katiemwrd110-016-blog

[noirbynight]

“Robbery Attempt In Inglewood, 1957″. Los Angeles Examiner Collection, USC Digital Libraries.

[shmowder]

idk what the construction workers outside my window are doing but it definitely sounds like the opposite of construction

[mariocki]

New Scotland Yard: Reunion (1.12, LWT, 1972)

"It's not his style!"

"And Clifford's not a very pleasant character."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just I think he's being getting under your skin."

"Well, he'd get under anybody's skin."

"Because he got away with it, before?"

"There are no facts to prove that Clifford wasn't there. Just as there were no facts to prove that he wasn't a party to the bank job, but you and I and every man in this force know that he was."

"And there's damn all we can do about it. Look, I'm not stitching him up just because he happens to have made idiots of us in the past; we have to prove, conclusively, without supposition, who killed Gemmell."

[flashhwing]

every fandom i'm in i'm like "oh i'm gonna write them all just hanging out and having a good time at a mountain house" n then i never do but THIS TIME it's a PLOT POINT in the modern au so i have to (they say, ignoring the fact that they're not actually planning to write the modern au)

[your-funky-human-companion]

imagine a world where you could pop off your body parts and pop other's back on

personally, i think my family would have a ball freezer

[spilladabalia]

Cos - Populi

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.

[goggles-mcgee]

Phantom Fudge

I love the fics of Danny settling into Gotham and having some sort of business and just absolutely confusing the Batfam with how flippant he is about the crime.

My take is, instead of a coffee shop or bookstore or occult shop, Danny opens a fudge shop!

His parents taught him, and he found he actually really loved it, and besides, his dream of being an astronaut was out of reach due to his unique medical readings. In this au, his parents learned about him being Phantom and took it well after a good period of spiraling because-Holy shit they shot their son. You may be asking, Goggles, didn't you just make a post that was all about Jack and Maddie not taking the news well? Yes. Yes, I did.

I go back and forth with wanting to salt them and not. I like both.

So anyways, Danny is the heir to the Ghost Throne, but he won't actually take up the official title until his time on Earth is naturally over. After everything got better with his parents and his regular ghost fighting buddies, he actually was able to raise his grades and graduate. Many teachers were amazed at the progress but really, Danny may not have been as smart as his parents and sister (he is an unreliable narrator and is actually very smart just not as conventional as his family) but before his accident he had done pretty good in school. The GIW was still a thing, but without the Fenton technology, they weren't doing as well as they previously did. His parents broke their contract after they rescued him from the GIW labs, it was a little after he told his parents about his halfa status and they came storming in to save him and all the other ghosts that were captured. After that, life got so much better. His parents listened to him, and he got to teach them all about his people. They started publishing more papers with actually accurate information and were doing their best to overturn the anti-ecto acts. They haven't accomplished it, but Danny was sure they would.

That's actually why he moved to Gotham. Tucker had the idea of contacting the Justice League to help with the anti-ecto laws, but their calls weren't being answered. Neither were the...strongly worded emails Sam sent in. So Danny did what he did best and jumped into something not entirely thought out but hoping for the best. He moved to Gotham so he could get close to Batman and ask for help. He got accepted into Gotham University on a scholarship. But he wanted to make some money on his own without his parents sending him some kind of allowance, and he didn't want to work at Bat Burger. He started selling fudge around winter at his school, and he got permission to do so.

From there, he got enough money to actually open a small fudge cart. Then he got enough for a small shop near his apartment which was rather close to Crim Alley so he hired some working girls to help with the shop and he employed any Alley Kids looking for some cash as delivery workers. (They only delivered in Crime Alley, though, but that was fine with Danny.) Danny loved his little fudge shop that he lovingly named Phantom Fudge, and the sign had a cute little ghost eating some fudge on it. When he was in school for classes, he left the shop in his friend Ginger's hands. She had been a working girl before, but before that, she had had experience working a small mom & pop kind of shop, so Danny felt good leaving her in charge. When Ellie visited, she helped out with the shop too.

Danny was thriving. Then he started getting customers of the ecto variety because, of course, he would. Apparently, he was something of an ecto filter for the shades and ghost of Gotham, so they would visit his shop to soak up some of the pure ectoplasm in the air. Then he experimented and made some ecto-fudge, which is what he gave to any ecto beings that entered his shop. Most couldn't pay, but they would give him a heads up if they saw anything shady happening around his shop.

Like a little heads up that some robberies were happening in the area, or some rogue was getting close. It was a nice little system they had. Though some ghosts came in just to tell him their unfinished business and like...he wasn’t King yet, but these were his people, so he tried to help them out as best they could.

One particular couple showed up a lot and would ask him to help warn their son of any danger they heard was brewing. They would ask him to leave messages for the son or any of his kids but also the butler if needed. Danby thought this guy had some great parents. They didn't cross over because they needed to make sure their son was safe and taken care of. It was most likely that they wouldn't cross until their son did by the sounds of it. He got permission to call them Grandma and Grandpa, which was weird, but he didn't question it.

Martha and Thomas were nice spirits, so he had no problem helping them out. But Danny is Danny and his well-intentioned help of course caught the eye of the whole batfam.

They had been receiving letters in the Manor that appeared mysteriously. The first one they had all thought was a prank from the many people there. It was a simple, 'Don’t go to the gala. Something bad will happen.' That started it all. They were all baffled but laughed it off, and those who went to the gala didn't know how to feel when the seeming wait staff took over the event and held the guests hostage.

A coincidence surely.

Then they got another note, 'Freeze is planning to do a B&E and snatch some equipment from a Wayne lab. Idk which one since you have so many.' And just like last time, the note was speaking the truth. It continued from there, and everyone tried to capture whoever or whatever was leaving the notes, but any cameras they had glitched out before returning to normal and showing a new note had showed uo somewhere in the Manor. Bruce was going crazy trying to figure out who or what their messenger was.

Alfred once found a note that said, 'Tim has been awake and pushing himself too far. He is going to crash.' He took it to heart though and made Tim rest and take a break. He would not let the note happen. Tim had had far too many crashes the past couple of months.

The note that broke Bruce, though, was small in words, but it made him feel crazy. It was his parent's death anniversary, and when he went to visit the exact spot, he saw a sticky note on the floor. He shakily picked it up to see all it said was, 'It's okay.'

Now he is really worked up and determined to find the note messenger.

While that's going on, Danny also gets some local vigilantes visiting his shop, and he is so excited to see them and try and be their friend so he can ask for help. Plus they seem to be fans of his fudge and that just makes him happy.

The batkids thing the Phantom Fudge shop owner is suspicious, but hot damn did he make some bomb ass fudge.

[callsigns-haze]

Unexpected twist

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Reader

Chapter Summary: Tim and Y/N's first date at a fancy restaurant is interrupted by a robbery, turning a romantic evening into a spontaneous takedown and leaving their relationship exposed to their curious colleagues.

Chapter Warning: This chapter contains a sudden shift from a romantic date to an intense, potentially dangerous situation involving a robbery, with moments of suspense, gun use, and police intervention.

A/N: My first fic about the rookie eeeeeeeeek

The evening was perfect—the kind of night that begged for romance. The sun had just set, leaving behind a soft twilight that bathed Los Angeles in shades of purple and gold. The upscale restaurant Tim Bradford had chosen was nestled in a quiet corner of the city, known for its elegance and discretion. It was the kind of place where celebrities could dine without being disturbed, and tonight, it was the stage for a first date that had been a long time coming.

Tim arrived first, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nerves. His usually steady hands betrayed a slight tremor as he adjusted the cuffs of his navy-blue suit. The suit was perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build, the sharp lines giving him an air of authority even out of uniform. The crisp white shirt he wore beneath it was open at the collar, revealing a hint of tanned skin, and his dark leather shoes were polished to a mirror shine. His hair was neatly styled, though a few rebellious strands fell across his forehead, softening the hard lines of his face. He glanced at his reflection in the window, making a mental note to ease up on the cologne—he wanted to make an impression, not overwhelm her.

Just as Tim settled into his seat, Y/N Y/L/N entered the restaurant, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. She was a vision in an emerald-green dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the rich color bringing out the warmth of her skin. The neckline was a perfect balance—elegant yet suggestive, hinting at the strength beneath the softness. Her hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle but impeccable, with a soft shimmer on her eyelids that caught the light just so. A delicate gold necklace adorned her neck, matching the small, sparkling earrings that completed her look. She moved with a grace that was both natural and practiced, each step exuding confidence.

Tim stood as she approached, his heart beating a little faster than usual. "Wow," he said, his voice dropping an octave, full of genuine admiration. "You look... stunning."

Y/N smiled, a hint of a blush rising to her cheeks. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, Bradford. I almost didn't recognize you without the uniform and scowl."

He chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "I save the scowl for the rookies. And for bad guys. I promise you won't see it tonight."

She raised an eyebrow playfully as she took her seat. "We'll see about that. I’m sure I could get it out of you if I tried."

Tim’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Careful, Detective. You don’t want to see me at my worst tonight."

"Oh, I’m not afraid of you," Y/N teased, her voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. "In fact, I’m looking forward to it."

Tim leaned in slightly, his gaze locking with hers. "You know, I wasn't sure you'd actually say yes to this. We've worked together for a while, and I didn’t know if you’d be interested in mixing business with… pleasure."

Y/N's lips curled into a slow, seductive smile. "Who says I’m interested in pleasure, Bradford? Maybe I just wanted to see if you’re as tough off-duty as you are on."

His grin widened, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, I’m just as tough, but I can be pretty charming when I want to be."

"Charming, huh?" Y/N’s tone was light, teasing. "I’ll believe it when I see it."

They continued to flirt as the evening progressed, their conversations flowing easily from work to personal interests, each revelation bringing them closer. The chemistry between them crackled like electricity, unspoken but undeniable. Every now and then, they would exchange a glance, both of them half-expecting a familiar face from the station to walk through the door.

"You know," Y/N said, breaking the momentary silence, "I keep thinking someone from work is going to walk in and ruin this."

Tim nodded, his expression softening. "Same here. It’s like we can’t escape the job, even on a night like this."

"Well, if they do show up, we’ll just tell them we’re working undercover," she suggested with a mischievous grin.

Tim smirked. "Yeah? And what exactly are we investigating?"

"Restaurant quality," she replied with a wink, making Tim chuckle.

Just as they were starting to relax, the door to the restaurant was thrown open with a loud crash, and the once tranquil atmosphere shattered like glass. A man in a black ski mask stormed in, waving a gun wildly in the air. The room fell into a stunned silence, every patron freezing in fear.

"Everyone stay where you are!" the man shouted, his voice edged with desperation. "Empty your wallets, your purses—now!"

Tim’s eyes sharpened, his instincts kicking in immediately. He looked at Y/N, who had already reached under the table, her hand on her off-duty weapon. Her expression had gone from flirty to deadly serious in an instant. She gave Tim a quick nod, and they both moved with a speed and precision that spoke to years of training and experience.

"Hey!" Tim barked, standing up suddenly. His voice was authoritative, commanding the room. "LAPD! Drop the weapon and get on the ground, now!"

The robber spun around, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected confrontation. His gun wavered, but his desperation outweighed his common sense.

"Don’t move!" he yelled, his voice cracking. But it was too late—Y/N was already moving, her gun drawn and trained on him with deadly accuracy.

"Put the gun down!" Y/N ordered, her voice steady, every bit the seasoned detective. "This doesn’t have to end badly for you."

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between the two officers and the terrified patrons around him. The tension in the room was palpable, everyone holding their breath, waiting for the situation to explode.

Tim slowly approached, his gun also drawn. "You’re outnumbered, and we’re not going to ask again," he warned, his voice low and threatening. "Drop it."

The robber’s resolve broke. His hand shook violently as he looked from Tim to Y/N, realizing he had no way out. With a defeated sigh, he let the gun slip from his fingers and clatter to the floor. Y/N was on him in an instant, kicking the weapon away and securing his wrists with a pair of handcuffs.

Tim kept his gun trained on the man until he was sure the situation was under control. As the adrenaline began to fade, he glanced around the restaurant, noticing the wide-eyed stares of the other patrons. Applause broke out, tentative at first, then growing louder as relief washed over the room.

Y/N looked up at Tim, a grin spreading across her face. "So much for a quiet evening, huh?"

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. "Yeah, I guess we have a talent for finding trouble."

Y/N stood, pulling the cuffed robber to his feet. "Or maybe trouble just finds us."

Before they could share another quip, the sound of police sirens filled the air outside, and moments later, a familiar group of officers burst into the restaurant, weapons drawn, ready to respond.

Nolan was the first through the door, followed by Harper, Aaron, and Lucy. Their faces were a mix of surprise and confusion as they took in the scene—Y/N and Tim standing over a cuffed suspect, both looking more like they were on a night out than responding to a robbery.

"What the hell is going on here?" Harper demanded, her sharp eyes narrowing as she holstered her weapon.

Tim and Y/N exchanged a quick look, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Lucy chimed in, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Were you guys on a date?" Lucy blurted out, the question hanging in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Tim felt his face flush, the color rising from his neck to his ears. Y/N seemed equally flustered, though she quickly tried to recover.

"Uh, we were just… grabbing a bite to eat," Y/N said, her voice a little too casual.

"Yeah, just happened to be in the right place at the right time," Tim added, though his tone didn’t quite carry the confidence he hoped for.

Nolan raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "A bite to eat? In suits and fancy dresses?"

Harper crossed her arms, clearly amused. "Right place, right time, huh? Sounds more like a date to me."

Y/N sighed, knowing they were caught. "Fine, it was a date. But in our defence, we didn’t expect to be playing hero tonight."

"Well, you certainly picked a memorable first date," Aaron remarked with a smirk, looking at the subdued robber. "Though, maybe next time choose a place that’s less likely to get held up."

Lucy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I knew it! I knew there was something going on between you two!"

Tim shot her a look, though there was no real heat behind it. "Can we maybe focus on the fact that we just stopped a robbery?"

Harper chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation. "Sure, Bradford. But you know this is going to be all over the station by morning."

Y/N groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Great. Just what I wanted."

Nolan grinned, clapping Tim on the shoulder. "Hey, at least you didn’t have to pay for dinner."

Tim couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess there’s that, still get to keep the two hundred in the budget."

As their colleagues began to process the scene and take the suspect away, Y/N leaned in close to Tim, her voice low and playful. "So, how about round two? Somewhere a little less public?"

Tim’s eyes lit up with a mix of humour and affection. "Sounds perfect. And maybe this time we can actually finish a meal."

As Tim and Y/N walk out of the restaurant, still riding the adrenaline from the robbery, Tim glances at her with a playful grin. “So, any ideas for our second date? Preferably somewhere without armed robbers?”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night. How about something a little more low-key? Maybe a quiet dinner at my place? I make a mean lasagna.”

Tim’s eyes light up at the suggestion, and he nods. “That sounds perfect. But just so you know, I’m bringing dessert.”

“Deal,” Y/N replies, smiling warmly. “And this time, let’s keep our badges out of sight.”

They exchange a look filled with anticipation, both eager for a date that will hopefully be free of interruptions—and a chance to really get to know each other.

Taglist:

@callsign-magnolia

@senawashere

@pandabiiissh

@mattsdirtylittlehoe

@siriuslyblackonback

@reignsboy19

@taina-eny

@billy-reads

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@chiefdirector

@serendipitouslife90

@justabigassnerd

@callsign-dexter

@kmc1989

@iliketopgun

@rosiahills22

[theturtlelovers]

のﾚﾘﾶｱﾉᄃ 丂乇ﾒ 

Pairing: Leo/fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Contents: Leo gets injured during patrol and he gets in the mood for some love making time Warnings: 18+, mdni, brief mention of blood from a wound, hickeys, creampies, unprotected p in v (wrap it up peeps) Wordcount: 4,139 Sentence Prompt: # 14 + 67

𝕊𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕤

Notes: Wow, this one actually took quite some time to finish, and I'm surprised by the word count. I believe this might be the post with the highest word count I have so far!

He didn't intend to get injured; it was purely accidental, or at least that's what Leo assured you. You had no reason to doubt him, aware that he prided himself on emerging from skirmishes unscathed. When you've inquired before, he likened the sensation of a human punch to a light slap. His tough, scaled skin rendered him relatively impervious to the average human's blows, which were what he typically faced on patrols during robberies, inmate escapes, and the like.

This time, the incident involved a random drunk man who had been ejected from a bar. The turtles happened to be passing by when they noticed the bar owner, looking quite irritated, forcibly escorting the inebriated individual outside. Sensing potential trouble as he observed the man stagger away, Leo dispatched Donnie and Raph to carry on with their patrol while he and Mikey hung back to ensure the drunk didn't cause any further disturbances.

Unfortunately, the drunk man did cause trouble, picking a fight with a teenager who accidentally bumped into him. Observing the youth's attire, Leo guessed aloud that the kid was likely on his way home from a late basketball game, given the sport's uniform he was wearing.

As was their nature, Leo and Mikey sprang into action without hesitation. The teenager took the opportunity to flee during the scuffle, which was for the best since he didn't need to be involved in the first place. Mikey initiated his peace-making efforts, his good-hearted nature leading him to let down his guard to appear friendlier. However, approachable as a mutant turtle might be, he was still an unusual sight for a drunk man grappling with the fear he was hallucinating. Blinded by alcohol-fueled rage, the man suddenly drew a Glock from his pants and pointed it at Mikey.

Fear and panic were emotions Leo found unfamiliar and unsettling. When moment April found them—though it was more of a rediscovery, considering she had known them prior to their mutation—he was primarily concerned with how she would react with the information of their existence, knowing she posed no physical threat to them. He hadn’t genuinely felt them until the Foot Clan blasted a hole in their sewer home, Shredder nearly beat their father to death, and he and the two youngest were captured like animals. Raph was missing, and in the midst of his concern for his siblings, Leo had little capacity to consider his whereabouts. Luckily, that situation was settled with Shredder's defeat and Sacks' arrest.

That heightened sense of awareness, once sparked, never truly faded for Leo. The persistent fear that someone could tear his family apart lingered constantly in the back of his mind. Your support during their moments of respite was invaluable; you had a gift for easing his anxieties, reassuring him of his strengths and the progress his brothers were making in self-defense. And even though you seldom mentioned it, understanding his mixed feelings on the matter, you once suggested that his brothers might eventually collaborate with the police force individually, rather than always as a team.

However, when Leo saw the gun aimed at Mikey, his youngest and sweetest brother, those feelings of fear and panic surged anew, compelling him to act instinctively. He positioned himself in front of Mikey, turning to shield them both with his shell. The sight of a second towering turtle startled the inebriated man into a frenzy, and in his alarm, he fired the Glock.

Mikey remained unharmed, but the bullet found its mark in Leo's thigh.

Just as quickly the situation happened, the man was apprehended and placed into police custody.

Ironically, Leo didn't even notice he'd been injured until Donnie brought it to his attention back at their lair. The wound appeared more severe than it actually was; it hadn't struck any vital arteries or tendons. Yet, as a surface wound, it bled profusely, likely exacerbated by adrenaline and his continued movement. Donnie easily fished out the bullet and stitched up the wound.

As Leo sat on the couch, he silently brooded, carefully masking his emotions while watching Raph and Mikey play video games. It was clear to anyone that Mikey felt guilty about the incident. Leo appreciated that Mikey was taking responsibility, acknowledging that his passive approach had escalated the situation, and offering a heartfelt apology. Despite this, a sting remained—not from the physical pain of the injury, which was linked to Mikey's inaction, but from the realization that Mikey was maturing. They were all growing up and evolving, a fact that brought both pride and a poignant sense of change.

Over the years, Raph had mellowed significantly. His anger became more focused during fights rather than exploding unpredictably like a tank's heat round. He even earned the trust to lead the team on some nights when the intensity was manageable. Leo vividly recalled the first time he challenged Raph to take the lead, fed up with his constant bickering. Raph, initially frozen with terror, was surprisingly humbled when the team returned more frazzled than when they had left. Although Splinter scolded Leo for his approach, there was a certain satisfaction in having Raph finally respect his leadership. Following the Kraang incident, Leo gradually began to relax, allowing Raph to take charge more frequently, initially with guidance. Over time, Leo found he needed to offer fewer and fewer pointers.

Donnie was still somewhat of a hermit, a trait that likely wouldn't change, which wasn't necessarily bad given his introverted nature. However, he was gradually coming out of his shell, engaging more with the world beyond his screens. Leo particularly appreciated Donnie's growing desire to improve his combat skills, as it provided a chance for the two brothers to spend one-on-one time together. Yet, as Donnie's skills sharpened, Leo found it increasingly challenging to best him in sparring matches. Even Raph, the physically strongest of them, was starting to struggle against Donnie.

Mikey was like experiencing whiplash with his dramatic transformations as he aged. The youngest was still brimming with energy, his jokes flowing as freely as candy from a pocket. Remarkably, he began taking accountability for his actions, cleaning up after his mistakes, and willingly taking on responsibilities without shirking them. However, Mikey's transition wasn't quiet. He often stonewalled during discussions about accountability and responsibility. His mood swings were abrupt, shifting from calm and content to inexplicably irritable when others presumed ignorance on his part. His bouts of anger, rivaling both Leo's and Raph’s combined, occasionally alarmed everyone, given that Mikey's default had always been to diffuse tension with humor. But almost as if it never happened, Mikey's emotional and mental state eventually stabilized into a more mature version of himself.

Everyone briefly wondered if Mikey was experiencing trauma, but the fact that he seemed more fulfilled with life after the tumultuous period reassured them and dispelled those concerns.

Then there was Leonardo, the leader in blue, currently wrestling with the idea that his brothers might no longer need him to look after their needs. He would always keep an eye on them, as neglecting to do so would contradict his nature as the eldest brother. However, the incident with the purple ooze, which caused a rift in his family, had truly opened his eyes. He never wanted to face your wrath again, having been viciously reminded that just because he wasn't used to the idea of his brothers possibly leaving to build their own lives—whether they remained turtles or mutated into humans—he needed to accept that they might not need him as much.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden warmth of your soft touch on his shoulders. How you managed to sneak up on him at times was beyond him. "Are you doing okay? Donnie told me what happened during patrol." Leo's insides melted as he looked into the gentle eyes you were giving him.

He nodded with a small smile, taking your hand in his and placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. "I'll be fine. I'll be back to normal before you know it." The corner of your lips lifted into a smile. So pretty.

Mikey spun around. "Oh hey, (Y/n)! When did you get here?" Raph only turned his head to look.

"Not too long ago." Your focus turned on them. "Heard you ran into a bit of trouble."

The youngest grimaced at the reminder but managed to maintain a lopsided grin. "Yeah, it was kind of my fault. But hey! We kicked their butts before they could even say 'Pizza Hut'!"

Raph rolled his eyes. "There was no way he was thinking of pizza in that moment, you doofus."

"Okay, but I was! I was hungry!"

You perched on the arm of the chair where Leo was sitting, gently leaning against his side as you watched the two exchange playful banter and dive back into their video game. Leo quickly made you comfortable, wrapping his arm around your waist and drawing you closer against him.

This had become what he looked forward to at the end of each day: returning to you, waiting with open arms and a sweet smile. You were his constant. His slice of peace. Although the years and the pressures of their lives had subtly shaped your personality, at your core, you remained the same person he had first met. His thumb gently traced the curve of your hip as he rested his head against you, quietly inhaling deeply to savor your scent. If you noticed, you didn't mention it.

As the day drew to a close, Leo finally had you all to himself in his room. He didn't mind sharing your company with his family, as it always comforted him to know how well you got along with them.

You moved around his room with such ease, changing into pajamas you had stashed in one of his dressers. It pleased him every time he thought about how pieces of you were scattered throughout his space. A hairbrush, aligned neatly alongside some hair products, sat on the very dresser you were rummaging through. A few photos of the two of you, and some with everyone else, adorned the cement walls. You had even added string lights, choosing blue because they reminded you of Leo, and you just had to get them for him.

Without a second thought, he pressed himself against your partially clad back, where you were still wearing a bralette. You let out a soft sound of surprise when he placed a kiss on your shoulder.

"Leo," you warned, though there was no real malice in your voice.

"Hmm?" He feigned innocence, continuing to plant kisses up the side of your neck.

"What do you think you're doing? You're injured," you remarked, slowly turning around to face him. He let you turn, choosing instead to press his lips to the top of your head.

His mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Tis but a scratch." That got a chuckle out of you.

“I’m serious, Leo. You really should be sitting down and resting,” you insisted, gently pushing him back toward his bed. While you both knew you couldn’t physically move Leo if he resisted, as he was a force of nature, he always allowed you to guide him where you wanted him to be.

Leo’s hands continued to roam freely over your body, tracing every dip and curve of your shape. Each contour was familiar to him, yet he remained tempted to explore it anew, regardless of how long you had been together. You followed his lead, your fingers tracing over his green scaled skin.

A brief, comfortable silence fell between you, unforced and easy. No words were necessary.

The tip of your nail lightly trailed over the raised scars lining his arms. "If I could, I would kiss away all of your scars." Your expression remained neutral as you observed him, but the waver in your voice betrayed your emotions. You empathized deeply with him, feeling the pain he must have endured as if it were your own.

There you go again, disarming him completely. In the past, he might have found this alarming, perhaps even considering you a threat to the defenses he'd built around his mind. But now, the idea of pushing you away was unimaginable. Your mind, body, and soul were too tantalizing and addictive for him to ever consider distancing himself.

Leo was at a loss for words as a small flush rose to his cheeks. Although he had never really viewed the scars he'd earned over the years as anything negative, it deeply touched him that you wished he had never had to endure the pain that caused them in the first place.

Since he couldn't find the words to express his feelings, Leo simply offered you a sweet smile and pressed his lips against yours. You sighed contently, naturally melting into his touch. The way your movements effortlessly synchronized always filled him with a sense of awe and satisfaction that no one else could provide.

The kiss deepened gradually, almost of its own accord, his tongue slipping between your plush lips in a practiced dance. His large hands encircled your waist, pulling you closer, your body significantly warmer than his turtle form could ever become.

With effortless strength, his hands moved to the underside of your thighs, lifting you up and gently setting you down on the bed beneath him. His breath was already heavy, despite having barely begun.

You squeaked in surprise, "Leo, you're going to hurt yourself." Your concern for him always came across as endearing.

"It’s sex, not an Olympic sport. I promise I can handle it," he chuckled, his voice rich with amusement. His mouth eagerly moved to the exposed skin of your chest, sucking gently. You let out a soft sigh, your eyelashes fluttering in response.

"Fine," you pouted cutely. "Just let me know if things start to get too much, okay?"

"Always." He murmurs against your skin.

Leo's fingers meticulously explored, slowly removing the remaining clothes you hadn't yet taken off. His lips seemed to move with a will of their own, seeking every curve and crevice to kiss and suckle on, leaving marks that were carefully placed where they wouldn't be visible to the outside world.

After what seemed like an eternity to you, Leo finally removed your bottoms, and his hands took their time exploring your most intimate area. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, watching intently as Leo's movements brought his face closer to the space between your thighs.

His tongue eagerly reached out, tracing a long, wet line along your core. If his eyes had been open, you might have seen them roll back in sheer pleasure. You tasted musky and sweet, a flavor he yearned to savor more deeply. Firmly holding your thighs to prevent you from closing them, he suckled on the sensitive bundle of nerves that quivered with need. You let out a moan, your muscles tensing beneath him. As he continued, one of his hands gently caressed your breast, kneading the soft tissue and pinching your nipple. Unnoticed by him, his own arousal was evident, tightly confined within his shorts, but he had no intention of attending to himself just yet—you were his focus, far more important in this moment.

The sounds you made were music to his ears. He groaned deeply, a resonant churring emanating from his chest, as his hips pressed desperately into the mattress. Your hands, seeking something to grasp, found his arms draped over your torso and thighs, holding onto them tightly.

"Fuck, don't stop..." you whined, your voice a beautiful plea. It thrilled him to his core knowing he was succeeding in pleasing you so thoroughly.

Leo remained steadfast in guiding you to the precipice of ecstasy, unafraid of the fall, for he would be there to catch you, as he always had. His tongue shifted its focus to your clit, allowing him to slide his thick finger into your sopping depths. When he curled his finger in that perfect way he knew you loved, it sent you writhing, a choked moan escaping your lips.

This was a kind of torture he relished, with spikes of intense need coursing through his body as he ground his pelvis into the soft blankets spread across the bed, now creased and bunched from your combined movements. Leo felt no shame as he groaned against your cunt, having long moved past any reservations in your shared sexual exploits.

Leo could tell you were nearing the edge as your thighs began to twitch more erratically under his grip, and your moans grew louder and came in shorter bursts. Somehow, his efforts intensified, driven by the desire to bring you to climax around his finger.

"Oh, God! I'm gonna cum!" Your feet kicked slightly, a reaction that might have made Leo chuckle if he hadn't been so intently focused, his attention fully claimed by the task between your legs.

A sharp suck on your clit coupled with a final, deliberate curl of his finger sent you into a state of bliss, your voice stammering out his name as a flush spread across your skin. As you shuddered beautifully beneath him, Leo marveled at his fortune, wondering what he had done to deserve such a blessing as you. His tongue enthusiastically lapped at the juices pooling from your core, keenly aware of how your inner walls clenched around his tongue each time he dipped it inside you.

Once you began to whimper, he finally pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. Seeing him, usually so composed, in such a disheveled state was shockingly obscene. You were certain Leo would be mortified if anyone saw him like this—flushed with arousal and messy from your release.

The sight left you more turned on than ever before.

"Lee," you called out, but he didn't respond, busy licking your slick from his lips and staring at your pussy with a dazed expression. "Leo." This time, he looked up, and the intense heat in his eyes sent goosebumps spreading across your arms. "Baby, I need you inside me, please."

Your plea sounded like the answer to every prayer he had ever uttered. In his haste to remove his shorts and position himself between your legs once more, a searing pain suddenly shot through his leg, halting his frantic movements.

He hissed, uttering a few 'ow's, and froze in place while gripping your knees to keep them steady. Your eyes widened with concern as you looked up at him.

"Are you okay?" You asked.

"Shit, yeah. Just give me a moment. I got a little ahead of myself there," Leo admitted. He took a few deep breaths, waiting for the pain to subside.

Despite the inconvenience of the gunshot wound, it fortunately didn't dampen the mood. Especially for Leo, since you were so patient beneath him, waiting for him to recover. However, you couldn't help but smirk at him.

You must have noticed him questioning the expression on your face. "I told you, you were going to hurt yourself," you said with a knowing look.

"Shut up," he huffed, his voice tinged with embarrassment. You giggled and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, tasting yourself on them.

The kiss served as a welcome distraction, helping him to ignore the flare-up of pain from his injury. He adjusted himself carefully, positioning the leg that would normally have pressed onto the injured one, onto his shoulder instead to keep you comfortable.

You quickly took his throbbing member in your hand, running the head along your soaked folds. Both of you moaned softly as the tip grazed the nerves that Leo had tenderly swollen with his mouth.

After a moment, you guided him inside you, and he sighed in relief as he felt your warm, wet walls envelop his cock. This sensation was familiar yet something Leo could never fully acclimate to, no matter how many times you welcomed him. You squeezed your eyes shut and let your head fall back with a soft whimper, feeling completely filled by him and still somewhat sensitive from your previous orgasm.

It was as if you encompassed Leo's entire sensory system. He could smell you, feel you, hear you—the aroma of your earlier climax permeating the room with the scent of sex. The way your inner walls fluttered around him, despite being nearly filled to the brink, was intoxicating. And the soft pants you took in an attempt to calm yourself only served to excite him further, making him even harder than before. Again, he wondered: What had he done to deserve you?

"Can I move?" Leo asked, aware that although you handled him wonderfully, he could still be a lot to adjust to, regardless of your experience with him.

You nodded and whimpered, "Yes, Lee, please..."

"Since you asked so nicely," Leo murmured, biting his lower lip to maintain some semblance of control over his voice. He began to slowly pull out, leaving just the tip inside, before pushing back in deeply.

The gentle pace was good initially, warming both of you up and allowing time to adjust to being so intimately connected. However, as Leo's desires grew more potent, it seemed you were also feeling the same urge for more. The way your brows began to knit together was a clear indication that you, too, were ready for him to intensify the rhythm.

Leo leaned down, adjusting the leg on his shoulder so it rested in the crook of his arm, allowing him to press his chest against yours to feel the intense heat radiating from you, a sensation he reveled in. His thrusts became sharper and quicker, eliciting gasps from your lips. The sweat accumulating on your skin deliciously rubbed against his plastron.

Despite the slight change in position reawakening the pain from his gunshot wound, Leo was too caught up in the addictive pleasure you provided to let it bother him significantly. The discomfort wasn't enough to stop him from continuing to drive himself between your legs, savoring everything you willingly offered to him alone.

With his face now close to yours, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, both to swallow your moans and to muffle his own sounds of gratification. Your tongues sloppily intertwined, failing to effectively silence your noises, but neither of you cared, too absorbed in each other's pleasure to give it any thought.

Although your whimpers were smothered by the kiss, Leo could still hear them escalating in pitch. You were close to the edge again, and he would have the privilege of feeling you come undone around him.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Leo panted, "Are you going to cum around me?" His breath was heavy, tinged with both desire and anticipation.

His hand slipped down to rub your clit, eliciting a whine from you as your head lolled back, exposing your neck. Seizing the opportunity, Leo gently nipped at the tender flesh there.

"Oh fuck! Don't stop, please!" you cried out, gripping his biceps for support as Leo drove you over the edge.

Leo groaned loudly into the curve of your neck as he felt your insides clench around him, the sensation both painfully intense and blissfully satisfying. It was exactly what he needed to push him over the edge, leading him to release inside your welcoming embrace. He didn't get a chance to warn you, but he knew you wouldn't have minded anyway.

You gently guided Leo by the chin to place one more kiss on his kiss-swollen lips. He hummed gratefully, his eyelids fluttering shut to fully enjoy the moment.

After a few moments of heavy breathing and basking in the afterglow, Leo carefully pulled away, prompting a brief whine from you at the loss of his closeness. He walked over to one of the many organized shelves in his room, where he kept stacks of rags. Ready to return to your side and envelope himself in the warmth you brought to his bed, he didn't linger long. He gently used a rag on you first, tenderly cleaning away any traces of your intimate moments together before he considered cleaning himself.

You peered up at him with a soft smile, your eyes tracking his movements. A grin spread across your lips when he finally finished, and you stretched your arms out, inviting him to return to your side.

He returned your smile, charmed by your cuteness, as he slid both of you under the duvet's covers. You snuggled up against his plastron, and Leo, feeling content, kissed your hairline and let out a satisfied sigh.

"You still doing okay, champ?" you asked, your voice lifting slightly with concern.

"Never better."

Tagging: @whygz​, @coulrofilia-sexuell, @southernblossoms,, @peachesdabunny​

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[herrscherofinsanity]

Sticky Situations

Four times Jimin "successfully" hides her superhero persona and one time she actually fails.

Fluff

Yu Jimin (Karina) x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Spider!Jimin is finally back

____________________

Wardrobe malfunction.

Yu Jimin stood in her room, struggling to pull her superhero suit over her head as quietly as possible. She had just received an urgent call about a bank robbery in progress, and she needed to spring into action as Spiderwoman; but as she wrestled with the fabric, she heard the telltale sound of y/n's footsteps approaching.

Panicking, Jimin glanced around the room for a hiding spot, but there was nowhere to conceal the suit in time. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the suit and hurled it across the room, hoping to buy herself a few precious seconds.

Just as Jimin released the suit, y/n swung open the door, her eyes widening in surprise at the sudden crash. "What on earth was that?" she exclaimed, peering into the room.

Jimin's heart raced as she racked her brain for an excuse. "Uh, probably just a raccoon," she blurted out, mentally kicking herself for the absurdity of her response.

y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "In your room?" she deadpanned, giving Jimin a pointed look.

Jimin shifted nervously, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Well, you know how it is in the city," she mumbled, hoping her roommate would drop the subject.

Thankfully, y/n seemed to take pity on her flustered roommate. "Anyway, I was actually looking for one of your hoodies," she said, changing the subject. "Mind if I borrow it?"

Relieved by the change in topic, Jimin nodded eagerly. "Of course not! Help yourself," she replied, gesturing toward her wardrobe.

As y/n rummaged through Jimin's clothes, Jimin couldn't help but steal glances at her roommate, feeling a familiar flutter of affection in her chest. Despite her clumsy attempt to conceal her secret identity, Jimin couldn't help but feel grateful for her roommate's understanding… and for the opportunity to spend a little more time with her.

____________________

2. I’m calling 911

Jimin trudged wearily back to the dorm, feeling utterly exhausted after a long night of crime-fighting as Spiderwoman. Her muscles ached, her clothes were torn, and she had a few scratches on her face and arms from her latest skirmish with a group of villains. She couldn't wait to collapse into bed and forget about the chaos of the night.

As she pushed open the door to her dorm room, Jimin let out a weary sigh, expecting to find an empty space where she could recuperate in peace. Luck definitely wasn’t on her side though. To her dismay, she spotted y/n lounging in the common area, looking up from her phone with a surprised expression.

"Jimin, what happened to you?" y/n exclaimed, jumping to her feet and rushing over to her disheveled roommate.

Jimin's heart skipped a beat at the sight of y/n's concerned expression, her blood pressure skyrocketing when her roommate cupped her face to get a better look at her injuries. "Oh, uh, it's nothing," she stammered, trying to play off her battered appearance. "Just got into a little scuffle with a raccoon, that's all." Another raccoon? What the hell is wrong with you, Yu Jimin?

y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Seriously, Jimin? Another raccoon?" she asked incredulously.

Jimin chuckled nervously, feeling the weight of y/n's scrutiny. "Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous," she admitted. "But this one was really aggressive. I just wanted to pet it, but it didn't seem to like the idea..."

y/n shook her head, a mixture of amusement and concern in her eyes. "You and your raccoons," she muttered, reaching for her phone. "I'm calling 911. You need to get those scratches looked at."

Jimin's heart swelled with gratitude as she watched y/n fussing over her. Despite her ridiculous excuse, y/n was always there for her, ready to take care of her no matter what. She couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for her roommate, grateful for her unwavering support and kindness.

As y/n dialed the number for emergency services, Jimin couldn't help but smile to herself. Maybe her excuse was a little far-fetched, but it was worth it to see the concern in y/n's eyes and feel her warm touch as she checked Jimin's injuries.

____________________

3. Sticky situation

Jimin and y/n were enjoying a quiet movie night together in their cozy dorm room. Jimin had suggested they watch a movie, and y/n readily agreed, eager for some quality time together.

As they settled in for their movie date, Jimin's heart fluttered with excitement at the prospect of spending quality time with y/n. She had been looking forward to this all week, relishing the chance to snuggle up with her girlfriend and enjoy a relaxing evening together. Jimin had even prepared a selection of snacks to share, eager to make the night extra special.

However, as the movie started playing and Jimin reached for the bowl of popcorn, she felt an odd sensation. The popcorn seemed to stick to her fingers, defying gravity as if held in place by an invisible force. Confused, Jimin tried to shake it off nonchalantly, hoping y/n wouldn't notice.

But the strange phenomenon persisted. Every object Jimin touched seemed to adhere to her hands, making it increasingly difficult for her to maintain her composure. She discreetly glanced at y/n, who was engrossed in the movie, completely unaware of Jimin's predicament.

Jimin's mind raced with questions. Was this some new manifestation of her powers? Had she accidentally activated her sticky web ability without realizing it? She frantically tried to release her grip on the popcorn bowl, but it stubbornly clung to her hand, defying her efforts.

Panic started to rise within Jimin as she struggled to conceal her growing distress. She couldn't afford to reveal her secret identity to y/n, not when their relationship was still so new. Desperate for a solution, Jimin racked her brain for a plausible explanation to offer when y/n inevitably noticed.

For now, she had to maintain the facade of normalcy, pretending everything was fine even as her world seemed to stick to her fingertips.

As the movie progressed, Jimin's attempts to discreetly deal with her sticky hands became increasingly comical. When y/n reached out to grab the remote, Jimin's hand stubbornly clung to it, resulting in a playful tug-of-war between the two.

"Hey, let go!" y/n laughed, trying to pry the remote from Jimin's grasp.

"I-I'm trying!" Jimin protested, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she struggled to release her grip.

After a brief struggle, Jimin finally managed to relinquish her hold on the remote, sending it flying into y/n's waiting hand. But as they resumed watching the movie, y/n couldn't help but notice the lingering stickiness on Jimin's fingers.

"Okay, what's up with your hands?" the younger girl asked, shooting Jimin a curious glance.

Jimin's mind raced as she scrambled for a plausible explanation. "Uh, I was, um, working with superglue earlier," she stammered, hoping her girlfriend would buy her excuse.

"Superglue?" y/n raised an eyebrow. "Why were you using superglue?"

Jimin's face flushed bright red as she searched for an answer. "I, uh, I was building a raccoon trap," she confessed sheepishly, hoping to deflect further questioning.

y/n shook her head in bemusement. "Only you, Jimin," she chuckled, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

Much to Jimin's delight and dismay, y/n reached out to hold hands, seemingly forgetting about Jimin's sticky predicament. Jimin's heart skipped a beat as their fingers intertwined, momentarily forgetting her sticky dilemma in the warmth of y/n's touch.

They stayed like that for a while, holding hands, with y/n's head resting comfortably on Jimin's shoulder. Jimin couldn't help but feel a rush of contentment wash over her as she savored the simple pleasure of being close to y/n.

In a tender moment, Jimin placed a gentle kiss on y/n's forehead, eliciting a soft smile from the other girl as she returned the gesture by pressing a kiss to Jimin's cheek. The affectionate exchange only deepened the bond between them, reaffirming the love they shared.

However, their intimate moment was interrupted when y/n whispered that she needed to use the bathroom and moved to get up.

y/n's attempt to get up was met with unexpected resistance as Jimin's hand remained firmly stuck to hers. With a bewildered expression, y/n turned to Jimin, her eyes wide with confusion. "Jimin, why won't you let go?" she asked, trying to understand the strange situation.

Feeling her heart race, Jimin blurted out the truth without hesitation. "Because I hate spending even a single second away from you," she confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her candid admission.

y/n's heart melted at Jimin's heartfelt words, and she leaned in to press a tender kiss against Jimin's lips. "You're such a dork," she murmured affectionately, her voice filled with fondness as she whispered against Jimin's lips. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Determined to break free, y/n made another attempt to get up, only to find herself landing next to Jimin once again as her hand remained glued to her girlfriend's. "Jimin, let me go!" she exclaimed, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in her tone.

____________________

4. Romeo and Juliet?

Jimin carefully approached the window of their dorm room, hoping to slip inside unnoticed. She had just returned from a late-night patrol as Spiderwoman and didn't want to wake y/n. As she reached for the latch, she froze when she heard the sound of water running in the kitchen.

She peeked cautiously through the window and saw y/n filling a glass at the sink. Jimin's heart sank as she realized her attempt to sneak in undetected had been thwarted. She hesitated, debating whether to continue with her plan or come up with a quick excuse if y/n spotted her.

As y/n turned around, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise as she caught sight of Jimin halfway through the window.

"Jimin? What the hell are you doing?" y/n's voice carried a mix of amusement and disbelief as she set the glass down on the counter.

Jimin's cheeks flushed crimson as she struggled to come up with a plausible explanation. "Um… well, you see… a raccoon… ate my keys?" she stammered, her voice betraying her nervousness.

y/n raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "A raccoon? Really, Jimin?"

Jimin chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. "Okay, maybe not a raccoon. I, uh, I was actually trying to recreate Romeo and Juliet with you."

y/n burst into laughter, shaking her head in amusement. "You're such a dork, Jimin," she teased, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Despite the embarrassment, Jimin couldn't help but smile at y/n's reaction. "Yeah, I guess I am," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "But hey, at least I'm your dork, right?"

y/n's expression softened, her heart swelling with fondness for her girlfriend. "Yeah, you are," she agreed, moving closer to help Jimin through the window. As they stood face to face, Jimin leaned in, her lips curving into a soft smile.

"Thanks, babe," she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude.

y/n silenced Jimin's words with a gentle kiss, her lips meeting Jimin's in a sweet and tender moment of affection. As they pulled away, a warm glow settled in Jimin's chest, grateful for the love and understanding of her girlfriend.

____________________

5. Don’t break up with me!

Jimin carefully slipped into the dorm room, her heart pounding against her chest. She had hoped to sneak in unnoticed, but luck wasn't on her side. Just as she closed the window behind her, she heard the creak of the door opening. Panic surged through her as she turned to see y/n stepping into the room, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Babe?" y/n's voice was laced with confusion and concern. "What are you doing in that suit?"

Jimin's mind raced, searching for an excuse, but her thoughts were jumbled, and her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest. "Um, well, you see... I was just..." she stuttered, her voice trailing off as she struggled to come up with a plausible explanation.

y/n's gaze intensified, her brows furrowing with worry. "Jimin, what's going on? Why are you dressed like that?"

“Please don’t break up with me!” Jimin blurted out in a panic.

“What!?”

Jimin took a step back, her heart sinking as she realized there was no way to hide the truth any longer. "I-I mean, I can explain," she started, her voice trembling slightly. "But first, I need you to promise me that you won't freak out."

y/n's expression softened, her concern deepening. "Jimin, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me, right? I'm here for you."

Jimin felt a surge of gratitude wash over her at y/n's words, but she knew that what she was about to reveal would change everything. Taking a deep breath, she made a split-second decision to trust her girlfriend with the truth.

"I'm Spiderwoman," she blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been hiding it from you, but I couldn't keep it a secret any longer."

y/n's eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open in disbelief. "Spiderwoman?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "But... how? Why?"

Jimin's shoulders slumped as she recounted the events that had led to her becoming the masked hero. She spoke of her desire to make a difference, to help those in need, and the responsibility she felt to use her powers for good.

"I know it's a lot to take in," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I needed you to know the truth. I couldn't keep lying to you."

y/n's gaze softened, her eyes brimming with understanding. "Jimin, I may not understand everything right now, but one thing's for sure, I'm here for you. Whatever you need, whatever you're going through, I'll be by your side."

Tears welled up in Jimin's eyes as she stepped forward, enveloping the girl she loved in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for being here for me."

As they held each other, Jimin felt a sense of relief wash over her. She had feared that revealing her secret would drive a wedge between them, but instead, it had brought them closer together.

“…You really won’t break up with me, right?”

“Oh my- Jimin!” the younger girl screeched.

“I’m sorry!”

“If I’m being completely honest with you, I like this Spiderwoman thing way better than when I thought you were obsessed with raccoons” y/n said, a pensive look on her face.

Jimin couldn't help but roll her eyes at y/n's comment. "Seriously?" she groaned, playfully nudging her girlfriend.

But before she could protest further, y/n leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Jimin's lips. The warmth of their embrace melted away any lingering tension, and Jimin found herself smiling against y/n's lips.

y/n chuckled, pulling back slightly to meet Jimin's gaze. "Just so you know," she started, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’ve always thought Spiderwoman was pretty hot."

Jimin grinned, her heart swelling with love for the girl in front of her. "Lucky me," she replied, leaning in to capture y/n's lips in another sweet kiss.

____________________

A/N: Hi, hello! Now, this isn't the story I've been working on, I just haven't finished it, but I didn't want to make you guys wait that much. Sooo I quickly wrote Sticky Situations as a gift. I'll finish the other story and upload it during the week. I also have a Chaewon request to write...

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one. Thank you for reading! If you want to request something feel free to do it, I'll get to it whenever I have free time.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 2. book club

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: An incident at the diner causes you to get shaken up, and Joel is there to help.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, mutual pining, PTSD type symptoms, flirting, jealousy, attempted robbery, reader gets mildly injured

WC: 6K

Series Masterlist

"So you see why it's so important you keep on top of your oil changes, yeah?" Mr. Connor finished saying as you set down his plate of waffles and sausage. You nodded enthusiastically while you filled up his coffee.

"I was never really any good at car stuff," you admitted, but he shook his head.

"If you take care of it, that car'll last you five more years and save you boatloads of money," he told you, wagging his finger. "You come by my shop any time and I'll take a look at that beater you're drivin', won't rip you off, either."

You laughed as you heard the bells above the door ring and Maria greet the next customer.

"I'll hold you to it," you said with a wink before turning to put the coffee back on the burner.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the familiar outline of a man settle into Joel's usual seat at the counter, and you felt the butterflies stir up in your stomach. You glanced up to make sure there wasn't any food getting cold in the window before pulling out your notepad and walking over. As you approached, you mentally braced yourself for the onslaught of his cologne, but as you got closer, you couldn't smell it. In fact, all you could smell was soap and maybe a faint hint of oil from his gun.

When you paused in front of him, the realization dawning on you, he glanced up from the menu with a smirk. A slow smile spread across your face when you looked him in the eye.

"Better?" was all he said, and you couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your lips.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you said, suddenly feeling bashful and looking down at your blank notepad.

"I know, but I wanted to," he said, leaning back and closing the menu. He didn't even know why he looked at it anymore, he knew it by heart already. "Thought maybe it'd make you stick around long enough for me to get to know you better."

You definitely felt your cheeks flare at that comment, and it must have been visible because Joel just grinned, clearly very pleased with himself.

"Where are you from?" he asked, determined to try to make some more progress with you today.

"Pennsylvania," you said, finally looking back up at him with a smile as you tapped your pen on the pad.

"Northerner," he said with feigned disgust. "And what brought you all the way to Texas?"

"The incredible job opportunity, isn't it obvious?" you said, and he laughed. A real laugh, one you hadn't heard before, and it did something to you. Uh oh.

"You're funny," Joel said, almost as if he were saying it to himself. You grinned and decided to steer the conversation in a different direction: away from you.

"What about you? Have you lived here your whole life?"

"Born and raised," Joel said with a nod. "Our pop used to be the town sheriff, before he passed 'bout ten years back or so."

"So, you followed in your father's footsteps?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Suppose I did," he told you, leaning forward. "But can I tell you a secret?"

You hummed and leaned forward as well, trying to bite back your smirk.

"Kinda wishin' now I was the one who bought this place instead of my brother," he said quietly and so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Still leaning in, you dropped your voice to match his and said "then who would stop those teenagers from drawing phallic images on street signs?"

He laughed again, the same deep, throaty laugh as before, and you felt your stomach clench at the sound.

"You heard that, huh?" he asked, smiling and leaning back. You shrugged.

"Lee isn't as quiet as he thinks," you told him. You wanted to say you had to learn early on to eavesdrop, that listening and anticipating danger became second nature to you, but you caught yourself.

"Howdy, brother," you heard Tommy's voice boom from somewhere behind you. You took the opportunity to sneak away and check on your other customers while they talked, but you made sure to set Joel up with coffee before heading towards the other end of the counter, his eyes trailing after you and staring a moment too long on your bare legs.

"You givin' her the business?" Tommy asked, nodding in your direction, and Joel nearly choked on his coffee. Tommy raised his eyebrows.

"She's, uh... she's a nice girl," Joel finally managed to get out after wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"He's got the hots for her," Betty whispered to Tommy as she ambled by. Joel cleared his throat loudly and gave her a stern look, but she just laughed and kept walking.

"Oh, Joel, I'm beggin' you, don't screw this up for me. She's a real good waitress, I don't wanna lose her - "

"Would you keep it down?" Joel whispered, his eyes darting around to make sure you weren't within earshot. "I ain't gonna screw anythin' up for anyone, don't worry. She's just... nice."

"'Nice'," Tommy repeated, clearly not buying it. He was about to say more, but Joel straightened up in his seat and averted his gaze, trying to wordlessly warn him you were heading over.

"Sorry to interrupt. Are you ready, Joel?" you asked him, your pen and paper in hand. He looked up at you and it was hard to fight the goofy look on his face now that you didn't regard him with such disdain.

"Yeah, sure. Let's put this guy to work, huh?" Joel said, pointing to Tommy, and you giggled. Behind you, Tommy rolled his eyes. Nice.

Joel told himself he was only allowed to think about you on his walk back to the station after lunch. You had told Betty you weren't interested in dating anybody at the moment, but he could wait. He wondered if he could change your mind, if he could make you come around to the idea of being with him, or at least give him a chance. You definitely seemed much warmer towards him today. He must have been wrong yesterday, you really must be sensitive to smells if all it took was for him to stop using that obnoxious cologne Sarah got him that he felt too guilty to throw away.

"Hey boss, how was lunch?" asked Bobby, the town's deputy and Joel's right hand man.

"Good. Anythin' goin' on here?" Joel asked, shrugging off his blazer and hanging it on the coat rack outside his office.

"Not much. I was 'bout to let Ollie outta the drunk tank. His wife was callin', askin' after him," Bobby said before rising to his feet with a groan. Although the man was ten years younger than Joel, his joints seemed to be ten years older.

Joel glanced at the time on his watch with a nod.

"Yeah, go ahead. Third time this month, though. Next time it happens, I'm keepin' him longer."

"Alrighty," Bobby said over his shoulder as he pulled the keys from his pocket and headed back towards lockup.

Joel sighed and began flipping through the papers littering his desk before giving up and leaning back in his chair to stare out the front window, watching people as they walked past. Before he could stop himself, his mind had already wandered back to thoughts of you, and it took him five whole minutes and Ollie's hungover ramblings to snap him out of it.

Maybe Sarah would want to get pizza for dinner.

It was nearly seven at night as you made your way back home from work, your feet aching and your head throbbing. At the very least, it was a cool, summer night. The breeze was enjoyable and the sun was still peeking out just enough to keep your skin pleasantly warm. All you could think about was getting home and running a bath to soak your sore muscles. It had been a long time since you held a job, let alone a job that kept you as active as this one.

Patrick didn't like the idea of you working. When he first suggested you quit your job and stay at home, you thought it was sweet. You took it to mean he wanted to provide for you so you could relax and be a homemaker, maybe even a mom one day. But after a few months, you quickly realized he just didn't want you around other people, or more specifically, other men. Without even knowing it, you trapped yourself at home without a lifeline, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Even though you were sore now, you felt good. You were taking care of yourself. Providing for yourself. And you never felt more proud.

You were juggling your keys, trying to find the right one that opened the door to the sidewalk, when you heard a familiar voice exit the pizza place.

"Well, look who it is," you heard Joel say, and you let the keys dangle at your side as you turned around with a smile.

"Evening, Joel," you replied, your eyes quickly drifting down his body. It was the first time you had seen him in casual clothes. Every other time you ran into him, he was in his work uniform, which usually consisted of some type of suit. But tonight, he was wearing dark blue jeans and a beige button up shirt with short sleeves. As he strolled over to you, balancing a pizza box in his hand, your eyes were immediately drawn to the way the muscles in his arms strained against the fabric of the shirt, making your mouth go dry.

"Tommy finally let you leave, huh?" he joked, and you had to remind yourself to laugh, your mind still too fixated on the way he looked in that shirt.

"Dad?" you heard a girl's voice call behind him, and you both turned your attention towards the voice. You remembered your brief interaction at the pharmacy and realized that she must be Sarah. Her eyes flickered from you to Joel, then back to you, clearly waiting for Joel to introduce you, but he seemed frozen in place. So, you stretched out your arm and introduced yourself with a smile, which she reciprocated.

"You look familiar," she said, tilting her head to the side the same way her dad did.

"I think I saw you at the pharmacy a couple days ago," you reminded her, and she snapped her fingers.

"That's what it is," she said, giving you another smile. "Are you working for Uncle Tommy?" she asked, looking at Joel again, who was still standing there, unmoving, watching the two of you interact. She frowned slightly at him, picking up on his strange reaction as well, before giving you her attention again.

"Yeah, at the diner. He hired me earlier this week, brand new," you told her, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. Joel's silence was deafening at this point and starting to make you uncomfortable, so you held up your keys and pointed to the door.

"I won't keep you guys. It was great to meet you, Sarah," you said with a wave, but before you could turn towards the door, she stopped you.

"Why don't you join us?" she asked, shooting Joel a mischievous look as if she finally realized the reason for his behavior.

"Oh, no, that's so nice of you, but I'm just gonna jump in the bath and go to bed, it's been a long day," you replied. Joel's body stiffened next to you when you announced your plans.

Finally, he managed to clear his throat and speak.

"We'd love to have you join us, we were just gonna grab a picnic table out back," he said, and you swore his cheeks looked a little pinker than usual.

You were struggling to find another polite way to turn down their offer when he added "c'mon, why don't you lemme serve you for a change?"

Sarah smiled as she watched the two of you. She couldn't wait to tease her dad about it in the car later.

"Alright," you said slowly, lowering your keys once again. Joel's face broke out in a huge grin before leading you and Sarah down the short alley to the small courtyard behind the building, where there were a few picnic tables and string lights draped overhead.

"Are you sure I'm not intruding?" you asked again, and they both vehemently shook their heads.

"No way," Sarah said, licking the sauce off her fingers after she picked up her piece from the box. "It's nice to have another girl around for a change."

"Sarah," Joel said warningly under his breath.

"I just mean it's nice to hear about something else other than work and football," she said to him with a grin, and he rolled his eyes, choosing to sit on your side of the table instead of hers.

"So, you live above the pizza place? That seems pretty cool. Pizza whenever you want," she said, covering her mouth as she spoke. You swallowed your food before responding.

"Yeah, it is pretty convenient. And they actually have good pizza," you said. "I think I'm finally getting used to the smell."

Joel's knee accidentally knock against yours under the table and you had to fight the urge to jump away, the contact startling you.

Sarah asked the same questions everyone in this small town inevitably asked you when you first met: where are you from and why are you here? The first question was easy, the second one always gave you pause. It wasn't until Sarah asked that Joel suddenly realized you never really answered him when he asked the same question earlier that day, so he stopped chewing to pay attention.

"Just looking for a change," you said with a shrug, taking another bite of pizza. Sarah considered your answer for a moment before following up.

"Have you ever been here before?"

"Nope."

"So you just got in your car and ... drove?"

"Kind of," you said with a nervous laugh. Joel frowned slightly.

"That's so cool," Sarah said, a smile stretching across her face. "Dad, doesn't that sound so cool?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, finally joining the conversation. "Do you got family down south or anythin'?"

"Uh, no," you said, shaking your head. "Just always heard it was nice down here so I thought I would see for myself."

"You think you're here for good, then?" he asked, his voice a little more hopeful than he wanted to come across.

"That's the plan," you said to him with a smile.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Sarah asked out of the blue, and your eyes darted back to her in surprise.

"No," you replied slowly, heat creeping up your neck and guilt dancing in the back of your head while Joel hid his grin behind his pizza. "Do you?" you deflected, raising your eyebrows at her with a smirk, and she giggled, shaking her head.

"You better not," Joel said, and the two of you laughed.

Over the rest of the hour, you listened to Joel and Sarah crack jokes and argue over what movie they would end up watching later that night and you felt the smile slowly begin to slip from your face as you came to the sobering realization that the type of dynamic they had, one that was so obviously built on love and trust, was something you never truly experienced before. It wasn't just something you saw in the movies or read in books. People in the real world actually got to experience it, and you couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Why not you? What did you ever do to receive the type of life you got?

After parting ways and thanking them over and over for dinner, you finally headed upstairs and collapsed on your small sofa. You untucked your work shirt and unzipped your skirt, but that was as far as you got, exhaustion winning the fight.

You closed your eyes and wished you had the energy to get up and run a bath, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it yet. Instead, you let your mind wander, imagining a life where you could call out to someone who cared for you in the other room and ask them to run the water. Maybe they would surprise you and light a few candles and mix in some soothing bubble bath. You knew that would never happen. You could never let yourself be honest enough with anybody to allow them into your life, but it didn't stop you from wishing for it, anyway. And right before you drifted off to sleep, you imagined that certain somebody had dark brown eyes and soft curls on the top of his head that you were itching to run your fingers through.

As hard as you tried to keep to yourself, the town was very small, and eventually you found it was nearly impossible to keep from making connections with people. Whether it was through work at the diner or striking up a conversation with someone at the store, you were quickly becoming interwoven in the lives of the people who graciously accepted you as one of their own.

You were particularly becoming fast friends with the girl who worked the register at the pizzeria below your apartment. Her name was Hailey and she was a couple years younger than you, but you had a lot in common, one of which was a shared taste in the same movies and books, so you were excited when she invited you to join a book club she and a couple other women in town started. As much as you enjoyed talking about books, you found you also very much enjoyed listening to all the town gossip that inevitably came out after everyone had their first glass of wine.

"So, Nikki, did I hear Sam asked you out on a date?" an older woman named Martha asked. Nikki blushed when the group turned to her, some women poking her in the side and others murmuring excitedly under their breath.

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal," Nikki said, flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder. She looked to be a little older than you were but it was hard to guess her age.

"Not back in town for two weeks and she's already got a date," Hailey said, rolling her eyes next to you playfully. "Some girls got all the luck."

"Oh, stop it," she chided with a smirk, then paused as if she were rethinking her next statement before blurting out "kind of wish someone else woulda asked me out instead."

That got the whole group's attention, even your own, and you barely had any idea who most of these people were. But you supposed any amount of gossip paired with alcohol is good gossip.

"Oh, please, you don't gotta say it, we all know who you've been chasin' after all these years," another woman chimed in with a giggle. Fortunately, you weren't the only person in the dark.

"Who?" Hailey asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Joel, obviously," the other woman replied, and while the rest of the group groaned, everyone tossing in their two cents and offering up their favorite things about him, you remained frozen in your chair, blood running cold.

"Lord, he came into school last week to pick up Sarah, and the way his ass looked in those jeans..."

"Did I ever tell you about the time I nearly slipped on the ice and he caught me? Had to go to confession the next day..."

"... and I swear, I've considered committing a crime just so he would throw those handcuffs on me..."

"I don't know how that man has been single for so long..."

Part of you wanted to laugh at some of the things the women were saying about Joel, but the other part of you felt hot and angry. You wanted to scream shut up, don't think about him like that, don't even look at him. And through your alcoholic haze, you realized you were jealous. Jealous of all of these women, young and old, barking out comments about the town sheriff you had no business feeling jealous over.

The next day when he came into the diner for lunch, your head was still swirling with all of the comments the women in town made the day before. Distracted, you dropped your pen and pad on the ground as you made your way over to greet him, cursing under your breath.

Joel grinned when you finally approached, looking every bit as frazzled as you felt.

"Tough day?"

"Huh? Oh," you said nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear and shaking your head. "N-no, not really. Well, maybe - shit," you said when you knocked over a box of straws with your fidgeting.

Joel laughed and leaned back in his chair.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Nothing," you said, shaking your head again, trying to focus. "What can I get for you?"

"Nuh uh, darlin', not so fast," he said with a tsk, and you sighed. "What's goin' on? You can tell me, y'know. I am a man of the law."

He meant it to be playful, but with your history, it had the opposite effect. You winced and swallowed the lump in your throat, and trying not to make matters worse, you caved.

"I went to a book club last night," you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Book club, huh? Sounds like fun," he said, watching you carefully. "Maybe had a little too much fun?"

You finally dragged your gaze up to meet his and saw he was grinning at you, and you managed to force out a small laugh.

"Yeah, you could say that," you said, hoping that would be enough, but he wouldn't let it go.

"Can you get me a coffee? Then when I get back from the restroom, I wanna hear all 'bout your little book club," he said with a wink, then stood from his chair and turned around, heading towards the bathrooms while your gaze landed on his ass. It didn't look too bad in dress pants, either.

You tried to steady your breathing while you flipped over a clean mug and filled it with coffee, your mind racing and wondering what lies you could come up with to prevent telling him the reason you were so distracted.

Lost in thought with your head down, you didn't even notice when another customer took a seat at the counter until the man cleared his throat. You glanced up and apologized before bending down to grab another mug and set it down in front of the stranger.

You were pouring his coffee and telling him about the specials, your eyes glued to the counter, when he slid the barrel of a pistol across the table and into your line of sight. You froze, your hands gripping the coffee pot fiercely as you broke out into a cold sweat. You flicked your eyes back up to him. He didn't appear to be much older than you. He had his unkept hair hidden underneath his black hoodie, and you noticed his eyes looked bloodshot, his skin clammy. You knew that look. You've seen that same look one too many times.

"What do you want?" you whispered, your voice shaking.

"Open the register, gimme all the cash in this bag," he said quietly, tossing a tote bag across the counter at you. You nodded, grabbing the bag while your fingers fumbled with the buttons, desperately trying to remember how to open the drawer without a sale. You could sense he was growing frustrated with how long it was taking, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed quietly. "I-I'm new, I can't remember-"

"Hurry the fuck up," he growled, and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision, the tears falling down your cheeks.

"Drop the fuckin' gun, Marcus," you heard Joel's voice call out, and a wave of relief coursed through your body. But Marcus got startled, and instead of doing as he was told, reached across the counter and grabbed you by the throat, pulling you against his chest to partially shield his body, the gun pressed against your temple as your fingers clawed at his arms.

You couldn't move. You couldn't breathe. Tears just streamed down your face as you locked eyes with Joel. They no longer carried that playful glint, his lips no longer turned up into a grin. His brow was furrowed deep and his gun drawn, cradled expertly in his large palms as his eyes shifted back to Marcus.

"I'm not lookin' to hurt anyone, sheriff. Just lemme walk outta here," Marcus rumbled behind you, his sour breath invading your nostrils and making your stomach roll.

"Now, you know I can't do that," Joel said, taking a small step forward. "But put down the gun, let her go, and we'll talk."

The grip around your throat tightened and you let out a small, pained squeak. Joel's jaw clenched when he heard the noise, his patience running thin. You hadn't noticed at the time, but the entire diner had gone quiet, some patrons slinking down in their seats, others craning their necks to get a better look.

"Goddamnit, Marcus, don't test me today," Joel growled, his eyes ablaze. "I don't wanna call your mama and tell her I had to spray her only son's brains all over the floor, but I fuckin' will." The tone in Joel's voice sent a shiver down your spine as you stilled, waiting for the stand off to be over.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the grip on your throat loosened and you no longer felt the cold metal pressed against your head. Joel locked eyes with you again as you coughed and shakily fell down to the floor behind the counter, curling yourself into a ball while you heard Joel reading Marcus his rights, the jingle of his handcuffs rang like bells in your ears.

Once Marcus was restrained, you heard Tommy bolt out of the kitchen and rush over to you. He knelt down on the ground, asking if you were okay, if you needed a doctor, concern lacing his voice but when he reached out to touch you, you flung yourself backwards violently, knocking the back of your head against the counter.

"Shit," you muttered, rubbing your head as fresh tears fell down your cheeks.

"Hey, easy now," Tommy said soothingly, glancing over the counter as Joel spoke on the phone with Bobby, ordering him to bring a car to take Marcus back to the station and book him.

"I'm fine," you whimpered, still rubbing your head as you shakily forced yourself to your feet. You watched as Joel marched Marcus to the front of the diner, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping his shoulder as he directed him through the door. A few patrons clapped weakly as the two disappeared outside, and the diner filled with excited chatter once again.

"You alright, sugar?" Betty asked, suddenly appearing beside you, face etched with worry. You flinched and brought a shaky hand to your sore neck.

"Yeah, I just need to use the restroom," you said, and before anyone could say anything further, you tore off your apron and made a beeline for the women's room.

You locked the door behind you and slid down to the grimy floor, burying your face in your hands as you sobbed, the adrenaline wreaking havoc on your nerves.

It was too much. It was all too much. The look in Marcus's eye was one you saw too many times. A junkie in desperate need for a fix. A drunk who would say or do anything for another drink. The fingers around your neck were no longer there, but you still felt them squeezing every last bit of oxygen from your lungs, every tear from your eye until you could hardly breathe.

The door handle jiggled and you jumped, wiping furiously at your face before shouting out a shaky occupied!

"Hey, it's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side of the door. No longer did he have that hardened edge to his tone. The warmth and softness in his drawl had returned.

"I just need a minute," you said quietly after a long silence, and you heard him shift his weight.

"I know, but I - can you let me in?" he asked, and you could hear the concern in his voice. You slid your eyes shut as fresh tears drenched your face once again. You ached for comfort. You wanted it so badly you would do just about anything for it. But every other time, you've been let down. Over and over and over again.

"I just need a minute," you repeated, just a whisper, not even sure he could hear.

"Then I'll be right here til you're ready, alright?" his voice came back, even softer this time. You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. You heard him sit down against the door with a tired sigh, and you let your head tilt so it rested against the door. There was a small bit of comfort to be had when you knew only an inch separated you from him.

"You were real brave," he said after a few minutes of silence. You scoffed and wiped your nose.

"Is that why I'm crying on the floor of a bathroom?"

"Please don't cry," he said, his voice strained. But you didn't say anything in return.

"He wasn't gonna do nothin'. He's got troubles, is all. Bad habits get the best of him, but he's harmless," he said, trying to make you feel better.

"I don't know, these bruises on my neck say differently," you replied, and you heard his breath hitch. Then you heard his shoes scuff on the tile floor.

"Lemme see," he said, his voice firmer now. He was standing, his voice above you, waiting to be let in. You hesitated, the tone of his voice putting you on edge, but you knew you couldn't hide in there forever. With a trembling hand, you reached up and unlocked the door, then scurried backwards so you were pressed up against the opposite wall as he swung the door open and stepped inside. His gaze fell on you and his eyes went soft at seeing your wrecked state before clicking the door shut behind him.

He rushed forward and you flinched. A bad habit of your own. He paused and slowed his movements, crouching down in front of you instead. He lifted a hand to pinch your chin but you turned your face away.

"Will you show me?" he asked gently. You gazed up at him with red rimmed eyes, your knees pulled tight against your chest. Finally, you lifted your chin. Again, he reached a hand out, but you stopped him.

"Please don't touch," you whispered. He looked at you and nodded slowly, dropping his hand again, examining your bruises with only his eyes.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," he said after a few minutes, but you shook your head.

"I'll be fine, it's just sore," you said, and his gaze flicked up from your throat to your eyes. His lips parted the longer he stared at you, and you felt the tremor return to your hands. You couldn't look away, his gaze too magnetic.

"Don't like seein' you cry," he murmured, still gazing deep into your eyes, trying so desperately to read you.

"I cry all the time," you said without even thinking. He blinked and frowned. He was about to say something else when a gentle knock on the door interrupted him.

"You okay in there?" Maria called out. You sighed and stretched out your legs, standing up and waving off Joel's helping hand.

"We don't gotta do it today, but I'll need you to come by and give your statement sometime soon," he said, glancing down at you with a sympathetic look.

"Okay," you replied, your voice cracking a bit. You looked at one another, both of you wanting to say more but neither of you could. So you reached out to open the door, forcing a smile for Maria.

"Sorry," you told her meekly, and she laughed.

"You're sorry? You just had a gun pointed at your head and you're sorry?"

You laughed weakly, then stopped short in pain, your fingers brushing against your throat.

"I just wanted to bring you your purse so you could sneak out the back," she said, lifting your purse up and handing it over to you.

"But my shift-"

"Oh my god, take the day off," Maria said, shaking her head and grinning. "Think you earned it."

"Okay," you agreed, then turned to walk through the kitchen where you could leave out the back so no customers would gawk at you.

"Lemme walk you home," Joel's voice said, startling you. You had just assumed he went back out front.

"Don't you have to, you know... work?" you asked, floundering for the right word.

"He ain't goin' anywhere," Joel said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he walked by your side down the sidewalk.

The two of you walked quietly for a few minutes.

"I've never seen you like that before," you said, breaking the silence. He turned his head towards you, raising his eyebrows.

"Like what?"

"Like, all... cop-like," you said, chuckling at your terrible choice in words.

Joel grinned and glanced down at his feet.

"Yeah, well, job's not all inappropriate graffiti and speed traps."

You hummed in agreement as you kept walking.

"Do you have to unholster your service weapon often?"

"'Service weapon'?" he repeated, surprised at the term you chose. Although it wasn't wrong, it typically was not something most people said. You just looked at him, not acknowledging it, so he let it go.

"Uh, no, not really," he said, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Oh," was all you said, taking a deep breath and continued to stare straight ahead. He watched you from the corner of his eye for a moment.

"When I came outta the bathroom and saw - " he stopped short, then rubbed his lower lip with the pad of his thumb as he collected his thoughts. "You were scared. And I... reacted."

You glanced his way again, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. What was he trying to say?

"Thank you," you said softly, but he was quick to shake his head.

"Not lookin' for you to thank me," he said, finally allowing his gaze to drift back to you, giving you a small smile.

When you finally reached your apartment, you took out your keys and turned to him, ready to thank him again, even though he told you not to, but he spoke first.

"Here, why don't you take this," he said, holding out a small white card between his index and middle finger. You gingerly took it and flipped it over, reading the text on the other side.

"It's my card. Call me when you wanna stop by the station," he reminded you, and you nodded.

"My cell's on there, too. If you ever, y'know," he said, half a smirk playing on his lips as he nervously shifted his weight. "You ever wanna talk 'bout anythin', really. 'Bout what happened today, or... book club," he said, and you laughed. He grinned, relieved to finally see you smile again.

"Okay," you said with a nod, and turned to put the key in the lock.

He watched as you made your way all the way up the steps, and didn't leave until he saw the second door at the top of the stairs close firmly behind you.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77 @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @fandomscollide @survivingandenduring

[a66-1]

starving.

Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.

Part 1 | ???

TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen. (these tw are for the whole thing, im pretty sure this is gonna be a series)

a/n: hey. if you need help, dm me. ill talk to you if you need it :). (also i made my banners. if you want one dm me! i make them for free, just with credit :)) NOT PROOF READ

i hope your doing okay honey.

Stepping out of the shower, the towel around you just big enough to touch ends is slipped around yourself. Showering is getting harder. You can barely stand glancing at the mirror now.

You dry yourself off, and hand the towel back up. You can do it, just walk past the mirror to grab your clothes.

You take the steps past the mirror, and turn your back to the mirror to change. Slipping your bra on, and it squishes the skin on your back and you grimace.

Once your dressed, you turn back around. The nagging voices are just waiting to pounce. I mean, what? You used to be so skinny.

You used to be pretty.

You decided to let your hair air dry, and you walk into your bedroom. You had work today, but you really wish you didn't. It was a bad week, you'd skipped 3 meals in the last few days and you know what your therapist would say.

'The progress you've made, hun. You can't go back now.'

The bad days are getting too close to each other now. You used to have at least a week between them, but now it's barely 48 hours. Maybe being off medicine isn't working good anymore.

Maybe you're no good.

You throw in a big hoodie, one that covers you, and some sweat pants, glancing at the big mirror in your room.

You can't stop analyzing yourself.

There's not one good thing on you is it?

Fuck.

The rest of the day was spent at your stupid 9-5, with your stupid boss, in your stupid, lonely life. Christ, being off anti-depressants is really hitting you hard. Everyone at your job is stupid and today every customer who wants to blow you ear off about how you kids these days, by the end of the day, your so tense that your shoulders are aching.

You got about 30 minutes left at this off-brand kroger store, when a big, big ass man walks in, shoving a mask with a skull print on it on. You curse to yourself, you really don't want to have to call the police for a robbery, you just want to go home.

To be honest, if he had a gun, you'd be half tempted to let him shoot you-

"Ma'am?" A heavy British accent came from your right. You turn your head, and scan his few items. You don't bother with the how are you's and you sigh.

"It'll be 16.84." You drag your eyes to his, and he reaches to his pocket, pulling out..

A wallet. What else were you thinking?

He hands you a twenty, and you hand him his respective change. He bags his own items, because honestly, you seem like the only worker in the store. Your face is written with exhaustion, whether it be from this job or something else, and the guy notices.

"Have uh... A good day." He nods to you, and walks off.

You purse your lips, and sigh, closing your cashier, because fuck finishing today. You're too close to a breakdown, and you're not trying to let anyone see.

You drive home, your hands tight around the wheel. You know it's a bad idea to be driving this emotional, to the point you wonder what would happen if you swerve your car into a tree.

You won't do it though.

You need to get back out there. It's why you stopped taking your meds.

You promise yourself that tomorrow you'll go out, and at least get a one night stand, you want need, anything.

Once home and in bed, you scroll and scroll and scroll. Doom scrolling is too common on these longer nights. You have a pillow tucked into your arm, and your hand squeezes it every time that pang in your lower chest rings out. Loneliness, you think.

You always scroll through your old friends instagrams or snapchats, seeing their nice bodies and nice boyfriends. You've been so nice and kind and karma should be on your side, but it always failed.

Especially after your last boyfriend.

Your friends say to wait.

To wait.

To wait.

But waiting is getting harder. Days are getting longer, and your head seems to spin more when left to its own devices. Why do you have to wait?

Your looks.

Your personality.

Who'd wanna be seen with you?

You flip your phone over, and shove your face in the pillow, your breathing staggered.

You fell asleep late, that night. The tears brought you to exhaustion.

woah why did this take 2 tries to write.

be waiting for pt.2

TRUST FINALS ARE SOOM COMING TO AN END and summer i will be STEWING TRUST!!!

Taglist!

@i-am-hungry-24-7

thank you for all the support. drunk simon blew up and im crying bc i came back after a 2 year hiatus and i wasn't getting the same feedback as usual so to finally seeing people enjoy my work again makes me feel great. <3

sorry simon wasn't in this part much. you gotta know the reader first tho, right?

bye babes..

-a661

[blackcatwriter]

Linger (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

a/n: This is my first actual one shot so I'm super excited to get this out there in our tumblr community! Shout out to my beta reader and editor who prefers to stay anonymous, this post wouldn't exist if it weren't for you.

warnings: angst, slight use of curse words (if you count them), maybe just a tad bit of grammar mistakes, takes place during chap 4 but im taking creative liberties lol, no use of Y/N, use of nicknames

wc: 2.3k (lots of yapping on my end)

summary: After the events of Blackwater, Arthur abandons you. Almost a year passes and you spot him amongst the crowd at the mayor's garden party in St. Denis.

Thanks for reading!

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Almost a year ago, Arthur Morgan had left you behind in the wake of a heist gone wrong in Blackwater. He had promised to meet with you after the robbery, whispering sweet nothings of the life he wished to share with you within hotel room walls.  However, nothing had gone according to plan when Arthur left Blackwater on the run with the Van Der Linde gang to escape law enforcement. Broken hearted, you were left behind along with your hopes of a new life as collateral damage.  

Now, months later you had started a new life in St. Denis. Your father, who was in poor health and had claimed you were in need of a providing husband, had offered your hand in marriage to that of a wealthy businessman who had been visiting Blackwater from St. Denis.  

Too engulfed in your anguish of being abandoned by the seemingly love of your life, you didn’t fight the arranged marriage and left your home in Blackwater for a new life in the progressive bustling city of Saint Denis.  

You had buried Arthur in the back of your mind and instead devoted your time to new hobbies and skills, spending most of your days sitting in the comfort of your fiancé's two-story manor. Most chores were handled by the maids and servants, leaving you plenty of time to do nothing - which is why you so heavily valued the parties your wealthy neighbors held.  

Tonight, you were wandering around the mayor’s annual garden party while your fiancé stayed behind talking business with his fellow co-workers. It was mostly shallow gossiping between the ladies and meaningless conversations with any other guests. Tonight, you were wearing your newly tailored gown, a deep blue silk dress patterned with black lace trims that perfectly hugged your body to extenuate all the right things. Your hair was tucked into a loosely curled bun with stray strands that came undone from your waltzing around. 

You were on your second glass of champagne when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar face standing on the second-floor balcony accompanied by two other men: Arthur Morgan. 

He stood to the side of someone who you presumed to be a fellow member of the Van Der Linde gang he used to run with. Frozen with shock, your glass slipped from your hand and hit the ground with a resounding shatter. Startling the people around you, they moved away as you sheepishly mumbled a “sorry” to the poor servant that would be stuck cleaning your mess. When you looked back up to the balcony, Arthur was no longer there. The man who had been by his side stared down at you as if you had wronged him in another life.  

You fled the scene, preferring to retreat somewhere quieter in the manor to recover from your embarrassment. With your back to the door, you moved to sit by the windowsill of the room you were in. Quiet footsteps sounded against the door as you sighed. “I’m powdering my nose—" Your words failed you as you took in the sight before you. 

The outlaw who broke your heart stood by the door dressed in a suit you were sure he’d never wear again. Closing the door behind him, his eyes never once left yours. “Darlin’,” he grunted, taking in the breathtaking sight that was you. He had traveled across state lines, ran himself out of every saloon in every town he came upon, but he was sure he had never met another view that was as beautiful as you. 

“I...I’m not your darling.” You gripped onto the windowsill behind you with white knuckles. Arthur brushed the stray strands that had rebelled against the pomade Hosea made him apply earlier and looked to your feet—either too guilty or too nervous to meet your eyes any longer. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure what to call ya’.” Arthur’s face reddened. He fidgeted with his hands and took a small step toward you. “I was just wonderin’ if you were alright. ‘Heard there was a little accident downstairs, and I was wonderin’ if it was you,” he continued. 

It felt as if the walls were closing in on you as he continued talking. When you first came to St. Denis, Arthur had come across your mind more often than you were willing to admit. You’d imagined he would come back to you and beg for you to take him back. You thought you had built a wall tall enough around your heart to not be affected by the sight of him again, but here he was stumbling over his own words, and you felt the same pang in your heart all over again. 

“Arthur, what’re you doing here?” You spoke softly after building the courage to ask. You wish you had the anger in you to slap him, tell him off, anything else than to just stand there bewildered by the sight of him.  “I wish I could say it��s for you, but I’m not,” Arthur sighed. He may have done all kinds of wrong in his life, but he wasn’t a liar—at least not to those closest to him.  

“I’m here with Dutch and a few other of the boys from our gang. We’re scoutin’ out an opportunity for a potential robbery.” He spoke with a tone of shame in his voice. The exact reason he left you in the first place was what lead him back to you. 

“Oh, Arthur. When will enough be enough?” You groaned, pinching your eyebrows together. “You're chasing after a dream that won’t happen! Can’t you see that?” Fueled by the frustration you felt simmering in your heart and the tears welling up in your eyes, you continued, “The old world is gone, Arthur. You’re beating a dead horse.”  

Arthur shook his head in defiance. “Now I know that, but—”  

“But what? The world is changing. If you can’t change with it, then you’re a dead man walking.” You interrupted him and rushed out the room, leaving behind a devastated Arthur. 

He tried following after you but stopped when he saw you talking to a man who he presumed to be your fiancé by the way you held onto his arm. The man nodded to you before you kissed his cheek and left to the front door. Arthur discretely tailed you until he watched you enter a carriage.  

He shouldn’t follow you. Dutch would disapprove of it; he’d tell Arthur to forget about you. You’re happier now, certainly happier than you would be on the run with him. He should go back to the party and collect information to help the gang, but in that moment, he decided you were more important. You had always been the most important person in his eyes and he was a damn fool to have not risked his neck to come back for you in Blackwater.  

Arthur ran out the front gates and whistled for his horse, Boadicea. He jumped on his horse and trailed your carriage from afar. He would’ve certainly been stopped by one of the many outstanding officers of St. Denis on account of suspicious behavior, but most of they were occupied by the party he just left. 

He stopped at the end of the street where your carriage came to a stop and observed you as you walked inside your home. You had clearly been upset in your carriage and Arthur carried a heavy guilt knowing he had been the bastard that left you feeling that way. Hitching his horse, he snuck down the sidewalk and into your backyard.  

You had changed out of your dress and into a plain nightgown. Dismissing your maids, you were left completely alone in your bedroom. Any other woman would be grateful for all that your fiancé provided, yet you couldn’t help but feel as if you were confined to a gilded cage. You sat at your vanity and dried your tears.  

Arthur Morgan had been your greatest weakness since the moment you met him in a saloon in Blackwater. He had been a drunken fool who managed to chase off every woman that night, except you. Where others found offense in his words you found humor. You took care of him that night and was shocked by him showing his appreciation to you the following morning.  

THUD 

THUD 

Shaken from your memories of the past, you yelped at the noise of pebbles hitting the windows of your bedroom. 

THUD 

Scanning your room, you looked around for anything you might use to defend yourself from this mysterious intruder and grabbed a vase. Lugging it out to your balcony, you looked over the railing and saw it was Arthur who was trying to get your attention. Sighing, you couldn’t help but prefer it was someone else trying to murder you.  

“You plan on attacking me with that?” Arthur joked to defuse the tension. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, but messy as if he had gone horseback riding. Groaning, you placed the vase down.  

“Did you follow me to my home, Arthur Morgan?” You whisper-shouted at him. If any of your servants saw a strange man trying to talk to you from your balcony, he’d be taken away. 

“I wasn’t done with what I had to say to ya’.” He stood firm with his chest out as he looked up to you. “Can I come up...please?” Arthur was scared you’d say no because he knew he’d have no choice but to respect your wishes. Any sane woman should tell him “no” but you weren’t just any woman. 

“You got an awful lot of nerve, Arthur,” you angrily spat. He took this as a sign you’d never let him anywhere near you again, until you continued, “If you can climb up the balcony without breaking your neck, we can talk.” You walked back into your room leaving Arthur grinning like a fool on the ground.  

He carefully climbed the side of your home, using the vines that grew on your walls as a rope to pull himself up. Hoisting himself over the railing, he removed his coattail and bowtie. “You always make your guests enter the hard way?” He shook the tiredness off his bones and followed after you. 

“Just the ones that aren’t welcome.” You retorted, sitting in a chair by your tea set. The evening bordered into nightfall as the air in the city grew colder. “There ain’t nothing left to say, Arthur. You’ve chosen how you want to live what’s left of your life and so I have.” Your face turned stoic as you poured yourself a cup of tea. 

“I haven’t forgotten what I promised you...and it ain’t gonna mean much to ya’ cause you’re a city girl now with everything you ever wanted, but...” Arthur trailed off as he tried finding the right words to tell you what was on his mind. 

You decided against butting in, even though you very much had things you wanted to tell him, like how he was so very wrong. St. Denis had nothing that you wanted. It was suffocating to be amongst such a high-class society. You missed the days where Arthur and you would run away for the night, choosing to retreat in nature as you confessed your vulnerabilities to him and he the same. Or when words weren’t enough to show your affections so you’d rent out a room at some hotel to show him how much you needed him in other ways. 

“I think we’re close to getting out of here. I know I said that back in Blackwater, but I really mean it this time. It’s selfish of me to want to take you from your new life here, but I’ve never been known for being a good man.” He kneeled down in front of where you sat and brought your knuckles to his lips. “What d’ya think of Tahiti?” He grinned. 

“I’d be a fool to believe your sweet words, Arthur.” You whispered, looking down at him with sadness. “You can be a good man, Arthur. Deep down inside I do think you have goodness, but you’re always fighting it. You’re always fighting it and you don’t let it win.” You placed a hand on his cheek and caressed his face. 

“Darlin’...” He buried his face in your lap as you raked your fingers through his hair. “You’re not gonna say yes, are you?” He turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze. 

Your silence answered his question. He stood up and grabbed his discarded coat.  In truth, you wanted so badly to agree. You wanted to leave with him, but you didn’t trust him enough not to leave you all over again. This time you’d have something to lose. Here you have a fiancé with a legal and stable job. He provided for you. With Arthur, you’d likely spend the rest of your life sleeping on dirt and running from whatever authorities were chasing you. 

Arthur walked to the edge of your balcony with a stormy look in his eyes. “If you change your mind, we’re staying at an abandoned home in Lagras. It’s right outside the city, I’ll be waiting at the bridge at noon just in case.” Too scared to watch him disappear all over again, you kept your back to him as he climbed down your balcony and faded into the distance. 

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[spdrvyn]

full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

[lakesbian]

attention everyone we have reached my personal favorite Line in worm

I stepped toward Sundancer and offered a hand to help her up.  She flinched away. Oh.  My hands were bloody.  I dropped the offered hand to my side. “Let’s go,” I suggested.

there are a lot of good Lines in worm, and while i will acknowledge that many of them are sort of objectively more powerful culminating moments than this one, this one is still My Personal Favorite. Oh. My hands were bloody.

it's been obvious through the early arcs that taylor has a lot of repressed anger: she beats the shit out of rachel, even after being bitten. she outright admits to the other undersiders that she hasn't taken subtle revenge on the trio at school because she's afraid she would take it too far/it would obviously be her. she is, initially, unnerved by violence: she's a bit scared by the gun present in the loft, it creeps her out that brian knows every way to break a person's body, she feels guilt about the idea of any civilians being hurt during the bank robbery. but she still beat up rachel, and she still shoves bugs up the wards' noses during the robbery, and she still gleefully rides rachel's dog and laughs and hollers from the joy and the adrenaline rush of victory afterwards.

the expression of this repressed anger thru violence escalates further when her concussion leads her to slapping emma in the mall. in the principal's office, when it's clear that nothing she or her dad says will garner help with the bullying, she shouts and slaps papers off the table and asks what would happen if she brought a knife to school. after she and her dad leave the meeting, she calls lisa:

“Hey.  How did it go?” I couldn’t find the words for a reply. “That bad?” “Yeah.” “What do you need?” “I want to hit someone.”

lisa invites her to a raid on the ABB so she can do that, and it's soo. Sooo Very. to watch how she cuts loose on it. she's so angry rachel notices it in how she's standing, and she's still confused about how rachel noticed. she's a confident leader when the fight goes crisis mode, she responds to rachel bucking against her orders by consistently shouting at rachel to "NOT fuck with me right now," she acts nigh-suicidally aggressive during her fight with lung, and she snarls "don't fucking underestimate me" when she takes him out using a caterpillar dipped in newter's blood.

all of this happens in relatively subtle increments. she doesn't notice how she progressively becomes comfortable expressing herself and taking charge instead of withdrawing or acting insecurely during the course of the mission. she doesn't notice that she's not horrified by dealing with newter's wound or seeing the sniper's broken leg. back in unmasked society, she was forced to consider how many of her aggressive actions were the result of the concussion loosening her impulse control--here, she repeatedly yells at bitch without a second thought. it's a place where her violence and anger isn't only acceptable but necessary. the circumstances normalize her outbursts and comfort with violence to her, leaving her blind to how alienated and dissociated and repressed and traumatized and furious and just Fucked Up she has to be to face down lung and then dig his eyes out.

when she says that she "doesn't believe in eye for an eye," in arc 4 alec asks her why the fuck she's a supervillain. his implicit assertion is clear: being a villain is, for him, about taking your revenge for being hurt out on whoever you can manage or justify, even if they're not the person who originally hurt you. and taylor thinks she's not doing that. but hey: she goes beyond just "hitting someone" and into literally taking lung's eyes as a culmination of the cathartic violence she's been engaging in as recompense for how she was mistreated earlier.

and the person who serves as a more "normal" reference point for how far taylor just escalated is sundancer: horrified by the idea of having to use her sun to hurt people, shocked by how casually violent taylor has been, flinching away from taylor when she turns to sundancer after committing that violence & tries to offer sundancer help.

because, oh. her hands are bloody. she hadn't even noticed how bloody they were getting, but they are.

deeply evocative one-line reminder of how taylor has changed in these first five arcs, without even noticing. and the best part is that, while the imagery of "oh. my hands were bloody" does convey that change in an incredibly brief and powerful way, the fact that taylor is saying it still means even she hasn't really realized. she thinks it's mainly just about the superficial, literal blood on her hands, and not the metaphorical blood on her hands that sundancer is disturbed by. it's good.