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hollyoongs · 3 days

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THANK YOU, JAKE ✦ S.JY

pairing tasp!jake x news intern!fem reader

summary when you told your friend about the challenge that your boss put you on in order to work on the company, which was taking a picture of the amazing Spider Man, Jake makes it come true.

genre fluff

warnings both of them like each other, cameo of Jay and Ri-Ki, everything is NYC and I tried to make it short for the other one that I'm planning to make it in the future <3

a/n I can finally get this one up here, I'll do the second part with smut, but Jake's fluff is already needed in this profile. This is my last little present for my em @cmoundiamante (and worst of all, it's late, but I blame my country for that :p), but I'm glad to finally publish it. I know you had an amazing time on your birthday and I want you to look at this little gift as something that can cheer you up for everything you've been through, I'll be there for you and I hope you like it very much. shout out to the editor of THIS Jake Spider-Man, my jupi @glitterjay and also to my lovely moot @ja3yun, this is the spidey!jake I was preparing ;)

wc +3.0k

It was one of those days where everything seemed to conspire against you. As you trudged through the bustling streets of New York City, your camera bag heavy on your shoulder, you couldn't shake off the feeling of exhaustion that clung to you like a stubborn shadow. The sweltering heat of the summer sun only added to your irritation as you made your way to the Daily Bugle, where you were interning as a photographer.

Your future boss, Mr. Jameson, was notorious for his gruff demeanor and demanding nature. Today seemed to be no exception, as he barked orders at the staff, his voice reverberating through the newsroom like thunder. Your friend, Jay, was massaging his forehead, and you couldn't help but go there first. He looked up to see you and gave you a tired smile.

"Rough already?"

"And it's not even 9 a.m." Jay spat in anger, and you opened your bag to give him some of the jelly you always carry around. He took them slightly happier, opening as he started talking again. "He's putting stupid challenges on everyone here. Rumor has it that he's getting jealous of the other newspaper company since they took the #1 place from us."

"Well, wish me luck." You braced yourself for another onslaught of criticism as you approached his desk, hoping to avoid his wrath.

"Ah, there you are," Mr. Jameson said, his tone dripping with impatience. "I've got a special assignment for you."

You felt your heart sink at his words, knowing that whatever task he had in store would likely be arduous and thankless, just like Jay said. But you nodded, steeling yourself for whatever was to come.

"I want you to get me a picture of Spider-Man," he said bluntly, his eyes narrowing in a challenging glare.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at his request. Spider-Man? The elusive vigilante who swung through the city was a hero to some and a menace to others. Getting a photo of him in action was no small feat, and you knew it.

"But how am I supposed to…" you began, but Mr. Jameson cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"I don't care how you do it; just get it done," he said firmly. "And make it front-page material, or you'll be out of your ear."

With that ominous warning hanging in the air, you felt a wave of panic wash over you. How were you supposed to capture a photo of Spider-Man when you could barely catch a break in your own life? Desperation clawed at your chest as you racked your brain for a solution. He looked at Jay, and he was with his mouth open. She was simply screwed.

The hours passed slowly, and 7 o'clock of the night finally reached, which made you fly to the only place you find comfort at the moment. Shim Jake's place. Feeling all the weight on your shoulders, you sigh as you knock on the door. His aunt opens before your knuckles can touch the door.

"Hey darling… Oh no, bad day?" like a button, your eyes got watery, and she hugged you. You hold your tears as she loses you in the warm hug. "I'm going to buy food. Jake and Ni-Ki are in the room. I know what you like."

"You are truly the best, May."

"I know, darling. Go." She left you, and you entered the house, going directly to the Australian boy's room. You knocked, and you heard things falling.

"Who's it?"

"Who else, Ni-Ki? Come on, I had a bad day, and I need you guys."

"Hold on a second!" A few seconds passed, and Jake was the one who opened the door, his messy hair, sweat pant and big white shirt and hsi big glasses that made him look more handsome than usual in front of you. "Hey lensgirl, what's wrong?"

You went for a hug, this time with tears going down and your crying getting noticeable.

Jake was taken aback by your sudden display of emotion, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured softly, rubbing your back soothingly. "What happened? Why are you crying?"

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself as you pulled away slightly. "It's just… work," you managed to choke out between sobs. "Mr. Jameson… He wants me to get a photo of Spider-Man for the front page, and I- I don't know how to do it. I'm so screwed, Jake."

Jake's expression softened with understanding, though you had no idea just how much he truly understood. "Hey, it's okay," he repeated, guiding you to sit on his bed. "We'll figure it out, okay? You're not alone in this."

Ni-Ki, hearing the commotion, poked his head out from behind the doorframe. "Jake can help," he said, and you could feel Jake getting tense. You looked up to Ni-Ki.

"What?"

"Jake knows Spider-Man. You could get the picture." You open your eyes as your eyes travel again to Jake's.

"Since when?!" You practically shouted at him, and he gave a shy smile, which you loved, but the thought of him being friends with the hero and not telling you was in your mind.

"I'll tell you right after you clean and calm yourself. You know what? Go to the bathroom." As you were protesting, Jake obligated you to go inside. The boys went straight to the room and locked it, Jake basically punching Ni-Ki for opening his mouth.

"Are you being serious?! Why did you say that?"

"You know I'm fond of her, and I can't stand her crying. And also, I'm doing you a favor; you've liked her since forever, and with this, you can make a move. And you know that she loves Spider-Man. I consider this a win."

Jake's heart raced as he processed Ni-Ki's words. He couldn't deny the truth about them. He had harbored feelings for you for what felt like forever, but he never found the courage to act on them, and because of the sudden powers he got after being bite by a spider, the dangers were too much to the point he would rather die with the secret in order to keep you save. That's how much he loved you.

But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. Keeping his identity as Spider-Man a secret was crucial, and now, with you unknowingly on the brink of discovering the truth, he felt the pressure mounting.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Jake turned to Ni-Ki. "Okay, okay," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "But we have to be careful. She can't know about this, Ni-Ki. It's too risky."

Ni-Ki nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I won't say anything else, I promise. Only you have to stay cool, you get to nervous around her. I'm surprise you're not right now" he assured Jake.

"Because someone open his mouth"

"Stop crying and be grateful. I pulled a move that you couldn't make for the past 4 years."

It has already been two days since that weird conversation and the explanation of Jake being friends with Spider-Man. It was so odd to you, but the most odd thing was when he told you by text, "I will send you the address where he's going to be."

And here you were, going into the alley for him to arrive. It was getting late, and you could feel your heart beating fast when you saw a few guys in there, cigars in their hands, their auras as bad as how they looked.

"Hey, sweetheart," one of them said, which you ignored completely.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you ignored the leering comments from the men in the alley. You clutched your camera bag tightly, feeling a surge of unease as you realized just how vulnerable you were in this dimly lit space.

Just as panic threatened to overtake you, a familiar sound cut through the tension—a whoosh of air followed by the distinct thud of impact. Before you could even process what was happening, Spider-Man descended from the shadows, landing gracefully in front of you with his trademark agility.

"Hey there, fellas," Spider-Man said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "I don't think the lady appreciates your company."

The men scoffed, eyeing Spider-Man with a mixture of defiance and uncertainty. "And who are you supposed to be, huh?" One of them sneered, taking a step forward. You started taking your camera out of your bag, setting it up for a good shot, and to make it take as many photos as you could as both men focused on the hero.

Spider-Man's demeanor shifted subtly, his stance becoming more assertive as he addressed the group. "Let's just say I'm the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and I'm not too keen on seeing people hassle innocent bystanders, especially this pretty girl," he replied, his tone firm.

The men hesitated, sizing up the masked vigilante before them. But before they could make another move, Spider-Man sprang into action, his movements a blur of speed and precision. With calculated strikes and well-timed dodges, he swiftly incapacitated the would-be troublemakers, leaving them groaning on the ground in defeat.

You watched in awe as Spider-Man effortlessly dispatched the thugs, a surge of gratitude welling up inside you. Once the immediate threat had been neutralized, Spider-Man turned to you, his masked eyes meeting yours with a sense of warmth and reassurance. You took your camera and looked at the pictures, so many good enough to be front page material.

"Are you okay there?" he asked, his concern evident even behind the mask.

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you in his presence. "Yeah, I'm okay," you stammered, still trying to process the whirlwind of events that had just unfolded before you. You felt some drops of water falling on your face, looking up at the sky and wondering if more drops were falling. "Damn it, it's raining."

"Then let me take you out of here." without a warning, his hand wrapped around your waist, both of your bodies covering the camera. "Hold on tight lensgirl," you frown at the nicknmae. There's only one person that could call you like that, but you couldn't think much of it as you held dear life to him as he swang you around places.

You ended up on your apartment building—in your balcony, to be more exact—and the roof kept both of you off the water, you went inside for a moment to leave the camera in your bed and return. He was hanging from the ceiling as you watched him, forcing you to believe that everything that happened in the past ten minutes was not a dream.

"Don't you want to stand up? So you don't get dizzy."

"I like it this way. Don't worry. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you."

"No problem, that's my job."

"Because you're a hero," the masked guy sighs in front of you. making you feel slighty sad for it.

"Some people don't think so." and it was true, all the fake rumors to paint him as a bad guy made you think about how much free time all this people have to just tear the life of someone who really wants to help.

"But you are, at least I think that."

"It's nice to have a fan as pretty as you."

"Let me say thank you."

"But you already did."

"I meant the trip, not you saving me." You approached him more, and the sound of the rain at the back made the scene more lovely. Then slowly took the mask, only showing his lips. You were surprised by the familiar shape, making your mind go wild. No wonder Ni-Ki and Jake got nervous; no wonder Jake was the only one that could help you with the hero; and there's no wonder why he called you "Lensgirl."

Jake was Spider-Man.

Leaving your thoughts behind, you place your lips on his. The kiss was electrifying, a rush of emotions coursing through both of you as your lips met in a tender embrace. Raindrops fell softly around you, adding to the surreal moment as you shared this intimate connection with the masked hero who had just swept you off your feet—literally.

As the kiss deepened, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you. Everything suddenly made sense—the mysterious conversations, the unspoken tension between you and Jake, even the strange nickname he had given you. It was all because he was Spider-Man, the hero you had admired from afar, and now he was the man whose lips were pressed against yours.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the kiss, the world fading away until it was just the two of you tangled together on that rooftop balcony.

"Thank you, Jake," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

"Wait… how?"

"You let out "Lensgirl," and I've stared at your lips too much to actually know the shape," he finally dropped himself, taking off his mask completely, revealing his red cheeks and normal shy demeanor.

He actually searched your face for any sign of rejection. "I know it's a lot to take in," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "But I wanted to tell you, not in this way; I've got to learn to also shut my mouth up. I… I care about you more than you'll ever know."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached up to cup his face in your hands, the weight of everything finally sinking in. "I care about you too, Jake," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "I just… I never imagined…"

Before you could finish your sentence, Jake leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss, sealing the unspoken words between you with a promise of something more.

With a smile on your lips and love in your heart, you leaned into Jake's embrace, letting the warmth of his touch chase away the chill of the night as you watched the city skyline glitter in the rain.

"Please write a good news about me."

"Trust me, you'll sure have it, Spidey."

"I just realized that I've to thank Ri-Ki, damn it."

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lysenfeu · 6 months

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Helluva Drug

Rating: Explicit 18+ Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Civilian!FReader Word Count: 3.7k Prompt: Sex pollen

Summary: A civilian gets caught in the crossfire as Vigilante busts a drug operation outside Evergreen and they both get exposed to a strange new substance. Content: Violence, Kidnapping, Dubcon (sex pollen), Accidental Drugging, Smut (F/M), Sex with strangers, Rough sex, Unprotected Sex (no condom)

A/N: It’s a Vigilante-mission-themed fic so please heed the warnings, Vig is a little unhinged and there’s some canon-typical violence and mature themes. Also, Reader is pretty nonchalant about the dubcon and both of them have a good time. Enjoy!

[Read on AO3] [Kinktober 2023 Masterlist]

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"Peacemaker, it's Vigilante. I just got the scoop on a big heroin shipment coming in tonight! Let's go down there…" -Adrian Chase, Peacemaker S01E01

Your night wasn’t supposed to go like, it really wasn’t. It had started off as a completely normal shift. You were going about your regular deliveries on your assigned postal route, a quiet little stretch that dipped in and out along the small town Washington state roads. The last stop before you could go home was a drop-off in a warehouse district office address on the outskirts of Evergreen.

Your job was routine, boring and you’d gotten complacent. You hadn’t been paying attention, simply dropping off the parcel and walking back to your truck with the music blaring in your headphones. With your head in the clouds, you completely failed to realize something terrible was happening before it was too late.

You heard the shouting next to your ear a mere second before your earbud was yanked out and you were grabbed from behind. You didn't even get a chance to scream before a hand was covering your mouth and two men were shoving you through a side door into one of the warehouses you thought was empty. After a very brief interrogation, in which you determine these are not very good men and this is definitely not an empty warehouse, they disagree on what to do next.

So now. you were sitting on the cold hard floor of the warehouse, hands zip-tied behind you, wondering what the fuck is going to happen. At least they haven’t hurt you…yet.

The sun was starting to set when you arrived here, you’re not sure how long you’ve been stuck here but you’re certain it’s fully dark outside now. You sighed, flexing your wrists to try and get the ache out of them, the damned zip ties are very uncomfortable. Your head snapped up when you heard yelling coming from outside. Bracing yourself for another unexpected development you were caught off guard when a masked man in black and teal barreled into the room and pointed a pistol at you.

"Oh god, please don't hurt me!" You immediately squeezed your eyes shut in fear, deeply worried about what might happen to you next.

You waited for the sound of the gun firing but nothing happened. You cracked an eye open and he was just standing there instead. Instead of shooting you as you thought, although the gun was still pointed at you, he cocked his head to the side, studying you carefully.

"You don't look like a drug dealer."

"I'm not. I work for the post office." You nodded at your uniform, clearly displaying your profession. “Can you tell me who the fuck you are?”

“I’m Vigilante. Who the fuck are you ?”

You shook your head in dismay. “Someone who really doesn’t want to be here.”

“You gonna tell me what the hell is a postal worker doing in a cartel hideout?”

“Wrong place, wrong time.” You grumbled, still deeply regretting your life choices as you explained what had happened to you earlier.

“Well lucky for you, I’m here.”

He crouched down beside you and pulled out a knife. You flinched, still on edge from the kidnapping, but he simply grabbed your hands and cut you free. You stood up trying to ignore the pins and needles pricking at your wrists as you took a better look at the masked stranger who rescued you. You had no idea who he was but he did look rather impressive. Tall, broad shoulders, slutty waist and a lot of weapons. He didn't look half bad, even if you couldn’t see his face and he was wearing teal. Very lucky for you.

You followed him out the door and when you looked down the hall, your eyes widened in shock. “Did…did you kill them?’

“Hm?” Vig took a quick look in the direction your gaze was fixed and saw the mess. “Oh yeah, definitely. All dead, don’t worry about it.”

You were a bit shaken up by the bodies on the floor outside the room, leaking blood and brains all over the floor. You held your breath and tried not to look too long as you gingerly stepped over the corpses. Vigilante kept his hand on your arm, leading you down the hallway while looking for the exit. You were startled by a noise coming from behind you and you looked over your shoulder, quickly screaming as you saw the barrel of a handgun pointed at you. Vig spun around, pulling out his own weapon and firing a few shots toward the very pissed-off gang member. He yanked at your arm and shoved you through the first open door on the left.

You were absolutely livid. “You said you killed them all!”

“I thought I did! I got all four of them!”

He pushed you across the room, a shabby office full of shelves and some scattered furniture. You crouched down on the floor behind a rickety metal table with something wrapped in brown paper strewn on it. You hissed at him with barely suppressed anger.

“There were FIVE.”

He huffed in annoyance. “Obviously I know that now .”

You covered your ears and ducked down as gunshots rang out, echoing through the warehouse. Your ears were ringing as the two men exchanged fire, when a stray bullet flew over the table and the paper package exploded. A cloud of white powder spread out and dusted around the room. You coughed as it got into your nose and mouth. You noted that it smelled like lavender and tasted like pine trees, a very strange combination. You wiped it off your face with your sleeves and risked a glance over the edge of the table. The shots had stopped and the man in teal looked over at you.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You panicked a little at the thought of being left alone again after all the unexpected violence. “Where are you going?!”

He hesitated for a second before answering you. “I’m just gonna go and count again. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna keep you safe, okay?”

You nodded, not having much choice otherwise. “Okay.”

You pulled yourself up from behind the table and tried to steady your nerves. You started to feel tingling in your fingertips and wondered if you were having a panic attack. But instead of the usual tunnel vision, you just felt…warm. Really, really warm. Uncomfortably warm, like someone poured hot water directly into your veins. Sweat gathered on your forehead and your thoughts started to get jumbled, you were having a hard time focusing on anything.

“Are you okay?”

You spun around to see that Vigilante had finally come back. You took a long hard look at him, really taking your time studying the strange man in front of you. Had teal always looked this attractive? He was dangerous, certainly, but you found you didn’t mind that too much right now. Maybe he miscounted but he had still saved you, he was clearly a good guy, a hero. Your hero.

Vig was watching you with deep concern.

“Hey, come here.”

He reached out and you let him pull you forward with no protest. Your pupils were blown out so wide your eyes were practically black, your cheeks were bright red and you were glistening with sweat. Vig frowned under the cover of his mask, something wasn’t right. You weren’t like this a moment ago. He tugged off one of his gloves and pressed his bare hand to your forehead discovering your skin was blazing hot. The moment he touched you, you felt tingles spread through every cell of your body. You felt like you’d been electrocuted and suddenly you knew there was only one thing you could possibly do next. You don't bother to fight the impulses screaming at you to get close to him, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. Your addled brain clearly didn’t think things through as you got a mouthful of nylon instead of soft skin, which was doing nothing to sate the overwhelming urgency racing through you.

He stumbled backwards as your fingers fumbled around the back of his neck, haphazardly trying to tug the fabric off. He grabbed your hands, yanking them away from his head and flinging you back.

“What the hell?! Don’t touch the fucking mask!”

“I’m sorry! I just-” You tried to calm down and remember how to breathe. “-want to kiss you so bad.” The only intelligible thought your mind was able to conjure was how badly you needed him to touch you, kiss you, anything . Your body was on fire and the only thing that would help was him. Your entire being was vibrating, desperately craving a taste of the teal and black-clad stranger in front of you.

Vigilante moved away from you as fast as he could, putting some space between your bodies as he started to feel way too hot. He tried taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. Something weird was going on, you were staring at him like you wanted to eat him. He started to pant, suddenly feeling very lightheaded as he smelled a hint of flowery something and what tasted kind of like Christmas filtered through the fibres in his mask. An unexpected warmth flooded his system, rapidly coursing through every inch of his body.

“Shit, why is it so hot in here? What the fuck.”

Beads of sweat started dripping down the back of his neck and the dark fabric stretched over his face started feeling deeply uncomfortable as his temperature kept rising. In less than a minute he felt like he was sitting on the surface of the sun, his body overwhelmed by waves of heat. He needed to keep the mask on, needed to protect his identity from you, there was too much danger. He didn’t even know you but when he looked over at you, his brain short-circuited. Everything that wasn't you was thrown out of his mind, right now you were all he could think about. His body burned at the thought of getting his hands on you. He needed to touch you, sink his teeth into you, just fucking feel you any way he could.

He wasn’t sure how long he managed to stay on the other side of the room. It felt like hours but was actually less than a minute until he just couldn’t take it anymore. He slipped his hands under the edge at the back and yanked his mask off, dropping it carelessly to the floor. He felt a degree or two cooler and took a few deep breaths, feeling the air on his bare face. He turned to face you, his cheeks flushed pink and still breathing heavily.

You managed to get a decent look at his adorable dimples, messy dark curls and bright green eyes, darkened just like yours, before you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. You practically pounced on him, your hands reaching out to grab the back of his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss. The second you touched him, the tingles came back in full force. It felt like you’d be shocked and any remaining shred of coherent thought either of you had flew out the window. This is all you wanted, what you needed. Vigilante had completely stopped fighting, his hands flying out to grab your hips and pull you closer as he hungrily kissed you back. Thanking any and every higher power that he took the mask off, you sank your teeth into his bottom lip. He groaned and you took the opportunity to shove your tongue in his mouth as his hands began to slide along your lower body, skating over your hips and waist, grabbing at your clothes and touching anywhere he could reach.

You finally broke the kiss to catch your breath and started clawing at his shoulders, you needed the barriers between you gone immediately. You were trying your best to tug off the layers of armour that were so irritatingly in your way, the tactical equipment the only thing keeping you from your ultimate desire. He regrettably removed his hands from your ass to do it himself, quickly moving to a series of hidden straps and buckles to release the complex gear. You started stripping off your own clothes, fumbling with the buttons in your haste before shucking off the rest of your uniform in record time.

You barely had time to spin around before it was his turn to pounce. You gasped as he suddenly gripped the backs of your thighs and lifted you, pressing you against the nearest wall. Fuck, he was strong, holding you up like it was nothing. You whimpered, feeling yourself flood with wetness as his hands on your bare skin fed the desire racing through you.

“Need you. Now.” was the only thing you were able to mumble before you buried your face in his neck, not being able to resist scraping your teeth along the toned muscle.

Any other words you may have thought of were immediately shoved out of your mind as he reached down and positioned his cock at your entrance. He slowly slid inside you, letting you feel every inch dragging along your inner walls. Your head tipped back as he bottomed out and you were overwhelmed with how impossibly full you felt. His cock was absolutely incredible, the perfect fit to hit every sweet spot deep inside you. He wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and placed his free hand behind your head to stop you from smacking into the wall as he began to thrust. You dug your nails into his shoulders and moaned shamelessly as he set a brutal pace, not being able to hold back from pounding into you with his full strength. You barely resisted the urge to sink your teeth into the bicep flexed beside your head, instead leaning forward to capture his lips again. The light taste of juniper lingered mixed with the raw taste of him. Vigilante tasted faintly of mint with a hint of gunpowder and copper, the last flavour possibly being from your earlier bite.

You were completely lost in him, gazes locked on each other. Your breasts were pressed firmly against his chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his skin offering delicious friction as you bounced on his cock. You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs as you gushed around him, an endless stream of pleasure he was wringing from your body. You were practically drowning in the sea of his green eyes as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Your eyes fluttered closed involuntarily as the pressure built more and more, coiling in your lower abdomen.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly he was going to finish you off, he just felt so goddamn good . He swore and bit down on your shoulder when you finally screamed and clenched tightly around him. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably as spots danced across your vision, blurring everything out as you rode out the high. You were almost boneless in his arms as he continued to fuck you through your release.

You expected him to climax soon after you but he surprised you when he stopped, pulled out and set you back down on the floor. You whined at the loss of his cock inside you, feeling desperately empty without the warmth filling you up. Your legs were a little wobbly, still off balance from the intense orgasm just moments before but he steadied you, ensuring you didn’t tumble to the ground. You didn’t have to wonder long about what was happening as he quickly maneuvered you over to the table and placed a hand on your lower back, pushing down until you were bent over and exposed.

“Stay like that for me, fuck, just like that.”

You weren’t sure how he was managing to string words together when you had been reduced to nothing but moans and whimpers for a while. You also weren't sure how much more of this exquisite torture you could take but your hazy mind and body were still screaming for his touch and you mindlessly spread your feet further apart, making room for him. You rested your elbows and chest on the table and held still as he pushed his still-hard cock back inside you.

He leaned over and pressed you harder against the table with his full weight, his incredibly toned chest keeping you still as his fingers dug into your hips. Oh, fuck . You gasped as the new position let him hit even deeper inside you. You could barely breathe as his hips snapped into you over and over, the sound filling the small room. All you could do was hold on and try to stay conscious as you were mercilessly railed by Vigilante.

Your second climax hit you like a freight train, letting out a scream as your back arched and your body convulsed underneath him. He had the presence of mind to pull out at the last second, thick ropes of cum splattering onto the grey concrete instead of deep inside you. You had a fleeting thought about what a waste that was before your legs finally gave out and you sank down to the floor.

You lay flat on the cold warehouse floor for a moment, simply trying to catch your breath and ride out the aftershocks still rocketing through you. When you finally floated back down to Earth, you pulled yourself up and set about getting dressed. You were still a bit sweaty and your thighs were sticky as you picked up your scattered clothing. You slowly tugged your uniform back on, casually noting some of the small bruises and marks Vig had pressed into your skin with his hands and teeth.

After you were dressed you stood around awkwardly for a moment, avoiding looking at the redressed Vigilante as he pulled his mask back on. You wondered what you should say or do next. What was the social protocol here? What should you say? You were grateful when he spoke up first.

“Sex Panther.”

That…was not what you were expecting.

“What?”

He turned towards you and held up the ruined paper package from the table. “It says ‘Sex Panther’. I think these guys were importing more than just heroin.”

You started to put two and two together with the drug cartel, the powder in the air and the Sex Panther label.

“So that stuff is what made all of…” You gestured awkwardly between the two of you, “This… happen?”

Vigilante nodded at you. "Looks like it. I think you got a way bigger dose, my mask filtered some of it."

You exhaled slowly, trying to process the information. Sex drugs explained a lot, you weren't normally the type to uncontrollably jump strangers' bones 5 minutes after meeting them (especially after watching them kill someone in front of you…). You shook your head to clear the last of your lingering mental haze and exhaustion started to set in. You were tired and your muscles were starting to ache from this whole ordeal, between the kidnapping and frenzied sex.

“So… what now?”

"How do you feel?"

You suppressed a tiny smile, that was really nice of him to ask.

"Fine, a little worn out but fine." You looked around the ruined office and felt how damp and sticky you felt. "Um…can I go home now?"

He checked your eyes, they were back to normal. Your skin was still a little flushed but you were breathing normally and seemed okay.

“Yeah, sure. Come on.”

Vigilante cautiously led you out of the warehouse and walked you back to your truck, saying it was the least he could do after everything that happened. You climbed into the vehicle and fumbled around for your keys.

“You sure you're gonna be okay to drive?”

“Yeah, uh. I feel fine, mostly. Just a little sore.” You coughed awkwardly, blushing a little as you looked away from him. “I really should go. My boss is gonna be pissed.”

He nodded. “Hey, just before you leave… “

You held your breath, wondering what he might want to ask next.

“You know you can’t tell anyone about this, right?”

You schooled your face into a deadpan expression, hiding your brief moment of disappointment that it wasn’t him asking for your number. “What, I shouldn't mention I was kidnapped by a drug gang, held hostage, watched a masked stranger kill some guys then got accidentally drugged with said stranger and had some of the best sex of my life in a random warehouse?”

Your eyes widened and you looked everywhere but at him as you chewed your lip nervously. That wasn’t exactly what you planned on admitting, it just flew out, you were tired . You watched the corners of his eyes crinkle up through the red visor as he smiled under the mask.

“Well hey, that last part is fine but definitely not the other stuff.” His eyes narrowed and his tone got a little more serious. “This warehouse isn’t the only one that gang is operating, if you tell anyone about this, you'll have a target on your back. And you saw my face. So if you tell anyone about me, I'll have to kill you and that would suck because you’re really pretty.”

You sucked in an uneasy breath at the explicit threat to your life mixed with the strangely sweet compliment. “O-okay, sure. I won't tell anyone. Promise.”

His shoulders relaxed and his tone picked up again. “Okay, awesome. Sorry about all the shooting and you know, the accidental drugging. But I’m definitely not sorry the sex was so great. See ya!”

He stepped back and gave a little wave as you pulled out of the lot, quickly heading back towards home. You shook your head in disbelief at the events of your evening. Even if you did try and tell someone, who the fuck would believe you? Kidnapping, masked strangers and sex drugs? It was too weird to be real… unless you’re in Evergreen, apparently. Oh well. You didn’t die and it could’ve been worse, at least he was cute.

Really, really cute.

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A/N: This one was a lot of fun to write so I really hope you guys enjoy it! Feel free to leave a comment, reblog or like <3

#adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #vigilante x you #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x you #adrian chase smut #adrian chase fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #lysenfeu fics

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sandy-the-glader · 2 months

Note

Hi!! I hope this is okay!! If not, no worries!! 💜💜💜 (I love you lots!)

Can I please request an Adrian Chase x fem!innocent!reader Where while Adrian is out and about doing his Vigilante work he comes across a bunch of criminals in a warehouse, and after they’re all “taken care of”, he hears someone crying and finds a girl hiding behind a pile of the criminal’s stuff, and she’s handcuffed to something over there, so she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. She’d obviously be completely terrified of Vig, but as we know, he is very good at reading a person and would clearly see that she is innocent, and had been taken by the bad guys. Normally he would just set the innocent girl free and be on his way, having already taken care of the bad guys, however… He had unfortunately taken off his mask right before finding her, and had forgotten to put it back on, so she has seen his face. Panicking, he just picks her up, and takes her to his car with him, driving straight to the 11th Street Kids HQ, carrying in a terrified Y/n, he himself all panicked, and the team is like “wtf did you do????” “Did you abduct her???” And he’s just like, “No no, I saved her! But then she saw my face… So I guess, yes??”

Lmao it’s honestly a mess, but the team takes care of Y/n’s injuries, apologies for Adrian’s behavior lmao, and lets her stay there until she has recovered, as not only is she hurt, but very scared. After a while of staying with them, she gradually starts warming up to Adrian, him desperately trying to get her not to be afraid of him anymore (for a while there she was terrified of him), and their relationship eventually grows into a more romantic and intimate one🥺🥺🤧

Afraid of Me

*Not my gif*

Character: Adrian Chase x SoftFem!Reader

Type: Fluff and sorta angsty

Length: 5.4K (a bit long)

Summary: Request above <3

Trope: Strangers to friends to lovers, Slow-burn

A/N: LONG A/N!! Sorry this took forever I've been busy with a lot of stuff and I just haven't had any time but I worked on this whenever I could. Btw again I bent the request a little bit (I'm not sure if I wrote what you wanted for it and I apologize ) so I hope it’s okay I just made this go over the whole period of time the show does and like more so there's more time for a bond to be built lol

I heard a quick gunshot followed by another. Tears continued to fall from my eyes as I was tied to some random wall in some warehouse, Apparently, I was not supposed to come across two men selling heroin to each other but here I am. They claimed I saw too much, took me, and tied me up. Who even does that?

I just wanted to return to my apartment and read this new book I bought. That's all I had planned for my day anyway. Yet now I was tied to a pole in some wet and cold warehouse with random crates surrounding me. I tugged and tried to break from but it was helpless. I cried and sniffled as I continued to try but there was no avail.

Were those shots from them or someone else? Please god, let someone save me. I had been here for hours and I was scared of what they had planned for me. They already hit me pretty hard over the head which caused a small trail of blood to fall from my temple.

I heard loud and heavy footsteps coming towards me. I braced myself and waited for the figure to come around the crate to where I was. He was wearing a teal suit, with blood covering it. It was Vigilante. Should I be happy or terrified? He's a killer but isn't he supposed to be a hero?

"Fuck oh my god." He gasped slapping a gloved hand over his mouth. He was missing one exceptionally important part of his suit. His mask. That must have been why he was so frantic.

In all honesty, he looked nothing like I always pictured him. He was lanky with glasses and he looked really young. He looked mid-twenties though I had a feeling he was older. He honestly looked nerdy.

"I'm sorry. I really won't tell anyone who you are. I-I mean I don't even know your name." I stammered. He didn't care though because he continued to curse.

"Fuck fuck fuck. This is so not good." he groaned. The man ran a thick hand through his hair while bouncing back and forth. "Umm." He pondered confused about what to do. "Shit, I can't let you go." My eyes widen. He already has saved me why not let me go on my merry way? He took off his glasses and put his mask back on.

He came over to me and examined my situation. He crouched down and started untieing the rope that kept me on the pole but didn't bother with the ones around my hands or feet.

I was about to thank him for his acts but he picked me up and started to carry me out. Oh, he's actually not letting me go.

"What are you doing!?" I panicked. I started wiggling my body in his grasp then he held me tighter. "Where are you taking me? This hurts." He continued to keep walking until we reached his car a couple of feet from the warehouse.

Holding me with one hand, he opened the door to his back seat and tossed me in. Judging by his face, he didn't mean it to be as aggressive but it was enough to get me to shut up. He slammed the door and rushed over to the driver's seat.

This is it. After all that's happened today I'm being kidnapped by Vigilante and who knows what's going to happen. I guess the law doesn't apply when it comes to him. I actually can't believe it right now.

The entire car ride was silent. Not a sound from the man or from me. It was terrifying. All I could think of was what was going to happen to me. it took him forever to get to his destination and when we got there I realized it was some rundown video store. That couldn't be where we're going right?

"Guy's we got a fucking situation!" Adrian called opening the door with the girl in his hands. The whole team in the building stared at him with wide 'What the fuck' like eyes.

"Who the fuck is that?" Economos asked adjusting his glasses and leaning over his desk.

Adrian (not so carefully) dropped the woman on the floor making her yelp out in shock and pain.

"Did you just kidnap a girl?" Adebayo's eyes widened at the sight.

"No Adebayo!" He yelled defensively. "Okay, well technically yes but-" He was cut off quickly.

"And why did you bring her here?" Harcourt burst out running a hand through her blonde hair.

"Okay, I was doing my badass stuff, right? Like beating up these bad dudes and I found her behind some crates." They all stared at him waiting for him to continue. "And since I didn't know these dudes took a hostage I took my mask off and that's-" He removed his mask again and replaced the glasses on his face. "Really bad." He grimaced.

"Adrian what the hell dude you could have left her. She would have never turned you in. Look at her. No offense." Chris said. She stayed silent like she never heard the comment in the first place.

She was scared to death, trembling on the floor with small tear streaks down her face. Some of the tears mixed in with blood on the left side of her face. She looked innocent as could be and she definitely didn't deserve to be in this mess.

"Dude what the fuck!" He shouted at Chris. "Now she knows my real name! You have so fucked me!" He continued to cure which didn't make the girl feel any better.

"I did not fuck you! Besides it's your fault for bringing her here anyway." Chris furrowed his eyebrows looking back and forth between the petrified girl and his idiotic friend.

"What is happening out here?" Murn came out from one of the rooms and immediately regretted his decision. "We're supposed to be working on the project butterfly case what are you doing Chase?" He asked sternly.

"Oh, now she knows about Project Butterfly!" Harcourt placed a hand on her forehead.

"Well, it's not like I can kill her because she's innocent" The girl's face drained at the mention of death. "and we can't get rid of her because she might tell someone who I am!" Adrian wined out. He was finally right about one thing.

"She also might screw our plan up," Murn muttered trying to think of a reasonable thing to do with this girl.

"Then what do you suppose we do with her?" Economos folded his arms. The girl had been silent the entirety of this conversation but she finally piped up.

"Um.." Her voice caught everyone's attention and they turned their heads to look at her. "I-I can clean and o-organize around here." She stammered. "I can help you guys just please don't kill me." She pleaded. They all non-verbally agreed she had been through enough judging by the look of blood running from her temple and dirt caking her shirt.

"Yeah that honestly could be useful," Harcourt spoke. She looked around the room to only be met with agreeing faces. She let out another deep sigh before Murn spoke up.

"You will work the same hours as us and will get paid a fair amount." He folded his arms tightly over his chest. He didn't ask he just demanded she work.

"I'm also a fast learner and I can help you with anything you need. I don't have a current job so that would be perfect." She tried to look at the bright side of the situation. I can work for money but this is a destructive and hard-core business she pondered. "And since this is a very um dangerous job I just so happened to be trained in medical care." She offered.

"Oh, sweet! That's perfect so now dyed bear can stop doing such a shit job of stitching me up!" Chris smiled.

"Hey!" Economos protested. It was perfectly fine he thought.

"What about my living situation? C-can I still stay In my apartment?" She asked. They all looked around at each other because that was one thing they hadn't thought of. If they let her stay, she could always tell people without them knowing.

"If we let you stay in your apartment, you must realize he" Murn pointed at Adrian Chase himself. "has to keep watch of you? He somehow always knows if someone is doing something they shouldn't be." She nodded slowly. "And if you tell anyone and I mean anyone you will be terminated immediately, do you understand?" He spoke firmly making her hands tremble.

"I understand." She muttered.

"Now that everyone is done with this whole situation I suggest you get back to work," Murn concluded walking back to his office annoyed with the inconvenience.

I sat there absolutely stunned at what just happened. I just got myself into a bat shit crazy job. I mean I don't even know these people and one of them literally abducted me. This is not normal.

Project butterfly? Are these guys all heroes or something? I already was aware of Vigilante's existence and somewhat Peacemaker but there's a lot more than just those two.

"Oh my god, he didn't even untie you." The blonde-haired woman spoke in surprise. I didn't say anything because really what was I supposed to say? "I'm Harcourt." She kneeled beside me. She opened a switchblade and sliced through the ropes binding my hands together and then my feet. "Come on let's get you cleaned up. She went and collected the first aid kit from one of the desks on the left side of the room and motioned for me to sit at her desk. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Y/n L/n." I said quietly as I stared into my lap anxiously.

"Come sit Y/n." She said calmly trying to make me comfortable.

I stood up uneasily and almost fell back down. I steadied myself and carefully walked over to the chair and sat down gently. She pulled out a couple of cotton swabs and some alcohol. She poured the strong liquid onto the small ball.

"I'm sorry about him." Harcourt hummed taking the cotton swab to my forehead.

"Hm?" I replied softly.

"Adrian." She looked me in the eyes. "He just isn't all there sometimes." She mumbled. She tossed the bloodied-up swab in the trash and put a bandage over the small cut.

I looked over at Vigilante who I guess was named Adrian. He was talking to Peacemaker and he looked perfectly innocent. Not even an hour earlier he was tossing me into the back of his car. Jesus, what did I really get myself into? Not only does he have to escort me home, but now I have to work with him. He's a psycho!

"She has a point you know." The woman I was pretty sure was Adebayo spoke up. I glanced at her and she nodded trying to make me realize it. "He's a really good guy you just have to get to know him. I get it he basically kidnapped you but he's stupid in everything but fighting."

"Yeah okay," I mumbled softly. I don't care what they say now I can't trust him after what he did unless he really proves he's trustworthy. At least these people actually had the decency to tend to my wounds.

She continued to bandage and take care of every cut I had on my arms and face. I enjoyed her already because she was delicate to me and cared about my feelings. Pretty quickly she finished and put all the materials away.

"Come over here I think we found a box of old clothes you could change in." She led me back into the store and I could feel Adrian's eyes burning into my back.

"Dude she's afraid of me!" I panicked at Chris looking him dead in the eye. I waited for her to leave before I talked to my best friend about the whole thing.

"Well, I mean you did throw her in the back of your car. Chicks don't really dig that. Unless they're like hardcore." Okay yeah obviously I fucked up big time but I was under a lot of pressure and I wasn't doing what I should have!

"Dude I didn't know what else to do." I whined

"I mean you just gotta make things right with her I guess. I don't know I usually don't have to apologize to girls." He shrugged his shoulders. Great okay how am I supposed to do that when she's obviously afraid of me? Fuck. "Listen when you walk her to her apartment just be like 'Sorry for kidnapping you in my shitty car that was a pretty bad thing to do!' or something like that." I let out a heavy sigh. This is never going to work.

I came back out to the main room in a sweatshirt with the video store's logo on it and sweatpants that were longer than my actual legs with the same logo down the side of it. I held my original clothes in my arms and I was quiet.

What do I do now? Go home? How am I supposed to feel safe in my own home when I know that guy is watching me?

"Listen." Harcourt grabbed my attention. "You can take as much time as you need before you go home. I know that was probably a traumatic experience for you so let me know when you want to leave." She spoke as if she had read my mind. I nodded. "Also we have your address so we can get you home easily." Okay well, I told her my name and that was all it took to find out where I lived. Spectacular.

"What are my work hours?" I still can't believe I got myself to work for these people.

"Just don't get here any later than 8. Hours are different every day. Since you now work here I guess I should tell you who everyone is." She pointed to Peacemaker and Vigilante who were still chatting near the corner of the room "Chris and Adrian ." Then to the other man in glasses. "Economos." The guy in the other room that I could see through the glass. "Murn." Finally, she pointed at the last girl which I already knew. "and Adebayo."

I stood around for not too much longer before very anxiously describing to Harcourt my wishes to leave. She understood fully and went over to Adrian to make him take me home. He looked at me with some sort of care in his eyes but I just couldn't look at him so my eyes fell back to the sight of the floor.

"Come on kid." Harcourt motioned with her head to leave out the door with the man. I walked out the door and the cool air hit me as the sun started to sink down below the horizon.

One car ride and then I'm home. This time I got to sit in the front seat of his car instead of being thrown in the back like a doll. I secured my seatbelt and then just slumped against the car door. All I could really do was pay attention to the passing cars outside and the quiet buzz of the radio.

I also noticed the pleasing smell of his cologne that filled the car or how he hummed along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio. Someone like him is a swiftie?

"I'm sorry that I kidnapped you." Adrian broke the silence between us in an attempt to apologize. I ignored it and kept looking out the window. It was a long day and I genuinely couldn't tell if he was being sincere or was just trying to make me feel like he cared. "Please talk to me. I know I fucked up." I glanced over at him; his eyes flickered between the road and me. "Hey." He reached for my hand and flinched away with wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat.

His eyes lit up in sorrow. He looked like he felt bad. He backed off and for the rest of the car ride, he didn't talk anymore. There was so much tension in that car I felt like I was going to suffocate. I could barely look at him. I was still scared of his guts.

Every turn and stop made me think over and over about the events that occurred today. It was nauseating.

Finally walking through the door of my apartment left me with this feeling I couldn't describe. All of the events that happened today were fucking unbelievable.

The book I was planning to read was on my bed and was quickly tossed on my side table with a small thud. I sprawled out on my bed not bothering to do anything else tonight.

What. The. Fuck.

It's my first day on the job and my teammate already hit someone with a car. A van actually. I got to the disguised video store a bit after seven and Murn described the plan to me. Since I wasn't significant to the plan I just stayed in the car with a first-aid kit just in case things went south. And oh they did.

"Is he dead!?" I stood in the van looking at Economos dumbfounded. He didn't reply at first he was just making shocked quivering noises.

"I... I don't know?" My eyes widened as he started to get out of the car holding a crowbar tightly in his hands. I left the kit on the seats (since I had been fidgeting with the latches the whole ride) and followed him for support or something like that. Maybe I thought I could help. He inspected inside the car which he had hit fully force.

Judomaster was crawling on the ground in front of the car slowly. Economos inched closer and closer to him holding the crowbar. He whacked him once over the head and jolted backward then his body went limp. We waited and sure enough, he kept crawling. He hit him again and he still was moving. I slapped a hand over my mouth as he repeatedly hit him on the back of the head. He poked him a few times like you would a bug making sure he wasn't moving.

"Oh my god." He let out. "Fuck yeah!" He turned around to high-five me. I lightly returned it. "Don't worry he's not dead." He said sensing my shock. "They're hardcore it takes a lot."

"Well, what do we do with him now?" I looked at Economos for ideas. We ended up tying him up and throwing him in the back of the van. I watched him intensely. When would this dude wake up? I really hope not any time soon. Murn radioed us and let us know that they would be coming back soon with of course Vigilante. Economos drove us back to the spot we were supposed to be in and awaited their arrival.

"You're pretty cool." I complimented him. He was taken aback by the positive words.

"Well thank you." He adjusted his glasses with a bright smile.

We waited for 15 minutes until they finally arrived and loaded themselves into the van. Everyone looked untouched besides Harcourt's messy hair, a couple cuts on Peacemaker's face and Vigilante crying about his bleeding toe. I grabbed the medical kit I had set down on the seats just minutes before and rushed to Adrian's side.

I motioned for him to move his foot up to where I needed it. He hesitated for a moment but then proceeded to lift his foot into my lap. I scoped out his injured toe and I pulled out the needed materials.

Yikes. I was definitely glad that I stayed in the van. Adrian’s foot jerked in my lap as I tried to get some alcohol.

"Hold still!" I complained to Adrian trying to hold his leg down from wriggling under my grasp. From the looks of it, this man had managed to get half of his pinky toe cut off. That is such a bizarre thing for torture.

“It hurts so bad though!” He wined when I took the alcohol to his foot. He had obviously had worse happen to him but this?

“It could have been worse,” I said. My hold got tighter on his leg since it kept jolting side to side.

“Pft yeah, this was nothing!” He lied as if he hadn’t been complaining two seconds ago. “I’ve gone through worse in DND.” A small smile appeared on my cheeks. DND huh? Who knew the big strong Vigilante was a total nerd? And a swiftie...

“One of my characters got their arm bitten off by a bear so I’d say you’re okay,” I said. His eyes lit up at the mention that I had played before." Just sit still it's about to get worse." His eyes clenched shut.

"Oh shit!" He screamed out making everyone irritated in the van. I shushed him gently with a soft hand on his leg. He shut up very quickly but his body still tensed occasionally with every sting. I held his foot carefully as I bandaged it up thoroughly.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked. I still didn't dare to look him in the eye.

"Yeah, but I can wait until we get back." He tried to act tough but I could hear the pain in his voice. I noticed a couple of holes in his shirt. Maybe I could fix his shirt while I'm at it. God am I being too nice?

I mean I'm trying to think of the bright side of what happened yesterday and honestly, it didn't seem so bad anymore. He saved my ass and I'm having a paying job. I can only imagine the pay is fantastic for what these people have me doing. I sat next to Adrian. I was feeling a little less scared of him now when I thought about him like that. Even through the visor, his eyes were peeled onto me. It felt like since I got here they never left.

Getting back to headquarters I couldn't get Adrian to get out of the van without making a scene. I dragged him quickly into the store so he wouldn't draw any attention from people lurking around In the streets. I pulled him by his hand and made him sit in the closest chair I could spot. He whined and moaned obnoxiously loud. I knew the stories and new articles about the man. He was tough and put up a big fight, he never lost against criminals.

I grabbed the larger bandages from an area Harcourt showed me just this morning and also some more alcohol.

"Show me where you're hurt." I looked at him curious about what else had happened to him. He pulled off his chest plate and revealed the deep stab wound in his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt clearly revealed the bloody mess it left. My eyes widen. "You kept this from me until now?"

"I could handle this. The toe I'm not entirely sure." I cleaned and bandaged the wound with intense concentration. I was careful and sure not to cause any more harm after this long night. "Thank you." He said softly. I just nodded and didn't reply with anything else.

The days passed as we worked on this project and the days were long and there was a lot of work to do. I didn't have almost any free time anymore so it was hard to make time for friends I actually wanted to talk to or things I really wanted to do. Adrian continued to try his hardest to earn my trust and befriend me.

I started to warm up to him crazy enough. He did little things for me I thought were sweet. Sometimes he brought me breakfast or he would try to learn about things I liked so he could talk about them with me. I started to trust him more and more as the mission proceeded because he was really good company. He would talk and I would listen.

A couple of days after the whole 'Adrian getting his pinky toe almost cut off' situation he got himself arrested. I didn't even know until Harcourt talked to me about it and what Adebayo said to him. I felt bad for him because as much as I thought I disliked him, I hated to hear he was where he was and how Adebayo literally manipulated him into doing it.

The night he got out he showed up at my apartment because he still needed to check up on me and since he hadn't been able to. For the first time, I felt comfortable enough to hug him. So I did, I wrapped my arms gently around his torso and gave a small squeeze. We stood like that for a minute before he quietly wished me a 'goodnight' without any further words. That was the kindest moment we had ever shared with one another

Then the next day we had another mission. Since all this time has passed, I had been informed on what a Butterfly fully was. At first, it was entirely confusing until I realized these were tiny alien butterflies here to kill us. I know it sounds like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

I had to sit through a whole meeting in the morning next to Adrian where he (the whole time) joked with me. It felt sorta nice honestly. He never stopped being friendly and I just kind of started to accept it more.

And the whole mission went by quickly.

"Oh my god." I blurted when everyone arrived back in the truck. Peacemaker and Economos were fully drenched head to toe in blood, Harcourt had a good amount on her, and Adebayo and Adrian had little to none on them.

"We fought a fucking gorilla!" Adebayo exploded with astonishment. Jesus, sometimes I wish I didn't sit in the car the whole time.

"Economos is the fucking man." Peacemaker clapped him on the back with a proud grin. I did miss a lot if those two are now getting along.

"All the blood is the gorillas right?" I asked startled for a second considering the amount.

"Yeah we're all fine," Harcourt said tiredly.

"At least no one's arm got bitten off, like your DND character right?" Adrian nudged me in the side and sat down next to me. Sure I had only told him a few days ago about that but it still made me happy that he had remembered that tiny detail.

"Right." I smiled. Chris sat in the front and started playing music like he had at the beginning of the ride. I sang along with the rest of my team members to 11th Street Kids and I actually started to enjoy my work a little more.

I looked over at Adrian who was dancing like a dork. He looked so adorable? He was playing air drums and making up random dances as he went. I don't know why but I started to not hate him anymore. I started seeing this more personal side of him. Not Vigilante but Adrian.

"C'mon dance," Adrian whispered in my ear and nudged me again. I started to sway along with the group.

Later that night Harcourt made a group chat with all of us and sent a photo she had taken in the van. I set the book down I had finally got to reading beside me on my bed and picked up my phone.

Everyone was dancing in the van but on the right side, you could see me looking at Adrian with the sweetest smile on my face. The chat is filled with different emojis. The only number I had was Harcourts but from the merman emoji, I already knew it was Adrian. I liked his message and sent a fitting emoji to match the others.

I set my phone down and continued reading with a big smile. I never seemed to stop today.

It was the final day of the project and I wasn’t allowed to go. I wasn’t entirely complaining since this job was so bizarre but I was also disappointed. I mean all this build up and I don’t even get to go. They said it would be safer for me and of course, I understood.

But as the night carried on and the morning came through I was nervous. I had no texts or word from anyone. Sure, they still could be busy and have to do some other stuff before texting me but what if?

I heard a rushed-sounding knock on my door which threw me off. I ran to my door since the person decided to not stop knocking.

"What do you want?" I hissed as I threw open the door but I was only met with Adrian. My eyes soften upon seeing him. Oh, thank god he’s alive. "Adrian. Hi." I paused when noticing he was in a pair of shorts and a nursing gown. "Come inside." I ushered him in with wide eyes and closed the door quickly behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Listen I jumped out of a hospital building to be her so-"

"Adrian!" I scolded him for being careless. I had started to really enjoy him I didn't need him being so careless all the time.

"Shut up. Sorry, but I need to tell you this." I stared at him silently with folded arms awaiting what he was about to tell me. "Okay, so after almost dying, I know what you're about to say please just wait. After almost dying, I realized had more feelings for you than I have ever had for someone and that's like a lot for me." He stepped closer to me. "I had to tell you those feelings just in case I actually died sometime. But now I'm scared if you reject me because of the whole kidnapping thing when we first met and usually I would be okay with rejection but I don't feel usual with you." He rambled and his hands made several confusing gestures along the way.

Everything about him told me he was being truthful. His hands were trembling with nervousness, He literally came from a hospital to tell me this and he just had that look on his face.

The feelings from the other day came rushing back. I really enjoyed being with genuine Adrian. The time we spent together over the course of this project was enjoyable. I noticed small things about him like the way he always made sure to keep an eye on me and was careful not to get me into anything super dangerous. He had become almost like a personal guard.

He even taught me how to use weapons, and also never overstepped my boundaries. So yeah maybe I developed a crush on my kidnapper co-worker.

"Why are you looking at me like that I'm like really nervous right now." He asked.

"Because I feel the same way. Even though you did totally kidnap and traumatize me." I nudged him smiling but he didn't return it. "Adrian I was playing with you. But I really do feel the same way." He let out a long breath. I was quite sure he had stopped breathing for a little while.

"Oh thank god." Adrian stepped closer and picked me up in his arms as he kissed me deeply. I've kissed a couple of times in the past but never did it feel as amazing as this. I held him close to me as if he would slip away again. He pulled away to look closely at my face.

"Just because you kissed me doesn't mean I won't scold you for almost dying." I glared at him but he just smiled kindly and kissed me again.

"If I keep. Kissing you then. I won't. Get yelled at." He said in between kisses making me start to laugh.

“Don’t scare me like that again Chase.” I shook my head kissing him passionately once more. I could get used to this feeling.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x y/n #adrian chase fanfic #vigilante #vigilante x you #freddie stroma #freddie stroma x reader #in such a vigilante brain rot again please help #adrian chase x reader #soft angst #fluff

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soulmate-game · 10 months

Text

Work burned me out, middle management positions are draining. What was supposed to be an angsty oneshot is now… yeah I’m continuing it. Not a full series, just a two-parter… hopefully.

Edit: I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THIS CLUSTERFUCK OF AN EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER IS, but BUCKLE IN BECAUSE IT PROBABLY DOESN’T PASS SAFETY REGULATIONS! HOOOOO BOY

Part 1

—*—*—*—*—*

“…” she stared at the being in front of her, face frighteningly blank. Next to her, Bruce fidgeted.

“I’m not going anywhere, so you either gotta learn to love me real quick or get lost quicker,” the child snarked from where he was sitting upside-down on the bat computer chair. “And don’t call me Richard, my name’s Dick.”

“I don’t remember you working with a fetus, Batman,” Marinette slowly drawled, emphasizing the vigilante’s name despite none of the three of them being suited up. Dick shot up with a cry of indignation.

“I am not a fetus! I’m fifteen! I’ve been Robin since I was twelve!”

“Nope,” Marinette countered, unmoved. “I started out as Ladybug when I was twelve, and I was never as small as you,” she blatantly lied. Dick was already taller than her, which wasn’t much of an achievement considering that she was five-foot-one-inch tall. “You are six years old, tops.”

Dick let out an almost inhuman screech of complaint. Even as he rambled on angrily about how wrong she was, Marinette only nodded as if he proved her right about something.

“That was a good squawk though. Definitely a birdie.”

It took another twenty minutes before Dick ran off to tell on Marinette to Alfred, giving her and Bruce some alone time. With which she used to whirl to him and immediately hiss in equal parts fury and worry;

“Please tell me he wasn’t—“

“The timeline is gone,” Bruce reminded her, bracing her by putting both his hands on her shoulders. “He doesn’t remember.”

“Still!”

He let out such a heavy sigh that he seemed to deflate with it, his dark circles growing more pronounced.

“He wasn’t supposed to be,” he admitted softly. “When he turned sixteen, last time, I allowed him to form his own team of teen heroes. Supervised from afar by myself of course, not that they knew that. I had given them the order to stay back and guard their city, but they disobeyed me and snuck onto the battlefield anyway.”

Marinette rubbed at her temples, nodding. “Teenagers have a habit of doing that. This time around, can we ask Bunnyx to supervise them? She has all the energy of a teenager, so she’ll fit in, but the maturity of someone trusted to guard all the timelines.”

Bruce paused, thinking of what little he knew of the pastel rabbit themed hero, and then reluctantly nodded. “That… might be for the best. And giving them more opportunities to train with…” he hummed, hand on his chin. “I might actually change things up, in that case. Instead of jumping to put teens on their own in a tower, the old Justice League headquarters is more protected. And if we started with the ‘sidekicks’,” he gave very purposeful air quotes, “of other Leaguers, it would create a better support system than letting teenagers run around with… really, not enough regulation.”

“Gotta love hindsight,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “The whole teenagers by themselves thing only worked for my team because we were overly traumatized and each saw different apocalypses before we turned sixteen. Bunnyx could fix them herself back then, but still.”

“Best to do better by the new generation,” Bruce agreed with her unspoken statement. “I can still put that old team together again when they’re older, support their development elsewhere in the meantime.”

“Oh, and now that we’re done on that topic,” Marinette snapped her fingers before pointing to the staircase that Dick had disappeared up. “He’s going to make my life a living hell, isn’t he?”

Bruce groaned, offering her a lopsided grimace of apology. “He’s a menace,” he agreed. “He’s scared away any woman I’ve brought to the house, even though most of them are completely platonic. I have to make the press believe the whole playboy thing somehow, and inviting my friends over to chat is the easiest way to do so without breaking hearts for real. Dick hasn’t caught on yet,” Bruce rubbed his forehead. “His antics to scare away Selina Kyle are legendary already, and she’s sapphic. She couldn’t be attracted to me if I was the last man on earth.”

“Could have fooled me,” Marinette teased, suddenly impish. “She’s catwoman, isn’t she?”

Bruce narrowed his eyes, saying only: “Chat Noir. Year one.”

It was Marinette’s turn to grimace. “Point taken. But in my defense, he took way too long to realize he’s gay and watched too much anime at the time.”

Bruce let out one of his unfairly charming chuckles, changing position so that his arm was around her shoulders and pulling her to his side. She fit there surprisingly well, for someone almost half his size. She leaned into him, and the both just soaked in the comfort of one another for a long moment.

“You know,” Bruce started for a while. “If you want to stay in Gotham, we can make you another alter ego so that you don’t accidentally lure Shadow Moth here. Tell that fox of yours to make it seem like you’re in Paris and take some of the weight off of your shoulders for a change. Blackmail Constantine into charming some jars to keep the butterflies in until you can purify them.”

“Hmmm.” She closed her eyes. “Ladybird sounds nice. Fits with the bird thing that Robin has going for him.”

Bruce laughed. “That’ll really annoy him,” he warned, amused. Marinette’s close-eyed smile was pure mischief.

“That’s the whole point. I’m not letting a fetus win against me, bat-boy.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette wasn’t speaking to Bunnyx. Bruce didn’t know what they had said to one another, but he could guess it had to do with Jason.

With his baby, who he just buried. The boy Marinette had thought of a son ever since he first brought him home. She had even smoothed things over between Dick and Jason, which he had considered nothing short of a miracle at the time.

But that miracle was nowhere to be seen now, with Marinette every bit as despondent next to him as he was. He wanted to be angry with her, he did, but he couldn’t. He had seen her blow up at Bunnyx, seen her try to hold her status as Grand Guardian over the bunny holder.

Bunnyx had simply said that she wouldn’t answer to Ladybug until after the grief passed then, and ran away into her burrow.

“Is this the payment?” He heard her whisper, her voice hoarse and broken. “For the do-over? We passed the old timeline. We took down Shadow Moth. Is this the price?” Tears dripped down her face silently, she didn’t seem to notice them. “Was I not a good enough mother? Should I—“ she stopped herself, shaking her head. He didn’t ask what she was about to say. Maybe he should have.

—*—*—*—*—*

Tim was great. He was too much like Marinette at times, which made Bruce’s chest ache, but he was a great Robin. A great son. His experience with Marinette proved priceless when it came to helping curb Tim’s overworking habits and caffeine addiction.

But not even Tim could find where Marinette had disappeared to, even with his detective skills surpassing Bruce’s already.

Tim was the first son of his that didn’t get to grow up with Marinette at all.

—*—*—*—*—*

“It’s fine, Baobei,” she whispered, stepping to the side. Behind her was the waterfall that hid the tunnel to the Batcave. “He’s not the one to blame. He did his best, even now he’s doing his best.”

“Then why does—“

“Because other people need him, and he has too big of a heart to turn them away,” her mouth tilted a little, smile lopsided and sad. “Timothy didn’t replace you. He just forced Bruce to live again. Bruce didn’t kill Joker, because he didn’t want to taint another child with the sight of murder.”

“And you?” The voice was dark, deadly, gruff. Older, and yet… so achingly familiar. She smiled at him again, soft and sad and… proud.

“I don’t have one,” she lied. She had tried, tried so hard. Bruce had gotten in her way first, and then the very same desire to not taint more children with the image of death.

But her baby needed a scapegoat, and she was willing to throw herself on the fire for him.

“That’s why it’s fine,” she repeated. “If this is what you want. Just, please. Let it end with me.”

This time, Marinette made sure she had the Time miraculous safely in her pocket. Nobody would interfere with this.

The bullet sent her into the flow of the waterfall, red flowing behind her like the carpet she used to walk down with Bruce whenever she released a new collection. She felt no regret as she closed her eyes and fell.

—*—*—*—*—*

The shot hadn’t been fatal. Red Hood might have been mad with Pit Rage, but his fondness for his only true mother figure was ever present. He simply wanted to see if she was serious about taking that shot.

His regret was immediate when she didn’t even try to dodge. The bullet had only grazed her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to notice that. She had been so ready to die— to let him kill her— that she had passed out before hitting the water. He dragged her to the Batcave, knowing he had a lot to answer for.

Bruce wished he could have found her sooner, found both of them sooner. But at least they were back.

—*—*—*—*—*

“… I mean,” she rocked on her heels. “You are growing a bit old for Robin…”

Tim glared at her, not appreciating the insight.

“Bruce is stuck in the timestream, and you aren’t doing a thing about it. I don’t hold your opinion very highly right now,” he snipped back. She snorted, glancing away.

As if that little stunt to “kill Batman” could ever fool her. She’d been there for the real thing, thanks, she could spot a fake a mile away. “He’s got Bunnyx going to find him. She owes me big time, let her do the heavy lifting for a change.”

“How many years have you held that grudge?” Barbara asked, eyebrows raised as she wheeled herself towards the bat computer. “Even Jason thinks you should have let it go by now.”

Marinette scoffed at the exact same time as a certain someone tutted next to her, making them look for a moment like a perfect pair.

Crossed arms, a scoff, annoyed glare? If a DNA test hadn’t already proven otherwise, they might have thought Damian was hers.

“Fetuses don’t get to judge me,” was her only argument before she turned on her heel and walked away.

“I am not a fetus! Lady Marinette, I am ten years old!”

—*—*—*—*—*

Bonus:

Jason was curled up around Marinette, despite being told numerous times not to crowd her on the med-bay bed. He argued that he shot her, so he gets to nurse her back to health.

Did she use her blood, tainted by years of use of the Ladybug, to purify his pit madness? Yes. Had he figured that out yet? Nope.

“Love you, Mom,” he murmured in his sleep. Marinette, who had been awake for about an hour already, smiled to herself.

“Love you, Baobei.”

#maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette #platonic timari #platonic dickinette #brucinette #idk what this is #enjoy anyway

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gnarledbite · 4 months

Note

It seemed that lately Rorschach was making more friends with his enemies than destroying them. Though there wasn't too much time to reconsider where he'd been led astray as he bounded alongside the vampiric hitman. Ducking and dodging bullets by mere luck as they leap over roofs, raced down fire escapes, jumped again over some dumpsters and a fence, then dashed down the alleyway onto the backstreet.

That was where Rorschach stopped in his tacks as Garrett hopped onto his motorcycle, starting up the engine hastily. Rorschach eyed the bike under his mask. He had never ridden one and knew he'd have to keep close with someone he was not at all comfortable with. He immediately began talking of a meet point, although it was quickly interrupted by Garrett pointing out a quite obvious fact: There was no time.

As if on cue, a black SUV's tires screech as it drifted around a sharp corner before accelerating towards them. Knowing how foolish it would be to die now because Rorschach simply did not want to hold onto another man's waist, the mask vigilante gave in.

Quickly swinging his leg over Rorschach grabbed onto the front of Garrett's shoulders. Bracing himself for the lurch forward as Garrett shifted into gear and sped away from the gang's SUV.

The thud of running footsteps changed rhythm from shoes on concrete to the ceramic clatter of old roofing tiles and back again as they made their escape, both of them dodging the shots thrown their way by some miracle considering the number of people after them.

… well, some sneaky Discipline work made the vampire a bit harder to hit than his “companion”, but Garrett wouldn't just leave him behind if he DID get shot. … probably.

Fortunately that never came to pass, and Garrett controlled his descent with claws in the brickwork before landing next to his bike. He hopped on and got it started, then noticed Rorschach's hesitation. Was it because he'd never ridden a bike before? It didn't matter to Garrett, and he rolled his eyes at the other man's sudden talk of meeting up somewhere else.

“We don't have time for this. Get on!”

As if to drive his point home, a black SUV came screaming around the corner, and the vampire made a VERY pointed gesture towards it. Fortunately that seemed to kick the other man into gear, and he hopped onto the motorcycle and grabbed Garrett's shoulders. There was hardly any time to make sure he was settled: they had to go, and the bike took off a split second later, screeching around the corner and into the flow of traffic.

The SUV followed, of course, but Garrett had a couple tricks up his sleeve. He veered around the next corner and gunned it, letting the chill of Obfuscate fall over himself, his passenger, and the bike. He let up on the throttle, drifting a bit and hanging back to match speed with the SUV as it slowed down to look for their quarry. No one in that vehicle would see that their targets were right next to them, and Garrett slowed further so that they were the ones following the SUV.

“Shall we see where they head back to? Or is there somewhere I can drop you off? You're looking a bit tense back there.”

#Answered #therorschachmask #// this took so long i'm sorry :'))))))

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the-hidden-pages · 1 year

Text

I posted 157 times in 2022

That's 104 more posts than 2021!

51 posts created (32%)

106 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@nbraraeaves

@gaybybirth

@myguiltypleasures21

@itsmissnancy

I tagged 30 of my posts in 2022

#adrian chase - 11 posts

#vigilante - 9 posts

#vigilante x reader - 8 posts

#x reader - 8 posts

#adrian chase x reader - 8 posts

#vigilante smut - 6 posts

#adrian chase smut - 6 posts

#vigilante peacemaker - 6 posts

#x reader smut - 5 posts

#tppkinktober2022 - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#conceptually riddlers always been my favourite i just never cared much for the batman universe as a whole until that show

My Top Posts in 2022:

Emerald Eyes and a Blood-Stained Ring: Adrian Chase/Vigilante X Reader

Note: One of my first non-smuts in a while. I just have severe Adrian Chase brainrot and wanted to write something fluffy.

This hasn’t been proofread. I just have a lot of feelings and needed to post this.

Synopsis: Adrian proposes in his own bloody way.

Warnings: None, beyond Adrian being Adrian, and mentions of blood.

You had never really figured out if your relationship could be called strange, or perfect.

Maybe it had always been a strange combination of both.

At the start, you didn’t even know who Adrian Chase was. Back then, he was only Vigilante. You were just yourself, going about your business, when you stumbled across the masked man bleeding heavily in an alleyway.

In a stroke of insanity, or perhaps guided by fate, you brought the unknown killer into your home and patched him up. That one incident set off a domino effect, creating an endless cycle that often had this wanted criminal bleeding out in your kitchen.

Somehow, you never seemed to mind.

It took two years of this masked man being in your life before you finally got to see his face.

That said, you fell in love with him after only one.

Vigilante had been your protector long before Adrian Chase became your lover. If you thought you couldn’t fall harder for the bloodthirsty man that was a complete nerd and goofball, you were proven utterly wrong the moment green eyes met yours.

He had always been perfect to you. Vigilante, consistently showing up with new scars and wounds, swearing that he would never remove his mask to protect you from knowing his secret identity, dropping everything in a heartbeat if he thought you were in trouble. Adrian Chase, talking a mile a minute, gushing about any topic he loved, enthusiastic about anything in your life, barely making ends meet with a low-wage job yet still greeting every day with a grin.

You loved him to death.

And you knew he loved you too.

Despite countless people accusing him of not understanding emotions, he himself was an open book. When he was hurt, he would whine. When he was tired, he passed out. When he was bored, he’d make it very well known. So, the moment he felt love for you, pure and true love, you knew immediately.

It was shown every day when he protected you so viciously. It was clear in his eyes every minute he looked at you, sappy grin on his face. It was apparent in every hand-picked gift and every gesture.

And that was that.

He was yours and you were his.

It went on that way for another year.

You couldn’t say it was all sunshine and rainbows. There were moments, of course, where Adrian would find your emotions hard to read, and react inappropriately. There were days where he would come home, beyond bloody and bruised from his night job, and you’d lose your cool, upset by the harm that had come to him.

But you two had always walked it off, always stuck it out.

And so, nothing struck you as odd the night he once again stumbled into your shared apartment, Vigilante suit torn to shreds, mask off in his hands as he gasped for air, bracing himself on the wall.

“Hi honey,” the green-eyed man grunted out, grin on his face despite the clear pain in his eyes. “I’m home.”

“And what sort of time do you call this?” you play along, gently guiding him to the kitchen in your normal routine.

“Work kept me late,” he huffed, thumping down in one of two wooden chairs. A gloved and bloodied hand reached up to cup your cheek, and he pulled you forward into a chaste kiss. You only give in for a moment, before backing away.

“Where’d you get got?”

Adrian speaks through his pout. “Knife slashed my side, that’s all.”

“That’s all, he says,” you mutter, walking to the counter to grab a damp cloth and some gauze. “Armor off, please, and spare me the jokes about me wanting you naked.”

See the full post

365 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

Throw Me Instead - Earth-2 Harrison Wells x Fem!Reader SMUT

Oops here comes another one, I have a thing for the Earth-2 DILF who would’ve guessed? Happy 2022 all, and sorry if you’re waiting on an Arcane fic, this one was sitting half-finished in my drafts since early November.

Word Count: 3000+

Synopsis: It wasn’t uncommon for you to tease. It wasn’t uncommon for Harry to rage. One day, however, the combination of your two personalities clashed.

Warnings: NSFW, Lab Sex, Wall Sex, Desk Sex, Light Exhibitionism, Angry Sex, Possessiveness, Choking, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Use of Sir/Princess

It wasn’t uncommon for you to tease. In fact, if you weren’t throwing flirtatious or sexual remarks at the team, they’d often wonder if something was wrong.

Harry took note of your antics rather quickly.

The first time he noticed it, you had hit Cisco with the line “Your hair looks great today! You mind if I pull it?” The younger man had laughed off the proposition, instead gushing with you for a few moments about the ridiculously perfect hair day he was having. Harry had wondered if you two were a couple, or perhaps dancing around the matter, before brushing it off.

The next time, it was a comment towards Caitlin, promptly after you had been injured in a meta fight. You had asked her if she was going to enjoy playing doctor with you, right before you passed out due to pain.

Next it was Iris, who had walked into the Cortex in a stunning dress and heels. She had asked you if she could borrow a necklace from you, to which you had informed her that she could do anything to you, wearing that dress.

Nearly every time a remark came out of your mouth, no one commented or looked remotely upset. Most had accepted that your flirting was how you showed your friends love and took it as such.

Nearly every time.

The first day you flirted with Harry, quite some time after he had joined the team, you were delivering an order of Big Belly Burger to the certified genius. Bag in hand and precariously balancing two milkshakes in the other, you drop most of it in front of the man.

Sipping from your shake, you look the man up and down as he continues to work, not acknowledging your existence. The moment allows you to fully take him in, appreciating the way he filled out his black t-shirt and pants, the messy hair that had clearly not been combed in some time. Then you notice something new, something he wasn’t wearing when he arrived.

“Damn, Hare,” you grin, straw between your teeth as you caught his attention. “You should keep those on. Glasses add a whole new layer of sex appeal to ya.”

You whirl around, not bothering to stay as Harry fumbles with the tool he’s holding.

After the first encounter, you had begun to flirt with him more. Harry couldn’t tell if you were doing so more with him than the others – after all, he didn’t make it a habit to “hang around” the others, as they so put it – but he could determine one thing.

He hated it.

He hated that you were flirting.

He hated that you were flirting with him the same way you did with everyone else.

Everything about you just…infuriated him.

The ease of which you communicated. How everyone seemed to like you. How you could give affection to everyone in a heartbeat. How effectively you seemed to get through to him.

You were a distraction, he told himself.

A kind, sweet, infectious distraction.

A distraction with more kindness than he had any right to, with more patience than he could ask for.

A distraction with a ridiculously beautiful smile, stunning eyes.

And your ass -

Harry shook his head at that. He couldn’t afford to be thinking like that, not with Zoom still on the loose.

You’re a distraction.

That’s all there was to it.

See the full post

379 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

Kinktober Day 1 - Dirty Talk - Tangerine x Fem!Reader

Disclaimers: I’ve never done a Kinktober. These pieces are rushed. As a result they may be poorly written and OOC. Apologies in advance.

Summary: On a job, through an earpiece, Tangerine learns how easily influenced you are by his words.

Warnings: NSFW, Dirty Talk, no actual smut though.

There was the odd job that The Twins would be assigned that they couldn’t do alone.

Specifically, any infiltration that required a woman’s touch, or a job that required 3 parties. Not to mention, the odd time where one of the twins were ill or recovering from a wound.

The Twins may be some of the bests in the business, but even they had to outsource sometimes, all for the sake of a job well done.

So, on those rare occasions, The Twins would outsource to you.

The third fruit, Lemon would excitedly say.

You were quite endeared to The Twins – a fact that was rather dangerous, given your respective lines of work. But the moment you met the pair, your heart warmed as you listened to Lemon excitedly talk over his brother.

“I’m not quite sure who you are yet – could be a Daisy, sweet and reliable that one…”

“Lemon.”

“Or an Annie, can’t forget about her.”

“Lemon.”

“Mind, there’s no reason you couldn’t be a male train – sexist of me, I’m sorry bruv –“

“Lemon!” Tangerine snapped, whacking his arm.

“Oi! What, mate?”

“Much as I’d love to go on about which fuckin’ Thomas the Train she is, we have precious little time before she needs to make a move. So –“

“It’s Thomas the Tank Engine,” you interject.

Tangerine paused for a moment before turning to you, eyes widened ever-so-slightly.

“What?”

“It’s not Thomas the Train, it’s Thomas the Tank.”

Lemon laughed excitedly as Tangerine attempted to collect himself.

“It doesn’t bloody matter, does it? Now, did you read the briefing I sent ya?”

“Oh, was I supposed to? I thought you’d just explain on the way.”

A heavy silence hung over the group.

“We should call her Lime.”

“Lemon!”

Despite the annoyance that radiated off of Tangerine in that moment, a strange partnership had formed. You and Lemon got along swimmingly, and you thrived on getting under Tangerine’s skin.

A completely healthy office relationship, you would chuckle to yourself.

See the full post

645 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

Peeping Tom: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Fem!Reader SMUT

I’ve seen a couple of fics now touching on Adrian being a bit of a voyeur. I’d like to first agree with you all, but raise you that the Reader is also a complete exhibitionist. Again, a bit darker then I’m used to writing for, but it seems this dork is bringing out a lot of my hidden interests.

I’d also like to apologize for any errors that may exist, this fic was primarily written with wine in my system, likely explaining how horny it it. Very much self-indulgent, not at all a real-world scenario, just pure filth that smut fics are meant to be.

Enjoy 4.9k+ words of my mind being horny for this moron.

Synopsis: After meeting a customer in Fennel Fields, Adrian follows her home, struck by her obvious perfection. Obsessed, he continues to stalk her as Vigilante. Until one night, the tables turn, and he receives a little more than he bargains for.

Warnings: NSFW. Unprotected Sex. Clear Obsession. Bondage. Stalker!Adrian. Voyeurism. In a turn of events, Exhibitionist Reader! Consensual Non-Consent (Adrian definitely non-consensually watching her, but Reader doesn’t end up minding and sort of knows, so, use your better judgment there). Adrian being Adrian.

It started innocent; Adrian swears it to this day. An innocent crush, that’s all it was. He had been working another dull shift at Fennel Fields, mind in a haze of daydreams, old D&D plots he had never fully worked out back in his prime of playing, and work that had to be done that night as Vigilante. There was also music playing in the back of his mind. Crab Rave. He hadn’t been able to shake it all day. Then you had walked in, and it was like the record player that was his mind came to a screeching halt.

You were perfect.

Everything about you. Your eyes drew him right in when they met his. Your hair looked soft, touchable. Your skin, funnily enough, also looked touchable. Your neck looked markable. Your lips looked kissable. You sat at a booth alone, and he worried for a moment that someone would be joining you. A date, a partner. But then you pulled out your laptop and his heart sung – you were there to work. You’d be staying. He noticed the stickers on your computer – icons from classic video games, an N64 controller, a D20, a Pokémon (was it your favourite, he wondered?), a skull.

You were perfect.

His thoughts were of you his entire shift. He snuck a glance as often as he could when his coworkers weren’t looking, when he was certain you were focused on your computer. Adrian wondered what you were doing, your fingers typing so quickly, your eyes never leaving the screen even as you shovelled forkfuls of food into your mouth. It couldn’t be something illegal, could it? Planning a drug exchange, stealing personal data, plotting a heist? No, you couldn’t do that. You were perfect. But he had to check.

Luckily, he had the excuse. On one of his rounds, he stopped at your table, gesturing to your now empty plate. “Can I clear this for you?” You looked up quickly, eyes filled with surprise for a moment, before filling with kindness. Adrian wondered what those eyes would look like full of gratitude, of love, of lust. Pleading, begging, crying, rolled to the back of your head – “I’d appreciate that, thank you,” you sigh, flopping back in the booth with your arm coming up to rest along the back of it. Adrian reached for the plate, wondering what your arm would feel like holding him, wrapped around him in ecstasy. How would they look, tied above your head? “You know much about writing there…ah…?” You were looking at him expectantly, waiting for something. Maybe his name? “Adrian?” “Adrian,” you repeat it back warmly. He repressed a shudder. Your lips formed around his name so nicely. How would it sound whispered lovingly, screaming in pleasurable agony – “You know much about writing, Adrian?” He shrugged, shifting the weight of the basket of dirty dishes he was carrying slightly. “Not much officially. I mean, I watch movies, everyone watches movies. Played a lot of D&D back in the day, but it wasn’t exactly a writing career.” You smile fondly. Adrian wants to see that smile forever. “I used to play a lot too. Haven’t had the time much these days. Campaigns used to really get the creative juices flowing…but now…” you gesture to your screen. “The one minute I get to write anything for myself, and I’m stuck with three shitty lines. It’s just not coming, y’know?” All I know is I’d like to see you cumming, preferably on my cock. Adrian didn’t notice that he hadn’t responded until you gave a small, shy laugh, and shook your head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t keep you from your job. You’re not paid to hear my writer’s block.” “I don’t mind,” Adrian supplied quickly, eyes wide. You wanted to stop talking to him. “I just, ah, don’t really have good advice. Maybe, watch some stupid movies? It’ll give your head a break and give you an excuse to write stupid shit. Not that I think your shit is stupid! I’m sure it’s very smart shit. But sometimes what stops us from taking a shit is the fear that our shit will be stupid. So just shitting at all is half the battle!” He ended cheerfully. You were looking at him curiously, and for a moment he wondered if he had royally fucked up. But then a wide smile split across your face, and a giggle escaped you. “Adrian, was it? I think you’ve just inspired something, Adrian. Thank you.” Your hands posed over your keyboard then, and Adrian nodded, grinning. He spun around and resisted the urge to skip away. He inspired you. The sexy, nerdy girl in the restaurant was inspired by him. He hummed an aimless tune for the rest of his shift. You really were perfect.

This really started innocent, but you were just so perfect he couldn’t let you slip away. You had stuck around for the duration of his shift. By the time the restaurant closed, he was able to clock out. It wasn’t like he had planned to follow you home, Adrian rationalized as he crept behind you, a block or so between you, just out of sight. He didn’t plan it at all. But you two left at the same time, and you were walking alone at night! As Vigilante, he had to protect you. It was his job! That night, he found your house. It was completely innocent as he burned the address into his mind. Completely innocent as he noticed that you evidently lived alone. Completely innocent when he noticed that you kept a spare key inside a potted plant hanging outside the door. He would’ve left it at that, he really would have. Turned around and left your perfect self to the realm of his fantasies.

But on his return home, curiosity had him exploring the perimeter of your home. You had a backyard, he noticed. A small enclosure, contained within a fence (a fence easily scaled by him, but of course not by others). He peeked around, noticing the beginnings of a small garden (were you new to town?) and an old tree standing tall and proud. The backyard looked in on a couple of glass doors, leading into what he guessed was the kitchen. You even had a small hot tub, and Adrian grinned. He was impressed at what you could afford. You were smart. You could look after yourself. Of course you could, you were perfect.

When Adrian eventually left, he swore that he wouldn’t go back. The resolve lasted for roughly 3 days. 3 days of his mind being consumed by this beautiful stranger. Fantasies of tying you down and tormenting you as Vigilante. Fantasies of you taking care of him as Adrian. He wanted to know everything about you. So really, what was the harm in going back? He wouldn’t hurt you, he rationalized. He only wanted to watch, to learn. He climbed carefully, he had to. You couldn’t know he was there. But when he reached high enough, he could’ve fallen right out.

The tree overlooked your room. Your curtains were open – hell, they had every reason to be. No one should be in the tree enclosed within your garden, and that was really the only way anyone could ever see in. The opened curtains and soft reading lamp, however, gave Adrian clear view into your bedroom. Absentmindedly, Adrian vowed that he would kill anyone else who dared to climb this tree with his bare hands. There was plenty for him to notice about your personal space. Books scattered about, a dresser half-open and overflowing with clothes, some tapestries on the walls. But his eyes were fixed on key details, pivotal details, important details. There was a large bed in the centre of your room. Queen sized, maybe King. He could only imagine how nice it would be to fuck you on it, to hold you afterwards, to wake up in it. But there, on the plush, dark sheets, was you. Stripped down to nothing but a black lace bra and panty set. Adrian could have died then, happily. You were sipping on a glass of wine, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Adrian’s mind couldn’t help but wander as he noticed the red stain of wine on your lips. How would that red look elsewhere? Wine dripping between your cleavage, staining as it goes. A red that looked so much like blood. He could see himself approaching you after a tough mission, covered in blood of those he had killed. You wouldn’t flinch away, you’d just approach him, hold him, tear the mask off his face and kiss him. You’d pull away, that blood red coating parts of you now. Unfazed, you’d pull him to your bed. He breathed sharply as the brief scene ended in his mind. He shifted his weight, only to realize the growing discomfort between his legs.

Fuck, he was already hard.

He was going to leave, he really was. The image of you lying there was already more than enough fuel for the fire. He was ready to leave, to jerk one out when he got home, to use the thoughts to keep him going for another week or so, before another visit to your home.

But then…

Then…

A droplet of wine escaped from the glass, landing on your upper left breast, before trailing down between your cleavage. Adrian froze. He couldn’t hear you, but he could see the annoyed sigh in your movements as you set the glass and your phone aside. Carelessly, mindlessly, you dip your finger between your boobs and trace the line of red, scooping the stray wine up and sucking it off your finger. All Adrian can do is look in awe as you wrap your wine-stained lips around that finger, lingering there for a little too long. His hand finds its way to the front of his pants, attempting to relieve some pressure as he observes. You’re so sexy. You’re perfect. You’re made for him, it’s like you could read his mind – You seem to sigh again, only this time, you reach your hand behind you and unclasp your bra, removing and tossing the garment to the side of the room. The last small, rational part of Adrian’s brain wonders if you had gotten wine on the fabric. But the rest of him is screaming that this is a show made just for him.

And you’re so perfect, so wonderful, because you prove him right.

Your hands come up, first to touch where the wine had touched you, but soon choosing to wander, gently cupping each breast, squeezing, and kneading. You lean back on the bed, thighs clenched as you work, and Adrian notices how they tighten and how your hips start to twitch upward slightly as you begin toying with your nipples. “Oh, fuck,” Adrian groans quietly, immediately going to lower his pants, hand wrapping around his throbbing cock. Your mouth seems to part in a moan, and the man curses that he can’t hear the sound. He freezes briefly when your eyes wander right past the tree where he’s hiding, over to just beside the window. You seem to be staring, and by the way your legs spread, and your hand moves to rub over the lace, you seem to be getting more worked up. Adrian wonders what’s there. There’s no light to indicate a TV or porn. Maybe a poster? Or maybe it was a mirror. That had to be it, he decided, as you shifted in what seemed to be a method of posing yourself. You had to be watching yourself. He could’ve laughed. You were perfect. You liked being watched. He wondered if you’d like to know you were putting on such a good show for him. You shifted once again, now moving too slowly, teasingly pull the black lace down your legs. Rolling over, you reached for the drawer beside your bed. Adrian pulled his eyes away from the glimpse of your wet folds to focus on what you were pulling out. There, from your drawer, was a large purple vibrator. His hand worked faster as his imagination conjured up ideas of what else could be hidden in that drawer. Vibrators, dildos. Maybe you had handcuffs, a blindfold. A whip? A knife?

Fuck, how perfect could you be?

He watched intently as you moved the toy slowly, not to your cunt, but to your mouth. He could’ve drooled as your perfect lips spread, purple silicone sliding between them as you began to suck, coating the toy with spit. Adrian’s hand slowed, and he whimpered, matching your pace as you slowly fucked your own mouth with the toy. Soon, you moved it again, and he could see the tell-tale light of the toy indicating that it was on. You trailed it down your body slowly, but picking up speed, clearly growing tired of your own teasing. Adrian wouldn’t let you get away with it that easily, he thought. He’d make you work for it, make you cry for it. He wasn’t too disappointed that you picked up the speed though – after all, this is what he wanted to see. When the vibrator finally reached your clit, your head tilted back, and he could see your eyes roll closed. Your hips jerked in uneven patterns against the toy, hand moving in tandem as you attempted to find the rhythm that would get you there. Hand pumping faster, Adrian leaned forward as far as he could. Your hand blocked most of your pussy, but he could still see your breasts bounce, your gaping mouth, your clear ecstasy. He wanted to be the one that caused that face, those sounds he imagined. Watching intently, he saw your free hand move up your body. He thought nothing of it, waiting for it to curve around your tit, the ones he so badly wanted to touch.

Instead, your hand curled around your own throat, and visibly tightened.

Adrian groaned sharply, a series of “fucks” escaping him as he spilled ropes of cum into his own hands. His eyes screwed shut, forever burning the memory of you choking yourself into his mind.

Even he will admit that after that night, it was no longer innocent. Every night that he could spare, he was at your window. Watching you exist, watching you dance around your kitchen, watching you touch yourself at night. He began to learn your schedule. What times you’d leave for groceries when you’d disappear for a walk to clear your head. When you were in a real rut after a rough day, maybe after a meeting gone wrong or a bad case of writer’s block, you’d disappear for nearly two hours, walking aimlessly through Evergreen’s streets. Adrian would follow you those days. Protecting you. Other days, however, he wouldn’t follow. He’d watch keenly as you’d lock the door behind you, cloth grocery bags under your arm, and wait for you to be out of sight of your home.

The first day he took the spare key from the plant pot and unlocked your door, his hands were shaking. But he had to know more. And so, he entered, exploring your home with wide, eager eyes. It didn’t take him long to make his way to your room. First, he laid down on your bed, inhaling deeply at the scent of you that was embedded within the sheets. Then, he glanced around the room, taking in the large mirror that sat beside the window he so frequently watched you from. So, you were watching yourself, he noted with a grin. Knowing he didn’t likely have much time, he stood up, fixing the bed quickly, before preparing to leave your home. That was, until he noticed a stray pair of panties lying on the top of a pile of likely dirty clothes.

He wasn’t going to take them.

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1,545 notes - Posted February 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Masked: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Fem!Reader SMUT

This funky little murderer really got my heart. This one’s really self-indulgent, but I can’t believe that Adrian isn’t soft as hell and Vigilante is a kinky shit.

Enjoy 4.6k words of some uneditted soft followed by pure filth, ya sinners.

Synopsis: After dating Adrian Chase for some time, you eventually find out that your sweet, mildly eccentric boyfriend is a masked vigilante with a hard-on for killing criminals. And you don’t have a problem with it - well, you do have one. You like it. You like it a little too much.

Warnings: NSFW, Consensual Non-Consent. Weapons Kink. Fucking in a Forest. The Mask Stays On. Criminal/Anti-Hero Roleplay. Dirty Talk. Established Relationship.

You hadn’t been seeing Adrian Chase for years and years, but you felt you had a solid understanding of who your boyfriend was as a person.

Your sweet boy was a little odd, for sure. Eccentric and all over the place, with the energy of a young puppy. His jokes would sometimes not land in certain crowds, but the pure joy he got out of even telling them would always bring a smile to your face. And despite being a bit off, he would always take time to make sure that you were okay, that you were looked after, that you were feeling loved.

He was a warm ray of sunshine, plain and simple.

But there had always been something…off. More off than his occasionally odd mannerisms or poorly timed jokes. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it felt like there was a layer you weren’t seeing clearly, something hidden behind his warm smiles and bright eyes.

A darkness festering.

You never called him out on it. You figured that in time, it would reveal itself. Adrian was always good at talking with you, so you had no doubt that with a little time, intentionally or not, he might slip up and confess what it was.

It was just another night when the confession came, albeit in a very unplanned way.

You had spent the night at Adrian’s, as you had been doing more and more frequently. A quiet, soft morning of cuddling and kissing your partner had been cut short, however, when a call came in, the sounds of Aqua interrupting your serene moment.

Short words were exchanged, and by the time the phone was hung up a hint of frustration and malice burned behind the emerald eyes you were falling in love with.

You sit up slowly, the blankets shifting down to reveal the shirt you had stolen from him – the heart eyes Adrian gave you when you exited his bathroom in only a black D20 shirt and panties would live in your mind forever – and you reach forward slowly to wrap an arm around him. Your lips pepper kisses onto his bare shoulder, taking a moment to (once again) marvel at how unexpectedly toned he was.

“Everything okay?” you mumble against his skin, looking up at him.

He tilts his head down to face you, malice turning to wonder in his eyes. You really could stare at them forever, behind those dorky frames that were really starting to grow on you.

“Work needs an extra guy,” he answered, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before standing up.

You groaned, lying back on his pillows, and watching as his muscles flex, pulling on his shirt.

“But it’s our day off!” you whine, curling back up in the bed.

Adrian turns back towards you, curls messy and glasses askew from putting on his shirt. He quickly straightened his frames and walked back over to you leaning down to place a lingering kiss on your lips.

“Stay here as long as you want, I don’t want to ruin your day off. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so don’t wait around, but maybe we can do something tonight?”

You groan again, winding your arm around his neck to pull him down to your lips again. Your hand grasps his hair, not hard enough to pull, but enough that you could feel Adrian’s breathe stutter against you.

“I can’t convince you to say fuck it?” you mumble against his lips.

It was his turn to groan.

“I want to, fuck I really want to.” Emerald eyes meet yours, filled with regret as he pulls away, running a hand through his hair. “I need to go, though.”

“Mmm, fine. I’m going back to sleep,” you sigh, lying down more comfortably and closing your eyes.

Adrian pauses in the doorway and leans against it, a goofy smile plastered on his face as he watches you.

“What?” you mumble, face half-smushed in the pillow, sensing him looking.

He shrugs, turning to leave. “I like that you’re comfy here. You’re cute, surrounded by my stuff.”

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1,638 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I'm obsessed that Masked is my top post

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Heroic Deeds

Thanks to @boldlyanxious and @ive-fallen-down-the-rabbithole for the idea

Marinette was going to kill her roommate. Because that’s why she was in this situation in the first place, her roommate was too busy to pick up his own damn paperwork. And she was just too “nice” to say no. And puppy dog eyes should be illegal. In fact, that was the next house rule. No puppy dog eyes. She has never in her life been able to say no to puppy dog eyes and mean it. Manon, Etta, Ella, Adrien… no more! Hence forth they were banned. It was already a rule with the kwami. It would just have to be instituted as a rule with humans as well.

But until then, she had to deal with this ridiculousness. This thief that sounded like he was bored out of his mind, like she was inconveniencing him by being held hostage. Is it too much to ask for him to be more invested in this than she is? I mean, she may be the one with the gun pointed at her, but he’s the one that’s pointing it and he’s the one that broke into the office to steal whatever documents he was halfheartedly looking for during the day instead of at night when NOBODY WOULD BE THERE.

But noooo, this jackass had to do it during the day and at the exact moment when she would be there. Really, what was her luck? Was this punishment for not wearing Tikki constantly anymore? She was only supposed to be in this office for a total of a whole ninety seconds. Walk in, grab the documents that were supposed to be ready and waiting for her, and walk out. But instead she was stuck here critiquing this idiot’s ransacking skills, because that ninety seconds is exactly when this blasé thief decided to strike.

At least Kate was safe, she huffed to herself. Kate had been lucky enough to have gone to the backroom for the documents just a few seconds before Idiot Man came in. Hopefully, she had escaped through the backdoor and had contacted the police already. Because apparently Kate hadn’t pissed off the kwami of luck like Marinette somehow had. She and Tikki were going to have a very long, very hissy discussion when she got back home.

And this guy wasn’t. Even. Paying. Attention. To. Her. The gun was pointed in her general direction, but it was like she was the furthest thing from his mind, like she held the same threat level as a kitten. But that was his mistake, underestimating her, because this kitten had claws. God, she’s been hanging out with Adrien too much. She’s beginning to think like him. She let out a breath and banged her head against the back of the chair she was sitting in out of frustration and disappointment in herself.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he was ignoring her to focus on his search, but he wasn’t really paying attention to that either. She would think he was high on something if there were any other signs of it. No, this just was just bored, like he was wasting time, waiting for the police to show up. Maybe it’s the ski mask he was wearing that was annoying him. Who wears a ski mask in the summer? And… did he just check his phone! Oh, Hell no! That was the final straw.

She moved before she could overthink it, sliding over the desk she had moved behind when he came in. She plowed into his chest with both feet, catching him completely off guard and knocking him back into the filing cabinet.

“Hey, get off me!” he yelled, sounding more affronted than worried.

She twisted around and kicked the gun out of his hand with one leg, following it up with a punch that would have broken his nose if he hadn’t blocked it with his forearm, redirecting her hit. She stopped her momentum before breaking her hand on the filing cabinet. She pulled her arm back instead striking her elbow directly into his cheek.

“What the fuck!” he yelled, holding his cheek and looking up at her like she was crazy.

He reached for his gun, but she kicked his arm and raced for it herself, kicking it under a nearby cabinet. “That was my gun!” he gritted out, rounding on her. At least he finally looked invested in this.

“I noticed,” she smirked at him, delivering a roundhouse kick to the face. He dodged at the last second and shoved her leg, changing her momentum and sending her flying toward the edge of the table. She squeezed her eyes shut as she braced herself for the impact. If she timed this right, she could use the table as a springboard to go back at him. The table was solidly built from thick, heavy wood and metal. It had to weigh several hundred pounds. It would be able to take her weight without moving even a centimeter. She took a breath to prepare, but the impact was significantly softer than she had anticipated and didn’t give her the bounce back she expected, causing her to end up sprawled on the floor instead of springing back at the thief.

Before she had even registered what happened, she heard a grunt in front of her and the sound of the table scraping against the floor as it moved. She looked up to a red helmet looking back at her. Her eyes flicked down quickly to his chest as if she needed the confirmation the bright red bat there gave her. He stood up quickly, rubbing his shoulder as he approached her. He knelt down in front of her. “You okay?” His voice was considerably softer than she would have anticipated from the vigilante considered to be the most dangerous of the bats.

She stared at him for a few seconds, shocked by the tone and to see him there in the first place. She had been expecting the police not a bat. It was daytime, everyone knew they didn’t come out during the day. The bat signal didn’t work during the day. “Miss,” he tried again, his voice taking on a concerned edge.

“Oh! Yes. Yeah. I’m fine.” She nodded rapidly and reached down to rub her leg where the thief had pushed her, more to relieve anxiety than because it actually hurt.

“You’re hurt.” It was a comment, not a question.

“It’s okay, really,” she tried to assure him, but he was already up and stalking toward the thief who had started edging toward the door. Marinette mentally scoffed at his stupidity. She understood underestimating her, she was an unknown and looked tiny. But Red Hood was a known entity. His threat level was well established. Why on Earth wouldn’t the thief have run as soon as he appeared?

“Hood…” he started nervously, holding up his hands as though trying to placate him.

Whatever other argument he was going to try to make died on his lips as Hood picked him up and threw him through the large, plate glass, front window. He stood at the window for a few seconds, watching the thief run away. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned back to her. “How badly are you hurt?” He approached her slowly. He rolled his shoulder a few times, almost imperceptibly. If she hadn’t been familiar with trying to hide an injury, she might have missed it.

Marinette smiled at him. ��“I’m not. Are you? Did I hurt your shoulder when I slammed into you?”

“Are you sure?” He stopped a respectable distance from her. He seemed to eye her leg suspiciously, but backed off questioning it. “I mean emotionally too. An incident like that can be stressful for some people.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Please, that wasn’t stressful. That was annoying. And you didn’t answer my question. How is your shoulder?”

Red Hood paused for a few seconds watching her. “It’s fine. You weren’t afraid?”

Marinette scoffed. “No. The most stressful part of this is I’m supposed to be picking up some important documents for my roommate and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get them now.”

“If you didn’t feel afraid of what he would do, why did you attack him? You could have provoked him into doing something he wasn’t going to do before,” he gently chided her.

Marinette let out an annoyed sigh. “You sound like my roommate.”

“Sounds like a wise man. Why didn't you listen?” He cocked his head to the side.

She mumbled something into her feet, not making eye contact with him.

He arched his head closer to her. “What was that?” She mumbled something again, slightly louder this time, but still not loud enough for him to understand what she said. “What?”

“Because he pissed me off. Okay?” she finally yelled in exasperation.

“What did he do to piss you off?” he asked carefully, because if the guy did anything to hurt her, he was going to hunt the asshole down and kill him.

“He was bored,” she growled. “He was holding me at gunpoint and acting like I was the one that forced him into the situation and it pissed me off, okay. I mean the audacity!” Red Hood fought laughing at the adorable scrunched up face she made as she talked. She waved her arms around agitatedly as she spoke. “You don't want to be here? Newsflash, asshole! Neither do I! I mean, if you’re going to threaten me, put some effort into it, you know? Am I not worth the effort?”

“You are.” Red Hood answered instantly. “I mean, you seem like you are… from what I can tell.”

“It’s just disrespectful,” she groused, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting as she leaned against the table.

“Extremely,” he agreed absently, staring at her pouting lips. “Lucky for you though. Seems like he underestimated you. I don’t even think you needed this knight in shining leather to rescue you.”

She huffed out a laugh. “I already have a knight in shining leather. Two, actually, if you count my roommate, which I do. I don’t really need another.”

He motioned like he wanted to take his helmet off but stopped himself. He positioned his arm on the table she was leaning on, supporting his weight as he leaned closer to her. “But are they heroes?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “I mean… to me,” she added quickly. She didn’t need anyone making any kind of a connection between her and Chat.

He seemed to contemplate her for a moment before responding. “You must be quite something to have so many knights willing to fight for you. But, maybe you can use another, after all they’re not here right now and I am. I can be your knight in shining Kevlar instead.”

She chuckled, looking down shyly. When she looked back up, it was through her eyelashes. “Yes, you are here and during the day too,” she smirked at him. “I didn’t think you guys could come out during the day. I thought sun repelled you.”

“You’re thinking of vampires.”

She pretended to study him carefully. “So you’re stating for the official record that you are not, in fact, vampires then? Just regular bats. Interesting.” She looked away nodding as if in thought. “I’ll have to let my friend know you’re refuting that theory. She runs a superhero blog. The vampire Bats theory is one of the more popular posts.”

He chuckled and she could hear the smile through his words. “We aren’t. Well, I’m not. Can’t vouch for Robin though. He’s definitely some kind of cryptid.”

Her face was starting to hurt from trying to contain her smile. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. “Although… you could be lying. After all, you are entirely covered right now… in the middle of the day… in the summer. That’s a lot of leather for a hot day. It kind of looks like you’re hiding from the sun.” She shrugged her shoulders innocently.

Red Hood stared at her a few more seconds and she was cursing the helmet for an entirely different reason than she usually did. Right now she was dying to know what kind of face he was making. Was he smirking? Was he frowning? Was he blushing? Did she make Red Hood blush! Was he enjoying the interaction or was she annoying him? He moved over to the window he had thrown the thief through earlier and stopped a few feet from it. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal his forearm and exposed it to the sun. “Happy?”

Marinette looked at his forearm for a few seconds, struck by the muscles that were so defined even in his forearms. The things that man could probably do with his hands… She walked closer and started to reach out to touch his forearm only to snap her hand back at the last second. Her cheeks blazed brightly. She cleared her throat lightly. “For now,” she nodded as casually as she could manage, looking everywhere but his eyes.

“Don’t feel shy, P… rincess,” he smirked at her. “Feel free to feel freely.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, as much to stop herself from reaching out to touch him as embarrassment. “Probably not a good idea to go around groping people you don’t know so….”

“So,” he started quietly, moving closer to her, “you’re saying you want to get to know me better and then you’ll grope me.” He quirked his head to the side as he took another step closer. “How well do we have to know each other for that? ‘Cuz, I’d let you do it now, so it’s all up to you.”

Marinette’s cheeks blazed a deep red. She looked away to collect herself. While this was fun and Red Hood’s body should be as illegal as his actions, she wasn’t looking to be another notch for him and considering the speed he was moving with someone he just met a few seconds ago, that’s all she would be. She took a breath and looked back up at him. “I’m saying… I should find the papers I was sent here for and get them back to my roommate.”

“Let me walk you home. Make sure the guy doesn’t come back. I can check the security of your place too to make sure you’re safe,” he offered in a tone that sounded sincere.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“Okay?” He sounded surprised at her answer. Most women must not say yes to him, which frankly she had a really hard time believing.

“To the walk, not the apartment check,” she corrected him firmly. “My apartment is safe.”

“Are you sure? I can…”

“My roommate made sure it’s safe and I trust my roommate more than I trust you,” she cut him off. “No offense.”

Red Hood was silent for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay.”

<><><><><>

Marinette laid down on the couch for a while after getting home replaying the events in her head. No matter how many times she ran through them, they still didn’t make any sense. The thief didn’t make sense. Red Hood being there during the day didn’t make sense. And Red Hood hitting on her… didn’t not make sense, but it definitely dampened the crush she had on him.

After a little while, her stomach reminded her she had planned to pick up something to eat after picking up the paperwork, which means she hadn’t eaten since the croissant she had at breakfast and it was now dinnertime. She let out a groan and forced herself up off the couch. Maybe chopping some vegetables would make her feel better anyway.

She had already started sautéing the onions when the puppy dog eyed man himself finally made it home. “That smells great, Mari. Were you able to get the paperwork?”

Marinette blinked at him a few times before narrowing her eyes and pointing the knife she was holding at him. “You’re not allowed to do puppy dog eyes anymore!”

“What? Why? I mean… I don’t… do that,” he trailed off quietly at the glare she was sending him.

“Yes, you do,” she glowered and went back to cutting vegetables for dinner a little more forcefully than she had originally.

“So what happened that was so bad?” he asked carefully. He moved to sit on the counter, but made sure to keep a fair distance between him and Marinette, or more specifically, her knife.

“The office got robbed!” she exclaimed loudly, waving the knife wildly. “While I was in it!”

He jumped down off the counter and ran to her. He grabbed her shoulders and looked her over carefully for any signs of injury. “Mari! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Marinette scoffed. “No. I just started trying to take him down when Red Hood interrupted.”

“Red Hood, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Yes, Red Hood,” she rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it quickly and took the knife from her hand first. Once he was fairly safe from getting stabbed, accidentally or on purpose, he continued. “Did you flirt with him?”

“What?” Her cheeks flared brightly. What the hell! Why was he asking her that? That was not a conversation she wanted to have. It was hard enough to have normal conversations with him and his tight shirts and charming smile and piercing eyes, but him encouraging her to flirt with other people was really not a conversation she wanted to have.

“Well you… you like him, right? You said he was your favorite and he was a dilf, even though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any kids,” he said nonchalantly as he swirled the onions in the pan.

“Yeah, because he could be my daddy,” Marinette muttered to herself, but apparently not as quietly as she thought she did, judging by the choking sounds next to her.

“What!”

“What?” The smug smirk making its way across his face told her that her denial didn’t come across as innocently as she had hoped. “Shut up, Jason.”

“So he made a good impression then?” He asked somewhat awkwardly, which was bizarre for him. “You might even want to see him again?”

She smacked him in the shoulder pausing when he flinched heavily. She stared at him, studying him closely. That was where Red Hood had been nursing earlier. Red Hood, who has the same dimensions as Jason. Red Hood, who had a still healing cut on his forearm in the exact same spot as the one Jason mysteriously showed up with a few days ago. Red Hood, who knew her roommate was a he. Red Hood, who reminded her so much of Jason, which is why she liked him so much in the first place. Red Hood, who was definitely flirting with her as he rescued her while she was the only one… in Jason’s aunt’s office… after saving her from someone who, thinking back, had the same dimensions and eye color as Roy…

“Oh he made an impression,” she said absentmindedly, still staring at his shoulder.

“A… um, a good one? He did save you, right? Heroic deeds and all? Women love a hero,” Jason added casually.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds, letting the pieces settle into place. Finally, her eyes widened in realization. “You set it up…”

Jason’s face went blank. “I… What?”

“You set it up,” Marinette repeated with more confidence. “You… Why?”

“What are you talking about?” Jason tried desperately.

She punched him hard in the shoulder. “Jesus! Fuck, Pixie. That hurt.” Jason cried out as he rubbed his aching shoulder.

“Good! What the fuck? Why would you do that? Were you trying to scare me?”

“No! I was… Because… because you liked Red Hood. I wanted you to meet him,” he said defensively. He looked away and took a breath. When he looked back, his voice was quieter, shakier. “You wanted Red Hood and… and I wanted you so…”

“You know, you could have just, I don’t know, popped up on the roof when I was there or showed up when I was walking home. You didn’t have to stage a robbery! Think about all that damage Kate has to deal with now!”

“She was remodeling anyway. She needed to demo the entire office so… two birds, you know?” He shrugged a little too casually to be casual and flipped the onions again.

“And one bat.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Or you could have just… said something”

“You weren’t interested in me. You were interested in Red Hood.”

Marinette let out a long sigh. “I was interested in Red Hood because he reminded me of you.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’. And liking him seemed less emotionally damaging than destroying my relationship with you by flirting.”

“You thought I wasn’t interested?” He looked at her incredulously. She looked down at her feet, shuffling them awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact, almost like she was afraid of what he was going to say. He couldn’t allow that to continue. He turned off the stove and walked up to her slowly, careful not to scare her, just like Red Hood had earlier that day. He gently cupped her face, softly enough that she could pull away if she wanted to. He stroked her cheeks tenderly.

When he finally spoke up again, his voice was loving and reverent. “Pix, I’m head over heels. I don’t think you even… no, I know you don’t know how much or you wouldn’t question why I tried talking to you as Red Hood instead. I love you, Pix. I love your heart and your humor and your sass and your passion… and your face. I love that too.

“And God, your smiles. I love your smile when you’re happy, which is different than your smile when you beat me at UMS, which is different than your smile when you see a little kitten, which is different than your smile when you’re thinking about home, which is different than your smile after you’ve completed a commission, which is different than your smile when I make an amazing joke that you hate. I love them all and I just want to see any of them, all of them, every day.”

He didn’t realize how close he had gotten to Marinette’s face until he realized the gasp she let out sounded like it was right next to him. She laid her hands over his wrists. “Jason…”

“And I really hope I didn’t…”

“Jason!” she interrupted. He looked at her wide eyed. She smiled reassuringly at him. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh God, Pixie, you can’t imagine how happy that would make me,” he smiled down at her, lowering himself so his lips were close enough for her to reach.

She grinned back up at him as she pushed herself up, her lips a few millimeters from his. “Oh, I think I have an idea,” she whispered before closing the distance.

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - heist

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Hey!!! I'm so glad you liked the blurb night idea :) 💞 Can I request a blurb with Peter bumping into the reader while she's kinda lost at times square and he's dressed as spiderman so he tries to flirt with you, but it makes you laugh instead?

I loved the idea hun, thankyou sm for helping me with this idea xxx

“You’re a guy?”

Pairing | Peter Parker x reader

Summary | based on the request

Warnings | mentions of crime, brief mention of death and drugs, mention of sex

2K blurb masterlist

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“And there was this girl. She was really pretty, but-“ May quirked her head at her nephew, hardly understanding his blabber as he sped through his words like he was racing verbally against a cheetah, though, she was manage to uncover that particular sentence.

“Whoa, slow down kiddo.” His aunt laughed lightly, bracing her shoulders on his arms as he caught his overexcited breath. “How about you start from the beginning, and take a breath?” May had much practice with calming the boy down, she sincerely remembered how that night his parents had dropped him off, how worried he had been for them not to return. And they didn’t.

Peter bobbed his head in a eager nod, doing as he was recommended by his legal guardian, puffing the air in through his cheeks, as he inhaled and exhaled normally through his nose.“I was out patrolling the city, checking out for any bad guys, and then, I saw her...” her, the girl that had captured his attention, and distracted him from his friendly neighbourhood duties. She was much like a magnet, pulling his north face into her axis spinning world, distracting him from the things that he was actually meant to be ensuring did not happen on his watch.

“Weren’t you supposed to be patrolling?” The elder of the two quirked a brow, earning a splutter of a response from the teenager under her roof. She wasn’t a strict guardian concerning his heroic antics, though, she made sure to keep him on track for his own sake. Peter had quite the tendency to become overrun with stress from the amounts of responsibilities that he took on, and him being only young did not help the situation.

“I’m getting to that!” He was fast to defend himself, huffing his chest in as he prepared to tell May his story, from the beginning. It was quite the tale, he’d say, combined with the embarrassment of his own presence entangled in the random and friendly interaction that he had felt promiscuously lulled to create.

Queens, it was new to you. There were so many streets, filled to the brim with people that seemed to know where they were going. Unlike them, you didn’t, in fact, you’d go as far to admit that you were lost. Lost in a place that was known for the chaos that wrapped it off with a tarnished bow, and made the collateral practically fashion within its various newspapers that rounded every corner to divulge their companies’ obscure theories.

A panicked look struck your eyes, as you turned, shaking your head and pressing through the mass of citizens and finding an empty lot, scrolling through your phone, diverting your attention quickly towards google maps. It was the only thing that you could think of, it’d be a shame if you were to disturb one of the many passersby from their clearly packed schedule; you did not need that, nor berating them on your conscience.

“You lost or something?” A voice asked, making your shoulders jump as a figure, twisted in the colours red and blue, with a seam of black fell from the roofs above. Your heart rate imploded, more so when you realised who the mask wearing vigilante was. The wearer, although unknown, was infamous for the successions of saving lives that they had participated in, including defending the galaxy against outside threats.

It was Spiderman, the neighbourhood dubbed avenger, that tried their utmost to return stolen or lost bikes to their rightful owners, and protected banks from armed and overnight robberies. There was known to be something different about this particular hero, they were young and clearly had time to improve their skill set, for they were quite the clutz, and spoke significantly more to those he faced off against than what was necessary.

But this one hero, stood out amongst the rest. Not only was their suit designed by Stark technology, as you had written about in a work article, but it was far more concealing, and not to mention restricting, for the person beneath the red concoction to wear. Yes, you were in town for a new job, specifically to delve into the details that regards the world of heroes, and exploit all possible angles to how they deserved as much recognition for their stunts, as the president received for his noble speeches.

“I-“ you paused, think back over what you were preparing to say. It was without a doubt, that you had not expected the vigilante to appear in your spectacle gaze the first time that you stepped foot on the premises that he roamed, and protected. But here the spider enthusiast was, leaping down to stand beside you, burdening you with more knowledge that you could use, such as the person beneath was not as tall as you had expected, and there was definitely no way you could see their true eyes through the shallow white cases that covered them.

That was something you could write about, and make various descriptive theories about. ‘Seeing in white vision, sparked by the purity that glazed their unknown signature irises, Spider-Man halts all with the sparing of their true self. They may have reasons for shielding their eyes, much like Daredevil, not needing to see when they are overcome with various other senses that convulse their body into attentiveness,” -no, that sounded absolutely terrible.

And not to mention, if you spread that horrid writing about, Murdoc would be ashamed of ever deciding to get your aid in uncovering the route of the villainous underworld, that had take over Hell’s Kitchen and turned it into their own ring for drugs and more. The battle of New York had many repercussions, that being one, another influencing you into the career choice of being said reporter that you now proclaimed yourself as.

“Yeah, I am.” You responded with the company of a smile, and Peter swore he could feel his heart convulse beneath his suit. It’s pace was vaguely rapid, disheartening him from thinking of any more to say, he was practically speechless. “I’m looking for New York Times, you ever heard of it?” Yes, he most definitely had, it was the average run of the mill newspaper company, though, he did not know that you intended to change that into something much more.

“Funnily enough I have.” He scratched the back of his head, his arm subconsciously flexing as he did so, feeling like he had failed as your eyes remained focused on the wideness of his suit’s intense eyes. “It’s about three blocks from here, I could take you there if you want, I have nothing more to do.” From his proclamation you quirked a brow, crossing your arms amusedly.

“Don’t you have a city to watch over?” You asked, watching as Spider-Man’s false eyes widened, and he visibly panicked, realising that you had been right. “I’ll find my way, I’ve been to New York, many a time, Queens is bound to be a piece of cake. Also, a map is always handy.” A shrug rippled off your shoulders, Peter watching and walking closer as he thought of something more to add to the initial acquainting conversation.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Inwardly, and beneath his mask, Peter cringed noting how his voice rose, and it could be perceived as boasting. That though was definitely not his intent in the slightest, but he worried of how it may have come across to you. He wasn’t sure how you may have read it as, but a swarm of relief filled his lungs as he watched the corner of your eyes crinkle up, humoured by the tone of his that had significantly heightened. “Im a guy by the way.”

He felt the need to state that, especially considering people’s perceptions in the past. But instantly after saying it, he was regretful, through, he had to admit, he enjoyed listening to you laugh, it was like a melody that he wanted to listen to until the end of time. “You’re a guy?” You released a dramatic gasp, aiding your phoney response. “Yeah, no. I completely thought that you were a girl.” Sarcasm, he had well gotten used to frequency of it thanks to Mr Stark, who... well, he wasn’t around any more.

“You’re funny.” He smiled, shaking his head whence he realised that you could not see his hidden expression. “I don’t know, maybe, would you like to go to coffee with me, if you have time before you have to get to the news place? I mean, I don’t drink that much coffee, I get told that if I have too much caffeine that I get a little hyper, but I mean, I’m trying to ask you out and I have a really bad track record of-“

“Sure.” You spoke, ignoring the map that had finally loaded onto the screen of your phone. It was to your luck that you weren’t required to make your presence known at the business until tomorrow, and there was always time to kill, so you thought screw it, and decided to find it so that you didn’t get lost the approaching day. “Are you going to be wearing that, or you know, take it off?” You pointed at him, making peter surprised.

“It’s not that kind of date.” He quickly responded. “I meant just for a drink, not to hook up in the back of an a- oh, you meant the suit, didn’t you.” With a roll of your eyes, you nodded, pursing your lips together, as Peter felt the rain of relief once more. “Oh, that’s good, not that I wouldn’t want to, you’re gorgeous, that just wasn’t my intent and I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

“Basically.” You wrinkled your nose, with a laugh, the way you scrunched it up was adorable to Peter. “So I’ll meet you here in two hours, I’ll let you finish up your duties, and change into something that doesn’t make you look you’re wearing a thong, because I can tell you from experience that those things are not comfortable. That good for you Spidey?”

“That works.” He spoke, trying his best to contain his overflowing excitement, biting his lip to do so. “That definitely works.”

“Hi.” The familiar voice of Spider-Man spoke, and you turned around, watching as a young man, not much different in age from yourself rounded the corner. He was clothed in a blue and white chequered flannel, and grey jeans, and you had to say, that whilst the amazing Spider-Man was quite the sight, this was something else.

“Oh, I was waiting for a girl actually.” You informed him, clearly messing with him, as you walked closer, a stretching smile pinning up the corners of your lips. “But I guess you’ll do webslinger.” He could feel his heart racing, but he walked closer, watching as you eyed him, a stranger met with the sight of a vigilante unmasked. “Where to, red and blue?”

“There’s this really good place on main, they sell the best sandwiches. And trust me, once you buy from there, you won’t stop...” the two of you began to walk away together, and towards Peter’s secret destination, where the two of you learnt the others real name.

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

#bnha 300 #endeavor #todoroki enji #todoroki shouto #todoroki rei #all them todorokis #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I can't believe I've done 300 of these now lol #think I'm gonna finally have to update the post index again

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lemonade-coolattas · 3 years

Text

how this is gonna go, pt. 2

a/n: thank you to everyone who read part 1 and asked for more! i’ve started planning a whole fic for this au, and idk how long it’ll be or how frequent the updates, but i’m excited. this part is a little filler-y, tho

(tagging this rowaelinmonth but be warned it fits today’s prompt (a bad day) in the loosest sense of the word. if you squint.)

vigilante!Rowan & thief!Aelin au

wordcount: ~3k

tw: language

Even before Lorcan picked him up from the outskirts of the city as the first rays of dawn lightened the sky, Rowan Whitethorn was having a shitty morning.

And when Lorcan pulled up in his beat-up old pickup, the stiff set of his friend’s shoulders visible even through the windshield, Rowan knew it was only getting to get worse.

“What the fuck, man?” Lorcan snapped as he pulled himself into the passenger seat. Rowan only grunted in response, buckling himself in with the seatbelt and wincing at the ache in his tailbone from being knocked down earlier. He crossed his arms over this chest, ignoring how the motion made him feel like a petulant child being picked up from the playground, and stared out the window, even as he felt the weight of his friend’s dark stare on the side of his face. He wished they would just get moving already.

Rowan knew that Lorcan had long suspected how he occupied his nights, but he never prodded him too much about it, which is why Rowan was willing to trust him during the few times he allowed his night job to bleed into the day. So, after stumbling around the shitty part of town for three hours, searching in vain for some sign of the woman who had kicked his ass and stolen his car, he had finally caved and called Lorcan for a ride, grateful that his friend was on his way home from his nightshift at the hospital and that Rowan’s phone was in his pocket and not in the front seat of the vehicle that was probably well on its way to the pound by now.

“Whitethorn.”

Rowan finally turned to look at him, and his friend swore, low and vicious, as he took in Rowan’s face.

He knew it probably looked like shit—he sure as hell felt like it—knew that his nose was crooked and he probably had streaks of dried blood on his chin and there were dark circles under his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Fuck, dude.”

Lorcan reached across the console, nurse’s hands gentle as he examined Rowan’s nose. Rowan hissed at the contact and resulting sting, jerking back, but Lorcan braced one hand against the side of his face to hold him steady.

“Did you set this already?”

Before Rowan could respond no, he hadn’t set it, Lorcan had grabbed his nose between his fingers and jerked it back into place.

“Fuck!” Rowan doubled over, tears pricking his eyes at the pain seared through the center of his face.

Lorcan wiped his hands on his scrubs. “Serves you right, dumbass.” He put the car into drive and started rolling down the street, navigating the back roads with ease as the worst of the pain faded from Rowan’s face. He checked both ways before pulling onto the highway and speaking again. “You gonna tell me what the hell you were doing over here? With a broken nose, looking like you haven’t slept in ages? And why you don’t have your car?”

Rowan mumbled under his breath. “It was stolen.”

Out of the corner of Rowan’s eye, he saw Lorcan tighten his grip on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Rowan groaned and rubbed his hands through his hair. “My car was stolen.”

“Good. Fucking excellent. So not only do you have the self-preservation instincts of a fucking dodo, but you also got your car stolen.”

“Lorcan—”

“Don’t you ‘Lorcan’ me.”

Now he definitely felt like a scolded child.

Rowan sighed. This wasn’t the first time that Lorcan had picked him up when he was in a rough spot, but from the way this conversation was going, it might be one of the last. Distantly, he wondered what was so different about this time that set his friend off, but Lorcan was even less upfront about his feelings than he was, so asking what was up with him was probably a dead-end.

So, for a while, they drove in silence, the city blurring by outside the window. The streets got busier, storefronts opening and cars whizzing by and people greeting each other on sidewalks as Rifthold woke up around them.

He should have been working through how he was going to replace his car, whether there was any way to track it down and whether his insurance covered car theft and how he would explain the situation to his insurance—somehow, he didn’t think I was tracking down Rifthold’s most uncatchable thief in the middle of the night. Why, you ask? Well, have you ever heard of the Silver Hawk? would be a fun conversation to have—but instead his thoughts drifted to her, Ardalan’s Angel, wondering how many times he had passed her on these very streets and not recognized her. Even last night, he hadn’t gotten a good look at her before she knocked him on his ass, only a glimpse of toned legs in leggings, and those striking turquoise eyes, her pupils rimmed in a gold that burned like fire. And the tattoo, of course.

But it had been enough to know that he wasn’t going to stop searching for her. What he had seen was more than what he knew about her two days ago, and that brief glimpse was all he really needed to go on to track her down once and for all.

He had two things to pay her back for now, after all.

Rowan was so lost in his thoughts of the woman that he didn’t notice when Lorcan pulled up in front of his apartment building on the other side of the city. The sun was fully in the sky now, and Rowan had to restrain a groan at the time on the dash. He was meeting with a client at noon, which left him a few hours, if that, for a nap and breakfast.

A shitty day, indeed.

Lorcan threw the car in park, and turned fully to face Rowan in his seat, and Rowan straightened at the tight set of the other man’s mouth. Lorcan just looked at him for a long moment before sighing heavily. “Listen. I haven’t asked questions up to now, and I won’t ask any more after this, so you better be paying attention.” He ran his hands through his long hair, tying back the dark strands in a knot at the base of his neck. “We’ve been through a lot. I’ll be here for you whenever you need me, you know that.” Rowan felt a knot building in his throat, which he tried to blame on his exhaustion. But this was as open as he had ever seen his friend. Something must’ve really been eating at him. “But—” Lorcan ran his hands over his face, weighing his words before finally snapping. “Hellas, Whitethorn, I know what happened to you is enough to fuck anyone up—but is all of this even worth it?”

Of course it is, Rowan wanted to snap back. What else is there?

But then Lorcan’s words settled in him. His friend was coming from a place of love, he knew that. He only wanted what was best for him.

But Rowan wouldn’t, couldn’t throw away everything he had been working toward the last four years, couldn’t abandon the promise he had made to himself. Not when there was still so much work to do.

A part of him whispered that maybe what he really couldn’t throw away was the thrill that was still alight in his blood when he thought about the car chase last night, the twitching in his fingers that urged him to screw the meeting with his client and get to work hunting the Angel down.

He ignored it.

Lorcan simply stared at him, reading the answer on his face, and let out a sigh, unsurprised. “Just—be careful. Get someone—not me—to watch your back at the very least, so I don’t have to go home to Elide some day and tell her that something happened to you.” And that I knew about it. Lorcan didn’t say the words, but Rowan heard them nonetheless, and Rowan’s heart twisted at the thought of hurting his best friend and his fiancée.

And Lorcan knew that, knew that he wouldn’t hurt them. Not intentionally. So—

“What’s going on, Salvaterre?”

Lorcan only shook his head and unlocked the doors. “Just get out of my car. And ice your fucking face, will you?”

Aelin Galathynius, despite coming home empty-handed to one royally pissed cousin, was having a wonderful morning.

“Good morning,” she sang as she pushed the door open after having undone the six locks and pressed her thumb to the fingerprint scanner outside.

Like she suspected, Aedion stood with his arms crossed in the entryway, sweatpants slung low on his hips and glasses pushed up on the top of his head. His hair had come out of its usual top-knot, revealing how many times he must have run his hands though the golden strands in the past few hours.

“What the hell, Aelin.”

“Lovely to see you, too.” She brushed past him to get further in her penthouse apartment, patting him lightly on the chest, ignoring the way he practically growled at the dismissal and followed her into the living room, where she discarded the jacket she had picked up on the way before making her way to the kitchen, flicking the lights on as she went.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I ordered breakfast?” she tossed over her shoulder. “It should be here any minute. Bacon, egg, and cheese—your favorite.” She went to the sink, filling up a glass with water, still ignoring the ire that she could practically feel radiating off her cousin in waves.

“What would make me feel better is you telling me what the hell happened out there last night.”

Aelin merely hummed, finally turning to face where he stood on the other side of the kitchen’s island, the two of them in a stand-off on either side. She gestured to one of the high-top stools by Aedion’s hip. “I’d suggest sitting.”

Aedion gritted his teeth, blue eyes so much like her own flaring.

She waved her hand. “Your loss.” She tossed the water back, taking several long gulps to ease the dryness in the back of her throat, with the added benefit of making Aedion sweat a little more. When she finished, she set the glass aside, leaning forward and resting her forearms on the countertop, the coolness of the marble easing some of the sting of her scraped elbows.

She couldn’t blame him for being mad, really, after she had gone dark three hours ago, cutting her comms and refusing to answer his phone calls. But, in her defense, she had been a tad busy.

“I met him.”

Aedion’s brows furrowed, and he motioned for her to go on. She didn’t, just laced her fingers together, waiting for him to put the pieces together and realize that there was only one him that she could be talking about.

It took a minute, and Aedion looked like he wanted to throttle her the whole time, but when she raised her eyebrow at him, a smirk teasing her lips, understanding finally dawned on his face.

“The Silver Hawk,” he breathed, a light in his eyes that looked a lot like… excitement. Aelin snorted as he finally eased back on the stool. He leaned forward, unable to hide the grin. “You met him?”

“Well.” Aelin twirled a loose strand of hair around her fingers. “I may have stolen his car.”

Aedion’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Wait, wait. Back up.” He braced his hands on the countertop. “What happened last night? It was him chasing you?”

She nodded. “I suppose I should be flattered that Mr. High-and-Mighty chose such a noble target like myself.”

They had known someone had been closing in on her, showing up at the location of her mark just as she was leaving, but she had thought maybe it was a cop with a little too much free time on their hands, not him. Didn’t he have cats to rescue from trees, or something?

Not that she would voice her derision to Aedion. He had been a bit of a fanboy of the Silver Hawk’s the past few years, ever since reports of a bright-haired vigilante stopping crimes before they happened and depositing some of the nastiest of Rifthold’s underground at the doorstep of the police had started airing on the TV. She had a feeling that Aedion secretly wished that she was more like him, using her own skills for something less…. self-serving. He’d never admit it, and she’d never hold it against him (nor would she admit how wrong he was about her selfish intentions), but she knew that was one reason he was so fascinated with Rifthold’s resident vigilante.

So Aelin sighed, relaying the story of the past couple hours, starting with her call to him to ask him to hack the power grid and cut the streetlights so she could make a getaway, to her ditching her own car at one of their warehouses downtown, stolen goods in the trunk, after cutting her earpiece, to her interaction with the vigilante—“He hit you with his car?” Aedion had cut in at that point, outraged—to her ditching his car at a different safehouse, before she had finally made her way back to the penthouse they both lived in and based their operation out of.

Aedion shook his head when she finished, picking up on the one detail she had left out. “What about the—?”

She cut him off. “I stored the jewels in the safehouse off 6th ave, and I’ll circle back there after I take a godsdamned nap, but no. It wasn’t at the jewelry store.”

Aedion’s shoulders slumped, and he ran his hand over his face. “There’s only so many places left it could be.”

“I know,” she murmured. This crusade of theirs… it was weighing on the both of them, and she couldn’t help but wonder if they would ever find what she was looking for.

She shook off the doubt, and met Aedion’s eyes again, changing the subject. “If I could pull a partial serial number from his car, with the make and model, would you be able to track him down?”

Aedion nodded, eyeing her with suspicion. “It might take me the afternoon, but I could probably find him, yeah.”

Aelin grinned, reaching in her pocket to give him the slip of paper nestled there. “Excellent.” She had been mildly impressed that the car had been entirely clean, no registration, no license, not so much as a fast-food napkin—and no license plates either, much like her own getaway vehicle from the night before. But just as she had been ready to give up, discard the thing in an alley somewhere, she had caught a glimpse of a string of numbers, partially scrubbed off, on the dash, and she had smiled.

She enjoyed this little game of cat-and-mouse they were playing, would be lying if she tried to deny that. Nobody had ever gotten as close to her as he had, made her heart race during a getaway like that, and while she wasn’t ready for their game to end just yet… maybe she could have a little fun with it.

And it was only respectful to know who she was playing with, of course.

Aedion snatched the paper from her outstretched fingers, pushing his glasses back down to his nose, and she could practically hear the gears whirring in her cousin’s head as he made his way back to the office down the hall, with his set-up of computers and screens and everything a hacker-turned-accomplice could need. Her little tech-nerd cousin. She loved it.

Just as she was getting ready to head to her room, debating whether to just collapse into bed or take a bath to soak her sore muscles—she could definitely feel a bruise forming where she had been knocked to the ground—a knock on the door sounded. Their breakfast, and as if on cue, her stomach rumbled.

She had only just tipped the delivery guy and settled back down at the island when her phone—her new phone, the one she had picked up this morning on the way back to the apartment since the old one has been cracked beyond repair—pinged, and she snorted at the text from Lysandra she found on the screen. Her cousin worked fast in more ways than one, it seemed.

Was he hot?

She had only caught a glimpse of the man in the headlights from his car, the strong build, the markings of a dark tattoo against his tan skin peeking up over the collar of his shirt, the sharp eyes that saw right through her and pinned her to the spot, even while he was fumbling over his apology for hitting her.

And then he had knelt in front of her to retrieve her phone, and she could feel the heat radiating off him even though the thick layer of her running clothes, and she’d had to force her breathing to remain steady.

No, she couldn’t deny that she was looking forward to meeting him again.

Lysandra didn’t have to know that, though, so Aelin sent a shrug emoji in response and huffed a laugh at the middle finger she got back.

She placed her phone facedown on the table and went to deliver her cousin his breakfast, the sound of him already typing away at his keyboard filtering down the hall.

Depending on how quickly her cousin worked, Aelin’s day was about to get even better. And the Silver Hawk’s a whole lot worse.

a/n: thinking about starting a tag list if anyone is interested! hoping to have the next part out soon-ish.

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catxsnow · 3 years

Text

FLIRTING GETS YOU NOWHERE J.T.

Request: Hey, can you please write a Jason Todd, Titans, where the reader is a badass fighter, a vigilante by the name of Spitfire that joins the Titans because Dick is like her older brother and she immediately builds this flirting relationship with Jason? He likes her a LOT and so does she and he feels like he doesn't deserve her and then after he and Dick have a fight the reader goes to console Jason and he tells her he loves her? With a little bit of smut?

Warning: implied smut, swearing, flashbacks of injury and near death, lil angst, lil fluff

A/N: My favourite thing about writing for Titans Jason is he’s still pre-trauma 😩😭

Word count: 4.1k

Dick had no intentions of bringing you into his life. He met you back when he was a Titan, before Jericho - before everything. Just a kid with no home and no future. Dick gave you a future, he gave you something worth living for. A purpose. The team adored you, Dawn pulled you in just as close as Dick had.

They trained you, brought you up to speed on the skills they had been working on for years. Sure, they were mad for brining a kid into this life - but what other choice did he have? Dick couldn't just leave you to fend for yourself, not when there was something that he could do about it.

You picked up on it all rather quickly. Joining them in fights, getting your own suit and name. It wasn't a life that you thought you would ever be a part of... but damn did you love it. It was a thrill, all of it. Being a completely new person when wearing the mask and getting lost in it all.

And then Jericho happened. All of you using him to get closer to Slade. Failing more than you ever thought possible. Losing Garth, losing Jericho, nearly losing you. It broke everyone apart - literally. Donna went her own way, Hank and Dawn together. Dick so desperately tried to leave you to live a better life.

You couldn't leave him, not after everything he's done for you. Dick tried to leave you - he really did. You knew him better than that, following him wasn't hard and once you were knocking on his door in Detroit he couldn't say no. Everyone blamed him for Jericho - for you - but you couldn't. Dick felt guilt every time he looked at you.

Five years passed with him. Five long years of working yourself back up to the same person that you once were. Five years of surgeries, therapy, anything so you could go back to being a hero. Dick was with you through it all, supporting you every step of the way and apologizing even more.

And when Rachel found Dick, everything changed. Your whole five years of starting a new life away from the Titans and your past was snatched away before your eyes. Travelling the country with Dick and Rachel, finding Kori and Gar. Seeing your old friends for the first time since that night in the hospital.

New people, new name, new suit. Same old place that reminded you of the night Slade nearly killed you.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, Jay."

Jason Todd. Second Robin. Dick didn't like him, not a first. Maybe because he was still mad at Bruce - maybe because Jason took an instant liking towards you. How could he not? Jason flirted his way into your life and Dick hated that you flirted right back. Over your time together, you had truly become his little sister.

He didn't trust Jason - not with you.

You were too good for someone like Jason. A heart of gold and a smile to match. Dick failed to see the similarities in you, not because he couldn't see them but because he refused to accept it. You and Jason both took this whole vigilante life as a game. Something to do because you could do whatever you wanted under that mask.

With Slade, you learned quickly that this wasn't a game. People got hurt, they died. Being a hero was real and it was dangerous. After meeting Jason, how lively he was, you hoped he never had to meet the same fate as you - or worse. Years of knee braces and crutches. It was horrible - all because you took it as a game.

"I can show you better elsewhere, babe," Jason threw another punch towards you, a coy smile on his face as you both bounced around on the mats. He started his training with Bruce a couple years after you started with Dick. However, he had all the years in between to keep his training up - you had just stated again less than a year ago. He was well in advantage.

You tried to throw a cross at him but Jason seemed to already be expecting your move. He grabbed your wrist and in a split second pulled you so your back was flat against his chest. His breathing was heavy from your spar. Jason's breath caught in his throat as your fingers grazed over his thigh.

"Promise?" You teased. Before he could answer, you elbow jutted into his abs. He released his hold on you and was distracted long enough that you could easily bring him down. Before Jason could even realize what had happened, he was on the ground in a leg lock. "I thought you were better than this? The great Robin taken down so quickly."

"You got lucky this time, Spitfire."

You released Jason from your hold, popping up and giving him a hand. "I think I kicked you ass enough for one day." Sweat drenched your body and your muscles were already aching. It had been far longer than you thought that you were in the ring with Jason - time seemed to fly with him.

"Wanna join me in the shower?" Jason raised an eyebrow. He asked that nearly every time you trained with him. Most of the time he was only joking, the others you were sure that he was hoping you would actually say yes. He loved to flirt with you, he liked to flirt with everyone, but you? You were his favourite.

It came so easy to him when he was with you. Words of adoration and praise always filled his mind when thinking of you. Since the moment he met you it was easy.

"Is this a bad time?" Gar's green hair peaked through the entrance of the training room. He looked between you and Jason, only inches apart from on another. Your flirtatious relationship with Jason didn't go unknown to everyone else on the team. Dick hated it, Kori thought it was adorable, your old team members couldn't bother looking you in the eye long enough to have an opinion.

"We were just leaving," you looked back to Jason. The grin on his face widened as he thought that you agreed to his offer. It fell as you spoke again, "to our separate rooms, to shower separately."

"You'll say yes one day, babe."

Dick loved to tell you how much he didn't like you hanging out with Jason. He didn't like your late nights of sharing music in his room. Your hours of sparring that were a little too personal for the ring. He didn't like walking in to the living room of the tower to see you and Jason half-cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.

He tried to get Kori to agree with him, though she stayed out of it. Dick was several years older than you, but he still saw you as nothing but that little kid he picked up all those years ago. Jason was everything that he didn't want to see in you. He didn't want him to taint your life, not that he could stop it.

It lead to it's fights. Dick trying to control you life just like he always had. You being stubborn, yelling at him. There were a lot of times that you wondered if it would have been easier if you never met him, he was too much of a pain in the ass to bare sometimes. Yet you owed him everything.

Jason found you in the med bay. He'd been looking around for you all evening and couldn't find you anywhere. This was the last place he expected to see you. He stood at the door, watching you pull off the knee brace he saw you wear sometimes. It was obvious that you tried to hide it from everyone.

"What do you need, Jason?" You asked, back towards him but not needing to turn to see that it was him. Jason pushed himself off the frame of the door and leaned on the table across from you. His arms were crossed over his chest but he didn't hold his usual cocky smile. He looked concerned. "You can ask."

"Does it still hurt?" It wasn't the question that you were expecting. Dick never told anyone the full story about what happened between you and Slade. He felt it to be your story to tell, not his. Jason knew the bits and pieces, but he didn't know everything. If you wanted to tell him, you would.

"Only when I breathe," you tried to joke. Jason didn't laugh, instead he sat down on the bed next to you. "It's not a big deal, I've been living with it for nearly six years." It only occurred to him in that moment how young you were when this happened - you were just a kid who nearly couldn't get back up ever again.

He watched your eyes seal shut, trying to hide any noise of pain when standing up. Without a word, Jason swooped you up and carried you back to your room so you didn't have to put pressure back on your knee. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, but I wanted to," Jason half smiled. He sprawled out on the end of your bed, staring up at your ceiling. Your legs rested across his, but you mimicked his position. "Do you think he's really dead?"

"If he's not, he will be if I ever see him again," you spoke. Jason leaned up on his elbows to look at you. He was shocked to hear you speak of such harsh words. However, he couldn't blame you for that. Slade took away years of your life - if you ever saw him again revenge almost felt necessary. "I'm not that same kid anymore."

"I know," Jason stated. "You need me, I'm there."

"I'll hold you too that," You finally peaked up at him. A smile rode his face and you couldn't help but join. Things were easier with Jason. He was always so easy to talk to. After everything that the both of you had been through, you got a new level understanding - one that you didn't get with Dick.

"I'll hold you against anything if you ask nicely," Jason winked. He laughed at your poor attempt to kick him off your bed. The movement struck pain through you and he quickly noticed your wince. His laughter diminished instantly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just... just not a good day apparently," you grimaced. Jason carefully propped your knee up on his laps. Ugly scars laid thick on your skin, your knee was visibly swollen. Training the day before you had gone harder than you should have. Jason's fingers were cold as he traced over the lines.

The pads of his thumbs pressed into your sore muscles, massaging them as if he had known pain like yours his whole life. Your head tilted back, eyes closed shut at the release of pain. His hands were like ice against your skin but god did it feel so good. The aching pain that never went away simmered with his motions.

"Feel good?" Jason asked. You nodded, enjoying the feeling of relaxation that hadn't seemed to come to you for a long time. "Can make you feel even better later if you want."

"You never stop, do you?" You chuckled.

"Not when it comes to you babe," Jason winked again as you peaked your eyes open. This time, you couldn't stop your smile. He was cute, you had to give him that. Just as he was about to speak again, a clearing of a throat caught your attention. Dick was standing at your door, arms crossed, lips pursed.

He saw the brace out again, he wanted to ask how you were feeling - but seeing you wish Jason only frustrated him. Luckily, he hadn't heard the comment that Jason had just made to you. He cleared his throat, catching both of your guys attention. "Came to check how you were feeling," He forced out. "Jason, a word?"

"He's fine, Dick," you looked up at him. You knew the look - the 'protective brother mode' look. It was the most annoying face he seemed to make - and he had a lot of those. Jason retracted his hands from your knee, though you missed his touch instantly. "I'm fine. Same as I am every day. Jason was just giving me a hand."

Dick’s eyes narrowed and he was evidently frustrated. Jason quickly picked up on the tension in the room and cleared his throat. He stood up from the bed, careful not to touch your knee at all. "I told Gar and Rachel I would teach them stuff anyways, it's fine," he assured you.

Dick stared Jason down as he left your room. His glanced flashed over to you before looking down at your knee. Guilt filled him, just as it always did.

"Rest up."

Whatever Dick talked to Jason about it must have stuck with him. Jason stopped being his usual flirty self. He lost his smile when he was around you, he changed. It had been weeks since you had your 'flirt battle' as Gar liked to call them and you missed it. Whatever was going on inside his head, it wasn't good.

Whenever you tried to bring it up with him, he promised he was okay. 'I'm tired' 'I'm just sore from yesterday' any excuse that tried to make up for his behavior. You knew him well enough to know it was a lie and that Dick had to have said something to him to make him this way. When you asked Dick, he promised that he said nothing to Jason to make him this way.

As much as he annoyed you, Dick didn't lie - not to you. Whatever Jason was thinking, it was completely on him. Which made you even more worried - when he got lost in his thoughts he was gone.

So, as days, weeks passed, you kept on by yourself. Jason kept his distance from you and by extension, the whole team. You were his biggest link to staying connected with everyone and now that was severed. Everyone noticed the shift in dynamic between the both of you and were left just as confused.

It wasn't just Jason's distance that everyone was noticing - it was his aggression. Jason going out on patrol just like he used to. You were at his side, though silence over took the both of you. He would ask if your knee was up to the task that night before leaving and after that he said nothing.

He was aggressive out there. Throwing punches that were harder and longer than needed. Relentless against some asshole that probably deserved it - but wasn't necessary. You were worried about him. So worried that you finally had to cave and go tell Dick the truth of what was going on when you were there with him.

As badly as you didn't want to make Jason even more upset at you, this path he was going down wasn't a good one. If there was something that you could do to help, then it was worth the risk. Unfortunately for you, Jason reacted exactly like you expected him to when Dick confronted him.

He was rash, harsh - yelling at Dick that he was fine and that you and him both should mind your own business. Neither of you wanted to get Bruce involved but if it needed to happen, you would go to that extent. Jason rushed off back to his room, slamming his door shut as he did so.

You peaked your head out from your own room. Dick was standing in the middle of the hall, defeat on his face from how poorly the conversation went. He looked at you, hoping that you'd have a solution to this growing problem. Neither of you wanted to see Jason like this - especially when you didn't know where it came from.

With a sigh, you stood in front of Jason's door and knocked. There was no answer, even so when you tried a second time. You looked over at Dick a final time before twisting the handle to let yourself in. To your surprise, the door wasn't locked. With final 'good luck' nod from Dick, you slipped into the room.

Jason was standing at his window, staring out of it and completely unaware of your presence. His shoulders were tense; he held himself as if the whole world was trying to tear him down piece by piece. As if everyone and everything were against him every second of the day without an escape.

You saw the same in Dick. They were more similar than either of them would ever like to admit. Both trying to fight against the world one handed while holding everyone up with the other. They didn't want help - not because they didn't think they needed it - but because sharing a burden like that was too painful.

"Jason."

He tensed at the sound of your voice. Refusing to look at you as if you were the last person he wanted to see. As if your time together these past several months meant absolutely nothing to him. God you hoped it wasn't true. Jason was everything to you, and these past few weeks without him made it so easy to realize that.

"Jay, please. You've been shutting me out for weeks," You stepped closer to him. "I just want to help, I want to know what's going on." Your fingers ghosted over his, debating whether or not to enclose his hand in yours. He answered it for you, retracting away from your touch like you were poison.

"You deserve someone better than me," Jason finally whispered out. You could barely hear him, the pain in his voice was so evident it hurt you. "I don't deserve to be around someone like you."

"Jason where did this come from?" You asked. Was this why he was so distant to you? Jason tricked himself into believe that he didn't deserve you at all. Dick hadn't meant to spark the thought within him, but it had happened. An offside comment about how good of a person you were and Jason realized just how right he was.

Jason was nothing but a darkness that tainted your light. He wanted to believe that, make it easier to push himself away from you so you could be better off in the grand scheme of things. It was far from the truth. Jason showed you a real happiness that you hadn't experienced since your time with the original Titans.

He showed you what it meant to live again without being held back by fear or pain. Jason showed you what it was like to feel loved for who you were, not who you used to be. He was there through the pain of your old wounds and ready to catch before you got new ones. You were the one who didn't deserve someone like him.

"Dick-"

"Doesn't know what he's talking about," you cut him off before he could try to reiterate what Dick had said to him. You didn't want to hear it because none of it was true. Dick always thought he knew what was best for you and he didn't. "I care about you, Jason. I've never cared for someone so much in such a short amount of time and it scares the hell out of me. But if there's one thing I'm certain about - it's that you're going to be by my side through it all."

Jason didn't say anything. You were scared that your words spooked him and that maybe he didn't care about you in the same way. Maybe all of his flirts were truly just harmless. You sighed, worried that all this was for null. Jason didn't want to be saved, he never did.

"I love you," he quietly muttered out as if he was scared to say it, scared to see what you had to say about it. Jason was scared that you were going to leave him just as everyone else in his life did. He was scared that he was going to disappoint you - or even worse - ruin you. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, "I'm in love with you."

"Then why walk away from me?" You grabbed his hands, forcing him to look at you fully since you had walked into his room. "Why assume that I never felt the same way? Or let Dick choose your path for you?"

"I thought you'd be better off."

"I'm better off with you."

Your hands trailed up his arms, his chest, until reaching his cheeks. He held a strong façade, but you knew what hid behind it. Fear, trauma, desperation for acceptance. Jason was a wall when he wanted to be, but with you, he felt like it could all crumble down and he would be better off in the end.

In less than a moment, Jason had grasped the back of your neck, pulling you so close towards him that no air could fir between. His lips rashly pushed against yours, desperate for you touch. The months worth of buildup to this moment were worth every second of waiting. This was what he needed.

The pounding in his chest was so profound you swore you could feel it against your own. You couldn't focus on the small breaths of air that you desperately needed between movements, only how addictive he was. The shaking in your knees at how divine he felt completely pressed against you was nothing compared to the unsteadiness of his hands.

Scared that this was a dream, scared that you would think this only to be a mistake because of a build up of guilt that she had. Jason couldn't let this be a one time thing, he couldn't.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, lips grazing over yours. His hand at the back of your neck fell to your waist.

"I want you Jason. I want to be with you," you assured. It was enough, those few words were enough for him to give himself up to you completely. His fingers squeezed into your waist, tugging you up so you'd jump into him. Legs wrapped around his waist as he walked you both to his bed.

He encased you on his bed, arms on either side of you. Jason's kisses became deeper as he grew more confident. A shudder went down his spine as your fingers trailed down his chest until reaching the him of his t-shirt. He pulled away for only a second to pull off the material before going straight back to your lips.

Your hips lifted off his bed, desperate to meet his. Jason groaned at the slightest brush of your jeans. His head fell into the crook of your neck as he pressed down to meet you. The tightness of his jeans was so evident. His lips planted along your neck, wet kisses left in his wake until reaching a small spot that made you breath hitch.

You could feel his grin against your skin before he paid more attention there. His hips ground into yours as he nipped and sucked. You reached for his buckle, needing more of this delicious sensation that he was providing you. Jason cried out as you grasped him through his underwear.

He helped you pull away his jeans as well as your own top. Clothes scattered across his floor, no longer caring about anything else besides you. "You're so damn beautiful," Jason trailed up with kisses as he undid your jeans.

"I thought you learned by now that flirting gets you nowhere," you teased. Your finger tipped his chin up, encouraging him to pull himself up to kiss you. His body fit so perfectly against yours, as if your curves were pieces of the same puzzle and he was the link you had always been missing. "Pretty boy."

"Flirting gets you nowhere," he mocked you.

"Got me here, didn't it?"

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #dc titans #titans #titans one shot #titans imagine #titans!jason #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood oneshot #robin #robin imagine

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kinglazrus · 3 years

Text

Dead Man Walking

Phic Phight | AO3 | FFN

Submitted by @syrren: Instead of making him half-dead, the portal accident makes Danny unable to die. This....changes things.

(or: how canon changes if the accident leaves Danny with deadpool-style regeneration abilities to make for a horrifyingly self-sacrificing vigilante, or with some kind of reset ability every time he dies to equally horrifying implications)

Summary: The accident changes Danny in ways he never thought possible. Sam and Tucker watch him fall from the portal dead and burnt beyond recognition, but he doesn't stay dead for long. He never stays dead. Of all the things Danny expected to happen when he walked into that portal, getting unlimited regeneration wasn't one of them, but now that he has it, he's going to put it to good use. Deadpool AU.

Word count: 3606

The first time Danny dies, his friends bear witness. They will never forget the ominous whirr of the portal as it turned on, the warning crackle of electricity, the final throat-tearing scream of their best friend. There are other things, too, that burned into their minds that day. How his body hit the floor of the lab with a thud, burnt beyond recognition, burnt so bad there wasn't any blood. How it smelled, to their horror, not so different from charred barbecue.

They like to pretend that part never happened. It's easy when all they need to do is call his phone and hear his voice, unaffected by the savage electrical heat that brought him to ruin that day. When he doesn't stay dead, it's not hard to pretend he never died at all. It took minutes for his body to fix itself, blackened skin overtaken by fresh pink muscle, which then sprouted new skin, perfectly unblemished.

Even the scar he got when he was fell off his bike at six years old disappeared.

"I liked that scar," Danny says, pouting when he finally notices its absence three days later.

"I don't think that's the right thing to get hung up," Sam says.

"But it looked like a spaceship!"

"I always thought it looked like an upside-down nine," Tucker muses.

"Or six," Sam says.

"Upside down nine is more fun."

They proceed like this for three weeks, mentioning the accident only in the lightest of terms, joking about their new, shared trauma. They are content to move on with their lives, forget it happened, go on as normal high schoolers. Until Danny dies again.

—

"What do you mean you don't want to hunt ghosts?" Jack exclaims. He gapes down at the trio, wholeheartedly baffled by this confession.

"I'll stick with tech, thanks," Tucker says, holding up his phone.

"Ghosts just aren't cool anymore," Sam says.

"Can I go back upstairs now?" Danny asks. At his question, Sam and Tucker fall silent. None of them make eye contact, and neither do they look toward the portal innocently humming only a few feet away. Danny is very aware that this is his first time in the lab since the accident. The same thought runs through Sam and Tucker's minds.

Jack doesn't notice the sudden change in mood. "Nonsense, Danno! You love ghosts. Why, I remember when you were just a tyke, you wanted to be a ghost when you grew up." He clenches his fist. "It was unacceptable. But that's okay! You can hunt them instead!"

He turns his back on Danny and his friends, eagerly going over the array of tools laid out on the counter. Ghost detectors, ecto-guns, protective shield, and an empty space where a thermos should be. "I forgot the best part! Wait right here, kids." Jack charges upstairs, leaving the kids alone.

Danny glances at the portal, unable to suppress a shiver. "You think he'd notice if I snuck away?"

"Nuh-uh, if you go, we go, too," Tucker says.

No one gets to go. Two sets of slimy green tentacles poke through the portal, probing the empty air. Their soft bodies soon follow, revealing a pair of ghostly octopuses.

"Holy shit ghosts are real." That is all Tucker has time to say before the ghosts attack. They launch themselves forward, shrieking in excitement. One goes for Sam and the other charges Tucker. They try to jump out of the way, but the ghosts are faster. The ectopuses tentacles wrap around them, pinning their arms down.

"Danny!" Sam shouts.

In retrospect, a smarter person would have gone for the ecto-gun lying on the table, freshly loaded and ready for a demonstration. Or, they might have shouted for his father, a ghost hunter who has trained his entire life for this scenario. But Danny acts faster than he thinks. He dives toward Tucker, the closest of the two, and digs his fingers into the ghost's tentacles. It screams as Danny's nails dig into its flesh.

The ghost's body goes translucent. Tucker slips out of its grasp, dropping to the floor in a heap, but Danny's hold stays firm. The ectopus panics, thrashing and tugging, its flailing limbs cutting through Tucker over and over without harming him. No matter what the ectopus does, it can't shake Danny loose, and his nails are starting to cut.

"Dude, you're doing it!" Tucker says, too soon.

As it flails, one of the ectopus' tentacles smacks Danny in the face, making his head snap back. At that moment, he and the ghost have the same realization. If he can touch it, it can hurt him back. The ectopus gives another shriek and its remaining seven tentacles surge forward. They wrap around Danny's arms, his chest, curling so tight his bones ache. The last one closes around Danny's throat.

His throat, weak like the ghost's flesh, crumples in an instant. His air disappears. No sound leaves his mouth, not even a wheeze, and his eyes bulge as panic sets in.

"Danny!" Sam and Tucker scream. Sam struggles against her captor kicking and gnashing her teeth, but her boots can't reach its body. Tucker grabs Danny, tries to pull him away, to bat off the ghost’s grip, but it is no use. The ghost is too strong, and Tucker can't touch it in this state.

Danny loses focus of them, then. His brain goes fuzzy, everything blurring around him while his face grows hot. All he can feel is the burn, the ache, the need to breathe, breathe, breathe damn it! The haze of the ghost looming over him fills his vision, slowly overtaken by red, then black spots.

As everything goes dark, Danny's last thought is this:

I guess I'm dead after all.

—

He hears the sobbing first. It starts off quiet and distant, but quickly grows louder, great hiccupping coughs scattered between heart-wrenching cries.

"Mr. Fenton!" someone screams. It happens fast, after that. Thundering steps, a deep cry of shock and pain that cuts him to his core. A piercing whine followed by two quick blasts.

The ectopuses' retreating shriek cuts through Danny loud and clear. His eyes snap open and air rushes into his lungs, a hoarse, wheezing breath that he holds for a moment. Then he takes another, and another, and he's breathing again, and he's not anymore.

Sam and Tucker, kneeling at his side, cry out as one. They throw themselves on him, blubbering messes the both of them. Danny's father, facing the portal, turns disbelieving eyes on him.

Danny's gaze drops to his father's hand and the ecto-gun clutched in it. "Oh, right." The word scrapes against his throat. He swallows, twice, until speaking doesn't hurt and says, "I forgot we had the gun.

"Danny!" Jack dashes toward them, dropping to his knees beside Danny. Sam and Tucker scramble back, giving him room. "Are you alright? What happened? You looked..."

Dead.

Because he was. Again.

"I'm fine," Danny assures him. "Lost consciousness, that's all.

"Danny, your face was blu—" Tucker yelps when Sam punches him in the shoulder, cutting him off mid-sentence. He rubs the spot, shooting her an offended look, but Sam's eyes are only on Danny.

Danny nods, just enough that she can see, a silent thanks.

"I think you kids should go upstairs now." Jack's voice trembles. He raises his hand, about to run it through his hair, but stops when he sees the gun he's still holding. "I'll take care of things down here. Call your parents and all that."

For the first time, Danny notices the green splotches littering the floor and the wall. Probably from the ectopuses.

Sam loops an arm around Danny's shoulders, hoisting him up. He stumbles when he gets to his feet, bracing himself against her as the room spins. It settles after a few seconds, but he still feels a bit lightheaded. A side effect of choking, maybe?

Tucker helps from Danny's other side. They go up to Danny's room in silence, their steps thumping up the stairs. Only once they're safely behind his closed door, and Danny is lying on the bed, does Sam speak.

"You died again," she says.

Danny touches his throat. "Yeah." Pressing gently, he feels is no lingering pain. Just like before, he healed without a trace. "Can I just not die now?"

"More like you can't stay dead," Tucker says.

"Tucker!" Sam hisses.

"What? It's true! Sorry that I'm not handling seeing my friend die twice very well!"

"Be quiet!"

Danny cuts in before they can devolve into shouting. "Let's just leave it at two, okay?"

Sam and Tucker share a glance over Danny's prone form and nod. The weight of that action is lost on Danny, whose only thought is that he wants to sleep for a very long time.

—

The knives don't kill him. They hurt like hell, but they don't kill him. He sees them flying toward him and leaps out of the way. Something strikes him in the gut, a solid punch that blows the air from his lungs and knocks him back into the walls. He thinks one of the frozen steaks got him, but when he looks down, he sees the handle of a kitchen knife sticking out of his stomach.

He stares at it, stunned, not feeling anything at first. Then, his body jolts, like a shock of electricity is running through him, and his nerves scream, heat building, until every little twitch sends a jolt of pain so deep coursing through him that he can hardly breathe.

"Danny, look out!" Tucker, or Sam, he can't tell which, so lost in his pain, cry out a warning. Danny doesn't move in time and two more knives bury themselves in his body, another in his stomach, and the other through his chest. The Lunch Lady cackles with glee as Danny gurgles. The last knife got his lung, and he can feel it slowly filling.

The pound of Sam's boots on the tiles reaches his ears. She shouts something, but he doesn't hear it. Trembling, Danny grips the handle of the knife in his lungs. In first-aid, they tell you to leave whatever object stabbing you in. It keeps the wound plugged, stops you from bleeding out. But Danny's instincts cry out against everything he was ever taught.

Take them out! Take them out!

He braces himself, then yanks. It hurts so much worse coming out, now that he's aware of the pain, the sharp edge searing as it rips the wound wider. He drops the knife and goes for the next one. All three fall to the floor beside him with a clatter, their blades shiny and red. Danny can't breathe, can barely think through the pain. He presses a hand against his chest, feeling the wound beneath his shirt.

It stitches itself together beneath his fingers. The searing pain retreats, replaced by a dull ache. By the time Sam reaches him and rips his shirt open to see his wound, his chest is healed.

"Technically, I didn't die," Danny croaks.

Sam sobs, covering her mouth with her hand. There's relief in her eyes, beneath the horror, and she makes a noise that might be a laugh, choked and garbled as it is.

Danny dives back into the fight with renewed vigour. Twenty minutes and one Fenton Thermos later, the ghost is gone, but not before half the student body saw some bloody idiot fighting it bare-handed.

"Did you see who it was?" Dash whispers to his friends.

Danny, clean of blood and wearing his gym t-shirt, slumps against the wall nearby, listening. Someone called the police when meat started flying through the hallways, and they apparently called Danny's parents. Ghosts are real and everyone knows it now, but Danny doesn't care about that at the moment.

"No, man. I wasn't close enough," Kwan answers Dash.

"Whoever that was, he totally just saved us all," Paulina says. She clasps her hands together and leans against Star. "He's such a hero."

Hero. The word resonates with Danny. He can't explain it, but it pulls at him. A hero. The school is in chaos, the yard covered in raw meat, the hallways hacked and slashed, but everyone is safe and unharmed thanks to Danny.

"More like a dumbass," Sam mutters from Danny's left.

"Semantics," Tucker says.

Between them, Danny only grins.

—

Jack paces in front of the portal, a tub of fudge cradled in the crook of his arm. Every few steps, he grabs a square and pops it in his mouth, chewing furiously. Between bites, he mutters.

"I'm telling you, Mads. He must have been some kind of ghost," he says.

"I don't know, Jack." Maddie, staring at the computer screen, tilts her head. They managed to grab a few stills from the school's security footage of the figure who fought off the ghost, but they didn't come out right. The surroundings are a little grainy, but no more than a standard security camera, so they know there's nothing wrong with the film itself. The ghost, who called herself the Lunch Lady if Maddie remembers correctly, is little more than a green haze in the image. They expected this. Ghosts don't interact with most technology well, not unless it is designed to interact with them.

But the smaller figure is distorted, a twisted shadow obscuring their form. Not ghostly, but not human either.

She clicks to the next image, getting the same results.

"Are you saying it's a human?" Jack asks without breaking stride.

"It's humanoid, but I don't think it's human, either. Yet it bled, so it's not a ghost. And look at this." She closes the files, revealing a folder full of pictures, all of them taken over the past couple of weeks as ghost sightings increased. "They show up at most fights and leave lots of bodily fluids behind." Jiggling the mouse, she circles a series of four images with the courser, all pictures of significant blood splatters. "But the samples..."

As one, she and Jack turn to the sample tray sitting on the far counter. Where the blood is deep red in the pictures, the samples they took have slowly turned to a dark, murky brown, like thick mud. The oldest sample from the first sighting is black.

Jack grabs a handful of fudge and shoves it in his mouth. "Not to mention," he speaks around the chewy squares, "what does it do with the ghosts?"

The lab door squeaks as it opens. Maddie and Jack fall silent, gazes turning toward the stairs. A pair of red sneakers appears on the top step, creeping down, until the wearer slowly reveals themself. Their son, Danny, with what looks like a thermos clutched in his hand.

"Sweetie, are you only just getting home?" Maddie asks.

Danny yelps in surprise. He jerks the thermos behind his back and swivels to face his parents, freezing on the step. "Oh, hey. I didn't think you guys would be here..."

Maddie narrows her eyes. "What did you do, young man? You were supposed to be home from school an hour ago."

"Nothing! I just got held up." Danny tugs the collar of his jacket.

That's odd. Maddie doesn't remember him leaving with a jacket this morning. The sleeves drape over his hands, down to his knuckles, and he has the collar turned up to cover his neck. It must be cold outside, even though September is only just ending. "What held you up?"

"Uh, that's kind of why I thought you guys wouldn't be here? There was another ghost fight. It got pretty bad." He shifts, pressing his arm against his side. Is his jacket darker there, against his ribs?

"Another ghost?" Jack exclaims. He slaps the fudge down on the closest surface, rattling the test tube samples. "Mads, we gotta go! There might still be some evidence!"

Maddie's eyes widen. "Oh, shoot. You're right! We need fresh samples." They race to grab their equipment, snatching up sample gathering packs from their desks, and charge up the stairs.

Danny presses himself against the wall, offering them a nervous smile as they go. "Stay safe!" he calls. The front door slams as Maddie and Jack make their exit, leaving the house in silence. Still, Danny doesn't relax until he hears the rev of the Fenton RV and the familiar squeal of its tires against the pavement. His shoulders slump and he breathes a sigh of relief.

"That was close." Taking his hand out from behind his back, he looks down at the Fenton Thermos. "Now let's get you taken care of."

As he empties the thermos back into the Ghost Zone, his gaze wanders to the computer screen, still open to the photo evidence. Danny reads the title of the folder. "Challenger?" He snorts. "That's lame." As he skims the photos, a couple jump out at him. In most, he can barely make out the shape of his own body—something he tries not to think about—but in one or two, he can recognize the colours of his clothes beneath the distorting shadow.

Danny slaps the cap back onto the empty thermos before moving closer to the computer, frowning at the screen. "That might be a problem."

—

Danny stands in front of his friends, fists resting on his hips, and shows off his new look. "Well? What do you think?"

Tucker looks him up and down, body shaking as he suppresses his laughter. "Is that a paper superhero mask? Did you spray paint your hair white?"

Danny's hands rise to his head. "It's a spray-on dye! I thought it was cool!"

"Ten bucks says it's super crispy."

"Don't be mean," Sam admonishes Tucker. "I think he looks pretty good. For a discount Jack Frost."

Tucker snaps his fingers. "Emo Jack Frost! The real one would never wear this much black."

"We are no longer friends," Danny says, turning away from them.

"Come on, don’t be a spoilsport."

"Nope, too late. I'm already dead to you."

Sam and Tucker share a confused glance. "Don't you mean we're dead to—" Before Sam can finish the sentence, Danny turns and throws himself out his bedroom window. "Danny!" They scramble after him, falling against the sill as they lean outside, peering down to the alley below.

Danny lies face-first on the pavement.

"Are you dead?" Tucker asks.

Danny raises his arm and gives them a thumbs up.

—

Valerie holds back a startled shout when the metal suit crashes onto the sidewalk next to her. She is not scared, but anyone would be surprised if two tons of metal suddenly fell from the sky. A scream, rapidly increasing in volume, drawings her gaze upwards just in time for a black-clad figure to plummet inches from her nose and land with a sharp crack on top of the suit.

This time Valerie cries out because holy shit, is he dead? Her panic sputters out when she peeks at the possible corpse and gets a good look at exactly who, or what, came falling after. A human figure dressed in all black with poorly coloured hair. It looks crispy as hell.

Valerie sneers. What kind of cheap dye did they use?

She recognizes the Challenger on sight. By now, more than half of Amity Park can, although Valerie can't account for the sudden style change. Maybe they realized how lame their regular t-shirt and jeans are and decided to switch things up. This isn't much better, though. Black hoodie, black pants, black boots, no style.

No one knows their name, but the moniker the Fentons gave them seems to have stuck. Valerie thinks it's a little on the nose, though.

Something wriggles in the corner of her eye and she looks to the Challenger's fist. It clutches a bright green blob, with stubby limbs and a wide mouth.

"Let go of me!" The blob beats its penny-sized fists against the Challenger's thumb. "You are my prey!"

The Challenger groans. "Can you shut up for a second? I think my neck broke." They squeeze the blob until it squeaks.

"Hey. Watch where you're throwing this stuff around." Valerie kicks the arm of the metal suit. "You nearly crushed me!"

The Challenger jolts. Their head whips up, accompanied by a loud crack, and they lurch to their feet. A mask covers their eyes—cheap like the hair dye, probably from a costume stored—but judging by the way their eyebrows shoot up, they look at Valerie with wide eyes.

"Uh, hey, Va—citizen." Their voice drops a solid octave. "Sorry about that! I'll watch out next time." They are about to say something else when a loud squeal interrupts up, the signature sound of the Fentons' approach. The Challenger pales. "Sorry, gotta go!"

They dash into the nearest alley before Valerie can get another word in, leaving her with the empty metal husk and the sound of the Fentons from two streets away. She gapes after them, unsure what to make of the brief exchange.

"Actually, wait a second." The Challenger pops back around the corner, leaping over the ghost's suit to reach Valerie. They grab her shoulders in a cold grip. "Are people really using that dumb name for me?"

At a loss for words, Valerie nods.

"Ugh." The Challenger groans and lets her go in favour of rubbing a hand down their face. "Stop that. It's so boring. Just call me... Phantom. Okay? See ya!" They spin away, too fast, and trip over the metal suit.

Wow, Valerie thinks as Phantom scrambles around the corner once more. We have the lamest superhero ever.

#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #danny fenton #deadpool au #danny phantom fanfiction #humour #tumblroneshot

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summerlovingbaby · 3 years

Text

tfatws Not My Captain P1

“ I don’t know Sam maybe this is the wrong address.” Bucky said knocking on the door once more. “ We should just leave, and think of something else.” Bucky said looking for any reason to leave.

“ She’s probably just not home, lets just wait a few minutes.” Sam responded.

A few seconds later a motorcycle that was speeding down the street, came to a halt in front of the house. A woman stepped off the bike, and took of a helmet, 2 long sweeping braids fall out of the helmet and landed on her back. She balance the bike helmet on the handlebars.

She took off her sunglasses and tucked them in her shirt. She started walking up the sidewalk , and started fishing around the back pocket of her jeans for keys .She was the spitting image of her father, they had the same eyes, and the same brown hair though hers was way longer than his . Y/N Stark. Shew was a few feet away from the porch, she saw them.

“ What are you doing here?” Y/N asked.

“ It’s kind of a long story. ”Bucky said scratching his head.

Y/N pushed past the pair, and shoved the key in the keyhole. She forced open the door so forcefully that it swung open wide. At the door was waiting a few dogs and a cat. She walked through the cavalcade of 4 legged animals and bent down and pet one of them. She walked in her house and fought the urge to slam the door behind her.

“ Are you going to come in?” She asked without looking at them

They followed her into the house and trailed her through the kitchen. They scurried to the kitchen and sat down at the table , and sat down at the kitchen table. Their bags placed next to them. She disappeared to the living room and threw her backpack on the couch. Bucky and Sam could hear her loud sigh from the kitchen. When she came back in Bucky and Sam really got to look at her, she looked not great.

Instead of joining them at the kitchen table, she scurried about the kitchen doing things. She pulled out baking pans and flour from her pantry, After a few awkward moments she finally spoke.

“Are you here about Wanda?” Y/N asked bluntly, she sounded asperated.

“ Wanda?” Sam questioned. “ What happened with Wanda?”

“ Nothing... never mind.” Y/N said shaking her head slightly.

“ Pepper called me, she’s worried about you.” Sam said.

" Why would she be worried?” Y/N asked, she was now measuring ingredients.

“ She’s been sending you checks every other weeks, says you haven’t been cashing them.” Sam said using the voice he always used when he was talking to veterans. Y/N continued to busy herself about the kitchen, she only shrugged in response. “ Says you haven’t touched her trust fund either.” Sam started digging through his bag. “ She also called me in hysterics, said you were in the hospital. Twice.” This caused Y/N’s eyes to grow wide. She took a shaky breath. Sam placed two files on the kitchen table.

“ Twice?” Bucky questioned. His eyes darted to Y/N and he was suddenly scanning her. He took notice of the brace of the wrist and ankle. He started to reach for the file, but Y/N snatched it before he could grab it.

“ How did she find out?” Y/N asked, she stopped what she was doing, and looked defeated.

“ She’s still you’re emergency contact, are you okay?” Sam said.

Y/N discarded the files on the kitchen counter. She started mixing ingredients, she took a weary breath and she closed her eyes for a bit.

“ Did you read it?” She asked.

“ No.” Sam said looking at her with empathy. “ I’m asking you again... are you okay?”

Bucky looked at Y/N with confused wide eyes it was clear that he was missing something.

“ I’m fine... tell Pepper I’m fine.” Y/N said through baited and harsh breaths.

“ Okay. I’ll tell her.” Sam responded.

“ How is Pepper and Morgan?” Y/N asked.

“ There doing okay, would be better if they had you.” Sam said.

“ I’ll call, I will, I promise.” Y/N said giving Sam a trustful nod.

“ Okay. I’ll tell them that you’re okay.” Sam said nodded back.

“ Thanks. Now why are you really here?” Y/N asked.

“ We need help.” Bucky said, his eyes were darting around the room.

“ With?” Y/N asked her eyes were drier now.

“ It’s complicated.” Sam said looking at the ground.

“ Is it because you gave up the shield?” Y/N asked, still mixing the batter.

“ How did you know about that?” Sam said defensive.

“ I saw it on the news. I don’t live under a rock. Giving it up was a mistake Sam.” Y/N said, she said placing the cupcakes in the oven.

“ I didn’t realize that at the time.” Sam said, his eyes darted to the floor.

“ Steve gave it to you for a reason, if he wanted the government to have it, he would have gave it to them.” Y/N said.

“ I’m aware of that fact.” Sam said, he sounded less ashamed and more angry.

“ That shield meant a lot of things to a lot of people, including Tony.” Y/N said she just sounded so tired.

“ You’re one to talk, you didn’t even come to Tony’s funeral.” Sam said standing up, and pounding his fist on the table.

“ You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to come into my house and give me crap, especially after you gave up the shield.” Y/N said slamming her hands on the table.

“ You don’t now anything about that.”

“ Oh I know plenty.” Y/N said through her teeth.

“ Clearly not enough.” Sam said, his voice raised.

“ I know enough to know that giving up that shield was a mistake. Steve made mistakes, but you two were not one of them.” She said pointing at the two men.

“ You didn’t even know Steve-” Bucky interjected.

“ I knew Steve. You were gone for 5 years. He was my friend.” Y/n said raising her voice.

“ I’ve known Steve my whole life, you’ve known him for 5 minutes, he made plenty of mistakes.” Bucky said, now everybody was standing.

“ I never said he didn’t make any mistakes, I said that you two weren’t one of them.” Y/N said, her brows were furrowed and she was speaking through her teeth.

“ You don’t know anything about me.” Bucky said.

“ Oh.. don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. I know plenty.” Y/N said through a snarky smile that made Bucky take a step back.

Y/N awoke to a soft knocking on her door, she checked the clock on the wall, and was surprised to see that it was 3am. She begrudgingly got out of bed and limped through the hallway and to the door. She looked through the peephole to see Sargent Barnes on her doorstep with flowers. She opened the door.

“ Sargent Barnes, what are you doing here? Y/N asked leaning on the doorframe for support.

“ Sorry if it’s a bad time.” He responded, his hair looked moist and he looked upset.

“ It’s 3am Sargent.”

“ I’m sorry... I probably should have waited til’ morning.” Bucky said brushing his fingers through his hair.

“ It’s fine... sleep is for losers anyway.” Y/N said laughing at her on joke. “ Did you need something?”

“ My therapist wants me to make amends.” Bucky said. Y/N nodded confused.

“ And that involves me how?”

“ I never got to apologize to Tony, and I realized that I owe you an apology too.”

“ Why do you owe me an apology?”

“ I’m sorry for killing your grandpa...and trying to kill Tony.”

“ It’s okay.”

“ It isn’t okay.” Bucky’s eyes started to well into tears.

“ I forgive you.” Y/N said. Bucky’s eyes went wide, and a few tears streamed from his face. He tried to stifle a sob, but ended up collapsing onto Y/N in a fit of tear. That was the first time that somebody that he hurt forgave him. Not pardoned him, or excused his actions or blamed the “ Winter Solider”. But actually forgave him.

“ Why did we even come here?” Bucky said, slamming back down to the floor.

“ You came here because you need help and you turned down Walker, and you’re starting to think that was a mistake.” Y/N said her beginning to calm down as well.

“ John Walker?” Sam said throwing a glance at Bucky

“ Yes ,John Walker. Is there another Walker that would be relevant right now?”

“ How do you know Walker?” Bucky asked

“ He came here.”Y/N responded casually.

“ He came here? When?” Sam pressed.

“ A while ago, why?” Y/N asked.

“What did he want?” Bucky pressed.

“ Help. Cause he’s in over his head, just like you are.” Y/N said pointing at Bucky and Sam.

“ Did you tell him anything?” Sam asked rolling his eyes.

“ About the Flag Smashers? No.”

“ How do you know about the Flag Smashers?” Bucky asked

“Have you met me?” Y/N replied with a chuckle.

“ What did you find out?” Sam asked.

“ There a group of vigilantes, want a world without borders, where everyone has access to basic resources and stuff. The leader is a girl named Sin, she was displaced by the blip. They haven’t killed anybody, but the pattern could only escalate.”

“ That’s what were afraid of.” Bucky said.

“ Are you in?” Sam asked.

“ Its what Steve would do.” Bucky said.

“ I’m very well aware of what Steve would do. And I’m in. You can spend the night tonight, and we’ll come up with a plan tomorrow.”

TAGLIST INFO

@austynparksandpizza @footballaddictsblog @goddessgaga

@buckybarnes1991 @jungkookdingdong @tofeartheunknown

@yasminwashere @sunsetcurvej

#tfatws #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #tfatws sam #tfatws bucky #sam wilson #the winter solider imagine #bucky x avenger!reader #the avengers #the winter soilder #tfatws series

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thatasianstereotype · 4 years

Text

Fuck. I’m Gay.

I’ve been reading a lot of ml salt fics lately (mainly @unmaskedagain which is a literal goldmine of saltiness). And getting into the Damienette ship. Marinette really does deserves better (Fuck Canon) but so does Adrien. He is not a “sidekick”. Chat Noir and Ladybug are partners = equals. So I decided why not write a fic where Adrien gets his own happy ending in the form of a grumpy assassin-turned-vigilante that loves animals more than people.

Somewhat of a crack writing where creative liberties were definitely taken.

Lila Rossi is a bitch and everyone knew it. Well, by everyone, Adrien means himself, his good-amazing-make-pastries-for-him friend Marinette, his maybe-not-really-sure friend Chloe and his-not-that-close-really-classmate Nathaniel.

Yeah. It was a small number.

But Lila is still a bitch.

Anyway, Lila’s lies and manipulations have disturbed the status quo and not in a good way. She ended up making the majority of the class fawn over her like she was a perfect goddess and not a pompous-temperamental-hormonal teenager. Teenagers were prone to be gullible; he can understand his classmates being inclined to believe her. But this was utterly ridiculous (man, Chloe is rubbing off on him). No. You know what’s even more ridiculous? Ms. Bustier letting Lila get away with it. She doesn’t even stop the class mistreating Marinette who claimed she was a bully just because of you know who - Fucking Lila Rossi. The audacity of that bitch and her bitchy followers, am I right?

Growing up he watched the tv shows and the animes. High schools always had their drama but he thought that was to get some plot going on. He didn’t think it was an actual thing that happens in real life. But he was proven wrong. Françoise Dupont High School had their drama and it was way worse than what he watched on screen.

The worst part was that he couldn’t get away from Lila. Or he’ll be pulled from school (Fuck you Dad). He had to sit next to that bitch and listen to her drone on and on about things they both knew she didn’t do, about things she promised to do for her ever gullible followers friends. And couldn’t say anything against it if he wanted to stay in school. But even his discreet questioning didn’t do that much. It got some of the class to think something’s possibly fishy with her stories but not enough to think Lila was evil. So he just gave up. Because what was even the point?

He was distancing himself from Alya and Nino. He couldn’t really be friends with people who thought Lila held the sun and moon. They didn’t hang out as much as they used to and he made excuses when they did invite him to stuff. Lately, he was making outrageous excuses - like he had to take his cat to the vet even though he didn’t have a cat - to see if they caught on. They didn’t. It was fun but he didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad about that. But feeling sad-depressed-pain over it was a bitch so he decided to take his victories as they come.

Chloe had left the school earlier on. Her mom wanted to spend one-on-one time with her daughter (Yeah, Audrey is better at being a mother here). She was completely out of this drama mess. And Nathaniel kept his head down to not paint a target on himself.

His only consolation and ally in this whole mess was Marinette. His darling angel. His sunshine incarnate. His own goddess (not like that bitch Lila let’s get one thing straight).

When he was feeling overwhelmed (which was a lot), he spent it at her house. They spent it discussing fashion, trash talking Liar-la and the sheep class, playing video games, and making/eating the best baked goods in all of Paris. If he wasn’t at his photo shoots or at school, he was at her house. And with how often they spent time with each other, it wasn’t long before they accidentally revealed their alter egos to each other.

(The class’ Everyday Ladybug was actually Ladybug. How amazing is that! Isn’t Marinette the absolute coolest?!)

Since they outed themselves to each other, they had to give up their miraculous. And new heroes had to be chosen. As the guardian, Marinette decided to give the Ladybug miraculous to herself and the Cat one to Adrien. And make them the superheros of Paris.

(Just when he thought that Marinette couldn’t get any cooler)

They both collectively decided that being friends were for the best and put away their obsession crush over the other far far away. Now they were best friends-almost siblings. Oh who was he kidding? He was an honorary Dupain-Cheng. Marinette and her parents said so. And who was he to deny the goddess?

All was well.

Until he met this gorgeous boy with raven black hair and piercing green eyes that made him question everything in life.

Like fuck. His life wasn’t hard enough already?

It was a slow patrol. Just stopped a few petty crimes. No akuma tonight. He wasn’t really expecting much to happen.

Mari said patrolling regularly gives citizens a sense of security and it helps if one of them were on scene if an akuma does appear.

He didn’t mind. He loved running on the rooftops and feeling the wind in his face. After some time, he stopped and stood on top of one of the tallest buildings. Just soaking the view. The peace and serenity of it all. Seeing the glowing lights of his beloved city. Seeing the Eiffel Tower standing tall and proud.

(Forget school. Forget Liar-la and her hoard of bitches)

This was his city. This was why he fights Hawk Moth with Ladybug. They had something precious to protect.

He was done patrolling the regular routes and all his schoolwork was already finished. He could go to sleep but he didn’t feel that tired. And he really didn’t want to go back home. Mari shared her theory on his dad being Hawk Moth. She had really good reasons and a plethora of proof. If they could switch miraculous, why couldn’t he and Mayura - most likely Nathalie? Which would explain how Gabriel got akumatized.

After all her support with dealing with Lila, he was way more inclined to believe her even without the evidence. But those things just made him more wary of his dad. And he wasn’t too stoked on spending more time than what he can get away with with the guy. Because his dad being Hawk Moth explains why he wants Lila (his strongest supporter - Chameleon and Oni-chan, anyone?) close and makes Adrien play nice with her. And anyone who enables Lila’s bitchiness is on his enemy list.

Anyway, he was out here to enjoy the good mood not think about evil bitches and evil dads. So he sat himself down and enjoyed the sights. It was more calming than you would think.

He heard cars blaring and even a dog barking. The slight breeze felt nice. The moon was pretty bright tonight. The stars too. There was a lone couple walking through the park. There was also another teen in black running on rooftops a few buildings away.

Wait.

What?

He blinked and looked again. Huh, there was another teen in black running on rooftops. And it was not a hallucination.

What the actual fuck?

He was instantly on his feet, baton already in hand as he raced across the roof to reach said stranger.

“Hey!”

But because he was the lucky owner of the unlucky miraculous, the moment he said that, the guy was about to jump off a building to presumably roll onto the next one like Chat was watching him do beforehand. But his call made him lose focus and Chat watched horrified as the guy slipped and started falling into the alley.

Oh fuck! Mari was going to fucking kill this dumbass kitty!

He hoped to everything that Mari thinks is holy that he makes it in time. Extending his baton, he used it as a huge Pogo stick to basically catapult himself towards the stranger and wrapped his arms around him as he braced himself for the full weight of hitting the gravel at this height and speed. But he wasn’t that that concerned. His suit protected him from the majority of the injuries that would’ve occurred if he wasn’t wearing it. It hurt but it isn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Remember earlier? He takes his victories as they come.

This was not the smartest of ideas, he’ll admit. Mari had the brains to be honest. But it wasn’t bad if he say so. And he does say so.

He rolled over and immediately looked over the stranger that was remarkably unharmed in this whole mess.

And oh.

Oh.

The stranger was taller than he was with a lithe and lean frame. He had raven black hair that complimented his tanned skin and gorgeous green eyes that pierced through him, making his heart do funny things.

He was not expecting him to look as hot as he did. He wore a simply black t-shirt and jeans but he looked like a fucking Adonis, what the fuck. Even the moon shone down on him, highlighting his handsome features even more.

He shook himself of those thoughts and focused on what was more important. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

He was rudely pushed away, but he didn’t take offense. He did cause the guy to fall after all.

“Do not touch me.” (What kind of accent is that?) “I’m fine. You are truly a moronic imbecile of the highest accord to yell like that. And what are you even supposed to be? Some kind of knock-off Catwoman?”

At that, Chat looked at Hot-And-Sexy weird. “Are you new here? I’m the superhero Chat Noir. I protect Paris with Ladybug.”

“You’re joking.”

“I know I come off as the goofy hero because I make purr-fect puns all the time but I’m not joking about this.”

He took out his phone to show the foreign (since he’s obviously not a Parisian) stranger the akuma attacks and Ladybug and Chat Noir being a dynamic duo, saving Paris and beating Hawk Moth. Ok, he showed the stranger a lot of stuff. Sue him. He gets to brag about his Princess. And himself too.

“I never heard about this before.” Hot-And-Sexy (he has got to come up with a better name) said afterward. “3 years this has been going on? Why didn’t you ask for help from the Justice League or other superheros?”

Chat shrugged. “We tried. But they said we’re obviously pulling a prank and making this all up. So we stopped asking for help.”

For some reason this made Hot-And-Sexy angry. “They ignored your plea for help and left you to fight for yourselves?”

“Pretty much, yea.”

“You and Ladybug are children.”

“Excuse me? Are you doubting our ability to protect our city?" He was not apologetic at the sharp edge his voice took. Forget looking hot. How dare he? The audacity really.

Hot-And-Sexy shook his head. “I’m not. I know some child superheroes who are adequate at their jobs and a few who are remarkable like Robin in Gotham. But the majority of them had adult mentors to guide them. From what you’ve shown me, you and Ladybug had no one. You were left alone to fend for yourself with essentially no help.”

He never thought of it that way. But hearing it like that made him think: Fuck Adults Who Chose Children to Fight Their War For Them and Fuck Hawk Moth For Putting Them In This Position In The First Place.

You know what. Just to clear all his bases - Fuck Everyone But The Dupain-Chengs.

Chat couldn’t help but shrug, not quite knowing what to say to that. “Life is a bitch, I’ve come to find out. But enough of that. Why were you running on rooftops anyway?”

“It calms me down.”

Relatable.

“Is...Is your tail moving?”

“Huh?” He looked behind him to see his tail was indeed moving lazily. “Yeah. I’m called Chat Noir for a reason.”

“May I touch them?” Chat was used to people (usually kids) pulling on his tail to see if it was real (It was). And it really hurts because they usually rough. Not that he blames them. Kids don’t know any better. Still, he usually says no when people ask.

But Hot-And-Sexy had such a sincere expression that he said yes. To his surprise and delight, Hot-And-Sexy was extremely gentle (Can this guy be anymore perfect?) and it felt nice to be petted like that. Curse his touch-starvation (again Fuck you Dad).

Hot-And-Sexy was apparently fascinated by his ears and tail.

“Are you a meta?” He noticed how Hot-And-Sexy’s voice turned softer and fonder (or was he imagining that?).

“Nah. I’m fully human. I just got powers to transform into this.” He looked down at his phone seeing that the time was nearing 2 am.

“Have you suffered any injuries from your stupid stunt?”

“Hmm?” Chat looked back at him before gesturing to his body. “Don’t worry. I may not look like it but I can take it.”

He can practically feel Hot-And-Sexy rolling his eyes. “What an utter dolt.”

But there wasn’t any heat behind it so he didn’t take it to heart.

“Thanks, babe.”

“That was an insult.”

“And I’m taking it like a compliment.”

Chat stood up and stretched his limbs. Hot-And-Sexy doing the same but dusting off his clothes instead.

“So, uh, need any help getting home?”

“I am perfectly capable of finding my own way, thanks.”

“Ok. Have a nice night.” He was about to leave when he was caught off guard by Hot-And-Sexy staring at him for a good few seconds, making his limbs freeze in place at the heavy attention.

Before he said. “You should try contacting the Batfamily in Gotham about Hawk Moth. They’re used to dealing with weird things. I’m sure they won’t turn you or Ladybug away.”

Chat was a bit distracted by how intensely those green eyes focused on him, making his heart beat faster and his cheeks turn a vibrant red.

He was so screwed.

He used his baton to shoot himself up so he can run on rooftops, hurrying to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

“Mari! I think I’m gay!”

“It’s 2 in the morning, Chaton. Go to sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

After a good night’s rest (and thank everything that was right in the world that today was a weekend), Adrien told Mari all about Hot-And-Sexy. And yes, he did call the stranger that out loud. His everything-that-actually-matters sister simply took it in stride after giggling a bit. They spent the majority of the day discussing emotions and everything that came with that bundle.

Before he finally came to a conclusion.

He is definitely gay (He liked girls but not like like them). And most definitely had a crush on Hot-And-Sexy with the pretty green eyes.

Good news: He is no longer having a sexuality crisis.

Bad news: He is going through an emotional crisis.

Like dealing with these feelings that is making his stomach flip flop over and over again? The only one he ever had to deal with was the one he had on Ladybug and that (he talked with Mari about it months before. She was amazing with these emotional matters) was more of a hero-worship crush than anything really romantic.

And his crush on Hot-And-Sexy was so much more.

So it’s been about 2 weeks since he encountered Hot-And-Sexy. And he still haven’t figured out what else to call him. But the nickname was growing on him.

(He also told Mari about asking the Batfam for help but she was a bit apprehensive after the disastrous attempts of convincing the Justice League. He shrugged, trusting her opinion and left it at that)

Anyway, Lila was being her usual bitchy self. Father was being non-existent like always. Mari was his only source of sanity at school. And Hawk Moth was being a bitch.

Because of course, the day before they have a huge test, he decides to akumatize someone (in this case, a businessman who was really unhappy with getting fired) and cut in on study time. And this akuma took a while to defeat. Guess he drew a lot of strength from his burning hatred of the failings of the corporate world.

And just yesterday, a teenager who was upset at being grounded got akumatized and terrorized the city for 3 hours before Ladybug could purify her. It did however confirmed her fears. Hawk Moth was getting stronger. It took longer to defeat his monsters. They needed to find him and ended this fast.

Adrien landed on Mari’s balcony and slipped in her room, crashing on her big comfy bed, de-transforming on the spot. Plagg sleepily floating and laying next to him on the pillow. He was so tired. And photo shoots and school drama were not helping things.

For the record, he was not at all expecting to see Hot-And-Sexy in a bookstore of all places.

He was so engrossed in looking through the latest Boku no Hero Academia manga (can’t wait until Season 5 comes out) that when someone touched his shoulder, he was not proud to admit he squeaked a bit.

He turned around and his eyes widened his surprise.

“Hot-And-Sexy!”

It was indeed the Adonis Adrien had a huge crush on. Today he was wearing a white t-shirt paired with a blue denim jacket and black ripped jeans. Wow. He really can make anything look hot.

No. Bad Adrien. Don’t let him know you actually have a crush on him.

And oh fuck. Hot-And-Sexy was staring at the blonde and Adrien tried not to let himself get flustered. He has a very intense stare. For all he knew, Hot-And-Sexy stares at everyone like that.

Calm the fuck down, heart. You too brain.

He raised a handsome eyebrow in amusement. “Excuse me?”

Adrien felt himself burn with embarrassment, his face turning bright scarlet. No wonder he was fit for the unlucky miraculous or was this just a side-effect? Note to self, ask Mari about this later.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t get your name last time. And I just started calling you that in my head. Cause you’re really hot and you have pretty eyes.”

Fuck mouth! Why won’t you stop talking! Please for the love of everything that makes Mari a BAMF stop. Stop digging further into the hole of embarrassment! Abort mission! Abort!

“When did we meet?”

At that, he blink a few times. Oh fuck. He was not Superhero Chat Noir. He was Civilian Adrien Agreste. Mari was definitely murdering his dumbass tonight. Lightning please strike him down right now. Where was an unlucky lightning strike when you need it?

After a few seconds of his horrified silence, Hot-And-Sexy chuckled (he had such a nice laugh). “You are extremely lucky I already figured out your alter ego beforehand, Chaton.”

Before Adrien could even unwrap that statement, he held out a hand and had a dangerously sexy smirk on his face. “My name is Damian Wayne. Would you care to get a cup of coffee with me?”

And Adrien nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak. He can deal with the superhero thing later when he can think straight (hah!) and is not distracted by Damian’s beautiful smile and alluring green eyes and perfect everything.

Guess what?

Ya Boi got game.

(At least, he likes to think he does)

After a successful coffee date (was it a date? Please let it be a date), they exchanged numbers (cue internal squealing) and met up a few times afterward to hang out.

Apparently, Dami was here on business to deal with something for Wayne Enterprises.

“Aren’t you 17?”

“Father believes in preparing us when we’re young.”

Dami was amazingly sweet. Arrogant and pretentious with a stick up his ass but sweet. He treats stray animals with such reverence that Adrien’s heart melt every time he sees it.

It was an added bonus when Damian scorned Lila with cruel words and disgusted looks when she tried to cut in Adrien and Dami’s date(?)/meetup(?)/spending-time-together event.

She cried and whined afterwards and Adrien has to endure his father’s lecture. But it was totally worth it.

Oh yeah. Mari was not pleased that he accidentally outed himself to a civilian. But nothing that a couple of sad kitty eyes can’t fix.

“You are so lucky you’re cute, kitty-cat.” Mari grumbled but she was smiling. “I just need to have a good talk with him on the importance of secrecy.”

That day Damian Wayne learned to fear a certain Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It was 2 weeks later when Adrien woke up to a package next to his futon in Mari’s room. When he opened it, he saw the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous inside.

There was a card beneath it. And in beautiful cursive script read:

I dearly hope you enjoy my courting gift, mon amour. Allow me the honor to formally ask you out on a date. I look forward to hearing favorably from you soon.

- Damian Wayne

He couldn’t believe it.

“Mari! Damian likes me back!”

“Chaton, I swear. It is 2 in the morning.”

#ml x dc #ml salt #ml salt fic #lila rossi salt #marinette deserves better #but so does adrien #adrien deserves better #adrien agreste #sexuality crisis #gaydrien #adrien agreste x damian wayne #adridami #oneshot #how the fuck did this crack idea span 3K words #apparently I'm down with this ship

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bluegarners · 3 years

Note

For the bingo card, I'd like to request the "tortured for information" square with Dick being the one who's tortured (sorry Dick alskjda). You can include any other batfam member(s) that you want, I'm not picky 😁.

Oooo, that’s a good one! I was super excited to see your request, I hope this does the prompt right~ @hood-ex

Tortured for Information

The room they’re being contained in is small, perhaps eight foot by eight, and the ceiling barely crests at seven. It’s cramped and hot, the stone bricks that surround them leaving no room for air ventilation or any sort of moisture except their own sweat. They know there’s a door somewhere off to the right, but the enclosing darkness leaves most of it to the imagination. Pitch black inks the area, not a single source of light filtering through its void. They only know there’s a door in the darkness because there used to be four of them where three now sit in anticipation. A few inches rest between each of the three remaining figures, all trying their best to breathe through the heat and not inhale the stench of their own gross fluids.

Time is hard to tell in the dark, minds so used to constant movement that stillness is unexpected and dangerous. What they do know is that, before there were just three, they awoke one by one, feeling out for one another in the darkness, checking supplies (they had none), and trying their best to figure out how to escape. The door was the obvious solution at first, the largest of them using his shoulder as a battering ram against the heavy wood. There’s no give, no weakness, and the eldest stops the biggest before there’s unnecessary hurt inflicted. There are no hinges or door knobs or anything obvious through the touch of careful fingers, so other than hopelessly banging against the door, there’s no way to open it.

All of them were still on the cusp of disoriented when they realized there’s no air flow and that, if they’re as trapped as they believe themselves to be, conserving oxygen was the next priority after a failed escape. Suggestions of being underground were thrown around, all failing to recall how they ended up in the small room in the first place or who took them. The underground theory is plausible, being that there’s no light, but the sweltering heat doesn’t match the coolness of deep earth. Being in a basement was also likely, but seeing as their prison isn’t much of a room for a house or other building also leaves the hypothesis flimsy. They compared notes from what they could remember.

“Patrol,” Tim started, a small voice in the black, “in the West portion of Gotham. I was alone though.”

“Spoiler accompanied me in the South,” Damian said.

“Last I remembered, I was in the Cave with B,” Dick chimed in. “We were going over logs. Hood?”

“Drunk,” was the muttered reply. “Still nursing a headache actually so if you guys could shut up and think, that’d be great.”

They’re still on rickety terms with the estranged brother. Things have gotten better over the years, but the progress only graduated from ‘shoot on sight’ to ‘stay the hell away’. Progress is progress though. They’re getting there, slowly, and one day Alfred will coax him into a Manor dinner.

Silence fell on them, more out of nothing else to say rather than to comply with the command, and the only sound was their breaths filtering through the stagnant air. The heat isn’t unbearable. No, far from it, they’ve all endured worse, but the closeness of their bodies provided little relief. There’s hardly enough room to stand and take a few steps before accidentally smashing someone’s hand and soon enough, agitation was brewing. Britsling words, huffs, tuts, an occasional snap; none of them did well in dark, small, and claustrophobic situations.

The hard part about residing in shadow is that one cannot tell when eyes are open or closed, seeing darkness or dreaming in black. When Jason awakes for the second time, a fierce pounding building behind his ears, he realizes that someone is missing. Someone is gone from their eight by eight confinement. A stutter of breath is absent among the shallow patterns. His fingers fumble loosely against the hard flooring, rough in texture and covered in cracks and pebbles, until he finds a body.

He shakes them. “Wake up. Wake up now.”

It’s Damian. He’s up and alert in an instant, grasping at Jason’s wrist in a move meant to harm the older man. It merely pinches him. “What’s going on?” the boy hisses, grip frightfully tight.

Jason ignores him. Feels around for another body. His hand barely moves a foot before he feels something loose and soft. He tugs at it and a startled yell answers. “What the hell?” Tim growls, low enough to be a whisper but quick enough to be panicked.

A snake of oil and water falls into his stomach as Jason confirms it. It twists around in his gut even as he crawls over to where he thinks the door is, slamming a fist into it over and over again as he feels his own panic settle coolly into his feet. They took him. Dick is gone.

That was, in their best estimate, an hour ago. Now they all sit within reaching distance, careful to watch for the signs of induced slumber, periodically calling out to reassure one another. Tim thinks it was gas. Damian thinks drugs. Jason doesn’t know what to think, just that it happened and now Nightwing is gone. He does not voice his more sinister thoughts aloud on what happened to the man in blue, what might be happening right now, but he does not console the younger vigilantes. Order would dictate that it was now his job to look after them, as the second eldest, but he’s been on his own for years and doesn’t know how to.

Dick is gone and they can only sit and wait.

~oOo~

The vapor takes him last. He’s wedged himself into a corner, straining his eyes to make out even an outline of his brothers, when he hears a body slump to the floor, followed by two after. The noise is alarming because, well, those were bodies hitting the stone floor, his brothers, and Dick prepares himself for something as he holds his breath, clasping a hand over his nose.

The door suddenly opens and white light pours into the small room like an ocean hell bent on taking everything with it. It washes over everything, and for a moment, Dick is completely blinded and overwhelmed with the sudden contrast. Just as quickly as the light burst in, there are hands scraping and clawing against his shoulders and Dick is tempted to shout, but the vapors have finally reached his lungs and he feels the lull of sleep drag at his insides until his eyes weigh a thousand pounds and he is forced to close them.

When he blinks them open, he has to bite back a scream because there’s a masked face in front of him, a ghastly brown mask with gaping holes that peer into the depths. Dick is more than a little startled but finds it within himself to evaluate. His mask is still firmly in place, he can feel the spirit gum sucking at his skin, and he is still fully garbed in his Nightwing suit. A quick glance is easy enough to prove he is no longer in that dark prison he and his brothers had been held in, and another glance confirms that he is the only one out.

His brothers are still trapped.

He, too, is trapped, secured against what feels like a metal cot with leather and metal chains and straps tying his feet and arms to the corners of the cot. The masked face moves away from him, decidedly once it's confirmed he is in fact awake, and retreats back. Dick strains to see where they go but they disappear out his peripherals and is instead replaced with the sight of an old woman, gray, almost silver, hair falling in front of her eyes. There’s bright pink lipstick on her mouth, a dull blue shimmer shade smearing her eyelids, and a coral pink blush struggling to lift up the saggy flesh in what might be an attempt at youth. She smiles down at him. Her teeth are plastic.

“Good evening, Nightwing,” she simpers, reaching out a gnarled hand to stroke at his face. “Did you sleep well?”

Dick says nothing, trying to piece together the woman’s motives. He doesn’t recognize her. She’s new. But old. Perhaps an underground leader then. The masked person from earlier would indicate some sort of dramatic cult. Dick doesn’t know if the concealment of their identity means they intend to release him later, or if the showing of the old woman’s face is a move of power, as if to say that they have the means to keep him stationary and have little fear in doing so. The woman could be anyone from a simple grandmother to an “immortal” mortal, striving for some elixir of youth like the League of Assassins. Really, this could be anything. They, whoever it was that took Dick and his brothers, were clearly very capable.

Just as Dick begins to consider the idea of magic being involved, the old woman snaps her fingers and the wooden face from earlier reappears. The blow is quick, a metal stick coming down to strike at his abdomen, and Dick has little time to brace as metal meets his thin flesh and pain lights a fire inside his stomach. He bites back a scream.

“Now, you listen here young man,” the woman berates, a shaking finger pointing accusingly at him. “When you are asked a question, you answer. Where are your manners?”

Dick is too busy catching his breath to form a coherent response, and the woman snaps her fingers again, another blow striking at his stomach again. Dick relaxes as fully as he can despite the panic that’s quickly taking hold of his limbs, and the metal collides with his side this time with bruising force against one of his kidneys. A huff of hurt escapes his mouth and Dick instinctually begins to curl up into himself, only stopped by the straps that hold him down.

“Do you understand?” the old woman asks, raising her hand threateningly as if to snap again.

“Yes,” Dick wheezes out, breathing through the pain. “Yes, I get it.”

She drops her hand, a pleased and rather pleasant smile marring her face once more. “Good. Lovely. I’m sure you have many questions, Nightwing, but I am not obliged to answer any. However, I want you to answer some questions for me. How does that sound?”

Dick isn’t sure if a head nod is enough to placate her inquiry, so he manages another verbal affirmation.

“Excellent,” the old woman crows. “I’ll begin then. Oh drat, I almost forgot. You arrived with your brothers, yes?”

Dick feels the blood in his face drain. She notices.

“Oh, not to worry!” she reassures, a wrinkled hand coming up to pat his cheek. “No harm will come to them. I would never hurt a child, Nightwing, no sir. Family is very important after all. That’s why you’re here! So, to make sure that you answer truthfully, I would like to propose a bargain.”

“Bargain?” Dick questions. His side winces, still struggling to adapt to the injuries. He’ll have to deal with it later. Later.

“Quite so,” the woman agrees. “If you answer my questions with complete honesty, and I mean that young man, I will grant a few privileges to your brothers. I don’t like shutting them away in their room, but I know otherwise they wouldn’t behave. You can help them though. Here, I’ll show you.”

A screen flickers to life above his head, a monitor illuminating the ceiling.

“If you answer my question, I will turn on one light for them,” the woman says, shakily motioning to the pitch black screen. “That is how this will work. I will tell you what privileges can be earned for your brothers, and then ask you a question. Answering truthfully is the only way to give them those rewards though. Do you understand?”

“And if I don’t?” Dick questions back, the situation finally settling into his head. Rule number something that Bruce had always instilled in him was to never bargain with your captor, especially when others were involved. Innocents.

“Then I snap my fingers,” the woman responds coldly, “and Burtrum will do his best to force the truth out of you.”

Burtrum. The hulking figure in the wooden mask. Burtrum. Okay. Okay. Not the weirdest but- okay, fine. Burtrum.

“We’ll start easy, just so you understand that I am truthful in my promises. Are you ready, Nightwing?”

He can say no. He can say no and get beaten for it, but if he says no, then there’s the chance that his brothers will suffer for it. The old woman promised not to hurt them, she said she wouldn’t hurt children, but he can’t take anything she says as absolute fact. If he says yes, that he’s willing to answer her, there’s no telling what kind of questions she might want to pry an answer for out of him. She could ask about anything: identities, the Justice League, the Titans, Batman, codes, locations, anything. And if he doesn’t answer the way she wants, he’ll get beaten for it. Tortured, more like it, and he really doesn’t want to put himself through that if he doesn’t have to.

“I don’t know how you were raised, but I don’t accept silence as an answer. You will use your words.”

Tell that to Bruce, Dick thinks ruefully, mulling over his options once again. “Fine,” he settles on, “I’m ready.”

“Splendid. Burtrum, do please fetch me a chair. My knees are brittle and it’s cold in here.”

The massive figure of Burtrum, dear lord that sounds like a name Alfred would know somehow, lumbers away and Dick, admittedly, feels a little tension ease out of him now that the immediate threat is gone. Well, the immediate physical threat.

“Now, I promised you that I would turn a light on for your brothers. I understand that children can be afraid of the dark, and it is not my intention to frighten them like this. So, tell me, Nightwing, what is your favorite color?”

“My favorite color?” he repeats back dumbly.

“Yes, indeed. Answer that and I will lighten the room. It’s not a trick question. Everyone’s got a favorite color.”

Dick can’t think of how his favorite color might be used against someone, and he certainly doesn’t use it as his own password or anything, so he says, “I like blue.”

The old woman laughs, a vibrant blue fingernail tapping against the emblem spread across his chest. “I do as well,” she titters excitedly. “Lapis is such a beautiful color, wouldn’t you agree? Such a darling, delicate shade.”

Dick doesn’t know if it’s a question he actually has to answer, it seems rhetorical, but he doesn’t want to take any chances. The fewer bruises, the better as always. “Yeah, it’s-”

“As promised,” the old woman interrupts, talking over him, “I will turn on the light. I am an honest person, Nightwing, so I hope this show of good faith will inspire you.”

Immediately, Dick’s eyes snap to the screen above him, holding his breath in anticipation as he stares into the darkness. A few seconds later and a calm yellow washes over the dark screen, the slumped figures of his brothers finally in view. It appears to be a live feed, something Dick had originally been worried about, but as he sees Jason stand up at the new lightness and Tim’s head whipping around in astonishment, Dick feels his heart sigh.

Burtrum re-enters the room, rumbling with a newer heaviness in his arms as he carries a padded wooden chair. He gently places it onto the ground and the old woman sinks into it with a gratefulness that reminds Dick that this is literally an old woman he’s dealing with. Not some crime lord, not some super villain, not some drugged out meta human. She is, quite literally, just an eighty something year old lady with a singular, large butler like henchman at her service. It all feels quite ridiculous now that he thinks about it, and for a moment, Dick wonders if he’s hallucinating or dreaming.

The smarting ache in his stomach reminds him that, no, neither of those things are true and this is truly a dangerous situation with so many unknown variables. He needs to be careful. Needs to be smart about things.

“Now that we have established my honesty, it is time to establish yours. Let’s begin, shall we?”

~oOo~

The darkness retreats suddenly and unexpectedly. Damian does not jolt, any Robin to a respectable Batman never jolts, but he will admit the sudden brightness leaves him feeling antsy. The lights meant a few things. One, someone was watching them. Two, the room was far more complex than a few bricks and an immovable door. Three, something was going to happen soon with this new development or something already did.

Todd is swearing left and right, making for the door again. Drake is peering around the room skeptically, angling his head this way and that in an attempt to understand the new light sources. And he? Damian is staring a hole into the rough ground, thinking hard. About what, he can’t quite put to words, but somehow, the light does not comfort him. It only reassures him that there was something, rather someone, crucial missing from this entire situation, the darkness having hidden that blatant fact beforehand.

The illumination does not heat the room any further than it already feels, but Damian supposes time will change that. By itself, even before the brightness, the small prison was near sweltering and Damian could feel the back of his suit becoming soaked in his own sweat. Perhaps three hours, maybe a bit more, has passed since the first time they awoke to be trapped in this confinement. Dehydration was inevitable. Escape, by all means, was still a quandary that would not be answered for the foreseeable future. There was no telling if anyone was looking for them currently, no way to communicate a location with all of their materials stripped from their persons, and being trapped inside such a tiny space with two of his least favorite people in the world only worsened that fact.

To top it all off, Richard was still gone. Still missing. Captured. Elsewhere.

The heat must be making him light headed because suddenly his neck feels too weak to support his thoughts. He rests his face in between his knees and continues to think. There is little else to do.

~oOo~

“I have a list of necessities here. Every question you answer is one of them given to your brothers. When I have run through the entire list, of which there are only three elements, I will have Burtrum deliver the items you answered to. Is that clear, Nightwing?”

It’s insane is what it is, is all Dick can think, but his voice says otherwise. “Crystal.”

“We’ll start with hygiene. How often do you patrol in Bludhaven?”

“Whenever I have time to.”

The old woman frowns and taps two fingers against the metal cot. Burtrum and his dark brown mask loom forward and Dick can feel hands rest against his ankles. Dick has the sudden realization that his boots are gone. He has nothing but thick socks and a few band-aids on his feet.

“Do not be coy, young man,” the woman carps. “Answer properly. A schedule will do.”

Will giving away specific days be too much? Yes, likely so. Though it’s true he patrols whenever he has time to, those are for extra patrols when he has the opportunity to do so with a friend or fellow vigilante. Every second month on the third Tuesday, he patrols in Gotham with Batman and Robin. On a ‘regular’ schedule, he takes every chance he can get to go out on the streets of Bludhaven. Even then, if someone watches closely enough, he does have a pattern in the how/when/where he patrols. It’s a bit too far reaching to truly connect dots, but he can’t be sure. He also had to consider that there was hygiene on the line, whatever that meant. It could be a bathroom, a shower, medical supplies, medication. It could be many things, so was he willing to pass over that for his brothers? No, not truly, but he doesn’t really know how far he can push vagueness in order to appease the lady.

He’s taking too long. The grip around his ankles is tightening and though he’s almost sure Burtrum isn’t a meta-human, he certainly looks strong enough to do some serious damage.

“I don’t have a schedule but-”

The twists are sudden, efficient and ruthless, and the sickening snap that echoes in Dick’s ears takes a moment to register. Adrenaline keeps his brain from processing the sight of both of his feet and the tops of his toes pointing straight at him, but the bulge that shines through his socks is enough to jerk his thoughts to a screeching halt. Then the pain comes. It’s blinding. Bones grinding against each other, snapped unnaturally and grating against his muscles, creating a euphoria of fire and cold, cold ice that spreads to the very tips of his toenails. On instinct, he flails and immediately, immensely, regrets it as tears spring into his eyes and his lips contort in a half snarl, half gag of anguish.

“Your brothers have lost toilet privileges,” the old woman mutters unkindly, dull eyes unfeeling for his pain, “and Burtrum has done exactly as I warned. You are a selfish man, Nightwing. Selfish and unwise. I pray this has been a lesson for you on the consequences of being dishonest.”

Dick can hardly hear her over the roar of blood in his ears, heart beating faster and faster as the pain only continues to torment him. It’s crazy, he knows he can’t actually feel the bones touching one another, it’s not something he’s aware of on a daily basis, but right now it feels like his bones are singing and his nerves are their opera house. A raging cacophony of violence and crackling misery. He sucks in a breath. Slowly pushes it out. Repeats. In. Out. In. Out.

“Let’s try again. Water, three twelve ounce bottles. Do you work with the BPD often?”

Even in his agony induced haze, Dick understands that this is something he must answer. Water is important, essential, and he doesn’t know how much longer they’ll be captured here. The offer of water is much too tempting to pass up and he knows that the room the others are cornered in is already hot. Dehydration would take hold of them soon and he only has the flimsy word of his captor that his brothers will not be harmed. He has to have some trust that the bottles of water will remain un-tampered with.

“No,” he manages, words thick like sludge on his tongue, “not officially. Sometimes, I’ll help them with drug factions or serial killers.” Dick closes his eyes and breathes deeply again. Speaking is difficult when he wants to bite through his lip to distract himself from his broken bones. “I don’t have a working relationship like Batman does with the GCPD.”

The old woman hums, clapping her hands together. “I am happy you’ve come to your senses. Your honesty has earned your brothers some water.”

She reaches out to brush some of the sweat slicked strands of hair from his face, cooing in an odd motherly way. He hates the tenderness in her touch, as if she hadn’t just ordered someone to break his ankles. This woman wasn’t just dangerous, she was psychotic. Unpredictable. To further worsen a bad situation, he still can’t figure out what the purpose in all of this was. What the ultimate goal is. She seems interested in him, Nightwing, rather than his secret identity. She’s neglected to pry about Batman, of which all villains do when they’ve got a bird in their grasps, and the soothing motions of her hands juxtapose her violence.

Dick’s head is spinning from it all, the fire licking at his feet worsening the vertigo. He doesn’t understand anything at all and the circulation in his legs is thrumming in the worst way. His feet will turn blue soon, but before that, the flesh will balloon into something almost unrecognizable with the swelling that is sure to come. How long does it take for ankles to heal? Two months? Three? That’s ignoring physical therapy and if all goes according to plan. The breaks look bad, not exactly clean, and Dick is scaring himself with the possibility of never walking properly again.

“Let’s proceed with the final item on the necessities list. Three granola bars, all high in calorie. A real treat with chocolate chips, ho ho. I know children just love sweet things.”

He’s tempted to drown her out, just focus solely on the monitor still hanging over his head and watch his brothers, but once again he evaluates that food is indeed essential too and that he still doesn’t know when rescue or escape will be. His best estimate on timing is that they’ve been captured for the better part of four, maybe five hours. Possibly more. They’re nearing the timing in which someone will notice all four of them gone. Help will come soon, but he’s got to compensate for that large if in all of this. If help arrives. If they escape. Those snacks could end up being a saving grace depending on all of those ifs.

“What do you know about the Anaconda Killer?”

The moniker is familiar. An early 2000s serial killer in Bludhaven that strangled his victims after kidnapping and holding them for a week. Most of his victims were young girls, high-schoolers and undergraduates in college, and all were blonde with blue eyes. The killer was never caught and it haunts the BPD as their first major cold case, a total of seven known victims staining the profiles.

He tells her as much, paraphrasing, and she frowns. For a moment, Dick fears that he wasn’t specific enough despite his little knowledge on the subject. His eyes dart to Burtrum, still stationary at his feet and mask staring at nothing and everything, and Dick waits for confirmation as the old woman closes her eyes.

“You worked on the case?” she asks slowly, hands crawling up to rest lightly against the metal cot. “You know of the victims?”

“Yes,” he answers, careful to keep his tone steady. A jolt of doubt strikes through him though as the old woman’s eyes snap open, a feverish excitement taking hold of her.

“Oh that’s good,” she whispers. “Very, very good.”

~oOo~

They pass out for the third time.

Knocked out is probably the more correct term, but Tim can’t find it within himself to actually care because that was the third fucking time. He can’t figure out how they do it. He’s almost completely sure it’s some sort of gas agent that leaks in through the bricks, but he can’t find any gaps or seams where the gas would invade from. He’s looked, double checked, and he can’t find any discrepancies between the bricks and stones. It’s driving him crazy because if it’s that easy to take them out, why hasn’t anything been done to them yet?

And furthermore, why leave water and food in its place?

He’s holding one of the bottled waters in his hands, inspecting the seal to make absolutely certain it hasn’t been opened. Tim knows there are other ways to tamper with water other than actually unscrewing the cap, but honestly he feels a little desperate for a bit of relief for his thirst. He’s sweat through his uniform, having unclasped his cape about an hour into their confinement. He’s sure his face is a little clammy looking and breathing through his nose feels like he’s sucking in sand, so the water was like some sort of hallucination when he first saw it. The others weren’t sure what to make of it at first either, Damian suspicious that it was poisoned and Jason not really giving a fuck.

Tim’s thirst is winning over his skepticism though, the more he turns the bottle around in his hands, the more appealing the slosh of water looks. “They wouldn’t give this to us just to poison us,” he suggests, trying to reason his way into feeling less guilty about drinking. “It just wouldn’t make sense. Why give us drugged food and water when they’ve already shown they can do that with the air? It would be-”

“Holy shit, just shut up and drink it,” Jason mutters, uncapping his own bottle and taking a large swig. Both of the younger boys turn to him with large eyes, clearly watching to see if there are any immediate, negative side effects. Jason will admit he’s a little nervous to find out as well but his defiance on the subject merely just makes him take another sip.

Ten minutes go by and Tim’s tongue is feeling tacky and borderline dry. He gives in and drinks half of the bottle, swishing the lukewarm water around in his mouth. It’s a huge relief.

“Imbeciles,” Damian says, watching with ill-concealed fascination and disgust. “You are both foolish to accept that from the enemy.”

“Maybe,” Jason tosses back, lying down. His feet almost touch the other side. “Or maybe not. It could be from Nightwing.”

Damian's head snaps up. “What do you mean by that?”

Jason hums. “Well he was taken, what, a few hours ago?”

“Four.”

“Yeah? Huh, no shit. Either way, that leaves time for negotiations. A deal. Goldie just loves making deals.”

“You’re implying that Nightwing is speaking with the enemy about our treatment?” Damian says slowly.

“Speaking, screaming, dying, who knows. But sure. He’s talking to them about our treatment.”

Tim throws a small glare to Jason’s slouched form, irritated that he’s being so casual in such a potentially dangerous situation. A small part is also starting to get more worried though because the older man does make a point. Dick is probably speaking with their captors but it’s a far reach to say it’s voluntary. There’s about a seventy-three percent chance Dick is being tortured at the moment, tortured for information or otherwise. In terms of stubbornness and resistance to torture, Dick was only second to Bruce when it came to that sort of thing, be it threat of pain or mental anguish. His eldest brother has a hard head and an even tougher mindset, but his weak spot is his heart.

If Tim and the others were being used as bargaining chips, well, there wasn’t much Dick wouldn’t agree to. Suddenly, the bottle of water doesn’t feel so much like relief as it does guilt.

~oOo~

“We’re moving on from necessities,” the old woman proclaims, anticipation now tainting her voice. “I have no intention of keeping you and your brothers here forever; children should be allowed to frolic and such. So, Nightwing, this is your chance to earn them their freedom.”

He’s never been offered something like this before. Typically, the go-to style of his torturers always involved a threat of ‘You tell me what I wanna know and I won’t kill you and your loved ones,’ or ‘You’ll eventually talk if I keep you here long enough,’. Dick can’t remember a time where he’s been offered his freedom in exchange for information. It’s just not how these things work.

“I am willing to give your brothers their supplies back as a first exchange, excluding their weapons of course. Such a prize, however, can only be earned through truth and if you lie, I will know and your punishment for lying will be severe. I do not like hurting you, you know,” the woman simpers, “but I will order Burtrum to do so. This is very important to me. Do you understand?”

The stakes are climbing higher and higher with each minute that ticks by. Dick can’t really feel his feet much, only if he chooses to think about it or if he attempts to move anything below the knee, and the pulsating in his stomach isn’t a fantastic sign. He hadn’t originally thought the blows were enough to cause actual harm, maybe a few dark, dark bruises to show for them, but the sharp pin pricks in his side where he had been struck in the kidney doesn’t feel right. Internal bleeding is something that crosses his mind, the symptoms of numbness and a faint migraine building, but Dick forces himself to categorize and shelve the pain. Now isn’t the time. It’s really not the time.

“Yes,” he says stiffly, feeling his tongue scrape against the roof of his mouth. “I understand.”

“Splendid. Who is the Anaconda Killer?”

And wow, that’s a loaded question to start off the promise of liberty with. “The BPD never caught-”

“I don’t care,” the woman snaps, leaning forward. Her breath smells like old soup. “Tell me who the killer is.”

Dick swallows. Takes a breath and releases it. Eyes Burtrum, who is still hovering by his feet. Trails his eyes back to bright lipstick and shimmer eye shadow.

“Kennedy Giavich,” Dick says, unsure if he really should be giving out the name of a civilian that has never been charged. “My investigations pointed to him being the killer but there wasn’t any conclusive evidence.”

The old woman taps a fingernail against the cot and Burtrum moves forward, placing a single meaty hand on top of Dick’s mangled feet. Slowly, languidly, the man pushes against the soles of his feet and Dick sucks in a quick breath, screwing his eyes shut. The pain, like the first time, is laced with fire and ice and Dick is starting to come to terms with the fact that he’s going to have nerve damage if this keeps up. Never mind having to stay off his feet for a couple months, he’s never going to have proper feeling in his toes again.

“Who is Kennedy Giavich?” the old woman presses, leering further into Dick’s face.

In. Out. In. Out.

The woman taps her finger again and the pressure releases, the small scream Dick had been holding back dissipating as well. “Who is Kennedy?” she repeats.

“H-He’s a security guard,” Dick manages to wheeze out, still trying to catch his breath. “Works at a communal library. It’s where he sought out his victims. He, mgh, quit last year though. Brown hair, brown eyes, large build.”

“What else?”

“I tailed him for a couple months but he didn’t have any new victims. He lives near the library he worked at and hasn’t gotten another job since. That’s all I know.”

The old woman eyes him, pressing her lips together in what might be a scowl. She regards Dick with an air of suspicion, as if she could somehow read his mind to discern if he was telling the truth or not. He is, seeing as he really hasn’t done much follow up on Giavich in the past few months. A mistake, possibly, on his part but a cold case is cold, and Dick leaves it at that. Especially when there are more active and pressing things to attend to with the little time he has.

Reaching a decision, she raises a wrinkled hand and waves it behind her, signaling Burtrum to leave the room. Dick’s eyes travel upwards to the screen again, watching with a sick feeling in his stomach as one by one his brothers succumb to whatever invisible agent leaks into their small room. A minute later, the thick wooden door creaks open slightly, Burtrum out of sight of the ceiling camera, and a few utility belts are thrown in. The door shuts quickly, presumably some sort of locking mechanism closing it completely, and Dick abruptly doesn’t feel as bad giving away a supposedly innocent civilian’s name. Hopefully, with their tech back, his brothers will find away to escape and get out of whatever hole they’ve been trapped in.

“You said that he hasn’t taken any victims in recent times,” the old woman says quietly, hands folded into her lap. “That he’s been inactive?”

Dick nods. The sick in his stomach is starting to roll around a bit more violently, nausea taking hold. Burtrum re-enters the room holding something in his left hand, but Dick can’t tell what it is, the large figure just out of his peripheral vision. He swallows at the silence that follows his entrance, the air thick with tension. Dick holds his breath.

The old woman snaps her fingers and Burtrum descends upon him.

The blows are rapid and without prejudice, slamming into every available surface that isn’t obstructed by the straps that hold him down. It’s so fast, so savage, that Dick can’t follow the movements and prepare accordingly, the flash of a weapon and it’s strike zone too much for his pain muddled mind to physically follow. One barely glances against his feet but even that is enough to send his brain into a shock, white fire lacing up his legs and to the tip of his nose. It’s bruising, crushing force, each impact enough to completely paralyze him for a few precious milliseconds. His arms are jerking in their restraints, knees bumping against each other on reflex, and there might be a sound escaping his jaw each time a blow connects, but he can’t be sure because everything is happening much too fast and his lungs are gasping for air that escapes him.

All the while, as Burtrum continues to pummel him and break his bones and bleed him dry, the old woman is muttering, gazing at the beat-down with angered, uninterested eyes and a frown cold enough to freeze the sun.

It’s all Dick can do but try and relax, there’s no point in defending himself like this, but his instincts are going hay-wire. He wants to clench and retaliate, snatch the weapon out of those ruthless hands, but Dick’s own hands are secured tightly. He can feel the marks pulling at the skin of his wrists, indenting and leaving bright red and raw flesh behind in his frenzy. Desperately, his eyes once again travel to the screen above him, his brothers’ forms still and un-moving. The sight brings little comfort, a small and irrational portion of his head screaming that they’re dead, that the old woman killed them, that Dick killed them, that he’s going to die to-

The beating stops. The old woman has a frail hand resting against Burtrum’s huge arm. She’s staring right at him.

“That was unfair of me,” she says. “I should have warned you again.”

Blood dribbles past his lips, saliva and bile sliding out as well and leaking onto the cool metal.

“I told you at the start that I wouldn’t tolerate lies.”

Something shifts inside Dick’s chest. He thinks a rib might’ve been broken. Or maybe that’s his clavicle. Sternum. Something. It hurts. It hurts.

“That Burtrum would extract the truth if necessary. Really this shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Nightwing.”

Breathing is difficult. His stomach spasms with each inhale and exhale. It’s slow and pained. Thoughts are difficult too. His eyes remain fixed on the dull monitor. Jason is moving. Reaching for his empty holsters. Tim is shifting. Damian remains still.

A gentle hand guides his chin away from the screen.

“Don’t lie to me,” the old woman whispers. There are tears in her eyes. “I told you that this was very important to me. Would you like to know why? Why I do this?”

Dick doesn’t have the strength to say yes or no. Doesn’t have the will to nod his head or turn it away. He can only stare through the lens of his mask.

“He has my grand-daughter,” she admits, voice trembling. Her fingers tap a frantic rhythm against his chin and blood flicks in their dance across his face. “I just know it. And I know you must know it too. You live in Bludhaven, don’t you? You work with the police there. Surely you must know? You’ve told me as much, so surely… Surely you know where she is?”

No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t.

The tapping stops and fingernails dig into the sides of his jaw, shaking him. It jars something in his mouth and he coughs, spittle flying out and something hard dislodging. He’s lost a tooth then it would seem.

“Her name is Maria Dunken,” the old woman tells him, looking, searching, for anything like recognition in Dick’s bloody face. “She has blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s only sixteen. Please, you must know what he did to her. Where she is. Answer me! Tell me!”

Dick feels himself drifting, mind floating somewhere between coherence and dizziness. He can’t feel his feet anymore, his heart is beating beating beating, and there’s a dark fuzz building at the edges of his vision.

The old woman releases his face, pulling instead at the heavy arm of Burtrum. “This,” she says almost breathless, the panic building in her voice, “This is her uncle. Don’t you see? You must, you must know where she is. We are her family. Family is important, I know you understand this. See, look at your brothers! You do this for them, don’t you?”

Yes, Dick thinks, a mist falling over his sight. Always.

“I, we both, would do anything for our families. This was my last hope, Nightwing. My last resort. I tried so hard to get the police involved but no one would answer. Do you know how long I searched for you though? How long would you have ignored my grand-daughter if I had not brought you here? How long?”

Dick doesn’t know. The room is getting darker. He can feel his shoulders sagging against the cold table, muscles trembling and collapsing.

“Sorry,” he rasps, because that sounds like the right thing to say. He is sorry about Maria Dunken and her poor grandma. He is sorry he didn’t stick with Kennedy Giavich longer. He is sorry he ever got into this situation. He’s paying the price for it now.

The old woman laughs wetly, Burtrum jerking in her grasp. “All will be forgiven if you tell me where Maria is. Everything will be okay. Just tell me. Please.”

Dick’s eyes are drifting back to the monitor, it’s dull glow all he can focus on. Its bright edges are just enough to chase away the luring darkness that’s clouding his eyesight. Jason is up, pacing, pounding against the door. Tim is picking through his belt, nimble fingers taking stock. Damian is staring right at him. Straight at the camera. Dick feels a smile tugging at his sore features. He doesn’t remember the last time Damian ever looked so small. He’s grown up, hasn’t he?

“Nightwing?” a voice calls to him, distracting him. “Where is she?”

Slowly, Dick glances back over to the petite and frail woman and her hulking figure of a son. They make a funny picture, contrasting spectacularly against each other, but their faces, even if one is covered, are filled with a dangerous kind of hope. Thrill. Expectance.

Suddenly, a headline crosses to the forefront of Dick’s mind. Two weeks ago, a body was found in an alleyway, stuffed underneath piles of garbage. It was a young girl, a Jane Doe, and she had blonde hair and blue eyes. She was strangled to death. Even now, the details are barely there, the news a similar story to all the other tragedies that happen and continue to happen. But still. Grandmother and son look at him, his bruised and broken body, and think he has the answers they seek.

He doesn’t. He doesn’t.

“She’s dead.”

Dick blinks and finds he doesn’t have the strength to open his eyes again.

~oOo~

Jason is about to punch the door for the fifth time when he hears something click on the other side.

Tim is trying to figure out how to get his communicator to work with little reception when he sees Jason take a step back from the door.

Damian is still staring at the weird indent in the ceiling when he realizes neither of the other occupants are moving.

They all stare at the heavy door as Jason carefully edges towards it, pressing a hand against the far side. There is little resistance and the obstruction that had trapped them for so long swings open. White light pours in and they have to squint against its brilliance. An empty hall reveals itself past the frame, and through the hall is another open door, the sounds of the city filtering beyond it.

Jason is the first to move, taking a step out of the small room that smelled of sweat and old heat. Tim follows, gathering his emptied belt and peering into the white expanse. Damian trails after, suspicion the only thing keeping him from fleeing out into the streets. No one stops them as they walk down the long, clean hallway. There are no doors, no windows, no other exits other than straight ahead and when they step out into the damp and smog filled air of Gotham, life dances before them.

They are free.

They are free and are forced to wonder: At what cost?

#bad things happen bingo #tw:blood #tw:torture #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #fanfic #prompt #tbh i wrote another version of this with about 10 pages before i decided i did not like it #maybe one day i'll try re-writing it but for now it's just going to be some random draft #uh i don't think dick died in this story? it's an open ending i suppose #so you can make up whatever ending you want #dick grayson whump #angst #in the good ending the boys find dick and take him home and he makes a full recovery with a thousand hugs and some nice hot chocolate #in the bad ending the boys dont find dick and he just kinda lays there and succumbs to his injuries #yikes that'd be real sad wouldn't it?#dick staring down at his broken body: haha don't die you're so sexy #dick looking at his feet: haha don't become lame and lose all feeling haha you're too sexy for that

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