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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Still working on the BB fic but have another snippet of that Stobin Timeloop AU. This can be read as stand-alone.

Steve Harrington snaps on a completely random Friday.

Well--not completely random. It's both the day of the Big Sportsball Game as well as Hellfire’s grand finale--but neither of those things should matter to Harrington.

Not that he needs a reason to lose his shit--Eddie’s long used to being threatened, insulted or outright attacked out of the blue.

It’s the whole reason he built up the persona he had--because the scarier he was, the more people left him alone.

Unfortunately it would appear that Hawkins fallen king hadn’t gotten the memo, given he seemed hellbent on kicking Eddie’s ass.

"Come on Harrington, we can talk about this." Eddie says, as he’s shoved back, scrambling for a way out, as the former jock gets up in his face.

The guy had called out his name the second he pulled into the parking lot (sans Buckley or any of the freshman they shared, which has Eddie's back up instantly) but Eddie had simply ignored him.

It was too early to deal with whatever had Harrington sounding like his ass was on fire.

Pity Steve had charged over instead, a look in his eyes that said whatever happened next was going to hurt.

Eddie carries a switchblade, but hes never had to use it before.

Had instead made an entire production about having it, including cleaning his nails with the blade or stabbing it into the cheap wood desks when a teacher stepped out of the room.

Had shouted that he’d pull it even when Harrington had charged him, but the guy didn't even blink.

Thus forcing Eddie to confront the fact that he really doesn’t want to stab someone.

Particularly not someone whose family has the police in their pockets (or did with Chief Hopper, though Eddie doesn’t doubt that the Harrington Hoard won’t immediately grab onto the next pig to get promoted.)

His panic leaves him flailing but somehow, (and unfairly Eddie may add) Steve seems to expect this.

Knows how to navigate it.

Eddie's back hits the metal of the van and he winces, expecting the hit, the pain.

If he can duck, if he can make it so the first punch only grazes him, he can grab his fucking knife and wave it around, see if that gets the asshole off him, except--

Instead of hitting him, Steve reaches past, to yank one of the van’s passenger doors open.

Herds Eddie inside, slamming the door behind him before snatching a fistful of Eddie's shirt and hauling him forward.

"What--" Eddie asked, confused, right before Steve smashes their lips together.

It's a hard kiss, practically a claim.

Steve kisses him like a drowning man gasps for air and Eddie can only fall into it, stunned.

(The stunned portion only lasts long enough for Eddie to blink before he's kissing back, hot and heavy.

He's been horny for Harrington since the asshole did a trick shot that showed off his ass and involved flipping Hagan off at the same time, sue him.)

Thinks as he does, that this is probably a trap.

That even if it isn't, then whatever it is Steve will make him regret it--even if he started it.

(Not like Eddie can claim he wasn’t enjoying it, either. He’s giving as good as he gets, dick quickly overwhelming any rational thought in his brain.

He clings to Steve like a lifeline, gasping when the jocks takes his bottom lip between his teeth and lightly drags it out, begging to be let into Eddie's mouth.

This isn't reality.

Cannot be reality, must be the start of a wet dream or some…vivid hallucinations because when Eddie grinds himself upwards into Steve, cock chasing friction, Steve presses back.)

"Fuck." Eddie moans when Steve finally releases him, panting up at the ceiling.

"Do I have your attention now?" Steve asks, voice raspy and Eddie finds himself able to die happy, because that tone is downright possessive.

"Yeah big boy, you have me--it." Eddie corrects himself fast, the words practically blending together.

Steve gives a strangled sort of laugh at that, and instead of getting up, presses his face down onto Munsons shoulder.

Eddie expects him to spring up at any moment. Declare insanity maybe, or far more likely threaten him about telling anybody.

If past bar hookups were an indicator, he'd throw a few slurs in for good measure.

(And those men had been at a gay bar, not Hawkins high school parking lot.)

It's nothing Eddie can't handle, but Steve…isn't doing any of them.

Instead his breathings gone weird, body trembling--and Eddie can see how Steve is holding himself up.

Like he's worried about Eddie taking his weight.

Slowly, carefully, he raises a hand to the back of Steve's hair.

He presses in slow, waiting to be yelled at, waiting to be rejected but never is.

"You can lay on me, Harrington, I won't break." Eddie tells him and knows his voice is too sweet when he says it.

Too lovey dovey, too awed.

Too late, for him to recover into a normal voice but fuck it. Not like Eddie was known for making smart decisions.

Nothing could have prepared him from the wounded noise Steve makes in return.

"Hey--hey." Eddie says, in rising panic. "I've got you."

"I know." Steve raises, and head coming up at last, cheeks red and tear stained but his eyes are clear.

Clear and fucking haunted.

"I know you do, Eds, but we don't have time. Which is why I need you to listen to me, because I'm not the Steve Harrington you know."

Utterly reeling from being called "Eds" it takes Eddie a moment to digest what was just said. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Steve sighs, a blast of frustration, and Eddie finds himself automatically scritching at Steve's head.

For some reason that seems to help.

"Your D&D finale’s tonight, right?"

"Yes." Eddie says slowly, his mind spinning uselessly, every coherent thought derailed by something new. The moles on Steve's neck. The way he shifts, how his leg is tangling with Eddie's, awkwardly because it's cramped as shit back here.

"I'm way past this. I've lived this. More than once."

Aha.

So it's a mental breakdown Steve's having.

"I'm still waiting for you to make sense, Harrington." Eddie says to buy himself time to think.

"Steve." The younger man corrects and he's holding Eddie's gaze. "And I'm not making sense because saying it sounds stupid."

Eddie can't help the little derisive laugh that breaks out of him. "I hear a lot of stupid things, one more won't kill me."

"I know, you're famous for your rants about them." Steve snarks back, but it's teasing.

Friendly and familiar, like he's used to bantering.

Not just that, but bantering with Eddie, specifically.

He doesn't know what to do with that, so he tugs a little on Harrington's too perfect hair.

Demands an explanation with that little jolt--and somehow, Steve doesn't haul off and punch him for it. Instead a shudder rollers through him, eyes closing just a touch and--Oh.

Oh, Harri-Steve, likes it.

"I'm from the future." Steve says, which does indeed sound stupid.

Eddie blinks. "What?"

"Robin and I are stuck in a time loop-- we keep living this week over and over." He continues, only now he's leaning his head against Eddie's arm.

"Every single time, you take the longest to get on board and buy in, and every single time I fail to get everyone out alive so fuck it. Fuck all of it--I'm speedrunning this part."

Oh this is beyond breakdown.

This is 'took something he shouldn't have and then some' and Eddie knows how to trip sit.

He just…doesn't want to get punched for being the first person Steve released his repressed homosexual urges out on, drugged or not.

(The fact Steve's still letting Eddie pet him like a cat absolutely does not have anything to do with it, no sir.)

because his mouth bypasses his rational mind most days and today is no exception.

"Okay." Eddie says. "Let's say you are from the future and not shot up with what I'm assuming you were told was steroids and was very much not."

Steve rolls his eyes.

He never bothered to dry his cheeks and Eddie does it now for him, with the hand that's not in Steve's hair.

Steve leans into it, which somehow feels like the craziest part of it all.

"Prove to me that you're from the future." Eddie challenges.

"Oh the kissing wasn't enough? Fine." Steve bitches, before rattling off facts like he's blowing through answers on Jeopardy.

"You call your guitar sweetheart and apologize for cheating on it anytime you use your other guitar, who is named Arwin. Your favorite mug in Wayne's collection is the Garfield one and you can play Master of Puppets by heart even though the album came out last month."

"And this is coming from the future and not one of the freshmen we somehow share custody over…?" Eddie says, even while alarm shoots down his spine.

Had he told the kids about his Garfield mug?

That his acoustic was named Arwin…?

He suddenly couldn't recall but that made the most sense. Had to make sense.

Steve huffs, annoyed.

Its very cute, and Eddie bites his own lip hard to keep himself focused.

A finger dips under Eddie's collar, wrapping gently around the chain that sits there before he can react.

"This," Steve emphasizes with a gentle tug, "was your mom's. She gave it to you the morning of the accident."

Eddie's world stops.

Not the same way it stopped when Steve kissed him, it stopped in a way they felt like ice had been dumped over his head. A flash freeze that squeezed his chest, claws digging into his exposed heart.

The only person who knew about the pick was Wayne.

No one else, not even his band, his closest friends, knew the origin of it.

To tell someone that, to say it was not only his mothers but that shed given it to him the morning before some drunk asshole t boned her shitty, shitty car and killed her-- was akin to handing over step by step instructions on how to hurt him.

Eddie would go to the ends of the earth for that pick, and he had never let anyone know just how important it was to him.

Except Steve Harrington, apparently.

"Okay." Eddie says, "Okay, you're from the future. You said--" He pauses, swallows.

Fights down his disbelief even as the dots connect, because why else would he tell anyone about his pick?

The only reason he can possibly conjure is if he needed someone to give it back to Wayne, because he, for whatever reason, couldn't.

"You said you're reliving this because you can't get everyone out alive?" Eddie managed to get out, grappling with the knowledge that "everyone" included him.

"Yeah."

"Are you also my boyfriend or something?"

"If we can make it there, then yes." Steve says, slightly hysterical. "And really? You're finally gonna believe me?"

"Are you arguing here for me to believe you or not, Steve, you're giving conflicting signals--"

"No it's--you've fought me on this man. I've tried every method of getting you with us and every time you argue until the bats show up but one kiss and you're all for it?"

"Give yourself some credit, it was a grand slam of a kiss.” Eddie replies, because it was by far and large the best kiss of his life.

He’d follow Steve to hell and back if more kisses like that were on the table, mental breakdown or no.

Steve snorts at him, a half-hysterical sound. “Noted.” He says.

Then; “You believe me though?”

“Not at all!” Eddie chirps with a wobbly grin that betrays him. “But on the off chance you’re right the uh…the thing about my pick…” He trails off self consciously.

“I should have guessed that was what it. You only ever tell me that when you’re dying.” Steve fills in for him, and it’s weird, to know that for two seconds Steve Harrington apparently read his face and correctly guessed what he was thinking about.

Abruptly decides he doesn’t want to think of his impending doom any longer.

“So how about we skip the dying part and focus on the boyfriend part?” He says, poking at Steve’s cheek.

Steve makes a face at him, before grabbing a his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“We gotta fix this mess first, Munson.” He tells him gently, looking up at him through his lashes and oh, that is a look Eddie will keep for the rest of his life.

“Lead on, lassie.” Eddie tells him to hide how dazed he feels. “Let’s go save the world and shit.”

With one final kiss to the palm of Eddie’s hand, Steve does.

#steddie #actual steddie for once lol #miscommunication #stobin timeloop #this starts off kinda dub con but quickly turns #steves just desperate lool #eddie munson #eddie is like those owls who puff themselves up to look mean #robin is gonna be equally annoyed the kissing is what finally gets eddie on board fast #steve harrington #0o0 fanfics #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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nervousgardenerkid · 1 year

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We hold each other

a/n: tomorrow is my first day at my new school orientation and i wrote this instead of sleeping BSJNSISJ BUT!!! can we please talk about miguel being needy?? i know most (if not all) of us see him as a dom or at least someone who likes to be in charge….but the thought of him CRUMBLING underneath your touch???? walk with me yall… i hope you all enjoy this!! as always happy reading and credit to the gif owner! wish my luck for tomorrow pls

THIS IS A SMUT!! if you are a minor DNI!!! this is ur warning!

warnings: unprotected sex, (wrap before u tap) miguel being needy(ish), lots of spanish phrases and stuff, not proofread (that's a warning itself), all lowercase is intentional, that's all i can think of rn yall im ngl

reader doesn't use any pronouns but miguel does call them "mami" and reader has fem presenting anatomy, reader also doesn't have any specific racial qualities!

“and peter….pinche cabrón, don't get me started about him cariño, we're lucky that lego spiderman got there when he did.”

“i know miggy” you sigh out as your hands work and massage his muscles, trying your best to get all the knots out of his body. he groans and leans more into your touch, his hands flying up to massage his temples.

“i just, i need them to listen to me.”

a hum leaves your mouth as you place a soft kiss between his shoulder blades, smiling when you can practically see his worries melt away the second your lips meet his skin.

“you work so hard, don't you guapo?” you whispered in his ear.

he throws his head back to look at you, grunting and nodding his head.

“pobrecito, you're just trying to take care of them, yeah?”

it's pathetic and he knows it is, but he can't help the way his eyes close and how frantically he's nodding his head. you get him, you understand him in ways nobody else can and he loves you for it.

you leave your spot from behind the couch and settle into his lap, gently pushing his hair out of his face.

“who takes care of you then baby?”

he shakes his head, almost as if he's silently saying no one, but that's not true. you both know how far from the truth that is.

“want me to take care of you miggy?” you pull away from him and gently grab his chin making him look at you. “want me to make you feel good?”

“please” he practically whines out. his hands flying to your hips as he leans in close trying to close the space between you both.

thats all it takes for you to put your hands on his chest, your lips against his as you slowly push him back to relax onto the couch.

“pobrecito miguel,” you whisper against his lips.

“just wanna be taken care of don't you?”

he nods his head, bucking his hips up to meet yours as your lips graze the side of his neck.

“you work too hard miguel. let me do the work tonight, yeah?”

a broken groan leaves his lips when he sees you sink down onto your knees smiling up at him as you place a kiss against the bulge that's straining against his spider-suit. you giggle quietly as your hands come up to gently massage at his thighs, causing him to buck his hips up against the air above him.

“so eager baby. you need this don't you?”

he nods his head again, parts of his suits already starting to disappear.

“please.”

you shush him, your hands playing with the waistband of his boxers as you slowly pull them off his legs.

“it's okay, guapo. i'll take care of you now.”

he doesn't have time to comprehend what you're saying because your hand is already wrapped around him, stroking him slowly. he moans quietly when he sees your tongue leave your mouth and wet your lips.

“f-fuck, just like that cariño.” he whimpers out when you lean down and kiss the head of his dick. he feels his eyes widen and nearly roll to the back of his head when you start taking him down your throat.

“w-wait amor- ah!” his claws are out and digging into the couch.

“‘s t-too big f-for you-”

you roll your eyes at his words and quickly shove him down your throat, looking up at him with tears pricking your eyes as you gag around him and try and catch your breath.

miguel throws his head back, claws ripping the couch cushions apart as he feels your throat close around him. you pull off him with a pop and panting trying to catch your breath.

“never too big for me querido.”

you lean down again kissing his thighs as you stroke him.

“the perfect size for me. so big and pretty just for me.”

miguel groans at the feeling of your mouth on him again. your hand reaching for his shaky one as you place it on top of your head silently asking him to set the pace for you. he lifts his head up slightly, a small smiling making it's way onto his features as both of his hands cup your cheeks and start bobbing your head back and forth.

“aye, que linda mi amor- fuck!”

you moan around him as his thrusts become quicker.

“look so pretty like this baby…”

a gag leaves your mouth as he hits the back of your throat, chuckling lightly.

“‘s okay baby, you can take it, así. so good for me.

his hands release you and you pull away from him coughing a bit as you try and slow your breathing.

miguel quickly reaches forward and brings you into his lap, kissing you passionately as his hands reach under your (his) shirt gripping at the skin he's been dying to feel. a growl falls from his lips as he rips the shirt off of you and roughly tugs at your shorts.

“how much do you like these shorts?” he mumbles against your lips.

“i can live without them.”

a yelp escapes from you as the cold air meets the bare part of your lower body.

“i'll buy you new underwear too,” he pants out as he leaves kisses and small bites on your neck. his hips buck up to meet yours but you shake your head and grab onto his wandering hands, pinning them down against his side.

“i'm taking care of you.”

you reach down between you both, the head of his dick teasing your entrance as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.

“please,” he whines out. “take care of me mi alma.”

moans leave your lips while a string of curse words in english and spanish fall from miguel’s lips. his hands grip onto the couch cushions once again before you reach for them and interlock your fingers with his.

“feels so good miguel.” you moan out, bouncing slowly on top of him.

his head falls onto your shoulder as his hands gently squeeze yours.

“fuck, keep riding me like that cariño.”

he lets go of one of your hands, bringing his hand down and smacking your ass. a tired smile dancing on his lips when you arch your back into him.

your thighs feel like they're on fire but when you look down at miguel and see the blush on his cheeks and see how fucked out he looks you decide to ignore it. moans leave your mouth when miguel reaches up to play with your boobs, his tongue occasionally wrapping itself around your nipple.

“fuck miguel!” your hand falls between your bodies, messily rubbing circular motions on your clit making you clench around miguel. he groans loudly and finally lifts his hips up to meet yours.

“que rico mami, feels so good.” a breathy laugh fills your ears.

“i can feel you tightening around me- oh my god.” his head falls onto your shoulders and his hands grip your hips, holding you still as he thrusts up into you.

“feels so good cariño. fuck, you’re gonna cum? huh?”

you moan loudly and nod your head frantically, your hands flying to his shoulders as he holds onto you.

“just like that baby, good job- fuck.”

your hips are grinding down on his as you moan and tighten your grip on his shoulders.

“‘m close miguel!”

his lips are all over your neck and chest before you hear him panting in your ear.

“i know querida, fuck. c-can feel your pretty pussy clenching around me.”

he moans and then lets out a chuckle as he drags his fangs across your neck.

“cum for me amor, wanna feel you make a m-mess all over me-”

a loud groan leaves his mouth as his grip tightens around your hips when he feels you clenching around him and making a mess all over him.

“good job baby,”

he grunts out, his hips slamming against yours as he chases his own high.

“s-so fucking good for me, making a mess all over me- fuck! s-so fucking wet and t-tight.”

his lips slam into yours and you both swallow each other's moans as he fills you up, his thrusts becoming weak and messy before he holds you still against him. you giggle softly when you feel him smile and pant against your lips leaning up just a bit so he can gently kiss you.

“let's get you some water mi vida,” he whispers softly, pulling away from you and moving a strand of hair out of your face.

“i'm not done with you just yet.”

#miguel o'hara atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara across the spiderverse #atsv fluff #atsv smut #atsv x reader #atsv imagines

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chahnniesroom · 1 year

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tenderness | chapter 9: a time to learn

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 6.8k

chapter warnings: injury recovery, lots of emotions happening

a/n: no words can describe how difficult this chapter was to write haha i apologise for some of the transitions between scenes and also for the fact that i did not proofread more than a cursory skim.

i am not a doctor and i did minimal research on anything medical related

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

Chan’s not a doctor and he’s never wanted to be one. But the longer that he spends in the hospital, the more he wishes there was something he could do to help. He knows that in a way, his presence is helping. The doctor tells him that for injuries, a soulmate bond is actually beneficial because sufficient Charge can increase healing times.

The doctor also explains that the more serious injury is the initial stab wound. The blade had damaged Y/n’s liver, which had required surgery and now demands constant monitoring. It was the main reason that Y/n would have to stay in the hospital for an extended period of time. While the second wound was larger and required more stitches, it was fairly shallow and was expected to heal without any issues.

As expected, there’s various bruises from the fall, but what surprises Chan is that he’s told Y/n is suffering from a mild concussion. When he had watched the footage that he had saved from social media, he could see that Y/n may have hit her head, but it hadn’t seemed that hard.

It means that Chan hasn’t left the hospital yet. It doesn’t really help that Y/n was specifically brought to the hospital that her father owns and that she’s situated in one of the nicest rooms available. With a large private bathroom, a separate room that has a few couches and low tables to entertain guests, and a large bed that’s almost more comfortable than the one Chan has at home, there’s no reason to leave. Yonghwan has been going back to the dorms to collect clothes and other personal items, like Chan’s laptop and some equipment. After a few days, the boys are allowed to visit too, although only in small groups and for short periods of time.

Chan kind of hates the medications that Y/n is put on. He knows that she needs them to deal with the pain, to protect her from infection, it's just difficult to witness how they make her woozy and extremely tired, drifting in and out of consciousness. When she is awake, her thoughts are scattered, she can’t concentrate for long periods of time, and she spends most of the time watching Chan as he works or dozing.

It's a relief when she's finally weaned off of the ones that have the worst side effects.

Although she gets her phone back pretty soon after waking, Y/n doesn’t really touch it until her doctor lets her know that her concussion has healed and she’s been cleared to look at screens without any limitations. Chan has helped her with messaging some of her friends and family, but she seems pleased to have full access to her phone again. Chan leaves her to catch up on everything, taking out his laptop and opening up a track that he’s been trying half-heartedly to finish a first draft of.

He gets pulled away from his work a couple hours later when Y/n calls his name. She’s biting at her lip and staring with a furrowed brow at something on her phone. He immediately sets aside his laptop and turns to face her, trying not to worry.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Did you- I saw-” Y/n takes a second to gather herself and then flips her phone to show him what she’s looking at. It’s a Twitter fanpage, dedicated to Chan’s Bubble subscription. The last tweets are the updates to his profile picture, background photo, name, and status.

He did it in a fit of anger, knowing it was about as much as he could do without getting in trouble with the company. He wouldn’t dare send any messages about the incident, especially ones that could be twisted the wrong way and end up hurting Y/n, but he couldn’t just sit and pretend everything was okay.

So he deleted it all. Or, rather as much as he could. Replacing the pictures with solid black, leaving the status line empty. He didn’t have as much freedom with his name, but left it as “찬“ and nothing more. He hadn’t sent anything since then, either.

The other members hadn’t changed anything on their profile, but they too had been subdued in their messaging. The first couple of days, they did nothing. After that, Changbin, Jisung, and Felix joined Chan in the continued radio silence. Hyunjin had sent pictures of the sunset, when it was Y/n’s favourite time of the day and the clouds were painted pink against the blue background of the sky. Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin had messaged only a couple times since then, reminders for Stays to eat well, get lots of rest, and stay safe.

There hadn’t been an official statement released by the company, but news of the incident had spread like wildfire.

“And yesterday was Sunday,” Y/n says slowly. “You were here the whole time, what about Channie’s Room?”

“What about it?”

“You didn’t do it?” When Chan just shrugs in response, Y/n’s brow creases like she’s trying to figure out some sort of puzzle. “What? But you… You always do it. Did the company tell you that you can't?”

“No, they didn't have to. I already let them know I wasn't going to."

"Then why?"

“I didn’t want to. I don’t want to,” Chan says sullenly, even though the explanation makes him feel like a toddler who doesn’t want to share their toys.

“What do you mean? It’s- You promised Stays! Here you can go now, just go to your studio and do a short live. If this is some sort of roundabout punishment for what happened-”

“I don’t want to,” Chan repeats. “All they’re going to do is spam the chat with questions about what happened. I don’t want to deal with that and honestly I don’t know if I can go through that without blowing up on them.”

"But-"

"Is it really so hard to believe that I have had other priorities the past few days? That I don't want to have to pretend that everything is okay?"

Y/n seems to soften at that. Chan reaches out and he catches her hand in his, mindful of the tape and IV that’s attached to it. The Charge warms between them.

“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s-” she hesitates for a moment. “I’m glad that you’re taking a break. Sorry if it felt like I was pressuring you.”

“You weren’t. Everything that I’m doing, it’s my decision. I know everything has been pretty overwhelming lately, but you’re-”

Before he can finish, the door to their room slides open and a nurse steps in to serve them dinner.

“What were you going to say?” Y/n asks once they’re alone again.

“I don’t remember anymore,” Chan lies. “So it probably wasn’t that important. Let’s eat.”

Chan’s almost glad for the interruption. The moment is gone now and Chan’s just now realising that he has no idea how Y/n would react if he had said what he wanted. That she was his biggest priority right now. That he cares about her. That he would do anything for her.

He’ll do that later, when they’re at home. When everything has calmed down.

—

Chan wakes to the loud smack of someone’s hand against a table. His face is burrowed into the soft fabric covering Y/n’s shoulder, his arm is wrapped around her waist, and the whole length of his body relaxed by the warm thrum of the Charge. He cracks open one eye and, after seeing that neither Y/n nor Eunsung, who was the source of the noise, have seemed to notice, quickly closes it to feign sleep.

When Eunsung speaks, his tone is exasperated, like he’s had this conversation multiple times before.

“Are you even listening to yourself? You can’t keep doing this. You have to talk to him about it,” he insists. “The doctor said you have acute fatigue and the only reason it’s getting better is because the two of you are practically glued together right now. The second that he starts going back to schedules, it’s going to be the same as it was before.”

“I was doing fine before,” Y/n defends herself. “Things just got so busy with all the concerts, I forgot to eat enough. As long as I make sure that I’m getting enough calories, it makes up for the Charge. I promise, I'll make sure to take better care of myself."

Chan has no clue what they’re talking about. Acute fatigue? Y/n not eating enough? Chan hasn’t heard anything on these before.

"I don't think you understand. It's not about you doing things to take better care of yourself, it's about him not letting you take care of yourself. If you Charged for at least 6 hours a day then you wouldn't have to worry about eating more than you used to. You shouldn't have to be making up for anything," Eunsung argues.

"Listen, Eunsung-oppa," she says. "I know you're saying this because you're concerned, but I know what I'm doing. This is… This is bigger than just Chan-ssi and I. He's not just my soulmate, he's the leader of Stray Kids, a producer for 3RACHA. It's- The work that he does- What I see on Twitter, the comments on Youtube, the posts on community. He has the power to reach so many people and make lives better. And he does. He’s such a good person. How can I do anything but support him in any way I can? Even if that means letting him push himself without stepping in, then I'll do it. I trust that he knows his own limits."

“And if that means him ignoring your limits?”

“Eunsung-oppa-” Y/n protests.

"You've talked to him about it," Eunsung interrupts her, clearly able to read something in her tone of voice.

"Yeah, I- I understand how you feel, being on that side of it. I thought that I could convince him, but it turns out that he convinced me instead."

"But the conversation you were having, it was about him taking care of himself instead of you prioritising your needs, wasn't it?" he presses. Y/n confirms, but it sounds reluctant.

“He didn’t want to hear it. He was… I don’t know. I don’t want to say what he said to me.”

“And he never brought it up again?”

“He did, kind of. He said sorry the next day. And I know he’s sorry. I know some of the things that he said were just in the heat of the moment. I get it, I really do. He was stressed, tired, we probably weren’t getting enough Charge, even then. But… It hurt. What he said,” Y/n says, her voice small. “What he really meant. It still hurts a little, every time I think about it. Every time I see him.”

"Sometimes you two are too similar. You’re both just pretending you’re fine, but you’re not. I know Chan, maybe not as well as you, but in a different way. He’s not the type to just let this type of thing slide. As much as I hate him right now for making you hurt, if he doesn’t know that you’re hurting, then there’s no way that things will be fixed. I think you need to talk again, if he cares about you at all then he wouldn't just let this go."

"I think you're overestimating our relationship a bit."

"What? Even after the past few months, you guys aren't close?"

“I’m not delusional, I never had fantasies of us immediately falling in love like in the movies or shows, I just,” she shrugs with the shoulder the Chan wasn’t curled up against. “I don’t know, I just thought that we could be friends or something.”

“You wouldn't even consider yourself to be friends?” Eunsung says in a low voice.

“Actually, at one point I did think we were friends… or maybe more,” Y/n admits with a hollow laugh. “I was wrong. His attitude keeps changing, I can’t keep track of it. One second he’s annoyed at me for nagging him and the next he’s carrying me to bed because I fell asleep on the couch. But wherever we’re arguing, it feels like it’s always my fault. And I know, I know that I’m hard to be around. It’s just hard. The moments of… care, they were an illusion. It was all fake, like kids playing house. He can tolerate me of course, but in the end, I'm just someone he works with.”

"You don't think that if he were to hear what you're saying, he would be sad?" Eunsung asks. Y/n stays silent for a while.

“I don't know. What he said to me. I thought a lot about it. I- I want to make his life better, but I think… I think I make it worse. I don’t understand why we’re soulmates, I can think of a million people who would be better for him than me,” she finally confesses, voice sounding wet.

Eunsung shifts forward, but before he can speak, a nurse knocks on the door and lets herself in. It’s enough noise that Chan takes it as an opportunity to pretend to wake up. When Y/n notices, she looks back towards the nurse and quickly sits up straighter so that Chan's arm naturally falls away from where it’s wrapped around her.

“I think you should go to the company, Chan-ssi,” Y/n suggests after the nurse has finished redressing her wound and has left. Her voice is back to normal, upbeat even, and if Chan hadn't been awake then he wouldn't have been able to tell she had just been in a heavy conversation. It’s scary how easily she can mask her emotions. “I don’t want you to fall behind because of all the time you’ve been spending here. Eunsung is already heading there, he can give you a ride.”

“What am I, a chauffeur?” Eunsung mutters, but he stands up and gathers his things without waiting for an answer. “Come on, let’s go.”

Normally, Chan would protest being ordered around, but at this point he’s just grateful to have some space to process what he just heard. He knows that Minho and Jisung were planning to visit soon and that Felix would be dropping by shortly after, so at least he feels somewhat comfortable leaving Y/n alone. He feels lightheaded and… bad in a way that he can’t describe. It's different than when he first found out that Y/n was hurt. Now it's almost like he’s dissociating, but worse because having an out-of-body experience would be better than the heavy press of emotions that he feels now. It’s clogging up his airways and all he can do is focus on following Eunsung out of the room.

Chan hasn’t had many opportunities to interact with Eunsung, but he knows for sure that they were never as tense as they are right now. It’s understandable though, after what he just heard. When Chan starts toward the lane where he usually gets picked up and dropped off, Eunsung instead steers him toward the parkade.

“This way, superstar. Unlike you, I actually have the freedom to drive myself.” Chan barely notices the thinly veiled jab, he’s still reeling from the conversation. He can’t think of a comeback and really, doesn’t feel like he deserves to give a rebuttal.

When they finally stop in front of a car, Chan catches himself right before reaching for the back car door instead of the one to sit shotgun.

The pair sit in silence for the first half of the ride, until Eunsung finally speaks up.

“You know, you don’t deserve her,” Eunsung says, eyes trained on the road ahead.

“And you do?” Chan fires back, thinking of all the rumours he’s heard from the rest of the staff, the giggles he hears whenever Eunsung interacts with Y/n. Although his guilt is creeping up and clouding his thoughts, his first instincts are to feel defensive.

Y/n is his soulmate, not Eunsung’s.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, I’ve seen how close the two of you are.” He tries hard to not sound too accusatory, but instead his words come out as overly bitter.

"Yeah, we're friends."

"And is that all you want to be?"

In response, Eunsung just laughs incredulously. “What? Even you thought- You think that I like Y/n? I’m-” He can’t even finish his thoughts before he starts to laugh again. “Of course I like her, but she’s like a sister to me.”

“Of course you would say that-”

“I’m married, Chan."

"What?" Chan exclaims. "But, but everyone was saying you- I thought- Who are you married to?"

"Saerom. I've definitely mentioned her before, I know for sure that Y/n has too."

“Oh,” he says dumbly, “I thought- I thought Saerom was the name of your dog.”

"What?!" Eunsung turns to gape at Chan.

“How was I supposed to know? You said you have to take her on walks otherwise she gets too restless, you talk about buying her treats! You said she doesn’t like it when you’re travelling for too long, it sounds like how Berry gets when the family goes on vacation. Just because she has a human name doesn't mean she is a human. I've never seen a picture of her either."

“Oh, I cannot wait to tell Y/n about this.” Eunsung continues to laugh while Chan hides his face in his hands. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire. He’s relieved that Eunsung isn’t secretly in love with Y/n but also mortified that he thought his wife was a dog. At this point, opening the car door and flinging himself out doesn’t sound like a bad idea to get himself out of this conversation.

“You don’t wear a ring,” he says, probably digging himself further into the hole he’s currently in.

In response, Eunsung hooks a finger under the collar of his shirt and pulls out a chain, a ring dangling on the end of it. They turn into the company parking lot and Eunsung kills the engine, turning to face Chan directly.

“Chan-ssi,” he says seriously. “I know that there are rumours about a relationship between Y/n and I. She knows about them too. I’m not deaf to the chatter or the way they react when we’re together. Just, is it really so bad if people suspect that the two of us are soulmates? And I’m not saying this because I enjoy all the rumours. It’s because I know that they mask any sort of interactions that you have with her. If any other staff finds out that you’ve been visiting her in the hospital, they wouldn’t think anything of it other than you being concerned because she’s a manager and you were right there when it happened.”

Even though Chan doesn’t like the idea, he knows that Eunsung is right. It’s safer this way. He just has to get used to swallowing the possessive part of him that wants to publicly declare his soulmate bond. He can do this if it means protecting Y/n.

“You’re right,” Chan says quietly.

“I know all of this must be hard for you and even harder if you didn’t know about Saerom. Just know, we’d never do anything outside of being friends, I promise. If you don’t trust me, then at least trust Y/n. And,” he hesitates for a moment. “I know you heard our conversation earlier.”

“What?”

“I saw when you woke up. You’re not as good of an actor as you think you are, but luckily for you, I don’t think Y/n noticed.”

“I- I really messed things up, didn’t I?” Chan says, feeling defeated.

“I’ll be honest, it’s going to be difficult, fixing your relationship. Y/n is very independent. It’s definitely one of her strengths, but it’s also a big weakness. She doesn’t ask for help, even if she needs it and she’s very hard on herself. You know her family, she’s used to doing things on her own. She’s trying her best with this whole soulmate situation and she was really opening up. She trusted you.”

The past tense in his sentence shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

“You hurt her,” Eunsung continues. “But I know Y/n will forgive you. She cares about you, a lot. If it wasn’t obvious by… everything that has happened so far. You just have to talk to her.”

“I- Thank you, Eunsung,” Chan finally says. “Thank you for being there for her, for helping with all of… this. I’m sorry.”

“You’re a good person, Chan-ssi. I want things to work out between the two of you.” Abruptly, Eunsung’s tone hardens. “But if you make a habit of hurting her, just know that sasaengs will be the least of your worries.”

—

Chan forces himself to try and be productive for at least an hour in his studio before resigning himself to the reality that he wouldn’t be able to get anything done with how distracted he is. He spends the whole time wishing that he was back at the hospital.

Right as he’s about to call it a day, Jisung- who has just arrived after visiting Y/n and assures him that she’s still doing okay- and Changbin join him. They’ve actually been getting work done in the past few days and quickly run through the progress that they’ve made. Even with their presence, Chan’s attention span is practically non-existent. Everything seems to remind him of Y/n.

He ends up staying until the sun starts to set. When Changbin and Jisung start to discuss dinner options, he takes the opportunity to pack up his things.

“Hyung, are you not joining us?” Changbin asks.

“Sorry-” Chan starts saying.

“Hyung just wants to go and see Y/n again. He doesn’t care about us anymore,” Jisung whines playfully.

“That’s not true!” Chan says indignantly.

“You don’t have to lie, just make it up to us.”

“Anything,” Chan agrees.

“Have dinner back at the dorms with us tomorrow,” Jisung says instantly. “You need to bring new clothes to the hospital anyway, you can save Yonghwan-hyung a trip this way.”

Chan realises this was his plan all along and reluctantly agrees. Logically, he knows that nothing will happen to Y/n while he’s away, he just feels better being able to see it with his own eyes.

—

When he gets back to the hospital, he’s surprised to find Y/n just staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She doesn’t react to the sound of the door opening or Chan’s greeting while he had closed it again. He approaches her cautiously, afraid of startling her, but still manages to make her jump when he gets into her field of vision.

“Oh!” she says breathlessly, putting a hand to her chest. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were back.” She automatically smiles at him.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, just had a weird day,” she says in that same strange voice she had back in Japan. Chan is starting to realise it means that she’s hiding something.

“Y/n-”

“Maybe it’s just because you were gone. Not to be clingy or anything, I’m glad that you were finally able to go to the company and get some real work done, but I’ve gotten used to having you attached to my side,” she jokes. It’d be convincing if her voice was more steady, if her smile reached her eyes.

“Uhm,” Chan says, not quite sure if he should pursue the topic further or go along with Y/n’s attempt to gloss over it. “I’m sorry, I promised that I’d go back for dinner tomorrow.”

Y/n rolls her eyes at that. “You don’t have to apologise for that! I’m glad that you’re finally getting to see them after being cooped up here. They're your family, you have to spend time with them.”

“I wasn’t forced to stay here though! I want to be here, I want to be with you. You're my family too,” Chan says earnestly.

Y/n's lips press tightly together at that and she breaks eye contact.

“How about this, Eunsung-oppa was planning to come by tomorrow sometime anyway. He said that he’d bring me some non-hospital food and I couldn’t say no,” she says instead of responding to Chan’s comment. “Felix wanted to come by again too, so you can go home at the same time as him. I’ll tell Eunsung-oppa to come by around dinnertime so you don’t feel like you’re leaving me behind, is that okay?”

“Okay, but promise me that if anything happens then just call me and I’ll come back.”

“I promise.”

—

Dinner with the members is rowdy as usual, maybe even moreso. Chan doesn’t think much of it, happy to have a distraction from his thoughts, until he takes a second too long to respond to someone and catches a couple of concerned glances. He realises that the boys are being overly rambunctious to keep him present. It warms his heart and makes him feel guilty at the same time.

After eating, Jisung slumps onto the couch, stretching out so that his feet hang over the side. Chan joins him, smothering him in affection before he leaves for the night. He knows that Jisung has been more anxious than usual these past few days and although he wishes he could do more to help him, his biggest priority at the moment is Y/n.

“Minho-hyung and I met Y/n’s family yesterday,” Jisung says, voice muffled from being pressed against Chan.

Chan bolts upright, accidentally elbowing Jisung in the process, forcing a groan out of him.

“What? When?” he demands. His mind is racing, finally able to sort out Y/n’s strange behaviour when he had last seen her.

“I forgot to mention it at the studio, but when I was visiting, they also showed up. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but they seemed alright.”

“Just alright?” Chan prompts him, trying to calm his heart rate which has spiked.

“Uhm, I mean her parents were very… polite. They spoke to Y/n privately so I just met them briefly.”

“Where did you go?”

“Her brother, Siwon, I forgot he’s a doctor too. He took me to a private lounge they had, there weren’t any people around which was good. He seemed nice, concerned about Y/n.”

“Well not that concerned,” Chan mutters darkly, “since he didn’t even bother to visit until yesterday.”

Jisung stares at him, clearly shocked by the sudden vitriol.

“Sorry,” Chan says, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up wildly. “It’s just been a lot these days, my emotions are everywhere.”

“It’s okay, hyung,” Jisung says cautiously. “It’s been a lot for all of us, but mostly you and Y/n.”

Chan hums in agreement, but still feels bad.

“You can go back now if you want,” Jisung prompts him.

“What? No, I-”

“I can tell you’re distracted,” he says. “Go, we’ll still be here when she’s better.”

Chan goes.

—

The route to the hospital and through the back entrance is becoming more familiar by now. Chan accidentally startles Y/n when he opens the door to her room, but her expression quickly settles to one of relief upon seeing him. Now that he’s looking closely, he can recognize the same, strained smile that he first saw at Chuseok.

She shuffles to the side of the bed and lifts the blankets so that Chan can sit beside her. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer.

“The boys all missed you,” he says in greeting. “Dinner wasn’t the same with just the eight of us.”

“Oh come on-”

“You’re part of us, now. I told you before. And-” Chan hesitates for a moment. “I heard that your parents visited.” Y/n stiffens for a second, before relaxing again.

“Ah, Jisungie, the little snitch,” she says, the fondness in her voice opposing her words. “Yes, they dropped by while you were away.”

“And?”

“Well, my eomoni was telling me that it was a sign that I should quit my job, get out of the industry, said I was stupid for getting between the sasaeng on you, the usual. But I got my abeoji to look over my files, when I asked he said that I can be released tomorrow!” she says excitedly, smiling so much that her eyes curve into crescents. “I get to go home!”

It’s clear that things with her parents didn’t go as well as Y/n is projecting, but Chan is too much of a coward to push more. Somehow that righteous anger that had filled him when he had talked to Jisung has been replaced with uncertainty. He doesn’t want to get into yet another disagreement with Y/n now that he knows what she truly thinks of him. Or rather, what she thinks that he thinks of her. He needs to focus on bringing them together instead of allowing them to drift further apart. He vows to bring this topic up another time, when things are better between them.

“That’s great!” he replies, but even as he says it, he can’t help the nervousness that starts to form in his stomach at the thought. He is happy that she’s been healing well and will definitely be reassured to have her back home, but until now, the hospital has served as a sort of protective bubble for Y/n, shielding her from the outside world. He has the irrational sense that keeping her here longer is the same as keeping her safe for longer.

—

“Bang Chan-nim?” The doctor that has been in charge of Y/n’s care steps into the room and glances at Y/n, who is busy packing away her things. All morning she’s been in a good mood, enthusiastically talking about what she plans to do once she’s back at the dorms. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course!” he replies. He tells himself that everything is alright, but can't stop himself from running his hands through his mess of hair, palms prickling with nerves.

The doctor leads Chan to his office and smiles at him gently, like he’s about to break some bad news and needs to make sure that Chan doesn’t also break. It makes things worse, Chan’s stomach starts to churn, his mind racing.

“This might be a difficult conversation, but you may already be aware.” The doctor starts slowly. “Y/n-nim works with idols, right? In the entertainment industry?”

“Yes,” Chan agrees, but he’s confused. Did someone leak the news of Y/n’s injuries? Is there a sasaeng that’s been visiting the hospital? He wants to pull out his phone and immediately call the company and force them to do more damage control, but the doctor continues.

“These days, there is a lot of pressure for young women, especially those who work with or follow idols, to fit into certain beauty standards.” Chan nods. He’s seen countless people destroy their bodies to try and lose more and more weight and knows how devastating it is, but he still doesn’t understand the point of this conversation.

“I’m concerned about Y/n-nim”-the doctor interrupts Chan’s thoughts-“When she came to the hospital, we were focused only on her injuries, but throughout her treatment, we have noticed that she is underweight. The testing that we’ve done tells us she has not been getting enough of what her body needs. Not getting enough food, not enough charge, and not enough rest. She's showing signs that she was becoming malnourished.

“It’s not uncommon to see those with soulmates, especially young women, take advantage of the bond, reducing charging time and saying that they will eat more instead. They often eat a normal amount so that it doesn’t concern anyone, but it’s not nearly enough to make up for the missing charge. Both of you have probably been more sensitive lately. It wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve also noticed yourself being irritable or having rapid mood changes these past few days."

Chan can't do anything but stare as the doctor pulls out a small packet of paper. His pulse roars in his ears and all he can feel is guilt, pooling in his stomach and creeping towards his extremities. He feels nauseous. This is his fault.

He thinks back to all the nights where he stayed in the studio, just a little bit longer to finish a track, sliding into bed to charge for only a few hours before they had to wake up. Of the extra meals, protein drinks, snacks he had consumed that he thought nothing of, too used to the varying diets of the rest of the members depending on their schedules and the ups and downs of bulking up or cutting calories. He’s used to the heaviness of his eyelids, the pounding headaches, and occasional dizziness that were the result of sleepless nights.

All these things he had taken in stride, forgetting that Y/n had been dealing with too. He had the luxury of being an idol, during schedules and tour, there was always breaks for food. But he had seen the way the managers and coordis had to run around, only eating when they had a couple minutes to spare.

He knows that he’s snapped at Y/n more than a few times, patience worn thin enough that at the end of the day he doesn’t have it in him for niceties. Of course, he had felt bad about it after the fact, but Y/n hadn’t seemed very phased by it and he had forgotten about it until the next time. It wouldn’t be the first time that stress made him more easily annoyed and ill-tempered, but now he realises why he seemed quicker to get caught up in his emotions.

The doctor continues talking, but Chan feels like he's underwater, the sound is muffled. This is his fault.

"Bang Chan-nim!" The doctor clasps one of Chan's hands in his and finally pulls his attention away from his self-loathing thoughts. "Are you okay? I know it can be a shock to find out, but don't feel bad. It's very common to be surprised, people are good at hiding things like this, even if you're close to them and I know that your bond is still relatively new. Luckily there are a lot of strategies we have to help your soulmate get more Charge, even if you both have busy schedules. Okay?"

"Okay," Chan replies weakly, he can barely focus on what’s being said, all he can think of is that he's the reason his soulmate is malnourished. And he didn't notice. That they think Y/n has an eating disorder, when it's him that has dictated the amount of charge that she gets. The doctor flips open the packet of papers and starts to highlight it.

"The most important thing right now is increasing Charging time. With Y/n-nim's injuries, her bedrest and all the time you two have spent charging have already been helping a lot. Take this recovery period as a time to build new habits and establish a routine that involves more skinship. I understand you two are busy, but I expect you try for at least 6 or 7 hours of sleep while charging, but more if possible. If you're both doing work on the computer, watching a show or movie, or eating, then sitting close enough to touch will help recharge without taking away from your regular activities. As you may already know, for the most efficient charging more skin-to-skin contact is recommended." He flips the front page back over and places the packet onto another, larger, stack of papers. "More details can be found here and this is the rest of Y/n-ssi's care instructions, prescriptions, and other information on soulmate bonds."

"Thank you so much," Chan says, automatically reaching out to accept all the papers.

"You're welcome. This must be very overwhelming, but Y/n-nim is healing quickly. Your bond is helping her recover much faster. We caught her malnutrition fairly early and expect that she'll be at normal energy levels within a few weeks. Don't feel guilty and try not to worry too much, Bang Chan-nim. Your bond is a good thing, not a bad one." The doctor smiles warmly, checking his watch and standing up. "Y/n-nim should be ready to be discharged now, let's go back to the room so that we don’t keep her waiting."

Chan follows the doctor back in a daze. Y/n is sitting on one of the chairs in her room, scrolling on her phone when they arrive. She brightens when they enter.

“Can we leave now?” she asks eagerly. Chan beelines to her side, reaching to hold her hand.

“Yes, everything has been sorted out now and Bang Chan-nim has all your care instructions. Please give us a call or come to visit if you have any questions or concerns at all,” the doctor says.

“Of course.”

“Looks like everything is ready to go. It was very nice to meet you both, although I wish it could have been under better circumstances. I hope that the rest of your recovery goes well, Y/n-nim, and please do not hesitate to contact us for anything.” With that, the doctor bows and leaves the room.

At the same moment, a nurse knocks on the doorframe as a greeting, pushing a wheelchair through the open door. Y/n’s smile fades when she sees it.

“Oh, no,” she says quickly. “I can walk, there’s no need for one of those.”

She turns to look at Chan for support, but he just shrugs helplessly. Secretly, he would feel better if she used it. After only a week in the hospital, she isn’t close to being fully recovered, even if she hides it well. He’s seen the slight grimaces when Y/n tries to shift positions and the way her face is lined with pain when she walks or has to stand straight for longer than a few minutes. If she pushes herself too much now, it’ll just extend the overall healing process.

“Really, I don’t need it,” she insists. “What was the point in all the walking practise? Besides, Chan-ssi and Yonghwan-ssi will be beside me, they won't let anything happen to me.”

The nurse looks sceptical, but agrees. Before they leave the room, Y/n twists her hand trying to break Chan’s grip.

“It’s too public,” she murmurs when he tightens his hold instead. “Just in case, I don’t want anyone to see anything that can be misinterpreted.”

Unable to think up an argument against that, Chan reluctantly lets go. Y/n hooks her arm with Yonghwan’s instead and they make their way out, Chan hovering behind them anxiously. They’re all wearing masks and hats and the car that’s going to pick them up is waiting at a private exit, but there’s a shared urgency in their movement. By now, the media has turned their attention to other stories, but with the radio silence from Stray Kids since the incident, fans have had nothing to do except theorise and wonder what’s happening behind the scenes.

He knows that it’s making him paranoid. He finds that he’s constantly looking over his shoulder when he’s in the hallways of the hospital. He’s never been more careful trying to cover up his appearance and avoid anybody who looks like they might recognise him.

They can’t risk the chance of a sighting of Y/n, especially now that her face was captured and shared on social media by fans before JYPE’s legal team was able to step in, and pictures of Chan with Y/n would make things much worse. There have already been rumours about how close Y/n is with all the members and who she is, using pictures from other schedules and events, somehow identifying her in blurred out clips from vlogs that have been posted, and even old footage from when she worked with Xdinary Heroes as evidence.

It scares Chan. Scares him so much that he can’t talk about it to anybody.

Although Y/n’s time in the hospital was fairly short, all things considered, Chan feels like he’s the one that has changed during this stay. Everything he has learned has made him feel like his chest has been opened up and his insides have been scooped out, leaving him hollowed out and unsteady.

When they finally get home safely, it feels like Chan can breathe easily for the first time in days.

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joelswritingmistress · 7 months

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 48

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

No.

No. No. No. No. Why?

“You look surprised.” Will tossed the cheap mask to the side and it skidded to a scraping halt on the small, square tiles.

This has to be a joke. “Will?” I shook my head. “What are you doing? What is this?”

“All valid questions.” He gave a nod and pulled the hood down off his head as he paced in my direction.

I began to walk backwards alongside the pool. “This isn't a joke? This is.. this is for real?” My mind still couldn't comprehend that part.

“Well it's not a nightmare, if that's what you mean,” Will went on. “It is for real.” He calmly folded his hands as he walked.

“What did you bring me down here for?” I continue to step backwards.

“I didn't initially intend to include you in all of this,” he explained. “But when I realized Joel was screwing one of his students, it was just the perfect addition to make this whole plan fall into place. You are going to be the final girl of this whole.. ordeal.”

“I don't understand.”

“I don't mean final girl as in survivor. I mean in it in a way that you will be the final girl killed in the string of Woodbridge murders. And your text breaking off your unorthodox relationship with your professor was the final straw that set him off - and led you to be his final victim. Before killing himself, of course.”

I shook my head, not following anything Will had just said. “What?”

He reached into the pocket of his dockers and removed my phone. “Just watch.” Will read aloud as he typed. “Dr. Miller.. I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore. It’s been fun.. no wait..” he deleted the word fun, “It's been hot sneaking around with you this semester but..” Will’s eyes met mine and he smiled, “It's over.” He tapped his finger once more, “Send.”

The phone slipped back into his pocket.

“You killed those girls,” I concluded.

“Guilty as charged.” Will raised his right hand.

“Why?” I shook my head, attempting to scan the area for somewhere to go. “And why are you trying to frame Joel?”

“Why?” He eyed the ceiling as if he was searching for the answer but I knew it was on the tip of his tongue. “Well, there’s a lot you don't know about Joel.”

“Unless he also kills innocent women I don't think you're in any position to throw stones.” We continued our walk. Will stalked me as I continued on backwards.

“Women.. no.” He shook his head, “But Joel Miller is a killer.” Will flashed a grin, “I didn't even mean for that to rhyme.” He chuckled as if we were back at the bar having drinks.

I wanted to pinch myself. How could this man chameleonize himself so incredibly? It appeared as if he was head over heels for Carol; a perfect gentleman. There wasn't a hint of malice in his eyes. Not once. The man before me was far different than the Will Brennan I had met.

It left me with a thought I quickly shoved out of my brain: Could Joel be deceiving me, too? Will said he was a killer.

He's attempting to manipulate you, I told myself.

“He didn't tell you, did he?” Will branded the knife he’d placed up to my throat and placed the tip of the blade against his fingertip. He then twirled the knife a few times, watching it spin against his finger before glancing back up at me.

“Tell me what?”

“That he killed a dear friend of mine.”

“The UPS guy?” I squinted my eyes. “The one who assaulted Carol?”

Will let out a chuckle. “No. No, that one was deemed some kind of ‘accident’.” He made air quotes with his fingers. “No, I'm talking about another person Joel killed. You see, Dr. Miller isn’t some knight on a white horse, even though I can tell that’s how you look at him. No, he’s quite the opposite actually.”

“And for that reason you feel it’s necessary to kill women?” I squinted my eyes at him, feeling some kind of anger erupt through all the fear.

“It’s all part of a bigger plan.”

“So, they’re collateral damage then? Is that it?” I rounded the corner of the pool and glanced down at the water. It was so still and serene, swaying gently within itself. And then I glanced back up at Will.

“Something like that,” he said, not caring in the least.

“And what about Carol?” Another tragic piece to this puzzle.

“Oh, Carol and I will be just fine. I mean, after the tragic revelation that her brother is a serial killer who offed himself, and you, tonight, we probably won’t be getting married tomorrow. But that’s fine. I’ll be right there to help her through her grief, and maybe a year from now, or whenever she’s ready, we’ll get married and live happily ever after.”

I shook my head. “You’re sick.” Tears stung the bottoms of my eyes. This time it was for Carol. “She’ll know, ya know. She’s an intelligent woman.” I wiped a tear away.

“Well, if she hasn’t figured it out by now..” Will shrugged and smiled, “I didn’t plan on sticking it out with Carol, but she really did grow on me. I love her.”

“You’re not capable of loving anything.” I shook my head and then said again, “She’ll figure it out. Even if it takes a year, she’ll figure it out. Joel wouldn’t kill those women.”

He grinned, “And have you figured out your lover’s secrets? I’m willing to bet he’s never told you about Ace Deerfield.”

“Oh, I know all about Ace Deerfield. Another piece of shit ‘lady killer’.”

“Let’s be careful with our word choice,” Will said, “I don’t want to get knife happy prematurely.” He ran a finger down the length of the blade. “I’m sure Joel left out one major detail about Ace Deerfield, and you wouldn’t have figured it out without me telling you. Joel killed Ace.”

I swallowed hard and stepped backwards up onto a small, square diving board and the off the other side.

Will smiled and trailed me. “Of course he left out that part. Who would willingly be with a man who admitted to killing somebody in cold blood?”

“Ace Deerfield was a serial killer.”

“Who the justice system set free,” Will said, “So, if there wasn’t enough evidence, was he really a serial killer? I guess we’ll never know. He doesn’t have a voice anymore. Because Joel Miller killed him.”

“Lou Brackett killed Ace Deerfield.”

He cackled a laugh that echoed off the walls of the big, empty space. “Lou Brackett?” Will laughed again, “Lou fucking Brackett. All one-hundred and fifteen pounds of him? You could’ve broken Lou Brackett in half. Hell, little Frankie Miller could’ve broken him in two. Lou Brackett could barely walk in his final years, nevermind carry out a murder.”

“Well, the world��s a better place without Ace Deerfield in it, regardless of who killed him.”

“ I thought we talked about watching your mouth.”

“No. You talked about watching my mouth.” Fuck. I knew I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t have a plan after getting feisty with Will, and so I turned and started to run in the opposite direction.

It was all of two or three seconds before Will caught up with me and pulled me against him again, putting the knife back against my neck. That’s a feeling I would never forget. It was just as terrifying the second time.

“Why?” I shouted again, “Why do you give a shit about Ace Deerfield?”

“He was my best friend,” Will hissed, “Since grade school. “We were in the military together, right after high school. He saved my life. And ever since, I’ve owed him mine.”

“He was a bad man, Will.”

“Joel is a bad man.”

“Why did you kill those women?” I went to shake my head but the knife was digging into my skin. I felt a drip of blood this time slide down the center of my throat.

Will huffed a deep breath and the blade loosened just a bit on my neck. Rather than respond, he walked me toward a dark corner of the room, explaining the fictional story, again, that he intended to carry out. “Joel had this darkness in him. He took a job at Woodbridge and began killing off women on campus. And then he meets you, seduces you, and makes you his final victim when you try to leave him. You discovered his crimes. Maybe you threatened to go to the police, and as a last ditch effort, he lures you down to the hotel spa, knowing you can’t swim and shoves you into the pool before taking a handful of pills, killing himself.” Will chuckled, “A real life twisted version of Romeo and Juliet. Perfect ending.”

I let it sink in for a moment. Joel was in danger. Carol was in danger. If I died right then, what would happen to them? And why was Will walking me away from the pool?

He extended his arm over my shoulder again toward a dark nook in the corner of the room beyond a jacuzzi. My eyes widened and I struggled to get away now, feeling tears begin to fall down my face again.

Will held me tighter, “Shh.. shh.. He’s just sleeping.” He laughed now, as we both looked upon Dr. Miller laying unconscious in the dark corner of the room. “I’ll make sure Romeo’s awake for the first act.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandojojo @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

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fantastic-nonsense · 6 months

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Hi! I've never done this before but I'm new to comics (started with WFA and Zatanna and the Ripper) and I've basically got most of my information from posts on tumblr and r/hobbydrama (including yours.) I think I have a general idea of what Jason Todd is like, but I believe a lot of people are unhappy with his new characterisation.

So, if you were the one in charge, how would you write him? Would you write him with a team or as a solo character? Would you have him use the All-Blades or a crowbar or his guns? Would you have him properly rejoin the batfam or not?

Thanks!

Hi! Welcome to the fandom! I hope you're enjoying your time here.

In general, I think DC (and the fandom) has spent too much time milking Jason's death for trauma porn. They have refused to allow him to find closure, move past that, and exist beyond his daddy issues drama with Bruce. When DC has allowed him to have stories outside of that, they were often written with little consideration for what should be done with Jason beyond making him "badass."

None of this has been conducive to creating any kind of satisfying and coherent narrative or character arc for Jason, especially when both writers and editorial seem more obsessed with stealing traits, relationships, and stories from other people to give to him (most prominently Dick, Selina, and Helena). My hottake is that DC should move beyond "Red Hood" as an identity for Jason entirely, because it drags his character down and keeps him inherently tied to the same problems that have kept his character stagnant for years.

However! I don't think he's unsalvagable. I simply think DC needs to put a decent writer on him and commit to a character direction for more than 2 years at a time. I'm unsure of what Shawn Martinbrough is currently doing with Jason in his The Hill arc, as I'm not reading it, but I've heard that there might be some forward momentum finally happening there?

Anyway, my personal conception of Jason's future (as lovingly brainstormed by me and my friends in our comics discord server) is effectively this: he becomes a street-level paranormal detective who solves cold murder cases by talking with the victims' ghosts and providing closure to restless spirits. Think Lockwood and Co. meets Pushing Daisies with a superhero twist; basically, a supernatural detective noir book.

There's a lot of concepts and lore drops tied into this idea, but basically it was born out of a discussion where I was talking about Jason's many connections with the supernatural and occult across all continuities and how it's kind of a mystery why DC hasn't just formally connected him to the mystical side of the DCU. So I was like "they should just reveal that Superboy-Prime’s reality punch resurrection left him LITERALLY undead, make the event where he finds this out also spark his ability to see and communicate with ghosts, and make him an occult detective. Let him close cold case murder files and put those spectres to rest."

Which is also a great premise for a Bat book and a great unfilled niche for a Batfamily member. Kate's supernatural stories are much more high concept and connected to her family drama. Damian's supernatural/occult connections are traditionally very heavily tied to his family history and the Lazarus Pits. Dick's semi-regular magic encounters are usually stuff he deals with alongside his teammates in the course of working with the Titans. None of the other Bats have enough regular encounters with the supernatural and magic side of the DCU for it to encroach on their shtick, and a Gotham-based supernatural book is well within DC's ability to publish and market given books like Gotham by Midnight.

In terms of how that direction affects all the other questions you asked...I think Jason's relationship with the rest of the Batfam should be complicated. I personally don't think "good/bad relationship with the Batfam" is a particularly useful way to look at it because I think there are people he should never see eye to eye with, people he realistically shouldn't and doesn't have a problem with, and people he should get along with just fine. I don't think everyone needs to or should be friends or enemies with him, but his morals and past actions will (and should!) complicate those relationships in interesting ways.

And re: what weapons I'd like to see him use...using the All-Blades would certainly factor into my proposed narrative direction, as that would lean into the supernatural connections, but I generally prefer the concept of Jason using knives as his preferred weapon over guns/a crowbar/etc. That way he can still be a marksman without using guns, and I think that fits more with his character trajectory as someone attempting to be less lethal but also has no problem roughing people up when he thinks they need to be.

#jason todd #jason todd meta #thank you!#also I'm so sorry for the delayed response. my mental capacity to respond to people has been pretty low recently 😭#long post #ask #dc comics #batman #batfam

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fadingdaggerr · 1 year

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Hi, could i request a melissa schemmenti x firefighter!reader. I absolutely found melissa in 2x15 bloody adorable, so i would think she would melt if she were to see reader on the job or in uniform (like getting ready to go to work and melissa catches them before they leave the house sort of thing). It could be an established relationship or not, totally up to you, just thought this would be a super cute idea.

I feel like there could be more firefighter!reader stuff but at this point, i’ve read all of melissa schemmenti stories and i’m desperate for more, so i’ll take anything 🫠.

p.s. I love all of your stories and the way you write 💕💕

- 🩵

simmer

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! melissa very much appreciates r’s firefighting uniform, quite a lot

warnings: fluff, suggestive comments, mel and r are just obsessed w each other

note: i went back and forth a few times on this, but i hope you like it. also everything i know about firefighting is from station 19 so it’s probably wrong but we’re here to be gay not correct

your alarm pierced your eardrums, pulling you violently from a deep and comfortable sleep. you reached haphazardly to turn off the alarm, burying your face back into your pillow with a groan. soft lips press between your shoulder blades, nails caressing your sides. if only staying in bed was an option. your head lifted off the pillow, turning to face melissa behind you. she has to be too beautiful to be real, you thought inwardly.

melissa leaned forward, catching your lips with hers. she relished in the way you pressed into her, blindly pushing yourself into her as much as you possibly could. she wishes you didn’t have to go in today, it was a saturday, a no-school day. but being the lieutenant under captain robinson meant when the fire chief came to visit, you had to be there to run the crew. one, two, three more pecks were placed to her lips before you pulled away, to both of your dismays.

she propped herself up against the headboard as she watched you mill about before you head into the shower. melissa often found herself admiring you when you weren’t looking, green eyes tracing your face, watching your hands as they moved when you spoke. she indulged herself in the view of you and your company.

when you emerged from the bathroom, your phone was pressed between your shoulder and ear. melissa could see the irritation radiating off of you as you grumbled with whoever was on the other line. she finds herself annoyed with them as well, peeved that they are taking away her time with you.

“so i have to pull up in turnouts instead of changing when i get there like a normal person… for what reason?” you ask as you dig through the dresser for a pair of boot socks. of course, captain robinson called you. he trusted you enough to lead the crew, but not enough to just let you do your job. melissa laughs as you turn around and face her with dead eyes and a slacked jaw before you speak again, “yessir, black turnouts. i’ll see you next week. yes. yes. mhm, yeah, bye.”

“did he just call you to tell you to wear clothes?” melissa asks in a joking tone, watching you in the reflection of your mirror.

you laugh as you apply your moisturizer, “pretty much. he said since i’m in charge today, i have to be ready before the crew.”

melissa was admittedly giddy about the whole prospect. she’d seen you in your formal attire when you were promoted from driver engineer to lieutenant last year, and congratulate you she did, all night long. she had been selfishly waiting for the day you came home in your turnouts, just so she could rip them off of you.

her eyes followed you as you grabbed a fitted, black t-shirt from the drawer, then as you pulled an extra pair of turnout pants from the closet. melissa watched intently as you dressed, focused as you pulled the shirt over your head, tucking it into the pants, leaving maroon suspenders hanging down. her mind was blank within seconds, only thing bouncing around was the image of you. she hardly registered you turning around, catching the dazed look across her face. in fact, she didn’t notice anything until you were mere centimeters from her.

“whatcha looking at gorgeous?” you ask with a sly smile on your lips, relishing in the way melissa’s cheeks bloom with redness.

she blinks a couple times, “nothing.”

“nothing? nothing at all?” you ask, leaning even closer to her. melissa was rendered speechless by you, the hand on her thigh drawing little shapes over the sheets, your eyes staring into hers with a mischievous glint. everything you did and said was a personal aphrodisiac for the redhead, but this uniform was altogether something else. no one had ever had this sort of effect on her, and now she’s blushing like a pre-teen at a boy band concert.

melissa only had enough wherewithal to nod at your question. no matter what you did or said she would never admit out loud how much you affected her, how much she craves the feeling you give her with just one look. her eyes shut briefly as your hand rises to tuck hair behind her ear, warming her face impossibly more.

“knock it off,” she mumbled, leaning into your palm that rested against her cheek.

your thumb stroked her soft skin with a chuckle, “i’m just sitting here, mel.”

“you’re so…” she huffs, only getting a confused look in response. “fucking look at you,” she almost yells, placing her hands over her face with embarrassment.

she hears the light laughter that leaves you, then feels you pulling her wrists as a way to get her hands off her face. you’re only half-successful and speak anyways, “i didn’t think turnouts would have the melissa schemmenti blushing like a fool.”

melissa wishes her heart didn’t soar when you laughed as she smacked your shoulder. anyone else who’d have the guts point this out would have to move to another planet to escape her wrath, but here you were, leaning into her even when she scowled. you pressed a kiss to her nose before rising off the bed again to finish getting ready.

as you walked back to the bathroom, melissa followed and stood behind you with her arms wrapped around your waist as you brushed your teeth. her nose tucked into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your body wash and the smell that was uniquely you. her hands slowly moved up and down your torso, attempting to untuck your shirt and slide her hands underneath. you turned in her arms, halting her actions with a small, non-threatening glare.

“you are ravishing,” melissa says quiet tone, her eyes scanning over your features before dipping down to look at your clothing.

your cheeks warm under her affection, heart rapidly beating from just looking at her. leaving for work had never been harder, not when she was looking at you, touching you, like this. melissa knew the effect she had on you, the same way you knew of yours on her.

you cup her face in your hands, cherishing the beauty of her, “you can ravish me as much as you’d like when i get home.”

“don’t you wanna stay home with me, lieutenant?” she asked with a deeper tone, dripping in lust. you held back a groan at her words, wanting more than anything to take her up on the offer. she leans in, lips just a hair from your, “pretty please?”

you meet her in a sweet kiss, not letting her devilish tongue persuade you. nothing sounded better than spending a day in bed with melissa, to have the tv on and be so enraptured with one another that it fades away. when you pull away from her lips you whisper, “i want nothing more, but i have to go to work. i’ll be home before dinner, i promise.”

leaving melissa’s arms felt like being torn from like her, but if you didn’t leave now, you’d never leave again. she was a temptress of the highest order, you were sure of it. ignoring the looks and lingering touches she left behind as she ‘helped’ you collect your things. your hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her towards you as you started for the front door.

“i will be home at four thirty-six exactly. once i walk through that door, i am all yours,” you say to her, staring into big green eyes that were begging you to come back to bed.

“all mine?”

“completely and entirely,” you say, punctuating your sentence with a long kiss to soft lips. pulling away hurt your heart, but you had to. she caught your hand before you turned away, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, letting go with pursed lips.

“i love you,” she says as she leans against the doorway.

you turn back to her, “i love you more. i’ll see you at four thirty-six.”

“four thirty-six,” she replies as she reluctantly shuts the door.

it was going to be a long and hard day, but any day that melissa schemmenti was waiting for you at home was a good day.

sorry this was shorter than usual i was having a hard time with this one for… no reason??

feedback appreciated as always <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary

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chocotonez · 1 year

Text

skz as love languages pt3: physical touch

a/n: pt 3 yay! I hope ur enjoying reading this as much as I’m enjoying writing this :)

cw/genre: physical touch, suggestive in some parts but not really (?), cursing, lowkey awkward sometimes, fluff n rainbows n sugar cotton ya!!!

summary: skz expressing affection through physical touch

link to 1k June masterlist -> (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

chan

-subtle touches in public, not very big on PDA unless you are

-in private he’s a whole different story, he’s ALL over you!!!

-he doesn’t mind expressing himself publicly but it just feels awkward yknow like he wants to smother you with cuddles privately

-loves cuddling so much

-and when you play w his hair!

-he thinks it’s a pretty sweet display of affection and he loves loves loves holding you or being held <3

-it always makes him feel so safe

-not really awkward about physical touch unless it’s public or in a more intimate situation that’s serious, like your first kiss or smth like that, he gets incredibly flustered because now he feels like he might mess something up

-either way he’ll never say no to a kiss <3

-always asks for consent to touch you as well!! all in all, physical touch is his favorite receiving love language !!

lee know

-does it mainly to fluster you for shits n giggles

-holds you close though with PDA, feels the need to shield you sometimes

-loves being held or having your arms wrapped around you, waking up with his head buried into the crook between your neck and shoulder, or when your hands are held so tightly around his waist, the hugs you give when he gets back from tour—he’ll never get sick of having your arms wrapped around him

-his kisses are very quick and brief unless you two are in a more emotionally charged moment, if it’s just a quick kiss he’ll gladly provide but he also puts a lot of intent when it’s a serious kiss situation yknow

-holds ur face a lot <3

-plays w ur hand or holds your wrist, kisses the back of your hand a lot

-he doesn’t even realize how much he loves touching you and how much he loves having you touch him, it’s just second nature

changbin

-cuddle bug #1, his absolute favorite love language in terms of both giving and receiving

-he’ll always be down to have you in his arms, at least half of his camera roll is photos of you two tangling your limbs together

-always asks for a kiss, always gives you a kiss, always wants a kiss etc etc

-his favorite form of PDA is when you wrap yourself around his arm or when he has an arm around your waist/shoulder <3

-he does not mind at all being overly expressive with PDA, giggles if you get flustered and shields you with his body

-“getting shy, baby? I just want everyone to see how much I love you !!”

-he gets flustered too if you work hard enough tho don’t worry this is an equal relationship!

-hold his face and give him even just a peck in public and he’s melting, or if you randomly give him a back hug he actually ascends and goes to heaven

-can’t keep his hands off of you and is very happy if you feel the same

hyunjin

-prefers subtle forms of physical touch, linking fingers in public or quick kisses to the back of your neck or shoulder blades

-it’s not that he doesn’t like outwardly expressing how much he loves you, it just feels like he can do it in better ways

-will still definitely languidly take you by the hand/waist to pull you into his lap or next to him

-he is not opposed to your love language being physical touch, absolutely adores when you massage his shoulders or peck his cheeks, put your hands on his arms or neck idk he just likes feeling you touch him

-can be more touchy when he’s feeling intimate or wants to be with you for the night, not inherently sexually, he just wants you in his arms and wants to touch you, but don’t expect the same sort of thing in public

-smaller displays of affection just so other people know you guys r more than friends tho, it’s his possessive side coming out

han

-oh he’s very big on physical touch !! receiving, giving, he eats that shit up no matter what it is

-loves when he has you sitting on his lap while he works, he feels like he doesn’t have to ever pick between you and work in that position

-absentmindedly does PDA, randomly taking your hand to squeeze it or pressing quick kisses to your cheek, or pulling you in by the waist for a speedy kiss while waiting on a food order or smth

-loves having you around his waist, neck, etc, when you wrap your arms around him and hold him close he feels so warm and mushy inside

-type of boyfriend to hold you by the waist in the morning so you won’t leave

-he loves holding your hand or playing with your fingers especially on public transport or whatever

-he thinks ur so cute he loves squishing your cheeks or fussing over you but loves it when you do the same to him!!

-play with his hair and he melts, no matter what he loves the feeling of your hands on him

felix

-cuddlebug #2, loves giving and receiving physical touch

-playing with his hair, poking his freckles, holding his hand or linking fingers, cuddling or spooning on the couch, and he always reciprocates!!

-braids your hair and massages your hands, kisses your forehead/cheek just out of the blue, wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder/top of the head/literally anywhere he can

-even when he’s sweaty after performing he’ll beg you to give him a kiss and a hug <3

-he doesn’t mind being big spoon or little spoon, but he likes when he can feel your weight on top of him, it keeps him grounded and constantly reminds him you’re there

-back hugs as PDA 24/7, second to swinging your held hands back and forth or randomly pressing kisses to the back of your hands

-can’t go five seconds without feeling you physically or else he breaks out into hives it’s actually worrying

seungmin

-does physical touch as a means of teasing you

-he doesn’t mind the usual affection expected from two people dating and he enjoys it, but he loves seeing how you get if he kisses you against the wall or if his hands ghost your sides

-if you’re not the type to get nervous that easily expect him to up the rate he physically teases you x1000

-thinks you’re so adorable and loves seeing your facial expressions change depending on what he’s doing, eyes squeezed tight while smiling because he’s crushing you in a hug, eyebrows furrowed because he’s distracting you with peppered kisses to your neck, etc etc <3

-he likes it when you pet/stroke his head, finds it so comforting to have his head resting on your shoulder or on your chest

-he always wants to hold your hand in public, he doesn’t really care for PDA but he adores knowing you’re always in arm’s lengths of him

-plays with your hands, hair, to describe how he expresses physical touch is definitely playful lolol

jeongin

-loves poking you idk it’s a love language

-has a big thing for your hands, holding them, messing with them, kissing them

-can be a bit awkward in more intimate and serious moments, like when he has to kiss you for an anniversary or when there’s a moment of seriousness and a lull in the air and he just has to kiss you but it’s so AWKWARD

-he’s still obsessed with giving you out of the blue kisses and running away because he can’t cope w the consequences

-thinks it’s so fun to poke your cheeks

-he’s obsessed when you hold his face when you kiss him

-loves cuddling especially when you two r just laying down in bed in each other’s arms!! best feeling ever

-not huge on PDA, feels like physical affection is another sort of add-on when you’re dating someone so it’s not really his biggest love language in general

-still obsessed with holding you/having you in his arms tho <3

•••

taglist: @chansburgah @spacegirlstuff @mxrivicgb @endless-tsundoku

#stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids blurbs #stray kids headcanons

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ladytauria · 1 month

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and lets do a "Tim got turned into a cat" au

your pick who picks him up and takes care of him

didn’t expect this to be the one i finished first but i’m not complaining. anyway you get a small snippet plus uh. more than 5 points xD

yknow for as much as i enjoy reading them i don’t think i’ve ever written OR plotted one out before!

hmmm… 🤔

very tempted to go damian for this one bc i love the whole. ‘see a different side of someone’ trope with animal transformation & when it comes to tim i find that trope yummiest w jason & dami lmao

hmmm, am thinking…

Tim gets turned either on patrol or while researching an object. I lean more toward the latter bc I like the idea of them finding him at his apartment or in his nest, and while that’s possible with the first option it’s easier/more likely with the second. And I like the idea of him having been stuck there for a short time lmao.

Could also be fun if maybe he was on research duty bc he had a broken/twisted/sprained arm or leg, so little cat Tim also has an injured limb… Teeny Tim cat with a li’l cast on…

Anyway! Damian and Dick are on patrol together when Babs asks them to check on Tim bc he hasn’t reported in over 24 hours and she just wants to make sure he’s good. Dami is aggravated to be interrupted but also he IS a little concerned bc Tim is generally prompt about his check-ins. And ofc when they get there there’s no sign of Tim, just a little black cat holding one of its paws kind of weird.

They look the place over, collect any evidence, etc. Damian makes some disparaging comments both to hide his own worry but ALSO to distract Dick from his. Def takes charge of the cat, bringing him back to the Cave/Manor to get him some food and medical attention. Maybe says something about Tim’s carelessness, which bothers Tim, making him growl/hiss/scratch at Damian.

Obviously how he acts with everyone around vs just with the cat is different; he’s less prickly when it’s just him & Timcat. The main inspo for me picking Damian and writing all of this was a couple of lines of dialogue that popped in my head when I read this. Something like—

“Just between you and me,” Damian says, his voice low and almost conspiratorial, “I find myself worried for Timothy as well.”

Tim’s ears prick slightly, his head raising ever so slightly off of his paw. His body has turned liquid under the touch of Damian’s hand; gentle yet firm as it runs over the length of his spine.

“For all of his faults, he would not have left you alone. Especially not if you were injured.” Damian’s hand stills, settling just under Tim’s shoulder blades. It’s a warm, comforting weight there—almost as comforting as the words themselves. A soft rumble starts in his torso.

As much as he tries not to care what Damian—what *anyone*—thinks, it… bothered Tim, that Damian believed he could be so callous. To know that it was an act is a relief.

Though it begs the question of *why*.

Damian scratches lightly behind one of Tim’s ears, and his eyes close without his meaning to. He tilts into it, sighing; the soft rumble in his ribs turning louder.

His questions will keep.

Not sure how they ultimately figure out that Tim is the cat, only that I do want Damian to be the one to figure it out. I also want Damian to end up doing a majority of sifting through Tim’s files—lol, maybe taking over for Bruce or Dick bc he didn’t like how they were doing it, and Tim being surprised at how well Damian knows him/his system. (Bc Damian has been studying him.)

Oh OH, also want Tim to decide to take advantage of being a cat to learn more about Damian since Damian talks to him a lot? So he learns more about how Damian feels about him but also more about Damian in general. But then maybe it gets awkward bc Damian maybe starts talking about Tim being pretty and how that just makes his feelings (jealousy, admiration, guilt) even MORE complicated.

Final thought: I kind of want this to be pre-Alfred the Cat? So Damian doesn’t have a cat at all, and Tim gets him one after bc “he knows Damian will take good care of it” and “he always wanted a cat growing up so maybe he could visit it sometimes…”. Cat could maybe be an apology for Tim letting the ruse go on, though I am thinking he DID try to signal early on, they just missed it? But anyway.

[ send me an au and i’ll tell you (at least) 5 things i would have happen in it ]

#no links for now bc i’m on mobile #thank u for this <3333 #damitim #timdami #tauriawritesfanfic #sort of #deepwithintheabyss #asks and answers #dcu

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castrian-amore · 8 months

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Bitter, had the Heart

Dead Tired (Tim Drake x Danny Fenton), Tim Drake-centric, unfinished, the author is plotting, temporary death, please check out ao3 for full tags list.

4/46 Chapters | Word Count: 5751

Chapter 4: You Stole my Fuckin' fruit snacks

Tim and Dick snuck into the warehouse through the upper floor window. The one they normally entered though. Jason was cleaning his nails with one of his knives waiting in the warehouse which had a few small collections of boxes stacked around the area. The lights flickered above making the scene eerie. The walls were creaking in the autumn Gotham wind.

This entire thing had been last minute, but it had been

Decided over a silent breakfast and staring at Dick. They had to go and meet this mysterious vigilante who had stayed so far from them for so long. It was better they do it now than let B be the one to meet. Both rescheduling their plans for the evening.

“Heyo Little wing!” Dick greeted a smile plastered across his face as Jason glanced off. His helmet set off to the side just wearing the red mask over his eyes for the moment.

“Hey,” Jason greeted back giving them a nod as he gave a spin to his knife before sheathing it.

“Where is Mr. Distortion?”Dick asked with a smirk crossing his arms as Jason shrugged.

“Fuck if I know, he comes and goes as he pleases. I’m not the boss of him.” Though Tim wouldn’t pick up on what Dick did. He could only read so much into a person. Dick was really good at it. While Tim could tell if people are lying Dick could tell you what about and could direct the conversation where he wanted it a lot easier than Tim could.

“So what made him change his mind? Getting caught in action by us?”Tim raised an eyebrow at Jason.

“You two are really just working on the same case but trying to tackle it from different sides. He has valuable information and wants this case closed as much as you do.”

“And how long has he been working on this case?” Tim was pressing.

“3 years.”

“The murders didn’t start until 6 months ago.”

“That’s what you think Replacement. It’s his case I’ve just been making sure he doesn’t get himself killed by my men,” a nonchalant shrug came from Jason’s shoulders. The tenseness in them though told him something else was going on. “Don’t know why he’s fucking late though.”

“Guess he got held up,”Dick chuckled until an empty cardboard box hit Jason in the head and bounced off towards the bats.

“YOU TRAITOROUS BITCH.”

They looked towards the voice and dropping from a small spot in the roof was the masked figure they’d seen running from the crime scene 5 days ago.

He wore no respirator this time but his goggles remained on. He was angry, that was for sure. He landed with a roll unsheathing a fucking batarang?!?! Oh yeah wait. That tracked. He had thrown one at the guy. Hit him actually.

Jason merely smirked as if this kind of response had been expected. Dick moving to pick up the cardboard box. Tim watched as the kid(?). He was short, okay?

The man with black hair whom they could Assume was distortion began his onslaught onto Jason. A swipe to the man’s arms as Jason blocked and moved to punch the kid who ducked underneath slipping between his legs and nailing a kick to the back of Jason’s knee dropping him down a bit as he used Jason’s shoulders as a vantage point flipping the man who was easily close to a foot taller than him. Jason hit the ground, hard. That didn’t unmotivate him though.

“Feisty tonight Dis.”

“Fuck you.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jason feigned innocence as he kicked Distortion off of him sending the man reeling. Dick and Tim watching the man correct his position mid air to land sliding backwards hand on the ground knife behind him.

“Yes you fucking Did!”He hissed out as he charged again blade against blade before Jason managed to knock the batarang towards Red Robin and Nightwing. Tim picking up his batarang.

“Hey, Red I think that’s yours anyways right?”

“Yeah it is. So wait, what did you do?”

“One second.” Jason groaned out as Distortion wasn’t letting up and got a solid kick to his chest knocking the wind out of him. Tim thought he might have even heard a clean snap at some point as Jason landed a hook onto distortion blood beginning to trickle from his nose. Ignoring it though he pressed on.

“You went to my safe house,”Distortion began as he skillfully knocked Jason’s blade away and threw a kick at him. The leg going just above Jason’s head. “And stole my SHIT.”

“I left a sticky note! Also,”Jason caught Dis’s leg before flipping him this time arm against his throat. “Are you not taking it easy?”

Dis landed a hit on Jason’s nose sitting up coughing a tad. “WITH NO APOLOGY.”

Dick tapped Tim’s shoulder to show him the box in question. It was an empty box of fruit gummies. A sticky note haphazardly put on it saying ‘took your last pack’.

“I’d fight him too,”Tim nodded. “Especially if he did that to me.” Tim had a small laugh and couldn’t help but look at the silliness of the situation. Though it became clear Dis was lagging.

The fight finished not even 30 seconds later as Jason slammed his hand into Distortion’s leg and the man crumpled holding it.

He began cursing in… was that fucking Esperanto? Kid still landed a small kick on Jason’s ankle which had him cursing.

“You owe me so many fucking gummies you Dick head.”

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Jason offered a hand down to Dis who stood up moving to sit on a box as Jason went to go grab his first aid kit.

“So You’re distortion.”

“One and only.”

“Reminds me of Robin with less murderous tendencies,”Tim looked over at Dick.

“I have to agree,”Dick chuckled, pulling over boxes so they could sit. “So, are you finally okay with meeting two of the bats?”

“You’re stuck, I’m stuck. Guess it’s finally time to get my head out of my ass and ask for help.”

Jason came back with a kit the two bickering as Jason moved to cut away his loose fitting pants revealing the neatly wrapped wound soaked now in fresh blood. Tim could pick up that the man hadn’t really wanted to ask for help. He obviously was hesitant, untrusting. It seemed his walls were so far up, that it was a miracle Jason was close to him at all.

“Well it’s nice to meet you though I wish we could say we’ve heard of you.”

“I would be concerned if you had heard of me.” Distortion clarified flinching away from the other as he cut away the bandages handing him a tissue for his bleeding nose. “After all there is the whole ‘Batman doesn’t like Metas rule’.”

“You’re a meta?” Dick asked, leaning forward on his knees a bit. Dis nodded and held his hand up letting his hand fade from view. Right as he did it though he gave a sharp gasp of pain.

“Fucking hell,”he hissed out through gritted teeth.

“My hand slipped.”

Jason’s hands didn’t slip. He knew his elder brother far too well. He was hiding something. Dis wasn’t supposed to have outed himself. The cry of pain was the only explanation. The two of them seemingly having a quiet conversation to himself and Tom gently poked his brother’s side to see if he noticed it too and he did give a small nod in response.

“You’re the one who ripped their stitches,”Jason chided as he continued to work otherwise carefully.

Dis mouthed the words mocking him only eliciting another harsh pull from Jason.

“The case?”Dick redirected them back on task.

“Yeah, sorry. The case has been going on for 3 years. It’s the entire reason I ended up Gotham.”

“You’ve been here for 3 years? For a case?” Tim couldn’t hide his surprise at that. You didn’t just come to Gotham for a mere case.

“Not for this case but it did kinda fall into my lap yeah.” That made more sense, but still raised his questions for just how long this kid had been working under their radar. Not just how long, what was he capable of?

“So what do you know?”

“Hood wanna be a doll and grab my file since I’m currently injured,”The kid had a flair for the dramatic as he feigned a hand to his forehead leaning backwards on the crate looking absolutely “injured”.

“Fucking spoiled prick.”

“SAYs YOU!”

“YEAH SAYS I DIS! I’m the one who has to deal with your fucking bullshit all the time!”

All Tim could currently think about was how Jason had claimed he had not much to do with Distortion but from what he could see the two were remarkably close. Tim wouldn’t understand but he was admittedly jealous. He wished he could have had a better relationship with Jason from the beginning.

One that hadn’t ended in him being called Jason’s replacement. Tim wanted the Robin spot, honestly. He had taken it when Batman needed him most and needed back up and all he had gotten was shit for it. Maybe he had still been salty about that. The Robin who was the smartest but at what cost? He was the longest reigning Robin before Damian came along and forced Tim to change his name and realign himself.

When Tim had rebranded as Red Robin he had sort of gone on a quiet rampage. His morals thrown out of the loop in anger and he made some not so great decisions. Jason had found him then beating the shit out of a drug runner who had murdered an innocent little girl. It had been Jason who pulled Tim off the man in his late teens.

Jason who apologized to Tim for how he treated him, and that he was really trying to work on his anger and had confided in Tim about how badly his anger issues affected him to that day. He had called it Pit Rage. An ever consuming anger he couldn’t get rid of. Jason just seemed more relaxed than he had, ever. Maybe this person was doing some good for him.

Jason came back over handing Dis the manilla folders with neat labels and tabs.

“Year one we have out first 2 victims.” He pulls out photos. “Small but noticeable markings. Missing heart. Missing kidney. Blood everywhere, but it was almost more surgical?” He hands over the photos. “Then we have year 2. 5 in total. Same thing as the first two. Missing heart. Missing Kidney. Same symbols but we watch the motives slowly get more and more deteriorated. The kills start to get messy.”

Tim and Dick flipped through the photos noticing the same thing. “Like the person who did it in the first place was loosing the reason that they started doing it in the first place.”

“Yeah.. that’s what I was thinking,”Dis admits. “You’ve seen the most disturbing ones from this year, so I won’t go into detail about that. Here’s what you need to know that I know. I’m meta, and one of those abilities allows me to see things and understand things not known to the human eye, specifically on the field of the supernatural. Thing that one chick who I keep seeing posters of, uhhhh Hood help me out?”

“Zatanna.” Jason was mildly amused at him not knowing who she was.

“Yeah her. She’s dripping with magic, I kinda have access to see it, not access it but it’s an entire thing. Not important. What is important is how those abilities relate to this case.”

“Okay..”Tim nods taking in the information at hand. He was useful.

“Those markings are a language. Nothing that still breaths should be able to read it but those who have sold their soul, or been touched by Death themself can read it. Don’t ask Hood he can’t read it. I kind of can? Think like I understand it but it’s borderline untranslatable.”

“So our culprit either soul their soul or was touched by death and survived?” Dick clarified looking over to Tim who was thinking the same thing. Ra’s and John Constantine might prove useful to this case.

“Exactly. Ghost Speech can’t easily be translated, but I did manage to do it after going through like 5 languages until I could get it into English. Belong, to live, to die, again, trust not the living, friend.” Dis set the folder down. “I’ve been staring at those words for 3 years and I got nothing.”

“Belong, to live, to die ,again, trust not the living, friend. That sounds like a warning?”

“For who? Us? The serial killer is the one who’s torturing and murdering people!”Dis exclaimed. “Look, Red, Nightwing. I get it. You probably don’t want me involved but I am useful. You need me on this case!”

“Look, we’re not going to turn you away or down. This is more information than we’ve been able to get in the entirety of the case.”Dick began slowly. “But Hood mentioned you were weary of Batman. Red and I can respect that but if we officially bring you into this case you know he will get involved. He already is in terms of this case.”

“Bring me in.”

Tim and Dick shared a moment of surprise between each other. Jason would do that? For Dis?

“I’ll act as messenger when needed. It’s only a matter of time before the next body is dumped in my alleyways right? You let the kid help and report information to me and I’ll act as messenger.”

“You know this will mean you’ll have to be at the BatCave more, right?”

“Trust me, I’m painfully aware.”

“I have a question though,”Tim spoke up. “You removed a viscous green substance from the bodies. What was that? It was glowing.”

“Ectoplasm.”

“Pit water, but more pure,”Jason translated as he finished sewing up Dis’ leg.

“I still don’t know what that means,”Distortion whispers under his breath as Jason ignores him.

“So definitely something supernatural related,”Dick merely took it as a clarification.

“Exactly.”

“So our murderer is what, undead?” Tim rubbed his forehead a little in frustration.

“Probably.” Dis moved to examine the wrapping on his leg a moment before looking at the group as a whole. A small quirk to his lips as if he wanted to say something else but held back. “I’m not completely against working with Batman, but it’s just--”

“Just?”Dick pressed gently. “We won’t tell, you know. I hope Hood has spoken that much of us.”

“Yes, I know you two won’t tell. That is why it’s you two here. Closest people to the case right? I’ll help from the sidelines. Give you my information. Share, what I can but what I need is if you discover a body let me see it before you do anything.”

“What do you mean?” Tim crossed his arms a little, in a more relaxed way than before.

“I’m going to be honest, I think we’re up against a ghost. Which means a whole lot of issues for more than just you and I. If I can get my hands on the ectoplasm left on the scene I can start working on tracking him.”

“You mentioned Zatanna earlier. Do you think bringing in people who know that sort of magic will be any help?” Dick asks genuinely.

“No. No. No Magic users.” Distortion’s words were quick. Dick and Tim shared a look recognizing the panic in his voice. Jason said nothing off to the side either. The words hard to understand and distorted in their own right. Was that how he got his name? Jason walked over and rested a hand to his shoulder, the young man taking a deep breath, or really, several. The room dropping a few degrees.

How powerful of a meta was he? Tim noticed Jason’s hand grabbing the youngers wrist face dropped in serious thought as he counted heartbeats. Distortion pulled his arm away from him.

“I’m fine Hood,”he hissed out before looking back in the direction of the two. “No. Can you imagine how widespread the chaos would be if any of the mainstream powerful magicians found out about a Ghost being strong enough to commit murder? It would turn Gotham into even more of a bloodbath. They exist but they’re not supposed to be powerful enough to be so--so.”

“Consistent?” Jason offered before stealing Distortion’s arm again to check his pulse.

“Hood.” Another threatening glare between the two of them. Silent, but a conversation nonetheless. One Distortion obviously lost. “But yes. Consistent. There’s a reason Ghost’s aren’t commonplace here.”

“Wait, here,”Dick frowned this time. The two would be having serious conversations about not only Jason but his apparent ward.

A deep breath from Distortion. “Whoops, yeah, I’ve said far too much.”

“If you’re from the future, we've dealt with that kind of stuff before,”Tim offers an olive branch to the man. A hesitance in doing so.

“As long as you understand one thing, I don’t care how you identify me,”he chuckles standing up as Hood frowned and released his hand. He moved and made his way witha limp to the front of the warehouse.

“Dis!”Jason called out after him. “We need to ask about you--”

“Shut it Hood!” A frustrated groan and hands running down the side of his face. “Just know that I don’t exist. You never saw me. You don’t know who I am. It’s safer for everyone that way.”

And though, they saw him leave it was like he was gone and never was there in the first place. A cold chill coming in through the now open door and causing Jason sigh sitting down where he was.

“He’s a character,”Dick started. “His mood dropped there at the end.”

“Yeah.. he mentioned Justice League Dark to me once in passing too. I think he has beef with them. “

“It would explain why he’s so testy about magic users, especially if he can see the things they can too, without a spell.” Tim spoke up rummaging through the file some more looking over the hand scrawled tedious notes. Even the original workings through several translations with picture through history of Ghost speech written on the walls. It was more than Tim had ever thought he would have on the guy.

Dammit. Tim hadn’t gotten the chance to apologize to him. Fuck. Maybe he could chase him? He couldn’t be super fast with that injury, but then again he did have that whole weird disappearing act up his sleeve.

Tim was missing something. They both were missing something and it seemed very important they figure it out to unlock this case. He wished the man had the clean photos of the writing but it seemed he had similar bad luck with them. There were photos but they sure were blurry as fuck.

“Red.”

“Huh?” He looked up between the two to see which one called him. It was Dick.

“Any other questions to Hood? We gotta go finish our patrols before B starts asking questions.”

“Fuck, yeah. I have questions, too many, though. Distortion was honest all the way through. He hesitated on saying he was a meta though, and the fact he doesn’t want people to think he exist is concerning.”

“He lets me know he exists.” Hood snorts motioning to the discarded box of gummies from earlie.

“He trusts you, that much is obvious,”Dick gave a small chuckle. “Guy has more walls up than the fucking pentagon, but at least we could hack past those.”

“He wears his heart on his sleeve honestly,”Hood pulled off his helmet to reveal the domino mask underneath. “Trust me. He’s guarded about his past. About what and who he is but his real personality shines through a lot. I take him to the soup kitchen for me and he watches me back during particularly rough land grabs from other mob bosses.”

“He knows about the pit, which is more than any other civilian has ever found out,”Dick pointed out.

“You could say that again, this answered a lot if he’s right but fuck. It also gave us a lot more fucking questions.” Normally Dick would be on his ass all day for that swear jar money, it seemed he had decided not today.

“Let me be clear. What he said is right. He’s a fuckin’ ghost for all things considered. He knows far too much shit to be just a civilian. Trained too much to be a civilian. If he doesn’t have training he has experience. His knowledge of things far beyond our reach, our control? It’s uncanny.” Hood motioned for the file back and Tim gave a whine.

“Calm down Babybird I’m just gunna go make you a copy really quick of what’s in here,”there was an obvious eye roll to his voice that caused Dick to snort.

“Leave him along Little wing,”Dick teased lightly. “The mans was distracted on a date Wednesday and he’s been out of it ever since.”

“NIGHTWING, once again NOT a date!” Tim insisted looking at his traitorous brother.

“Uh huh, tell that to your little black haired friend who was laughing at practically everything you said.” A smirk as Dick playfully leaned on his knees.

“You are not doing this to me right now, I swear to god.”

“A date?”Jason’s turn to smirk leading the duo into his office. Medical supplies sitting on his desk as he moved to the copier.

“We can’t leave without that file,” Dick began moving to flop onto Jason’s couch. “So I’m going to temporarily enjoy this~”

“It wasn’t a date,”Tim insisted. “We literally just fucking met!”

“So you took him to a coffee shop and paid for his food and drink?” Dick offered.

“He’s my partner for the semester for my 101 Linguistics class!! We have a lot in common!”

“Dateeee~~~”

“No.”

“I don’t know Babybird, that does sound like a date.”

“You two are fucking impossible oh my god. He’s smart and speaks a million and a half languages guys! We started talking about those. He knows fucking Tagalog!”

“Oooo the baby bird got himself another genius to fool around with,”Dick wiggled his eye brows.

“Are those copies printed yet?”

“Almost,”Jason smirked.

“I might as well just finish this shift alone tonight. Face the wrath of B of doing it by myself than deal with you two.” Tim goes for the door.

“Okay okay,”Dick lightened up. “We’re glad you finally found a friend, not a date, a friend.” Jason and him shared a look which caused Jason to snort. Motherfuckers.

“I have friends!”

“A non-superhero friend,”Jason emphasized as he began gathering papers and clipping them together. “You‘ve needed one of those. One you’re not constantly worried about on the field. Or even better, one who won’t die as easily.”

“Hey!”

“He’s right though RR,”Dick spoke back up this time. “Proud of you. We do have to go so we’re gunna take those files and scedaddle. Anything else we need to talk about?”

“One more thing about Dis… he’s a good kid. I promise, but he can be brutal and obsessive at times. If you see shit involving him going down I need you all to promise to not intervene unless his life is in danger. He can handle himself but he is also,”Jason contemplated his words there for a moment. “He’s got the skills down and the experience under his belt but he has plenty other things going on that can leave him vulnerable during battle. There’s a fine line between him fucking with people and him struggling. If he uses his meta powers, join in because he’s doing to fucking drop afterwards.”

“Drop?”Dick sounded concerned and they both shared worried glances. “Is that why you were checking his pulse earlier?”

“… yeah.”

“Can we ask what specifically you were looking for?”

“I promised i wouldn’t rat him out. I am not going to break his trust like that.”

“Fair,”Tim took the paper’s from Jason’s hand folding them neatly and shoving them into his belt. “Ready to go Big Bird?”

“You bet. Catch you on the flip side Hood.”

“You too Nightwing. RR, get some fucking sleep please. I will call Kon.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Tim would have made eye contact if it weren’t for the masks. “I slept a day or two ago!”

“A day or two ago,”Dick mimics. “Yeah exactly the problem, now come on Red.” Dick almost dragged him away before Tim could respond to Jason’s threats any further.

“THIS IS NOT DONE HOOD.”

“YES IT IS RED.”

“FUCK YOU.” Cue Tim flipping off the Red Hood as they left. The quiet sounds of grappling hooks going off and then silence settling over the warehouse and Tim left with far too many questions and concerns. What kind of Meta can’t handle using his own abilities? He thought that wasn’t how that worked.

At least Tim had gotten something out of tonight. He had liked Dis. The man was a firecracker and funny when he wasn’t being serious. A bigger Damian if you would, but at least Hood had a better control over this one. At least he trusted this one not to outright stab him. Ha, Big Damian. Their little brother would definitely clash with Dis if/when they met. Tim was almost excited to see it happen.

“So what are we telling B again?” Tim voiced silently as they were a few houses down.

“We found a lead but had to turn off coms so we couldn’t be found. The lead wanted total security.” Dick replied with ease. “Hey Oracle.”

“Nightwing—“Tim didn’t get to finish his statement before Oracle’s voice came online.

“Ready? I’ve been spewing lies for hours now Nightwing. You owe me.”

“Yeah yeah. I know. I’ll come by and make dinner one night, we can watch a movie.”

“Movie night?”Tim asked.”Can I join?”

“Yes you can Red, thank you for asking.”

“We should stop the small talk before B spasses.”

“Probably. Reconnecting.”

B’s voice was immediate. “Nightwing, Red Robin, report. Why were your coms offline?”

Tim was letting Dick trip over himself with this one quite enjoying the show.

————————

Damian Wayne liked to think, no he knew himself to be the best of the children when it came to several things. Grades(mostly only being topped by Drake), Fighting, and most importantly Stealth. The only other one coming close to him being Greyson with his light feet and acrobatic training.

So when his father had come to him telling him tonight he would be checking up on Hood instead of their normal routines, honestly, Damian had been excited. Excited at the prospect of a fight. Excited at the idea of proving himself worthy to his father.

What he had been told and what he knew though were two different questions.

He knew Red Robin and Nightwing were supposed to be patrolling the docks.

He knew Jason Todd Aka Red Hood was acting quiet and suspicious and had been for months.

He knew that Father would be annoyed that the trio of them were meeting.

What he had been told though was another thing.

He’d been told to keep his head down.

He’d been told that Red Hood was violent, Damian had already thought otherwise in the guy who made him vegan cookies and sneakily brought them to the manor and set them on Damian’s bed every time. He got along with Todd even if it was in their silent sparing sessions during his rare visits.

He was totally not jealous to see the very obvious affection he was showing for somebody— some nobody. His father had asked him to watch Jason and then leave and report back, that was all. He was to not engage and while originally the plan had in fact been to just hang out with Jason for the night, things had obviously changed.

Something felt off about the stranger clad in black. Whispers through the air like a mistake. Something was wrong with that guy, and not just in the fact that he was obviously injured. Something was just off. That also meant he didn’t trust that man around Todd.

He moved closer keeping an eye on what was going on the slow curling and whisp of ideas floating inside of him.

The pit calls

It whispered. A familiar feeling when Todd was near, yes. A longing feeling drawing him closer to the man with Lazarus water running through his veins, but it had never called this loud before. He hadn’t even told the others he could tell when he was near the pits of Gotham. The festering bubbling green waters.

When the stranger left, his feeling of the pit began to die down to the quiet hum of the familiarity of Jason.

And then it was behind him.

“You did a pretty good job hiding you know.”

How was he able to see him… Damian looked back unsheathing his katana pointing it at the stranger who was leaning against the door to the building bright green goggles glowing with that unearthly Lazarus green.

The man put his hands up stepping out of the shadows. Gently moving to push the katana out of the way as he began to circle Damian, and for the first time in his life.

Damian felt like prey.

Like the predator before was watching with a smirk. He gave a gentle smile but Damian noticed the sharp fangs protruding from his mouth as he gave a sinister smile.

“If you weren’t radiating ectoplasm I wouldn’t have been able to detect you,”he gave a low chuckle that reverberated through Damian’s veins.

“Who are you?” Katana remaining up as they seemed to circle each other. Damian in a defensive position.

“Come on, I think the question you’re more curious about is what I am.”

“Then answer whatever question you wish.”

“So cold for the young Robin. Red and Nightwing have so much more spunk than you.”

“I can show you spunk.” He bolted forward at the man who dodged hands behind his back. Dangr. Danger. Danger. It filled his senses no, it consumed them. What the fuck was he. His Lazarus sense was on fire. Blinding. Nauseating.

So when he felt the stranger pulse with the energy of the pits calling upon it from just somewhere he felt overwhelmed dropping to the ground unable to stop himself from puking. He expected the figure to attack him. Kill him in his moment of weakness.

But no.

Instead he felt a gentle gloved hand rubbing his back and the figure was crouched next to him rubbing small circles.

“Shit, sorry kid. I just wanted to fuck with ya’ didn’t think you were that sensitive to me,”he apologized with genuine concern in his voice. “Fuck.”

He smacked his hand away wiping his mouth breathing heavily. The figure stepping away getting the cue.

“Leave Gotham… you thing.”

“Thing? Now that’s hurtful.” The man chuckled. “Look. I am sorry for what it means from a stranger. I got to go and I’m sure you do too. I don’t think you want your fellow birdies to find out you were here right?”

“I don’t follow directions from monsters.”

“I’m not a monster.”

“You radiate danger. It’s in your entire being.”

“I didn’t realize I still radiated that. I didn’t even know those infected could still pick up on me, different breed and all.”

“Different breed?.”

A small gentle smile. “Different breed of those infected with that you guys call the pits. I’ll keep away now that I know though, but if I have to fight near you kid. You’ll have to get that sense of yours under control.”

“I can’t control it.”

“Yes you can.”

The man handed him his katana back before backing up again.

“I’ll stay right here,”The man gave a smile moving to sit down himself. “Close your eyes. Feel where all the energy is.”

Damian hesitated. Would this be weakness? Was he the enemy? He slowly adjusted to sit like him closing his eyes focusing on the feeling.

“Imagine it as a bubble. A giant bubble as far as your reach will lead you.” Damian could feel the waters through the man and feel Jason and his movements next door.

A slow growing toxic green bubble seeming to encompass all he could sense.

“Good. Now take a deep breath and deep in your chest pull that bubble in with every breath. Slowly. It’ll overwhelm you if you try to reign it in al at once.”

Damian obliged, what the fuck was he doing. “No. It’s not working you are lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I am not going to listen to someone maddened by the pits far more than Hood.” The man put his hands up again.

“Then be my guest to faint next time I do more than flare my abilities.”

“Who are you…”

“A friendly,mostly. if you need some help, though Feel free to ask Hood all about who I am.”

And with a blink of an eye he was gone, and Damian knew he was right. He had to fucking move. He rose with shaky knees.

His father did not need to know about the powerful entity able to bring him to his knees. Maybe he did? Would the being be able to bring him to his knees too?

No. He would not his weakness. He would not let anyone know what a walking pit of toxic waste that person was. Not until he could determine what exactly could bring him down. For now, all his Father would know was that Jason was going over some of his own investigations details. That is all. He moved positions to readjust himself to look into one of the windows. Only leaving when the sun began to peak over the horizon.

He was surprised his body handled making it back at all. Ignoring the brief look of concern and comment from Alfred about how pale he looked as the child changed and headed to bed for the few hours of sleep he would obtain.

He wasn’t going to tell anyone about that.

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#danny phantom #danny phantom au #dcxdp #danny fenton #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #batfam #danny phantom is a little shit #tim drake #dc x dp fic #red robin #dead tired #nightwing #tim drake x danny fenton #red hood #jason todd #batfamily

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beezusvreeland · 10 months

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dear reader - chapter 6

summary: Miguel took the reader’s love and friendship for granted. Something he learns reading her column, when it’s too late…Or is it?

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader // matt murdock x reader

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Chapter 6

“Matthew?”

“Please call me Matt.”

The man in the suit turned his head to the side, showing his grin. He got up from his seat and walked to the other side of the table, pulling up a chair for you to sit on. The gesture surprised you, but felt nice. You thanked him and he went back to his chair.

“I’m glad we are doing this. Foggy and Karen had nothing but good things to say about you”, Matt sounded genuine as he adjusted his black lens glasses on his face.

“Well, they are also very obsessed with you.” You imitated the voice of a movie trailer narrator: “He is a lawyer…that does good. A great guy who boxes…?”

That earned you a laugh from Matt.

“It’s sweet, but also sort of embarrassing, those two are like my proud parents”, Matt said. “Wait, how did boxing even become a topic of conversation?”

“A friend of mine might have suggested that he would kick your ass if you didn’t treat me well and Foggy was just like, ‘nah, bruh, I don’t think so, he also boxes’. Or something like that.”

“Oh, should I be scared of your friend?”

“Not really”, you chuckled. “I mean, he is one of the best hairdressers in town and has a lot of abilities regarding scissors and blades. So, there is that…”

“You’re friends with Sweeney Todd, got it.”

“Don’t ever say that to Pav if you meet him, he’ll be extremely offended. He hates Sweeney Todd, says it’s bad for business.”

“Pav seems like quite a character. I like him already.”

You smiled at that.

“He really is. I think you would get along.”

Realizing what you had just said, you started panicking: “I mean, it’s just a hypothesis, not an invitation, because that would be weird, we just met. And why would you want to meet my friends, who are basically my family, when we haven’t even had a meal”.

Matt arched his eyebrows, trying to hold a laugh.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Matt, I don’t know what just…”, you groaned. “I had a moment and…Shit, I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing.”

“No, no, not at all, don’t worry”, his hand searched for yours on the table. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it is, I just…It’s been a long time since I’ve done this”, you gestured between the two of you, quickly realizing your mistake. “Sorry, I motioned between the two of us”, Matt smiled at that and nodded. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve been on a date and you’re really charming and this place is really nice, and the whole thing just makes me nervous.”

You were fully ready to grab your purse, excuse yourself and leave. And never step inside Foggy’s bar again. But Matt just squeezed your hand, his thumb making circle motions on your knuckles. It felt weirdly intimate. It was his way of telling you that it was okay simply being who you were.

“Listen, it’s okay. Just think of this as two people with friends in common having a nice dinner. How does that sound?”

“Good. I like that.”

“Great”, he gave your hand one last squeeze before waving at the waiter to order your drinks. Two glasses of a wine suggested by the maitre, who recognized Matt immediately. Most of the staff seemed to know him and that made the service extra special: free appetizers would show up at the table and they let you and your date order your meals from a secret list that wasn’t on the official restaurant menu.

When you asked him about the special treatment, Matt shrugged and, shyly, told you that he had represented the small business in a lawsuit against a big corporation. He barely charged them, hence earning the eternal gratitude — and incredible food — of his clients.

That made the dinner even more exciting, and you found yourself having a good time trying out different foods and drinks while sharing stories with Matt. It was like your mini freak out didn’t even happen.

“What you do also involves a lot of writing. I can’t even imagine the amount of reports you have to turn in”, you take a sip of your wine.

“It’s a very different type of writing, though. Law reports…in braille? Come on now”, his emphasis in the last sentence almost made you spill your drink. A smile took over Matt’s face. “I only do those because I absolutely have to. If I could, I would only do field work.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You know, meeting clients, doing in person research, being in the courtroom.”

“Is being in the courtroom as exciting as pop culture depicts it?”

“Are sleepless nights writing as fun as people think?”

Touché.

“God, no. I have a personal rule about that, actually. If it’s not urgent and I’m not able to finish before 6pm, it can be done the next day.”

“Aren’t there crazy deadlines? Karen is always running against time in the paper.”

“She covers breaking news, which is probably the craziest and most demanding position in this area. You have to really love it to be able to handle it. And Karen does, God bless her, but I’m not built like that”, you paused, noticing Matt was still paying attention to what you were saying. “I usually do more in depth pieces and interviews, and those take more time. The deadlines exist and still aren’t ideal, but I try my best to stay on top of it and organize my routine. As a freelancer, I have to, for my own peace of mind.”

“You are a great writer, by the way.”

“How would…”

“I asked Karen to send me a few links.”

“Oh my God.”

“I hope you don’t mind, I was just curious, you know, wanted to learn a bit more about you before the date. So I read some of your stuff. Listened, actually.”

“That is…very sweet of you, actually. You didn’t have to do that”, and suddenly your cheeks are very pink. “God, you really are one charming son of a bitch. Respectfully, I mean.”

The two of you laughed together, you still felt embarrassed, but also more at ease than when you arrived at the restaurant.

“Gotta say, that’s the first time anyone has used that line on me.”

“Oh, please, I bet you are a menace in the wild, charming women’s panties off.”

“Am I charming your panties off?”, he asked smoothly, a smirk on his face.

“You wish.” Of course he was, but you couldn’t give in any more to him at that point, the wine and the nerves had already caused an impression.

“I do, actually”, Matt smiles and you chuckled like a schoolgirl with a crush, such an immediate reaction, your mind was fighting but your body was in it.

“Has dating always been this fun? Is it supposed to be this fun?”

“It’s not always, but I guess it should be, yeah.”

“Guess I have missed a lot, then”, you said, still recovering from the laughter.

“If you don’t mind me asking, and it’s completely fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but were you in a long term relationship during all this time or…?”

“Not really, no. I…to be quite honest, I’ve never been lucky when it comes to guys and dating and relationships.”

“How come?”

“I guess I’ve mostly attracted guys who only wanted to be my friend or that did have some interest in me, just not enough to be public. I don’t know.” There you were, on a first date with a guy, a nice one, a really fucking great one, and you had already spilled one of your secrets, which is also your biggest fear: not being good enough.

Matt searched for your hand again.

“You used the correct term: guys. You deserve a man.”

***

Miguel was in a terrible mood. Alchemax had given his team a ridiculous deadline to finish a research, in spite of him letting them know, several times, that the tests they were working on wouldn’t be ready until then and that could be really dangerous for the final product. “That sounds like a you problem to me”, one of the suits from the board told him. It pissed Miguel off so much he just locked himself in his office, before he could do anything that would get him fired or, worse, arrested.

By lunch time, Lyla knocked on his door. She had ordered empanadas from the place he loved downtown, even though Miguel had said he didn’t want to eat. He did it, anyway. Lyla had been working for him long enough to know that her boss needed some stress eating — and that the Alchemax ordeal wasn’t the only thing bothering him.

“I finished Gossip Girl yesterday, you know”, said Miguel, in between bites.

“How did you like it?”

“They ruined it. Dan being Gossip Girl? I would rather not have a reveal at all, it’s so dumb.”

Lyla opened her mouth, but was interrupted by Miguel.

“Why do they have to ruin everything? Why can’t things just be fun anymore? You get home, make your protein shake and watch the silly show you love and that’s it? What’s the point in complicating it?”

“I’m not sure I follow, boss…”, Lyla wasn’t sure he had even listened to her. It was like he was frustrated with himself.

“And then, like it wasn’t enough, they rebooted the damn thing”, Miguel angrily threw his napkin on the trash can — and missed it. “It’s even worse, it tries so hard to be iconic, but they ruin everything, Lyla, everything! The teachers are fucking Gossip Girl!”

“Migs, I’m just going ahead and forgive you for spoiling the new show. I hadn’t watched it yet”, Lyla murmured. “But what the actual hell is going on?”

He finally looked up at her.

“Pardon my language, but you’ve been through shit worse than this at this company and have remained completely unbothered”, she pointed. “What is this now? I thought your new found liking for Gossip Girl was funny, now I’m actually concerned. What the fuck is going on?”

It was like Miguel had just woken up from a bad dream. He should’ve been annoyed with Lyla, but even as lost as he was, he knew that Lyla calling him out on his shit was a good thing. His hands go through his face upwards to his hair.

“I don’t know…fuck!”, he cursed. “I made a mistake and disappointed…a friend…”

Lyla nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“And I didn’t get to apologize like I should have and it’s been bothering me.”

“Why can’t you just apologize now?”, Lyla said softly, as if she was dealing with a wounded animal.

“Because I…”, that conversation felt like torture to Miguel. He rather deal a million times with the Alchemax executives instead of having to open up. “I found out that one time was the only one where I hurt this person’s feelings.”

“Let me guess: they don’t know that now you know?”

“Yeah and…it’s like I can’t make it up for what happened before or be better in the future. It doesn’t look like they want to be friends with me anymore.”

Miguel was looking down at his hands when he noticed his vision was starting to get blurry. A small dot of water fell on the table, then another. He was crying. The feeling was so strange to him, he couldn’t even remember the last time he cried. It was painful, like several little monsters trying to get out from his body through desperate sobs.

He doesn’t have the courage to turn to Lyla, it was embarrassing enough that he had to witness him in that state. But she stayed quiet, unusually so, until he calmed down. She handed him a few napkins.

“I think that, before fully facing this situation, you should speak to someone”, Lyla took a deep breath.

“I’m talking to you right now.”

“Not me, a therapist.”

***

Dear reader,

One of the things that made me terrified of dating is my lack of experience. It goes beyond the physical aspects. Being a late bloomer, I had no idea of what it was being desired. I wanted it, desperately, but never got close enough to consider what that meant or would feel like.

I am not sure I know all that much about it now, but it is definitely more than I knew then. What surprised me the most is how sweet it can be. Talking a lot, seeing the effort they put in spending more time with me and not being in the dark about what is happening. A dinner is not just a dinner, it is a date, and they want to take you to their favorite spot in the city because it means a lot to them, and so do you — which you know because they make a point to tell you that.

I am enjoying the present, the feeling of getting to know someone new without taking everything too seriously. But just knowing that process doesn’t have to be one of the labors of Hercules gives me a lot of hope. We don’t have to do everything by ourselves, a lesson that is a huge relief.

Until next week! And remember, never take advice from someone who’s falling apart.

Love,

The writer

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