#just a but scraped up from the last shoot out they’re fine

[newtsnaturethings]

bathroom surgery

[callme-holly]

hey! i love your johnny cade fics <3 if you’re still taking requests and you like the idea could you write one where reader is part of the group but is sneaking around with johnny, keeping their new relationship from the gang, but there’s really cute secret smiles/touches/hand holding 🥹 and then maybe one of them is just like, you two really are not subtle, we know about it (i feel like this would be dally😅) thank you 🫶🏼 ps sorry if too specific

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐍𝐨 𝐎𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 [𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I'm so sorry for how long this took me to write I had a huge drama exam and things were crazy but I'm back now!! This was super fun to write so I hope ya'll enjoy this and, as always, my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 2.5k words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing !!

0.1 - ‘hey, was that Johnny?’

It’s early evening by the time the gang reach The Nightly Double, with the sun sinking low over the horizon and casting long shadows onto the sidewalk. It’s the first time in a while they've all been able to do something together, something outside of work, or school, or fighting, and most are glad for it. So glad in fact that they hardly noticed they’re two members short.

—

“You want me to get you somethin’?” Johnny mumbles, squeezing your hand gently as you both wander past the concession stand, searching for some seats tucked a little further back and away from prying eyes. 

You hum and glance over to the stand. The line for snacks and drinks isn’t too long; there are only a few people waiting ahead, but you have no doubt that it will be much longer a little later on when the cars of socs start to roll in. 

“Sure, if you don’t mind…” You murmur, turning your attention back to Johnny as he leads you  through the small crowd of people, pausing once you both reach the end of the queue. He shoots you a soft, crooked grin before dropping his head a little to press a quick kiss to your lips. 

“What’d you want?” He asks after he pulls back, and you can’t help but smile warmly, leaning a little into his side as you get closer to the counter. 

“Just a pepsi will do me.” You reply lightly, and he gives a short nod, reaching into his pocket to scrape together enough cash for the drink. 

Noticing this, you frown just a bit, and grab at his forearm to try and stop him. 

“Johnny, I didn't think you meant you'd pay–”

He turns those beautiful, dark eyes back to yours and shakes his head, giving a small shrug. “It's no big deal.” 

“But–” 

“No, really,” He insists quietly as you both reach the counter. “I’ve got it.” 

There’s really no arguing with him, and so, with one last lingering look, you release his arm and watch with a sigh as he orders your drinks and slides the change across the counter. You purse your lips for a moment, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder.

“You didn’t have to do that. I’ve got the money, you know.” 

Johnny only hums in response, pressing a quick kiss to your hair. “It’s fine. I wanted to.” 

He hands you your pepsi, taking your hand in his as you both turn, about to return to your hunt for seats once more, when you notice an all-too-familiar group of greasers standing in line. 

You frown briefly before glancing up at Johnny, who follows your gaze, his eyes widening. 

“Shit…” He’s quick to drop your hand, turning so that his back is to the gang. You follow suit, tucking yourself into Johnny’s side as you both try to blend in with the passing wave of teens around you.

The two of you keep your heads down, keeping your pace as even as possible as you move past the group of boys, their laughter ringing out as they make small jabs at each other. They seem so caught up in whatever is going on around them that you and Johnny manage to slip away without being noticed. Or, at least, you think you do.

—

“Hey, Ponyboy, what the hell are you lookin’ at?” 

Two-bit slams a hand down on the boy’s shoulder, effectively drawing his attention away from the passing crowd and back to the rowdiness of the gang. By now, they have all stopped with their teasing, their eyes not-so-subtly scanning the swarms of people around them.  

Pony shakes his head, scuffing the toe of his shoe into the ground and shrugging. “Ain’t nothin’... Just thought I saw Johnny.” 

Dallas snorts. “Johnny?” He laughs a little incredulously. “The kid swore he ain't comin' out tonight. Said he was busy, man.”

“Well, maybe he lied.” 

Steve raises a brow. “Why would he lie? If he wanted to catch a movie, he would've tagged along with us.” 

Pony’s face twists, and he glances back once more before shaking his head. “Nah, you're right. Guess I'm just seeing stuff, huh?”

Darry places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “It’s all that smoke gettin' to your head.” He teases, and the boy rolls his eyes, shrugging off his brother. 

“Whatever.”

0.2 - ‘you guys are here alone?’  

The diner is packed full; groups of teens are huddled around tables and scattered throughout various booths, most either talking amongst themselves or causing nothing but trouble. 

You and Johnny are tucked away in a booth you had claimed at the very back, the two of you hunched over the tabletop, a plate of fries and two milkshakes sitting between you. Your hands are entwined, and Johnny’s thumb is stroking absently over your knuckles as he watches you talk. His dark eyes shine with nothing but affection, and he can't help but lean in to press a quick kiss to your lips. 

You pause, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you meet his eyes again. 

“What was that for?” 

Johnny shrugs, growing sheepish, as he takes a sip of his milkshake. 

“Just because.” He mumbles softly, looking away again; however, as he does so, he catches sight of something, or rather someone, out the window. “Uh oh…” 

You turn to follow his gaze and sigh inwardly as you see Soda and Steve coming through the doors to the diner, both boys sporting their DX uniforms as they scan the crowds for an empty table. You and Johnny sink low in your seats, doing your best to hide behind your discarded menus, but it's too late. 

“Johnnycake! Y/n!” Soda calls out with a grin and a wave, sauntering up to you and Johnny’s booth, Steve hot on his heels. They both sit themselves down, Steve stealing a couple of fries and shovelling them into his mouth as he does so, before shooting you a bright grin.

“Fancy seeing ya’ll here, huh?” He comments, reaching out to take a sip from your milkshake too, scowling as you slap his hand away. 

“Get your own shake.” You snap irritably, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Don’t you like the company we bring?” Soda grins good-naturedly, and Johnny meets your gaze across the table, offering a small apologetic smile. 

You let out a long breath, feeling annoyance and a little exasperation course through your veins, but you knew better than to send the two greasers on their way. It will only raise suspicion, and that’s the last thing you need right now. You and Johnny are keeping your relationship a secret for a reason, and knowing Steve and his big mouth, you can bet half the town would know by morning. 

You’re broken from your thoughts when Soda leans forward, resting one elbow atop the table, propping up his chin with his free hand.

“Say, where's Dallas? Ain't he with you?”

Johnny shakes his head. “Nah, he’s still sleepin’ off a hangover.”

Soda blinks and then frowns. He tilts his head. “Two-bit?” 

“He ain’t here either.” Johnny replies simply, glancing at you again just as Steve pipes up.

“So, what, you’re both here alone?” 

The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself flushing a little beneath their scrutiny. 

What are they getting at? 

“Well, yeah.” 

Soda and Steve stare at you for a moment, their gazes moving towards Johnny before returning to you once more. They share a knowing glance, and for one fleeting moment, you're afraid they've caught on—that they've finally put two and two together and realised exactly what has been going on between you and Johnny. But then, after another brief moment passes, both boys just shrug, and Steve goes to take another handful of fries, the conversation seemingly forgotten.

You meet Johnny's gaze from across the table once more, offering him a small smile as you both reach for your milkshakes, your fingers brushing lightly. 

Looks like you'll have to wait a little longer for some time alone. 

0.3 -  unwanted company… again

You and Johnny wander aimlessly, your arms linked loosely together as you both pass slowly through the streets. 

It’s quiet out and relatively deserted, only the occasional car trundling past in the opposite direction, headlights flickering against the pair of you as it goes. You cast a sidelong glance at Johnny as he continues to lead the way, his steps leisurely and relaxed. 

There's a light flush to his cheeks from the excessive summer air, his dark bangs falling in front of his eyes and sticking to his forehead. You want nothing more than to stop, to push back the strands, and you just can’t help yourself as you pause and tug him back, your lips brushing softly against his cheek. 

His eyes widen at your action, shooting you a shy smile as your fingers card through his hair, tucking it behind his ears as best you can.

“That's better,” you concede after a moment, pulling back to admire your handy work and smiling fondly when one stray strand falls back into his eyes.  

“Much better,” Johnny nods, linking your fingers together and leading you on once more. “C’mon, we got places to be.” 

That, of course, is a lie. You two aren't doing anything except wasting time, trying to make up for all the moments lost since the incident at the diner. The two of you have managed to avoid any questions from the gang, keeping your interactions limited to quick kisses when nobody is looking and soft smiles from across the room. That is, until today, of course.

Your fingers lace in a loose hold with Johnny’s, your hand fitting neatly into his, as the two of you walk along in silence. It had been tough getting away from the others, even if it was only for a few minutes, and it seemed that, no matter where you went, someone was always there to interrupt the two of you. You'd tried to sneak away to get some privacy, but each time you did, at least one of the guys seemed determined to tag along.

But this time you were lucky. It seemed as though you had managed to get away without anyone finding out and, for once, it was just you and Johnny. 

Or so you thought… 

“Hey!”  Someone shouts from behind you and, almost instinctively, you and Johnny jump apart, trying not to let your panic show as you turn around to see not only Two-bit, but Ponyboy too, running across the street to meet you guys. Johnny’s face drops and you let out a huff as Two slings an arm over your shoulders, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Say, Y/N, whatcha doing hanging out with someone like Johnnycake, huh?” He teases, causing the boy’s cheeks to flush  red.

“Shut up…” He mutters softly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Pony comes to stand beside him. “What do ya’ll want?” 

Two-bit cocks his brow, a devious smirk spreading across his lips. “Aw, c'mon, is our presence really that unappealing to you?”

Johnny narrows his eyes at his friend, glancing back at you to gauge your reaction. You shrug helplessly, unable to hide your slightly annoyed expression, as the two greasers begin to walk alongside you. 

Another date crashed spectacularly before it had even started… again… and another close call. 

0.4 - a ‘not-so-secret’ secret 

The gang is all gathered in the living room of the Curtis House, scattered about in various states of entertainment, talking amongst one another or watching whatever is playing on the TV. You're perched on the arm of the couch, trying your best to listen to whatever it is the pony is telling you; however, your gaze keeps occasionally drifting to the front door as you wait anxiously for Johnny to show up. 

It's almost seven thirty now, and already a million different thoughts are racing through your mind, ranging from ‘what if’s’ to 'maybe...', but eventually, your curiosity wins out and you can't help but ask.

“Where’s Johnny?” 

Pony pauses mid-story, turning slightly to look at you before casting you a confused glance.

“Huh?”

“I mean…” You wrack your brain for something else to say, a faint blush dusted across your cheeks and making your skin feel clammy. “He hasn't shown up yet, and normally he's one of the first to arrive. I just wondered where he was.” 

There's a small silence, and Ponyboy shrugs, glancing at the door himself, and then back at you. “Dunno. Maybe he couldn't make it. You know how tough things are for him.” 

You sigh softly, biting your bottom lip. A sudden fear grows within you as your mind fills with images of Johnny in various states of hurt or distress. You know, if he wasn't going to come tonight, he would have called at least to let you know. His absence doesn’t bode well. 

“Yeah,” You say quietly, shaking your head as you try to dispel the unpleasant thoughts, glancing around briefly as you realise that everyone has gone quiet at your mention of Johnny. “Yeah, maybe.” 

Pony nods, giving you a reassuring smile, and slowly everyone goes back to their previous tasks, but, despite yourself, the anxiety remains in the pit of your stomach. You keep glancing towards the hallway every few seconds, your heart beating rapidly in your chest and your palms beginning to sweat slightly. 

Your breath hitches at the sound of the screen door opening, your attention snapping to the doorway to find Johnny, his hair dishevelled and clothes rumpled, but otherwise appearing fine. He meets your gaze, and, in a flash, you are up, rushing to greet him. 

The gang all share knowing looks, exchanging amused glances between one another.

Things are really starting to add up… 

“Say, how come I didn’t get no greetin’ like that?” Two-bit feigns offence, placing his hand over his heart as you and Johnny part awkwardly. 

“Well,” You start, clearing your throat, before glancing at Johnny once more. “Um…” You trail off, realising that there's only one way to go with this.

So, taking a deep, steady breath, you step forward and grasp Johnny's hand in your own, squeezing tightly. He returns the gesture with equal intensity, his thumb caressing your knuckles gently.

“We're dating…”  You mumble, barely loud enough for anybody else to hear, although you could swear that the entire group freezes for a beat.

A beat that seems to last forever.

And then:

“We know.”

You turn to look at Dallas, who is lounging across the couch, his legs stretched out before him, a cigarette held loosely between his lips as he regards you calmly and nonchalantly.

“What do you mean you knew?” Johnny asks incredulously. The greaser waves his hand dismissively. 

“Ya’ll aren’t as subtle as you think.” He grins lazily, “Besides, I figured it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

You roll your eyes at Dallas, and instead of voicing a reply, you pull Johnny closer by the hand and lean up for a kiss, ignoring the cheers and shouts that erupt from around you.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[ficmashup]

Taken

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Nothing like a sprinkle of angst on Christmas Eve. ;) I will be doing a part two for this because I can't resist, but can't promise when I'll post it. Soon, I hope! Have a lovely holiday to everyone celebrating. :)

Warnings: SA mentions if you squint, crass language, death, stabbing, beating, shooting, torture, angst, trauma, overall I just decided to stab the characters in the feels. Just a bit. Happy ending though, imo.

Word Count: 4.7k

Masterlist

It’s not expected, but then again, these things never are.

What kills me the most is that Ghost had to be there, had to see it. I’d rather it had been anyone else just so I could spare him the pain of reopening old wounds. We’d been clearing a warehouse and stumbled upon more than we’d expected. We both realize our mistake at different times and I have a split-second decision to make. I’m ahead of Ghost by a dozen or so feet and hidden behind a pile of crates, so I see the group first.

There’s no time to warn Ghost and if he comes forward, he’ll be shot on sight. So I step forward first. I take out those closest to his entry point and my focus on keeping him safe leaves me vulnerable. Ghost moves in just as I’m grabbed from behind and I ram the butt of my gun backward into my captor’s ribs. There’s a grunt, but he doesn’t let go and I drop my gun to hang from my chest in exchange for the long knife on my thigh. I plunge the blade into his thigh and hear a string of curses spat into my ear as their grip only tightens on me.

I fail to realize that during the struggle, they’ve managed to drag me backward towards a side door. My last view as I twist the knife is Ghost’s wide eyes behind the mask before my head is slammed against the wall and all goes dark.

*     *     *

I wake up tied to a chair. I keep utterly still and take stock of my body. My head is heavy and I feel the tightness of the skin on the right side of my face from where blood has dried. There’s a sharp sting coming from across my collar bone and my right ankle twinges. A sprained ankle and a scrape, I’d guess. Possibly a concussion. Nothing too bad. My wrists and ankles are tied to the arms and legs of a chair and the rope chafes, but the ties are sloppy. Keeping me here like this was unexpected, then. An opportunity that they couldn’t pass up.

I keep my breathing steady and my head bowed with my eyes shut. All I do for a few moments is listen. There’s shuffling and voices, but they’re muffled and seem to be coming from a nearby room. Multiple people, but more than likely less than a dozen. I take a chance and open my eyes, looking up and finding the space dim and empty. It looks like a shack barely held together by the sand and dirt covering the floor.

“Awake.” A voice with a rough accent comes from behind me and my spine stiffens as he moves in front of me. He’s limping slightly and I get a brief moment of satisfaction at knowing this is the man who grabbed me and I clearly dealt some serious damage. With the dried blood on my face and him being able to walk after clear medical assistance, I’d say I’ve been gone a few hours. The fact makes what’s left in my stomach curdle.

The man says a few words that I don’t understand, then one that I do. “…bitch.”

I chuckle softly. “Unoriginal.” His fist darts out and the hit is harder than I expect. It leaves me dizzy as the weak chair rocks with the impact. Stays on all fours, though. The man grunts and spits at my feet before walking to the door, apparently satisfied with his revenge. He opens the door and shouts something down the hall before looking at me with ill intent in his eyes. I shift a bit in my chair, noting that they’ve removed my uniform and boots. I’m only in tight shorts and my tank top. It’s going to be torture then. Fine. I’ve already been through hell and lived through it, fashioned myself teeth from the mouths of my demons I killed, I can take whatever poor imitation these amateurs try.

Three more men come in and one steps in front of the others. “Why you here?” He asks in broken English.

“To kill people like you.” I answer simply, staring unblinkingly at him.

He gives me a smile. “Coincidence. That is why we here as well. To kill people like you.” It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. That’s the base of every conflict in the history of the world. He pulls his handgun and aims it at my forehead while I go completely still. “Tell me more.”

*     *     *

Hours pass. The torture is easy enough to sit through, nothing unexpected, nothing skilled, nothing I haven’t been trained for. The true killer is waiting with my own thoughts. Like thinking that they aren’t coming for me. Stupid. Utterly stupid. Yet the persistent feeling of being unworthy lingers in my chest. And I know that the longer I’m here, the more nagging those thoughts will be.

They can finally be rid of you, no trouble, no hassle, just a lost soldier, happens all the time.

I gasp as a soldier lands a particularly well-aimed punch to my gut and the chair finally falls over. I feel the arm crack at the impact while the group laughs, but the ropes around my right wrist and ankle are now free. My fingers slowly curl around the splintered piece of wood hidden under my body. One of the men waves his hand and another steps forward and yanks the chair back up. I use the momentum of the sudden movement to plunge the long piece of wood into his throat and get my free leg up under me to keep me from toppling over.

The man’s eyes go wide as he chokes on his own blood and everyone else in the room is frozen with shock. I take advantage of that and take the gun in the man’s thigh holster and manage to shoot two men before they draw their guns and one more before they manage to shoot. I use the body of the man I stabbed as cover, but I can barely hold him up. I grunt under the impact of a bullet hitting his dead weight and feel another bullet graze my shoulder before the door straight across from me bursts open. I take advantage of the distraction and shoot one more while the other gets a bullet between the eyes from the intruder’s gun.

I turn on instinct and level my gun at the intruders, stopping my finger just in time when I see the distinct, pale skull mask. “Fuck.” I lower the gun and let the body drop to the floor as Ghost pushes in, but I don’t miss the way he looks me over.

His hand grabs his radio before anything. “Clear, I’ve got the package.” He slings his gun over his back as he reaches me and I don’t realize that I’m trembling until he guides my hand to his shoulder to keep me upright as he unties my other wrist and ankle. My fingers cling to his tac vest like a lifeline.

“Confirmed. If package is secure, move out.” Price’s voice comes over the radio and my heart squeezes at the sound of his voice. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and my hand still holding the gun twitches before I recognize Soap moving into the doorway to watch our backs.

“Clear, LT.” He reports before looking me over with wide eyes. I must really look like shit then.

“Affirmative.” Ghost responds over the radio with a wave back at Soap to tell him the same. “How bad, G?” He asks gruffly once the flimsy chair falls to the floor behind me and he stands up, keeping his forearms within my reach so I can use him to stand. His fingers graze my arms too, not gripping or grabbing, simply guiding.

My head shakes as I stare at him. “Not bad. Nothing broken.”

He nods in return and pulls out my uniform shirt and pants that he must have collected from the other room. My boots too. “Then let’s go. Can you walk?” I take my clothes gratefully and he keeps to my side while I slide the top on with only a slight wince as the fabric slides over the open wounds covering me. The pants are a little more difficult, but I manage before nodding to Ghost that I’m ready. He wraps an arm around my waist and I lower his hand to my hip as my ribs ache with protest. He corrects his grip and we limp out with Soap leading, gun up.

A few more bodies litter the narrow hall and the room beyond, but the true relief is when we walk outside and I can see the stars. I hadn’t realized how stale the air was in that shack and how the metallic smell of blood had stained my nostrils. I gulp down the cool air before I press my lips together as I hold in a laugh. My shoulders start shaking and Ghost’s pace falters before I shake my head. “It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just the shock and exhaustion.” Laughter taints every word and I swear Ghost’s eyebrows furrow with concern before we keep moving.

“You get scarier all the time, G.” Soap comments ahead and I can’t hold back a low laugh even as I shake my head at myself.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.” I breathe as the giggles make every word waver.

Ghost’s grip tightens as we carefully scale down the side of the rocky hill. “Not sure what you’re apologizin’ for. You fuckin’ got taken watching my ass and I’d rather have you laughin’ than anything else.”

My head shakes, the laughter fading as I struggle to keep my feet moving while my body starts to shut down. “I’m sorry for thinking you wouldn’t come for me.” Ghost comes to a full stop now as I look between the men and Soap has shock scrawled over his face.

“Course we did, lass. The hell you talkin’ bout?” Soap’s accent gets a little thicker, betraying how deep my words hit.

Ghost starts to move again and I stumble after him even though he’s practically carrying me on his hip. “Keep movin’.” He grumbles and regret lingers in my chest as we fall silent the rest of the way. At the bottom of the rocky path sits a car and my heart beats a little faster at seeing the two figures waiting there for us. Ghost picks me up and carries me the rest of the way before immediately handing me to Price once we’re close enough. He holds me close and tight for far too brief a moment before sitting me on the hood of the car. The moonlight is just bright enough to make out each other’s features and I can’t get enough of his eyes, even with the worry filling them.

“You broken?” He asks quietly and I can hear how the words drag and crackle on the way out of his chest. His hand perches on the side of my neck, his thumb brushing lightly over my pulse point to feel my heart beating.

I give him a weak smile. “Just a bit chipped. Nothing permanent.” I promise and it’s a gift to see a little tension leave his shoulders. “But I’ve lost a lot of blood. I need to be kept conscious as we head back.”

“Still the medic, hm?” He teases dryly but the attempt at humor soothes me more than anything else. “Gaz, let’s go. Fast and steady.” Price pushes the keys into Gaz’s hands as he passes by with a wink, pushing something small that crinkles in my hand. A real smile tugs on my lips. A candy. We pile in the car and it’s a surprise to find myself pressed tight between Ghost and Price with Gaz driving and Soap in the passenger seat. It’s as if everyone traded seats.

“Did…did either of you grab my med kit?” I ask as my head gets a bit dizzy and I pop the hard candy Gaz gave me into my mouth. Soap turns in his seat with a half-grin, holding up my kit. My hands reach for it, but Ghost intercepts and pulls it into his lap.

“What d’ya need?” He asks as he opens it and looks over the contents.

I shift the candy into my cheek. “Bandages. My ankle’s fucked. Need to wrap it at least.” Ghost glances at Price and they instantly come to a nonverbal agreement as John shifts me closer to him while Simon gingerly lifts my foot into his lap. I frown. “I can do it—”

“Let him. That’s an order.” John’s voice in my ear and the command in it has my body stiffening for a moment, then laxing a moment after. My back is pressed against John’s chest with his arm thrown across my middle, his hand heavy on my hip to use it as a steadying point rather than put any pressure on my ribs. He must’ve noticed how Ghost was holding me earlier. Doesn’t miss a thing, my Captain.

Ghost eases my boot off and my hands clench at the pain, but he’s careful and the steady ache of the rest of my body makes it easy enough to sit through. Once my sock is off too, he takes out a small flashlight and I grimace as the light illuminates just how bad my ankle looks. It’s red and swollen from all the activity I forced it through after the sprain. Ghost starts wrapping and I nod when he looks at me to make sure he’s doing it correctly.

When he’s finished and I’m satisfied, I move to pull my foot away, but he keeps a firm hold on it. He gives me a deadpan look. “Keep it elevated.”

I give him a look back that I’m sure is a bit lackluster given my current condition. “It’s supposed to be elevated above my heart, but that’s not happening in the car.”

“Better this than nothing.” Ghost responds without a second of hesitation and his eyes don’t budge from mine. My mouth opens again, then shuts when Price gives my hip a soft squeeze. My lips purse, but I don’t say another word as I relax into John and try to keep my eyes open. I rest my hand on John’s knee and my thumb slides back and forth as I breathe in his scent.

“Give me a list of injuries.” He says and I nod, fighting through the fog of my mind to think clearly.

“Uh, sprained ankle, head wound, possible concussion, multiple lacerations, bruised ribs on my right side, a bullet graze to my left shoulder, and some bumps and bruises.” I go over the list twice in my head before nodding slightly in confirmation. The car is silent for a few beats and I feel a weight settle over all of us. The weight that comes with caring for someone else and hurting when they’re hurt. I swallow, struggling to accept the feeling rather than struggle against it and feel guilty for inflicting it on others. In truth, it’s a choice they all made. I choice I made too, when I let them in.

“Don’t think I ever asked how you are when you’re the one who needs to be treated.” John barely breaks the silence, but the tension lessens when I hum a tired laugh.

“Oh, I’m sweet as sugar, Captain. Naturally.” That gets chuckles from most of the men in the car.

“Liar.” Soap accuses, grinning back at me and I give him a smile in return. Also, I show him my middle finger. He returns the gesture instantly and happiness flits through me at the simple banter.

“You’re not gonna be difficult for me, are you, sugar?” John whispers just low enough for me to hear and I smile, wincing as it stretches a cut on my cheek.

“I like to think I behave better than most of you do when you need care.” I give Ghost a pointed look since he’s the worst of the bunch and he grunts, shaking his head while Soap and Gaz make noises of dissent.

Price shifts and my grip tightens on his knee until he settles again. “I remember being pretty docile last time.”

“After some convincing.” I return, my eyes shutting for just a moment before I feel light flicking at my nose. My eyes open and see Ghost pulling his hand back, head shaking with eyes on mine. I nod once. Got to stay awake. It goes on like this for the rest of the drive. One or all of them keeping up a conversation with me while Ghost taps my nose, pulls my ear, or annoys me in some other way when I start to drift. When we arrive at base, I can barely give one-word answers because I’m so exhausted.

The men rush me into the medical tent and I hate being set on the bed, hate being the one who needs treatment, hate the starchy feel of the sheets, and hate being poked and prodded. There’s a deep frown on my face as I allow the medics to do their job and they give Price the same list of injuries that I gave him earlier. Only after they hear that, and that I’m going to be fine with rest and treatment, Price dismisses the others and they reluctantly go. Although Gaz slips me another hard candy before he goes and gets a smile out of me.

Price stays. Even after the medics pull me aside and push me into a sterile bath to clean all my cuts after I practically showered in that man’s blood, I return smelling like chemicals and find Price waiting. I give him a look and the corner of his mouth lifts, but I can’t bring myself to verbally scold him. His presence settles me as it always has and that’s something I’m especially grateful for while I’m here.

There are a few places where I need stitches and I sit through it silently, Price and I just looking each other over. Seeing that we’re both alive and safe. The medics wrap my ankle again and lay me down in bed with it elevated while I try to keep my grumbling to a minimum. I’m exhausted, but this place, this position, keeps me on edge. But it’s getting harder to resist.

“Just sleep.” John says with a hint of humor in his voice as he sits in the chair next to me.

I heave a breath, nodding. “I’m not fighting it. Just hard to do in a place like this.” He moves a touch closer and breathing comes a little easier as his fingers slot with mine, the tips of his fingers sliding over the length of mine. He understands more than most why I’m having trouble.

“You’re not going to be alone here. Not for a second.” He promises with nothing but sincerity in those lovely blue eyes. My lips press together.

“I can’t ask you for that.”

“You’re not. I’m giving it to you.” He returns instantly and I can’t help but melt. Can’t argue with that. “Sleep.” His other hand raises to slide over my head, his fingers twisting a few locks of hair between them. My eyes flutter closed at the feeling and I don’t mean to fall asleep, but his gentle touch lulls me into peace in seconds.

*     *     *

I wake up feeling a slight weight settling on top of me and I’m on alert in a split second, my eyes flashing open and my hands darting out to grab what I can. The person freezes and I end up staring into dark eyes with their wrist in one hand and the collar of their shirt in the other. “Just me, G.” The voice takes a few moments to sink in, but I relax a second later with a grimace as the sudden movement tweaked my ribs.

“Ghost.” I breathe and slowly release him while he lets go of my wrist that he grabbed to keep me from choking him. “Gotta stop meeting like this.” I tease and he hums as he sits in the chair next to me, moving it as close to the bed as he can. I settle back down and note that the slight weight was another one of his jackets laid over my chest. A little smile pulls on my lips at the sight.

“Think I’d have learned by now. Especially since you still have my other jacket.” He flicks his chin towards the one covering me and I smirk while my heartbeat slowly calms. He’s only wearing the cloth that covers his face tonight and there’s no black smudged around his eyes. It’s as close to being Simon as he allows himself to be on base.

“I always meant to return it.” I say honestly, thinking fondly of his jacket hanging in my closet back home. “Think I like it too much now. I’ll get you another one.” That earns me a rare chuckle as he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds good.” He agrees and there’s that little glint in his eye that tells me he has something to say. He’s either waiting until he’s ready to say it, or he’s still mulling over the words in his mouth. “Took me a solid ten minutes to get Price out of here.” I smile, imagining the soft argument followed by Ghost shoving Price out of the infirmary.

“Thanks for relieving him.”

He shakes his head. “Not a problem.”

“And you wanted to talk to me.” I help him along a bit with amusement in my voice as his fingers knit together and his gaze steadies on mine.

“I did.” He confirms and now I wait, letting him decide when he’s ready to talk. My hands slide over the jacket he laid over me, grateful for the lack of chemical smell emanating from it. It just smells like him. Like bitter tea leaves and a small citrus tang that usually taints his clothes. Probably his detergent. “I don’t forgive you.” He starts and my attention immediately shifts to him and his dark eyes trained on mine. “I don’t accept your apology for thinking we wouldn’t come for you because that’s bullshit and I won’t forgive you until you never fucking believe that again.”

My eyes widen when I hear the heat in his tone. It’s not that odd to hear Ghost get riled up, especially around Soap, but I’ve never had him take that tone with me. Not seriously. “I know it was stupid.”

“Damn right.” He grumbles and I give him a pointed look for rubbing it in. “Say it. Tell me you know we’ll always come for you.” His gaze is unyielding and I know he means it.

“I know the team will always come for me.” Even to my ears, the words sound hesitant. Ghost’s eyes narrow.

“You say that every day ’til it feels as natural as your fucking name. And I’ll ask you to say it every once and a while. ‘Til it’s a reflex.” I sigh, but his tone is insistent. After a moment, I relent with a nod and he pins me in place with his eyes before nodding back and relaxing again in his chair. “You don’t get to save my ass, then think we’re not coming after you. Never believe that, G.”

“I get it, Ghost. I’ll do it.” Because it’s important to him and because he’s clearly trying to do something good for me, even if it’s something I hesitate to do. “And when I can stand without falling over, I’ll give you a hug for being such a pain in my ass.” The mask twitches and his eyes crinkle so I know he’s smiling.

“We’ll see if you can catch me to do it.” He returns and I smirk, knowing he’ll let me. “Now, go on and pass out. Price’ll have my hide if I keep you up.”

“Mmhmm.” I smile and let my exhaustion catch up with me, falling asleep a little easier with his scent in my nose rather than the chemicals that cleaned my body.

The next time I wake, Soap has taken Ghost’s place and morning light is seeping into the tent. “Morning, lass.” He greets and I give him a bleary grunt in return. “Cheery in the morning.” He quips and I’m about to tell him what he can do with his cheer before he points to a tray beside me. “That’s for you, if you’re up for it. Will ye let me help you up without bitin’ me?” Soap gets up and I nod, grabbing onto his arms as they slide under mine to pull me up into a sitting position.

A long breath leaves me as pain echoes through my body with every movement, but Johnny is gentle and makes sure to stack pillows behind me before moving back. He pushes a glass of water into my hand along with some pills. “Nurses said to give those to ya.”

I raise a brow and take the pills despite how my face hurts. I bet I really look like shit. “They trusted you with a task? I’m shocked.”

He smirks. “At least your spirits are still high.” Soap reaches over and pulls the tray closer to hover over my lap. “Eat up. Took everything in me not to steal your applesauce.” I hum amusedly, picking up the small container first and happily digging into the sweet treat. Soap flicks my ear. “Cruel lass. Careful, I might rethink my offer.”

I pause and raise a brow. “Offer?”

Mischief glints in his eyes and I take a deep breath to prepare myself. “You’re coming to Scotland with me.” He says with a smug grin. “The group we took out last night were the last few we were after, so we’re on leave starting the day after tomorrow. Since you’ve got no one waitin’ for ya at home, I’m takin’ ya with me to see my family. So I can keep an eye on ya.” He winks at me while I blink a few times to make sure I heard him right.

“That’s…that’s not necessary, Soap. I can take care of myself.” I frown as I think of myself laying on his couch surrounded by his family, just taking up space. “I couldn’t possibly impose on you and your family.” Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone’s family. Parents…I haven’t been around parents in at least a fucking decade.

“Too bad.” Soap answers instantly, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve already told my Ma and she’s excited to meet ya. If you resist, I’ll carry you there slung over my shoulder.” I pout, setting my food down on the tray as I try to think of a way out of this. “Come on, lass, it’ll be fun. You only have to stay off your foot for a little while and I’ll be there to entertain you in the meantime.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I look at him and if anyone can pull off a puppy dog look, it’s Johnny. After a few moments I sigh, pressing my fingers to my temple. “You’re sure your family doesn’t mind—”

“They’re fucking thrilled, G. Come on, just say you’ll come without a fight.” He leans forward and nudges my leg gently.

A smile tugs on my lips and I’ll admit the thought of seeing Johnny at home is a tempting one. “Yeah, okay, I’ll come.” His face brightens immediately and his big grin makes accepting worth it.

“You won’t regret it. One minute in Scotland and you’ll never want to leave.” He assures me and I nod along, listening with a fond smile as he tells me about his sisters, his mother’s cooking, and his father’s terrible jokes. To my own surprise, I find myself actually…looking forward to it.

Taglist (hello, lovelies, hope you enjoy. Lmk if anyone wants to be tagged):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova @ghostslillady

[lace-coffin]

Can I has soft Moonie and Monty gator fic, where reader is perpetually exhausted and the animatronics drag em off when they’re meant to be working to help them get some sleep in the pizzaplex? (Totally not projecting here)

How would Moondrop and Montgomery gator react to an exhausted reader on their shift?

Thank u for the moon and Monty rq I want to eat it up so bad😌

Requests are open!

Reader is gn! No trigger warnings required

Working for the pizzaplex was definitely an experience. A good one? Thats up for debate. No you loved your job, the actual security aspect of it was pretty univentful, flicking through the camera’s of the empty pizza plex. It’s not like any intruders would get far anyway with the security bots at every turn and moon slinking around in security mode. You did however get to see the dumb stuff the animatronics got up to after hours though so that was a plus. If she doesn’t tell that you’re watching YouTube on your shift then you won’t tell how you regularly see chica rummaging the kitchens like a racoon over the cams.

It was a pretty cushy job overall but the hours were vile, working from 12-6 am isn’t great for anyone and essentially becoming nocturnal because of it meant you were either sleeping or exhausted in your free time.

Today was one of the days that you’d turned up essentially half alive, isotonic drink held in a death grip and a pack of pain meds at your disposal. You clock in and slump on the chair In front of the security camera’s, groaning as the pain is taken off your joints.

Moondrop

Naturally moon has been following you to your work station since you clocked in, floating through the shadows of the pizzaplex in a totally normal and not creepy way. No matter how many times you tell him he can just greet you normally and walk you over he still refuses and watches you from afar, you know he cares but emotional vulnerability is difficult for him.

A few hours into your shift you can’t take it anymore, energy drink only doing so much for you. Your head starts to loll in your chair, finally getting a blissful second of rest-

“Morning glowbug!” Moon swings down from the ceiling in the upside down Spider-Man pose, intending and succeeding in scaring the shit out of you just as you were drifting off.

You jump in your seat and land in a pile on the floor on your ass. Once moon stops laughing at your misfortune and you realised it was just him and you weren’t about to get bite of 87’nd you huff at him from your spot on the floor.

“Very funny moon man, hilarious in fact, you do know the door is an option right? Now help me up you nerd” you say in fake irritation, tugging his trouser leg and giving him your hand.

“Everyone’s a critic, bug. I found it fairly amusing”he lends you his spindly hands and pulls you up with a bit more force than necessary, making you stumble. He snickers into the long end of his hat and you shoot him a glare. “Not the day dude”

Moons faceplate rotates at this, non verbally questioning what’s causing your sour mood, you usually love playing with him and whatever is ruining your mood needs to stop immediately because it’s ruining his fun (and maybe because he cares about you but he’ll never admit that)

“I’m fine moon, I’m just sleeping bad again, I’ll survive” you say nonchalantly, dangling your energy drink in your hand and chugging the last of it.

Moons grimaces as he watches you do this, you know he hates those stupid drinks, you feel better for an hour or two and then immediately crash worse than before, usually leaving moon to scrape you off the desk and take over the cameras.

You realise what you’ve done before moon can even get a word out, squeaking and throwing the can back on the desk. “It’s uh, not actually that bad! I’ll be fine, you know me haha, just a little behind on sleep” you stutter over your words trying to back track. You know it’s pointless and moon being the way he is you’re not going to get out of this.

“Oh no, go ahead starlight, drink your sludge. I can’t wait to peel you off the desk later” he drawls out, if his eyes could roll any further back into his head then they would have.

You rise from your chair, hiding behind it like a shield as if it’s going to save you from the inevitable. “You know the drill bug, either you get over here or I’m dragging your sorry ass over here” Moons voicebox fizzles out over the inappropriate word, stupid filters.

“Moon, you know I can’t, I have to finish my shift, I promise as soon as I get home I’ll go straight to bed, no messing” despite trying to placate him moon remains unimpressed, arms folded over his chest. You should probably run.

“Starlight they pay you peanuts, you can take one nap, they’ll survive”

The jester moves down slowly and sits on his haunches like a cat. Moon launches himself at you full speed. You scream and run to the other side of the security office, not much room to run to considering how confined it is in the first place. You yell and giggle as this continues, moon drinking in the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. Over a few minuets you start to get worn out, having no energy in the first place. This gives moon the perfect opening to land a pounce on you and snatch you into his arms, throwing you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. You playfully kick and complain but you don’t have it in you to actually be upset.

Unsurprisingly you make it to the daycare attendants room in record time, moons huge strides cutting down on time. “You know the drill” moon says as he throws a pair of daycare themed pyjamas from the gift shop at you, hitting you square in the face. You laugh and crawl into the other room through the tunnel to change.

By the time you’ve changed and come back moon has his bed all made and fluffed up and is looking at you expectantly. “Your chariot, my lord” he says dumbly, pulling back the covers and gesturing to the bed. You snort and climb in, snuggling down into the plush bedding. You make a happy noise and look back at moon, taking his big metallic hand in your smaller warm one.

“Thankyou, for this I mean, I really appreciate you caring about me like this, it means a lot”

Moon makes a fake gagging noise but his faceplate tinges a darker blue, telling his real feelings. “Always so mushy starlight” he laughs, but you know he loves the attention.

“Can you stay until I fall asleep?”

“Bold of you to assume I was leaving in the first place”

Moon scooches into the bed and rearranges his limbs into a comfy position, pulling your head against his chest and starting up his music box. He traces little shapes into your palm until you fall asleep for the night.

Montgomery gator

A horrid crash feeds through the security cam speakers. Excellent. You sigh and flip over to gator golf, already knowing who’s most likely to be causing the noise. Sure enough faint mechanical grunting and roaring can be heard. You can’t seem to find Monty on screen though, so it looks like you’ll be taking a trip down to the golf course.

You groan and pull yourself up from your chair, you really don’t have the energy for this tonight.

Not having to look very far you catch Monty red handed a few steps into the golf course. Golf club jammed into the mouth of one of the mechanical gators below the bridge. You pause and just look at him, unamused, waiting for him to explain.

“Uh, howdy twerp, I’m having some…difficulties?” He try’s, almost framing it as a question. You rub your hand over your face in exhaustion and ask him to expand on his problem.

“I uh worked up a rage after screwing up a note in tonight’s show, wouldn’t have happened if stupid fazzass hadn’t bumped into me” he grumbles, getting side tracked complaining about Freddy. “Anyway, I may have taken a swing at one of those gators…it’s turns out once the club is in it’s hard to get it back out” he laughs and rubs at the back of his head awkwardly, hoping your not going to explode on him.

“I love you but you’re a nightmare, green guy”

Monty snorts at the nickname but realises you look a little worn down, your usual bite not as prominent in your banter.

“Are you ok cher? Like you looking after yourself ok? Not to be an ass but you don’t look as with it as usual” he says in a softer tone, a look of genuine concern washing over his face.

“You want the polite answer or the real one?” Monty laughs and asks for the real one. “I’m tired as all hell and I’m essentially a zombie right now, these night shifts are killing me”

Monty frowns at this, he knows the company can be hardasses when it comes to shift patterns, not caring if their employees work themselves to death as long as the schedule is covered.

“So what you’re saying is we’re going to wrestle this stupid club out of that gator and then you’re going to the nest without causing a fuss?” Monty says, phrasing it as an order and not a question.

“I don’t even have the energy to be stubborn, ask moon man to cover for me please”

Monty gives a toothy grin at this and nods his head. You both work on releasing the golf club from its grizzly demise. Combining both your effort and Monty’s unnatural strength you pull the club free! And send it through the window of gator golf…it can wait for the day crew, technically you only came down to remove it from the gator and you’re beyond caring.

Monty throws his arms in the air in celebration. “Nice shot, cher!” You both cackle at the absurdity of the situation until you let out a yawn.

“Ok squirt, let’s get you to bed” he says softly, rosey eyes roaming over your sleepy face. Monty collects you in his arms and makes his way back to his green room, lending you an oversized gator golf shirt to change into. Monty lets out a little huff out of his nose when he sees you in the baggy shirt, adorable.

“Time to hit the hay kid” he pats on the nest he’s made on the floor out of blankets and various plushies/pillows waiting for you to climb in. Once you settle down Monty curls up around you like a big puppy, placing his snoot on your chest. (He’s totally not hoping for some pets before you sleep..)

“I don’t want to hear a peep out of you unless it’s snoring kiddo” Monty grumbles. “Love you to big guy” you hum and pat his nose

You fall asleep wrapped up in the gators tail, your chest rising and falling in time to the gentle bellows rumbling from the now calm and cuddly animatronic.

[apritellointeractive]

Sworn to Devotion: Chapter 1 - Part 5

>> April decides to bite the arm of the kidnapper.

(Art by @lovelyladylavie)

While her kidnapper’s gaze is steadfast in keeping eye contact with April’s guard, his hand wielding the knife lacks the same unwavering commitment. The white-knuckled fist clenching the dagger shakes mid-air, and the jitters are enough for the blade’s tip to leave her neck. 

It’s a split-second decision. So fast in fact that April’s tasting blood in her mouth before she realizes she’s sunk her teeth into the flesh of her captor.

However, this isn't the first person she's bitten, and he won't be the last.

The man screeches as he tries to pull his hand out of her mouth. The muscles in his hand twitch and seize as April’s teeth sink deeper. The blade clatters to the floor, forgotten as the man tries to free himself.

“What are you? An animal?!” The kidnapper finally rips his hand from her mouth and shoves her away from him. 

April throws her arms out in front of her, wincing as her arms collide with the rough surface of the cavern’s floor. Twinges of pain shoot up her arms, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the sharp gravel cut through the thin fabric of her sleeves. 

“You’re gonna pay for tha-ack!”

April whips her head around to see the yokai guard thrusting the previously abandoned dagger into the man’s chest. The guard twists it, a sickening squelching noise originating from the open wound being shredded. The man wetly gasps, desperately trying to get air into his lungs—though it will certainly not save him.

The yokai guard pushes the kidnapper to the floor, leaving him to take his last gasps of life. He then looks at the dagger and scowls. 

“Condescending hum, the weapon of thieves and criminals.” He holds the blade’s hilt between his thumb and index finger—like it’s covered in filth—before tossing the bloody blade aside, far away from April and her kidnappers.

April watches her guard as he looks over the bodies once more—presumably to make sure they’re dead—before his eyes fall on her. He jolts, his eyebrows—comically drawn onto his purple mask— shooting upward as if he’s surprised that she’s looking at him.

He rushes to her side, offering his weird three-fingered hands to her. “Ahem! Princess, ah… April. Are you alright?”

April narrows her eyes. Did he momentarily forget her name? And his question lacked any warmth and concern. April isn’t going to get anything but the bare minimum from him, is she?

But she doesn’t have time to wallow in self-pity.

She takes his hands, letting him pull her to her feet before wiping the blood from her mouth with her sleeve. “Y-yeah. I’m… I’m fine. The blade didn’t hurt me or anything like that.” Her gaze drops to her arms and she frowns at the blood blotching the shredded fabric. “Scraped my arms up a bit though.”

“Ah! Let me assist you, I have a small aid kit in my possession.”

He guides her over to one of the large rocks in the cave and sits her down. The torn sleeves of her dress are pushed past her shoulder, revealing the collection of small abrasions scattered across her forearms. April hisses as the open air touches the wounds, though she tries to swallow down her discomfort.

The yokai guard does not comment, only pulling a small sack out from underneath his armor and rummaging through the contents. He pulls out an amber bottle and gauze, popping the cork off and pouring the clear fluid onto the fabric strip.

He then places the bottle on the floor and takes one of April’s arms in his hands. “This will sting.”

That’s about all the warning April gets before the fluid-soaked gauze is wiped across her arms. She bites her tongue, trying not to cry in pain as the guard makes quick work of disinfecting her arms. 

He’s certainly not being very gentle, but considering how he was glaring at her earlier this week, April’s just happy he’s taking the time to clean her wounds. He’s at least doing the bare minimum. 

Once the guard is satisfied, he tosses the used gauze on the floor and delves back into his bag. April watches as he takes a large roll of gauze and wraps up her arms, covering all of her scraps and cuts completely.

He finishes securing the bindings before nodding his head. “There. Are you injured anywhere else?”

April runs her hands along the gauze, pleased with his work. “No. I think that’s good. Though... where are we?”

>> April looks around the cave.

OPTION 1: The walls of the cave are made of grey-and-white speckled granite, smoothed over time. However, a thick layer of gravel coats the floor, and the cave continues to tunnel deeper into the earth, the path downward shrouded in darkness. Distant sounds of dropping water echo through the cave.

OPTION 2: The walls of the cave are plain gray with white quartz crystals. Some are small and barely the size of a thumbnail, while others reach right up to her hip. It’s almost magical the way the crystals catch the light filtering in from the outside. Nestled behind one of the crystal clusters is a chest, the green paint peeling away from the weathered wood.

OPTION 3: The walls of the cave are dark grey, with unlit torches lining the stone surfaces. There are a few wooden boxes littered along the sides, all bearing a red footmark. The cave continues to tunnel deeper into the earth, the path downward shrouded in darkness. The air coming up from the deep tastes almost stale.

[glowbug252]

Tmntober Day 5

Prompt: Act

Takes place in 2012 tmnt during the episode "The New Girl in Town"

It’s in the middle of their battle with Snakeweed, in Raph’s first battle with the mantle of leader that everything goes horribly wrong. Raph was already beginning to panic. They’d started out fine, freeing the humans from their strange plant cages, but they had been ambushed by Snakeweed. He hadn’t known how to react, but luckily it seemed that Donnie and Mikey had. They’d quickly rushed to defend themselves, attempting to attack, and Raph had as well. It was only after he saw his brothers start to flag that he grew worried to the point of irritability. He’d snapped at Donnie to “get back in there,” and Donnie had asked “And do what?” Raph didn’t have an answer and it scared him. He’d blurted the first thing that came to his head (“go for the head,”) and had almost immediately regretted it. He’d stuck to what he’d said, though, and Donnie had only gotten tossed onto his shell for his attempt, leaving Snakeweed unscathed. 

Raph’s eyes opened in horror. This was going horribly, his fear was spiraling, he couldn’t think, his brother might be hurt-

“Now what, Chief?” Mikey asks, not knowing that this was the worst thing to ask at the moment. 

Raph’s heart sinks when he realizes he still doesn’t have a better answer. 

“Go-!” He tries to stall but can’t think of anything. His voice is growing more and more desperate. “-For the head!”

Mikey doesn't argue. He just wasn’t the type, really. But even Raph knew that if it was Leo saying this, Raph would have felt compelled to point out what a bad idea it was, but he doesn't have a better suggestion! It was all on Raph!

“Fifth time’s the charm!” Mikey states, readying his nunchucks, but he doesn't get more than a step forward before Snakeweed’s whirling tentacles send him flying through the air, crying out. He hits the wall face first. Hard. 

“Mikey!” Raph’s horrified voice cuts through the air. He runs for his brother as fast as he can, dodging Snakeweed’s blows and desperately trying to reach him. Guilt is churning in Raph’s gut as he kneels down beside his fallen brother, trying to wake him up. This was all his fault. He couldn’t lead! What was he thinking?! He knew that was a bad idea but he said it anyway! Mikey had trusted him! How could he have done this?!

“Raph?” Donnie cries, barely dodging blows. “A little help, here?” 

What can he say? What can they do? Raph shouldn't be the one leading! He’s a monster who got his brother hurt because of his bad leadership. 

“Just-” Raph tries to order, but his voice sounds desperate. “-Hold him off!” 

Donnie looks at him with wide eyes, knowing what a bad idea this is. Raph knows it too but he can’t find anything else to tell him to do. He’s desperate and confused. Donnie’s expression weakens a little at the look on Raph’s face and he turns back to fight without any comments. 

Raph turns back to Mikey, his heart pounding desperately. “Come on, Mikey!” He taps him on the head, but receives no response. “Wake up!” He begs, his eyes wide and horrified. “Don’t do this to me!” His youngest brother doesn't respond. Raph looks up at Donnie desperately as he’s struggling against Snakeweed. “Mikey’s down!”

Donnie shoots back no solutions, no easy way out. No one else to pin the blame on. “So what do we do now, Raph?!” 

Raph doesn't know. He doesn't know. He doesn't know! He can’t make up his mind! There’s no options in his head, all that’s there is panic and guilt. He looks down to Mikey’s unconscious form. Come on, act! He looks up at Donnie, struggling and fighting, trapped with his bo the last line of defense between him and Snakeweed. Act! Do something! Leo would have done something! You’re failing them! They’re all going to die because you won’t act! 

“Raph!” Donnie’s voice screeches desperately, the sound scraping on his ears. 

Do something! Act! You said you were the leader now! You got them all into this! You need to fix everything! You need to pick the thing that will fix the whole situation! But Raph can’t think of anything at all except for how much of a failure he is. He got Mikey hurt. He’s about to get Donnie hurt! 

Act!  

But he can’t. He’s no leader.

He’s just the one that can question things all he wants but can’t come up with anything better. He’s the one that threatens his brothers to get them to listen instead of rallying them. He’s the one that punched Mikey, his brother now unconscious on the ground, for trying to get him and Leo to make up. 

He’s just the angry one, and he can’t make himself act. He has no solutions. No way out. 

He’s- nothing.

@tmntober-2023

[twomrw]

Love is Round

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Part 3

“To what do I owe this honour?” 

Mark rolls his head toward the doorway and opens his eyes with a groan.

“It’s so good to see you too,” the same smug voice fills the room again, but this time Mark can witness its matching smug smile.

“Come on,” the woman picks up the crutches leaning against the wall next to him and holds them out to him, “I’ve got hot chocolate and animal crackers with your name on them.”

Mark offers her an unimpressed look and she throws her head back to laugh maniacally. 

“It's so easy to rile you up. I just inadvertently call you a baby and then you act like one.”

He gets out of the seat and snatches the crutches from her, grumbling the whole time as she leads him to an office in the back. He ignores the sign on the door; it’s already engraved in his mind: Dr D. Everest, Head Counselour.

“I hear you’ve joined the Newspaper club.”

Mark drops unceremoniously onto the couch in the corner with a huff. He drops a hand over his eyes as he focuses on the sound of the spoon scraping the bottom of the mug of hot chocolate Dr Everest is preparing for him. 

“Or not?”

Mark groans again.

“Here.”

He removes his arm from his face to see a mug of steaming liquid being offered to him and he sits up with a grunt.

“Thanks.” 

His answer comes out more gruff than he’d like and he isn't surprised when his benefactor pulls the mug out of reach with a look of reprimand. He clears his throat and tries again.

“Thank you.”

She nods and releases the mug into his hands before sitting behind the desk.

“Where’re the animal crackers?” 

She shoots him an incredulous look this time and he pouts.

“I was promised animal crackers,” he mutters against his mug before looking up in time to catch her rolling her eyes.

“Big baby,” she mutters under her breath causing Mark to stick out his tongue at her.

They sip their drinks in silence for a few minutes and he knows she's waiting him out. He sighs.

“I messed up, D.”

She doesn't ask him how. She just puts down her mug and waits. He swirls the last bit of liquid around in his mug and sighs again. He thinks back to when Ms Lewis explained what his options were.

“Dance or Newspaper.”

Mark had blinked and then blinked again.

“Excuse me?”

“Those are the two clubs willing to take you.”

“Did you say ‘dance’?” Ms Lewis had nodded, an amused smile on her face.

“But...” he gestured to his cast.

“Well, over the years, the club has made deliberate efforts to be more inclusive and accessible to anyone who wants to join. Mr Forster assured me that they would find a way to incorporate you so you could participate. Besides, you should be out of your cast by the final performance.”

“Performance?”

“Yeah! Every semester the dance club puts on a show. It’s not as well attended as the Theatre Department’s official performances, but it happens.”

“People would have to see me dance for me to keep my scholarship?”

“I’m sure there is lots of skill transfer from swimming to dance.”

Mark shot her a dubious look that only seemed to make her smile grow.

“Well you can always sign up for Newspaper.” She shrugged. “They’re always open to new writers.”

Mark had let the groan escape him this time as his head fell into his hands.

“It’s up to you Mr Everest. The choice is yours.”

A week ago Newspaper had been the only plausible option, but now he’d gone and screwed it up.

He looks up at the concerned face in front of him and he blurts it all out, “The Newspaper club welcomed me with open arms because there’s no way I was going to dance… I haven't been able to pull my own chair out for weeks! I don't know why Ms Lewis would think I could dance. Besides…you’ve seen me dance…we don’t need to subject the whole school to that…so newspaper club it was… until I went and messed everything up by pissing off the editor of this next week’s issue. And it would have been fine, there’s always the next week, but apparently I need my name to show up on some piece of evidence this week so that Ms Lewis can include it in this month’s report or else I can kiss my scholarship goodbye.”

Dr Everest shrugs, failing at stifling her laughter, “Well I guess I have a dance recital to look forward to.”

“This isn't funny.” He scowls and it only makes her laugh harder.

“You're right.” She clears her throat, an amused smile still peaking through. “It's not. Of course it’s not.” She takes a deep breath and schools her features while his scowl deepens. She clears her throat again. “What are you going to do about it?”

He shoots her a look of frustration. “That's what you're here for.”

“Nope. Nope. Not a chance.”

“You're a counselor! That's literally your job.”

“It’s not and you know it.” Her tone is barren of all amusement or mirth. “I'm not telling you what to do. You're an adult. You can figure this one out on your own.”

“Well clearly not. I've already made a mess of everything. I always make a mess of everything.” His last sentence comes out in a mere whisper.

Something in D’s stern look softens. She lets out a put upon sigh before raising her index finger, “First of all,  I think you’ll be happy to know that the thing about messes is that most of them can be cleaned up.” Mark makes a face while she raises another finger, “Second, we’ve spoken about that kind of language. You promised that you were going to try being kinder to yourself.”

Mark rolls his eyes.

“I'm serious. You’d be surprised to see how much smoother the healing process would go if you weren’t so caught up in beating yourself up for how long it’s taking. A little self compassion goes a long way.”

Mark suspects that the meaningful look being aimed at him is about more than his foot. He immediately regrets confiding that he was avoiding getting into cars after the accident. At least he hadn’t told her the whole truth. She’d have been even more worried if she knew car horns made him flinch.

“I really think you should try journaling again.”

Mark scoffs.

“You used to love writing. What happened?”

Mark shrugs, shifting in his seat. He brings the mug to his lips to find that its empty. He clears his throat and looks up at her with a practiced look of annoyance. “Enough of your psychoanalyzing. What do I do?”

She sighs, resigned.

“In my experience, a sincere apology goes a long way.”

And that's how Mark ends up outside the lab on a Thursday afternoon. He leans against the doorway as he watches Jasmine take off her lab coat and slip on her backpack. Kerry says something to her and she smiles, but something about it seems forced. That must be why she almost bumps into Mark on her way out the door.

She looks up in confusion, “Sorry.” Recognition flickers across her features. “Mark, hi. Sorry, I was a little distracted.” She waves a dismissive hand towards the room behind her and plasters a smile onto her face.

“No. It was my fault. I was the one loitering in the hallway.” He smiles and hers grows genuine.

“What are you doing here? I thought you dropped all your core courses this semester.”

“Uhhh….yeah …I was actually hoping to run into you.”

Jasmine’s mouth falls open a little.

“Not literally,” he amends and they both laugh.

“How can I help?” She looks at him with a pleasant smile.

Mark opens his mouth to respond, but stumbles forward as something rams into his side. Jasmine reaches out and grabs onto him while he flails a hand towards the door frame and one of his crutches clatters to the ground.

A hand reaches down to get it and holds it out to him as a familiar voice speaks, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.”

Mark’s eyes follow the hand, up the arm, the shoulder and eventually to the face that’s wearing a forced smile of its own.

Kerry wiggles the crutch in his hand and Mark reaches out to take it as Jasmine finally drops her hands that were still clutching his arms.

“Thanks,” Mark mumbles as he readjusts his weight to fit the crutch under his arm.

“No problem.” He gestures with his chin towards Mark’s cast, “How’s that healing?”

“Fine.” Mark isn't quite able to keep the ice out of his tone and his anger only grows as Kerry offers him a sympathetic smile.

“That's great! Can't wait to have you back on the team!”

Mark grits his teeth to prevent himself from saying something dumb in front of Jasmine, but from the way she's shuffling her feet, he can tell that his silence is no better. 

Somehow he manages a civil “You guys are doing great without me.”

Kerry places a heavy hand on Mark’s shoulder and squeezes. Mark uses all his willpower not to wince. 

“If there's one thing to admire about you Mark, it's your humility. Right, Jas?” 

Kerry turns to look at Jas for the first time in this exchange and there it is again, that forced smile Mark saw her give him earlier.

“Mmhhhm.” She nods before glancing at her watch. “Uhhh…” She offers Mark an apologetic look. “Can we do this another time? Lauren asked me to pick up lunch for her.”

“It will only take a minute. Why don't I walk with you?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Her smile is one of relief. “Let me take your bag though. It looks heavy.”

“It's fine.”

She shoots him an unimpressed look. 

“Fine. Only because the cafeteria is close by,” he relents.

As they transfer his load, they hear someone clear their throat. Mark looks in the direction of the sound and finds Kerry with a thinly veiled look of annoyance on his face. Honestly, Mark forgot he was there and from the look of surprise on Jas’ face, he suspects that she did too. 

“Remember to get back to me about Sunday,” he addresses Jasmine.

She offers a curt nod and Kerry’s smile still seems a bit strained as he turns to Mark.

“I’ll see you around, Everest.”

“Mhmm.”

Kerry offers them a final nod and stalks off in the other direction. Mark watches him go until Jas interrupts his thoughts. 

“Come on. Let's go.” 

Mark unclenches the fists he’d unknowingly made and follows Jas who’s already started down the hall towards the cafeteria. The two walk in silence for a minute, before she turns to look at him. Feeling her gaze, he finds her offering a sympathetic look.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Mark looks away from her for a second before making direct eye contact. “About what?” 

As soon as the words leave his mouth he realizes how ridiculous they are and from the knowing look she shoots him she communicates that she knows that he knows what she's talking about.

He lets out a weary sigh and before he opens his mouth again she interrupts.

“Hey…it's okay if you don't want to talk about it...”

She stops walking and places a hand on his arm. “But if you ever change your mind…you know where to find me.” She shrugs, “I might know a thing or two about letting go of old friends.”

Mark's eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his eyes widen and his face only relaxes as he catches sight of the friendly smile on Jas' face. That's right. She's always been pretty perceptive.

He raises an eyebrow, “How do you know that I’m the one doing the letting go? What if I’m being let go?”

Jas shrugs. “I don't. But it doesn't matter to me. I'm here for you either way.”

Mark fails to hide the fact that he's taken aback by this show of friendship. He’d always thought that he was just a friend of a friend to Jas. It was nice to know that she thought differently.

He offers her a grateful smile. “Thanks Jas. I might just take you up on that offer someday.”

“Well…that's why I made it.”

They grin at each other and then they're walking again. The two are silent for a beat until Mark remembers why he sought her out.

“Actually, I might just take you up on it now.”

Jas offers him a curious look.

“Not about Kerry.” He shakes his head dismissively, “I need your help reaching Lauren actually.” He lets out a weary sigh. “The two of us got off on the wrong foot on Wednesday and I need to apologize.”

Jas offers him an amused look, the result of a stifled laugh. “I heard about that.”

“Yeah. It wasn't my best moment.”

“No, but I’ll let you in on a secret.” Jas has a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes when he turns to look at her. “Lauren feels just as bad about it.”

“Yeah?”

She nods.

“Do you think she feels bad enough to let me help her with next week's issue?”

Jas laughs aloud this time. “I don't know, but I can ask.”

“Really?” He asks, the awe he feels bleeding into his tone.

Jas offers him a blinding smile. “What are friends for?”

Previous | Next

More Love is Round: Love is Round and Other Stories

More of my Writing: Masterlist

[daylightaftertherain]

this created a demon (me writing this cracked scenario in about fifteen minutes running on instant ramen and sleep deprivation-related insanity) and because it is 5 in the morning and I have not slept here's a little over 660 words of absolute nonsense that I started impulsively and will not remember writing at all in twelve hours (featuring cockbocking legend henry of course)

  “Oh, fuck.” Wille jumps, and looks around Simon to see Henry with his back firmly turned, yelling apologies at him and Simon, who’s currently shaking with laughter while pulling on pants. He’d clearly walked in on Simon straddling Wille and seen the conspicuous lack of clothing, which Wille doesn’t have the heart to be upset about anymore, because it’s Henry.

  “Um, sorry, didn’t mean to cockblock, uh, I was just going to tell you we’re watching a movie and there’s pizza in Walter’s room?” Wille smacks Simon lightly from where his boyfriend is practically vibrating with muffled giggling.

  “It’s fine, Henry, just tell Walter we’ll pass for next time,” he says, “and please knock the next time you come in here.”

  “Yup, definitely going to do that,” Henry says distantly, already backing out the door and down the hall. Wille groans and gets up to close the door and firmly lock it. 

  He turns back to Simon and smiles despite the flush still burning in his cheeks at the sight of him still giggling from his spot in the tangle of sheets and blankets. Simon grins and pulls Wille onto the bed, where he settles with his head in Simon’s lap and lets him run a hand absently through his hair, which has been growing out again. 

  “Bets on half of Forest Ridge finding out about this within the next ten minutes?” Simon asks, amusement still lingering in his voice. Wille hums.

  “Personally, I think Maddie’s going to find out too, somehow.”

~~~

  Breakfast is… not quiet, and Simon can definitely feel some eyes flickering towards them more than usual, but it’s not as loud or rude as he’d theorized with Wille. 

  (He’s glad, at least, since him and Wille’s sex life had received enough attention for a lifetime, but the boys here weren’t exactly known for being discrete, or subtle about gossiping, and do they ever like to gossip)

  They’re still fully expecting one of the third years to announce “on the table” though, and Wille had assured him he would handle it. 

  (“I’m hoping it’s Nils, at least.”

  “Why him?”

  “He’ll be more chill, since he’s like, discreet about his own shit.”

  “What the fuck does that- Nils is gay?”)

  Simon gets momentarily distracted when he gets pulled into a debate about the presentation they had later that week with Walter, then Wille steals half of his eggs, but breakfast goes by almost without incident, aside from a random burst of singing on the third year’s side about whatever the fuck Vincent had been doing last night. Simon nudges Wille.

  “Not that I’m not glad or the tiny chance Henry either shut up this time, or they’re actually being normal about this, you know as well as I do everyone here knows, and they’re not saying anything,” he whispers, “and they were all over you and Felice, don’t apologize again, Wille, we’re all over it, but this just feels a little targeted at me not being a girl.”

  “Actually,” Wille frowns, “yeah. Let’s do something about it, then.”

  Simon only has half a second to shoot him a questioning look before there’s a scrape of Wille’s chair, and he climbs onto the table, narrowly missing stepping on his plate. 

  “Um, so, we didn’t do on the table today, even though I know all of you know Henry caught me and Simon yesterday, and I think it’s kind of stupid and also really fucking telling that all of you were singing and cheering over me and Felice watching a movie, while this is just ignored, so, this is me. On the table, and me and Simon fucked last night, and it was great. Thank you.”

  He gets back down and picks up the remainder of his sandwich, blinking to probably the best silence Simon has ever fucking heard and this is the best morning he’s ever had at Hillerska. 

  (Their friends are going to complain so much about Simon not getting that on video)

crack fic idea where s3 wille just gets up on the table without any prompting and announces to all of forest ridge he and simon fucked last night

[sunflowergirl522]

Nothing New

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Yours and Eddie’s friendship was fine. And you were fine with just being that. But then the new girl came along. (Angst with a happy ending)

Word Count: 4051

Eddie Masterlist

You’ve been best friends with Eddie Munson ever since your freshman year and you joined Hellfire with Jeff. It had been an almost instant connection with the at the time junior. He likes to joke that he’s failed senior year so many times just so he can graduate with you. And with how well he’s doing in his classes this time around it’s getting harder to tell that it’s a joke. Him and the guys were really the only friends you had, though you’re partially convinced that that’s just because you were in their club and as soon as you all graduated you’d only ever see them when you see Corroded Coffin play or Eddie drags you to a practice.

You knew Eddie was actually a friendship that would last. From the moment you told him you liked whatever band shirt he had on all those years ago he latched onto you. He was constantly making the plans for the two of you to hang out one on one and telling you when each of the bands' shows were as soon as they booked one. He went out of his way all the time to weasel his way into your life and you couldn’t be happier about it. He was the first genuine friend you’ve ever had besides Robin who’s basically a sister to you.

“Have you guys met the new girl yet?” Jeff asks as you and Eddie get to the table.

“There’s a new girl?” Eddie pulls out your chair and you shoot him a smile in thanks before sitting down and scooting it close to the table.

“Yeah, she’s cool. We invited her to sit with us today.” Adam shrugs and takes another bite of his food.

“Oh! Maybe we’ll finally get another girl to join!”

“What, you don’t like being surrounded by immature hormonal boys all the time?” Eddie teases, nudging your shoulder with his own.

“Oh definitely not, and their leader is the worst of them all.” You tease him right back laughing and earning a piece of his trail mix getting flicked at your cheek.

“Hey guys!” You look away from Eddie at the sound of the voice coming from the girl who just stopped at the table. She’s dressed in a Judas Priest shirt, ripped jeans, and a plaid flannel with a few chain necklaces and rings adorning her neck and hands. 

Jeff and Garreth move down a seat so she can sit at the corner by Eddie. He doesn’t look her way until she pulls her chair in, he had been too busy studying you but the scraping of the chair brings his attention to her. You watch as his face lights up as he recognizes the band shirt and your heart falls, it breaks a little really. You’ve been living in this fantasy that even though you and Eddie were so different he’d still feel the same way about you that you did him. But this girl seems like she’d just be absolutely perfect for him.

“Hey, I’m Ember.” She gives the two of you a little wave. Of course she would also have a badass name. And when Eddie smiles wide at her you wish you could just disappear into the floor.

“You like Judas Priest?” It was such an Eddie thing to completely ignore introducing himself to talk about music.

“Oh yeah, one of my favorite bands. You like them?”

“They’re great! I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand and she takes it a little too enthusiastically and with a flirty little smile you'll scoff at later when you��re getting ready to scream into your pillow. You look away from them to find Mike and Dustin walking towards the table. You smile and wave at them, getting excited waves back. You’ve grown attached to the two boys and Lucas since the start of the year. You look at them as younger brothers and you’ve started inviting them over for family dinners since your mom loves to cook for way more than just two people since your dad works nights most times.

“Hey guys!”

“Hey Y/n.” They speak in unison before taking their seats.

“Oh, hey.” Dustin says to Ember as he notices her. “Are you joining Hellfire?”

“I would but I don’t actually know how to play Dungeons and Dragons. Just thought you guys would make some cool friends after meeting Jeff and Adam.”

“I could teach you to play?” Eddie offers and your smile falters for a fraction of a second.

“Really? That would be great!” 

Eddie talks to Ember most of lunch leaving you to sit with your head in your hand while you eat. He barely even notices when you move to sit in between the freshmen so they can tell you all about their science project. You look over at them every so often and immediately hate yourself for it each time. Dustin notices though and tries his hardest to keep a smile on your face and keep your attention on him and Mike. The other boys take a liking to Ember immediately with Garreth and Jeff fighting for her attention but she seems to only want to give it to Eddie. 

“Y/n.” 

“Yeah?” You look up at Eddie laughing at a joke Dustin had just told you when you hear him call out for you.

“You still coming with me to band practice later?”

“You’re in a band? That’s so cool!” Ember speaks before you can respond and you’re ready for him to forget that he even asked you a question so you turn your attention back to Dustin.

“Yeah you should come see us perform sometime. Y/n?”

“If you still want me there absolutely.” You shrug, glancing back over at him.

“Can’t practice without our mascot.” He winks at you with that dumb goofy smile on his face and your hearts slowly starts to melt back together. 

You get a ride home with Steve later instead of going with Eddie claiming you needed to study so he couldn’t come over like he normally would until it was time to head to practice. He hadn’t even realized what you said until you were already getting into Steve’s car with Robin and it was too late to ask you about it. He normally was over even if you had to study, he’d study with you so it didn’t make sense for him to not go to your house. He couldn’t confront you about it though because he had been planning a day to start teaching Ember how to play Dnd when you came up to the van and rushed it out of your mouth.

You didn’t study when you got home, instead you put on your favorite Beatles album and went through your memory box. Thinking of all the good times you’ve had with Eddie helps reassure you that even if he ends up with Ember he’ll still be your best friend. You had been worried that with her around everyone would just grow tired of you and you’d fade into the background until you weren’t even a second thought in their minds. It’s what’s happened with every other friendship you’ve ever had once you lost all novelty when someone else showed up.

When Eddie shows up later you’re singing along to Dolly Parton and organizing your desk. He has to admit you look to be in a better mood than earlier when you all but ran away from him. He almost didn’t want to disturb your peace but he was already running late and standing in your doorway admiring you wasn’t helping.

“You ready to go?” You jump at the sound of his voice, hand flying to your chest.

“You scared me, Eds! Just let me grab a sweater and I’ll be ready.” As you stand up he notices that you’ve changed clothes since school let out. Your long sleeved shirt and pants have been switched out for a tight tank top and some shorts. You grab the oversized white sweater that Eddie had gotten you in the winter because he thought you would look like a puff ball in it and throw it on before sitting back down to shove your feet into your shoes. 

“Sorry Sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare ya.” Eddie enters your room to turn your stereo off before holding out his hands to pull you out of the seat. “Now come on slowpoke, we're already late.”

“Oh and whose fault is that?” You tease as you let him drag you through your house.

“Yours obviously. Bye Mrs. Y/l/n!”

“Bye kids have fun!”

“We will ma! I’ll be home before nine!” You yell out for her as Eddie pulls you out of your door before he stops you and pokes his head back in.

“Maybe just before ten!” His words cause your mom to laugh as he shuts the door. “What are you standing around for, let's go!” You laugh as he shoves you by your shoulders the whole way to his van.

When the two of you pull up and exit the van you spot Ember already standing in the garage talking to Jeff.

“Hey guys, Ember wanted to check us out. Hope that was okay.”

“Yeah that’s cool.” Eddie shrugs before heading over to tune up his guitar. You offer a wave to her and head over to your regular seat in the corner. She smiles at you and waves back before walking over to talk to Eddie which has you rolling your eyes. After a bit you see Eddie gesture your way and she’s heading over to sit in the seat next to you.

“Hi, I’m Y/n. We didn’t really get to meet at lunch earlier.” You turn to look at her after a minute of silence. 

“It’s nice to meet you, the boys have actually told me a little about you.” 

“Really?” She nods before her attention is on the band who started playing. It warms your heart that they talked about you to her. Soon enough your attention is on the long haired dork playing his guitar and singing their newest song just loud enough for it to carry over the music. 

“They’re really good!”

“Aren’t they? I love listening to them perform.”

“Eddie’s really amazing.”

“Yeah, he is.” You smile as you watch him do his little head bags while he plays.

“Are you two like a thing?”

“What?”

“Like are you dating?” She glances over at you as she reasks.

“Oh, no he’s just my best friend.” 

“That’s good to hear.” Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach as she looks back over to admire Eddie. Of course she’d be going after your best friend instead of one of the other guys, he’s the coolest, sweetest guy you know. 

Later on the way home you’re oddly quiet. Normally you’d tell Eddie how well he played or how much you loved the new song they were practicing but you didn’t even sing along when Eddie put on the mixtape he made you full of your favorite songs so you’d have them in his van. This left Eddie to have a confused frown on his face the whole drive and everytime he glanced over at you your head was turned away from him looking out the window. When he parks the van outside of your house you thank him for the ride in a small voice and hop out before he can say anything to you. Eddie purses his lips as he watches you walk around the van before shaking his head.

“Nope, uh-uh.” He gets out and follows you down the walkway until he can grab your wrist to stop you from going any farther. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off almost all day, are you okay?”

“I just haven’t been feeling the best today, Eds. I think I just need some sleep or something. I’ll probably be feeling better tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He pulls you into a hug and rests his chin on the top of your head. “Get lots of rest tonight Sweetheart because I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow to pick you up so we can go over some stuff before Ms. O’Donnell’s test. I miraculously have a C and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Alright, bye Eds.”

He doesn’t show up the next morning, at least not while you’re still home that is. When it started to get a little late and you knew that if he was going to show that you’d be late you just got a ride from Steve since Robin was running late herself. You’re not sure why Eddie didn’t show, but you do know that you didn’t get a phone call or anything from him like you normally would if something came up. And later when you’re talking to Robin outside of the school when Eddie's van pulls into a spot with a screech and then he and Ember climb out of it you can’t help but feel like your greatest fear of losing Eddie’s attention because someone else lit up the room is coming true.

“Hey, don’t worry about it okay? I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this right? I mean Eddie’s almost always attached to you, there’s no way he would ditch you for some chick who dresses like him.” Robin tries to calm you down as if she knows the thoughts swimming through your head. You quickly look away from your best friend as his head swivels around trying to spot you.

“I’m gonna head to class Robs, go over some more notes. I’ll see you later.” You rush into the school hoping to avoid Eddie and Ember for now.

“Hey, you weren’t home when I swung by to get you.” Eddie says as he sits next to you. You glance up at him from your notes.

“Oh, I got a ride from Steve because Robin was running late and I wasn’t sure if you were still coming. I didn’t want to risk being late for the test.”

“Sorry about that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I slept in a little later than I wanted to and then as I was on my way out the door Ember called because her car was having trouble starting, I’m pretty sure her battery’s dead.”

“It’s fine Eds, I made it on time didn’t I?” You send a fake smile his way before turning your attention back to your notes.

“Hey speaking of Ember I’m gonna start teaching her how to play Dnd today after school so I might have to move movie night back a bit. You could come with me if you want.”

“Oh, that’s fine Eddie. Robin and I are gonna go to that new music store after school before her shift anyway. I’ll just hang out at Family Video till she’s done.” You shrug nonchalantly even though Eddie basically canceling movie night, which you know will end up happening because he gets so into Dnd, makes you feel completely awful.

“I can pick you up from there on my way over from Embers because I’ll have to pass it anyway?”

“We can just postpone Eds, really it’s fine. I’ll probably just listen to whatever new albums I get or maybe go over Robins.” You shoot him another fake smile before turning towards the front of the room.

“Okay.” Eddie wants to say more, figure out why you’re so adamant on just canceling when he just wanted to come over maybe thirty minutes later but Ms. O’Donnell is starting to hand out the tests and you have your game face on. 

The two of you don’t hang out Saturday or Sunday either. Eddie called to tell you that he wouldn’t be over Saturday because he didn’t actually teach Ember much of anything when he was over so you told him you couldn’t hang out Sunday because you were picking up a shift and then immediately called Robin and asked her if you could come into work then. And then on Monday you don’t even bother sitting next to Eddie for very long at lunch, moving to sit in between Dustin and Mike as soon as they show up. He asked where you were going when you stood up but you had held up your walkman and told him you promised Dustin you’d show him the new AC/DC album. You’re not even that shocked when Eddie doesn’t call you that night like he normally would. He was probably at Embers not teaching her how to play because when you asked him if she’s catching on he gets all shy about how he’s barely gotten her to create a character.

“I don’t think I’m gonna go to Hellfire tomorrow.” You admit to Robin in gym on Tuesday causing her to gasp.

“Y/n are you feeling okay? You never miss it, you love that silly little game too much.”

“I know but I think everyone would just have a better time if Ember took my place this week. And if it works out she can have it the rest of the year, I’m sure I can play with the kids when their friend Will finally finishes moving back.”

“I think you’re being a little dramatic. I mean leaving Hellfire? You can’t be feeling that left out can you?”

“Garreth, Jeff, and Adam don’t talk to me as much anymore and Eddie’s been canceling plans to hang out with her.”

“No, don't do that, you canceled the plans on Sunday before there could even be plans.”

“Because I need to start distancing myself now before he inevitably gets completely tired of me like everyone else I’ve ever tried to be friends with.” You throw your hands in the air as you pace in front of her before stopping and turning your whole body to face her. “Except for you of course.”

“Yeah you’re stuck with me forever which means you’re also stuck with Steve forever. We’ll be the three amigos. And you know what, being stuck with Steve means you’re also stuck with all the rugrats because he’s like their mom or something.” You laugh and bring her into a hug.

“You always know how to cheer me up, Robs.”

“Where’s your Hellfire shirt?” Eddie asks when he sees you at lunch on Wednesday. He hadn’t seen you till then since you got a ride with Steve again and you didn’t have any classes together that day but the short sleeved shirt you had on instead was the first thing he noticed.

“Oh, I’m not coming tonight.”

“What?” All conversation at the table goes silent as the guys all stop what they’re doing and look at you. 

“Something came up and I can’t come.”

“Y/n we can’t play without you, you’re one of our strongest players. We’re supposed to go up against the bad guy tonight.” Garreth says slumping in his seat at the thought of you not being there.

“Yeah, we need your lucky nat twenties.”

“You don’t even have a sub.” Eddie points the pretzel stick he was eating at you.

“I do though, Ember could take my place tonight.”

“What?” The girl in question looks shocked. “No, I couldn’t.”

“Of course you could, Eddie’s been teaching you how to play and once you start it’ll all come naturally.” You reassure her before your eyes catch onto Lucas making his way to the basketball table. “I’ll be right back. I need to ask Lucas something.”

“Henderson, Wheeler, what do you know about Y/n not coming to Hellfire tonight?” Eddie leans towards the two boys as they sit down. They share a look as if asking the other if they should tell Eddie before Mike spits a cover story out.

“She’s going to some party with Steve and Robin I think.”

“So she’s ditching us for Harrington?” Dustin can see the hurt in his friend's eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s mainly for Robin, she was the one to invite her. Y/n and Steve aren’t even that good of friends.” He nervously chuckles and hits Mikes leg for the stupid lie he came up with as Eddie leans back in his seat watching you laugh with Lucas.

“I can excuse it for Robin. What do you say Ember, you ready to jump in and play?”

“Oh, uh I guess so.” She blushes knowing she’s not going to be any good at this.

Hellfire doesn’t last very long that night, Ember sucks and it’s like she didn’t listen to anything Eddie had told her about the game previously and all anyone could do was complain that you weren’t there. So Eddie ended the meeting an hour into it, dropping the kids off at their homes before making his way to your house hoping to catch you coming home later. He’s a little shocked to find your bedroom light on indicating you’re home already since it’s so early. After not getting an answer knocking on the front door he climbs up to your window. You jump at hearing it slide open and quickly sit up from where you were lying on your bed.

“Well well well look who isn’t out there partying tonight.” Eddie climbs through your window. 

“Eddie? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at Hellfire?”

“We had to stop early, pretty sure we’re just gonna start where we left off last week again next week because we barely made any progress.”

“Oh.”

“What are you doing here? Avoiding me some more?”

“I’m not avoiding you.” You scooch yourself off of the bed to walk past him and shut the window.

“Yes you are and you haven’t been yourself lately either so what’s been going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about Eddie. So you don’t even need to pretend okay?”

“What? Y/n I-” 

“I know you’re getting tired of me okay! I know that now that Ember’s around I’m nothing new and you’re all going to move on and leave me behind because that’s what always happens. When there’s not anything exciting about me anymore and a new face shows up people leave me in the dust and I can feel all of you starting to do that.” You wrap your arms around yourself and step away from Eddie.

“Tired of you?” His voice is full of disbelief as he watches you and hesitantly steps forward. “Y/n, Sweetheart, I could never be tired of you. Everyday with you is like an adventure.” He takes another step and gently holds onto your wrists to pull them away from your body. “Everyday it’s like I discover a new facial expression from you, a new smile, I get a new song to listen to, a new movie to watch on repeat because you go through favorites the same way Dustin goes through pudding cups.” He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs brushing away stray tears. “You’re my favorite person Y/n and I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world, I love you.”

“You love me?”

“Yeah, I do. Hell I’m shocked you haven’t figured it out already because apparently it was obvious to everyone else. I mean I could barely even teach Ember how to play the damn game because I kept talking about you. She asked me like twelve times if I was sure we weren’t dating.” You laugh at his words, turning your head to kiss the palm of his hands.

“I love you too.” The two of you smile at each other as Eddie rests his forehead on yours.

“Just so you know the guys wouldn’t stop complaining about you not being there tonight. Jeff literally would not stop looking at Ember when she had to make decisions and going ‘Y/n would do this’. You should’ve seen them when she got Adam killed.”

“She didn’t?” You gasp shocked at the thought.

“Oh but she did, she started a fight by accident not even thirty minutes in.”

“That’s it, if she still wants to play after tonight I’ll teach her since you’re apparently incapable.” He rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless happy to see you back to being your teasing self.

“Whatever now show me this AC/DC album Dustin keeps raving about.”

Eddie Taglist: @starbxcks​ @phluffybunny-blog​ @sadbitchfangirl @notbeforelong​ @kenzi-woycehoski​ @celestialsxturn​ @daisyellsong​ @urmomashleyyy​ @ofherscarlettwitchways​ @munsonswhore86​ @katsukis1wife​ @violet-19999​ @navs-bhat​ @that-chick212​ @dixontardis​ @bubsonnobx​ @ruinedbythehobbit​ @pikapickabitch​ @emotionaldreamer​ @kodakoalabear @chaoticevilbakugo​ @thatsamegirl​ @fromasgardandback​ @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker​ @fangirl199812 @greenclues​ @isshecrazyorissheclever @rockchickrebel​

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (1): Suspension (Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro, 5k)

series synopsis: You are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. Gojo does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: One of your favourite students has been suspended for fighting, and Gojo has palmed off the meeting with his guardian to go through all of the paperwork and facts and conditions on you. “Don’t worry,” Gojo says. “It’ll be Megumi’s sister, she always takes care of this kind of stuff!”. Gojo is wrong.

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. dom/sub dynamics, light fearplay and predator/prey elements. piv sex.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)

1.

“I’ve got all these other parents to deal with,” Gojo whines at you, pushing the papers into your hands. “And I hate paperwork, and I don’t have time to meet with Megumi’s family today – hell, if it were up to me, the kid wouldn’t even be suspended! Those guys had it coming!”

Gojo is not a very good teacher. Both of you know that – no matter how justified – violence never solves violence. Gojo, you think, would let these kids fight it out in an arena instead of solving things like an adult. You heave a large sigh as you look down at the papers detailing Megumi Fushiguro’s three-day suspension for fighting during school hours.

You’d seen Megumi before he’d gone home. He hadn’t had so much as a scratch on him; his face set in a frown, his arms crossed, his eyes downcast. You’d sighed at him and asked him if he was alright, and he’d shrugged.

He’s not a very talkative boy at the best of times, and you suppose that the suspension and the fight and the mini uproar it had caused in the school aren’t helping be any more verbose. You’d said goodbye to him and said that you hoped he thought about what had transpired today, your heart aching a little bit that you couldn’t be any more help to him.

You’d seen the three boys Megumi had got into a fight with, too. They had not gotten off so scot-free – they were bleeding noses, scraped cheeks, bruised eyes. At the very least, you don’t think any of them will get on Megumi’s wrong side again.

Gojo has to meet with all three of their parents tonight to give them the full story of why their children are so roughed up and what’s being done about it; a position that’s been doled out to him, you’re sure, because Principal Masamichi blames him for the incident and is punishing him. You can’t deny that seeing Gojo actually get punished for something is nice, but--

“Won’t they be mad to see me instead of you?” You ask him, biting your lip. “I mean . . . you’re his teacher. I’m just your aid.”

“Oh,” Gojo’s eyebrows rise behind his glasses. “No, it’ll be Megumi’s sister who’ll come, she’s a sweetheart! She’ll nod at you and say mournfully that she’ll talk to him and you’ll give her the paperwork, and that’s all – job done! Honestly, if I could palm this off on you and talk to Tsumiki instead, I’d do it in a heartbeat--”

“This is your job,” you tell him, exasperated, and he laughs wide and open. You’re not really supposed to get like this with him – if he were any other teacher, you’re sure that the exasperation and sighing and half-snapping you do would have had you thrown out of their class – but Gojo treats your irritation with him as if it’s the funniest thing that has ever happened. “You’re supposed to be good at dealing with this kind of thing!”

He shrugs.

“You’ll be fine!” He tells you, again. “Honestly, this isn’t the first time this has happened with Megumi and it won’t be the last. That kid’s got a right hook that could knock out an elephant!”

You do not ask him how he knows this. Asking too many questions of Gojo is always flirting with danger; you never know when his mouth will flash into a grin and you’ll suddenly be barraged with a flood of words and stories that don’t quite make sense and never seem to have a concrete end. But you can’t resist one last question – just in case it comes up. After all, it seems that Gojo has spoken to Tsumiki enough times for him to at least kind of know her--

“His sister?”

Gojo looks at you, and for a moment the shroud of capricious energy lifts from him, and he seems entirely serious. You’ve noticed this particular change in him only a few times – and often, those times have been about the more difficult backstories of students.

“His father isn’t around very often,” he says, eventually. “He’s some kind of something or other, Megumi never really says, but whatever he does, there’s a lot of travelling involved. Tsumiki’s his older sister – she’s twenty one, and she’s been more of a parent to him than it seems like his dad has.”

No wonder Megumi always seems suspicious and tired of Gojo. Something about his flighty nature probably strokes the back of Megumi’s psyche, where annoyances about an absent father are kept. You sigh, turning away and shaking your head to rid yourself of the idea of psychoanalysing the students.

“Alright,” you say wearily. “I’ll talk to Tsumiki.”

2.

You’re nervous as you set up for the meeting. You know Gojo had said that this would be easy, that Tsumiki was very sweet and would probably apologise to you for Megumi being a problem – but still! This is the first time you’ve ever met any of your students’ guardian figures in any capacity. You feel kind of bad that it had to be for this kind of news, actually – ordinarily, you like Megumi a lot. He’s very intense and serious and clever, and you think that he has a bright future ahead of him when the trials of being a twelve year old boy finally are over – but this meeting isn’t for saying things like that. This meeting is for giving details of the three day suspension that Megumi has gotten for – you check the paperwork again – fighting three boys by himself on one of the sports courts, making them bleed and . . . breaking one of their arms? No wonder Gojo had seemed so miserable at the thought of meeting with the victims’ parents.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, making sure that it still sits as neatly as you’d arranged it that morning. You check the clock to see you still have two minutes before anyone is due – you discreetly check your lipstick in a compact mirror (yesterday you’d had it on your teeth and you hadn’t realised until Mai had pointed it out with a laugh in her voice), smooth out your pencil skirt, tug at your stockings to make sure they’re pulled up and not wrinkling about your ankles . . .

And then, you wait.

The clock is straight across from you, so you’re able to see as Tsumiki is five minutes late, and then ten minutes late, and then fifteen. The tick-tock echoes in the room as your leg bounces against the floor, anxiety making you want to gnaw all of the carefully applied lipstick off of your mouth. From what Gojo had said, this doesn’t sound like Tsumiki at all – you’re just about to give up and pack all of your things away, figuring maybe she’d called into the office to say she couldn’t make it and telling you had been neglected, when the door slams open.

You rush to your feet, your sensible heels clacking on the ground.

“Miss Fushi--”

Your voice peters away.

The person stood in the doorway is, you’re certain, absolutely not Tsumiki Fushiguro.

For one thing, it’s a man. For another thing . . . well. You’re not entirely sure that a man with that expression on his face would ever be described to anyone as a ‘sweetheart’. Your frightened eyes linger on him for another moment, really taking in the broad shoulders and the muscles and the hair falling over his face, the dark, green eyes that are glaring at you like you’ve interrupted something very important. There’s a scar by his mouth that you also do your best not to stare at, just in the same way you avoid staring at how the form-fitting t-shirt he’s wearing clings to a muscled abdomen.

“It’s Mr, actually,” he says, which seems absurd in the face of him, standing there. He raises one eyebrow at you. “You were expecting my daughter, right?”

(You don’t know it, but Toji Fushiguro has gotten a read on you in less than a moment. He’s seen the wide eyes and the pretty mouth and the neatly appointed outfit, the pencil tucked behind your ear, the slightest tremble faced with his imposing presence – the fear as you’d seen the scar and the smoulder and the body. You’re adorable.)

“I . . . uuh--” Your cheeks are hot. You nod, weakly, and he walks into the room proper, the door swinging shut behind him with a deafening click. There’s danger in every one of this man’s movements, like a wolf who has finally cornered a little rabbit. You are feeling inexorably like prey, at this moment in time.

“I was expecting a man,” he says, shrugging. He sits at the chair in front of Gojo’s desk, pulled up just for him. He looks huge in the classroom; his shoulders too wide, his biceps bulging from the sleeve of the shirt. You don’t think this man was intending to be in a school classroom right now. “I guess you’re not Mr Gojo, huh? Gotta say,” he shoots you a grin that’s dangerous, everything about him is threatening. “I much prefer this development.”

“Oh,” you’re blustering, and it’s so cute. You sit back down in the chair with a quiet displacement of air, agitation in your fingers as you rake through the papers on the desk. Said desk is incredibly messy; Toji doesn’t think it’s yours. He ought to feel mad that they’ve palmed him off on some little assistant who’s probably not even fully qualified yet – instead, he’s watching your hands trembling and your teeth nibbling on your pretty mouth. “Y-yes, G-Gojo’s dealing with the parents of the other party--”

“My kid got into a fight, yeah?” He asks. “Decked ‘em pretty good, from what I heard.” You wince at his words, and that’s cute too.

“Megumi’s a good boy,” you say. “He’s just . . . got his own sense of justice, I think.” You look down at the papers, and your eyes seem to focus, back in a more comforting zone. “He’s been suspended for three days, and when he comes back, he’s on probation.”

“What’s that mean for him?” Toji asks, promptly, though something about the way he says it suggests to you he doesn’t really care. There’s a lightness, an airiness in his tone that sets you all off-kilter.

“It just means we’ll probably keep an especial eye on him. He’ll get a report that’ll need signing off on at the end of every period, someone will check up on it--” You see one of Gojo’s scrawled notes in the margin of the paperwork. You wince. “I’ll be in charge of it, actually. Making sure everyone’s happy with his behaviour for a few weeks--”

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

The question makes you jump. You’re like a doe in headlights, looking up at him. You blink slowly.

“I—I don’t think that’s an appropriate question, Mr Fushiguro,” you say, prim. That’s cute, too. He likes breaking prim and proper things like you. “I’m—I’m doing my training. I’m working as an aid here for a year, and then I’ll be qualified to be in charge of my own class.” There’s a hint of pride in your words, there.

“Toji,” he says. “That’s my name. You haven’t gotta call me ‘Mr Fushiguro’. I’m not tryna’ be pushy,” but he’s inched forward. His elbows are resting on Gojo’s desk, in front of you – he rests his chin on his folded hands, sharp eyes regarding you as if you’re something he wants to devour. “Y’just look tense.”

“This is the first time I’ve met a student’s parent,” you admit, though the minute it’s left your mouth you’re regretting it. Like you’re admitting to some kind of weakness. This close to him, you can see there’s a dark red stain on one of his wrists, like dried blood. Your stomach is tying itself in knots. It’s not helping that his forearms are so big, ridged with muscle.

“That so?” His eyes gleam. “What d’ya think of me?”

You don’t actually need to answer him. He can see it in the way your eyes keep nervously skimming over him. The way your lips are shining in the light. The bob of your throat as you swallow.

“Mr Fushiguro--”

“I told you to call me Toji,” his voice is almost mocking. You watch him lean over the table like you’re somewhere far away from the action – watch his hand reach out and cup your face, calloused thumb brushing your cheek, like you’re a ghost in the corner of the room. His palms feel like they’re burning hot. “You’re tremblin’, little lamb.”

You had thought you’d felt like a rabbit – shy, ready to run at any moment. But the moment his hand is on you, you’re docile – too scared to scamper away. You suppose you are like a lamb, staring a wolf straight on in the face, too stupid or too pliant to use your common sense and run.

“I . . . I shouldn’t,” you say, voice trembling just as much as the rest of you. Toji’s smirk hasn’t left his face. You’re saying you shouldn’t, but he just bets if he reached further down and unbuttoned your blouse, your nipples would pebble for him – he just bets there’s a wet stain on your underwear, right now. He can always tell when someone’s turned on by the idea of playing with fire.

“I wouldn’t mind spendin’ a few weeks with you in charge of me,” he muses, and then chuckles humourlessly, correcting himself. “Sorry. Lemme rephrase that. I’d rather be in charge of you, but--”

Oh, he sees that. The little flash in your eyes, an imperceptible contract of your shoulders. If you weren’t behind the desk, he bets he’d have seen your thighs press together too. Girls like you are just so fucking predictable, and he loves it every single time. There’s just something that’s so much fun about breaking them – making them submit, admit that him being so close with the scent of something-that-might-be-death clinging to him turns them on like nothing else. Your attempts at being haughty and polite and proud have just made the stirring between his thighs harder to ignore. You’re such a cute, neat, demure little thing – by the end of this meeting, he’s going to have his way with you, you bet.

“M-Mr Fushiguro,” you say, trying to wrest back control of yourself – honestly, he’s pissed you aren’t listening to him, but the title’s kind of endearing. You’re trying so hard! Pity you’re going to lose all of your manners when you’re bent over this desk with his cock inside you. You haven’t even moved your face away from his hand. “I-I have to give you these papers.”

He stands up, pulling his own touch away from your cheek. Stretches. Your eyes are drawn to the brief expanse of his stomach, just above his trousers – the dark line of hair leading down to . . . Oh, God. You shouldn’t have thought about that. The grin on his face is cocky, and you know that he knows you were looking.

“I’m just gonna throw ‘em in the trash, sweetheart,” he says to you. “Now. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, yeah?” He steps closer to you. You totter to your feet, half-unsure, half driven by the low ache between your legs and the thrum of desire that’s been reverberating through you since the moment he’d carelessly thrown out how much happier he was to see you than Gojo. You have to tilt your head up a little when he comes closer. You’d thought you realised how massive he was when he’d walked through the door, but that’s nothing compared to how his size seems to dwarf you. Every unkind thought you’ve ever had about your body or your face seems to have gone out of the window as his heated green gaze hungrily drinks you in. You know it’s the stare of some predator who’s going to devour you, and you still feel transformed. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand idly comes to the top of your blouse buttons, a finger brushing the place in your throat where your pulse is beating its unsteady rhythm.

“Whaddya say, little lamb?” He grins down at you. “Gonna let yourself be caught by the big bad wolf?”

You’re supposed to be telling this man about his son’s misbehaviour, giving him all of the paperwork that Gojo had thrust at you, getting him to say he’ll talk to his kid and try and make sure that it won’t happen again. You shouldn’t be tipping your head back further, letting his fingertips lodge dangerously in the hollow of your throat, flirting with the place where your windpipe is. You shouldn’t be breathing out, all of your pretty prissiness and good morals and pride disappearing where you stand in the face of one of your students’ really hot dad.

“Yes,” you breathe.

And Toji wastes no time.

3.

He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning your blouse; just drags his hand down, and the buttons pop off, scattering on the floor. You gasp at the show of strength, and Toji is still grinning, clearly enjoying that you’re admiring him. His hand pulls at the fabric, until your breasts are fair falling out of it, the blouse wrestles off your skin.

“You’re wearin’ something like this at work?” He asks you, giving a tug to the gore of your bra. You hadn’t done enough washing this week, and the one you’re wearing is all filmy white lace. “Almost like you knew I was comin’ huh?” His grin is crooked. You tremble as you reach behind you, undoing the clasp – and for that, you get a murmur of ‘good girl’ that has your knees turning to jelly.

He whistles as the bra drops from you, his gaze admiring. He takes in the spill of your breasts, the little peaks of your nipples. He takes handfuls of them, squeezing them in his big hands, his fingertips digging in so painfully you can imagine that you’ll have bruises in the shape of his fingers tomorrow. The idea doesn’t disgust you.

He lowers his head to kiss you. He’s not gentle with you for a moment – his teeth immediately nip at your bottom lip, kissing you hungrily like you’re the first taste of sugar for a man who’s lived on nothing but bread for months. His tongue licks at your lips, begging entrance – dancing against your own when you helplessly open those same lips, demanding in the exact same way Toji is.

He pinches your nipple between thumb and forefinger, delighting in how quickly the bud hardens. He rolls it between them, toying with it, enjoying the soft noises you make that get caught in his mouth. If he wasn’t kissing you, he thinks, you’d be bleating like a lamb right now. Huffing and whimpering. When he finally gets his cock in you, he’ll have to remember to clap a hand over your mouth so you don’t attract too much attention.

Your other nipple is given the same treatment, hot lightning bolts of pleasure ricocheting from the touch of Toji’s calloused fingers to the spot between your legs. You’re grateful for how solid Toji is – if he were any less so, you’re sure you’d be buckling over where you stand.

He pulls back with a final, marking nip to your lower lip, almost hard enough to make you bleed. You whine, and a dark chuckle spills out of his lips in response.

“Toji,” you whimper as he pulls away. You miss the feel of his body pressed against yours like a physical ache. His hands encircle your thighs, pushing you up onto the edge of Gojo’s desk, clever fingers already pushing your tight pencil skirt up so it’s bunched around your waist.

He kind of misses ‘Mr Fushiguro’ now it’s gone, but the sight of your stockings digging into your thighs soon chases the thought from his mind. He guesses your skirt is more than long and tight enough to make sure nobody gets a glimpse, but oh . . . that you’d be walking around all day, like that, with nobody to fuck you silly--

He can’t help but let his hands knead the soft skin, the flesh, his thumbs imprinting so hard in the plush that you squirm. He’s pressing your thighs apart, now – revealing the modest underwear, the soaking wet patch where he can see the outline of your plump labia lips.

With your legs spread, he can smell how turned on you are. Oh, yeah – he knows your type, alright.

“Ain’t you cute?” He says, chuckling. “You really want me to do you over this desk?”

“You can’t leave me like this--” Your voice is reedy, breathy, almost petulant – at another time, he’d make you beg for it. He’d take his time over you. But although the idea of being caught fucking the cute little teacher’s aid is briefly appealing, he doesn’t really want to make a whole load of trouble for himself when his cock is practically begging to be sheathed inside your wet holes. “Please--”

It’s the please that does it. It’s always the ‘please’ that does it for Toji. He chuckles, smirks, crooked grin – all of it feels like it’s mixing together in your mind, your throat very dry as nothing seems to matter right now except the fact that your sex is practically pulsing with how empty it is, and you think that the hot hard stiffness pressing against your thighs would really help alleviate some of that.

“Aww,” he says, fiddling with his zip and underwear, grabbing his cock and giving it a cursory pump just so you can admire the sheer size of him. “Don’t worry, little lamb. I’ll give ya what you need.”

He gets what he wants. Your eyes, as big and dark as the eyes of a doe – the soft choke of breath as you get to see the size of it, so big his own fingertips don’t quite meet. It’s the kind of cock that could ruin you for somebody else – and you’ve had sex before, of course, but you’ve never taken anything quite like that--

“That’s cute,” Toji murmurs, pressing forward, nestling his slick cock-head between your soaking wet thighs. “Wish you could have seen what a picture your face made just then. Afraid I’m gonna tear you in two?”

He might – he might, you think. But you pout at him and Toji’s cock throbs, as he glides the slick glans through the mess of your arousal, wetting himself even further. Your breath hitches, your hips doing a cute little jerk as it brushes your swollen clit. He can’t help himself but swirl the head over it some more, making your breath catch and whine, bleating like a little lamb--

He sinks his hips forward, and your fingers flex on the edge of the desk, knuckles white, at the relentless sear of his cock driving you open. You feel so stretched out, and he’s barely a third of the way in – he can’t help but watch your expression. He always likes to see someone the first time they’re impaled on his cock – the glassy eyes, slack jaw, the pleasure-cum-pain in their faces. He wants to take a picture of you and keep it in his wallet so he can pump one out to the sight of you when he’s on business trips and too busy to go out and find himself a hole to fuck.

“How’s that feel?” He asks you, so soft and low that you barely catch it. Another slow inch. He lets you feel every ridge, every vein, every bump of his shaft. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“F-full—” you gasp.

“I bet,” Toji replies – and then, he bottoms out inside you. His eyes look down to where the two of you are joined; the slick fluid leaking out of you, all heat and needy. “You fit me like a glove.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, at the lewd way he’s looking at your spread open cunt – the way your hole is fluttering around him, the peeking pearl of your clit. He’s studying you like he wants to learn you by heart.

“Head’s up,” he says. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

You’re about to open your mouth, and ask him what he’s doing right at that moment if he hasn’t started fucking you yet – but then, he’s dragged almost the entire length of his cock out of you in one savage thrust and is immediately spearing it back into you, his pace brutal. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back hitting the solid, flat surface of Gojo’s desk so that you’re flat out with your thighs wrapped around Toji’s hips.

If he weren’t so entranced by the feel of your walls fluttering around him, trying to suck him in further and deeper, so tight that you’re basically a vice, he’d grab you by your hair and force you to stay seated whilst he fucked you. But right now, you feel so good that all he can think about is his own release. The wet sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you, the squelch of your arousal and slick making every pump easier and easier. You feel so good. You’re tighter than he even imagined you could be, so good that he kind of wants to take you home and have you take up permanent residence in his bed.

You’re moaning, your back arching with every one of his thrusts – taking it admirably. There’s pain in your moans, yes – he supposes he could have prepared you better, had you come on his fingers a couple of times, if time were not of the essence – but they’re the pained moans of someone who likes to be hurt a little bit.

With every rock of his cock inside of you, he hits some new spot that you’ve never had stoked before, makes the heat and need inside of you swim just a little bit closer to the forefront. You don’t even notice you’re moaning and whining until a big hand slaps over your mouth, rough, hot palm against your lips, smearing your lipstick.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and stay quiet,” Toji says to you, through those savage thrusts of his cock inside of you. “You don’t want your . . . your fuckin’ . . . anyone walkin’ in on you being railed by your student’s dad, do you?” You shake your head, but he feels the throb of your cunt around his cock, the way your walls contract, and he adds it to the store of things he’s learning about you. Always the quiet ones, right? Always the proper ones who look as though they’ve never even seen a cock--

The feel of him inside you is absolutely dizzying, so much and so full that you can no longer think. His cock batters against a certain place in your channel, a textured wall – and before you know it, everything is going dizzy and black and white like exploding fireworks, your chest bursting into heat, your inner walls getting so tight around Toji as you come that he thinks you’ll be the one to fucking break him.

Oh, you’re adorable, creaming on his cock – the slick gush of your arousal around him, the dreamy cast in your eye, the fact he can feel you drooling against his palm. He increases the speed of his own thrusts, chasing his release through the weak aftershocks and smaller pulses of you around him, through the over-sensitive squirming of your cute little cunt, the fact that tears are pooling in your eyes at how much everything is suddenly feeling--

He groans and the hand still clinging to your thigh is suddenly pressing so hard you think he’ll snap your bone, ragged breath;

“Fu—fuuuck, sweetheart, you’re gonna take it all, that’s right, good girl--” in between belaboured, ragged pumps, his cock twitching as he manages to pull out at the last moment and his release spills all over your thighs, luridly glistening wet in the overhead fluorescent lights.

That’s another moment he’d take a picture of, if he could.

He’s not the kind of man who waits around. He gives himself ten seconds, to catch his breath, to admire your plush thighs painted with his come, before he’s tucking himself back into his trousers and zipping zippers and doing buttons. He shoves his hands into his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a second – double checking he’s left nothing of his in the classroom.

Yep. All clear.

He turns to leave, air of cocky confidence back – you only just see the shifting muscles in his back as he turns to go, leaving you where you are. You’re lucky he’s so tall, or you’d probably barely have seen him in front of the door frame (you didn’t even lock the door, anyone could have walked in at any time! You don’t even want to know what Gojo would say if he’d walked in to his aid being fucked like a slut across his desk).

“W-wait,” you say, weakly, still sprawled over the desk with his come cooling on your thighs. You manage to prop yourself up on your elbows, but your entire body feels like it’s just taken a battering. He takes a look back at you from the door, dragging a big hand through his hair, his crooked grin still on his face. You look so pretty like that – all fucked out and messy, the shine taken off of you. “T-the paperwork--”

You’re not sure where said paperwork is. Underneath you, maybe? You hope it didn’t get soaked.

“Told ya’,” he says, dismissively. “I’m just gonna throw it in the trash. Thanks for the fun, sweetheart. See y’around, huh? I should do stuff for the kid’s academic career more often.”

The door slams shut behind him.

[the-iceni-bitch]

53, 65, 100 w/ Nomad Steve?

53) “Is that a tattoo?”

65) “Pull my hair!”

100) “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

Ahh, nomad!Steve with a tattoo kink and a bit of a possessive streak? With hair pulling?

Nonnie, it’s like you came up with this to torment me specifically.

Smutty smut, no minors!!

You groaned as you tried to take off your shirt, your ribs creaking and a jolt of pain shooting up your side where Sam has caught you.

This almost never happened. You were faster than Wilson, and prided yourself on your ability to dodge every strike he tried to land and turn him into a frustrated mess. You thought you could handle him and Nat at the same time but she was so fucking sneaky that her slap caught you off guard and gave Sam the chance to land a solid kick to your midsection that had sent you flying across the mat.

You could still hear him apologizing as you winced, chewing your lip as you tried to assess whether anything was broken.

“Hey Y/N... what the fuck happened to you?”

“Rogers, perfect! I can’t get out of my shirt.” You said, turning to the giant and flapping your useless arm at him as he looked at you with concern.

“Ok, what do you want me to do exactly?” He said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he watched you struggling.

“Just... just fucking rip it off.” You huffed. “I can’t move my arm.”

He grunted as he stepped forward and gripped your shirt in his hands and shredded it easily, smirking at you as you let out a relieved sigh.

“Oh god, that’s it.” You moaned, rolling your shoulder and pressing your palm to your side as you started moving to the freezer to grab an ice pack.

“Wilson finally manage to land a hit?” He asked as he gazed at you, shaking his head when you hissed at the sensation of the ice on your ribs.

“Yeah, but only because Romanoff fights dirty.” You scowled, sinking onto the bench and lying down as you did your best to take deep breaths.

“Yeah, I could’ve told you that.” He said as he sat next to you. “Is that a tattoo?”

“What?” You said before realizing he’d never seen you with this little clothing on before. “Uh, yeah it’s a tattoo.”

“It’s beautiful.” He muttered, his hand reaching out hesitantly as if he wanted to run his fingers over the skin below your breasts but stopped himself at the last second. “What is it?”

“It’s a rosemaling.” You muttered, watching him closely as his eyes raked over the intricate pattern. “Norwegian folk art.”

“Can I see the rest of it?” He asked, his eyes dark as he gazed at you, his fingers still itching to reach for your chest.

“Steve, I’d have to take my bra off.” You mumbled as you chewed on your lip.

You’d never seen him like this. Sure, you’d joked with each other and flirted with no real intention before but this heavy exchange was different. Your breath was coming in shallow little pants and you could feel arousal soaking your panties as he scooted closer to you on the bench.

“That’s fine.” He grumbled, his gaze still tracing the path of the ink where it disappeared below the fabric.

He reached out and tugged at the zipper at the front of your bra, his eyes moving to yours as he drew it down slowly, inspecting you closely for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. You just bit your bottom lip and dropped the ice pack to the floor, your injury completely forgotten as he freed your breasts.

“Jesus Christ.” He hissed, running his thumb over the swirls of ink that ran between and under your breasts, tracing the swell of your tits and making you throb with need as you arched into his hand and let out a moan. “How long did this take?”

“Five hours.” You murmured, trying to focus on his questions as the sensation of his fingers on your skin overwhelmed you.

“God, that’s amazing.” He growled before pulling you into his lap and nuzzling himself into your skin.

You gasped as his tongue flicked out to run over the tattoo, the flat of his tongue tracing the curve of your breast as he followed the pattern over your chest. He groaned as he felt the slightly raised ridges of ink against his lips, his mouth insistent against your breasts as he worshipped the art of your skin.

His arms wrapped around you, pressing you into his face as he worked you over. You tangled your fingers in his hair as his beard scratched at you and he trailed over your ink with his lips and tongue. You cried out when he suddenly laved his tongue over your nipple before sucking it between his lips and making you clench around nothing.

“Fuck, Steve! I’m gonna come!” You whined as he moved to your other nipple and repeated the same process.

His only answer was to growl against your chest and press you into his lap as you swallowed a scream, your grip on his hair growing painful as your pussy fluttered wildly and your whole body shook. He held you tightly as you came down, panting against your chest.

“You have any other ink, sweetheart?” He purred as he finally felt you relax, your breath returning to a regular rhythm while you sank into his lap and he started to press soft kisses up your chest until he was mouthing at your throat.

“Yeah.” You grinned as his teeth scraped over your jaw. “Why? You wanna see?”

“Don’t fucking tease me gorgeous.” He growled. “Where is it?”

“Right leg.” You whimpered as he pressed you against his growing erection.

He moved to cover your mouth with his as he tore your leggings off you, his tongue curling against yours in slow smooth strokes as he laid you down on the bench and ground against you. He pulled away to sit up over you, leaving you breathless and needy as he gazed at your thigh.

His breath hitched as he took in the delicate pattern of vines and flowers that covered your entire leg, disappearing under the fabric of you panties as it moved up your hip. He ripped your panties off and traced over the ink lightly with his fingertips as he ran his tongue over his lower lip.

“Beautiful.” He whispered, taking a beat to gaze at you, your spine twisted to the side as you stared up at him.

You gasped as he ran his hand over the back of your thigh, teasing his thumb over your glistening pussy where it was peeking out from between your legs.

He let out a feral growl and then ripped off his clothes in a frenzy. Your mouth started watering when you got a look at his cock, thick and veiny and you weren’t totally sure you could take all of him but damn if you weren’t gonna give it a try.

He hooked his hand under your knee and spread your legs apart, using his other hand to tease his tip against your puffy lips. You let out an obscene moan as he pushed into you, arching your back even more as he slid his tip into your warm cavern.

“Shit, Steve, keep going!” You whined as he kept pulling you down on his length, your pussy fluttering wildly around his length as he stretched you open, a slight sting accompanying the immensely full feeling af being stuffed to the brim.

He hissed through his teeth when his hips met yours and you started mewling and whimpering like an idiot as you adjusted to him.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight.” He muttered, pulling out of you halfway before sliding back in again at a deliciously slow pace.

He pulled out of you again but this time snapped his hips forward viciously, making you scream. His hands kept running over the tattoo on your thigh as he fucked you, his gaze trained on the tattoo under your breasts as your tits bounced with each thrust of his hips. You whined when he hooked your knee over his shoulder, spreading you open even further as he bent over you and ground his pubic bone against your clit.

“Oh fuck, Steve!” You cried as he did the same thing and you started clenching around him with each push of his hips. “Pull my hair! I’m so fucking close!”

He bent over you and pressed his face to yours, his lips tugging at yours insistently until you opened up to him. His hand gripped the hair at the back of your skull and wrenched your head back as he shoved his tongue down your throat.

“Do it. I wanna feel you come all over my cock.” He murmured against your lips as you sobbed with pleasure.

You shrieked as your entire body went rigid before vibrating around his cock as you squirted all over his abs and your eyes rolled back in your skull.

“Shit.” He growled as he buried his face in your neck, his cock throbbing inside you before he filled you with thick white ropes of his cum, fucking it into you with a series of staggered thrusts as the two of you collapsed against the bench.

“So,” you panted as he smothered you under his body weight. “You like tattoos?”

“Love tattoos.” He murmured, pressing his lips to the hollow behind your ear before sitting up and giving you a sloppy grin.

“Maybe I’ll let you watch when I get my next one.” You sighed as he pulled out of you, aftershocks still coursing through your body.

“That may not be the best idea.” He chuckled darkly as he went to grab a towel, biting his lip when he got a view of his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

You rolled your eyes at him, catching the towel he tossed you in mid-air and running it over the inside of your thighs.

“Well, unless you’re gonna give me the tattoo Rogers, I don’t really see how that’s gonna be possible.” Your ribs were starting to ache again, making you wince.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before Nat came strolling into the locker room like nothing was happening, laughing lightly as Steve dove behind the line of lockers and let out a steady stream of curses.

“Goddamn it Romanoff!” He swore at her while you rolled your eyes and tossed his sweats over the lockers to him. “Ever heard of knocking?”

“Ever heard of not fucking in the shared locker room?” She said with a shrug as you wrapped a towel around yourself and gave her an apologetic shrug. “Hey Wilson! They’re finished, you can finally pee!”

——————————————————————————

A/N: Welp, this has officially killed me. I’m gonna go shower now and cool down. 🥵🥵🥵🥵

[banditoswift]

do you ever think about bakugo and izuku’s whole relationship through the eyes of their parents? the slow but certain shift from best friends to distant strangers? do they know of the bullying? does inko know where deku would get his bruises from every week? did mitsuki know why bakugo would have angry outbursts alone in his room late at night? did they ever know about their loss of each other?

-

it used to be that bakugo would meet deku at his door every day when they were kids. inko would open the door for bakugo to ask if deku wanted to play to which deku would come running through waving bye to his mom as they both excitedly begin talking about their plan for that day.

mitsuki calling inko around sunset to ask her if it’s okay with her if deku spends the night because they both are begging and pleading for a sleepover. since it’s the weekend inko says it’s alright with her. cause it always is okay and always has been.

the double lunches they’d often pack and the dual toy sets cause “i want kacchan to have a matching one with me!” and “deku likes those little oranges so can you put two in my bag please?” and the long after school days out and even longer summers spent together, running around, never home, always coming back with scrapes and bruises but the biggest smiles ever, began to eventually fade

it was inko who noticed first. they were in middle school now and izuku hadn’t mentioned bakugo in a while. and whenever she brought him up he’d smile sheepishly and try to divert the question with a “oh kacchan? he’s doing fine! we’re just both really busy is all” it wasn’t soon later that he started coming home with bruises about once or twice a week. “it’s okay i just fell!” “i hit my arm on my desk on the way out” “i got hit with a ball in gym class today” was always the reasonings. inko never fully believed him, but he seemed fine beyond that, she figured it was normal, cause he used to get bruises from playing as a kid, maybe teens still did too? does he still play like a kid enough to get bruises? does he still have anyone to play or hang out with at all?

it took a bit longer but mitsuki noticed too. “how’s izuku been? havent seen that kid around in a while. you still talk with him?” she mentioned in passing one dinner. Bakugo’s grip on his fork instinctively tighten a bit before he relaxed again and tried to play it all off. “he’s fine. and no not really” beyond that mitsuki has never been able to get more out of katsuki when in regards to izuku. she may not try to butt into her kids life too much, but she knows damn well enough when things aren’t right.

they run into each other at the store one day. mitsuki and inko shoot the breeze, talking about generic life things here and there. ‘things are good, job is fine, looking forward to the holidays, etc etc.’ the topic of their sons get brought up soon there after. “yeah i realized they haven’t been hanging around as much huh? i guess kids just kinda become too busy eventually to keep playing pretend” mitsuki said. “definitely, of course. in fact izuku had mentioned that they both had very busy schedules that prevented them from ever having free time together. i guess it just happens. i’m still worried about them though i hope they’re not arguing or something.” inko replies. “arguing? nah, our kids may not be the best with expressing themselves, but i know one thing, they both mean too damn much to each other to just go about without working out any issues they have. they’ll be okay” after a bit more chatting they eventually said their goodbyes and parted ways. that was the last time in years they would see each other.

izuku and bakugo began to grow even more distant. so much so that inko swore she saw pain in izuku’s eyes whenever she’d ask how kacchan was doing. when asked about izuku, bakugo tended to react with annoyance before calming down and giving his typical “he’s fine i guess.” response.

“how tragic.” both their inko and mitsuki would think. “how tragic for them to have slowly and all so quietly lost something so entirely special in both each other, and themselves.”

[pers-books]

Kate Stewart - according to Big Finish

I’ve finally finished re-listening to all of the Kate Stewart audios to date so, without further ado, I present to you the background info on Kate Stewart provided in said audios. Please note, there are one or two which feature extensive references to the Brig, but unless the conversation pertains to Kate’s background, I’ve not quoted it.

They’re listed according to boxset order and I’ve included the writer of the audio as well as the title. What I’ve learned from this is that Matt Fitton wrote a lot of background material for Kate in the early boxsets and Guy Adams in the later boxsets. 

What I also found interesting is that Big Finish has pretty much ignored the semi-canonical direct to video Downtime (1995) which first introduced Kate Stewart as the Brigadier’s daughter (then played by Beverly Cressman) insofar as BF’s writers have given Kate a much closer relationship with her father.

Vanguard - Matt Fitton

Kate's described by the internal computer security system as UNIT's Chief Scientific Researcher She "Doesn't do labels" She usually skips past Orbit News TV on the way to the movie channel

Power Cell - Matt Fitton

"My eldest is cooking. If I'm lucky there won't be any leftovers." Kate's reason for working late. "There've always been factions who'd have preferred UNIT to remain under military control. Colonel Shindi knows I haven't had an easy ride."

Ice Station Alpha - Matt Fitton

"You're setting me up as a patsy. It's been hard enough working my way up the ranks the last few years. I bet they didn't take much persuasion."

House of Silents - Matt Fitton

[sounds of gunfire] Kate Stewart: How did I do? Josh Carter: Very good grouping, ma'am. You're a natural at this. Kate Stewart: I have put in the practice before, you know. I just thought I might be getting a little rusty. Josh Carter: Keep up these sessions and I don't think you'll have anything to worry about on that front. Kate Stewart: Good! If we're caught out in a combat situation in the field I don't want to feel like the spare wheel. We were lucky to make it through that scrape with Cerberus. Josh Carter: I thought you didn't believe in luck. Kate Stewart: An ability to shoot straight should help keep the odds in our favour. Josh Carter: Shall I set up the targets for another round? Kate Stewart: No, that's enough for today. Paperwork beckons. Now, let's see if I still remember how to disassemble this. Josh Carter: This interest in military hardware is new. I thought 'Science Leads'? Kate Stewart: Oh, it does, Mr Carter. Science just needs to remember to carry a gun sometimes.

Square One - John Dorney

Kate apologises for wearing her pyjamas - she'd just settled down for an early night. Later: "I have an urgent appointment with a hot water bottle I'm very anxious to keep."

In Memory Alone - Matt Fitton

Kate Stewart: Do you know JM Barrie, Colonel? Vikram Shindi: Peter Pan chap, wasn't he? Kate Stewart: Among other things. He also wrote that "God gave us memories that we might have roses in December." [Source: Rectorial Address at St Andrew's, 3 May 1922, in The Times 4 May 1922]

Call to Arms - Matt Fitton

Kate knows first aid Kate Stewart: I don't know if it was the same in your [Benton's] day, but it's not in my nature to leave a man behind.

Tidal Wave - Guy Adams

Kate speaks Spanish well enough to translate an insult directed at her Kate doesn't do hugs - Jo Jones hugs her! Kate Stewart: I'm a pragmatist not a warmonger, Osgood, you should know that

Retrieval - Guy Adams

Kate Stewart: Fine. A small team can go and take a look Osgood: Who do you suggest? Kate Stewart: If it's a research station, Osgood, I think we need our finest scientific minds on it, don't you? Osgood: Oh. Kate Stewart: Well, don't worry, you're only one of them. Osgood: And the other? Kate Stewart: I'll pretend you didn't ask that.

Kate not wanting to kill the dinosaurs in the Silurian research base

Kate Stewart: There's a reason they let me sit in the biggest office. [Reminding Sam Bishop that she's not there because of nepotism but because she’s actually a scientist.]

United - Matt Fitton

Kate Stewart: I like to think I bring diplomacy to the table, not just a gun.

The Dalek Transaction - Matt Fitton

Kate Stewart: You don't know how hard I am to impress.

Invocation - Roy Gill

Kate stayed at Ealdon House for a week when she was a child. She can translate English-Latin and Latin-English on the fly. She was involved with the university newspaper

Game Theory - Matt Fitton

It's implied that Kate's done an advanced driving course

Code Silver - Guy Adams

Kate's had basic medical training on some of the aliens UNIT had in cold storage

Hosts of the Wirrn - Chris Chapman

Kate refuses to destroy the level of the Well while Osgood and Shana are still inside. She later regrets this when the Wirrn swarms the town of Windermere. [Side note: Shindi forgets himself enough to call Kate by her first name when she reveals she's en route to meet the Wirrn Queen. Normally he says ‘Ma’am’ or ‘Ms Stewart’.]

Breach of Trust - David K Barnes

Osgood: Things do seem to go quiet when Kate's not here. Maybe she should go on dates more often. Josh Carter: She's on a date? Osgood: Oh yes. I wasn't meant to say that. Josh Carter: [scoffing laugh] I don't believe it. Osgood: Well, as far as he's concerned it's a date. But for her it's just professional. I think. Josh Carter: Well, who's he? Osgood: Just somebody she's having a not-quite date with Josh Carter: You don't think she'll - you know? Osgood: What? Josh Carter: Tell him what she does? Osgood: Oh, you mean, 'Hi! I'm in charge of a secret international military organisation that deals exclusively in extra terrestrial activity'? Josh Carter: Yeah Osgood: More of a third date kind of announcement, I'd say Josh Carter: If it is a date Osgood: Which it isn't

Richard can't even remember the name of the Private whom he'd been harassing/having a relationship with. Kate's clearly seething quietly. He talks in demeaning terms about the Private, then immediately makes a pass at Kate.

Richard: Have we finished the bottle? Kate Stewart: We have, yes Richard: Should we order another? Kate Stewart: Well, that could be risky. Richard: How? Kate Stewart: I might smash you over the head with it Richard: Sorry? [beeping of Kate's pager] What's that noise? Kate Stewart: Oh, thank goodness. The Earth's in danger. Richard: Eh? Kate Stewart: Richard, Richard, I'd say I'm sorry I have to go, but I'm not, so I won't Richard: Hey, you can't just leave Kate Stewart: Yes, yes I can. The door's over there Richard: [whiny] Hang on, I thought that you and I might - Kate Stewart: Yes, I know you did. Goodbye Richard. Oh, dinner's on me Richard: [whining more] No, wait a second. [She's already walking away] Kate?

She gets accosted by a drunk soon after leaving the restaurant and is irritated at being told to smile because it's not the end of the world.

Kate refuses to make First Contact in a dress as she likes having pockets. She keeps a spare set of clothes in the cabinet in her office

Osgood: But there's always another way! We just have to find it! Kate Stewart: You know we haven't the time for that! Bleating on about it isn't helping anyone. It's - it's 2 in the morning and I'm about to send a mother and child off to their deaths. Now, you can try to make me feel worse about that than I already do, but I really don't know what on Earth you think you'll achieve by it! Osgood: It's not - Kate Stewart: Fair? Of course it's not fair! Osgood: [runs out] Kate Stewart: Osgood!

[Kate's crying quietly on the roof of the Tower when Osgood turns up, having been told by the Colonel where to find her] Osgood: I'm sorry for disobeying you. And for getting Josh involved. I just - I couldn't face the idea of giving in? Kate Stewart: And you thought I could? Osgood: You were doing what you thought was right Kate Stewart: [bitter laugh] Thank you Osgood: As in fact you always do Kate Stewart: Don't patronise me, Osgood. When I give an order I expect it to be followed because sometimes the needs of the many do actually outweigh those of the few even if that means someone ends up dying. And you know you'll remember their faces. Believe me, you will remember them. Osgood: I'm sorry Kate Stewart: We'll talk about it later

Open the Box - Roy Gill

Kate Stewart: I'm open to new ideas, always, but I refuse to go into anything blind

Kate went to holiday camps as a kid: "They did annoyingly upbeat announcements too."

Kate had a "Classical education" and "an abiding hatred of outdoor sports".

She enjoys custard creams.

She lives with the daily fear of losing her team.

Kate Stewart: Regret doesn't bring people back. Trust me, I know.

This Sleep of Death - Jonathan Morris

Warren Calder: The Geneva Convention outlaws torture and I know how much you care about that

Tempest - Lisa McMullin

Kate Stewart: I hate it when it's Us or Them.

The Power of River Song - Guy Adams

Josh Carter: You know Kate, she won't let emotion get in the way

Kate [to Captain Josh Carter]: I’ve kicked down my fair share of doors in this job. It’s my form of Pilates. Chant: Eugh. Miss Stewart. Kate: Don’t call me Miss Stewart. I’m not a governess in a Victorian novel. Chant: Ms? Kate: I’m here to see the Director. Chant: I’m afraid that’s quite- Kate: Let me explain something to you. One would have thought it obvious but I spend a good deal of my time spelling out the obvious to people who get paid more than me, so - Chant: MS STEWART! Kate: Shush, now. Shush. I’ve been awake for three days. I’m fighting a war of attrition with the coffee machine and I’m currently investigating my own death. It is an effort for me not to staple your tie to your desk. Chant: I understand that you’re under considerable pressure but I simply won’t be talked to like that. Kate: Right. [Sounds of a brief struggle] Chant: Ms Stewart! [Followed by sounds of stapling and somewhat heavy breathing as Kate staples Chant’s tie to his desk.] Kate [not at all breathlessly]: I did warn you. Sorry. Was - was that a very expensive tie? Chant: My mother bought it for me for Christmas. Kate: Merry Christmas. [She literally kicks open the door to the Director’s office.]

The Enemy Beyond - Andrew Smith My father was stationed in Edinburgh when I was a little girl

Fire and Ice - John Dorney

Always do what you're best at, I say.

Kate loves a pun: For now, we're going to have to put your plans on ice (after stopping an Ice Warrior from destroying a large chunk of Australia!)

Eleven's Eleven - Lisa McMullin

Kate Stewart [to the voice activated vault]: Hello. My name is Kate Stewart and I've come to rob your vault. Would you mind opening up, please?

The Curator's Gambit - Andrew Smith

Kate Stewart: Wait, is that new? The Curator: Oh no, not new. I rearrange the exhibits from time to time. Kate Stewart: It's a Turner, isn't it? The style is unmistakable. I thought I knew all of his work. Osgood: That's Hampton Court Palace. Josh Carter: What's that doing here? Is it dangerous? Curator: Ooh hardly. It was a Royal commission. Not for public display. It commemorates the Undergallery's original location beneath Hampton Court. Osgood: I didn't know that. Kate Stewart: Elizabeth founded the Undergallery in 1562. The National Gallery wasn't built until the 1830s.

Kate's aware of the optical illusion in Holbein's ‘The Ambassadors' which looks like a smudge from one angle but is clearly a skull from another.

The Curator calls Kate very astute for knowing he wouldn't leave the Arch unprotected.

Kate mentions she knows the Privy Gardens at Hampton Court Palace because she's visited.

The Man From Gallifrey - Andrew Smith

Kate goes with Josh and his rescue party to get Osgood and Jimmy Tan back. She's always prepared to risk herself for the sake of her people.

The War Factory - Lizzie Hopley

Bamberra: Can you ride a horse and shoot? Kate Stewart: Have you met my father? [In fact Bamberra was talking to him very recently.]

Ten Minutes in Hell - John Dorney

Kate refuses to let Varliss of the Vulpreen break her, despite regular whippings. She refuses to tell him anything about Earth's defences. She urges Worrall to try to escape Varliss, encouraging the Vulpreen whom Varliss has enslaved to rebel. She feels survivor's guilt after Varliss shoots Worrall because Kate refuses to tell him what he wants to know. Kate persists in her defiance because she refuses to give up hope, no matter how hopeless things look.

The Sacrifice of Jo Grant - Guy Adams

Kate gives the impression that she occasionally struggles with Jo's tendency to go off on tangents.

Kate Stewart: A few seconds to get clear. If the Official Secrets Act would ever allow my memoirs, that would be the title.

Osgood: If I can figure out the refractive index, I can probably compensate for it. Then we'd be able to see through to the other side. Kate Stewart: Already done. Someone's working from my calculations right now. You're not the only one with a PhD or two.

Kate Stewart: Why did you jump after me [after Kate's pulled through a pocket of temporal instability]? Jo Jones: I was trying to save you! Kate Stewart: One day, Miss Jones, you'll learn you can't save everybody. Jo Jones: Have you? [ouch!] Kate Stewart: I'm sorry, I - I shouldn't be snapping at you. It's just - well -

Kate carries a Mark 17 [pistol? revolver? Unclear]

Kate muses that she's not sure she can bear to speak to the Brig again (while she's in the past). Later she seriously considers it, but is interrupted before it happens. She finally does call him, after prodding from both Jo and the Third Doctor.

Kate's the one to grab Jo from the Time Vortex thanks to the Doctor's meddling. He brings Osgood 'a gadget' to track Jo through the Time Vortex, but Kate's the one to actually grab her and bring her back into their Time.

[ETA: Can’t believe I forgot there was a UNIT story in the first Eighth of March boxset!]

Narcissus - Sarah Grochala

Kate says she's weak and sees monsters in her bedroom, that she's lost in the woods and her dad can't find her. Which is how she overcomes the alien's psychic hold on her. She allows herself to feel weakness and is able to pull out her gun and shoot the mirrors, destroying the alien's power.

Osgood: I just wanted to say how sorry I am about what happened on the ship. It's not like me. Kate Stewart: It's okay. We all have crises of confidence. Osgood: Do you? Kate Stewart: Sometimes. Osgood: But you always seem so calm and collected. Kate Stewart: [weak laugh] Huh, not always. Not inside. But outside appearances must be maintained for the team. Osgood: That takes a lot of strength. Kate Stewart: You know, when I was inside those mirrors I realised something. Jordan's ship wasn't feeding off anything to do with external beauty, it was feeding off confidence, self-belief. It was never about appearance. How could it be? Physical beauty is subjective, but bravery, strength, intelligence - that's not.    

[britishassistant]

What happens if a new villain comes to town and starts tearing shit up? Like a new rival shows up, falls in love with yuu, and kidnaps them before enacting a huge take over the city scheme, will the NRC and RSA finally come together for the same goal? Or would it lead to chaotic in-fighting in their individual attempts to rescue the reporter and save the city/stop this jerk face from showing them up only for yuu to break out just so they can knock them all upside the head?

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“It’s so simple, love.” The villain coos, one hand cupping Yuu’s chin gently to tilt their face up, “Just accept my proposal, and we won’t need to have any nasty accidents where you and the tarmac down there have a...terminal disagreement.”

Yuu glances down at the drop from where they’ve been “tied” to the top of the skyscraper by the metal beams that the supervillain bent around their body like they were rubber. They think they can see a flock of pigeons flapping by below them. “That’s your idea of a threat? Really? Because I’ve heard worse over breakfast. Sorry, but I really don’t think we have the right chemistry to accept marriage to the likes of you.”

The villain pouts, leaning against the tip of the building as if they were a pair of people chatting on the streets far below, and not one hapless captive tied to an antenna and their captor floating with nary a second thought in midair. “Oh c’mon now love. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be—you know that I could do far better with your Daddy’s little league than any of those second-rate bozos crowding around you.”

The reporter’s gaze sharpens, the corner of their mouth curling up in a snarl. “Don’t. Refer to them. Like that. They’re each seven times the supervillain you are, at least. Besides, I’d rather be turned into pancake mix on the pavement than do anything that could advance that man’s little projects.”

The villain tuts, coiffed hair ruffled by the breeze as he leans in far closer than Yuu is comfortable with. “Don’t play hard to get, love. So you’ve got Daddy issues, who doesn’t? It’s no reason to get in the way of progress. Maybe you’ll change your mind if I show you exactly what I can offer...”

Yuu recoils as the villain’s tongue forces its way into their mouth when their lips collide with all the force of a car crash, an invasive writhing thing that makes them gag at how far it pushes in as the villain hums greedily at their taste.

And one that the reporter swiftly brings their teeth down on.

Hard.

“FUCK! Ugh—you foul little bitch!!”

The backhand jars the reporter’s skull even as they brace for it, cutting the inside of their mouth and leaving them worried that if they try spitting out the blood gathering there, they’ll lose a tooth along with it.

The villain huffs, one hand carding through his ruffled hair. His tongue is already whole and unblemished, the last indents of their teeth healing as the reporter watches. “I didn’t want to do this, you know. I would’ve gladly taken you to the altar, and had you screaming in our wedding bed. I could’ve made you happy, if you’d just do what you’re told.”

Yuu sneers. “Frankly, I can’t imagine anything more boring.”

They take cold comfort in the fury that burns in the supervillain’s eyes at that.

“Fine. Fine.” The villain floats away, his eyes glowing that same bright red that melted through the wall to Yuu’s bedroom when they were first taken. “I was prepared to do this the nice way. I wanted to do this the nice way. But if you’re going to be such a little bitch about it, then I can always rely on the old fashioned method of succession.”

The laser beams swipe through the block of abandoned offices four stories below where the reporter is tied up.

The top of the building wavers, then begins to crumble forwards.

The villain says something else, probably something mocking and challenging them to get out of this mess because that’s the kind of cliche line that’s always used here, but Yuu can’t hear him over the whistle of the wind in their ears and the scream torn from their throat as they plummet.

They try frantically tug their arms free as their legs are pulled upwards by gravity, try their damndest to squirm free, but it’s no use, they’re not The Prefect right now, don’t even have the fedora on them, they’re Yuu, just Yuu, just helpless reporter Yuu, who can’t break steel beams with their pathetic powerless normal person strength, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, oh Great Seven, they’re going to die—!

“KING'S ROAR!!!”

There’s a discombobulating moment of freefall as the metal and concrete around them disintegrates into sand.

Then a strong, wiry arm loops around their waist and they’re pinned to a carpet as their rapid descent gradually slows to a stop in midair.

“Need a lift?” They can’t see Snake Charmer’s eyebrows through the mask, but they get the feeling one of them is raised in a wry fashion as he smirks at them.

The reporter lets out a hysterical, shaky laugh that only narrowly escapes becoming a sob, trembling hands seizing onto the two supervillains like they’re lifelines. “Wh-what took y-you so long? Did you ge-get held up in traffic?”

King grumbles, flicking their temple gently as Water Boy laughs gleefully from where he’s steering the carpet. “You could show a little more gratitude, herbivore. Do you know how hard it was to evade all the goody-two-shoes on the way here to save your ass?”

Yuu’s about to reply, when they catch a movement above them out of the corner of their eye.

“INCOMING!!”

Water Boy jerks the flying carpet to the side just in time for the villain to plunge past them fist-first, close enough to see his teeth bared in a furious snarl.

“DRIVE!!” Snake Charmer screams at his lieutenant above the rushing wind as the villain rises back up to try his luck again. Water Boy presses the corners of the carpet forwards and they go into a rollercoaster dive that makes the reporter’s stomach roil in protest.

King unleashes his powers on the two buildings behind them, disintegrating the foundations in hopes that the tonnes of concrete and rebar would be enough to slow the flying brick chasing them. The villain just bursts through the obstacles with nary a broken sweat, and speeds up to the point where Water Boy has to turn the carpet upside down so they don’t get knocked out of the sky.

“Where the fuck is that computer junkie?!?” King yells at Snake Charmer as they draw dangerously close to the road below. “He was supposed to be here hours ago!!”

“How am I supposed to know?!” They can hear Snake Charmer’s heartbeat hammer in his chest from where he’s pinning them to the vehicle in the absence of a seatbelt. “It was the conman who was meant to give him the si—”

Yuu can barely scream a warning in time as the villain looms behind Leona’s head, eyes glowing red and ready.

A rush of flying metal harpies collide with the bastard’s face, effectively pinning him in midair as he struggles to destroy the thousands-strong swarm that obstructs his path to them.

“OPEN FIRE!!” Comes Hermes’ high-pitched cry as a blue beam shoots past them at the center of the robotic maelstrom.

A pair of red lasers rocket out to meet it, almost seeming as though it could push Ortho’s assault back—!

A white-hot streak of lightening descends from the formerly clear sky to where the villain was pinned, disrupting the red eye lasers and allowing Hermes’ beam to make contact.

There’s a hideous scream and the stench of burnt meat.

“We’re coming in too fast!!” Water Boy yells, tugging on the carpet’s tassels until they’re almost vertical. “Ja—I, I don’t know if we’ll slow down in time!!”

Yuu barely hears the curses the other two occupants spit, lunging to try and cover as much of them as they can with their body. Even if they crash, if Yuu can just absorb most of the shock of the landing—!

Small pinpricks of pain latch onto their scalp, their pajamas, the carpet and supervillains beneath them, hundreds of small beating appendages smacking them all in the face as the carpet’s rapid descent slows incrementally.

“Oh boys~?”

Four sets of strong hands seize the front of the carpet, their owners grunting as they attempt to force the carpet’s stop through sheer force. Of course, the continued existence of Newton’s Third Law combined with the reporter’s precarious shielding position means that though the carpet experiences sudden stop, Yuu keeps going at the same high speed that will ensure serious injury once they hit the tarmac.

Or it would do, if they didn’t collide with a solid chest and waiting pair of arms first.

The reporter finds themselves cradled in a nearly crushing grip, their catcher muttering “child of man, child of man,” into the top of their head and a warm thumb swipes over the rapidly darkening bruise on their cheek. The wind picks up around them alarmingly, whipping into a gale.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m okay.” Yuu reaches up to pat Tsunotaro’s head soothingly. “See? Just a few scrapes and a little scare. Give me an ice pack and a shower and I’ll be right as rain.”

Tsunotaro doesn’t look very convinced, but at least the wind drops to more of a strong breeze.

“Oi, let ‘em down, you dumb lizard.” King growls behind the reporter, the rings on his tail clattering as it swishes irritably. “We did all the work of saving them, you don’t get to take the rewards.”

Tsunotaro clutches them closer, getting that stubborn look in his eyes that makes Yuu want to groan in exasperation. “No.”

“Why you—!”

“Now, now children, the world works in mysterious ways.” Batman beams. “I’ve always found destiny draws those it finds most suitable together.”

The reporter rolls their eyes as King snarls in response to that remark and Snake Charmer mutters, “I didn’t know ‘destiny’ was what you called interfering old fools.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Snake Charmer climbs off the carpet and straightens his headscarf. “What’s next?”

There’s a crash as the mass of robots pinning the singed villain about three blocks down the street begins to shift, however unwillingly.

“‘Kay, the ‘save the princess’ team barely cleared the parameters for their part of the mission.” Charon’s floating tablet drifts forward, the sounds of frantic tapping on a keyboard almost drowning out his voice. “Now it’s time for the ‘aggro’ and ‘debuff’ teams to move in, Tsuntaro-sshi, Royal-sshi.”

“Understood. I’ll leave the coordinating of the others to you, Charon.” Royal Flush looks up and raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the tall fae. “Well? Are you coming?”

Yuu could almost swear they hear a small grumble as Tsunotaro finally lets them down out of his grasp. He runs his thumb over their injured cheek one last time. “Sebek, Silver. Defend the reporter as you would me.”

“Yes, Tsunotaro-sama!” The two of them chorus.

Royal Flush shakes his head, then reaches out and squeezes Yuu’s hand once. “If anything happens, Three of Clovers and Howl-san will get you somewhere safe. But this shouldn’t take long.”

“Oi, don’t presume to give orders to my minion, Flush.” King growls, inserting himself bodily between the two of them. His mouth curls up in a smirk as he places a proprietary hand on top of their head. “Besides, I’ll be here, won’t I?”

Royal Flush and Tsunotaro narrow their eyes at him, but their attention is claimed by the sound of metal crashing down the street as the villain shrugs off the rubble, the burns on his arms and face healing rapidly as they watch. His eyes flicker over their motley group, before settling on Yuu with laser-precision.

It’s only the arrow that flies into his shoulder, combined with a second lightening bolt striking him from the blue that keeps that metaphor from becoming literal.

Yuu chokes a little at the pressure on their pajama shirt collar as they’re dragged out of the line of fire. From where they’re crouched behind a car, they can see Tsunotaro and Hermes throwing almost everything he’s got as the bastard, while Royal tries to close the distance without ending up attacked himself. They also catch a glimpse of who they think is Leviathan silently gliding closer through the alleys on the far side of the street.

But the villain just won’t stop getting back up. Despite the fact that anyone sane would’ve given up the moment the green flames were broken out, he keeps coming, no matter how many times he gets thrown back.

And he’s clearly getting closer to the reporter he so desperately wants to kill.

“Now what?” Yuu asks, barely able to hear themselves think over the worried growl rumbling from Jack’s chest.

Charon’s muttering to himself as more of his robots fly by overhead. “Need to pin down the rate of regen, if we can get that and surpass it so the ‘debuff’ team can do their thing before the second wave gets here, but what is it?”

The reporter blinks. Well, taking into account the insult, and the backhand...

“He was able to heal his tongue about...four, maybe five seconds after I’d bitten through it? That’s only a rough estimate though, it may’ve been shorter.” They murmur.

The area around them goes very quiet.

“B-bitten through...?” Water Boy asks, hand coming up to his own mouth with a wince.

Yuu scowls. “That creep put it in my mouth when I did not ask him to. Ugh, I would’ve gone for his balls too, but the metal didn’t let me lift my legs that far.”

They huff for a moment at the unfairness of it. Then, “King, stop grinning at me like that.”

“Like what herbivore?” His tone is the picture of innocence, even if the way he’s eying them is most decidedly not.

Snake Charmer ‘accidentally’ kicks him in the shin as the sound of frantic typing erupts from the tablet again. “Setting the Erinyes to follow up on Ortho’s and Tsunotaro-sshi’s attacks within a three point five second time frame...fwe he he he, let’s see how that mob likes this!”

With the clack of what sounds like an enter key, the robots above them begin divebombing the villain in sequence, deliberately targeting the parts of him injured by Tsunotaro and Hermes’ blows.

One of them sacrifices itself in a kamikaze dive that leaves a bleeding scratch on his arm.

The villain roars, the force of his fury almost knocking them over even with how far away their little group is crouched, turning the lasers on every robot within his line of sight.

Of course, this means he stops paying attention to the three supervillains who have been steadily making their way towards him.

“FAIREST ONE OF ALL!”

“IT’S A DEAL!”

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

The powers hit the villain one after another, his lasers sputtering out with a pained scream. The scratch on his arm doesn’t start healing. Neither does the gash he gets across his face when Poison Queen roundhouse kicks him away with those stilettos of his.

“Was that it?” Leviathan says, his careless facade somewhat ruined by the fact that he wobbles as he begins to levitate. “I must confess I don’t understand what all the tr-trouble was.”

A low whistle by their ear makes Yuu jump. “The bosses can be scary when they wanna be. Remind me never to piss off those three at once.”

The reporter look up to see Ace and Floyd standing behind them. “Ace, wha—where have you been?!”

Floyd giggles and Ace shoots them an evil grin as they chorus, “Sending out party invites~”

Yuu blinks and tries to puzzle out this cryptic phrase, but their attention is swiftly drawn back to the scene of the battle at the sound of manic, unhinged laughter.

“You think you’ve won? You think something like this will stop me?!” The villain cackles, eyes wild and beginning to grow red again despite the way his body tenses and the collar around his neck starts to buckle. “You think that second-rate half-hearted hacks like you can stop someone like me?!? I am your superior!! You all will bend the knee once I snap that ungrateful little bitch’s neck and take my rightful place as head of the League!!! I’ll decimate every last one of those pathetic, moronic heroes who pollute this city like a fungus!! And then, oh , and then I’ll make every last one of you who thought they could get away with this pitiable attempt to stop me—”

“Us? Here to stop you?” Poison Queen tilts his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re supervillains.”

“Stopping the likes of you.” Leviathan proclaims triumphantly, “Is their job.”

The villain stops.

The villain turns.

Over half the top heroes of the Royal Sword Association lead here by the minions meet his gaze.

“Hello.” Niko Niko Neko says with a wide grin.

Yuu isn’t close enough to hear if the villain whimpers, but they almost wish they were.

Almost.

[ray-ray-writings]

Birthday Bullies-SBI AU Imagine

This is Brother!Technoblade, Brother!Wilbur, Brother!Tommyinnit, and Father!Philza x gn!reader in the SBI inc AU in which you are the youngest of the three. That being said, you and Tommy are in the same grade due to you skipping a grade because you’re so smart and that gets you into trouble because people don’t like people that are different ya know? 

TW: Bullying, like physically, mentally, and emotionally. As well as cursing

Masterlist here

Y/N is being bullied at school. They’re able to keep the secret from her father and brothers for a while. But every cat gets out of the bag eventually.  

Y/N’s POV

Being the youngest in your class is hard. It’s even harder when the age gap is bigger than the usual age gap. My father and my teacher’s realized that my “smarts” were way ahead of others in my grade and together we decided that I might be happier skipping two grades and going into high school at 13. 

At first, I was ecstatic. I would get to take tougher classes but I would also get to be with my older brother Tommy as a freshman and our even older brothers who were seniors. But as time passed, more of the freshman class began to turn on me and began to hate me. Not only did I begin to feel excluded from my classmates, but my classmates began to pick on me. 

It wasn’t too bad at first. Just whispers and snide comments to begin with. But some people got more bold and soon I could barely walk down the hallway without my shoulder being shoved and cruel words spat directly in my face. No matter how hard it got, I refused to tell my brothers. I didn’t want to be a bother to them. I was in high school now, I should be able to fight my own battles… Right? Besides, some of the kids had threatened to beat up Tommy if I even thought of telling my brother’s what was happening. 

Luckily, I usually got home before everyone so I got to let out all of my feelings without having to worry about any of the boys seeing me break down. Techno has theater, Wilbur has music lessons, Tommy goes to Tubbo’s to hang out, and my father, Philza, works until 5. So I was home alone for 2 hours which gave me enough time to break down, cry it out, pull myself together, cover any bruises I may have gotten from the day, and pretend like nothing happened before anyone got home. It was a process I had down to a science. No one knew about my struggles, but that was all about to change. 

It was my birthday. I woke up feeling pretty good. I could immediately smell the breakfast my father was making. I swung myself out of bed, grabbed the outfit I planned on wearing, and went to the bathroom. I quickly did what I needed to do in the bathroom before bouncing down the stairs. 

As I suspected, my father was standing over the stove and all three of my brothers were sitting around the table chatting. At the sound of my footsteps, all heads snapped to me, grins placed on all their faces. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” All four cheered in unison. A matching grin painted my lips, “thank you!” I beamed. Philza quickly turned off the stove and rushed over to me and scooped me up in a big hug. “I can’t believe my baby is officially a teenager!” Dadza cooed in my ear. I giggled and hugged him back, “If it helps I can’t believe it either.” Philza gave my back a quick pat before releasing me and going back to the stove. 

I sat down in my seat at the table next to Tommy and gave all my brothers smiles. “Here you go sweetheart” Dadza announced, placing a plate filled with my favorite breakfast foods down in front of me. “Thanks Dad!” I cheered, before picking up my fork and digging in. The boys took this as their cue to get up and get their own plates. 

Soon everyone was sitting around the table, eating and enjoying each other’s company. “Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get the day off and the boys still have their after school activities that they can’t get out of and so you’re still going to be home for two hours by yourself before we can all get home to celebrate” Dadza explained in an apologetic tone. Although I was a little disappointed, I understood. “That’s okay. Like you said, we can just celebrate when everyone gets home. No worries,” I told him with a smile. Dadza returned my smile, “Thanks for being so understanding kiddo.” “No problem dad!” 

We finished breakfast and then it was time to head to school. Wilbur drove us in the car that Dad had gotten him when he got his license. Techno also had a car and a license, but he hates driving and so he forces Wilbur to drive everyday. Once we got to the school, the four of us said our goodbyes to each other before heading our separate ways. I stopped by my locker and put my books away before heading to my first period. 

Surprisingly, the day passed very easily. Sure there were still a few shoves and words thrown my way, but nothing too major which I was really happy about. It seemed like the universe was giving me a break because it’s my birthday today! I should have known it was too good to be true. 

The last bell rang releasing us from the hell that we call school. I quickly made my way to my locker, grabbed everything I needed before walking toward the exit. I had almost made it out of the building when I heard the cruel voice of Chad, one of my main bullies, call my name from behind me. I silently prayed that if I just ignored him he would get bored and move on… It did not work. 

“Hey!” The same aggressive voice called, this time a forceful hand finding my wrist and forcing me to turn around. “I’m talking to you bitch. When I’m speaking I expect you to listen” His hand tightened around my wrist causing me to whimper. I knew that the skin was going to bruise and it was going to hurt a lot. The sound of me in pain caused the smirk on Chad’s face “Aw. Does a little pressure hurt the baby?” Chad mocked, tightening his hand even more causing even more shooting pain to send through my wrist. “Please let me go” I begged, trying to tug my wrist from his iron grip, I made no progress. “No. I don’t think I will. You need to learn your lesson and learn to listen to your superiors when they’re speaking to you,” Chad spit, glaring at me with so much hatred in his eyes. I let out another small whimper, but didn’t say anything else. 

Chad smirked at my demeanour, “Good… Now I’m feeling particularly generous today, so I’m going to let you go. But remember this the next time I call you, you better respond immediately.” Chad let go of my wrist and I was about to respond, but I suddenly felt a force on my shoulders, shoving me to the ground. My hands shot out behind me and I felt the skin on the palms of my hands break as they met the ground. Chad’s obnoxious laughter rang out loudly as he walked away, leaving me on the ground. 

I had to take a few moments to compose myself. I couldn’t cry here. I couldn’t risk another person walking by and seeing me lying here crying. I had to be strong until I got home. I carefully pushed myself up, hissing at the feeling of the pressure on my scraped palms. Once I was up, I carefully inspected my palms and wrist. Small rivers of blood flowed from the open wounds. I slowly clenched my fists closed, trying to keep the blood in. My eyes caught the wrist that Chad had gripped, it was extremely red and small bouts of purple were already appearing in the shape of fingerprints. I took a deep breath before walking out of the school and toward home. 

It’s days like today that I’m very grateful that I’m home for a few hours by myself. I didn’t have to explain anything to anyone and I could be my happy self by the time everyone gets home. It was hard to keep the tears at bay on my way home, but I managed. 

A sigh of relief left my lips as my house appeared in my vision. I practically ran to the front door, carefully grabbing my key and unlocking the door, careful to not get any blood on the door or my key. I rushed into the house and slammed the door behind me. Once I was sure the door latched, I allowed myself to break down. The tears that I had forced to remain in my eyes finally flowed freely down my cheeks as sobs escaped my lips. I threw off my bookbag and allowed myself to sink into the door and slide down to the ground as the sobs wracked my body.

I was so absorbed in myself that I didn’t hear someone calling my name. I couldn’t hear them ask what was wrong. I didn’t even know they were there until arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders. I immediately jumped in surprise and my eyes snapped to whoever was grabbing me. Through my blurry vision, I could make out the outline of my father’s extremely concerned face staring at me. “What are you doing home?” I blubbered, immediately trying to dry my tears to try and hold on to some form of dignity. Dadza looked up causing me to follow his gaze. There I found all three of my brothers standing there as well, staring at me. Of course. Of course this just had to happen. “Do you remember this morning when I told you I couldn’t get the day off?” I let out a sniff and nodded at the question, of course because had he not, we wouldn’t be in this situation. “Well I lied to you to surprise you. I pulled the boys out of school early and they’ve been helping me set up your birthday surprise… But that doesn’t matter, what happened Y/N? What’s wrong?” 

I couldn’t tell him. I can’t. They’ll hurt Tommy. I cleared my throat and shook my head, bringing a hand up to wipe my face. “Nothing… Nothing. I’m fine, forget about it.” I tried to brush the concern off. But Dadza’s gentle hand grabbed my hand and it was then I remembered the blood running from my hand and the finger shaped bruises forming. Dadza examined my hand, “Wilbur go get me the first aid kit please. Techno an ice pack. Tommy, please go finish setting up,” Dadza softly commands my three brothers before turning back to me with a raised eyebrow, “You’re fine?” he asked with a slightly mocking tone. I knew I had been caught. 

The tears began welling in my eyes again. After a moment of silence I managed to give an answer, “No” I croaked out, “I’m not fine.” Tears began falling from my eyes once again. Dadza instantly pulled me into him once again and began rubbing my back again. “I’ve got you honey. I’ve got you.” He soothed as I sobbed in his shoulder. As I cried, I could feel someone take my hands and begin to take care of them. A small sting running through them before bandages carefully wrapped around them. A cool presence also settled on my throbbing wrist. 

I don’t know how long I cried for. But I needed it. I broke down at least once every week, but crying to someone feels so much better. The tears finally stopped and the sobs turned into sniffs. “Feel better?” Dadza asked softly in my ear. I nodded, my face still in his shoulder. “You want to tell me about it now?” I pulled my face from his body and looked around the room. Techno and Wilbur still remained in the room, but Tommy was nowhere to be seen… Just how I want it. 

And so I told him. I told him everything. I told him how hard high school had been for me and how everyone had been so mean to me. I told him what had happened today and what Chad had done. I explained why I was happy to be left home alone for a few hours everyday. How I broke down and patched myself up everyday. And at the end, I explained why I never told anyone. I told them how they had threatened Tommy and how the last thing I wanted was for anyone else to be hurt. 

By the end of my ramblings, Techno and Wilbur were visibly fuming. Dadza was calm on the outside, but I could tell he was pissed too. It took a few moments before Philza spoke, “Tomorrow. I will be going down to the school and having a talk with the principal. There is no reason that this should ever happen to anyone, especially not you. When I met with them, they assured me that you would fit in fine and they would keep an eye on you… It’s obvious they didn’t keep that promise.” I couldn’t help the shiver that was sent down my spine at my father’s dark tone. I knew it wasn’t directed at me, but I had never heard this before and it kind of scared me.

 “And we’ll be sure to take care of Chad tomorrow” Techno glowers, giving Wilbur a small nod. Philza’s head turned to his sons and he gave them a disapproving look. Wilbur holds his hands up in defense, “We promise we won’t do anything that gets us suspended or expelled… We just want to teach him a lesson.” Dadza hesitated but then gave them a small nod. A small cheer escaped Wilbur’s lips as he and Techno fistbumps. “And I’ll help too!” Wilbur and Techno whip around and part revealing Tommy standing there, his face red and his fist pounding in his hand. “Tommy, Wilbur, Techno… Please you really don’t have to-” “No we do have to. They messed with you, they mess with all of us…. Now let’s forget this for now and go celebrate your birthday” 

And so you did. Dadza helped you stand up and walked you into a decorated kitchen. Party decorations of your favorite color and theme littered the walls and the table announcing “Happy Birthday” to you. Your favorite foods sat on the kitchen table with your favorite drink sitting in front of your favorite spot. Had you not just cried your eyes out, you would have cried happy tears. “Guys!” You squeal, rushing forward, looking at everything, “You didn’t have to do all this. Thank you!” The four of them chuckled at your reaction. You quickly sat in your own seat, waiting for everyone to sit down, before digging in. The rest of the night was spent just celebrating you. You got a lot of gifts from your family and ate a lot of ice cream and cake and just all around had a good time. 

*Time skip to the next day*

The next morning was the first morning in a while that I didn’t absolutely dread going to school. I rode to school with dadza. Wilbur and the boys following behind us in his own car. When we got there, Dadza went straight to the office and the four of us siblings stuck together instead of immediately branching off from each other. I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I heard my father’s voice boom asking where the principal was. 

The four of us continued down the hallway until we passed Chad. “Hey bitch!” Chad called from his spot leaning up against the lockers. I was a little surprised at his boldness, usually when I was with my brothers, nobody bothered me, but I guess he didn’t care today. I didn’t even get a chance to respond because in the blink of an eye, Techno had him pinned up against the lockers. “What did you just say to them?” 

Instantly, Chad’s demeanour changed, “Hey man, get off of me!” He exclaimed, trying to get out from under Techno, but my pink haired brother’s grip was too strong. “No, no, no… You’re going to tell me what it is you just said to them” Techno repeated, his tone extremely dark. Wilbur slowly walked up behind him and smirked at the trapped bully, “Yeah. I mean you seemed so brave just moments ago. Almost as brave as you were yesterday, come on big man. Where’s that bravery now?” Chad’s gaze shifted from my brother’s to me, “You fucking snitch! I told you not to tell, now you’re going to pay!” Chad once again tried to get out of Techno’s grip, but he was immediately slammed back against the lockers. Techno let out a small tisk, “That was the wrong answer Chad. You should know by now I don’t like repeating myself.” Techno growled, lifting Chad from the locker and slamming him back against it. 

Chad let out a small gasp of pain as the loud crash sounded, “You can’t do this! You two are both 18, I’ll sue. I’ll press charges.” Chad gasped, panic slowly filling his voice. That seemed to break through to Techno. Techno let out a huff of air through his nose. “If I ever catch you messing with Y/N again, I will end you” Techno grumbles out before letting go of Chad and taking a few steps back. 

Chad takes a moment to collect himself before the stupid smirk returns to his face. “That’s right. You’re not so big and bad are you?” He taunted my oldest brother. I watch as Wilbur has to literally grab Techno and restrain him from completely pouncing on the bully. Chad only smirks at the chaos he’s created. 

To my surprise, Tommy steps in front of him. “You better watch your mouth,” Tommy spoke to the bully. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it?” Chad asked with a huge smirk on his face. Tommy didn’t answer, he just stood there staring at Chad. I could tell Chad was getting nervous under Tommy’s stare. Finally he’d had enough of the silence, “You’re such a freak just like your sibling,” Chad announced, reaching forward and shoving Tommy as hard as he could. Tommy stumbled back, but it seemed as though that was what he was waiting for. “Oh, you’re going to regret that” Tommy announces with a smirk, popping his knuckles. Chad let out a scoff as he rolled his eyes, “Sure kid. It’s not like you’re going-” Chad didn’t get to finish because Tommy’s fist connected with Chad’s face. Tommy had reared back and punched Chad in the face as hard as he could. 

A gasp sounded throughout the hallway and it was then I noticed that there were a bunch of people that had gathered to watch what was happening. Chad went down like a sack of potatoes, just crumpling to the ground. For a moment, everyone was frozen. No one could believe what had just happened. Finally Tommy moved and looked around at the group that was staring at him. “That’s right!” Tommy announced loudly. His eyes met mine and he smiled before walking over and wrapping his arm around me “This is my sibling. If I ever catch you or hear of any of you bullying Y/N, it’ll be you next.” Wilbur and Techno were quick to join the two of us, “Yeah! What he said!” Wilbur cheered, backing up his younger brother. 

The office door flung open and my father and the principal walked out. All eyes snapped to the two adults that had just entered the scene. Principal M glanced around the hall, his eyes landed on an unconscious Chad, “What happened?” He asked, moving over to the knocked out boy. “It was self defense your honor,” Tommy claimed boldly, “He pushed me and tried to punch me but I punched him before he could… It was self defense.” Mr. M looked around everyone, “Is this true?” Every single head bobbed in unison at the question. No one was going to snitch. I could tell that Mr. M was a little skeptical but when his eyes met my fathers, he quickly nodded. “Right well… I’ll get him down to the nurses office… Everyone get to class” 

With that, everyone broke from their trance and raced off to their classroom. The four of us however made our way over to our father. “What really happened?” Dadza asked, an amused eyebrow raised as he looked the four of us up and down. Techno looked over his shoulder and shrugged, “We can explain later… It’s actually a funny story” Techno claimed with a small chuckle. Dadza couldn’t help but chuckle as well, “Well I can’t wait to hear it… I’ve got to go to work now but I’ll see you at home,” Dadza announced throwing his arms open. With no shame we all piled into his arms and had a big group hug. Dadza let us go and we began to head off to our classes. 

“Oh wait! Dad!” I called, stopping my father from leaving, “What did you say to the principal?” I asked, really curious. A small smirk appeared on my father’s face, “I’ll tell you when you’re older… Just know that you’re never going to be bullied in this school again… And if you are, let’s just say there are some jobs at stake… I’ll see you later kiddo. Love you!” “Love you too!” And then he was gone. I walked to my first class, the teacher not even questioning why  I was late. 

After that day, I was never bothered by bullies again. Everyone either was very nice to me, or they avoided me completely. Tommy and I spent a lot more time together. The boys had grown even more protective of me ever since they found out. I didn’t mind though, they’re my boys and I love them. Sometimes you need someone to stand up for you, to protect you, and to take care of you. And I couldn’t have asked for better boys to be that for me. 

There you go. I hope you enjoyed! If so be sure to leave a like or maybe even a reblog or reply telling me your favorite part/what you liked!

Find out what Philza said to the principal here lol

[latetaektalk]

(he)art thief | jjk [i, preview]

“jungkook is charming, kind, smart, and funny. jungkook is the guy to fall in love with. he is perfect in every sense, except that he is also a member of a notorious heist group and only getting close to you to steal from you. but what does he do when he starts to fall for you? who does he choose? his brothers or you?

genre: heist! AU, thief! jungkook, art curator daughter! oc, ocean’s! AU, fluff, angst, sexual themes/implied smut (in later chapters)

pairing: jungkook x female reader

estimated word count: 35 to 40k

warnings: cursing/swearing, a bit of alcohol consumption

a/n: this is loosely based off the ocean’s film! to be added to the taglist, shoot me an ask/message! also, gureum is jungkook’s dog! and thank you to movie club for helping me come up with this amazing title!!

coming sunday, may 30th 2021  

Jungkook avoids playgrounds.

Does so because when he was at the tender age of just seven, he fell off a swing. He ended up in the hospital (his first but not last visit); seven stitches, his mother told him, but he could swear it was a million.

Needless to say, Jungkook has been avoiding playgrounds like the plague ever since.

But here he is, in the middle of one, dog leash in his hand, and heart pounding in his chest so violently it might just explode.

A mob of boys runs past him, all of them no older than six—which means that, for the most part at least, they’re harmless—but still, Jungkook flinches. It’s embarrassing, even more so because Gureum turns and stares at him. If one of them should flinch, it should be Gureum, with him being a dog and Jungkook a full grown adult, but God, today is just not his day. He’s stressed! Out of it! Nervous! A wreck-

“Did you just flinch?”

Jungkook feels his heart drop. Fuck, he thought he walked out of sight!

“No, I didn’t, Tae,” he hisses, pressing the earpiece further into his ear.

“You flinched! We can still see you- ah, okay, not anymore. But we saw that-”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I definitely did not flinch-”

“Denying it is pointless. We all saw it. Back me up here, Jimin.”

“You definitely flinched.”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, is about to walk back to the car and tell them that they must be hallucinating because he definitely did not flinch when-

“Can you see her already, Kook?” Namjoon asks and for a moment, Jungkook forgot why he is here, you.

He looks around himself, and it doesn’t take him long to find you, sitting on a bench, under a big tree, soft shadows dancing on your skin.

“Yeah, I-I see her,” Jungkook says under his breath.

“Okay, good. I’m gonna need you to focus up then,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook nods like Namjoon could see him.

“Yeah, if you screw this up, it’s your fault if we end up in jail-”

“Tae!” Namjoon warns, and judging from the ‘ow’ that follows, someone punched him. Jungkook’s guess is Jimin.

“What? I’m just saying-”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you come,” Namjoon mumbles and runs a hand down his face. “Hey, Kook, don’t listen to Tae, yeah? He’s just messing with you.”

“Yeah… I know,” Jungkook mutters, and he means it. He really does know that Taehyung is messing with him, but there’s a part of him that takes it to heart, that is worried sick about how he’s going to fuck this up and be the reason for why they all end up in jail.

“Don’t worry, Kook,” Jimin cuts in, taking the phone from Namjoon. “We’ve got your back. All you have to do is repeat after me, say what I say. You’ve got this. Remember what I taught you?”

“Always smile and laugh and never talk about yourself. Keep the conversation about the other person because people love talking about themselves,” Jungkook repeats, and looks at you again, heart heavy in his chest.

He shouldn’t feel like this, wishes he wouldn’t. But he can’t help it. This isn’t how he imagined he’d meet you. Jungkook thought he’d meet you at some fancy event, sipping expensive champagne, or at some luxury clothing store maxing out your parents’ credit card—after all, your mother is a world famous art curator. But instead you spend your time at playgrounds, babysitting.

There’s actually no reason for Jungkook to be this nervous. Jimin did practise with him this exact scenario, but he can’t help but think that with a flute in his hands and some alcohol buzzing through his system, he’d feel more comfortable. But here he is, in the middle of a sea of children.

“Kook, do you copy?”

“What? Sorry, I wasn’t…” Jungkook pauses. He shouldn’t admit that he wasn’t listening.

“Get your head in the game, please,” Namjoon tells him over the earpiece.

“Sorry, you’re right. I’m here,” Jungkook says and starts to walk again even though he still feels fucking lost as a goddamn adult at a playground. Gureum follows him when he tugs on the dog leash.

“Okay, good. Just- just try your best,” Namjoon says, voice a bit muffled. “You’ve got this.”

Jungkook could swear that there’s a waiver to his words.

“Don’t worry. We’re here,” Taehyung tells him before Jungkook can think about it too much, distracting him from the quiver he heard.

He stops behind a tree, close enough for Gureum to spot you, but not close enough for you to spot them. His knees crack when he kneels down to stroke Gureum’s ear.

“Hey, Gureum? I’m gonna unleash you in a second and then I’m gonna need you to run towards,” Jungkook points as discreetly as possible to you, “her, yeah? Just like we practised? Remember? Remember how you ran towards Seok and Yoongi? Do it exactly like that again, okay? If you do, I’ll get you your favourite treat.”

Gureum doesn’t run away instantly when Jungkook unclips him because he’s trained, but when he points at you and whistles, he’s gone.

You react surprisingly calm to a dog barreling towards you, barely flinching. You lean down and greet Gureum.

“Approaching target now,” Jungkook mumbles quietly and can only faintly register how Namjoon tells Taehyung to be quiet from now on, all of his attention on the mission now.

With the leash in his hand, Jungkook jogs towards you, heaving extra hard to sell the act of a dog-owner-who-has-been-chasing-his-dog-for-the-last-ten-minutes to you.

You look up to him when he stops in front of you, eyeing him. Jungkook stands there, bend over, his hands on his knees, breathing like he’s struggling to catch his breath.

“Uh…. hi,” you start, brows pinched together.

Jungkook puts on his most charming smile, ignoring his thumping heart to the best of his abilities.

“Hi.”

“Oh, we’re starting- okay, showtime: I’m sorry, are you okay? My dog- he just ran and I couldn’t stop him. I’m so sorry,” Jimin says in his ear.

“I-I’m so sorry.” There’s a quiver to Jungkook’s voice, and it isn’t on purpose. “Are you okay? He just ran and I-”

“It’s fine,” you tell him with a small smile, still petting Gureum who has clearly taken a liking to you. During practise with Seokjin and Yoongi, Gureum always ran back to Jungkook, but now he’s staying at your feet, relishing in your pets. “Is that your dog?”

“Yes, yes, it is. I’m so sorry. I just unleashed him for a second, but then he ran away and I couldn’t catch up with him. Are you okay?”

“Yes, and I’m so sorry. I just unleashed him for a moment, thinking it was okay, but-”

“Can you prove it?” you interrupt and Jungkook pauses. “I mean that it’s your dog. It’s just that he isn’t really reacting to you, you know?”

Jimin’s response comes a bit late. “Oh, yes, I can. His name’s Gureum and he is- what’s the breed of your dog again? I don’t remember. If you look at his collar, you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

“Oh, yeah, I can,” Jungkook smiles, wiping the non existent sweat from his temple. “His name’s Gureum and he’s a white Maltese dog. If you look at his collar, you’ll see that I’m not lying.”

You actually look at the collar and part of Jungkook is offended that you don’t just believe him. Does he look like a liar to you? “Actually, I have pictures too-”

“No, no, it’s fine. I believe you,” you say before gesturing for Gureum to go back to Jungkook. He does, but somewhat reluctantly and Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret this.

“Ask her if she’s okay again.”

“Are you really okay?” Jungkook says and offers you a smile the way Jimin taught him to. “I really am sorry about-”

“It’s fine,” you tell him and wave him off. “Nothing happened. Don’t worry about it. Just leash your dog.”

And then, you turn away from him. Jungkook stands there awkwardly for another moment before kneeling down to Gureum, absentmindedly petting him, mind filled with questions because what now? How does he communicate to the others that you turned away from him? That the conversation has ended and he has no idea how to start it again?

“What’s going on Kook? Is she smiling-”

“Ah, Gureum, no,” Jungkook cuts in. “Don’t turn away- I can’t leash you if you do that. Don’t turn away.”

“Oh, shit, she turned away, huh?”

“What now, Jimin?”

“Shush, Joon. Let me think, yeah?”

Jungkook fiddles with the leash like he has a problem clipping it, hoping that maybe you’re going to offer him your help. You don’t. And why would you? He’s an adult after all.

Before Jimin can come up with anything though, the solution to the problem presents itself. It comes in the form of a girl running and tripping right next to Jungkook and him catching her just in time before she can faceplant in the dirt and scrape her knees open.

“Oh, hey, careful here!” Jungkook brings the girl back up on her two feet. She stares at him with big eyes, and he recognises her from the pictures. It’s Siyeon, the seven year old girl you babysit regularly, the reason why you’re spending your afternoon at a playground today. ”You okay?”

“Kook, what’s happening right now?” Namjoon asks.

Siyeon looks at you, and you’re already kneeling beside her, fixing her hair.

“Siyeon, I told you not to run. See, you almost fell now!” You say it the same way a mother would, less strict though. “If he hadn’t caught you, you would have hurt yourself, wouldn’t you have? Now, what do you say?”

“T-thank you,” Siyeon mumbles, and Jungkook isn’t sure if she’s staring at her hands because she’s embarrassed or just about to cry.

“Who’s that? Who are you talking to? Who’s he talking to?”

“Was that a kid?”

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks Siyeon, ignoring Namjoon and Taehyung to the best of his abilities.

“Y-yes, thank you.” She won’t look at him.

Jungkook smiles. “Well, I’m happy that you didn’t get hurt there.”

“Kook, answer please. Do you need help?”

“Should we interfere?”

Jungkook’s about to snap. Does it seriously sound like he needs help? He’s talking to a seven year old, for fuck’s sake! Sure, he didn’t practise this scenario, but God, he was capable of improvising!

“Thank you. She’s really clumsy,” you say to Jungkook.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m like that too. After all, I let,” he looks down at Gureum and finishes his sentence by gesturing to him and then you. You laugh.

And that’s when Siyeon seems to notice Gureum for the first time, eyes growing big at his sight like she has never seen a dog before. A chance.

“His name’s Gureum. You wanna-”

“Do you think we should go over there? See if he’s okay?”

And with that, Jungkook snaps. Yoongi is going to give him an earful for destroying his oh so precious equipment, but he can’t do this any longer with Jimin, Namjoon and Taehyung in his ear. So in one smooth movement, Jungkook digs out the earpiece and crushes it between his fingers, hiding it in his hand.

“Sorry, a fly, I think,” Jungkook says, swatting at his ear, and before you can think about it, he moves on. “Do you wanna pet Gureum, S- Is it okay if I call you Siyeon?”

Siyeon stares at Jungkook like he can’t believe he just asked her that. It’s probably the first time an adult has asked her for permission to call her by her name, and she seems to appreciate it immensely because she beams at him and gives him a huge nod.

“Okay, Siyeon, do you maybe wanna pet Gureum? He doesn’t bite, I promise.” Jungkook can feel your eyes on him. He’s doing it, charming you!

Siyeon turns to you.

“Can I-?”

You hum. “If Gureum is okay with it-”

Siyeon kneels down. “Hello, Mr Gureum. Sir, can I please pet you?”

Jungkook melts, and so do you.

Receiving no response from Gureum, Siyeon looks back up to you. Jungkook quickly takes his paw and waves. “Hello, Mrs Siyeon, if you promise not to hurt me, you can pet me. I like it especially if humans pet me at the back of my head. Just, please, be nice to me.”

In all of the years he has had Gureum, Jungkook has never tried to imagine what his voice would sound like, but he knows for a fact that he doesn’t sound like a chain smoker. It’s a questionable choice, but he doesn’t regret it. Because not only does it make Siyeon laugh, it also elicits a chuckle from you.

You look at him with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet, have I?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jungkook says, and you two rise to your feet when Siyeon starts to pet Gureum and he doesn’t bite her.

“Well,” you stretch out your hand, “I’m Y/N.”

Jungkook swallows the ‘I know’ that wants to slip him and takes your hand. He has to stop himself from bursting with pride, only allowing his smile to grow into a blinding grin.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, and he means it. It’s really nice to meet you. “I’m Jungkook.”

coming sunday, may 30th 2021