#kid flash ficlet

[hypewinter]

This was fine. This was totally fine. The ghost bull Danny was currently trying to wrangle crashed through another wall. Okay. Maybe this wasn't totally fine but he had it all under control. The bull bucked as it smashed a car. He was trying alright? As Danny just barely managed to steer the bull away from another building, he caught a red and yellow blur. Oh joy! A hero. And when he was just plain old Danny Fenton too. Nothing could go wrong in this situation, nothing at all.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #hyper prompts #this was sitting in my drafts for the longest time #i was gonna turn it into a whole ficlet but i lost the energy #instead have this lead on prompt! #because i still think it's a nifty idea and don't want to waste it #the blur is kid flash btw #the young justice sees a kid riding a giant green bull through a city #and goes 'hmm' we should probably do something about that

[indigosabyss]

"This," Speed pinched the bridge of his nose, "Is my younger brother Billy."

Wally stared at the boy in front of him, virtually identical to Speed in every way, except his hair was dark brown. He looked a bit taller, too, but that was mostly because of how he didn't slouch like his brother.

Billy rolled his eyes at Speed, "We're twins." He gestured with his arm, and that movement made Wally realize the hoodie he was wearing wasn't a normal galaxy patterned fabric. It was shifting around, as if reflecting actual stars from the night sky.

As if noticing his stares, Billy grinned, "Like it? It's connected to a galaxy back home. Where I'm taking this guy back to."

"Billy can manipulate reality." Speed explained to Wally off-handedly, "And why are you even here? No calls for months, and suddenly you're worried about me again?"

They were going to argue more, Wally was sure of it, but before they could, he blurted out: "I know that maybe Captain Marvel has probably given me the wrong impression, but all Billys are just like this, huh?"

Billy and Speed looked at each other, nonplussed, "What?"

#wally's thought process: all billys are predisposed to be ridiculously good at magic #billy's thought process: IM CAPTAIN MARVEL HERE????? #(he doesnt know how different this universe is from his lol) #fanfiction #billy kaplan #wiccan #tommy shepherd #speed #wally west #kid flash #young justice #young avengers #billy batson #ibis ficlets

[audhd-nightwing]

Birdflash Week (Day 2)

@birdflashweek

“Have we met before? I swear I know you.”

Identity reveal

Dick wasn’t quite sure how he ended up in this situation. One moment he was rushing towards his nearest safehouse to change into his Nightwing suit, the next he was in a shelter with other civilians.

The answer became obvious as a blur of red deposited more people in the safe zone- one of the Flashes had evacuated him. He groaned internally- being mistaken for a civilian was exactly what he didn’t need when there was an alien army invading Gotham.

He slipped out a back door only to come face-to-face with the younger Flash, Wally West. As Kid Flash & Robin, and later Flash & Nightwing, the two had been friends for years. As Dick Grayson, however… well, Wally still didn’t know his civilian identity.

“Are you… sneaking out of the shelter?” Wally asked incredulously. Dick winced and gave him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to get in your way, but my brother is at home and I need to make sure he’s okay,” he lied smoothly.

“Oh! Well, I can give you a lift to your building if you want? We’ll be there in a flash,” Wally said with a wink. Dick snorted, that joke was so dorky it always made him laugh. Wally beamed at his reaction.

“Yeah that’d be great thanks, you can just drop me in front,” Dick replied gratefully.

“So,” Wally clapped his hands together, “how do you wanna do this? Piggyback or bridal carry?”

“Hmm, probably piggyback, seems easier for both of us,” Dick answered. Wally nodded in agreement and crouched down in front of him. Dick climbed onto his back easily, having years of experience doing so. The speedster adjusted to his weight just as easily.

Wally faltered for a moment at the familiarity.

“Have we met before?” he asked, “I swear I know you.”

Dick froze. Well, now was as good a time as any, he supposed. Instead of answering, Dick directed Wally to his nearest safehouse. When they arrived in front, however, he dragged the confused speedster into the building with him and pulled him into the small apartment.

Wally stood in the entrance awkwardly as the familiar stranger disappeared into a bedroom. Just as he was about to run off, the man yelled “Don’t leave!” and Wally froze in place.

The man finally emerged in a familiar suit, sans mask, with a sheepish smile.

“Hey KF,” he said with a small wave.

“…Rob?” Wally asked incredulously.

They were interrupted by the crackle of Nightwing’s comms requesting backup.

“We are SO talking about this later,” Wally said pointedly, to which Dick grinned.

“I’m counting on it,” he replied with a wink and kissed Wally’s cheek before sliding out the window and grappling away.

Wally touched his cheek in shock before grinning and running after him.

#birdflash #birdflash week #birdflash week 2024 #birdflashweek #birdflashweek2024 #dick grayson #wally west #dickwally #my writing #my fic #my ficlet #mini fic #ficlet #birdflash mini fic #nightwing #the flash #young justice #kid flash #robin #dc comics

[jpeg-dot-jpeg]

The lights of the city twinkled below them in a patchwork quilt of streetlamps, glowing windows, and neon signs. In the distance, Clark could hear the shrill wails of ambulances and police cars, but the damage was minimal and the casualties few. The three of them were just waiting for Barry to return from his third sweep for emergencies before they could debrief, write their reports, and go home.

If he searched for it, Clark could make out the high pitched whizzing noise characteristic of the Flash in motion, blanketed by a million ambient sounds; the buzz of electricity, the hum of a million breaths, pagers beeping, cars rumbling, food cooking, bits and pieces of people’s lives snapshotted in the imperceptible ripple of waves through the air.

Next to him, Diana’s was a low, steady wave, feeding Batman the few scraps of intel he didn’t already have. The words slipping out of her mouth in their smooth alto occupied his attention until-

bee-boop bee-boop bee-boop-bee-boop-bee

The ring of a mechanical melody jarred Clark out of his reverie. Clark blinked. The strange 8-bit chorus continued to play, soft enough to escape the notice of his colleagues.

The sound of video game jingles was becoming more and more familiar to him these days, filling shops and living rooms, often accompanied by the delighted cheers or defeated groans of children. But as far as Clark could tell, there weren’t any children at the top of the insurance building they were currently loitering on.

In fact, if Clark didn’t know any better, he’d say the noise seemed to be emanating from Batman. With his cape wrapped all the way around him, a huge swath of black fabric concealing his body and the numerous weapons no doubt stored on it, the source of that noise was hidden from him. And while it was common to hear an alert or signal beeping a warning from somewhere on his body, those alerts didn’t come in the form of music. 

“Do- do you guys hear that?” Clark interrupted, possessed by the need to understand where that noise was coming from.

His two companions went silent, listening intently for anything unusual in the night around them.

After a moment, Diana replied, “Are you talking about that music?”

“Yeah,” Clark answered. “What is that?”

“Oh,” Batman said in that rasp of his. 

Then he peeled back his cape, parting the black curtain of it to reveal a child curled up at his feet.

“Say hi, Robin,” Batman instructed the boy.

“Hi,” The boy obliged, glancing briefly up at the superheroes above him before immediately returning his attention to the Gameboy clutched in his gloved hands.

Clark and Diana stared for a moment in stunned silence.

At first, Clark wondered if he might be hallucinating. Then, his mind rationalized that perhaps this was just a victim being cared for under the watchful eye of Batman before he could be taken back to his family, or wherever else he belonged.

But then he processed the colorful costume the boy wore, the domino mask covering his eyes, the way he was sat crisscross-applesauce between Batman’s boots, leaning comfortably back against armored shins. 

The cape was lowered back down, hiding the boy from view and returning Batman to a shapeless blob.

Diana was the first the gather her wits back up.

“How long has he been there?”

Batman’s face betrayed nothing. “The whole time.”

“The whole time we’ve been on this roof?” Diana clarified, incredulous.

“The whole time we’ve been in Metropolis.”

Clark’s jaw dropped. Surely, if Batman had been carting an elementary schooler around all night, he would’ve noticed.

Right?

Barry chose that moment to flurry up the side of the building, appearing next to them less than the blink of an eye. “Hey guys. We should be good to go for tonight. Someone should check back in in a day or so to make sure everything is resettling, but there isn’t anything else for us to do tonight.” Then he took in Clark and Diana’s flabbergasted expressions and Batman’s unwavering impassivity. “What’d I miss?”

Clark pointed at the bottom of Batman’s cape and said, “Show him.”

When the fabric parted a second time, he half expected to see an empty space where the boy had been. But sure enough, there he was, tapping away at the gaming console. He peered up at Batman from the ground and asked, “Is it time to go home?”

“Not yet,” Batman replied.

“Okay.” Then the cape dropped back down again.

Barry cocked his head to the side, staring curiously at Batman. “Where did you find that kid?”

“The circus.”

“What?” Clark exclaimed, thoroughly bewildered.

“It’s not relevant,” Batman told him, as though that answered any of the questions that had been raised in the past 5 minutes.

“Is he... you son?” Diana asked cautiously. 

“Hm,” Bruce replied, and Clark had no idea whether that was a confirmation or a negation. He nodded anyway.

For a moment, all four - five - of them stood in silence. Then Barry broke it.

“So... we’ll reconvene at the watchtower?”

A chorus of affirmations followed, but for an awkward moment, no one moved, everyone waiting for Batman to be the first. When it became clear he had no intentions of being the first to leave, Barry said, “...right,” and zipped off.

With no clue what else to do, Clark lifted off, rising into the air, closely followed by Diana. When they were far enough away to be sure Batman was no longer watching them, he asked her, “So was that a yes-hm or a no-hm?” 

“I have no clue,” Diana replied. “We can find out during the debriefing, though.”

Clark nodded. The rest of the flight was spent in silence, broken only by Diana’s soft, melodious humming.

It took until they finally reached the watchtower for Clark to realize that it was the same tune from the video game.

#all of the batbrats are ipad babies #even before ipads existed because bruce is rich and he buys his kids all the new gaming systems #no revising we die like jason todd #ficlet #the idea of video game sounds emanating from the BatBlob and confusing the rest of the JLA possessed me #he was playing super mario land btw #at first it was gonna be a tamagotchi but then i was like #no bruce taking care of all his kids tamagotchis is material for a whole other fic #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Dick Grayson #Robin #Clark Kent #Superman #Diana Prince #Wonder Woman #Barry Allen #Flash #i hate tagging all of them so much but it must be done #BatDad #BatFam #jla #justice league

[luveline]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

the tension between you and miguel rises to an all-time high —a ficlet featuring a grumpy miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. fem!reader, 1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel has asked you multiple times to leave him alone while he's working. The strike force can't run itself (or so he claims —Margo and Lyla seem plenty capable, in your eyes) and he needs time and solitude to organise the protection of canon events, and—

"Blah, blah, blah," you say, dropping your voice to a soft, teasing melody as you skirt around his frankly audaciously jacked chest. 

"Don't blah, blah, blah me," Miguel says. You'd be intimidated if you weren't so happy to mess with him. "I'm not kidding around." 

Okay, maybe you are intimidated. That just makes messing with him more fun. 

The room he operates from, as you've so fondly monikered The Office, is in organised chaos, and much too dark. You drag a lone chair toward his control panel and set yourself down in front of all his screens and computers. 

"Ooh," you hum, reaching for an unlabelled switch with a purposeful slowness. 

Predictably, Miguel slams his hand over yours, yanking your chair back with an annoyed, "No." 

"Come on, Miguel. What harm could I possibly do?"

"You could–" 

"Topple the multiverse?" you suggest. "I've heard." 

"You could turn off every member of the Society's DMW. That's what that does. Potentially endangering each of their lives by stranding them in unfamiliar dimensions, and preventing them from correcting canon events." 

You feel bad for teasing him when you see the look on his face, anger and exhaustion and the slimmest allowance of defeat. It must be tough to lead the Spider-Society. Tougher to micromanage more than half of its members. 

Pulling your hand from under his, you cross your arms over your stomach and give him an apologetic frown. "Sorry, Miguel."

Evidence of his sweet spot for you lines his expression, softening his sharp jaw and the stoic set of his brow. It's gone as quick as it came, and his mask falls back into place. He turns away from you as though pretending you aren't there and scans one of his holographic screens, his face glowing with a yellow-orange haze. 

Miguel has to tolerate you, because you're a Spider-Girl. Though you've never called yourself that aloud, and you're not sure anyone else has, either, it's an undeniable truth. You were bitten by a radioactive spider that gave you super mutant abilities, though yours aren't as potent as others. You're not especially strong, you probably couldn't stop a bus with your bare hands, but you're smart. You haven't saved the world or anything, but you lost your Uncle Ben. You paid the toll. 

Every spider person has lost someone. Miguel seems to have lost more than that. 

"You know," you mumble, kicking the ground lightly to make your chair spin on its axle, "I've been thinking…" 

"That's never good." 

"Why do we wear our suits here?" you ask, spinning for a second time, the room moving past your eyes in flashes. "It seems performative." 

"Ah, I can answer that. Some of us work when we're here." 

You wrinkle your nose at his deadpan and kick the floor again, spinning so fast it makes you laugh. "What did you say? I can't hear you from your high horse– woah!" 

Miguel grabs the back of your chair, bringing you to a sudden and firm stop. You blink hoping it'll assuage the dizziness between your eyes, and when it doesn't work you keel forward, muttering, "Woah, I'm gonna die." 

"You won't die." 

"How do you know?" you ask. 

"You're under my watch, aren't you?" 

"I knew you liked me," you say. "Oh, I don't feel well." 

"You brought it on yourself." 

You catch your breath. When you feel okay enough to stand you almost trip, and Miguel doesn't bother pretending that he had any intention of stopping you from landing flat on your face. The you before the spider bite would've wiped out. This you giggles and holds Miguel's elbow for a second while you plant your feet. 

"Okay, boss-man," you ask, looking up at the unnaturally high screen he's investigating. "What are we doing today?" 

"I'm supervising a task force operation on Earth-31913. You're going home." 

"Miguel," you say, not sure if you want to flirt with him or piss him off. He looks incredibly pissed off already, so you choose flirtation. "Have I told you how handsome you look this evening?" 

He doesn't react. His hands don't so much as shift where they're akimbo on his hips. 

"You really have the most handsome eyes," you continue, weaving around his arm to stand in front of him. You have to crane your neck to see them. "Sulky. Do I really have to go home? I'd rather stay here with you." 

He looks down his nose at you. "Yeah?" he asks quietly, his voice rough as hewn stone.

"Yeah," you say, taking a small step back. 

"And do what?" 

You mirror his stance, hands on your hips. Your suit isn't form fitting like his, doesn't showcase nearly so much lean muscle, but you like it. You'd chosen a simple black ensemble to match the spider who bit you with a pinky purple heart over your stomach. Miguel had asked about it once, just once, when you'd first met and he had no idea how much of a problem for him you were going to become. 

Why there? 

Why do you think? you'd asked, giving him a sticky-sweet smile. 

Forget I asked. 

He lifts a hand to your chin, pinching it between two deft fingers. You're lucky he isn't wearing his gloves; his claws would pierce your jaw. 

"What do you want to do?" he asks, again so quietly. "If you stay?" 

"I could help with the task force." 

"That's what you want to do?" 

You flush with heat but refuse to let him know how you're feeling. Your heart bumps against your ribs, breath caught in your throat as he tilts your head up, as he leans down. 

"No," he says near your lips, "that's not it." 

"I could help you?" you offer. 

Something flashes in his eyes. You hesitate to call it lust. It reminds you of a cat with a mouse in it’s clutches, only his pupils are blown, black and inky and wide as dimes. 

"You want to help me?" he asks, his lips an inch, half of that from yours. 

You nod minutely. "Yes," you say under your breath. 

His hand moves to your cheek. He leans in closer and closer, until there's a hair's width of air between his mouth and yours, the tips of your noses bent together. His breath fans over your bottom lip and it's hot. You swear you can feel his heart as his chest presses to yours. He lingers there for an endless handful of seconds, silently egging you on.

You call his bluff and refuse to close the distance. 

Miguel pushes you away from him, far from cruel but certainly not sweet. "I have a tower of paperwork you can file," he says. 

"Here I thought you were finally going to bite my head off," you hum. "You're a sore loser, Miguel." 

"And you're my pest," he says, holding your gaze for a half-second too long. He turns away. "Lyla? Arrange the recounts from the last canon event for Spider-Girl's perusal, please." 

"So you've remembered I'm here?" Lyla asks wryly.

You don't mind the paperwork. You sign each one with a winky face and a pink gel pen heart, knowing Miguel will go over them all again, and knowing he'll grow angrier and angrier with each heart.

He'll kiss you and mean it one day. You just have to play the waiting game.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse spoilers #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction #across the spider-verse spoilers #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman across the spider-verse spoilers #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara blurb #miguel and spidergirl reader

[wileys-russo]

woso blurbs masterlist

 🫶🏻  🫶🏻  🫶🏻  🫶🏻  🫶🏻  

✨ II alessia russo masterlist II AR23

✨ II leah williamson masterlist II LW6

✨ II mary earps masterlist II ME27

✨ II alexia putellas masterlist II AP11

✨ II a.russo & l.williamson x reader II

the wrangler

chess pawn

jersey jealousy

best behaviour

you’re not doing it right

i licked it so its mine

seeing red

flu season (2)

offence and defence

switch up

✨ II e.toone x reader II ET7

red vs blue

sorry seems to be the hardest word

headlock

tiktok edits

drama queen

rage room

✨ || m.león & i.engen x reader II

teasing

mario kart

bed bound

attention thief

✨ || m.león x reader II ML4

coloring book

you love me, really

✨ || k.mccabe x reader II KM15

lovergirl

nutmeg

nail artist

start a family

shirt tugs

secret softie

hot in here

✨ II m.bright x reader II MB4

my captain

masterchef

fa cup final

flat packs

✨ II l.bronze x reader II LB15

the downpour

girlfriend

girlfriend ficlet

✨ II s.blackstenius x reader II SB25

tongue tied

my love you’re forgetting something

you look like you need a hug

✨ II g.stanway x reader II GS8

behind the camera

my needy girl

colin the caterpillar

inkmaster

crucial touch

fake girlfriend

✨ II g.clinton x reader II GC11

you never asked

restless

✨ II a.kennedy x reader II AK14

panini

secrets out

golden hour

competitive streak

✨ || m.le-tissier x reader II MLT4

trick or treat

hotshot

✨ II a.bonmatí x reader II AB14

half sized

stop taking signs home when you win a game

not helping

 ✨ II k.cooney-cross x reader II KCC23

airport flowers

i don't know how you managed to make me your girlfriend

couch nap

forgotten coffee

for kids

✨ II e.carpenter x reader II EC21

roadrunner

✨ II j.hermoso x reader II JH10

still sleeping

beachball

princess treatment

pool day

✨II n.charles x reader II NC21

sweet jealousy

captain charles

 ✨II j.fleming x reader II JF17

regular visitor

✨ II s.kerr x reader II SK20

crumble

✨ II barcelona femení x reader II

stuck

tiny silver flash

✨ II awfc x reader II

drop kick

travel buddies

april fools

✨ II p.guijarro x reader II PG12

how bad is it

✨ II m.rodriguez x reader II MR1

jump scare

✨ || h.raso x reader II HR16

world class

#woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso #woso blurbs #lucy bronze x reader #mary earps x reader #millie bright x reader #leah williamson x reader #ella toone x reader #georgia stanway x reader #sam kerr x reader #alexia putellas x reader #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #grace clinton x reader #jessie fleming x reader #alanna kennedy x reader #jenni hermoso x reader

[novacorpsrecruit]

To save a metalhead

Somewhat inspired by Totally Killers. Ficlet that word count is 30K in my mind (actual wc: 1,862).

“Is … uh … he here?”

The curly haired boy awkwardly played with the silver rings on his hands, too big for his fingers. He looked anxious standing in front of the scoops counter. Robin was sure part of it was because of the look she was giving him. She’s tired of these kids flooding their work. She sighed. “Steve! Another one of your children is here!”

Steve popped through the double doors, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. His expression was replaced with confusion. “This one isn’t mine.”

“Steve,” the kid said with relief. “Holy shit. It worked.”

“Do I know you?” Steve asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“No. Not yet, I mean —“ the kid’s eyes darted between Steve and Robin. A look of recognition flashed in his eyes. “Holy shit. Robin!”

Robin looked at him with her eyebrow raised. She didn’t know him. He looked familiar sure. His curly dark hair, big doe eyes. His ear was covered in piercings, but he couldn’t be older than 15. He had light freckles spreading across the bridge of his nose. She knows she’s seen that big goofy smile across his face —

“Is Dustin here?” The kid asked. “Henderson?”

“Who’s asking,” Steve asked at the same time Robin called out for Dustin. Dustin came through the double doors.

“What’s going on?” Dustin asked. “I nearly have the code cracked —“ his words dropped, suddenly aware of the new company. “From the cereal box! With the decipher. You know. The children’s toy.”

“Dustin,” the kid said. “I need to talk to you.”

“Who are you?” Dustin asked wrinkled his brow. “We’re in the middle of something.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, arms crossed. “Deciphering cereal codes.”

“Yeah. Busy,” the kid let out a laugh like he’s heard that excuse before. “Alex. Munson. I’m looking for my da— Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Who?” Dustin asked, brow wrinkled.

“Eddie Munson?” Steve asked.

“I knew I recognized you,” Robin nearly shouted. “Alex Munson. I thought you graduated.”

“No, I —“

“Alex Munson,” Steve repeated, brow furrowed. “Sure, you are.”

“What do you mean by that?” There was a familiar wrinkle of ‘Alex’s face.

“Alex Munson passed two years ago,” Steve said. “He was Eddie’s older cousin. They had a half assed memorial for him at school and showed a video of Nancy Reagan during health class.”

“Two years ago —“ the kid ran his hands through his hair. “No, no, no, no — it’s supposed to be three. What day is it?”

“What?”

“Day and year,” the kid said.

“July 3rd, 1985,” Dustin supplied. Steve elbowed him.

“Shit,” the kid exhaled. “I’m too early.”

“You gonna explain?” Robin asked.

The kid’s eyes darted between the three, before he settled on Steve. “My name is Alexander Robin Munson. I was born in 1993. I’m from the future. I’m here to save my dad.”

“Isn’t this the plot of that new movie?” Robin asked Steve. Steve shrugged. “With Alex Keaton?”

“What do you mean save your dad?” Dustin said. “If your dad died, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Does your dad die?” Robin asked.

“Is Eddie your dad?” Steve asked.

“Yes, no, I mean —“ the kid ran his hands through his hair. “Yes. Eddie Munson is my dad. In March of 1986, something happens. You — he never told me what happened. But you all were there. D— Dustin, Steve, you guys blame yourselves for it. Dad just — never was the same. He’s in a lot of pain. And I thought —“

“If you came back you could help him,” Steve said. “What was your plan?”

Alex opened his mouth, closing it instantly.

“You didn’t have a plan,” Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Great. You don’t know what happened, other than that Dustin and myself blame ourselves for what happened. But you know that your dad, Eddie Munson, ends up in a lot of pain.”

“He died,” Alex said softly. “You brought him back.”

“Great,” Steve exhaled. “Don’t let Eddie die in 1986.”

“Who the hell is Eddie Munson?” Dustin asked, brow wrinkled.

“He runs the dungeons and doofuses club at Hawkins High,” Steve said. “I’m sure that’s how you’ll meet him. I don’t understand how I’m involved in this mess.”

“I don’t understand how I’m involved,” Robin said. “Look, Alex. It’s July. If that happens in March, then you’re gonna be here for eight months waiting for something to happen. And who knows if you’ll mess up the time continuum or whatever. You need to get back and we need to —“

“Crack a cereal code,” Alex supplied, pushing past Dustin and Steve into the backroom. “Yeah. I heard.”

“Hey!”

“I’m stuck here for 24 hours,” Alex said, taking a seat at the break table, gesturing to the white board where Robin had written out the Russian code and its English translation out for the boys. “Might as well try to crack your dumb cereal code.”

The cool of the porcelain toilet bowl felt nice against Steve’s face. In any other situation, he may have been grossed out about puking his guts out in a public bathroom. But right now, the cool surface was comforting. “Sound off,” he mumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, wincing from his split lip. “Steve. Here.”

“Robin,” Robin’s voice weakly carried from the stall over. “Present.”

“Alex?” Steve called over to the stall next to him. A moment passed. Steve sat up. “Alex?”

A soft laugh came from the other stall. Starting as a small giggle before breaking out into a full on laughter fit.

“Alex?” Steve called again, sliding underneath the stall wall to join Alex in the stall. His thin frame was positioned between the toilet and the wall, his head leaning against the wall. He looked worse for wear, a broken nose, bruising underneath his eyes. He had a matching split lip, and by the way he’s wincing while he’s laughing was a sure sign of a broken rib or two. Steve remembers hearing the clanging of metal as his earrings hit the floor, but Alex’s hair concealed his bloodied ears. Steve and Alex took the brunt of the Russian torture. And if Steve feels bad, he was sure Alex felt worse. “Alex?”

“I came here to save Dad,” Alex laughed. “And ended up saving Pops instead.”

Steve wrinkled his brow. “I need you to explain that, Alex.”

Alex’s laughter slowly died off. He looked at Steve, a look that Steve was sure he’s given the kids before. A look that made it all click for Steve. “I have two dads,” Alex said softly. “Eddie and —“ he gestured towards Steve with a soft laugh. “You.”

“Me,” Steve repeated softly.

“Step dad?” Robin asked from the other stall, her voice was uneasy, as if she knew the answer. Steve knew the answer. His heart pounding in his chest.

“No,” Alex answered, his voice shaky. Tears formed in his eyes. “No.”

“Hey, here,” Steve reached out for Alex pulling him into his arms. “You’re safe, okay? I got you. I got you.”

Alex buried his face into Steve’s shoulder, letting out a sob. “I knew — I knew the fourth wasn’t a great memory for you — but I didn’t — I didn’t —“

“There’s a reason you didn’t know,” Steve said, catching Robin as she slid under the stall. “I didn’t want you to know about the monsters. Wanted you to have a normal life.”

Alex let out a laugh. “You know dad. Normal isn’t in his vocabulary.”

Steve laughed. “Kind of. Not — not personally.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Robin said. “But you’re taking having a 15 year old with Eddie Munson pretty well.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, running his hand up and down Alex’s back. “I mean — you’ve seen Eddie.”

“Gross,” Alex said.

“Gross,” Robin agreed.

“What?” Steve said. “You don’t have a crush on Eddie Munson?”

Alex glanced towards Robin. She cautiously looked at Alex, seeing a look of understanding.

“I don’t have a crush on any guy, Steve,” Robin said. “I … like girls.”

“Oh. Really? Good— great!” Steve let out a laugh. “Great. Alex, Aunt Robbie. Robin, Alex.”

“We’ve met doofus,” Robin laughed. She let out a gasp. “Oh my god, you named him after me. His middle name.”

“Yeah,” Steve grinned. “We’re friends. Right Alex? Friends?”

“Right,” Alex smiled back. “Best friends.”

“Holy shit,” Steve said. “I have a son with Eddie Munson and time travel is real.”

“Kind of,” Alex said. “Henderson invented it.”

“Dustin?”

“He was supposed to come back,” Alex said. “I beat him to the machine.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve said, holding Alex tight. He felt his grip falter against Alex. Steve looked down at Alex as he flickered like a ghost. His body fading into transparency. “Alex? Are you — you’re disappearing. Did we — did we fuck up the time line?”

“I’m going home,” Alex said. “My time’s done. I had 24 hours. I’ll — I’ll see you soon, Pops.”

“Alex —“

“Remember March 1986,” Alex said, fading in Steve’s arms. “Save dad. Keep him safe.”

“Alex —“

“Love you, Pops,” Alex said, disappearing. His voice echoing in the bathroom. “Keep him safe.”

Steve didn’t think much about it when he told Dustin and Eddie to stick to the plan. The whole plan didn’t feel right. As if he was missing something. “Don’t be cute, or be a hero, or something. Okay? You guys are just -- ”

“Decoys,” Dustin finished for him. They’ve been over this a thousand times since they created the plan. “Don’t worry, you can be the hero, Steve.”

“Absolutely,” Eddie said. “I mean. Look at us. We are not heroes.” He gave a soft smile to Steve, trying to calm his nerves. Steve could read past behind the mask Eddie wore. He was nervous.

Steve pressed his lips together and nodded. He still wasn’t sure about this. The whole plan was fool proof… but something felt wrong. Something was missing. He stepped back, turning to walk towards the girls.

“Hey, Steve?”

Steve turned around, Eddie much closer than he was moments before. Eddie mapped Steve’s face, his lips frozen, as if they lost the words they wanted to say. His eyes, big, emotional. Like a baby deer, looking for safety and comfort. Eddie looked away, towards the trailers, before glancing back to Steve. “Make him pay.”

Suddenly, it clicked for Steve. He remembered the same doe eyes on Alex months ago, begging Steve to save his dad — to save Eddie.

Something happens to Eddie here. Something that kills him, and Steve has to bring him back.

Steve has to give Eddie a reason to stay safe.

Eventually, they would get together. Alex was born in 1993, it shouldn’t hurt if they got together a little sooner, right?

He reached forward, pressing his lips against Eddie’s in a rushed kiss. His hands go to the bottom of his vest, zipping it up. “If you’re gonna do something stupid,” Steve mumbled against Eddie’s lips. “Be smart about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie nodded, his cheeks blushing. “Okay, Big Boy, I’ll see you soon.”

If I had time I’d flush this out!

If you want older cousin Alex Munson lore, I have a character study of Eddie Munson on Ao3.

#steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #stranger things #steddie fic #//myfic

[greghatecrimes]

i have this vision of house carrying thirteen by her ankle into wilson's office and just holding her out to him as she's giggling because he wants wilson to watch her for a bit because he can't let her near one patient or something

wilson being unsure how exactly to grab her from that position

Have a very quickly written ficlet, anon!:

PPTH, circa 1993ish:

Wilson's in the middle of a meeting when the sound of laughter and familiar footsteps floats into his office from the hallway. He doesn't even bother trying to finish whatever sentence he'd been in the middle of; instead, he breaks off and lets loose a long sigh.

"...Is... everything alright?" The patient he'd been talking with asks, watching him with slightly widened eyes.

"I'm so sorry." He runs a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to put his head down on the patient files stacked in front of him. "You know, I just have this terrible headache. It comes and--"

The door to his office bursts open. In steps one Greg House, accompanied by the source of the childlike giggling that had been the harbinger of his arrival: his two and a half year old daughter, who's dangling from House's hand by one ankle. She sways back and forth in midair when House steps over the threshold and into the office, causing her face to flush red and her laughter to bubble up, crisp with joy.

"...Goes," Wilson sighs, and gets to his feet. "I'm so sorry. This will be just a minute."

"Hey, Wilson!" House greets, completely unperturbed by the fact that he's just walked into a private consult. "Take Thirteen for an hour, will you? I'm not supposed to have my hands full around my new patient."

"House," Wilson groans. "How many times do I have to tell you to just hire a babysitter–"

"Don't need one! Really, it's just an hour! Cuddy said they think the patient has TB or something else deliciously contagious. Can't let this germ magnet–" he shakes Thirteen for extra emphasis, and she laughs even harder. A fond smile pulls at his lips. "Anywhere near that."

"Oh, my," Wilson's patient says from between them, and Wilson's not sure if she's referencing the tuberculosis or the child dangling upside down, clearly delighted at being handled by her father like a sack of potatoes. "Is she alright?"

"My patient?" House asks. "Bleeding out of her eyeballs, last I heard, so I really need to-- oh, you meant the kid." House gives her another shake, and this time Thirteen laughs so hard that it borders on a shriek. "She's fine, she loves it. Begs me to throw her around all day long. She'd be crawling around on the ceiling if she could. Like a little spider-monkey, aren't you?" Thirteen grins, her smile flashing white like an upside-down crescent moon.

She's too damn cute, Wilson thinks. House is all too aware of this and wields it like a weapon. He lets out another long-suffering sigh.

"I'll take her," he relents, and steps out from behind his desk. "C'mere, Munchkin." He reaches for her, only to freeze when he realizes he's not quite sure how to grab her.

"Do you need–" his patient starts to ask.

"I'm fine, thank you," Wilson says loudly. He knows he's the less-experienced one out of the two of them when it comes to children. He doesn't need his own patients reminding him of that. "Here we go. Nice and easy." He decides to grab Thirteen by the waist. She's small enough that he manages to get her flipped right-side up without having to set her down on the floor or the desk first.

"Hi, Jimmy." Thirteen settles into the spot just above his hip easily, as she always does. Before he can stop her, one of her chubby little hands is reaching for one of the many pens he keeps in the chest pocket of his lab coat. Her fingers close around a bright yellow highlighter. "'Side-down? Again?" she asks.

He can't bring himself to say no. "When your dad gets back," he promises. He tucks a few flyaways behind her ear-- all that swinging around had really mussed up her ponytail. Hopefully she'll sit quietly long enough for him to fix it. "But right now Jimmy has to finish a meeting. So let's tell Dad bye-bye for now, okay?"

She waves at House with the fist that's gripping the highlighter. "Bye bye!"

"Be good for Wilson, you little gremlin," House playfully growls, narrowing his eyes at her. Thirteen laughs and hides her face against Wilson's shoulder for a moment. "I'll page ya when I'm on my way back up. Oh, and I'll order us takeout from that Chinese place for dinner tonight, sound good?" House is already halfway out the door before Wilson can form a response. "Thanks a million!" the cheerfully sarcastic tone floats back to them from the hallway. "Kisses! Mwah!"

Of course he doesn't bother to close the door on his way out.

"Um," the patient says, just as Wilson slides back into his seat. Thirteen has already managed to uncap the highlighter and is now reaching across his desk with sweeping arms, searching for something to 'color' on. He manages to feel around and find a blank notepad for her without pulling his attention from his patient. "I can always come back later, if now is a bad time–"

"No, no, not at all," Wilson assures her, and then sighs in exasperation. "I am so sorry. He seems to think I'm the on call nanny instead of a practicing oncologist."

His patient cracks a smile. "She's quite cute," she admits, after a moment of watching Thirteen. Wilson can't help the rush of pride he feels at that. "She's your colleague's?"

Wilson hesitates. "My..." In his moment of thought, Thirteen squirms in his lap and manages to twist herself around enough to swipe a streak of bright yellow across his face. Wilson closes his eyes. The taste of highlighter is bitter on his lips, but he can't help but smile. "My... partner's." he says softly.

When he opens his eyes again, Thirteen is grinning up at him, clearly pleased with her work of art. His patient is stifling laughter. "Did you want to...?" She mimes rubbing her face.

"...We'll be just fine." He tells her, settling further into his seat. "This one is an excellent listener. By all means, let's get back to where we left off."

#my writing #ficlet #baby thirteen au #ask #anon #james wilson #remy thirteen hadley #greg house #this is super messy but it helped a lot with a lot of stress/anxiety so that's a win. we'll take it #hilson

[indigosabyss]

Young Marvel w/ Young Justice Animated Series

"How about I send you to Hell?" Ghost Rider muttered darkly at the strange pink girl.

"Been there, done that, got my brother back from the dead." She shook her head.

Beside her, a timid boy in a blue and black jacket scrunched up further in his seat, "Gwen, can we not talk about that?"

"I'm sorry, you died?" Barry asked.

"Oh yeah, Teddy's died, and Cecil's died, and Ghosty's died, and Marvel's died, most of us have died at some point." Gwen explained, brandishing her hand across the room of displaced heroes, who all nodded contemplatively. Still, she continued, spinning around to give Wally finger guns, "But we all come back if we're popular enough. I'm guessing you've already figured that out?"

"No?" Wally replied, confused, "How would I even know that?"

Gwen's eyebrows scrunched up, ".... Because.... you've.... died?"

"Gwen!" Her brother burst out, "I told you that was the season finale! It hasn't happened yet!"

"No wait, I'm going to die? How do you know that?"

#little interaction i thought up #ghost rider #robbie reyes #gwenpool #gwen poole #barry allen #flash #wally west #kid flash #teddy poole #cecil gwenpool #kamala khan #ms marvel #young justice #west coast avengers #ibis ficlets

[sharpth1ng]

i don’t know how much longer i can go on without reading a very detailed description of billy and stu oiled up sharpy :(

I was about to write a silly paragraph of oiled boys but then i remembered this degenerate wip of a beach episode which starts with a sweaty hookup so here, smutty oiled boys under the cut:

(ps. I do intent to finish this ficlet at some point, i just dk when)

August 16th, 1996

He’s covered in sweat.

His own and now increasingly Stu’s, rolling in drops down their chests and mixing where their stomachs press together. Stu’s skin is hot to the touch, slick as his bare thighs slide over Billy’s. He’s wearing those stupid, short little shorts, and Billy’s hands are sliding up under the hem to grab his ass. 

August has been sweltering. It’s the kind of heat that makes the air feel heavy, collecting on your skin unless you’re inside with the windows closed and the AC on full blast. And they haven’t even had that, not with the brown-out that started yesterday. 

Stu’s place is one of a few that still has power, turns out he’s just far enough out of town to be on a different grid. He’s always lucky like that, isn’t he? So now Randy, Tatum, and Sid are here, laying around in the living room watching movies at a reasonable temperature. Not him though, and not Stu. They were five minutes ago, but the moment Stu came back inside after driving to pick up the girls Billy lost his mind a little. He’s been doing that a lot lately. 

It’s the way he fucking smells. He thinks he should probably hate it, it’s an unapologetically masculine scent, just deodorant and sweat but fuck he really doesn’t hate it. He could smell him through Tatum’s cloying perfume and Sid’s shampoo, and Randy’s aftershave, and it made his stupid mouth water. So like… 20 minutes into the movie he made an excuse about needing to go make a call to his dad and Stu followed with an excuse about needing to put food out for the stray cat that likes to crawl in through the doggy door in the garage. Because Stu knows better, of course he does. 

So for some reason they’ve decided to cram themselves into the garage crawl space they used to play in as kids, which is also the only part of the house that isn’t temperature controlled. The result is that they’re both dripping sweat, t-shirts discarded immediately with the rest of their clothes soon to follow if he has anything to say about it. 

“Ah, yeah-” Stu’s moaning, rocking his hips down, hard and tenting his evil little shorts, and Billy’s clapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up, they’ll hear you-” He’s hissing this under his breath but it might be undermined by the fact that he’s also grinding up against Stu’s ass.

“You don’t want them to join us?” Stu’s eyes are flashing as he grinds into Billy’s palm. Jesus christ-

“What? Fuck no-” He’s grimacing, blood rushing to his face even though he knows Stu’s just talking shit, grinning like an absolute ass. 

“Aww, so you just want some alone time with me-” Stu’s starting to look way too smug. 

“No, I wanna get my dick sucked.” Billy sneers, shoving him to the side and rolling them over to get on top. 

“By me,” Stu doesn’t look any less smug as his back hits the floor. 

“Well I don’t fucking want Randy to do it.” He snaps, thumping a fist into his chest. 

“But you didn’t even consider your girlfriend.” Cocky little shithead.  He could just remind him that Sid is fucking frigid but he thinks he can do better.  

“Why would I when I’ve already got you trained?” He’s aiming for aloof but he can acknowledge that his voice is a little too rough, and Stu’s eyes go hooded.

“Well fuck,” He groans, too loud as Billy starts to rock his hips. “Oh- okay, yeah, I’ll do my trick, now gimme my treat,” He’s sticking his tongue out and it’s a stupid fucking line but Billy’s inhaling and Stu is everywhere, and it’s making him dumb.

#18+ only #nsft #debaserverse #the beach episode #stuilly #billy x stu #pre-WoM #ask

[taddymason]

Taddy I know you said that Kaida doesn't refer to Jay as "Dad" like. At all.

BUT I can't stop thinking about a scenerio [that I wanted a write a ficlet about but I don't have the time due to uni work :sob:]

Where after Kaida and Jay are with the Ninja but Jay doesn't have his memories fully back yet.

And Kaida gets caught off guard by the enemy or something and is taken by them as bait. [I know, very unlikely]

And she tries to act cool about it but she is terrified on the inside because shes still just a kid and god Jay is not coming for her.

He got his real family back- he doesn't need her around anymore- shes alone again- shes got abondened again- why should he care about her anymore?

Meanwhile Jay is LIVID.

This is a man who does not remember the honor code of the Ninja.

A man who killed a dragon by himself.

A man who possibly killed way more than a dragon.

A father whos child was taken from him as bait and is in danger.

He's ripping through everything in his path that is between him and his daughter, and the rest of the ninja are terrified as they can only watch the lightning without restrain destroy everything in his path.

Kaida doesn't understand whats going on outside,there are explosions and yells and she can't help but flinch away as someone points a gun at her face.

But then there is a loud crack as the room flashes in the brightest light ever.

And when she opens her eyes back up again, all the men are on the ground twitching in pain.

And Jay is there.

He's sparkier than usual.

And covered in more blood than usual.

And kinda blurry on the edges, his eyes and hands and body burning way brighter with lightning than she ever saw.

[As if he's almost lightning itself]

But he's here.

He came for her.

He didn't leave her.

He didn't leave her.

She can't even say anything before he's suddenly next to her checking her for injuries as his hands shake from the adrenaline and fear of almost losing her.

And she chokes up with tears upon seeing him so scared, terrified of what could have been and lets out a choked up "Dad..."

Suddenly he's hugging her and she can't help but bury her face onto his chest like a baby as shes trying to not to cry, not to be weak, shes picked up and he mumbles a soft "I got you kiddo. Let's get you home." And that's when she breaks down.

And Jay refuses to let go of her during all the way back to the monastery, and if the rest of the ninja see both of them cry at some point none of them say anything.

KEN KEN KEN THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!?!? I LOVE THIS!! THANKS FOR THIS!!! HUSJFBAF

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH (Like, Kaida definitely addresses Jay as "dad" in situations like this) THAT I HAD TO WRITE AND DRAW SOMETHING RIGHT AWAY BECAUSE I LOVE TORTURING THESE TWO. Also writing Angry Badass Jay is entertaining

I hope I did justice to this scenario because I wrote this really really quickly so I hope you like it

Home

Words: 2.9k

TW: blood and violence.

When Kaida first wakes up, she is in a room with cold lights and no windows, with unknown people moving back and forth through thick bars. She feels tired, her eyelids are heavy with a sickly feeling, and her palate tastes like moldy cotton.

She tries to remember the name the ninjas had given this thing. She thinks it's called Vengestone. A stone that can disable elemental powers.

She had never seen anything like it and terror floods her veins with ice when she realizes that what they said turned out to be true. She didn't know that there was something capable of suppressing that energy that has been in her blood for years. Uselessly she pulls on the metal on her ankle, looks for a way to break or open the lock with some of the tricks she knew, even tries to see if there are any loose bricks in the wall, and only manages to draw blood from under her nails, adding to what already covers her clothes.

She tries not to get scared. She tries to calm down and breathe even though they look at her like little more than an animal and she has no way to defend herself. She wishes she had her gun in her hands, even the knife she always kept in her boot, but even that had been taken away from her, and all she had left as a weapon was to uselessly insult them.

She tries not to panic, but finds it difficult to control her breathing when she can't see through the walls to those approaching and she feels blind. Everything looks dark and she feels stupidly weak when people approach her and without her powers to see them; they look like corpses.

"They are anyway" she tries to tell herself to calm down. They are if Jay was looking for her.

If he was looking for her. If he hadn't already decided she was a burden. Because she is, she knew it.

As the hours pass, the voice she tries to ignore in the back of her head reminds her that she is essentially a nuisance that he went to too much trouble to care for. She is essentially a girl for whom he only felt sorry, and now with the way things are, he may finally want to take a burden off his shoulders and stop having to worry about her.

She knows that she is the reason why he decided to continue working in a place as miserable as the Administration, the reason why he could not return home for so long, the main reason why he was separated from his family. If he had had his memories from the beginning, he wouldn't have even stayed there in the first place.

It's a burden, and if he had finally realized that he had his real family waiting for him, maybe he wouldn't even bother looking for her.

"How do you feel?" one of them ask her with a smile in his voice. She was pretty sure she's been there for a day already.

“Fucking great.” she spits, crossing her arms to try to look confident. If being a ninja included being captured by crazy people like these, she didn't understand why the bother.

He seem to ignore her mockery as he analyze her carefully. That guy, who must be some kind of leader if the way he's the only one talking is any indication, approaches. “You are the elemental master of spirit, aren't you?”

She stares back at him dryly without even bothering to respond. They had asked her name before and she hadn't even given them that.

The man waits in silence for a few seconds before continuing. “I know all ninjas have pretty interesting powers, the main reason why they are so annoying to us. As far as I heard, kid, you can steal someone's soul, right?”

She shakes her chained foot while frowning. “Why don't you take this shit off me and figure it out yourself?”

He smiles and then steps back, leaving the cell as if the exchange had bored him. "Not yet. We have to keep you alive until your friends come after all.”

And then he leaves, and she is alone. Again.

She rests her head on the wall behind her, trying futilely to keep track of the idiots hovering back and forth with threats that leave her shaking inside, and her hand clutches the yellow pin to her chest.

---

Jay's head is somewhere else during the eternal passage of days in which they search for clues to Kaida's whereabouts. He doesn't sleep or even eat. His concentration is solely on the battlefield and clinging to any possible clue. He is determined and alert, aware enough to be able to duck when necessary and able to dodge when shot.

But that's all. He feels nothing when he uses his powers over and over again against them without holding back his blows. It is like a storm that continues to build up until it explodes and he doesn't take into account who it lets that brutal rain fall on.

And the rest of the team isn't much help.

When they stop him for the fourth time to tell him they need a plan, his patience breaks.

He already has a plan; find his kid.

Lloyd, who Jay had learned that he was a kind of master on the team, harshly reprimands him at the end of an interrogation of one of the stupid bastards responsible for taking Kaida. Once the line of questioning ends with the man writhing on the ground in a haze of burning flesh, everyone looks at him with growing horror and fear.

He has no regrets, neither for this one nor for the others before him or for what is yet to come. If it were up to him, he would pull out what other pain that bastard has left to feel.

The green ninja, however, is unfazed by the anger crackling in his eyes and matches it with a stern glare. "Jay, I understand you're worried, but taking it out on them won't solve anything. You can't do that."

He breathes shakily, his hands, covered in blood that is not his, clenching and opening at his sides with sparks still cutting and hissing through the air.

"You are not my leader." He spits tiredly between his teeth. "Don't tell me what to do. You don't understand anything. If you really think I'm going to spare their lives for some stupid ninja shit I don't know about-"

"Jay, relax." The black ninja, Cole, steps forward, his voice heavy and wobbly. He approaches with his hands outstretched toward him, and he hates the anguish in his words, he hated that they acted like they knew him when he couldn't even remember anything about them. He hates all of this, and can barely speak with the guilt creeping down his throat. This would not have happened if they had not left the Administration. “We understand, we really do.”

Jay turns around, can't help but wave his arms in the air in exasperation, his voice rising to the edge of a shout as he shakes his head. "No, you don't. I don't need your help. If it were up to you, we would still have no fucking clue where she is. It's like you don't even care- “

A hand on his shoulder stops him, cutting off his speech as he flinches, and only then does he realize how much he's hyperventilating. The anger that makes his hands shake is as intense as the fear in his chest, and without a target to aim for so long, one becomes stronger than the other. When he turns around in his stupor, he finds the water ninja staring at him with one hand still on his shoulder.

Nya looks at him with understanding and sympathy, a deep grimace creasing her face even though her eyes otherwise remain calm. Her hand squeezes his shoulder tightly, almost as if she wants to hug him instead, and he hates how much they seem to really know him. He only has a vague idea of what they are supposed to be to him (his friends, his brothers, his yang) and that's it, they're still just strangers.

His real family, all he has left, is far away.

“We'll find her, Jay. I swear. You are not alone in this.” she emphasized firmly, and somehow, like a memory washed away by the tide, something in his chest calms at her words. The others look at him the same way, that anxious, worried look that loosens his jaw as his frown softens.

His hands were still shaking, and the power on his skin had not stopped crackling for even a second since they had begun their search. He pulls away from the touch on his shoulder somewhat abruptly, knowing it's probably not good to touch any of them while he's like this, and the others stare at him expectantly.

He takes a deep breath, barely closing his eyes for a fragment of a second where all he sees is bright white, and when he opens them to look at them, he can almost let himself believe that these people are his family.

"Alright." he chew the words through air that is too harsh and cold. His tongue is filled with the taste of ash and blood. “We know where these bastards' base is. Take us there.”

They all nod and leave, and Jay doesn't let anything stop him from getting to his daughter. His first and only priority.

---

Kaida loses track of time while there. She stops trying to count the minutes that pass and any hope she has left slowly dissolves.

And maybe it was for the best anyway. She knew she was a bait. A small fish to catch a bigger one. It was better that they didn't come for her. There was no reason for him to risk it when he already had his real family with him.

The men here don't linger with her any longer than necessary. They need her alive after all. One breaks her ankle so she doesn't even try to flee. Another hits her head particularly unpleasantly against the wall when she spits in their faces and things get confusing from there. It reminds her too much of Boarding School, and if she closes her eyes, she can practically feel the rivulet of blood running down the side of her face from her left eyebrow.

They seem proud of themselves when they finally manage to force screams of pain through her teeth, even if she doesn't even cry. Don't you dare cry. Don't you ever cry, she said in her mind over and over again.

And she tells herself that's not even the reason she's so terrified. It's not because she was deprived of her powers, or because of the pain that was pounding in her body, or because of whatever stupid plan these sons of bitches had, but because of the fact that she knows deep down that no one is coming for her. She knows she deserves it and that's what leaves her shaking as she stares straight ahead.

They should never have left the Administration, if they had stayed home instead of getting involved in saving the world and that stuff, none of this would have happened.

She feels selfish for thinking about it, but she can't help it.

She wants to go home, but she knows it's not even safe to go back there anymore. She hates how much those ninjas always had the power to take him from her, and now they finally did it.

And suddenly, the guards patrolling next to her cell hastily leave. All the people she can see through the bars share worried looks, frightened murmurs as they run to the left with weapons in their hands. Her heart races and all she can do is wait. She cannot see a single soul behind the walls when they all disappear.

There is an icy silence, one that builds in her cell the moment everyone leaves her alone, but that finally breaks when she begins to hear distant screams in the distance.

She stands suddenly, leaning against the wall, ignoring the pain clawing at her ankle and the damn chain that only makes it worse, and concentrates on listening.

She hears gunshots, hears high-pitched cries slowed by the walls. She's heard those screams before, the kind that come up just before a person's light disappears. She knows that they are coming from very far away, she knows that they are from the direction in which everyone ran, and from one moment to the next, the silence of her prison becomes a cacophony of screams that increases the tension that shakes in her chest.

There is also a growing ringing that pulses in her ears, which sounds too much like a muffled roar. A snake crawls across the ceiling, and when she looks up, she notices how the lights shine full of energy, turning on and off at the pace at which everyone runs desperately. That hum goes down and up constantly while the lights flicker until they finally break, exploding loudly. Glass and darkness hit the hallway.

Kaida can only watch open-mouthed, her mind barely able to comprehend the meaning of it when one of their leaders enters her cage with a gun in hand and a look full of anger.

“What the fuck is going on?” Kaida asks, pressing herself against the wall, hating the way her jaw trembles as the guy approaches her. “Is this also part of your plan, you idiots?”

The mockery comes out weak and raw at the end when she sees how the man removes the safety of the weapon and places it in his hands without hesitation. A knot of anxiety tightens and unravels in her chest until it reaches her mind, and her face pales.

“Looks like your friends are already here, kid. Now you are as useful alive as dead.” The gun is pointed at her face. If she had her powers, in less than a second, she could steal any excuse for soul that this guy had until he was an empty shell, take because that's what she always did. Only she doesn't have them, and the man's index finger is already on the trigger. “Unfortunately for you, I could use getting rid of an elemental master right now.”

The man points the barrel close to her forehead, far enough away that she can't even try to grab the gun from him.

Kaida steps back, her gaze focused somewhere in front of her, and she prepares for the worst with her teeth clenched together.

She's just not prepared for the way the man's body suddenly shakes violently. The grip on his gun loosens and he lets go. Collapsing heavily to the ground with white ribbons that run through his limbs until they fragilely disappear along with all traces of life in his gaze.

There is an echo of thunder behind it that conquers every struggle between silence and screams, and it is only when she looks up from the body at her feet that she finally sees Jay staring at her surprised on the other side of the cell. His hand still raised firmly forward, red and glowing as if snakes of light ran down his arm.

Her vision is blurry, either from the pain in the back of her head or from the held back tears, but it was definitely him. Through the cloudy haze, she can see how his reddish hair is more bristly than usual and the blood that practically covers him from head to toe.

She looks around, behind Jay, she sees completely still bodies scattered on the ground. She's not particularly fazed by it, she's seen worse, they've done worse. But the fact that he did this for her, that he took the risk to do it, leaves her reeling with a thread of breath.

Before she can register it, Jay quickly crosses the distance between them, dropping to his knees beside her so he's level with her. His trembling hands, whose skin over his knuckles she can see are slit and raw, grab her shoulders and he frantically search for any kind of wounds. She barely registers it, barely hears him speaking in panic at a mile a second.

Instead, she was still processing the fact that he was there. That he had come back for her.

“I've got you, kiddo, it's okay now,” she hears him say. His voice sounds more scared and agitated than she's ever heard.

His hands briefly touch her face and only then does she realize she was crying. She doesn't know how long she's been crying.

“Dad-” nothing but sobs come out.

He holds her close, reality finally hitting her as she buries her face against his chest, inhaling as she cries. Her forehead is pressed against that stupid blue gi, staining blood and tears and who knows what else, but she can hear his heart beating, fast but steady, and he's here and he didn't abandon her.

“We're going home,” he murmurs, as shaky as his breathing, and she doesn't care where that is anymore. All she really cares about is that he's here, and that's enough for her.

#I'm not good at drawing blood guys #I also did this in like less than an hour sjfbh #kaida walker #ninjago #dad jay au #ninjago fanfic #ninjago jay #ninjago oc #jay ninjago #jay walker #ninjago au

[theold-ultraviolence]

irma!!! (in advance, from when i’m sending this in) happy valentine’s day, lovely!! first of all, may i say that your music taste is exquisite and i’m looking forward to reading all your wonderful ficlets <3

secondly, i’d love to request aemond with head over heels by tears for fears if that’s possible, and it’s up to you if it’s sfw or not <3 once more, happy valentine’s day! sending you flowers (origami, if you’re allergic) <3333

Made A Fire • Aemond Targaryen x reader

summary: There must be something Aemond can do to prevent you from marrying your betrothed...but what? // House of the reader & her betrothed isn't specified. Song prompt: Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears. • 2023 Vday ficlet fest masterlist

I wanted to be with you alone

And talk about the weather  

He stares from the sidelines with his blood boiling. 

There’s some kid  – whom he doesn’t care enough for to learn his name – glued to you throughout this damned dance he’s been obliged to attend. Aemond detects your unease from a distance, how you scowl and remain with your arms crossed as the kid – who looks to be about the same age of ten and four  as you – keeps blabbering without giving you a chance to talk. 

All Aemond wants to do is to listen to you talk. Talk about the most mundane of topics such as the weather, or discuss the philosophies and histories of Westeros. All Aemond wants to do during these events, when you come all the way to King’s Landing, is to be with you alone. He misses you terribly each time you part – sleep evades him each time you take your hands in his and promise to write as soon as you land home. 

Suddenly, the kid looks as though he’s gonna steal a kiss from you, making Aemond rush to shield you from him, pushing the kid back – who groans in disbelief and charges towards Aemond once more before you exclaim, “Hey, stop it! Leave Aemond alone!” 

Something happens and I'm head over heels

I never find out until I'm head over heels  

“Leave him alone!? The kid scoffs, eyeing Aemond maliciously. “I’ve been with you the entire evening and it’s his side you’re on!?” 

You stand your ground, holding Aemond’s hand when you notice his bawled fists ready to start punching. 

He doesn’t show it but Aemond swoons. 

“The crippled prince?” The kid guffaws, “You must be joking!” 

As soon as the insult leaves his vicious lips, Aemond pushes him again but the kid yanks his arm, taking him on the ground with him, leaving Aemond upside down with his head right by your heels before you kneel down to help him up. 

Soon Queen Alicent arrives to settle all the fuzz, and the young Lord Cerion’s own mother – as Aemond finally hears the name – comes to take him away back to the table. 

“Are you alright?” You whisper. Aemond nods and you squeeze his hands lovingly, offering him an apologetic smile. “You really did save my neck, Aemond. I cannot stand him. Apparently his family is in negotiations with mine to betrothe us. Gods above, help me.” 

Don't take my heart, don't break my heart, don't throw it away – Aemond thinks, just as his heart takes a deep dive right into his stomach as soon as you say the word, ‘betrothed.’

He weakly smiles, trying to disguise the defeat flashing across his features. 

There must be something he can do…but what? 

I made a fire, and watching it burn

Thought of your future

With one foot in the past, now just how long will it last?

Five years later, you’re at the Red Keep for another celebration, but this time you’re not present at the banquet hall.

Aemond excuses himself from the table to look for you. He knew you had landed indeed, and he was starting to grow concerned. 

Behind the pillars of the highway, he sees your figure struggling against someone’s hold.

Aemond’s body tenses in alert the second he hears your pleas.

The other figure roughly grabs the hem of your skirt, lifting it up, and before they dare press themselves against you, Aemond pounces, hauling the man onto the ground. 

It’s Lord Cerion again.

Adulthood hasn’t treated him as kindly as it did Aemond, who’d grown into a powerful man despite his disability – as tall as a pillar and as agile as a gazelle. Cerion’s got a scruffy black beard, his eyes are milky and bloodshot while his face looks gaunt with malnourishment, framing a  mouth perpetually curved in a hateful scowl. 

“If you touch her again, I will kill you.” Aemond growls down at Cerion, who sneers back. 

“It is my right to touch her, she’s my betrothed! There’s nothing a crippled prince can do to change that!” Cerion spits with vitriol despite remaining at the ground – betraying just how weak he is in comparison to Aemond. Still, Aemond maintains his composure, taking your hand and leading you out of there. 

The next morning, Lord Cerion’s mother’s cries echo throughout the Red Keep, when members of the Kingsguard inform the family that his dead body has been found by the shoreline, just grade above having been turned to coal.

The morning after, Aemond strides to your father and asks for your hand in marriage, with little concern about displaying any grievance towards the deceased Lord Cerion, but much pride in his loyal Vaghar’s dragonfire. 

In my mind's eye

One little boy, one little man

Another five years ahead, he stares from the sidelines with his heart racing. 

There’s a little kid  – who’s birth name is so rarely uttered, in favor of a nickname his parents call him – glued to you throughout the Yule celebrations. Aemond swears you’re glowing with happiness, with how you grin and laugh at the child’s blabbering. You take him in arms and swing his little body around as if he was as light as a feather. 

He’s only four years of age and the absolute light of your lives. His eyes are undoubtedly yours in shape and color, but his silver hair and curved lips are Aemond’s, through and through. 

Aemond ponders that this is what he must’ve looked like beside you, on the very first time he met you. You’d been as young as your son is right now – give a year or two, mayhaps.  

He’d always known. Way before he defended your honor from Lord Cerion and fell head over heels in love. 

And not a day goes by that he’s not glad to have made the fire that brought you back to him.

Funny how time flies

A/N: Happy Valentine's day, friend!!! thank you so much for requesting!! This song choice was excellent because when I read the lyrics carfully, I was like, this is actually a perfect Aemond song!?? Sending you a big bouquet of flowers (if you're not allergic either) and once again, thank you!! x

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #gender neutral reader #aemond targaryen x you #reader insert fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfiction #ewan mitchell #my writing #vday ficlet fest

[dragonflylady77]

This is one of the first fics I wrote and it's been gathering dust in my GDocs, waiting for me to write more.

I'm not sure I will, so in the meantime, you get to read it.

~~~☆☆☆~~~

Stop flirting and get in the house

A 'that night at the Byers house' ficlet for @lovebillyhargrove because she's the sweetest and i love her to bits. ❤️

Read on Ao3

“Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?” Billy says, cigarette dangling from his lips as he takes off his leather jacket and throws it in the car through the open driver window.

The other teen sighs, hands on his hips. “Yeah it's me, don't cream your pants.”

Billy mutters, “Wouldn't be the first time…”

“What?” Shock in Harrington’s eyes and something else… Billy can't tell for sure because it's dark and he might be willing it to be there. Just a little bit. He also realises he said it out loud.

Fuck.

“What?” he says, trying to derail this exchange they're having.

Smooth…

“Oh, now, come on, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Fuck off, Harrington, I'm just here for my sister.”

“See, I wish I could believe that.” Cocky asshole. Acting like he's still that King Steve Tommy keeps yammering on about.

The way he’s standing shows he really wants Billy to get back in his car and fuck off.

Too bad.

Billy doesn't have time for the posturing, not when he's already met Neil's fists once tonight and knows he will meet them again if he comes home without the red-headed pain in his ass.

“I don't give a fuck what you believe, pretty boy. Now hand over my sister. I don't know what bullshit you and the weird kids get up to, but I know it's not worth me paying for it.”

The look on Harrington's face goes from cocky to worried in the space of a breath. “What do you mean, paying for it?”

Billy realises he's said too much. “Fuck this shit.”

He takes a few steps closer to the house, still a distance away from Harrington. Can see the kids in the window, a flash of red. Bellows, “MAXINE!!! TIME TO GO, shitbird.”

“Now wait a minute, there, Hargrove.” Steve moves to stand in his way, hand up, just shy of touching him. “You can't just—”

“You don't wanna test me right now,” Billy bites out, teeth on edge. “Move, pretty boy.”

“Make me.”

That's the moment Max chooses to come storming outside.

“Oh my god Billy, would you stop flirting in front of the children.”

Billy glares at Max before his eyes focus on Harrington again and the way his brown eyes are glued to Billy's chest. He feels his heart skip a beat then.

Maxine pushes past Harrington who's still staring. “Billy, I can't go home, there's serious shit going down.” She stops, waits until he sets his eyes on hers and he can see her make a decision. “We could use your help.”

Billy can't believe his ears. “Oh now you want my help?”

That snaps Harrington out of his trance. “What? Max, we can't—”

“Steve, listen. I know he's an asshole, but he's my brother and I think his anger issues could come in handy.” She turns to Billy. “No offence.”

Billy shrugs and lights a smoke. He knows he’s an asshole with anger issues.

“MAX!”

Does Harrington have to shriek this loud?

“What? I'm sure he'll enjoy smashing those demodogs just as much as you do.”

“I'm not giving him a weapon!”

Billy grunts. “He is standing right there.” He sighs. He’s tired, he’s sore and he’s reaching his limit with all the fucking posturing. “Max, what the fuck is going on?”

“Come inside and I'll explain”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Steve pipes up.

Max rolls her eyes at Steve and walks back into the house.

Billy steps past King Steve with a smug smirk and follows Max, partly because he’s curious to find out what’s going on and also because it’s pissing Harrington off.

He hears Harrington groan behind him and can feel him following close.

When he enters the lounge, Max is in a huddle with the weird kids and they’ve having a hushed argument about him.

He stops and feels Harrington crash into him. The feel of the other teen’s warm body behind him creates a shudder he has no time to stop.

He moves away a bit to lean on the doorframe and crosses his arms in front of him while he waits for the children to decide he’s worthy of knowing what the fuck has them all in a tizzy. Like he fucking cares.

“Max, no…”

“Just do it Dustin.”

“Ugh. Fine”

Billy feels pride bloom in his chest for the way Max takes no shit from those teenage boys.

Billy watches the curly-haired one walk into the kitchen and stop in front of the fridge. The kid looks at Billy then at Max who nods. With a sigh, the boy opens the fridge door and something tumbles out of it.

The silence in the kitchen is eerie as Billy takes in the… creature… that fell out. It’s dark grey, half wrapped in a sheet or something, roughly the size of a big dog, but its head—there’s something wrong with its head, it’s like a freaking flower with teeth.

Billy guesses it’s one of those demodog things Max mentioned outside. He’ll definitely need a weapon if that’s the kind of shit Max and her gaggle of boys are up against.

He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, ignoring the dark look Harrington sends his way. He’s never met Mrs. Byers, but her house is a mess right now, and there’s some dead flower-headed monster in her fridge, so he doubts she’ll mind much if he smokes in her kitchen.

Billy straightens up and sets his eyes on Harrington. “Alright, I’m in.”

The weird kids all start shouting again and Max runs to him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a rare hug that has Billy floundering.

He awkwardly pats her on the shoulder, turning his head to breathe out smoke away from her, because he’s a considerate brother like that.

“Fine,” Harrington says, coming into the kitchen to stand in front of Billy and Billy wants to laugh because King Steve is clearly not the one in charge here.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove ficlet #dragonflylady77

[film-in-my-soul]

steddie - writer’s choice ❤️

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Writer's Choice - Different First Meetings + Modern/Canon Divergence AU (because I don't want to have the period typical homophobia)

.⋆｡°✩ Steve takes the kids to a local concert and manages to get himself front and center when Corroded Coffin takes the stage. ✩°｡⋆.

Steve is going to kill Dustin. And Lucas, too, for that matter. Max he thinks he can forgive, seeing as she's a full head shorter than most of them and out of all the kids (practically adults now, but if Steve thinks about that for too long he'll want to throw up... or cry), she's the one who'll make sure the rest of the buttheads currently scattered throughout the too dark, overly-crowded concert space don't get themselves into trouble. But the fact remains that Dustin had said he'd stick with Steve if they got closer to the stage, that no one else wanted to go with him, and "C'mon Steve! You want to leave me alone with a bunch of metalheads?" only for Dustin to abandon him!

If there's a saving grace, and it's a marginal one at that, Steve's managed to force himself to the front of the slightly raised platform between the bands changing over so he's far enough away from the mini moshpits that keep breaking out. But it also leaves him closer to the more fanatic audience members who aren't particularly mindful of where they're throwing their elbows, and even with his hearing aid turned off, they're loud, a low chant of "Coffin, Coffin, Coffin!" growing in urgency and volume.

Still, it feels safer to be able to crawl along the stage to escape if he needs to, and Steve can admit to himself that he's not having the worst time. That doesn't mean he's not sending Robin passive-aggressive texts every half hour, seeing as she'd tricked him into being the chaperone. He steadfastly ignores the replies where she calls him out, knowing he would have offered himself up anyway.

He's just about to send her another, maybe even send a selfie of his slowly deflating hair and scowl, when the lights dim almost to the point of total darkness.

There's an immediate hush, and then, when the strobes at the back of the stage flair up, imitating lightning, silhouetting figures that weren't there a moment before, the crowd explodes into a roar. It's almost so intense that Steve's bad ear rings. A fog machine hisses to life from somewhere off the right of the stage, and when a good layer of the smoke has started spilling over the lip of it, ghosting over Steve's knees, the rest of the lights come back on, a mix of neon red and flickering white.

There's a bass line kicking up to match the pattern of the blinks, and something about its low sound matching that visual cue and vibrating Steve from his feet to the top of his head easily fights through the screaming people buddying up to Steve and catches his attention in a not so unpleasant way. The drums follow, and it's effortless to connect the hard hits, higher in pitch and almost imperceptible to Steve's fucked hearing, with the nodding head of the musician responsible for it. And then, like a siren call, a distant wail, a guitar comes to life, and Steve's eyes follow the invisible wave of sound only to stop when-

Holy hell.

Right in front of him, only five feet away, with his leg propped up on a pedal and his wild mane of dark frizzy curls shaking with the rock of his body, is the most gorgeous guy Steve's ever seen.

It could be a trick of the mood lighting, or maybe just the combination of envy-worthy hair and wicked, electric smile, but Steve's pretty sure it's the whole damn package.

The guitarist's in a cut-off tank top, the edges of it tattered and the arms slit so low down his sides that Steve can see the curve of black ink crawling across his ribs. His pants are black and leather, like his boots, and each time he moves, picking out a new cord or riff, the flash of the silver jewelry adorning his fingers, chunky, eye-catching rings, is a beacon for Steve to track. He looks like some 80's hard rocker transported right into the twenty-first century with the sole mission to remind everyone why they included 'Sex' in the phrase 'Sex & Drugs & Rock 'n Roll' and from the way he moves, large and confident, throwing off winks and grins, he knows it.

Some of the girls around Steve sound like they're crying, sobbing out the name 'Eddie,' and given that they only get louder when the guitarist swings his hips and hair in their general direction, Steve guesses that's the guy's name.

A lot of the music fades with his attention so readily captured, but Steve likes this band more than the one before, and not just because he has to check if he's drooling when Eddie drops to his knees halfway through a song for a ridiculously attractive guitar solo. The bass is hard, and it's not just senseless thrashing. There's an occasional mellowness to the musical breaks, and the lyrics are followable. It's still not Steve's kind of sound, but dumb as he is about metal music, he knows these guys are good.

There are a few moments where Steve thinks his and Eddie's eyes meet, where one of those winks or blown kisses might be for him. He's still right against the stage, but Steve likes to think he's gotten a grip on his habit of wishful thinking and shrugs it away. He tells himself it's the blonde with the big rack screaming herself shrill just behind his shoulder that's getting all the attention he kind of wants just for himself.

Steve can tell the end of their set is coming up because somehow the energy in the crowd grows tenfold, and there's a new rocking of bodies where every other note of the song currently howling from the amps bumps Steve up against the platform, harder and harder each time. Something's coming. He doesn't know what, couldn't even guess, but the atmosphere is ratcheting to positively feral levels as he's jerked left and right but managing to keep his feet planted. And when the drum solo kicks in, starting soft but growing into a steady crescendo, Steve's proven corrected.

The audience behind him gives one heaving shove, and he trips forward, barely catching himself on the lip of the stage with his palms but nearly smacking his face on it all the same. He curses under his breath and shakes the disorientation from his head when he realizes someone is right in front of him. Steve follows the leather-clad knee up to a leather-clad thigh to a black cut-off tank top until his gaze plants itself right on the smirking mouth of Eddie, the guitarist.

The drums are still going, still rising in intensity like the crowd that's becoming distant white noise to Steve the longer Eddie doesn't move away. Steve doesn't even realize that Eddie's getting closer until there's a hand cupping his cheek, a thumb pressed to the dip of his chin, and his face is tipped up.

"Careful there, big boy," Steve thinks is what Eddie says, mostly reading his still sharply amused lips, and then he's not thinking much of anything because the cymbals of the drums crash, and Eddie is kissing him.

It's deep and messy and so full of blatant showmanship that it's mostly gross. It also has Steve's toes curling and a startled sort of moan forcing itself from his chest. It's quick also. Too quick if he's being honest. He doesn't even get a chance to close his eyes and feel it before Eddie separates from him with a wet pop and before jumping right back into the music.

He blows a kiss right at Steve and punctuates it with a hard-strummed chord on his guitar. Then he's gone, leaving Steve in a momentarily senseless vacuum until the room comes pouring back into his brain, and he's forced to acknowledge the people shaking him in some weird display of congratulations.

Steve's not sure how he's supposed to feel, but he thinks the next time Eddie throws a grin his way, he won't be as quick to dismiss it as being for him.

Ficlet Bingo!

#steddie #steve/eddie #stranger things ficlet #steddie ficlet #ficlet #got a little carried away with this one

[kaizenkhaos]

Okay so as soon as I saw the pool boy Billy post from @ariesbilly, I had to sit down and write something. And lo and behold, half an hour later, here comes my contribution in the form of a ficlet :D Because Billy needed a second job and Steve's mom was looking for a pool boy. And like Billy is ever going to miss a chance to "torment" the pretty boy ;) Brief mention of Billy's home life and his job at Hawkin's Pool. Otherwise it's the boys all the way ^^

It was that time of year again. Summer. And Billy had not just one gig this time but two. Cos apparently being in the house at all during daylight was a red flag and being a man meant being out all days of the week, earning money for the household. There weren't enough hours going at the pool, and Billy hadn't wanted to spend any more hours around damn screaming kids and horny moms anyway. There was only so much he could handle for either of them. The screams setting his teeth on edge, his jaw tightening, and the stares stirring the pit of his stomach in an unpleasant way. So when a notice was plastered outside of the Harrington house, saying somethin' about needing a pool boy, well like hell Billy was gonna give up that opportunity. Nor was he gonna let anyone else scoop it up. With his best smile and swiping the ad from the wall, he'd strode up to that door and sweet talked Mrs Harrington, who'd given him the job on the spot. When could he start? Right away ma'am. Earning money from the rich boy's household and getting to torment him? Maybe this summer was shaping up to be somethin' after all.

He'd not seen him the first couple of days, him or his car. But then one Saturday, the pretty boy had come rolling up the drive. Cu the engine before going through to the back and dumped himself on one of the loungers. Billy had been working on cleaning the edges, looked over at where a smoke trail started to head towards the sky. Wolf grin emerged as he slowly picked himself up. His eyes locked onto Steve as he strolled over to him. Lording over him until Steve finally rolled his eyes in his direction.

"Harrington! So the lord of the manor decides to finally show his face." The look that descended on Steve's face made Billy's grin twice as wide. Well, well, well. He clearly had no idea about the new arrangement. This could be fun. Momma Harrington apparently hadn't let her little boy know that they now had a pool boy. Or who he was.

"What the hell you doing here? Decide that breaking and entering is more your thing?" "Nah, though your pool is worth it any day of the week." Billy cast his eyes over it. How the other life lived. But now he was here, legally, and could do what he always liked to do. No escaping him now huh Harrington.

"You know, you always think you're something special. With your big house and your pool and your hair and all. Swanning around school and this place like you're hot shit. But…." He paused, his grin turning to a sideways smirk as he eyed up the ex-King. "There's always one that's hotter Harrington." An eye roll and Steve took a slow drag of his cigarette before he tilted his head in Billy's direction. Billy watching the snark and all flashing behind his eyes. Wondering what comeback the pretty boy of Hawkins High had in store for him this time. But when all he got was a glare and that, 'Yeah, your point is?' look, Billy leaned further towards him. "Hawkins' a small place man and you know that better than anyone. Being a purebred and all. But you know, I can't help but wonder if you're slipping further. Like it's clear that you don't know the deal I have with your mom, so I can't help but wonder what else you don't know." Now Steve was sitting up and Billy knew he had him just where he wanted him. "Oh, ho ho. King Steve really has fallen. Did Hagan not tell you our deal either?"

"What the hell you going on about?"

Now Billy was so close, he could inhale the smoke fully. It disappeared up his nostrils and puffed back into Steve's handsome face. "Well, one that your mom hired me as your lifeguard to make sure you don't go and drown yourself in this fancy pool of yours. And second, that seeing as you've been putting your ass out there, if I took a liking to you pretty boy. Then I'd get some too."

Steve's face, as Billy pulled back to see the effort of his words. A kleidoscope of emotions crossed the jock's face as he rapidly got to his foot. Fight mode active, eyes blazing. The side of King Steve Billy loved to provoke out of its slumber. The side he wanted to see. He wanted Harrington every which way, but he craved the pushback today. "Hit a nerve? Didn't even have to tell you to get up. But I can tell you somethin' else." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah. Take your damn clothes off. Now."

A snort and he wondered for a brief moment if Steve was gonna tell him to fuck off or would actually comply. An eyebrow crept up his face as Steve's hands went to the bottom of that top which showed off his body. Yeah pretty boy, that's right. Take the bait…. "You want my clothes off huh?" Yep. All nice and riled now wasn't he. Playing right into Billy's hands. "You know that I fucked him right. Him and the whole basketball team. And the cheerleaders. Sometimes at the same time." Billy had of course heard the rumours. That Steve had been practically pimping himself out and it had only taken a few nights with Hagan and Perkins to apparently have switched King Steve back on and put him back in the game. Billy didn't care at all. It's not like he had any room to judge number of bed partners. He just wanted to get his name to the top of the list. And stay there.

"But fine man, you wanna see my ass? Fine." The top was off and finally Billy got to gaze at that fine body whilst getting paid for it. Looking disinterested on the outside, as if it actually bored him to see it. But inside he was running hot, feeling himself swell inside his shorts.

"Get em off Harrington."

A slight pause as Steve slung his top onto the lounger and then worked on his jeans. A fluid motion which Billy wanted to see over and over. A sight which would play on his mind late at night and early in the morning.

"I don't need this shit….. You want this ass? You can have it." Just what he wanted to hear, and see that big bulge waiting for him. It was going to be all his and Billy managed to just keep the eagerness off his face. Couldn't let Steve know how much he'd wanted to be another notch on his bedpost after all. Make him think this was just another fling, another write off and not the start of something else.

"Haven't got all day man. Show me that fucking dump truck of an ass."

#harringrove #billy x steve #kaizen's kreations #inspired by ariesbilly pool boy post #thanks for the inspiration :D #harringrove pool boys #a little bit of smutty and snarky Steve