#these guys were making out in back alleyways

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝘚𝘏𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘌𝘋 𝘈𝘍𝘍𝘌𝘊𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 - 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛 𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌

♥ Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x Reader | Sinister!Mark Grayson x Reader ♥ Warnings: Violence & Gore ♥ a/n: even though i put him in the pairings sinister mark doesn’t actually show up this chapter. if y’all haven’t noticed i’m pretty big on building lore so one scene can take a lot of time lolll. i think it adds to the depth of the story 🤌 → Part Two ←

It was a truly beautiful day; the sun’s rays unbroken by the clouds while a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves. Its serenity, however, was lost on M.Mark. A deep red liquid spattered across his face as the smell of sweat, blood, and fear permeated the alleyway he stood in. He could hear the sickening sound of bones cracking beneath his fists, but all that mattered was the rage—the fire burning deep in his chest. It was a fire that never truly went out, and right now it was fueled entirely by a raw jealousy.

“You really think you’re good enough for her, huh?” Mark’s voice was low, venomous, his words directed at no one in particular. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated with fury. He grabbed one of the men by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The guy's feet dangled, his hands flailing helplessly as Mark’s fingers dug into his windpipe.

The man’s eyes bulged in terror, but Mark barely registered it. He was thinking of you. You—smiling at that asshole, holding his hand, like you didn’t even notice the real love of your life existed at all. Like that Mark was the most important thing in the world.

“I protect people now, you know?” Mark spat, his voice tinged with bitterness, his grip tightening. “I save people. And for what? So some fucking idiot can waltz around thinking he’s good enough to have her?”

The guy gasped, clawing at Mark’s hand, but it was no use. Mark wasn’t even really seeing him anymore. His eyes were focused somewhere else, somewhere far away.

In his mind’s eye he saw you again—laughing with that bastard. His absolute idiot of a counterpart, who didn’t even see you like he did. You were a goddamn star in his world, and yet you gave that moron all your time, all of your love.

“It’s so fucked up,” Mark muttered. “She doesn’t see it. She doesn’t see me the way I see her.” He turned his head, eyes narrowing at the other man huddling against the wall, still alive, still shaking. “She should be with me, y’know? Not him. Damn sure not any of you. Me.”

He shook the man in his grip, his voice rising with every word. “I would do anything to make her happy. You hear me? Anything. But you—you’re just a distraction. You’re nothing. And you’re standing in the way.”

The guy’s breath came in strangled gasps, his hands no longer fighting against Mark’s iron grip. There was nothing he could do to escape. Mark’s voice became a growl.

“I mean,” Mark started again with a scoff, “What makes him so fucking special?”

The guy’s head lolled back, the panic already setting in. Mark could feel the pulse in the guy’s neck, feel him weakening, but he didn’t stop. Not yet. Not when his mind was screaming.

And then, in a desperate, broken voice, the second man spoke, his hands still raised in a futile gesture of surrender.

“Look... man... I don’t know who you’re talking about, but it sounds like she’s not yours. You gotta... you gotta let her go.” His voice cracked as he spoke, but there was something genuine in his tone—something only a human could convey. “Trust me, y-you can’t force someone to love you… You’re just gonna make it worse.”

A light seemed to spark in Mark’s eye, a strange stillness passing through him. His grip loosened slightly, the man’s feet scraping the pavement as he hung there, suspended, but not quite dead yet. Mark’s gaze flicked to the man on the ground, and for a second, he felt a pang of doubt—like maybe... maybe the guy had a point.

“Let her go?” Mark’s voice was quieter now, almost confused. He looked down at the guy, his anger still simmering beneath the surface but momentarily calmed. “What do you mean, let her go? I’d do anything for her. I deserve her. She deservesme. That ugly bastard shouldn’t get to have her.”

The man took a shaky breath, speaking faster now, his voice almost pleading. “I-I get it. I do. But no way this is gonna work man. You’re not gonna win her over by killing people. She sounds like a sweet girl. You’re just gonna end up—”

Mark’s eyes flashed with a new swelling rage and without warning he slammed the man into the wall, the sickening crack of the guy’s spine breaking echoing through the alley. The man's body went limp, falling into a grotesque, twisted heap at Mark’s feet.

Mark stood over him, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling not from exertion but pure emotion. For a moment, silence swallowed everything. The only sound left was the steady beat of his own heart.

The anger was still there. It hadn’t gone away. It was a beast, gnawing at the edges of his mind. But now there was something else too, something that felt... desperate. Something sharp, like a knife lodged deep in his gut.

Mark glanced down at the bodies around him. His fists were still clenched, his body tense with the aftershocks of the destruction. He should feel powerful—he should feel triumphant—but all he could hear were those words.

Let her go. Was there even possible? Could Mark really just let you go?

He looked back at the man he’d just killed, and then over to the other man who was now cowering in the fetal position in the corner. The sight made him grunt a small laugh. As if this weak loser knows anything. The fire inside him flared again. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be letting anything go.

In an instant he was kneeled in front of the man, his head framed by Mark’s hands. “Y’know you really give terrible advice.” With that final remark he brought his hands together, breaking through the man’s skull and plunging through viscera of his brain matter as if it were made of Styrofoam. He didn’t need advice, and definitely not from some low-level career bank robber that just died like an ant beneath his grasp.

No, Mark’s wasn’t even close to done yet. He just had to figure out his next step.

—

You let out a quiet sigh, watching the last of the visitors file out of the exhibit. The small group had been attentive, but now that they were gone, you could finally breathe a little easier. Being an aquarium keeper had its perks—mostly working with the animals, which you loved—but giving talks to crowds had always been a bit… awkward.

You glanced down at your watch, noting the time. Another hour until your shift ended. You could already feel the exhaustion setting in—nothing too bad, just the kind of tired that came with a long day of making sure everything was running smoothly. The fish were fed, the tanks cleaned, and you had managed to get through your spiel without flubbing too many lines.

It was then that you noticed him.

Mark, the one who’d abruptly showed up at your house the night prior, was standing across the room just at the edge of the exhibit. He wasn't a part of the group, which was odd. But what was even stranger was how still he was, how silently he observed everything. His gaze was fixed on the tanks, on the creatures swimming lazily inside, but there was something… unsettling about the way he stood. It was like he was studying something, but not in the way someone would look at fish. His posture was tense, his jaw clenched, and his eyes—his eyes seemed distant, like he was somewhere far beyond the walls of the aquarium.

You swallowed, a knot tightening in your stomach. Something about the way he was staring made you uneasy, but it wasn’t just that. There was a familiarity in the way he stood there, like he’d done this before. Like he'd watched from the shadows before and you just hadn’t noticed.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to approach him or let him be.

This Mark had always been… different. You didn’t know him well, but there were times when his presence felt like a storm cloud, looming just above your head. His moods were unpredictable, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was always simmering beneath the surface. And though you tried not to think about it too much, you'd never been able to forget the times he'd made comments that left you uneasy, or the way his eyes would sometimes linger on you just a little too long.

Today, though… he didn’t seem to notice you standing there, just a few feet away, watching him as he observed the sea life. His expression was almost unreadable—distant, cold—but there was an edge to it, a sharpness that made you hesitate even more.

Finally, curiosity won out. You took a few steps towards him, feeling your heart beat a little faster with each one.

“Mark?” you said softly, trying to catch his attention.

His head snapped up, and for a split second, you swore you saw a flash of something—anger, maybe?—in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly that you weren’t sure if you’d imagined it.

“Hey,” he said, his voice rougher sounding than your Marks. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head, feeling a sudden rush of nerves flood through you. “It’s okay, no interruption. Just finishing up for the day.”

You both stood there for a moment in silence, the only sound coming from the gentle hum of the aquarium filters and the occasional splash from the tanks.

You took a step closer, unsure if you should say anything more. There was something in the air—something you couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just the fact that he was here, now, standing in front of you, but it was the way he seemed to be studying you, his gaze never fully leaving your face. It wasn’t the look of someone admiring the work you did—it was more like someone trying to figure you out, to understand something about you that he couldn’t quite grasp.

“Mark,” you started again, clearing your throat, “are you… okay?”

He didn’t answer right away, just continued staring at you. His lips pressed together in a thin line, the tension in his shoulders unmistakable.

You felt your chest tighten. Something was wrong. You could feel it. He looked almost… unhinged, in a way you didn’t want to imagine.

“I’m fine,” he said, but the words were clipped, forced. His voice sounded flat, like he was trying to convince both you and himself at the same time.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his hands were clenched at his sides, the white-knuckled grip on his fists.

“I didn’t know you liked the aquarium,” you said, trying to break the tension. The words came out more out of instinct than any real desire to make conversation. But it worked—just a little. His gaze shifted back to the tanks.

“I don’t,” he muttered, almost under his breath. “I was just… passing through.”

Passing through an aquarium? You didn’t claim to be a detective, but that answer seemed a little suspicious.

“Right,” you said, trying to smile, though it felt strained. “Well, it’s nice to see you. If you want, I can show you around before my shift ends.”

You tried to sound casual, but your heart was pounding, and you could feel the unease creeping into your voice. Something wasn’t right, and you weren’t sure if it was because of him or because of the strange feeling that had settled in your chest.

He didn’t respond at first, just looked at you with that unreadable expression. The silence stretched between you both, uncomfortable, thick with unspoken words.

Then, he shifted. His eyes flicked to the side, to the tanks, and his lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smirk. He opened his mouth to speak but then quickly snapped it shut, the earpiece buzzing in his head, "This isn't a holiday. You've got half the content to save." His expression quickly soured, the irritation evident on his face.

“Maybe another time,” he grumbled. “I’ve got somewhere I need to be...”

And just like that, as quickly as he’d appeared, he turned and started to walk away, disappearing into the shadows of the aquarium.

You stood there for a long moment, still feeling the weight of his gaze on you, even though he was no longer there.

And for some reason, you loved the feeling it gave you. You hadn't felt seen like that by Mark in longer than you could remember, and you relished the high it gave you.

→ Part Four ←

[sungbeam]

BIRDS OF PREY — one

nonidol!kim hongjoong x f!reader

living in gray areas of your city, out of the way of gangs and mafia territories, could only keep you safe for so long. it was only a matter of time before you began running into problems, or rather, problems began running into you.

▷ genre, warnings. nc-17, strangers 2 lovers, slow burn, mafia au, angst?, swearing, action, explosion + mentions of a bomb/dynamite, mentions of death + murder, allusions to violence, mentions of sickness, mentions of alcohol

▷ word count. 5.1k

a/n: ahh here we go!! :'))

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CHAPTER ONE: THE WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING

“SIR, THEY'RE PLANNING TO KILL YOU,” were words you never expected to leave your mouth tonight, or ever, in fact. 

The nervous stammer in your voice and in your heartbeat kicked up when the man perched on the stool in front of you tilted violently toward the floor. “Kill—me? No,” he slurred, hand slapping against the countertop to catch himself. 

It hardly worked, and your breath hitched in your throat as you were forced to set your tray on the bar to physically catch him. You suppressed the urge to glance over in the direction of the group of men in the back corner of the bar you worked at, all of whom were most definitely watching your interaction with their target now. If you weren't careful, you were going to become their next target. But you couldn't let them murder this man, not when you had overheard them admit to it verbatim. 

The least you could do was let this guy get a headstart. 

“Sir,” you said through gritted teeth as you set him upright. “Please listen to me—”

“They can't kiiiiiill me,” he giggled, swaying. He bit his lip, placing his index finger against his grinning mouth like he was telling you to be quiet. 

It didn't matter how handsome you thought this guy was ten minutes ago; he was about to get his ass beat. Not just beat—put down, was the better phrase. Exterminated, executed, kaput. 

“You need to run,” you hissed. A curse tumbled out of your mouth as you saw the group of men all begin to stand up out of your periphery. “Please! I don't need this on my conscience, for fuck's sake. I just need to get through college, man.”

For a second, you thought you saw his eyes flash, but it must have been a trick of the dim lighting. There was no way using logic would work on a drunk man. His dark bangs hung in his eyes now as he let his head duck toward his chest like he was about to fall asleep. “Okaaay, just gimme two—twooo seconds.”

“One, two—two seconds are up,” you said, tugging him off the stool and half dragging him toward the back door. “I'm going to take you through the staff entrance and you're going to run, okay?” 

Oh, you were fucked. Cooked. Dead as the rat you saw lying in the gutter on your way over here earlier. 

“You're going to run, and not look back,” you continued to ramble to him as you shouldered your way through the employee entrance. You garnered plenty of strange glances from your coworkers who were in the back kitchen and storeroom, but what their opinions were didn't matter to you right now. Plus, they'd seen weirder shit. “The entrance to the metro is two blocks away on Third. You're probably not even listening to me, but—”

You broke through the back entrance and into the chilly evening. Your breath came out in sharp, visible puffs of air, and the alleyway from the looks of it seemed clear. You were still on the clock technically, so leaving wasn't an option. This was the farthest you could go. 

You grappled the guy by his shoulders again. “Hey,” you said, patting his cheeks. “Look alive, man. You need to run and I need to make sure my face doesn't get bashed in. Good luck.”

There it was again. His expression seemed to shudder like a glitch—from drunk as Hell, to stone cold sober, then back to that dazed inebriation. It was unnerving; a chill crawled down your spine, but you thought perhaps the sleep deprivation was slowly catching up to you. 

That had to be it. 

“Byeee!” the man sang as he skipped down the alleyway, swaying from side to side as he did. 

Your heart beat was still lodged in your throat, even after he was out of sight. Had you just saved the guy or doomed him further? You weren't sure, but you deluded yourself into thinking it was the former as you returned to your shift and responsibilities. 

It wasn't easy, though. 

As any normal person would proceed after the events you experienced tonight, you didn't proceed. In fact, you'd almost dropped about a dozen glasses, crashed into two coworkers, spilled a Bloody Mary, and sliced your hand while cutting up a lime wedge and subsequently getting lime juice in the cut. Your coworkers thought you'd gone crazy; you were never this clumsy. 

When they practically shoved you out the door an hour earlier than usual with promises to cover you, you had nothing else to do but go home. You couldn't help that your mind was plagued by the consequences of your actions. Was there an easier way to handle tonight's catastrophe? One that would have ensured the guy got out of this safe and sound?

You weren't sure. 

You held the side of your head as you yawned and walked down the street in the direction of the metro entrance on Third Street. Perhaps leaving early tonight was a good thing. You did have that one assignment you needed to finish up before…

The thought dissipated from your head like smoke in the night. 

When you turned the corner, the metro entrance just across the road, you were met instead by flashing red and blue lights. There was a police barricade set up consisting of crisscrossing yellow tape and white and blue cruisers. Some civilians like yourself lingered to catch a glimpse of whatever had transpired, and for a pregnant moment, you thought this was the scene of the crime—the man from before… you'd failed. 

An anchor of grief and distress sank in your gut. This… oh, fuck. This was all your fault. If you had handled it better, maybe sheltered him in the backroom instead—

But as you craned your neck to see past the officers, you realized that it wasn't one dead man lying on the pavement… It was five. In fact, you recognized their faces as the group of men who said they were going to be killing another man tonight. Instead, they were the ones who were dead. 

What in all Hell happened here?

The memory of the lone man's eyes shuddered in the forefront of your mind. For a second, you humored the thought that he'd been pretending to be drunk off his face. There was no way, right?

Had he—had he even smelled like alcohol? A wave of cold realization washed over you. Maybe you'd thought it was because he was just a super lightweight drinker. 

No. No, it wasn't possible for one man to take on five of them. Not when all those men who currently laid dead on the street were all at least double the size of him. The man hadn't been scrawny, just lean, but he was no heavyweight champion either. 

“Miss?” An officer approached you at the barricade. “We'd like to ask you to please return home. It's not safe here.”

You swallowed. “Y—yes, of course,” you stammered, already backing away. You fisted your shaky hands in the pockets of your coat as you resumed your trek to the metro station. 

But as you were about to descend the stairs into the station below, your eyes caught movement far across the street. Your mouth went dry. 

There, leaning against the mouth of the alleyway a safe distance away from the crime scene, was the man you'd ferried out the back entrance of the bar. He looked nowhere near drunk with his eyes narrowed like twin daggers as he watched the EMTs shuttle the corpses into the back of the ambulance. 

He must have felt your gaze on him then, because he turned his head to meet your eyes. He lifted a single finger up to his lips like earlier tonight—shh. When you blinked, he was gone, as if he hadn't been there at all. 

You sprinted home after that, glancing over your shoulder and jumping at shadows too many times to count. 

You didn't sleep well for three nights straight. After the third night, you trudged out of your room the next morning looking like you'd risen straight out of a corpse drawer at the morgue. 

“Sheesh, Yn. You look like a fucking ghost, girl.” 

You blinked from the bright lights as you slid onto the stool at the counter. “I wish I was a fucking ghost,” you muttered without thinking. Maybe then you wouldn't have to live in fear of that night. “Sorry, that wasn't worded right.”

Your roommate and good friend since freshman year of high school, Shin Ryujin, frowned at you as she shook her iced coffee in the aluminum drink shaker. “Babe, do you need a girl's night? You haven't been yourself since your last shift at work.”

Oh, right. And there was that thing where you were avoiding the bar and pretending to have a severely infectious case of Hand, Foot, Mouth Disease. You feared seeing that man again, whoever he was. 

You shook your head. “I dunno, Ryu. I think I'm just scaring myself for no reason.”

“It's about that thing that happened near work, right? I thought you said you weren't there when it happened.”

That was technically right. You hadn't seen those men get killed, but you'd seen the bloody aftermath of that ballroom dance. It was enough to make bile creep up your throat again. “Yeah… I guess it's just grated on me the wrong way.”

For the most part, you attended school the same. You were currently registered with one of the city's community colleges, taking a mixture of classes online and in-person. Today, you somehow got yourself looking slightly more alive to attend one of your in-person classes. You decided, as you took the forty-five bus to class, that you would go back to work by the end of the week. A severe case of HFMD could be healed by then, right? You were sure your boss wouldn't know the difference, just as long as you were no longer contagious. 

Bars weren't usually known for their top notch working conditions and treatment anyway. 

When the bus's automated audio system announced your stop as the upcoming one, you reached over toward the window to gently tug the yellow cord down. 

Like second nature, you called out a thank you to the bus driver as you hopped off the bus at your stop. 

The main campus of your community college was located close to your apartment, and not quite in the heart of downtown. Where you were wasn't exactly the most affluent area either, but you got by to the point of contentment most days. Your class today was held in one of the buildings close to the college library, and you swiftly made your way there. 

When you arrived, you sought out a seat that had its own area with a safe distance between you and everyone else. Sometimes it was just easier to keep your head down and focus on academics, rather than making friends or finding allies. 

With the clock striking down to one minute until class began, you tugged your earbuds out to stash them in your backpack, only to catch the tail end of something your peers were discussing a few seats away. 

“—saying it was the Captain.”

“The Captain? As in… that Captain? But this isn't even his territory; why is he here?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Captain. Why did that sound familiar? 

Your instructor arrived to start off the class, but instead of pulling up the reading on your laptop, you instead searched up the keywords “captain” and the name of your city. The first things that popped up from the search were dozens of headlines:

LEADER OF ATEEZ SEEN OUTSIDE TERRITORY; POSSIBLE TERRITORY DISPUTE?

SAFETY CONCERNS OVER FIVE MEN DEAD ON FIFTH. COULD BE HEIGHTENED GANG ACTIVITY. 

WHO IS THE CAPTAIN OF ATEEZ & THE 'PIRATE KING’?—

You swiftly shut that tab down. That was enough ghost stories for the day. You didn't need anything else making your head spin other than what happened the other night. And if this Captain character had anything to do with that man and the five killings…

No, you definitely wanted nothing to do with all of this. 

You had long since known that your city was run by a network of mafias. They were not all in league with each other—you were just lucky to have been born in an era where there were no longer constant turf wars taking place. You were also fortunate to have grown up in one of the gray area communities where mafias and gangs agreed to treaties and armistices. No one was allowed to lay claim to a gray area; there was a significance to having middle grounds like them, after all. 

Of course, there would always be some bozo who wanted to expand his group's territory, and the first thought was always a gray area. Most of the time, those efforts were shut down by the other gangs. 

Most of the time. 

The mafia family Ateez was a new name to you. They had risen about three years ago, a dark horse amongst all the rest. They were one of the few, if not the only family you knew who climbed the ranks from absolutely nothing. They had built theirs from scratch; it wasn't inherited. 

That was all you cared to find out about them, anyway. Most of the places you traveled to around the city were gray areas, and so the thought of interacting with any of the big five families never crossed your mind. 

At least, until now. With the news of Ateez being spotted in a gray area, that could mean they had grown to seek out a territory expansion. And turf wars didn't just cost material resources—they cost blood and manpower. 

You found yourself at the bank two days later. The line was long, but your patience was infinite. Your boss insisted you wait one more day before coming back in because she feared another food administration scandal, so you continued to keep your distance. With all the shit cropping up on the news though, you thought it best to have some physical funds on you in case you and Ryujin had to make a mad dash for the next city over. 

You sighed under your breath as you shifted up in the long, taped-off line. A podcast played in your ears as you waited, your eyes wandering from potted plants, to the flat ceiling lined in fluorescent lighting panels, to people's faces, to service dogs on leashes, to—wait a minute. 

Your eyes snagged onto someone's face. He was seated in the waiting area just slightly to your two o'clock. You thought you recognized him, but when you considered him for a moment longer, you snapped out of it—it was weird and rude to stare. For a moment, he almost looked like that drunk (or undrunk) man from several nights ago. 

However, his hair wasn't that light brown shade before, and you couldn't quite see his face with those sunglasses on… nevermind.

A shiver crawled down your spine, and you shifted your eyes toward something else. 

At last, when it was your turn to finally see a teller, you made your way to the open window. The person seated behind it was young and handsome, with dark brown hair curled around the nape of his neck, a red-pinkish birthmark at the corner of his left eye, and a pair of thin-wire frames perched upon his nose. The little, plastic name card on his desk read Yeosang K. 

He smiled cordially at you. “Hello, how may I help you today?”

“Hi,” you chirped. “I was wondering if I could make a withdrawal?”

“Of course, may I have your name and the last four digits of your IDN?”

The remainder of the transaction carried over smoothly, and you thanked Yeosang as you tucked the packet of emergency cash into the safety of your backpack. You could hear Yeosang calling for the next client to step forward while you walked away toward the exit, your eyes not watching where you were going when your jacket sleeve got caught in your bag’s zipper. 

“Agh—I’m so…” The words jammed in your throat when you saw a flash of red lights. You barely glanced up at the person you bumped into. “Sorry about that.”

“Just watch where you're going,” they bit out and continued on their way. 

Sheesh. You threw a disgruntled look back at the person, noting the hood thrown over their head, their tense form—you were sure their backpack was left open for some reason and you would have told them it wasn't zipped if they hadn't been so terse with you. 

With a huff, you resumed your walk back to the front door, stopping when you remembered you needed to grab a form from the counter for Ryujin. 

“Shit,” you grumbled. The forms were back in the same direction that guy walked toward. 

But as you made your way over to the far side of the room where the spare forms were, you noted that he had disappeared. Your head went on a swivel, frowning. Surely he couldn't have left the room so fast…?

Whatever. You pursed your lips as you skimmed through the forms to find the right one. All this red tape just to file for a new checking account. The new policies were beginning to become quite the nuisance—

Thump. 

The toe of your shoe met something solid beneath the table as you shifted over to look at the forms at the far end. You frowned, peering beneath to see if it was just the table leg or the wall or… a backpack?

It was black and unassuming, left wide open, and—

You sucked in a breath and stumbled back from it. That… was that what you thought it was? You'd seen bright red, flashing numbers like a countdown on the screen; a flurry of four colored wires, and silver duct tape. 

You shouldn't be snooping, but it was all right in front of you. 

Your heartbeat drummed in your ears like a war cry as you carefully looked back inside the bag opening, and you confirmed that it was, in fact, a bomb. 

At least, it appeared to be one. 

You shot upright and spun around in frantic motions, trying to find a security guard or anyone to come help you or maybe even just tell you that you'd gone crazy. There, by the door!

As you speed-walked back over to the tall security guard stationed by the exit, you chanted nervously in your head: You shouldn't have snooped, you shouldn't have snooped, you shouldn't have snooped! 

“Uhm, excuse me?” 

The man hummed, eyebrows arching in question. 

“I—I think there's an explosive in that backpack.” Great, so you really did sound insane. 

For some reason, however, he didn't belittle you or try to convince you that you might have been wrong. His expression seemed to steel over in concern, and he followed you back over to where the backpack was left. You stood a few steps behind him as he squatted down and carefully inspected the outside, before looking inside. 

You saw him stiffen, the thought flying to your head: RUN RUN RUN!

With one hand continuing to hold the bag still, the guard used his other to turn the walkie talkie attached to his right shoulder strap. He brought the speaker to his mouth and spoke into it lowly, “We've got a code 6036. Get everyone out of the building now.”

Somebody clicked back on the other side. “Copy that, Mingi. You know what to do.”

From one of the doors behind the teller booths, more security guards filed into the room to calmly urge people toward the exit doors. A wave of confusion washed over the entire building, but you were attempting to help get everyone toward the exit door with a nervous smile plastered on your face. 

“Please, ma'am, I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about!” Except it definitely was something to be concerned about. Your heart palpitated so violently in your chest, you thought it could burst out onto the linoleum floor at any moment now. 

Within five minutes, you and the guards managed to chorale everyone into the parking lot a safe distance from the bank and the bomb. You stood nervously in the center of the group, teeth gnawing on the inside of your cheek, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you tried not to pace. 

“Everyone, we understand that this is confusing at the moment,” said one guard who must have been the team leader. “But we have the authorities on the way, and this will only take a few moments. Thank you for your patience.”

More murmurs erupted around you. What were you supposed to say? That there was homemade-fucking-dynamite beneath the mortgage forms? Someone really didn't like this place. 

But even so, it was odd to see something like this happen to a gray area bank. It was a relatively small branch, too, nothing corporate. 

You hadn't seen the timer on the bomb, only the flickering numbers, so you hadn't a clue what time it was at now. You sucked in a breath of confidence and marched over to the guard, Mingi, from earlier. He was standing beside another security guard, a man slightly taller than himself, as the two spoke in grave, hushed tones. 

“Excuse me? Hi, I'm the girl from earlier,” you said as you saw recognition flash in his eyes. 

He nodded, the corner of his lips surging upward. “Yeah, I remember. Something I can help you with?”

“Well, actually, I was wondering if you saw how much time there was left on the countdown.”

Mingi's brows furrowed together, a frown settling on his mouth. “It was probably about eight or so minutes. Definitely enough for whoever set it down to get away from here.”

Ah, that made sense. 

His friend beside him gestured toward you. Now that you thought about it, his face seemed familiar to you… where had you seen him before? “Did you happen to see who the backpack belonged to?”

“I did. They were, uhm, they were in a dark colored hoodie? Their stature was shorter than you guys, but they seemed very tense.” You frowned. “I didn't see their face though, sorry.”

The guard sent you a kind smile. “No worries. That's more than we could've asked for. When the time comes, we'll be able to comb through the security footage and—”

“EVERYBODY, GET DOWN! IT'S GONNA BLOW!”

Your eyes widened—what?—and even before your brain could catch up with you, both of the men you stood with shoved you behind them to shield you from the explosion. 

You tucked your face into your arms and turned away, as a deafening BOOM erupted behind you. 

There was a ringing in your ears, the air all around you hot and stifling. Cries and sirens filled the afternoon silence. When you pulled your face up and out of your arms, you saw what used to be the bank now a massive kindling for its own fire. 

You took in the scene with horror on your face, glass and debris scattered across the ground, people helping other people to their feet, and your ears kept ringing and ringing. 

Vaguely, you heard someone call out your name, but your eyes were glued to the scene of the once standing building before you. 

Wasn't there more time on the countdown? Who could've done this?

“Yn—are—okay?” Was that voice real? “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, patting away the arm that was trying to get your attention. You stared at the ground for a long time, trying to get your bearings. 

Everything kept ringing and ringing and—

You glanced up then, swallowing roughly. Your eyes just so happened to go across the lot to where a man stood with one of the security guards. You recognized him, both of them. The man was the one you thought was the undrunk one from earlier this week, and the security guard was who calmed everyone down outside. 

They both looked over toward you when they felt your gaze, and the former hung his sunglasses on the collar of his shirt. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. It was the man from several nights ago. You stumbled back as if you'd seen a ghost, but he merely inclined his chin to you with a gleam of respect in his eyes. 

You didn't know what that meant—didn’t care what that meant. You just wanted to go the fuck home. 

There were familiar faces in the crowd tonight as you tied your waist apron on and picked up a serving tray. It made your fingers shake as you pasted a customer service smile on your face to start off the night. It was the day after the bomb at the bank went off, and yet, here you were a little over twenty-four hours later. 

The small television in the corner of the bar played a news broadcast that recapped the events from yesterday afternoon, reporting that the authorities still had no clues as to who could have planted the bomb inside. You had declined an interview from reporters yesterday, having gotten out of there as soon as the paramedics let you leave. 

But as you scanned the barroom, you noticed the two security guards from yesterday, Mingi and his other tall friend, seated at one of the tables in the back corner. Your brows furrowed—it could have just been a coincidence that they ended up in a bar that just so happened to be your place of work. 

You were about to head over to them to see how they were when one of your coworkers stopped you. 

“Hey, uhm, Boss wants to see you in her office,” he said to you. 

You blinked in surprise. “Oh. Did she say what for?”

He shook his head. “No, but I don't think it's anything bad. Good to have you back though, Yn.”

“Thanks, man,” you said, tucking your serving tray under your arm to head back through the service door to the back hallways. You were sure this had to be about you missing work for the past week. It was probably just some regulation things, maybe paperwork? 

When you reached your manager's office, you gave the wooden surface a generous knock so she could hear it over the volume in the main room. You heard a muffled “come in” and paused. You were pretty sure that was not your manager's voice, but nonetheless, you let yourself in. 

You froze in the doorway. Who you found behind the desk was definitely not your manager. 

It was the man who had been haunting you seated at the desk, his hair a light brown and styled neatly, and he wore a dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. You were beginning to realize how many subtle touches of luxury he boasted, from his wristwatch to the chain on his collarbones and the diamond studs winking at you from his earlobes. 

He arched a brow at you, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Yn? Please, take a seat.”

Oh no. Did he own this place? Was he a shareholder? Were you about to get chopped?

You gulped, closing the door behind you as you settled into the seat. “You're the man from—”

“I am,” he confirmed with a nod. There was a slight upward turn of his lips. “You have a knack for being in the right place at the right time, Yn.”

“More like the wrong place and the wrong time,” you muttered. “You were at the bank yesterday.”

“That I was.”

“Why—why are you here?”

He smiled then. “Ah, well, if you would afford me just a moment, I'll explain that to you. My name is Kim Hongjoong, but I don't expect you to know who I am. Just know that your boss owes me, which is why I'm able to meet with you here.”

Your boss owed him? There were so many questions going through your head at the moment. “Alright…” He was right though; you didn't recognize his name. 

“You've saved my life twice now.”

You straightened. 

His knuckles knocked against the desk as he threw one leg over the other and leaned back in the office chair. “And two life debts isn't something I can just forget about.”

Your eyes shuttered, then widened. “Uhm, respectfully sir, you could definitely just forget about it. I don't need anything from you.” You didn't want any more problems. No, you didn't need any more problems. If being connected to this man in any way meant you had to deal with what you had this past week, then you didn't want any part of it. 

“I thought you might say that, and unfortunately, the honor code I live by makes it impossible for me to simply forget. However, if you do come up with something I can do for you, then you can find me here.” Hongjoong took something out of the top desk drawer and slid it across the table to you. 

Curious, you reached forward to inspect it. It was a standard sized business card, but with what looked like a compass insignia embossed in the thick cardstock. Along with Hongjoong's name and contact information, there was also an address leading to someplace called the Shipwreck. 

Who was this guy?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stand up. You watched him round the desk to lean against the side closest to you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. “Thank you for saving my life, Yn.”

Flustered, you stammered out, “Oh, uh, it was nothing really. I actually thought I'd gotten you killed that night.” Not to mention that he definitely wasn't even drunk. What did he mean you'd saved his life?

You shoved the business card into the back pocket of your jeans and stood up. “If that's all, I'm on the clock.”

“By all means,” he said, raising his palms and gesturing to the door. 

With nothing else left to say, you slipped out of the room and back down the hall with your serving tray. You shook your head as you entered the service floor again. What an odd week. 

Your head darted in the direction Mingi and his friend had been seated, but where they were sat a new group of people. A frown flitted across your face. You must have missed them. 

a/n: please remember to reblog if you enjoyed!

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[crimsonbowphight]

Actually ima make Illumina x Reader. Headcanon will be later or tmr…btw this is the first time i make fic in Tumblr but i mostly write fic in ReadAWrite. Sucks at grammar btw

(NOTE: this story might be boring and out of character for a few of the characters in this story.)

-sammy ^^

「Special Lotus」

—————————————————————————

Well. Just a regular day in PHIGHTING! Universe. You have been stayed in this universe for like..years (?) now. You lay down on your bed not knowing what to do today because you haven’t stepped out of your house until now so you decided to go out for a walk. Staying in your home for the whole day is NOT a good idea.

At the crossroad

You walked in the crossroad. Greetings some people you know. Such as Boombox,Sword…etc. Well everything went great nothing bad happens a little bit. You decided to enter Slingshot’s Café for something that could relaxes your stomach a little bit.

In the café

Of course! Every-time someone enter the cafe there must be a waiter greets you at the doorway. When you entered the cafe a familiar greetings was heard from Vinestaff. You greets her back as usual! You then take a seat where it is nearby the window. Slingshot then walk to the table you’re sitting in with a clipboard in his hand ready to take an order from you.

“Hey [Y/N]! Didn’t see you in days. Are you okay?” -Slingshot

“Ah hi. Thank you for worrying! And yes i’m alright.”

“Wonderful! What can i get for you today?” -Slingshot

“Hm..can i have a cup of coffee and maybe a slice of cake? Any flavor.”

“..of course coffee. You order that everytime you enter my cafe.” -Slingshot

“Hey!”

You both just giggled off as usual. He’s your bestfriend after all! Theres nothing bad talking to a guy like him. He is very friendly after all. Well a few minutes later Slingshot came back to your table with a cup of coffee and a slice of cake that is strawberry flavored. Oh dear Illumina it’s one of your favorite flavors! Slingshot just KNOWS everything about you but you thanked him and go ahead finishing the morning-meals. After you finished the food,Paying for the food. You gave Slingshot and Vinestaff a wave but where is Shuriken? That question wander in your head for a long time now but he might go wash the dishes. Oh speaking of washing the dishes..Shuriken hates doing it very much but thats not the thing we should focus right now.

At the outside of the Cafe

You began to make your way back to your home but..why it’s feeling weird now? While you’re walking in the alleyway you started to feel dizzy. It’s unusual because you’re very healthy you barely get any fever or a headache. This feels different. As you keep walking. You can’t help but you can’t walk straight now. You began to bump into the wall,to the trash bin,to the pipe there or other things there. Your vision is very blurry and you barely can see things right now. You have no choice but you started to give up on walking and finally. Your body left unconscious on the ground.

…….

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8…

9…….

10……….

11……………

12.

You jolted up from the unconscious looking around where you are..wait where am i?

“Huh..? Where in the heck am i..”

The room is left with silence. It is decorated with fancy stuff or modern one. The wall was painted blue..nice room we have here but right now you are currently sitting on a mysterious bed and right beside the bed have a window there with it curtains opened. Revealing the time to be evening.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity but anyways. You stood up from the bed and make your way to the door and opened it. Revealing a hallway that has a very long red carpet on the floor. You frowned in confusion but it doesn’t last too long. You decided to explore around this mysterious place

You were walking around until you stepped into the living room. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Oh my SFOTH. It’s the 7 deities. They are standing in the middle of the room like they are planning something until one of them looks at you.

“Oh. They’re awake now! Guys greets them!”

Icedagger spoke in a soft tone. Speaking of him. You stood there observing Icedagger for a few seconds. Oh dear why is he so short for a deities? It’s quite shocking but you probably see the rumors about PHIGHTING! Deities through some books..right? But not for so long the other deities turned their head to where you standing at right now. Your heart almost beats out of your chest in panicking.

“Hey hey! Don’t panic! We won’t hurt you! -Icedagger

“Oh..oh uh alright..but where am i right now?”

“Hm? You’re currently at ‘our’ house right now. Aka the deities house.” -icedagger

Damn. You couldn’t believe your eyes. You’re really in the deities house or mansion whatever it is…you nodded in understanding. You couldn’t help but notice one of the deities staring at you. None other than Illumina well it’s kinda weir-

“If you’re wondering. That’s Illumina there he’s normally quiet like this. I can say that he’s NOT interested in talking but probably perfer listening instead.”

-Firebrand (THIS IS ONE OF MY HEADCANON ABOUT ILLUMINA IM SORRY)

“Hmm..yeah he’s indeed like to stay quiet but also a staring person.”

-Windforce

“You should be used to his staring behavior.”

-Venomshank

“It’s..alright nothing wrong anyways!”

“…thats good. We’ll be doing our own stuff now so take your time exploring around this place! Just don’t destroy our stuff though…oh and what’s your name?”

-Venomshank

“My name is [Y/N]”

“…pretty name you have there. Farewell. We’ll see you around.”

-Venomshank

Not for so long the other deities wander around the house to go do their own things. Probably heading back to their own temples. But in the living room. There is only you and Illumina left in the room. He still remains staring at you not breaking his eye contact at you even a little bit.

“…i see. You’re [Y/N]…right?”

-Illumina

Oh my gosh. That nearly caused you a heart attack but you still remains some concious.

“Huh? Ah yes that’s right…sir…uh Illumina..?”

“…no just call me sweetheart.”

-Illumina

“..a what.”

You stood there don’t know what to say. Completely being in silence right now but you decided to start an excuses due to the redness of your face.

“I..uhhh wa-actually i gotta go!”

You quickly rushed back to your room out of embarrassment. How could a deity say that to a mortal?! But you know. he won’t give up on you.

—————————————————————————

TBC. (1/?)

—————————————————————————

IM GIGGLGING KICKING MY FEET RN BECAUSE I NEVER WROTE A FIC ABOUT CANON X READERS ESPECIALLY EITH MY FAVORITE CHARACTER THIS STORY IS SO RANDOM OMFMGGMMGMG but it’s sucks anyways. Look at the grammar and how i wrote. Bye ima go write a headcanon for this guy.

[wishchip106]

if season 2 of xmen 97 doesn’t show more of them WHATS THE POINT

i need every piece of content where they’re in haifa i’m going to read all the comics

just gonna have to ignore the fact charles was dating gabrielle at that point

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Chapter 1: First encounter.

Next - (chapter list) / (AO3 ver)

Jack Desmond was running under the heavy rain with a bag over his head, as he had given his umbrella to an old lady on his way home. It was an act of generosity that wasn't out of place in the whimsical place of cartoons.

He almost missed the dark shape sprawled out in an alleyway. Nothing too unusual, maybe some ne'er-do-wells or a goofy character caught in some mishap, but somehow, his gut told him that it felt different. Disturbingly out of place.

Faintly, his nose picked up on a worrying scent. Hesitant yet worried, he trudges closer, his shoes being tainted with red as he knelt down beside the dark figure. “Hey, buddy, you alright?” he called out, voice full of concern. His fingers tentatively touched the man’s shoulder.

Jack gasped, pulling his hand back quickly. His fingers were smeared with something deeply red and thick. His brain slowly processes what he's seeing, unbelieving. With the scent being washed down by the heavy rain, he pulls his palm closer to his nose to take a sniff.

His spine crawls and he jolts up, confused eyes shaking yet staying transfixed on the injured person as he stumbles backwards. He takes a closer look at the man's face- or, just his entire self for that matter. Staring back at him was a foreign face twisted into a harsh scowl, unconscious. Deep scars crisscrossed his face, making him look rather villainous.

This guy wasn’t a Toon. The thick dark coat, those scars- the blood. This man was from another Genre, one that didn’t belong in their streets of lighthearted fun.

His eyes caught sight of the gun tucked into the man’s coat, confirming Jack’s fears.

He's a Grim… perhaps a Guktav member?

The Guktav is one of the biggest and most influential criminal syndicates in the Grim genre where this gloomy-looking person probably came from. These men were dangerous, he'd better make a run for it just in case the assailant of this scene was still nearby.

Unsettled and too riddled with uncertainty and fear, he'd planned to just mind his own business and skedaddle… but his foot stayed planted where they stood, eyes transfixed on the wounded Grim man.

The more he stared, the more the puddle of blood spread.

The rain made the blood travel to the soles of his shoes quicker, and Jack’s stomach churned. He’d never seen anything like this before, not in this city. Life here has always been peaceful and non-life threatening despite the slapstick gags of silly violence people were hit with, but this? This wasn’t funny. This sight made his innards twist.

Jack glanced down at his palms, still stained with blood. The rain hadn’t washed it away, no matter how hard it came down. Starting to get a bit dizzy, he slowly starts to walk away.

Authorities… He should go call the authorities.

…

His feet stops not too far away, and the rain comes down harder than before.

"…Oooh-! Applesticks!" Jack curses, turning back with a huff and stomping back towards the man. “This is a bad idea.” He muttered to himself, shaking his head as he bent down again-

Jack's heart nearly leapt out of his chest when the man's gruff hands grabbed unto his arms and pulled him down, bloodshot eyes glaring straight at him. Jack's legs felt weak, his knees buckling and harshly hitting the bloody floor, terrified as the man's stare told him all he needed to know.

Do anything bad and he'd kill him.

The man's eyelids twitched, pupils rolling back. His large body collapsed on top of the smaller man, making Jack stutter as he fell on his bum, unable to balance himself. Jack lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, staring at the unconscious man lying limp on his stomach, staining Jack's suit with his blood.

Jack Desmond swallows hard, his heart wavering. Should he really do this?

[This chapter has been edited.] _

Next - (chapter list)

[promisingyounglady]

watermelons. | JS x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.

PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.

He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.

And by the girls, he means your tits.

Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.

And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.

The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.

“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.

“Back off, Bradshaw”

And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.

“Hi sweetheart”

It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.

“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.

“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.

And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.

All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.

That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.

“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.

He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.

“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.

You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”

Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.

You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.

“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.

Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.

“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.

The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.

The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.

Jake Seresin was a tits guy.

So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.

You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.

“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”

He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.

“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.

you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.

“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.

You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.

“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3

-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.

Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.

The Brain Injury Recovery Center.

It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.

So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.

Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…

There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.

“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.

Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.

Can’t let Eddie see him like this…

He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.

For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.

It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.

Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.

As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.

Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.

He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.

Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.

Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…

His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.

But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.

And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.

It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.

Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.

Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…

The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.

It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.

Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.

He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.

Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.

Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.

To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.

Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.

“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.

He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.

“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.

“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.

“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”

The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”

Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”

She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”

“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”

He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.

“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.

“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.

She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.

He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…

It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.

Hopper steps out.

Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.

When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.

His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.

Then it clicks.

Oh. Steve’s the emergency.

He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.

“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.

Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.

Munson. Eddie.

The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?

Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.

“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?

“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.

When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”

Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”

Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.

“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”

“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.

The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.

“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.

Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.

But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.

“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”

Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.

Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“

Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.

She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”

Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”

She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.

“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.

“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”

But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.

“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.

Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”

But she doesn’t, not really.

Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—

No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.

Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.

When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.

🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.

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[moody-alcoholic]

Part 2 as promised.

Part 1

CW: Dead dove don’t eat, assault, mentions of SA, torture, suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort.

_____________________

Ghost flicks the ash off his cigarette. 

“Do we know who we’re looking for?" Gaz asks. It's a pointless question. They know who they’re looking for. You’ve been mentioning a guy at work who has been getting a little too handsy. 

You were going to confront him in the new year with your boss. You didn’t want to ruin anyone's Christmas, now yours is ruined. 

People are starting to leave the office building now, it’s just past midnight. They watch in silence concealed in the darkness down an alleyway a few buildings from your workplace. Maybe this was the alley you were found down. It’s dark and cold, the businesses are all closed, it would have been easy to coerce you down, it makes his stomach drop. Someone hurt you, he hurt you. 

“Should have taken care of this sooner.” Gaz says. Ghost just hums watching as the lights in the buildings go off. The last few people are filtering out the building. Ghost straightens up flicking his cigarette but to the floor. 

“That’s him.” Ghost says, blowing out the smoke before reaching up to pull the familiar balaclava down over his face. 

_____________________

When the police arrive you feel somewhat sober. Your body is sore, your head throbbing. Seeing them walk in with all their gear makes you nervous. All of a sudden you feel like you’ve done something wrong. 

Johnny never leaves your side, he holds your hand stroking it with his thumb while the female officer asks you questions you don’t know how to answer. You still can’t remember what happened. You can piece it together though, you can tell by the hushed voices and the somber looks from people. 

The worst is the pain, the ache in your body every time you move, the bruises hurt the most.  Sometimes Johnny runs his fingers over them, his eyes going dark and he lets out a sigh. John stands at the end of the bed still, his gaze never leaves you unless someone enters the room. You just want to go home. 

The most embarrassing part is when they have to take pictures of your injuries. Your swollen eye is now turning black and blue. There’s bruises around your neck, talking hurts, swallowing’s worse. The nurse gives you more painkillers but it just makes you feel sick. 

John talks with the officers and the nurse after they’re done. Johnny tries to keep your attention on him. You feel embarrassed, the nurse said they did a rape kit, you don’t even remember that, the police need to take it for evidence. That makes silent tears come, you can’t stop them. 

“C’mon, none of that love.” Johnny says reaching up to brush them away. 

“I want to go home,” you sob. 

“We’ll be home soon, promise,” he smiles. You want a shower, you want to scrub your body clean. You feel dirty, your stomach is turning as your mind wanders to the unthinkable. You hope you never remember what happened, you fear you won’t be so lucky.

_____________________

Ghost’s fist meets his cheek, his nose is broken, his jaw will be next. Not now though, now they need him to talk. 

“Price says he’s on his way.” Gaz says as he walks back over to him. “Asked you not to kill him.” Ghost just grunts. 

Ryan, that's his name. You never mentioned that to them, you didn’t mention much just that he was making you uncomfortable. Gaz was right they should have dealt with this sooner. They shouldn’t have let you go to the party alone. Even before you left you had reservations. 

Ryan hasn’t said much. He was very drunk when they picked him up. He seems pretty sober now, he’s scared. 

Good, he should be.

Ghost wonders if you were scared, when you were assaulted. It doesn’t seem like you remember much, for your sake he hopes it stays that way. 

The door to the secluded warehouse opens, the sound of slamming metal echoes in the space. John bought this place a few months ago, used to store scrap metal. The place still smells of rust, but it’s outside the city center, it’s quiet and that's all they need. 

Price walks over coming out of the darkness. He doesn’t say a word, just takes in the scene. Ryan looks up, his eyes glued on the new person walking up to him. Price grabs the back of a chair and places it in front of him before sitting down. 

“Ryan, right?” He asks. The man nods. “Had a good night? He doesn’t move. 

“Do you like your job?” He nods again. Price leans forward. “So, let's have a chat about what happened tonight.” 

“Nothing happened tonight,” he says, swallowing hard. Price smiles at him for a second before sitting back up.

“Let’s try that again. What happened at the party?” Ryan looks confused for a second. Blood is still dripping from his nose, Price sighs this is going to be a long night. 

“Wait, is this all about her?” He asks looking up past Price at Ghost. “Look I don’t know what you think happened but she came onto me.” 

Price hums his hands gripping his thighs before getting up and moving the chair away. “Thing is, I just don’t believe you.” Ghost steps back over to him. 

“I’m telling the truth.” He pleads. 

“Nope, try again.” Price says. Ghost’s fist crashes into Ryans face. His head snaps uncomfortably, he spits blood coughing. 

“So what happened at the party?” Price asks again. 

“Who the fuck even are you!?” He shouts looking round at the 3 men standing in front of him.  

“That doesn’t matter.” Price says, Ryan scoffs spitting again. 

“Why do you care?” He asks, looking around at everyone. 

“It’s a simple question.” Price says bending down so his head is level with his face. “We can be here all night. Or you can be honest with us.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, there’s a shake in his voice. The adrenaline and alcohol pumping through his system is filling him with confidence. They have to break that first. Price sighs moving back to stand with Gaz. 

This time Ghost’s fist slams into his stomach. He buckles over in pain, crying out as he pants. Price doesn’t wait, striding over to him grabbing his hair, pulling his head back. 

“Okay, okay. But she was drunk!” He shouts, trying to fight Price’s grip. His arms and legs are tied to the chair. Price doesn’t let go of his head holding it back as far as it will go. 

“No. Try again.” Price says through gritted teeth. 

“I didn't do anything!” He says between breaths. Price looks up at Ghost and nods, Ghost unfolds his arms going back over to the car. 

“We can make this very uncomfortable for you. All we need is the truth.” Price says, pulling his head again. 

“I don’t know anything.” There’s a whimper in his voice, a crack in his confidence. They're getting there. Price forces his head straight as Ghost comes back over to them twirling the knife in his hand. Ryans eyes go wide, his arms and legs pulling on the restraints. Price keeps his grip firm on his head forcing him to look at Ghost’s hulking figure moving towards him. 

“Last chance.” Price says. Ryan doesn’t say anything, his eyes still locked onto Ghost. 

“I-I didn't-” He sucks in a breath of air swallowing. “She was drunk!” 

Price sighs, shaking his head. He looks up at Ghost, he can see the disgust behind his lieutenants eyes. 

Ghost plunges the knife into his thigh. Price lets go of Rhyn’s head as he screams.

_____________________

John left almost an hour ago. Johnny recommended a bath instead of a shower, so you could soak and warm up. He gets in the bath with you pulling your back up against his chest as you sit between his legs. The bath was a good idea, the water is almost too hot but you don’t mind. 

It feels good to be in Johnny’s arms. He helps you rub soap over your body. He’s gentle, pressing kisses on your shoulders avoiding your neck. You sigh, relaxing back into him. Your head is still stuffy, it feels like you’ve been run over by a truck. 

“Where is everyone?” You ask. 

“Out, they’ll be back soon don’t worry.” He says his voice is warm in your ear. His arms squeeze you closer to him. The memories of the night seem to be just out of reach, you remember a face though. 

“I know who it was,” you say your voice catches in your throat. 

“Shh, we don’t have to talk about it.” His hand comes to push hair behind your ear. You smile, you don’t want to talk about it but maybe it will help. 

“I have work tomorrow.” Your stomach sinks. The thought of going back to that place with him there. Having to spend the days avoiding him, brushing off his hands as they squeeze your ass or his fingers press against your breasts. You were going to talk to your boss about him in the new year. 

“No you don’t, don’t worry about anything.” He says kissing your shoulder again. You shiver, the water has lost its heat. Johnny shifts pushing you forward. 

“C’mon let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel better after a good sleep.” You don’t know if you believe him but he gets out the bath leaving you alone and cold. You feel dirty, used. You feel panic rising in your chest. As soon as you hear the door to the room open you lay down in the tub closing your eyes and holding your breath. 

Your mind goes back to the alley, it’s like flashes in your vision, the dump trash bin you’re uncomfortably bent over. A hand over your mouth then round your neck. The pain, the pain is unbelievable. You don’t remember how it happened, how you ended up there, the next thing you remember is a party of drunk women finding you. Then the paramedics showed up. 

Your lungs burn but you don’t care. You deserve the pain. Hands grip your arms pulling you up out of the water. 

“Christ love,” Johnny says, holding you against him as you pant sucking in breaths of air. The panting turns to sobbing. He reaches, pulling the plug out the bath and picking you up in his arms. 

“I know, love I know.” He takes you into the bedroom putting you down on the bed. You pull your legs up to your chest. Johnny dries you, rubbing you down while you sob. He brings pyjamas over, he helps you change, pulling the fresh clothes on you. You still feel dirty, maybe it will always be like this. You don’t want it to be like this.

“It hurts.” You say as he climbs into bed behind you. His arms wrap around you pulling your back against his chest. 

“You’re okay lass, you’re safe.” He kisses the top of your head. It’s not, it's not going to be okay. You just hope whatever the others are doing they’re safe. You miss them, you want to see them again. You want everything to go back to normal 

…

Simon crawls into the bed with you and Johnny. You’re asleep on Johnny’s chest. He shuffles up against your back wrapping his arm around you both. His hair is still wet from the shower. He kisses the top of your head. Johnny stirs feeling a hand grip his hip. 

“Did you get him?” Johnny asks, his voice still sleepy. 

“Yeah, we got him.” 

_____________________

[ellxio]

✭ contains: malexmale, bottom male reader, ocxmale!reader, smut, vampire!reader, blowjob, fingering, grinding, semi!public, overstimulation.

w.c: 2.1k

Being a half-blood was hard, adapting to a human life is easier said then done, adjusting to daily needs such as water, food and 𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽. Wandering around because you couldn't sleep and wanted to explore the area near your apartment and because of the chilly yet comforting breeze of the night. But that was the very sole reason for ending up in this exact situation.

An h/c haired male could be seen, pushed infront of a bricked wall, face smushed between the wall and a soft but defined chest of an unfamiliar male.

"I'm so sorry..please let me-"before you could say anything, you were roughly turned around, now having a clear view of the man you might or might have not started beef with.

The guy had a very sharp and defined jawline, messy blonde hair, and red captivating eyes, you immediately flushed in embarrassment from the close contact and also the alluring male infront of you. Immediately avoiding his gaze and a surprised reaction was achieved from you, licking a long stripe on the side of your neck, shivering from the sensation "You taste good.." he said lowly "what do you-"

The unknown male roughly kissed you, asking for an entrance, but you being you, did not let the male do so, saving your sanity and dignity. That didn't satisfy the blonde male and slipped a leg between yours and gently yet impatiently grinded his leg, earning surprised gasp's and whines from you

Your legs slowly turning into jello having no choice but to grab the male infront of you and to reciprocate the kiss. As minutes passed the kiss got more intense and the grinding got more rougher, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and just when you felt like you would pass out, the guy separated from you, a string of saliva connecting from your bruised lips.

"What a perv.." The male chuckled, shamelessly staring at your bulge, the guy pulled you closer, turning you around again pulling your joggers just below your ass, tears prickled your eyes, feeling humiliated and defenseless "H-..hey, what is your problem!?" You asked the male, panting lightly, nervousness could be heard from your voice. "You act as if your not drooling precum..look, isn't he cute??" He said as he grabbed your hard shaft, your face burned in embarrassment and shame. he sure wasn't lying, your tip was literally drooling loads of precum, he wouldn't admit it but it sure did turn him on..and just as he was about to tease you more, an unknown voice called out to the secluded alleyway "Hey!! who's there?!"

You froze in fear feeling a wet sensation on your ass, you peered at the male behind you, and was faced with a mischievous smile and he suddenly plunged two fingers inside you

"hmph.!" you bit your lip, muffling the unfamiliar sound, the weird sensation making you feel hot and dizzy not noticing that the unfamiliar male left awhile ago. Just when you were about to burst, the blonde male stopped, earning a soft whine and a gasp from you

Hurriedly pulling your pants back on and dragged you to the nearest public bathroom, which was literally next to a grocery store.

Pushing you in one of the stalls and hungrily kissing you, pulling you closer by the hips and grinding both of your clothed shaft's "H-hey.. mngh..can we slow down for a bit..?" You breathlessly said, turning your head to the other side "..fine"

Pushing you unto your knees and unzipping his jeans. The sight made you nervous, he was very thick and long, a pinkish tip decorated with veins "open wide" he said with a smirk. It didn't seem right but it felt sooo right. You shouldn't be doing it. Yet your body was behaving as if it was in some kind of heat- like mode. You were sweating, having a hard time breathing and, not to mention, you couldn't take your eyes off the guy's crotch. His thick, veiny cock was so damn alluring that it made your mouth water. You sat down on the ground, Welcoming the stranger's dick in your mouth, your taste buds was filled with salty precum, his musk making you even more dizzy and thirsty, this led to you now having a hard cock in front of your face... or, to be more precise, deep in your mouth, as the blonde quickly attacked, shoving his whole length into your throat. The salty precum continuously poured itself down your throat. It was so intense. Then the blonde began to fuck fast and without any mercy for you. Tears continuously dripping from the humiliation and pleasure.

Gags, slurps, moans and grunts could be heard from the stall "Shit..you sure you haven't.. ngh.. done this before?" The male asked, his cock spitting out loads of precum and the twitching indicated that the man was close to his climax "I'm close..y-you better take it all like the good boy you are.." he grunted, his thrust's now getting more rougher and feverishly

With one last hard thrust, your throat was filled with warm delicious cum, It took a minute for the man to finally stop cumming. Pulling away from his cock with a pop, gasping for air and also wiping the excess cum that dripped from the sides of your mouth, licking your finger's clean while maintaining eye contact with the blonde "please give me more" you said desperately, hungry for more of the attention or to be stuffed full

"You sick fuck" The blonde male chuckled in disbelief and excitement, pulling you on top of his lap, this new position you were able to see his face more clearly, a teasing smile framing his flushed face, his hands landed on your butt for a better stability. The blonde's tongue made itself comfortable inside your mouth, wrestling with your own or just exploring the whole area and taking your breath away. You closed your eyes, focusing mostly on the sensation coming from the touch of the unknown guy. Only now did you realize how pleasantly he smelled, you wanted to hide your face in his pale neck, "Nikolai.." he said lowly and as fast as lightning, he returned back to his cocky self, smirking "Better remember it so you can at least properly scream my name while i breed this ass full" you smiled and teasingly grinded your bare ass on his cock "m/n-" before you could continue, nikolai already had a firm grip on your ass cheeks and impaled you on his big, hard cock.

A choked moan came out from you and before you could comprehend what happened he roughly bounced you up and down, broken and loud moans spewed out of you like a chorus, a noticeable bulge could be seen just above your belly button, indicating that the male impaled you down his base. The male infront of you grunted from time to time, he resumed his movements and littered hickeys and bites all over your soft flawless skin

"You're so beautiful..so good for me" He said gently, but his actions didn't say so, your ass was already sore and reddish from the spankings, nikolai slowed down a bit confusing you "w..why did you stop?" he didn't answer and just turned you around, propping your arms on the toilet's tank as support, not a minute or so, Nikolai already continued his harsh brutal thrusts. Each thrust made you move forward, your dick rubbing the cold tank which made you drip more precum, moans and grunts echoed throughout the public restroom

It had only been an hour and your face was already a mess, drool, tears and even cum, tongue lolled out, your clothes was ridden up to your chest, nipples bitten and bruised, neck littered with bites and hickeys, your stamina was slowly running out. Countless times of chanting Nikolai's name making your voice hoarse, having difficulties in forming a coherent sentence "slow-..ngh..slow down pl-ease!~" you begged, feeling lightheaded and hazy but the male behind you, couldn't even notice what you were feeling because he himself was lost in a cloud "I'm close-Take it.. take it like the good boy you are" he grunted, his thrust's becoming more fastened and short as he was chasing his high. After a few more thrusts

plap plap plap

Nikolai buried himself as deep as possible and finally released his first batch of warm delicious cum. Stilling for a while thinking it was finally over, you slowly detached yourself from the male, but before you could

"Hey what do you think you're doing? we're not even half way through" The look on his face just proved you that he was saying the truth, but not a minute or so, his face contorted into shock, confused yourself; you felt something dripping down your nose, metallic and watery. The man interrupted your thoughts "How long has it been since you last fed?" the statement made you froze "what do you mean?" he scoffed "Your pale complex and eyes said so" before you could ask more questions, he pushed you back on the toilet seat and positioned himself "Feed while i continue my business" Nikolai said, firmly grabbing your waist presenting you his neck. The sight itself was already making you puke, but you were in no position to refuse such enticing smell, he tapped your butt "Go ahead" slowly, you sank your teeth into the blonde's neck and the taste— oh it was so delicious, your expression was so cute, tongue lolled out with drool escaping the sides of your mouth and eyes with heart, shaped pupils. Nikolai couldn't wait anymore and plunged his meat in one thrust, out of reflexes you wrapped your arms around the blonde's shoulder, and just like before, the male begun his brutal pounding.

After countless rounds, Nikolai was sweaty, remains of cum on his abs, biceps, neck and chest littered with bloodied bitemarks, and back with long scratches. You weren't doing any better, you looked like you were ravaged for 24 hours, hair messy, heart shaped pupils decorating your now hazy e/c, drool escaping your mouth, voice hoarse from the constant moaning, body layered with a thin amount of sweat and cum, neck littered with hickeys and bruises.

And with one last thrust "mngh!.." synchronized moans and grunts were heard as Nikolai filled you to the brim, with cum escaping your abused hole.

The both of you catching your breath, after a minute, Nikolai started cleaning you and dressing you both up. You couldn't even move properly, still twitching from overstimulation and mind still hazy because of being fed for hours.

Nikolai carried you bridal style, bystanders flushed in embarrassment and others with judgement looks was what greeted you both when you exited the restroom. A white car stopped infront of you, the driver opening it as you and Nikolai entered it. Upon being situated inside, the driver gave you both privacy by closing the privacy partition

"How are you feeling?" Nikolai asked you, giving you a water bottle. Nodding your head as a sign of gratitude, drinking the water, feeling relieved "I.. I'm good, tired. But nonetheless good.." You answered. The male hummed as acknowledgement and brought you closer to him "Where are we going?..you do know i live around the area back there, right?.." he chuckled "For a man who just got pounded awhile ago, you sure are talkative" he teased, you blushed in embarrassment and looked down "I'll fully take responsibility. Plus, leaving you to live by yourself will surely bring you trouble" feeling offended, you asked "Hey! what does that mean!" Nikolai chuckled and answered "I'll explain more when we get home. Now, rest up doll, you'll be needing it" Before you could retort more, he hugged you as a sign to shut up and rest since it'll prolly take awhile to get to you guys' destination. Lightly smiling and nuzzling closer to the blonde. Both of you in a calm and comfortable position as if the both of you didn't just ate each other awhile ago. From almost getting ran over, to ending the meeting with a soft and wholesome moment.

end

Dividers by: @anitalenia !!^^

Taglist: @kikizhly @darlingminjin @xx-fallen-angel-xx-blog @milkemim @strboyshfts @cocotiaw @n4muqr @literallyrousseau @ch1mmylvsduxo @cheezbot

Imma tag y'all cuz y'all my moots, feel free to untag yourselves if you want!^^

𝄞 . Please don't be afraid to criticize since i need it to improve my writing, thanks for reading and have and awesome day!! ˃̵ᴗ˂̵

[misswynters]

Royal Harbinger

featuring. ekko x princess! reader

Hailing from the Grand Kirzean Empire, you were a princess. The only one wielding the blood technomagic abilities. Having such powerful abilities yet you are one of the most sweetest person, ekko has ever bet.

Glittering starlight pierced through the thick smog that veiled Zaun, casting faint halos of silver over the jagged metal and broken cobblestone streets. Neon lights pulsed faintly from signs above cluttered alleyways, their buzzing hum blending into the mechanical symphony of the Undercity. Amid the chaos, there stood a figure who seemed so out of place it was almost comical—wrapped in delicate silks and adorned with intricate, glowing lines of red that shimmered faintly with every step.

You, a princess of the a Grand Empire, wielder of forbidden blood technomagic, and to Ekko, someone who had no business wandering these parts.

Perched atop a railing on one of Zaun’s crumbling platforms, Ekko crossed his arms as he watched you. At first glance, you were every bit the image of innocence. That soft smile you offered the street urchins as you handed them what little supplies you’d brought from above. The way your delicate hands caressed the head of a stray Zaunite mutt, soothing its bony frame. Your voice, lilting like a melody, apologizing for taking up space in an already-crowded alley.

It didn’t make sense.

“Hey,” Ekko called from above, leaping down to land lightly on his feet a few steps away from you. “What are you doing here? This place isn’t exactly royal palace material, Princess.”

Your head turned, the faint light catching your gentle features. “Oh, Hi Ekko! I was just… exploring.”

“Exploring?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying an edge of disbelief. “Kirze’s finest blood mage is just out here sightseeing?”

The smile on your lips didn’t falter, though your fingers twitched at the mention of blood magic. “I needed to see this place for myself. You’ve told me so much about Zaun… I couldn’t stay away.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, glancing around. “Zaun isn’t exactly a tourist spot. Especially for someone like you. People see those glowing lines on your arms? They’ll think you’re carrying something valuable and won’t ask before taking it.”

You tilted your head, the light in your eyes curious rather than offended. “Is that why you’ve been following me for the past hour?”

His composure faltered, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the cobblestones. “But you don’t have to protect me, Ekko. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, sure,” he scoffed. “Handle yourself like when that drunk guy in the bar tried to grab your hand last week, and you just smiled at him like he was your best friend?”

Your laugh was soft. “I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

“You’re too nice,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “You’re in Zaun now. Being nice gets you hurt.”

But even as he said it, something about your presence made the buzzing tension in his chest loosen. Maybe it was the way you didn’t flinch at the harshness of his words, or the way your kindness didn’t feel forced. It wasn’t fake or performative—it just was.

Before he could say more, a low growl rumbled from a nearby alley. Ekko tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for the bat strapped to his back. Two figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by bandanas, their postures predatory.

“See?” Ekko muttered, stepping in front of you. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

The larger of the two men chuckled, his voice gravelly. “A couple of lost little birds, eh? Let’s see what you’re hidin'.”

Ekko’s grip tightened on his bat, his stance shifting. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, well we do,” the smaller man sneered, pulling a knife from his belt.

Before Ekko could spring into action, a faint crimson glow bathed the alley. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating, as the markings on your skin flared to life. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, and the two men froze, their bravado crumbling as their bodies seized up, limbs locking unnaturally.

Ekko turned, his jaw slack as he watched you step forward, your hand raised delicately. The men’s weapons clattered to the ground, and with a flick of your wrist, they crumpled, gasping for breath but unharmed.

“Leave,” you said, your voice calm but commanding, as if the very air bent to your will. The men scrambled to their feet and disappeared into the shadows without a second glance. The glow faded from your body as you turned back to Ekko, your serene smile returning as though nothing had happened. “See? I told you I could handle myself.”

He stared at you, his bat still half-raised. “What the hell was that?”

“Blood technomagic,” you said simply, brushing an invisible speck of dust from your sleeve. “It’s a bit… intimidating, I know. I don’t like using it unless I have to.”

“Intimidating?” he repeated, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “You just turned two full-grown men into rag dolls without breaking a sweat.”

You shrugged, your smile faltering slightly. “I don’t want people to see me as a monster. That’s why I try to be kind—to balance it out.”

“Balance it out?” Ekko stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. “You’re not a monster, Firefly. You just saved both our asses.”

The nickname caught you off guard, your cheeks warming as you looked away. “You don’t have to call me that.”

“Uh! Yeah, I do,” he said, his tone softening. “You’re out here lighting up Zaun like no one else can.” Silence stretched between you for a moment.

“Come on,” Ekko said finally, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here before more trouble shows up.”

You hesitated, glancing down at his outstretched hand. Despite the power coursing through your veins, the ability to command life and death with a flick of your wrist, something about the gesture made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

But then you took his hand, his grip warm and steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe with him. As he led you through the winding streets of Zaun, he glanced back at you with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, Firefly, you’re full of surprises.”

“Jeez! You’re full of compliments,” you teased, your voice light despite the lingering weight in your chest.

“Do i?, or do you just deserve all the praise one can get.” he shot back, his grin widening.

. . .

Oh, how you wished that it was just the end. But it wasnt, not in a place like this. Soon after both smoke and ash swirled in the air, a haze of chaos and destruction painted Zaun’s underbelly in muted tones of gray and orange. Shattered pipes hissed steam into the atmosphere, nearly drowned out by the growing fires. The air was thick with tension, each explosion sending shockwaves through the cracked streets.

Amid the wreckage, Ekko’s heart raced as he sprinted through the winding alleys. His boots echoed sharply against the metal ground, his bat swinging at his side as his thoughts churned. Where are you?

He had only taken his eyes off you for a second, just one second. He thought you’d be right behind him as the bombs started going off, but when he turned, you were gone. He didn’t see the men closing in on you until it was too late.

Ekko gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. He had heard of the Empire you were raised in and its unparalleled mastery of technomagic. But meeting you: sweet, kind, and carrying an unfathomable power, had shattered all his assumptions. You weren’t just a mage but a princess as well. But to him, you were simply you. His light in the dark. And now you were in danger. Seemingly.

When you woke, the metallic tang of blood clung to the air. The room was dim, lit only by the faint red glow of the bindings around your wrists. Your gown, once pristine and clean was dirty by the scuffle, and your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and adrenaline.

“Stay calm,” you whispered to yourself, your voice soft, barely audible.

A group of men stood a few feet away, speaking in low voices. Their uniforms were unmarked, and their expressions betrayed no fear as they glanced at you.

“They doesn’t look like much,” one of them sneered. “For someone called the 'Royal Vermilion of Chaos', I expected… more.”

“It’s a stupid nickname at that” someone else said, though you couldn’t see them.

You flinched inwardly but forced yourself to remain composed. “I don’t suppose you’d let me go if I said please?” you asked, your tone almost playful despite the trembling in your hands.

“Cute,” another said with a scoff as his hand cupped your face. “But we know what you are. What you’re capable of. Better to keep you tied up.”

Your smile faltered slightly as your blood hummed beneath your skin, an ever-present pulse of magic just waiting to be unleashed. You had always been careful, never letting your power consume you. But now, fear began to stir something unstable.

Ekko burst into the place like a storm, his bat taking down the first guard before the man could even draw his weapon. The second came at him with a blade, but Ekko ducked and swung upward, sending the man sprawling.

“Where is they?!” he growled, his voice echoing through the metallic halls.

The third guard hesitated, and Ekko pressed the bat against his chest. “Talk, or you won’t have the chance to regret it.”

“Down the hall,” the guard stammered, eyes wide. “In the main chamber!”

Ekko didn’t wait for anything else. He tore through the hallway, his chest tightening with every step.

The explosion was deafening. The bindings around your wrists melted away as your magic surged to life. Crimson veins glowed beneath your skin, and with a single wave of your hand, the room erupted in chaos. The men who had mocked you moments before were now scrambling, their weapons useless against the tidal wave of energy that lashed out.

Walls were cracked, the ceiling shuddered, and the air itself seemed to bend to your will. But as your power spiraled, a sharp pain shot through your arm. You looked down to see a jagged cut along your forearm, blood dripping onto the floor. The sight steadied you. Taking a deep breath, you channeled the magic inward, watching as the blood wove itself back into your skin. The wound closed, leaving only a faint scar that glimmered for a moment before fading. When the door burst open, you turned, your energy still crackling around you like a storm.

“Firefly!” Ekko’s voice broke through the chaos, and for a moment, you hesitated.

His eyes darted across the room, taking in the destroyed walls, the unconscious bodies, and you, standing at the center of it all. Your gown was soaked in blood, and your face bore streaks of crimson, but you were alive.

“Hi,” you whispered, relief flooding your voice.

In an instant, he was in front of you, his hands cupping your face. His thumbs brushed against the bloodstains on your cheeks, his eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” you said softly, a shaky smile forming. “But I think you should ask them if they’re okay.” You gestured to the men sprawled across the floor.

Ekko’s lips twitched, a short, breathless laugh escaping him. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you might disappear. “Y’know I was so scared,” he murmured into your hair, his voice cracking.

You hugged him back, your fingers curling into his jacket. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze intense. “This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

You met his eyes, the tension slowly ebbing away as his warmth grounded you. For a moment, the chaos around you faded, leaving only the two of you.

“That was incredible, y’know?” he said, a teasing grin forming.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound light and genuine. “I’ll take that as one of your compliments.”

Ekko shook his head, his grin widening. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before you decide to redecorate the rest of Zaun.”

As you left the hideout, his arm stayed firmly around your shoulders, his presence a constant reassurance. Despite the destruction you had left behind, Ekko’s steady hand in yours made you feel like everything might just be okay.

Later, the two of you sat in the a garden. It was one of the few quiet, untouched spots in Zaun. Ekko couldn’t help but tease you. “So, Firefly,” he began, his tone playful. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I wouldn’t hurt you, though.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now. “But next time, maybe warn me before you turn an entire room into a scene from a horror movie?”

You laughed, the sound bright and free, and Ekko felt his chest tighten. Despite everything, you were still you. His sweet, kind Firefly who somehow carried the weight of a mage’s power with grace. And as the neon lights of Zaun reflected in your eyes, Ekko leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” he said quietly, the words simple but sincere.

You smiled, leaning into him. “I love you too.” The two of you stayed at the garden until dawn. You were practically sleeping on his shoulder, exhausted from today, but he didn’t mind. Because he knew soon that you would have to leave, and god knows when he will see you again. So he wanted to cherish every moment he had with you.

taglist: @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights @chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct @celineandtulips @stuckinaoaktree @fxxvz @jadziulaa @luclue @1intrustivethoughts @finnsky666 @blkmystery @serena6728 @mvistl @kaedeprinz @alientee @ametheslime @turquoizxe @emforjin @ekkosh @tadomikiku @sugaaawaraaa @sunshiines-stuff @night-fall-moon @moonccakes @endedlover @autumn2534 @deathweapongirl @girlistrange @auraa @ilovesugurugeto69 @zwr1tx @bitchydragonparadisee @chewbrry @lashawna200 @xaydria @aliives @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @catsf0rlife707 @pixieswashere @adesum @sorrows-song @hearts4li @qualityearthquakes @honeyfewr @littlegrapejuice @potatointhedirt @comfortweeb

[kenyummy]

✰ 01. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 01. sparkless life.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: guys i couldnt resist posting criesssss . also master is used as a gender neutral term!!!! couldn't be bothered to put master/mistress every time so

prev. ✰ masterlist. ✰ next.

When you wake up, your eyes are permeated by a hard light. Your eyes are squinted hard and you're having a difficult time getting your eyes to focus.

Your brain is fuzzy and feels like melted candy in your head. What was going on, again...? This bed... it's really comfy. It's like laying on a bed made of clouds, fairy dust, and your hopes and dreams.

(Nothing like your lumpy mattress back home... May told you it built character.)

You reach your hand up, to try and block out the harsh glare directed right into your retina. It dims in a second, and for a moment—you think you've finally developed mutant powers of telekinesis. You sit up—only to discover you were not actually the one who turned off said lights.

"Apologies, Master [name]." An older man with a distinct British accent stands in the door—a few feet away from the bed you're resting on. "I did not realise you had awoken already. I would've turned down the lights, if I was aware."

You blink, surveying the room around you. It's big. Unfamiliar, as well. Modern. Really big. Wait, did he just call you—

"Master [name]?" Your mouth moves faster than your mind, and your brows furrow deep. "What... where am I?"

The older man looks genuinely puzzled at how defensive your stance is. "Oh dear. Perhaps you did end up getting lead poisoning. Or a concussion. ... No matter. This recent amnesia is common within traumatic injuries."

He clears his throat with strict elegance and straightens his posture, "[name]. I believe you were attacked in an alleyway, when your brother found you. You were in the hospital for a few days, and brought back here—back home—this morning. You're currently in one of your father's guest rooms. The doctors said you were healing miraculously fast."

You hiss lowly. You really hope they hadn't gotten a blood sample—you haven't had the best of experiences with people getting your blood.

"You seem to be alright now. A bit..." He looks at your exposed, scarred shoulders. "Scuffed up—but better than when Master Jason had found you."

Your brother... Jason...? Who even...?

What's going on here?

Your heart seems to skip a beat as the calculations start going off in your head. A world you had never heard of... a place you'd never seen before—perhaps you weren't on a different world, and like you had suspected... it was definetly some multiverse shenanigans again.

You knew you should've made Jess take that mission instead of you. Damn. You and your dumb rivalry with Doc.

But you couldn't understand why this random man knows you. He speaks as if you've lived a life with him—like he's known you since...

You chew down on your bottom lip. "... This is... my home. I live here, don't I...?"

You play with words cautiously, speaking slow and methodical. It only serves to confuse the man even further.

"Yes, you... do? Master [name], perhaps you should go back to the hospital. You're sounding rather frazzled—"

You almost jump up, out of the sheets, "Uh—no! I... I'm fine. My head's just a bit... messed up right now. Sorry."

It's not—after that flashbang, you're feeling fine. Your shoulder only burns with a stretch whenever you put too much pressure on it—but you're completely okay otherwise. But you don't think you should let him know that just yet.

"If you insist, Master [name]." He bows his head. "Do you require any further assistance?"

You blink, considering your choices.

Eventually, you land on the safest option. Search your surroundings. Find out what's going on here before going all Spider-ham on them. For all you know—they're super skrulls waiting for the right moment to strike. You need to be smart about this.

"Yes... I would like to go to my room... could you... walk me there?" You don't meet his stern gaze. "I'm not sure I'm able to walk on my own two feet just yet. I'm sorry."

You don't see how his stare softens at your words. "Of course, Master [name]."

He walks over to the edge of the bed and steadies you with a hand on your shoulder as you shakily stumble out of the bed. It's bouncy enough to launch you forward slightly—and it takes every muscle in your body to stop your Spidey-instincts from taking over and jumping backwards.

He slips your arm within his and steadies you as you both slowly walk out of the large guest room. If this was a guest room—you wonder what your room looked like.

The hallways weren't anything to sneeze at, either. Decorated with contemporary art pieces—sleek and so shiny you could see your face in the tiles below your bare feet. You felt so out of place—the civilian clothes you sported since you got here still dressed your body, and it wasn't even close to fitting in.

As you stumble down the halls with a bit of overdramacy, a man suddenly appears from around a corner. Deep black hair and the brightest blue eyes you'd ever seen. His smile is wide and he waves enthusiastically, "Hey, Alfred! I got back from Blüdhaven after uh—I heard what happened."

"Hello, Master Dick. It's lovely to see you back home again." Alfred nods his head. The man in question—Dick, apparently, which makes the immature teen in you giggle—gives you a sorrowful expression.

But... doesn't say anything past that. He continues small talk with Alfred—and you're left propped up in the older man's arms with a lost expression.

Did he... just blow you off?

One—that was pretty rude. Two, did he not just say he came back after he heard what happened? Not to toot your own horn or anything—but you'd assume being shot kind of counts as a "what happened".

You press your lips firmly together. This was getting awkward for you, especially seeing how comfortable this huge Dick (yeah, you're taking it and running with it) seemed to be with leaving this sickly, wounded (maybe you're being a tad dramatic) person to stumble like a baby fawn, in silence.

Alfred, however—catches sight of your one-sided tension, and abruptly ends his conversation. "My apologies, Master Dick, but I must help [name] to their room. I would love to continue this conversation at a later date."

"Oh yeah, no sweat, Alfred." He gives the older man a gleeful thumbs up. Then, his eyes meet yours. "Get better soon, okay?"

You avert his stare and only nod in response. Well, at least he noticed you were there. You're still in mild shock, but you somehow manage to keep a pleasant expression. With one last small smile, Dick walks away—where, you don't really care about.

Alfred slowly helps you up a flight of stairs. He only breaks the silence after you find yourself standing in front of a room with a faded name on it. Your name. "... All these years, and only now, you've suddenly changed. I wonder..."

His words are cryptic, but his expression even more so. What was he talking about? "... Huh?"

A small smile fades on his face. "Ah... no. It's nothing. I was thinking out loud. Call me if you need anything else, Master [name]. I am at your service. And please... get better soon."

Somehow, it sounds nicer when he says it. You smile a little, and give him a nod.

"Thank you..." You test out his name on your tongue. It feels natural. "Alfred. I'll try my best."

He leaves with a curt nod and not another word. You finally slide the door open, and take a look around.

You step inside, and it's like you've entered a whole new world, again.

It's... small. Not by regular standards—it's almost double the size of your room at home—but compared to a guest bedroom in this overly massive home... it's rather small. Like a closet, more than a bedroom.

It's empty, too. Your room at home is decorated with posters and trinkets of your favourite shows, pictures of you with Harry and MJ (sometimes even the four), and memorable items you've collected with your friends and family over the years.

Memories. You had memories.

There is nothing here.

It's like you're standing in a blank slate—in a world where you are nothing and yet everything you've ever had. It sends a chill down your spine.

You walk barefoot across cold wood and take a seat on the bedsheets. Bare white with a childish print. Something a young child would use. It looks pretty scuffed up. Old. The mattress creaks under your weight and you wince.

There's a bookshelf just opposite to you. There's not much in it—in fact, it's smaller than small and is almost completely empty. There's nothing but school textbooks and thick novels. And...

It catches your eye almost immediately. A little pink slip in the midst of deep black and brown colours. You stand up—ignoring the creak that follows—and walk over to the shelf.

You slip the book out, and immediately take in its cover. Pink, and with your name in wonky cursive. It's rather dusty, as if it hadn't even been touched in years.

You flip open the cover. Big bubble letters spelling out My diary flash you and you quickly flip the page before the glitter sears into your eyelids.

The first entry is there. Exactly seven years and two months ago. It's nothing like those entries you've seen on those corny 2000's TV shows for tweens—nor is it like those aesthetic journaling girls on Pwinterest.

It's something, familiarly, you. A short clunk of text about your day, on days that had some sort of exciting event going on—something you'd undoubtedly do. It almost makes you grimace.

This whole multiverse thing might be worse than you thought.

Two days ago I moved into a new house. My mom said she couldn't take care of me anymore, and I had to live with my dad. I've never seen him until today, but he's really busy, so we don't talk much. Alfred is nice to me, and his cooking is really yummy.

There's a little sketch of a baked dinner—and despite your pre-tween art skills, it does seem rather tasty looking.

You flip the page. The next entry is a week after the last.

I still haven't talked with dad yet. But I did meet two new people. Alfred said that they're my new brothers. Mom never wanted any more babies, so I was very excited to meet them! Jason is fun to play with. He's really bad at hide and go seek, though—I always win! Dick is fun too, but he's busy a lot, like dad. But he always makes time for me and Jason. I really like it here.

There's a small picture of three stick people holding hands. One is significantly short than the other two—labelled with your name above. The one on the left to you is Jason, with black curls and a wide grin. The one on the right is labelled Dickie, much taller than the other two and with shaggy black hair.

The drawing is innocent. Cute. Wholesome, if you will. There's even heart stickers pasted (and peeling, by now) between each of your heads.

You flip the page with a small, fond smile. The next entry is three days after that one.

Dad played with me, Jason, and Dickie today. He was really bad at hide and go seek too—but Dad and Jason chased each other all around the house before I caught both of them. I was so happy I won today! Dad took us all out for dinner, even Alfred. Alfred said he only came because I always look very happy when we're together. The dinner was really yummy!!!!

The drawing underneath is a picture of what looked like a smaller version of you, standing triumphantly with a little tiara on your head.

You flip the page. This time—there's a significant gap between the dates. This was a whole 5 months after you last wrote in your diary.

I don't know where Jason is. Dad and Dickie look really sad. They've been really busy for a long time, and we don't play much anymore. The only times I see Dad is at dinner. But we don't talk. Sometimes he doesn't eat dinner, either. Alfred still puts my drawings on the fridge, and he says that Dad and Dickie are just sad now, and they'll be better soon. I miss Jason. I want him back home.

There's no silly-looking drawing to go underneath this entry. This Jason—apparently the man who saved you—seemed rather fun-loving, despite whatever happened to him. You wonder what it was.

You flip the page, again. This entry was 3 months after the last.

I miss Dad, and Dickie. Dickie told me he had to go away for a bit, because he has something important to do somewhere else. Dad is busy all the time. I haven't seen him in 4 days. I don't play with anyone but Alfred now, but he's not that fun to play with, because he's so serious all the time. Dad tells me to go on my iPad and not bother Alfred when I'm bored, but I miss them.

Next one is 2 days after.

I met a new boy today. Dad told me he's my new brother. I was pretty excited because he's my age. But he didn't want to talk to me. He said he was too caught up in important stuff, and that I should just come back later. But he looked real annoyed when saying it—so I didn't come back. He didn't say anything, so I don't think he cared.

A week later.

My dad is Batman, and my new brother is Robin. I'm freaking out. He never told me—I saw them sneaking out one day and I got really mad. Why didn't he tell me? Did Dickie and Jason know? Was I the only one who didn't? Tim got mad at me when I started yelling. I felt really sad so I hid in my room to get away from them. I've been here since. Alfred brought me dinner, but I'm not hungry.

So... this Batman who you saw before, is actually your dad? In this world, this is your father? You almost drop the diary in shock, but you can't tear your eyes away. You can't stop reading.

The next few entries don't catch your eye—it's all teen angst about how you're sick of how busy your dad is, how annoying Tim can be, how Dick won't even visit your room anymore—until something else catches your eye.

3 years later.

Jason is back. He's back home. I don't know why, but he's back. I was so excited to see him again—everyone else has become so busy and won't even talk to me. Nobody else has time for me, but Jason did. But he looked different. He's way older than me, now. He won't even look at me. I tried to hug him but he just put a mask on and walked away. Why is everyone doing this to me? What did I do? It's not fair.

Your writing grows into chicken scratch near the end—as if conveying your frustration. You skim through a few more entries. More teen angst. More about how you can't even hold a conversation with your siblings anymore.

Some were sweet, like how you met some people, unnamed, and treasured their friendship so deeply, but they were few and far between.

I met a girl today. She's my sister now. Her name is Cassandra, and she has very pretty eyes. I tried to talk to her, but dad got pretty mad at me because apparently she doesn't like to talk much. How was I supposed to know that? She didn't even look at me as dad pulled her away. Who even is she? Why does my dad like her better than me? Why does he like them all better than me? It's not fair.

You're bitter. You're upset, and so, so bitter. It's so abundantly clear that as time went on, you became progressively more and more spiteful. It was rather sad to watch.

This stupid little kid tried to kill me. Claimed I was unworthy. I couldn't give less of a shit what he thinks—but my family couldn't give less of a shit about me. They said he's troubled, that he needs patience.

The new few words were less than family friendly. Unkind? Definitely. Deserved? Possibly.

I can't believe this. I'm so sick of this. I want to get out. I can't take this anymore. Jason kills people now, but Bruce still loves him. Even Steph and Babs get more love from Bruce than me. They're not even in the family, but they're better. Because they're superheroes, they're better. Maybe I'll be a hero myself. Maybe then, they'll see me.

You flip the page. That's the last entry. The last page of the book—but behind it, there's a page made of sticky notes on the back cover. Your eyes widen in shock at what you see.

It's all...

"Spidey," you read out the name atop this pasted page in a low whisper.

Your fingertips trace over the detailed drawings. Your costume. Though not made of nanotech—the suit was intricately designed with spider patterns falling all around your arms and legs, with a large spider torso. It looked somewhat like Silk's suit.

Web shooters, with thorough calculations on how much you'd have to bulk up to swing without taking your arm off (which, by what you're reading, was humanly impossible for a regular you), and detailed explanations on what the web fluid was made out of.

More environmentally sustainable than your ones. You'd have to take these notes back home.

It wasn't like your family would go looking—you can't help but think, chewing on your cheek. This was incredible. You must've been a real genius to figure all this out.

Back home, you had Reed and Tony help you with all your spider stuff. Sure, you were the one who came up with all the base ideas and constructed it all yourself—but they helped out a lot with all the technicalities. But to come up with something like, from what you can tell, all on your own...

It was nothing short of incredible. And your family had no idea.

You snap the book shut, eyes narrowing down at the ground. Your Aunt May never would've treated you like this—and if you were correct, this other you must be with your aunt right now.

Good for them, you think. Maybe they'd be happier there, anyway.

A sudden knock at your door brings you out of your stupor. You slip the book away quickly as Alfred opens the door, bowing his head slightly. "Master [name], dinner is ready. If you're feeling better, please come down."

The prospect of a family dinner leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, especially after all you've read from this diary. No matter. You don't know how this you behaved before, but you have bigger issues to deal with than becoming a copy of this sad child.

But despite everything... Alfred really did seem to care for them—for you. You nod, smoothing out your cami. "Thanks. Let's go."

You and he both head down the stairs, and you finally come face to face with the family you've heard so much about.

They're all grinning from ear-to-ear, laughing about something that "happened on patrol" as you take a seat at the end of the table—beside a blonde girl who you think was called Stephanie—chewing on the food.

It was good. Really good. Almost as good as Aunt May's meatloaf. The thought makes you feel a little homesick, but you persevere. The hard glare given to you across the table by this small kid (definitely Damian) isn't helping, though.

Dick catches the look and follows his little brothers gaze to you. He doesn't say anything about it—only ruffles the boy's hair, chuckling, and asks why he seems so glum. The child hisses and starts trying to stab the man with a steak knife, to no avail—of course.

That was the last time you were even glanced at for the rest of the dinner. You almost can't believe it. How could somebody really fade into the background like that? How could such a family let it happen?

How could they be so ignorant? You lose your appetite soon enough, and stand up. The chatter dies down for a second. Stephanie—being the closest toward you, gives you an uncomfortable smile, "Are you not going to finish? You were out for a while... you need energy to get back up and do..."

Whatever it is you do at home, you guess that's probably what she was thinking. Who said you hadn't gotten a telepathic mutation?

She doesn't finish her sentence. You'd just met these people and already you were sick of this. Seriously, you don't think you could get any more uncomfortable if somebody strapped you to a chair and tossed you down a dark well.

You miss the most fantastic of fours you know. They'd never do this to you. Sue was far too sweet.

You shake your head, plate held tight in your hand. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. There's much more important things out there in Gotham, isn't there? Besides—I have more than enough time to heal. Not like I'm doing any hero stuff, huh?"

Your laugh lacks any kind of humour, and you walk out in your typical Spidey fashion. The chatter doesn't spike up for a good ten minutes until after you leave.

You meet Alfred in the kitchen, and he's doing countless dishes alone. There's a stack of plates almost as tall as he is. You roll up your sleeves.

He gives you a confused look. "Master [name]? I have told you before, you—"

"I don't care what you told me." You say, suddenly—but you backtrack when you realise how flat your tone was. Cheeks flushed, you correct yourself, "Ah—sorry. I meant... I don't care what you told me, because it doesn't matter if you don't want help... I'll offer it anyway, you know? I can't help it. It's how I am."

It's why I'm Spidey. Not because I have powers. Not because I'm good at swinging around. Not even because the costume is awesome.

It's because you can't help but help others. You have the power to do so—now it's your responsibility.

You take a sponge, and douse it in dishwashing liquid. You scrub down a porcelain plate beside Alfred in silence.

The pensive look on his face was now replaced by a small, fond smile.

we getting into the typical diary entry stuff okokokkkk but. love interests next chapter. smirks let me cook!!!@

taglist: @hello-bina @cosmosluckycharms @1abi @yhin-gg @insideoutjulie @bluepanda08 @omnivirgo @vanessa-boo @dind1n @welpthisisboring @lunaetiicsaystuff @marsmabe @atanukileaf @findingjaxx @4mrplumi

if you asked to be on the taglist but aren't there, your account couldn't be tagged for whatever reason. im not too sure how tumblr works, but if you manage to fix it, ask me again!!!

[scho17]

In some fucked up way it was kinda funny. 

Guy on the run goes to Bludhaven to keep a low profile and catches the attention of a vigilante. The universe is laughing at him, surely. 

Everything was fine up until a month ago. Really, it was. Danny had obtained his own shitty apartment and yeah, maybe his dead end job made him want to eat dirt more than usual but everything was fine. There weren’t any eyes on him and now there were. A certain bird didn’t know how to leave him alone.

“Can I help you, Nightwing?” Danny says in a flat tone, leaning his forearms against the rails of the fire escape. He isn’t a cigarette type of guy but if ever there were a time this would be it.

“Mhum. I want names, same as always.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “We both know I can’t tell you anything.”

“But you could.”

“I could,” Danny acquiesced with a shallow nod. “And then what? When they can’t get to me, they’ll get to you.” He sighs, feeling infintely tired “in any case, the big bad bat isn’t known for leaving things he doesn’t understand alone, and I’m not really looking to be a lab rat again. Zero out of ten do not recommend. Turns out being vivisected fucking hurts, man.”

“Why won’t you let me take them out for you? Besides, I’m not weak. I can hold my own just fine.”

And thats the million dollar question, isn’t it? Dannys gaze fixes upon the ill looking moon, pallor as he peers through the smog of the dingy city and into the sky. “Because he told me to wait.”

“Who?”

Clockwork. 

Clockwork told him to wait. To do the one thing he hates more than anything in the world. To do the unforgivable - to sit idle when they had Ellie. As much as he’d love to spit venom and recite every reason why the GIW needed to be taken care of much sooner rather than whenever Clockwork had in mind, he can’t. He’s - and Ancients, he’ll never forgive himself - scared. He’s scared.

Logistically, he knows he’s strong. Stronger than anyone in any of those facilities compounded. Stronger than Vlad in terms of raw power if not in wiles, he’s stronger than Pariah Dark. Danny has tested his mettle against the worst of the worst and came out on top but he’s still fucking scared. Isn’t that something? Crown prince of the Infinite Realms is scared. 

There’s no one to magically make it better. No one to lean on because he’s the strongest, he’s it. And if the strongest can’t stand up because they’re too busy having a panic attack at the sight of a lab coat then really, what use are they?

“I can’t tell you that.” He glances down to the alleyway below them. It’s filthy. Wet newspaper plastered to the pavement, old gum cemented in place like spots on a dalmatian. It looks a lot like how Danny feels most days.

Nightwing frowns. “I can help you,” he says. It sounds painfully earnest, like he believes he really, really, could. 

“That's a nice offer, Nightwing, but I can’t take it yet.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

There he is. That’s the boy the bat raised. “Can’t.”

*

The next time Dick sees Danny it isn’t in Bludhaven. 

It’s months later in her sister city, Gotham. Crime Alley, to be specific. It was during the tail end of a joint patrol with the newly minted Robin, Tim, whom he had sent back to the cave early. His eyes snagged on the figure of a young man carrying a child in the middle of the wet season, a thin thoroughly soaked through navy blue sweater clinging to him like a second skin. It was pouring down like the heavens didn’t know how to stop grieving. 

It seemed as anguished as Dick was in the immediate absence of Jason. He blinks tiredly and washes the thought away. There’s a little girl cradled in Danny’s arms with hair just as pitch black as his own, burrowing her small face in his neck, tiny arms clinging as the man himself runs his hand soothingly on her back, murmuring apologies into her hair. “I know, I know, I’m sorry Ellie, I’m sorry. It’s okay, it's- We’re out. We’re okay.”

It’s a painfully private moment, one that he feels guilty for witnessing. The girl - Ellie, sobs into Danny’s chest. It isn’t his place to watch, to witness this. All the same, he wishes he could comfort them somehow. 

[deadsetobsessions]

Gotham rained a lot more than Amity ever did.

Danny could not help but appreciate the differences. From the way the city itself curled around her inhabitants to the weather, Gotham was far darker than Amity ever managed to be.

Still, there were similarities. The screams, for one. In Amity, it was ghosts, their victims, and whichever ghostbuster of the day rocking up to rock each other’s shit. Another similarity? Danny’s inability to not get himself into troublesome shit, because he could never ignore a cry for help.

That scream was a cry for help if he’s ever heard one.

Danny cursed himself as he slipped through the alleyways, strides becoming smoother and agile than he normally walked like. He stuck to the shadows, the prickling of ghostly senses and honed vigilante instincts guiding him towards the scream. It was a man, getting stabbed by a guy in a red helmet.

Danny maintained that he was new here.

Which is why his foot connected solidly with Red Helmet's... red helmet.

"Motherfuc-" Red Helmet shouted as he was punted several feet away.

"Holy shit dude, are you good?"

Danny helped the guy up.

"Thank fuck! Back up! What took you so long?! Boss is gunna be so pissed if we're late!"

Hold up. Boss?

"Boss?"

“Black Mask, asshole! We gotta go before he decides to cut off our limbs!”

Danny yanked the guy to the side just as a bullet ricocheted off the rusted fire escape.

“Ope!”

“You’re not going anywhere.” A mechanical voice growled behind them.

“Oh fuck, Red Helmet guy.” Danny muttered.

“Shit, ya gotta run, tell boss I got caught.” The injured goon- because it was now apparent to Danny that the guy was working for someone dangerous- said. Danny appreciated the thought, but he only intervened because the guy was getting stabbed.

“Uh,” Danny hesitated. Clearly the guy had the wrong idea.

“Don’t make a move, unless you want your fucking heads blown off,” Red Helmet guy- wait, why does he feel liminal?- raised his guns. “Why don-”

Red Helmet guy was cut off by the thud of the now unconscious goon.

His helmet tilted down and then back up at Danny.

“Guess it’s just you and me,” Helmet guy sneered out. “Better tell me everything you know about Black Mask, or else you’ll get a taste of what he had.”

Danny held up his hands even though he knew he could just let the bullets phase through him. The smart thing would be to absolve himself and not get in the middle of two criminal’s beef as a civilian.

Danny’s full name, however, could have been Danny ‘Dumb Decisions’ Fenton. So, Danny practically interjected himself like an overexcited puppy at a doggy daycare.

“Okay, no need to get bloody. But uh, I have a question.”

Red Helmet cocked his head and mockingly gestured with his gun. “Sure, why not.”

Danny let as much of his midwestern accent into his voice as possible. “Who’s, uh, Black Mask?”

Red Helmet paused. Then he sighed. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“No…? I’m, uh, new in town.”

Red Helmet lowered his guns, and for some reason, Danny could tell that he was exasperated.

“Why would you even get in between a fight, dumbass? I have a gun! I coulda killed ya! He’s a criminal’”

Danny protested. Rude! “In my defense, you were stabbing him! You’re a criminal too, you know!”

“That makes it worse! You-!” Red Helmet paused. “Wait, do you even know who I am?”

Danny let his gaze wander down to the red bat-shaped logo on the guy’s chest. “Uh… Red Helmet… bat-guy?” He hazarded a guess.

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot.”

Danny gaped. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” Red Helmet put his gun back and planted his fists on his hips. “You’re an idiot. Who gets in between a vigilante and the goon of a crime lord.”

Danny crossed his arms, leveling an unimpressed look at Red Helmet. “I’ve never heard of a vigilante killing someone, Red Helmet Bat-Guy.”

“It’s Red Hood.” Red Helmet sighed, walking closer. “And I wasn’t going to kill him.” Danny scoffed.

Danny relaxed, sensing the truth coming from Red Helmet guy’s liminal aspects.

“He’ll die looking at your ugly mug,” Danny sassed. “You’re gonna get him to a hospital, right? I’ll go with you.”

“Are you midwesterners all this trusting? What if I was the goon and this guy was the vigilante?”

Red Hood hiked the goon over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Danny followed after him.

“He’s the one that told me to go running back to his boss, Red Helmet.”

“It’s Red Hood.”

“That doesn’t look like a hood.”

Danny grinned as Red Helmet grumbled. How interesting! Maybe he won’t miss Amity as much as he thought he would!

“Ugh, fine, I guess someone’s gotta watch your dumb ass so you don’t get mugged.”

“I can take care of myself!”

Hood grunted. “I guess that kick wasn’t half bad.”

Danny beamed at him. “Thanks!”

——

Danny chucked a chimichanga at Red Hood.

“Wait a minute, you’re a crime lord! Being a goon was way less illegal than being a vigilante crime lord!”

Red Hood cackled at him.

[decojellyfish]

OH MY GOD I just fell in love with the blog and not if you are taking requests but if so I would like to suggest a guard dog!Ghost and Abandoned kitten!reader where price maybe adopt the reader and ghost take care of her??

I am so sorry this took so long! But thank you SO much for being my first request/ask! This idea is really cute, I'm sorry it's a bit short, but I hope you like it! Also, I hope this makes up for the angst fic about Dragon! Price lol

------

Bonbon

Hybrid AU! TF141 (Retired) Guard dog! Ghost x Kitten! Reader x Owner! Price !!No Romance For Obvious Purposes!!

SFW ~ Fluff

Warnings: None!

───♡───────────── Beginning

10:30 AM. That was the time John Price would go grocery shopping every day. Today’s list was a few ingredients for tonight’s dinner, more rawhide for his rescue dog, Ghost, and paper towels. What he didn’t expect to be suddenly added to the list, after he had just bought and paid for his groceries, was a kitten. Today, Price had to take a different route to the grocery store. The usual trail he would take was under heavy construction, much to his dismay. But he still managed to get to the store. About 4 minutes after leaving the store, he passed by a short alleyway. Now, no one ever really pays any mind to alleys. Until a noise comes from said hypothetical alleyway. And that’s just what happened. A little grunt, followed by a small cry, and then the sound of a takeout box crashing onto the ground. It made the retired captain stop in his tracks and turn his head to look into the dark alley. He could only hear tiny little munches now, and he could only make out the tiniest little figure in the void. Price made sure to be careful with his steps, he could tell that this little thing could be easily startled. Then he finally realized what he had come across.

It was a you! A little kitten and a very hungry one at that. You were munching on someone’s thrown-out, moldy, spaghetti, your tiny little fangs doing the best they could at tearing the pasta apart. It didn’t seem like you’d been there for that long, considering how young you looked. You remained in a little cardboard box, that appeared to be your makeshift home. It was filthy and withering away, like the blanket you had too. And your clothes. And you in general. You were a very dirty kitten. It didn’t help that your being hungry all the time caused you to be a messy eater.

By the time you had realized a big thing had snuck up behind you, your face was already coated in marinara. You snapped your head to look at the big creature and quickly folded your ears back and fluffed your little tail up. You hissed with all your might, knowing that you were probably the scariest thing this large figure, well over five times your size, had ever seen. Price only looked at you, taking in your starving appearance. Eating tossed food was unhealthy for a young thing like you. Surely, he had to have something on him that would make you trust him. He set his bags of groceries down and searched his pockets. He was relieved when he found one of those strawberry bonbons in his back pocket. You know, the ones that only grandmas seem to have. He unwrapped it and set it down in front of your hissing form. He would then grab his bags and slowly back away, watching for any kind of movement that came from you. After what felt like ten minutes, you would sneak up to the bonbon. Cautiously, you would reach your little hand out to it and snatch it right into your mouth. Price was almost terrified, thinking you would choke on it with how disparate you were for this little piece of candy. But thankfully, you didn’t. You would sit there and just let the hard candy melt in your mouth. This tasted so much better than moldy pasta. You looked up at the guy who gave you this candy, reaching up and making grabby hands for more. Price was relieved at your reaction, taking it as an okay that you wanted to be picked up. So he scooped you up into his arms and began the journey home.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ghost could already smell his owner through the door, peeved that he was a little later than arriving home on his usual time. But something was off about Price’s smell. There was an additional scent, something he’d never smelled before. It was a rancid smell, especially overwhelming due to his strong nose. Whatever Price was bringing home, it needed to either be cleaned or immediately disposed of. The door opened, and Price would quickly set his bags of groceries down before going into the bathroom. Ghost would pause, processing that he’d just seen his owner with what looked like a tiny human. Had he been seeing a mistress of some sort??? Ghost would’ve known, he would’ve smelled some perfume on his owner by now. He continued to think about it while he took the groceries and began to put them away in the kitchen.

Price had drawn a bath, ensuring the water was warm but not scalding. You were sitting on the bath rug, looking around the bathroom you were in. The large dog man sitting in the doorway wasn’t that subtle, so you looked at him too. You looked at him for a long time, mostly because he’d been staring at you for a while. It was like a staring contest between the two of you. “That should be good.” Price said to himself, turning around to you. He watched the silent stares between you and Ghost, causing him to chuckle before he picked you up and gingerly set you down in the warm, bubbly water. You mewed and squealed in protest like any other cat would. Price would quietly shush you as he began to mush shampoo into your hair and tail.

After your little bath, during which you spent a good chunk of it verbally disapproving until you realized it wasn’t doing anything. Now, you were content. You’d been swaddled up in a large towel, your hair air-drying as you rested on the couch. Price could tell you were happy because you sounded like an active car engine. You were purring, and you were purring loud. You hadn’t felt this warm and cozy since… well, you’ve never been warm or cozy once in your life. You were always cold, hungry, and never comfortable. Now, you had this random guy clean all the dust, dirt, and grime off of you and now he was preparing food for you. And yeah, this big dog who’s constantly trying to figure out why you suddenly appeared in his home. But you were willing to put up with him. Eventually, Price came back with a small plate filled with soft foods. He would spoon-feed you a bit of squishy rice to which you happily ate it up, you were starving. You would loudly purr through your little munches, causing Price to chuckle. “This must be a lot better than the rubbish you were stuck with earlier, yeah?” You wouldn’t respond, but still purred and opened your mouth for another bite, to which Price readily spoon-fed you some more.

Ring ring! The sound surprised all three of you, Price was getting a phone call. “Agh, work…” He grumbled when he checked the caller ID. “Ghost, why don’t you feed the wee one for a bit, hm?” He handed the plate and small spoon to his big scary dog, to which, he begrudgingly agreed as it looked like he had no choice. Ghost looked down at you as Price stepped away to take the call. You looked up at him, both of you resuming your staring contest. Until you meowed, impatiently. Ghost rolled his eyes, hastily feeding you a spoonful of pudding. The sweetness of the dessert surprised you, you’d never had a dessert that was fresh, cold, and not coated in mold or garbage juices. You immediately meowed again, demanding more. This big monster of a dog couldn’t believe he was being bossed around by this little kitten! But alas, he fed you another spoonful of pudding, then rice, until the whole plate was empty.

About 10 minutes later, Price returned to the living room. He was pleasantly surprised by the scene that beheld him. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping soundly while Ghost was curled around you and loudly snoring. Price could only chuckle to himself, shaking his head before he grabbed a blanket. He placed it over you and Ghost and relaxed on the couch as well.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ghost woke up, immediately alert when he couldn’t smell you. He could hear Price in the kitchen, cooking up dinner for that night. The dog-hybrid got up and began his search for you, faintly being able to smell you from down the hall. Peering into Price’s bedroom, he could see that the television was on. It was set to a children’s cartoon channel, and then he saw you. You were swimming in one of Price’s shirts, making biscuits out of his fluffy blankets as you happily watched cartoons. He would walk up to the bed, sitting on the side of it. His weight caused the bed to dip on one side, making you almost roll over if it wasn’t for Ghost panicking and swiftly holding you in place before he moved to the center of the bed, balancing the weight out. It didn’t phase you, you just went back to making biscuits. It made Ghost chuckle, your nonchalant-ness. Price entered the bedroom after about an hour, ready to announce that dinner was ready. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw you and Ghost playing together. He was using one of his old toys that he had held onto since he was a puppy, playing tug of war with you. Obviously, he was going easy on you, his grasp on the toy limp while you were gripping the toy between your teeth like your life depended on winning. But it made him smile when he saw how happy you would get every time you won each round.

But he would definitely make it harder to win when you grew up.

───♡───────────── End

If you have any requests or asks, feel free to submit them! And thank you again, anonymous, for being my first request!

[vampirq]

can you do a smut where jinx is struggling to stay quiet x dom reader

ALMOST | JINX | 1.2K WC | 18+

“i’m sorry toots, i really did not see that alarm right there!”

“it’s fuckin’ fine jinx. just stay quiet, the enforcers are still hot on our ass.”

the two of you are squished in between a tight alleyway, jinx’s back flushed with your chest. it all started when jinx had the grand idea to yet again break into one of piltovers’ penthouses. the plan was being executed perfectly until just as you guys were about to escape, jinx backed into an emergency alarm. alerting all enforcers there’s been an intruder, and putting the two of you in a chase.

you run your hands up and down jinx’s sides to help soothe her nerves. even if it was her fault, you don’t wanna stress your girl out. she presses into your loving touch more and tilts her neck to the side, permitting you to give her kisses. you give in, leaving short, sweet pecks up and down her neck while wrapping your hands slowly around her waist.

jinx lets out a small giggle at the feeling of your lips brushing her neck. just her laugh alone throws you into a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from lust to adoration. her body melts into yours as you steady yourself with a firm grip on her waist. your hand travels up over her boobs, barely grazing her nipples but it’s enough for her to let out a small whimper.

“what’s wrong, baby?” you tease, your voice low and steady. “you’re not gonna lose your cool are you?thought you liked a little danger.”

her breath hitches, and she lays her head back on your shoulder. “i do,” she stutters, her voice shaky but defiant. “just not with the enforcers just around the corner.”

you chuckle softly, your hand breaking in her waistband, “then you better stay quiet for me.”

jinx nods, signaling that you’re right and spreads her legs just a bit wider so you have better access.

“that’s my girl,” is all you say before lowering your hand to play with her clothed clit. you run your fingers up and down the damp fabric, eliciting those sweet sounds from jinx. her body jerks slightly at the sensation. you press your lips back to her ear, your breath sending shivers down her spine.

“you’re already so wet, and i haven’t even fucked you properly.” you murmur, tone laced with amusement.

jinx bites down on her lip trying to stifle the moan that threatens to escape. her hand grips your forearm tightly, both to steady herself and keep your arm right where it is.

you grin against her neck, your fingers applying just the right amount of pressure as you move in slow, steady circles. each movement causes jinx to squirm and whimper in your arms, her efforts to stay quiet only making this moment more intoxicating.

“good girl,” you praise, your words come out after each peck on her neck. “so perfect for me. just focus on me, alright? nothing else matters.”

she moves her hips in sync with your hand, occasionally rocking back and forth. “please ..” her voice is so faint, you almost miss it.

“please what baby?” you hum.

“need you, your fingers, please.” her eyes squeeze shut, cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

a sly grin tugs at your lips as you press your lips to her temple. “such a good girl for me, using your words and everything.” you whisper, “all you have to do was ask.”

you pull her panties to the side and dip your finger into her wetness. her walls immediately clench around the feeling, sucking you in with every thrust.

“so wet baby, you’ve been wanting this have you?” you tease.

“yes, yes! oh fuck, you feel so good.” she yelps, her voice loud enough to echo through the narrow alleyway. your hand shoots up to cover her mouth, silencing her before she can let out another noise.

“shh, jinx. you wanna get us caught?” you growl, against her neck.

she shakes her head frantically, her wide eyes looking up at you, filled with both apology and need. a string of muffled apologies spills out beneath your hand, her words tumbling over the other.

you hum in approval, curling your finger just right to have her body fall loose against you. your arm wraps snug around her waist to keep her standing, while the other hand pounds relentlessly into her sopping cunt. you add a second finger into her, completely entranced in the way she moves with you. her back arches at the feeling of being so full, those little uh uh uh’s echoing through your muffled hand.

her soft cries vibrate against your hand, the two of you so lost in the moment until—

“did you hear that?”

your heart skips a beat as the enforcer’s voice cuts through the air. jinx’s body tenses against you, her movements halting completely. you pull your hand away from her soaked heat, but you keep a hand tight around her mouth, signaling her to keep quiet.

“probably just a rat.” another enforcer mumbles, their footsteps growing louder.

“nah .. it sounded different .. like voices,” the first enforcer insists.

jinx’s eyes are wide with panic, her breathing shallow and rapid beneath your hand. you press a reassuring kiss to her temple, leaning down to whisper, “it’s okay baby, we’re gonna get out of this.”

the footsteps draw closer, and you press yourself and jinx further into the shadows of the alleyway, your heart pounding so hard you wonder if she could hear it.

you hold your breath as the enforcers’ footsteps echo louder, their boots clinking against the cobblestone. jinx whines in your hand out of fear, in which you respond by rubbing your hand up and down her waist, silently reassuring her.

“i swear it was coming from this direction.” the first enforcer says, his voice laced with suspicion.

“yeah well .. i don’t see anything,” the other grumbles. “probably just the wind or some drunk. let’s keep moving before we waste anymore time.”

“fine.” the first mutters and you hear their steps starting to fade out.

just when you think you’re in the clear, there’s the sound of metal clanking. an enforcer kicking a trash can nearby, hoping to draw whatever was hiding, out. jinx’s breath hitches against your hand once more, and her eyes widen with fear, you feel her grip on your jacket tighten.

you keep your other arm snug around her waist, holding her close, and lean in to whisper so quietly only she can hear. “they’re just leaving, baby. stay still for me. you��re doing so good.” her lashes flutter and she nods slightly.

the seconds drag on like hours as the enforcers linger. their conversations growing muffled and distant and the footsteps are no longer audible.

you wait a beat longer just to be sure before releasing your tight grip on jinx. she lets out a shaky exhale her chest heaving against yours. she turns around to face you, her big blue eyes meeting yours. you give her a warm smile, bringing your hand to caress her cheek.

the two of your bring your foreheads to touch together, “fuck,” she whispers, “that was close.”

“too close,” you mutter, brushing your fingers over her braid. “you okay?”

she nods, her cheeks still flushed and there’s a glint of something playful in her eyes. despite the danger the two of you just escaped.

“guess we make a pretty good team under pressure, hm?” she teases, her voice wavering slightly.

you smirk, bring your arms around her waist once again. “you have no idea how good we are together baby.” you say, pulling her in for a deep, loving kiss.

[gay-dorito-dust]

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pictures dick had sent you, all of Jason as redhood obviously, as they all looked as though your friend was trying to take a good picture of your sweet Jason…only for it to look as though he was capturing a cryptid.

They were blurry and out of focus they all you could see what the colour red. While other photos made his eyes look as though they were glowing, like he was possessed as he stood his full height in dark alleyways.

Jason as redhood was terrifying, however to you he was an overgrown puppy dog who’d get concerned if he accidentally caused a bruise to blossom upon your skin.

Yet you knew that he was extremely feared amongst many criminals and crime lords, so pictures that made him look as though the devil incarnate was bound to occur, but all of the ones dick sent were silly enough for you to save to have a chuckle at over later.

Which meant having a very curious Jason practically spread across your lap trying to see what you found funny, only to see blurred pictures of himself staring back at him. ‘What’s so funny about really shitty, low resolution photos dick took?’ He asks you.

‘They make you look like a mythical beast, kinda like Bigfoot, the mothman or even the chupacabra.’ You replied and Jason only raised a brow at you and pout his lips as he scoffs. ‘Something that shouldn’t exist but does?’ He asks.

You kiss his cheek. ‘No, something to be believed in, something that defies all logic, my little redhood.’ You add another kiss to his cheek, making him smile as he went back to cuddling himself into your side. ‘Yeah…your little red hood who so happens to be a six foot tall guy.’ He says sarcastically but kisses your jaw, smiling softly against it. ‘Love you chipmunk.’ He whispers.

‘Love to you jaybird.’ You murmured back to him as you kiss his forehead, lingering there for a little while as you smile at the silly photos.