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bigskydreaming · 3 years ago

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Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?

So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....

Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....

So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.

And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”

And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”

And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”

And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.

Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.

“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.

“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”

Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”

��Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids.

“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.

“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”

“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint?

What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?

Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower.

“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”

He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”

As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes.

“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”

Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.

“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”

He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”

Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”

Signal just snorts.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”

“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”

“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”

“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”

Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”

“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”

“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”

“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”

“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.

“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”

Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”

“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”

“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer.

“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”

“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”

“You did what?”

“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”

Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.

“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”

“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.

“Plus he bribes better.”

“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”

Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”

“Its called an homage, 4chan.”

“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."

Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.

“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”

Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”

Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.

“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”

“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”

Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”

“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”

“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.

Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”

“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”

“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.

“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”

“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”

Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest.

“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”

“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”

Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”

“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”

Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.

“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.

She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”

“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.

“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.

“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”

She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”

“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.

Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.

Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.

“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”

Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”

“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.

“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”

Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”

“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”

“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.

Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.

Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:

“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”

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randomshyperson · 4 years ago

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Wanda Maximoff / Reader - The One Where You Punch Tony Stark - Chapter Three

Gif is not mine, but i love it.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4 || Read on AO3 (Complete Work)

Summary: When the rumors that you punched Tony Stark in the face spread around your school, some interesting events unfolded.

Warnings: 18+; Enemies to Lovers; Angry Sex; Underage Sex; High School AU; Violence; Fights; Inappropriate language; Fluff and Smut; minor mentions of Reader x Carol and Reader x Jessica Jones.

Notes: This work was already finished on AO3, but i forgot to continue this on Tumblr. I hope everyone who thought that was a one shot, enjoy the rest of it.

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Chapter Three - Sometimes it’s just a date

You don't like water polo. Actually, you don't like watching the water polo team.

With next week being finals week, you would like to have a quiet period. But then, the track and field and water polo finals are making the athletes restless, and you have to deal with the excitement of your colleagues around the halls.

Maybe Natasha is right, you are pretty grumpy when it comes to socializing.

Participation in a sports team is mandatory from the first year on. Principal Thanos had approved this rule as an "incentive to healthy living," and only students with a medical condition could get away with it. You considered falsifying a medical history many times, but eventually you agreed to join the lacrosse team. You kept your performance average, just to maintain your grade. And even when the coach saw potential in you, you told her that you had no interest in participating in the championships.

And then you were sitting on the team bench, watching your team play on the field while the crowd cheered as you watched. All sports were encouraged, after all, usually all students attended all kinds of games. You watched Natasha wave to you from the stands, and you smiled back.

You were almost falling asleep, then a chorus of startled exclamations coming from the audience startled you, and you looked quickly at the field.

Your teammate, Gamora, suffered a foul and was being helped off the field by her teammates. You looked down the field with a frown, hoping that she was all right. But then she was taken off the field on a stretcher, her knee bandaged. It didn't take long before the coach came to you and signaled that you were going to have to replace the girl.

Letting out a grumble of protest, you stood up, grabbing the bat the coach offered you, and stepped onto the field.

Your approach to playing was interesting. You were aggressive and impatient, but efficient. You scored three points, and tried not to be bothered by the attention you were getting. And then, when your team won, you tried not to push the girls who jumped on you during the celebration.

As you joined the team in the locker room, the coach asked to speak to you privately.

- I wanted to say that I was surprised by your performance, but in fact I always knew what you could do. - She commented as soon as you were alone in her room, inside the locker room. You shifted the weight of your feet, awkwardly.

- Thanks, I guess. - You say, and the teacher smiles tenderly at you.

- Tell me, Y/L, do you have plans for college? - she asks, leaning on her desk.

- Not really, Coach. - You say. - I sent some applications, but after my suspension, I don't think I will have much of a chance.

- You know that something like a position on a regular team can count in your favor. - She comments, and you shrug.

- I have only played in two games so far. - You hit back. She smiles.

- Oh yes, and you performed flawlessly. - She says. - What I'm saying is, I could write you a letter of recommendation. If you commit to play with us until the end of the school year, of course.

You frown, thinking about it.

- I wouldn't want to take Gamora's place.

The teacher laughs, shrugging her shoulders.

- Don't worry about it, we can arrange the team for you to play together. Besides that, unfortunately Gamora will not participate in at least two games because of her injury. And she will be happy to know that you are helping the team to win.

You nod, putting your hands in your pockets.

- Okay, I'll take it then. - You say. - Only for the letter of recommendation of course. - You joke, and the coach goes to one of the drawers. She pulls out a first team uniform. - This is yours. - She hands it to you. - And please try to control your temper on the field.

The coach winks at you, and you laugh slightly, accepting the uniform. You nod slightly and walk out of the room toward the showers.

- I can't believe you're a jock now! - Natasha jokes when you tell her you joined the team. You laugh, pushing her slightly. You are sitting at the tables in the outdoor cafeteria during the second break.

- Please don't say that. - You say playfully. Nat just smiles, taking a bite out of her snack.

- But anyway. - she says after a moment. - Are you still going to the concert on Saturday?

You let out a sigh and Nat looks at you curiously.

- I'll tell you something, and you promise not to hate me?

Nat laughs, imitating a promise sign, and you shake your head, smiling.

- Go ahead, say it. You're making me curious. - She asks. You laugh, trying to build up courage.

- I have to tell Carol I'm not interested. - You begin, and Nat raises her eyebrows in surprise. - I'm liking someone else.

- Wow, Jones really got to you? - She assumes, and you laugh, denying it with your head. - Wait, there's a third girl? My God, you're unstoppable.

You laugh ruefully, and Nat follows you. You swallow dryly before speaking and look at the table where you are sitting.

- I am in love with Wanda Maximoff.

Nat lets out a surprised exclamation, and then laughs, thinking you were joking. And then she notices your expression, and widens her eyes in surprise.

- My God, you are serious! - she exclaims. But then she smiles at you, and puts her hand on your forearm. - Hey, I don't have a problem with that. I was just a little surprised.

- Really? - you ask with a sigh of relief. Nat smiles at you.

- Now explain to me how this happened. - She asks, cupping her face in her left hand as she looks at you intently. You take a sip of your soda before speaking.

- Actually, this has been going on for some time. - You confess. - Me and Wanda... well. The first person who knew I liked girls was her. - You tell, and Nat lets out a surprised exclamation, but does not interrupt you. - We have been in the same class since elementary school. When we were in eighth grade, she saw me kissing Mary Jane Watson behind the soccer fields. I asked her not to tell anyone, and she never did. - You say, and Nat listens attentively. - And then she became who she is now, and any interaction we had seemed like we were going to jump around each other's necks at any moment. - You sighed. - And then, after the soccer game, I gave her an orgasm against the locker room wall.

- Wait, what? - exclaimed Natasha in surprise. - My god, you had sex with Wanda Maximoff? - She practically screamed and you raised your hands and waved for her to keep her voice down. Nat laughed with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. - I can't believe it. I don't even know what to think about it.

You mumbled with embarrassment, looking away.

- Just keep it down, please. - You asked, and Nat laughed.

- Are you two in some kind of secret relationship now? - she asked, and you laughed ironically.

- Not at all. - You say. - She completely ignored me after that. And then we argued during Ms. Hill's class.

- Shit, I'm sorry about that. But are you still willing to take this anywhere? Since you are going to dismiss Carol.

You blink slightly, thoughtfully. Then you shrug.

- I'm only going to dismiss Carol because it's not fair to be with her while thinking about another girl. - You explain. - And I don't expect Wanda to want anything to do with me anyway.

- I see. - Nat says, giving you a sad smile. - But I think she would be very stupid to let someone like you slip away.

You smile sadly, and you go back to eating. Before long the break is over, and you share Nat's displeasure at having to go to the health class.

Health classes are awkward. At least now that you and Natasha were friends, you were distracted by her jokes. Professor Wade Wilson was known for his humorous and completely unfiltered attitude during class. He made jokes and pranks, and didn't care much if the students were actually learning something. You remember when you were learning about the effects of alcohol on the body and he brought a bottle of whiskey and shared it among the students. Counselor Fury was not happy at all.

But occasionally you learned very important things in class, like how to clean wounds made in laboratories, for example.

You figured he would follow the programmed curriculum, but you should know better. Wilson came into the room, sat down at his own desk and signaled for everyone to go to their seats. Nat exchanged an amused look with you.

- Good morning, brats. - He said as he took something out of his pocket. The room erupted in giggles and comments as he held up a rubber penis and vagina. - Let's talk about sex today.

- Finally, eh Mr. Wilson! - shouted Tony Stark ironically, causing the class to laugh. You saw him give Pepper Potts a mischievous look, while the girl just smiled and fiddled with her hair.

- Well, I need to teach you how to put on condoms first. - says the professor with a slight irony in his voice. - Because of course you are all innocent in this matter.

The class laughed, but you were distracted scribbling in your notebook. The professor leaned over to read the attendance list on his desk.

- I need two of you to demonstrate your knowledge to me. - He says. - Stark and Y/L/N come forward please.

Nat nudges you with her elbow and you frown. She nods toward the desk, and Professor Wilson is already looking at you. You mumble a "shit" before getting up and walking to the front of the room.

- Please demonstrate. - He says handing a condom to you and one to Tony, who gives you an angry look, and you roll your eyes. Tony moves toward the plastic vagina, but Wilson laughs, putting his hand in your way. - The other prosthesis, Mr. Stark.

You watch Tony's red cheeks with disbelief, and you also hear the giggles that circulate around the room. Tony quickly opens the condom with his teeth and puts on the rubber penis with his shaking hands. Then he turns to the class, putting his hands in his pockets.

- Who can tell me what Mr. Stark did wrong? - asks the professor, but no one raises their hand. You wonder if people just don't want to say that Tony Stark was wrong, or if they really didn't know. - Really, guys, nobody?

- He bit the package, sir. - You grumble, feeling all the stares on you. Wilson lets out a happy exclamation as he looks at you.

- Yes, exactly, Miss Y/L/N. - He says, looking around the room again. - When you bite the condom wrapper, you can damage the condom, and consequently, take away its effectiveness. The class takes note of the information passed on. - Now, Y/N, please. Demonstrate how to use the female condom.

You let out a sigh, and turn to the table, without preventing other students from seeing what you are doing. Quickly, you open the package and put the condom on the prosthetic. Professor Wilson lets out a chuckle, congratulating you for handling it correctly, but as you turn around, you hear Tony Stark comment loudly:

- With so much practice in real life, it should be easy. - He says, and the class bursts into giggles.

- Stark. - The professor says with a scolding tone, but you assume a wry posture.

- Don't be like that, Tony. I'm sure Steve will be happy to let you practice with him. - You fight back, and the laughter swirls around you.

- Look, here you bitch... - Tony steps forward and the professor stands in front of him, with a serious expression. You think this is the first time you've seen him angry.

- You two come with me immediately.

And so you end up sitting in Nicky Fury's office again, with Tony Stark in the chair next to you. You both stand with your arms crossed and looking straight ahead as Professor Wilson explains the confusion in his class. Fury nods and says that he will handle everything, and the professor gives him an understanding smile before leaving the room.

- I have been waiting to talk to you two. - says Fury as he sits down at his desk. - Who would like to start?

- I have nothing to say. - says Tony in a harsh tone. You want to punch him again.

- That's too bad, Mr. Star. - says Fury. - You will stay here until someone tells me the nature of this conflict.

You let out an irritated snort.

- I've told you before, Fury. - You say. - Stark is an arrogant piece of shit who has no respect for anyone.

- You're fucking insane, girl! - Tony cuts you off, and you refuse to look at him. Fury lets out a sigh.

- Please, I will not tolerate this kind of verbal aggression in my office. - He says. - If you don't answer me, I will simply recommend that you both be expelled.

You and Tony are silent, both with furious expressions. But then you remember the promise you made to the coach, and let out a sigh.

- I punched Tony in the face at his eighteenth birthday party. - You confess, surprising them both.

A moment passes, and you think Fury is finally going to expel you, but then Tony speaks up next to you.

- I provoked her. - He confesses. You look surprised, and Fury just waits for Tony to clarify. He lets out an impatient sigh before speaking. - I followed her out and said some rude stuff.

Fury is thoughtful for a few minutes, and then he makes some notes in his notebook. You began to drum your fingers against your thigh, uncomfortable.

- Would you like to tell me exactly why you did that Tony? - Fury asked.

Tony let out an impatient grunt. And many moments passed before he spoke again.

- I don't know, okay? - He says, running his hands through his hair nervously. - I only saw her kissing a girl and then I was outside. I didn't want her at my party.

- I should have known you were a homophobic jerk. - You say, and Tony tells you to go fuck yourself. Fury warns you both again.

- Tony, I've heard rumors about your relationship with Mr. Rogers. - Fury begins and Stark straightens his posture, his face red. You think the conversation is getting interesting. - Don't you think, perhaps, your reaction to seeing Miss Y/L/N has something to do with it?

- I don't want to talk about it. - Tony grumbles. You stand there thoughtfully, understanding what Fury meant. He had suggested that the only reason Tony hated you so much, besides being a complete idiot, was because he rejected his own sexuality.

- We're going to talk about this privately, Mr. Star. - Announces Fury. - That will be my last warning to you two. No more fighting. If I hear that you two have renewed conflicts, I will recommend your immediate expulsion.

You and Tony nod, and Fury releases you with a detention card. You grumble, but leave the room, closing the door while Tony and Fury stand talking in private.

You never imagined that you would see Pietro Maximoff in detention. But when you thought about it, it actually made sense.

Sitting in the back of the room, you were even more surprised when he looked up at you, and gave you a shy smile. You blinked in surprise and looked away.

Professor Charles Xavier only taught history to the senior year, which left him with many free periods throughout the day, so he was also responsible for the detention class. It worked well, since it seemed that no one could hide anything from her, and detention ended up being quite efficient.

He came into the classroom with a book in his hand, and sat down, staying for many minutes without saying anything at all. And then he asked everyone to pair up, and you looked incredulously at Pietro Maximoff as he sat down in front of you.

- You're kidding me, right? - you said as soon as he arrived. Peter laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

Before Pietro could say anything, Professor Xavier announced that the class should make a short summary of the last subject he taught in class, which drew a disgruntled gasp from the few students present.

You started to take the materials out of the backpack and put them on the table.

- I wanted to thank you. - Pietro said as the professor sat down. The class was buzzing with murmurs, all the students talking about their work, and Charles didn't seem to care, focused on his book. You looked at Pietro with your eyebrows raised, and he smiled wryly. - For helping me that day.

- It's a natural reaction, Maximoff. - You retort, looking away from him and start writing in your notebook. Pietro chuckles.

- Yeah, I know. - he says. - But still, thank you. The nurse told me that if you hadn't been so quick, I might have had an injury that would have prevented me from playing football.

You shrugged, not knowing what to say. You were silent for a few moments, each concentrated on his summary, and then Pietro stopped writing and you felt him looking at you.

- What is it now? - you asked without taking your eyes off the paper.

- Do you like music? - You raise your eyebrows incredulously as you look at him.

- Everybody likes music, what kind of question is that?

Pietro laughs awkwardly.

- Sorry, you're right. - he says humorously. - I actually meant, do you know "The Panthers"? They are a rock band. They are playing in town on Saturday and…

- Are you asking me out? - You blink in confusion. Pietro shrugs.

- As a thank you. It's not a date. - He adds quickly when he sees your expression. - I'm going to the show with some friends.

- I'm also going to the show. - You retort, and Pietro assumes a surprised but happy expression.

- Great, we can see each other there then!

- I guess. - You grumble, turning your attention back to the summary. Pietro smiles, and a moment passes before he hands you a small piece of paper with a phone number.

- Text me when you get there. So it'll be easier for us to meet. - he suggested.

You blinked in surprise, but remembering that Fury had told you to avoid conflict, you just put the paper in your pocket, and you and Pietro finished the exercise. He handed your summaries to the teacher, and sat down in front of you again. You left your hands in your pockets as he turned to you.

- What did you do to be here anyway? - you asked. Pietro stretched out his legs, leaning his back against the wall.

- I followed your lead. - He said humorously, and you frowned uncomprehendingly. He laughed, then clarified. - I punched Tony during practice.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

- Wow, I didn't see that one coming. - You say. - May I ask why?

- He said some things about my sister. - Pietro says, locking his jaw as if remembering the conflict. - And then I punched him in the mouth. - He grimaces and imitates the move with his hand, making you laugh slightly.

- What did he say? - You can't help the question from escaping your lips. Pietro doesn't seem to mind though, shrugging his shoulders.

- Stupid comments about her, sex stuff. - he says. - We were training and he decided he was free to talk about her body to everyone on the team.

You swallowed your anger, not wanting to show it to Pietro, choosing only to nod.

- When he does it with other girls is it okay then? - you tease without holding back. Pietro frowns, denying it with his head.

- Of course not. - he says, and straightens up. - Look, I know you have an opinion about me. But I'm not a complete idiot. I don't treat girls that way.

- Oh, right. - You say it with irony. Pietro laughs, knowing exactly what you're talking about.

- I am serious. - he says. - I know what the school says about me. I don't like commitment, and I've been with a lot of girls. But I didn't cheat on any of them. - He clarifies, shrugging his shoulders. - And I don't treat them like objects.

- Congratulations for doing the minimum. - You say a bit harshly, and Pietro laughs.

You fall silent again, and then Professor Xavier dismisses the class.

Pietro waves and smiles at you as you leave detention, and you think that maybe you have been teleported to a parallel reality.

Carol picks you up at your house. You both put on your leather jackets, and she thinks it' s pretty hot.

The Panthers' concert is very crowded, and it is held in an open field on the edge of town. When you arrive, Carol holds your hand to lead you to your group of friends. You don't mind.

You hug everyone, and mention that you like Thor's new haircut, who had cut his long hair and was wearing an earring in his left ear. You were talking for several minutes in the food cart area, since the show was going to take a while to start.

Then Pietro Maximoff saw you and waved excitedly, and his friends looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and incredulity. Natasha laughed softly in your ear before he approached.

- So glad you could make it! - he said cheerfully. You decided not to mention his choice of clothes, since Pietro came with the team jacket.

- Hi Pietro. - You greet awkwardly, but he looks cheerful, and greets all of your friends with a smile.

- Hey, you're owls, aren't you? - He says. - I've seen you at state when we played there last year!

Your friends smile and nod politely, and then Pietro looks around, and waves. A group of people join you all next. You feel your body tense up the moment Wanda Maximoff walks up to you, and then a deep irritation hits you as you notice a tall boy with his arms around her. You think you have seen him before in geography class. Also in the group are your classmates Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, and Peter Parker, the last being a freshman. You barely register the words of introduction that Pietro makes, your attention completely on Wanda, who looks surprised and slightly embarrassed to see you.

Your friends greet Pietro's group, and you look away from Wanda to pay attention to his words.

- If you guys don't mind, can we all stay together? - Pietro suggests, and you want to scream that you can't bear to stand next to the boy holding Wanda without strangling him, but your friends agree, looking excited to interact with new people.

- Let's stay in the north stands, it's better to see. - Said Valkyrie signaling the direction, the group agreed and you started walking. Natasha hugged Clint and gave you a suggestive nod in the direction of Wanda, which made you roll your eyes in humor. And then Carol threw her arm over your shoulder, and you wanted to laugh at the deadly expression Wanda threw at you before looking forward. Carol didn't notice.

When you arrived at the chosen area, you sat down on the grass. The group was well-mixed, and everyone seemed to be talking to each other. You felt Wanda's gaze on your back, but you refused to look at her. Thor and Bucky handed out the snacks that they had bought with the group, and as you drank your soda, you felt Carol's hand on your thigh.

And then she kissed you, and you knew you had to talk to her. You asked her to walk with you, and you walked back to the entrance of the show, which was now completely empty.

It was quick, and impressive easy. Carol smiled and said that everything was fine, and said again that you never made promises to each other. She gave you a kiss on the cheek and went back to the group. You told her you would buy some candy before you went back.

When you reached the snack bar area, someone pulled you behind a pillar.

- I want to talk to you. - Wanda said angrily. You rolled your eyes impatiently, putting distance between your bodies.

- I'm all ears. - You said with irony.

- I don't want you dating anyone else.

You let out an incredulous laugh.

- You've got to be kidding me. - You spoke in anger. - Are you even listening to what you're saying now?

- Why are you going out with that girl? - Wanda asks in the same tone.

- You're a damn hypocrite, you know that? -You accuse her, moving closer. -Wanting to impose demands when you're having sex with that jerk.

Wanda rolls her eyes, and you think you might explode with rage. And then you grab her around the waist and push her against the pillar behind her. Wanda lets out a surprised exclamation and her gaze falls directly to your mouth.

- You think I don't know how you feel, don't you, Wanda? - You whisper, looking at her with a mixture of seriousness and desire. - Tell me, do you pretend it's me touching you when you're with him?

Wanda lets out a sigh, but lifts her head, not responding. You let out a wry laugh, and then you press your knee firmly against her core, and she shivers and lets out a low groan, closing her eyes tightly.

- Don't forget to moan my name tonight. - You say it against her ear, and then let go.

You walk back to the group, feeling hot and bothered. You exchange a look with Natasha, but say nothing.

Wanda comes back a little later, and during the entire show, you feel her looking at you.

You refuse Carol's ride when the show ends. She waves with a smile, and leaves. And then you wave goodbye to everyone, and decide to leave by bus. You liked public transportation because it helped you to think while you looked out the window.

- Be careful, troublemaker. - asks Nat as she gives you a hug goodbye. She is sleeping at Bruce's house and will not accompany you on the way back.

Pietro has had a few too many beers, and gives you a tight hug when he says goodbye, saying that the night was incredible. You laugh at his reaction. You don't say goodbye to Wanda.

And then you are walking to the bus stop, with your headphones on, and you almost stumble in shock when you feel someone touching your shoulder.

- Fuck, girl! - You complain as you turn around. - What is it now?- Go on a date with me. - Wanda says looking at you.

- What?

- Go on a date with me. - She repeats, smiling.

You blush, and look down at the floor, suddenly feeling very warm. You wave your hands inside your jacket pockets.

- Now?

Wanda nods, and you bite back a smile on your lips.

- Okay. - You agree.

You turn and sit down at the bus stop. Wanda sits quietly next to you. You raise your hand and take out one of your headphones, offering it to Wanda. She smiles when she accepts, and you listen to some music together while you wait for the bus.

Since the vast majority of places in town were closed at this time, you took Wanda to a place that wouldn't be.

When you worked at the junkyard, you discovered many interesting places when you had to pick up equipment for your boss. One of these places was the city's port.

You knew that there was a secluded area of the municipal harbor with an incredible view of the sea, and so you guided Wanda through the bars and down the concrete path. You sat on the edge, your feet dangling a few feet from the ocean below.

- How did you find this place? - she asks, staring at the landscape.

- Working at the junkyard made me explore the city. - You answer also looking straight ahead.

You are silent for a moment before you ask:

- What should we talk about, Wanda?

- Anything. - She says. - Or nothing at all.

You smile.

- I don't know what is going on between us. - You confess, and Wanda lets out a sigh.

She says nothing and you almost give up trying to talk about your relationship, and then she puts her hand on top of yours, looking at the ocean in front of you.

- I'll tell you one thing, and you promise not to freak out, okay? - she asks, and you nod.

Wanda looks down at her own lap, and takes a deep breath, as if she is taking courage.

- I think I'm in love with you. - She confesses, and you feel your heart race. - It's been a while, actually. I guess I just realized it now.

- How long?

- Do you remember when I saw you kissing Mary Watson in the eighth grade? - She asks and you nod. - I just... I didn't know why it bothered me. And then, you told me to keep it a secret and I got so jealous that every time I saw you I just wanted to slap you. And then we started to fight and I pushed all the feelings aside hoping they would go away. And then game night happened.

You remained silent as you absorbed Wanda's words. She spoke again before you could.

- Damn, I know this is a lot to absolve. - She says. - I understand if you just want sex. Or if you'd rather not talk to me anymore.

You interrupt her monologue with a kiss on the lips, which makes her gasp. But you pull away, smiling shyly at her.

- I'm in love with you too, Wanda. - You confess, and watch Wanda's cheeks turn red.

Wanda brings your mouths together again, and you kiss her intensely. You giggle with relief and happiness, and then Wanda hugs you around the neck, and you let your arms wrap around her tightly, sinking into her body heat as you close your eyes.

You hold each other for long minutes, until you break the embrace to look at Wanda tenderly. You find her to be the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. Running your fingers over her face, you smile tenderly.

- What will happen now? - you ask, and try not to be intimidated by Wanda's hesitation.

- I don't know. - She says. - I want to be with you.

- Are you ready to admit this to everyone?

Wanda closes her eyes for a moment, and you think she is going to deny it. But then she nods in agreement, and you feel a new surge of excitement hit you.

You let out a relieved laugh, and kiss Wanda's cheek, pulling her into a hug. She giggles against your grip. You then settle down, sitting side by side as you put an arm around her shoulders and she leans her head on your chest. Wanda intertwines your hands in her lap as you gaze out over the ocean in front of you.

- Do you really think Darcy and Elizabeth wouldn't be together? - she asks, and you laugh, not moving away.

- Actually, I just disagreed with you, because you're hot when you're mad. - You joked, making her laugh.

The night went by quickly after that. You and Wanda cuddled while talking about various random subjects. You watched the sunset together, and she kissed you hard before getting on the bus to her house.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #high school au #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wandaxreader

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emma-d-klutz · 4 years ago

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IF I were to write a Maribat fic

It would be mostly a played for comedy and drama take on “Marinette picked up this whole Bat thing way too quickly.”

Like, post Miracle Queen, Marinette is just overtaken with so much guilt about Master Fu and is also desperate for a new mentor to be a replacement and a distraction from the blame she puts on herself and the burden of being the new Guardian. She is absolutely sure she is not ready to be in charge.

She calls Damian and asks for an audience with Batman. Damian is like, “Oh, isn’t this the girl who kicked me out of Paris? What was it you said? ‘No Gothamites in my city.’ Isn’t that what you said? Didn’t you say you can’t have our “type” of vigilante in Paris, because we’re too, what was it, overemotional? Is this that girl who is on my com right now? The one who rejected joining the Teen Titans? That’s you? You want me to TALK to my FATHER? I would barely ask him a favor for someone I actually LIKE.” Except then she kind of blows up at him and tells him the situation, and Damian gets real quiet and listens, and he feels a little sick because he’s remembering the Ric Grayson situation and also Alfred’s most recent death, which he ALSO blames himself for, so like... they got shit in common. He says he’ll talk to Batman about a video call.

Cut to three months later, Marinette has just THROWN HERSELF into being Batman’s disciple. She calls him Master. She practices fighting day and night out of the suit, and IN the suit she uses her powers for training and is often seen sprinting for miles or scaling the Eiffel Tower with only her upper body strength. She comes to school covered in bruises and with the darkest circles under her eyes, and her friends are WORRIED, they really are, but she’s like 80% less bubbly then usual, so no one is really confronting her and are just silently wondering what the heck happened. Most people assume that this has something to do with her taking Adrien and Kagami being an official couple really hard.

For fashion design, well. Marinette has gotten really into armor lately.... huh. (It’s because the Batfam encourages her to not rely on a magic suit that can turn off at the worse time, and she is convinced she must be prepared to be Ladybug at any and all times. If anything, she’s lamenting that she doesn’t know how to make weapons.) (She got a grappling hook styled like a yo yo as a present from Master Bat.)

She texts Kagami out of the blue one day like, >>Hey. Come over. I am in the process of making my masterwork >>Oh and bring a sword >>A sharpened one, not a training sword And Kagami comes over to see a twitchy (”ok that’s pretty normal”) super serious (”well that’s not. she’s usually so flighty and indecisive”) Marinette. And in the place where there was once an Adrian shrine and stalking schedule is now what seems to be a Hawkmoth shrine and stalking schedule. Marinette brings out what looks sort of like shiny silk with jewels woven in, and Kagami’s assumption is corrected. No. It’s a polymerized titanium she synthesized herself with light elemental defense crystals woven in by hand. Marinette is very proud. It’s a prototype. She plans on making a material that can be beautiful formalwear and as stab-proof as any kevlar. But it’s still a prototype so Kagami can you pretty please do some slashing and stabbing on it pretty please? See she wants it to be really good before giving it to her other Sword Friend, because Dami is a really harsh judge, and her motivation just won’t be able to take it if she gets notes from him this early on in the process. Kagami is actually really on board and helpful in this venture.

She does like indirectly ask Marinette if she’s heartbroken of if she’s with Luka or what have you, and Marinette just gets really harsh and says she has other priorities. She also makes some grandiose proclamation that neither of them are good enough for Adrien, because Adrien is pure goodness, he’s kindness and forgiveness personified, and it’s just... it’s just... it would be really clear to anyone who has ever heard Batman wax poetic about Superman where she is getting this highkey cringe behavior.

She’s on video calls with Batman all the time. They definitely have a conversation that goes something like this:

“I am certain the mean girl from my school is working for my main supervillain.” “Good. You can find him through her.” “Yess! I have been looking forward to the chance. I am going to interrogate her.” “Ladybug, no.” “I am going to tie her up with my yoyo and dangle her over the highest skyscraper in Paris and tell her I’ll drop her if she doesn’t tell me the identity and location of Hawkmoth.” “Befriend her at school and track her movements.” “Ok but wouldn’t it be quicker to dangle her off a building?” “You’re letting your emotions about someone from your civilian life interfere with your judgement and letting yourself act hastily and with negligence, which is exactly how you lost your first mentor.” “Ah....... you’re right. I’m sorry, Master. I won’t be reckless.” “Good. Tap her cell phone.”

As for Chat Noir, he is FREAKED OUT by her change and all the secrets she’s keeping now. And her behavior towards him has REALLY changed. Well not too much, but it’s noticeable in a way that unnerves him sometimes. Like she’s become a super serious workaholic, but she’s also insanely protective of him, to the point where he feels a bit resentful that he’s not being treated as a competent partner. He’s really trying to get Ladybug to talk out what she’s going through, and he’s anxious all the time that she’s on the cusp of becoming akumatized. Honestly, he’s not wrong on that part. He knows that this is all because she blames herself for Master Fu, and he is also aware that she is spending much more time in contact with that Robin from Gotham who they met once or twice, and he knows she’s keeping some secrets, but NO he is not aware for at least half of the story that she is being remotely trained by Batman. She’s telling him to shut up a lot more and bossing him around more and seems to know way more about Hawkmoth’s movements than him and it feels like he’s out of the loop, but she’s also, like, often spewing out how important he is to her as her partner and keeps giving him handmade pastries and saying, “An army crawls on its stomache,” so like honestly wtf mixed signals much

Batman agreed to mentor her temporarily and has been trying to find someone else from JL to take over, preferably Wonder Woman or Flash, because he agrees with Ladybug’s assessment that to be a hero in Paris it is necessary to have weaponized optimism, or Zatanna or Shazaam, because they could train Ladybug in her magic hopefully. He is told several times that it would be easier to get her mentorship if she agreed to join Teen Titans or Young Justice, which of course they all know, so thanks, but Ladybug would def refuse to leave Paris and her partner, so her joining YJ isn’t really up for discussion.

Flash said that she’s great but that, “She’s SUCH a Bat,” and that clearly she’s so attached to him that she should just stay one of his. Batman asserts that she is only being like this because she is desperate for a mentor, and if someone else took her on, she’d probably/hopefully change again just as fast. Flash says he isn’t so sure, and that at this delicate point in time, being handed off to someone else might, like, retraumatize her or smth.

Ladybug literally started breaking fingers interrogating someone.

It is on camera.

The LadyBlog is in SHOCK.

No one knows what to do.

Even Hawkmoth sees the video footage and is like, “Jeez, am I... Mayura, are we in over our heads here? Did we break the teen hero? Is this our fault?”

Anyway, those are all my favorite ideas of the ones I’ve daydreamed so far. There is also stuff about how she interacts with the other members of the Batfam and that she uses the Horse Miraculous to travel to Gotham to be trained in hand-to-hand and also to just sob for hours and scream at things because she CAN’T let her emotions out like that in Paris and the bafflement of the Batkids like “you... came to GOTHAM... to NOT repress your emotions. um, k.” And Cass loves her and thinks she is Baby Sister and if someone is mean to baby sister in front of her she will stare into your soul until you are quiet ect ect many ideas.

The reason this is an IF and not a WHEN:

dudes I have no plot

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

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At Last (oneshot)

Harry Potter Marauders Era

Request: hi! can i request a regulus x reader childhood friends to lovers?

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: T

_______

“So are you going to finally ask her out?’

Evan asked as he stood with Regulus at King’s Cross station. You were coming back from a month’s long visit to your grandma’s that left Regulus, in Evan’s mind, an abandoned wreck. Evan had been watching for the past 8 years as Regulus fawned over you (his best friend) helplessly and you were blind as a damned bat to the whole thing.

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest wanting to ignore Evan’s question. The less that he had to talk to Evan about his lack of a relationship the better. Regulus wanted nothing more than to ask you to be his girlfriend. He had wanted this since 1st year at Hogwarts. Every time he came close to asking you out, he panicked. Panicked was putting it lightly. Regulus was about two stones short of a panic attack anytime that he came close.

It didn’t matter that you were the perfect girl for him or that the two of you had been best friends since childhood. He always chickened out. Evan decided to make it his civic duty to try to give Regulus non stop pep talks on trying to get with you.

“I’m hoping to.”

Regulus finally replied. Evan smirked, knowing that this was probably a bunch of shit that Regulus was saying. If Regulus Black asked you out, Evan would eat his own hat.

“Well, Barty and I hope you do because you get all emo whenever she goes on a date with a new guy.”

Regulus’ dark eyes rolled over in his direction with a displeased scowl.

“Shut up, Evan.”

Shutting up was something that Evan Rosier wasn’t good at and Regulus was crazy if he thought that he was going to get off of the hook that easy!

“Repeat after me, Y/n will you go out with me. I’m a wreck without you.”

Regulus aimed a kick at Evan’s shin making the other boy shriek in pain.

“Shut up Evan!”

Evan sighed, his voice becoming a bit more gentle. Apparently, this was what it was going to take. Regulus apparently didn’t understand that Evan only wanted him to be happy. He was tired of seeing Regulus so gloomy whenever you went out with some new mistake that didn’t last long.

“Dude you need to practice. Whenever you try to ask Y/n out you just make a squeaking noise and she thinks you're catching a cold and tries to take care of you.”

Regulus again gave Evan a dark “Black family scowl.” Evan didn’t seem to realize just how difficult this was for Regulus. It wasn’t just asking a girl out. It was asking you, his best friend, out. This was huge! What if the relationship failed and Regulus lost his best friend in the world? You were the only person that really understood him. You were the one that comforted him when Sirius ran away. Was Regulus really prepared to potentially lose the one person that he could really be himself with?

The question that Regulus should have been asking himself was would he be able to handle it if you married someone else? Regulus wasn’t ready to think of “that” step yet but what if some fucker asked you and you said yes? Would he be able to stand there and watch you pledge undying love to some fucker who could never love as he could?

“I kind of want to kill you Evan.”

Evan didn’t have to ask Regulus what was going through his mind, he knew. He had seen Regulus get super depressed every time you dated someone else. Now that the lot of you were getting older there was a good chance that someone would eventually propose and you would eventually say yes. Regulus would fall apart when that happened.

“Eh. Who would you bitch to?”

Before Regulus could reply, he spotted you stepping off of a train.

“Enough, Evan. Here she comes.”

You waived the moment that you saw your two best friends standing away from all of the other muggles.

“Hey!”

You called before running over and throwing your arms around Regulus’ shoulders. He wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your head.

“Did you have a nice trip?”

Regulus asked as he gently sat you down. You laughed before hugging Evan, who for whatever reason, was looking extra smug about something. Knowing Evan, it was probably something stupid.

“If you consider going to bingo every other night, eating a shit ton of jello, and being hugged by random old people at the rest home, fun...I had a blast. Every old person thought that I was their granddaughter.”

You didn’t want to go on the trip to begin with but you parents talked you into it. They used the whole “your grandmother is getting old and won't be around much longer” comment and you agreed to go on month’s long roadshow to visit your granny.

Looking at Regulus, you realized just how much that you had missed your best friend. Best friend...you sighed at the word. You wanted it to be a lot more than best friends but he didn’t seem interested in that. It didn’t matter how many times that you send signals his way, Regulus seemed oblivious to it all. The best that you could come up with was Regulus didn’t have any interest in any relationship with anyone. He had his head too far in his own role in the war.

“Yum, jello.”

Evan said, pulling you from your thoughts. Both Regulus and yourself gave Evan an annoyed expression.

“If you like jello, you should go visit with me next time. They will want to keep you with your blue eyes and dimples. All the little old ladies will want to say that you are their doll baby grandson.”

Evan’s smile faded. He didn’t like people touching him as it was and he knew the moment that he stepped foot in that rest home every stranger would be hugging him nonstop.

“On second thought, no thanks. Well, I came to see you now I have to go get ready for a hot date.”

Evan focused his attention on Regulus before emphasizing.

“Get. Ready. For. A. Hot. Date.”

You had wrapped your arm through Regulus’ and watched as he gave Evan a huge go-to-hell look.

“Make sure to not wear that muggle Old Spice cologne. You’ll smell like a grandpa.”

You said, earning a smile from Regulus. Evan, meanwhile, shook his head.

“You two behave. Oh wait, look who I’m talking to. Later.”

Evan turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving both Regulus and yourself with matching frowns. You were the first to speak as you looked up at Regulus.

“Something is wrong with that boy.”

Regulus nodded.

“He was dropped on his head a few times. That’s the best that I can come up with.”

You spent the rest of the day with Regulus. After Walburga got on her youngest son’s nerves enough, Regulus conned you into going upstairs to his bedroom. Regulus lay back on the bed putting his hands behind his head as you sat down beside him. His curls framed his perfectly handsome face and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him. The two of you hadn’t “cuddled” in sometime and at the moment, you would love to curl up in his arms. It didn’t matter how many guys you dated, none of them made you feel the way Regulus did.

“So what else did you do on your trip other than be everyone’s granddaughter?”

Regulus asked.

“I went on a few dates with this guy from the Netherlands.”

The moment those words left your lips, Regulus’ eyes snapped open and he glared up at the ceiling. He snorted before sitting up and shaking his head.

“Of course.”

You blinked from your place on his bed.

“What?”

Regulus stood up and stormed over to the window to glare out. If some poor soul on the street suddenly caught on fire, Regulus wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Nothing.”

You didn’t move nor was you about to back down. Regulus liked to “shut down” when he was mad but you were not a “shut down” kind of person. You wanted to talk about it.

“Talk to me, Regulus.”

When Regulus didn’t speak, you finally got off of his bed and went to join him at the window. Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you weren't about to let him get away from you. The two of you were going to talk whether Regulus wanted to or not.

Snuggling your face into his back, you breathed in his scent. How were you supposed to tell Regulus that it was his scent that you smelled when brewing an amortentia potion? How were you supposed to say, “Let's throw away our friendship and risk it all for love?”

“I swear, Reg you act like you are jeal…”

BAM! It hit you like a bag of bricks to the stomach. Regulus was jealous! He was just too good or too proud of a man to say it.

“Thank you for finally seeing things my way.”

Regulus finally commented. His voice was soft but had a hard edge to it that told you how angry he was. Regulus didn’t care to yell at Evan, if he had to. Yelling at Barty was like breathing. Raising his voice at you, however, never happened. You were the person that Regulus would never raise his voice to or put an unloving hand on. There was the one time when the two of you were five and he accidentally knocked you down the front steps and he felt awful for weeks. He sobbed until Walburga fixed up your skinned knees and told Regulus to get a grip on himself.

She is just fine, son. Now stop this nonsense.

You smiled at the memory before reaching out and forcing Regulus to look at you.

“How long?”

“How long what?”

Regulus asked, trying to be stubborn. You rolled your eyes.

“Regulus Arcturus Black, stop this nonsense. You know what I mean...how long have you felt this way?”

Regulus sighed.

“Not long...a while...since 1st year at school. I want to be with you but you keep getting with these fucking twats that no nothing about you. They don’t even know what way is up.”

Your mouth dropped before smiling. Regulus wanted you. He wanted you like you wanted him. Bless him, he had been feeling this way for so many years. There were so many years that the two of you could have been happy together and you wouldn't have dated any of the clowns that you were fixed up with. You could have the boy that you wanted from day 1.

“No, they don’t. They also are not you.”

Regulus looked at you with wide eyes as he got the meaning of what you were saying.

“What if we fuck it all up? Everything that we have...I wouldn’t want to live without you in my life.”

Regulus said, looking down. You quickly moved to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Snuggling your face into his shoulder, you breathed him in again.

“We wouldn’t fuck it up. It's something that we both want and we both know each other. Like, you know when I am getting my big dick energy and can talk me down…”

“And you know when I'm getting too dark and can lighten me up.”

Regulus interrupted before giving you a small smile. You eagerly nodded, cupping his face.

“See, we have what we need. You’re what I smell in an amortentia potion. You’re what I need, Reg.”

Regulus wrapped his arms around you holding on tightly. He wasn’t about to let go. If anyone tried to get in the way now, they would be hurting! You were his girl and his alone. Regulus’ days of watching some poor useless fucker flirt with you were over. Those pretty lips were all his now...as they should have been from day one.

“Funny, you’re what I smell in one too. Your perfume, your shampoo...everything about you. I need you too, Y/n...more than you know.”

“I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Regulus gently titled your face up to his. The first kiss was everything that you expected and more. All of the years of mutual pining, desperation, and jealousy were paying off. Both of you were finally getting what you wanted and nothing else would ever get in the way.

“I love you.”

Regulus said as he pulled away and nuzzled his forehead against yours.

“I love you and no one will ever get in the way of my feelings for you again.”

Wrapping your hands in Regulus’ shirt you pulled him down for another kiss. As soon as his tongue slipped into your mouth, a clapping sound filled the room. Both of you looked up quickly to see Evan perched on Regulus’ bed with a gleeful smile on his face.

“Oh thank Merlin! Finally! I swear, I thought that I was going to have to tape you two together or something.”

You turned to Regulus who was scowling at his best male friend.

“Regulus, why is he here?”

Regulus didn’t remove his gaze from Evan for a moment before wrapping his arms around your waist ready to apparate elsewhere.

“No idea, let’s leave.”

Evan, meanwhile, was still going on and on about how happy he was that the two of you finally got your heads out of your asses and joined the rest of society. You nodded returning your arms to Regulus’ shoulders.

“Great idea. Let’s go somewhere...anywhere else so we can be alone.”

Regulus nodded.

“At last.”

_________

@amelie-black @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @regulusheadcanons @realgaytrash @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @spiderxalmighty @teletubiswszpilkach @whymyparentscheckmyphone @jessyballet @knreidy1 @acciosiriusblack @mimisparkle12 @fific7 @rubyroscoe1 @hazncalsgal @quuenofblacks @bennyberry @criminalyetminimal @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @stuckinsaudi1 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner @deanwherescas @mycuddlycorner

#Regulus Black #Regulus Black x Reader #Evan Rosier #annon request #harry potter requests #regulus black request fic #timothee chalamet as regulus black #regulus x reader #reader x regulus #the ancient and noble house of black #regulus arcturus black #harry potter fan fiction #harry potter reader insert #At Last #At Last one shot #Regulus Black one shot #update

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baubabble · 4 years ago

Text

“Subtle Differences” Part I - Hotch x F!Reader

PART II FINAL PART

Summary: When three women turn up dead in Seattle, the BAU heads West to investigate the crimes. The reader, an agent returning to the field after an injury, is asked by her boss to stay close to him on this one. However, her feelings for her boss have only grown over her time at the FBI and now it seems that he may reciprocate them after all...

Word Count: 3084

Warning: Violence, Murder, Basic CM Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Drumming Song” by Florence + The Machine

Note: I seriously need to get better at summaries again. This is my first attempt at criminal minds. This one is either going to be two parts of three. Depends on what happens. I love Hotch so much but I also have a Reid imagine in the wings! Stay tuned for part two!

---------

George Eliot once said, “One can begin so many things with a new person - even begin to be a better man.”

It was early when you received the text from Garcia that there was a case.

It wasn’t the first time the team has been called in early, but it looked like this was going to be a bad one considering the lack of happy emoticons in Garcia’s message. Figuring you were going to heading to the jet shortly, you didn’t bother with the suit. Arriving at Quantico in your jeans, you slumped in the elevator as it rose to the sixth floor. The familiar hum of the mechanism offered you some comfort but didn’t do anything to shake the fatigue that weighed heavily on you.

Stepping out onto your floor, you headed right for the kitchen, pulling out your travel mug. As you passed the bullpen, you noticed that both Rossi and Hotch were in already, their lamps in the offices illuminating the blinds that kept them sequestered from the rest of you. Entering the kitchen, you breathed in the smell of fresh coffee as it brewed in the pot. You knew it had to be Rossi who had done it. You really did love that man.

As you waited for the coffee to finish, a yawn escaped you. “Keep doing that and we’ll all start.” You turned to see your boss enter the kitchen with a small smile on his face.

Aaron Hotchner was dressed in his usual suit and tie, holding a mug of his own in his hands. You and the Unit Chief had met while you worked in anti-terrorism and had hit it off immediately. To anyone else, if they were to observe you, they would see two friendly coworkers, but you knew there was something else there, whether he did or not. When Strauss had invited you to join the BAU, Aaron was thrilled, but it only made hiding your attraction to your boss that much harder. Especially in moments like these.

“That’s what happens when Penelope calls us in before the sun is up,” you said with a small smile of your own.

“Did you have a good weekend, (Y/N)?” Hotch asked, leaning against the counter next to you.

“It was pretty uneventful,” you said with a shrug. “What about you? Do anything fun with Jack?”

“If by fun you mean Jack having a fever and two very sleepless nights, then yes,” Aaron said and you could see the exhaustion that also weighed on his shoulders.

“Oh no,” you said, “how’s he doing now?”

“Better,” said Hotch. “His aunt is going to watch him while we’re gone and I’ll check in later.”

“Must be hard to be away from him when he’s sick,” you said, pouring hot coffee into your mug.

“It never gets easier, no,” he said softly. “But that’s the job.” You nodded, well aware of how important the job was.

The BAU had become a second home for you and while you would have loved to go see your parents in Maryland or spent a day relaxing on your couch, you couldn’t ignore the feeling you got when Garcia sent out her bat signal, calling you all in. It was what pushed you to return to work after your injury a few cases back. Hotch made sure to ask about that as well.

“How’s your arm?” he asked, his eyes on your forearm that had taken a bullet during a pursuit in Delaware.

“I’m clear for the field, Hotch, don’t worry,” you said with a glance at him, but you knew he would be one to argue.

“It’s my job to worry,” he said, “I need to make sure my agents are always at the top of their game.”

“Are you questioning if I am able to perform in the field, Sir?” You asked and you thought you saw his brow twitch as you addressed him formally.

“Not at all, (Y/N),” he assured you, “but I must remain vigilant.”

“Of course,” you said. “I will make sure not to disappoint you, Hotch.” You smiled at him over the lip of your mug. Aaron rolled his eyes at your playful tone and moved to grab the coffee pot. You didn’t step back fast enough and for a moment, the two of you were flush against one another. You could feel his breath on you as well as the smell of his cologne. Glancing up, your eyes met for a fraction of a second before you awkwardly stepped out of his space. “I, uh, I’ll see you in there,” you said as you pushed your way out of the kitchen and back towards the bullpen, not waiting to hear his response.

Shaking your head slightly, you tried to keep your focus on the task at hand. On the way to the round table, you ran into Rossi. “Good morning,” he greeted.

“Is it even considered morning yet?” You asked with a slight laugh. Rossi was watching you with narrowed eyes. “Stop it,” you said.

“Stop what?” He asked, innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I hate profilers,” you groaned as you entered the conference room. JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Garcia, and Reid were already there. You could hear Hotch coming up behind you.

“You are a profiler,” Rossi reminded you.

“My point exactly,” you said, taking your seat next to Spencer.

“What did I miss?” Reid asked.

“Nothing,” you and Rossi said at the same time. Spencer frowned, but didn’t press the issue as Hotch entered the room, ready to get to work.

“Morning everyone, I’m sorry to call you in so early,” Hotch said as he went to take his seat before the monitor.

“Are you though?” Morgan asked, nursing a cup of coffee of his own. Hotch just smirked at him.

“Garcia?” Hotch asked and Penelope stood up and grabbed the remote.

“Okay, my sleepy crime fighters, we have a weird one,” Garcia said as she pointed the remote at the screen. “If you will turn to the information on your tablets, you will see that Seattle PD is asking for our assistance on their newest collection of murders. Two women have been found dead in local parks. Mason Walker and Rayna Graves were both murdered within a one week of each other and one more woman, Lisa Bracken is missing.”

“Cause of death?” JJ asked.

“Medical Examiner says asphyxiation on both of them and then there is this,” Garcia hit another button and pulled up an array of images.

“Is that…?” You asked.

“Candle wax?” Garcia finished for you. “Yes it is, my lovely friend.” Each of the victims were covered in red candle wax that looked straight off a Maker’s Mark bottle. Their legs, arms, torso, and face were covered in thick red drops of the thick substance. “Both women were found with it covering them like an old altar in a church.”

“Do the locals have a theory?” Rossi asked.

“Some believe it is to do with a religious ritual, but none have come up in any research done by the detectives.”

“Which makes our job that much harder,” Hotch said. “Wheels up in thirty.” As the rest of the team stood up and got ready to move, Aaron stopped you. “(Y/N), a moment?” You paused, your heart picking up speed at whatever he was about to say. Would he reprimand you for what happened in the kitchen? You didn’t think so, but still those nerves remained.

“Sir?” You asked, nervously.

“I want you to stay close to me on this case,” Hotch said. Your brow furrowed, confused.

“Why?” You asked, afraid you had done something wrong. Aaron picked up on it immediately.

“You’re not in any kind of trouble,” he assured you. “After your injury, I am expected to have an agent evaluate you in the field on your first case back. I’ve decided to take on the responsibility myself. If that is okay with you, of course.”

“Yes, of course, Sir, that is completely fine with me,” you said, trying to keep your breathing even. Hotch seemed satisfied with your answer.

“I am not trying to be overbearing and please don’t think you’re being criticized. I just want to get a feel for how you respond in the field.” You nodded, fully aware of procedure. However, it was usually JJ or Morgan that did these evaluations, not the Unit Chief.

“I understand, Hotch,” you said. “Just tell me where you need me.” Hotch nodded and after one more glance, you left the conference room to grab your go-bag as you tried not to think about spending the entire case with Aaron Hotchner.

————

On the jet, you sat next to Derek.

You and Morgan had been friends since your first day at the BAU. With his flirty attitude and your ability to call him out on it, the two of you had connected fast. Hotch and Rossi sat across from you while JJ, Prentiss, and Reid milled about.

Once you reached altitude, you began reading the case file again. Flipping through, you focused on the ME’s report as well as the detective statements. Something was bugging you about the way the bodies were found, something was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

Unable to focus on it any longer, you closed the file and looked out the window, watching the sun come up. Morgan sighed next to you and you turned to look at him. He was looking at you with a question on his lips. “What?” You asked.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m just trying to figure something out.”

“And what would that be?” You asked, already regretting the question.

“Of all the time I’ve spent with you outside the office, I don’t know much about what you like to do.”

“That’s what you’re curious about?” You laughed, shaking your head slightly.

“Come on, (Y/N/N), tell me something. What’s a hobby of yours?” He asked and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Aaron look up from his tablet at Derek’s question.

“Well, I like to ride motorcycles,” you revealed. Derek’s dark brows shot up.

“No way,” he said, his grin widening. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” you said with a chuckle.

“My girl likes to burn a little rubber, huh?” He asked.

“Actually,” Spencer interjected, “modern sports-bike tires don't contain any actual rubber at all. They are made entirely from synthetic rubber, which is beneficial due to a balance between durability and traction.”

“Huh,” you said, impressed. “I did not know that. Thanks, Reid.” He smiled at you and you mirrored the expression.

Across from you, you noticed Hotch was smiling proudly at the interaction. You knew he felt very protective of Spencer. He also didn’t like it when people shot him down when Spencer went on his tangents. You loved when Reid babbled, it always made you smile and next to JJ, you were one of the only people that let him talk as much as he wanted. Aaron always noticed this and it made him appreciate you even more than he did already.

Suddenly, Garcia’s face lit up the monitor. “Bad news, friends,” she said solemnly. “SPD just found Lisa Bracken’s body outside Century Link Field.”

“Same MO?” You asked, grabbing the file again.

“Unfortunately,” Garcia confirmed. “Local PD is waiting for you at the crime scene.”

“Thank you, Garcia,” Hotch and she nodded before logging off once again. “Alright, Dave, you and Reid go to the coroner’s office and see what you can make of the first two bodies. JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss, I want you to go to the latest crime scene. (Y/L/N) and I will go to the precinct and set up there.” You nodded as you flipped through the file.

You expected this. Hotch said he would want you to stick close to him and he was always first to interact with the locals. Glancing up from the file in your hands, you noticed Hotch looking at you again. He quickly looked away once your eyes met his, but his gazing was unmistakable. Rossi caught your eye and he quirked a brow causing you to turn away and watch out the window. You really did hate profilers.

———

Arriving at the downtown precinct, you and Hotch pushed into the warm building and out of the rain.

You both were greeted by a handsome man who bore a detective’s shield on his hip. “FBI?”

“Yes, Sir,” Hotch said, reaching for his hand. “I’m SSA Hotchner and this is SSA (Y/L/N),” he introduced. “The rest of the team will join us shortly.”

“Detective Perotta,” the other man said as he let go of Hotch’s hand and turned his attention to you. He smiled as you took his hand firmly. “Ma’am,” he said respectfully. You nodded back, taking your hand back. His eyes lingered on you for a moment and you suddenly felt very exposed. Hotch cleared his throat, grabbing the Seattle detective’s attention once again.

“Do you have a place where we can work?” Hotch asked and Perotta nodded.

“Yes, we’ve cleaned out the conference room for you,” he said as he headed towards a room near the back of the main room. You followed both men, trying to warm your hands back up after being out in the cold weather. “We got everything your technical analyst asked for,” Perotta said as he pushed open a glass door. Hotch held it open for you as you followed the detective.

The locals had set up your case boards as well as provided all the current findings on the three known victims. Dropping your raincoat on the back of one of the chairs, you got to work setting up the board just the way your team liked it.

“So, you think it’s really a serial?” Perotta asked, watching as you placed Mason, Rayna, and Lisa’s photos up on the board as well as the initial photos that were taken of their bodies at their respective crime scenes.

“It seems like it, yes,” Hotch answered. “We should be able to begin building the profile once we figure out how the three victims are related.” Perotta nodded and then Hotch’s attention turned back to you as you stared at the photo of Mason’s body that was found in Volunteer Park. He watched as you spun the gold ring on your right finger, the one thing you always did when you were thinking. “Detective, could you get us a map of the area?” Hotch asked.

“Of course,” Perotta said, “one minute.” The Detective left, gently closing the door behind him. Hotch moved towards you, watching the way you analyzed the board before you.

“What are you thinking?” He asked softly. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you as he noted the way you focused on the first crime scene. “(Y/N)?”

“It’s the candle wax,” you finally said. “There is something so familiar about it. You see the way it’s dripping along her legs and then gets thicker at her ankles?” You asked, pointing to the photo. Hotch nodded. “I’ve seen that before.”

“Where?” He asked.

“I can’t remember,” you sighed, “but it was recent, definitely.” Turning to Hotch, you looked at him with frustration in your eyes. “Give me a few moments and I’ll figure it out,” you promised. Hotch gave you an easy smile, well, what you considered to be a smile.

“You’re not Reid, (Y/N),” Hotch said, “I don’t expect you to be able to recall everything you’ve ever seen.”

“Fair point,” you said, relaxing slightly. “But I’m still going to figure it out.”

“I know you will,” Hotch said, looking down at you, his eyes filled with kindness. It made your heart swell. You were going to say something else when his phone rang. Digging it out of his jacket, he pressed the speaker button. “Dave, what do you got?” He asked.

“Medical Examiner says the women had wax in their throats as well as their lungs,” Rossi said on the other line. You and Hotch exchanged a glance.

“They were drowned in it?” You asked.

“Yes,” Reid interjected, “it seems that it was quite hot too when it was forced down their throat. M.E. found notable burning in the esophagus and trachea.” You frowned, glancing between the phone and the photos behind you.

“Did the M.E. notice any patterns to the other wax drippings?” Hotch asked. You didn’t hear Rossi or Reid’s answer as a light bulb finally went off.

“It’s almost artistic,” Spencer was saying.

“No, that is exactly what it is,” you said, interrupting Hotch as he went to say something else. “The bodies are mimicking a painting.”

“What do you mean?” Rossi asked.

“I knew this looked familiar. There is this new big Italian exhibition opening this week in Seattle,” you explained, tapping at your tablet, “It’s been all over the news… Here it is,” you said, showing Hotch the image you brought up from the site. It featured the main piece that would be on display. It was a beautiful painting of a woman laid out in a field with a cloaked figure standing over her dripping red wax on her body. “I sent it to your phone, Spencer.”

“Yeah, I got it,” he said. “I agree with (Y/N). This is exactly what the unsub is emulating in his kills.”

“So, he believes he’s whatever is above the woman in the painting?” Rossi asked.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug.

“Okay,” Hotch said, “good work guys, get back here once you finish.”

“Will do,” Reid said.

“Thanks.” Hotch hung up and pocketed his phone. “Well done,” Hotch complimented.

“I knew it would come to me,” you said, examining the print on your screen.

“I never knew you were so into art,” Hotch said, looking over your shoulder.

“One of my many hobbies,” you said with a shrug.

“Like riding motorcycles?” He asked and you looked up at him. He was looking at you as if he was truly interested in anything you said next. Your heart skipped at the expression on his face.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. Hotch smirked slightly before moving back to the table, ready to look into the Italian exhibit again. You had to remind yourself to breathe as you went to print out a copy of the painting and pull yourself together before even the detectives knew what you were thinking by looking at your face.

PART II

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years ago

Note

Umm... I was wondering if you could Maybe do a follow up on your mini fic Last Line from dicks pov? It gave me alot of feelings and i would love to see the fallout?

Your work is really good! Its so cool how your brave enough to put pieces of yourself out there for other people!

Hey babe! Thank you for your kind words! It made me smile getting this, you are very sweet <3

I totally forgot about Last Line lol, but when I saw it reminded me that I actually wrote a bit more of it, both before and after the scene I posted. So, this isn’t exactly what you asked, but here’s some backstory and then the fallout!

---.---

Four years old, and he watches the red string on his finger pulled taunt towards the crying boy, the color of the thread well disguised among the red blood of the murdered acrobats.

Nine, and he watches from the shadows as it swings right and left, following Robin’s pirouettes from building to building. The thread, that usually goes a few feet before ‘vanishing’ from sight, was almost completely visible now, at such a short distance from the person holding onto its other end.

He’s on his twelve when he tries to explain to Dick the importance of him going back home. He wasn’t sure of his success, even though the older hero took him to the manor, because during his whole speech, Nightwing hadn’t looked up from the red joining them together. It wasn’t exactly how Tim wanted him to find out, but… Batman needed a Robin, and he was out of options.

At fourteen, he feels Kon’s hand clenching on his shoulder, as they both watch from the side how Nightwing swept Barbara off her feet and twisted her around, laughter falling from both their lips even as Dick thread’s end was pointing towards Tim. The third Robin didn’t turn to look at his best friend, didn’t meet Bart’s eyes or react to Cassie taking his hand on hers. He just made sure his face was perfectly devoid of any emotion when he muttered, low enough only a kryptonian would hear, ‘I wish it was any of you’.

(A few nights later, when he and Conner were sitting quietly on the Tower’s roof, the clone took Tim’s hand with his own, his lack of red string blatantly obvious as he said ‘If I had any, I wish it could be you’. To this day, it’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to him)

He is so, so tired, and he’s only sixteen. But keeping up with the shitfest that was the Battle for the Cowl, helping Dick while ignoring his red string (pulling him towards Nightwing, now Batman, stark contrast against the dark of his suit, with distracting insistency), dealing with Damian’s abuse as expected of him as the ‘mature, older brother’, coping with Bruce’s death, the shock of Dick throwing him, his soulmate, away so so easily…

(Shouldn't be surprising; Dick had been discarding him in favor of others since they met, shamelessly displaying his various relationships in front of him with an attitude that might be called cruel from anyone else but that just earned him playful shoves from other Leaguers while Tim was expected to swallow his pain, because a red string isn’t a promise, Dick is free… and yes, he knows that, but it doesn’t mean shit to his dying heart)

(Maybe, when he left for proof of Bruce being alive, it wasn’t so much for his old mentor than it was for himself)

----.----

Tim is seventeen and halfway across the world, looking at the string attached to his hand that never truly meant anything to any other than him (not to Bruce, who never took Dick aside and talked to him about consideration with his soul mate; not Dick's conquers, who never gave a fuck about the red string in the hands that touched their skin, even when a lot of them knew who was on the other end of it; not Dick himself, who after asking every thing out of Tim and having it, forcefully took the one thing Tim wouldn't give by choice and claimed Tim was his equal, his soulmate, so he never could be his sidekick... even if it was the first time ever that Dick even mentioned the string tying them both together), when he thinks 'you were always free; now, I'm freeing myself’.

He gingerly bites on the string, and with his other hand takes a handful of it and pulls.

The pain piercing his heart is expected, but not new. He had been feeling it since the first time he saw Dick's back as he walked away with someone else.

He times it carefully, too. He doesn't think Dick would care, but just in case, Tim waits until it's morning in Gotham, when he's sure Dick is probably sleeping after patrol.

Maybe he would wake up without noticing

---.---

In Gotham, Dick is carried by Alfred and Damian to the cave, when the new Batman's screams of pain woke everyone in the Manor up. They are suspecting cardiac arrest, and then Dick looks down to his hand and notices the string, always tense, signaling him where his north is, where Tim is, laying loose and lifeless.

He panics, asks Superman to track Tim down or something, and when the man confirms Tim is still alive somewhere in the Middle East, he knows.

And like a freight train, the parting words Kori told him the last time they saw each other hit him right in the chest.

"He isn't going to wait for you forever"

----.-----

When Tim does come back, at nineteen, it’s a quiet thing.

He spent the last how many days carefully setting his systems up, making sure his mainframe would outstand Oracle’s scrutiny when she realized he was back in town and tried to hack her way into his life.

(He didn’t blame her, of course not. Dick was charming enough, good enough, anyone he set his eyes into would be helpless to nothing but fall in his arms.

And, wasn’t Tim the one who would have been intruding, had he tried to chase after the first Robin? Everyone knew he and the original Batgirl were a perfect match, thousands of times better than Tim, whom Fate just wanted to screw over.

But not anymore)

The first thing he did, once the safe houses were chosen and his programs up and running, was to ruthlessly hack into the Batcomputer and take a look at patrol routes.

He would need to keep clear of Diamond District and Old Gotham, least he risked crossing paths with B and R. The Financial and City Hall Districts were apparently Batgirl’s playground for the night, and if he wanted to drop by and let Cass know he was back, he could always search for her by the Upper West Side down to Chinatown.

He would avoid the Upper East Side like the plague, though. Maybe Coventry too, just to be safe. Lots of skintight blue in that direction.

Which left… Crime Alley, the Bowery and Burnley, mainly. He needn't check to know who’s house that was.

And that’s how he ended, on his very first night back on the streets, dragging Red Hood’s bleeding ass away from a blowing up building.

-----.-----

Apparently, saving a recently rehabilitated murderous vigilante was a bonding experience, because Jason didn’t kick him out of his side of town, nor tell on him.

He couldn't, however, do anything to prevent the criminal gossip mile from spreading, and before a week had passed, half the city was aware of the new player on the board.

-----.------

Jason was taking a breather, smoking while sitting on his favorite rooftop, when the rustling sound of fabric told him his peace and quiet was over.

“I thought you were back at being N”, he greeted, not bothering to turn around or get up.

“B was out of town, and Robin needed someone to watch over him during patrol.”

A quick glance around had Hood snorting, “Then y’re doing a shitty job. Don’t see the midget anywhere.”

It would never NOT be weird to hear a strangled laugh coming out of the Bat suit, as tight and humorless as it was now. It seemed big ol Dick wasn’t doing so great tonight.

“Batgirl took him to a party in Diamond District. Gang war.”

He humms in response, not bothering to keep on the smalltalk. N, no, B was here for something, and it wasn’t Jason’s job to ask it out of him; if it was important, he would do it himself.

“Where is him, Hood?”, he finally went to the heart of the matter.

Jason tilted his head, still looking over his city, unmindful of the steps coming closer to his position, “Robin? Ya just said it, B. Going senile? Gang war, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t play around. You know I mean…”

Oh, yeah, Dickie still wasn’t sure what to call Timbo. Criminal gossip only went so far, for someone who didn’t bother to shout his hero name to everyone he beat up. It was very possible only Jason was aware of his new monicker. All gothamites knew was a young vigilante showed up recently, wearing red and black and hanging out with the Hood, which immediately upped his street rep to ‘not to be fucked with’.

“Lil red?”, he completed for his older brother, feeling both charitable and petty. Batman’s wince was more evident by the rustling sound of his cape; he had hit a sore spot, hadn’t he?

“Where? I’m not asking again.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not answering. Must be ‘roundere somewhere, the little creep.”

“Hood, I’m running out of patience.”

“And I’m out of cigarettes, your point? I don’t have him on a leash asshole. We just share the same hunting space, it’s not like we go home together and do face masks while we talk about feelings.”

They did go to a safespot, though, and share beer and pizza while cursing their relatives and Fate as a whole, but it wasn’t necessary information for the fucker. He just breathed in the last of his smoke before dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it, stretching as he did.

“Now, any more of this riveting conversation, or can I go? No, wait, it was a rhetorical question; get out of my part of town, ass. I’ve been plenty generous by letting you come this far, but our truce lasts as long as the lot of you don’t build any sandcastles on my playground and you know it. Now, scram.”

He could feel Dick’s reticence at leaving without what he came here for, but Oracle must be talking him into letting it be for tonight, because he didn't push. Jason turned just in the right moment to catch the way Dick looked down to his gloved hand, as if expecting the lifeless red string to be pulled taunt in Tim’s direction by some miracle. Jason felt the smallest ping of pity, quickly washed away by the memory of the younger hero’s haunted eyes as he told Jason the story of his severed soul bond and how he came to do it.

Thirty seconds after the bat vanished into the night, a little red bird landed softly on the spot next to him.

“Thanks, Hood”, he muttered, just as tired and hurting as he’d been ever since he saved Jason’s ass and they became partners, but with the smallest hint of lightness that made him prouder of driving Dick away than he’d ever been.

“Don’t mention it, but fair warning, the big B scomin back home in a few days, and he’s harder to kick out than a hurting, annoying bluebird.”

“I know”, Tim sighed, well aware of both facts. “I’ll play it by ear. For tonight, what about bashing some skulls and ruining Two Face’s new op? Good intel says it’s just a few blocks from here, and shattering bones always makes you smile.”

“Babybird, you speak the language of love.”

“Wasn’t that french?”

“I’m trying to compliment you, don’t be a smart ass about it.”

“I am smart, and I do have a good ass. That seems like an impossible request.”

----.----

#ask #last line #dicktim #but not #soulmate au #red string au #angst #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #red robin #nightwing #red hood #jason is a good bro #dick sucks as a soulmate #bruce is gonna be confused as fuck when he comes back #my writting #my writing

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

“We were dreamers not so long ago, But one by one, we all had to grow up. When it seems the magic’s slipped away, We find it all again on Christmas Day...”

~“Believe,” by Josh Groban

x~x~x~x

The Ravenclaw VS Hufflepuff match was one for the ages. With a final score of 320-10, it was one of the most decisive matches in Hogwarts history, let alone one of Ravenclaw house’s greatest triumphs -- and all of it was because of the combined efforts of Seeker Cho Chang and Ravenclaw’s Chasers, led by their Star Player Robert Bellamy. It put Ravenclaw well on its way to winning the Quidditch Cup for a second time, and it also made Robert once again the talk of Ravenclaw house. People latched onto the idea of him using echolocation to signal to his fellow Chasers where he was on the pitch and began to say he could fly faster than any bat, whether a real one or one from Ballycastle.

And yet, despite all of the praise and fawning he received, just as Cecelia said, Robert shrugged all of it off.

“All of us train more than just our eyes,” he said with a shrug. “And besides, signaling would’ve meant nothing if Roger and Randolph hadn’t been good enough Chasers to toss the Quaffle to me blindly -- and if Roger hadn’t been a good enough Captain to lead our team, to begin with. Not to mention Cho catching the Snitch in the middle of that fog -- that’s infinitely harder than anything we did...”

Atticus @cursebreakerfarrier couldn’t quite understand how Robert could be so determined not to accept praise for his abilities when it was so clearly warranted...but even so, he found himself smiling every time he heard him respond with such modesty. For as flippant, rebellious, and devil-may-care as Robert was, he wasn’t full of himself. It was a rather endearing quality.

When December arrived, the student body got into a predictable tizzy about the upcoming holidays. Atticus, as always, found himself grumpier than usual due to the noise. He’d never really liked Christmas even as a kid, and at Hogwarts the season only served to make him more surly. Atticus recalled, however, that Robert was one of those people who got obnoxious around Christmas -- it had always irritated him before, whenever Robert would sing Christmas carols loudly at the top of his lungs while helping decorate the Ravenclaw common room. And this year was no exception. The Star Chaser helped smuggle a tree up to Ravenclaw Tower, hung garlands and clusters of holly all over the Ravenclaw commonroom, and greeted and said goodbye to absolutely everybody with “Happy Christmas,” and on the morning of December 8th, the very day he no longer had to dress all neatly like Atticus, he pulled out his old red-felt Santa hat and wore it every single day for the rest of term.

Atticus was frankly done, and the holiday break hadn’t even started yet.

“Aw, come on, Lestrange!” said Robert one day after Potions, giving the other boy a light punch to the shoulder. “Lighten up -- it’s Christmas!”

“So you keep reminding me,” Atticus said dully. He tried to bury his nose in his copy of Moste Potente Potions, but Robert wouldn’t drop the line of conversation.

“Well, I wouldn’t keep reminding you if you cheered up a little,” he said with a grin. “Do you always have to be such a Scrooge around this time of year?”

“Do you always have to be so happy about it?” Atticus shot back. “...What’s a ‘Scrooge’ anyway?”

“A character from A Christmas Carol,” Ceci explained with a small, amused smile. “It’s a Muggle book -- it’s a lovely one too: you’d like it, Atticus...”

“Better have Rob read it aloud for you, though,” said Barty with a big grin. “No one reads it like Rob.”

“A Christmas Carol is a masterpiece of literature -- all I do is treat it accordingly,” Robert said offhandedly. He shot Atticus a wry smile over his shoulder. “Though I suppose if it’d help you actually get to sleep at a reasonable hour for once, I could always read it to you as a bedtime story, Lestrange -- ”

“No thank you,” Atticus cut him off crisply.

Her face appearing rather sympathetic, Ceci lightly bumped her arm against Atticus’s as they walked.

“Are you staying here for the holidays again, Atticus?”

Atticus nodded. “The library’s always nice and quiet, over break. It’s a good time to get some extra work done...”

Robert’s light-hearted expression faded -- something almost guilty passed over his face.

“...Mm...”

His black eyes drifted away, off toward the far wall. Barty offered both his best friend and Atticus a smile.

“Well, uh...maybe we can do some work over break together, then, Atticus,” Barty offered.

Atticus stiffened like a startled cat. “Huh?”

“My parents are taking a trip to visit my aunt and cousins in Normandy,” Barty explained sheepishly, “so I was thinking of staying at Hogwarts over break too! Don’t reckon much of anyone else in our year will be, so maybe we can hang out a bit over break, if you’d like...”

Atticus truly couldn’t think of anything he’d want to do less. Knowing it’d be incredibly rude to say so, however, he forced an uncomfortable smile. Ceci, however, jumped on it.

“That’s perfect!” she said. “Maybe you and Atticus can do some extra research, Barty.”

Atticus blinked in confusion. “Research?”

“About our dreams,” said Ceci eagerly.

Barty nodded. “One thing all of our visions have in common is that we all look older, right? You said that the guy in your dreams kind of looks like me, but older -- and Ceci, Rob, and I all see each other looking older too. But when we looked into Divination, all we really got was a lot of vague preaching -- ”

“You mean utter rubbish,” Robert inserted with a smirk.

“So Robert was thinking,” Barty pressed on, “if this is some kind of future sight we’re having, maybe we can find out what’s causing it by studying Time-centric magic.”

“And what better person to help us with researching something in the library than Atticus Lestrange?” Ceci said with satisfaction, taking both of Atticus’s shoulders from behind and giving them a light squeeze.

Atticus, however, didn’t look so sure. “Well, thank you, but...I’ve already read every book in the library about Time Turners -- and I don’t think there’s anything in there that might explain what’s going on...”

“Every book?” prompted Ceci, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” said Atticus. “Well, except for the Restricted Section, but...”

He trailed off, noticing the wicked look that Ceci and Robert exchanged before they both glanced at Barty.

“Except for the Restricted Section,” repeated Robert, his lips spread in a broad white smirk.

Barty grinned -- his expression was perfectly angelic compared to his cohorts, and yet it was determined.

“Atticus,” he said in a very soft, but perfectly fearless voice, “mind if I join you on your evening Prefect rounds, over break?”

And that was how Atticus Lestrange got roped into sneaking into the Restricted Section of the Library after dark on Christmas Eve with Barty Gilbert.

Atticus had been very wary when he lingered in the hall outside Ravenclaw Tower as planned, waiting for Barty. He knew his father most assuredly wouldn’t approve of this, and even despite that, he dreaded the thought of willingly spending time with his school rival. It didn’t matter how pleasantly the Gryffindor acted around him, or even how fond Atticus was becoming of his best friend -- Atticus didn’t like Barty, and that was that. And he absolutely hated the thought of getting into trouble just because he was roped into working with him.

Unfortunately Atticus was so uptight and stiff while waiting around that he nearly had a heart attack when Barty’s disembodied voice whispered in his ear.

“Sorry!” Barty whispered quickly. “I’m sorry -- I was really trying not to sneak up on you, but Filch is around that next corner...ack! Here he comes!”

He threw some sort of translucent cloth over Atticus’s head, prompting the other boy to crouch down so it covered both of them.

The crabby Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, rounded the corner, raising his lantern and looking around. His beady eyes glided over where Atticus and Barty were standing, narrowing suspiciously, before he trudged away.

“Andskotans djöful,” Atticus swore under his breath.

He was clutching at his chest and breathing very heavily as he turned to gawk at Barty over his shoulder.

“You have an Invisibility Cloak?”

Barty grinned sheepishly. “My parents own several robe shops. I figured one of their stock going missing wouldn’t be the absolute end of the world...”

He adjusted somewhat so that the fabric wouldn’t drag on the floor.

“Come on -- let’s get to the library.”

Fortunately the two managed to get into the Restricted Section without incident. Once they were positive no one was in the Library to catch them, Barty stood watch under his Cloak by the door, his wand over his chest, while Atticus combed through the shelves of books, his own wand lit and held aloft so he could scan the titles. The two didn’t talk much -- the discomfort congealed between them as Atticus tried to keep his eyes on what he was doing.

“Anything promising?” asked Barty.

“Not yet,” said Atticus shortly.

Silence returned. After another moment, Barty spoke again.

“Atticus...may I ask you something?”

“What?”

“In your dreams...do you see bad things happening?”

Atticus paused. Then he slid another book from the shelf and opened it, flipping through the pages.

“Not really. I don’t see much of anything, I think -- at least, not that I can remember. It’s...feelings, mostly.”

“Feelings like you know something’s wrong? Like, even if you can’t see what happened, you feel so much pain and sorrow that you know it’s bad?”

“Sometimes.”

Barty nodded, turning his focus back out into the blackness of the Library.

“As far back as I can remember,” he said very softly, “I’ve had this dream where I was trying to reach someone. I couldn’t ever see their face clearly, but I just knew, somehow, that the person was in trouble, and that I had to help them. But no matter how fast I tried to run to try to get to that person...my vision would black out and I’d feel like I was frozen still, unable to move at all.”

He bowed his head, his eyes cast into shadow.

“...I would wake up screaming and crying at night, when I was little...all because I couldn’t reach that person in time. Because I knew that, because I didn’t move fast enough...that person was dead.”

Atticus’s hand had stilled on the book he was flipping through. His eyes were wide upon the page, but clearly weren’t taking in any of the words printed there. The memory of his own mother trying to comfort him after he woke up crying about a pair of red eyes and warm arms rippled over his mind.

“When I got to Hogwarts,” Barty said lowly, “my dreams became a little clearer. I still didn’t know where I was or what I was doing...but this person who I’d been running to try to save, my whole life, suddenly had a face. A man with black eyes and curly hair...just like my best friend.”

He looked up at Atticus, his face incredibly serious.

“I don’t know why you’ve seen someone like me in your dreams, Atticus,” said Barty, “and I know you don’t like me...but I could really use your help, in getting to the bottom of all this. Robert is my best friend in the whole world. He’s the first person who became my friend solely because of who I am, rather than who my family is. If I lost him...if anything bad happened to him...”

A dark, miserable shadow passed over his face.

“...I don’t know what I’d do,” he whispered.

Atticus looked up at last. His blue eyes were rather uncertain.

“What about Cecelia?” he asked. “Didn’t she become your friend for who you are?”

Barty’s eyes softened as his face flushed lightly.

“...Ceci means everything to me. We’ve known each other forever. But her family only engaged with mine because we had money...and my parents only let us play together because her parents would bring her over. Our parents encouraged her to play with me because my parents reckoned she’d be a ‘good influence’ on me...might help me come out of my shell some...”

“Well, I suppose they were right,” muttered Atticus. “Now you’re the hot-shot Dueling Champion and Dragon Tamer...Hogwarts’s Golden Boy...”

The last words came out before he could stop himself and he immediately looked away, his insides prickling with discomfort.

Barty, amazingly, only smiled weakly.

“It’s easy to be brave when you know you’re doing the right thing,” he said, “when you’re standing up for somebody or trying to calm an animal that doesn’t know any better. When you’re fighting, or protecting, there isn’t any thought -- you just do. Because it’s the right thing to do.”

He looked down again, his shoulders falling slightly.

“...But when you’re around people...trying to figure out just what to say, to tell people what you mean...or even just how much to say, when you know not everyone means you well...well, that’s not so easy. You feel like the whole world is watching you, and judging you, no matter what you say...even if you say nothing at all. But at least when you’re quiet...people can kind of just see what they want to see...”

Atticus frowned. Barty had always been rather soft-spoken compared to witty, sassy Robert and sociable, amiable Ceci, but he’d never really taken the time to conclude that Barty was actually shy.

“I’ve always envied Robert that way,” admitted Barty, offering Atticus a small smile. “He’s never at a loss of what to say. When you and he go at it, bantering like you do...I can tell you like each other, but there’s just such a charge there -- like the eclectic lamps Professor Burbage has in her Muggle Studies class!” He beamed a bit more broadly. “It’s so cool.”

Atticus stared at Barty for a moment, unsure of what to say. Then, after a moment, he looked back down at the book in his hands.

“...Thanks,” he said at last. He could feel his ears burning again.

Barty, however, only smiled, his blue eyes very understanding and patient as he returned his focus to the dark Library again.

Atticus glanced up at Barty without raising his head, considering him for a moment. Then, with a swallow, he spoke again.

“...I...used to wake up crying too. When I was little.”

Barty looked up, taken aback.

“I used to dream about this person with red eyes,” said Atticus. “He’d be squeezing my shoulders -- almost as if he was afraid to touch me at first, but then gently, purposefully. Then, as he held my shoulders, he would start to laugh...but even though he was laughing, I would hear the sobs. I could tell he was crying...crying in grief and joy and something else altogether...but so much pain. A kind of pain I don’t think I could ever know...”

Just remembering the heartbreaking sound made Atticus’s throat clench and his eyes well up with traces of tears. He wiped them quickly from his eyes with one hand.

“My mother used to comfort me, telling me that it was just a dream, that nothing in it could hurt me,” he said lowly. “But she never needed to say that -- I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He was the one hurting.”

He swallowed. The lump in his throat was painful.

“...I didn’t have the dream as much, as I got older -- just time to time, around some of the other weird ones. Maybe I just don’t sleep long enough stretches to dream as much anymore,” he added as an afterthought. “But when Bellamy and I got paired for Binns’s oral report...well, that feeling came back, out of nowhere...and again, when you, Ceci, and I were watching the match against Hufflepuff.”

Atticus forced himself to meet Barty’s eyes at last.

“I don’t understand this whole thing at all...but I want to know why I’m feeling these things, and I want to know why you, Ceci, and Bellamy see what you’re seeing, too. If that’s what you want too...well, then it’s only practical that we work together.”

He offered a weak smile of his own. Barty was definitely taken aback, but within seconds, his face had lit up with a warmer, more determined smile and he nodded.

“Mm-hmm.”

From that day on, Barty Gilbert and Atticus Lestrange had made peace.

Unfortunately their night in the Library proved fruitless, research-wise. Not even Dark or restricted magic could explain the kinds of bizarre, fragmented visions the four students were experiencing. And so Atticus returned to his dorm that night feeling very disheartened. He was less so, however, when he awoke out of a restless doze in the Ravenclaw armchair Christmas morning to the feeling of someone holding his shoulder and lightly shaking it.

“Atticus. Atticus.”

Atticus blinked sleepily up at who’d woken him, to see a familiar, shyly smiling face framed by auburn hair.

“Happy Christmas,” Barty greeted gently.

Atticus shook his head rapidly, trying to orient himself.

“W-what? Gilbert, what -- what are you doing in -- ?”

Just behind Barty, Atticus could see both Ceci and Robert grinning from ear to ear.

“Surprise!” said Ceci brightly.

“Happy Christmas, Lestrange,” said Robert, his black eyes dancing with mischief.

Atticus looked around at all three of them, perfectly bewildered. “But -- but you -- you two went home for Christmas -- how did -- ?”

“Rob and I took the Floo back!” Ceci explained.

“It was Rob’s idea,” said Barty. “I thought I’d keep the whole thing quiet, until they got here.”

“I couldn’t change my plans and stay for my whole break, since I have to be at home for Christmas Eve church service,” said Robert, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, “but well, the thought of you being stuck here all alone...”

His eyes drifted up to the ceiling.

“‘The school is not quite deserted,’ said the Ghost,” he recited from memory, “‘A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.’”

He returned his gaze to Atticus seriously.

“A Christmas Carol,” he added as explanation. “It’s part of why Scrooge ends up hating Christmas so much -- he wasn’t allowed to go home for the holidays to see his family, so instead he stayed at school all alone, with nothing but his books for company. I know this whole season isn’t your thing and all, but...it just seemed rotten, to leave you and Barty alone.”

Barty beamed at Atticus. Atticus, on the other hand, was too overwhelmed to respond. He felt like his throat had gone very dry, all of the moisture instead moving up toward his eyes.

Robert and Ceci had put their holidays with their families on hold for him. Yes, Robert said it was for him and Barty, but he’d been thinking of Atticus and how lonely he’d be. No one had ever done anything quite so kind for him before, and it made Atticus feel like his heart was flooding.

“...You...” he murmured, “...but...why?”

Ceci laughed. “Why do you think? You’re our friend, Atticus! We wanted to spend Christmas with you!”

Atticus’s heart swelled.

Friend. He was their friend?

He looked from Ceci to Barty to Robert -- his black-haired dormmate smiled, his black eyes sparkling as he nodded in agreement.

The tears that had been prickling at the sides of Atticus’s eyes actually leaked through, escaping down his cheeks, as he smiled back. He quickly wiped them away, his smile gleaming as he looked up at the three of them.

“...Thank you,” he said at last breathily. “I...I don’t know what to say...”

Ceci brought her arms around Atticus in a sideways hug. “Then don’t say anything! We have presents to unwrap! Come on, come on -- Barty, Rob and I put ours under the tree before we woke you...”

Atticus felt a bit guilty that he hadn’t thought to buy any presents for Robert, Barty, and Cecelia, but he honestly hadn’t expected that they’d want to get him anything. But sure enough, all three of them gave marvelous presents -- Barty gave Atticus a book on Dark creatures; Ceci gave him his own leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol; and Robert gave him a beautiful bookmark carved out of wood into the shape of a Phoenix and painted brilliant shades of red and orange. The card enclosed said,

Ceci helped me paint this for you. Hope this little turkey can keep you company in the Library.

Happy Christmas!

Robert

Atticus was amazed when he learned that Robert had actually carved the bookmark himself by hand. Apparently Robert had used some of the leftover wood from the trunk of the tree he’d smuggled into Ravenclaw Tower to make Atticus’s bookmark -- he’d also used some of the branches he’d had to trim off to make Barty a carved picture frame and Ceci a pretty wooden heart pendant she could wear as a necklace. They were all a little rough around the edges, but the effort showed through, and it warmed Atticus’s heart to think of the amount of work Robert must’ve put in to make his presents.

The whole day put Atticus in such a good mood that he even encouraged Robert to read aloud from his new leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol, so he could hear it. The request made Robert’s dark eyes light up more brightly than Atticus had ever seen them before...and indeed, when Robert finished reading the beautifully written, emotional novel with such warm sincerity and articulated poetry that evening, Atticus had to admit -- it was a very, very good book.

#golden era #hphl #hogwarts legacy #reincarnation!au #my art #my writing #bartholomew varney #atticus grimsley #cecelia crouch varney #hahaha you've heard of christmas in july?? well now it's only may #but christmas is bat's favorite time of year hands-down #grim's canon relationship with christmas is harder because he initially thought it was 'eh'#then he met bat and he started really enjoying it #but then bat died right before christmas so toward the end of grim's life it only brought back bad memories #and admittedly atticus as his modern self didn't have much fun at home during christmas when he was a young'un #I'm so glad to see barty and grim finally finding some common ground!! :')#also yay for sneaking into the restricted section around christmas LOL

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insufferablelust · 4 years ago

Text

THE ARTIST AND HIS MUSE (vi)

okay but that gif sent me to blazing hell, anyways! this is the 6th installment to the series! i hope you enjoy! it’s kinda a filler chapter to make straighten the plot line, thank you for reading! MASTERLIST for earlier chapter.

WARNINGS : Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, no actual smut, allusions to sex and pre-BDSM talk, traumatic past, Huge Build up (sorry loves), Cheesy fluffs.

I would also like to say that, some aspects of this story is not consistent with the actual series, i make some changes to fit the plot lines better. Full credit to the creators and directors of the series though.

—————

{ love is a world of it’s own, that lives in the heart not in the head. -Diana & Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds }

————

I love you

I love you.

————

The next morning, had me smiling. It was the longest sleep i’ve gotten in awhile and one that doesn’t have nightmares, all because he’s here. Spencer’s here, i shuddered as i felt his arms tightened around my waist and his legs tangled with mine. It felt so good just to know that we’re both safe and sound inside each other’s embrace, even if it’s temporary.

I listened to his breathing for awhile, he sounded so calm, there’s nothing i wouldn’t do to ease all of his worries and soothe the very thing that had him overthinking everything. His mind is a complicated place, he said so to me one time that “You never know what its like to be the prisoner of your own mind.” he didn’t know then that i’m still trying to get out of mine.

I bit my lip hard, as the memories from last night flooded back, i used to promised myself to not say any of my past to anyone, but now Spencer knows and i’m terrified that something will happen to him. Bad things tend to occur when they know the real me, and i won’t let anything happen to Spencer.

I shake away my bad thoughts and move on to the more exciting time of the night, god— i could still feel the way he touched me, the way he whispered so cruelly yet so lovingly. It was different from the first time we had sex, he was gentle whereas that time he was rough, dominant. I love both Reid’s, and yet i just can’t seem to get the thought out of my head, “How did he know that much about Dominance and Submissive play?” It’s not just common knowledge on how to perfectly bound someone or edge someone right? according to your experience, His techniques were as sophisticated as someone who had years of BDSM training.

“I could’ve sworn that dream was real.” Spencer’s morning voice pulled me out of my thoughts, i turned my head to see him before flashing him a smile and giggled. “Penny for your dreams then?”I muttered jokingly which he told me that it involved me and him, i stifled my laugh as i hid my face on his neck, immediately feeling the immense calmness radiated from his scent alone.

“Remember that one time, on the picasso signature case?” He mumbled sleepily against my hair, “how could i not remember? that case is the one that changes everything.” I looked up to him then, ran my fingers through his hair.

“I remembered just how flushed you are, i always liked you since the beginning, i just.. i just don’t know how your reaction would be so i kept it a secret.” He paused to look down at me, tucking my hair behind my ear, then continue,

“But then i started noticing little.. changes in your behavior, so i observed you for weeks which i know is creepy but hey.. i was practically in love with you at that point, you got anxious a lot around me which you hid it really well but then that one time during a case you just completely went flushed and your pupils were dilated, your breathing labored— which convinced my theory.” He explained, with eyebrows raised and a smirk itching to appear on his godforsaken lustful lips.

“Mmm, which is what Dr.Reid?” I batted my eyelash up at him, not knowing where my sudden burst of confidence appeared from but not caring either. “That you feel the same way about me, if not romantically, then at least sexually.” There it is, his lips curved up at one side— i was about to answer but beat me to it- leaned against my ear and whispered, “Stop with the act or i’ll spank your ass purple.”

“Oh Spencer, you’re saying it like it’s something i wouldn’t love.” I scoffed as i sit up on the bed, then straddled his hips. My respond lit up something inside him, something primal that i can see it in his eyes, his demeanor changed 180 which sent thrill to my skin.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

“I think i am, and so are you.”

“Oh i am pet, It’s fascinating how much you think you have control when it’s been showed clearly on who’s in charge, by the marks on your skin, and the burning sensation between your legs.” It felt like he poured all the molten lava on top of me to leave me burning, the way he said all of that turned me on beyond belief.

“You forget that i’m in control of you, and by so i can take away the things you ‘love’, when we talk about our relationship later, i’ll make sure spanking won’t be in the list of punishments— since you’re such a needy masochist.” I can’t help but to whine at his words, only to confirm all he said is true, true to every damn detail.

“S-Sorry sir and yes we need to talk about it..” I was so flustered i couldn’t think of anything else but that, i knew if i asked for him to touch me now he would just laughed, so maybe i can try to get back in his good mercy.

“There you go, you have manners after all. We’ll talk about it over breakfast, go and shower, i’ll make french toast.” He make sure to kiss my lips before patting my bum as a signal that I need to get up, which i happily did so. “Oh and sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir?”

“If i find you touching whats mine, Expect to be denied with ruined orgasms for a week.”

—————

The smell of french toast cooking hit my nose on the perfect Sunday morning as i stepped out of the bathroom, quickly drying myself off then went to my closet to pick out an outfit that was both comfy but also would make Spencer goes crazy. I smiled as i saw a vintage dress i’ve owned since college, it was a Sabrina type dress that stopped right above my cleavage, showing plenty of skin from there up to my neck.

I put on the dress quickly, decided not to apply any make up, and comb my hair to let it fall freely. I stand in front of the mirror to see how i looked, the sight made me shiver, the marks he had given me last night littered all over the exposed skin of my neck down to my collarbones, I bit my lips at the thought of bearing more of his mark as a way to show everyone that he owns me. Body and soul.

After a good 5 minutes, i snapped out of my thoughts and head downstairs right to where Spence is plating the french toast. “Go sit on the table. I’m almost done” He ordered, so i sit down, waiting for him to finally see me, my knees bounced against the table as i waited in anticipation.

“Y/N stop being anxious, your knees keeps—“ He demanded, only to be cut off when he saw me. He stopped dead at his track, holding both plates in each hand, his eyes widened a little as his breathing got labored at the sight of me, Spencer bit his lip hard taking a deep breath, before placing your plates in front of me, and his plate opposite of mine.

As you thought he was about to sit, he strolled to my side, hands immediately gripped my jaw and pulled me out of my seat— his hand are so tight around my jaw, i’m sure it’ll bruise, good. I took in the state of him, like i could see the red in his eyes as his were burning holes through my skull.

Then his grip moved lower to my neck, grasped it softly, not enough for it to bruise but enough to give me a warning. “You have no idea how much i want to put a nice collar on your neck, and bend you over this desk right now.” He whispered roughly, his other fingers trailed against my lips side to side.

I opened my mouth so he can pushed them in, letting me suckle on them as he chuckled “We’ll talk first, we have a lot to talk about. But since you’re pretty adamant on teasing my like this, if you agree to be mine later after we establish how this is going to work— best believe i’m going to ruin you.” My knees buckled at his proposition, Doesn’t he realized that i’m already his? He owns me the moment i let him open me up inside out.

“Bribing me already Dr.Reid?”

“Oh baby, i’ll make sure you’ll earn your lesson.”

—————

You moaned the second you tasted that sinful french toast, god isn’t Spencer supposed to be terrible at cooking? then how come this tastes like literal heaven? the perfectness oozes out of this fine looking toast dripping with hon—

“You’re really testing me now, Y/N.” He intertwined his fingers around each other before putting them in front of him, the manner suggest proper intimidation, clearly it worked for you. You replied with a whisper “Sorry sir, it’s really good.”

“Before we start to discuss our relationship, i’ll allow you to ask me questions about anything and everything that’s been going on. You gave me closure yesterday, and i shall give you closure too.” You kept eye contact as you wonder what to ask, which one of the thousands of questions in-your head that you were going to ask.

“Y/N?”

“How um how’d you find out about me? my past?” You nervously asked, this is something important to you, if Spencer truly found out then sooner or later you’ll have to face the consequences of everyone finding out too, probably even deeper than what’s Spencer been digging.

“I had my suspicions for awhile, when you first joined, you looked way too trained to be 25. No one is that trained unless they have basic skillset, everyone were suspicious too but decided to not question anything. But like i said,” His eyes were sharp, and you can feel the goosebumps rises at the sound of his tone. God he always managed to make you nervous.

“You intrigued me. So i did some digging of my own, asked Garcia to hand me your file, to my surprise before the age of 14 Y/N Bones never existed, Your surrogate father is smart, but he still leaves crumb Y/N. I’m just surprised the bureau didn’t question it when you joined,” He paused as he clench and unclench his jaw, the sight alone made me squirm in my seat, i’m not sure if i’m even listening at this point.

“So i searched deeper, even asked one of my friends Elle to do a deep background search about you so that it’s not someone on the team, and we both found out that you.. breezed your way through the psych eval that you have an astounding result. Your records are squeaky clean yet, there are pictures of you when you were 17 so we generate how you might’ve looked like when you were 10 to 15 years old and then we found...”

“The missing kid from a mob murder house in Italy, last seen by the chauffeur that was killed moments after he talked to the police, the poor guy was new— he never been briefed on what happened when something like that occurred.” You finished his statement as you looked down, your eyes closed momentarily as you tried to process that this man knows everything about you and now your secrets will be revealed to the world.

“Y/N, listen to me,” You’re that good at controlling your face whenever someone confronted you, thats why you’re able to breezed through your basic psych eval like a magnet. “Let me see you, not the walls you’ve put up.” Then when he said that, you felt like you never really knew yourself, all these years, you’ve put up a persona that was strong enough to handle everything even if you chipped away apart of your psyche every time something traumatic happened.

“This is me, Spence.. It’s who i want to be..”

“No, it’s killing you. All your life you’ve been directed, told what to do, controlled. But then you gained some sort of control when you finally was able to get free from your surrogate father, yet you don’t like it right out of the start so you keep up because that’s what kept you survive, get you inside the bureau so you won’t legally be touched once your father died, am i correct?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you tried everything to give up control again, you joined the club right?” That made you red in an instant, How the hell did he managed to know so much about you? you’ve tried your damn hardest to be discreet about it, event as far as going to the club thats far from where you lived.

“I-I, Spencer this is too much information..” You trailed as you bit your lips at the thought of him knowing the inside and out of you like you’re one of his book, part of you were glad that you don’t have to keep everything to yourself anymore, that you don’t have to worry about control— you want to relinquish control, and he’s the only one that has made you feel comfortable when you give him all of you, and you don’t want it to stop. But you two are coworkers, FBI agents in the same field nonetheless there’s no way Hotch would agree to anything you propose.

“I know it is, Y/N. But you don’t have to go through it all alone now okay? i’m here, i know and thats good.”

“What do i have to do? Tell Hotch the truth about my past?” You chewed your lower lips as you think about all the possibilities that could happen, one being the most obvious which includes you being investigated and then fired. Or there’s one where the FBI would uncover Mr.Bones’s ties to Italian mob, which means you put all of them in danger. Then there’s one—

“Stop it, stop thinking for a second, and stop biting your goddamn lips, i swear.” He took you by surprise as he went over to your side and place you on top of the table in front of him before sitting down on your seat himself. “I-I’m sorry, i just.. don’t know what to do.. i don’t want to resign or get fired, i love this job, you’re all my family.”

He took my hand in his, and hold it tight before pressing a kiss on each fingertips, “You’re way too valuable of an agent to get fired and Hotch knows that, love. The worst thing that can happen is they’ll investigate and you’ll be forced to tell them what happened and how it went from there. Y/N you have no absolute ties with them, you were a victim.”

“You don’t know how powerful they are, the reason why i wanted to be apart of this job is to go after them Spence, and i’m getting nowhere close to even find any trace of them.”

“As much of a genius as you are, combining 8 heads instead of one will have a different outcome.” He joked, which makes you chuckled as you sighed and nods “Can i think about it first?”

“Of course, but do know that they’ll find out whether you tell them or not. And it’s better if it’s coming from you, not genius detective work of Garcia.” He sternly remind you, as you nod, and smile at him, muttering a small “okay..”

“Now, do you have any other question?” He pulled you closer, his hand practically grasping your bum cheeks, making you blush. “I-um..” you stopped as the words you were about to let out got stuck on your throat.

“Y/N, when you’re being asked, speak up clearly.” He scolds, which made your heart twisting in an uncomfortable way, showing how much you hate it when he gets disappointed at you. “I’m sorry, it’s just.. um— how did you know so much aboutsubmissionanddominance?” You rushed the last bit as you close your eyes in embarrassment, He made you feel so timid.

“What was that, baby? Didn’t quite hear the last bit?” He muses with a wonderful smirk formed on his ridiculously handsome face which makes you want to roll your eyes but decided otherwise since you don’t wanna get punishment this early.

“Submission and Dominance, Sir.” He play his game, and so you will play yours, only fair right? oh he thought so, his lips quirked in amusement before chuckling,

“How do you think i found out about that club you joined hm?” Your brows furrowed in confusion as you try to click things inside your head before you came to a realization...

“Spencer... are you— are you?”

He’s a goddamn member isn’t he?

“3 years, Princess.”

You’re fucked, Once again.

————//————

TBC! i know it’s short, like i said it’s only a filler chapter, since i have plenty of blurbs req, i’ll prioritize them first. So if you sent your reqs already, please be patient, they’re all coming soon!

tell me what you think on comment or send me a message, Tag list is open just let me know if you want in! thank you!

( @blancastans @spencerwaltergubler @slutforthegubes @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @babybloomer @liaabsurd @midnightsubmissives @addie5264 @maybankslut @secretpickleprofessordean )

#insufferableblurb #dom!spencer #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #taahm #criminal minds imagines #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff

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somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds · 3 years ago

Note

The Von Savage kids meeting the tutor

“I’m certain you will get along with the children, Mr. Wick.” “Please, call me John,” Nate replied, walking down the long hallway alongside Katrina, who had introduced herself as the children’s physical instructor.

She looked down her nose, just enough that it was evident, and smiled at him. “Of course, John. As I’ve said, you will have no behavioral issues. Mr. Savage’s children are model students. Scandal can be a bit… aggressive, but she’s a lovely young woman.”

Nate nodded, scratching behind his ear at his earpiece to send a signal back to the Waverider. He was at the right house, good. Ever since Gary disappeared and five other angry weirdoes showed up demanding to know where their leader was, there had been a lot of new knowledge uncovered about their favorite time agent. Nate had responded with the same shock as everyone else, but as he drove out to the sprawling country estate, he couldn’t help but think about his time in the Bureau with Gary. Gary had never talked about his childhood much. All Nate could remember was a dentist father and the way Gary shut down when someone mentioned school at all. Nate shook his head. He couldn’t feel guilty right now, even as it ate at him.

As it turned out, he didn’t even have to tune them out, the piercing scream of a whistle brought him back to the present.

Katrina let the whistle fall back against her throat. “Children! Downstairs, at once,” she called out, not a hair moving from the tight bun at the base of her neck.

Nate looked up at the sounds of running, and three children nearly jumped over the banister trying to get downstairs faster than each other. The taller boy shoved past both of his siblings, making it to the bottom first. A shorter girl stood to his right, an even shorter boy to his right.

The children stared up at Nate, all with toothed smiles.

“Children, this is your new tutor, Mr. Wick. John, these are Mr. Savage’s children. Scandal is twelve, Bishop is ten, and Gareth is eight.”

The children nodded in unison. Nate gave them all a wave and an awkward smile back. Yeah, he can do this. Why was everyone so worried about him taking this mission on in the first place?

“Okay! Okay, no punching at the library table,” Nate said, standing between Bishop and Gareth. “We’re having some quiet reading time, remember?”

“He’s breathing too loud.”

“I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Shut UP,” Scandal snapped, throwing a discarded book at both of them. Nate batted it away, and rubbed his temple. This was going poorly on so many levels.

“I can’t focus on my biology textbook with you BREATHING on me!”

“I’m not, Bishop!” Gareth protested. “I’m all the way over here!”

“Both of you need to shut up, I don’t want to hear either of you.”

Bishop narrowed his eyes, chewing his bottom lip. He waited until Scandal turned back to her book, before he reached out and smacked it out of her hands. He snickered as she shrieked.

Scandal picked up Nate’s stapler and dove over the table, knocking Bishop to the ground. Gareth covered his ears as they struggled. Nate had to peel Scandal off of her brother. “Guys, guys, guys, that’s enough.”

“Oooo, did Katrina show you how to do that?” “Shut UP, Bishop.”

“Mr. Wick, my sister has a CRUSH on Katrina!” Bishop taunted and Scandal’s face went white. “It’s true, she writes about it in her-“

Nate apparently hadn’t had a tight enough hold to restrain a twelve year old full of rage, and Scandal was loose enough to kick Bishop in the throat and knock him over. He coughed on the floor while Nate set Scandal down in her chair. He shoved Nate away, still gasping. “’S true, Gareth told me so.”

Gareth’s eyes went wide, flicking over to Scandal glaring bloody murder at him. “I didn’t! I didn’t do that! Bishop’s the one that-“

A knock at the door made all three children silent, and Nate took a moment to breathe in the awful peace of the moment. He realized none of them were answering the knock, so he called towards the door, “Hello?”

“Are the children busy?”

“They are - finishing a quiz, just give us a minute.”

Nate sat Bishop back in his chair and handed him a book. He gave them all a thumbs up and a smile to set them at ease. He got blank stares back. “Come in!”

Katrina wheeled in a cart set for afternoon tea, the steam escaping out the spout of the kettle. She smiled. “I see the children are adapting to you well.”

“Oh, they’re angels,” Nate smiled, brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of his face. He helped her set out a scone and a cup for each child.

Katrina poured them all tea, smiling warmly at each of them. “Your father was proud to hear of your excellence in marksmanship this morning, Gareth.”

Gareth nodded, nibbling at his scone but not touching his tea. Bishop had already finished his while Scandal was halfway done with her cup. She poked Gary in the shoulder, and Nate watched them share a look. She shook her head at Gareth and Gareth shook his head back.

Katrina looked over her tablet at him. “Gareth, drink your tea.”

“No.. no thank you,” he whispered. Katrina’s smile turned downwards.

“Gareth, your father sent this up as a treat for all of you.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

Scandal nudged his shoulder a bit harder this time, but Gareth didn’t look up. Nate felt a bit helpless, until he remembered something his mother did when he didn’t want to eat his broccoli at dinner. He took his empty coffee mug, filled with tea, and downed it before anyone could ask him. He smiled at Gareth after he set the cup down, “See, man? It’s good, I’d have more.”

He didn’t really understand the shocked look on everyone’s face, including Katrina’s.

But it had to be worth it, because Gareth picked up his teacup with both hands, and drank his tea down. Katrina gave him a curt nod of approval, and asked Nate to gather materials for a lesson on the Roman Empire. Nate agreed, leaving the children to their snack at the table, slipping away to a back shelf. He tapped his earpiece. It’s me, can you guys hear me?

Nate, what’s up?

I can’t find anything on Katrina, Savage’s right hand. I haven’t even seen the man himself yet. He’s in the West Wing or something, nobody talks to him except for her.

What about Scandal? And Gary?

They’re just kids, guys, I don’t know what else to tell you. They’re homeschooled, they don’t like each…other….Garrrrrry hates….what was it….

Nate? Nate, what’s wrong with your voice?

…the tea…the tea…guyssss….guys…they’re being dr…..

Nate woke up gasping, sweat cold against his neck as he came too on the library floor. The lights were out, and the children were gone. He stumbled out the door, clutching the doorknob to steady himself. The mansion was silent, except for a tapping sound coming from the foyer. He managed to drag himself down the stairs to Katrina standing before the front door, monitoring her tablet that never left her hands.

“Mr. Wick,” she nodded in his direction. “Good of you to join us.”

“What was in that tea?”

“I had another pot for you, you were too impatient. Patience is a virtue, Mr. Wick.”

“No,” Nate shook his head. “No. What was in that tea? Why were you feeding it to them?”

“The children must be able to complete their work even under duress, you understand.”

Nate looked out the open door. The night had set in and the darkness hung over the estate like a shroud. “You - are they out there?”

“Of course.”

“But - but they’re kids. They’ll get lost, they’ll get hurt.”

“Mr. Wick. Mr. Savage’s children never get lost. And do not worry. Children are remarkably difficult to break.”

A flatline sound echoed from her tablet right as a gunshot echoed from the woods. Nate was a step away from shoving her aside and running out there to find the kids himself when a figure ran out from the trees.

Katrina made a note on her tablet. “Thirty minutes faster this time. Excellent work.”

Nate couldn’t ask what she meant, because the figure ran up the front steps and stepped through the doorway. He looked away from Katrina into the empty eyes of a tween girl with an AK-47 too big for her small hands. She had grime and blood smeared across her face, and she didn’t even blink the soil out of her eyes.

Katrina patted her head, kissed her forehead and smiled at her with pride. “Excellent work,” she repeated. “I sent six out with you, six flatlines. I’ll have the scouts bring them back in the morning.”

Nate felt his stomach creep into his esophagus as he saw the flatline next to both of her siblings’ names.

Scandal let the gun clatter to the floor, mumbling about being hungry, being tired, wanting to go away, please let me go to bed.

A voice boomed from the top of the stairs. “Scandal.”

Scandal lifted her eyes, and Katrina turned around. Nate didn’t. He knew who was talking.

“Scandal,” Vandal Savage repeated, an awful smile in his tone, “I see you have made wonderful progress under Katrina these past two years. This is your best time yet.”

Scandal nodded.

“Have you learned all you can from Katrina?”

Scandal shook her head.

“Scandal.”

“No, Father. I can learn - I can learn more from her.”

“Hmm,” Vandal pondered. “I don’t believe so.”

The tablet fell out of Katrina’s hands, hitting the floor along with the tutor’s jaw. She shook her head. “Mr. Savage, Scandal still needs to learn much more from me.”

“Could she beat you in a fight?”

“I - I -“

“Scandal,” Vandal ordered, not even looking at his tutor. “Pin her down.”

Tears fell out of Scandal’s eyes as Katrina whipped her head around, punching her pupil in the side of the mouth. Scandal didn’t scream, but grabbed her wrist from the punch and ripped it back, breaking it. Katrina shrieked, reaching out to grab Scandal’s throat, only for Scandal to kick her in the stomach once, then twice, then swing for her throat. She grabbed her hairbun, ripping it from its many pins, and used it to level her on the ground. She put a knee on her chest and grabbed her throat. She looked up at Vandal.

“Very good, Scandal. Finish it.”

Scandal flicked a sharp steel spike from her bracelet and looked down.

“Scandal…sweetheart…you don’t want to hurt me, please, please, please don’t -“

Scandal brought it down on Katrina’s scream.

Nate fell back against the door, the air sucked out of his lungs in a gasp.

Scandal got up, tears streaming down her face but no noise coming out of her throat.

Vandal smiled down at her. “You are truly my heir, Scandal. My number two. Come, clean up and eat your dinner. You’ve earned it tonight.”

Scandal scrubbed her eyes as she climbed the stairs after her father, looking back at Nate for a moment before turning around again.

Nate tapped his earpiece when he was alone except for Katrina’s blood soaking his pant leg. Guys, we have a major problem.

What?

It’s not the tutor. It never was the tutor.

Nate, what are you-

It’s the kids. It’s always been the kids.

#legends of tomorrow #gary green #scandal savage #I like pain #black widow vibes I suppose

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papipopsicle · 4 years ago

Text

GHOSTBUSTERS

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: In which Y/N keeps bumping into various Avengers on missions, sometimes to their benefit and others not so much. As Bucky finally decides to go back into the field, he comes face to face with a ghost from his past life.

Song: Death Valley by Fall Out Boy

Warnings: swearing, general lack of morals

Words: 2.4K

feedback is always appreciated

"You sure about this, Buck?" Steve asked, willing his reassuring nature onto the stoic man sat next to him. They were eight minutes from the drop sight in south Ecuador and only Gamora was joining them on the mission.

There was no way in hell he planned on backing out now.

James Buchanan Barnes no longer held the mantle of the Winter Soldier, but ever since Shuri, Princess of Wakanda, extracted the programming in his brain, he remembered everything. At first it was like puzzle pieces, fleeting memories and nightmares that he couldn't quite put together. But the last fifty years slowly found its way back. And the twenty before that of torture too.

Every bullet.

Every last breath.

Every tortured soul he killed for Hydra. And the lives he was forced to steal, forced to work along side with.

Wanda found out rather quickly his mind wasn't a happy place to venture into. She cried herself to sleep that night.

It took a long time for Bucky to realise his body was no longer a weapon, and longer to even begin trusting his prosthetic limb off the battlefield.

This was only a minimal risk mission; a group of young inhumans had been wreaking havoc for the past few weeks, Friday had been tracking them and noticed they were meeting a large arms dealer in Amazula tonight. Fairly simple. The enhanced individuals would be handed over to Agent Johnson's task-force while any weaponry will be confiscated by the CIA under Tony Stark's surveillance. All the trio had to do was detain the inhumans. Easy.

"Sure," Bucky responded slowly and shrugged his shoulders, "about time I got off my ass, right?"

"You can wait here if you don't feel up to it." The Zehoberei woman replied while picking at her nailbeds, voice dripping with sarcastic sympathy. Admittedly, she enjoyed the presence of these two no nonsense men, but their friendship made them worry too much and she didn't have the patience for it.

Gamora released the hangar door and without waiting for the super soldiers to respond, she jumped. Steve rushed to the edge and rolled his eyes as she landed perfectly a hundred feet below them. Once the quinjet had actually landed, the three stealthily made it to the warehouse unnoticed.

"Eyes on the kids, all five are headed down the north corridor." Bucky stated plainly over the communication device hidden in his right ear, still unable to comprehend how a pair of goggles allowed him to see through steel walls. He stayed crouched down low in the overhead railings, his large figure hidden with ease from any surveillance equipment.

Only a few seconds could passed before his ears were assaulted by a string of curse words from the alien woman, even more surprised that Steve hadn't reprimanded her for the foul language.

"Gamora?" The Captain questioned, launching out of his position in pursuit of his endangered teammate. When he arrived though, the scene before him made his eyes hurt from rolling them so hard, a simple "Not you again." fumbling from his lips.

Bucky calmed at the annoyed tone, having scrambled out of his hiding space with surprisingly the same amount of stealth. His heart was erratic, thinking it was a code red, but his steps slowed to a jog as soon as he registered they weren't in any kind of peril.

Y/N grinned up at the man in his usual navy stealth suit, watching his irritated expression tauntingly, "You missed me really, Rogers."

She'd arrived after Gamora, finding the kids tied to a post by the green woman with illuminated ropes. The mercenary began undoing their bounds, but was soon interrupted by their capturer and eliminated the threat with great skill.

Y/N stabbed Gamora in her thigh, her copper dagger dripping with blood as she twirled it between her fingertips.

Bucky rounded the corner and entered the open warehouse, finding his friend jogging over to the scene several feet ahead. Steve began assessing Gamora's wound and was quickly shoved off by the warrior, who simply stood and wiped her leg down as if it was dust and not blood.

Bucky stood frozen. It felt all too surreal - the flicker of orange hair, the bright teal suit which was anything but stealthy, and the familiar scarred tissue surrounding her magnificent hazel eyes. She was anything but a ghost, though he felt a soul step through his being.

"Buck? A little help?" Steve pushed, watching his friend move towards the group of teens without taking his eyes off of the annoying mercenary. He'd met her on numerous missions throughout the past couple of years, mostly getting in the way of things and a handful of times even aiding them.

"Buck?" Y/N mocked in the Captains authoritative tone, "What kind of name is that? What's it short for? Buckbert?"

Bucky blinked, forgetting all about the young inhumans, "Buchanan, actually."

"James? What in the fuck are you doing here?!" Y/N recognised his voice instantly, the gravelly pitch unrivalled by anyone else on this planet. She stopped fiddling with the electrified rope and spun on her heel, finding the first Winter Soldier mere meters from where she stood.

The mercenary slid her blade back into its sheath on her hip, sprinting over to her former partner and before anyone knew what was happening, her body enveloped his. Y/N squeezed him so tightly he thought is eyes may just bug out, but with Steve and Gamora's astonished expressions watching him, he returned the embrace. It was familiar, and Bucky didn't know whether that should be a good thing or a bad one.

"I'm sorry, actually I'm not. Care to explain how you know the asshole who just put a hole in my leg?" The Zehoberei woman seethed, checking the detainees were still detained before marching over to the pair.

"Yeah, not that this reunion isn't..." Steve trailed off, motioning towards the two still embracing. Bucky eye rolled his friend, letting the mercenary drop from his body but keeping his arm around her, "whatever it is, but why is it a reunion in the first place? Please don't tell me you two used to-"

"Fuck?" Y/N scoffs at the insinuation, knowing she'd hit the nail on its head when Captain America turned the same colour as his shield, "In his dreams, maybe."

"Y/N used to work for Hydra every now and again." The super soldier intervened, watching her wounded eye twitch from the corner of his vision, "Even when she wasn't, she'd follow my missions and find work in the same countries."

"Until I stepped in one day when his handler was being especially dickish and got myself this as a memento." She signalled to her paled scar with a sad smile, "I'd lost you for a while there, but it's good to have you back, James."

Steve couldn't believe how casual their conversation was, but instead of finding the answers he so desperately wanted, he had a role to play, "Is she going to be an issue?" Is all he could ask.

Y/N frowned at his no nonsense attitude, he usually threw a couple sarcastic remarks for her to bat back before getting on track with his mission. She looked up at Bucky with the same expression, arms crossed and eyes rolling as she begrudgingly shook her head. If it wasn't for her old acquaintance, the mercenary would've figured out a small way to annoy America's golden boy.

"Not this time, at least." The metal armed man reassured his childhood friend, who was getting the group of inhumans ready for the inhibitor pod on the quinjet. Gamora was busy glaring Y/N down, throwing her own blade up into the air a few times before charging at the human woman with no fear.

"What the-" Y/N screamed as the alien's dagger became the only thing her eyes could see, and without any other option, she climbed Bucky like a tree. Her torso hugging his face and her legs wrapped around his neck, "I'm sorry, pretty green lady!"

The super soldier, slightly unsure of what was happening, unarmed his teammate and shook Y/N off his shoulders. She fell to the grass with a small thud, quickly getting to her feet and backing away from the seething warrior.

"Let me stab her, it's only fair!" Gamora demanded, struggling in Bucky's vibranium grip. At this point, Steve had already transported the enhanced teens onto the quinjet and had come back to inspect and take inventory of the weaponry, only to find this scene playing out in front of him.

"I said I'm sorry!" She definitely wasn't, and although she didn't know the green woman, she knew it wouldn't end well if her apathy shone through. While Bucky held her back, Y/N knew this was her chance to dip out. After all, she was only here as a favour for a friend, it certainly wasn't worth getting injured over. But, against all better judgement and knowledge of stabby people, the mercenary decided to stay for a while longer.

"See, she's apologised, she didn't mean it." Bucky reasoned, pleading eyebrows raised at Gamora. His body didn't know whether to go into shock or revert to the way it used to react around Y/N, and got stuck between the two. He remembered so much of her; her squeaky laugh and scrunched nose at her own sardonic jokes, the dark chestnut hair lying under her luminous wig, her soft lips kissing his at the end of a mission. It came rushing back like blood to a sleepy limb.

"Alright, alright." Steve interjected, not wanting to escalate the situation, "Let's not forget why we're here." He eyed the merc specifically.

"Pffft," She batted her hand towards him passively, no longer in imminent danger as the green woman stood with her arms crossed, "you can have this one, Golden Boy. Something else has taken my interest."

Y/N made a mental note to buy Wade something to apologise for not getting the guns and ammunition he wanted. He wouldn't really care, probably moved onto some other enemy already. Steve began closing the crates of various weaponry, not caring for the young merc until he heard her voice ring, "Mind if I hitch a ride with you guys, if you're heading back to New York."

"Sure." Bucky insisted.

"We aren't-." Steve objected, glaring over at his best friend before amending his words, "Fine. Just don't mess with anything."

Gamora found the woman intriguing, so laid back yet clearly on a dark path. If they'd met under different circumstances, she would've welcomed another strong and calculating female into her life suffocated by testosterone. But the Zehoberei warrior's leg still seeped with blood, aching with each step, so she wasn't ready to give in so quickly.

They all made the walk back onto the quinjet fairly quickly, passing by the white pod which inhibited each of their powers without causing them any harm. Y/N had never been on such a technical aircraft before, amazed by all the lights and buttons. But Steve swatted her hand away before she could find out what they did, "Sit down and stay out of trouble."

"So, you been doing okay, James? Back in the real world, I mean." Y/N slumped down on the seat next to Bucky's frame. She unhooked her tactical belt and slid off the bright ginger wig, slinging it on the metal cabinet beside her.

Bucky eyed her up, finding her raised scarred brow oddly endearing, "Not at first, a lots changed since the forties." He nudged her shoulder as a sad look appeared on her face, "I'm alive though, been going to therapy. This is my first field mission, actually."

"Looks like my bad timing's paid off this time, then." Y/N looked up at him sincerely, finding familiar icy eyes staring into her own. He had changed so much, and not at all in the same breath. She'd never seen a smile on his lips before, usually covered by a mask during missions, yet it suited him so beautifully. He'd brushed his shoulder length hair behind his ear, watching his jaw clench and relax.

They chatted back and fourth about the past few years, no boundaries or judgements held in the space between them. Y/N actually did research about a customers background before accepting their offer, targeting her homicidal rage towards sex traffickers whenever she got the chance. She still held no permanent home, currently residing in an abandoned apartment a dozen blocks away. The super soldier offered that she could stay with him if she ever wanted, used to her company and lax attitude.

"Thanks James, I'll keep that in mind." She hopped down from the hangar's opening, marvelling at the acres of land surrounding the Avengers facility. Steve and Gamora had left a while ago, briefing Agent Johnson on the inhumans. So it was just the two of them, a warm wind flowing through their hair. Y/N stepped behind him, tying his hair half up in a pony tail to stop it from getting in his eyes.

"Thanks, Y/N/N." He beamed down at her, "It's been good having you around again, hopefully it doesn't take a bunch of rebel inhumans for us to see each other again."

"It better not." She smirked, a fuzzy feeling sitting in her stomach as her nickname left his lips like a melody, "Now since this little mission was a success on your part, I feel it's only fair we honour our tradition. Especially since it's been your first in a long time."

Bucky didn't even want to waste time responding with words, his cool metal hand finding it's way to her neck pulling her closer. Their eyes both fluttered shut, Y/N pulled herself up onto her tiptoes just as he leant down enough to bridge the gap. Her body shuddered all over as she felt him return the kiss and his free hand grip her waist ever so tightly.

Bucky broke away first, noticing the lust blown look in his little mercenary’s eyes as she blinked innocently up at him. After a beat, she hid her head in his chest, only for him to kiss the top of her head. “Don’t be a stranger, Y/N/N.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Y/N giggled, pulling away just enough to look up at the tall super soldier, “I can honestly say it would be my pleasure to fuck with Tony Stark and his band of merry men.”

“Invite me on your next job so we can do that again.”

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aenwoedbeannaa · 5 years ago

Text

Scrubbrush | Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: You have been traveling with Geralt for some time now and convince him to stop for a while to bathe in the stream you’ve just come across. Or, basically smut with no plot.

Warnings: Smut, fingering.

Word Count: this drabble turned into 3,412 words. It’s fine.

A/N: I simply could not stop myself. Hope you all enjoy! Just throwing this out there, I also created a ko-fi page. I will obviously continue to post fanfiction here just as I’ve always done, and do not expect anything from anyone, but it exists, if you’d like to show your support for my creative work in that way.

But obviously, the best way you all show your support to me is just by reading my work. So, thank you all endlessly for sticking around and reading!

If you enjoy my work, you can find all my work on my masterlist. You can also check out my personal blog where I post all kinds of things, including original writing. If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, let me know and I will add you!

***

The air is warm, the sun bearing down from directly above signaling high noon. You’ve been traveling for several days now, and all you want is a bath. Between the sun bearing down on you all day and the constant movement with little rest, you feel – to be quite frank – disgusting. The dirt and dust from the road somehow looks good on you Witcher companion; but you doubt it looks so nice on you.

You are at least a day and a half’s ride from the nearest town, meaning a bath is at least two and a half days away.

You sigh silently, not wishing to voice these particular concerns to Geralt. He doesn’t seem concerned about it, and you are certain he is not stealing glances at you the way you’ve been stealing glances at him. You try to tell yourself it doesn’t matter – with a rather low degree of success.

But as the two of you continue riding side-by-side, your mood lifts. In the distance, you can see a stream between the trees.

“Geralt!” you exclaim, shocking him out of his thought, “Let’s stop by the stream for a while.” You turn and look at him, batting your eyelashes without realizing you’re doing it. You aren’t quite sure about the Witcher’s feelings—he isn’t really one to express emotion—but you do know that pouting tends to work with him quite well.

“Hm,” Geralt mutters, thinking. “Guess we could stop and water the horses, and we’re going to need to refill the water skins anyway.”

Blushing slightly, you chew on your bottom lip as you look over at him, “It’s hot, Geralt.”

He lifts an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side in apparent confusion. “Yes?”

“I need to bathe, Geralt,” you explain, turning redder.

His eyes widen for a moment, but by the time he speaks a second later, he has collected himself again. “I’ll… prepare lunch.” The man, clearly used to travelling nearly nonstop, is pretty clueless when it comes to typical human behavior. You’ve pointed it out to him several times, and he’s not denied it.

You nod awkwardly, not exactly sure how you feel about the answer or what to make of his momentary loss of composure. Most likely, it is just awkwardness. You doubt that he is thinking any thoughts about joining you in the water. No, those are entirely of your own creation.

It doesn’t take long to reach the stream, where he helps you dismount as he’s been doing since the two of you began travelling together. You always find yourself slightly giddy as you take his hand and dismount, despite the fact that you have been riding horses for years and are quite capable of dismounting without help. But his large hand is deliciously rough, so you don’t complain.

You lead your horses over to a shallower part of the stream, allowing them to drink. You take the opportunity to dig through your saddlebags for a clean pair of trousers and white cotton shirt. You don’t have a towel, but you don’t mind. You bend over to let your fingers skim the surface of the water, smiling to yourself when you find it as deliciously cool as you imagined.

You scan the edge of the tree line until you find the stalks of green your mother had taught you about seemingly an entire lifetime ago. You bend over to pull a few stalks, the pieces easily detaching from the plant.

Geralt, in typical Witcher fashion, seems to sneak up behind you without the slightest warning. You gasp, feeling silly, considering the same thing had been happening for days. He smirks, shaking his head as you stand up, turning to face him. His amber eyes are fixed on the bunch of stalks in your hands. “What is that?” he asks.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Scrub brush,” you respond matter-of-factly. “I thought Witchers knew everything about plants and herbs.”

“Not that one,” Geralt says, reaching out and taking one of the cylindrical stalks, his hand brushing yours as he does so. You would almost swear it was intentional.

“Figures,” you say with a sigh. “You break it and put it in the water, like soap. Works in a pinch, but ‘course Witchers don’t bother with soap.” you say with a shrug.

Honestly, you are so eager to scrub every inch of your skin that the thought of using the rough plant sounds entirely pleasant.

Geralt looks at you, head cocked to the side in a smirk. “Are we really that bad?” he asks, gesturing vaguely at himself. Your eyes roam over his body for a moment, perhaps a little bit too obviously.

You surprise yourself when you speak next, “A wash wouldn’t hurt.” You look up at him through the curtain of your lashes, challenging him. “The stream is certainly big enough for the both of us.” Your expression, however, indicates that space is not exactly something you’re concerned about.

“Hm,” the Witcher says, a low rumble in his chest. His eyes seem to be burning into yours, making heat rise in your cheeks.

Taking advantage of the courage that smoldering gaze are giving you, you smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll turn around to protect your modesty.”

He laughs, that warm, rumbling sound that makes it feel as if your stomach has been replaced with butterflies, “Shall I walk away and let you change in the bushes?”

Your heart hammers in your chest, excited by his gaze. “And risk poison ivy?” you ask, “I’ll change on the bank. Close your eyes if you must.”

With that, you turn around, feeling quite bold as you walk to the bank, peeling off your sweat-stained shirt and tossing it to the side along with the fresh clothes. You pause for just a moment before unlacing your breeches and letting them pool around your ankles. You are too nervous to glance back at Geralt as you kick off your riding boots, leaving you in nothing but your small clothes.

You take a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to pull off your top, letting the breeze caress your bare skin. You pull your bottoms off next, swearing that you feel his eyes on your back. You stand there for another moment, wondering where exactly the courage you’d felt when you began your walk to the bank of the river went. Now, you are just nervously standing there feeling quite exposed wearing only a scrap of white silk clothing.

You freeze, considering your options. You can remove them and step into the water as you had originally planned, saving your ego. Or, you can let your pride take the hit and leave them on.

Thanks to a certain Witcher, you don’t get the chance to decide.

You gasp, once again not having heard him creep up behind you. You are only alerted to his presence when you feel his breath on your neck as he speaks from somewhere deep in his chest; a tone you’ve never heard from him before.

“Be careful, Miss. You never know when there might be drowners nearby…” Your skin prickles with goosebumps under the unexpected touch of his hand as it brushes down your back impossibly gently. “Or men with wandering eyes.”

You chew on your lower lip, heart hammering in your chest. It takes nearly all of your resolve to keep your head facing forward. “No sign of drowners,” you say smoothly before finally turning your head to look at the Witcher over your shoulder, “But wandering eyes?”

He looks down at you, his golden eyes alight with both desire and conflict. He opens his mouth as if he is about to speak, but no words come.

“What’s the matter, Witcher?” you ask, turning around to face him head-on. “Certainly, you’ve seen plenty of women nearly naked. Or is the sight of me that appalling?” The question you finish on rings slightly of truth and nerves. The Witcher has probably been with loads of women who are far more beautiful than you. Perhaps seeing you like this only disappoints him; makes him wish that it was someone else standing almost naked before him.

He bites his lower lip, shaking his head as if to clear it before finally speaking, “No… You look…” he stammers, searching for words that seem to be caught in his throat, “You have no idea how badly I’ve… wanted to see you – wanted to touch you.”

You smile despite yourself – looking far too eager and far too happy about this latest revelation. You blink up at him, bringing your free hand up to touch the cotton shirt he has stripped down to since dismounting, “Then why haven’t you?”

He sucks in a breath, eyes looking down at his chest where your hand rests for a moment, breathing out in a his, “Fuck.”

You look from your hand to his face before speaking, confused, “What?”

“It’s not appropriate… I shouldn’t…” he continues speaking painfully slowly, “You’re so innocent and—”

You cut him off with a burst of laughter, “Innocent and what… pure?”

You reach with your hand to pull at the already loose laces of his shirt. He sucks in a breath, his lower lip once again caught between his teeth. If you’re being honest, you have next to no experience in this sort of thing, but you are far from innocent. And, even if you were, you are pretty positive you wouldn’t care.

No man has ever made you feel quite like this. It wasn’t like you had no suitors back home – you had plenty. But none of them have quite captured your attention; perhaps it was just that you were more than ready to leave your boring little nowhere hometown, but they had all seemed so uninteresting. Geralt was anything but uninteresting.

“Yes,” he finally admits, “That.”

“I’m an adult, Geralt,” you counter, “I can’t stay like this forever, can I?” You bat your eyes at him.

Hesitantly, he reaches for you, letting his hand brush the hair back from your face and making you shiver in the process. You lean into his touch, savoring the feeling for his calloused fingers against your cheek. He hums appreciatively, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips.

“Geralt,” you sigh, wishing that he would do more than caress your face – as nice as it feels.

“Y/N,” he breathes, free hand wrapping around you and clutching you closer to him. The two of you stop, eyes fixed intensely at one another. Apparently unable to restrain himself any longer, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours gently.

You respond in kind, savoring everything – the way his shirt and firm muscles feel against the bare skin of his chest, the feeling of his hand pressed against the small of your back, the smell of him, and the taste of his lips moving so gently against yours.

His tongue eases your lips open with the utmost care. You gladly part or lips for him, moaning softly as his tongue explores your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. This kiss is so very different from every other kiss you’ve had. Most often, the mean you’d kissed had hungrily pressed their lips to yours, crushing you against them. Now – you’d have absolutely no complaints if Geralt were to do the same thing, but this was something different. You could feel the wanting in his kiss, somehow more intense than anything you’d experienced.

He wants me, you can’t stop repeating to yourself over and over again.

The two of you stand there, clutching at one another, lips pressed together and eyes closed, warmed by the high noon sun and lost to the world around you for what feels like an eternity but somehow not long enough.

When Geralt pulls away, you lean up on your toes, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips. He laughs lightly, cocking his head to the side as he smirks down at you. “Weren’t you planning on bathing?” he asks playfully.

“I was, until you interrupted,” you tease with a grin.

“Mhmm,” he growls softly, the sound alone making you weak at the knees. “Now don’t stop on my account.”

You look up at him, once again with wide innocent eyes that gleamed with something quite different. “You should join me. You really do have no sense of smell, Witcher.”

“If the Lady insists,” Geralt responds, this time without hesitation as he strips off his linen shirt and begins undoing his belt, “I’m interested to see how this scrub brush works, exactly.” You can’t help but stare, chewing on your lower lip as you watch him. It hits you in that moment that you’ve never actually seen a man naked before – you hadn’t wanted to. You’d always been certain that those village boys were just as uninteresting underneath their clothes as they were outside. Geralt, though… Is quite a different story.

Hesitantly, you step out of your underwear, resisting the urge to cover yourself up. Even with all that has transpired in the last few moments, you are worried that he won’t like what he sees. Those fears are quite immediately quelled, however, when he kicks off his boxers. You try not to let your eyes pop out of your head at the sight of him.

Without much warning, he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you over to the water’s edge and stepping in. You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries the two of you farther out until the water reaches his waist.

“Geralt!” you squeal as he tosses you into the cold water. Well, at least you’d adjust to the temperature quickly. When your head pops back out of the water, you turn to him with a pout, shaking your head and letting water cascade down your back. And then you splash him.

“So, this is the game you’d like to play?” Geralt asks with one eyebrow raised before diving easily beneath the water, moving with inhuman speed toward you, arms encircling your waist, giving you just enough time to hold your breath before he pushes forward, plunging you under.

You both come to the surface laughing, the water no longer feeling cold against your skin but pleasant. The Witcher catches your chin with his hand, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. He stares for a moment, enveloping you in amber light.

“Ench’eass,” he breathes, almost as if he is speaking to himself.

“What?” You know he is speaking in the Elder Speech, but the meaning is completely lost on you.

“Enchanting,” he responds. “You are enchanting.”

You grin, feeling the familiar heat of a blush on your cheeks. Geralt, however, has an intense look on his face – full of need and wanting. He crashes his lips to yours, much less gentle this time – but you are not complaining. His tongue parts your lips again and you moan into the kiss, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest.

His hands caress your skin underneath the water, and you arch your back, pressing your body against his, wanting to feel your skin touching every inch of him as possible. You let out another disappointed sigh when he pulls his lips back from yours, but that sigh soon turns into a soft moan as he brings his lips first to your jaw and then to your neck, making you throw your head back, giving him complete access to the sensitive skin of your throat.

You feel his lips twitch up into a smile as he continues to explore you with his lips and tongue, making you draw in little sharp breaths as unfamiliar pleasure washes over you. The soft sounds seem to please Geralt, because you can actually feel the almost primal growl where your chest is pressed against him.

“Geralt,” you breathe, dragging your fingers down his chest, memorizing the feeling of each scar they graze over.

“Yes?” he asks softly, pulling away just enough to look into your eyes, drinking in the sight of you breathing heavily.

“Nothing…” you admit, not quite knowing the words you want to use or are supposed to use in this situation. “That just… feels good.”

He laughs, letting his hands drift lower, over your ass and down the backs of your thighs. You shiver again, sucking in another breath as his fingers caress circles on your skin.

“You’re shivering and I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

Those words, naturally, make you shiver again as warmth pools in your core. You with that he would touch you like he’s talking about. “Please,” you mutter against his chest where you’ve pressed your lips.

“Please what?” he asks haughtily, looking quite amused with himself.

“Please… touch me….” You are stammering, unable to come up with words. “Like… that.”

Geralt smirks down at you, hooking his hands under you knees, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“As you wish,” he says. Thanks to the water, he is able to support you with almost no effort; your arms wrapped around hi neck and your legs wrapped around his waist are enough. He takes advantage of this, letting one hand move to your breasts, grazing over your nipple and making you moan once more. His other hand slips under your ass, and you moan as his fingers gently move over your folds, coming to rest gently on your clit.

Your breath catches in your throat as he freezes there for a moment, amber eyes fixed intently on yours. You seem held there by some unseen force as he begins to move his finger in small, gentle circles, making you moan and throw your head back. No one has ever touched you there before, and you are already drunk on the feeling.

“I’ve wondered what you would look like when I did this to you, Baby.” His words seem to amp up the feeling of electricity building in your core, your mouth opening in a permanent ‘o’. He speeds up slightly, increasing the pressure. It feels so different than when you touch yourself; it feels so much better.

He continues his ministrations, working you with his fingers as his other hand slips from your breasts and down your back. His finger explores your opening for a moment, not pressing in but circling gently before letting his finger enter just inside. Your walls spasm around the tip of his finger, urging him deeper. He obliges, beginning to pump first one finger, than two, in and out of you slowly.

At this point, you are mewling against him, hips moving of their own accord to draw him deeper and deeper. You let out a long, drawn out moan as he adds a third large finger, stretching you deliciously. The pleasure he is making you feel only growing as he curls his fingers gently against that spot inside of you.

“Geralt!” you yell, “Gods, don’t stop!”

“Oh, Baby,” he smirks, “I won’t stop until you’ve come all over my fingers and go limp in my arms,” he says in that deep, primal way that he’s never spoken to you before.

He continues curling his fingers against the most sensitive place inside you while he continues to relentlessly rub your sensitive little nub. You babble incoherently, telling him you are about to cum, and he brings his lips to your neck, biting the sensitive flesh there and making you squeal.

It doesn’t take long before you’re arching your back and clawing at his back, moaning long and loud as the delicious tension that has been building up to the moment that you convulse under the word of his fingers, walls clenching around him and body seeming to move of its own accord as he helps you ride out your orgasm, only stopping once you’ve indeed gone limp in his arms, body spent from such a rush of pleasure.

“Geralt,” you mutter, feeling his hardness against you and desperately wanting to feel him inside you.

However, he simply smirks at your efforts to move your hips in line with his member, cocking his head to the side and smiling at you teasingly. “Uh uh,” he says with a shake of his head. Didn’t we come in here to bathe.”

That is about the last thing on your mind as you look up at him, eyes fixed on his as you crash your lips to his once more.

Taglist: @fairytale07 @geeksareunique @jesseswartzwelder @haru-ririchiyo @unnamedmaincharacter @lazilyscentedwerewolf @valkyriepuff @comicbeginning @alwayshave-faith @hp-hogwartsexpress @curlyhairedandconfused @superconfusedandreadytorumble @keithseabrook27 @missemmalie

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geralt fanfiction #geralt smut #witcher smut #witcher fic #fanfiction #geralt x fem!reader

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sunflowers-rae · 4 years ago

Text

Pray - Katsuki Bakugo

The first in a possible song inspired series called Stage Fright

Inspired by the song Pray by Xana

Warnings: a little swearing and a lot of dirty dancing

Characters are all aged 18+

1,683 Words

The common room was busy this Friday night as everyone from class 1-A got set up for the small party they were having. You were busy putting snacks in serving bowls when Mina popped up beside you.

“Y/n!” she giggled excitedly, taking the bowl from your hands. “Denki and Sero are almost done setting up the Karaoke machine! Are you planning on doing a song?” Everyone in the area turned their heads to you in curiosity.

“Yeah, y/n!” Izuku piped up from across the island, “We’ve known you for years and I don’t think any of us have heard you sing before!”

You smile sheepishly, cheeks turning a light pink. “Well, I have pretty bad stage fright, so I never really sing in front of people.” You glance across the room and meet a pair of bright red eyes staring right at you. “I don’t think I would do too well up there…” you trailed off, tearing your eyes away from the blonde.

Kirishima came up on your other side and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Ya know, Bakubro has a thing for people who face their fears.” He smirked when he said it, seeing your face flush red.

Everyone in the class knew about your not-so-subtle crush on Katsuki after Hagakure had accidentally yelled it out when you told her. No one could figure out what you saw in him. You were sweet and innocent, always happy and smiling. Bakugo was, well, Bakugo.

“You know what, I think I will sing something.” You said, shooting a hard glare at the boy who was still staring at you. “Mina, why don’t you come help me pick out an outfit?”

~~~

The party was in full swing and you found yourself sitting around the makeshift stage with your classmates. Denki and Mina were singing their hearts out to some song they found on Tiktok that was definitely not meant to be a duet, both doing the dance that goes with it when the chorus comes.

“Who’s up next?” Shoji’s voice suddenly coming from your left made you jump.

Jiro laughed slightly, “y/n is up next, then Izuku, then Momo after him!” You settled back into your seat, adjusting your outfit. The song was almost over and you were starting to get nervous again, considering skipping your turn all together.

“Y/n is singing? In front of people? This y/n? The y/n that won’t even hum if she thinks we can hear her?” Sato’s teasing tone distracted you from your worry and you stood up, hip checking him with a smile.

“Hey!” You grin, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulder. “Just because I haven’t done it before, doesn’t mean I can’t!” Playfully batting his arm off of you, you stick your tongue out at him. Before he can respond, the music dies down, signaling the end of The Electric Duo’s performance. “Ah shit.” You groan, head rolling forwards.

The snippy voice you knew all too well snapped you back to reality. “Tch, you won’t do it. You know you won’t do it. We all know you won’t do it! Why don’t you just back out now before you make yourself look stupid, Angel.” Katsuki’s teasing nickname for you sounding more venomous than usual. He started calling you Angel the first week of school when you were assigned to the villain team for the practice battles. You did not do well at being bad and he often picked on you for being sweet and innocent.

“Oh fuck off, Kacchan.” You bit back at him, flipping him off. “You clearly don’t know me as well as you think.” You spun on your heel and took the mic from Mina, climbing onto the stage. Your heart was racing when you gave Jiro a thumbs up. She mirrored your action and the music began.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, singing the first verse with your eyes still closed.

Tell me what’d you get yourself into

It’s not like I’m gonna stay with you

The demons in my head

I bring ‘em all to bed

Tuck ‘em in the sheets

Let ‘em dance ‘tween our feet

The room was completely silent, everyone staring wide eyed at you. No one had expected you to make it this far, let alone for that voice to come out of you. Even Mina, who had listened to you quietly practice in your dorm room was shocked to hear you sound so confident.

You opened your eyes, drinking in the astonished faces of your classmates. You weren’t a bad singer. In fact, you were a very good singer! You were just nervous about singing in front of people.

Baby’s all dressed up in white

Crazy girl knows what I like

You found Katsuki’s gaze and held it, singing the next lines right to him.

Lover haven’t you heard

The Devil was an angel first

His eyes grew impossibly wider when you smirked at him, feeling yourself fill with confidence. You loosened up and walked over to the microphone stand, placing the mic in the holder. You sang out the chorus as Mina and Denki started cheering from the couch where they were sitting. Your eyes scanned the room to find every single person watching you with interest as you sang.

Seeing Katsuki staring at you open mouthed gave you a wonderful idea. You pointed to Sero and motioned for him to join you on the stage. His face lit up when he realized what you were plotting. He hopped up on the stage as you took the microphone back into your hands. You pulled him against you by his collar with one hand and the two of you danced against each other for the entire second verse.

Red lipstick, hot on my kiss

Thinking that you got this

Honey, you don’t know what’s comin’ for ya

There’s a fire in my ribs

You feel it when we kiss

It’s something dangerous

You broke away from him and he moved behind you, placing his hands on your hips as you looked dead at Katsuki with a look that could kill.

Now I’m thinking maybe we should ditch this

I know with me, you’ll get a little bit addicted

Your hand reaches down to tug on the hem of your little white dress as you swayed against Sero, still keeping eye contact with Katsuki.

Sugar’s pulling up her skirt

The Devil was an angel first

Half of the class was still staring at you while you sang the chorus, the other half looking between Bakugo and Sero. Mina and Denki were absolutely losing their minds seeing you like this. The two of them knew that you had it in you, but neither of them expected to see it come out in front of anyone but them. The fact that you were absolutely killing it on stage and making Bakugo noticeably flustered was causing them to go nuts cheering you on.

And I could be good

I know that I should

But heaven closed the gates on me

Sero moves so that his arms are wrapped against you, holding you to him as he continues dancing against you,

Golden to the touch

You miss me so much

But heaven closed the gates on me

On me

Heaven closed the gates on me

You unwrap yourself from Sero’s hold and push him back, causing him to hop back off of the stage. With a smirk, you belt the rest of the song, head thrown back, losing yourself in the music,

And when she lays down to pray at night

She’ll be screaming my name

Katsuki could barely contain his disbelief when he heard that line come out of your mouth. He wanted to kill Sero for getting to dance with you in that manner while you were in this state. Never before did he think that he would be so enamored by the class Angel. He definitely didn’t think he would ever find himself thinking about all of the dirty things he wanted to do to you.

She’ll be screaming my name

Mm mm m mm

As the song finished, your eyes fell closed and Mina came flying towards the stage to engulf you in a hug. The rest of the class slowly followed her lead when the shock started wearing off.

“Holy shit, y/n! That was insane!” Hagakure yelled.

“Of all the things you could have done, I was not expecting that!” Ojiro said with his hand on his neck.

“I’m very impressed, you have very good control,” Shoto said, straight faced as always.

You smiled, face growing hot from all of the attention. “Thanks everyone, could you please let me go? I’d like to get a glass of water…” Everyone broke off and went back to where they were before as Izuku was ranting to Jiro about how he wasn’t sure he wanted to follow your act.

When you finally made your way to the kitchen, you grabbed a plastic cup from the counter and filled it with water from the sink. You turned around and leaned against the counter, holding it with your free hand.

“What the fuck was that?” You choked a bit when you heard the voice. No one else was in the kitchen when you had entered and you didn’t realize someone had followed.

“What do you mean? You didn’t think I would do it, so I did.”

Katsuki let out a dramatic sigh and moved to stand directly in front of you. “I don’t care about that! Why would you pull Tape Face up with you? Why would you sing a song like that in front of everyone?” He grabbed your arms and pulled you against him. “This outfit isn’t you,” he breathed. “None of this is the Angel I know.” His tone was accusatory and angry, but you could hear the confusion behind the words.

“Maybe that’s because you never took the time to get to know me.”

His gaze softened as he looked you over. “How about we change that?”

#should I do more of these?#this is my first ever fic #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

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Who's Side Are You On? (Part Eight)

The Terminator (1984) reader insert.

Warnings: injury, mention of death, mention of torture

Context: (Y/n) reveals her secret to Sarah.

A/N: sorry this is late, I was too tired to write last night 😅

Masterlist

My features are sallow and drawn as I climb off of the motorcycle, my breathing shallow and uncomfortable as I try not to wince, my head spinning in the heat of the day. Perspiration coats my brow, each of my steps slow and uncoordinated as I hobble over to Sarah and Kyle, who have just exited the truck they hitchhiked in, my brother shooting me a worried glance as he notices my clear discomfort, eyes swiftly taking in the haphazardly concealed pain behind each movement I make, only looking away again when I make eye contact. Averting my gaze, I scan the area, taking note of the sign, glad that we stopped at a motel off the beaten track, somewhere where it'll be harder to find us, though knowing the Terminator on our trail, this won't necessarily work for too long.

Sarah leads the way over to the front desk, where a dog is chained to the outside of it, which Kyle and I instinctually hold our hands out to, letting it take our scents without really needing to. I stand back behind the two of them, trying to keep my unwell appearance out of sight, aware that I look terrible, and totally out of place. After some quick negotiation, Sarah has booked us a room with a kitchen and shower, something Kyle and I specifically requested, my wound urgently needing cleaning and re-bandaging, a damp sensation having surrounded the area from my constant movement and strain when riding the motorcycle, though I'm glad I took it, as it is much faster than I thought it would be.

Leading the way inside, Sarah takes us to the correct room and opens the door, at which point I instantly go to the table and sit at one of the chairs, leaning back in it as I take the weight off of my wound, gritting my teeth in pain as the hole stretches and tears again, the rudimentary stitches Kyle put in the night before pulling apart. I roll up my shirt, grimacing as I catch sight of the bloody bandage there, very little white still remaining visible through the crimson stains. Breathing hard, I go to remove the bandage, only for Kyle to stop me, signalling that I should shower first, just to clean off the skin around it, so that dirt doesn't get into the wound itself.

"And what about you? Doesn't yours need reapplying?" I point out, gesturing to his arm.

"I guess, but I need to get some things..."

"No, you stay here and get that cleaned, then help me with mine, then go out. We can't afford for you to get an infection." I instruct him, mentioning towards the sink, non-verbally advising him to follow what I'm telling him.

"Fine, fine. Sarah, would you mind helping me with this?" The soldier asks, looking over at our ward with a hopeful expression.

"Sure." She agrees, going over to help him remove his bandage as I get up and walk to what I'm assuming is the bathroom, the layout near enough foreign to me. Wincing with every step, I climb into the box-like structure in the corner, sliding the glass door shut behind me, only to realise I need to take off my clothes before I do this, at which point I quickly exit, strip, and return, puzzling over the device before me.

Thankfully quick on the uptake, I manage to figure it out, surprised by the stream of warm water flowing from the odd protruding thing, flinching away initially, though I soon relax into the soothing sensation of the heated liquid flowing down my body. I inhale sharply as I brush my fingers over the wound, gritting my teeth against the spikes of pain as I wash the surrounding area clean of blood and dirt, being as thorough as I can, going over previous scars with some hesitation, some of them more recent than others.

Habitually, I don't take long to wash, making sure I've done the bare minimum before stepping out and drying off with what I assume is a towel, pulling on my clothes and boots again as I do so, going back into the main room again to find the other two sat at the table, Kyle's arm now bandaged again. Feeling refreshed but still in pain, I go to join them, seating myself with a grimace as I roll up my shirt, intending to remove the bandage and clean the injury properly. Instantly, Kyle has come to my side, batting my hands away as he takes over from what I'm doing, making me bite down hard on my lip as blood rushes from the re-opened wound, staining my skin a deep shade of red. Kyle's hands are soon coated in it, leaving even more marks as he works at cleaning and stitching it up, covering it with another bandage as he finishes, the white square a harsh contrast to the crimson colour of the skin around it.

Once finished, Kyle washes his hands using the sink in the corner, before going to the window to check that the coast is clear.

"I'm gonna go get supplies. You two stay here." He says without waiting for a reply, walking abruptly out of the door.

Sarah and I sit in silence for a few moments, neither of us saying a word, or making a move, our eyes focusing on anything but each other, awkwardness soon filling the air like a bitter cloud. Eventually, she mutters something about showering and gets up, heading into the bathroom, leaving me alone again.

Sighing, I reach for the handgun in my belt, deciding to clean it whilst I have time, my shaking hands dissembling the weapon as if it is second nature, which, in some ways, it is. As I work, I lay out each piece on the table in a neat order, making sure I know where each part is, finishing by checking the clip, which is only half full. Frowning, I check my pockets for any more ammo, only to find that the dangerous version of me has used to nearly everything I had. Frustrated, I start cleaning each part of the weapon, being as thorough as possible, slotting them back together as I go, the gun soon taking shape again as I work through them. The action takes me close to half an hour, my efficiency severely limited by the tremors wracking my hands, the blood loss having finally caught up to me as my head starts to spin slightly, nausea setting in with each passing second. Ignoring it, I reload the gun and chamber a round, just to be ready for anything.

"Who taught you how to do that?" Sarah's voice behind me surprises me, making me start slightly in response to heading it. Turning, I look up at her and reply.

"My parents did. In the future, it's the kind of thing you have to be adept at. They just made sure I learnt as soon as I could." I inform her, thinking back to the hours my father spent drilling the names of each individual part into my head, along with every tactical piece of knowledge he could think of.

"Oh, well I guess that makes sense." She muses, going to the other side of the room, where she picks up the phone.

"What're you doing with that?" I ask her, wary of it.

"I'm gonna call my mother and let her know I'm alright."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not?" Her voice turns cold, eyes hardening as she looks me over.

"Because there's every possibility that the Terminator got to her first."

"How could it possibly know anything about her?!" Sarah shakes her head and starts dialling, ignoring my exasperated shake of the head, before proceeding to talk with her mother.

Ten minutes pass, during which I zone out of her conversation, only tuning back in again as I realise what exactly she's telling her relative. My head snaps in her direction and I gesture for her to stop, drawing my hand over my throat in a "shut up!" motion. Lifting an eyebrow, she finishes what she's saying and lowers the phone, her mother having hung up on her.

"You'd better hope that was actually your mother." I sigh, leaning my head back.

"Why wouldn't it be? It sounded exactly like her."

"The new Terminator models can impersonate voices that they have heard. It's entirely likely that you were speaking to it over the phone, because there's no way anyone could tell the difference between the voices." I explain to her, rubbing my head.

"It was definetly her." Sarah insists, though she doesn't seem entirely sure of herself anymore, "How do you know that, anyway? Kyle never said anything about it before."

I close my eyes and sigh again, opening them to look her in the eye.

"He doesn't know about it yet. I do because I can do it."

Confusion floods her face, her head cocking to the side as she processes what she's heard.

"You can do it? What do you mean? Has it got something to do with you going completely crazy every time the Terminator shows up?" She questions, curiosity winning her over.

I look at her carefully, deciding to tell her exactly what she needs to know, aware of the fact that it could prove dangerous to her if she doesn't.

"In theory, you're right. It does have something to do with that, but it is not the Terminator that is the problem. Back home, I was captured by some of them and taken back to one of their manufacturing compounds. At first I was convinced that they were going to torture me and try and get information out of me, but they didn't, they just locked me in a red room. It was tiny, there was nothing inside it and I was never fed anything except some water to keep me alive.

"In the beginning, they just left me alone, leaving me to wonder what the hell they actually wanted with me, and what they were eventually gonna do to me. I never found out from them. It all started with the gas, which they pumped into the room using the air vents in the ceiling, using this to put me under for a few hours at a time, keeping me unaware of what was going on. For days on end, I had holes in my memory, nothing quite adding up, everything else disjointed, until I found myself lying face down on the battlefield one day.

"I had no idea why I was there, or how I even got there, but all I knew was that I was surrounded by members of the Resistance, who had guns pointed at my head. They knocked me out cold again and took me back to one of the bases, where I woke up again chained to a table. They had figured out what was wrong with me."

I pause, lifting a hand to trace the scar on my face.

"They told me that I had a metal plate implanted behind my right eye, which had been replaced by an artificial one, which worked as a mind control device of sorts. The plate had hooks wired into my brain, allowing it to send it's own electrical impulses into my nervous system, controlling my movements and actions as if it were me doing them. It had a stimulus attached to it, which was triggered by a frequency emitted only from HKs, which would then turn me into a lethal killing machine for a certain amount of time.

"I was horrified when I found out: I could kill anyone I loved, and not think twice about it, all beacuse of the plate on my skull. I begged them to try and reprogram it, to make me a more effective weapon for the Resistance to use, rather than Skynet. They tried, they really did, but something went wrong. The stimulus changed to the sound of gunshots, but the control over my actions is now up to a mixture of programming from Skynet and the Resistance; I don't respond to either, and I will kill anyone who has been previously listed on my target list. I don't register pain and don't recognise anyone. I only come round again after an hour or two of no gunshots being heard in the surroundings, otherwise the time is reset and I stay the killing machine that I am."

Silence encompasses the two of us as I finish, Sarah looking as if she wants to say something, or come to me, though I look away, feeling awkward at the grim reality.

"So...so you're not in control when it happens?" She eventually asks, trying to break the silence.

"No, I'm not. The chip in my head controls me based on previous commands it received when being programmed." I laugh dryly, "I'm half human, half cyborg at this point. I'm an abomination."

At that point, Kyle walks back in, carrying brown paper bags filled with supplies.

"I'm gonna go keep watch." I say as he enters, feeling the need to be alone for the minute, internally cursing myself and what I am, knowing that the success of the mission very much relies on me.

Without waiting for a response, I push past Kyle and go outside, taking my handgun with me as I go to find somewhere to sit.

Part Nine

#terminator imagine #terminator #terminator 1984 #arnold schwarzenegger #linda hamilton #michael biehn

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peppersonironi · 4 years ago

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For @duketectivecomics‘s Duke Week Day Five: Leadership (A day late, I know, but I had wifi trouble)

Summary: Nightwing offers Signal a chance to lead a small group for a mission. Duke is wary, but accepts the challenge. He proves to be a rather great leader.

Notes: Takes place after Season Two of Young Justice, and ignores Season Three (I still haven’t seen it, unfortunately).

“So will you do it?” Duke looked over at Dick, who had decided to brave the day as Nightwing in order to ask a favor.

“I’m not sure, Nightwing, That’s your team, and I’m perfectly happy taking care of Gotham.”

Dick pouted and dramatically flung himself over the nearest gargoyle. “You sure? I could really use the help. Don't you want to lend aid to your poor, poor brother?”

“You are literally a billionaire.”

“Ha ha, Signal. You know what I mean.”

Duke sighed and joined Dick beside the gargoyle. “Yeah, I do. Are you sure you need me? Why not Tim? Steph? Heck, even Damian would love the chance to boos those guys around.”

Dick sighed. “I told you, The mission occurs at the same time as one on the opposite side of the world, which I already have Tim scheduled for. Steph is woking a case in Hong Kong with Cass. And Frankly, I doubt the Team would appreciate Damian's … style of leadership. This one is smaller, and less of a priority. I have some of the newbies and more older members on it, but none of them have experience with leading stealth missions.”

“So give one of them the experience!” Duke was getting a bit exasperated. Why did Dick think it would be a good idea to handle a mission on a covert team he'd never even met before?

“It's not that simple.” Dick frowned. “This mission is time sensitive, and delicate. It really does need someone with experience leading it, but all my best people are elsewhere.”

Duke tilted his head, considering. “Why me?”

Dick laughed. “Why NOT you? Seriously, Signal. You handled a whole group of Robins, by yourself. No Batman. You proved yourself, and you've earned respect. I trust you with this.”

Duke considered, thinking through everything Dick had said. “Alright,” He sighed, “What's the mission?”

*****

“Team, I'd like you to meet Signal. He'll be joining you on the mission, as well as over seeing things.” Nightwing stood at the front of the group of heroes, turning to where Duke had just come in from the zeta tubes.

Duke walked forward, surveying the group. “ 'Sup?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.

“Signal, meet Beast Boy, Kid Flash, Wonder Girl, and Blue Beatle.”

Duke nodded and extended his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“I've been waiting to meet you for so long, dude!” Kid Flash said, racing forward to shake Duke's hand. “I've heard all about you, but the dates on when you actively joined the guys in Gotham were murky, and since I couldn't ask Nightwing or Robin – wait, does that mean Tim's no longer Robin? Why didn't he say anything? Unless the history books got it wrong, in which case woah, sorry I said anything – anyway it was a bit of a tricky situation. Of course, I probably could have looked it up on the internet, but that feels like cheating y'know?”

Duke blinked several times. “Um, thanks, I guess? I didn't really think anyone bothered with me.”

“Are you kidding?!” Kid Flash was literally bouncing at this point. “You're one of the coolest bats! You patrol during the day, for one thing, plus your costume is pretty crash. Not to mention you're literally the only meta human Batman has ever let stay in Gotham! Although Black Bat might be one, no one was ever really clear on that.”

“You're a meta human?!” Beast Boy asked, shoving Kid Flash to the side. “Seriously? And you work with Batman?! How does that work?”

Duke laughed. “Yes, I am a meta. No, Black Bat isn't. She's just awesome. And I was Batman's protege before I gained my powers. When we found out, we kinda just rolled with it.”

“Translation,” Nightwing added, “He grumbled a bit before deciding that the rule only really covers Green Lantern.”

“Didn't it always though?” Duke asked his brother.

Nightwing laughed. “Probably. He never seemed to keen on Superman either, to be honest.”

Duke frowned. “Wait, then why did he stop by for tea last week?”

“Wait, he did?! Why wasn't I invited?!”

Duke shook his head and tsked. “Downside to no longer living at the house dude, that's all I'm saying.”

The Team was looking back and forth at the exchange. “Wait,” Blue Beatle said, holding up his hands. “Superman comes over for tea, at Batman's house, which you live in, but Nightwing doesn't anymore?”

“Yup,” Both of the bats said.

Blue Beatle blinked, then nodded. “Alright then.”

“What are your powers,” Wonder girl asked.

“Light stuff, basically,” Duke said. “I can see in several different light spectrums, lets me do a bunch of stuff, like limited x-ray vision. I can also 'replay' what happens in rooms, due to the light residue. I can also see a few seconds into the future.”

Everyone blinked at him.

“Not to mention you can control shadows!” Nightwing added helpfully.

Duke cringed. “Yeah, but that's new. I'm not really familiar with it.”

Everyone stared, except Kid Flash, who just continued bouncing.

“Alright,” Nightwing said after a moment, “Let's get on with the briefing.”

*****

The mission was simple: Infiltrate a high rise owned by Lex Luther in San Francisco, and retrieve information that was being stored on a hard drive. Said drive was only going to be present in the tower for twelve hours, nine of which Lex was also present. Hence the need for a small team, and the precise timing.

The infiltration was scheduled at 1400 hours, after Lex had left for lunch, and before the buyer of the information had arrived. Duke had been given the plans of the building, and multiple suggested strategies. One of these strategies was modified by Duke, and was what led Beast Boy (who insisted Duke call him Garth) turning into a fly in order to get through the vents.

“Are you sure I can't go for something more fun?” Garth asked on the way to San Francisco, “Like a snake? Maybe even a monkey!”

“No,” Duke had said, “A fly is the best option, it's the least likely to set off motion sensors.” At the disappointed face, however, Duke conceded, “You can be a monkey when you open the side entrance.” Garth had whooped in triumph, and Duke had to crack a smile.

Once Beast Boy had managed to get into the building, he made his way to the main security center and dismantled whatever detection systems Lex had in place, allowing Kid Flash (Bart, Duke learned) and Signal himself to make their entrance. The trio made their way to Lex's office, only needing to take out a single guard, and retrieve the hard drive from one of Lex's many (There were like thirty, sheesh) safes in the room. The cracking of said safe took longer than initially planned, but Duke managed to hack the system in time for the guard change. Boy was he glad Tim taught him how to hack.

With the target in hand, they made their way out to the back alley, where Blue Beatle (Jaime, he said his name was) and Wonder Girl (Cassie) were keeping watch. They were almost caught at one point, but Duke saw the guards coming and quickly shoved his teammates into a closet, along with himself. In the end, two guards who were lagging behind on their shift change intercepted them, but Blue Beetle knocked one out, and Wonder Girl got the other.

“Took you long enough,” Cassie said with a grin when she saw the trio returning.

Duke grinned right back at her. “You have any trouble?”

“If these two count as trouble,” She replied, kicking one of the goons.

“Sounds crash!” Kid Flash replied. “How about we get out of here before something blows up?”

Duke frowned. “Why would anything blow up?”

Everyone turned and gave him a look. “You'd be surprised,” Blue Beetle said.

“Better not jinx it, then.” Duke spook, and the team made their escape.

*****

“ - Complete insubordination! Do you know what you did?!”

Duke paused at the doors, looking in on the meeting room where he and the others were supposed to go for their debriefing. Turns out, the other part of the Team was already there, and being chewed out by Batman himself.

“This was supposed to be a covert mission, and you go and get the entire building blown up!” Huh, they weren't kidding about explosions, Duke thought. “You clearly disobeyed the mission parameters, opting instead to joyride with the robots you were sent to destroy! Do you know how many lives you put in danger?!”

“It wasn't our fault!” Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin (Though Duke thought Bart mention that he still went as Robin here? Boy, Damian was gonna be pissed!) told Batman. “The robots got activated remotely, and dragged us along. In the end, they self destructed!”

Batman sighed, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I let Kaldur go one one vacation …”

“You can at least acknowledge we got the job done.” Tim said, and Bruce sighed once more. He looked so tired, and Duke could barely hold in a grin. From the scared faces of everyone else in the room, Duke gathered that no one else found it quite so funny.

“Yes, you got it done,” Batman conceded, “But your methods are far from acceptable! All of you need to reevaluate how you-”

“It's almost kinda funny when I'm not the one being chewed out!” Duke turned to find Jaime and Garth standing in the door beside him, the latter of whom had spoken.

“Oh it's definitely funny,” Duke replied. “I've had front row seats to these types of things since I joined the bats. I”m almost never the one in trouble. Surprised it's Tim, though. Usually Nightwing.”

Both of their eyes widened. “Nightwing is the one in trouble?”

“Yup. We – the other bats and I – have a running bet on how long the rants last. B's best record is two hours, fifty minutes, thirty-seven seconds. It was right after Nightwing spray painted the bat-suit glittery pink, though I'm pretty sure Spoiler helped.”

Jaime opened and closed his mouth for a few moments. “Wow.”

Just then, Bart and Cassie showed up. “Are we late for the debriefing?” The latter asked.

Duke shrugged and pointed into the room, where Batman had moved onto a rant about aerial combat and unneeded fuel. “Nope, There's is running late.”

The group turned and went back to viewing the scene before them. After another fifteen minutes, Batman said. “I have another team coming in soon for debriefing, so let's hope that they were at least partially competent.”

Duke thought that would be as good a place as any to make an entrance, so he brought his fist to his mouth and coughed a bit.

Everyone turned slowly to find the grinning group standing at the doorway.

“Signal,” Batman said, and Duke knew he was relieved, “Did you just get back?”

“We've been standing here for twenty minutes, B. Seriously, your lecturing skills have not gone unpracticed.”

Batman sighed, putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose, not a sight unfamiliar to Duke, but from the gaping mouths, Duke was pretty sure no one else thought anything about the exchange was normal. “Please tell me your mission went well?”

“Without a hitch,” Duke replied grinning. “We got in and out easily. Had a tad of trouble with hacking the safe, but we got it open.” Duke turned to Tim, “Thanks for those lessons last week, they really paid off.”

Tim grinned “Welcome. Wanna continue when we get home?”

Duke nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Were there any complications?” Batman growled.

“We took out three guards quietly, and avoided two more that I saw coming right before they turned a corner, but other than that, no.”

Batman glared suspiciously down at Duke, who only smiled. “Any explosions?”

Duke frowned. “What is it with this team and explosions?” Batman glared some more, “Calm down B, no explosions. Everything was quiet.”

Batman nodded. “Good job, Signal. You dropped off the target with Nightwing, I assume?” At Duke's nod, he continued, “You get head back to Gotham, then. Finish your report in the cave, and finish up your patrol if you want. I'll make a note on the file if we ever need you again.” He paused, and looked critically at Duke. “Would you?”

Duke looked back at Garth, Jaime, Bart, and Cassie, who were all nodding their heads furiously. “Sure,” Duke said, “Why not?”

#dukeweek2020 #duke thomas #the signal #Young Justice #Nightwing #Beast Boy #Kid Flash #Wonder Girl #blue beatle #leadership

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