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#explain Computer crime
kajoodles · 1 year
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blues clues but with computers. trust me on this
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viswatechynology · 2 years
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Computer crime
Computer crime is an act that describes a large category of offenses, which is also known as hi-tech crime, e-crime, cybercrime, or electronic crime. It is performed by a computer user who has great knowledge about hacking. The hacker tries to gain unauthorized access to any particular account, personal information or steals a company’s or individual’s private information. In some cases, hackers can corrupt the computer or data files that can be very harmful to you.
On the basis of the person, situation, and individual frame of reference, the term computer crime has different meanings. For example, there are different communities like network administrators, private security, law enforcement, or prosecutors, but the investigation of computer crime does not need these communities. However, conventional or physical borders do not restrict computer crime as it is by its very nature.
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The first definitional categories for computer crime are presented by Donn Parke, who is generally cited as the author. A higher-level definition to the term computer abuse was described by him, computer crime can be any event involving an planned act where a unauthorize person or offender wants to gain related to computers, but a victim suffered or could have suffered a loss.
Expanding on Parker’s definitions Robert Taylor and company describe four major categories of computer crime:
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The computer as a target: Computers can be the target of an illegal activity, which means the attacker has to main objective to deny the owners or legal users of the system to their data or computer. Unleashing a virus through email is one of the most common crimes at the time of targeting computers. An example of this category (computer as a target) is a Denial-of-Service attack or a virus. A virus is referred to destroy your system’s data or even a computer system, which is a computer program
The computer as an instrument of the crime: In this category, a computer is used to accomplish complex financial schemes to defraud or use to gain some information or data, which data is further used for any illegal activity. For case, a computer system can be used by a hacker to steal personal information, which can be used for the criminal objective.
The computer as incidental to a crime: The computer may be incidental to a crime that means it can only facilitate the crime but may not the primary instrument of it. For example, the trading of child pornography and money laundering.
Crimes associated with the prevalence of computers: This category comprises of the actions such as software piracy, intellectual property theft, and other crimes against the computer industry.
Examples of computer crimes
In modern times, there are various kinds of computer crime available, which are discussed below:
Child pornography: Child pornography is an example of computer crimes, which is a form of child sexual exploitation.
Cracking: Another example of computer crime is cracking, in which the cracker decodes or breaks the codes that are designed to protect data. A cracker is an individual who uses a script or program to decipher codes or breakdown security systems for illegal activities. The program or script, which is used to break the security, is known as crack.
Copyright violation: If anyone steals another person’s copyrighted data, it is also a type of computer crime.
Cyber terrorism: In this category, the attacks come, like blackmailing, hacking, threats towards a person or business to gain unauthorized access to perform illegal activities.
Cybersquatting: Cybersquatting is a term, which is also referred to as domain squatting and typo squatting that is used to set up a domain of another person or company and hold it for resale at a premium price.
Cyberbully or Cyberstalking: Cyberstalking is a kind of attack in which anyone harasses or stalks other persons online by posting inappropriate or unwanted things about them.
Creating Malware: Malware is malicious software that is installed on your computer without your consent as it uses deceptive and unethical tactics. It is designed to watch browsing habits, delete software, or even open someone’s computer to attack. For case, sometimes you mistakenly run software on your computer when you are visiting a website and get an unrequested download.
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Denial of Service attack: A DoS attack, which stands for denial of service attack, is a kind of computer crime in which an attacker sends an abnormally high number of requests to the victim that is led to the network slow down or fail. These requests cannot be served as normal requests.
Doxing: It is another type of attack when someone shares another person’s personal information with anyone without their consent. The personal information may be in the form of someone’s full name, address, history, password, and other identifying information.
Espionage: Espionage is the act of spying on a person or business to obtain secret or confidential information. A person who performs these kinds of activities is known as a spy or espionage agent. Espionage agents can work in company or independent operations to uncover agencies or other secret information.
Fraud: Fraud is the use of computers, internet services, or devices to manipulating data or defraud people or organizations; for example, to participate in credit card fraud or to transfer money to an account, changing banking records. Examples of illegal computer activities include: social engineering, DDoS, viruses, and phishing attacks are used to gain unauthorized access to another fund.
Harvesting: A harvester is a software, also known as a web harvester, that is designed to gather account or account-related information of others, or it is also used to parse large amounts of data. For instance, large numbers of web pages may be processed by a web harvester to take out names, phone numbers, email addresses, account names from the website.
Human trafficking: It is one of the serious crimes, which is an act of participating in buying or selling other humans. Basically, it graves a violation of human rights. There are thousands of men, women, and children who become a victim of traffickers. Approximately all countries in the world become a victim of attackers.
Identity theft: Identity theft is an act to be a person you are not that one. In this category, attackers try to gain information illegally about someone else. Attackers or thieves can try to information such as phone number, credit card numbers, full name, maiden name, social security number, passwords, etc.
Illegal sales: It is an act of purchasing or selling illicit goods online, such as psychotropic substances, drugs, guns, and more.
Intellectual property theft: It is a category of property where a human creates something by using their own mind. In this case, if anyone steals practical or conceptual information that is created by other persons or organizations, it comes under intellectual property theft, which is known as a crime. Trade secrets, copyrights, trademarks, and patents are well-known types of intellectual property.
Phishing or vishing: It is a term that is used to deceive individuals or groups to obtain secret information about that person. For that, they create web pages designed to gather personal information like a credit card, online bank, password, or other private information. They also do so with the help of sending emails.
Salami slicing: Generally, it can be defined as stealing small amounts of money from each transaction that builds into a large sum of illegally gained money.
Scam: A scam is a term that is used to trick people into believing something, which is not actually true. For example, people start a fraud scheme or business through which they gain money from an unsuspecting person. Online scams have increased because the world is more connected to the network. And, it depends on you to keep careful yourself from these kinds of online scams
Slander: A slander is an act of posting libel against another organization or person.
Software piracy: Generally, it describes illegally copying, distributing, or using software without ownership or legal rights. Today, most of the software may have installed on one computer to use as it is purchased as a single-user license. If you share that software with anyone or copy it on multiple computer devices without purchasing multiple licenses, it is illegal and comes under software piracy.
Spamming: Spam is an e-mail distributed process that is used to promote a specific product or a scam to obtain other people’s money by sending unsolicited e-mail to thousands and sometimes millions of people without their consent. It describes junk e-mail on the Internet that is also known as UCE (unsolicited commercial e-mail), mass e-mail marketing, and bulk e-mail.
Spoofing: Generally, the term spoof describes hacking or deception that means to deceive a system by imitating another person, computer, hardware device. You do that bypassing security measures. IP spoofing is one of the well-known spoofing’s.
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Typosquatting: Cybersquatting is a term used to describe a domain that is a misspelling of another domain. Generally, it is also known as domain squatting and typo squatting that means a company or individual knowingly buys a domain and holds it resale at a premium price.
Unauthorized access: When someone tries to access a system, server, program, and service by using an illegal method or someone else’s account information. Basically, unauthorized access means accessing a system on which you have no permission to access. For the case, you have a Gmail account, and someone kept guessing a password or username for your account and accessed this account, which is considered unauthorized access.
Wiretapping: Wiretapping is the surreptitious electronic monitoring device that is used to connect a device to a phone line to listen to conversations.
Protect Yourself against Computer Crimes
Due to a computer or cybercrime, losing account information, computer, or other personal information can be very harmful; because this information can be used by an unauthorized person for any illegal activity. Especially, there are more chances to become victims of these crimes when you are relay more and more on these networks to conduct business. However, there are different ways that can help you out to protect you from these crimes.
The online use of computers is very much involved in fraud or computer crimes. You must be careful at the time of sharing your important personal information over the internet. This information can be in terms of your social security numbers, account id, password, credit card number, etc.
Also, use a difficult password to take basic precautions for keeping your data private and change the password frequently that would be made hacking difficult. Make sure you are not doing financial transactions over unprotected networks or on public computers. A good anti-virus program also helps to prevent these crimes; so, you should install anti-virus on your system and update it regularly. Furthermore, there are various websites that can have viruses, spyware, or other malware; therefore, be careful when you are downloading software from these kinds of websites.
There are some important key points that can help you protect against computer crimes:
Use strong passwords: Always use a strong, unique password and change your password frequently. Also, the repeated password is not beneficial; so, do not keep the same passwords on different sites. And you should always try to password with the combination of at least 10 -14 letters that have symbols, special characters, and numbers, which means create a complex password. A complex password cannot be hacked easily like “123456” or “another simple password.”
Keep your software updated: Especially, it is most important with your internet security software; because attackers always try to gain access to your system by using flaws or known exploits. Therefore, you should keep your software up to date, which helps to patch those exploits and flaws, which led to a decrease in the chances of becoming a victim of cybercrime.
Be careful about using public Wi-Fi: It is very easy for hackers to connect with public Wi-Fi. That means they can see your history what you’re doing on the internet, such as watching a movie, including they can see your account information, password, or other personal sensitive information you are logging on the device. To protect yourself against crime, do not enter your secret information while using public Wi-Fi, and when you are on public Wi-Fi, use apps that need a password to access.
Manage your social media settings: Make sure your private and personal information is locked. As you mostly share your pictures or other data on social media sites publicly, which can be hacked by social engineering cybercriminals. So, it would be better for you to less share your personal information on social media.
Some other points keep in your mind
Be aware because identity theft can happen anywhere
Keep an eye on the children
Take measures to help protect yourself against identity theft
Strengthen your home network
Use a full-service internet security suite
You should go offline when you do not need an internet connection
Consider sharing less online
Block spyware attacks
Have A Firewall
Any computer network should be protected by a firewall. A firewall is a virtual barrier that disallows information from making its way into the network without authorization. The firewall will block out any data that has not been intentionally permitted by the network administrator.
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Anti-Virus Software
The spread of computer viruses can be responsible for major losses of data and sometimes money or machinery. There are a number of anti-virus software options that will help prevent these harmful programs from getting onto a network or a single computer.
Intrusion Detection Systems
An intrusion detection system (IDS) is a good secondary line of defense in addition to a firewall. An IDS can help indicate when an internal attack is taking place or when a hacker has bypassed a firewall and obtained access to the system, according to Interpol’s website.
This system identifies statistical deviations and points out unusual behavior within the network. When activity that is inconsistent with the typical tasks performed on the network occur, the IDS flags the activity and its source, alerting the appropriate people that an intrusion may be happening. The system can also be programmed to detect when certain areas of the network are tampered with and can act as a sort of burglar alarm against intrusions.
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coconutdays · 6 months
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seat taker
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s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?
w.c. 10.6k
w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)
a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out
"go sit next to him then."
you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.
"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."
she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.
"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."
you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."
"you're insane."
"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."
"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."
you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.
"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."
"huh. what was that last part?"
your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...
with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.
its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.
poker face, poker face, poker face.
it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.
there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.
"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.
"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"
you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.
"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.
a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."
"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.
you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.
"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.
even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."
"you can ask him for that too~"
"shut up, you menace."
"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."
"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"
"bye!"
and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.
suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.
and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.
you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.
he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.
god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–
"you have pretty handwriting."
"I–what?"
you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.
and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.
"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."
he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."
you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.
"be my guest." you say without hesitance
he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.
he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.
"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips
your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"
he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.
"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"
the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.
"y-yeah."
"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."
a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.
"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"
he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.
"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"
you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.
"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response
at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.
"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.
"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."
"what?"
you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."
you hear a puff of a laugh from geto
"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."
you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"
every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.
geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."
you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.
amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"
you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."
geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"
you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."
"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"
you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.
geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"
you nod, curious at what he was going to do.
he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.
when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.
"that's where the frat house is."
you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"
geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."
you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"
"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.
you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.
"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."
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just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.
although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.
you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.
your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.
"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.
the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.
"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.
she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"
she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.
you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.
it's geto.
his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.
the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.
you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.
you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.
you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.
you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.
"is it as cool as people say?"
you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.
it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.
you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.
"yeah!" you nod
geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you
"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.
"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him
"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you
"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.
"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"
you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.
"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.
geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'
you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.
it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.
he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.
"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.
geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.
you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.
"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.
"you want something?" geto asks you back
"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him
geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"
you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.
he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."
"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink
you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.
"you didn't want a drink?"
geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."
"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.
"what kinda car do you have?"
"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble
"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.
"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.
"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."
"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.
"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out
he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"
"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."
geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"
although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."
"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you
"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.
"you don't know my name, rig–"
"y/n."
you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.
"what?"
"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you
"oh." you sink back into yourself
"do you know mine?"
you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."
"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"
"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"
the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.
geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.
"what's wrong?" he asks quickly
"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."
you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.
"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.
you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"
"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."
you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."
"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."
"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it
"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.
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when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.
an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.
"there you go."
he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.
"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.
when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.
"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.
"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back
"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"
you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.
geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.
you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.
after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.
"this is your place right?"
another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.
"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.
when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.
"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him
"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"
"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.
"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"
"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.
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you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.
you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.
your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.
there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.
by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.
"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."
It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.
you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.
you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.
and gojo's voice, "idiot."
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you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up
suguru
hey
y/n
hi
suguru
you wanna take satoru's seat next class?
y/n
he wants to flirt with mika again?
suguru
not rlly lol.
y/n
?????
suguru
I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)
y/n
lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of
suguru
haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat
y/n
okay?
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when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.
there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.
three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.
gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.
you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.
"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.
"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.
"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."
ah. that's why it seemed so out of character
"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."
suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."
"really? about?"
for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."
"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."
"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"
you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"
he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."
"what?"
suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."
"for who?"
"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."
he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.
you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"
"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."
"Zenin?!"
"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.
you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."
"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."
"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.
"no?"
"no."
and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.
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when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.
"hello?"
"hey hey! I have a question!"
you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.
"what's up?"
"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."
"the fembot costume?!"
you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.
"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"
"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you
"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"
"well I've never done that." you grumble
"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."
"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"
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it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.
you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.
on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.
your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.
it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.
however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–
he just made eye contact with you.
you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.
fuck you satoru gojo.
suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.
"you bought another costume?"
"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."
"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.
you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri
"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending
"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.
"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.
"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans
his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.
you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.
you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"
"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"
his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.
"are you kidding me? you're high?"
"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.
you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.
"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."
"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."
"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.
"yes."
"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."
the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."
"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer
irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.
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you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car
after their date.
which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.
the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.
you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.
it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.
"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."
it's suguru.
there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.
he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.
this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.
suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.
suguru
are you still here?
I'm sobered up now.
he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.
buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz
the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.
"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.
nervous, you mutter, "what."
suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.
"why didn't you answer me?"
"do you really not know the answer?"
"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.
"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.
you're confused, "but–"
"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.
"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.
the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.
"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."
"since when?" you peep
"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession
"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess
suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"
"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.
"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor
"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."
"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."
you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."
suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."
"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"
"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.
"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.
suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"
"no, I like it here too."
theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.
"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.
he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.
"suguru."
he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.
he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.
he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.
a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.
"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses
suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."
your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–
"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.
you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."
he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"
"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.
suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.
he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"
you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.
"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."
suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.
"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"
you give him the same answer again.
"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."
the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.
you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.
"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck
"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."
"yeah?"
"mhm"
"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"
"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.
"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles
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you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.
he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.
"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way
it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."
"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"
"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.
"move your panties to the side."
when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.
"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"
"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.
he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.
"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly
your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.
"are you close angel?"
concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.
"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.
you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."
he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"
the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."
it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."
like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"
you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.
he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"
you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance
suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.
" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion
"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper
"no." you rake your hands down his arms
suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."
the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.
"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.
every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.
"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."
it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.
"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."
"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"
suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"
a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.
"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.
he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.
at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.
suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."
the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."
"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders
"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"
"yeah."
"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.
suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.
"we can do that later right?"
"right."
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cupids-chamber · 1 year
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@. People I would cheat on my boyfriend with.. . ♡ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Genshin version ## Low quality and low effort slides because finals sucks!
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. ROOK HUNT ;
Odd smile or grin, I mean Rook always has this ridiculous oui oui bitch smirk grin on his motherfucking face, but today? It was different. It was more huter-y if that’s even a word. 
The moment you turn away, Rook’s glaring at your pc as you open the slides, as if it’s his mortal enemy.
Bro looks like a fucking hitman with the looks he’s putting out. His facial expression radiates wtf energy.
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Aww so sweet, so cute mon cherie..—Now change the fucking slides.
"What's on the next slide my sweet?"
Run bitch run.
Why are you hiding your screen
what is there to hide
you have nothing to hide
what do you even need to hide.
Why hide.
Communication is key :)
. VIL SCHOENHEIT ;
Lowkey glaring at you while you explain the slides, like 'excuse you fuckass am I not good enough for you?'
Will start getting passive aggressive, calm? What is calm? Is there anything truly ‘calm’ in this world?... He’s patiently waiting.. For the slides to load… Standing, posing like your mom outside your door with a sandal core. 
Slowly becoming a nagging housewife as he insults your slow as fuck computer. 
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Begins fucking scrolling immediately, legit scoots you over.
Truthfully you're more surprised he didn’t question the picture you choose for the cover but his pacing is lowkey scaring you? You did this on a dare.. And you put a 50 slide gap.. And Vil was going through each slide fast… Hell you even put a compliment on each slide. 
Stroking your little beauty queens ego always worked… except now.. He’s been remarkably quiet.. And that is surprisingly more unnerving and unsettling than anything else VIl could possibly do.. 
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Well you’ve done it now.. He’s mumbling.. With gritted teeth, he’s not even glaring.. And frankly you don’t want to see his facial expression. 
And then he starts laughing.. But not laughing in like “LMFAOO LOL SO HILARIOUS”  but more of a lowkey “I’m going to kill you”
“Potato… care to explain a few things?” 
“I- ugh.. um.. have an appointment”
“Not anymore”
. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ;
Kitty’s got claws, bro finna commit a crime.
Just looks at you and smiles. ‘I control my emotions, my emotions don’t control me’ core 
Was therapy working? Probably not his lazy ass avoids them like the common flu.
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You saw his expression soften for a moment and you lean in and give him a hug. Effectively distracting him.. and then you scroll like God’s given you 20 fucking seconds to live and breath.
“WHAT THE FUCK HERBIVORE??” and then the screen fades to Malleus.. 
And then it automatically scrolls to Rook...
"..."
Oh you fucked up.
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© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
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lancermylove · 22 days
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Things You Do That He Doesn't Understand (HC)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Pairing: Leaders with fem!Reader
Warning: None
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Wake up at an ungodly hour so that you can do your hair and makeup before going to work or school. You are not going to a party or a modeling show, so just use those hours to rest. Honestly, it's okay if your hair isn't perfect and your face looks natural.
Collecting anything. Leona can't understand how you have so much patience managing a collection of items. However, he finds it a little amusing when you agonize over not being able to find that miniature pizza to put in your mini kitchen collection.
Shapewear. Do you honestly like the feel of someone squeezing your organs out of your body? If so, just ask him for a hug. Leona will be more than happy to give you a bone-crushing hug.
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Complex hair routine. Malleus likes to watch you do your hair, but it makes his head spin. Why do you need 50 different products for your hair? You look fine without putting those products in your hair.
Fear of abandoned places. Why are you scared to go into the castle that looks like something will jump out at you from the corner at any moment and attack you? It's really not that scary, says a powerful dragon who is over 200 cm tall.
Need for fluff. He finds it amusing that whenever you see fluffy things, you absolutely have to touch them no matter what, even if it means crossing a pit filled with lava. Sometimes, he wants to wear a fluffy coat so that you stay glued to him and can't stop touching him his coat.
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Shave only half of your legs. Just take a few minutes to shave your entire legs.
Going to sleep with makeup on. NO, just NO! How dare you commit such an atrocious crime against your skin? He knows you might be tired, but take five minutes to clean your face or call him. He will do it for you. Vil better not find your face transferred on your pillow when he walks into your room to wake you up in the morning.
Telling your best friend/girlfriends everything. Do they honestly need to know how good he is at kissing or anything else? That's between the two of you, so why do you have to tell them? Vil finds it embarrassing that you are discussing such private affairs with your female friends.
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Large handbags. Some of the handbags you carry are half his size. Why do you need such a huge bag? Are you hiding a pet or child in there? Also, why is it so heavy? Do you have dumbbells inside?
Expandable stomach. Riddle can't understand how, in the morning, your stomach looks one way, but after dinner, you look like you expecting a child. You tried to explain to him that's how women's stomachs work, but he still can't wrap his head around it.
Long nails. How do you keep your nails so long and manage to do things, especially if your nails are the lengths of claws? Whenever you struggle to open a can tab or pick up a flat object from a table, Riddle crosses his arms and waits to lecture you.
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Worry about weight. Why worry about numbers when you could just enjoy eating? Food is too good to resist, so don't fight the urge and enjoy your life!
Impeccable memory. How do you remember what he said fifty days ago when the two of you were talking in the evening? Does your brain have a date/time stamp log with all the conversations you had? This means he can't get away with anything. T_T
Multitasking. How do you manage to do so many things at once and not mess up? Kalim can't understand why your mind is able to handle so many computations at once; he can't even handle one thing at a time. He doesn't know whether to be impressed or be scared.
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Spend hours in the bathroom. Why does it take you a few hours to come out of the bathroom? Do you just sit there and watch an entire movie? If you do, why not just do it on your bed or sofa? It's much more comfortable.
The number of shoes. Why do you have 500 million shoes? Also, can we talk about high heels? Why do you wear them? Azul can't even understand how Vil and some of the other students are able to walk around in killer high heels. Unless you use them as a self-defense weapon.
Math is scary. What? It's just a bunch of numbers that you need to add, divide, subtract, or multiply. What's so hard about it? Then, he remembers he has a special talent for doing mental math and that not everyone is able to. Azul apologizes.
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The urge to party every weekend. Why do you want to party every weekend? No, wait, why do you want to party in general? Too many people everywhere. Too many eyes and ears on you.
Details. Why do you need to ask the whys? He told you the truth, did he? Then why do you still need details? Can't you just accept the simple answer and let him move on?
Crying while watching romance movies. It's just a bunch of actors acting, so why are you crying? Seeing your tears fazes him quite a bit. So, when you start crying during an emotional scene, Idia gets startled and freezes, not knowing what to do.
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➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed
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Little ideas i don't know what to do with
-
1. Danny develops the power to turn people i to animals, which would be fine and dandy if he wasn't in the middle of Gotham with the hiccups.
People are turning into animals all around him as he hiccups and there's nothing he can do. He's confronted by a bat who wants to know whats going on and Danny, while frantically trying to explain that hes not some animal themed supervillian, hiccups again turning the vigilante into an animal.
Danny just stares at the little animal hero and sighs before grabbing a box and gathers up all the animalized people. Danny keeps getting confronted by bats and accidentally turning them into animals cause they won't let him speak
The only person this doesn't work on is Red Hood due to the pit water inside him making him resistant to Dannys powers. Unfortunately it does partially work, making Red hood half part animal of your choice (think catboy)
Red hood is now extra extra angry and Danny is noting out whenever he spots him, which doesn't help with the bats assuming he's a new rogue
--
2. Danny moves to Gotham and learns that he can hear the com lines the bats use. He keeps quiet about it both because he doesn't want the bats attention and because they're hilarious
---
3. One of the bats were down and a big bad was slowly approaching the bat. Danny, not knowing what to do, stole a tie off an unconscious dude and tied it around his head like a blindfold and used his intangibility to see. He knew backup would be here soon so he just needed to distract the big bad until they get here.
How? The eggs from his grocery bag should do nicely.
Aka Danny eggs a criminal
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4. Danny keeps kidnapping Freshly crime lorded Jason. Why? Jason is dad shaped. Red Hood shook with laughter the first time he heard this and now Danny kidnaps Red Hood whenever he needs an adult or a fake dad.
Not Jason Todd, no. Full on Red Hood. Those poor social workers looked like they were gonna have a heart attack. If Jason isn't in his gear Danny will weight patiently for him to put it on.
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5. Danny is cursed into being a crow. After several failed attempts to communicate with the bats he gets mad and just builds a nest on the bat computer. No amount of removing or destroying the nest with make him stop and he'll just build another one.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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AU of Gotham! Tim Drake! Danny where he doesn’t know the universe he was reincarnated into.
“Robin!” Batman barked. Tim sighed, loudly. Batman twitched.
“What is it, B?”
“Drills. Again.”
Tim rolled his eyes but moved to obey. Speaking to B these days was like speaking to a rather boorish caveman. Simple grunts and single word sentences. It didn't use to be like this but B was loosing his grip on his humanity and it’s Tim’s job to bring it back.
It’s hilarious because he’s the least human of them all. It was odd, juggling his duties as Danny Gotham, his responsibilities as Tim, and his workload as Bruce’s shiny new Robin. Somehow he made it work.
Yeah, sometimes B’s hands are heavy when they’re training. Sometimes he forgets Danny’s name (or at least his human name) and calls for Jason instead. Sometimes, he smells more like booze and less like Bruce.
Danny could handle it. Even if his core quivers with grief. He wished he didn’t have to, but he could and will handle whatever he needs to for his Knight to regain himself. But fuck, that doesn’t mean taking his self destructive habits lying down. He might be Tim right now, but as far as Batman knew, Tim was here on the orders of
“B.”
“Hm.”
Oh, a neutral grunt! I see we’ve upgraded to grunts instead of arm flapping! Holy detective, Batman! Aren’t I glad I learned to speak cave man? Wow! Tim mocked, in his head.
“You’re heading to bed when I’m done with this set,” Tim said.
“This case isn’t done,” Batman growled. Ancients, it was like speaking to a large chihuahua-toddler hybrid. All the barking, all the growling, and all the petulance of a child makes the entirety of how his Knight acted on a good day these days.
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Tim shot back, sore arms and legs and everything working through the set. Thank the ancients for his healing, or else Tim might actually be dying.
“You don’t give me orders, Robin.”
“No, but Gotham does.” He would know, considering Tim was Gotham.
The head full of greasy- ew, take a shower, B!- hair swiveled towards him.
“You have a direct line to Gotham?”
Tim settled into the final forms of the night. “Gotham sent me. I thought we went over this.”
A beat of silence.
Batman returned to clacking away at the computer. Tim finished his set in relative peace. He moved to the cool down stretches while Batman sulked in front of his computer like a five year old.
“I’m done.” He said, crossing his arms.
“Hm.”
“That means you’re done, too.”
“I’m not tired.”
Tim rolled his eyes so hard, he thinks he saw the light. Oh, wait, that’s just Bruce’s last brain cell dying.
“You’re heading to bed. Good luck finding actual crime tomorrow, if you stay up.”
Batman stilled, because he knows Gotham would back Tim up on the threat. Considering the time sensitivity of some of these cases, Gotham’s anger is not something he could risk.
Tim patted himself on the back for effectively playing the good cop and the bad cop on his own. Except ACAB for life because they’re vigilantes and the GCPD as a whole (with exceptions) sucks ass.
He watched as Batman- as Bruce- reluctantly powered down the Bat-Computer. As he stood up, Tim wrinkled his nose.
“Never mind. You take a shower first. I’ll text Alfred.”
“Not necessary.”
“Okay, then you can explain to Gotham why you’re traipsing through his city looking a starved rat and smelling like you took a joy ride in Killer Croc’s excrement. Oh, wait.” Tim snapped, just about done being patient today. Tim whipped out his phone, texting Alfred with one hand and pointing towards the staircase with the other.
“Shower above ground, you weird little mole rat. No cave water for you.”
Bruce makes a weird offended grunt.
“I literally don’t care if you have to walk up to your room to shower in your boxers, B. Most of Gotham’s people don’t have access to a shower, let alone a million dollar bathroom. Fucking use your actual bathroom instead of hosing off.”
And with that, Batman and Bruce Wayne moved to the tune of a pre-teen, who was also, unknowingly to him, the spirit of his City.
——
“Go home.”
Tim smiled sweetly. Bruce paled. The scary, Gotham loved child patted Bruce’s hand as he sat beside Bruce’s bed.
“Sleep, before I make you.”
Bruce slammed his eyelids shut, anything to not look at Tim’s malicious looking eyes, and allowed himself- nay, forced himself- to rest for the first time in weeks since Jason died.
As Bruce’s dumb self drifted off to dreamland, Tim muttered, “Wuss.”
He settled himself into the chair, napping lightly to make sure Bruce doesn’t sneak out to work when he’s gone.
Alfred snapped a quick picture.
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buryustogether · 11 months
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lilac - chapter 2
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miguel o’hara x f!reader
summary: a pre-work visit to the bank goes horribly wrong.
wc: 4.7k
tags/warnings: unhappy relationship, gun violence, bank robbery, blood, scars, stripping, pole dancing, sexual fantasy, semi-public sex, praise
author’s note: yeah he got me fucked up
They called him Spiderman.
He appeared seemingly from thin air overnight - specifically, the night you’d stayed late at the school to watch Gabriella O’Hara until her father could pick her up. They were hailing him a vigilante, a hero, an aggressor. No one could quite seem to agree on just what he was other than supernatural. Like the multiple self-titled supervillains who had taken over your city without someone to stop them, he possessed abilities no regular human was capable of. Shooting webs from his wrists, climbing walls, moving and propelling himself at unimaginable speeds. He was something unimaginable.
People theorized, over the week since his city-wide premier on shaky cellphone footage and breaking news coverings that interrupted regular shows, that he had escaped from a cage in Alchemax. How else could they explain his powers? They couldn’t. Others said he was an alien. Some said he was a fake, said that the clips that captured him beating the absolute shit out of car thieves and back alley thugs and would-be kidnappers, were all photoshopped with a fancy computer and an advanced program.
Either way, no matter where he’d come from or what he was, whether he was a do-gooder or another villain searching for glory, no one could deny that what he did was incredible.
It was too bad some people were out to get him despite what he was doing for your city.
“He’s a menace!” shouted the anchor of the news show playing in the bank’s lobby. J. Jonah Jameson’s voice brought a migraine to the front of your head, one that wouldn’t go away with just simple ibuprofen. You tried to block him out as you waited in line for a teller, attempting to focus instead on the story your boyfriend was barking in your ear on your phone. Your attempt was unsuccessful. “He’s just another villain trying to have his five minutes of glory in the sun. He’ll burn out just like all the others; Doc Ock, Kraven, the Vulture… Please, people! Wake up and take a deep breath of reality! He’s not helping the citizens of New York - he’s getting in the way of our police!” He fixed the camera with a hard, stony stare that made you look away when you saw one of his eyes twitch. What in fuck did that dude put in his cereal every morning? “Spiderman is just another villain. Give him another week, and see where he ends up.”
You felt your lips tug down as you turned away from the television and moved up in line. What a sad, pathetic city you lived in, where someone attempted to use whatever powers they had to do good and got blasted for it instead of praise. God knew New York needed all the help it could get. With the highest crime rate in the country, who would turn their nose up at what little help was offered to them?
Dickwipes, that was who.
“Hello?” shouted the voice on the other end of the phone you held up to your face. You jumped slightly and pulled it from your ear, earning yourself a few strange looks from the other people in line. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Sorry, babe,” you exhaled into the speaker. Blocking out the television and the rest of the distractions in the bank, you upped the volume on your phone. “Just kind of busy at the moment. I’m in line at the bank, and then I’ve got to catch a taxi in this fucking traffic and haul ass to work before class starts, and -”
From his end, Ferris released one of those breathy sighs that he did when he wanted you to stop speaking so that he could talk what was on his mind. You knew the sound well - well enough to shut your mouth and swallow thick. “Could’ve just said it was a bad time,” he grunted, then made the noises of switching his phone to his other ear. You recognized the sounds of his deft fingers fiddling with his guitar strings. God, it seemed like he never put that fucking thing down. A part of you suspected that if your apartment was on fire, he would run to save his instrument before you. “Listen, I’ve got practice here in a while. I’ll let you get back to whatever’s so important.”
Ignoring the pang that resounded like a thunderclap through your ribcage, you nodded your head despite knowing he couldn’t see you. “Uhm, okay.” You hesitated, then added, “Oh, before you go to practice -” you heard him sniff - “could you put away the dishes in the sink? I started the cycle this morning before I left, so it should be -”
“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Bye.”
“Oh, okay, bye. Lo-” Before you could finish, you heard the familiar click of the other line being hung up. You stood still for a moment, feeling a little numb at your fingers, before slowly pulling your phone from your face and pressing that bright red button to hang up your end. Trying to keep your expression neutral, you stepped forward in line as it moved.
Maybe once upon a time, you and Ferris had been happy together. Maybe… satisfied was the right word. Settled. There to fill the void when you needed someone. Saying ‘I love you’ was never a column to lean upon in your relationship; it was only mumbled under breaths during sex and rare moments when both of you were in the mood to not be so completely alone. But that wasn’t often. He was too busy with his band, spending whatever money from his gigs that he received at whatever bars he trolled when he claimed he was cleaning up after shows. You were too busy teaching your kids during the day and teasing and smiling desperate souls at night, putting lousy paychecks and crumpled tips toward keeping your rent paid and food in the pantry.
The girls at The Menagerie asked you why you didn’t leave him, kick him out of your apartment and change the locks. You couldn’t ever come up with a good reason. Maybe it was because if you did, six months of your life would be down the drain. Maybe it was because if you did, you’d be more alone than you ever had in your life.
You didn’t have anyone besides Ferris. Your parents, shit - they were a lost cause. The girls at the club all had separate lives. And your kids at the school - you had to let them go every afternoon, walk out that door without a glance back.
If you let Ferris go, you would have no one.
Stuffing your phone back into your purse, you held your head high, refusing to let anyone else here see just how deep the cracks in your foundations were. At last, you were called up to the next available teller.
Your heels clicked and clacked along the polished tile floor, the bright yellow dress that you’d bought for yourself for a school spirit day swishing about your ankles. You felt like a sore thumb in this dull, brown-and-white building that was just aching to be updated. Old, vintage chandeliers hung from the high-arched ceilings, illuminating the golden bars the tellers sat behind. Benches with creaky leather occupied the center of the lobby, accented by matching chairs and little desks that bankers in starched collars met with clients at. It was all black and white, neutrals and dark tones.
Greeting the teller behind the gate with as bright a smile as you could muster, you opened your mouth to say hello. Yet just when you began to push the syllables past your lips, your world shattered like porcelain meeting concrete.
Sunlight like a torch in a dark tunnel flooded the bank as a small line of figures crowded into the bank. At first, no one paid them any mind. Then shots like the deafening cracks of fireworks right beside your ear sounded from sleek black rifles into the ceiling, and screams filled the echoey chambers of the building. You immediately dropped and covered your head, breath leaving your lungs like the air had been slammed from your chest by a sledgehammer. People cowered behind the cushions and desks, scrambling for cover as another round went through the roof.
“Everyone put your hands on your heads and take a seat on the ground,” came a booming voice from the figure at the head of the group. There were four of them, a small team who wore identical kabuki masks and black tactical gear fit to be seen on military personnel. “This is a robbery. Not a killing spree, not a kidnapping - a robbery. We ain’t looking to hurt anyone today, unless someone tries to be a hero. No sudden moves. You all follow directions, and you’ll be home in time for lunch.”
Unable to pull in a new breath, you slid to the ground and placed your hands on top of your head. You watched, eyes wide and fingers trembling slightly as the men began to make their rounds to the tellers, plopping wide, fat bags on the counters and demanding money from beneath the desks be placed inside. One took up a stance just beside you, forcefully shoving his bag to the man behind the bars and commanding him to pull out the stacked bills. The teller at once complied, dropping thousands of dollars as sweat began to bead at his temples.
Holy goddamn fucking shit. Holy fuck. You knew this city was dangerous - hell, you’d sit back night after night at home and watch on the news as cars were jacked and people were taken hostage. You’d just never thought it would happen to you; of all the millions of people in this city, you’d never thought it would be you. And yet here you were, hunkered down against a countertop as your bank was robbed with you at the throbbing heart of it all.
And you were all alone.
The man in the mask beside you took a glance down when your trembling brushed up against his leg, his head tilting slightly in a demented way that made his mask look haunted. You were suddenly reminded of your own mask that you wore for work, of the ones the other girls wore, and you were struck with the realization that, perhaps, you and he were not so different. You both wore masks to hide your faces, holding out your hands and moving to a particular kind of dance in order to snatch money right out of pockets without batting a damn eye.
Then again, when you danced, you didn’t hold an automatic rifle strapped to your shoulder.
“Give it to me,” said the man above you. You were barely able to understand his words through his mask.
Your heart skipped yet another few beats as you tried to register what he was saying. Give it to him? Give him what? “What?” you managed to say over the lead in your throat.
He nodded his head to the space beside you, and you whipped around. Your purse lay on its side next to your thigh. He wanted your purse; your wallet. Your money. Everything you had - which still wasn’t much. But you couldn’t give it up.
You looked back up at him while he switched his gaze between you and the teller, who was still busy filling the bag with cash. “No,” you said, and when he snapped his gaze to yours, you added, “please. I don’t have much, I don’t have anything compared to this place.”
The man in the mask turned away from the teller to grip his rifle tighter, tilting it slightly so that it was level with your leg curled up against your chest. “I’m not going to ask again, lady.”
Just as your hand began to scrabble for the purse laying beside you, knocking around a few papers and loose change that had fallen out, the man was struck in the face with a mass of white substance that clung to his mask. He cried out and dropped his rifle, hands flying up in an attempt to pull the stuff from his eye holes. You watched, frozen in place, as another masked man across the lobby was stuck to a countertop by his hand with another mass that appeared from seemingly nowhere.
Before anyone else could react, a dark, sinewy figure dropped from the arched ceilings overhead and kneeled on the tile just a few feet from where you huddled. When they stood up straight, your breath hitched in your throat. It was a man, donned head to toe in a blue and red suit that popped with color here in this bleak interior - like your yellow dress. His face was covered with a mask, the only indication of an expression beneath that surface retractable eye lenses that narrowed as he took a glance around the ceiling.
Spiderman exhaled a nearly inaudible huff. “Some things never change.”
From that moment, the bank was painted into a picture of chaos. The masked vigilante expelled a pair of webs from his wrist to slingshot himself across the lobby, landing a jaw-cracking blow to one of the robbers who tried to raise his rifle. The fourth, the last one still able to move, cracked off a number of shots that sent people scrambling and wailing out. The blue and red suit shot off tiny sparks as lead collided with its bulletproof material, nothing but pebbles against a mountain.
Spiderman huffed again, a breathy little chuckle this time. “Cute.”
In the next second, that fourth gunman was sent flying into a marble wall, sliding down onto his face to reveal the large crack his spine had put in its surface. The last two men were taken down quicker than you could have blinked. The second, his hand still stuck to the countertop, didn’t stand much of a chance when webs ripped his own rifle from his grasp and struck him across the forehead with a sickening crack. And the man who had demanded your purse - he’d only just gotten the white mass of sticky stuff off his mask before the vigilante slung across the room, grabbed him by his vest, and raised a gloved hand capped with three-inch long claws. “It’s impolite to threaten pretty ladies,” he growled in a voice that, for some reason, despite the situation, made your stomach churn a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. He swung the robber toward you where you sat on the ground, that clawed hand gripping his jaw to force him to keep your eyes. “Apologize - like a gentleman. And maybe I’ll think about letting you keep your trigger finger in one piece.”
By now, with the gunmen either unconscious or being held against their will, almost everyone else in the bank had gotten to their feet and bolted out the front doors. In the distance, sirens wailed and tires screeched. And yet you remained where you were, staring up at Spiderman as he tightened his grip on the man’s jaw. His claws drew tiny dots of blood along his skin. “We’re waiting,” he said in a breathy murmur.
The gunman inhaled a high-pitched, shaky breath and turned his eyes to you from behind his mask. “M’sorry,” he stuttered over his own terror.
The vigilante leaned closer, his eye lenses narrowing. “Sorry for what?”
“M’sorry for threatening you,” came the pathetic cry in response that almost made you pity him. Almost. “It - it won’t happen again, I swear.”
For a short moment, the two men stared at you. One was praying that you accepted the apology, prayed you were going to call off your savior in spandex. The other was waiting for your decision, waiting to see if you accepted such a sorry excuse for a ‘sorry.’ Swallowing the large lump in your throat, you wordlessly bobbed your head in a nod.
Spiderman hummed and turned his head so that his mouth would be close to the robber’s ear. “Seems the lady’s feeling generous today. Consider yourself lucky.”
He spun the man around with those claws of his, and the robber’s gloved hand reached out in a blind panic and grabbed onto the vigilante’s suit just where his neck met his broad shoulders. He dragged the spandex down accidentally as his head was slammed against the marble countertops, giving you perhaps a one second-long glimpse of dark, tan skin and a small scar across his collarbone. Then the man’s grip relaxed as he dropped to the floor and he released the material of the suit, allowing it to snap back into place.
You jumped slightly as the would-be robber collapsed in a heap of limbs and tactical gear beside you, your dress riding up on your thighs slightly from how you sat with your knees huddled to your chest. Before you could think to do much else in this mind-boggling moment, Spiderman was standing before you and offering a hand to help you to your feet. His claws had shrunk back into his glove - or, perhaps his own nails - and his upturned palm suddenly looked oh so inviting. It floored you in the most alluring, gut-clenching way how those very hands had just brought four men within an inch of their life, and yet now they were softer than empty promises just for you.
“You alright?” he asked as you took his hand and stood. “Sorry you had to get caught up in all this.”
He talked to you in such a casual way, like the pair of you had met before, that you could do nothing but stare and clutch your hands to your stomach as he scooped up the fallen items from your purse, dropped them back in, and handed your bag to you. Numbly, you accepted it.
“You’re safe to walk outside now,” he assured, towering over you like a damn stone column. Fuck, his voice was sexy. Low and tipped with a rolling accent. You wondered, in that moment, why it sounded so familiar. “The police should be arriving any time. They’ll just ask you a few questions and send you on your way.” As if he understood that you were frozen in place, he touched your back, turned you around, and urged you toward the front doors that were now flooded with red and blue lights from the squad cars outside. “Take care of yourself, alright?”
You had just barely mumbled a barely-audible ‘okay’ before he was gently guiding you out the doors, and then suddenly you were alone, facing down three dozen cops and a truckload of SWAT soldiers.
They asked you exactly what happened in that bank. They asked what you were doing there, what time the incident occurred, who in the hell could single handedly take down four aggressors with automatic rifles and bulletproof vests? They knew the answer, and so did you. But you told them anyway.
“It was Spiderman.”
And no matter how fucking hard you tried, how much you urged yourself to forget about them and focus on the here and now, you were unable to get that masked vigilante out of your head. You thought about him on the rest of the way to the school, because god knew there were far too few teachers in this city and you couldn’t have gotten a substitute even if you tried. You thought about him while your coworkers, the other teachers, all gathered around you in the breakroom and demanded answers and stories from your little incident that morning. You thought about him while you planned out your day with numb fingers and toes, and while you stood out front and welcomed kids in, and even when Miguel O’Hara appeared to drop off Gabriella safely at your side.
It took a few words out of his mouth, past those gorgeous full lips of his, a quirk of one of those thick brows, to finally bring you out of your stupor. “I’m sorry?” you said when you realized he had asked you a question. You felt your cheeks warm and your palms become sweaty as you begged his pardon.
To your relief, Miguel only smiled slightly and placed a hand on his jutted hip like he did. God, why did he have to do that? Draw attention to the perfect ratio of his body, a beautiful slope from his wide shoulders to his trimmed waist? “Just asking if you were alright,” he repeated himself, and you could have sworn his eyes flitted over you while he spoke. “Heard you were caught up in that robbery down on Fifth.”
“Oh… right.” You cleared your throat and watched as Gabriella spotted a few friends and dashed into the school to meet them, her backpack wagging behind her. “Yeah, I’m alright. Now that it’s over, I realize it didn’t even last that long. Maybe five minutes or so before… before Spiderman showed up.”
“Yeah?” He reached up his other hand to scratch at the underside of his chin, where the delicate skin of his throat was. Your eyes followed his movements like they were a magnet and you had no choice but to watch. Even if you did have a choice, you would have watched, anyway.
You nodded your head once, clasping your clipboard with your kids’ names on it to your thighs over your dress. A breeze blew over Washington Elementary, letting the yellow fabric dance and blow up to your knees. They were scuffed from kneeling on the hard tile floor this morning. “Mmm-hmm. He’s… not like I imagined him,” you admitted, then realized just what you were doing; talking to Miguel O’Hara, the main star in every single one of your late-night fantasies, about the man who had quite literally swooped in and saved your ass. “But, anyhow… No one got hurt. That’s what matters.”
The corners of Miguel’s lips quirked upward ever so slightly, showing off a tiny flash of his white teeth. It then occurred to you that you’d never seen him smile fully - only with a closed mouth. “Well,” he said, and lifted his hand an inch or two, almost like he was going to touch your arm, then stopped himself and lowered it back down. “I’m glad you’re safe.” There came a fraction of a second of tense, charged silence between the pair of you before he added, “Don’t know what we would do if something happened to Bri’s favorite teacher.”
Bri - you’d never heard him call her that before. It was always a full ‘Gabriella.’
Behind you, in the school, the bell rang, signaling the final five minutes before class started. You glanced over your shoulder, feeling your heart sink slightly at the realization that you would have to leave the conversation. “I’d better -” You allowed your sentence to fall away as a number of squad cars came rounding the corner across from the school, sirens wailing and tires squealing on the tarmac. Other vehicles on the road pulled over to let them pass as they blew through a red light; whatever was happening, it must have been serious. But wasn’t it always.
“Heh,” you chuckled gently as you began to turn back to Miguel. “Always something happening, ri-”
He was gone. Vanished, seemingly, into nothingness. No car to watch pull out of the lot, because he walked his daughter to school, and no trace of his hulking, towering form down the sidewalk outside the wrought iron gates that surrounded the building. He’d completely and totally disappeared.
Damn, you thought as you blinked a few times, gripping your clipboard, and entered the school. What an enigma he was.
That night at work, as you spun yourself around and around on the pole center stage in various twisted shapes and contortments, you found yourself divulging in yet another one of your little fantasies. You shut your eyes as you tensed your leg and gripped the pole to send yourself around in a tight, flashing circle that made the train - that your boss had specifically instructed you to wear while you were in the spotlight - flutter and whip like golden water pulled across a current.
You pictured Miguel seated in the leather chair closest to the stage, his chin propped on his forearms where they rested across the edge of your runway. You imagined the neon lights playing tricks and dirty, filthy, irresistable illusions in the gleam of his eyes, following your movements around and around because no matter how many times you did the same cheap trick, he would still watch it as if it were his first time seeing it. You thought of kneeling down in front of him even though it was against the rules to get too friendly with customers if they weren’t going to pay to see you up close, and of gently taking the point of his chin in between your fingers so that he was tilting his head up to look at you.
Fuck, you thought of him taking you on that fucking stage after the place was closed, hovering over you with your legs locked around his hips and your hands gripping the wrists pinned beside your head so tight your knuckles paled. You swore that, even in your little scenario, you could feel his breath fanning across your face as he leaned down to murmur in your ear through his huffs and lustful, breathy sighs.
“Such a good girl, takin’ it all f’me. Pretty girl, pretty baby. All mine. All mine.”
You opened your eyes and forced yourself to return to reality when you felt yourself being watched. Of course you were being watched - there were dozens upon dozens of eyes surrounding your stage, watching from behind the porcelain gaps in their animalistic masks. But there was another sensation of being stared at that didn’t quite fit in with the rest of them, one that sent a certain kind of shiver down your spine. Keeping in time with your routine and the music thrumming through the floorboards of the club, you peered deep into the wide atrium in search of whoever was fixing you with such a gaze.
You found it.
He was standing nearly in the shadows where the lights couldn’t reach him, arms crossed tight over his chest and stance firm so that everyone who looked at him knew to never even think of invading the space he’d claimed for himself. The man was tall and sinewy with muscle, but you had to squint to see his frame clearly through the dark and the dress jacket he wore. Over his face, the edges obscured by the slicked-back mess of dark hair atop his head, he wore the club’s one and only spider mask.
It was a specialty disguise, one that only the top rollers and highest bidders of the evening bribed their way to at the front room. It usually signified that whoever was behind the porcelain wanted attention, wanted drinks to come nonstop to their side tables, wanted every girl in the damn house on their lap and at their feet. And yet, this evening’s spider was nothing like that. He clung to the shadows, to the perimeter of the room, like he didn’t want anyone to know he was there. He took up no more space than necessary. He was practically a no one, despite the delicate, fractured-looking design he wore over his features.
And he was watching you dance like he was mesmerized, like if the doors were chained shut and the place was burning down around him, he’d be content to stay where he was and keep his eyes focused on your body.
When the man realized you had spotted him, that you were staring right back at him through the gaps of your monarch mask, he moved. You nearly wanted to cry out, to tell him to wait, that you weren’t done. But you couldn’t.
So instead you continued to dance, continued to watch him as he flowed through the other patrons toward the exit. Yet when he turned in just a particular way to avoid bumping into a server, you saw it; through the unbuttoned top pair of buttons of his dress shirt, you spotted it, you were able to catch a glimpse of a pale, raised scar running along his collarbone.
The very same you’d seen on Spiderman.
tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick
(strike through means your blog could not be tagged.)
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whumpshaped · 5 months
Note
this is a disgustingly fluffy prompt so beware slfkdh
caretaker always calls whumpee a word in their (caretaker‘s) native language, which whumpee doesn’t understand. but since they are very self loathing they just assume it’s something negative, since caretaker has to spend so much time and energy caring for and „tolerating“ whumpee. one day whumpee gets too curious though and decides to look up the word, only to find out it’s a pet name and caretaker has been calling them something lovingly the entire time
(bonus points if you do it in your native language i love learning new cute pet names!!)
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sorry to all hungarians i know seeing this will cause some whiplash
tw pet whump, past trauma, caretaker new master
‘Easy, szívem.’
‘Szívem, could you bring me some water?’
‘You don’t have to push yourself, szívem.’
Whumpee accepted the nickname as their own easily. Whumper had given them plenty, although never ones they couldn’t even understand; useless, stupid, mutt… who knew which one Caretaker was using on them?
They avoided asking about it for the longest time. They told themself they were prepared for the meaning, that they could handle whatever degrading thing their new master ‘friend’ threw at them, but in reality… They weren’t prepared at all. They didn’t want to know. They wanted to pretend it was something nice, a term of genuine endearment, dear, darling, honey… Something people said to each other with kindness.
But eventually, curiosity won out. Whumpee sneaked into the study one day, picking out one of the dictionaries from the shelf. They thought about using the computer, but they chickened out. It would’ve been a much more egregious crime than opening a book.
The issue was, they had no idea how to spell the word. They started at ‘S’, flipping through pages upon pages and finding nothing. See-vem. See-vem. None of the words looked right. They eventually crossed over into the next letter, ‘Sz’, unsure what sound that would even make. It was all so confusing… How did Caretaker even speak this?
“Can I help you?”
Whumpee flinched at the voice, slamming the dictionary shut immediately. “C-Caretaker– I– I wasn’t– I wasn’t doing anything! I was cleaning, and the book fell down, I was just trying to check whether it was intact–”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” they said with a smile. “I’m not mad, szívem. But if you were looking for something specific in there, maybe I could help.”
“N-no, no, it’s… it’s nothing… I…” They took a deep breath, trying to ground themself. It was now or never, really. They wouldn’t get a better chance to ask. “Well… I, I was wondering about, um… The nickname, I guess. What you always call me.”
“Ah, of course. I’m sorry, I’ve never really explained it, have I? It’s just a term of endearment.” They pulled out their phone and typed something. “I’m pretty sure the dictionary only has the root word. Here.”
Whumpee took the phone gingerly, looking at the translation program. Original word, in Hungarian: szívem. Yeah, they would’ve never gotten that right. Translation, in English…
Their eyes widened in disbelief. Next to them, Caretaker chuckled. “What did you think it meant?” they asked cheerily, seemingly unaware of all the horrible options that had been swirling around in Whumpee’s head before.
“I… I don’t even know,” they breathed.
They definitely didn’t think it meant something as innocent as ‘my heart’.
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lazycats-stuff · 9 months
Note
I'd like to request batfam x male reader, who crotchets a lot. He has some medical issues, so he doesn't go on patrol, he helps out with information gathering though.
When Damian got added to the strays, the reader tried being a good older brother, and he crochets him a little stuffed animal for him as a welcome gift. Everyone in the family has one, even Alfred. Let's say, Damian had a bad day, and coincidentally the reader just finished the crochet animal and goes to his room to give it to Damian. Damian snaps and destroys the stuffed animal in front of the reader, also saying some pretty hurtful stuff. The reader cries because it took a lot of time to male it. You can end it however you want
Take your time <3
Sure. Oh Damian is so dead. Nobody messes with (Y/N).
Summary: Damian messes with the wrong brother.
Warnings: angst, fluff, reader is a sweetheart, everyone loves the reader, unspecified medical problems...
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(Y/N) sometimes envied his brothers. If it weren't for his medical problems, he would have been out and running, fighting crimes. But he was still happy with his position as Oracle number two, helping Alfred out when it came to patrol and information gathering.
" Can I get you some more tea, master (Y/N)? " Alfred asked him, standing up.
" Please do. " (Y/N) said, giving Alfred his favorite mug.
(Y/N) turned his head back to the computer, rubbing his eyes. He yawned, putting his hand over his mouth.
" Tired? " Alfred asked as he poured some tea.
" A little bit. " (Y/N) answered.
" Guys, we need access to GCPD data base. " Bruce said through the comms.
" You have an access to it, why do we have to? " (Y/N) asked, confused. Alfred came back with tea, also confused.
" Something is jamming the access. " Bruce explained further. (Y/N) put the tea aside, trying to get into the said database.
" Hmm. Something is happening with the network. It's down... " (Y/N) said, confused.
" I would go to GCPD and check it out. " (Y/N) said, taking his tea.
" Alright, will do. "
With that, it was quiet and they knew that this was in one way or another it for the night. (Y/N) glanced at the crocheted bat he made for Bruce.
(Y/N) had a little bit of tradition for everybody. He makes little stuffed animals. Every single member has one, even Alfred. He would make it for everyone who would come into the family, just to feel welcome.
And it did work. It made all of them feel nice and welcoming. And it made them like (Y/N) and it made everyone more protective of (Y/N). Jason took the number one spot at the amount of protectiveness he had for (Y/N).
Everything changed when Bruce announced he had a biological son. With Talia al Ghul. (Y/N) didn't know what to think about it. Bruce was always saying to use protection, so how did it happen? As a playboy, you are supposed to be a careful person when it comes to sex.
" I'm sorry, how did Damian happen? You are usually the one telling us to watch ourselves, you know, use protection amongst other things. " (Y/N) asked, taking a sip of his tea.
" Talia spiked my drink. " Bruce said, making Jason snort. (Y/N) smacked him on the arm.
" I'm sorry, but how didn't you notice it? " Jason questioned, trying not to lose control again.
" Jason not now. Damian is in the cave, Alfred is going to bring him up. Please be nice. " Bruce said, sighing as he heard Alfred coming.
Everyone turned their heads to see Alfred walking in with a small boy with green eyes and who eerily looked like Bruce at that age. (Y/N) knew because he saw the pictures once. Alfred showed him the photos.
" Everyone, this is master Damian. Master Damian these are master Jason, master (Y/N), master Tim and master Dick. " Alfred introduced Damian to everyone.
Damian didn't say anything, instead he turned back to Alfred to ask him to show him his room.
" I don't know about you, but this is going to be interesting. " Jason said to (Y/N).
" I think he just needs to adjust. It's never easy to come somewhere new. " (Y/N) replied, taking another sip of his tea.
" Will he get a stuffed animal too? " Jason asked, standing up.
" Yup. It's a tradition here so... " (Y/N) said, trailing off.
" If you say so. " Jason said, watching as (Y/N) took last sips of his tea before putting the mug into the sink.
" Any chance I can ask you to help me with a case? " Jason tried as they were going to their rooms.
" Nope. I need my sleep. " (Y/N) said, opening his bedroom door.
" You are mean. " Jason said, chuckling. " Good night. "
" Good night Jay. "
It has been a couple of weeks and (Y/N) finally finished up his stuffed animal for Damian. He made a Robin stuffed animal in his colors. Well, the suits color. Green and red with a R to symbolize the Robin. He was happy with his creation and was now actively looking for Damian.
What (Y/N) didn't know however, was the fact that Damian had a very bad day. To put it bluntly, everything went to shit. Absolutely everything that Damian had planned went to shit. Absolutely everything and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it.
Coincidently, (Y/N) decided to gift the stuffed animal to Damian. He knocked on Damian's door, entering after hearing a harsh what. (Y/N) entered the room, holding his bird in his hands.
" So, we have a tradition here where I make newcomers stuffed animals. So here is yours. "
" I don't need that right now! And I don't need something from someone so worthless to the family! " He yelled grabbing the stuffed bird, ripping it apart.
(Y/N) was heartbroken. He slowly stepped out, closing the door before he started crying in the hall.
" (Y/N), what's wrong?! " Jason asked, confused. He just came from the dining room and seeing his favorite brother sad was something that should be illegal. (Y/N) shook his head, running to his room and slamming the door shut.
Jason scowled, wondering what made (Y/N) upset. Well, who made him upset... He looked at Damian's door and went there. He opened the door and his eyes feel down onto the remains of (Y/N)'s stuffed animal. He looked up at Damian before he jumped at him.
The two started fighting. Jason was blinded with anger and rage, punching wherever he could. Bruce heard the commotion and when he saw what was happening, he had to tear Jason off of Damian.
It was difficult to separate them, but once he did, he was pissed. Beyond angry.
" WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?! " Bruce yelled, mad now.
" He took (Y/N)'s animal and tore it apart! He is heartbroken! You didn't saw him when he started crying! " Jason yelled back, face bloody. The kid can definitely punch.
" Out. I will talk to Damian. " Bruce said calmly. Jason wiped his nose, going straight to the bathroom in his room to clean it up.
He can't allow his brother to see him bloody. He really can't. He washed his face and once he made sure that he has stopped the bleeding, he went to (Y/N)'s room. He opened the door and his heart broke.
(Y/N) was still crying on the bed, curled into a fetal position.
" Oh (Y/N)... Come here. " Jason said softly. (Y/N) sniffed and turned to face Jason. Jason sat down on the edge. (Y/N) moved closer and put his head in Jason's lap.
" Why did he do that? I just tried to be nice... " (Y/N) asked and Jason gently scratched (Y/N)'s scalp.
" I know that. Damian is just Damian... " Jason said, knowing that (Y/N) doesn't like when they are talking negatively about Damian. Or any of them.
Jason stayed like that for a couple of hours and (Y/N) fell asleep during that. Jason didn't mind, but he had to move. He gently put (Y/N)'s head on a pillow. He covered him and left the room.
He didn't expect to see Damian in the hall.
" What do you want? " Jason asked quietly, not to disturb (Y/N).
" I wanted to... Apologize. "
" Did Bruce make you do that? " Jason said, not believing a single word that came out of Damian's mouth.
" No. I just had a bad day and I let it out on the wrong person. " Damian said, meaning every word of it.
" Well, don't wake him up now. You know, everyone has a stuffed animal made by (Y/N). Even Alfred. " Jason said. " Bruce has one near the Batcomputer and sometimes takes it with him somewhere important. He took it to outer space once. " Jason wasn't sure why he was telling that to Damian, but it felt important that he knows. " Again, don't wake him up. " Jason said, leaving Damian.
Damian had no plans on doing it.
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 6 months
Text
You Never Know
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: none
Genre: very fluffy
Summary: Spencer wants to ask you on a date
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***
You check your watch as you walk over to your desk. You thought you were gonna be late but it looks like you made it in earlier than you expected. You've barely settled into your chair when Derek pops his head around his computer monitor.
"Did you go?" He asks. You roll your eyes and reach into your bag for the paper bag half rolled up inside. You drop the paper bag on his desk across from yours.
"Yessss! You're the best mamas." Derek says pulling open the bag.
"What's that?" Spencer asks leaning over from his desk, trying to peak into Derek's mysterious sack.
"Dude there's this bakery in y/n's neighborhood that has the best pastries of all time but you have to go first thing in the morning or like as close to it as you can because first of all once they're out of something they're just out of it for the day and secondly these things are better the closer to fresh out the oven that you can get." Derek explains.
"So you send y/n to buy your pastries before work?" Spencer frowns.
"Well-"
"He doesn't send me anywhere. Sometimes I'm just nice enough to pick things up if I have time." You say.
"Correct." Derek points at you.
"Interesting." Spencer nods.
"What's your stance on donuts Spence? Do you even eat them?" You ask.
"I love donuts actually." He tells you.
"Yeah I guess that makes sense, you have quite the sweet tooth." You hum.
"I didn't realize that was obvious."
"Well, it is to me. I can't say if anyone else here would say the same but I noticed." You say.
"Oh." You barely catch his eyebrows scrunch together before he hides behind his monitor to avoid you noticing the heat he can feel rushing to his cheeks. He's probably reading into it too much that you noticed something like that. You take a sip from your coffee and turn your attention to your own computer. It's a paperwork day today it seems, as you all spend the day at your desks. On one hand, you honestly hate having to spend all day working on reports but on the other hand, no news is good news- theoretically not having a case should mean there are no new serial killers but you all know crime doesn't sleep- so there's a quiet understanding that you're just waiting for the next storm.
Still, it's been a busy few weeks so it's nice to not be jetting off to another state where you'd be arguing with local law enforcement while trying to solve a crime before it snowballs. By the time you're leaving work, you're almost caught up on the pile you'd been too busy to get to and that's sort of nice to know as you pull out of the parking lot.
~
You normally don't stop at your local bakery two days in a row but you figure you should buy something for Spencer after the conversation you had yesterday. So, you get up early enough to run by the bakery before heading in today.
"Y/n! Good morning! Same thing as always?" The bakery owner, Salma smiles at you when you walk in.
"Actually not today Salma, I'm buying for someone else this time." You smile. You maybe should've asked what donuts Spencer likes, but you like to think you know enough about his tastes to guess.
"Someone else? Not your work friend?"
"Not the one you know. A different work friend this time." You explain.
"Do you like this work friend too?"
"Salma I don't like Derek." You scoff. "Not the way you're implying anyway. He's just a friend."
"And this new work friend?"
"I don't know Salma I'm just picking up donuts." You say with a smile that you hope doesn't give you away. The look Salma gives you is enough to let you know she sees right through you.
"Alright, what can I get you this time then dear?"
"I'll take those two. I think he'll like those." You say pointing to the donuts you want through the display case.
"This one is a new recipe you know."
"Is it? I'll take one for myself as well then, and next time I'm in I'll let you know what I think." You smile.
"You have to come in soon then, you know how I value your opinion on new releases!" She says as she bags the pastries for you. 
"Of course Salma. I'll be back within a couple of days most likely, my work friend will get quite huffy if I'm not." You say handing her a ten and taking the donuts from her.
"And you are sure you don't want to take him anything since you are here?"
"Ah he got his sweets yesterday. He can wait until my next visit. Have a good day Salma." You say leaving the bakery. When you get to work Spencer, Derek, and JJ are already at their desks. You can see Hotch in his office as well as you drop your things at your desk.
"Is that what I think it is? Two days in a row y/n you spoil me." Derek spots the distinctly colored bag from the little bakery before you've even said good morning.
"First of all, good morning. Secondly, these are not for you Morgan."
"Not for me?!" He gasps and you roll your eyes.
"Spence, I brought you breakfast." You say dropping the bag on his desk.
"Really? What'd you bring me?" Spencer blinks.
"Donuts from the bakery near my place."
"Oh, the one Morgan really likes?"
"Yeah! Since we were talking about it yesterday I thought I'd pick something up for you." You say.
"And she's left me to starve in the process." Derek proclaims dramatically.
"Oh cut the theatrics. You got donuts yesterday, you weren't even expecting them." You scoff and Spencer chuckles.
"Well thank you for the donuts y/n." Spencer smiles.
"If you like them I'll bring you some more often."
"You're supposed to bring donuts for me though." Derek huffs.
"And today I brought them for Spencer. You get donuts all the time you'll be fine." You roll your eyes.
"This is favoritism." Derek says.
"No more than me bringing you donuts literally every couple of days." You scoff.
"Are you trying to replace me?"
"Replace you!? Morgan- you do realize it's just a donut, right?"
"It's the principle of the thing!"
"Okay, what if I just- don't ask for her to bring me donuts again?" Spencer asks.
"Don't be ridiculous Spence if you want donuts all you have to do is ask." You say.
"I just feel like-"
"Oh, hush. You're so dramatic. Salma says hello though." You cut Derek off.
"Now you're being mean." He gasps.
"Who is Salma?" Spencer asks.
"She owns the bakery." Derek says.
"She knows you?" Spencer turns to Derek.
"She knows I have a work friend that I buy donuts for. So when I came in this morning and ordered something different I had to explain that they weren't for that work friend."
"Salt. In the wound." Derek says.
"Will you relax if I give you half of my donut? It's a new one so Salma wants feedback anyway."
"It's not the same."
"There is just no pleasing you Derek Morgan." You shake your head.
"It's actually very easy, bring me donuts."
"This conversation has gone on too long I'm going to the kitchen." You say standing up and leaving the bullpen. In the kitchen, you pour yourself water from the Brita pitcher.
"Does Morgan really take this donut thing that seriously?" Spencer's voice startles you as you sip your water and you barely avoid choking on it.
"Jesus you move like a cat. No, but he does take getting on my nerves that seriously." You say.
"Oh- well I just wanted to thank you again, for bringing me donuts."
"You said you like donuts."
"I do! But- since I didn't get around to asking for some, it was a pleasant surprise."
"Well that's what I was going for so mission success." You smile. Spencer returns it with a bright one of his own.
"Actually, can I ask you something?"
"Of course hon. Anything."
"Well I was-"
"Good morning Spencer! Y/n!" Penelope greets happily as she enters the kitchen.
"Hey Pen." You smile at her and turn your attention back to Spencer.
"Good morning Garcia." Spencer nods.
"Oh! Y/n! You know that- task you brought to me last week?" She asks.
"Yes?"
"I got a hit."
"Seriously?"
"Have I ever let you down?" She winks.
"Oh you are truly the best there is! I'll be by your office in a little bit okay?" You tell her.
"Alrighty!" She says going, most likely to her office.
"You were saying?" You prompt Spencer.
"Is that important? Because my thing can totally wait- actually I don't think now's a good time to ask anyway." Spencer shakes his head.
"You're sure? Because the thing with Penelope isn't even work related. It is by no means time sensitive if you need to talk about something." You tell him.
"I'm sure, this can wait, it should wait. Now is a bad time I realize." He says. Your face scrunches a bit in confusion as you regard Spencer for a moment.
"As long as you're sure." You say hesitantly.
"One hundred percent. Go." He nods.
"Alright, but whatever it is, don't put it off too long, okay?"
"Promise." Spencer gives you a small smile and you turn to go to Penelope's office, wondering what could be on his mind. It doesn't come up for the rest of the day. You do your work, he does his, and though you speak throughout the day he at no point brings up the million dollar question he wanted to ask you this morning, and honestly by the time you're going home you've kind of forgotten about it. It's not until you're back at your place that it comes to mind again and that's only when Spencer calls you pretty much as soon as you step through your front door.
"You have insane timing, you know you called me just as I stepped into my apartment?"
"It usually takes you approximately 23 minutes to get home from work so I took a guess at when you'd be off the road based on when you left. Didn't think I'd be that on the nose though." Spencer says.
"Well- I hope everything's alright, seeing as you're calling me and we just left work at the same place. To what do I owe the pleasure?" You ask.
"The question I wanted to ask you this morning. I promised you I wouldn't put it off too long. I actually figured it would be easier for me to ask you this over the phone so I called." Spencer says.
"Oh yes. What ya got for me, sweetness?"
"I know that we're- coworkers and this might make things weird or whatever but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on a date with me? You of course don't have to say yes and if you don't I promise not to make things awkward at the office - we can just pretend this never happened but I- couldn't just not at least ask."
"A date?" You blink. Spencer wants to go on a date with you.
"Yes. Only if you want to, no pressure. I really don't want you to feel pressured or anything. It doesn't have to be a thing if it doesn't-" 
"Spencer!" You cut him off.
"Yes?"
"If you're going to ask me on a date you have to give me a chance to answer beloved." You smile.
"Oh- right. Sorry."
"I would love to go on a date with you."
"Seriously?"
"Of course." You say. Spencer lets out a relieved sigh that makes you want to giggle.
"Cool." He breathes. "I have to plan. I'll call you once I've sorted everything out. Is that okay?"
"Works for me." You nod even though he can't see you.
"Okay. It'll probably take me a while though so- in case it's too late to call you again tonight, good night."
"Spencer."
"Yes?"
"Don't obsess over making it perfect. I'll enjoy whatever we do as long as we're together. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight." He says softly.
You hang up before you end up dragging out the conversation and also so you can let out a ridiculous squeal that you would never let Spencer hear. You're... giddy. Like a teenager all over again. And you have to force yourself to go about your evening routines as opposed to just waiting for Spencer to call you all night.
***
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beenbaanbuun · 18 days
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the pet w/ poly!addams!matz
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upon spending more and more time with your lovers, more things that have been kept well guarded secrets from the rest of the world seem to reveal themselves to you. the things that go bump in the night aren’t necessarily all figments of the imagination. the legends may be twisted and warped to make them seem a hell of a lot scarier than they actually are, but some things still hold true.
vampires for example. while their genes still technically exist, vampires themselves went extinct long before you were even born. seonghwa had explained it to you in depth one morning over breakfast, but none of it really sank in. you should’ve paid more attention to your biology classes in school; maybe then all the ‘immortality is a recessive gene’ nonsense that he was spouting would make sense to you. the whole ‘my great-great-grandmother was a vampire’ thing just didn’t seem to compute, but it did sort of explain why seonghwa gets a rash when he’s out in the sun for too long.
it turns out jongho isn’t really a bear skin either. he’s an onikuma that hongjoong’s family had passed down through generations. it was during that long, drawn-out chess lesson that hongjoong had explained to you that his family were once livestock farmers that the creature had stolen from time and time again. you found it cruel that jongho was slain just for the crime of being hungry, but hongjoong patiently explained that his ancestors were hungry too. slaying the beast that kept breaking onto their land and taking their sheep was the only way to keep food on the table. you’re just glad the memory of the onikuma lives on; you hope his spirit knows that he’s one of your closest friends.
but then one evening, just after the nightly waltz that you so love to sit and watch, seonghwa drops a bombshell. you’re cuddled up by hongjoong’s feet, gently undoing the laces on his dancing shoes as he and seonghwa pass soft conversation over your head. you’re listening, but not very well. it’s not like much of it is any of your concern anyway… well, except those few words that slip so freely from your mommy’s mouth.
“we should get a werewolf,” he muses to his husband before tipping the rest of his wine down his throat. it’s so nonchalant as if it’s something so perfectly normal for them. in the end, you suppose it is; seonghwa has already alluded to being descended from immortal beings (that aren’t really all that immortal, just… longer living) and the rug you’re currently sitting on is made from the skin of some mythical beast. if anything, a werewolf should just be another thing that you shrug off and accept as just being another part of your increasingly weird life.
but there’s a difference here. quite a big one. seonghwa said they should get a werewolf, and you can’t quite wrap your brain around why he means by that.
the couple seem to notice the sudden interest you have in their conversation though. perhaps it’s the way your body physically tenses up, or the way your fingers become slack on hongjoong’s shoe. either way, the two men hum out a chuckle. seonghwa’s hand finds it’s way to your head, stroking at your hair in the same way he does whenever he needs to calm you down. hongjoong just taps your knee with the toe of his shoe, reminding you of the task you appointed yourself with the moment the pair collapsed onto the couch.
“why ever should we allow some mutt into our house?” hongjoong says as your feet begin to work on his laces again. he always ties them so tightly. you know it’s just to give you something to do with your hands for a little while. “we’d have to house train the feral thing, which would be an immeasurable amount of work. it’s hardly a walk in the cemetery to train a beast to be civil, Cara Mia.”
seonghwa chuckles as he watches his husbands face twist up in disgust. he never has liked werewolves; claims they’re shifty creatures with no good intentions. seonghwa has to wonder what ‘good intentions’ he thinks vampires have, but he chooses not to argue. there’s not much point in the grand scheme of things. vampires don’t exist anymore, werewolves do.
“protection for our darling?” the tall man suggests, curling his fingers against your scalp so his blood red nails scratch delicately against your skin. you let out a satisfied sigh. your lovers smile down at you, “a friend for when we’re busy with work? there’s plenty of reasons as to why…”
hongjoong seems the mull the idea over as you slip the first shoe off. you gently place it to the side before moving the the next foot, laces done equally as tight.
“and you want to let our sweet girl near such an uncivilised creature?”
“it’s either that or a dog,” seonghwa shrugs.
“i’d rather the dog,” hongjoong cocks his eyebrow confidently, but seonghwa isn’t so easy to give up.
“and i’d rather the werewolf,” he says with a smile. he knows, after all, that he always gets what he wants. the proof of that is sitting right between their legs with a collar around its neck. “it would give her something to talk with when she gets lonely, plus the fact we won’t have to clean up after it. opposable thumbs really do work wonders.”
hongjoong sighs; they’re all good points but the thought of letting a werewolf into his home still sends a shiver down his spine. the thought of you being around one is even worse. they’re notoriously difficult to train (the fault of their human-esque desire to be independent) and hongjoong really doesn’t have that much time to waste. he lets out a groan just as you get the knot to the second shoe undone.
“you’re serious about this, aren’t you?” hongjoong asks. seonghwa replies with a nod. “what about you, little dove? would you like a friend?” you think about it for a second before slowly nodding as well. you suppose it would be nice to have someone to fill those empty hours where hongjoong and seonghwa are both tucked away in their respective work spaces. hongjoong lets out a defeated huff, “fine.”
you slip the shoe off of his foot just in time for him to grab you and tug you onto his lap. it’s ironic really—you’d get punished for having a temper tantrum, and yet when hongjoong groans and hides his face in your hair, all seonghwa can do is smile. there’s a reason you’re the one with a collar around your neck, you suppose.
“thank you, mi amor,” seonghwa leans over to press a kiss to his husbands head, “i’ll let mingi know that we’re interested; he was showing me photos of an absolutely gorgeous specimen named yeosang just the other day…”
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wileys-russo · 9 months
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blurb with Leah trying to teach reader how to play golf? Maybe it’s their second or third date but they aren’t official yet? Which is really just an excuse for her to get all handsy with you and try to flex and show off with her golf skills to impress you. All fluffy and soft for our LW6 :)
top golfer II l.williamson
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"leah...why are we at a golf course?" your eyebrows scrunched into a frown as the blonde parked up, shooting you a grin and cutting the engine of her car.
"well where else does one play golf?" leah asked sarcastically, and though you did admit when the girl had asked you to play golf for your third consecutive date, you naively assumed she meant of the miniature kind.
"i thought you meant mini golf! i don't know the first thing about real golf leah." you laughed with a shake of your head. "well then you're in luck my girl because i happen to be a wonderful teacher." leah grinned with a wink, reaching into the back of her car and placing a grey golfers hat on her head.
"oh surely you're not wearing that." you scoffed in disbelief, leah feigning offence and clutching at her chest. "i most certainly am, i'm one of the pros!" the english captain winked, slipping out of the car and hurrying around to open the door for you.
"so chivalrous." you smiled as she bowed mockingly before slinging an arm over your shoulder, locking her car and walking the two of you over to the clubhouse. "so, up for 18 holes then?" leah asked casually and your eyes widened in shock as you arrived to reception.
"18?!"
"two passes for the driving range please, two hour session." leah smiled politely, sliding her membership card over the counter to the young woman who nodded, clicking away at her computer as you sighed in relief and pinched at her arm unappreciative of her teasing.
the receptionist explaining where everything was as well as pointing out the rules and behavioral expectations whilst at the range leah nodded, only half listening before she thanked the young woman and pulled you away.
"i don't know how you've convinced me into this, i happen to hate golf." you admitted honestly as the two of you arrived in your area, setting your things down on the small lounge as leah eyed up the clubs.
"you know its a crime to say those disgustingly hateful words here yeah?" leah hummed as she ran her fingers over a nine iron, pulling it out with a satisfied nod. "its a boring sport for boring rich old men with nothing better to do." you shrugged, taking a seat on the lounge as leah shot you a look.
"well boring old rich men and ego driven footballers who can't just be good at one sport and be satisfied with that." you teased as leah tee'd up a ball. "you better watch your mouth or i'll have you thrown out." leah warned, a smile tugging at her lips as she readied herself to swing.
"don't miss!" you teased right as she swung, throwing the defender off a little as what was supposed to be a perfect drive was mis-hit and merely rolled a few feet forward propelled by a rush of air, leah missing the ball entirely.
leaning on the club leah turned her body to face you as she stared you down in annoyance, you merely dropped your sunglasses down onto your nose and crossing your legs, settling back into the lounge and soaking up the rare bit of sun of a surprisingly warm day.
"i'm beginning to think three might be a cursed number, and this is the date where i realize you're just an insufferable brat." leah shook her head, you hardly able to take the girl seriously in her ridiculous baggy hat.
"gotta try before you buy right?" you grinned cheekily, leah humming and wagging a finger at you, re-teeing up her ball and shuffling back into position, ignoring your mocking words and connecting with a fierce back swing, smiling happily as the ball rocketed right to the back of the range.
"see? you're in the presence of a professional here." leah smiled smugly and you clapped, mockingly congratulating her. "alright then, your turn." leah offered you the club, teeing up the ball for you as you sighed, the two of you swapping positions as she now sat back into the lounge.
"go on babe, impress me." leah challenged, arms resting along the back of the lounge as she waved for you to hurry up. with a roll of your eyes you tried to copy the position she had just taken, leah holding back a laugh as you swung and completely missed.
you reset yourself and once again missed, huffing in frustration and setting yourself up one more time, another miss.
though as the club this time almost flew out of your hands leah decided to take pity on you, standing to her feet. "come on then tiger woods, i'll show you how to actually do it." the blonde chuckled, placing herself behind you, her front pressed into your back.
"hands like this." slender fingers intertwined with yours as she adjusted where your hands rested on the club. "feet apart more." her own gently kicked yours into a wider stance.
"stand up straight." the defender rasped, her breath warm on your neck as she pressed herself even more into you, hands coming to rest on top of your own. "now pull back until your hands are aligned with your shoulder." leah helped you lift the club, stopping at the right position.
"and...swing!" you did as she asked, her hands still atop yours, and your face lit up watching as you connected with the ball and it soared away from you. "much better." leah congratulated, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek before pushing herself back, your hands tingling from her touch.
"what was that?" leah asked as she tee'd you up another ball. "i didn't say anything?" you frowned in confusion. "yeah exactly, i was after a thank you leah." leah sarcastically held a hand to her ear, waving for you to speak.
"sit down leah." you smirked, pushing her away from you with the end of the club as the girl pushed it away, muttering about your lack of manners and taking a seat again. "well go on then!" leah waved, crossing her arms over her chest and waiting expectantly.
"watch the back of the net for this one." you boasted confidently, trying your best to copy the position the older girl just had you in, and swinging hard and...missing.
"oh ladies and gentlemen she's hit it out of the park! look out down below lads cause its raining golf balls!" leah stood to her feet, clapping and cheering for you loudly as you grumbled, kicking the ball instead as it bounced pathetically a few feet away from you.
"just for that i think next time i'll teach you how to kick a football ." leah whistled at the woeful attempt, shaking her head. "oh god please no more sports related dates leah!" you groaned in response.
"nope! we're not stopping until you can do this properly by yourself." leah tutted as you tried to hand her the club. "why do i need to know how to play golf? i can just sit in the golf cart and cheer you on when you play." you bargained with a grin, hugging the taller girl whose arms wrapped around your back.
"mmm my own personal cheerleader, the boys would be so jealous." leah hummed, dipping her head to press a sweet kiss against your lips, pulling away far too soon for your liking. "you can be a supportive girlfriend from the sidelines for football, you're learning how to play golf!" leah decided, turning you around and slotting herself in behind you again, not even registering what she'd just said.
"supportive girlfriend hm?" you asked with a small smile, feeling leahs body freeze up behind you, the blonde quickly stepping back and rambling out a hasty apology. "hey hey leah, i didn't say i minded." you cupped her face and smiled reassuringly, stroking her strongly defined jaw with the pads of your thumb.
nodding hastily and clearing her throat leah shooed you back to the driving mound, settling behind you again and reminding you of how to stand.
wanting to wind her up as she did, you pressed your lower half more into her as she spoke, feigning as if you were working on your foot position as you wiggled back and forth, hearing leah cough a few times behind you, hands moving off the club to sit on your waist, holding you still as you swung, squealing happily as this time you connected and the ball went sailing away into the distance.
"you're a natural." leah complimented with a wink, the rosy pink blush which once coated her cheeks having disappeared as she appeared back to her confident bubbly self.
"did you invite me on a golfing date just so you could show off your skills and get all handsy with me williamson?" you turned around with a teasing smirk, the blonde shrugging innocently.
"maybe, you'll never know kid. now go again! your back swing still needs some serious work."
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ageingfangirl2 · 19 days
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Imagine Being Bonten's Receptionist (Bonten x F Reader) - Tokyo Revengers
FIRST DAY/INTRODUCTIONS
Bonten is Tokyo's most notorious crime syndicate but has an office like any respectable business. even if it was a front. Each member had an office, there were a couple of meeting rooms, and they even had other staff who like you were sworn to secrecy or face deadly consequences. The pay was better than any other place you'd interviewed at, and the hours were reasonable, but you were expected to be flexible if needed to come in early or stay later.
The reception area had a few sofas and tables, and your counter was the first thing you saw when you got off the lift. You couldn't actually enter the offices behind you unless you had a key card or you buzzed them in. It would be quite lonely out here on your own or so you thought.
Hajime Kokonoi had hired you, he said it was because you looked trustworthy, and of course, you made a joke that he'd probably had your background checked. He told you to your face he had and you were the most worthy applicant. When you pushed for more he sealed his lips. On your first day, he put a very nice vase of flowers on the reception counter stating it gave the place more life, but it was a bouquet of your favourite flowers. So you thanked him and he said it was nothing, even though a couple of flowers had to be imported. You heard he was stingy with money.
You were typing away when Takeomi Akashi walked out of the offices with an unlit cigarette between his lips not noticing your presence, because he was busy cussing the lighter that wasn't working. 'Excuse me, let me help you,' you call out, grab the lighter from your bag and walk over to him. 'Who are you?' he asks confused, and you explain as you light the cigarette. 'Thank you, you smoke?' he enquires and you shake your head, and explain your friends do and on nights out you'd rather them come to you than a stranger. 'Smart girl, never smoke.' Takeomi now knew who to come to when his lighter wouldn't work.
Kakucho walks out of the lift on his phone, 'good morning,' you say politely. The poor man jumps out of his skin and nearly drops his phone on the marble floor. You apologise profusely for scaring him and his face gets a little redder the more you talk to him. It's not lost on you that he's not so subtly checking you out, in fact, you find it kind of cute when he should be intimidating. 'Nice to meet you, err I have to go,' he stutters and makes a quick escape into the offices. At the end of the day, he introduces himself properly, telling you if you need anything you can call him. It had been a while since a guy had given you his number.
Word spread by lunchtime about the new hire and that's when you met the Haitani brothers Ran and Rindou. Hajime had warned you to be on your guard, you were innocent and the brothers would try to taint you. 'hello beautiful, I have a reason to come into the office more now,' Ran croons, leaning over the counter staring at you with lustful eyes. You sit up straight, 'it's nice to meet you, but nothing's going to happen.' Ran looks hurt while his brother laughs, 'Maybe you're not as much of a charmer as you think brother. Call me Rindou.' and you're shocked when he takes your hand and kisses it. You would almost believe he was a gentleman if he didn't have the same lustful eyes as his brother. You smile and remove your hand from his, 'I don't know what game you two are playing but it won't be easy. I've been warned.' the brothers exchange a look and huff, 'Koko,' they say in unison. You nod and go back to your computer. Little did you know that your rejection ignited a challenge between the brothers to see who could win you over first.
After the Haitani brothers, you thought you'd be left alone but there were a couple of cocky male employees who thought they could flash expensive suits and watches while being drenched in overpowering cologne. Unlike the brothers these two immediately violated your personal space making you feel uncomfortable, 'can you leave me alone please?' you ask, 'get away from me,' you insist. One of the men goes to grab your arm 'Know your place bitch--' when he's grabbed himself and thrown backwards. Kanji Mochizuki stands guard in front of you, 'the lady said no, just wait until the boss here's about this.' Then men scurry off scared by the threat. He turns to face you with a warm smile, 'Sorry about that, they won't cause you any more problems. Give me a shout if anyone else makes you feel uncomfortable.' you weren't quite sure what to make of him, but you just got your second number of the day.
Hajime or Koko as he told you to call him asked you to stay late to accept a parcel for another member. This is where you met Bonten's no.2 Haruchiyo Sanzu and the leader Manjiro Sano. You were taken aback seeing Sanzu covered in blood while Mikey didn't seem to have a single scratch on him, both looked equally intimidating and you didn't want to get on either of their bad sides. You gulp and look down at the parcel you'd not long signed for seeing it was addressed to Sanzu, 'good evening I have a parcel for Haruchiyo Sanzu.' both men stare at you, Sanzu looks manic while Mikey looks bored. 'Thank you, lovely lady, pink looks good on you,' Sanzu chuckles and takes the parcel before skipping into the office. You brush imaginary creases off your light pink blouse, 'well I guess I'll be going then, have a good night sir,' you pick up your bag, turn off the monitor and stand up noticing Mikey hadn't moved his eyes from you, 'are you okay sir?' you ask. He blinks a couple of times, 'Yes, get home safe,' you nod and press the lift button, feeling a little uneasy having Mikey continue to stare at you.
When you returned to your apartment you threw yourself on the bed thinking about your interesting first day of work, and all the Bonten members you'd interacted with. This was going to be an interesting job.
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khruschevshoe · 3 months
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How Behind-the Scenes Issues Affected the Writing of Doctor Who (Both Good and Bad)
Doctor Who is such a fascinating show to look at from a Watsonian v. Doylist perspective. Like, entirely just from an episode writing point of view:
Twice Upon A Time feels so slow and meandering and even boring in places because Chris Chibnall didn't want to start his run as showrunner and Steven Moffat didn't want the show to lose the coveted Christmas timeslot (ironic, I know) so he bumped the Twelfth Doctor's regeneration from the end of The Doctor Falls (where it makes sense) to the end of the Christmas special
Boom Town (my beloved) only exists because originally there was going to be an episode in its spot explaining that Rose had been molded to be the Doctor's perfect companion (by the Doctor, gross) and the writer didn't have the time to commit to the show
The ending of Last Christmas feels like one inside-a-dream too many because originally Jenna Coleman was questioning whether she was going to leave the show or not and the ending was rewritten after the first readthrough when she decided she wanted to stay for another season
The first five episodes of Season 7 feel like each one takes place in a different genre because that's literally how Steven Moffat pitched it to the writers; for example, A Town Called Mercy was literally pitched as "Doctor Who does a Western"
Not so much a weird one but one I find cool: Eleven's first words and Thirteen's first words were literally written by Moffat and Chibnall respectively, as they were brought in to write the first words of the first Doctors of their runs so as to make it cohesive
The reason why Fourteen isn't wearing Thirteen's clothes when he regenerates is because Jodie Whittaker is much shorter than David Tennant and Russell T. Davies didn't want it to look like he was making fun of the genderfluidity of the Doctor (still think he made the wrong decision, but eh)
Wilfred Mott isn't in the Runaway Bride and Donna's father isn't in Partners in Crime because the actor who played Donna's father, Howard Attfield, died after filming several scenes for Partners In Crime, leading to the character of "Stan Mott" from Voyage of the Damned being written into Partners In Crime as Donna's grandfather
Astrid Peth doesn't die in the original drafts of Voyage of the Damned, but Russell T. Davies wrote what is generally considered one of the most emotional deaths in Doctor Who just because he wanted Kylie Minogue to be able to focus on her music career
Originally Oxygen was written as a prequel to Mummy on the Orient Express, where a corporate representative appeared on a monitor. Said representative was fired for his fumbling of the station and would later live on as the company computer, Gus
During Season 11, Chris Chibnall had to do some major rewrites for many of the one-off episodes, therefore The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos ended up being a first draft that made it to screen. He later admitted it was his least favorite episode of the series
And this is only a fraction of what I found in terms of major behind-the-scenes writing reasons. Though I am still totally willing to critique the product that made it to our screens, finding out the reasons behind some of the more badly written episodes of the show really made me feel sympathy for every showrunner of the show as well as appreciate a lot of the good episodes that ended up here despite the short production schedule/unexpected problems (once again, Boom Town my beloved AND everyone's favorite companion Wilfred Mott only exist because of unforseen problems). Absolutely bonkers, isn't it?
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months
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Finally Home
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!shy!military doctor!reader (r is Lucy's adopted sister)
Summary: You enlist your boyfriend Tim to help you surprise your (adoptive) sister Lucy after being deployed for several months.
Warnings: brief angst and depictions of loneliness/depression, then lots of fluff!
Word Count: 1.6k+ words
Picture from Pinterest
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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Being adopted into the Chen family continues to be the best thing that ever happened to you. It didn’t help your shyness much, but the love and sense of belonging you’ve found outweigh all the bad you’ve experienced. When you joined the military, becoming a military doctor, you overcame your shyness enough to be a great doctor. However, when you stop being a doctor, you’re back to the shy sister Lucy knows and loves.
The last time you were stateside, you met Tim Bradford and fell for him quickly. During the six months you were home, Tim learned nearly everything there is to know about you, and he loves all of you.
Now, in your seventh month stationed in Europe, you look forward to your weekly call home. You call one of two numbers: Tim or Lucy. They’re always together when it’s time to answer, so you know you’ll get a chance to talk to both of them and grow shy from across an ocean. Your dog is sitting beside you as the call begins.
“Hey, sis!” Lucy greets happily when the line connects.
The picture is blurry today, but you smile when you see your sister. She’s in her uniform, in an empty office at the police station. Being seven hours ahead means you usually catch her or Tim while they’re at work.
“Hi,” you answer. “Is Tim there?”
“He’s actually on patrol,” she answers. “I’m sorry; there’s a huge problem here right now so they’ve got a ton of people out there.”
“That’s okay. How are you?”
Lucy looks up when a door opens and turns the computer away.
“I’m pretty good. I want to hear about you, though, because not much has changed here.”
“Move,” Tim demands.
You can only see his hand as he reaches for the computer, and you duck away from the camera as they compete for your attention.
“Chen,” Tim says.
“Which one?” you ask.
“The one whose badge I can take. Just let me say hello.”
“Why don’t you just sit together?” you suggest. “Not to say I don’t enjoy this.”
Tim huffs as he pulls a chair beside Lucy, forcefully turning the computer so you can see both of them. He smiles, and you forget what you were going to say.
“Any word on when you’ll be home next?” Lucy asks.
“Nothing. I’m hoping to hear something soon though. There isn’t much happening, so they’ll probably need to move me soon anyway.”
“Then they should let you call more often,” Tim comments.
“I agree. I miss you.”
Tim elbows Lucy gently.
“She meant both of us,” Lucy argues. “Didn’t you?”
You nod and look up suddenly.
“I have to go,” you explain. “I’m so sorry. I love both of you and I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.”
“I love you,” Tim replies.
“Love you, sis. Be safe,” Lucy adds just before the call ends. “I miss her, Tim.”
“I know.”
Lucy continues staring at the blank screen, and Tim asks her about something he noticed days ago.
“What’s going on?”
“I just- I’m sad all the time. I don’t know if it’s just because she’s gone because I’ve been dealing with her deployments for years, but the only thing I want, have wanted for weeks, is to see her. It’s hard doing everything without her when she’s the only person I want to share things with.”
“I’m sorry, Lucy.”
“Bradford, Chen, we need you back out there when you’re done. This crime spree is getting worse each time we try to make progress,” Wade says.
“Lets go, well ride together,” Tim offers.
“Like the good old days!”
“I hope not exactly like those.”
✯✯✯✯✯
“Superiors are giving you a choice,” your MC commander begins. “Transfer to Germany or temporary leave before being stationed in Fort Bliss, Texas.”
“What would I be doing in Texas, sir?” you ask.
“Continued training and teaching, mostly. And the temporary leave is only two months, but after all this time in Europe I assume you’d return to sunny Los Angeles.”
“I’d like to take the Fort Bragg position, sir.”
“Okay, I’ll let the Surgeon General’s office know. I’m sorry to have interrupted your call; video broadcast has ended, but if you’d like to make a phone call, share the good news, go ahead.”
“Thank you, sir.”
You walk into a private office, dialing Tim’s number and hoping he’s alone. Lucy has been down the last two times you’ve talked. She hides it well, but you’re her sister and can see through her.
“Bradford,” Tim answers.
“Chen,” you reply. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah, I am. What’s going on?”
“Is my sister okay? She’s seemed really sad.”
Tim sighs before he answers, “She misses you. A lot.”
“Then I need your help with something. I’m coming home.”
“When?” Tim asks. “I mean, I’ll help you with anything, but I’m so happy to get to see you again.”
You press your lips together, feeling heat rising in your cheeks.
“I should be there in a week or so, but I’ll let you know a date when I have one.”
“Okay. And the help?”
“I want to surprise Lucy. Any ideas?”
“Well, there is a restaurant she can’t stop talking about.”
“Tim? I’m going to be home for two months.”
“I get you for two months?”
“I can’t wait,” you answer sarcastically.
“Give me a date and time and I’ll get Lucy there.”
“Will she get suspicious?”
“Who do you think I am? She won’t have a clue.”
✯✯✯✯✯
A week later, Lucy has been checking her phone nonstop. She hasn’t heard from you since you abruptly ended the last call, and her concern and sadness about missing you are beginning to overflow. All of her fellow cops have noticed, so when you call and ask a few of them to meet at Lucy’s favorite restaurant to cheer her up, they happily agree.
“Get ready,” Tim demands at the end of the shift. “We’re going to dinner.”
“Why?” Lucy asks.
“Because we’re both worried and need a distraction. She’s fine, but you’re going to make yourself sick worrying like this, Lucy.”
“Okay. Give me ten minutes. Where are we going?”
“Your favorite.”
Lucy smirks as she walks to the locker room. Tim checks his phone but hasn’t received any message saying you landed.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Easy, boy,” you whisper, patting your dog over the Military K-9 vest as the plane lands.
The other passengers are kind enough to let you get your duffel bag and exit the plane first, rushing to the car rental counter and leaving for the restaurant. You’re running late, and don’t even think about letting Tim know you’re back in Los Angeles. As you park, seeing the ‘Service Animals Welcome’ sign on the door, you realize you forgot to tell Tim your dog is with you.
“Let’s go introduce you to my family.”
Pulling your phone from your pocket, you call Tim.
“Hey,” he answers. “I don’t have long before your sister shoves me over a balcony to talk to me.”
“Patio?” you ask, smiling.
“Yep.”
“I’ll be over in a minute.”
“Is that my sister?” Lucy asks, attempting to pull Tim’s arm away from his ear to take the phone.
“Tim, I have to go. I love you. Tell Lucy I said hi,” you say before ending the call.
✯✯✯✯✯
Lucy sits down, dejected. She tries to enjoy the appetizers and her friends sitting around her, but she wishes you were at the party. The door opens, and Lucy glances over before picking up her head and giving her full attention to the person walking through the door. Her jaw drops as she watches you walk toward her, a dog at your side. Lucy’s shock turns to a smile as she jumps from her seat to hug you. As you return her hug, smiling as you whisper how happy you are to see her, Tim’s hand covers yours as he takes the leash from you.
“Hey, bud,” he says to the dog. “Lucy, could I get a turn?”
“No,” she says against your shoulder.
“Hi, Tim,” you greet, turning your face away when he smiles.
“Hiding from my smile,” he muses. “Can you survive two months with me?”
“Two months?!” Lucy repeats, pulling back.
“I like your dress,” you murmur, seeing her for the first time in too long. “And, yes, I have two months of leave before I move to Fort Bliss.”
“Where is that?”
“Texas.”
“You’re staying stateside?” Tim interjects, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You shrug, turning in his arms to hug him.
“Welcome home,” he says, kissing your jaw as his arms tighten around you.
“Thanks for helping me with the surprise.”
“I’ll always be here with you.”
“So will I!” Lucy adds.
“Are you going to fight to hug me now?” you ask.
“Yes!” everyone at the table answers.
“And you brought a dog!” Lucy cheers, lowering her hand to pet your dog.
“I love you,” Tim says, pulling a chair out so you can sit between him and Lucy.
“I love you,” you reply softly. “I have one more thing I didn’t tell you, though.”
“What?” Lucy and Tim ask together.
“The position I took is a teaching job, so I’ll have more time to visit.”
They hug you simultaneously, no longer fighting over who gets to go first. You drop your chin towards Tim’s arm and smile. When your dog puts his paws in your lap and joins the hug, you know you are finally home. Sitting at a table with the two people you love most in the world, you know the next two months will be amazing, even if you're shy the entire time.
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