#new project cargo pant

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Wilfred Pacino Vest ($118) & Wilfred New Project Cargo Pant ($148) in Dark Olive from Aritzia

[covenofagatha]

hey!! can you do one where you run into professor agatha at the library while doing homework and it ends with her making you sit on her cock without moving while you study and you're impatient and she ends up fucking you right there in thar secluded corner (with lots of overstimulation and daddy kink if you're comfortable with that?)

Inspiration struck for this one today so hope everyone enjoys

I just started a new semester so probably won't be posting as much but I will do my best to keep writing and putting stuff out regularly. Also will be pausing any Agathario x reader fics for the moment

Learning to focus

When you run into Professor Harkness at the local library while you're supposed to be working on a project for her history class, you find yourself distracted by her (again)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: public sex, GP Agatha, fingering, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstimulation, it really was agatha all along, slight humiliation?, hints of degradation

The Westview University campus library is always packed, so you usually opt for the local library about twenty minutes away from the school. 

Much quieter and way less crowded. 

And you don’t have to worry about running into any failed situationships or crazy roommates from past years. 

Plus it’s a really nice library, two stories with long glass windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor. Even when you don’t have school work, you often enjoy coming here just to read or play on your computer. It’s a peaceful place, a place that lets you just relax and forget about the outside world and all the stress you feel. 

Stress mainly from one class. Your history class. 

Professor Agatha Harkness was the only one who taught U.S. History when your schedule could allow it, which meant you had to ignore all the bad reviews on RateMyProfessor.com, because you had no other option. 

On the first day, you could see exactly where they came from. 

One boy had shown up five minutes late, practically a miracle on the first day of classes, stammering an excuse about how bad traffic was, Professor Harkness had fixed him with a glare and told him that he better drop the class. 

You were just thankful that you had a class before hers, otherwise you would’ve been late, too. 

She was just as mean and ruthless and cold as everyone said she’d be. Her assignments were almost outrageous and she graded them so harshly it was honestly impressive you weren’t failing yet. 

But the one thing the reviews forgot to mention was how attractive she is. Her long, dark hair that she’d often keep back in a ponytail. Her sharp blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean on a dark night. Her high cheekbones, her pointed nose, her wicked smirk, honestly, everything about her. 

You suppose the more impressive thing is that you aren’t failing with how often you get distracted by the way her fingers on her left hand tighten around the dry-erase marker when she’s drawing time-lines on the board. When she sways her hips and flexes her knuckles which tightens her veins, you feel a tugging in your gut and you have to bite your lip. 

And you definitely should not be noticing the bulge in her pants when she sits back with her legs spread in her chair while the class is taking an exam. 

You have an optimal seat, all the way to the right of her desk and in the front row, so you can take her in without her noticing you too much. 

If anyone looked too closely at you, they’d assume you were sweating because of the forty-five multiple choice and five written questions you had to answer in only a little over an hour. 

That wasn’t it. 

You swore she saw you looking one time, one particular day when she was wearing a blue flannel and loose fitting cargo pants. You were staring, so completely distracted when you should’ve been taking notes that you didn’t even notice she had dismissed the class. 

It wasn’t until you finally realized that she was stalking toward you that you had fucked up. You had swallowed roughly and moved to shove your stuff into your bag when she had put her hands on your desk and leaned in, causing you to completely forget how to breathe. 

“You seemed a little preoccupied there,” she murmured in a low voice, her hint of cologne tickling your nose. “Try to pay better attention next time. Don’t want to have to teach you a lesson.”

You had promptly nodded and almost ran to your dorm to fuck yourself to the thought of her teaching you a very different kind of lesson. 

Professor Harkness is in your head, and you can’t get her out no matter how hard you try. Except right now, you really need to focus, because the end-of-semester project is due in a week and you haven’t started. 

Did she give you the entire four months of the course to complete it? Yes. But you have never been good at working ahead or at time management. 

She had assigned a ten page paper along with a hand-drawn timeline about something that had happened in the history of the United States. You had picked the Salem Witch Trials, and Professor Harkness had winked when you got the topic approved by her. 

So you’re about to spend the next probably five hours in the library trying to make some headway on this project. The timeline should be easy, but it’s the paper you’re worried about. 

You go up the stairs and wind through the aisles of books on the second floor until you get to your secluded corner, the one you always go to, the one with a small table and two chairs hidden by bookshelves and gasp. 

Your favorite spot has been taken by none other than Professor Harkness. She’s sitting in the chair you usually sit in, pen between her teeth, staring at papers. 

When she looks up, she doesn’t even seem surprised to see you and a slow grin spreads over her face. 

“Professor, what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the straps on your tote bag. Should you go somewhere else?

She chuckles. “In a public library in the town where I live?” 

Your cheeks burn. “Right. Um, I’ve just never seen you here before.” And then you inwardly kick yourself because now it sounds like you’ve been on the lookout. 

“Wanted to get out of the house,” she shrugs. “Have some papers to grade for that project due next week. How’s yours coming?” 

“Oh, really good,” you lie, shifting your weight and trying to think of a quick way to get out of this conversation. “Almost done. Well, I don’t want to bother–” 

She interrupts you by sliding the chair out next to her and patting it. “Why don’t you come show me what you have? I can give you some help, free of charge.” She winks, a glint in her eyes, and it makes your stomach twist. 

“Oh, Professor, that’s not necessary,” you say nervously but she tsks and waves dismissively. 

“Please, call me Agatha. It’s the weekend and we’re off campus. Now, come sit.” She makes it clear it’s an order and you gulp before taking the seat. Even being this close to her is affecting your body and you know there’s absolutely no way you’re getting anything done. 

She’s currently grading a paper about the Boston Massacre and it��s drenched in red ink. You’re not sure which you feel more of: annoyance at your over-achieving classmates or absolute dread for how Agatha is going to react when she finds out that you haven’t even started and, even worse, lied about it. 

You take a shaky breath, feeling her intense gaze on you. “So, the thing is…” You trail off, reaching down to pull out your laptop. You set it on the table and slowly open it, silently begging for the floor underneath you to open up and swallow you whole. 

Anything would be better than this humiliation. 

“Yeah?” Agatha breathes, suddenly much closer to you. You will your eyes to not look away from the computer screen and type in your password, praying that you didn’t leave anything that embarrassing up. 

It opens up to the blank document titled Salem Witch Trials, just so it’s clear to Agatha what exactly this page was supposed to be. 

You’d rather it have been porn. 

Your professor chuckles slowly next to you. “Thought you were almost done?” She simpers in that gruff voice that drives you wild. “Did you get distracted again?” 

Agatha leans forwards, resting her elbow on the table, and perching her head in her hand so she can peer at you. Your eyes glance over to meet hers and then back to your computer, but in your peripheral vision, you can see her body tilt toward yours and her legs open just the slightest. 

Your mouth runs dry and you make a pointed effort not to look between them. 

“What’s gotten you so preoccupied, babygirl?” She asks and you clench around nothing at the shift in tone and the pet name. Holy fuck. “I’ve seen you staring in class, you know. You’re not very subtle at all.” 

Forget being swallowed by the floor, you might just combust out of pure embarrassment. 

You try to stammer out something, an apology maybe, sorry for wanting to fuck you, Professor, but no sounds come out of your mouth. Her other hand comes up and teases a lock of your hair and you finally work up the courage to look at her. 

Agatha’s eyes are heated and dark, all the blue practically gone, and her lips are parted just so. And then you flick your eyes down to between her legs involuntarily and you have to bite back a whimper because she’s fucking hard. 

You can see her length through her navy pants and your brain short-circuits. Agatha likes this. Agatha likes you. 

“Is that what gets you all hot and bothered? Can’t focus because you’re too busy staring at me?” Agatha asks, hand dropping to palm herself. She gives her dick a quick stroke and lets out a tight sigh and you have to hold onto the table to steady yourself. 

Heat rushes through your body in an almost unbearable way. “Yes,” you whisper hoarsely. 

Agatha takes her hand off herself and taps a finger to her lips. “Hmm,” she draws out thoughtfully. You can feel a puddle growing in your underwear. “You know, I’m used to the crushes. Doesn’t even phase me anymore, usually it’s college girls who are just so desperate for attention. Not getting it anywhere else and they think that their fifty year old professor will be into them.” 

Your jaw clenches. Is this the part where she rejects you? 

But Agatha smirks and looks you up and down, takes in your squirming body in the chair. “And I never have even considered it. Until you. None of them have been as delicious as you, pet.” 

And it makes your head spin. It’s almost as if you’re in a trance when your hand grabs onto her thigh and Agatha lets out a low moan. 

“Please,” you say, desperation in your voice. What are you asking for? You don’t even think you know. 

Agatha tuts. “Do you really think you deserve anything? This paper is due in a week and you haven’t even started. Doesn’t seem like you should get a reward for procrastinating, does it?” 

“It’s not my fault,” you whine before you can even think about it. There’s something about this side of Agatha specifically that makes your mind turn to mush. 

She raises an eyebrow like she’s daring you to say that again. “I think you need to learn how to keep that pretty head of yours focused.” She nods to the computer screen. “Make an outline.”

You swallow roughly and straighten up, putting your hands on the keyboard. You’ve just switched tabs and begun googling “Salem Witch Trials” when Agatha’s hand lands on your upper thigh. 

You freeze and glance at her out of the corner of your eye to find her scribbling another note on the paper in front of her. You don’t know how she’s so calm and collected when you feel like your entire body is on fire. 

“Focus,” she tells you in that deep voice of hers and you click on the first result that comes up as her fingers begin to toy with the hem of your skirt. 

You try, you really do try, but it’s so fucking hard to read the words on the screen when she’s inching closer and closer to your underwear, which you can feel is absolutely drenched. 

And soon enough, she’s going to feel it, too. You can almost hear her dark laugh already when she realizes just how affected you are. 

Her fingertips brush against you and instead of laughing, she gasps. “Oh, pet, no wonder you never pay attention in class,” she coos and a thrill runs through you despite how embarrassed you are. She effortlessly finds your clit through the fabric and rubs it and you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound. 

“Agatha,” you say under your breath and you can practically hear her smirking. Why is it so hot that she is still grading the paper as she starts to run her fingers up and down your pussy over your underwear? She dips in at your entrance and a muffled groan tears itself out of your mouth. 

“Is this what you’re like while I’m teaching, too?” She muses conversationally, but you look down just in time to see her cock twitch in her pants. It makes you feel even more exhilarated, knowing she’s just as affected. But then she moves your panties to the side and slides her fingers through your folds and you forget any train of thought you had. You really hope your wetness isn’t as loud as it sounds. “Dripping for me like a little slut? Getting yourself all worked up when I’m talking about the Declaration of Independence? It’s pathetic.” 

You whimper, maybe in agreement, maybe at how good it feels when she pushes a finger into you, but her eyes slightly glaze over at the feeling of your warm walls around her. 

“God, Agatha,” you moan, your own hand coming down to wrap around her wrist when she starts moving. You can feel her flexing with each thrust and your tongue presses against your cheek as you breathe heavily, leaning toward her. 

She presses a quick kiss to your head and scrapes her teeth against your ear before hotly whispering, “Better be quiet, babygirl. And focus. Or I’ll stop.”

You manage to type out three bullet points worth of information when she slips another finger into you and you clamp a hand over your mouth before you moan obscenely. 

Agatha leans over to read what you have so far. “Who was the first woman to be executed for witchcraft?” She asks and you realize that you never finished that sentence. 

“Bridget Bishop,” you gasp, and she swipes at your clit as a reward, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. 

You continue to type, hoping it’s making sense because you can’t even comprehend the words, while Agatha continues to twist her fingers inside you roughly and rub your clit. You can feel your orgasm slowly building, and it only makes it worse every time Agatha hums right into your ear at something you’ve written. Your walls are clenching around her, trying to draw her even further into you, and she can tell you’re getting close, you’re going to cum so quickly around her fingers. 

“There we go pet, such a good girl for Daddy,” she says into your ear and you spasm all around her, the name sending you right over the edge. 

Who knew you’d like that so much? 

Apparently Agatha did, who grins like a cat getting her cream as she fucks you through your orgasm with her fingers, keeping a steady rhythm on your clit. You taste blood from biting your lip so hard but you manage to keep quiet and you finally come down from your high. 

But it’s not enough, you need more, and judging by the straining of Agatha’s cock against her pants, she needs more, too. 

You move to touch her but she slaps your hand away. “Not yet,” she growls and it sends another blast of heat through you. You think there might be a wet spot on the chair underneath you. 

It only makes it worse when she reaches down and undoes her own belt, fiddles with the button exasperatedly, and finally unzips her pants. She reaches inside and your jaw drops open when she pulls out her hard and leaking cock. It’s big, big enough to make your mouth water, and it almost looks painful. Agatha gives herself a few strokes, hips jumping, and she hisses when she rubs her thumb over the tip. 

“Think you can focus while you sit on Daddy’s cock, babygirl?” She taunts. You’ve never felt so empty in your life, you need her so bad, and she’s right there. 

You almost want to bend down and take her into your mouth, taste her hard cock. 

“I asked you a question,” she reminds you roughly, slapping your thigh to get your attention. The sting makes you jump. “God, you really do get distracted easily.” 

You mumble an apology, cheeks flushing. “I can focus, I promise,” you say, trying to sound convincing, but neither of you believe it. Regardless, she smirks and pats her legs and you do a cautious sweep of the surrounding area. This is incredibly dangerous and if you get caught, you both will get in serious trouble. 

But for some reason, the thrill of getting caught only turns you on more. 

So you stand up and straddle her and sit down, taking her cock in one fell swoop. She goes in easy with how wet you are and you bottom out in her lap, the both of you groaning quietly with restraint. 

“Fuck, babygirl,” you hear Agatha huff and you squeeze your walls around her in response. It makes her thrust up and you inhale sharply at the feeling. She is so big and you can feel her throbbing inside you. “Better keep working.” 

You lean forward slowly to move your laptop closer, the stretch absolutely delicious and she chuckles when you gasp as you settle back onto her. Agatha wraps her arms around your waist and you really do try to be good and focus, but every so often, she shifts beneath you and it hits that spot so deep inside you and you can’t help but squirm to try and get more. 

Would she notice if you slowly start moving? Most likely, but it’s worth the risk. You give the gentlest roll of your hips and Agatha moans low into your ear before her fingernails dig into your hips through your skirt to still you. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispers dangerously so you’re forced to sit without moving on her cock that is filling you up better than anything ever has before. 

It’s sweet torture and you write a few more sentences before you can feel your wetness dripping down her cock and out of you. Every so often, you’ll clench around her, too, completely involuntarily, of course, and she’ll buck into you like she can’t help it while breathing suddenly. You’re not sure how much longer of this you can take, the ache spreading everywhere in your body and absolutely ruining you. 

“Agatha,” you whine again, begging, starting to move despite her death-like grip on your waist. 

She moves your hair to the side and nips at your neck. “Yes, babygirl?” 

“Can you please–” you begin, frustration leaking into your voice, tears pricking in your eyes. “Can you please move? Please, I need it so bad. I’m trying so hard to focus, please, can you fuck me? Daddy–”

Turns out, all you needed to convince her was to call her that, because she finally breaks and starts thrusting her hips up and pounding her cock into you. Your hand flies over your mouth and you bite onto a finger to stop yourself from crying out and you wish you weren’t in a library right now, rather be in the comfort of Agatha’s bed or car or office or anywhere but here, so you could be as loud as you want. 

“Let’s see if you’re still distracted after Daddy fucks all the thoughts out of your head,” she snaps and fuck, you’re already so close after cockwarming her for those few minutes. She reaches around you with a hand to circle your clit, which is already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a muffled sound escapes you. Agatha laughs breathlessly and you strain your ears to hear if anyone is coming near you – not that you could do anything about it now – but there’s nothing. 

Thank god this is a relatively empty library, especially at this time of the day, and that the two of you are tucked away in the back where it’s hard to see normally. 

Agatha’s thrusts are getting so powerful that you’re forced to put your hands out on the table for balance which means it gets a lot harder to control your noises. But your professor, ever the problem-solver, comes up with a solution. 

She slides two fingers into your mouth so you can suck on them and so your moans are stifled. Agatha presses her fingers against your tongue, scrapes her nails against it, and draws them out before shoving them back in, effectively fucking both your mouth and your pussy. 

“You feel so good, babygirl, so fucking tight,” she pants into your ear and you gag when she pushes her fingers down your throat. 

It’s so much, so much stimulation from her cock and her fingers and the fact that you’re being fucked in a public library where anyone could see that your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and it’s explosive. You sink your teeth into her skin and she moans, almost being louder before she remembers to control herself. 

You need a moment to collect yourself, but she doesn’t give it to you; instead, she shoves you off her lap and stands up right behind you without her cock ever leaving your body. 

Agatha bends you over the table, hand pressing against your back, and you have just enough awareness to move your laptop out of the way before she sets a bruising pace. The table must be bolted down to the floor or something, because it thankfully doesn’t move. 

Agatha grunts softly with each thrust and you can feel her twitching inside you even though it feels like every single one of your nerves is on fire. 

“Daddy, I don’t know if I can again,” you quietly sob, the pleasure fraying your mind, the sensitivity of your clit making you gasp when she rubs it. You feel like you’re drifting away from your body, dizziness swarming your head. “Too much,” you babble. 

But she doesn’t slow down. If anything, she picks up her speed and tears fall from your eyes. “You can, babygirl, I know you can. You can take it – fuck, you feel so good around me.” 

Agatha losing her composure because of you, just knowing you have that kind of affect on someone usually so cold and unaffected, is starting to build your orgasm back up. 

“Daddy,” you whine, trying to be as quiet as you can. Her rhythm is starting to falter, she’s throbbing and twitching and cursing, fingers scrambling for purchase on your hips, and you know she’s getting close. 

“So perfect, babygirl,” she mutters and you know she’s refraining from being louder, too. “I’ve wanted you for so long, ever since the first day when you walked into my classroom wearing that short skirt.” 

The confession makes you clench and a gasp escapes your lips. You’re climbing closer and closer to the edge and Agatha isn’t far behind. 

“Knew I had to have you,” she keeps going and your body is practically vibrating. 

She’s pounding into you so deep, filling you so good, her cock dragging against your walls in the best way. Her ragged words are getting to her, too; you can tell in the way her thrusts become shallower and shorter like she can’t do anything more. 

You’d make a quip about her being distracted but you can’t form a sentence right now. Every thought in your head is gone. 

“Daddy knows you come here,” she continues and your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even think you can understand her. You’re close, so close. “Knew you hadn’t started on the project. Knew you’d be here – fuck, babygirl.” She breaks off with a sharp inhale as you squeeze around her at her words. 

This whole thing was planned. She’s wanted you just as badly as you’ve wanted her. And now she’s fucking you against a table in a library because of it. 

She reaches around and rubs your clit and that’s it. 

You cum all over her cock, walls convulsing around her, and she quickly follows, pumping her cum into you. You feel her warmth spreading through you and it makes you gasp. 

Thankfully she pulls out because you truly can’t take anymore and she slides your underwear back into place before her cum can drip down your legs. She turns you around after zipping her pants back up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You okay?” She murmurs and you weakly nod. “Is that pretty head of yours clear now? Think you can focus?” 

The question makes you laugh. There are no thoughts left in your head whatsoever. “You do know that I’m only going to be thinking about this in your classes right? You just made the problem ten times worse.” 

Agatha smirks and taps under your chin. “Tell you what, pet. For each day early you turn this project in, that’s one more reward you’ll get.” 

And even though you’re completely worn out, your clit pulses at the thought of more. 

“Think you’ll be able to focus now?” Agatha asks sweetly. You nod eagerly, your brain suddenly able to piece together how you’re going to structure your paragraphs, and she chuckles. “It’s all about finding the right motivation. I look forward to seeing your final project.” She winks, packs up her stuff, and then walks away. 

You sit down in the chair, making a mental note to clean that and the table before you leave, and open your laptop back up. 

Cracking your knuckles, you get to work, suddenly able to focus so much better now. 

[truly-neutral-art]

Din/Luke Pacific Rim AU pt.2

Pt.1 | Pt.3 | Pt.4

Another addition to this AU because It's been living in my head rent free for ages. I can't do a Pacific Rim AU without recreating the iconic Kwoon scene. Also, I was too lazy to draw backgrounds so I just stole them from the movie  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Under the cut is a teaser of the fic I'm trying to write. It's a first draft, so there's probably some mistakes. Also, I'm still kind of in Screen Writing mode from school, so please don't mind if there's not a lot of internal character narration.

“Four points to two,” Luke calls after the final candidate falls. His emotions are carefully masked on his face but Din can see how tense he is. 

“We’re wasting time, Marshal. He’s barely compatible with any of them, this isn’t going to work,” Luke says.

“What do you suggest?” The Marshal raises a brow. 

“Put me in charge, I’m drift compatible with several cadets. We don’t need him.” Luke gestures towards Din. The look on his face makes Din’s blood boil. Contempt. What did he ever do to Luke to earn this?

“What’s your problem, Skywalker?” Din stomps towards the edge of the mat. 

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think you're the right man for the job,” Luke replies. He’s now turned squarely towards Din, his face back to that eerie calm. It sends a shiver down Din’s spine. 

“No, there’s more. You’ve got a problem with me.” Din steps closer, trying to ignore the piercing blue of Luke’s eyes. 

“Enough! both of you.” Marshal Skywalker turns to them both. 

“If you think you’re so much better, then let’s go.” Din points his bō at Luke. “If you win, you can pilot the Crest. If I win, you back off.” Din holds Luke's gaze, projecting his challenge. 

“Neither of you are in the position to make that decision,” Anakin states, breaking the spell. 

“What? Think your own blood isn’t good enough to beat me?” Din didn’t know Marshal Skywalker that well, but from what he did know, the man was prideful. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but it got him what he wanted. 

The Martial turned towards Luke, earning his attention. No words were exchanged between them, the Martial simply gave a nod. A brief look of satisfaction washed over Luke’s face. Din turned towards the mat to prepare for the fight before Luke’s eyes turned back to him. 

Luke stepped to the edge of the mat, shoes and outer shirt removed. He bowed at the waist before stepping forward. He was in a simple black tank top and the standard cargo pants. It was the first time Din had seen any of his skin exposed beyond his face. His arms and neck were covered in pale, lightning-like scars that looked like they extended beyond what Din could see. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. He knew almost nothing about Luke when he really thought about it. Only what he heard from the news from the past four years.

He had to admit, it made him earn a little more respect for the kid. At first he’d seemed like a petulant child who was getting his favorite toy taken away, but now, Din wasn’t as sure that was the case. He had no more time to think on it as he and Luke passed each other on the mat, walking to opposite sides, then turning to face each other. 

In the blink of an eye Luke swung his bō with the finesse of a warrior. He moved forward before stopping in the middle of the mat as he pulled his bō up in defense. Din followed suit, taking on a more aggressive starting position. He could tell Luke was analyzing him, eyes flitting around to every point of his body. Din took the opportunity to attack. In one swift moment he had his bō mimicking a strike at Luke’s skull. 

“One, Zero.” The words had barely left his mouth before Luke made a counter attack. In a flash Luke had reversed their positions with a satisfied smirk. 

Without wasting any more time the two began to fight again in an explosion of movement. The people in the kwoon reacted to them, but Din’s focus narrowed in until it was only them in the room. He watched Luke’s movements carefully, anticipating and blocking every attack that came and returning his own. He picked up on a franticness in Lukes’s movements and took advantage, landing an attack on his ribs. 

“You’re too eager, you’re projecting your moves,” Din commented as they reset. 

“I don’t need your advice.” Despite his words, Luke waited, ready for Din’s next move. 

Luke swiftly blocked everything Din threw at him and pushed back even harder. In the next moment Luke attacked with a flurry of blows, catching Din off guard. He was stronger than he looked. 

“Two, two.” Luke had once again evened the score. 

There was barely a pause before they were at it again. This bout lasted longer than the others, both having picked up on each other’s gambit. They danced around each other, the only sound in Din’s ears were the clacking of their bō staffs and their heavy breathing. Neither was holding back. 

In a blur of motion Luke darted towards Din’s legs, throwing him off balance. Din rolled out of the throw but as he lifted his head he was met with Luke’s bō to his throat. Luke's eyes were no less intense this close. 

“Two, Three.” Luke stepped back into a ready position. “Better watch out, Djarin.” There was a satisfied smirk on his face. He was winning. Din wouldn’t give up that easily. 

He pulled out every trick he had, but Luke seemed to always be a step ahead. He was too fast, almost as if he could read Din’s mind. From the outside it would almost look like this was rehearsed. In the end, it was Din’s weight advantage that won him the point. He moved in close and pinned Luke's arm before throwing him down to the mat. The blond hit the ground on his back, breath escaping his lungs from the impact. 

Din almost went to help him up but Luke threw his legs backwards into a handstand before standing back up. He barely looked affected, the only sign of fatigue on him was the sweat on his forehead that matted down his blond hair. 

“Three, Three,” Din called. “And there’s no need to show off.” 

The next point would declare a winner. There was a smile on Luke’s face, different from the ones before. This one was more open, leaving Din feeling dizzy instead of insulted. 

Din tried to understand it but there was no more time to ponder as Luke set on his next attacks. He was more aggressive than he’d been the rest of the fight but Din pushed back, not without some difficulty. Luke danced around Din with a frightening agility. The only thing that kept Din in the fight for so long were his reflexes. He knew he had to end this fight soon or Luke would eventually wear him down. 

In a decisive move Din attacked at Luke’s head, trading off his defense for offense. He had Luke on the move, nearly pushing him off the mat. However, before he could land a finishing blow Luke darted to the side, slipping his leg between Din’s and toppling him to the floor. When Din processed what happened, he was pinned under Luke’s hips on his chest and his bō at his neck. 

Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd, but Din’s view had narrowed into Luke as he stood up. Din stayed on the ground, still a bit stunned from the end of the fight. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about its outcome. But one thing was for certain, he and Luke were drift compatible. Very drift compatible. 

Din was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even realize Luke was reaching down to him until his hand was in his face. He took it and allowed Luke to help him to his feet. 

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” Luke asked.

“Yeah.”

[weeeeeekly]

“are you okay?” – mark lee x gn!reader

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blurb On Earth-127, Mark is an ordinary biomed major at Neo Culture Institute of Technology, but when he’s not studying for class, he’s out saving New York City as Spider-Man. The job is hard, but he manages it. It also doesn’t hurt that his new friend is just his type.

info not edited, no afab/fem mention, mainly gender neutral, no reader body shape mention, no use of y/n, swearing, non-idol au, college au, college student!mark, spiderman!mark (obvi), reader is assigned lactose intolerant. johnny & jaehyun as mark’s besties. mark & reader are 22 and johnny & jaehyun are 24. everyone else is 21. ft. jungwoo & 00 line of nct/riize as frat bros. loosely based off a combo of the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house, 200 music video, & superman ii

WARNINGS!!! SFW but MDNI 18+ blog, kinda suggestive but nothing explicit in this, swearing, mentions of almost dying, not proofread just pure free flowing thought, mention of vaping (not by mark or reader), & mention of consuming alcohol

wc: 7.8k

author’s note !! HAPPY belated MFING BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL BOYF MARK LEE. i meant to post this right after 200 came out, then for his birthday, and now it’s finally finished as an early birthday present for myself… this is very much self-indulgent.

a passion project if you will. i hope there are others that also have spider-mark brain rot. ESPECIALLY AFTER 200!!! it was bad before like in the ncit house video, but it’s even worse now. a real labor of love except everything i do is a labor of love because why would i write about something i’m not passionate about in my free time.

this is FICTION!!!!! everything is made up by me or inspired by the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house video, & mark’s 200 music video. the stuff written out is not meant to be a representation of the people, places, or ideas mentioned.

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Mark loves his job.

Nothing made him happier than donning the red and blue one-piece suit with the arachnoid symbol on the center of the chest and pulling down the matching mask. He was pretty proud of his sewing skills. Hopefully the elderly owner of the downtown fabric store never puts the puzzle pieces together.

He was still fairly new to being Spider-Man – only being bitten at the beginning of last semester and using the summer to work out the kinks – this spring semester would show his improvement.

His school schedule was class schedule was calm with classes only on Tuesday and Thursday in the morning and evening with the rest online. With the perfect amount of time throughout busy days to sneak away to patrol the city. The rest of the weekdays were dedicated to working at the college radio station. It allowed Mark to work around his own schedule as he could pre-record segments and cue up pre-made playlists.

The morning of the first day of the new semester was looking like an average day, helping civilians with minimal tasks like crossing busy streets and saving pets in trees.

Swinging to university was his favorite form of transportation as it was convenient but at the same time fun as sailing through the air was incomparable to any other experience. Mark landed on the roof of the old bell tower as he quickly changed into a pair of clothes he stashed in a hidden backpack on the ceiling ledge. Nothing too exciting, just a maroon tee, brown cargo pants, and black converse. He made quick work to stash his suit inside his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

He walked down the spiral staircase as he put on his headphones and checked his phone.

            apartment 721

johnny dude r u coming to shoot some hoops?

jaehyun are we playing basketball or should I skip for football practice?

mark be there in 5

Mark raced across the university lawn, passing unassuming students that would never know his secret. The early morning hours provided more security for his secret as most people around him were either too busy rushing to their 8 AM lecture or too tired from pulling another all-nighter.

When he reached the basketball courts, Mark tucked his bag in between Jaehyun’s massive athletic bag and Johnny’s decked out in pins and patches. The duo was goofing off with a basketball as they made obnoxious moves before shooting for the hoop.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.”

Johnny pauses as he turns toward his best friend before tossing the ball. Mark effortlessly catches it due to his built-up reflexes from stopping local crimes.

“Yo guess who finally decided to show up.” Johnny remarks as Mark makes a 3 pointer.

Jaehyun and Johnny both share a look as the former greets Mark, “You’ve gotten really good at basketball in a short amount of time… like crazy good.”

“Yeah man. You used to not be able to even get the ball in while standing still, but now you’re even better than Mr. Team Captain over here.”

Mark shrugs as he dribbles the ball, “I’m not even close to Jaehyun’s level, dude. He’s the best player.”

“Okay then go to the other side of the court and make it in.”

Mark looks at Johnny as Jaehyun chugs some water but gives in as he walks to the end of the court.

Mark is pretty sure that his sharp reflexes only work for short distances or when he’s out being Spider-Man, so the dare shouldn’t tip his best friends off. Mark dribbles the ball a bit before throwing the ball in the direction of the hoop.

Luckily, the ball goes over the hoop and proving to Johnny and Jaehyun that he still sucks at basketball, but unluckily almost hits a passerby.

You.

“Airball!”

You turn to the source of the noise as you let out a surprised yell as you duck to avoid the rouge basketball, falling to the ground and letting out a string of curses. Mark rushes over after his Spidey senses went off, shooting a ball of webs to knock it off its course of hitting you.

“Are you okay?”

You look up to see a concerned Mark as he helps you up, “Dude, I am so sorry. That could have ended really badly. Did you get hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Johnny and Jaehyun follow Mark to check up on you as you stare at the 3 attractive men paying too much attention to you.

“I’m okay, really. I didn’t even get hit. Just was caught off guard.”

The trio are unconvinced as they inspect your arms and head. Mark is focused on checking for any injury – even a millimeter of a scratch – on your right arm as Jaehyun checks the range of motion on your left arm and Johnny is asking you how many fingers he’s holding up.

“I’m not hurt, but I’ll still get checked up the clinic.” You bargain to get the attractive strangers to stop dotting over you.

“I’ll walk you!” Mark volunteers as he grabs your backpack off the floor and waves bye to his friends. Johnny and Jaehyun refuse to leave until they exchange their number with you to check up but also to make it up to you later. You tell them that it’s not necessary, but the pair insist as Mark gets you to leave.

He quickly introduces himself and you do it in return. Walking to the clinic was peaceful as both you and Mark’s steps were in sync. The crisp spring air helped calm your nerves. You know that you weren’t hurt but it would be best to get a check-up by a nurse.

“I’m really sorry again.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Let’s just get you to the clinic.”

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After a quick check-up with a nurse, you are deemed “okay” with no external or internal injuries. Mark gives you back your backpack as you thank him and are returned with another long string of apologies.

“Here, let me – no us – make it up to you.” Mark opens his phone to create a group chat between the four of you.

            we’re sorry

            mark if ur free this week we would like to buy u lunch

            bc dinner sounds like a date

            not that we wouldn’t date u

            u seem great !

            this is mark btw

            johnny what mark is trying to say is that we don’t want to make you uncomfortable

but we also want to make it up to you so lunch this week - johnny

            jaehyun it’s jaehyun i know a great café w vegan options

            you you guys really don’t have to make it up to me

            i’m okay !! a nurse checked me

            johnny thank god ur not hurt

“So, are you free this week?”

You look away from your phone at Mark staring at you. You quickly look away at the students walking past you. You feel nervous as Mark is cute and being near him is not helping your poor heart.

“Yeah, I can do Wednesday or this weekend.”

You have to work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with your two in-person classes on the other days and your two fully online classes spread throughout the week. Luckily, working at the bookstore on campus was flexible and allowed you to complete homework whenever you had free time.

“I know this is an annoying question, but what’s your year and major?”

“I’m a sophomore majoring in Health Sciences.”

Mark’s eyes light up, “I’m a sophomore too! But I’m a Biomed major. We’re kinda in similar majors.”

“We might even have a class together.” You joke and let out a laugh, but your mouth shuts as Mark has his printed schedule in hands and extended in your direction.

Your joke turns out to be true as you both share the same evening class on Tuesday and Thursday. Which is a good thing because at least you know someone in that class. A friend possibly.

“Do you work?”

“I work at the radio, so if you ever tune into 27.1 FM you will hear playlists I put together.”

“Ugh, that sounds like such a fun job. I work at the bookstore. I mean, don’t get me wrong I like it there, but it’s never busy for my shifts.”

A notification on Mark’s phone makes him freeze up, but before you can ask what’s wrong he quickly bids you goodbye as he rushes off. You decide to head to work and hope that nothing else out of the ordinary happens today.

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On the plus side, your shared class with Mark has been going well so far. During the first class the day after you met him, you got to the classroom early and saved him a seat.

You watch as people slowly trickle into class as you held out a small hope that Mark would want to sit next to you. The class was almost full with just a handful of seats left – two directly in front of the professor’s podium, one in the very back by the other door, and the one you’ve been saving. He arrives at the last minute, and you watch him scan the room, hopefully looking for you, but once your eyes meet and Mark grins, your heart started racing.

Squeezing between people already in their seats, he reaches the open seat as you move your backpack from the chair to under the table. The professor starts the first day lecture of going over the syllabus, but you tune them out as your attention was… elsewhere.

Mark sits next to you, typing on his laptop as the professor talks. His outfit is a simple green hoodie with tan cargo pants and beat up black converse, yet the outfit compliments him. His hair is fluffy and a little messy as he runs his hand through it in an attempt to fix it. You notice that he’s breathing hard like he ran to get to class. You reach into your backpack to grab your water bottle and place it next to his hand. Mark pauses from typing notes as you turn your head back to the professor.

“Thanks.” He mumbles as he drinks the water.

“Don’t worry, I have another water bottle in my car. You can just give it back to me next class.” You whisper back while pretending to be interested in the professor’s grading policy.

When the second class rolls around, you’re surprised to see Mark is the first person in class, sitting in the same spot with his backpack on the seat you were sitting in last time and your water bottle on the table.

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Saturday is the only day you are all free for lunch. Jaehyun, who keeps telling you to call him Jae, promises that this lunch will be the best lunch of your life and how he knows a worker. He’s brought it up every time he saw you while you were working. Johnny was no help either as he kept asking you super specific questions you would have no idea how to answer.

Johnny leans on a display table full of notebooks while flipping through a psychology textbook, “What kind of wood is this table?”

You let out another deep sigh as you put on your customer service voice to answer yet another question from Johnny Suh. “Sorry, I don’t know.”

“Do you know someone who would?”

Johnny smirks as he puts on his sunglasses. You turn around to reshelve new chemistry textbooks when a tap on your shoulder has you seeing Jaehyun holding a cookbook open.

“Do you like” He turns the cookbook back to himself as he squints, “Maultaschen?”

“What do you know about Germany?”

Jaehyun closes the cookbook as he shoots you his best dimpled smile, “Nothing.”

“Guys, I’m trying to work.”

“Yeah, and we’re being customers.”

Johnny sasses you as he pushes the cart of textbooks away from you. “Don’t pretend that we don’t make your shifts better.”

You can’t argue that because it is true, but you’re also afraid that your boss might think you’re slacking and goofing around with friends on the clock.

“I do love it when you guys come see me while I’m working, but I don’t want my boss to think I’m slacking.”

Jaehyun leans on your shoulder as he looks around the empty bookstore. “Bro, you’re the best employee here by far, but if your boss thinks otherwise, we can give a good review.”

“You? Slacking?” Johnny lets out a laugh as puts some textbooks on the highest shelf. “Slacking is scared of you. And Spider-Man.”

“Here he goes.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes as Johnny scoffs.

“Spider-Man is the coolest superhero ever. I’m jealous of all the people that get to see him work in real time.”

“Spider-Man?”

Johnny’s jaw drops, “Yo… you don’t know Spider-Man? You know, the masked guy in blue and red and has a spider sign on his chest. Stops bank robbers and saves people in car crashes. The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

“Oh… his name is Spider-Man?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna brag, but” Johnny leans closer to you, “I basically coined the name. The story’s really cool and super long, so I’ll save it for lunch.”

The other brunette fixes his backpack straps, “I should head to basketball practice soon, but we’ll text you later with the details. See you tomorrow.”

The duo leaves you to finish your tasks, but with less work as they helped while talking to you. You can’t help fighting the smile on your face at the idea of having plans with friends.

Lunch! With friends! Friends that you made in university and not the same friends you had back home that you knew from elementary school.

Maybe things were looking up for you.

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Spider-Man business had never been easier. Petty thefts had gone down. The city was running smoothly like normal, which was great for Mark as he could focus on schoolwork and improving his swinging skills.

Currently, the vigilante was patrolling the city on the lookout for any danger. Nothing was coming through the crime watch app connected to his watch. He has 10 more minutes until lunch with Johnny, Jaehyun, and You.

Once he reaches the café building’s rooftop, Mark drops down and enters through the stairwell door going directly into the janitor’s room to change. The doors are unlocked, which is not the safest but it’s convenient for Mark, he quickly changes into a white tee, light wash jeans, and the same black converse. The suit and mask are stuffed into his backpack as he goes back out to the roof to web down to the ground to enter through the café entrance like a normal person.

He's constantly on the lookout as he drops down near the trash bins. When he walks in, Mark is the first out of your group to arrive. He snags a booth in the corner as he checks his phone.

            we’re sorry

            mark i got us a booth

            jaehyun be there in 5

            image attached

Mark smiles at the selfie Jaehyun took with him and Johnny on either side of you. Jaehyun does a peace sign pose, Johnny is making a kissy face, and you’re just softly smiling. A smile that Mark Lee cannot look away from.

“What are you looking at?”

Mark gets spooked by you as Johnny and Jaehyun slide into the opposite side leaving you to sit next to him. He quickly locks his phone as his roommates give him teasing looks.

The server, Na Jaemin from fraternity Dream, hands out menus and readies his tablet. “Hi. Can I get you all started with any drinks?”

“2 vanilla iced coffees, 1 mango smoothie, and 1 ice matcha latte with coconut milk.” Johnny easily recites as Jaemin types it.

“I’ll be back with those as you look over the menu.”

As Jaemin walks away, you look surprised at Johnny, “How did you know my drink order?”

“You’ve sent a selfie with the same drink the past three days.”

You slump back against the cushion. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Not as embarrassing as Johnny thinking he named Spider-Man.”

Mark tenses at the mention of his other identity. He steals a glance in your direction to see if you noticed, but you’re too busy watching his friends start bickering.

“Bro! I totally did!”

“No, dude. You did not.”

Before the duo can start up another pointless fight, you remind Johnny of his story time.

“At least someone’s interested. As I was saying before, it was early October last year and I was walking to the subway when this massive car crash happened in front of me. I thought I was going to get killed, but then I was suddenly out of the way. Some dude in spandex had pulled me out of the way of one of the cars and then he started pulling people out of the wreck. He even jumped over a 10-ton truck. It was insane. After the fire department and ambulance came to help, the dude shot out a web and it came to me, “Spider-Man”, so I yelled that, and he turned around to give me a thumbs up before swinging away. So basically Spider-Man owes me for that copyright, but I’ll let it slide because he saved my life.”

Mark laughs at Johnny’s retelling of the story because of the way he tells people. The superhero was just glad that he had the spidey sense to save one of his best friends.

Jaemin comes back with the drinks and takes food orders.

“Spider-Man is cool. I’m a fan.”

Mark chokes on the first sip of his smoothie from your casual confession as Johnny high fives you.

“Why do you like the Spider Boy?” Jaehyun questions you. Mark sits up slightly straighter in his seat as he focuses all his attention on your answer.

“Do you remember that major subway incident where some asshole pushed that lady onto the tracks?”

The guys nod their heads.

“I was waiting for the train when it happened. I didn’t see the asshole that did it as I was on my phone, but then the frantic yelling of people started and some good samaritans trying to help the lady off the tracks. Then, all of the sudden, Spider-Man runs in and saves her. Thank god he did before the train arrived and he calmed her down while she told him about the person who did it. I just remember feeling so useless but wanting to do more.”

Mark looks over at you as you stir your drink with a spoon, his heart sinking as he remembers. It was the first time he became a hero. The first person he saved – Ms. Smith works at the corner flower shop that his mom loves.

“And I even… never mind.”

“No finish your sentence.”

“Johnny’s going to make fun of me.”

“I won’t let him.”

“Well, I kinda have a crush on him.” You immediately put your head between your arms on the table in an effort to hide away.

Mark freezes at your confession as Jaehyun lets out an “awe” and Johnny’s jaw drops.

“You like Spider-Man?”

“I know. How do you even like a person when you’ve never seen their face, but it’s his personality. In every story about him saving or helping others, he’s always described as the nicest person ever.”

Mark’s ears are turning red from the compliment. He would have asked for what else you thought about Spider-Man, but Jaemin came back with their orders.

“Yo Jaehyun, are you coming to DREAM’s party Friday?”

“I should be free next week if that invitation extends to my friends.”

“Any friend of Jaehyun’s is a friend of mine. Can you get the football team to bring kegs again? Haechan’s throwing the party this time and he won’t shut the fuck up about it.”

“I can get the guys together to do that. I’ll text him.”

“Thanks man. Enjoy your food, guys.”

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You and Mark meet up and walk to class together. He fills you in on all the bullshit Johnny and Jaehyun got into over the weekend. Something about making a short film where they switch bodies and tried to get Mark to film it.

Before you both can enter the building where your class is, the distant sound of sirens gets closer. You ignore it as you go to open the door, but Mark stops you.

“I, um, have a family emergency so I’ll miss class. Text me. Bye.” Mark weirdly stammers before giving you a quick hug.

You’re left standing in shock as he runs away.

Mark runs to the dumpster behind the university as he quickly changes into his suit. He stuffs his clothes in his backpack and webs it to a lamppost before heading into action. His spidey sense alerted him as soon as the sirens passed, and the app informed him of a fire in an apartment complex a street up.

Once he swings onto the scene, firefighters are battling the fire and evacuating the building. Mark propels himself to the top floor to check for any civilians.

You’re concerned about Mark as he left abruptly and isn’t responding to any of your texts.

            you i hope your family emergency isn’t too serious

            just let me know you’re ok!

            we didn’t do too much in class, but i’ll send my notes

            going to the library after class to print something for a class

You’ve never been to the library at 10 PM on a Tuesday night, but there’s a first time for everything. It was shitty that your printer in your dorm had to stop working last night. The first floor of the library was unsurprisingly packed with students as the university’s coffee shop was adjoined and open until 2 AM.

You got into the elevator as the printers were located on the fourth floor. The fourth floor was empty because most people preferred to keep electronic files electronic, but of course your morning class’ professor made the class print their papers to turn in.

Printing the paper was a quick task. There was certainly no line to wait in. You tuck the sacred 5-page paper into a folder to keep pristine and leave the library. You check your phone again for any word from Mark, but nothing. You go to call him, but then the elevator jerks to a stop as the light shuts off. You press the emergency call button and wait for an operator. You try calling Mark again, but your phone can’t get cell service and your battery’s dying.

Sinking to your knees, you hang your head between your hands as the ringing becomes background noise.

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Mark rushes back to university after the fire, swiftly changing back and shoving his suit into his bag. He checks his phone to see the texts from you and calls you. When your call goes immediately to voicemail, he knows something is wrong.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up and Mark books it to the library. The first floor is filled with chatter and students looking normal so he knows that only you must be in trouble. He goes to the elevators where there’s a student waiting for one.

“Are you waiting for the elevator?”

The girl looks up from texting, “Yup, the other one isn’t working again. Ugh so annoying.”

Fuck.

The other elevator returns and Mark steps in with the girl. She presses the next floor and goes back to her phone.

A million scenarios play out in Mark’s mind. Were you claustrophobic? How long have you been stuck in the elevator? Were you alone?

The silent ride was eating him alive as every second felt like an eternity.

When the doors open and Mark basically throws himself out of the elevator as the girl walks around him, judging. Mark’s senses aren’t going off on the second or third floor, he goes up again.

The second the elevator starts moving up to the fourth floor, his senses kick in. When the doors open, Mark calls out your name. When your muffled voice responds from the neighboring elevator he sighs in relief.

“Mark, can you help me?”

“Is help on the way?”

“No.” Mark starts freaking out. “The emergency button doesn’t work, and my phone died a little while ago, but it wouldn’t even help because my service wasn’t working.”

“Why didn’t you call 911?”

“I’m not dying or in serious trouble!”

“W-what? This is an emergency! Hold on let me get someone!”

Mark runs down the hallway and quick changes into Spider-Man. He shoves his backpack behind a printer in the back corner and runs back to you.

Mark clears his throat before speaking in a lower tone, “Hi!”

“Um hi?”

“I’m going to open the elevator doors, so please stand back!”

“Okay!”

Mark places his hands in the middle of both doors as he pushes the doors open by force. After getting them open he holds out a hand to you as you look at him, well Spider-Man, in shock.

“Spider-Man?”

“Are you okay?”

You feebly nod as you allow Mark to pull you towards him.

“Are you sure you’re fine? I can take you to a clinic.”

You shake your head as Mark leads you down the stairs to the first floor while calming you down, passing confused or excited students. When both of you reach the entrance, Mark tells a skeptical security guard about the broken elevator.

Mark is about to swing away to change when you grab his hand. “Did you see my friend? He has brown hair, brown eyes, wearing a yellow hoodie?”

“I sensed there was someone in trouble and he said he was finding a janitor.”

“Thanks, I’ll go find him. And, um, thank you again.”

Mark looks into your eyes full of gratitude and sends you a wave before swinging away. He makes sure to get far enough before u-turning to the back of the library to change. 5 minutes later, he’s running around to the entrance where you are still standing in shock.

Mark pulls you into a hug as you tell him how Spider-Man saved you.

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Haechan’s party was tonight, and you had no idea what you were going to wear.

Jaehyun had surprised you at 8 in morning by waking you up, endlessly calling your phone until you told him the password to open the door. A code you were going to immediately change after he leaves.

“Jae, it’s too early for any bullshit.”

He moves his sunglasses from his face to push back his hair, looking dangerously sexy. You have to shield your eyes from his blinding attractiveness.

“I need some help getting the kegs from Jungwoo.”

“Ugh,” You draw out the word as you throw one of your extra pillows at him which he catches, “I don’t want to get up.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun says as he effortlessly picks you up from your bed. “Now you’re up.”

“Put me down, Jeong.”

“Woah, not the last name. Putting you down.”

He gently sets you on your feet from the princess carry he was holding you in.

“I don’t want to know where you’re storing all that muscle to be able to pick me up.”

He smirks, “Wanna see my 8 pack?”

“Absolutely not. Now stand outside in the lobby so I can change.”

You meet him in the lobby after quickly throwing on an oversized shirt and biker shorts. You check over your bag that you have everything you need for the day – your phone, lip balm, sunscreen, your wallet, hand sanitizer, blotting sheets, and your water bottle.

“Okay, I guess I’m ready to tackle the day with you.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not doing anything too crazy.”

“I have very little trust in you at 8:30 AM.”

He puts his free hand on his chest as he fakes getting hurt, “You wound me.”

You roll your eyes in response as you start walking out of your dorm building, Jaehyun following you from behind.

Jaehyun leads the way to the football field as you walk next to him. The walk isn’t too bad and soon enough you hear various guys yelling and spot footballs flying through the air.

“Hey Jungwoo!”

A shirtless, blonde guy jogs up to the you two and dabs Jaehyun up.

“Hey Captain! I thought you weren’t coming to practice until later?” Jungwoo smiles before turning to you, “Oh, and you are?”

You politely introduce yourself as Jungwoo stares into your soul. “It’s a shame I haven’t seen your pretty face around.”

His remark takes you aback as you turn in shock to Jaehyun.

“Right? Imagine my surprise when I saw her for the first time.”

You avoid eye contact, not sure how to respond. “Um… thanks. We’re here to pick up some kegs?”

“Oh right! Let me get Yangyang.”

Jungwoo calls out to another guy behind him, thankfully he is clothed because you don’t know if you could survive another attractive, shirtless guy. He runs up as he greets you.

“I have it in my car, so follow me. Jungwoo, tell coach I went to the nurse or something.”

“Okay!”

Jungwoo jogs off to get back to practice. You and Jaehyun follow Yangyang to his car so he can drop you off at the DREAM frat house. The drive is short since the fraternity and sorority houses are near campus and the sports facilities.

Outside of the DREAM fraternity house on the front lawn are a few guys running around with water guns. The three of you get out of the car, grabbing their attention. Yangyang and Jaehyun wave at them causing one of them to run inside. As the kegs are being unloaded from the trunk, who you presume Haechan is, walks out.

The pretty boy with purple hair waves at you as he takes a hit from his neon green vape. He walks over as he blows a fat cloud into the air and pockets the vape.

He nods his head at you and leans against Yangyang’s car. “Hey.”

“Hi?”

“Are you coming to the party tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Cool.” He wets his lips as he looks you up and down, “Wear something hot, ‘kay?”

“Okay?”

He gets off Yangyang’s car as he winks at you.

“Thanks for the kegs. I’ll get the guys to bring them into the garage.”

Haechan taps his phone causing the garage door to open showing you the set of workout equipment on the side and a black Porsche parked inside. 2 guys with blonde and Oreo hair come out from the door inside and start moving the kegs.

“Hey Shotaro! Hey Renjun!”

Jaehyun calls out as the frat bros wave back at him.

“So, are you ready to go?” Yangyang stands next to you as you nod. He opens the passenger door for you to get inside. Jaehyun sits smack in the middle in the uncomfortable seat so he can talk to you.

“What next?”

“Our pretty girl might need a shopping trip.”

You felt like the “ugly” but actually stunning main girl whose only transformation is taking off their glasses or hair out from a ponytail and it’s the makeover montage scene in a 2000s romcom. Jaehyun and Yangyang were running around in the local mall piling on different types of clothes into your arms to try on.

Two hours passed by already and you were getting sweaty from trying on the various combinations of tops, skirts or jeans, and dresses. It was annoyingly sweet of Jaehyun and Yangyang, who you just met today, to go out of their way to help you find something to wear.

“Honestly, I could find something in my closet or a thrift store.”

“If we don’t find something in the next 30 minutes I know a good thrift store.” Yangyang throws a black minidress at you and you let it hit your face.

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As you walk down the street where Johnny parked while fixing the biker shorts under your dress.

Johnny opens the front door of the fraternity only for you to be greeted by the sight of a hundred or so people engaging in various acts of grinding, making out, drinking, or dancing to whatever playlist DJ Yangyang picked.

“Oh my god.” You walk in as Jaehyun and Johnny tail behind you, making sure to stare down anyone who looks at you in a mean or creepy way.

You smile and wave at Yangyang in the corner of the living room as he motions at your trio to come over. The three of you move through the crowd of people partying and try not to have any kind of alcohol accidentally spilling on your new outfit.

Yangyang removes the headphones from his head to his neck and talks in your ear, “You look hot!”

“Thank you! Can we get you anything?”

“Whatever has the least amount of alc by volume.”

“Got it.”

Johnny, Jaehyun, and You find the kitchen entrance behind Yangyang’s DIY DJ booth and open the various coolers filled with alcohol. Johnny helps you pick out Yangyang’s drink from the sea of canned beverages while Jaehyun gets drinks for you all.

As you walk back to give Yangyang his drink, Haechan is talking to him and spots you getting closer to them.

“Well, aren’t you a sight to behold.”

Haechan holds a handout as you take it, spinning you around him.

“That dress fits you perfectly.”

You shyly thank him as you did feel amazing in the red and black dress you bought at a thrift store after the three of you gave up at the mall earlier, but you hid the dress from them so you could pay for it. Jaehyun couldn’t stop staring at you and Johnny couldn’t stop complimenting you when they picked you up from your dorm. You felt that you needed to donate some of your old clothes to keep the good streak going.

The people around you start yelling and both of your heads turn in the direction of the kitchen when a loud crash is heard.

“Fuck. I bet someone tipped over a keg stand. Gotta go.”

He winks at you as he walks into the kitchen. You look around the room to see that J² are nowhere to be seen.

            you hey!! where did you guys go??

            johnny  we’re upstairs hanging with mark

            johnny jeno and jaemin are coming down to get u

You stand by the end of the staircase as you scroll on your phone when someone taps the back of your shoulder. Turning around to see 2 more beautiful guys as they smile at you. The guy with black hair and an undercut introduces himself as Jeno and the guy with brown hair introduces himself as Jaemin.

J² sent 2J to get you. Funny.

They kindly escort you upstairs, down a hallway on the left, and to the room at the end. The door has a sign that says

“HAECHANNIE’S ROOM!

LADIES - FREE

GUYS - $20”

You knock on the door and walk in after Johnny says it’s open.

“Hey.” You greet Johnny, Jaehyun, and Mark who are sitting on the bed with various drinks and snacks surrounding them. Mark moves a reuseable bag full of chips so you can sit next to him as Jeno and Jaemin sit on beanbags.

“So, how’s the party going for y’all?” You ask the frat bros as you dig into a bag of your favorite chips.

Jeno and Jaemin jump into a story of how Renjun challenged Haechan and Shotaro to a keg stand contest where Shotaro won and Haechan complained the rest of the time setting up. Haechan also must carry out a dare later tonight, but Renjun is keeping it a secret.

During the story, you keep looking at Mark to see his expressions throughout the story time. You like him, you realized this after Spider-Man saved you in the elevator, the way Mark comforted you and stayed with you the entire night. Even sleeping on the pull-out bed attached to your bed that was a little too small for him. Mark was paying attention to the story, but right after 2J finished telling the story, he abruptly gets up and runs out the room.

“Is Mark okay?” You ask bewildered as the rest of the guys are nonchalant.

“Oh yeah, Mark does this a lot.” Jaemin tells you as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Really?”

Johnny nods, “Yeah ever since the start of last year Mark’s been really weird like weirder than usual.”

“And stronger for some reason.” Jaehyun adds. “We started working out together last semester. When he thought I wasn’t looking, he maxed out the bench press. I can’t do that and I’m active in sports.”

“So now we think he’s doing steroids.”

“Dude don’t say that.”

“Kidding,” Johnny says as he looks at you. “But there is something going on… like he’s keeping a secret from us.”

“Are you insinuating that Mark is Spider-Man?”

Johnny shrugs. “I didn’t say that, but I also did not not say that.”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink, dude.”

“I’m literally sober. I have to drive you and Jaehyun home tonight.”

As you’re handing Johnny a bottle of water, Shotaro opens the door.

“Johnny or Jaehyun, can you please talk Haechan out of jumping from the roof into the pool.”

The two oldest guys let out a sigh as they get up to stop Haechan from doing something stupid and getting hurt.

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Your little group stands outside on the pool deck as people crowd around the pool chanting at Haechan to “jump”. Johnny and Jaehyun are sticking their head out of someone’s room scolding a tipsy Haechan who is standing near the ledge. It’s only 7 feet between the roof and the pool, but the pool is another 6 feet to dive into and the entire situation just screams “danger” to you.

Haechan is getting dangerously close to the edge causing Johnny to step out onto the roof as Jaehyun holds one of his hands.

“Haechan, we’re bringing you inside.”

“No.” He puffs a cloud of vape into Johnny’s face.

“You’re being an asshole, get in.”

Haechan’s balance is off because as he steps back a bit, his right foot misses the ledge. You can’t watch. The crowd is yelling. You look away only to see a figure jump over the fence.

Spider-Man thwips a web to put an inflatable pool floatie a foot of the ground with another floatie under it to cushion Haechan’s fall. Thankfully, Haechan falls right on the floatie and is safe from breaking a bone or something worse on the concrete.

“Are you okay?” The masked hero asks Haechan as he helps him stand up and check his body.

An eerily similar situation that mirrors exactly what Mark did when you were almost hit by a basketball.

Rushing over to Haechan, you hug him as you’re actively scolding him.

“Never do that ever again! You could have broken your legs or spine or died!”

“Excuse me.” Spider-Man clears his throat as you turn your head to him. “Are you a friend of his?”

“Yes.”

“It would be best to check that he doesn’t have any injuries and keep him inside.”

“Johnny’s probably going to bubble wrap him now.”

“I have to go now but have a good night.”

Spider-Man waves you and everyone else at the party bye as the crowd cheers for him. He then swings out of DREAM’s backyard as Johnny, Jaehyun, Jeno, and Jaemin meet you outside. They all hug Haechan and scold him as well.

“You’re cut off.”

“Seriously?” Haechan whines.

“From everything. End of discussion.”

Most of the crowd disperses inside to tell or show their friends a video of Spider-Man saving Haechan. You’re putting the pool floaties back in the pool when you almost fall in.

“Hey–woah there!”

You look wide up at Mark, who appeared out of nowhere, holding your waist to stop you from accidentally falling in the pool.

“Mark! Thanks for saving me.”

“Anytime.”

You stand back up away from the pool ledge as you smile at Mark. You notice that he’s sweating a bit.

“Could we head inside? I, um, wanted to ask you something.”

He nods his head as the two of you walk inside and then upstairs where there aren’t that many people. You hear commotion in the hallway that leads to Haechan’s room. You’re both curious, so you walk down the hallway to see Jaehyun standing guard outside his room.

“What is happening?”

“Johnny is inside making sure Haechan can’t escape out his window. Well, if he can get out of the bubble wrap duct taped to his body.”

“Figures. Mark and I are going to talk in someone’s room.”

“Oh?” Jaehyun gives you a look.

“We’re not going to fuck in someone’s bed.”

“Sure it isn’t.”

Mark blushes as you grab his hand to walk away down the other hallway. You spot Shotaro standing outside his door.

“Hey Shotaro! Can we borrow your room to talk quickly?”

“Yeah! Just lock the door after and find me at the DJ booth when you’re done. I don’t want a repeat of the first day of summer party where someone threw up in my bed.”

“Of course, and don’t worry, we won’t fuck in your bed.”

You make Shotaro speechless and Mark blushes even harder. You open the door to Shotaro’s room and get inside. His room is cutely decorated with pictures of him alongside the rest of the fraternity and tiny little trinkets sprinkled throughout. The window is open and as you look out of it you can see that his room overlooks the grassy area beside the pool.

A thought comes into your head as you look at Mark who is sitting on Shotaro’s bed across from you.

“I’ve got a lot to say so please hear me out for its entirety.” He nods his head as you stand in front of him. “Mark, I have a crush on you. I thought you were cute the first time I saw you after that basketball almost took me out. I was so excited when we ended up sharing a class together and you sat next to me the next class after we met. Then when you comforted me after Spider-Man saved me. That was the moment I knew that I liked you. I like you, Mark. Maybe even more than that.”

He stares at you awestruck.

“It’s okay if you don’t like me back. Hope we can still be friends no matter what. I just want you to know.”

“I like you too. A lot. I liked you ever since I almost accidentally hit you with a basketball. I liked you when you were excited when you found out we shared a class. I liked you when you saved a seat for me and let me borrow your water bottle. I was so happy when you were safe from being trapped in an elevator. I really like you and, if you want to, I hope we can date.”

“I would love to date you, Mark, but now I’m going to do something that might ruin our relationship before it even starts?”

Mark looks adorably confused as you walk backwards to stand in front of the window.

“You know that I also have a crush on Spider-Man. And I’ve had this hunch since he saved me in the elevator. I didn’t realize it when it was happening due to the adrenaline, but then thinking back on it – when you left while we were walking to class that one time for a “family emergency” and Spider-Man had been spotted right helping firefighter put out a nearby fire. Then, I got stuck in the library elevator and Spider-Man miraculously came to save me. Sure, it could have been a coincidence since the fire was near the university, but I wasn’t in that dire of a situation. I could’ve waited for you to find me after I texted you. Then, just right now, you leave as we’re talking with 4J then when Haechan is in danger Spider-Man shows up in the nick of time to save him? In every situation I brought up, you were there then gone, Spider-Man shows up then leaves, and then you’re back? Never in the same room to witness the masked hero. Something’s not adding up.”

“Am I Spider-Man?” Mark asks while nervously laughing. “You mean you think I’m Spider-Man?”

“I’d bet my life on it.” You tell him seriously as you sit on the window ledge.

“That’s serious.”

“I am serious.”

You continue getting farther out of the window as you possibly can.

Mark slowly stands up, “What are you doing?”

“If I’m wrong… have 9-1-1 ready.”

You then lean back as you fall out of Shotaro’s window hearing Mark yell your name, you barely have your entire body out the window when you stop moving. Opening your eyes, bunches of white strings surround your head and shoulders – Mark slowly brings you back inside Shotaro’s room.

The silence between the two of you is deafening until you open your mouth.

“I fucking knew it.”

Marks hugs you tightly. “Please… never do that again. You scared me.”

“Do you still like me?”

“D-Do I still like you? Yes, I still like you very much.”

“I scared you that bad, huh?”

“What if I wasn’t Spider-Man? Then what? You fall and die?”

“I wouldn’t have done it unless I was sure. Would a kiss make you feel better?”

“A kiss away from the window and maybe on solid ground would.”

masterlist | bonus chapter

BONUS CHAPTER NSFW MDNI 18+, instead of a sweet confession to Mark you decide to tease his masked persona, the ending in an alternate universe like the alternate universe where this story was real life – posted 9/24/2024

[ugotnojamzzz]

Rulers of Ruin

Chapter 8

Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, eventual smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader

Synopsis: There will come a day when I will sit down and write an alluring synopsis for this series. But that day hasn't come just yet lol. Stay tuned for more chapters to come.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language. Also, don’t come for me over the theme, people. It’s an Alternate Universe, which means the bangtan boys are essentially what I like to call meat puppets to serve the storyline. This is obviously not a projection of their actual real-life personas.

Wordcount: 1.4k

Masterlist

Chapter 7

Jimin hopped towards the new arrival, his arms wrapping around his friend in a tight embrace. “It’s about time,” he exclaimed, his voice unusually warm. The young man returned the hug, patting Jimin on the back. 

YN’s eyes were drawn to him, her gaze traveling over his figure with keen curiosity. This was her first proper look at the guy who had barged into her bathroom the night before. No longer covered in blood, sweat and rain, his appearance was now starkly different yet no less intense.

His attire was a jarring contrast to the others’ casual, brighter clothing—black combat boots laced tightly, dark cargo pants and a black teeshirt that, despite its looseness, couldn’t hide the outline of an athletic physique.

He looked like he belonged somewhere else: a battlefield, perhaps, but certainly not framed by the pastel towers of cakes and pastries that adorned the breakfast table. 

YN’s eyes traced the sharp angles of his face. His black hair, slightly tousled, framed his face in soft waves, contrasting sharply with his stern, almost brooding expression. The most striking feature, however, was the single eyebrow piercing that glinted under the dining room lights.

His posture was rigid and controlled. His dark gaze scanned the room with a predatory vigilance, it locked on hers for a fraction longer than comfort allowed, a flicker of something unspoken before he tore it away.

Namjoon went to sit at the end of the table, and the breakfast resumed, the atmosphere growing livelier with the new arrivals. Hoseok’s bright energy filled the room as he animatedly recounted more stories from their mission, punctuated by regular eyerolls from Soyeon.

Seated with an air of composed authority, the girl made a subtle gesture indicating the seat next to hers. However, Jungkook, without acknowledging the gesture, silently took the seat next to YN and began grabbing some food from the lavish spread.

YN glanced at him briefly, then returned her focus to her own plate. The two ate in silence while the buzz of conversation around them continued.

“So,” Jungkook spoke eventually, his tone stern, “I hear you’re the reason they took all the knives and cables out of my floor.”

YN sighed, unsure whether that statement warranted a response. She didn’t like his attitude. «  I’m not exactly slap happy about it myself, » she eventually muttered, eyes still focused on her food. 

Around them, the conversation continued. Namjoon, seated at the head of the table, was deep in discussion with Hoseok and Taehyung about the latest developments from their mission. Soyeon, clearly unimpressed with Jungkook’s choice of seating, sipped her tea with a cool detachment.

Y/N wasn’t sure whether to feel offended or unnerved by how utterly indifferent they all seemed to her presence. The conversations flowed as though she were invisible. But what unsettled her most wasn’t the casual way they ignored her—it was the content of their discussion.

They were openly talking about business. Not in hushed tones or veiled euphemisms, but out in the open, as though the sensitive nature of their operations meant nothing—even in the presence of a raven. It made her uneasy. Were they so confident she wouldn’t understand? Or were they confident she’d never leave this place to use what she’d heard?

Then again, most of it was useless to her—snippets of code and vague references to missions that offered no real insight into their plans. And the few scraps of tangible information were trivial, irrelevant to her clan’s concerns. 

What truly confused her, though, was how natural it all felt. They weren’t only discussing operations. There was banter, a stray joke punctuating a serious exchange, even the occasional nickname tossed into the mix. Namjoon and Hoseok laughed at something Taehyung muttered under his breath, and Jimin chimed in with a teasing jab aimed at Soyeon.

It was jarring. Y/N wasn’t used to this—this strange, almost familial atmosphere. In her own clan, the air had always been charged with authority and purpose. Conversations were orders. Names were titles. Discipline was king. 

But here, the contrast was stark. There was something unpolished, almost human about it all. It wasn’t just a group of operatives at a breakfast table—it was people. People who seemed to—for some reason— genuinely enjoy each other’s company, despite the dark, dangerous undercurrents that clearly tied them together.

Y/N hated that she couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t stop being fascinated by it.

Jungkook’s expression, however, seemed to darken with each passing minute, and he appeared lost in thought as he listened to Namjoon. The others didn’t seem to notice the change in his demeanor until he set his glass down on the table with a loud slam. Their conversation tapered off into awkward silence.

Soyeon raised an eyebrow, her eyes darting between YN and Jungkook. « Jesus, » she said dryly, « cheer up, Kookie. »

Just then, he abruptly stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. The sudden movement caught everyone’s attention. He shot a look at Namjoon, his eyes filled with unspoken frustration, and then turned on his heel, stomping out of the dining room without a word. Yoongi was the one to break the stunned silence.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked, his eyes flicking towards the door.

Namjoon sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Let’s just say he wasn’t thrilled about having been kept out of the loop concerning the raven operation.”

Jimin nodded in agreement. “To be fair, you kept us all in the dark until she got here,” he added, gesturing subtly toward YN.

“Well, you know how he can get,” Namjoon said, his tone understanding. 

Hoseok, ever the mood-lifter, leaned over and nudged YN teasingly. « Look at you, being the center of all the drama, » he mumbled.

“I, for one, don’t blame him,” Soyeon stated sharply. “You could’ve kept us informed, Namjoon.”

The leader shot her a warning glance. “You know it’s not that simple. We had to move fast, and security was tight.”

She shifted in her seat. “All I’m saying is that this,” she continued, her eyes narrowing as she looked pointedly at YN, “is not exactly a pleasant surprise for any of us.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t say a word, unwilling to reward the girl’s clear disdain with a response. Like it’s been a pleasant surprise for me, perhaps? Stupid bitch.

“One day, Soyeon,” Seokjin said suddenly, settling down his chopsticks “we’ll find you smiling, and the world might just end.”

The girl rolled her eyes, but didn’t push the issue further. Instead, she turned her attention back to her breakfast, the tension in the room slowly dissipating as conversation resumed.

YN could overhear a hushed conversation between Yoongi and Namjoon about a potential threat. “We need to keep an eye on things up north. They’ve been too quiet lately,” Yoongi mumbled.

Hoseok, sensing YN’s discomfort, leaned in again, his voice gentle. “Don’t let it get to you, it’s nothing personal.”

—

As breakfast wrapped up, Namjoon sent everyone on their way, the atmosphere shifting from casual to business in a matter of seconds. Backs straightening and poker faces on.

 Taehyung fell into step beside YN, ready to escort her back to her quarters. The walk was quiet at first, the echo of their footsteps the only sound in the corridor.

« So, » YN finally broke the silence, « what’s the guy’s deal? »

Taehyung glanced down at her, confused. « My new roommate, » she added with a roll of her eyes. 

« Oh, » he said, « Jungkook, you mean? »

She nodded pensively, “He seemed pretty upset back there.”

 “Yeah, he can be intense when he’s in a mood,” he said with a small shrug. “He doesn’t like being left out of important stuff.»

YN crossed her arms, absorbing this new information. « Is he one of Namjoon’s top guys or something? »

“You could say that,” Taehyung chuckled softly, shaking his head. “He’s more than that, though.”

YN sent an inquiring look his way, to which Taehyung replied with a surprised scoff.

 “Jungkook’s family, » he added casually, « a brother, if you will. »

YN stopped in her tracks, turning to face Taehyung with a look of disbelief. “Namjoon doesn’t have any siblings,” she said, her voice firm.

« So? » he looked at her incredulously.

« So- »

«Chill out, I’m fucking with you, » he interrupted, «Look at you, trying to gather intel, » Taehyung nudged her.

As they reached her quarters, she paused, turning to Taehyung once more, her brow furrowed. « Listen, » he said before she could utter a word, « the mystery of Jeon Jungkook is just not my story to tell, I’m afraid. »

« Well, » she retorted, « if I’m going to be sleeping next door to that guy, I’d like to know what to expect. »

Taehyung stepped back into the elevator and turned back to look at her. “Don’t torture yourself,” he smirked, “He’s really not that bad.” 

YN watched the elevator doors close, her mind whirling with thoughts. She made her way back to her bedroom, replaying the morning’s events in her head.

As she closed the door behind her, the slight click of the latch offered a brief moment of relaxation. She walked over to her wardrobe, her fingers trailing over the clothing racks. The room was silent, the only sound being the soft rustle of fabric as she leaned forward into the clothes as though she was looking for something.

With a furtive glance, first towards the door, then to the security camera, YN reached into her waistband, feeling cool metal slide against her skin. Slowly, she pulled something out, the weight of it in her hand, oddly comforting.

She glanced down.

The polished surface of the cake knife in her hand reflected her troubled expression. The dull edge caught the light, glinting with a dangerous promise. 

It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

—

Hope you liked it. If some of you are intrigued or interested in finding out more, don't hesitate to interact and I'll start posting some more chapters! Also questions and remarks and feedback are welcome xxx

Chapter 9 (coming soon..)

Masterlist

Taglist

@princess-sunshyn

@loumin908

[badasbebi]

not my fault ➛ 2/2

read part one

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: discovering that a cute girl you saw at your college orientation is your roommate, you become eager to get to know her. however, things quickly go awry when she turns out to be much more difficult to get along with than you could've imagined and abruptly leaves you in the dust. fueled by your terrible experiences with her and rumors about her dating habits, you swear to stay away from her at all costs. will you be able to keep your promise?

✦ genre/au: fluff, smut, my poor attempt at a rom-com, college!au, enemies to lovers, (very slight) roommates to lovers

✦ word count: 9.8k (im still embarrassed)

✦ warnings: isn't proofread. MDNI!!!! top!bada, top!reader for 2 seconds, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), bada is a giver, one of my first attempts at smut so please bear with me lmao.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

At this point, the school needed to compensate you for how much time you were spending watching and judging their sports teams. Or, maybe you should be paying rent, with how often you're staying here. The thought alone makes you cringe. Tuition was enough. 

Your legs are crossed, and a notebook rests on your lap as you sit in the bleachers, observing the dance team once again. This time, you're not waiting for Lusher. You're here for Bada, who said she could only meet with you after practice today. You're just grateful you're indoors today, and away from volant objects.

It's been a few days since the interview, and you've managed to avoid seeing her in person as much as possible. You've been communicating solely through text, not even bothering to exchange words in class. You know it's childish, but you don’t have the vigor to deal with her head-on. Besides, this way, you can focus on your part of the project, and not Bada's... everything.

You scan the gym floor and pinpoint her. Today, she's wearing a short-sleeved shirt and another pair of cargo pants, driving you to deliberate about how many she owns. If you looked that good in everything, did it matter?

You shake your head, averting your eyes before she notices your staring. You're not even sure what the purpose of your being here is. You probably could've waited to come closer to the end of practice. it was an admittedly nice way to occupy your time while you waited, you assure yourself.

The team is working on a new routine, one that involves a lot of acrobatics. They're running through their routine for the third time. Each time, they seem to get better, their movements more fluid and precise. You watch, fascinated, as Bada twists and turns, her limbs moving in a way that seems almost impossible. She's incredible. She's probably the best dancer on the team, not that you would ever tell her that.

After what feels like an eternity, the music comes to an end, and the team collapses to the ground, panting and sweaty. You're a little out of breath just watching them.

"Good job, guys," Bada says, her voice ringing through the large gym.

"Thanks," someone calls out, her tone laced with exhaustion.

"Let's call it a day," she says.

There's a collective sigh of relief as the team gathers their things and starts to leave. A few people linger, chatting with each other. Bada is one of them, talking to a group of girls. You try not to stare, but it's hard not to notice the way she laughs and smiles around them.

You look away, darting your eyes around the room, when someone catches your eye. Once you realize who it is, your blood runs cold. How did you not notice her before? Probably because of Bada. Damn that woman.

Aiki is on the opposite side of the gym, standing near the door. She's talking to someone and hasn't seemed to notice you yet.

The last thing you need right now is to run into Aiki. That encounter last year was awkward enough. You have no interest in rehashing the whole mess, especially with Bada so nearby.

You snatch your stuff, flying down the bleachers at a speed you did not realize you were capable of. You take the steps two at a time, adrenaline is burning in your veins, nearly tripping over yourself in the process.

You finally reach the bottom, and without a second thought, duck under the bleachers, hiding yourself from view like a criminal hiding from the police. 

Your heart is racing, and you lean against a pole, trying to catch your breath. You peek out and see Aiki still hasn't noticed you. She's chatting animatedly with whoever she's talking to and doesn't seem concerned about finding you.

You breathe a sigh of relief, and slide down to the ground. You rest your head against the pole, and close your eyes, willing your heart rate to slow down. This was ridiculous. You needed to exercise more.

"What the hell, y/n?" a familiar voice calls from behind you. You scream, jumping up and banging your head on the metal.

"Ouch," you hiss, rubbing the tender spot.

"What are you doing?" Bada asks, her tone equal parts amusement and annoyance.

"Uh, nothing," you say, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"This is so weird," she states.

"Sorry," you mutter, ducking your head.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her tone softening.

"I'm fine," you say, brushing her off.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you sigh.

She takes a step towards you. "I can help you. I'm a nurse's aid, remember?" she points out, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

"No, it's fine, I'm okay."

"Okay, well, if you're not gonna tell me what's going on, can you come out from under there, at least?"

"Uh—"

"Y/n?!" Lusher's voice rings out, running up to the bleachers.

"Shit," you whisper. You did not need two witnesses present for this mortifying experience. 

"What are you doing?" Lusher says, peering over Bada's shoulder. 

"Nothing," you call, trying to sound casual.

"Why are you hiding under the bleachers right now?"

"I'm not," you lie, wincing. 

"Y/n," Bada says, shaking her head.

"Shhh," you hush.

"You're ridiculous," she chuckles.

"Both of you, come!" you hiss. 

"Is she serious right now?" Lusher whispers to Bada.

"Apparently," she sighs.

"Come on," you say, reaching out and grabbing Bada's wrist.

You pull her towards you, and she stumbles, losing her balance and landing on top of you. The both of you yelp in surprise, and a laugh escapes your mouth. It's surprisingly comfortable. You resist the urge to pull her closer.

"Sorry," Bada apologizes, her face inches from yours.

"It's okay," you say, your breath catching.

You're suddenly aware of the warmth of her body and the closeness of her lips.

"Uh, we should probably get up," she murmurs.

"Right," you say, nodding, but neither of you move.

"Hello?! Are you about to have sex?!" Lusher's annoyed voice snaps you out of your trance.

"No! uh, let's get up. Seriously," you say, gently pushing Bada off.

“Good idea,” she agrees. 

Bada stands up, and holds out her hand, helping you up.

"Thanks," you mumble, feeling your face grow hot.

"Y/n, seriously, what is going on?" Lusher demands, her patience wearing thin.

You step toward her, glaring. "When did Aiki join the dance team, huh? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Lusher's mouth widens into an 'o'. She sticks her finger up, gearing up to defend herself. 

"Um, she didn’t,” Bada cuts in. "She's just helping us choreograph some of our routines."

"Oh," you say. 

"She’s really good, so I thought it’d be fun to collaborate with her,” Bada explains.

"So, she's not a member of the dance team," Lusher clarifies, giving you a pointed look. 

"Nope," Bada says. 

"Oh, well, uh, good," you say, a mixture of confusion and relief swirling within you.

"So, why are you asking about Aiki?" Bada asks, rubbing the back of her neck.

"She's my ex."

"What?" Bada's mouth drops.

"Yeah,” you admit, woefully. 

"Really?"

"It's a long story," you sigh.

"Huh," Bada says, looking stunned.

"So, that's why you were hiding under the bleachers?" Lusher inquires.

"Yeah. I didn't feel like talking to her."

Bada still looks dumbfounded. She's staring at you, and it's starting to make you nervous.

"Well, that’s silly! But I'm glad you're not in danger, or whatever," Lusher says.

"No. I was,” you deadpan. 

Lusher snorts and shakes her head. "Anyway, I know you're here for Bada. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll leave you guys be," she says, wiggling her eyebrows, out of Bada's sight.

You hiss at her, imagining strangulation. 

"Bye, Bada. Bye, y/n. I'll see you at home," she calls, sauntering away. 

You shoot her a middle finger.

"Bye," Bada says with a small wave. 

She turns to face you, and she stares at you, hard, her eyes unreadable. Your stomach churns with anxiety.

"Nothing," she says, a small smile forming on her face.

"What are you smiling at?"

"I just didn't know that Aiki was your ex-girlfriend."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," you retort.

"True," she says, the smile never leaving her face.

"Anyway, can we get going now? We have work to do," you say, trying to get the conversation back on track.

"Right," she says. "Lead the way."

You walk side by side, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable.

"So," she starts, clearing her throat. "I was thinking...would you mind stopping somewhere and getting something to eat?"

You stop walking.

"Why? Are you hungry?" you ask, suspicious.

"Yeah, a little," she says, rubbing her stomach.

"What are you craving?"

"Anything is fine," she says, a little too quickly.

"Bada, just tell me," you groan, annoyed.

"Okay, fine. I've been wanting to try this new Korean BBQ place that opened a few blocks away."

You bite the inside of your cheek. Of course, she wants to go to a restaurant. You're not sure why you were expecting anything else.

"Um, I guess we could do that," you say, hesitantly.

"Great!"

You follow her as she leads you out of the gym and into the bright, warm afternoon sun.

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You find yourself sitting in the booth across from Bada, staring at a plate of food. 

"What's wrong?" Bada asks, noticing your apprehension.

"Nothing," you reply, forcing a smile.

"Okay," she says, not sounding convinced.

You pick up a piece of meat and put it on your plate. The smell is amazing, and your mouth waters.

"Are you going to eat?" Bada asks, gesturing towards your untouched food.

"Yeah," you reply, picking up a piece and bringing it to your lips.

"So, um, how have you been?" she asks, breaking the silence.

"Fine," you say, taking a bite.

"That's good."

"Yeah," you say, chewing.

"And, uh, how's your part of project going?"

"It's going," you respond, swallowing.

"Cool."

"Mhm," you hum, not bothering to elaborate.

You hear a sigh. "Do you always have to be like this?" she asks, exasperated.

You huff. "Like what?"

"Cold. Distant," she says. 

"Excuse me?" you snap.

"You're always so closed off. It's frustrating."

You drop your chopsticks. "Are you messing with me right now? You're the one that's been standoffish since I've met you. And what was with that whole moving out situation that you still haven't given me an explanation for, by the way?"

Her face softens. "Look, I'm sorry about all that. I was just...going through something."

"What were you going through?"

She averts her gaze, and fidgets with her chopsticks.

"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to tell me," you say, feeling bad for pushing her.

She bites her lip, and your eyes are drawn to the movement.

"I don't mind telling you, but can it wait until later? I don't know if it's the right time."

You nod, and return to eating, a little more at ease than before.

"So, you and Aiki?" she says, after a beat.

You freeze. You were hoping that she had forgotten about that.

"Yep," you say, your voice tight.

"How did it happen?"

You shrug. "It was just a short high school fling. But, you know, first lesbian heartbreak and all."

She snorts. "I get that."

"Really?" you respond, leaning forward. You're too nosy to pass up on this.

"Yeah," she says, a little sheepish.

"Who was it? Do I know them?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Is it Doyeon?" you guess, grinning.

Bada nearly chokes on her food. "What?! No. She's just...no," she sputters.

"Tatter?"

Bada squeals, shoving her head in her hands. "Ew, no! She's like a sister to me."

"Hm," you say, tapping your chin.

She glares at you. "It's none of your business."

You shrug. "I'm just surprised, that's all," you say, nonchalant.

"Why?"

"Well," you begin, resting your elbows on the table. "You're like, a total heartthrob. Everyone's crazy about you."

She lets out a bark of laughter. "No, I'm not," she says, dismissive.

"You are," you insist. "Do you know the vile things I've heard women say about you? I'm surprised you don't need bodyguards. You have literal fangirls."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, maybe a few girls like me. But, they're not crazy."

"I beg to differ."

"Whatever," she laughs.

"All I'm saying is that I'm surprised you've gotten your heartbroken by women before. It seems like you'd be able to get any girl you wanted, and keep them."

Her face grows solemn. "It doesn't always work like that," she says.

You're taken aback. Her eyes are a storm, dark and intense.

"I guess you're right," you agree, trying to break the tension.

She clears her throat. "Let's just eat."

You're confused, and a little worried, but you're also starving.

"Right," you say.

The rest of the meal is silent, the two of you not making eye contact.

After a few minutes, she finally speaks up.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," you reply, grateful to be leaving.

"Let's get going, then," she says, grabbing her card.

You slide your backpack across the seat, toward your body. "I'll pay," you offer, pulling your wallet out. 

"No, it's fine," she insists, reaching across the table and swatting your hand away. 

"Bada," you warn, a little annoyed.

"It's just one meal, and I asked you to come here with me. It's only fair that I pay."

You open your mouth to protest, but the look on her face stops you.

"Fine," you grumble, shoving your wallet inside your bag. 

"Thank you," she says, giving you a small smile.

She gets up, and heads for the door. You follow her lead, getting up from the table, uneasiness settling in your stomach. 

The two of you make your way to the cash register, where the hostess greets her enthusiastically. She hands her the bill, and Bada hands her the credit card, and the hostess takes it, grazing Bada's hand with a coy smile. You glance at one of the tables nearby, contemplating how much of a hassle it'd be to gouge your eyes out with chopsticks. You decide against it, knowing that you'd probably be banned from this delicious restaurant and would never be able to return. You sigh, depressed, and when you focus on Bada again, you're caught off guard by what you witness. Bada thanks the hostess and turns to leave, not bothering to wait for the receipt. The hostess frowns and calls out a goodbye, which is met with Bada's disinterested wave. You trail behind her, raising an eyebrow at her, and she ignores your questioning look. 

Rather, Bada grabs your wrist and guides you outside. You try not to notice the way her palm feels against yours. Yet, you are unable to suppress the smirk that emerges on your face. 

Once you're outside, she drops her hand, and you're reminded of the discomfort that occurred in the restaurant.

You squint. The sun has started to set, casting a glow over the city. The streets are crowded, the hustle and bustle of people passing by.

"Give me your bag," Bada demands, holding out her hand. 

You gape at her, then clutch your backpack, surveying your surroundings for any law enforcement. "Sorry, what?" 

"Your bag. Give it to me." she repeats, her hand still extended.

"Are you trying to rob me?" you ask, baffled. 

"What? No. Why would I do that?" she clarifies, incredulous. "I'm walking you home, and we have a long way to go. Your bag is gonna get heavy. So, give it to me." she explains, wiggling her fingers.

"Oh," you say, feeling foolish. You loosen your grip on your bag. "No need for that! I can take care of myself."

She gives you an impatient look. "Do you have to argue with me about everything? Just let me walk with you, please."

"Fine," you relent, sliding the backpack off your shoulder and handing it to her.

"Thank you," she sighs. 

She takes a step closer to you, and to your surprise, laces her free arm through yours.

"Lead the way," she instructs, motioning ahead.

You stare at the place where your arms are interlocked. "What are you doing?" you question, alarmed.

"What does it look like? I'm walking with you."

"Uh, I guess," you say, your heart racing.

"Ready?"

"Sure" you mutter, defeated. 

"Let's go."

You begin walking, your arms intertwined. Your pulse is erratic, and the closeness of her is sending heat waves throughout your body. You're sure she can feel the beating of your heart.

You walk in silence, the sounds of the city filling the air.

"I'm sorry if I got a little weird back there," Bada says, breaking the silence.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I didn't mean to make things awkward. I just...get a little sensitive when it comes to talking about my love life."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she admits, sighing.

"Well, that's understandable. It's hard talking about failed relationships."

"Exactly," she says, turning to look at you. "But, thank you for understanding."

You feel the weight of her stare, and a blush rises to your cheeks. What was going on with you right now?

"Don't mention it."

"Y/n," she says, her voice low.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for going to dinner with me."

"Of course," you say, your words caught in your throat.

"I had a really good time."

You can't think of a response, her brown eyes drawing you in.

"Me too," you manage.

Her mouth curves into a grin.

"Can I do something?" she whispers.

"Um, yeah, sure."

She leans in, and adjusts a strand of hair that's fallen onto your face. Your breathing quickens. You didn't even realize that a strand was in front of your face. Her eyes are locked onto yours, and her hand lingers on the side of your face. 

"Better," she says, her face centimeters away from yours.

You swallow. "I- uh- thank you."

She pulls away, and a sense of disappointment settles within you.

"It was nothing," she says, her eyes twinkling.

"Okay," you reply, unable to form a coherent sentence.

You're both silent again, and the rest of the walk passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're at your doorstep.

"This is it," you say, turning to her.

"This is your apartment?" 

"Yep," you confirm, reaching into your pocket for your keys.

"Alright, cool," she says, tossing you your backpack.

You catch it, the straps hitting you in the face. Please stop this madness, you think. At least you caught it. Maybe there's still hope for you. 

"Thank you," you say, slinging it onto your back. 

"Of course," she flashes you a bright smile, and your heart skips a beat. “I had a great time.”

“Me too,” you confess, your palms sweaty. "I'll see you tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow," she echoes, her voice soft.

You're not sure what else to say, so you give her a small wave and head for the door.

"Goodnight, y/n," she calls gently, as you reach for the handle. You turn to look at her, and her eyes are shining, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Goodnight, Bada," you respond, giving her a smile.

She nods, and with one final glance, she turns and walks away. You watch her retreating figure, and let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"What the hell was that?" you whisper, your head spinning.

You enter your apartment. It's dark. Lusher must not be home, which makes you want to cry. You wanted to talk to her about today.  You throw yourself onto the couch. You replay the evening's events in your head, and as you do, you feel an incoming headache.

You sigh, and close your eyes. Tonight was weird. Really, really weird.

Your phone buzzes, and you grab it from the coffee table. You have one new message.

You unlock your phone, and check the message. It's from Bada.

Bada: hey, did you get inside your apartment alright?

Y/N: yes

Bada: good. i was just making sure. 

Y/N: thanks.

Bada: no problem. :)

You stare at the screen, and quickly type out a response.

Y/N: thanks for tonight. i had a really great time.

Bada: me too. 

Bada: we should do it again sometime!

Bada: I mean, other than our meet-ups for the project. 

This is when you remember for the first time since the end of dinner that the two of you are doing a project together. That was the original reason for meeting. 

You: yeah, definitely.

Bada: awesome!

Bada: sweet dreams <3

Y/N: night.

You throw your phone down. Your head is reeling. As you lay there, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, the memory of her fingers brushing your cheek plays in your mind. The warmth of her touch. The softness. And her eyes. Her eyes.

You let out a sigh, and rub your temples.

"Get a hold of yourself," you mumble.

But, no matter how much you try, you can't stop the butterflies in your stomach, or the warmth in your chest. Something shifted today. Maybe it shifted from the moment you began working on this project together. With every meeting, Bada proved to you that she's not the stuck-up, self-centered person you thought she was. No. She's smart. And she's kind. So, so kind. Gentle. Talented. Nothing aligned with the image of her that you created in your head.

As much as you've tried to push these feelings away, deny them, repress them, they keep coming back. And with the way she's acting, the way she's been treating you, it feels like she may feel the same. But, what if you're wrong?

The thought scares you. If she didn't reciprocate, the embarrassment would be insurmountable. It would ruin everything. Your seemingly newfound friendship. The project. Regardless of how great tonight was, you cannot help but think back to that day in the locker rooms, and how dismayed she sounded at the thought of asking you out. Even if her feelings have shifted and she finds you attractive now, what if that's all that it is? Attraction. Lust. The thought of it makes you nauseous. You're not sure you could survive her using you and then discarding you, like some kind of toy, like the other ones. 

No, it's better to remain friends. Just friends. Besides, you're sure that these feelings will dissipate soon. They have to. Right? Maybe you'd just steer clear of her for a little while to be safe. It'll give her the space she needs to forget about this, and give you the time to bury these stupid feelings.

You decide to text her.

Y/N: hey, i'm really tired. can we reschedule tomorrow's study session for next week?

She replies almost immediately.

Bada: yeah, no problem. are you okay?

Y/N: yes

Y/N: just had a long day.

Bada: alright, take care.

Y/N: will do.

Bada: oh, and one more thing.

Y/N: ?

Bada: thank you again.

Bada: i mean it.

Bada: and i'm glad that we're friends.

Your stomach flutters. Friends. Yes. This is exactly what you need.

Bada: goodnight.

Y/N: sweet dreams.

You toss your phone onto the couch, and get up. You're exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. You need to get to bed. You trudge to the bathroom, and wash up. Then, you change, and climb into bed. As you drift off to sleep, a million thoughts are swirling through your mind. But, the one that lingers is the image of her eyes, warm and bright, staring at you.

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You're lying in bed, your laptop open, the blue light washing over you. The room is silent, save for the sounds of your keyboard, the tapping of keys. It's late. Really late. But, you can't sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you see her. Those brown, inviting eyes.

You groan and sit up. You need a distraction. You can't use your phone, because you'd have to face the dozens of unread texts from Bada that have been collecting dust for the past couple weeks. You haven't talked to her at all since that night, even going as far as to skip the class that you have with her. It seems like she's given up trying to reach you, as today is the first day you've gone without a message from her. Thank God. 

You pull your laptop onto your lap, and open a random YouTube video.

It's a funny skit. A couple. They're arguing. About something mundane, trivial. You find yourself laughing. For a moment, you forget about her. But, the feeling doesn't last. Because, after the skit is over, the next video starts.

It's a music video. Two women. They're singing. It's a love song. You can't focus on the lyrics, the images, the sound. All you can see is her. Those eyes.

You slam the laptop shut and throw it onto the bed.

"Dammit," you mutter.

You can't think straight. Everything is clouded by her. By Bada. You're losing your mind. You need air.

You stand and walk to the window. You look outside. It's quiet. There are few cars, no people. Just the lights, casting their glow upon the buildings.

You rest your head against the window, and sigh. You've never felt this way before. It's maddening. Infuriating. But, you can't help it.

You hear your door open, and Lusher steps into the room.

"Hey," she greets.

"Hi."

"What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," you reply, not turning around.

Lusher leans against the wall, studying you. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Y/n," she sighs, "You know that you can tell me anything."

"I know."

"So, what's going on?"

"I don't know," you shrug.

She walks towards you and stands beside you.

"Come on," she insists, "Tell me."

"It's stupid," you grumble, shaking your head.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Fine," you relent.

"Let's hear it," she presses.

"Well," you start, "It's about Bada."

Lusher smirks. "I knew it."

"You knew what?"

"That you had a crush on her."

"Wait, what?" you splutter, turning to face her.

"You're so obvious," she accuses, crossing her arms.

"No, I'm not!"

"Oh, please," she laughs, "Even when you claimed to hate her it was written all over your face. I mean, why else would you be so upset over your roommate of one day leaving you? Because you had a humongous crush on her and got embarrassed when she seemingly rejected you!"

"That's not it at all," you retort. "It was the principle! I mean, filing a complaint against me is crazy."

"Y/n," she says, gently. "You have a crush. It's normal."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure if the feelings are reciprocated."

"You know, the day that you guys got paired up for that project, she sent me a text asking me what kind of coffee you liked. We'd never even texted before that," she reveals. 

You blink in disbelief. "What?"

"Yeah," she chuckles. "Apparently, she was trying to get on your good side and impress you."

"Wow," you mumble.

"But, I guess I ruined it for her," she jokes.

"Why'd you tell her about the coffee?"

"Because, I'm your friend. And I could tell that you liked her. A lot."

"I don't know," you say, shaking your head. "Maybe it doesn't mean anything. She's a flirt, and she's nice to everyone."

"You're not wrong. But, y/n, you gotta trust your instincts. If you feel something, go for it."

"Maybe," you respond, not sure if you're convinced.

"Just don't sit here and dwell on it," she says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Can we get out of here?" you ask, still wanting a distraction.

"Sure. Where to?"

"Anywhere. The library. A bar. A club. Just, not here."

"Alright," she says, grinning. "Let's go."

–

Lusher brings you to a house party. You're not in the mood, but she manages to convince you to come. After a couple of drinks, you're feeling a bit more relaxed. The music is loud, and the crowd is rowdy, but you don't mind. It's a welcome distraction from your thoughts.

"There she is," Lusher shouts, pointing to a familiar figure.

It's Bada. Her hair is tied into a ponytail, and she’s wearing a short-sleeved patterned button-down shirt, black baggy pants. She looks good, as always. She's dancing with a group of friends. There are a couple women standing suspiciously close to her, giving her heart eyes. 

"Do you want to say hi?" Lusher asks, nudging you.

"No," you yell over the noise, "She looks like she's having fun. We should leave her alone."

She gives you a pitiful look and sighs. "If you say so."

You take another sip of your drink. You watch her as she dances, her hips swaying, her arms above her head. She looks happy. Carefree. You can't help but admire her, even now, in this house full of people. She's beautiful. Ethereal. The way the light catches her hair, her skin. She's captivating.

"Excuse me," a voice interrupts your train of thought.

You turn around. It's Aiki. 

It's settled. Someone has invoked a curse on you, and you're doomed to suffer incessant encounters with unattainable women who have broken your heart until the end of time.

"Hey, Aiki," you greet, attempting to hide your discomfort.

"Hey," she responds, her gaze flickering to Lusher. "And who's this?"

"I'm Lusher, y/n's best friend. We went to school together. I'm also on the dance team."

"Oh, right! The famous Lusher," she exclaims, offering her hand. "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Same," she nods, taking her hand.

Aiki's attention returns to you. "Y/n, I didn't expect to see you here," she notes, sipping her beer.

"Yeah, well, here I am," you laugh awkwardly.

"You should come dance with us," she invites, motioning towards the crowd.

"No, thanks. I'm not much of a dancer."

"Really? You looked pretty good when we danced together," she comments, smiling.

You laugh. "Trust me, that was a one-time thing."

"Aw, come on. I'd love to see you dance again," she insists.

"No, really. It's not happening," you say, holding up your hands.

"Oh, c'mon. Just one dance," she begs, taking a step closer.

You mull this over, tapping your fingers against your cup. "Well, maybe just one."

"Yes!" she cheers, grabbing your hand.

You glance at Lusher, who offers an encouraging thumbs-up.

Aiki leads you to the dance floor, and the two of you join the throng of sweaty bodies. She begins to dance, her hips gyrating, her arms raised above her head.

"C'mon," she urges, "Join me."

You hesitate, not wanting to embarrass yourself, but her enthusiasm is infectious.

You begin to move, swaying your hips to the beat.

She steps closer, her hand finding its way to your waist. "That's it," she praises, her voice low and seductive.

Your pulse quickens. You can't help but be reminded of the last time the two of you were this close, the night when she asked you out.

Her grip on your waist tightens, pulling you closer. Your breath hitches, and your eyes lock.

"Y/n," she whispers, her lips inches from yours.

Your heart hammers in your chest. You feel her fingers trailing along your side, her body pressed against yours. The music drowns out all rational thought. All that matters is her, the heat of her touch, the sound of her voice. Her breath is warm against your cheek. Her hand caresses your neck, drawing you closer. Your eyes flutter closed, and—

A heavy weight comes crashing into the two of you, sending the both of you stumbling backward.

"Watch it," you snap, looking over to see the culprit.

And it's Bada, of course.

She's holding a red cup, staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression. 

"Sorry," she mutters, taking a step back.

 You glance at Aiki, who looks like she's bordering on being concussed, and then settle your gaze back on Bada. 

"Bada? Where the hell did you come from?" you question, rubbing your forehead.

Her jaw clenches. "Nowhere."

You let out a short, dry, disbelieving snort. “That explains a bunch.”

"Sorry," she repeats. "I tripped."

"Right," you say, not believing her.

"Where have you been?" she asks, taking a small sip of her drink. You study her face, noticing the pink flush on her cheeks. You'd assume it was the alcohol, but she doesn't seem drunk. 

"Around," you answer, crossing your arms.

"Well, I didn't see you at class," she points out, taking another sip.

"I was busy," you lie, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

"So busy you couldn't even give me a heads up?"

"Yup," you reply, popping the p.

"What about our project?"

"Is that all you care about?" you retaliate.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, sucking in a breath. "No, but-"

"Um," Aiki pipes up, lifting herself off of the floor. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" you say. 

 "Yes," Bada responds at the same time, venom laced through her voice.

"Bada," you growl, glaring at her. "Stop."

"Well, are you not done?"

"Done with what?"

 "Her," she spits. 

 "Alright, well," Aiki interjects, holding up her hands. "I'm done! I'm gonna head out, Y/N. I'll catch you later...or not." Aiki says, fast-walking away with a limp.

"Bada," you whisper, anger bubbling up in your throat.

"What?" she says, her gaze piercing.

"Are you kidding me?"

"What, did I ruin your date?"

"Date?" you scoff, shaking your head. "That wasn't a date."

"Uh-huh, right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Me?" she scoffs, stepping forward.

"Yes, you!"

"You're the one who's being difficult here, y/n. Not me." she retorts, setting her drink down on a nearby table.

"How am I being difficult? All I've done is try and do the project. I've put up with all your shit."

"Forget about the stupid project! This is about us."

"There is no us," you shout, jabbing your finger into her chest.

"I know you don't mean that."

"You're unbelievable," you grumble, pushing past her, up the stairs.

"Don't walk away from me," she demands, chasing after you.

"Leave me alone, Bada."

"No," she protests, reaching for your wrist.

You stop, turning around. "I told you to stop," you yell, shoving her away.

"I'm not going anywhere," she warns, her eyes narrowed.

"God," you groan, massaging your temples. "You're impossible."

"And you're being a coward," she snaps.

"Coward?"

"You're avoiding me," she states, her voice steady and calm.

"Maybe I am," you fire back.

"Why?"

"Because, you're exhausting," you explain, throwing your hands up.

"Exhausting," she echoes.

"Yes, exhausting," you affirm. "I can't stand you, Bada. You're arrogant and conceited and-"

"You want me," she interjects, her voice barely above a whisper.

"W-what?"

"You. Want. Me," she repeats, each word slow and deliberate.

"I-I..." you stammer, rendered mute. You were not prepared for this level of confrontation. This is not how you expected tonight to go in the slightest. You couldn't tell Bada  you wanted her, even if you did. And, now, you know you do. More than anything. You've been wanting her for so long. But it's not like she wants you back in the same way.

"Tell me that I'm wrong."

"Bada, I—"

"Tell me that I'm wrong, and I'll never bring it up again."

You open your mouth to speak, but the words die on your tongue.

"See," she laughs, though there's no humor behind it.

"Shut up," you murmur, massaging your forehead. 

"No," she defies, stepping closer.

"You're so annoying," you complain, turning around.

She follows you. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know," you answer truthfully, stomping further up the staircase.

"Y/n," she pleads, grabbing your arm. "Just tell me that I'm wrong."

"Bada, let it go."

"Tell me," she begs. 

You turn around, infuriated, your veins pulsating. "What is the point of this? Do you just want me to tell you that I want you so that you can feel good about yourself?"

"The point of it is that I like you, y/n! I really, really, like you. And you keep pushing me away! Why?" She exclaims, throwing her hands up. 

You can feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you're too angry to care. Bada's confession should give you some solace, but it only makes the ache in your chest stronger. You need to get out of here. Get away from her. You can't deal with this anymore. You can't take it. She's too much. She doesn't understand. She doesn't know how badly it'd wound you if things didn't work out. If she ended up hurting you. Or worse, forgetting about you. 

"Because," you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling, attempting to calm yourself down. “I don't want to get hurt."

“Y/n," she says gently, stepping forward.

"Don't," you warn.

"I would never hurt you," she reassures, her hand cupping your cheek.

You stare into her eyes, searching for any trace of dishonesty, but find none.

"I would never intentionally hurt you," she corrects, a sad smile on her face.

"Bada," you mumble, her hand warm on your skin.

"I know you're scared," she continues, her voice soft and soothing. "But I promise, I'll take care of you."

"Bada, you don't understand," you argue, stepping back.

"Then help me understand."

"I..." you trail off, unsure of how to continue. "I like you. I like you a lot. But I just cant stop thinking about that whole roommate situation. And...I heard you say something in the locker rooms one day when I was visiting Lusher."

Her eyebrows furrow. "What'd you hear?"

"You said that you didn't want to me. At all," you explain, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Oh, y/n," she sighs. "That's not true."

"What?"

"I've liked you for a long time. Probably since I first saw you. That's actually why I switched rooms. I didn't think you'd be into me, and I was afraid of rejection, so I ran away," she confesses, her gaze cast downward.

"Bada," you breathe, shocked.

"But I'm done being scared. And I'm tired of running," she declares, looking back up.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm not going anywhere," she promises, taking your hands.

"Bada, are you sure? This is a lot."

"I've never been more sure about anything," she states, her tone firm. "But are you going to stop running too?"

"Bada, I—"

"Please, y/n. Take a chance on me." she requests, squeezing your hands.

 Was the risk worth it? Were you willing to put your heart on the line? Would she keep her promise and not break your heart? The questions flood your mind, threatening to overwhelm you. But, when you look into her eyes, the answer is a clear yes. Because, really, now that everything was on the table, when did she ever give you reason to doubt her? When did she not deliver? Maybe it was time for you to have some faith in her, just like she has faith in you, right now.

You exhale. "Okay," you relent.

"You will?"

"Yes,” you nod, vigorously. “Let’s give this a try."

"Yay!" she exclaims, pulling you into a hug. You laugh, wrapping your arms around her waist.

"I'm sorry I've been such a jerk. I felt so awkward and shy around you, I didn't know what to do" she apologizes, burying her face in the crook of your neck.

"It's okay," you say, running your hands along her back.

She removes herself from the embrace, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. She studies your face, her eyes roaming over your features.

"Can I kiss you?" she questions, her thumb caressing your cheek.

"I guess so," you shrug, feigning nonchalance with a sly smile on your face. Deep down, you've been waiting for this moment since the day the two of you met. You've dreamed about what it would feel like, how her lips would taste. You've thought about it while lying awake in bed at night, while doing homework. It's a constant, nagging thought. Her face draws closer to yours, and your eyelids flutter closed. You feel her breath fan across your lips. Your heart beats rapidly. Then, finally, her lips meet yours, and everything else fades away. It's like nothing you've ever experienced before. It's tender and passionate, sweet and perfect. You wrap your arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. As she holds you in her arms, your fears disappear, and a new feeling takes their place. A feeling of warmth, safety, happiness—more than that. When you part, the both of you are breathing heavily. Her eyes are wide, filled with wonder. You're sure your expression mirrors hers. Neither of you say a word. Instead, you just stand there, drinking in each other's presence. You're not sure how long you stay like that. 

Eventually, she lets out a soft chuckle, breaking the silence. "Was that okay?" she asks, biting her lip.

"Yes," you confirm. "More than okay."

"Good," she beams, pecking your lips. "Want to go back downstairs?" she offers.

"Actually, can we go to my place? Lusher will be gone," You suggest, hoping she catches the hint. You can't help but glance at her lips. You're eager to have her all to yourself. To be alone with her. To do whatever the two of you want. If the blush creeping up her cheeks is any indication, she knows exactly what you're insinuating. She nods, and the two of you descend the stairs, hands intertwined. She stops to grab her jacket, and once the two of you make it outside, the crisp, night air hits you. It's cool, and refreshing. As the two of you begin your walk to the apartment, she leans in, her shoulder brushing against yours. The contact sends a shiver down your spine. You can't believe how close the two of you are. How intimate it feels. It's a welcome change from the distance you've forced upon the two of you for the past few weeks. A small part of you is afraid. But a larger, stronger part of you is excited. Excited to explore this newfound intimacy, and whatever may lie ahead. And for the first time in a while, you feel genuine hope.

"Here," she offers, draping her jacket over your shoulders.

"Thank you," you murmur, wrapping it around yourself.

The two of you hop in Bada's car, the engine purring to life. 

"You cold?" she asks, turning the heater on.

"Yeah, a little," you admit, rubbing your hands together.

"Here," she offers, taking your hands in hers. You look down, watching as she runs her thumbs over your knuckles. "Better?"

"You're cheesy," you tease, rolling your eyes. Though secretly, her touch does make you feel warmer. Better. It makes your heart swell with affection, and the corners of your mouth turn up. It's like her presence is melting the ice surrounding your heart.

"I like cheesy," she counters, grinning.

"I'm lactose intolerant," you retort.

"Oh, no," she pouts, feigning concern. "Guess I'll have to come up with some other way to make you happy."

"I can think of a few things," you flirt, giving her a coy smile.

She just smiles, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. After what feels like an eternity, the two of you pull up, and Bada turns the car off. She hops out, making her way to the passenger side door, opens it, and extends her hand. You take it, and allow her to lead the way. The two of you climb the steps to the apartment, tension growing thick. Once you reach the front door, she lets go of your hand. You immediately miss the contact, and your heart rate picks up. You unlock the door, and step inside. She follows behind you, closing the door and locking it for you.

"It's freezing," Bada says.

"Yeah, sorry," you say, closing the door. "The heating's broken. It should be fixed by tomorrow, though."

"It's fine," she assures, wrapping her arms around you from behind. 

You lean back, savoring her warmth. You've fantasized about this more than you'd like to admit.

"Bedroom?" she whispers, kissing your temple.

You nod, tugging her through the apartment and into your bedroom. Bada shuts the door, and you turn to her, staring into her eyes.

"Hi," you whisper, placing a hand on her chest.

"Hi," she whispers back, placing her hand over yours.

You lean in, brushing your lips against hers. She reciprocates, capturing your lips with hers. Her hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss. Your hands move to her hair, tugging lightly.

She moans into your mouth, her grip tightening on your hips.

You pull back, gazing into her eyes.

"You're so pretty," she murmers, her thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

"So are you," you counter, smiling.

She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours. The two of you stay like that for a moment, drinking each other in. Finally, you pull back, grabbing her hand. You shove her onto the bed, and then fall on top of her, your legs straddling her hips.

"Hey," she giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Hey," you reply, a smile on your face.

"You're so annoying," she says, leaning in. 

"And yet, you're here," you point out. 

She ignores this, deciding to press a kiss to your lips, her fingers moving up your back. You sigh into her mouth, your body relaxing against hers. She slides her tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you. Her hands move to your ass, squeezing. You roll your hips, grinding against her. She groans, her grip on your ass tightening. She sits up, her lips never leaving yours. She scoots back on the bed, her legs spread, and you sit between them, still straddling her.

"You're such a tease," she says, her voice husky.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask, smirking. "How's this for a tease?"

You slip your hand under her shirt, tracing circles on her stomach, her abs. You can tell she's not wearing a bra. 

"I don't know," she sighs, her head falling back. "Keep going, and we'll see."

You lean down, peppering kisses along her jawline. She tilts her head, giving you better access. You suck on her pulse point, her breath hitching.

You move lower, kissing and sucking her neck.

She groans, her hand tangling in her hair. You smirk at this, trailing kisses down her chest. You unbutton her shirt, exposing her breasts. You take a nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the stiff peak. She lets out a string of curses, her grip on your hair tightening. You give her other nipple the same attention, relishing the noises coming from her. You trail your hands down her sides, settling on her thighs.

You're about to give her a command when, suddenly, she stops you, pushing your head away. 

Before you can protest, she grips onto your waist and flips you over. You let out a squeak of surprise. 

She stares down at you, a smug grin on her face.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice breathy.

"What am I doing?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I'm getting revenge."

"Revenge?"

"Yeah," she replies, her hand snaking its way up your shirt. "For teasing me."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

She pauses, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "I think I'm going to start with..."

She trails off, her gaze focused on your pants.

"What are you—" you're cut off by her hand moving to the button of your pants, undoing it.

She slides the zipper down, revealing the lace of your underwear.

"Nice," she murmurs, a grin on her face.

You're about to reply, when she moves her hand beneath the fabric, cupping you.

"Oh," you breathe, your hips bucking into her touch.

She begins rubbing slow circles on your clit, causing you to writhe underneath her.

"You're so wet," she states, her fingers picking up speed.

"All for you," you manage to get out, your breath ragged.

"That's what I like to hear," she says, slipping a finger inside you.

"Oh, fuck," you moan, your back arching.

She adds another, long, finger, stretching you.

"You're so tight," she marvels, pumping her fingers in and out.

You moan, grinding against her hand. She curls her fingers, hitting that sweet spot inside you.

"F-fuck," you curse, your walls clenching around her digits.

"Such a dirty mouth," she scolds, adding a third finger. She moves her mouth to your neck, her teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.

You pant, your toes curling as her pace increases. She hums in response, her fingers curling inside you, her thumb pressing against your clit.

"Fuck, Bada," you moan, gripping onto her wrist.

"You close, baby?" she asks, her breath hot against your neck.

"Y-yeah," you stammer, your hips meeting the movements of her fingers.

"Gonna cum," you mumble, your vision blurry.

"Mm-hmm," she nods, her gaze intense.

"Fuck," you cry out, and as your climax approaches, she removes her hand, leaving you frustrated and empty.

"Bada," you gasp, panting. "What the fuck?"

"I'm not finished with you," she states, a mischievous grin on her face.

"I wasn't either," you pout.

"We'll see about that," she teases, her hands moving to the hem of your shirt. She pulls it over your head, tossing it to the floor.

She gazes down at you, a hungry look in her eyes.

"Take those off," she orders, gesturing to your pants.

You oblige, sliding the rest of garment off and kicking it to the side.

"Good," she praises, a smirk on her face.

She stands, removing her shirt, pants, and boxers, her toned body exposed. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of her. She crawls on top of you, her body hovering over yours. She kneels in front of you, her fingers ghosting over your skin.

"So, you gonna finish what you started?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know," she says, a glint in her eye. "I might."

She kisses you, her lips soft and pliant. You part your lips, allowing her tongue to slip into your mouth.

"Bada," you groan, tangling a hand in her hair.

"What is it, baby?" she murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip.

"Need you," you whisper, your hips bucking into hers.

"What do you need?" she breathes, her hand ghosting down your torso.

"Your fingers, your mouth, everything," you reply, a whimper escaping your throat.

"Everything, huh?" she teases, her fingers dipping beneath the hem of your underwear.

"Fuck, please," you beg, arching your back.

"Since you asked so nicely," she replies, her voice dripping with desire.

She ducks her head, her lips trailing kisses down your chest, her hands pushing your underwear down. You kick the last bit of fabric off, leaving you bare before her.

"Beautiful," she murmurs, her fingers circling your clit.

"Ah, fuck," you moan, your hands gripping the sheets.

She sucks on your inner thigh, her tongue tracing patterns on your skin, her fingers never stopping their ministrations. She spreads your legs, her hands pushing your knees up, exposing your wet, aching center. She exhales, her gaze hungry. She places an open-mouthed kiss to your slit, her tongue lapping up your juices. You keen, your hands finding her hair.

"More," you plead, your hips canting.

"Whatever you want," she promises, her fingers digging into your flesh.

She dives in, her tongue flicking across your clit, her nose brushing against the sensitive nub. You cry out, your body writhing beneath her. She wraps her lips around your clit, sucking hard. Your toes curl, and a low, guttural moan escapes your throat. She hums in response, her eyes boring into yours. She presses a finger to your entrance, her tongue continuing its assault on your clit.

"Please," you rasp, your breathing ragged.

She enters you, her digit pumping in and out.

"F-fuck," you swear, your head rolling back.

She adds a second finger, her tongue swirling around your clit.

"Bada, I'm close," you warn, your walls tightening.

She hums, her fingers curling inside you, her mouth closing over your clit, sucking hard, and you chant, your hands tangled in her hair.

Your climax crashes into you, and you cry out, stars exploding behind your eyelids. She works you through it, her fingers coaxing every last drop of pleasure from you.

You pant, your body trembling. She smirks, pulling her fingers out of you.

"Tired already?" she teases, wrapping her arms around you.

She grins, capturing your lips with hers, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. You melt into the kiss, your arms encircling her. 

"Get some rest," she suggests, pulling away. 

You pout. "But what about you," your gaze trailing down her naked form.

"I'm fine, we'll continue this another time," she reasons, kissing your temple.

"Fine," you relent, cuddling up to her and nuzzling her neck.

She rests her chin on top of your head, her hand gently rubbing your back.

"I'm really glad we met," you murmur, the exhaustion finally catching up with you.

"Me too," she replies, kissing the top of your head.

"You're gonna stay the night, right?"

"Of course," she affirms, giving you a squeeze.

"Good," you mumble, drifting off.

You smile, listening to the sound of her heartbeat, your eyelids growing heavy.

She whispers something that you can't quite hear, but before you can ask her what it is, sleep overtakes you.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You wake up the next morning to find Bada fast asleep beside you. You roll over, facing her. She's on her back, one arm draped over her stomach, the other above her head. She's snoring lightly, her features relaxed. You try not to coo at how adorable she looks, and instead, get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom.

You take a quick shower, and then put on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. When you walk back into the bedroom, Bada's sitting up, her phone in her hand.

"Morning," you greet, crawling onto the bed and sitting next to her.

"Morning," she replies, her gaze focused on her phone.

"What are you looking at?"

"The news. Look,' she answers, handing her phone to you.

You read the headline.

'Improved conditions for the girls' basketball team after protests'.

"Oh, wow," you say, surprised.

"Yeah," she smiles, taking her phone back.

"Our project is kind of fucked now," you realize.

"Nah, it'll probably be fine. We'll just talk to the professor about it,"  she assures, putting her phone on the nightstand.

"What time is it, anyway?"

"12:30."

"Really? I thought it was earlier," you state.

"Well, we didn't get much sleep," she teases, a grin on her face.

"I wonder why," you reply, rolling your eyes.

She smiles wider and gives you a peck on the cheek. You laugh, her lips tickling you, your heart overflowing with joy. You felt like you were dreaming. Speaking of which, you suddenly remembered what she had whispered to you last night.

"Hey," you say, gently pushing her off of you.

"What's up?"

"Last night, right before I fell asleep, you said something," you start, trying to remember exactly what it was.

"Oh," she laughs, a blush forming on her cheeks.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, just... nothing," she says, shaking her head.

"Bada," you urge, poking her side.

"Ugh, fine," she sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I, uh, I said I love you."

Your eyes widen in disbelief. "What?!" you gasp, 

Her face flushes with embarrassment. "I know, it's stupid, and you don't have to say it back or anything, but I-,"

"Bada, shut up," you interrupt, pressing a finger to her lips.

"Huh?"

"I love you, too," you reveal, smiling.

"R-really?" she splutters, gazing at you in astonishment. 

"Yes," you chuckle, kissing her forehead. 

"Wow," she whispers, staring into the distance.

You laugh. "What, did you think I wouldn't say it back?"

"Well, I didn't really know," she admits, scratching her head.

"Of course I do," you insist, cupping her face.

She stares at you, her eyes wide. You stare back, your thumbs caressing her cheeks. Your heart swells as you smile at her, and her lips tug up into a smile. There's something so endearing about the way her eyes sparkle, her skin glows.

Then, she pounces on you, showering you in kisses.

"Hey, stop!"

"No," she giggles, her lips trailing down your jawline.

"Bada, seriously," you laugh, trying to push her off.

"Nope," she declares, her hands roaming under your shirt.

"Oh, my God," you sigh, giving in to her affection.

You hold her close, your arms wrapped around her. As she's getting increasingly handsy, you hear the door slam open.

"Okay y/n, TIME TO WAKE UP! I cannot believe you left the party without-" Lusher stops in the doorway, gasping as she lays her eyes on the scene before her. 

"Fuck," you curse, scrambling out from under Bada and falling onto the floor.

"Oh god," Bada mutters, standing up.

"Lusher, please-"

"Bada?!" Lusher screams, her eyes wide. "Oh! My! God! How did this happen? Wait."

You groan. Here we go. "Lusher, please let us enjoy our-"

"God I'm glad you two finally got together. I was sooo tired of hearing you two mope about how into each other you were. It's about time, seriously."

"Lusher."

"Sorry, you know, I had weird premonition when I fell asleep that you guys hooked up, but I wasn't sure. Guess I'm a psychic," Lusher exclaims, giddily.

"Lusher."

"Okay, well, I'm glad it's true. And also, I'm very happy for you. Anyway, I'm going to go now," she announces, backing out of the room.

"Thanks, Lusher," Bada laughs.

"No problem. Also, by the way, I'm going to be a bridesmaid at the wedding."

"LUSHER."

"What? Okay, I'm going, I'm going. Bye!" she shouts, shutting the door.

"Oh, my God," Bada mutters, sitting back on the bed.

"Yeah," you agree, crawling back onto the bed and plopping next to her.

"She's a character."

"That's an understatement," you laugh.

"Anyway," Bada continues, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Wait, what are you-,"

She pins you down, a smirk on her face. "Back to what we were doing!"

To Lusher's dismay, you and Bada spend the rest of the day locked away in your room, the two of you only coming out to grab snacks. And you couldn't be happier with how everything turned out. You almost laugh, remembering how hard you tried to convince yourself that you didn't have feelings for her, how you didn't want to date her, how she was out to get you.

But now, here you are, your head resting on her chest, her arms wrapped around you, her body pressed against yours. It's a dream come true.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[archivistofnerddom]

The Batch + Life In Retirement On Pabu

Slightly AU: Tech lives, though he’s got a prosthetic leg as a result of his fall.

Hunter’s fashion sense swiftly nose-dives into that of every dad at an amusement park. Don’t ask why that happened so quickly. It just did. He’s rocking cargo shorts, corny shirts, and comfy shoes like they’re going out of style. (Crosshair gave him a tactical fanny pack as a joke. Hunter wears it all the time with all due seriousness.) It takes years for the rest of the Batch to get him to branch out from that.

Tech alternates between his space jeans and sweatpants, depending on his mood. The sweatpants were necessary when he first got his prosthetic leg during his post-Eriadu recovery process. He too starts wearing ironic shirts, but somehow makes them more fashionable than Hunter.

Crosshair has the widest selection of island-appropriate hats and sunglasses anyone has ever seen. No one knows how he gets so many, and he’s certainly not going to tell on himself. Omega is the reason why he has so many floral-print shirts though.

Wrecker discovers overalls and pretty much lives in them. No less than half of his overalls have the legs cut off at the knees. This is more practical than fashionable though. He’s just so big that he has a hard time finding pants that fit him at the waist and have a long enough pant leg.

Omega finally gets to decide on her preferred style now that they’re permanently in one place. She still wears a lot of hand-me-downs from her brothers though. Omega spends a lot of time helping out around the island, so she needs clothes that no one minds her getting dirty or ruined when she’s working on a project.

Echo has an extensive collection of sarongs he stores on Pabu that he only busts out when he’s visiting. Rex knows not to ask Echo to do anything if he sees him wearing one. (Visiting the family on Pabu is the only time Echo gets a break or a chance to relax and destress.)

Batcher gets a pretty collar and a massively cushy bed. Someone starts bringing her sweaters to wear when she gets cold. (Crosshair is the leading suspect. Hunter won’t confess to anything.)

Wrecker has an extremely extensive cookbook and recipe collection. He picks up cooking as a hobby post-retirement, and he is really good at it. Given the diversity of people and species on Pabu, Wrecker spends a lot of time learning different recipes from across the galaxy.

Crosshair and Wrecker go fishing together pretty regularly. They don’t say a lot during those times, but that’s okay. Crosshair enjoys spotting where the best fishing areas are. Wrecker just sits back and lets his baby brother take the lead on this. (He brings snacks and a cooler of drinks to keep them fed and hydrated when they decide to make a day of it.)

Tech upgrades the Archeum to improve how things are stored and protected. Omega helps out. They spend a lot of time adding details about the specific items housed therein, including any historical details, cultural relevance, and any notes about how best to handle the items. They’re working with Phee on an oral history component to the Archeum as well, so that the stories about the items in the Archeum and the residents of Pabu are preserved.

Crosshair makes hammocks and strings them up around the island in random places. He says it’s so that he can take a nap wherever and whenever. Really, it’s just his contribution to life on Pabu. (Plus, making hammocks were good physical therapy when he got his new prosthetic hand.)

Omega instituted regular family game night. (Echo is expected to be there as his work with Rex allows.) Depending on their moods, Batch family game night is either extremely chill or extremely cutthroat. There is no in-between.

Wrecker is the first one to “move out” of the shared family house. It’s only because he built an upgraded kitchen with a huge family room attached. The shared family home couldn’t accommodate those upgrades. His house is two houses down and is still where everyone eats dinner almost every night.

Tech moved out second. He moved in with Phee. It was a combination of their evolving romantic relationship and him wanting to be closer to the island repair shop that he runs in his spare time. (Tech became the island’s mechanic once he recovered from the injuries he sustained on Eriadu.)

Hunter develops a massive green thumb. The family shared house (which eventually is just him, Omega, and Crosshair full-time) is overflowing with plant life. He built and maintains a greenhouse for Wrecker to grow speciality plants for his cooking.

Echo usually crashes with Wrecker when he comes to visit. Wrecker renovated part of his house to be prosthetic leg friendly and got a really comfy recliner for Echo. Crosshair put in a hammock for Echo in the backyard.

Crosshair, Hunter, and Omega go on early morning runs together. It’s their bonding time.

Tech upgraded the whole family’s prosthetic limbs many times over the years. Hunter made a point of keeping the older models as a reminder of how far they’ve come since they retired.

Batcher is the most spoiled dog on the island. She adores the attention and winds up becoming the unofficial therapy dog for every new resident and refugee who finds their way to Pabu.

[percyjavksongf]

𝐈𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬.•☆

➤𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐳 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➤𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏’𝟓𝟏𝟐

➤𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐛𝐡, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐚𝐟

all you could feel was warmth, a delightfully cozy knitted blanket was tucked firmly around you and your pillow was slightly lumpy. Your eyes fluttered open and took their time adjusting to your surroundings, you peered down and noticed your pillow wasn’t a pillow at all, but Leo’s camo jacket folded up under your head, he must’ve noticed you drifting off before you had even realised.

You scanned the cabin for the man in question and quickly spotted him sitting hunched over by his work desk, the sheen layer of sweat reflecting off the dying fire that accompanied him. You watched him quietly, not wanting to break his concentration from whatever new project he had come up with while in your slumber.

Your eyes fell once again onto the glowing fireplace, this was Leo’s first winter at camp and thankfully he had been enjoying himself so far, you know from experience that some campers find the holidays to be a solemn time but you had been keen on making sure Leo enjoyed his first winter and didn’t fall into the seasonal depression that was easily obtained, you weren’t judging of course, if you didn’t have Leo by your side you’d be dealing with it.

Your gaze shifted back over to Leo, who, despite the snow that was pounding against the exterior of the cabin, was only dressed in his white tank top and cargo pants, you were always jealous of his inability to feel the cold, his body did always seem to run warmer than anyone else’s at camp.

You watched as he wrote quickly on his oil stained notepad, throwing it aside to continue at the practical work needed for his latest idea, you smiled against Leo’s jacket and continued to watch his every move, taking this opportunity to admire all the ways his personality shone through, the bouncing of his left leg when he was really concentrated, the way his dark hair curled around his ears and fell against his eyes, you always adored his curls, each strand adorned a beautiful golden hue from the dime fire in front of him, those curls of his also always seemed to have a mind of their own. His dark eyes were concentrated and sharply focused on his work, his face flushed slightly from the heat of the room and every minute or so he’d use his free, non oily hand to push his curls out of his field of view.

You didn’t know how long you’d been watching for, but Leo had you in such a dream like trance that you didn’t really mind, you had finally started to feel the chill of the room kissing intensely against your exposed skin through the holes of the knitted blanket, you shifted as quietly as you could in the blanket in an attempt to warm up but after a minute of this you gave up, deciding to sit up from your current position.

You looked over and noticed Leo had moved in his seat and was sitting with his back towards you, seemingly unaware of your movement, he always got like this when he was invested in his work, a bomb could go off outside and he wouldn’t hear a thing. You let your sock cladded feet hit the cool wooden floor and walked softly towards him, the blanket long forgotten. Once you reached his hunched frame you wrapped your arms around him and rested your chin on his exposed shoulder, you felt his jump slightly beneath you before settling, relaxing under your touch

“sorry, did I wake you?” his voice was laced with exhaustion and you shook your head no

“nah, just got cold and thought I’d come see what my human heater was up too” you felt the smile that spread against his face when his cheek pressed against your temple, Leo pushed his chair back and beckoned you to sit in his lap, which you did so without protest. Once you sat comfortably with you side pressed against his chest, he wrapped his arms around you to keep you from slipping away.

You looked outside again and noticed the snow was calming now, you were glad that they let the outside weather enter camp sometimes, you knew it would look like a dream outside tomorrow morning.

“we’re gonna build the best snowman tomorrow” you sigh happily

“obviously” Leo grins. You huff at the thought of having to make your way back to your cabin in the snow, it was pretty to look at in the warmth of Leo’s cabin but actually having to go out into it? You’re sure you’d get lost.

“cielo? Whats wrong?” you feel his hand come up to mess with your hair, running his fingers through and brushing against your now warm cheek.

“just thinking about having to track through that snow, you might have to go collect my frozen body tomorrow morning” your dramatics earn you an eye roll and a pinch to your side,

“hey!”

“you really think I’d make you walk back to your cabin in that weather? Cariño I never thought you’d think so little of me” the kiss pressed to the top of your head confirms that you’re not going anywhere tonight, you grabbed Leo’s free hand and inspect his fingers, oil covered and slightly scratched as always, you tutted and grabbed the pack of wipes you left on Leo’s worktop a couple of days ago, cleaning the oil off gently, ignoring Leo’s protests on how you didn’t need to do that for him

“i’m not sharing a bed with you if you’re all greasy” you laughed at the false offence Leo displayed at your objections

“fine, fine, I’ll get cleaned up and you make yourself comfortable”

you jump off Leo’s lap and make your way to the makeshift bed, dragging it closer to the fire and plopping yourself down on it, burrowing yourself into the soft wool blanket. You hear Leo come back into the room and peak up from under the sheets, blushing under Leo’s curiously intense gaze

“you ok in there?” he calls out as if you’re gone far away, you imagine how silly you must look to a man that’s never needed to swaddle himself for warmth and you laugh at the idea of it.

“I’m cold”

“that’s what I’m here for” he says boastfully before sliding himself beside you, if the heat is too much for him he doesn’t mention it.

Your hands find each other and you let yourself enjoy the feeling of his body next to yours, you both lay on your sides staring at each other for awhile, making each other laugh with lame jokes and recapping the best parts of the day before. The longer you laid beside Leo the more you knew he was the person you wanted to lay beside forever, it just felt so natural with him, no need to put up a front or act like everything was always ok, because being demigods meant that there were hard times, tearful goodbyes and painful memories, but its easier to deal with the hardships with someone like Leo by your side, you know from the bits he’s told you of his life before finding out he was the son of a god that he didn’t have it easy, but he made it through. Being a demigod means being a survivor, being viewed as determined, skilled and strong, but theres strength in numbers, being with Leo made you stronger, and the same can be said for him.

You didn’t notice the silence that had taken over the two of you, the feeling of Leo’s fingers brushing hair out of your eyes brings you back to the present, blinking up at him, you notice the softness in his dark eyes, his fingers dragging down your face and to resting against your cheek and neck.

“you know I’ll always look after you, right?” you furrow your brows at the confession, and Leo smiles that soft sort of smile, like when someone knows a secret that you don’t.

“I know” you whisper back, “i’ll always look after you too”.

Leo leans forward and presses his warms lips to your forehead, shuffling closer to you and bringing the blanket closer to you, not that you really needed it anymore. You let your tired eyes drift back to the window, the snow had finally stopped, leaving behind frosted windows and what you guessed was a foot of snow outside waiting for the eager campers tomorrow morning, you smile at the thought of everyone getting a snow day, no fear of monsters and prophecies, just teenagers being teenagers. You press your nose into the side of Leo’s neck and revel in the feeling of Leo’s hand drawing patterns on your back, you let your thoughts drift back to your conversation minutes prior, in this moment you knew that you were done for, not that you didn’t succumb by choice.

I’ll always look after you.

a/n: hola bitches, this ie sorter then i usually do but i wanted some sweet Leo stuff asap. Hope yous liked it!! Ik it isnt lik fanon Leo where hes super flirty and all but i lik sleepy sweet Leo. Anyways i hqve more Percy Jackson stuff coming so stay tuned ❤️🤭

[eowynstwin]

I love how you write and view COD in general, so let’s hear some Ghost hcs

Slightly NSFW.

He’s got more tattoos—his legs have a lot, and he’s got a back piece he’s working on. They’re all black and white, he doesn’t like color tattoos.

On that note though, he learned how to stick and poke as a teenager, and now as an adult he’s actually very good at it. He touches up his own tattoos, and if you’re one of his people he’ll give you any kind of ink you like, as long as you don’t ask for anything other than black ink lol

On the topic of body mods, his dick is pierced. He’s got a Jacob’s ladder. He got it a little before he was recruited into the 141—it was kind of an exercise in seeing if the pain would make him feel anything. It didn’t. (He discovered its popularity in the bedroom later.)

He owns like ten of the same black shirt and jeans. This man is NOT fashion-forward. But you will never catch him in cargo shorts. Even he isn’t that uncool. It turns out he dresses well—if always casually—just by virtue of not making his clothing choices complicated.

So, it’s almost certain he made his skull plate mask, right? Which means he’s got some familiarity with needle and thread. I think Ghost, more than once, has popped a seam in his pants or his shirt, because he’s a BIG boy. And he was raised in poverty, so no fucking way is he going to just buy new ones. So he mends his own clothes. His stitches are rarely pretty, but they’re always solid.

He’s actually a big fix-it guy overall. It’s a byproduct of growing up poor—you don’t waste money on something new if the old thing just needs a part replaced. If something stops working, he takes it apart, figures out what’s wrong, and puts it back together. He’s very efficient about it too—those projects take a day at most. He hates a mess.

As a result, if you’ve been fucking him on the regular (because remember, Ghost doesn’t date), he starts making note of little projects he could get into at your place. Cracks in the wall he could spackle. A door that scrapes at the jamb when you close it that he could rebalance. A coffee maker that takes forever to brew that he could clean out. If you let him do any of these projects, you’re never getting rid of him. (And with the Jacob’s ladder why would you honestly want to?)

I think the psychological functions of these projects are an exercise in trying to fix something to make up for what he can no longer fix. He failed a lot of people—primarily his family. Maybe if he can make your car stop making weird noises when it turns, he’s redeemed a tiny cut of the massive debt he owes to the dead. He does not think like this, I can’t stress enough. It is not a conscious process. But it doesn’t change the tiny relief he feels at making a broken thing work again.

If you ever point out that making broken things work again is kind of exactly the function of the Ghost persona, he’ll disappear for several months.

But he’ll come back. You’ll have to yank an apology out of his teeth, but you can get one out of him if you’re honest enough about how fucking horrible you felt when he left without a word. He felt horrible when he was gone, too. You just scared him, with how you cut to the very crux of who and why he is. That kind of vulnerability is a horror Ghost doesn’t know how to face.

But he stays with you for a long while, longer than he ever has, after he comes back.

[puzzledcretin]

Sunflower

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @tigerthespahget )

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: Sunflower duo (ROTTMNT Mikey & Miles Morales’ SpiderMan) Word Count: 3,360

Read On AO3

“Needless to say, I’m keeping her in check. She was a bad-bad, nevertheless. Callin’ it quits now, baby. I’m a wreck. Crash at my place, baby, you’re a wreck.”

Mikey sprinted across the rooftops of New York City. Keeping to the shadows, much like he had been taught as a child. His feet stayed light on the half walls, avoiding the patches of gravel. Originally, he had come up to the city to tag some walls downtown. Slowly, Mikey was trying to make a name for himself above ground.

Sure, his art was well known underground. However, he was starting to lose faith in his brother’s opinions. Could you blame him? He loved his brothers, more than anything in the world, but they were his brothers! They did not have to love all of his work, and he was sure there were certain pieces that they didn’t care for, but they were obligated to at least pretend. 

But on the surface? On the surface, there was opportunity! People from all walks of life and not the narrow, suffocating view of the sewers. People could see his work and he could get new, fresher opinions. 

At first, he wasn’t sure how he was going to do it. Despite everything that happened, being friendly with humans was still somewhat frowned upon by his brothers. It was.. Weird. They had plenty of human or human adjacent friends, but there was something about remaining hidden that seemed so important for their survival. He understood why, but it made making friends one of the most difficult tasks in the entire world. 

That is why Mikey got himself a fancy new phone (needed it after dropping it off the empire state building, don’t ask) and signed up for social media! Because that couldn’t go wrong, could it?

AngelofNewYork Lvl 16, Sagittarius I put the razz in razzamatazz! Posts: 140 Followers: 11 Following: 248

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly popping off the way he was hoping it would. But! That was fine! Because on occasion, he will see his graffiti popping off on other accounts. The tag #graffitiofnewyork, #graffitiphotography, and #artistsinnewyork were all some of his favorites to patrol. People didn’t know they were his but he loved seeing other people take pictures of his work.

It wasn’t like.. All good, you know? Yeah, a lot of the time he saw people praising his work. It looked cool, it meant this or that. Everyone had an opinion, but it seemed like lately he was seeing more and more criticism than he was used to. 

“Whose toddler stole the paint cans”

“Y r the shit artists anon??”

“F”

“This is fuckign vandelism! Arrest this dejenerat!”

… Yeah. And that was fine, he could get over that. Trolls were not something that typically got under his skin, not really. But what does get under his skin is seeing other artists on the scene. Ones who see his art and criticize it to hell and back.

And he gets it. He gets it! Not everyone is going to like his art. Sometimes, Mikey didn’t even like his own art. But it is a disappointment, it does cause him to drag his feet when it comes to the next project. 

Mikey grinned beneath his mask. It was an orange respirator, something to protect his lungs from the paint particles. Raph and Leo mandated it, Donnie built it. Such is most of the equipment that winds up in his hands. 

Along his waist, Mikey had an array of colors hooked along a belt. Ah!! Yes, his belt. It matched his respirator, bright orange with a butt ton of colors sprayed over it! It was the best way he found to transport his paints but!! It served a double purpose! Mikey was dipping his toes in the fashion pools, and that meant extravagant fashions and unique pieces!

All of which meant nothing to someone trying to remain incognito. So, unfortunately, Mikey was in dull, dark colors. He was wearing cargo pants and a hoodie. Both of which really were not very fashion forward but they hid the whole turtle thing, so it was working. But, we digress. This is not about fashion, though it could be, it is about art! Not that fashion isn’t art but-

Art. Mikey’s art. 

The young turtle leapt down from the rooftop, falling into a roll as his momentum carried him through it. He paused as he stood in front of the midtown tunnel entrance. Cars were passing slowly but at this time of night, they were either too busy trying to get home or onto some of their own seedy business to care about what some kid was doing.

If Mikey were a better kid, he’d investigate more. But right now he wasn’t a hero. 

He slowly walked into the tunnel, his hands pushed deep into his pockets as he walked deeper. The lights were a hazy orange-yellow, and Mikey was quietly noting to himself that his beautiful golden spray would not be useful in this light, but in his secret spot it would stand out. As he walked deeper into the tunnel, the sounds became amplified around him. The distant sounds of cars bounced off the walls and soaked into his skin. His walking turned to bouncing as he grew closer to his ideal spot. A maintenance door around a quarter of the way through. Mikey had scoped it out a while ago, it was the perfect place to put up a tag. As he came up on the door, Mikey pulled it open with ease and squeezed his way inside. He made sure to shut the door behind him, looking at the large room that was opened up to him. 

Right across from him, a large cement wall stood clear. He’d have to be worried about drippage but other than that? There was a large crack that settled diagonally. It ran from the upper left all the way down to the lower right, it was clear cut. 

It was the perfect canvas. 

Mikey pulled the first can out of his belt, shaking it violently. The small metal ball clattered against the sides over and over until Mikey felt the pigment within was mixed enough. With a pinch of his fingers, the cap popped off and clattered off to the side of the room, to be forgotten.

Then, he got to work. 

Today, Mikey had a personal goal. He was going to paint some of the sickest birds you have ever seen in your entire life. Mikey pulled out his crumpled up sketchbook paper as he got close to the wall, testing a spray or two before he started his outline. He was using a dark gray, something to be covered up later. 

And on went the layers, slowly but surely. Mikey loved spray painting, it made his brain go outside the box rather than stay inside its constrictions. He had to really focus on what was going where. But that’s why he was using a template. 

Time seemed to stop existing in that room, Mikey didn’t know how long he was down there. But he did know that, eventually, he came to a point where he was pleased with what he had done. He took a huge step back, letting the golden can drop to his side as he observed the scene right before him. Golden doves flying out of the crack in the wall, strong and powerful against the dull concrete. Mikey grinned, his hands moving to his hips. 

“Thinkin' in a bad way, losin' your grip. Screamin' at my face, baby, don't trip. Someone took a big L, don't know how that felt. Lookin' at you sideways, party on tilt.”

Mikey pulled out his phone, angling it as best he could to get the doves all in at once. As his finger hovered over the capture button, light appeared at the corner of his vision. 

Something strong was coming, that’s all Mikey knew, but he didn’t have time to react before a dark mass shot out of the light source and crashed into him. His phone went flying off in some distant direction, a flash of its own and the distinct shutter of the camera app were the only indications that it was still functional. 

Mikey tumbled to the floor, groaning as his own arm smacked him across the face. Had he been hit with a missile? Is that what happened?

Mikey slowly lifted his head up from the floor when he heard a groan that mirrored his own. 

“Leo..?”

“Whose Leo?”

The two figures froze as they stared at each other. Mikey.. Did not recognize this person. Their mask- At least he hoped it was a mask- was black with a spiderweb pattern. Eyes rimmed with a red fabric.

“Who are you??” Mikey questioned, very quick to leap up to his feet. The other figure pushed himself up, holding both his hands up quickly. Mikey felt the itch in his palms, the need to pull his weapon out and defend himself from this stranger. Especially because he could see some kind of device smoking from his wrist.

“It’s okay! I’m Spider-Man!” The stranger shouted, causing Mikey to cock his head to the side. 

“Spider-Man?? Who is that??” He questioned. 

The figure’s arms seemed to falter for a moment, his own head cocking to the opposite side. “You.. You don’t know who Spider-Man is? You know, webslinging hero of New York? Actually- Are we in New York City? Does New York exist?? Am I in Fallout??” 

Mikey blinked slowly at the figure, trying to figure out what this guy was babbling about. A.. A hero? Like in a comic book? He feels like he should be surprised, he really should. But somehow, compared to everything else, this somehow just seemed to make sense to him. Mikey didn’t understand the Fallout bit- but then he remembered his respirator. 

“Oh! No! No, no! I was just painting, no nuclear fallout at all!” Mikey shouted as he reached up and pulled his mask off without thinking. “See? Completely normal!”

“... You’re a turtle,” The stranger said slowly, his eyes turning into slits. Mikey looked down at mask then back up at them. 

“Okay, so not normal! But everyone else is! .. You aren’t panicking.” Mikey noted, his own eyebrows drawing together. 

“Well, no.. I mean, you are pretty weird- No offense! But uh.. I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff through my travels..” Their hand moved up to rub at the back of their neck.

“Travels…?”

Their eyes shot open, then they shook their head. “Isn’t it actually your turn to tell me something about you? Like uh, your name?”

“I’m Michelangelo, but everyone just calls me Mikey!” The turtle responded, holding his hand out, “I guess it’s nice to meet you… Spider-Man?”

“Gah- You know what? Call me Miles,” 

And just like that, the stranger had a name. 

Miles reached out, smacking his hand against Mikey’s. As if the two had done it thousands of times before, their fingers curled around each other in a secret handshake. The two stared at their hands for a long moment before Mikey pulled back first. Had they met somewhere before? Likely not, but Mikey couldn’t help but grin at this immediate connection. Maybe, they could be friends. 

“So, um, do you come through portals often?” Mikey questioned, leaning over to the side to look behind Miles. But the area around him was void of any light from before. Miles looked over his shoulder.

“Huh? Oh! No, not really. I mean, I do on occasion, yeah, but usually I try to stay home. You know, not trying to get in trouble. I just uh.. I guess the villain, his name is Electro..? Well, he fried this watch my friend gave me and.. Now I’m here.” Miles said, gesturing to the smoking device on his wrist. 

“... Can you get home..?” Mikey questioned, placing his hands on his hips. Miles’ eyes widened and he very quickly pulled the watch before his eyes, tapping at the screen as it flickered rapidly. “No.. No! Come on..” Miles muttered, brushing his hand against his face. 

“I.. Well, I can, but also I can’t. Here if I just..” Miles pressed the button on the side of the watch, listening to it chime for a moment. “That should give my location to my friend.. She can come get me, but until then..” 

Miles looked around, “You said you were painting?” 

Mikey’s grin slowly turned full blast as he saw the golden opportunity. He grabbed Miles’ wrist, pulling him the few feet he needed to just to turn the hero in the right direction to see it. 

“Oh, yo!” Miles’ eyes went ride as he crossed the space to come up to the wall. “This is sick, man! I love incorporating the environment around me into the piece, it feels like it really shows love to the canvas, you know?”

Mikey was quick to move up next to him, clapping his hands together, “Yeah! Yeah, ohmigosh, yeah. Wow. I am so glad that you understand, I feel like no one gets it around here!” 

“What? How can people not get it! I swear, art is dead,” Miles complained, crossing his arms over his chest. But he looked over to Mikey. He had no mouth but the little artist could see the smile that laid beneath the mask through his eyes alone. 

“I don’t think it’s dead, it’s just learning. You gotta respect the process,” Mikey noted as he pulled one of the cans from his belt, tossing it over to Mile, “Do you paint?”

Miles caught the can, looking it over for a moment. Ruby red, how appropriate. “Do I paint? All the time. Sometimes when you’re patrolling the streets, you have way too much free time on your hands. Mind if I tag a wall?”

Mikey mulled it over, looking at the space around him- He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have this entire room planned out head to toe. But then he let out a small hum. “Actually, please do. Then I have something to remember you by when you inevitably have to go home,”

Miles seemed to light up at that, shaking his can as he extended his arm out. With a sharp THWIP! A web shot out from his wrist and connected to the ceiling. Miles pulled himself up with it, finding a spot up by the ceiling. “I figure I’ll take over this spot up here where a land turtle like you can’t reach,” Miles teased, looking over his shoulder smugly as he started to spray the wall. 

“Don’t be too sure about that, spider! I may look grounded but I am as free as they come!” Mikey called back, but he refrained from showing off. Instead, he grabbed his own golden can of paint from the ground and moved to stand below Miles. In sync, the two started to paint. 

Mikey put his name in tag, sharp curves but sharper points. Large and proud! With it, he placed one of his signatures. A golden turtle shell- Kind of on the nose, he knows. But at this point, being subtle has not gotten him the results he has wanted.

Alternatively, Miles did much the same. In a bright red, he wrote “Miles” onto the wall. But he was less controlled- No, not less controlled at all. He was deliberate in where he let the paint build up. The drips of the paint rolled down the cement with practiced ease. Mikey admired that. While he was trying so hard to control his paints to make them look nice and proper, but this style was fun and unique!

 The two chatted as they worked, Miles talked about his life- Apparently he was a student and a hero at the same time. Mikey didn’t understand how he did it, Mikey could barely be a hero some days! But Mikey got to talk about his brothers some, he learned that Miles didn’t have any. That was wild! But April didn’t have siblings either so it wasn’t too wild. 

Instead, Miles had an infinite amount of himself out there to bond with. Mikey remembered listening to Donnie once upon a time, how the multiverse would allow for anything to be possible as long as it could be conceived. That meant, there were infinite versions of Miles. That also meant there were infinite versions of himself out there as well. 

But! That’s why Miles was here! Because he was able to travel to these universes. That’s how he met his friend Gwen!

“Yeah! And my friend, Peter, he showed me how to do all this cool stuff! He’s kind of like.. Well, you said your dad was your sensei? He’s kind of like mine,” Miles explained. 

Mikey grinned, “Oh yeah? That’s pretty cool! Maybe one day a version of me will come out of a portal and teach me how to be a cool hero,” he pondered, tapping his chin.

“Yeah? Well if he does, figure out how to come visit me.” Miles grinned. 

Mikey went to open his mouth, but as he did, that light came back. Mikey got a good look at it now. It was bright with various boxes glitching in and out of it. Like a comic tearing apart at the seams! It was cool!

But, that also means that Miles has to go. 

Miles sighs, dropping down to the ground before the portal, turning to face Mikey. “This is my ride..”

Mikey sighed, holding his hand out, “Come visit again, you here? We have an entire room to fill.”

Miles’ hand smacked into his, but instead of leaving it at a handshake, he pulled Mikey in for a hug. “I’ll be back before you know it, promise.” Miles smirked, stepping back from the hug. “Good luck, Mikey.”

Miles stepped through the portal, and Mikey stared at it until it disappeared. He stopped, looking around. There were so many cans everywhere. With a sigh, he gathered them all up. It was nearing morning, he needed to go home. Mikey almost left without his phone! Almost, of course. Because he did hear his text tone right as he was about to leave the room. He rushed over to the side of the room to pick it up. 

Delightfully, the screen wasn’t cracked at all. Donnie had said it could survive a 50 foot drop, and the small ten feet it flew was only a fraction of that. He moved to the center of the room, framing his golden doves once again in the middle of the screen. Mikey stuck his tongue out as he focused in and.. Snap! 

Mikey grinned, tapping the small photo icon to view his masterpiece. 

He paused, however, as he looked down at the small photo that was next up in the preview. He swiped his finger to the right and he couldn’t stop himself from breaking out into laughter.

On his phone screen, a photo of Miles and him both falling to the ground. Miles was flying with a bit more momentum than Mikey was, but both of their eyes were comically wide. He didn’t even realize his phone had captured this moment.

He left it alone, tucking his phone into his pocket as he once again left for the door. 

A week later, Mikey would come back. An image wouldn’t leave his mind, something that felt important enough to brand the room with. On the wall of that maintenance room in the tunnel, he recreated the portal where Miles disappeared. He made the comic boxes, the Ben-Day dots, he even tossed in a spider emblem or two. He didn’t know if Miles would come back, he certainly hoped so. Mikey needed more friends who could understand the things he like. 

Miles didn’t have to come back, he had left enough of an impression on the young artist, but if he did? Mikey had a spray can with his name on it waiting.

“Or you'll be left in the dust, unless I stuck by ya. You're the sunflower.

You're the sunflower.”

[exorcqism]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ❛ THE BLOOD PAINTER — 画家 , CHOSO KAMO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ art; it brought you both together. it brought you to a fair. wc, 2.42K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. i’m so proud of myself cuz i’m actually trying to keep up with everything. like i got the headcanons done now i’m working on this and infinity (unfortunately it’s ending) then i have to attempt to write the desire disease. i kinda went on a hiatus wit that one..ANYWAY hope ya enjoy :D reblog to support meeee and lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part

␥ tags. artist!choso, college AU, possible nsfw, female anatomy, smoking, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3 PART TWO

the camera flashed as the boys stood closely together, displaying their best smiles. the device lowered as a medium sized polaroid slid out of the slot in the front. choso shook his wrist, trying to get the photo to develop quicker. a small smile appeared on his lips once it showed up.

yuji poked his head over his brother’s shoulder, trying to see the photo. “i like that one. you should use that for your project.” choso gave a smile and nodded, keeping his little brother’s suggestion in mind.

it was a nice november afternoon and the brothers were spending the weekend at a fair. children ran around the area, playing and eating sweets. choso thought this was the perfect place to capture some photos.

the four boys made their way around the park, choso happily watching his three brothers play games together and enjoy themselves. each time itadori beckoned choso to join, he’d politely decline but he was eventually pulled into the shenanigans of his brothers.

once choso got some time to himself, he’d walk around the park after advising his brothers to stay together and try not to get lost in the huge crowds of people. he’d also give them a meeting point when it was time to head home.

treading lightly, taking in the sights of everything and flashing his camera at anything he found interesting, he heard someone call his name. a female voice, in fact. you were waving at choso with a soft smile on your face.

you seemed to be spending the day at the fair with your friends. each of you had food and a couple of your friends had big, large plushies that they might’ve won from playing the games. it made choso wonder why you didn’t get one.

your shoes clack against the ground as you made your way to the apathetic looking male but you could’ve sword you saw him smile but it could’ve been your mind playing tricks. choso had on a green sweater underneath the brown jacket he wore over it. even under the green sweater, you saw the black shirt poking out of it. he wore khaki cargo pants and his usual black boots—the ones you’ve been seeing him wear almost all the time.

you noticed the grey beanie that sat neatly over his dark short lengthed hair and the tote bag that he carried over his shoulder with stickers on the fabric. his violet eyes pierced yours once you had some distance from him.

“hey, i didn’t expect you to be here,” you beamed at the male, seeming quite happy to see the guy. suddenly, there was a bright flash covering your eyes, making you blink rapidly.

“sorry but your smile was worth capturing.” choso said in his usual, low adverb voice. your cheeks flushed a deep red color at his comment. you didn’t know if he was flirting or being serious. he tucks his camera away, gently putting it down into the tote bag then looking up at you.

“i didn’t expect you to be here either.” choso peered behind you, noticing your friends congregated around the cotton candy stand, standing closely to each other as they waited for you to return. “i see you brought some friends.”

“more like they brought me.” you laugh. “but yeah, it was a chance i didn’t wanna miss. didn’t wanna wait all the way until the new year or christmas to get with everyone and go to a festival. what about you? i see you got your camera, so you must’ve thought this was a good time too.”

“i promised that i’d take them out this weekend and i thought it’d be a good time to take pictures so i can finish my project and you know—get it over with.” he answered.

“yeah, that’s what i figured.” you replied. glancing around you tried to see where his brothers may be but there wasn’t anyone that stood out. “where are they?”

“i let them explore the place on their own. i didn’t want them to feel like they had to follow me around the entire time. i just told them to make sure that they stay together. i really don’t feel like running around this place looking for anyone.”

you giggled. having to look for so many people at once sounded hard and with choso being the eldest of the four, he had to do it all on his own.

just when you were about to let choso know that he could continue with his task, you noticed your friends waving their hands at you, seemingly wanting you to stay with him. you hadn’t declared that you were about to walk away yet, so it was pretty good timing.

inhaling and exhaling through your nose, you prepared the question in your mind, praying you didn’t sound stupid when the words exited your lips.

“did you wanna…uh..like hang out for the rest of the day?”

choso’s cheeks flushed. the bandage that covered the bridge of his nose looked fluorescent because of the blood rushing to his face. his lips parted to speak but it was like your words restricted him from even saying what he wanted to say to you.

‘just say yes, damn it.’

choso shook his head ‘yes’ despite the voice in his head yelling at him to speak actual words and stop pretending to be mute. though, it couldn’t be helped. the poor boy was nervous and he never had these kinds of interactions with women. he was always too shy to speak unless they spoke to him first.

with that, the two of you stroll around the park, stopping at each of the games. he picked up that you were pretty playful like yuji was. always wanting to try something new even if you were scared.

that meant getting on a roller coaster that went at intense speeds and rose up at unfathomable heights. you were wondering how people enjoyed these without screaming and crying out of fear. but you kept optimistic.

“woah, you’re past the limited height mark.” you laughed as the two of you boarded the coaster, sitting next to each other. choso was significantly taller than you were. he was quite literally towering over you.

“uh…is that a good thing?” he asked, cheeks still a bit flushed, adding some kind of life to his pale skin. you smiled and nodded, laughing a little. the staff would strap the passengers, including the both of you, into the seats before yelling final warnings before starting.

before you knew it, the ride began and the wind smacked your face harder than anyone ever could. it was definitely an experience…an exciting one, at that.

when the ride ended, you were jumping up and down with excitement. “lets go on again. that was so fuckin fun.” you squealed. choso somehow already looked worn out and more tired than he usually did. he’d adjust his beanie as he grabbed his bag from the cubbies at the entrance.

“maybe later…” he huffed. you pouted.

“fine, we’ll go before we leave. but at least try to play the games. you could win some plushies for your brothers.” you suggested. choso raised an eyebrow. instead of letting him answer, you pulled him along.

arriving at a balloon popping game, your anxiety suddenly shot up. you hated the sound of balloons popping. you weren’t particularly scared of them but you hated the popping sound or the thought of someone popping it.

the male beside you quickly picked up on it and handed you his ipod. “would you like to listen to some music while i play?”

you could’ve easily said no and pulled out your own phone but you decided not to do that since choso was letting you use his things. after thanking him for offering his ipod to you, your plug in your headphones and searched for a song you liked. once you found a couple songs, you’d turn the music up so you didn’t have the dreadful popping sound.

soon enough, the game was over and choso was walking back to you, holding a snorlax plushie. two of them in fact. it’s tired and relaxed expression reminded you of choso.

“hm, is this for me?” you asked, seeing the plushie being held in front of you. choso nodded. you weren’t really expecting to get anything today unless one of your friends got it for you or you just got lucky and won the prize on your own.

your hands wrapped around the plushie and you smiled at it. in exchange for the plushie, you returned his ipod.

“thanks.” you say softly.

as the day begins to fade away, you and choso found yourselves on the ferris wheel, slowing going up to the top. it was a great view. choso flashed his camera at the scenery as the lights of the fair lit up the ground below them. the polaroid slowly pushed out of the slot of the camera. the male would take it and gently shake it to develop the image.

“how many pictures have you taken so far?” you asked, turning your attention away from the ground and towards choso.

“i’ve taken exactly thirty two pictures, these past couple days. they’re more than enough but i strive for extra success in my assignment and creativity.” he spoke. “yesterday, i bought an empty scrapbook so i can decorate it all myself.”

“you gonna put me in it?” you smirk. choso paused, thinking back to earlier when he had took a picture of you unexpectedly. he’d scratch his neck, looking hesitant on answering you. he nodded, quietly replying ‘yes’ to your question.

“i’ll be sure to include you.” he whispered. a sudden thought appeared in his mind. the thought made him dig down into his bag and pull out a pen. it was actually your pen.

“i…meant to give this back to you a month ago...it was during the orientation when school started.” choso said. “i just forgot to give it back and i…i-uh—didn’t know where to find you.”

you raised your eyebrows. you weren’t heavily worried about the pen, though you were a bit upset that you lost it on that particular day. it was definitely your favorite pen.

shaking your head you lowered choso’s hand as he attempted to give you the pen back. “no, it’s okay. you can keep it. i have a bunch of other pens and pencils i could use. it’s not a big deal.”

“really?” choso put his hand down into his lap once you lowered his hand. “i thought you’d be upset about it…or at least want it back. i mean—i’d want my stuff back if i lost it…uh—are you..are you sure you don’t want it back?”

“nope, it’s okay.” you assured. choso seemed a bit surprised. he was still uncertain but you insisted that he kept the tool, so he placed it back into his bag along with everything else he had packed inside. “lets just enjoy the night, okay?”

“yeah….sure. enjoy the night.”

when the time at the fair was surely ending, the two made their way to the entrance. there, yuji, eso, and kechizu were waiting for their big brother and your friends were waiting for you also, one of them dangling their keys to signal you that the car would come around to get you.

“head to the car.” choso softly commanded and the three boys would walk to the parking lot, leaving you and choso alone.

“well, i’ll see you back at school, hm?” the male says to you, adjusting the tote bag over his shoulders then pulling his sweater down.

“yeah, i’ll see you at school, monday.” you smiled. you were about to head to the car when you noticed your friends pulling up but you stopped yourself. “hey, lets exchange numbers. we can talk a little more and maybe hang out—uh…if it’s cool with you, i mean.”

choso nodded and gave you his phone. you typed your name and number into his phone before handing it back to him. “thank you…i mean—uh, i’ll call you…maybe—probably.” he stammered, making you laugh.

“call me,” you smiled before walking towards the car before speaking again. “i had a good time by the way. i really hope we can do this again soon.”

“yeah…me too.” choso chuckled.

when choso got into the driver’s seat of the car, yuji leaned over, removing his feet from the dashboard. he had a smirk on his face. a mischievous look that anyone could recognize.

“i saw you flirting over there…” he prompted.

“i…no i wasn’t.” choso stammered, feeling his face starting to heat up all over again. “i was just talking to her…nothing more.”

eso hummed, “it just depends on what was said.”

yuji flung his head from eso to choso again, his smirk growing wider as another idea formed in his mind. “well, what’d you say, big bro?”

“uh…is getting her phone number considered flirting?”

the entire car went silent for a moment.

“i think you just got a girlfriend.” yuji grinned.

upon arriving home, you made your way to your room with a smile on your face, reminiscing about the time you had at the fair. of course, you had a good time with your friends during the first half of your trip but the second half was even better, making the entire day more memorable.

you gently place the snorlax plushie choso won for you onto your bed, your smile growing just a bit wider. once you got settled and put on some pajamas, you grab your phone to do some late night scrolling before you fall asleep. that’s when you got a text.

‘hey it’s choso..the guy in your english class’

‘i just wanted to make sure i’m not texting a fake number’

you could hear his relaxed, deep voice echoing through your mind as you read the words on the screen, encased in a blue box. your thumbs swiftly punched the letters on your screen as you typed back.

‘no you aren’t texting a fake number it’s me lmao’

‘i wouldn’t purposely give you the wrong number, that’s kinda mean’

‘okay good just wanted to be sure. are you home? you got back safely with no incidents right?’

you smiled at the message. you knew choso well enough to know that he was a very caring person. it had only been a few weeks and you easily picked this up. the way he spoke of his family made this part of him stand out, shedding some light on the artistic man with that dull expression.

‘no incidents’

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

[pagegirlintraining]

“Eriksson… ah, yes.” The smile on her face widened a bit as she seemed to have located his name on her clipboard. “You’re in room 15 in Skogsbacken House. Ground floor. Jonas here is going to give you your lanyard and key.”

Simon accepted the items that were held out to him by the young man at her side with a polite smile. He didn’t have time to utter a proper thank you, seeing as Anna recaptured his attention with a delighted noise.

“Oh, how lovely. It seems you and your roommate can find the way together.” With that, her gaze wandered slightly past Simon, causing him to follow it and turn around.

Behind him, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a larger, oblong one propped up against his waist, stood a boy who was a good head taller than Simon. He was in an oversized blue t-shirt that fell loosely around his slim frame, covering a good part of the beige cargo pants underneath. What captured Simon’s attention way more than his outfit, though, was the very short, very blonde hair on the boy’s head. Bleached, for sure, went through Simon’s head, before that thought was replaced with a much more important realization.

No. Don’t tell him he’d be rooming with—”

“Wilhelm. So lovely to have you with us this year,” Anna was saying, continuing in the same cheerful tone like she wasn’t just in the middle of giving Simon the worst news ever. “You’ll be rooming with Simon here. Say hi, boys.”

The first chapter of enemies to lovers meets roommates meets music school AU is out 😍

Thanks to everyone who’s been nice enough to let me vent/gush/cry to them about this one, and especially to the ultra amazing @skibasyndrome for giving me your (in)coherent thoughts and genuine enthusiasm 💜💜💜

Hope you all enjoy ☺️

[dc-marvel-life]

Perfect Fit

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha x reader

Word Count: ~2.6K

Summary: Y/N is the new member joining the Avengers that came from a top-secret program in SHIELD that she was in all her life. Now that she has joined the team, she is experiencing life for the first time. She has caught the eye of the two most powerful women on the team.

A/N: I haven't had any requests, so I am posting a story that I am making on my AO3. This will be a series. My request is still open. 

Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

We all know that there are infinite different universes that are different from one another. This one is the same as the rest. In this universe, the Avengers made the team ten years ago with a group of teenage superheroes. Iron Man, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Thor, Scarlet Witch, Falcon, Winter Soldier, and Captain Marvel made the original team. Five years later, Spiderman, Black Panther, Yelena, and Kate join the group.

They all live on the Avenger compound, a vast building that houses the Avengers and their every need. Thanks to Tony, the facility is all high-tech and has F.R.I.D.A.Y. It has many bedrooms, bathrooms, a game room, a movie room, a weight room, a training room, a vast kitchen, a pool, a garden, etc.

The team is running smoothly, but SHEILD has a program that they want to test out. The program is called Project Gene X, and it is a program that had eight infants with the mutant gene. When the mutant gene was discovered, SHEILD ensured they were on top of it. They were able to find eight infants that they were able to keep in custody legally. All the kids did growing up was train and discover their powers. Over time, not all of the kids could stay in the program for different reasons, but there were only two in the end.

The two were fighting for the open spot in the Avengers, and Fury finally made a choice. The team knew they would get another teammate soon, but they didn’t know when.

Fury called a meeting with all the Avengers in the conference room at the Avengers compound. Now they are just waiting for Fury to show up.

“So does anyone know what this meeting is for,” Tony says, tapping a pen on the table while looking around the room.

“Maybe we are all going on a huge mission,” Bucky says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Ooo, I hope so because I haven’t been on any mission recently. I need to get out of this compound now,” Sam says, leaning back in the chair.

“Let's hope Fury doesn’t send us on a mission then, so we can all go out tonight. How does that sound?” Carol says.

“I like that idea! I’ll call a few clubs right now to get us on the VIP list,” Tony says, pulling out his phone, and everyone nods.

“I can’t wait to go clubbing!” Peter says excitedly.

“Not you, young fry,” Natasha says, and everyone laughs. At that moment, Fury walks into the room, and everyone goes silent. Everybody's attention goes to Fury, waiting to see what he called the meeting for. “I bet you all are wondering why I called this meeting. Well, I wanted to get you all together so you can meet your new teammate Agent Y/N Y/L/N” Fury says. Y/N comes into the room with black cargo pants held up with, a black utility belt with many pockets, and a black short sleeve shirt. She goes and stands next to Fury with her arms crossed behind her back.

“Agent Y/N was part of a secret project that has been going on for years in SHIELD. Now she has earned a spot on the team with you all. She has the mutant gene and will be a great addition to the team. I won’t give you guys a mission for the next few days, so you all can get to know one another. I hope you all welcome her with open arms,” Fury says, then walks out of the room.

Once Fury closes the door, all eyes are on Y/N. The room was silent, and Y/N didn’t know what was happening.

“So tell us about yourself, Y/N,” Steve says, breaking the awkward silence filling the room. Y/N stood there momentarily, not knowing what to say to them. Since she was a baby, she has been training with little to no social life. Her only friends were the people in the program, but once they left, they never stayed in connect. It was just the way of the program not to have many contacts outside. Y/N never developed her own personality, but she knew one thing.

“I am a homosexual!” Y/N blurt out after a minute of not responding to Steve’s question leaving everyone wondering. Then Y/N says that and shocks everyone. Some people tried to hold back their laughs because they thought it was a joke.

“I am sorry that I said that. Well, I am a homosexual, but you know what I mean. I didn't know how to respond when you asked that question. My whole life was about being in the program, so I don’t know too much about myself,” Y/N says with her arms still crossed behind her back.

“What is this program/project that Fury said that you were in? I have never seen you before or heard of a secret project,” Clint asked curiously about what SHEILD was hiding from everyone. Y/N was hesitant because she was told never to talk about the program unless it was with someone with an equal or greater level than her.

“Yes sir, the project was…..” Y/N started to talk, but Clint stopped her.

“Don’t call me sir. I feel so old when you say that, and I am pretty sure we are the same age,” Clint says while faking like he had a chill.

“No problem, Mr. Barton,” Y/N says.

“No, no, no, just call me Clint. You know all of our names, right?” Clint ask.

“Sorry, Clint, and yes, I know all of your names,” Y/N says, and she can feel her body tighten. Y/N’s mind is going a mile a minute because she worries she is messing everything up.

“Relax, sweetie, you are too tense and thinking too loud,” Wanda says in a calming voice. Y/N looks over at Wanda, nervous.

“You can hear my thoughts?” Y/N says in shock. Y/N knew that Wanda was powerful and could read minds but not like this.

“Yes, I can. I promise I don’t read minds for fun. I can only hear them without trying because you are overthinking right now. Take a deep breath in and out,” Wanda says with a smile. Y/N takes a few deep breaths in and out and finally calms down a bit. She eventually moves her arms from behind her back.

“I am sorry. I have been waiting for this moment for a long time and can’t believe it is happening. Now I am a nervous mess. Anyway, my project was called Project Gene X. I was taken in by SHEILD as an infant because of my mutant gene. Growing up, I was trained to be the best agent while using my powers. Our end goal was to be a part of the Avengers. It was down to one other person and me, and we had to fight for it. I won, and now I am here,” Y/N proudly says.

“Wait for a second! This is crossing way too many lines! So you are telling me that SHIELD pretty much had their red room! I need to talk to him now about this,” Natasha says, getting up from her chair. Wanda gets up and tries to calm down her girlfriend.

“No, Natasha, it wasn’t like that. Every year after we hit age five, we were often asked if we wanted to stay in the program. Most of the kids dropped out by age 14, and only the other person left in the program was me. It sounds like the red room, but it isn’t at all. I had a great time there and enjoyed myself very much,” Y/N says to everyone but most importantly, Natasha. You can see that Natasha is mad right now because her hands are balled up, and her face is as red as a tomato. She looks like she will fight someone, but Wanda is beside her to calm her down. It seems like they are having a conversation with their minds. After a bit, Natasha takes a deep breath and sits back at the table.

“Okay, it is not as bad as the red room, but it is still like it. I will talk with him about it later,” Natasha says.

“Yeah, Project Gene X doesn’t sound too well, but he did the same for us ten years ago, starting the Avengers. We were like, what 13-16-year-olds running around saving the world. What is done is done; let's move on and have a great time with our new team member,” Sam says, trying to lighten to mood.

“Yeah, I agree with Sam! That means we should all go out and have a party!” Tony says, pumping his fist because he wants to attend a club tonight.

“We are supposed to be bonding as a team, and we can’t go to the club because Peter is only 20 years old,” Carol points out to Tony. Tony quietly mimics Carol.

“Or we can have a party here and invite people to come, so no one is excluded. How does that sound?” Kate says.

“Not a bad idea. Now we need to throw the best house party ever! I will make some calls now,” Tony says, getting up and calling someone.

“So let’s get you to settle into here, Y/N. By the way, to formally introduce myself. I am Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, and I am 25. The rich boy over there on the phone is Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, who is 25,” Steve says, and everyone starts to introduce themselves with their real name, superhero name, and age.

“So Y/N, you say you were in the program because you have the mutant gene. What is your power?” Sam asks, and everyone's attention is back on Y/N, wondering what her power is.

“My power is absorption. So any material that I touch, I can turn my whole body into that. That is why I have this belt with different strong materials like vibranium, adamantium, diamond, chromium, and more,” Y/N says while removing her metals from her belt. She puts them all out on the table, then picks up the adamantium. She holds the adamantium in her palm and turns her whole body into adamantium.

Everyone is in awe of Y/N’s powers. She turns back into her usual self and puts her metals back into her belt.

“Now, that’s an extraordinary power that can come in handy. I am happy that you are on the team; now, let’s give you a tour of the facility,” Steve says; he stands up, leading the way to give the tour while everyone else shuffles out of the room except for Natasha and Wanda.

“Wait! Can Nat and I give the tour to Y/N?” Wanda asks. Natasha whispers something into Wanda’s ear to make her laugh. Y/N looks at the pair, confused about why they want to give the tour.

“Of course,” Steve smiles and looks to Y/N, “you will be in good hands. I will catch you later,” Steve says and leaves the room, leaving only Y/N, Natasha, and Wanda staring at each other.

“Are you ready for the tour?” Wanda asks.

“Yes, I am. Let me go and grab my bag” Y/N walk over to the door and picks up one small duffle bag.

“Is that all you have? You know you are moving in here for good, right?” Wanda questions Y/N.

“Yes, this is it. My whole life is in this bag, actually,” Y/N says, a little nervous because she didn’t know that she was supposed to have more than this.

“It’s okay, I understand. Being an agent means you must pack light,” Natasha says to comfort Y/N.

“Thanks, Natasha. Since I will be here for the long run, maybe I can do some shopping for stuff,” Y/N says, and Wanda squeals in excitement.

“Shopping trip!” Wanda says, jumping up and down.

“Dorogoy, maybe we should let Y/N get settled first, then talk about going on a shopping trip,” Natasha says to Wanda, then looks at Y/N, “also you can just call me Nat,” Nat says to Y/N with a soft expression.

“Okay, Nat, and I would love to go shopping. Never been on one before,” Y/N says, smiling at the pair.

“Alright, we will go shopping with you one day, but for now, let’s tour the place and show you to your room,” Nat says, and they take Y/N on a tour of the building showing all the bells and whistles. They end up in front of Y/N’s new room.

“And the last part of our tour is your room. This is great because right across here is our room,” Wanda says, pointing to the door right across.

“You guys share a room?” Y/N looks at them curiously.

“Yes, I would hope so. It would suck that I didn’t share a room with my girlfriend of what….. 7 years now,” Nat says, looking lovingly into Wanda’s eyes. Y/N smiles at the pair and looks at their hands to see two rings. Nat and Wanda notice it.

“They’re just promise rings that we gave each other when we were 18,” Wanda clarifies.

“That’s so sweet,” Y/N says with a bit of disappointment because she did have a crush on Wanda and Nat for the longest time after finding out about them years ago.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Wanda asks.

“No, I have never been in a relationship with anyone. I have done stuff with people, but those were mission-based, and nothing ever came out of it. The good thing is now I am free and single. Ready to get out there,” Y/N says and starts to laugh, with Wanda and Nat joining her.

“Sorry, that sounded lame saying it out loud,” Y/N says and continues to laugh. Y/N opens her room door and gasps.

“Wow, this room is so big, and I have a queen bed,” Y/N says, running into the room, dropping her bags, then jumps onto her bed.

“And the bed is so soft. I am going to love this place,” Y/N says, getting comfortable in bed while Nat and Wanda watch in awe.

“She is so cute,” Wanda says, and Nat agrees with her.

“So why did you guys want to show me around the place? I am just curious” Y/N sits up in bed, looking at the pair.

“If you want us to be honest here, we wanted to show you around to get to know you and become friends. We are always together, and we need more friends that are women. Yes, we have Kate, Yelena, and Carol, but it is not the same. Yelena is Nat's younger sister, and they get on each other nervous all the time, but it is out of love. Plus, we think Yelena and Kate are secretly dating and not telling anyone. Carol likes to hang out with Sam and Bucky to do dumb shit with. So we saw you and thought we could have a new friend to do stuff with,” Wanda says moving side to side like she is nervous about something.

“Well, I will be an honor to be your friend,” Y/N said, smiling at them and making Nat and Wanda melt.

“Gosh, you are so cute. I think I can say that we are happy to have become friends for the two of us. We will let you get settled here before the party tonight. If you need us, we are across the hallway,” Wanda says and starts to walk out of the room, with Nat closing the door to leave Y/N in her thoughts.

“This is going to be the best time of my life,” Y/N says, sighing and lying in bed.

[jadedwolf18-blog]

Joke’s on You!

Hi! Don’t shoot! I have gifts!

I put Jokes on You on AO3 so you can find the full fic there, if this is the first time seeing this fic, otherwise you are welcome to try and find my original chapter posts by combing my Blog Archive. Here’s the latest two chapters if you’re up for if you’re up to date. Otherwise I recommend clicking the link to get all the chapters in on place!

Ok, enjoy you Beasties(affectionate)!

🤍🖤💚💙💚🖤🤍

Chapter 8: Bats and Stalkers

Red Hood watched as his newest subordinate flittered around their current base, the kid had shown up two weeks ago and had slowly integrated themself into his gang. Hood still didn’t know if he should trust the kid or not but other than a strange buzz whenever they were near, he had no reason to mistrust them. The kid was… strange but seemed to genuinely want to help despite having admitted to practically stalking him for weeks before approaching. He huffed as he thought over their first encounter.

*****

Jason sighed as he leaned back, legs dangling over the edge of the abandoned theatre's roof. It was a slow night and the semi-peace had him on alert, calm in Gotham almost never bode well for anyone. He'd removed his Hood, Domino in place as he looked over Crime Alley, smoke trailing from his lips as he took a drag from his cigarette.

The usual Gotham smog clouded the sky, obscuring the stars from view. It was nearing early morning when a scuff from behind had him instinctively grabbing his guns as he got to his feet and spun around to face the intruder. Pausing to take in the figure in front of him. They had their hands up in a show of peace and remained calm under hoods scrutiny. "who are you?"

Instead of a verbal answer, they slowly began to sign. "I want to join you. I'm new in Gotham, been following the bats and rogues the last few weeks. Thought my skills and goal lined up best with yours"

'Huh, that's knew.' Jason leaned down to pick up his Hood and put it on before replying. "Why'd you think that? If yah know who I am, what's your goal?"

The kid? they looked about Duke or Tims age, not that he could tell much from the full head and face mask they wore. Similar to Black Bat. 'A copy cat?'' He took the chance to look them over more thoroughly as he waited for a response. Their outfit covered every inch of skin and was mostly black with thin hacker green and screen blue lines running along the seams and crisscrossing their chest, almost resembling the motherboard of a computer, the area covering the eyes glowed faintly and was the same screen blue, there was also a neon red X over the mouth area that looked to have been painted on rather aggressively over a silver grin.

The boots they wore were strange, they were similar to Nightwing's skintight suit but in place of the thin flexible soles, they had thick heavy silver platforms that resemble combat boots. 'how'd they sneak up on me in those?' he wondered. Tucked into the boots was a pair of loose cargo style pants, held up with a silver belt. The top once again bore resemblance to Nightwing's skin tight suit with the sleeves continuing on to cover the hands, each finger tipped in silver claws.

Movement from their hands caught his attention, he paid keen attention as they signed. "1-Personal investment in taking down the Joker. 2-Need help, you were the best bet in letting me get my shot, others would try talk me out of it. 3-Don't feel like being a Rogue. 4-I'm good at gathering info unnoticed."

They let their hands drop to their sides but kept them in sight, head cocked to the side as they waited for a reaction. Hood thought it over. "Prove the last one and I'll let you in on a trial run. Once you do that we can go over house rules and the types of jobs you'll get."

Jason had fully expected the kid to agree and leave to gather information on some gang or something. He was not expected for them to slowly reach behind them and pull out multiple folders, from seemingly nowhere and toss the stack onto the floor between them. Giving them another once over, he saw nowhere they could have possible hid the stack. Looking from the stack to the kid in question, he tilted his head in silent inquiry. They gat the message and began to sign. "That's all the info I gathered on the other Bats during my time observing them, as well as information I gathered on various Rogues and factions in Gotham"

Jason's brow rose under his hood as he slowly moved to pick up the files. flipping through the stack, he could feel his brows clime higher and higher as he did before farrowing when he got to the folders on the Bats. The files were incredibly detailed, describing each of their patrol routes, rotations, preferred routes, habits, favourite rest stops and they even went into detail on their relationships and who paired best with who for fights and recon missions.

He glanced up at the kid, who was currently staring up at the smog filled sky. 'I'll have to leave soon, the sky is already started to turn pale.' He quickly skimmed through the rest of the files, almost snorting as he came across a picture of Nightwing face planting a window at Wayne Enterprises Tower. 'It's a good thing Bruce had all the windows reinforced'. His humour quickly turned into a scowl when he came across a picture of Red Hood dangling from his ankle after being caught in a trap set by Spoiler. "What's your plan if I say no?"

"Black Mail you into letting me join." Jason's brows shot up at that.

"And if that fails?" Jason was curious, what would this kid do?.

"Help you any way. You just wont see me." Jason resisted the urge pinch the bridge of is nose.

"Fine Kid, I'll let you in for a trial period of a month, if you double cross me in any way you're out. Got it?"

Jason received a nod and salute from the kid. "Alright, come here tomorrow at 9pm and I'll lead you to the warehouse we use for debriefs. We'll start on one of the gangs we've been onto for awhile, you got some good tips here. From there we'll test your skills. Now, What do I call you kid?"

"Not a kid. 18. You can call me Hex." With that the kid stepped back, spun and made a running leap to the next roof top. Quickly disappearing into the distance.

"Hex, huh." He'd have to keep an eye on them, they were good, if they could keep tabs on the Bats without being caught. he bit his lip as he looked through the files again until he found the one on Black Bat. 'I really hope this kid doesn't turn out to be a budding Rogue... this is Tim level of fuck all stalking and the fact they manage to make a file on Black Bat... She hadn't mentioned anything, so either she felt there was no threat or she did not detect them at all.'  With a heavy sigh, Jason gathered the files and stuffed them in to the bag he used for collecting shit from the dealers or thugs he came across during patrols. Stretching out, he slung the bag over his shoulder and made his way down to his bike. it was time to get back to his safe house and sleep before tackling whatever the hell that encounter had been.

*****

Danny yawned as they stretched out on their couch, it had been two weeks since they got themselves an in with Hoods gang, things were going well so far. They were still doing grunt work being a runner, but Danny found it fascinating. It reminded them of watching his sperm donor's operations but at the same time it was the complete opposite. Where before they were always wary, now they were at ease and confident in their safety. Back then there was always screams, crying and fights in the background, with the current Red Hood? There was a camaraderie, a deep understanding that they work to help those in Crime Alley.

Hood ruled by respect, fear and protection. It settled something in Danny to see the Red Hood title so far removed from their childhood memories. It was also a surprise to find that Red Hood was the source of the Angry/Hurt tugging they had felt here and there since entering Gotham. Red Hood was a Revenant, a sick one at that. Danny had slowly been filtering the corrupt ectoplasm via proximity and was happy to feel the Anger slowly drain away. They couldn't do much about the other emotions but the Anger was defiantly a direct result of the corruption.

"Oomph!" Danny's thoughts were interrupted by a weight landing on their back. "Hello to you too. Why are you trying to suffocate me, this fine afternoon?"

"I Know" There was something smug in her voice.

"Know what?" Danny gave a half hearted attempt to dislodge the Little Shadow but she only readjusted and they gave up with a huff.

"Hex." Danny stiffened and made to sit up, Cass easily slid off them and sat next to them.

"How?" Danny observed her, she was calm and didn't look or feel upset, they were rather confused about the Happy/Smug/Mistchief she was unknowingly giving off.

"Was following Red Hood, He was acting strange. Good strange but strange. Saw Hex use Sign for Me. Only you use Swan sign but Hex used Swan and Hood say Black Bat!" She really looked proud of herself. They had figured out the Bats were the Waynes almost immediately after seeing Nightwing do a quadruple flip and Black Bat's Liminalty gave her away as Cass.

"Ok, fine I'm Hex... What now?" They looked at her curiously. 

"Keep secret. Not tell Bats, yet." Danny watched as she seemed to hesitate before continuing in sign. They froze as they watched her hands. "Bats found the Ecto-Act, Big bat is not happy and is investigating how no one found it before. He also wants to know why he was not told and if calls to the Justice League was made."

Danny sighed and flopped back into the couch. turning to look at Cass they decided to tell he the parts of their story they left out the last time. Seems help was coming sooner than they expected. This changed a few things but over all? It was good. They felt Cass snuggle into their side. Danny glanced at her and smiled before grabbing their phone and ordering takeout. Seems they were having a stay in day. They might ask for the nigh off from Hood if Cass doesn't have patrol, they could watch movies and dance. Yeah, that sounds good.

Chapter 9: Stalker meet Stalker

Hex hid in the shadows, ever observant as they waited for their chance to make an appearance. During their observation and information gathering, in order to guarantee a way into Hoods gang, they had noticed the source of the main reason they were in this Cursed city was coming from the Red Bird. So every chance they got, Hex would go out and follow the Red Bird to figure out if the tugging was coming from him specifically or from an object he was carrying. The Red Bird was currently wrapping up an attempted robbery. Hex leaned back on the ledge, rubbing a hand over their chest where they knew their core rested. The tugging was more frantic now that they were so close to figuring it out. A click got their attention and they realised all the thugs had been secured and the Red Bird was getting ready to continue his patrol.

'There!' Hex jumped to the next roof, landing just as Red Robin swung over the ledge. Hex watched as the Bird paused and settle into a well hidden ready stance as he took notice of the fact he wasn't alone.

*****

"Who are you?" Tim kept his focus on the unknown as he subtly clicked the alert on his belt. It would let the others know he had encountered an unknown but to hold back until they are confirmed to be hostile. The unknown tilted their head to the side as they slowly lifted their hands, Tim watched as they began to sign.

"They call me Hex. You have something I've been looking for." Hex leaned against the large vent, hands still visible.

Tim waited but when they didn't continue, he shifted into a more relaxed stance. "And what would that be?" 

Tim watched as they slumped slightly, giving the impression they were sighing. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Tim raised a brow at that. "Then how do you know I have what you want?"

Hex straitened a little before signing. "Something... Something lead me to this city, something was tugging me here. If it wasn't for that feeling, I never would have stepped foot in this Cursed City. But... certain circumstances left me a lot of free time and the tugging grew near painful. So, I followed it, it lead me to this city, it lead me to you. I had no idea if it was an object or a person." Tim watched as they stretched and straitened fully, shifting to face Red Robin straight on. Tim tensed, as he straightened up himself. "Now standing so close, I can tell the pull is coming from you, you directly, not something on your person. Now, I'm left with the question. 'Why?'."

Tim flinched at the sudden sound of Hex's voice. It was distorted and sounded like it was overlayed by static. He was quick to fall into a more ready stance. "So what now? You going to try capture me to figure it out?"

"No." Red Robin watched as Hex took a step back. "I know what, or rather who, the pull is coming from. Now, I need to figure out Why and How but it's clear you know nothing about it."

With that Red Robin watched as Hex flipped back and over the edge of the roof. Tim gave chase slamming into the roof top barrier and peered over the edge but there was no one there. Hex had vanished. A click from his comms had him snapping to attention. Tapping his comm once he connected to the private channel. "Red, Report."

"The unknown has left, they are apparently in Gotham because something lead them here. They were following it and, according to them, it lead them to me. They don't appear hostile, just someone searching for answers." Tim unlatched his grapple hook. "I believe it would be best to observe but do not engage in case that changes."

"Hn, can I leave this to you Red? Or should I put one of the others on this?" Tim took aim at the next roof. 

"I'll be involved either way." Tim shot his grapple. "But I'll take a back seat on this one, do the paperwork and research, if they make contact again, then I'll put it on a higher priority. O.G.J.J. takes precedence."

"Don't push yourself Red. I'd rather you stepped back from anything involving the Joker." With a tug to insure it was secure, Tim stood on the ledge and swung through the Gotham night, landing on the buildings gravel top. 

"I know B. But it's my case, I'll see it through." Silence fell on the comms. Aim, shoot, check and fly. Red robin soared though Gotham, watching out for any petty crimes or signs of trouble as he did a final lap of his patrol route.

"We're here, I'm here if you need help. Don't forget that Son." The Comms clicked signalling Batman had switched back to the main channel.

Tim's breath hitched as he drew in a deep breath. "I know Dad, I know."

Tim shook himself before making his way through the city and towards his bike. His thoughts on his current case and the new mystery. It would seem he'll be needing a new Pin Board.

*****

Danny narrowed their eyes as they watched the Red Bird fly away. Their Core gave a particularly hard yank as they watch him disappear behind the taller buildings. 'Just what is your connection to me Birdie.' Danny sighed as he thought of just Who the Red Bird is behind the mask. Slinking further into the shadows, Hex vanished into the night. 

*****

"And just where have you been?" His tone was light but the hint of accusation was clear in Hoods voice. Jason watched as Hex slipped into his office and made themself comfortable on one of the couches, stretching out like a particularly satisfied cat. Giving the kid a once over, he gave a mental nod of satisfaction, noting they had no visible or obvious injuries. The kid sat up and began signing.

"Here and there, I got the information you wanted." Hex once again pulled a file out of nowhere and tossed it at him. Jason caught it and was quick to open it and go over the information. Remnants of the Black Mask gang had been seen gathering recently and Jason didn't feel like waiting for them to become a problem. 

"What else were you up to?" Jason looked up from the file to pin Hex with a look. Though the Hood hid it. Hex sat up and pulled their legs up to sit cross-legged, staring right back at Red Hood.

"Bird watching, the red one has caught my interest, seems he has a connection to what I'm looking for." Hex sighed and slumped back into the couch. "After observing him and having a little chat... I have an idea as to what it is but not the how or the why he is connected."

"Whatever it is, it's not gonna cause trouble or put the Bird in danger." It wasn't a question, the threat was clear.

"I don't know. I hope not but with the way my life is going..." Jason observed the way Hex had hunched in on themself. The kid was good at what they do and Jason new the kid truly wanted to help more but something was haunting them, following them from wherever they came from. Jason waited for them to continue. "I have a few theories but I'm not liking any of them or the tapestry they are threading because if I'm right. Then if it weren't for my mother dumping me on my Donor My life could have gone so differently. And I would never have wished my life on another I would have died of guilt if I ever found out."

"Just let me know if you need help, or at least give a heads up if you think things will go south. I may be on the fringes but the Bats and Birds are still allies, nothing better happen ta' Red, yeah hear." Jason turned and headed for his desk, he had plans to make. As he sat down he heard a scuff and looked up. Hex was standing in front off his desk, rocking on their heels. "Ya' need something?"

"I'll be taking the next two nights off, I'll be out of town for a date" Jason felt his brow raise at that. The kid has partner? Huh, would you look at that.

"Oh? Where ya' goin' and who's the unfortunate soul?" Jason smirked at the offended huff he received from the kid.

"1st, None of you business Boss and 2nd, Black Bat." Before Hood could react, Hex had vaulted over the couch and slipped out the door. By the time Jason had gotten up and to the door, Hex was gone.

"Get back 'ere ya' Rat!" Hood yelled down the hall, even knowing it would be useless. "Damn Brat!"

*****

Cass paused in her packing when her phone started blasting 'I'm a Barbie Girl'. Tilting her head in curiosity, she set down the shirt she was folding and went to pick it up. Jason? Why's he calling so late? Sliding her finger over the screen to answer, she quickly held it up to her ear, only to yank it back as Jason's voice blasted through. She stared down at her screen until silence returned before holding it back to her ear. "Done?"

"No, but I've calmed down enough to talk." She hummed as she moved back to her bag. "Are you dating Hex?"

Cass blinked, Did Danny tell him? "Yes."

"Okay, okay. So how do you know my informant?" She could hear Jason shuffling things around and the faint clicks of mental against each other. Probably cleaning his guns. 

"Met them first. became friends." She picked up the shirt and another, as she held her phone to her ear with her shoulder, and held it up to compared the two. "Followed them, learned about Hex. Went on date. Been together 3-4 weeks, more if you count hiding feelings."

"Does anyone else know?" Cass thought about it, she hadn't told anyone, neither had Danny, until now, as far as she knew. she shrugged and packed the green shirt. She noticed Danny liked seeing her in their colors.

"No." Silence fell and she went about packing the last of her things, just as she was zipping up her bag, Jason spoke up again.

"They treating ya' good?" She smiled at the very obvious and familiar tone of protectiveness in his voice.

"Yes, very good." She bit back a giggle at the resigned sigh. She fell quiet for moment before whispering. "They are good. Grew up like me, like you. They are hiding but fighting. They are strong."

She could hear Jason's breath hitch. "Okay, I won't ask. I'm happy for you Cass. You think they'll open up more and start interacting with the other Bats and Birds?"

"Yes, they are searching for something. Something will happen but we will be on their side." They were silent for another moment. "They are willing to ask, to trust but need time."

"No pushing, I got it. Bye Cass, have fun on you date!" The line went dead as Cass blushed only for it to deepen as she felt arms wrap around her and fluffy black hair tickle her neck.

"Big brother being over protective?" Cass nod, a shiver ran down her spine as Danny's lips brushed the skin off her shoulder. "You think he'll try to kill me when we get back."

"No. Make you work more." She felt their breath as they let out a groan but giggled as she felt their lips tilt up in a grin.

"It's worth it." Danny spun her around and started leading her into a dance as 'Can You Feel The Love Tonight' began playing softly from her speakers. She let them twirl her around her room before pulling them onto her bed.

"Shouldn't be here." She giggled at their pout. "Brothers, dad, grandpa Alfred and Steph are here. Steph doesn't knock. Dick knocks but will get suspicious if I take too long to answer.

Danny sighed as they flopped back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. "Hood knows, the others will find out eventually."

"True." She flipped over so she hovered over them."Brothers will give chase if they find you here. Damien is stabby, Dick will hunt. Tim... depends on sleep level. Dad will try to lock me away and will hunt. Alfred will be disappointed."

"So they are fine with you being at my house but not me being in your room?" They raised a brow at her in amusement and she huffed before letting her full weight full onto them. "Oompf! Oi! There’s nothing to worry about. I'll just turn invisible until they leave."

Before she could reply her door was flung open and she found herself face planting her bed. "Hey Cass... What're you doing?"

Cass rolled over and sat up to see Steph in her doorway. "Resting."

"Ah-huh... I was gonna ask if you want to watch a movie and hangout. Since you're leaving tomorrow?" Cass watched as Steph looked around her room, poking at random things as she went.

"Ok, be down now." Cass made a show of picking up the things that didn't make it into her bag, Steph made a sound of agreement and left, swinging the door shut behind her. A minute passed before Danny blinked back into visibility.

"You weren't kidding when you said she doest knock." Cass thew a shirt at their face, which they promptly phased through. "OK, ok. I'll see you tomorrow."

Danny pulled her towards them and places a kiss on her forehead before drifting to the window and fading into invisibility with a wave. She shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

*****

Tim stared at the fifth board, then at the other four and groaned as he slumped into his chair. Hex was an unknown but asking around and looking up sightings he found they're working with Red Hood and showed up a few weeks after Daniel Napier. Tim stood and dragged the new board over to the others. It would seem that Hex was just another identity for one Daniel Napier.

"Just who are you? And what do you want?!" Tim ran his hands through his hair in frustration and sighed. Looks like he's going to be more involved than he thought.

[decaying-words]

Lapdog

All chapters Edward Nigma x Reader • 18+ Explicit • 4.4k words TW & tags: Pet play, spit play, oral sex, leg humping AO3 • All my stories

"You are still here", he notes in quasi disbelief, an unreadable expression on his face. He must have been expecting that I had left hours ago, I am sure, and yet I have no explanation to give, not even to myself. Why did I stay here, I wonder, waiting patiently for him to come back home and comfort my raw nerves, like a lover would; yet a lover I am not. Not quite anyway.

Lapdog

Painted hands of a similarly stained clock move painfully slowly, the face glaring at me mockingly. The night is cruel in its loneliness, progressing at an agonizing pace and taunting my uninteresting tasks; collecting the misplaced tools with unnecessary care and caution, gathering the wandering paper notes and organizing them in a neat pile that I know will be thoroughly demolished in an infantile desire to illustrate my incompetence and ignorance, and, finally, removing the comical amount of empty coffee mugs abandoned on various and, at times, frankly bizarre and unexpected places. 

Ever since my last fruitless experiment that ended in a copious string of creative insults resembling a degrading rosary in his ridiculing tone, the Riddler does not let me forge new projects, not until I “find the required brain cells to not waste his most precious time”, as he said. What little frustration and heartache I felt in my demotion died in a strangled whimper under his uninterested gaze, interrupting any protest I might have by demanding to leave the premises immediately. That time, I spent my sleepless night crying heavy tears, fingers grabbing my hair and tugging until my scalp felt sore.

The Riddler is absent tonight, and there is only so much to do once my mediocre tasks done. Pacing around the warehouse, my light footsteps echo in the green inferno; hand crafted machineries engulfed in a toxic hue stare at me with profound limpness, buzzing ominously in the otherwise aphonic place. Crudely painted symbols, equations and riddles adorn the fatigued floors and, more curiously, the impossibly tall walls. My interested gaze following the cryptic logorrhea ornamenting the area, my mind wanders in places I do not belong to. 

I have always wondered what Edward felt during one of these manic episodes, of which I’ve witnessed quite a few times before, always quietly and with empathy, furiously writing incomprehensible thoughts, mysterious threats and other obscure formulas; did it feel like a lifeline at the time, cautiously grounding him when his mind grew foggy ? 

I have never doubted for an instant that underneath the intricate layers of his great intelligence was a gravely sick man; beyond the burning pride and arrogance in his demeanor is hiding the weak ghost of a deeply confused man, a man profoundly afraid of the glacial emptiness of neglect, who at times struggles to recognize even himself. It is cathartic for him, I believe, when he frantically scribbles his thoughts, face perverted in anguish, eyes wide open akin to an animal, skin glistening in sweat; entire body aquiver as if terrified of forgetting who he is beyond the Riddler. Of course, he never notices my balmy gaze on him when I catch a glimpse of his broken soul; nor does he know of my intimate desire to heal him. He would find it inappropriate, I am sure, grotesque even. Foolish girl.

He did catch my gaze tonight, however, sharply dressed up for an important meeting with his peers, one I am not invited to, obviously –why would I be? He looks like a different man entirely when he abandons his filth covered shirt, sweat caked beater and stained cargo pants; his demeanor metamorphosed also, standing straight like a bow, chest swelling proudly, his gloved hands flattening his decorated tie. His tailored suit fits him beautifully, the color matching the green bowler hat that is tucked underneath his arm. 

Edward is handsome, the most handsome man I have ever seen, and while his sunken cheeks and fatigued eyes are the only remainders of his declining mental state, he conceals his insecurities with a renewed, and perhaps slightly fabricated, confidence. The crimson tip of his tongue darts past his lips in the way it always does when he’s lost in his thoughts, and my heart opens and sings inappropriate songs that flush my cheeks a ruby tint. 

This is when his eyes lay on me, cocking an amused brow at my flustered face, silently expecting a flattering comment, though he would never voice it. My mouth opens and closes, carefully picking my words so as to not upset him. You look magnificent, I confess; he seems pleased, a toothy grin spreading on his glowing face. Naively, I wish I could come with him, the insinuation of proximity, emotional or otherwise, public and absurd; the childish dream of being introduced as his assistant – his lover, a little voice in my head whispers.

You know, you remind me of a dog, is what he says; the words are meant to humiliate, a demeaning inflection in his voice, though there is no bite to them. I do not mind them; in fact, I find myself agreeing with him, smiling at him tenderly, face flushed. Edward cocks a surprised brow, as if not expecting this reaction, honest and quasi vulgar . He exhales a chuckle, a subtle twinkle in his eyes, pupils dilating slightly. I recognize this gaze, filled with a still unfamiliar arousal; he looked at me in a similar manner the last time we were intimate, when I lapped his body with a burning hunger until he came undone on my face, eventually fleeing the scene as if ashamed of his own desires. We haven’t talked about this event since, nor the one preceding it, a painful habit of his I’m afraid.

Edward shakes his head, the tip of his tongue licking his chapped lips, thinking of something indecent, I believe. To my great dismay, he will not act on these thoughts, instead putting on his bowler hat and smirking at me, bidding me goodnight, leaving me to my menial tasks.

Hours pass and undesired thoughts pile and overflow in my bored mind, cruel and anxiety inducing. I wonder, wholeheartedly embarrassed, if someone else will collect the fruits of his short-lived desire, if this will mark the end, then, of what did not even have the time to mature in this closed space. Inappropriate jealousy turns to dread and sorrow as I curl in an emotional ball, slumped in the worn-out couch, tears growing in front of my glassy eyes. 

Despite the light tremor of my bottom lip and the cruel knot building in my closed throat, I remain still with the perfect inertia of a corpse, mind turning absolutely blank, drained and hopeless, as if I ceased to exist the moment Edward left; and perhaps it is the case, the grandiose emptiness inside of me begging for him to come back. 

Suddenly, the mechanical noises reverberating in the metallic Hell become inescapable, spiteful and intolerable; the aggressive lights turn caustic, loud and vicious; all I can hear are the agonizing thoughts, the barbarous internal monologue, chest heaving as my breathing turns erratic, broken sobs strangling in my throat, body aquiver with what seems like a fatal panic attack. This place, once perceived as an embracing and loving cocoon morphs grotesquely into a diabolic pit for which I feel only hatred and disgust. My tortured mind screams in horror, heart beating furiously in my chest, and as I feel the crushing weight of time passing, I wonder when will Edward come back, and why did he leave me alone in the first place.

My body jolts in a whimper when I hear the colossal metal doors of the elevator creak, spitting a dusty cloud on the ground as it lands heavily. My weak frame contorts, alert and hopeful, craning my head to stare at the iron cage; I imagine my face being twisted in desperate relief, brow knitted tightly, eyes wide open like a traumatized animal, panting as I emerge laboriously from my panicked state. Edward quirks a brow, a perplexed frown on his closed face, considering me for a minute; he must find me disgraceful, I suppose, viciously gripping the leathery arms of the couch, the flayed expression on my face morphing into one of profound happiness.

Edward reeks of cigarette smoke, a filthy habit that conceals his natural scent. He seems surprised to see me, glancing at the watch on his wrist then at me with a questioning look, yet I offer him no answer. You are still here , he notes in quasi disbelief, an unreadable expression on his face. He must have been expecting that I had left hours ago, I am sure, and yet I have no explanation to give, not even to myself. Why did I stay here, I wonder, waiting patiently for him to come back home and comfort my raw nerves, like a lover would; yet a lover I am not. Not quite anyway.

I swallow meekly, and answer the only way I know how; with a smile, genuine and kind, happiness glowing on my face, while a dumbfounded expression shadows his. Through his round glasses, his eyes contemplate me for an instant, an impossibly green ocean licking the shores of my mind. There is a storm hiding in the horizon, even I can tell, and so I offer him an excuse, sheepishly. I missed you . It is the truth.

His reaction is immediate and what I sense nervous, barking a laugh; not quite cruel, not quite amused, but instead coming from a place of insecurity, disdain and indecision. His expression contorts, pupils dilating enough to obscure the emerald of his irises, and I feel my guts twisting. Carefully putting his bowler hat on the nearest surface, revealing his now slightly sweaty hair, Edward turns his back at me, looking in the distance, gears grinding in his mind. He reaches for his leather gloves next, long fingers fiddling with the pressure buttons, and then stops. He does not remove his gloves. 

“You truly are a dog, aren’t you?”

My entire body shivers, a burning pit gnawing at my stomach with confusing feelings, all of them caustic, perverted and exquisite. I mouth aphonic words of which I ignore the intent. There was a playful element in the inflection of his voice, and when he turns his proud silhouette to face me, there is an indecent smile on his face; one that reeks of contempt and desire. I stare at his grandiose form, lips parted and cheeks flushed from a somewhat familiar hunger; he appreciates seeing me so submissive and needy, I am sure, for he tilts his head on the side and grins wider, the question, unanswered, floating in the air still. “Well?”

There is so much left unsaid, so much left for him to create and define as he sees fit, when I realize that he looks at me expecting an answer that comes quickly, as if foolishly obvious, and yet one that sounds like a permission. “Maybe I am.”

Edward bites his bottom lip frankly, doing a particularly poor job at suppressing his wolfish smile; his gaze holds the power of a storm, breathing heavily through his flared nostrils. When he walks in my direction, each one of his steps sends a spasm to my cunt, shamefully awake and interested, until he stands in front of me, my eyes at the level of his stomach, the memory of the coarse hair hidden under his neatly tucked shirt making me salivate.

“Oh, I know you are. With how easily and quickly you were to drop on your knees, indulging in rather vulgar activities with this obscene tongue of yours.”

His voice is low and dark, the tone dripping with disdain and arousal, his words carefully crafted and picked; he takes great pleasure in seeing me squirm on the couch, muffling soft gasps when his eyes look down on me with a carnal appetite. My expression is one of false shame bordering on inappropriate satisfaction, silently confirming my crude desires. Edward’s voice is husky, shivering with an unconcealed, unmistakable thrill when he asks a question laced with all the neglected lust he once buried deeply in the graveyard of his humanity.

“And what does that make me, then?”

He wants to hear it from me . He wants to feel powerful, wants to dominate me. Taking immense pleasure in my submissive nature, breath hitching even more as his darkened gaze drills burning holes in the back of my skull, a delicate vein on his neck throbbing expectantly. Under his perfectly cut suit pants, I am certain he is hard. I hardly recognize the man who ran away from me after his uncontrolled orgasm; I wonder how much of him is still treading carefully, inexperienced and hesitant, discovering his limits, toying with mines. There is nothing less than adoration in my eyes, hoping to give him the silent reassurance and comfort he seems to seek, heart beating frantically in my chest when I mouth the desired words.

The master.

His shoulders twitch in response, a delicate flush tinting his cheeks, flustered, uncomfortable but positively euphoric . Long seconds pass before he emerges from his enchanted inertia, contemplating the possibilities, evaluating his desires; he looks beautiful in this bemused state, getting acquainted with his most intimate cravings. A part of me wants to guide him, encourage him, reassure him that I will not break easily, though I know how quickly his ego can get bruised; instead, I watch him intently, obediently, lips slightly parted. I believe he needs to be treated with patience and care, more than he needs the control; although it might be wishful thinking from a lovesick deviant.

I follow the gesture of his hand immediately as he snaps his finger and points to the ground. Of course. A dog doesn’t sit on the couch. I cannot help but notice the light tremor in his thighs when he takes my place, spreading his legs wide enough that I can crawl and kneel in between them, hands folded on my lap devotedly. 

The profound exhalation is probably louder than he expected; as if releasing an unknown tension, his body slumps in the couch, contemplating my weaker position. It takes him a few most necessary seconds to collect himself, towering his frame above mine with the glory and poise of a panther. Flexing his still gloved hands a couple of times, visibly debating his next move, he decides to lay his elbows on his thighs, bringing his hands towards and cupping my face, the tender touch eliciting a needy whimper. Under his delicate and short chuckle, I lean my face against the warm leather, embracing his hold with closed eyes, focusing on the complex sensations, all of them delicious and dripping with liquid desire. His thumb draws circles on my cheek, fingers experimenting with the softness of my flesh for a blissful instant in a quasi silence. Elbows securely laying on his thighs, body slightly lurched, his voice is a whisper, a caress against my face.

“Will you be a good dog for me?”

I nod.

“Will you be loyal to me, will you wag your tail for me?”

I nod more frankly, a rush of blood pumping in my system, tinting my cheeks a delicate shade of rose and making my core throb; my hips jerk once, reflexively, as if every single atom constituting my being was yearning for him. Then, said so softly I almost didn’t hear it despite our close proximity. Good girl.

The strangled sob in my throat comes immediately, a built-up feeling that makes my heart ache and swell as I sink my half-lidded eyes in his, desperately searching for approval, squirming on the ground uncomfortably. His thumb brushes against my parted lips gingerly, the intent clear as I open my mouth wider to invite his gloved digit in the warm cavity. A stifled groan shakes in his throat when he caresses my fleshy gums, teasing my crimson appendage. Greedily, I close my mouth around his thumb and suck crudely, bobbing my head along the length of his digit under his mesmerized and lustful gaze. His languorous hums are quasi pornographic, hissing through his teeth when he forcefully removes his thumb in a wet noise, brutally shoving instead his index and middle fingers inside my welcoming mouth.

The sucking noises I make are obscene and vulgar, licking the trembling leather digits, penetrating eagerly and hungrily the space between them with my appendage. His moans are low and choked, a single strand of hair dropping on his forehead, glasses slightly askew, and oh does he look beautiful with his face distorted with a shameful lust that he is just now allowing himself to discover and explore. I feel his fingers thrust inside my throat in wet gagging noises, a foamy pool of saliva accumulating on my pink lips; I do not miss how his hips buck involuntarily, my hands then reaching for his clothed thighs, muscles tense like a bow. When my fingers brush against the outlines of his hardened bulge, Edward removes his fingers from my mouth in a drenched noise and grabs my face with a renewed vigor, the both of us panting in unison, a lewd blend of labored effort and burning arousal.

“You’re so eager, so… hungry . You would take anything from me.”

His voice is low and coarse, akin to a groan, dangerous and feral, and shooting tremors in my thighs, my sex pulsating as I whimper and nod positively, face flushed and beaming. He chuckles nervously, beautifully , looking down at me before working the inside of his mouth with a clear intent, one that makes me sob and weep, opening my mouth wide and sticking my tongue out expectantly, obediently.

Edward spits a big, heavy glob of saliva on my welcoming tongue, watching me with bewildered eyes when I swallow it greedily before opening my mouth again, excitedly presenting him the glistening cushion of my tongue, eager and prepared. He chokes a flustered chuckle, face flushed with quasi embarrassment, his voice trembling and laced with lust. “Incredible.”

His fingers release the soft skin of my face and migrate to my hair, grabbing it enough to feel held in place but not enough to hurt. His flush spreads from his cheeks to his neck giving him an almost bashful look; I see him work his throat again, collecting as much saliva as he can produce, while I pant under him, squirming on the ground like a starving animal. 

When he releases another generous glob of spit that lands perfectly on my tongue, the offering promptly and greedily swallowed, he moans lewdly, emerald eyes clouded by a thick arousal. He pants loudly near my face, his breath smelling of coffee and cigarettes, and I wonder if his lips taste the same, if I will ever be able to know. 

My body squirm uncomfortably on the ground, desperately searching for friction, and perhaps even release. My curious dance does not get lost on him, as he smirks at me with a renewed confidence, fingers grabbing and tugging viciously at my hair, eliciting a mean grunt out of my used throat.

“Are you still hungry, pet? Do you want more?” His voice is a taunting snarl, an amused inflection in his tone, and I whine stupidly, unable to move my head still tightly held in his unforgiving grip. He wants an answer, I understand, cocking his head to the side with an exhausted grin; I believe he too wants, needs release.

“Yes, please. More, I want more.”

My scalp is sore when he releases my hair, looking at his gloved hands with a quasi hypnotic interest when they are unbuckling his belt with trembling fingers, quickly untucking his beautiful, perfect cock; the tip angry red, length flushed in a delicate shade of rose, delicious veins rolling under the flesh. Generous beads of glistening precum drip from the glans in an obscene invitation; one I answer with the crude spectacle of my tongue licking the lips of my already open mouth. Before I can even taste his heavenly flesh, I feel his hand grabbing fistfuls of my hair, preventing any further movement. My frustrated whimpers make him bark a cruel laugh then coo at me, taunting me and mocking me. He is taking great pleasure in my vulgar despair; pumping his cock with his free hand, Edward smiles smugly, humming lowly.

“Beg for it.” It’s almost a murmur with how breathy his voice is, panting loudly as if he were the one begging for release really, and I humor him; of course I do, for I want him with a desire I had never felt before, certain I will die if I don’t immediately swallow his cock.

“Please, please I want you, I need you.” A truth, on more levels than one, but I do not believe he can see all the subtleties of this confession when he presses the back of my head, guiding it towards his hardened sex; or when he cries out in pleasure when I take his entire length down my throat, gagging loudly at the sudden, yet delicious pain. I am quick to work my jaw and bob my head up and down his glory; he tastes just as good as I remember, perhaps cleaner than last time. I do not mind. For a little while, he allows me to swallow his shaft, swirling my tongue over the underside of his cock, passionately sucking at his rosy glans, at the measure of his most indecent moans, loud and primal.

A ferocious groan is all the warning I get before I feel his hands at either side of my head, locking it immobile before his hips start thrusting at a punishing pace, fucking my throat mercilessly. I let him use my fleshy hole wholeheartedly, one hand finding purchase on his clothed thigh, gagging and choking every time the glans hits the back of my throat, foamy spit and precum pooling down my chin; a sight he finds most alluring, I believe, as I feel him throb fiercely.

My other hand snakes down my body, unbuttoning my pants, fingers sinking in my wooly curls until I reach my drenched core and my swollen bud. Edward then snarls and releases my assaulted mouth, maneuvering a booted foot to lay it right between my legs, making me straddle the cold hard leather with his shin pressed against my chest.

“Go on then, dog.”

A broken moan dies on my lips, fingers grabbing at his strong thigh, positioning my clothed cunt perfectly right on his boot, the ankle brushing against my swollen clit. His fist is pumping himself earnestly in a crude and wet noise, his breath labored and quasi pained. There is a pang of hesitation in my chest, one quickly erased when I lift my eyes and find his gaze; there is arousal there, and something akin to tenderness.

And then, I start thrusting.

The friction is electric, his body warmth pressed tightly against my core as my hands clench around his thigh. I feel the rough fabric of his pants rubbing against my cunt as I hump his leg, shattered moans and heavy cries echoing in the warehouse. We maintain eye contact, his face red and glistening with a thin veil of sweat while he’s fucking his hand, panting like a feral beast, chest heaving under his now uncomfortably tight shirt; he is beautiful.

My hips rock more earnestly, his shin rubbing against my throbbing clitoris while the buttons and laces of his leather boot bump and stroke my fluttering cunt; the mixed sensations are otherworldly, experimenting with angles and pace until I find the right combination, the right amount of friction, under his entranced gaze. I do not recognize my voice when I sob stupidly, my cunt clenching and tensing as I near my orgasm, eyes still on his, always on his, never leaving his. He seems to pick up how close I am, for his voice is a fractured murmur. 

“Come for me, and I will reward you.” A promise.

A particular stitch of his boot is what ruins me. Or perhaps is it the way he looks at me, with a carnal adoration when I am fucking his leg. Either way, I feel myself clench, the orgasm devastating, unexpected and exhausting. Every nerve, every muscle tense and burn, stomach flipping painfully as I ride the last waves of this intimate climax.

Pressing my cheek against his knee, almost drooling on the green fabric of pants, breathing heavily, I search his eyes for approval, with the pure desire to become his property, to belong in the most intimate way he can offer.

Edward is nearly there, his fist pumping his angry cock at a frantic pace until all I hear is a strangled sob, a cue I immediately identify as I prop myself on my knees and swallow his cock tenderly, sucking him until I feel him spurt heavy strings of semen down my throat. He cries out, hips bucking as much as he can, fucking the last of his orgasm in my mouth, emptying his seeds in my stomach. He tugs at my hair gently once he feels so overstimulated it begins to hurt, and I remove myself graciously, wiping the remainder of our body fluids with the back of my hand. 

I brace myself for the possibility of him leaving the premises again, leaving me empty and emotionally flayed, but am surprised when he does not. Slumping on the couch, head tilted back against the seat, his hand lays flat on the top of my head, caressing my hair aimlessly. Closing my eyes, I lean against his touch, almost purring, a profound feeling of happiness pooling inside of me. I wonder if dogs feel as elated and content from the simple pleasure of sitting next to their master; I wonder if they too feel an unconditional love, as long as they can lay their heavy head on their master’s lap. In the stillness of the night, life seems perfect as long as I am near him.

Sitting back on the couch and buttoning his pants, Edward looks at me, his face adorning a somewhat torn expression; something between exhaustion, insecurity and doubt. His fingers trace shapeless lines on my face, slipping down my neck where the fingertips stay for a while, a contemplative and pensive look on his face. I offer him a smile, tender and mild, and for a fraction of second I see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. My heart sings. He inspires deeply, collecting himself and working his throat until he finds the right words, ones that come in his naturally detached tone.

“It’s getting really late, I think you should go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I nod, running my fingers through my hair and massaging where my scalp feels sore. When I stand up, my knees burn from the uncomfortable position, my inner thighs feel sticky from my orgasm. Collecting my last belongings, I nod at him politely, bidding him goodnight. His smile is tired but genuine.

Goodnight, dear.

[artist-ellen]

Modern Kayley

Kayley was a difficult redesign in some ways… she turned out a little bit 90s skater girl, more than I maybe intended. But I really wanted layering and huge cargo pants pockets. What do you think?

I think this will be the last modern redesign for a while. In order to get the business stuff rolling and a new larger project on the horizon I will have to post less on social media. I have to sleep sometime unfortunately 🤣🥲

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram.com/ellenartistic or tiktok: @ellenartistic