scanned the different colors. “i’ll take whatever you get.”

you looked at him and your eyebrows softened, “are you sure? what if you don’t like it?”

the corner’s of his lips turned upward, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“it’s okay. i trust you.”

you ended up getting your all time favorite flavor that you never skip— cake batter, one that tastes different depending on who’s palette it is, and something you anxiously thought over as you gnawed on your bottom lip and stared, waiting for him to try it as you both sat on a park bench not too far from the shop.

“why do you look like you’re about to cry.” he snickered lowly.

your eyes snapped to his and you giggled. “i might if you don’t like what i picked out.” you plopped a little spoonful in your mouth, the cold ice cream melting and spreading over your tongue as you swallowed. “cake batter is a hit or miss for different people…”

he hummed, “how come?”

“it’s either too sweet or just nasty.”

“i have a sweet tooth.”

your eyes lit up, “so do i! i’m a big sweets person. i love love desserts and chocolate and ice cream… but i’m not the biggest fan of candy.”

“you’re not?”

“i love candy but not how i love sweets… and i wouldn’t randomly pick it out like at the store because i wanted to. most likely i would get a cookie.”

megumi liked how much you talked.

“have you always had a sweet tooth?” he pressed on, looking at his ice cream cup.

you nodded. “have you?”

“not really,” he shook his head. “i didn’t pick it up until i met—” he stopped. “…my dad.”

met his dad?

megumi spotted your confusion and continued.

“my actual dad disappeared. dunno where he’s at. all i’ve heard is that he had a bad gambling addiction so i’m guessing it had something to do with that.”

your eyes softened.

“gojo is kind of like my dad…” he mumbled. “he’s supported my sister and i financially ever since i was maybe five or six.”

“you have a sister?” you murmured, eyes big.

he nodded. “i do.”

he scooped a bit of cake batter ice cream up with his spoon and plopped it into his mouth, smiling softly. “gojo gave me a sweet tooth. he can’t go a day without it.”

you’d never heard megumi open up so much before, and you felt incredibly lucky and special to be the one to hear about his family and share a precious moment with him over eating ice cream, something you wanted to treat delicately and remember for as long as you lived.

“do you like it?” you asked softly, gesturing to his cup.

“i love it.”

you beamed, and he took in your cute smile for a minute as you ate some more on your end.

“i’m sorry about your actual dad… but i’m glad you and your sister got the support you needed when you were young.”

he nodded.

“did he encourage you to do baseball? or was it you?”

“he did initially.” he shook his head. “he was annoying at first, was a cheerleader at every game and was so loud.”

you giggled.

“but i grew to like it… and that’s what i wanted to do for a career. if it wasn’t for gojo’s funding i wouldn’t have been able to.”

you hummed, savoring the ice cream a bit before swallowing. “that’s really nice, gumi. i’m really happy you got the opportunity to grow your skill out like that…” you swirled the ice cream around your cup with your spoon. “what you have is a solid gift, and i would hate to see it not get the recognition it deserves when you’ve worked so hard to make it what it is now.”

you looked at him. “so i’m really, really glad that it does get it.”

megumi stared at you, face blank and a scoop of yet to be eaten ice cream on his spoon, his cheeks growing hot.

“i don’t know why you think so highly of me.” he murmured.

everyone thinks he’s rude.

your eyebrows furrowed. “i don’t think megumi, i know. you’re not a mean person, you’re honest and serious about the important things in your life. and if the medal around my neck that you gave me selflessly doesn’t tell you otherwise? i might have to kill you.”

he laughed, loud, his eyes sparkling. “you might?”

you bit your lip to refrain yourself from freaking out over his smooth laughter. “i might.”

you subconsciously rubbed your hands over your chilling arms then and megumi eyed it before he put his cup down, reaching next to him for his blazer and opening it up as he gently placed it over your shoulders.

you looked at him like he was the world then, doe eyes big and round and shimmering, and megumi felt like he could do anything with that look as long as it came from you— a permanent red tint on his cheeks that was entirely your doing.

“thank you..” you mumbled shyly, your eyes glued to your now empty cup of ice cream on the bench as you clutched the sides of his blazer, the smell of him wafting in your nose that made you absolutely weak.

megumi timidly, slowly, reached up and moved a strand of hair from your eyes then, and you looked up.

“pretty…” he murmured, dazed even.

his hand fell and landed gently on your exposed thigh from the slit of your dress, but instead of moving it, he let it stay there, his hand smoothing over your plush soft skin as he was completely entranced by your heavenly face, his body pulling his lips closer to yours as megumi’s breath quickened with absolute need the higher up his hand trailed up your yummy thigh.

you couldn’t say a word, he practically didn’t let you as his lips pressed delicately and timidly against your plush ones, his mouth moving so slowly and his tongue parting your wet lips for the purpose of devouring more of you, all while his fingertips reached and felt the side straps of your panties— the material alone making him erratic and desperate while his other hand gripped your waist tightly.

your mouths moved faster now, the sounds of wet smacking and lips separating to reconnect with more greed than before muffling your ears as he breathed heavily through his nose, his eyebrows pinched together in pent up everything as he finally had you with him after months of you avoiding him.

and then you pulled away with a wet pop.

“i—i’m sorry!” you covered your mouth. “i didn’t mean to kiss you!—”

what?

megumi’s eyebrows furrowed, both of your chests heaving as his cheeks and lips were blushed red.

he shook his head, “no i kissed you—”

“don’t cover for me gumiii,” your shoulders slumped, your brain so in denial that he could ever like you back that it tricked you into thinking you were the one kissing and all over him. “fuck i’m sorry… that was so disrespectful and— and weird of me and i—”

megumi’s hands slipped away from your body and he shook his head, his eyes dead locked on yours with his eyebrows pinched together. “y/n no you’re not understanding—”

“i’m the biggest creep on the planet man i understand if you don’t ever want to speak to me again—” you covered your face and leaned forward.

megumi stared at you astonishingly as he listened to you ramble apologies and dramatic insults for yourself continuously, his shoulders slowly relaxing and his lips turning into a soft knowing smile, your random speech starting to make absolutely no sense at all and his heart aching at the fact of how naive you were.

“y/n.”

you stopped. “what.”

he reached over and pulled your hands away from your face. “you’re helpless, you know that?”

“helpless and a creep.”

he laughed and shook his head. “stop it.”

he stood and offered his hand out for you.

“it’s getting late, i’m driving you home.”

megumi decided he would properly speak to you about it the next time he saw you… except he didn’t.

you started avoiding him like the plague again, horrendously horrified about what you believed you had done, thinking that it was better if you stayed away from him and fulfilled your initial task of forgetting him, no matter how much it hurt you.

you didn’t want megumi to ever be uncomfortable or experience what you believed he experienced with you. he didn’t deserve that. he didn’t deserve a pathetic little fan girl that never left him alone and hindered his work on the field, even though you wished so badly you could see him again, as the taste of his lips and mouth never left your fuzzy mind.

you kissed megumi fushiguro.

“oh my god y/n, you’re so stupid.”

“no i’m not! do you really believe megumi could ever like me back? no! absolutely not. i kissed him and i fucked up and that’s it. i’m staying away from him.”

your best friend ran her fingers through her hair and almost tore a chunk out in frustration. “it sounds like he kissed you! he had his hand on your thigh—”

“that was for stability! he—”

“no it was to feel you up!”

you shook your head side to side with your arms crossed. “nope nope nope nope—”

“y/nnnn!”

as for megumi, the next game he had he looked for you while on the field like he always did, looking forward to seeing your precious face and giving you a little wave… except he couldn’t find you. after the game, he went around the stadium and towards the locker room, inside and back out, the parking lot, his parking lot—

and he couldn’t find you.

this went on for a full three weeks of game after game nearly every day him doing the same exact thing— him getting increasingly more confused and a bit upset at your disappearance, going as far as to staying hours after his games still in his sweaty baseball uniform and cap with hopes that you’ll turn up.

except you never did.

and at the end of the third week, he had had enough.

“oh hey megumi!” your best friend greeted him, her hand fixing around yuji’s hair in the locker room after a game.

“hi.”

he stood there and said nothing, and your best friend eyed him skeptically. “…yes?”

megumi shifted awkwardly. “have you um… have you seen y/n?”

she sucked in a breath. “uh yeah. i saw her this morning.”

“this morning?” his eyes narrowed. “is she okay? why hasn’t she been coming to our games with you?”

“because—” she stammered. “well because—”

“is it our place to say?” yuji muttered.

“is it our place to know?” she whispered back harshly.

“i don’t know!”

“let’s just tell him!”

“but what if!—”

megumi rolled his eyes and huffed. “nevermind. please tell her to come tomorrow, i need to talk to her.”

your best friend gulped and nodded, both her and yuji watching the way he walked away and snatched his cap off, throwing it inside his locker and slamming it shut with his foot before picking up his duffel bag and leaving, not even bothering to change out of his dirt covered uniform.

“i’ve never seen him so stressed,” yuji commented.

“it’s because he likes her and she’s being an idiot…” your best friend sighed sadly.

so when she came to you the next day and told you megumi needed to speak to you, she amplified how upset he was to get you to feel bad and feel the urgent need to come to the game tonight, which you of course did.

and you were worried. so so worried and scared that he was finally going to tell you off for kissing him, to tell you that you sucked and that he never ever wanted to see you again in his life and that you were a disgusting human being—

but the roar of the crowd pulled you from your thoughts, the team winning once again as many began to pack their things and take their leave. you were completely and utterly shitting yourself, petrified and already heartbroken over the fact that megumi was officially going to cut you off as a friend when you hadn’t even had the chance to try and win him over yet.

and the way he played on the field tonight was way more aggressive than normal. he was louder, meaner, and didn’t take his eyes away from the ball or his opponents as he nearly got into a fight with another player, yuji and a few others needing to pull megumi apart and set him aside to cool off— the cameras and reporters having a field day in regards to him.

and that bothered you like nothing else. why the hell were they so excited over him getting angry? to amplify the brand that he upholds as the teams meanest player? as if they’ve never had a bad day a day in their lives? what was the point?

and it was all because of you, you realized.

you made him upset.

you covered your face with your hands and groaned, feeling like you wanted to cry.

“y/n…” your best friend patted your back. “it’ll be fine… he just needs to talk to you! you don’t even know what it’s about.”

“i can take a wild guess.”

she looked at you worriedly before picking up her things. “whenever you’re ready babe… i think he’s in the locker rooms by now.”

she left you there to gather yourself, and you sat there for a couple of more minutes before finally getting up and making your way to the locker rooms.

most of the fans had cleared out by now, and the sun was beginning to set as you passed and squeezed through crew members and news reporters, gnawing at your bottom lip as you turned a corner and spotted the locker room, many of the players already leaving.

just as you had reached your hand up to open the door, a firm voice called out to you.

“y/n.”

you froze, retracting your hand as you turned to look.

megumi stood there at the end of the hall, his baseball uniform still on and his cap dangling from his belt loop, hands in tight fists with his chest rising and falling, an agitated look on his face that you had never seen before.

“h—hi-”

“are you trying to forget me? is that what’s going on?”

your eyebrows furrowed.

“what?”

megumi took stride full steps towards you. “you finally talk to me, you confess to me, you disappear for a month, i wait for you, you finally show up at the banquet looking like the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my fucking life—”

he stopped in front of you. “takuma tries to steal you from me, i get pissed off, i fall for you at the park, i kiss you—“ he threw his arms up. “and you disappear again!”

your eyes bulge out of their sockets.

fall?

“you what?—”

“so i’m asking you again,” megumi bent his knees to look at you at eye level, his hands coming up to cup your pink cheeks and his face so close to yours you can make out the exact color of his eyes.

“are you trying to forget me? like you said you would?”

you fidgeted.

“i— i was doing it for you—”

“why for me? i never said—”

the feeling of his big hands on your cheeks was making your heart do backflips and trick shots as your wide doe eyes looked at him.

“because when i kissed you i made you uncomfortable and i don’t ever want you to be so i thought it’d be best if i left you alone—”

“okay let’s fix that right now,” his hands tightened slightly around your cheeks and he readjusted his footing, knees still bent. “i kissed you. if anything i should be the one worried if i made you uncomfortable because i put my hand on your thigh like that and for that i’m sorry.”

“no but—”

“yes y/n. i kissed you because you’re polite and you’re sweet and you’re funny, and you don’t see me as rude like everybody else does. and even though you’re naive and helpless sometimes, i like that you are. i like you.”

“but you’re megumi fushiguro…” you squeaked.

“so?”

“and i’m a loser.”

he laughed so cutely and shook his head, his pearly whites fully shining at you so big that it took you back to the first time he smiled in front of you.

“no you’re not you big dummy.”

he let go of your cheeks and placed his palms flat against the brick wall behind you, cornering you in as he let his head hang low, the top of his spiky black hair the only thing in your line of vision.

“i don’t know how else i can make you see…”

he sounded so exhausted, and your heart clenched.

“was it—” you timidly placed your hands on his shoulders. “was it actually you that kissed me?”

he nodded, head still hung.

“and do you actually like me? like— like more than a friend…”

“way fucking more,” he mumbled.

you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain yourself from screaming.

you couldn’t believe it. the megumi fushiguro, number eighteen, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen and the kindest one you’ve ever met… liked you.

“i could’ve sworn i kissed you..” you spoke softly, trailing off.

“you didn’t.” his voice was firm. “i kissed you and i put my hand up your thigh…” his forehead lifted to rest on the crook of your neck as he sighed a deep breath.

“i told— i told takuma to scram at the banquet because i got jealous that you were talking to him more than me. i saw you crying in the hall that first time we spoke and i recognized you and i went up to you because finally—”

he picked his head up slowly, eyes serious. “finally, you noticed me.”

he was so close that your nose brushed gently with his.

“you’re so dense y/n…”

megumi’s eyes flickered to your lips, “i’ve wanted you since the party.”

“the party?” you murmured.

he nodded. “the party where your friend first met yuji.”

your breath hitched as you felt his hands slide down the wall and snake over your hips, holding you tightly against him as the shock of his words made your body numb and tingly.

since the party?

it all seemed to click into place then, every single moment megumi tried to get you to look at him, to talk to him, in his own discreet way that you were completely oblivious to. and you were so fucking caught up in this fog of denial, that a person like megumi could never be interested in a person like you, that it made you push him away for the longest time without even giving yourself a chance.

you were so fucking stupid.

your arms slowly wrapped around his broad shoulders, the rough feeling of his baseball uniform underneath your fingertips and arms as you pressed your nose up against his shoulder shyly, feeling so incredibly bad for avoiding megumi for so long.

“i’m sorry…” you mumbled. “i’m sorry i was so oblivious gumi.”

you felt him shake his head from the crook of your neck silently, the vibration of his heart beating rapidly against you making you sweat and melt at the same time.

“don’t be.”

“i just—” you struggled. “i just thought you didn’t like me like i liked you and i wanted to respect your space…”

“i understand,” he muttered. “but i don’t want you to respect my space anymore.”

you held him tighter.

“and—” your voice was slightly muffled by his shoulder.

“hm?”

“i liked it when you put your hand on my thigh…”

megumi stilled, you playing the night he kissed you over and over in your head again like you’ve done since it happened— the thought making you nervous and timid.

he gripped you tighter.

“did you?”

you nodded, “mhm.”

megumi without parting from you, slipped a hand under your shirt and soothed his fingers over the bare skin of your torso, your breathing stuttering, his rough hand radiating warmth.

“what else do you like.”

you gripped the fabric of his uniform.

“i like… i like the way you kissed me. and how you touch me… like right now.”

your voice was so so soft, practically a whisper as he seemed to shiver under your words, wanting more.

“what else.”

“you,” you mumbled. “your body… your hair… your face… your hands… the way you talk to people.”

“you want me?” he murmured breathlessly.

“more than anything.”

“what else do you like?”

you leaned your head back a little and pressed your lips to his ear. “the way you play ball.”

he hummed, “you like the way i play baby?”

you nodded, your heart hammering.

he lifted his face from the crook of your neck and shamelessly pressed his lips to your cheek, murmuring.

“you wanna see what else i can do?”

“what— what else?”

megumi’s face remained pressed against your cheek as he let both of his hands now snake underneath your shirt and upwards, slowly but roughly groping the cup of your tits over your bra, feeling you up as you gasped.

“uh huh..” he pressed an open mouthed wet kiss to your pink fuzzy cheek. “‘cause i can do a lot more than just be your cool baseball man.”

he roughly spun you around and pushed you up against the wall, his hands coming back up to your breasts to grope you as he shoved and rubbed his hardened clothed dick against your perky ass, your tiny skirt riding up and revealing your pretty pink panties that made him absolutely feral.

“gumi!” you gasped. “s—someone could see—”

“i don’t fucking care.”

megumi buried his nose further into the back of your neck and your hair, him being a little pervert in the most delicious and intoxicating way possible.

he dragged his mouth up against your skin and latched on to the nape of your neck, sucking and biting sloppily against it as he marked you aggressively, no doubt in your mind that a purple bruise would follow soon after as his hands slipped under your bra now, pinching your hard nipples meanly and laughing when you jumped.

you moaned and whined against the wall, your body trembling as you felt your slick arousal slip from your hole and dampen your panties, choked up embarrassment coating your face as he shoved his fingers down your skirt without warning.

“you’re soaked baby…” he whispered. “and all because i grabbed your tits?”

“megumiii…” you whined, and you squeaked as he quickly slipped his fingers in between your pussy lips and pinched your clit.

“gumi,” he corrected. “fix it.”

“g—gumi—”

“good, pretty baby...” he praised, his dick rock fucking solid against your ass at the way his fingers slipped and slid in between your lower lips without much effort, both of your chests heaving and panting as your brains frazzled erotically.

the sounds of footsteps echoed from the end of the hall and you both immediately froze, a gasp slipping past your lips before megumi quickly covered your mouth with the same hand that was just fingering you.

“shh.” he kissed the back of your head.

if anyone were to walk in and see the sight before them— megumi with his crotch pressed up against your ass, a hand pushing your top and bra up, squeezing your bare puffy tit and the other covering your mouth?

they’d drop dead.

without another moment wasted, megumi uncovered your mouth and turned you around, his tongue darting out and licking the patch of wet on your cheek from his fingers before shoving them in his mouth, sucking up your left over juice as he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting and throwing you over his shoulder.

megumi was freaky.

your eyes widened as he walked to the double doors of the locker room and kicked it open with his foot, turning around to lock them shut before walking to a corner and setting you down gently on a bench, his palms flat beside you on the smooth wood as he towered over you.

“is— is everybody gone?”

“long gone.” he nibbled at your cheek.

“but— but what if someone wants to come in?—”

he pulled away and got down on his knees. “i’ll tell them to fuck off.”

you panted as he pressed his hands against your thighs and squeezed, spreading them apart slowly with his eyes trained to your drenched cute pink panties.

he slid his hands underneath your thighs and lifted, bending you and pressing your knees closer to you as your back hit the lockers behind you, your hands gripping the bench for dear life.

“has anyone ever seen your pussy?” he gruffed, licking his lips.

you shook your head, embarrassed. “n—no.”

“has any other man touched you the way i’ve touched you?”

“m—maybe in high school?—”

megumi sunk his teeth into your inner thigh and bit you as you yelped.

“thought you liked me.”

“i do!” you sputtered.

“clearly not if you’re being a little whore and letting other filthy men on you.”

your hole clenched.

“that— that was before you!”

he stuck his tongue out and pressed it flat against your pussy covered panties, dragging it slowly and agonizingly up until the tip of his tongue passed and flicked up against your clit, the tip moving around and around your little nub as your thighs shook.

“doesn’t matter.” he let a string of drool fall from the corner of his lips and over your ruined underwear, your eyes fluttering as you felt his warm saliva ooze in between your lips.

“and what about takuma, hm?”

you tried to open your eyes. “ta—takuma?”

“mhm. he was all over you.”

you hiccuped as he wrapped his fingers around the straps of your panties and pulled them down.

“i—”

“bet he wanted to do to you what i’m doing right now…” he hummed. “would you have let him?”

he stuffed his nose into your bare pussy and inhaled deeply, your jaw dropping as you squeezed your eyes shut.

your lack of response caused him to pull away and bite your thigh again, harder.

“would you?”

“n—no!” you shook your head quickly, strands of your hair lightly grazing your face. “i wouldn’t—”

“so who then?” he licked over his bite mark. “who would you spread your legs open for like this and let them see what a nasty fucking girl you are…”

“you gumi!” you hiccuped. “just you—”

“just me?”

megumi finally let his tongue slither itself in between your folds, slowly running over your flaps and clit as your hole continued to squelch out your arousal, pooling on the bench beneath you.

“y—yes!”

he slobbered and spit over your pussy like a starved dog, his face glistening like sugary glazed sweets.

“that’s what i fucking thought,” he hummed. “you gonna try and forget me again?”

“no!” you shook your head. “never! i can’t!”

he gripped your thighs tighter as he absolutely violated your folds then, wet sloshing and slurpings filling the air as he spat and shook his head side to side rapidly on your clit, you squealing and attempting to snap your thighs shut in response, his strong grip not letting you even if you tried.

“i—i can’t!” you cried. “gumi slow please it’s too much—”

“be a pretty baby and stop complaining.” he ran his slimy tongue over your pussy entirely before shoving it inside your hole.

you choked and clasped a trembling hand over your mouth, tears of ecstasy spilling from the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut.

you whimpered and moaned and cried so pathetically, so cutely in his ears that he grinned as he pumped his tongue in and out of you filthily.

“you’re so fucking sweet—” he slapped your cunt and you jumped. “good thing i have a sweet tooth.”

your legs shook violently as you began to see stars, your tight hole clenching and sputtering around nothing as you felt your release approaching.

“gumi—” your hand flew back to the bench and you gripped it. “m’gonna cum! i’m— i’m gonna make a mess—”

megumi’s hand shot up and wrapped around one of your thighs so the tips of his fingers met your clit, his digits proceeding to rub and flick it as you climbed and reached your high, a high pitched scream echoing through the steamy locker room as your pussy leaked your sweet cum on his tongue.

you shuddered and jumped at the way he cleaned up your release and swallowed it, running his tongue soothingly over the bite marks on your thighs before coming back up and wiping his glistening face with his sleeve.

megumi leaned in and pressed a gentle loving kiss to your lips, a complete turn around from the feral beast you had in between your legs— you kissing him back with just as much feel and affection.

he pulled back and got back up on his feet, you watching him ditzy as he jogged over to his locker and turned the lock until it clicked open, him rummaging inside for a little before he shut it and came back with a fresh pair of gray sweatpants.

“put these on baby,” he murmured.

you nodded sweetly and took them from him, you slipping off your skirt and pulling his sweatpants over as you watched him bend and look over corners.

“what are you looking for?” you asked softly.

he perked up then and stuck his hand under a bench, pulling out your wet ruined pink panties and holding them up high like a trophy.

“oh my god—” you covered your mouth in embarrassment. “give me those!”

“nope.” he shook his head and walked over to his duffel bag on the floor, unzipping it before stuffing your panties inside. “these are mine now.”

megumi came back up and wrapped his palm underneath your chin, tilting your face up softly before planting a sweet kiss to your swollen lips.

“and so are you.”

and that you were.

you went on many many dates with megumi after that, each and every single one so incredibly lovely and fun, a genuine connection you felt with him and each other that you had never ever felt before in your life, absolutely enamored by the way he gently treated you and made you feel like the only one that mattered in his life.

your best friend was obviously over the moon for you, squealing like a maniac at everything you told her, and always teased megumi about his lovesick face whenever you came to his games or appeared in the locker room to help him change, sort his clothes, or fix his hair.

“megumi…” she snickered. “your cheeks are a little red! are you like— sick?”

he scowled at her and turned the other way, wiping his sweaty forehead as he watched you bounce down the steps cutely and onto the field after one of his practices, a huge smile on your face that replicated on his.

the minute you jumped into his arms, he peppered your little cheeks with kisses as you giggled and ruffled his spiky hair, asking him how he felt about practice and other things after he set you down.

without anyone noticing, a journalist was on the field, and at the sight of megumi fushiguro’s beaming toothy smile as he watched you run to him, they quickly snapped a photo and published it.

one was a perfect portrait photo of his shining white smile (that later became his signature picture) and the other was a photo of his arms out for you as you ran, the both of them causing an absolute uproar that altered megumi’s image from that day forward.

megumi fushiguro was thought to be the meanest player on the team since the day he got signed.

but when he started taking more pictures with fans, kind of stopped offending the people around him, signed more autographs, and smiled occasionally at the paparazzi— all while your pretty self stood right next to him?

megumi fushiguro was sometimes the meanest player on the team.

————————————————————————

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

[hoe4hotchner]

the team meeting aaron's lawyer!wife who's personality is similar to his + she's the best in her field

Langston & Bell | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Lawyer wife!reader | WC: 1.2k | CW: Not really anything except for a little law jargon and mentions of a case the BAU is working on.

A/N: My brain hurts from looking up law terminology, and I'm not even sure if I used all the words correctly

The glass doors of Langston & Bell opened as Hotch led the rest of his team inside. The air felt heavy—as they entered—from the scent of freshly brewed coffee and a faint lemony aroma.

The firm itself was one of the most prestigious ones in all of Virginia, and its reputation suited it. Everything about the space was designed to impress—shining marble floors in the lobby, towering bookshelves filled with thick leather-bound volumes of law books and journals, and abstract art that screamed of a space aimed to do business with rich and pretentious people.

Emily glanced around, clearly trying to process how they’d ended up here. “Langston & Bell?” she muttered under her breath. “Isn’t this place out of our league?”

“They’re not dealing with criminal justice,” Spencer pointed out. “They specialize in corporate litigation and high-profile estate law. The firm is known for taking on cases that require absolute discretion.” Emily tried her best not to roll her eyes at Spencer's outburst of knowledge but failed.

Hotch didn’t respond, he kept his pace steady as he approached the front desk. His usual stone-faced demeanor was on full display, his features—although set not completely in a frown—were unreadable. He seemed unbothered by the hushed stares they received from the staff as they had entered with their badges held out in front of them.

The receptionist, a young woman with a straight posture and a sharp smile, greeted them. “Good afternoon. How may I assist you?”

Hotch stepped forward, his voice even. “We’re with the FBI. We’re looking for the attorney who handled the probate case for Samuel Larkin.”

The receptionist’s fingers danced quickly over her keyboard, her expression unchanged. “That would be Attorney Hotchner.”

Dead silence.

Emily blinked. “I’m sorry, did you say Hotchner?”

“Yes,” the receptionist replied, unfazed, almost on the brink of annoyance. “Would you like me to see if she’s available?”

“She,” Morgan echoed, his brows furrowing a little as his gaze flipped from the receptionist to Hotch.

Before anyone could recover from their shock, the sound of sharp heal clicks echoed through the lobby.

“Aaron,” came a clear voice from behind. “If this is your idea of surprising me, I’ll admit it’s more creative than flowers. But I have a deposition in thirty minutes.”

The team turned as one, their collective gazes landing on the woman who had just entered the room. You were dressed in a tailored navy suit that emphasized your poised demeanor. Your expression was both curious and faintly amused as your eyes locked on Hotch.

“Counselor,” he greeted smoothly, his tone carrying a subtle warmth that the team rarely heard.

“Counselor?” Rossi asked, a slow grin forming as his gaze flicked between you and Hotch.

Your lips quirked up in a small smile as you approached, your heels clicking against the marble with each step. “I assume this is your team?”

“It is,” Hotch confirmed.

You turned your attention to the group, giving them a brief once-over with an expression that wasn’t unkind but clearly measured. “Well, where are my manners? I’m Y/N Hotchner, senior litigation partner here at Langston & Bell. And yes, I can see the wheels turning in all your heads.”

Morgan crossed his arms, already grinning. “Oh, I’ve got a lot of questions right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Feel free to ask them, Agent Morgan. I’ve been cross-examined by some of the sharpest minds in the country—I’m sure I can handle you.”

JJ stepped forward, clearly trying to keep her surprise in check. “Wait, you’re married?”

You tilted your head toward Hotch, your expression softening just a fraction. “You didn’t tell them?”

“It never came up,” Hotch replied with a shrug, though the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes didn’t escape you.

You shook your head, exhaling a soft laugh. “Aaron’s great at compartmentalizing, isn’t he? Well, to officially answer your question—yes, I’m his wife. And judging by your expressions, this is news to you.”

“Big news,” Emily muttered, still processing.

Hotch cleared his throat, subtly redirecting the conversation. “We need access to the probate records for Samuel Larkin. Anything that might help us build our case.”

Your demeanor shifted instantly, professionalism overtaking the playful edge. “Aaron, you know I can’t just hand over client information without a court order.”

“We’re only asking for publicly available records,” he clarified.

You studied him for a moment, a silent exchange passing between you. Then you turned to your assistant, who stood nearby. “Jane, pull the Larkin docket and bring me all publicly filed documents. Annotate them if you have time, and leave them on my desk before your shift ends.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jane replied, already moving toward the elevator.

“You always find a way around the rules,” Hotch said, his voice was low but carrying a note of fondness.

“And you love that about me,” you shot back with a wink, your eyes glinting with mischief.

Morgan leaned closer to Emily, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. “I don’t know what’s more surprising—the fact that he’s married, the fact that she's a lawyer, or the fact that she might be scarier than him.”

Although Jane hadn't gone through the records yet, she sent you a digital copy as soon as she had found them. You walked the team through them with ease. Every legal term you used was calculated, giving away as little about your client as you could, while still helping your husband and his team. You made sure to translate every dense legal jargon into actionable insights every time you saw one of their faces pull an expression.

“Here,” you said, pointing to a transaction on the financial statement. “These wire transfers are from an offshore account linked to Larkin. It’s not evidence of criminal activity, but it raises enough red flags to warrant further investigation.” If Larkin found out you had helped the feds, you could be in big trouble, you thought as you revealed the account.

Spencer leaned in, his eyes lighting up with understanding. “If we trace the accounts, we might uncover a connection to our unsub.”

“Precisely,” you replied, offering him a small nod of approval.

By the time the team wrapped up, they had everything they needed to move forward. As they gathered their materials, you leaned against the edge of the table, folding your arms as you looked at Hotch.

“Dinner at seven?” you asked, your voice softer, the edge of professionalism giving way to something more personal.

“Seven,” he confirmed, his tone lighter than usual.

You smiled, leaning in just enough to lower your voice. “Try not to scare anyone off before then, okay?”

“No promises,” he replied, his lips twitching upward in the faintest of smiles.

As the team exited the building, Morgan shook his head in disbelief. “She is definitely scarier than Hotch”

Emily grinned. “I think I like her better.”

“I like her too,” Rossi added with a chuckle.

Hotch walked ahead, the faint smile still playing on his lips, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The team had seen enough to know he’d married his perfect match—an equal who could still challenge him enough to keep him on his toes.

[zhelin-thames]

Bruce has another kid........but this one is not adopted #2

Danny lounged on the couch in the Batcave, his feet propped up as he casually flipped through some of Bruce’s files. Damian stood nearby, arms crossed, scowling.

“It doesn’t matter,” Damian huffed. “I am Father’s heir. It is my birthright.”

Danny smirked, glancing at him over the top of the tablet. “Hate to break it to you, little bro, but I’m older. By all of three minutes, but hey, it still counts.”

“You have no proof,” Damian snapped, his voice sharp.

“Actually,” Tim interjected, walking in with a file in hand, “it’s right here. Clockwork dropped the records off yesterday. Danny’s technically the firstborn.”

Damian’s face twisted into a mix of shock and outrage. “This is preposterous! I trained for years in the League to be the heir. He—” Damian gestured at Danny, who was now grinning smugly, “—is a half-ghost nomad raised by peasants!”

“Whoa, peasants?” Danny said, holding up his hands. “I’ll have you know I was raised by two highly educated ghost hunters who built portals to alternate dimensions in their basement. So technically, I was raised by nerds.”

Jason, leaning against the wall, barked out a laugh. “This just keeps getting better.”

Things escalated when Danielle made her debut in Gotham. She’d been causing a bit of chaos in Amity Park, and Danny figured bringing her to the Manor might help her channel her energy.

When Dani strutted into the Batcave, grinning like a gremlin with her wild energy, the reactions were... mixed.

“She’s my clone,” Danny explained, his tone casual. “But I kinda see her more like a daughter.”

“Daughter?” Damian repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “You... have a daughter?”

Dani, ever the instigator, threw her arms around Danny’s waist. “Yup! My Dad’s the best!” she chirped, shooting a cheeky grin at Damian. “He’s way cooler than you, by the way.”

Damian bristled, his hands curling into fists. “You’re barely older than me, yet you have already claimed an heir?” His voice trembled with a mix of indignation and something close to panic.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “She’s not an ‘heir.’ She’s just... Dani. And technically, she’s my clone, not my biological kid. It’s complicated.”

But Damian was already lost in his own spiraling thoughts.

Late that night, Damian approached Jason. “Todd,” he said, his tone serious. “I require your assistance.”

Jason blinked. “Uh, with what?”

“I must find a suitable candidate to bear my child.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I am not,” Damian replied, his expression unyielding. “If Daniel has already produced a successor, then I must act swiftly to secure my own lineage.”

Jason clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Oh, man, this is rich. Demon Spawn wants to have a baby just to one-up his ghost brother.”

“It is not a matter of one-upmanship,” Damian insisted, though the faint pink tinge in his cheeks said otherwise.

The next morning, Danny caught wind of Damian’s... ambition. He found his younger twin in the training room, furiously sparring with a practice dummy.

“Hey, Dames,” Danny said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Do not call me that,” Damian growled, landing a particularly vicious strike on the dummy.

Danny held up his hands. “Okay, okay. But I heard a little rumor. Something about you wanting to, uh, find a lady to have a kid with?”

Damian froze mid-strike, then turned to glare at Danny. “Who told you that?”

Danny smirked. “Doesn’t matter. Look, man, you don’t need to go all ‘League heir’ about this. Dani’s not my biological kid. She’s a clone. Like, literally made from my DNA. I didn’t exactly sign up for the whole ‘parent’ thing—it just kinda happened.”

Damian’s glare softened slightly, though his posture remained stiff. “And yet, you claim her as your own.”

“Yeah, because she’s family,” Danny said simply. “She needed someone, so I stepped up. That’s what family does.”

Damian lowered his gaze, his fists unclenching. “I see.”

A few weeks later, Talia’s clone assassins made their move. But instead of eliminating them, Damian captured and brought them to the Manor.

“Father,” he declared, standing proudly before Bruce, “I have decided to take responsibility for these clones. They are my family, and I will train them to uphold the legacy of the League.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damian—”

“Not bad, kid,” Jason said, clapping him on the back. “But you might want to workshop the pitch. Sounds a little murder-y.”

Tim groaned. “Great. Now we have more mini-Damians running around.”

Danny, watching from the sidelines with Dani by his side, couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess I’m rubbing off on him.”

“You think he’s doing this to one-up you?” Dani asked.

“Absolutely,” Danny replied, grinning. “And I love it.”

While the Bat-family adjusted to the sudden influx of clones, Danny and Damian’s relationship began to shift. Though their rivalry remained, it was tempered by a growing mutual respect.

“I still do not approve of your cavalier attitude,” Damian said one night as they patrolled Gotham together.

“And I still think you need to loosen up,” Danny shot back.

Damian huffed but didn’t argue. Deep down, he was starting to appreciate having an older brother who wasn’t afraid to challenge him—or support him.

And for Danny, seeing his once-distant twin slowly open up was worth all the sibling squabbles in the world.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Out of my league || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: Fans have always speculated that Drew was dating someone until he confirmed it in an interview. After digging through Drew's socials, fans stumble upon you, a Yale law student.

Warnings: age gap (r is 23)

Word count: 515

A/n: my absolute dream to study law at Yale, Oxford or Edinburgh 😔😔

MASTERLIST

"Omg!" Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the message from your sister, her excitement practically radiating through the screen. Without hesitation, you tap on the link she attached. It directs you to a fresh, two-minute interview of your boyfriend, Drew, from the red carpet premiere of Queer. The video had been posted mere minutes ago, and your curiosity piqued as you hit play.

The clip begins with Drew stepping confidently into the spotlight, his tailored black suit fitting him perfectly, exuding effortless charm. His neatly styled hair and sharp features gleamed under the intense glow of the camera flashes. Seeing him like this—a star in every sense of the word—made you pause, a proud smile spreading across your lips.

The interviewer, a charismatic host with a warm smile and infectious energy, introduces Drew before diving straight into the conversation. Her tone is laced with both admiration and curiosity. “Drew, you’ve been receiving such incredible praise for your performance in Queer. Tell us, how was the filming process? What was it like working on such a powerful project?”

Drew’s face lights up, his passion evident as he responds. “Oh, it was an amazing experience,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice carrying a sincerity that draws you in. “Getting the chance to work under Luca’s direction and alongside Daniel was an absolute honour. The cast and crew brought so much energy to the set—it really felt like a family by the end of it.”

He pauses briefly, a soft smile gracing his lips, before adding something that makes your breath catch. “What made it even more special was having my family visit during filming. And my girlfriend…” His eyes momentarily shift, a small but noticeable fondness in his expression. “She took some time off from university to spend a couple of months with me on set in Italy. That support meant the world to me.”

Your heart swells with warmth, a mix of pride and affection bubbling to the surface. Drew rarely spoke about his personal life publicly, but when he did, it was always with the kind of sincerity that made you feel like the luckiest person alive. Those two months in Italy had been unforgettable, the perfect escape from the stress of your law studies at Yale.

The interviewer lets out an audible gasp, clearly surprised by Drew’s candid revelation. “Wait, you have a girlfriend? This is definitely news to us.” Drew chuckles softly, nodding. “I do. She’s brilliant. Balancing law school while putting up with me can’t be easy and honestly, I think she's out of my league.” Drew chuckles. Who is this mystery woman? How could someone possibly be out of Drew’s league?

The mystery only fuels the frenzy, and it doesn’t take long for determined fans to track down your Instagram account. Your page, once a space where you documented your life, was now flooded with notifications. Followers pour in by the thousands, combing through your posts for any clue about your connection to Drew. Fans are both shocked and delighted. You’re not what they expected, but in the best way.

y/n_y/l/n just posted a story!

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by drewstarkey and 2,937 others

this months dump!

view all comments

yourfriendsusername: 😍😍

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ily!!

yourfriendsusername: uh oh, ur getting famous…. remember me pls!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: sorry, who are you 😂

user1: omg so this is Drew’s gf? SHES GORGEOUS

user2: damn she’s hella smart huh?

↘️ user3: DUH SHES IN YALE STUDYING LAW

user4: eh she’s mid

↘️ user5: studying law at one of the ivy league’s is far from being mid lol 😭

user6: she’s been posting him for so long now, how have we only just found this out 😂

user7: so she’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s bagged Drew Starkey? Damn girl.

user8: now how has she done that

~

drewstarkey

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, madelyncline, jonathandavissofficial and 9,208,102 others

yeah my gf is cooler than me.

view all comments

y/n_y/l/n: Alexa, play Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey 😄

↘️ drewstarkey: volume up, Alexa!

madelyncline: she’s such a smart cookie 😝

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: come see me again gf 😔

↘️ madelyncline: yes ma’am!

jonathandavissofficial: ya’ll cute

↘️ drewstarkey: ur cute

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: what’s going on here?

user1: HE FINALLY POSTED HER!

user2: can’t wait for more gf appreciation posts 😆

user3: how has a uni student bagged Drew Starkey

user4: first pic. sleeping on the road tn.

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: pls don’t ��

↘️ user5: AHH SHE REPLIED TO U

↘️ user6: ur so lucky to call Drew ur man

↘️user7: nah, he’s acc my man

user8: as if we acc thought this majestic man was single 😭

[luvly-writer]

You should be (afraid)

Batfamily x Neglected! Reader

Author's note: This IS the last chapter, damn....Thank God, the next one shot is one I am excited for but babes that gonna have to wat till tomorrow. Imagine Y/n's clothes like this and this but instead of red, it is green. ( yes im an ATLA fan and yes it its inspired by Azula)

Warnings: Language?

Part 1 // Part 2

---

You double-checked your hair as you looked in the mirror. The day had come when you would only be known as Y/n Al Ghul, heir to the Demon Head and future Leader of the League of Assassins. It was difficult to grasp if you were quite honest. Per your request, the League had changed headquarters. Nanda Parbat was no longer safe so you had advised of getting one of the old abandoned cities of the League and turning the temple into headquarters with the rest of the city becoming a safe place for all of the servants and assassins. It was surrounded by water and walls with constant surveillance, meaning that no one could get in or out without people knowing. You were never going to forget the day that you came back, the surprise on your grandfather's face as you got to your knees and pledged allegiance to the League. He wasn't convinced at first but came around as you solidified your loyalty. You were no longer a Wayne like Damian. You were an Al Ghul

// "Leave us." Ras's voice carried out across the room. Your mother looked at you and gave you a reassuring nod before she left. As the room emptied, you were starting to feel nervous. Was this the right decision or were you too impulsive? "Explain to me, once again, child. Why are you here?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. You summon all of the courage you had in your body and stand up. "I came to reclaim my birthright as the rightful heir to the Demon Head," I said, trying my best to keep my voice steady. "Is that so? Why the change of heart?" I hesitated to answer and he saw right through me. His knowing smirk gave it away. "Tired of being part of the birds and the Bats it seems. It is very curious how only one came back. You and your brother were inseparable. Should I expect a visit from him as well? To rescue his sis-" "No." I interrupted him and he seemed taken back "No?" "I was never part of their…team. My brother formed great loyalty and attachment to them, but I did not. They…" "Go on" "They rejected me the day I arrived, yet accepted my brother. I have been forgotten, ignored, and cast aside from the moment that I became present in that household. I only hold care for one of them and even he wasn't enough to make me stay." Ras stayed quiet for a moment. "So what my daughter has been telling me is correct after all. It wasn't just that she missed you. Well, then. Let me make you a proposition. You have three months to make me believe you are capable of being my heir. If you succeed, you will begin training solely for the purpose of being my successor. Were you to not prove yourself, you would leave at once. Have I made myself clear, child?" Ras never was one for empty threats and promises, so all she could do was nod. "You are dismissed. Tell your mother to meet me here. We have a few things to discuss" he dismissed you, "Oh and child?" You looked towards him hopefully. "It is good one of you came back to your senses. Don't disappoint me" And thus began the most excruciating three months of your life. //

You were surprised at how well you had adjusted to the League after coming back. Sure, those three months were harsh, but they weren't bad. You were thankful that you picked up a demanding sport such as ice skating. You weren't sure how you'd survive otherwise. Your mother would spar with you any time she visited so your skills weren't too rusty. After sharpening what had been there once again, which had taken you a month and a half, you were able to take assassins from the highest of ranks. Once your grandfather was satisfied, thus began your preparation for a leader. You were a natural. Your role was to follow your grandfather, grant him counsel, and even take part in some of the decision-making processes. Once, your grandfather had even gotten close to saying he was proud. Even went to say (in between the lines of course) that you had been able to surpass your brother in preparation. Since then, you understood that you no longer lived in Damian's shadow. A year had passed soon and your grandfather had announced that we would have a special coronation where you would be proclaimed as Heir.

That brought us here, to your coronation day. Your armor was specifically made to tailor you and your comfort for battle. Your hair, which had gotten quite long, was pulled into an intricate braid so that your face would be visible. You felt strong and that brought a smile to your face.

"You look radiant, my dear" you hear your mother say from behind you. "Thank you, Mother" You responded as she stood in front of you and caressed your face tenderly.

"Ma'am, you have some visitors" A voice was heard from outside the door. One of your assistants went to open the door and lo and behold…your family was there.

They entered slowly, one by one. Each suited up. "Beloved, those are not ceremonial robes" your mother reprimanded Damian, but he wasn't focused on her. He was focused on you.

"So, it is true then, sister," Damian asked feeling the air leave his chest. You were there, but it wasn't you. It couldn't be you. You were soft, kind, gentle, and tame, and you never raised your voice, you were you and this wasn't you. You looked stronger that's for sure. He wouldn't be surprised if their grandfather was injecting something into you. You looked like a member, no, scratch that, you looked like the heir. From the way you stood, with a sight upward til in your head, to the way you dressed. There was a sharpness in your eyes that told him that Ras had not been soft in your teachings.

"What is, Robin," you asked steadily. Gone was the girl who cried over her lost brother. Damian wouldn't admit it but he was hurt. Hearing you call him by his alias so coldly stung in ways he couldn't imagine.

"You truly are becoming the next Head of the Demon, Y/n?" This time the question came from Dick. The last months have been hell for all of them after the shock of your departure. It was as if someone had splashed all of them with a bucket of cold water and brought them back to reality. They had all visited your room at least once, would continually watch your ice skating videos, and would look at footage of you in the manor from the last years. They had desperately searched for a semblance of you in the entirety of the manor.

"Yes. What's it to you, Nightwing?" She responded once again coldly.

"Alfred misses you," It was Jason who spoke up this time. It was jarring to see the girl he once treated as his precious princess following the footsteps of someone so wretched.

"At least someone does. I couldn't visit because of my training. Once the ceremony is finalized, I will have more time and I will visit him" "So you will visit us at the manor-" "I will visit Alfred only. I have no other reason to do so," She interrupted Tim, with a heated gaze.

"What about your dreams of becoming a professional, (nickname)? It was all you ever wanted, you worked so hard for that. We all know, we all saw. This is not wh-"

"What do you know of me, Damian? What do any of you know about me?! We both arrived at the same. Time. And it appeared as if only you were there! Everyone favored you over me and why? Because you were fucking Robin and I wasn't? I tried to reach out. I invited you everywhere, I searched for you all everywhere, I asked and asked and the only thing that I ever received in return was disdain and silence. I only wanted to be loved, LOVED DAMIAN! What you got and I didn't! And if I tried to speak out, I was hushed because I had to be understanding of your processes. I WAS A CHILD HONED AS A WEAPON TOO. I went through everything you did too! And did any of you ever recognize that? NO! You stopped knowing me the moment you forgot you had a twin. You stopped knowing me when I came back and all of you were celebrating OUR birthday as if it was only you. You lost me the moment that you preferred seeing Jon over watching me compete at Nationals. You lost me when you left to see the Titans and I had to find out weeks later. You lost me when you decided that the love they gave you was yours alone and that I didn't deserve a fraction of it." She ranted and with her every word, Damian took a step back.

"You were always out training or with your friends-"

"Don't try to pin this on me, Damian Wayne. You all pushed me away." Y/n scoffed. "I invited you here because you are my mother's son. Not because I wanted you here. They were invited cordially because they are your family. Don't mistake my act of respect as an act of love."

"There are other ways, Y/n" Batman tried to intervene. Even if it didn't show, Bruce was hurting. He was deeply ashamed and disappointed at how things had turned out.

A bell sounded, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. Y/n straightened her back and turned towards her mother, a small smile present in her face. That smile, as much as it softened everyone's hearts, hardened the moment she turned to them,

"Batman, Red Hood, Nightwing, Red Robin, I will only say this once. I lack the care and mercy my grandfather and mother seem to have for you, with the small exception of Alfred and my brother. I will take this mantle. I will become the Heir to the Demon Head and I will be the next Leader of the League of Assassins. Those are facts that you will have to deal with. If you are here to cause a commotion, then I suggest you leave. I will not tell my assassins to hold back on their ways. If you'd like to stay, so be it. Enjoy the festivity. Have it very clear. I want all of you out. Of. My. Way. once I am the head. This is my birthright and I want it to have nothing with all of you." She started looking at Batman dead in the eye. "Nothing."

"My lady, everyone is expecting you" Came a voice from outside.

"Well, then. Let's go dear. You wouldn't want to have your grandfather waiting would you? Destiny awaits" said Talia as she ushered Y/n out of the room. She never spared a glance at the five men standing in front of her.

That day, they all watched from the sidelines as their sister was proclaimed Heir. Damian had failed and he was going to make sure he NEVER failed again. He was going to do everything in his power to fix the bridges that had been burnt with his sister. As much as Bruce wanted to reassure Damian that everything would be okay, he couldn't. It became clear to him that from now on when interacting with the League, they had to be extremely careful because his daughter could easily become as much an ally as she could be a formidable opponent. He never thought he'd say it but he was afraid of what his little girl could become.

---

Author's note: YES!!! I FINISHED IN ONE NIGHT!!! YESSSSS LAWRD!!!! HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED!! PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK!! I WOULD LOVE LOVE LOVE TO HEAR WHAT YOU ALL SAY!! LIKE AND REPOST! BESITOSSS!!

[alienzil]

Grandfathered In

There, a job well done. Alfred thought to himself as he put the last grocery bag in the back of the car. Meal planning and shopping for a family as large as his own (and their semi frequent unexpected guests) did take quite a bit of his time but he'd managed to finish a bit early this week.

Alfred was thinking fondly of spending his extra time with a nice cup of tea and a book when he heard a noise from the nearby alley.

He stilled and listened intently. That was the sound of someone in pain. A child in pain if he wasn't mistaken (a sound he would rather he wasn't so familiar with). Well then, the tea would have to wait.

Alfred quietly moved into the alleyway, his hand inside his coat gripping the pistol hidden there. Hurt child or not, it never hurts to be cautious in Gotham.

"Good Heavens!"

There was a boy with pure white hair and bright, barely open, luminous green eyes. He was curled up, partially hidden by the dumpster, clearly barely clinging to consciousness and was oozing bright green blood from a large abdominal wound as well as several smaller cuts and burns.

He approached slowly and held out his hands to try to appear as friendly and non threatening as possible. "You appear to be in a bit of trouble young sir, perhaps I can help?"

The boy nodded weakly and Alfred knelt down and reached to pick him up. Best to get him into the car quickly and make use of his emergency first aid kit to stabilize the boy then get him home for further treatment. The hospital clearly wasn't an option for the young Meta... or alien perhaps? Something to ask once the boy was up to it.

Alfred carefully cradled the child and briskly moved back towards the car. He appeared to be a young teenager but he weighed so little, Alfred almost felt as though he was holding a toddler rather than a teen.

He lay the boy down in the back seat and leaned over to reassure him, gently moving his hair out of his eyes and petting is head in a soothing gesture. "There now, we'll have you right as rain in no time."

"Ha" the injured young Meta tried to laugh. "Might take...some time.. Don't ya think?"

Oh he'd fit right in, Alfred couldn't help thinking. Sassing even as he lay there bleeding. Well, in spirit if not quite the usual appearance, Alfred considered, eyeing the white hair and bright green eyes but-

A bright white suddenly light filled the car. Alfred blinked away the spots from his vision then stared in astonishment at the now black haired, blue eyed boy before him. Well then, fit right in indeed.

*****

Bruce blearily wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table just barely holding in a yawn. He'd been in space on a mission with the Justice League for over 3 weeks and had only just gotten back to Earth in time to crash into bed and get a few hours of sleep before he had to be back up.

He reached for his coffee and looked around the table at his children. Tired as he was, it was good to be home. It even looked like everyone had made it for breakfast, a rare event for their family. Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Stephanie, Barbara, Damian, Duke and...

"Who's this?" Bruce asked with friendly smile. Did one of his kids make a new friend?

Alfred silently appeared next to him. "That is your son."

"My son?" What was happening? Bruce was too tired for this. He counted again, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Stephanie, Barbara, Damian, Duke and...he looked closely at the last one. Black hair, blue eyes. Looks like one of his... He had no idea who this child was.

"Your son." Alfred said firmly as he sat some papers next to Bruce's plate.

Bruce looked down. Those were adoption papers.

"Oh. My. God." Stephanie whisper screamed from across the table. "That's where B got the adoption habit from!"

Bruce's attention was diverted from the multiple children trying to shush Stephanie as an uncapped pen was placed in front of him. He looked up as Alfred raised a single eyebrow and gave him a pointed look.

"Right, of course. My son."

He quickly scanned the adoption papers as he signed them then looked over at his latest child.

"Welcome to the family, Danny."

Note: I don't currently have plans to continue this. Anyone can add on if they would like to :-)

[thewitchblue]

Bruce isn't actually a playboy to the dismay of others. His wife is a shapeshifter and simply changes skins to keep up the reputation. Whenever someone comes to the door or she goes to a gala to support Bruce, she changes into a new person, unable to keep her hands off him as he gives whoever he's speaking to a smirk.

He wanted to flaunt her around, but he needed to keep Batman as far away from Bruce Wayne as he possibly could. This was the only way they could kill the rumours before they began. Nobody would suspect a playboy to be a fighter period, let alone be Batman.

It was actually her idea to use the playboy act to keep Batman's identity away from Bruce Wayne. They would never suspect Bruce Wayne. The closest the public has gotten to solve the masked vigilante was saying they are friends because of how linked Bruce is to the police. Even then, the rumour was killed quickly.

That didn't make keeping her a family secret easy, however. The boys nearly told the public multiple times because of how excited they were to have a mom like Batmom. If Bruce didn't intervene, Batmom would have been exposed, and it would have been all over the news. They are keeping her secret until they absolutely have to reveal her.

That all changed when the Justice League arrived at Wayne Manor after the heroes found out about his contingency plans. It was a trust exercise. One Bruce wasn't happy about, but he considered it necessary.

Nobody knew about her or her shapeshifting (which was the coolest thing ever to the kids) except their family. Batmom was kept a guarded secret and loved deeply by both of the kids she helped adopt so far.

The boys quickly learned to keep her a secret after a couple of close calls in interviews. Not even their friends knew of her. She always wore a different skin when they were around and acted all embarrassed about being caught as another fling.

Batmom waved to them as Bruce was giving them a tour. She was relaxing in the kitchen with Alfred. They were having a pleasant conversation that Batmom considered more engaging than the heroes. She assumed they would simply look the other way and dismiss her as another woman Bruce Wayne managed to reel in. After all, this is her regular skin. A skin she rarely wore outside the Manor.

"Woah, who is this?"

Barry asked Bruce with a flirtatious smile. Bruce glared at the speedster as he made his way to his wife's side.

"My wife."

He replied with a voice that promised violence if the heroes attempted to flirt with her. He pulled out a necklace that held his wedding ring on it and held her hand. She was his, as much as he was hers, and he'll be dammed if someone stole the best thing to ever happen to his family.

"You have a wife?!"

Oliver questioned loudly. Bruce quirked a confused eyebrow at Oliver. His friend seemed stunned. The playboy Bruce Wayne has a wife, and nobody knows about her?

"I see you with a new woman constantly. When did...this happen?"

With a timid smile, his wife waved her hand while shape-shifting into an entirely different woman. She changed her entire appearance. Hair, clothes, eyes, even her face and body type were different.

"This happened ten years ago, Oliver."

The heroes had never been more surprised. The cold, bad Bat had such deep love for his family that he couldn't even keep the adoration off his face when he looked at her.

Just as they began to digest the fact Batman is married, an excited seven-year old child came sliding in with an older kid grinning behind him. They seemed to be in a game of tag before the older one launched the younger into Batmom's arms with a massive grin on his face.

The woman giggled as she caught him, twirling in a circle while tossing him in the air until he, too, fell into a fit of giggles. She held him like Simba from the Lion King for a moment to show him off before holding him normally. She peppered kisses all over his face with a smile until he began squirming in her arms.

She grinned at her boys. They were her everything. She adopted them quickly after she married Bruce. The boys were excited to have a full family, so they agreed immediately to the adoption. They were her boys from day one.

She decided to show little Jason mercy, apparently as she stopped her affection attack. However, she kept him in her arms, not wanting to let him go just yet. She turned back to the heroes in normal clothes with a beautiful smile.

"Oh, baby birds, say hello to Bruce's colleagues."

Suddenly, both young boys were attempting to hide with shy smiles. Even the extroverted Dick was timid at first. Neither of them were used to the type of attention they got whenever they went out with Bruce. Not even Dick, who was a performer.

The elder of the two wrapped his little arms around her waist, which caused her to ruffle his hair affectionately. Suddenly, the heroes all understood why Bruce fell hopelessly in love with the mother in front of them.

"Wait, wait, wait, you kept a shapeshifter from us?!"

Barry asked. His brain seemed to finally compute the facts in front of him. He blinked rapidly at the happy family. Never in a million years would he ever think the Batman could be a family man with a wife and children. Batmom casually said,

"I'm afraid that's my own decision, Barry. We all agreed it would be for the best that I was a secret. We tried to keep the boys a secret, too, but they both seemed to have... other plans." She, quite honestly, never even considered fighting. Sure, she could, but her life was with her boys and Bruce.

A playful smirk played on her lips as she looked at her children as they sheepishly smiled back.

Jason squirmed in his mother's arms and hid his face in her shoulder. He was still getting used to the unconditional love everyone in the family gave him.

With a gentle kiss on the top of Jason's head, she finally sets him down only for Bruce to pick him up again and place him on his shoulders. Tiny Jason squawked in protest. Dick snickered at his mother's side, still partially hiding behind her.

She smirked and playfully bumped him with her hip. Her family is her life, and she plans to keep them as close to her as possible. The League watched Batman and their Batmom play together with grins. They loved Batmom already.

[dxxdhood]

drains me slowly

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship

wc: 3.3k

a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.

No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse. 

Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.

He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.

But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.

That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.

But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?

And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.

So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.

…

“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”

“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”

“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”

It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”

You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”

And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”

The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?

Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.

You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.

Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.

“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”

Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”

He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.

He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.

But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth. 

What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.

Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.

Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.

Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.

“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”

His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.

“Hang-out.”

Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.

“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.

He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.

Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.

“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.

“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”

“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.

Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element. 

“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”

And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.

His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible. 

It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.

“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.

“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”

“We do?”

“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”

“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.

“And why’s that?”

Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”

“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”

“You say that, but…”

“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”

Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”

“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”

No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”

Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”

And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.

…

It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible–  a big ask.

“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”

“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”

“When I get to feel.”

Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.

“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”

“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”

You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”

“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”

He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”

Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat. 

Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.

You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.

You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.

“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.

“Good, seems like you’re learning.”

You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.

He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.

While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.

Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”

Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.

“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.

You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.

He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.

“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s  powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.

“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs. 

“Not sure, umm, a little more–”

And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.

From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.

“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.

As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.

“Thank–”

You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up. 

[bodybaggage]

Ghostly Heir or Batty Custody?

DP X DC

———

The Justice League Watchtower was an advanced piece of technology, housing the world’s greatest heroes. But even in a place dedicated to protecting the Earth, some things were simply unavoidable—like gossip.

It had started innocently enough, as these things often do. Superman, having just returned from Gotham, was discussing the latest developments in the Batcave with Wonder Woman over a cup of coffee. The conversation was meant to be private, but when you have people like the Flash who can be in and out of a room before anyone notices, privacy is a relative term.

“So, Batman has another kid?” Superman had said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow. “Another one? Are we running a daycare now?”

Superman shrugged. “Not sure. But he’s different from the others. White hair, glows a little. Bruce is being… secretive.”

“Bruce is always secretive,” Wonder Woman pointed out.

“Yeah, but this one seems—” Superman’s words were cut off as the Flash zoomed by, pretending to be busy with something else. The two superhumans exchanged a glance but said nothing more, knowing that once the speedster got wind of something, the whole League would know within the hour.

And they did.

Back in Gotham, Bruce Wayne—better known as Batman—was oblivious to the brewing storm. He sat in the Batcave, going over the latest reports on Gotham’s criminal activity with his usual intensity. Beside him, a ghostly figure floated lazily, occasionally glancing at the screens with mild interest.

Danny Fenton—known to most as Danny Phantom—had been in Gotham for a few weeks now, lying low while he figured out how to deal with some supernatural issues back in Amity Park. Clockwork had suggested Gotham as a good place to lay low, citing the city’s reputation for attracting all sorts of weirdos. Besides, Clockwork had argued, Batman wouldn’t care as long as Danny didn’t cause trouble.

And for the most part, Danny hadn’t. He’d stayed out of Gotham’s wayward criminal elements, kept his ghostly powers under wraps, and only occasionally wandered the streets at night to stretch his legs (or float, as it were).

Of course, he hadn’t counted on the Bat Family.

Damian had challenged him to a duel within minutes of their first meeting, insisting that he prove himself worthy of staying in the Batcave. Danny had countered by turning intangible and letting Damian tire himself out, which only seemed to frustrate the young Robin more.

Tim had interrogated him about the nature of ectoplasm and ghost powers, scribbling notes furiously as Danny tried his best to explain without giving too much away.

Jason had simply grunted, muttering something about “another brat” before disappearing on his motorcycle, while Dick had been the only one to offer a somewhat normal welcome.

“You’re like, what, the seventh kid Bruce has taken in?” Dick had said, clapping Danny on the back. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

“I’m not staying here permanently,” Danny had replied, but Dick had just laughed, as if Danny’s words were the punchline to a joke only he understood.

Things had been relatively quiet since then—until now.

It started as a low hum, a barely noticeable vibration in the air. Alfred, the ever-watchful butler, was the first to notice something amiss.

“Master Wayne,” Alfred said calmly, setting down the tray of tea he’d just brought in. “We appear to have… company.”

Bruce looked up from the Batcomputer, his eyes narrowing as the hum grew louder, evolving into a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Batcave. Danny, who had been floating upside down, lazily spinning in midair, suddenly snapped to attention.

“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Danny muttered, his expression turning from bored to annoyed in seconds.

“I’m afraid I cannot,” Alfred replied, his tone as even as ever, despite the growing disturbance.

The rumble turned into a roar, and suddenly, with a burst of green light, a swirling portal opened up in the middle of the Batcave. The vortex crackled with energy, and from it stepped a towering figure clad in ghostly armor, a crown of ectoplasmic fire atop his head.

Pariah Dark, the Ghost King, had arrived.

“BATMAN!” Pariah’s voice boomed through the cave, rattling the glass cases that held the old Robin suits. “I, Pariah Dark, King of the Infinite Realms, have come to challenge you for the custody of my heir!”

There was a moment of silence as the words hung in the air. Danny facepalmed, groaning audibly. “This is not happening.”

Bruce, for his part, remained as stoic as ever, though his eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. “Your heir?”

“Yes, my heir!” Pariah bellowed, his eyes glowing with ectoplasmic energy. “The boy you have taken into your care! I will not allow this—this mortal to usurp my claim!”

Bruce’s gaze flicked to Danny, who looked thoroughly unamused. “Is there something you forgot to mention?”

“Oh, come on!” Danny threw his hands up in frustration. “This isn’t what it looks like! I’m not his heir, and I’m definitely not up for custody!”

Pariah seemed undeterred by Danny’s protests. “You defeated me in battle, boy. By the laws of the Infinite Realms, that makes you my heir! And now this Bat-creature seeks to claim you as his own! I will not stand for it!”

Bruce’s expression remained impassive. “I’m not trying to claim him.”

“See?” Danny gestured to Bruce. “Totally not trying to claim me. So you can just go back to the Ghost Zone, Pariah. No custody battle needed.”

Pariah’s eyes narrowed, his fiery crown flaring. “The only way to resolve this is through combat! Batman, I challenge you to a duel for the boy!”

Bruce glanced at the portal, calculating the odds. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I will take the boy by force!” Pariah declared, raising his massive sword, which seemed to materialize out of thin air, crackling with ectoplasmic energy.

Danny floated down between the two, trying to keep the peace. “Guys, let’s just calm down. No need for a duel. I’m fine. No one’s taking anyone by force.”

Pariah looked down at Danny, his expression a mix of paternal concern and royal indignation. “Do not worry, my heir. I will defend your honor.”

Danny groaned again. “I don’t need my honor defended. I need you to stop making this weird.”

Before Danny could protest further, Bruce stepped forward, his voice as calm as ever. “Very well. A duel, then.”

“Seriously?” Danny looked at Bruce, incredulous. “You’re just going to agree to this?”

“If it ends the situation quickly, yes,” Bruce replied, his tone as dry as ever. “This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with an overprotective guardian.”

Pariah raised his sword, clearly satisfied with the outcome. “Prepare yourself, mortal! I will not hold back!”

“Hold on, hold on!” Danny zipped between them again, clearly exasperated. “We don’t need to do this! Pariah, go back to the Ghost Zone. Batman, you don’t have to fight him.”

Pariah looked genuinely perplexed. “But… the honor of the Infinite Realms demands it.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Danny insisted. “The Infinite Realms don’t care about some weird custody battle! Besides, I’m not a kid, and I’m not staying here permanently! I’m just crashing for a bit!”

Pariah frowned, lowering his sword slightly. “You… are not staying?”

“No!” Danny said, exasperated. “I’m not staying! I’m not your heir! I’m just Danny, okay?”

The Ghost King looked around, as if trying to process this information. “But… you are under his care. It was reported by reliable sources.”

“Reliable sources?” Danny echoed. “Who told you that?”

Pariah seemed to hesitate for the first time. “A rather talkative sorcerer in a trench coat. He mentioned it while muttering about ‘bloody bats’ and ‘undead nuisances.’”

Danny blinked, realization dawning. “Constantine. Of course.”

Bruce’s expression remained unchanged, though there was a faint glimmer of irritation in his eyes. “This… Constantine has been spreading rumors?”

Danny sighed heavily, feeling more tired by the minute. “Look, can we just forget this whole thing happened? Pariah, you go back to ruling the Ghost Zone. I’ll handle Constantine. And Batman, you can go back to doing… whatever it is you do.”

Pariah Dark seemed to mull this over for a moment before finally lowering his sword completely. “Very well. But know this, boy—if ever you require my assistance, you have but to call.”

“Sure, sure,” Danny muttered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With one last, dramatic sweep of his cape, Pariah Dark stepped back into the swirling green portal, which closed behind him with a final, ominous crackle.

For a moment, the Batcave was silent. Then Danny turned to Bruce, looking both sheepish and annoyed. “So… I guess I should have warned you about that.”

Bruce simply nodded, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Next time, try to keep your interdimensional family disputes to a minimum.”

“I’ll do my best,” Danny promised, floating back toward the Batcomputer. “But with my luck, that’s not gonna be easy.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Bruce replied dryly, already turning back to his work. “And tell Constantine to keep his mouth shut.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Danny muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he floated back to his usual spot, thinking about the supernatural messes that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

As the Batcave returned to its usual state of brooding silence, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Gotham wasn’t the best place to lay low after all. But with the alternative being another encounter with Pariah, he figured the Batcave wasn’t so bad—at least, not until the next interdimensional incident.

[shockercoco]

Chasing Feelings

Tyler Owens x reader

warnings - mutual pining, jealous!reader, some swear words, fluff

word count - 2838

a/n - this was literally supposed to come out within a week of the release of twisters, but I’ve been gone for a month lol. I took so many breaks while writing this, so I'm not completely sure everything goes together, but it should. thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy :)

You’ve had a crush on Tyler ever since the day you met him, and to you, he was way out of your league. You also weren’t the only one who felt this way; the amount of girls who showed up at empty fields just to meet Tyler was insane, but could you really blame them?

Tyler has so much charisma to the point where it seems like he’s attracted to everyone he meets. 

When he stares directly into everyone’s eyes, giving them his undivided attention, and flashes that charming smile of his, it’s kind of hard to tell who he actually is or isn’t flirting with. 

You, of course, were no different, so how the hell were you supposed to know that he liked you back?

Tyler was from Arkansas and he and his team decided to move to Oklahoma to storm chase several seasons ago. When he first showed up that day at the gas station with Boone filming his every move, you thought that he was just another adrenaline junky wanting to see a tornado  up close for views. At the time you were a part of another group of chasers from Oklahoma, and since you had already made up your mind about him, you decided it was best to ignore him.

But, he made it hard.

You were surprised to see him walk over to your group and start chatting it up with a couple of your teammates. Turns out, they knew him from his youtube channel and were fans. Having him so close to you made it easier to check him out, which Tyler had noticed, but never called you out for it.

He came up to introduce himself to you, giving you a smile and taking off his sunglasses as he walked towards you. 

“You’re a long way from home,” you had told him – you had overheard him talking about his hometown in Arkansas.

“This is my home now,” he had said.

He had pointed out that he was familiar with some of your work and began joking around with you so casually like he had known you his whole life. Unfortunately, you became immediately hooked.

You spent that night binging all of his videos and past live streams because you were oh so wrong about him.

That day led you to where you are now, a part of Tyler’s crew and regularly going out on chases for the fun of it.

“How are you doin’ today, Bambi?” you hear Tyler walk up and come stand next to you as you adjust the lens on your camera. You, and all the other crews, were currently at a gas station preparing for the coming storm.

When he had first given you that nickname, you had told him it was basic, which resulted in him smirking and saying, “Ain’t nothing basic about you.”

You still think about that moment to this day.

“Just fine, Tyler, is there something I can help you with?” you answer, not taking your eyes off your camera.

“What, I can’t talk to my favorite person?” he asks. 

You can hear the smile in his voice, and when you finally turn around to look at him, you aren’t surprised to see it spread across his face. “I thought Boone was your favorite person?” you tilt your head at him.

“I can have more than one favorite,” he says, nudging you with his soldier.

You raise your eyebrows and glance over at Boone, who was already looking in your direction with a knowing smile, and say, “I wonder how Boone would feel about that.”

Boone was Tyler’s best friend and had known you had a crush on Tyler the day you joined the team, and since then has repeatedly told you to confess to Tyler. Every time you tell him no, he just tells you yes because according to him Tyler feels the same way about you. It didn’t take long for Dani and Lily to catch on either, but unlike Boone, they don’t pressure you.

“No need to start any trouble,” Tyler jokes, and you laugh at that. He opens his mouth to say something else, but stops when he hears the sound of more vehicles pull up. 

The two of you turn around in time for you to see the crew exit their vehicles, including Javi and what you know to be Kate. You’ve never met Kate given the fact that she rarely decides to come back home to Oklahoma, but from what you’ve heard she’s really good with tornadoes.

You watch as the pair head towards you – Javi coming up to hug you while Kate goes to hug Tyler. Javi shoots you a look as he glances over at the two, and you quickly give his shoulder a shove, causing him to let out a laugh.

Javi is also amongst those who know you like Tyler. This crush is honestly starting to become a little pathetic.

Kate pulls away from Tyler and looks over at you with a kind smile, holding her hand out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Kate. I’ve heard a lot about you from Javi, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”

According to Boone, Tyler couldn’t keep his eyes off of Kate the last time she was here. At the time your migraines had started to come back so you had decided to sit the chase out, and good thing you did because there was no way you could handle watching that scene unfold.

You offer Kate a smile back as you shake her hand. “Same here, it’s nice to meet you.”

“What brings you city folks out here?” Tyler jokes.

Kate rolls her eyes at the nickname. “I’m doing the same thing the two of you are doing – storm chasing,” she replies as she looks out at the horizon at the clouds forming, her hair moving with the breeze.

“I thought you left Storm Par,” you say to Javi as you motion your head towards the white trucks

“We did, but that doesn’t mean we can’t use their equipment. They have some really high tech stuff – we might as well put it to good use,” Javi explains. He then looks over at Kate and gives her a nudge. “Not like we need it since Kate’s here.”

Kate gives him a small smile at the compliment.

“Well, city girl, which direction are we going in today?” Tyler asks as Kate bends down to take a dandelion into her hand. Tyler takes his sunglasses off in order to get a better look at the sky. 

It’s a question Tyler usually asks you when it’s just the two of you in his truck with the rest of the crew following behind in their vehicles. You have no right to be jealous, but that doesn’t stop the feeling of jealousy from growing in your chest. Choosing to ignore it, you take a deep breath and watch Kate, waiting for her answer.

You watch as a gust of wind blows the specks of dandelion out of her hand, causing Kate to look up into the sky at a dark funnel beginning to take form.

“That one,” Kate points.

“Are you sure?” Tyler questions in a teasing manner, one of his eyebrows raising.

“I’ll tell you later,” Kate replies, and then follows it with a question, “ do ya mind if I ride with you?”

“Not at all,” Tyller answers, but then turns to look at you,” as long as my trusty navigator doesn’t mind.”

What the hell are you supposed to say? No? 

You don’t even notice your tense jaw until you open your mouth to answer. “Of course not, you two go ahead,” you tell Tyler, looking between him and Kate as you offer up a smile.

“Well then it’s settled, let’s ride. Just make sure you don’t get me lost,” Tyler smirks as he turns to walk towards his truck. Kate rolls her eyes as she follows him, a small smile on her lips.

Javi turns to you once the pair are out of earshot. “You don’t mind?” he repeats your words, not believing you for a second.

“I don’t,” you give him a shrug as you begin walking towards his Storm Par truck. Javi follows right behind you, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Mhm. You look like you were about to pop a blood vessel,” Javi lets out a laugh.

You stop in your tracks and turn to face him. “Was it that obvious?” you ask, your eyes wide.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” his smile drops once he sees the look on your face. You release a breath and continue walking. Once the two of you are in the safety of his truck, Javi asks, “you really like him, huh?”

“Unfortunately,” you huff out. “I’m slowly trying to get over it, though.”

“Why?”

“Because it's a useless little schoolgirl crush, and it’s not like he’s actually going to like me back, so there’s no point in continuing to suffer.”

Javi just hums in response, starting the vehicle and placing his hands on the steering wheel. Then he glances over at you, “I say you should hold out, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Before you can answer, Tyler’s truck pulls up beside you guys on Javi’s side of the car. Tyler leans forward to look over at the two of you before moving his finger in a swirling motion and driving off.

“That’s your man, huh?” Javi gives you a questioning look, his tone light.

You let out a small laugh, “Just drive the damn truck, Javi.”

The chase was eventful as always. Kate’s instincts were right and led the group right into the tornado’s path, where Tyler stopped to anchor his truck. The rest of you hung back as you watched Tyler shoot fireworks into the eye of the storm. 

Even though you had some distance on them, you could still hear the hoots and hollers coming from their spot in the field. The group of tornado watchers that had decided to join the chase got out of their vehicles to join the celebration.

Javi looks over at you and shakes his head in fake disappointment, resulting in you rolling your eyes.

After the chase everyone decides to go out for drinks before heading to the motel. From your spot at the bar next to Javi, you can see Tyler in the back of the bar throwing darts with Kate.

“You know, you should blink every once in a while,” you hear a voice say in your ear. You jump and turn around to see Boone standing there with a grin and a beer in one of his hands.

“I don’t think she cares at this point, she has been ignoring me all night for that redneck,” Javi jokes.

You scoff, “No, I haven’t.”

“Oh really? What was I just talking about then?” Javi looks at you with his eyebrows raised. Boone joins him and turns his attention back to you.

Your mouth opens, but you quickly close it when you realize you don’t have an answer. You let out a sigh as you drop your head into your hands. “I’m sorry,” you say in defeat.

“Don’t worry about it,” Javi says, “I just can’t wait for the two of you to finally get together so this can end.”

“You and me both, brother,” Boone says, clinking his beer bottle against Javi’s.

As the night starts to come to an end, you say your goodbyes to the group before heading back to the motel. It was just across the street, and the majority of the people in the area were tornado chasers, so you had no problem walking back by yourself.

After making your way up the stairs and into your room, you decide on taking a quick shower before heading off to bed.

When you get out, you’re about to turn the lights and the tv off so you can go to sleep when you hear a knock on your door. Assuming it was Boone, Dani, or even Lily, you open the door without hesitation, only to reveal Tyler on the other side.

He stands in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at you with a gentle smile and his clothes still on from the day. “Hey, there. You left without sayin’ goodbye.”

“Well I told Boone, Javi, Dani, and Lily goodbye, so technically I did,” you tell him. A gust of wind from the night breeze blows through the doorway, causing you to cross your arms over your chest.

“Ouch, I see I’m not important anymore,” Tyler says.

You let out a small laugh. “I’m pretty sure you don’t need me to tell you you’re important.”

“You know I do,” he says.

You let out a small hum in response before asking, “So where’s Kate?”

“I’m actually not sure, last time I saw her, I think she was talking with Javi,” he answers, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances back at the parking lot. Then he shrugs and says, “I had to leave her since she was kicking my ass in darts so who cares.”

“Didn’t enjoy having your ego bruised, huh?” you joke, and Tyler rolls his eyes.

“Hey, I don’t have a problem with gettin’ beat by a woman,” he chuckles.

“Whatever you say,” you smile at him. “Was there something else you wanted? I was just about to go to bed.”

Tyler clears his throat. “Uh yeah, there is actually,” he tells you as he stands up straight. You raise your eyebrows as you wait for him to continue. “I was wonderin’, well hopin’, you would want to do somethin’. You know, just the two of us,” he says.

Is he - No, let’s not jump to conclusions.

“Don’t we always?” you question.

“Well, yeah, but I meant…you know,” Tyler begins to scratch the back of his neck, and glances down at the ground, “Like a date.”

You blink. And blink again. And again.

Then when Tyler notices your silence, he adds, “But I totally understand if you don’t want to.”

You blink again. “Like seriously?” you finally ask. Your eyebrows are furrowed, still not completely believing him.

“Yes,” he says.

“Okay,” you nod, a small smile starting to form on your lips.

Okay? That’s all you have to say?

“Yeah?” Tyler perks up, and you nod again.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

Tyler chuckles. “You know, I don’t know why I was nervous. I already knew you had a crush on me.”

You choke on your spit as you give him an incredulous look. “You what?”

“Yeah, and you know I figured you would catch on to me by now, but I wasn’t sure if you were and just ignoring me or what,” he smirks.

“And how exactly was I supposed to catch on?” you ask, adding air quotes at the end.

“I’ve been flirting with you this whole time,” he tells you like it’s obvious.

“Tyler, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you flirt with anyone,” you tell him.

“No, I don’t,” Tyler’s face twists up, and you give him a look. He thinks for a second before saying, “Well, yeah, I guess I do. Kind of.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘kind of’?”

“I feel like my serious flirting is different from my usual charming self,” he shoots you a wink.

“No. No it’s not Tyler. Your usual charming self made me think you like Kate,” you tell him, causing his eyebrows to raise in amusement.

Well…maybe you should’ve kept that last part to yourself.

“You thought I liked Kate?” he smiles, leaning in a little bit more.

You roll your eyes and decide not to answer. Tyler takes your silence as a greenlight to keep talking shit.

“Were you jealous?”

You scoff as your eyes widen, “how dare you!”

“You were!” he exclaims, your reaction giving you away.

Feeling your face begin to heat up and wanting to hide from the embarrassment you back up to be able to close the door in his face. “Goodnight Tyler,” you mumble, fully ready to be alone once again, but of course Tyler puts his hand up to stop you.

“Oh come on, Bambi, don’t shy up on me now,” he smirks, going back to leaning on the door with his palm still on the door.

“Says the one who got nervous to ask me out,” you point out, causing Tyler to laugh. “Goodnight,” you repeat, and once again you try to close the door, but you’re met with resistance.

Tyler’s laughter dies down. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” he tells you. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, giving him a stern look.

“Come on, I promise I won’t tease you anymore.”

You sigh. “Fine.”

Tyler thanks you as you step aside to make room for him to enter the room, but as he walks past you, he says, “But Kate? Really?” 

Yeah, he isn’t going to let this go anytime soon.

like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[phdmama]

yeah baby

[sugugasm]

“NERDS DO IT BETTER.” | satoru gojo

⟡ tags : nerd! satoru + popular! yn, gojo loses his virginity at the hot cheerleader’s house party - content includes : reader uses she/her pronouns, fem! reader, riding, fingering, inexperienced! gojo, pet names, etc. also shout out 2 my fav @ramonathinks m’ so proud of this piece bae i hope you luv it jus as much as i do !!! MDNI 19+ 3.7K WC

satoru adjusted his glasses nervously as he and geto approached the sprawling mansion, music and laughter spilling out into the warm night air. “i don’t know about this, man,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “parties aren’t really my scene.”

geto rolled his eyes. “come on, live a little! when was the last time you got out and socialized? besides, you-know-who will be here . .” he elbowed gojo with a knowing grin.

gojo flushed, ducking his head. “like [★] would even look twice at me. she’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny.”

“well yeah, not with that attitude!” geto chided. “you’re a catch, gojo. smart, funny, stupid handsome. any girl would be lucky to have you. just talk to her, be your charming self. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“she could laugh in my face?” gojo suggested glumly. “or have her quarterback boyfriend beat me up?”

geto sighed in exasperation, slinging an arm around his best friend's shoulders. “you’ll never know if you don’t try. [★] is single and i’ve seen her checking you out in class when she thinks no one’s looking. trust me, you’ve got a shot. don’t waste it being a pussy.”

gojo took a fortifying breath as they crossed the threshold into the packed house. “okay. i’ll talk to her. but if i crash and burn, you owe me a whole tub of ice cream and a weekend of binge gaming, no complaints.”

“deal,” geto agreed easily, scanning the crowd. “now let’s get you a drink and go find your dream girl.”

and within only an hour and several red solo cups later, gojo could be found sandwiched between two jocks on a couch, only half-listening to their drunken debate about the upcoming game. his eyes kept flicking to where you held court across the room, radiant in a barely-there crop top and mini-skirt as you laughed with your girls. you were a vision, beautiful hair and glowing skin and dangly earrings catching the light. ethereal, untouchable.

what would a goddess like you possibly want with a loser like him?

and as if on cue, your gaze met his and your glossy lips curved in a small secret smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. his breathing hitched and he looked away quickly, face heating. okay, maybe geto had a point about you noticing him . . .

“who wants to play seven minutes in heaven?” your bubbly friend tiffany trilled over the music, brandishing an empty vodka bottle. “let’s make things interesting!”

wolf-whistles and drunken cheers met her suggestion as people began arranging themselves in a loose circle. gojo watched you toss your hair over your shoulder as you joined, a strange fluttering in his stomach. he jumped when geto clapped him on the shoulder.

“dude, this is perfect!” geto crowed. “the ideal low-pressure way to get some one-on-one time with [★]. let's get you in that circle.” he started pulling a sputtering gojo up off the couch.

“wha-geto, no way!” gojo protested, but it was too late. geto had already shoved him into the circle, right across from you. you quirked an eyebrow at him and his stomach somersaulted. was that a pleased gleam in your eyes?

the bottle made a few uneventful rounds - geto got seven giggly minutes with the head of the drama club, a blushing band student got dragged off by her fellow tuba player, and then . . tiffany passed the bottle to you with a significant look. gojo’s heart started smacking against his chest as you placed it in the center and gave it a deft spin, slender wrist twisting gracefully.

he watched with bated breath as the bottle rotated, transfixed. it seemed to spin for an eternity before finally slowing . . and stopping. neck pointed directly at gojo. blood roared in his ears as hoots and hollers erupted around the circle. you were looking right at him, a small smile playing about your glossy lips. “guess s’ jus’ you n’ me, cutie,” you said with a wink, getting elegantly to your feet.

in a daze, gojo stumbled upright, barely registering the good-natured ribbing and back slaps from the other players. you held out a hand to him and he took it automatically, skin tingling where it met yours. your fingers laced intimately through his as you tugged him away from the group . . . and toward the stairs?

“um, [★]?” gojo asked, voice cracking humiliatingly. “isn’t the closet that way?”

you threw a smile over your shoulder and his knees nearly buckled. “i got a better spot in mind. somethin’ more . . private.”

by the time his sluggish brain processed the implications of that, you were leading him into a bedroom. your bedroom, if the riot of pink and stuffed animals everywhere was any indication. you flicked on a lamp, bathing the space in soft flattering light.

gojo stood awkwardly by the door, heart doing double-time as he drank in the adorable organized chaos. various raye, boygenius, and sanrio posters on the walls, rainbow lego sets on the shelves. it was delightfully telling and somewhat . . surprising, so at odds with your smokeshow attitude and queen bee reputation. he was utterly charmed.

“sorry about the mess,” you said, sounding uncharacteristically shy as you perched on the edge of the lacy bedspread. “i know it’s a lot.”

“no, i love it!” gojo blurted, then winced. real smooth. “i mean, it’s really cute. suits you.”

“yeah?” you asked, sounding pleased. you patted the space beside you in clear invitation. “i don’t bite . . unless i’m asked nicely. c’mon, come sit with me, gojo.”

on slightly unsteady legs, he crossed the plush rug to sink down next to you, hyperaware of the warmth of your bare thigh against his denim-clad one. “so, um, i don’t really know how this is supposed to go,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. “i’m not exactly a seven minutes in heaven expert.”

“well, we’ve got some time to figure it out together,” you said, angling your body toward his. “maybe we could start with just talking? get to know each other a little?”

so that’s what you did. you started off with the typical small talk - classes, hobbies, favorite bands. but the conversation quickly deepened and expanded. you found yourself opening up to him, confessing your secret dreams and fears, things you rarely shared with anyone. in turn, he revealed his geeky passions, his insecurities, his hopes for the future.

the more you learned about the sweet, clever, quietly funny boy beneath the nerdy exterior, the more your heart softened and warmed. he was so genuine, so different from the jocks and rich boys you usually ran with. being with him felt comfortable, natural, intoxicating.

at some point, you’d shifted closer to him on the bed, your folded legs overlapping his, shoulders brushing. as you giggled your way through an anecdote, you rested a hand on his strong thigh without thinking. he tensed slightly and you felt a little thrill, a flicker of heat. you squeezed gently, fingertips pressing into firm muscle.

“m’ probably boring you,” you said with a wry smile, glancing at him through your lashes. “jus’ rambling on about myself. we could do something else, if you want. maybe, y’know, uphold the seven minutes tradition . .”

he inhaled sharply and you thrilled at the effect you were clearly having on him. “you mean . . you want to kiss me?”

“i mean, i definitely wouldn’t object,” you murmured coyly. “i like you a lot, satoru. in case it isn’t already obvious.”

his blue eyes darkened behind his glasses. “i really like you too, [★],” he said, voice low and rough. “an embarrassing amount.”

“yeah?” you breathed. “so are you going to kiss me, or . . do i have to beg?”

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “well, um. i-i’ve never really done anything like that before,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle. “i don’t even know how i’ve gotten this far.”

“that’s okay,” you assured him, placing a hand on his knee and feeling him tense slightly under your touch. “we can take it slow, figure it out together. m’ not exactly an expert either.”

he nodded, looking relieved and grateful for your understanding. emboldened, you leaned in, giving him time to pull away. spoiler alert, he didn’t. his eyes just fluttered closed as you brushed your lips softly over his. they were warm and smooth, molding sweetly to your own. after a moment of stillness, he started to move his mouth tentatively against yours.

you let him set the pace, parting your lips in silent invitation. his tongue shyly traced the seam of your mouth and you opened for him on a sigh. he licked inside carefully, exploring you with gentle curiosity that made warmth bloom through your veins. you stroked your tongue along his, encouraging, and felt him shudder against you.

slowly, you sank back into your mountain of pillows, pulling him down with you. he settled over you carefully, a pleasant weight, strong and solid in all the right places. your fingers tangled in his dark hair as the kisses deepened, wetter, hotter. his own hands skimmed down your sides to settle on your hips, squeezing gently as he rocked subtly against you.

when you finally broke apart, you were both flushed and breathing unsteadily. “is this okay?” you checked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “we can stop anytime if you’re uncomfortable.”

he shook his head immediately, eyes dark and intense behind his slightly fogged glasses. “no, i don’t wanna’ stop. i want you so bad, [★]. i’m just nervous i’ll do something wrong.”

your heart melted. “you won’t, satoru,” you promised. “we’ll go slow, i’ll show you. s’ all a process, ‘kay? jus’ do what feels good.”

he nodded, some of the tension easing from his frame. you pulled him back down for another kiss, lush and lingering. as your mouths moved together, you fumbled for the hem of his shirt, rucking it up his back. he broke away just long enough for you to pull it over his head and toss it aside before his lips found yours again.

your hands roamed his bared torso greedily, marveling at the lean muscle, the heat of his skin. gojo might look like a lanky nerd at first glance, but his body told a completely different story. you wanted to map every ridge and plane with your hands and mouth, discover all the secret places that would make him shake and gasp and moan. he shivered as your fingers skimmed over his ribs, his stomach, thumbs just brushing his nipples.

he made a hungry sound into your mouth when you lingered there, circling the tender buds questioningly. taking the hint, you tweaked them gently, rolling the sensitive flesh between your fingers. he jolted against you as if electrified, a moan vibrating in his chest.

“y’like that,” you guessed, doing it again and feeling his hips stutter forward helplessly into the cradle of your thighs.

“y-yeah,” he breathed, sounding almost surprised himself. “it feels really good.”

spurred on by his responsiveness, you devoted yourself to taking him apart, finding all the places that made him twitch and pant and whimper so sweetly. you kissed across his collarbones, scraped your teeth over his pulse point, soothed the sting with your tongue. you felt dizzy with him, drunk on the salt of his skin, his scent of clean and arousal, the incoherent sounds he made under your touch.

before long he was squirming restlessly against you, hard and insistent against your hip. “please,” he mumbled into your hair. “i need . .”

“what do you need?” you coaxed, nipping at his jaw. “tell me.”

he shuddered, hands flexing on your hips as he ground subtly against you. “i need — fuck, i need to touch you. need you to touch me. god, [★], i don’t know, i just . . please?”

“shhh, don’t stress, honey,” you soothed even as heat surged through you at his breathless plea. “let me take care of you.”

hooking a leg around his waist, you flipped your positions in one smooth motion, straddling his hips. he gazed up at you with something like awe, eyes wide and dark, lips kiss-swollen. your heart tripped over itself at the picture he made, wrecked and wanting in your rumpled sheets. quickly, before you could lose your nerve, you stripped off your own top and unhooked your bra, baring yourself to his heated stare. his hands came up immediately to cup your breasts, palming the soft weight greedily before catching your nipples between his fingers.

“aah!” you gasped, arching into the touch as sparks shot down your spine to throb between your legs. your hips rolled down against his, your clothed sexes grinding together deliciously. “y-yes, gojo, jus’ like that!”

emboldened by your encouragement, he explored your body just as thoroughly as you had his, broad hands and curious fingers finding all your most sensitive places. you were panting and mewling by the time he reached the button of your skirt with a questioning glance.

“please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to help him shimmy the fabric down your legs. your panties quickly followed, leaving you bare to his burning gaze. and slowly, almost reverently, he reached out to touch — he couldn’t help it, fingertips skimming up your inner thighs. you shivered and parted them further in silent invitation. his eyes locked on yours as he carefully traced your slick folds, circling your aching entrance before moving up to swirl over your clit.

“show me how you like it?” he rasped, voice low and rough with arousal.

biting back a whimper, you covered his hand with your own, directing his movements. “like this,” you instructed breathlessly, guiding his fingers in tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “a little firmer, mmm . .”

he followed your lead perfectly, rubbing and stroking until your thighs were quaking and you were moaning brokenly. it felt good, so good, but you needed more. “inside,” you pleaded when coherent thought became difficult. “gojo, please, put one inside . .” he swore under his breath at your words but quickly obeyed, carefully sinking one long finger into your fluttering heat. you cried out sharply at the intimate penetration, hips canting down to take him deeper. he watched your face avidly as he started to pump in and out, curling and twisting gently as he went.

“m-more,” you gasped, head thrown back as he found a particularly sensitive spot. “another, toru, i can take it.”

he groaned like he was the one being pleasured as he pushed a second finger in alongside the first, stretching you so exquisitely. he scissored gently, working you open, before crooking them just right to rub firmly against your g-spot.

you collapsed forward onto his chest with a fractured moan, fingers scrabbling at his heaving shoulders as he massaged that magic button with devastating accuracy. you knew you could easily come just like this, spitted on his clever fingers, but it wasn't what you wanted. not for your first time together.

“gojo,” you panted, catching his wrist to still his movements. “i wan’ you inside . .”

his eyes widened with understanding and he swallowed audibly. “a-are you sure?” he asked hoarsely even as his hips twitched up against yours eagerly.

“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” you said fiercely, holding his gaze so he could read the sincerity there. “i wan’ you, all of you. please.”

he nodded jerkily. “i want you too,” he said, voice low and intent. "so much, you have no idea.”

then he was kissing you again, hot and urgent, his tongue delving deep as large hands palmed your ass, rocking you against his straining erection. you moaned into his mouth, already imagining how he would feel inside you, stretching and filling you so perfectly.

together, you managed to wrestle him out of his jeans and underwear, your focus narrowing to the breathtaking sight of him laid bare beneath you. all long limbs and lean muscle, skin flushed with arousal, cock thick and hard against his taut stomach. he was beautiful, exquisite, unreal.

“let me . . .” you murmured almost to yourself as you shifted down his body, wanting to taste, to tease. but he caught your shoulders, stopping you.

“next time,” he said with a slightly shy smile at odds with the high color in his cheeks, the stark arousal in his gaze. “i don’t think i’d last right now and i really, really want to be inside you when i cum. if-if that’s okay.”

oh, that was more than okay. it was basically the hottest thing you'd ever heard. “definitely okay,”you confirmed a little breathlessly, reaching for the condom you’d stashed optimistically in your nightstand.

with trembling hands, you opened the packet and rolled the latex down his rigid length. he twitched in your grip when you gave him a few strokes, thumb swirling through the bead of moisture at his tip. “fuck,” he choked out, head tipping back. “you gotta stop or i'll . .”

“i know, baby. i know,” you soothed, moving to straddle his hips once more. your eyes locked as you notched him at your entrance, his hands coming up to grip your hips almost hard enough to bruise. “ready?” at his jerky nod, you sank down slowly, taking him inch by careful inch. he stretched you exquisitely, walls fluttering to accommodate his girth. when your hips met his, you were both panting, pulses racing, skin flushed with pleasure-pain.

“god,” he choked out after a long moment, sounding absolutely wrecked. “you feel incredible. so fucking tight.”

you clenched around him experimentally, walls hugging him ever so sweetly, and he bucked up into you with a low groan. “gojo,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “you’re so deep, so big . .”

“am i hurting you?” he asked, brow creased with concern even as he visibly struggled to keep still.

“n-no,” you assured him. “no s’ perfect, you feel fucking perfect. jus’ . . go slow. lemme’ adjust.”

he did, rocking into you with shallow little thrusts that gradually deepened as you relaxed around him. soon you were moving together, finding a rhythm, the drag of him in and out sparking pleasure along every nerve ending. you leaned down to kiss him messily, all tongue and panted breaths as your hips rolled and ground in tandem.

“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted between kisses, hands roaming restlessly over your back, your breasts, your ass. “wanted you. still can’t believe this is real.”

“s’ real,” you promised breathlessly, rising and falling faster on his cock as the tension coiled tighter in your core. “i’m real and i’m yours, gojo, all yours . .”

he made a rough sound, fingers digging into your hips as he started thrusting up harder, hitting that perfect spot inside you on every stroke. “mine,” he agreed, voice gravelly and low, sending shivers down your spine. “my [★], fuck, you’re absolutely perfect . .”

you could only moan in response, lost to the sensation of him moving inside you, hitting you so deep, stoking the fire in your belly to an inferno. your thighs burned, sweat blooming on your skin as you chased your peak, so close, almost . .

gojo was close too, you could tell by the telltale twitch and throb of him inside you, his thrusts going erratic. “m’ gonna’ cum,” he warned hoarsely, fingers scrabbling at your hips. “m’ gonna’ cum, m’ gonna’ cum . . i-i can’t h-hold —”

“yes - yes, yes, yes,” you gasped, grinding down hard, fingers flying over your clit. “cum in me satoru, wanna feel you, baby . .”

his hands grip your ass cheeks, spreading them apart before giving you two more sharp thrusts, leaving him cumming with a guttural moan of your name, pulsing hot inside you as you clenched and rippled around him. the feeling of him throbbing and spilling in you was enough to tip you over the edge, a cry tearing from your throat as you shattered around him, cumming so hard you saw white.

you collapsed onto his chest as aftershocks rolled through you, his hips still rocking shallowly into yours, drawing out your mutual pleasure. for a minute, you just panted together, sweat cooling on your skin, pulses calming. you felt him soften up and slip out of you and winced a little at the loss, a tender ache between your thighs. you’d have beard burn too, you just knew it. but it had been more than worth it.

satoru’s hands continued to stroke your back, your hair, as if he was reluctant to let go. you felt the same, luxuriating in his warmth, his scent, the sound of his heartbeat thumping steadily beneath your ear. you never wanted to move.

eventually though, he shifted beneath you and you lifted your head to find him gazing at you with soft, wondering eyes. “hey,” he said quietly, brushing your now-wild hair back from your face. “so, are we like, y’know . .”

“dating?” you finished, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “yes, but only if you want that.”

his answering smile was like the sun coming out. “y-yeah, yeah. i want that. i’ve always wanted that.” he leaned up to kiss you slow and deep, tongue delving languorously into your mouth. “thank you. for showing me. for everything.”

“right back at you,” you murmured against his lips, heart so full it felt like it might burst. “m’ glad i got the chance.”

“me too.” he nuzzled his nose against yours sweetly. “so . . whaddo’ you wanna’ do now?”

you pulled back slightly to search his face, seeing both hope and trepidation there. “well, i was thinking . . maybe we could cuddle for a lil’ while longer. then, i dunno’, raid the flooded kitchen for snacks. come back up here n’ skip the party . . we could watch a movie? kinda jus’ . . see where it goes.”

relief and happiness shone from his eyes. “i’d really like that. a lot.”

“good.” you pecked his lips once more before settling back onto his chest, ear pressed over his heart. “s’ a date then.” you knew you’d have to leave this little bubble eventually, face the real world and whatever challenges it might bring. but right now, you didn’t care about any of that. right now, you had gojo, warm and solid beneath you, his fingers laced gently through your hair as exhaustion started to pull you under. you had this perfect moment, and the promise of more to come.

as you drifted off, lulled by his heartbeat and even breathing, a small smirk played about your lips.

damn, guess the rumors were true.

nerds really did just do it better.

★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent.

[liketolaugh-writes]

Bruce looking past the fact that (recently adopted) Danny is a powerhouse and recognizing that he has other skills also. <3

Danny is a STEM kid and just as brilliant as his sister, you cannot convince me otherwise

Danny gave Bruce the handwritten list of powers in the morning. Bruce stared at it over his cup of coffee, then gave Danny a flat, somewhat disbelieving look. Danny shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” he said, perching on one of the stools. “I can point out the ones I don’t use if you just want to work on the ones I do. At least I have an idea of what needs improving with those.” Alfred gave him a cup of coffee and a plate of bacon and French toast, and Danny smiled at him. “Thanks, Alfred.”

“We’ll have to prioritize your training,” Bruce allowed after a moment, frowning down at the paper. Dick leaned over to look and whistled. “But all of these will be addressed eventually. You should have at least a moderate grasp of every tool at your disposal.” He looked up. “You intended to work in the lab today, correct?”

Danny nodded, playing with a strip of bacon. “I’ll probably spend most of today making a big batch of phaseproof coating,” he said. “Then I can experiment with mixing it with paint and maybe coat some of your spare weapons in it? That should work for the bo staff and escrima sticks, maybe a set of brass knuckles. But I’ll need to make a different solution for the edged weapons.” His mind wandered, thinking of how he could adapt what he knew of the Bats’ gear to work against ghosts.

“Who’re the brass knuckles for?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Danny. Danny flushed and shrugged.

“Batman,” he said. “You don’t really use a weapon, right?” Bruce grunted. “But phaseproof cloth isn’t something my parents ever really figured out. I can work on it, maybe, but I thought brass knuckles would be an okay compromise for now.”

“Hn.”

“Good thinking,” Dick praised with a smile. “It’ll be easy to add to the utility belt too. Should we ghostproof my main set or a spare?”

“The main, I think, if you’re okay with it,” Danny said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You probably won’t even notice. But the edged weapons should all be spares. Ecto-treated metal tends to glow.”

“Not great for stealth,” Dick nodded. “Whatever you think is best, baby spook. We have the resources.”

“You’re hyper-specialized,” Bruce noted without inflection, sipping from his coffee. Danny winced.

“Sorry,” he muttered. It was easy to forget that all this was pretty useless outside of Amity Park. Bruce shook his head.

“It’s not a problem. But we’ll need to diversify your skillset. Your talent for chemistry and engineering should expand beyond ectoscience alone.” He studied Danny contemplatively. “Higher education might be beneficial, perhaps a PhD.”

Danny’s eyes went wide. “What? I’m barely passing high school!”

“I had Casper High send over your transcripts,” Bruce said. Danny flinched. “You had a B+ average in middle school, with a particular bent for math and science. You also participated in several advanced extracurriculars, including a junior astronaut program, space camp, and competitive robotics. Further, you clearly have a comprehensive understanding of your parents’ work, which eludes both the Justice League engineers and JL Dark. You had these talents prior to acquiring your powers, and it would be a waste to discard them in favor of your raw combat ability.”

Danny stared at Bruce, open-mouthed and speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d considered even the possibility that he could have a future outside of his hero career.

“…Do you think I could do that and be a superhero?” he managed after a minute, quieter than he’d meant to.

Bruce nodded sharply. “Most Justice League heroes maintain a career outside of heroics,” he reminded Danny, without even sounding like he thought Danny was an idiot for asking. “Aside from myself, there is also a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist, a museum curator, a forensic scientist, and a fighter pilot.”

Danny had known that on some level, but it had always seemed unreal. Practically a myth. “When am I going back to school?” he asked, hardly able to believe that he was suddenly looking forward to it.

“At the beginning of next semester,” Bruce said. “Your parents’ trial should be completed by then. I assume you don’t want to be announced publicly until that happens.” Danny shook his head fervently. “You may need to complete some make-up classes online, but we can discuss that next week.”

“Thanks,” Danny said sincerely. He was talking about a lot more than his re-enrollment.

[autonomousroboticorganism]

you hide attempt to hide an injury from them (TF Prime)

featuring - Optimus Prime x F!Reader, Bumblebee x F!Reader, Smokescreen x F!Reader, Knock Out x F!Reader, Wheeljack x F!Reader, Soundwave x F!Reader, Shockwave x F!Reader

summary - you play soccer and get injured, then try your best to play it off (Autobots), you get hurt on the Nemesis and try to play it off (Decepticons)

warnings - none

a/n - writing this the night before an extremely important soccer tournament my team is in, this tournament decides whether or not we go to the second highest woman's league in our country. in case anyone was wondering, one of my teammates did break her arm during one game so it's possible.

OPTIMUS PRIME - broken arm

You don't know how it happened. One minute you're making a tackle, the next you're rolling around on the ground clutching your arm. Your scream of pain alerted the referee, who promptly stopped the game so you could be rushed to the hospital. However, not wanting your big robot lover to worry, you put on a long sleeve shirt at home before going to the base so you could pretend nothing was wrong.

"(Name), why is your one arm thicker than the other?" Miko asked you, tilting her head as her eyes settled on your limp limb.

"Uh, no reason," you lied, then sighed when she gave you a look. "Okay, I broke my arm in a friendly work soccer game today. I just don't want Optimus to know. You know how he worries."

"You do know broken arms take weeks to heal right?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "How are you going to hide it for so long?"

"Hide what for so long?" The leader of the Autobots asked as he came into the room, having heard your voice. "(Name), I was just leaving to come fetch you."

"Oh, no need," you smiled, "I called for a groundbridge."

Jack and Miko exchanged looks, but it wasn't that that alerted the Prime. His gaze fell upon your arm, and though he was no expert in human biology, he definitely knew that they were supposed to be the same size.

"What happened?" He asked, approaching the platform. "What is wrong with your arm?"

As Jack and Miko gave you 'I told you so' looks, you were forced to tell him the truth about your injury, "I had a friendly soccer match today at work, a game we like to play. And I, uh, broke my arm."

The bot's optics went wide when you said that, and he gently took your broken arm into one of his servos, "Were you not going to tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry," you told him. "You have enough to worry about already."

"I will always worry about you, regardless of what other problems I am facing," he scooped you up onto his servo entirely. "Please do not hesitate to tell me, so that I can assist you in any way you need."

You smiled softly, wrapping your good arm around his one digit in a half-hug, "Thank you, love. I'll try to be more careful next time."

The Prime nodded in agreement, then proceeded to carry you around the whole day and help you with whatever you needed or wanted to do. He then let you rest on him, knowing hurt humans needed just as much downtime as hurt Autobots.

BUMBLEBEE - sprained ankle

"I can do this, I can do this..."

"Uh...(Name)?"

You glanced up at your fellow humans as they gaped at you. YOu were sure you had been doing your best to look like you were walking normally, but from the expressions on their faces you assumed you were doing a terrible job.

"What happened?"

"Nothing?" You tried with a nervous smile.

"Come on," Jack encouraged, "You're obviously limping."

You groaned, "Okay, my soccer game was a little rougher than expected. In a difficult tackle, I fell and my foot twisted awkwardly. I have a minor sprain, so I should be good in a few days."

"Do you plan to tell Bee?"

"No, he's only going to worry. Please don't tell him."

Plan Don't Tell Bumblebee fell on its face when the Autobot rolled up to the school to fetch you and Raf. Arcee and Bulkhead also came through, so Raf left you on your own and joined Miko in Bulkhead.

"Raf!" You protested.

"Sorry!" He apologised sheepishly. "I can't do it!"

Once you were sitting in the passenger seat of the scout, he beeped in concern asking what was wrong with your foot.

Your jaw dropped, "How did you-"

He responded with a few more beeps, saying that he wouldn't be a very good scout if he didn't pick up on cues or signs while observing something. You sighed and looked down.

"I...sprained my ankle. In a soccer match."

Worried beeps and whirrs followed that admission, and he started fussing over you and telling you rest when you got back to base. That he would do all your running around or get Jack or Miko to help. And that you were to see June immediately.

"Bee," you whined in complaint, "It's a minor sprain! It'll be healed in a few days, I have a good biokineticist."

He wasn't having any of that, insisting that you see June or you don't get kisses or cuddles from him. You gaped at the steering wheel.

"Bumblebee!" You gasped. "You wouldn't dare!"

He beeped, try me.

"That's so mean," you pouted. "But fine. Since my boyfriend wants to be a big bad bully."

He protested, making you laugh, but proceeded to ensure that you did what he asked at the base. And that you didn't have to walk on your foot any longer than necessary. Overkill for a baby sprain, but you didn't play with kisses and cuddles from the bot.

SMOKESCREEN - torn hamstring

It was extremely difficult to hide this one. When it happened, you screamed and cried like you'd been shot in the leg, because that's exactly what it felt like. Tearing your hamstring was no joke, it was a serious injury that really hampered your ability to walk.

"He's not going to like this," Arcee shifted her weight, uneasy.

"Please?" You begged. "He's going to scold me like I scold him."

"Well, he's not going to be back for a few hours, so maybe we can come up with a story?" Bulkhead suggested, while June was tending to your injury.

"Like what?"

"Hey guys, what are we talking about?" The bot in question popped up behind Bulkhead, but thankfully couldn't see.

"Uh, nothing!" The Wrecker steered him away. "Nurse Darby is just taking a look at Raf. He has a bad cold." Everyone stared at Bulkhead, but he pointed at a very proud-looking Miko.

"Wait, but let me greet (Name)," Smokescreen tried to push his way through. "She came just now, didn't she?"

"She's tired!" Arcee butted in, "Had a long day at university."

"Oh..." Smokescreen deflated. "Well then, tell her I hope she's not walking on that leg she injured." He said it so nonchalantly, you all had to do a double take.

"What?!"

"(Name)," your lover sighed, "I finished my mission early. Tailed you for most of the day. You don't think I would notice?"

You groaned, "It isn't what you think-"

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he bent down to look at you closer when the others finally parted to let him through. "My girlfriend is in pain, I want to help."

You smiled up at him, "You're so sweet, Smoke. Okay, I'll stay off this leg, Nurse Darby is giving me crutches anyway."

"Oh no, I'll carry you."

"Smoke...I have lectures..."

"You're not going."

"For weeks?"

"...Okay, just for the rest of this week," he suggested. "I want to spend time with my physically impaired girlfriend."

"Hey!" You protested. "Who taught Smokescreen those words?!"

Smokescreen just laughed as he scooped you up, gently so as not to aggravate your injury, and held you close to his chassis. He observed your bruised, swollen leg, lips twisting into a frown at the sight. He didn't like seeing you hurt, especially if he couldn't have protected you from it.

"Come on you, we're going to rest and watch movies for the rest of the week." You tried to protest, but he was having none of it.

He took you to his berthroom and lay you down in a comfortable position, making sure to elevate your leg so that you could rest comfortably.

KNOCK OUT - torn MCL (a knee ligament)

The moment your cry of pain echoed through the hallways of the Nemesis, every vehicon in the vicinity froze up. The mad doctor was sure to hear of this, and they could do nothing to stop the wrath he would no doubt inflict on them for this. They hadn't mean to hurt you, but they had also been a bit rougher than they were supposed to and this fact scared them.

"Please don't tell him," one of them pleaded with you.

"Fine, but one of you needs to carry me to his lab because I'm pretty sure I hurt my knee."

You had befriended some of them, others weren't keen on you, but you knew that these ones were being honest. Decepticons in general didn't know how to handle human beings, so it came as no surprise to you that you got hurt.

But Knock Out would strap them to his lab table and open them up if he found out, so you agreed to try and keep it a secret.

The vehicon carrying you lay you down on your boyfriend's tool table, before quickly scurrying out of the room. You watched Knock Out tend to a comatose Megatron, unsure if he had even heard you come in.

"What was that about?" He asked, confirming that he had.

"Oh, uh, nothing," you dismissed it, "I just got too tired to walk back, so I asked one of the vehicons to carry me back."

This got the mad doctor's attention, "What?" His optics zeroed in on you sitting on the table, and he instantly grew suspicious. You were normally active. "Where is your pain?"

"That's so unfair!" You crossed your arms. "You know me too well."

"I'm your boyfriend, darling," he smirked, "I should. Now tell me what those idiots did to you before I go ask them myself."

"We were just playing," you assured him, "I fell, tried to land on my feet and overextended my leg. I heard a pop in my knee, and then felt excruciating pain. Now it feels like my bones are knocking around if I try to walk."

"..." The medic was not amused. "When were you planning to tell me?"

"Uh..."

"You do realise they could have hurt you worse, or even..." He shut his optics and sighed, "Never mind. Let me see." He abandoned Megatron to come look at you, using a tool to scan your knee. "Hmmm, a ligament tear. Not a very serious one, but you'll still be on bedrest for six weeks."

"What?!"

"That's what you get for playing rough, my dear. Now come here, let me distract you from the pain."

His distraction in question was a kiss, before he researched what to do with your injury and got the necessary items to strap you up and brace your knee to stabilise it.

"No strenuous activity for six weeks, other than walking. Even then, keep it short and only when necessary."

"...Fine, Doc Knock."

"Don't call me that!"

WHEELJACK - shin splints

This one didn't kick in until a day after you'd played the game. You'd been teaching Wheeljack and Bulkhead how to play the human sport, and forgotten to properly stretch beforehand. You'd also forgotten that you hadn't played in months. So your shins were strained from overuse after months of inactivity, leaving an incredibly painful burning sensation the next day.

You tried to walk into base looking like you were fine, but your pained expression attracted attention from Bumblebee, who beeped in worry.

"Don't worry Bee, I'm fine," you smiled, but it was a tight one.

Wheeljack and Bulkhead returned from scouting an Energon mine a few moments later, the former immediately picking you up and placing you on his shoulder, missing the pain etched on your face.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" He asked you. "Got into any trouble?"

"No," you admitted, trying to sound upset about it. You also tried to appear nonchalant on his shoulder pad, but that was doing too much and ultimately outed you.

"And what might be the problem with you?" He turned his helm to study your figure. "What's hurting?"

"You don't miss a beat, do you?" You sighed.

"Not when it comes to my only reason for staying on this rock," he smirked, then held you up in his servo to be eye-level with him. "Now tell me, what happened?"

You sighed, "I kind of picked up an old injury after our session yesterday. Just shin splints, nothing serious. They're painful, but minor. They'll go away soon, they always do."

"Anything I can do to help?" He offered.

"Just maybe ask Nurse Darby for some ice, please?"

"You got it."

He set you down on the couch by the TV in the base, then went off to find June, or even Jack. He returned a few minutes later with an ice pack in his servo, and scooped you up again.

"I can press it to my shin myself, you know!" Your cheeks burned, getting flustered.

"Maybe I want to do it for you," he argued.

Your eyes went wide, and you grew even more flustered. An uncontrollable smile formed on your lips, and you lay back on his servo as he pressed the tiny bag to your shin.

"And don't hide any injury from me again, sweetheart."

SOUNDWAVE - concussion

This one was completely by accident and totally embarrassing. You were trying to find your own way up onto his berth, not wanting to bother him by calling for help. But you had made it only a few feet up the side before your foot slipped, and you fell. Your head hit the ground a little too hard, and your vision blurred for a moment. You groaned as you pushed yourself up, but your head began to throb uncontrollably.

"That's just great," you mumbled, rubbing your temples. But when you tried to stand up, you swayed on your feet and stumbled forward, unable to stay balanced. "Concussion, nice."

The Decepticon chose that moment to enter his berthroom, his helm tilting down slightly as he observed you for a moment. He already knew what had happened, he was the eyes and ears of the cons after all, so there was no point trying to hide it.

"I'm fine, Soundwave," you tried reassuring him, but you couldn't even walk to him in a straight line. "Okay, I'll BE fine soon."

He was having none of it, picking you up gently and laying you on his berth. His screen lit up with a question mark, a silent plea to tell him why you hadn't asked him for help.

"I didn't want to bother you," you admitted, casting your gaze to the floor. "You're busy with important stuff."

He bent down in front of you, pointing at you and displaying a red heart on his visor. Meaning - you were important to him too, and he cared about your wellbeing. Then he displayed another screen, which showed tutorials on how to ask for help.

"Ha, ha. So funny," you replied dryly. "But I'm sorry, I just wanted to try and not be useless or helpless for once."

He shook his head, denying that you were any of those. Then he put his visor close to your face, and typed one word onto it: Rest. He wanted you to relax, because you had sustained a concussion.

"Alright, alright," you gave in, laying back down on his berth. You smiled, feeling warm inside at his attempts to take care of you.

And he did so quite well for a Cybertronian accused of having no feeling or emotion. He made sure to get you painkillers and water, an ice pack, and your favourite snacks. How he got them, you didn't want to know. You were just grateful for the love he was showering you with.

SHOCKWAVE - broken nose

Shockwave wasn't in the lab for once, having been ordered by Megatron to go and retrieve more predacon remains. Starscream stormed in, absolutely furious with the Decepticon scientist, and when his optics landed on you he knew the perfect way to get back at Shockwave. Which was why you now lay on the ground, listening to Starscream's laughter fade as he left, tears streaming down your face with blood streaming out of your nose. It was broken, that much you knew, but you were in too much pain to get up.

But when you heard Shockwave's familiar heavy footsteps and his voice briefing Megatron outside, you quickly sat up and wiped your blood off the floor with your shirt, then ripped a piece off and tried to stop the bleeding. You turned away from the door, hoping Megatron and Shockwave wouldn't see you.

"(Name), is everything alright?"

You nodded, "Yes, I'm okay Shockwave. Don't worry."

"So that's what Starscream was so happy about," Megatron mused. "Tend to your pet, Shockwave, and then brief me on your latest developments." With that, he left the room.

"(Name), what happened?" Shockwave asked, picking you up off the floor. "Why is there blood on your clothes and a piece of your t-shirt in your nose?"

You sighed and pulled the reddened material out, allowing blood to gush out once more as you teared up, "Starscream." Your bottom lip trembled, and the pained expression on your face told Shockwave enough, as did the sight of your misshapen nose.

"I will tend to your wounds," your boyfriend began, "And then I will see to it that Starscream be punished for this inexcusable and cowardly act."

"Thank you," you responded quietly.

He helped stop your bleeding, and bandaged your nose. Then he made sure the rest of your body was fine, before he set you down on his table.

"Wait for me here, I shall return to give you physical affection after Starscream has been dealt with."

You smiled at him and nodded, warmth filling you at how much he cared about you and how much he was willing to do for you. You relaxed in the lab while he went to deal with Starscream, and when he returned he delivered the affection he promised. Which was mostly cradling you in his servo or letting you curl up against his neck cables. Nonetheless, you were happy and soon fell asleep as the pain medication kicked in.

[acid-ixx]

"hostage situation"

series masterlist

nightwing, to his siblings: okay, so we have to be real careful because the joker and harley quinn are holding our baby sibling hostage and we can't put them in anymore danger.

nightwing, looks at red robin: i'm sure they have some traps laid around the lair so you'll be disarming it.

red robin, nods:

robin: then me and todd will be handling any spare targets, no?

nightwing: of course. cass, steph and duke will be guarding the entrance. babs?

oracle, speaking in the intercoms: this is the closest point of entry where (name) is being kept hostage.

red robin: security cams suggest there's more than just harley and the joker in the lair. a bunch of their goons are heavily guarding both the entrance and the exit. we should thread carefully.

oracle: there's no camera's where (name) is exactly at, but there's a specific room where it's shown that the two are often visiting.

batman, who had been lurking behind them: this is a priority mission. we can't afford to make mistakes.

robin, eyebrows raised: though, is it necessary to bring the entire family? me and my father could handle this entirely by ourselves.

jason, sighs: don't pretend like you weren't the first to suggest the entire justice league to come searching for them, kid.

batman: enough arguing, (name) needs all the support they could get after this. so on my count, we are to bust open the door.

dick: alright, everybody, prepare.

*meanwhile, inside the lair, in a makeshift "house"*

(name), sitting on a comfy chair whilst holding a cup of hot chocolate and a book in the other, sneezes: oh— did anyone mention my name?

harley quinn, already on her way to wipe their nose: oh my baby! is our baby sick?!

(name): no, i just suddenly sneezed?

the joker, in another room: i spy with my little eye, a child way past their bedtime~ c'mon babyboo, let's get you to bed!

(name): awe, but it's like, 10pm. i wanna read some more.

harley, about to pick (name) up: then let momma read the book for you in bed, cutesy pie—

*the door to the kitchen slams open*

dick, with his escrima sticks on-hand: surrender (name) to us now or—!

dick, absolutely befuddled: wait, what?!

damian, with bruce in tow: what's the hold up, nightwing?!

damian, about to jump right in front of dick before he was stopped by bruce's hand on his shoulder: what is... this?

bruce: ... explain the meaning of this, harley.

harley, holds (name) closer to her chest as she's equally confused: what do ya mean, bats? ain't it obvious i'm taking care of my child?

(name): uhm...

damian, visibly offended: what do you mean, your child? (name) over there is ours.

the joker, walks over to the room in a hurry: what's with all the commotion over here?! (name) is supposed to be in bed, harle— batman?!

bruce, with squinted eyes: don't act stupid, what is this all about?

nightwing, surveying the room: wait, why is (name) in pajamas?

(name), trying their best to shrug in harley's tight hug: i'm... supposed to go to bed...?

the joker, about to walk over to (name) before he's stopped by a batarang almost hitting the side of his head: hey! what's that for? i'm clearly not trying to attack my own child!

bruce: (name) is my child, not yours.

the joker, glaring at batman: well, it's not my fault they choose me over you!

(name) wayne, interrupting the two: uhm... i did technically disown myself from the family so—

damian: disown yourself?

(name): i have every reason to—

dick: look, baby bird, you don't know what's right for you, these guys are dangerous—

(name): i literally got nearly killed by some nobody criminals if not for harley saving me but okay, nightwing.

bruce, whose attention is now on (name): you almost got what now?

(name), rolling their eyes: i almost died, batman. now if you excuse me, i think i deserve a good night sleep tonight.

(name), looks at harley who still hasn't released them from the protective hug: can we?

harley quinn, facepalming in her mind as she stares back at (name): oh, i should've bought you to pam and selina instead.