#he doin a spinny
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Based on this set of photos. I saw the post and thought of them hehe
#if it s not obvious they’re jumping#chdoodles#mob psycho 100#mp100#reigen arakata#kurata tome#serizawa katsuya#ekubo#dimple#they’re so so silly I love them#nobody tell me that dimple wouldn’t show up in a photo. I want him there#((and didnt wanna draw another human agsjhss))#he doin a spinny#was going to draw an alt version of this with tome also doing a silly but. I ran out of time#sooooo shes doing a bit dw about it
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Midnight Comics (And other fun things/s)
ROTTMNT Donatello x Yokai!reader
A loose part two to The Junkyard at the End of the World
Part three is here
Part four is here
Part five is here
This takes place in the bad timeline, a bit after the Krang invasion. There's mentions of blood and light angst. Reader is forced to read comics.
3k words
***
I sat cross-legged on top of my office desk, struggling with the campus’s laser cutter.
Donatello sat across the room, perched on a spinny chair as he messed around with chemicals from April’s school. The glowing blue substance had apparently been found to permanently damage the Krang’s organic matter, and Donnie was running tests while April led a party out to get more.
I was doing something far less noble- trying to laser-cut gears out of acrylic for my lamp design.
I had set the base a few feet away from me. It was an old lamp from the 1920s that I took from an antique store a few weeks into the apocalypse, and if my Donnie-approved blueprints worked as planned, I’d be able to turn it on and off with a series of gears, like a tiny Rube Goldberg Machine….Also known as a normal manual machine.
There was a crackle of electricity, and I followed the sound to the comm-link I had left on the ground.
“Commanders present in the base, come in.” Said Leo’s voice over my comm-link.
“What is it, ‘Nardo? I’m on the brink of something important, so this had better be good.” Donnie scowled, speaking into his wrist panel.
“Actually, both ‘Tello and I probably need a break. We’ll be there in a sec.” I interrupted, leaning over Donnie’s shoulder to speak into his comm-link.
“Rad.” Leo answered, and disconnected.
Donnie shoved me off his shoulder, eyes wide. “What’re you talking about? We don’t need a break, we need to focus!”
I held my hands up innocently. “Forgive me, but you were working on this when I went to bed last night. And unless you have proof over the security cameras of you leaving to take a break between when I left last night and when I returned this morning, then…you need a break.”
He rolled his eyes. “(Y/N), thus is the life of a brilliant scientist!”
“Your left eyebrow is mostly wiped off.” I said, flicking his forehead. “Besides, we’re going to a meeting. That’s still kind of work.”
He flicked me back. “No, no, you go, fill me in later.”
I sighed, shaking my head in resignation. “Leonardo is gonna be mad…”
“...Hm...He’ll manage.” Donnie answered, grabbing a sharpie and a hand mirror to re-draw his smudged eyebrow.
I frowned, crossing my arms. “What if the meeting is important? What if, uh…they found some kinda….Krang infection antidote…. or something?”
He spun around in his chair, eyebrow back in place. “Highly unlikely. But just in case…fine. I’ll go if it gets you off my back.”
“Good.” I sighed. “Finally.”
***
“Oh. You just called us up for comics.” I said disdainfully as Leo proudly showed us what he’d found.
“Just comics?!” He gasped, shoving me closer to the stack of Jupiter Jim comic books he’d found on a scouting mission.
“Uh…yeah?” I said weakly, looking at the dusty pile. “I mean…I love Jupiter Jim as much as anyone with mediocre taste in sci-fi, but was this…really worthy of a meeting?”
Mikey was the one who gasped this time, grabbing my shoulders in shock. “Is this worthy of a meeting?! Who raised you?!”
“Uh…” I shoved Mikey off of me. “Please don’t do that, and uh…yeah no, I thought this would be…important-er? More important?”
“GASP!” Said…Donnie? (What hath the world become?!) “I’m not usually one for feeling emotions, but ohmigosh!” He exclaimed, running towards the stack in excitement.
“...Huh, I didn’t know your face was capable of expressions beyond mild amusement. What’re you doin’ with your mouth, ‘Tello? I hardly recognize you.” I teased, but he barely reacted.
…Huh.
“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me boys. Tell me…what exactly is so great about these comics?” I sighed, sitting down next to Leo as he aggressively jotted his name down in each of the ‘this book belongs to’ pages. It was almost impressive.
Leo grinned. “Oh, you’re at the right place, (L/N). These babies have so much secret lore in ‘em, it’ll knock your socks off.”
I looked down at my clawed feet. “I can’t wear socks.”
“See? You’re already witnessing the effects!”
“I’ve never worn socks. Or shoes, for that matter.”
Leo’s grin didn’t waver. “Neither have we!”
I sighed, and picked up a comic book. “Jupiter Jim versus Saturn Steve…part forty-four. Wow. I am truly taken aback by this…work of art.”
Donnie grinned, clearly missing the sarcasm. “Oh, you think that trash is good? Wait ‘till you read my favorite- and by far the best and greatest part of the franchise- Atomic Lass!”
I nodded half heartedly. “Um…great?”
He shoved the book into my hands, grinning. “You’ll love it.”
I smiled weakly. “Uh…okay! Rad.”
***
They were right.
Ohmigosh, they were so right.
These stupid comics were freaking brilliant and I was maybe a bit in love with Atomic Lass. I hungrily flipped to the next page as the stack of already read comics grew ever higher…I was finally onto the fifty-ninth and second-to-last installment of The Atomic Trilogy, and I wasn’t ready for it to be over- oh wait I just finished the last page, shit.
I sat in silence for a minute, and checked the clock.
It was midnight. I’d been reading comics for the past four hours. Goddamnit. Luckily there was only one more book in the series, I noted as I reached for the stack of unread books.
Wait what?
I tried to reach for it again, only to find that it was…gone?
A chill settled in my bones as I realized the inevitable. I’d never had the final book.
…Donnie probably has it?
No, don’t bother him, it’s midnight.
Actually, he’s probably awake. I vote we bother him.
I smirked and stood up, slipping out the door as silently as I could as I headed down the hallway towards the Engineering Building.
It was nice out on the campus when people were asleep, I noted. Obviously there were still a few people awake, that was inevitable what with the sheer amount of people, but still. It was…peaceful. I was almost tempted to sing, but I resisted the urge for fear of waking someone up or being seen singing my heart out in solitude.
(I was really tempted to, though. It’d be perfect for my ‘being a real-life Disney princess’ checklist.)
I shoved open the door and stepped outside of Huo Hall, my dorm, and into the midsummer night air. What had once smelled of vague thoughts, falling stars, and foggy dream-like movements had been burned into the rotten stench of the world falling apart around us like everything else the Krang had destroyed.
It was moments like these that I was reminded of what I was perpetually trying to forget, and my Disney movie shifted and warped into a Shakespearian tragedy. Suddenly my throat wasn’t bursting with a rhapsody about the stars and the sky, but a requiem of lost hope and fallen dreams and fear of the future and I wanted to cry-
I sighed, taking a final glance at the smog-filled sky before ducking into the Engineering Building.
I was lucky, I told myself. I was surviving. That was more than most people could say. I had survived this long, and a few bouts of hopelessness weren’t gonna get in my way of locating the sixtith chapter of The Atomic Trilogy, building a rad lamp with my brand-new friend, and saving humanity.
So I forced a smile that slowly shifted into a genuine smile as I neared the Lab.
I grabbed a few drinks from the vending machine and knocked on the door.
No one answered, but I saw purple lights flashing from under the door.
“Donnie?” I called, knocking again. “Donatel-lo! Open up dude, I wanna fangirl about Atomic Lass!”
Still no answer. I frowned and shoved the door open.
He was passed out on his desk, wrapped in a purple hoodie. …Hm. I…should probably not bother him…sigh.
I shook my head and turned to leave, but paused first as I noticed the thermostat. 50 degrees fahrenheit..It was cold in here, and he was a reptile…that means he’s cold-blooded, which means he’s probably freezing, right?
I shook my head, and against my better judgement, I tossed a blanket over his shoulders. It probably wouldn’t make much of a difference, but hey, I was gonna do my part at keeping my new lab partner from turning into a turtle–sicle.
And with a moment of hesitation, I reluctantly decided to leave him one of the vending machine iced teas. Maybe it would just encourage him further to not leave the shared lab, but well…it just seemed…like a nice gesture, I guess.
I sighed, audibly this time. “You, sir, owe me an iced tea.” And with a final eyeroll at my failed quest, I slunk back outside towards Huo Hall.
***
Donnie cracked his eyes open at the distant click of…footsteps. (Y/N) footsteps, judging by the sound of claws on linoleum. His heart sank a bit- he wasn’t in the mood for interaction, especially not if he was just gonna get told off for ‘not taking care of himself and blah-blah-blah…’
But no, the footsteps had faded? And there was a blanket around his shoulders…
He slowly sat up, and glanced at his desk to see a bottle of tea and a threatening text message.
Jerk-face dragon: Hey, what the HELL did you do with chapter sixty??? I am going to HUNT YOU DOWN if you don’t surrender it soon.
Jerk-face dragon: Also u owe me a drink (kidding, it’s free lol)
He smiled, shaking his head. He’d respond later…
Oh wait, (Y/N) didn’t have the final chapter of The Atomic Trilogy?!
You: What did you DO WITH THAT COMIC?! I lent you all of them, you had BETTER not have lost it.
Jerk-face dragon: WAIT YOU DONT HAVE IT???
You: ‘Don’t’. Don’t forget the apostrophe.
Jerk-face dragon: Oh piss off with that, we’re in the midst of something important!! I NEED to know what happens next!!
You: Well then you shouldn’t have lost my comic!!
Jerk-face dragon: How are you italicizing words in text??
You: I’m using my own tech. I can italicize words because I designed the software.
Jerk-face dragon: …Oh that’s actually sick
You: How is that ‘sick’??
Jerk-face dragon: *Cool. Sick as in cool lol
You: Oh
You: Also WHERE’S MY COMIC?!
Jerk-face dragon: I wish it were the good old days when you could just pirate comics :(
You: Well it isn’t, and you owe me my comic.
Jerk-face dragon: i don’t freaking have your comic.
You: Scoff.
Jerk-face dragon: Oh yeah?! Well scoff right back at you, grape-boy!
Oh. Because of the whole…purple thing. What a weak comeback.
You: that isn’t even clever.
Jerk-face dragon: ‘That’. Capitalization is important.
You: Hypocrite
Jerk-face dragon: Likewise.
Donnie sighed, opening the bottle of tea. He would definitely be needing the caffeination if he planned on staying up longer… Oh. He reached for his phone.
You: Thanks for the sustenance. It is, perhaps, less refined than flavorless juice, but I appreciate the caffeine.
Jerk-face dragon: No problem lol
Jerk-face dragon: Also you should get some sleep you nerd
You: Hypocrite.
Jerk-face dragon: Okay, okay, fine :(
***
I sighed and turned off my phone, stretching out on my bed to the best of my ability. It was a tiny twin-sized bed, and if I stretched my claws out, they scraped the baseboard. Not only that, but there was only about a foot or two of floorspace beyond the bed.
I scowled, picturing the days when I first sealed the campus- It was just six months ago that the invasion happened, and three months ago that I had my nice bedroom. I sighed dreamily, picturing my old room- It was the fanciest suite on campus, clearly made for some rich famous fool who was probably devoured by the Krang.
I had unfortunately given it up for Splinter.
He deserved it, and I didn’t regret it, but I was still kinda salty about past (Y/N)’s empathetic-and-in-the-moment-decisions…
My comm-link blared.
I panicked, trying to reach for it and getting tangled in my blankets-
“(Y/N), Miky, Donnie, come in! Come in now!” Leo yelled over the speaker.
“Standing by, sir!” I yelped.
“Oh, you’re calling me sir now? I could get used to that- okay but seriously you guys, meet me in the med bay now!”
“Yessir- er, yes Leonardo!” I squeaked.
“What’s going on?” Said Donnie’s monotonous drawl, quickly switching to a more panicked sound as he spat the next part. “The MED BAY?!”
“On my way, ‘Nardo!” Yelled Mikey.
I ran out into the hall, tripping over my claws as I tried to sprint faster. I busted through the doors of Huo Hall, barely registering the sound of Mikey behind me, and darted across the courtyard toward the designated Imfirmery.
A cold dread washed over me as Mikey and I approached the building, making nervous eye contact.
“You don’t think it’s April’s chemical-recovery party….right?” I said quietly.
Mikey shrugged, sweat dripping down his brow. “I hope not…”
“I don’t think there were any- huh-any other parties out today, so unless someone’s sick…” Said Donnie between breaths as he caught up with us.
I swallowed and shoved the door open.
“Guys!” April exclaimed, pulling the two turtles into a hug. “Oh god, guys…Cass got hurt, we tried to fight it off but she’s losing blood and-”
Donnie and Mikey hugged her back, murmuring things about something-
I maneuvered past them towards Leo, Splinter, Raph, and the mangled body of Cassandra Jones.
“Oh my god….” I whispered, eyes trailing over the mess of bloody gashes all over her. “What happened? Where’s the rest of the party?!”
“The Krang zombies…” She groaned, voice cracking. “Infected…they know we’re here…”
“Oh shit oh shit oh shit- is she infected?” I exclaimed, examining her wounds. “Fuck where’s her pulse…”
“I don’t know, I don’t know-” Leo said, setting her down on the infirmary bed.
I took a shallow breath. Okay, okay, blue protocol. Cool cool cool, cool cool cool. I closed my eyes and sorted through the hydrogen and oxygen in the room, combining them into cool water.
“Donnie, go get the alcohol. The medical alcohol.” I ordered, floating the water towards a towel. I caught it in the towel and went to work at cleaning the cuts as best as I could, and Donnie returned a second later with the medical alcohol.
“Okay, okay, okay, okay-” I said in one breath, running a trembling hand through my hair, “Uh…uh…do we have any doctors onsite? Uhm-”
Leo frowned. “Raph, Mikey, Splinter, go find a doctor. April, clean her wounds with the alcohol.”
I nodded. “Leo, find the medical supplies and set them on the table. Donnie- you’ve got your metal arms on, right?”
“Duh.”
“Cool cool, you’re coming with me.” I ordered, turning towards Huo Hall. “We’ve gotta find my mom’s spells.”
He frowned, following me. “I don’t know. ‘Magic’ and ‘Donnie’ don’t always get along.”
“Well lucky you, you’re just a glorified purse right now, grape-boy.” I spat, picking up my pace as I broke out into the night air. He scowled but kept following me.
“That still isn’t clever,” He said helpfully. “And my battle shell is an amazing piece of tech, far beyond your primitive ‘purse’-”
“Well y’know what bud?” I snapped, clenching my fists. “I’m not in the mood for clever witty one liners. I’m tense. This is tense, and I’m scared. Cass is a human, and I barely know what to do- I just vaguely remember how I used to heal stray cats a lifetime ago! And did you hear her?! They know we’re here and if they catch us, we’re dead, and a hundred humans that trust us are dead, and we need my mom’s magic that I barely know how to use!”
Donnie didn’t reply immediately, though his stupid sharpie eyebrows furrowed.
“Maybe you’re less like Leo than I thought.” He said finally. “Look, I’m not good with this whole…’feelings’ biz.” He did air quotes, “But if it makes you feel better or something, we can fly there and back. It’s faster.”
I sighed, the tension slowly lessening as I got more oxygen into my lungs. “It’s okay.” I finally sighed, shoving open the door to Huo Hall. “We’re already practically there…but the gesture is appreciated, ‘Tello. Really.”
He nodded wordlessly, and we dove into the dorms.
I practically broke my door down as we reached it, and pulled out all the boxes out from under the bed.
“Ha. Whaddaya know, it’s The Atomic Trilogy chapter sixty!” Said Donnie’s voice from the head of my bed.
I shot him a glare, and he coughed. “See, I was right. You did lose it.”
“Segue- Here.” I said, handing his metal arms the bigger box and his organic arms one of the smaller boxes. “I don’t know which ones we’ll need, so I’m just gonna bring all three.”
He nodded. “But for the record, (Y/N), I’m not a purse. I’m a per-son. And my advanced tech would prefer if you kept that in mind.”
I scoffed. “Sure. Whatever.”
By the time we returned to the Med Bay, Raph Splinter and Mikey had found a human doctor who tended to Cassandra while April hovered over her in a panic.
“Okay.” I sighed, setting down my box. “April. Cass said that the Krang know we’re here- I assume that that’s accurate.”
April nodded, swallowing thickly.
“Theoretically, they shouldn’t be able to get through the current shields so long as these scrolls are intact.” I swallowed, and fidgeted with my sleeve. “But theoretically isn’t really enough right now…back to you, Leon.”
Leo nodded, a nervous yet hollow look in his eyes as he assessed the situation. It was almost scary how it was so similar and yet so different from how he’d looked this afternoon, and for a second I was reminded yet again of the fact that he was just as much of a confused kid as I was.
Damn. He was the same age as me, yet he was our leader…
And I thought the scariest part of this year would be keeping a solid GPA, not stressing about our dwindling population. I couldn’t imagine how it all must be for Leo.
“Okay. Don-Tron, you make some kind of…I don’t know, tech-y safe to lock the scrolls into. Mikey, you’re the best magic-user here, so start reading those scrolls as if they’re limited edition Jupiter Jim comics, ‘kay?”
Donnie and Mikey nodded, getting to work.
“Everyone else…” He sighed. “You guys can get to bed. The patrol is patrolling and the magic seems to be intact. Maybe read some of the comics we got today or something.” He shrugged, attempting an only sort-of convincing smile.
I nodded, body suddenly overcome with fatigue as red sunlight glinted through the windows.
T’was bedtime.
***
#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt donnie x reader#donatello hamato#rottmnt donnie#rise of the tmnt#rise of the tmnt x reader#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#leonardo hamato#donatello#donatello x reader#donnie x reader#rise donnie#rise donnie x reader#rottmnt#the junkyard at the end of the world
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☕️ + sibling dynamics in the batfam
okay so. this is how it is in my head:
dick tries to shoulder everything. he needs to learn how to be taken care of, especially with his tendency to spread himself way too thin. not good! but he tries to show actual affection to his siblings. something something he should be allowed some muffins
cass is confrontational and can be brash, but also a good listener. she tries to be patient, comforting. she likes hanging with her littler siblings more though, just doin’ stuff. vibing
jason is. uh. an older brother. by this i mean that he likes bullying tim & damian. he’s also a you ger brother, which means he likes giving shit to dick. he’s probably the best at setting boundaries, too. his opinions are insightful, if you ask for them
tim has a belief that he should not be prioritized. this is untrue, but he also likes planning things for his siblings! in terms of codependency, he plays the rescuer role (and the victim role. fuckin hell, tim)
duke’s like. you know that cousin that is kind of your sibling but also not? y’know, the one that likes to stir shit up? he’s that. i also want him reunited with his (de-jokerized) parents so there is a bit of distance in how i view him
damian likes to steal things, like a magpie. the most imperial little child you will ever meet, too! jason calls him dramatic (which is hypocritical bullshit) just because he has a spinny chair and sits on it with alfred on his lap like the godfather. also he throws pokéballs at tim a lot
#i think i forgot about this#oh well!#batfam#dick grayson#cassandra cain#jason todd#tim drake#duke thomas#damian wayne#ask games#asks#hm.#depth#calm down per#character shit
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Whumptober — Day 19
Prompt: Repeatedly Passing Out
Character: Love1
Today is one of the bad days. Love1’s body doesn’t work quite right at the best of times, but some days, he’s worse off than others. Some days, he can barely stay standing without something going horribly wrong.
And this time, the problem seems to be blacking out— which is far from convenient. Hitting the floor every few minutes with little to no warning is quickly getting old. The handlers are as sick of it as he is, and there’s only so much Love1 can do to play off his continued failures of the day.
There are only so many times he can laugh it off before people start getting irritated. Or worse, wondering what’s wrong with him this time.
After enough time spent lying sprawled on the floor after going in and out of consciousness, the handlers finally do get sick of him. Love1 can’t make the sight of his lanky body collapsed on the ground funny forever, and when he goes down suddenly enough to whack his head on a wall and kick-start an awful nosebleed, the handlers call it quits with watching him.
“You’re your Master’s problem now,” they say when they order him to your office. “Your owner can deal with you. Save us the trouble.”
Of course, Love1 has no choice but to comply. He ends up outside your office, already starting to get that world-through-a-fishbowl feeling that means he’s close to passing out again. You answer after one quick knock, and he’s not sure if he should be grateful for that or not. A quick greeting of, “Hey, hey, hey, how’s my super cool Master doin’ today~?” comes out well enough, but before he can hear your answer, his vision blurs badly.
He feels himself go down a second later— only the rush of dizziness and the collision of his body with the linoleum beneath. Everything’s spinny and dark for a second after that until he can get his eyes fully open again.
You’re standing over him. Staring. Worried.
Love1 is an instant away from laughing when he feels blood dripping down his chin. “Ah... oops,” he says, trying to sound lighthearted.
You help him up and herd him into your office before he can give in to the impulse to bolt. He winds up sitting on the unfairly comfortable couch off to the side of your desk with a handful of tissues pressed to his dripping nose. “What’s going on?” you ask. “The soldiers told me you were having problems today. Are you alright? That... didn’t look good.”
“Nah, I’m just fine,” Love1 insists, even though he’s still dangerously dizzy. “Just a bad day, y’know? Nothin’ my tip-top self can’t handle.” When you don’t look convinced, he continues. “I’m not that bad, promise. See, I’m doing a-okay now~!” With that boast, he flashes a smirk, stands up, and—
—blacks out again instantly when the headrush gets the better of him.
This time, Love1 wakes up lying on the couch. He was out for longer, apparently, especially considering how much more concerned you look.
“You’re not okay,” is the first thing you say to him.
He can’t really deny it, this time.
You hand him a juice pouch after that, the military-grade hydrating kind, with the straw already poked through. Love1 spends all of a second wondering if he’s going to be poisoned like this before giving up and taking a long swallow. Even if that was the case, what could he do about it now?
The orders that follow are to sit there and rest while you go back to your work. Love1 sips at his juice uncomfortably. It tastes fine, no bitter tang of drugs to be found, but the whole scenario is starting to make him nervous. You haven’t shown any irritation yet, even though he’s passed out in front of you twice in the span of five minutes, but... there’s no way that’s going to last. Now that he’s in front of Master, he needs to worry about wearing out his welcome. No one wants their tool to act so broken.
After he’s finished the juice, though, you just give him another pouch and one of the sweeter kinds of protein bars. He hesitates to take a bite, unsure of the consequences of food outside of designated meal times, but you tell him directly, sternly, that he needs to eat it— and what else can he do then? Having something in his stomach eases the dizzy feeling a bit, it turns out. He takes slow, careful bites, trying to buy himself some time.
Love1 is expecting to be kicked out when the second juice pouch and the protein bar are gone, but instead, your next order is simply for him to lie down right there on the couch and rest for a while. Sleep, if he can.
Something has to be wrong. There has to be a catch somewhere. He learned not to trust charity ages ago, and charity is the only thing that this bizarre kindness can be described as. Even though he’s been nothing but a nuisance, you’re going out of your way to take care of him.
And yet... the wise choice is probably to take advantage of it. It’s not often that he gets any kind of proper rest, let alone time to take it easy and recover when his body is out to get him like it is today.
Loathe as he is to admit it, Love1 knows he needs this.
“You can stay here for as long as you want,” you tell him as he finally kicks up his feet onto the arm of the couch and lies back. “No one will bother you while you’re here. And we both know you’re in no shape to go back to your duties today, don’t we?” You don’t sound angry at all.
“Well then, thank you for your hospitality~” Love1 grins in response, hoping to muffle the panic still thudding at the inside of his chest.
That’s all there is to it, in the end. You go back to whatever paperwork is stacked up today, and Love1 gets to lie there, unbothered, with the calm, steady scratching of your pen in the background to focus on.
Whatever the catch is... what can he do but enjoy this while it lasts?
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Uralau Shi’Masu WIP
Hiya people! just wanted to give y’all a lil sneak peak of a request fic I am writing, it’ll prob only be a few chapters, but will be a goodie imo. Classes start up soon so pls be gentle lol.
Plot: Spock is sent planetside for a Scientific mission because he is the only one who can now resist the side effects of the pheromones the local flora exudes. As a horrible ion storm ravages the planet, the storm causes issues with the transporter, forcing Spock to be stranded and find shelter until the ion storm dissipates.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Leonard's time as the Enterprise's CMO, he wasn't sure how shit turned sideways as quickly as it had. But sure as shit, it did this time. Ya see it'd begun just like any other typical week on the Enterprise: slow and sure as shit boring, like molasses dribbling out of a jar. Per usual, the time passed monotonously, like it always did. And to make things even better, they'd just received orders from the Admiralty to do everyone's favorite pastime: star charting. (Scuttlebutt around the ship said that Alpha shift had let out a big ol' sigh at the new, well 'sides the Hobgoblin. Leonard knew Spock and his minions had been tickled pink at the chance to do some space frolicking; the shits!)
On Leonards's side of the fence, yearly physicals and vaccines had taken up a good chunk of his time. That, and making sure Scotty's little hellions' antics hadn't compelled them to burn themselves to a crisp being certified dumbass'. Leonard knew from previous adventures that their short, tranquil period would soon end in a firey shitshow that is First Contact missions. That, or Jim would miraculously forget that he's allergic to strawberries. Again. Ugh.
McCoy knew that his mess of a best friend had been sullen and restless about the sheer number of nothing they'd done lately, and damn Leonard to hell if he wasn't keen to recognize that he was too. He even recounted to Jim during lunch in the 'mess that he'd "been so bored - he had taken inventory twice this week! and it was only Tuesday!" The cranky brunette had been losing his goddamn mind if he was bein' honest. Hell, if these next few days went swiftly and without trouble, he'd deliberately ask Jim n' Spock to swing a second chess night this week. If Leonard played his cards right, he'd needle Spock into continuing their over-lunch discussion regarding Vulcan Mollusk and whether they were considered plants or animals.
Sadly that fleeting train of thought was rapidly flung out the nearest airlock as Leonard heard the doors of his Sickbay woosh open. In came the epitome of Leonard's problems, Jim, flirtin' with Leonard's Head Nurse. God, that dumb blonde Cassanova couldn't help himself, could he?
"Wonder what the lil' shit wants this time?" Leonard quietly questioned himself, stretching his back by rolling his shoulder blades and neck from side to side until he heard a satisfying pop. Leonard rose from his chair with a weary sigh and steered himself out the office door and onto Sickbay's main floor. Walking down the row of beds, Leonard could see the ship's Captian holding what looked like a cup of coffee while conversing in hushed tones with Christine in the doorway of Sickbay. The surly Doctor crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Jim his renowned 'What do you want, dumbass?' scowl.
"Whaddya want Jim? Don't tell me you came here to bring me coffee and harass my Head Nurse. Isn't there something better you should be doin' like, I dunno, sitting that pretty little ass of yours on your big spinny chair on the bridge?" Leonard griped, grumbling a quick "Sir" through his teeth; they were still on shift. That little sentiment earned him a small chuckle from Jim.
The blonde energetically shifted his attention towards his friend, supplying him a James T. Kirk signature shit-eating grin and that cup of life's nectar he was holding. "Nah, Bones, nothing like that! I just came down because it's the end of shift, and I needed my emotional support DILF to take me into his arms and tell me how pretty I am!" Jim pulled his stupid 'Look at me! I'm precious, don't you love me?' face purposely to piss Leonard off. Christine shook her head while letting out an amused chuckle, while McCoy scoffed at the blonde's antics. With a smirk, the Captian slid cozily up to his best friend and slung his arm around the grumpy Southerner's shoulder. "C'mon Bones, it's after shift! Don't you want to hear how exciting my day was or the juicy gossip I heard while passing by our new gaggle of fresh meat? Ensigns Amura and Th'aanv had started a little betting pool about who would still stand after a night of boozing Scotty's hooch." As Jim gossips, his smirk grows into a leer, his blue eyes twinkling with humor. McCoy doesn't like that look in Jim's eyes. "Plus, I heard a little somethin' from Chekov today. Fun fact, did y'know that you and Spock are engaging in a secret love affair?" Hearing this, McCoy chokes. God, did the whiz kid really think that about his commanding officers?
#leonard mccoy#bones mccoy#spones#spock x mccoy#romance#these bitches gay#stupid to lovers#jim kirk#jim kirk is the bestest of friends#away mission gone romance#grumpy but caring bones#writing#star trek
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Kix gives you a grin. “I’m just glad you still ask for me after all this time. Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right. So what’re we lookin’ at today, hm?” He moves to sit in his spinny chair, his attention solely focused on you with that soft, understanding gaze of his.
I shrug, “I don’t really know, I’ve just been super sore after missions? For like, the past two months. And then it doesn’t go away. It just gets worse when I’m there and then stays bad until another one hits. And, this may be tmi, but my breasts hurt so bad I haven’t been able to wear a bra for a week.” I cringe.
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continued from here w/ @all-fleshed-out
Well, he wasn't mad. If he was a little more fit he would have been fascinated by the fact she had burned a hole in the quilt he was using. Fact was, he was exhausted.
"Opa wishes y'ain't spinnin' in circles befer bedtime. I ain't mad. Jus' maybe three spinnies instead o' twenty-seven." He counted. That was one shaken toddler. Not stirred. Not on the rocks. Very shaken.
He fixed the new quilt on top of the bed and tried to smile. "Molly gets a new dress... Think there's 'nough fabric left."
That was the good news. She had perfect aim. He wondered if she practiced. He wondered if she had been yelled at a lot so she had to practice.
"...Don't keep doin' this fer me to keep makin' ya new clothes. Then m'gonna get mad."
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Hi hope you are having a wonderful day! I absolutely LOVE your Tmnt fanfics! And I would like to request a one shot of Rise Leo x male reader with prompt #49 where The reader steals one of Leo’s shirts (since we see the turtles wear clothes sometimes in the show)
Prompt 49: "Is that my shirt?”
The fantastical case of the missing shirt
Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist
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Leo had been wandering around his room for what felt like hours, going through the minimal wardrobe set up - clothes racked up on a chair - and through his draws, but kept coming up empty handed.
He had then gone to Raph's room, busting through the door in a fury, pointing accusing fingers at the snapping turtle. Leo continued to storm around the room, pulling out every article of clothing he could find, "Hey, hey, woah! Whattya doin' man! That's all my stuff!"
"Where is it? I know it's here!" Leo muttered under his breath, wrist deep into Raph's clothing. The eldest shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know! I don't know! Would ya just stop it!" he pulled Leo up by his shoulders and threw him out of the room, "Go mess up Mikey's room or somethin'!" he yelled out.
"Mikey, eh?" Leo hummed, now knowing his next stop. Mikey was just sitting with one of his favourite teddy bears, enjoying a simple and elegant tea party when a delicate knock on the door stopped him.
"Cominggggg!" he called out, putting his tea down and addressing the guests in his room "If you'll excuse me Miss Teddywinkle." Mikey leapt up, dusted himself off and moved to answer the door. The moment the solid wood opened, Leo dashed in, chaos surrounding his aura.
Mikey watched in horror as Miss Teddywinkle went flying into the air, her teacup spiralling out of her paws, the event occurring seemingly in slow motion. Mikey's scream was deep, his tears fanning across his face. He dropped to his knees, now holding the dying Miss Teddywinkle in his arms.
Leo stood back from his destruction of Mikey's room, "Nah, I still can't find it!" he groaned. He looked down to Mikey, "Yeesh, what happened here?"
"Leo you killed Miss Teddywinkles! Now who will I have sophisticated tea parties with?" Mikey whined. Leo rolled his eyes, "Just get Donnie to fix it- wait a minute, that's it!" Leo clicked his fingers as soon as the lightbulb lit, "Donnie must have taken it. Oh ho hooo, of course, it all makes sense now."
As soon as Leo was in Mikey's room he was gone, out like a leaf in the wind. He made a mad dash for Donnie's lab, banging on the metal doors like a psychopath. Eventually, they did open and Leo was finally able to confront the thief. Donnie was sat at his desk, shell facing his brother while he worked, "What is it, Leo?"
"Ha, it must've been you who stole my shirt, how else would you know it's me!" He pointed an accusing finger at Donatello. Donnie sighed, pinching his brother together. He turned in his spinny chair to face Leo, a mock look of pain on his face, "No, genius, I knew it was you because you're the only person to bang on the doors like that and two, I have security cameras."
"Oh, so you didn't steal my shirt?" Leo asked, slowly becoming defeated. Donnie gasped, hand pushed to his chest, "Me? Steal your shirt? Are you insane? I'd never wear anything like that, it's way too cheap. Besides, Blue was never my colour, I prefer purple as it symbolises royalty in some countries."
"Well, if you haven't stolen my shirt and Mikey and Raph are clean, then who has it?" Leo rubbed his chin in deep thought, it wouldn't have been Splinter, god he hoped it wasn't Splinter; he'd probably burn the shirt and forget about wearing anything remotely similar to it ever again.
"What about your boyfriend in the projector room." Donnie snidded, turning back to his work with a chuckle. Leo huffed, "I don't have a boyfr- (Y/N)!" he shouted out, rushing out of the lab and to where you last said you'd be.
And right on cue, there you were sat in a bean bag, the comic he lent to you safely in your hands. And on your body was his lucky t-shirt, the exact article of clothing that he had been looking for, and it was just right there...on you...the entire time.
"Is that my shirt?" Leo asked, drawing your attention away from the comic. You looked down and shrugged, "Yeah, I accidentally split some soda down mine and grabbed the first thing I could find. Why, is it okay?"
Leo shook his hands dismissively, "No, no, it looks good on you- I mean, it looks great- IT'S GREAT!" he finally spat out, rosy-faced. You snorted at him, returning your gaze to the comic "Thanks, it's my new favourite shirt."
"Why's that?" he asked, still utterly embarrassed. You glanced over at him with an honest smile, "Cause it smells like you."
You think Leo just died right then and there.
#rottmnt leonard x reader#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt#fandom#fanfic#fan#oneshot#fanfiction#reader#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt leo x reader#leo tmnt#fluff#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt#romance#reading#rottmnt leo x reader#rottmnt leonardo x reader#rottmnt leonardo#rottmnt leo#male reader#tmnt leonardo#rottmnt raph#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt mikey
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ok so scout has an array of stims right? and sometimes he'll like steal other peoples stims, like once they saw how spy did the thing with his butterfly knife where he does the spinny thing and scout wouldn't leave spy alone until spy taught him how to spin things with their fingers
Oh yea yes yes
He unconsciously mimics tics and stims all the time
Sometimes if he's hanging around Medic he starts whistling because that's something he's heard him do before
When he's around soldier he has to stop himself from doing salutes and stuff
Sniper is the only one who really notices and he's like "tf r u doin m8" and scout didn't even realize he was doing it
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Hiiiii Elon. I took somethin', I think? I thought they were painkillers but the room's doin'....a spinny thing. Anyway, did I ever tell you your brother's like....REALLY pretty. Like, I just wanna....hold him in my arms real. Gentle. Like a hamburger. I wanna smooch his face a whole bun---is it hotter than hell in here or is it just me (raystxntz)
Aaaah, I see, I see.
Well, I Have to agree with you because I'm his twin, he is very pretty and acts like he doesn't know. Maybe he doesn't, maybe he's unaware of how much, but I don't blame you for being drawn to him like earth to the sun...
But I also highly advise against...erm. Smooching him. Because that could perhaps frighten him. After all, dear Egie is not Elon.
But, for now I do believe you should sit down for a while. Here, have some water, and don't look around or move too quickly, dear.
(@raystxntz)
#Poor thing I don't want him to get hurt#Egon wouldn't forgive me#And I owe it to him. And myself. And Ray.#parody#rp blog#asks open#ghostbusters rp#🌳🌱
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4am time to ramble about killian
first and foremost-- *grabs sylvia. picks her up. puts killian in her place with travis*
I'll work out a legitimate backstory later but killian was working with sylvia and henry from the first game on until the second. they were friends (or killian assumed they were friends) but sylvia really just needed an extra set of hands to do "paperwork". through the work with sylvia is how they met travis
anyways this whole time sylvia drones on and on about how travis is an excellent assassin and throughout the first game killian gets to know travis but they're not super important to the story at this point, they just kind of watch from the sidelines and maybe you see them once or twice with sylvia in cutscenes
they're a "glorified secretary" and they do like their "job", they meet interesting people, but it's such a hassle--
killian eventually became an assassin at some point as well, but it was mainly to keep people in line and take out the REALLY bad ones. they didn't necessarily like the killing at first but it was something they ended up really kind of being good at
is it cheating to thin out the herd?? maybe. but sylvia doesn't care
the whole time they cannot stop thinking about travis. maybe it's because sylvia and the other assassins won't shut up about him but also them having seen him a couple of times personally they end up developing this major crush on him that no one knows
so when sylvia is like "lol wouldn't it be fun to get travis back in the game" killian is kind of like "uhhhh. boss. didn't we almost get caught last time. why are we doing this" and sylvia is like "no no you misunderstand - we are Going to get him back into this"
then they meet travis again for the first time in three years and the first thing they do is fight him!! respectfully. none of that kimmy shit, nay nay. it's because they a) would like to stack up their abilities against his and b) sylvia wants them to prove themself and c) DEAL WITH CRUSH AS VIOLENTLY AS POSSIBLE
its a whole thing where they step out in their professional outfit with heels and a nice suit (I'm going to design it just for this because if sylvia can have five costume changes so can I) and travis is STARING and they spin their scissor blades and everything is cool and sexy until--
cue the extra-hard tripping over themself because "travis. it's travis. he's here. oh god I'm gay. please make it stop". meanwhile sylvia is like highkey flirting with him the whoooole time. and killian is like "I do not see it I do not see it do not perceive me"
eventually sylvia be like "you like travis don't you squidward" and holds it over killian's head
meanwhile all travis knows is that there's this weird emo thembo who keeps avoiding him and they won't talk to him but he thinks they're cute (among other things)
so they do go to travis's apartment on behalf of sylvia and this normally stone cold assassin secretary who doesnt say anything sees jeane the cat and sits down and just fuckin sobs and coos over her
travis, who has heard them say maybe five words, is Officially enamored.
"oh now I have to woo them"
he starts flirting with them more than he does with sylvia and this catches killian off guard and they're "??!!??!!"
killian.exe stops functioning and they leave before they like. I dunno. pass out from embarrassment
but it's too late sylvia knows about the crush and now it is operation "throw killian into situations where they could possibly fight travis so that either something happens between them or they die. either way works"
travis is just doin his best trying to fight his way to the top but he keeps seeing killian everywhere and flirts. every. single. time. and if he flirts well enough they flee but if he says something mean then they fight him. spinny scissor blade time.
eventually they stop by his apartment again (probably around the same time that travis has saved henry and is keeping him there) and they just. they deliver a love letter okay. it's a funny trope but this time it doesn't involve travis almost being killed by some creepy schoolgirl it is a genuine confession and tbh he does not know how to respond but that's ok because killian fuckin RAN WHILE HE WAS DISTRACTED
he does not see them for a few days and probably eventually has to fight another assassin who has them kidnapped but because travis spent too long to get there he shows up as killian frees themself and there Is no fight
after that is when travis is like “I AM DETERMINED” even though killian now sends him a gift every day in an attempt to woo him as well
idk what else to say i got nervous about typing all of this up,,
maybe next i’ll actually talk about killian and travis because theyre cute i prOMISE
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If You Cross Her, Then You Cross Me: Werewolf! Shawn x Black Reader
a/n: Hi this is the third part of the In My Blood Series. It could probably be read independent, but its a lot cuter if you read all of them tbh. I just wanted to take the common trope of guy defends girl and make it a little less trash. So I hope I did that. Let me know what you think!
Warnings: Assault/harassment, a little smutty smut.
The first time you seen Shawn get angry is an odd experience. Mostly because it comes out of nowhere, and also because it’s not directed at you and yet you feel it deep in your gut. The pack had been running drills more often than usual lately as a result of a new scent that had been picked up that no one recognized. Shawn was a little tense trying to measure whether the scent was a threat or not, so he’d been asking a lot more of everyone. Even you.
“Baby, I need you to let me or one of the guy’s pick you up from work for the next few days.” He broached hesitantly as you were getting ready for bed one night.
And for good reason.
“Excuse me? I don’t need a protector Shawn, I’m a grown ass woman.” You snorted.
Your latest hairstyle was a plethora of braids that fell all the way down to your waist and were a bitch to put up at night. Shawn appeared behind you and reached for the scarf in your hands to tie it more perfectly stable for you.
“You are a grown ass woman. This is much more for my sanity than yours. I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you.” He murmured playing gently with one of your braids.
He was pointing those dumb big brown eyes at you and looking all downtrodden and sad. It was so annoying how easily it worked on you.
You rolled your eyes. “Why does it have to be one of the guys. Why can’t one of the women come get me?”
“Because they’ll be busy running patrol. I’m not dumb Luna and Jasmine are more ruthless than any of the guys could be. It will probably be me most of the time, as long as I can get away from the shop and make sure things are alright. Please, babe. Humor me?”
You heaved a sigh that was as dramatic as it was loud before letting your head rest back on his chest.
“On one condition.”
He whined, the alpha in him simultaneously displeased at not being immediately obeyed while also itching to serve.
“This weekend I get you all to myself.” You murmured.
His arms wormed around you from behind and he peered at you in the full length mirror.
“Honey…”
“Don’t honey me. Ever since y’all sniffed something in the wind you’ve been out all hours of the night. You’re grouchy and tense all the time. We never just get to lay in bed and relax. I miss you.” You admitted softly.
“I miss you too.” He cooed squeezing at your hips. “But I’m the leader of the pack. I have to make sure everyone is safe.”
You peer up at him with a look that must state you’re not very happy. You can’t help it. You miss the feel of his curls tickling your face when he cuddles into your body. Miss the warmth and the fullness that his love brings to your tummy. You just miss him, and you want him. Is that so bad?
“I’ll do my best, okay? As long as nothing dire is happening, you can have me. I’m yours.”
You smirked softly and turned in his arms to wraps yours around his neck.
“Damn skippy you are. Come here already.”
His lips find yours and you squeal as he pulls your legs up around his waist heading straight for the bed. There is no feeling like the feeling of his hips pushing down against yours. His palms warm and firm on your thighs as his tongue works like heaven in your mouth. He makes you feel like you’re floating, like you are the most important thing in the world and he does it with incredible ease. This is exactly what you were missing.
“Can I?” He whispers all sultriness and lust.
His hands had found their way to cup your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. Shawn was obsessed with most parts of your body, but his fascination with your boobs was in a league of its own. You were helpless to pretend that it didn’t get you going. That the adoration and heat in his eyes didn’t make you feel sexy and wanted. So when his fingers reach for your tanktop you’re more than willing to indulge him.
“Yea.”
He tugged your straps down over your shoulders and pressed kisses to the top of your chest. Your nipples pearled in the cold air and his tongue was immediately there to trace the sensitive skin. Your back arched involuntarily.
You moaned. “Shawn.”
Everything is perfect. His hips nestled between your thighs. The weight of his body keeping you anchored as he does everything in his power to make you squirm. And boy do you squirm.
“Mine.” He grunted, teeth grazing your flesh.
Jesus.
A knock on the door disrupts everything.
“Not now!” Shawn huffed still in your arms.
“Yea uh...trust me when I say I would love to not disturb what’s going on in there! But uh we just got back from patrol and we need to talk.”
That damn super wolf hearing was really beginning to be a nuisance.
“We have got to start staying at my place.” You huffed as he left you like a dead fish on the middle of the bed.
“You, don’t move. I will be right back. We are going to finish. I swear.”
You rolled your eyes letting your hands come up to cover your chest as your legs plopped out on the bed.
“Don’t mind me. I’ll just be here fondling my own titties. No worries!”
Shawn pulled the door open to Brian stumbling back to get out of the way. You only have to hear his voice to know his eyes are doing the darkening alpha thing that you might just think was hot if he wasn’t abandoning you mid nipple sucking.
“This better be good.” He gruffed pulling the door shut to leave you alone.
You peered aimlessly up at the ceiling before speaking to literally no one but yourself.
“This was my momma ain’t want me to date a white man. I just know it.”
***
It had been a busy day. Your assistant accidentally double booked you resulting in nonstop appointments all through your lunch hour. When you texted Shawn that you wouldn’t be able to make your usual lunch date at the diner because of it he had sent you a couple dozen heart and kissy face emojis with promises of making something special for dinner. It was sweet, even if it didn’t necessarily curb your hunger in anyway.
You pulled your gloves off and washed your hands after sending Ms. May, one of the older women in town, home with a decongestant.
“Ashley I’m gonna take a break until my 3:30. I’ll be in my office if you need me!”
You pulled your door open only to find your boyfriend with his obnoxiously perfect ass perched on the edge of your desk.
“Surprise?” He grinned.
You smiled tiredly and practically collapsed in his arms.
“What are you doin’ here?” You hummed as he kissed you hello.
“I couldn’t let my baby starve. I brought you lunch.”
“Boy, don’t you know you supposed to lead with that?! I’m sitting here kissing you and there’s some perfectly good food for me to eat?”
He made you a croissant breakfast sandwich at the coffee shop. It was kind of your favorite and he always made it with turkey bacon. You eat together and bask in each other’s company. It didn’t seem to matter how long you were together, you could always find something to talk about, could always find ways to make each other laugh. When he pulled you onto his lap and moved your braids out of the way to press kisses to your neck you turned to goo in his hands. He made you so unbelievably soft.
“I have another little surprise for you.” He hummed between kisses.
“It it one of your cinnamon apple muffins? You know how I feel about those.”
He chuckled. “Not quite, but I’ll make sure to bring one when I pick you up. I was thinking we could get out of town tonight. Go to the city. Maybe catch a movie?”
“I’m sorry? You actually don’t want to sit up all nice pacing and sniffing with your wolf senses while your beautiful girlfriend goes under appreciated?”
“Very funny.” He snorted rolling his eyes. “C’mon. I got Brian and Geoff to take care of things for the night. I just want to spend some time with you. What do you say?”
“You know damn well that’s all I want in the world. Of course I say yes.”
You spend the rest of your lunch break trying not to tip backwards in your spinny office chair while kissing each other senseless. His lips on your neck and jaw...the small spot behind your ear.
“I should get back to work. I need to prep myself on my next client.” You hummed.
You were sitting in his lap, arms and legs wrapped securely around him with zero care in the world to release him back into the world. Neither did he apparently.
“Mmmm, no.” He whined nipping at you jaw.
“Listen here big alpha, I have to be presentable. Can’t have you marking me up. We’ve got tonight for that.”
“What If I want to do it now?”
Honestly this man was beginning to be trouble.
“Ugh i hate you.” You groaned pulling his lips right back to yours.
“You wish.” He grunted hands reaching roughly to tug at your hips.
There’s another knock on the door just when you’re starting to get worked up all over again. Is was like the worst of dejavu in the world.
“Ma’am, your uh three-thirty is here?” Ashley called hesitantly.
You peered down at him where he was staring back at you with that cocky ass grin of his.
“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed de-straddling his waist.
You turn to find your jacket only for a sharp whack to come across your ass stilling you completely. You turn over to peer at him and you really can decide whether to hit his face or sit on it.
“Too much?”
You snorted. “Not enough. Don’t try slapping this ass until you know what to do with it.”
Shawn got up out of your chair and grabbed his car keys off your desk. He reached for the door handle to prop it open for you like a gentlemen or some shit.
“If there’s one thing we both know is that I most certainly know what to do with it. I’ll pick you up at five thirty.”
That man would surely be the death of you.
****
“Can we get popcorn?” You asked, arms wrapping tightly around his bicep.
“‘Course we can, honey.”
“And nachos?”
“Sure.”
Hmm.
“Annnnnnd a pretzel?”
He smiled at you and kissed your cheek and you damn near swooned.
“Order whatever you want baby. The night is ours.”
“Did you hear that?” You asked directly to the teenager running the food stand that had not a care in the world about your life. “My mans got money.”
“If only we all could be so lucky.” The angsty teen deadpanned.
“She’s a doctor by the way. I just own a coffee shop that people come to because there’s no starbucks in town.” Shawn snorted.
The teen was not very excited by your love. Rude.
“That is truly a harrowing tale. Would you like to order?”
Kids.
The movie was good. You spent your time between snacks and cuddling into Shawn’s side. You couldn’t believe how much you could miss someone , didn’t even know it was possible to feel as full and happy as you did when the two of you were together. And it helped that Shawn was relaxed too. The past few weeks he had paced the length of his room hundreds of times, tension just coming off of him in waves. And when he hadn’t been doing that he’d been running perimeter checks like a mad man. He oftentimes would do them at two or three in the morning, the times he’d never ask the rest of the pack to do. It meant that sometimes you woke up to him not being there, and it would be impossible for you to fall back to sleep until he came home. Hard times for the pack tended to translate to hard time for you. This is what happens when you date a werewolf ladies.
“Can we spend the night at my place?” You asked softly when the movie had ended and you were exiting the theater with his arm wrapped around you.
He frowned. “I don’t know about that, babe. I should really be at the house in case something happens.”
“Yes, but you’re just a call and a couple hop skips away from the house anyway. Maybe we could be together for a change without someone’s super sonic hearing getting in the way.”
“I told you they don’t listen.” He assured you for the umpeenth time.
“And I told you that I am too intelligent to be that naive.” You snorted. “Pleeeeease?”
Shawn might be a wolf but you had some puppy dog eyes of your own on deck. Turns out they were just as irresistible. Go you.
“Let me call and check in, okay? No promises!”
You beam at him and press a kiss to his cheek as he leads you outside. Outside the night air is the perfect temperature. Cool enough, but not cold. It’s not raining, so while Shawn talks boring business with Brian, you walk a few feet away from him just to look up at the sky. You teeter playfully in your heels and just sort of walk aimlessly around still within close proximity to the theater. The sky was so beautiful that you stumbled slightly and almost knocked into a group of guys heading straight for the entrance. One of them catches your arm and makes sure you’re up straight.
You giggled slightly. “My bad. I was just looking up at the sky and didn’t even see where I was going. I’m so sorry.”
“You’re alright, sugar. You okay?” He asked a look in his eyes that had your spidey senses tingling.
You nodded. “Yep. Thank you. Have a nice night.”
The crowd comes to a stop as the guy does and suddenly you’re faced with a group of six or seven men that immediately make you feel uncomfortable.
“What are you doing tonight, baby? Why don’t you come see the movie with us?” He asked hand still on your arm.
You don’t have your mace on you, because werewolf boyfriend tended to trump that nowadays.
“No thank you I’ve already seen my movie.” You smile slightly and tug at his grip.
“What you don’t like white guys or something? We no good for you, baby?”
Well that was just incredibly ironic. A part of you wanted to say, usually, yes, but even you didn’t love to tackle a big group of men in public. It’s maybe a forty-five second conversation, but it feels like hours, and surely any woman could relate. There’s this innate sense to shrink in on yourself, to take up less space, to be anything other than what you are. The survivalist in you is already looking at the space on either side of you that isn’t occupied by a man, tried to figure out how hard it might be to run away. His friends certainly aren’t going to stop him, and you had no clue just the lengths he would go through to make his point.
At first you don’t even see Shawn. The only thing you see is the flash of red from his buttoned up shirt as he steps in to easily break the hold on the guy’s hand. You don’t feel nearly as bad about the ease of it knowing the whole super-not exactly human strength thing. The relief when he’s there is immediate and infinite. Your stomach had dropped and your throat had thickened. But, with Shawn there you knew nothing would ever happen to you. He wouldn’t let it.
“Excuse me? I don’t think she wants to be touched by you.” Shawn spat. “So, why don’t you back the fuck up.”
“Aye man we were just talking! What are you her fucking bodyguard?”
“Doesn’t matter who I am, now does it? A piece of shit like you puts his hands on someone when they don’t want it, I’m the guy who asks you to move on before I kick your ass.”
Said piece of shit felt much more confident with his group of friends around. He stepped to Shawn with at least three inches of height difference and not nearly the muscle mass. And that’s before you got to the fact that he was kind of an alpha.
“Bro why don’t you get your own bitch and stop--”
Shawn’s eyes flashed red immediately. Bright red. And before you’re even aware of it, he lifts the guy off his feet by his throat and sends him flying into his friends. You’ve never seen anything like it. Shawn turns to you and hands you his car keys and he looks livid, he looks...not completely human.
“Baby go get in the car.” He murmured, jaw clenched.
The group of guys are all collectively shitting themselves though and Shawn looks like he might not let the guy leave on anything but a stretcher.
“Hey, c’mon. Let’s go. I don’t need you to defend my honor.” You murmured tugging on his arm. “Please?”
“No one is ever going to speak about you like that in front of me. Ever.”
He turned, hell bent on doing damage, when you grabbed at the back of his shirt to pull him back to you.
“Please! I wanna go home, okay? Now!” You yelled.
He peered at you, his nostrils flared and his eyes were still red. But, it was you. So, he took a deep breath and another before he turned calmly back to the guy. You watched him squat down where the guy was clutching at his neck and coughing, which seemed just a bit dramatic in your estimation.
“If I ever see you again? If you ever think a negative thought about her again? I will rip your throat out with my teeth? K? K.”
He patted him on the leg and then reached for your hand, finally going back to the safety of the car. You hand him the keys and Shawn starts to drive you home, the events previously leaving you quiet and in a daze. Shawn peers back and forth between you and the road. When his hand comes to rest on your leg, you flinch and it sends a look of hurt across his face.
“You’re afraid of me.” He mumbled, pulling his hand back.
Shawn’s worst fear in the world was you being afraid of him. He constantly tried to not get too worked up, to not appear angry, or anything too strictly on the wolf side of him. He never talked about it, but you had a feeling it had to do with the fact that you were human,and that he was terrified of hurting you. You also kind of thought he might still think there was something that could make you run away from him. It would take time to prove him wrong.
“No.” You assured him reaching to pull his warm palm between both of yours. “I swear I’m not. I’m just still a little spooked by the situation.”
“You promise?”
You pressed your lips to his fingers and brought his palm up to your face.
“I promise.”
He frowned over at you. “I’m so sorry. I was on the phone with Brian and I didn’t even notice. I should have been there sooner, and it never would have happened.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. You shouldn’t have to be with me every waking second so that a man shouldn’t feel the need to harass me. That’s on him. Not us.”
Shawn drives the rest of the way home. You couldn’t help but notice that when he arrived at the house he pulled into the driveway instead of parking on the street, a telltale sign that he was spending the night.
You peered over at him with wide eyes.
“You’re staying?”
He turned the key to the off position and leaned against the middle console to press his lips to yours.
“Of course, I am.”
There’s a bit of a routine that the two of you follow. Shawn brushes his teeth while you put your head scarf on to keep your braids tucked away. He tugs off his clothes and puts them in the hamper by the door, because you see each other so often now that clothes are bound to end up split between places. He uses your face wash because you both have combination skin and you were nothing if not willing to share. You crawl into the right side of the bed and he crawls into the left. It’s perfect.
When you reach to crawl into his lap like normal, hell bent on “you time” before bed though, he presses you softly to the sheets. He kisses you with delicate pressings of his lips, hands rubbing up and down your sides. He won’t even bite your lip tonight, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why.
“Nothing rough tonight, honey. Just want to worship you tonight. Wanna take care of you.” He hummed against your throat.
Who are you to tell him no?
His hands brush from your calves all the way up to your thighs and to your hips, propping them around him the way he wants. His lips are searching your body like he’s looking for any signs of damage, any reason to go back to that guy in the parking lot. But it’s also like he’s searching for something for him to heal.He’s so tender and slow that night that you think you took what making love could feel like for granted. There’s something special about the way that he kisses you as he moves within you, the way that he cradles your head in his palm, the way that he groans into your skin as if you could absorb the feeling of his own pleasure. It is just as intense as any time that he touches you, and yet it feels more potent somehow. More overwhelming.
“You’re so beautiful.” He huffed into your neck, hips spiraling out of control. “You feel incredible.”
Your arms are around his neck and he everytime he pulls out even the slightest amount your hips can’t help but cant up towards him. You need him right.
“Please. Please.” You whimpered.
“What do you want? Use your words baby girl.”
He tugged at your bottom lip with his thumb and you nibbled playfully at his digit before sucking it into your mouth. His hips falter and your thighs tighten in response.
“I want--want you to take me from behind. It’s always deeper that way.”
He groaned softly and kissed you till you were breathless, till your head was practically spinning and all you could think about was the taste of him.
“Only if you look back at me while I do it. Need to see these pretty eyes of yours” He hummed.
“Ok, ok. Just do it, please.”
He flips you so fast you’re left breathless, back arching and ass presented to him clear like a present. He rubs himself against you and taps incessantly at your clit with his dick. You almost cry. And then he’s pushing into you and it just goes exactly where you need it to, to the point where you’re moaning, high pitched and breathy into the air.
His hands tense on your waist.
“Jesus Christ the sounds you make.” He grunted. “Baby, I’m trying to take it slow tonight.”
You whined softly into your sheets peering back at him innocently. “Can’t help it. Just want you in me.”
His hands followed the curve of your body, gripping and squeezing you in all the right ways. He took a deep breath and pressed his body against yours. Your fingers intertwined and his hips nestled against you as he filled you up beautifully. You could feel his large, unnecessarily muscular thighs bracketing either side of your ass and his lips on your neck as he pushed into you so deep your toes curled. His hands came up to grip your boobs, fingers soft and warm. It felt so good you couldn’t stand it.
“Oh my god! Baby!”
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He hummed sucking a mark into your neck. “God, I love you.”
His hips piston in and out in rugged overwhelming lunges. He’s brushing against that part in you that makes your back arch, makes it feel like you can’t even breathe because it feels so good. You reach for his wrist just to stabilize yourself, but none of it matters when he’s hitting it like this. It’s love and it’s romantic and it’s beautiful but it’s still the greatest sex you’ve ever had. So when your leg starts to shake and his fingers are pulling your hips against him so good, you can only try not to shatter across the entire room as your orgasm takes you. And something magical happens when he bites into your shoulder and reaches his own high at the same time. It’s ecstasy. Pure fucking magic.
“Roll over baby please?” He whines when you both have the ability to breathe again.
You let him maneuver you onto your back. Even try not to throw a fit when he has to pitch the condom. And then he’s back. Wrapping your bodies in the blankets and nestling into you so soft and warm. His fingers cup your jaw, his eyes pore into you, and your stomach just fucking flutters away like the first time. Like it’s always the first time.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on.” He whispered. “Making love to you is like the greatest pleasure I’ve ever known.”
You bit your lip and snuggled closer just to kiss him, just so you could hide your face for a few seconds from how overwhelmed he seemed to be able to make you feel. His arms wrapped around you have never made you feel safer, more protected, more loved.
“I love you.” You sighed. “No one could make me feel the way that you do. I just...I’m glad I found you.”
He hummed.
“Me too sweetheart. Me too.”
#shawn mendes#Shawn mendes fic#Shawn mendes fanfic#Shawn mendes fanfiction#shawn mendes smut#Shawn mendes fluff#Shawn mendes angst#Shawn mendes au#werewolf!shawn#werewolf au#Shawn mendes x you#Shawn mendes x y/n#Shawn mendes x reader#Shawn mendes x black reader#Shawn mendes x black woman
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Step By Step
"Yo, Spinny! How's the kid doin'?"
Spinel chuckled breathlessly as she tried to lift the baby off her head, "He's doing great!"
At only a year old, Spinel was surprised how active he was, crawling around her like she was a jungle gym, while all at the same time constantly sleeping or nuzzling against her gem. She didn't know why, but Steven always chose that spot to press his face into. She didn't mind though, not one bit.
Amethyst laid on the floor on her stomach, her hands under her chin and legs swinging, "Is he being too wild for ya?"
"Of course not!" Spinel playfully retorted as Steven tugged on one of her pigtails. She ignored the slight pain, her hands curling around Steven's sides. "Come on, buddy."
Steven protested as she lifted him down, but stopped when she laid him on the floor, and she joined Amethyst by sitting on her stomach. Steven stood on all fours and tried to crawl towards her and Amethyst.
Spinel got an idea and sat up on her knees, her arms outstretched, "Come here, Stevie! Come to your best friend, Spinel!"
"You can do it, little guy!" Amethyst cheered.
Steven babbled a little and crawled to Spinel's lap. Spinel laughed and lifted Steven into the air, "You did it!" Amethyst whooped excitedly.
"Now," Spinel set Steven back down, a few feet away from their positions, "Try to stand up, Stevie."
Her purple friend gasped, "You're not gonna-!"
Spinel didn't turn her loving gaze, "Oh yeah, I'm gonna."
Steven did exactly the same thing; crawl. Spinel tried to think of something to encourage him to use his legs, but something lit up like a lightbulb. She placed Steven back towards the couch, but this time kept her arm long, holding it up over the baby like a swing.
"Here Stevie, grab onto it," She directed to her arm. Out of curiosity, Steven stood up, although wobbly grabbed her arm. Amethyst gasped dramatically.
Then Spinel gestured to herself, "Now try walking over to me."
As she slowly retracted her arm, Steven kept his hold tight and he took a few hesitant steps. He whimpered a bit, but Spinel spoke in a whisper, her tone encouraging and comforting. Amethyst too was cheering, albeit more quietly as she repeated, "Ste-ven! Ste-ven! Ste-ven!"
Soon enough, Steven stepped to Spinel and she retracted her arm so she could hug him, "You did it, baby! You walked!"
Amethyst laughed, "Aw yeah! Steve's the man!"
Steven didn't understand what he really did, but laughed as his two guardians cheered and laughed with him.
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Grind
Summary: Watching Niall on stage gets you feeling some type of way.
Requested: yup
POV: 1st
Warning(s): grinding but w/ clothes on
I hope you enjoy, love. I’m sorry it’s so short :(
Throughout the entire show, I couldn't get the naughty thoughts to stop swirling around in my head. Niall wasn't helping at all either. Him smirking at me, winking at me, and hip thrusting in my direction didn't do me any justice. It only made my panties damper.
As he began saying his thank yous and goodbyes to the crowd, I began walking backstage, waiting for him and his band to file back here. Soon enough, they all entered the room hooting and hollering, the high from the show still coursing through their veins. He laughed with them for a second before I caught his eye. He walked over to me with a huge grin on his face. He pressed a sweet kiss to my lips before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into him.
"You know what you do to me up there," I spoke softly, knowing there were people around.
"What do I do t' ya?" he smirked.
"All I can say is I'm soaked." I replied, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"Dat's da goal, right?" he teased wryly.
I let out a soft whimper and fell into his chest, resting my head on his damp with sweat tshirt. I was getting frustrated and was getting desperate for a release.
"C'mon, darlin'." he hummed.
He grabbed my hand and lead me down the hallway to his dressing room. Excited butterflies erupted in my stomach with each step that we took. We got to his room and he opened the door, letting me walk in first. I spit my gum out in the nearest trashcan while he closed the door behind him. I wrapped my arms around him and attached my lips to any inch of skin they could reach.
"Hang on, lover. Lemme lock da door." he chuckled softly, turning the lock on the door.
He turned back around to me and pulled me into him, attaching our lips. I ran my fingers through his sweaty hair, tugging gently at the damp strands. His hands trailed down to bum, squeezing it and kneading it in his hands. I hummed against his lips and deepened our kisses. His lips were soft like flower petals. His growing scruff tickled my skin and sent chills down my body. His tongue explored my mouth and the pressure in my abdomen tightened.
"Le's go t' da couch," he muttered.
He grabbed onto my hand and lead me to the medium-sized, black, leather couch. As he sat down in the middle of it, his fingertips still held onto mine, squeezing slightly, "C'mere." Letting go of his hand, I hiked up my jean skirt, allowing better access to straddle him. I placed my knees on either side of his thighs, getting comfortable on his lap. His bulge was up against my center and I could feel just how hard he was. Our tongues battled for dominance and our fingers were braided in each other's hair.
"Mm, we gotta be quick," I muttered against his soft lips.
My hips began to subtly grind against his; something that I do all the time to rile him up a little more, but the more pressure I added and the faster I went, the more I began to realize how good it truly feels. And Niall felt the same way.
"Ooh fuck, keep doin' dat," he muttered.
My hips ground deeply against his. His bulge rubbed up against my center perfectly with every grind. Dipping my head down, I buried it in his neck. I attached my lips to his neck, kissing and sucking on all of his sweet spots. Both of his hands were placed flat against my bottom, helping me steadily grind against him. We've never done anything like this. It was different and neither of us ever thought that something so simple could feel so damn good. I didn't know what brought this on, but once I started I couldn't stop.
He tugged on my shirt, untucking it from my jean skirt. He slipped his left hand up my shirt and cupped my breast over the fabric of my white, push-up bra. He began kneading it in his big palm, his lips attacking the sensitive skin on my neck. His throaty groans vibrated against my skin, sending chills down my spine. I was getting closer and closer to my orgasm and I knew he was on the same boat by how his grips got tighter and his moans got louder.
"Shh, people are gonna hear," I warned him and he lifted his head to look at me.
"Feels s' good though." he whined, his warm breath fanning across my face.
His eyebrows were furrowed together, sweat was beading at his temples, and his plump lips were parted. I squeezed a fistful of his wet locks, placing my forehead against his, my hips still moving at a rapid pace against his.
"I know, baby," I whispered softly.
He placed both hands back on my hips, his fingertips digging into my skin. I began to circle my hips, hearing his breath hitch in his throat. He bucked his hips up and squeezed his eyes shut. He buried his face back into the curve of my neck, his warm breath fanning across my skin with every heavy exhale he took. The only sounds filling the room was our panting, the subtle sound of the fabric of my panties rubbing against his dress pants, and the AC on in the background.
"Gonna make me cum in me pants," he whimpered before throwing his head back against the edge of the couch, "Fuck."
"Me too," I squeaked out, my breath hitching in my throat.
I continued to grind my hips against his, doing everything in my power to push both of us off the edge. Niall's grip around me tightened and his moans began to get louder. He pursed his lips shut, preventing any noise from escaping. He was trembling with pleasure as his orgasm took over his body. His release was the last push that I needed before pleasure overtook my body, sending me up to the clouds. My muscles tensed and my heart was beating out of my chest. My fingers gripped tightly on his shirt, my knuckles turning white. I wanted to scream out his name but I knew I couldn't so I hid my face in his clammy neck, muffling any small noises that escaped.
We both began to fall back down to reality, breathing heavily in our afterglow. My grip on his shirt loosened and I lifted my head up to look at him. His eyelids were droopy, heavy breaths escaping his swollen with kisses lips. I placed one lingering kiss to his lips before climbing off his lap. I laid my body across the couch, giving myself a breather.
"Jesus," he breathed out, running his fingers through his messy hair, "Did ya cum?"
I nodded, my chest rising up and down with every breath I took. He was so pretty in his aftermath. His skin is flushed and glowing. His hair is a giant mess and his eyelashes rest peacefully on his cheekbones.
"Fuck, I can't believe we jus' came like dat." he hummed, mostly to himself.
I watched as he stood up and walked over to the rack that held his clothes. He began to change out of his sweaty, stage clothes and into something more laid back and comfortable. Letting out a breath, I stood up and readjusted my clothes before walking over to the big mirror. I finger brushed my now tangly hair, making myself look presentable and not like I just had sex with my boyfriend. I sat down in the spinny chair that was placed in front of the mirror, watching Niall rummage through his things.
He walked towards me, standing in front of the mirror next to me. He began running his fingers through his hair and styling it a little bit before turning towards me. He stood in between my legs and cupped my face with his big palms. I smiled as he leaned down and pressed a passionate kiss to my pink lips.
"I promise I'll fuck ya fer real when we get t' da hotel." he grinned.
"Good." I teased, pressing one last kiss to his beautiful lips.
#My writing#Niall Horan#Niall#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan fanfic#niall horan one shot#oneshot#one shot#niall fanfiction#niall horan smut#niall smut#niall writing#niall writings#niall horan writing#niall horan oneshot#niall horan one shots#niall one shot#niall one shots#one direction fanfic#fanfiction#one direction fanfiction#one direction#one direction one shots#one direction fan fic#one direction writing#one direction smut#requests#niall request#one direction request
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i'm curious - what happened to customer service in your fanfic? did he die with nightmare?
I’m glad you asked, anon.
Cavius had been uneventful - but it was nice to chat with a few fellow rodents. Rick wouldn’t admit it publicly, but he enjoyed the company of the Squeak Squad. Secretly, he envied them - the life of a pirate sounded exciting, and yet... these guys hung on to every word as he told them about something funny he’d done last weekend.“So I turn to Kine, and say to him...” Rick began as they headed through a door. “Oi, this guy’s being a total fuckin’ drongo, right? And he says -”“INCOMING!” He glanced up to see that guy Nightmare was paling around with flying right towards them. Before anyone could react, he’d bowled them over - If Storo hadn’t remained standing he’d have gotten a perfect strike.“Oi, what are you doin’ here, cunt?” Rick watched the stranger flinch at his language. “Oh, don’t give me that, none of the kiddos are around!”“I was doing my job... but...” The guy rose to his stubby little feet and glanced behind him. Rick’s ears heard the grinding of rock, and Daroach pulled everyone back just in time to avoid a giant fist of stone.
“Listen, I don’t know what Nightmare’s payin’ you, but...” Daroach’s ear twitched as a massive stone something glared down at them. “It better be good if he sends you to deal with shit like this.”
The salesman sighed. “This wasn’t in my contract...” he muttered as he adjusted his glasses. “I don’t even get dental.”
“Oooh....” Spinni leaned down to stage whisper to Doc. “They don’t even get dental.”
“Well...” Daroach smirked, then blinked up into the air. “Why don’t you watch us professionals take care of Wham Bam Rock here?”
“Professional what?” spat the salesman. “Professional rats?”
“Um, actually...” Storo whispered in his surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m the only rat here...”
“Oh, whatever! I don’t intend to lose the power star to a bunch of rodents - ARRRGH!”
Doc had gone ahead and zapped the poor bastard. “Enough of these shenanigans! Everyone’s counting on us!”
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It was all Drake’s fault.
Of that, Damian had no doubt. How it was Drake’s fault remained to be seen, but it certainly was not Damian who gave away their location, causing them to be outnumbered and subdued. By a drug lord’s cronies, of all things.
Not even a big-named villain.
But drug dealers.
And now, Damian was kneeling on the ground, next to a mostly unconscious Red Robin, his hands tightly bound behind his back to his legs. No amount of pulling at the cuffs were helping them come loose, and it was maddening. He didn’t even have enough mobility to try to pull out the lock picks he kept hidden in his sleeve.
“Quit struggling, boy,” a new voice sneered from Damian’s left, “my men cemented the lock, it’s not coming off.”
Scowling, Robin hissed, “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”
“Shove it, kid,” one of the thugs said, just as his boot collided with Damian’s head.
Damian wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he next came to. He was laying on the ground and his left arm was asleep. So it’d probably been at least ten minutes.
And now, his head was on fire. No, it was worse than on fire, it felt like someone was stabbing him from inside. Like his brain was expanding and pushing against the skull, seconds away from exploding.
He knew he was being dramatic, of course. It was just a concussion, but he was allowed to be as dramatic as he wanted inside his own head. Especially when this was all Drake’s fault.
Once they got out of there, Drake was dead.
“There we go,” a gruff voice said from about six feet in front of Damian.
Robin didn’t want to alert his captors to his regained consciousness, not yet, so he kept his eyes shut. Besides, he just knew the lights in the warehouse were going to be a bitch on his headache. And he’d like to delay the inevitable as long as possible.
Then Drake groaned and mumbled out a pathetic, “wha’re you doin’,” and Damian could hear what sounded like someone being dragged across the floor. So he probably should open his eyes and check.
He needed to know what the idiots were doing with Red Robin. Father would not be very pleased if Damian let the moron die.
“Wha’ you jus’ do,” the teen mumbled from where he was now sitting on the opposite side of the room, and if Damian could see Drake’s eyes, he was sure he’d be blinking slowly and blearily.
“Just give it a minute,” one of the thugs sneered. There were five of them in the room, two standing at the doorway, two on either side of Red Robin, and the fifth standing in front of Red Robin with his back toward Damian.
That was a mistake on his part.
Or… it would be. If Damian could freaking move. He pulled at his restraints again, and used the momentum to get back up onto his knees.
“Looks like the little one’s awake, Boss,” one of the lackeys said, and Damian wanted to roll his eyes.
But he knew that would just make his head hurt worse, so instead he scoffed, “Tt, impressive deduction skills.”
“Don’t worry, little guy,” ‘Boss’ said, “you’ll get your turn next.”
“My turn with what?” he asked darkly, narrowing his eyes at Red Robin. What, exactly, were they doing to him?
At the moment, it appeared to be nothing. No one was even touching the imbecile, just standing around him.
“Our newest creation, of course,” Boss said happily, and Damian was having flashbacks to moments spent around Scarecrow or the Joker.
What was with loons in Gotham and their obsession with weird drugs?
“Oh,” Red Robin said dreamily, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “hehe. This’s good.”
“What did you do to him?” Robin demanded a bit more forcefully, “what did you give him?” Drake did not giggle. And he rarely smiled in such a… a… weird way. Light? No, Drake’s smiles were usually either kind or smug. Not carefree and happy.
“Hush, child,” Boss said, waving a hand at him.
Damian saw red and started thrashing against his restraints. They were all dead. All of them.
Not dead dead, of course, but dead.
“Ha,” Drake laughed, “you called him ‘child.’ He hates that.”
“Oh yeah?” Boss asked, “What does he prefer to be called?”
Drake snorted and lulled his head to the side. “He don’t like any nicknames.”
“Is that so?” Boss looked back at Damian and shot him a sly smile. “So what is his name?”
Damian narrowed his eyes at Red Robin. He had no idea what that drug was doing to him, but hopefully loosening his lips was not included. Because if it were… well then. Maybe they were all dead dead.
“Demon,” Drake said, grinning wide now.
“Fuck you, Red,” Robin growled, tugging at his asleep arm. He couldn’t really feel anything in it, anyway, might as well take advantage of that and force it free of the restraints.
“Tsk tsk,” Red Robin chided, “Batman wouldn’t approve of that language.”
That made the Boss raise an eyebrow, “And what about Batman?”
Red Robin shifted and turned a happy-go-lucky smile toward the Boss. “What about him?”
“Who is he?”
“Red, stop talking,” Damian hissed.
In response, the Boss nodded his head to one of the goons, who walked over and lifted Damian off the ground a bit by his hair. “Shut it, kid.”
“Hey,” Red Robin shouted, “Don’t be mean to my little brother. Only I get to be mean to him.”
Damian growled as he wiggled his way out of the man’s grasp. He was not little and they were not brothers! What the hell was that drug doing.
Luckily, all his hair stayed on his head when he finally won his freedom. That would have hurt like a bitch. As it was, the rough treatment was doing nothing for his headache.
Boss ignored Damian and asked, “So then tell me, who is Batman?”
Tim bounced his head back and forth and blurted out, “He’s my dad,” in an extremely chipper tone. Just the sound of it made Damian want to gag. He really hoped they didn't give him the drug, because he'd rather die than act the way Drake was behaving.
“Who is your dad?” Boss pressed.
Imitating Father’s gravel, Tim said, “Batman,” then fell to his side in a fit of laughter.
Yes. Die.
“Very amusing. What is Batman’s real name?”
“Batman's real name,” Red Robin repeated, looking over at Damian pleadingly.
“Yes, what is it?” the Boss asked patiently.
And Damian could tell Tim was actually really struggling to not speak. Obviously, whatever was going through his system had some sort of truth serum in it. Something to mess with his dialogue filter and force him to blurt the first thing that came to mind. That renewed Robin’s determination to break free. He knew his idiot of a colleague was pretty strong, but if he were at the point of struggling and begging Damian for help, there was no telling how much longer he’d last.
“Oh!” Red shouted, “Did you know that it’s possible to not have a middle name? And it’s actually really common in some parts of the world? How weird.”
The thugs exchanged a puzzled look with one another, and Damian used the distraction to his advantage. Clenching his jaw, he pulled his thumb inside his left fist and squeezed as tight as he could. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing the pain to seep out with his breath as the thumb snapped. Slipping his now broken left hand out from the cuffs silently, he looked around, forming his plan of attack.
“Okay,” Boss said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, “Can you tell us what your name is?”
“My name?” Red asked, cocking his head.
“Yes. Your name.”
Tim grinned and said, “It’s Red Robin! It’s like Robin, but red. Because I have a red uniform, see?”
The boss was growing impatient, just like Damian, and demanded, “What is your first name?”
At that, Damian sprang to his still bound feet and knocked the goon guarding him out with a well placed kick to the head. Using the guy’s head as a springboard, he vaulted his way across the room, making quick work of all the idiots.
He was sick of this stupid interrogation and it took less than a minute to incapacitate all five men.
And no, they were not dead dead. Damian did make sure, however, that each man would wake up with a headache just as bad as his.
Damian hopped over to where Drake was lying and dragged him up to his knees.
“Hop hop hop like a bunny,” Tim sang once he was sitting up, and it took a lot of self control for Damian not to just knock the moron back over and make him sit up on his own.
He looked around and found a chain cutter against the wall and cut the chain linking his feet together, then Tim’s chains so he could stand. “Get up, Red.”
“Those guys really like names,” Tim said as he took Damian’s offered hand and stood, “whoa the world is spinny.”
“Yes,” Damian drawled, keeping his not broken hand clasped around Tim’s forearm while he led them out of the warehouse. He managed to dig around in his belt for his back up comm with his left hand and called for Batman, giving the man a quick synopsis of Drake’s condition.
“ETA four minutes,” Father responded crisply. And wasn't that just perfect. Damian was going to have to withstand a lecture from Batman because of stupid Drake.
“I like names, too,” Drake continued, stumbling along behind Robin, “Your name is funny. We can call you James or Jamie. Wait. No. that’s not right.”
“Silence, Red,” Damian barked, looking around for good cover. He wanted to get them up a bit higher, but wasn’t sure how feasible that was. He felt extremely exposed and vulnerable on the ground with a broken hand and high Tim Drake. In the end, he decided to cross the street and slip into an alley where there were a couple dumpsters that should do a decent job concealing them.
Drake ambled along behind Damian, allowing him to pull him toward the alley. “Heh. Red. Red Robin. Red Hood. Redbird. Red X. We should be called the red-family.”
“Keep moving, Red,” Damian snapped, annoyed.
“Oh! We should call you Green Robin to add more colors to the family. Or Black Robin? Does that sound racist? It’s because of all the black on your uniform. Or Robin Hood!” Tim cut off his ramble to let out a high-pitched giggle, “because you wear a hood.”
Damian sighed audibly and let go of his idiot of a not-brother to lean back against the wall in the alley. His head wasn’t hurting as bad as it had been, but the weariness of the injury along with all the aches and pains his captivity had caused were catching up to him.
At least he wasn’t high as a kite like Drake, though.
“Then we’d all match. I’m Red Robin, Red Hood, and Robin Hood. We’d all share names.”
“Yes,” Damian drawled, pushing Drake a bit more out of sight, between the two dumpsters, because the moron was in no condition to fight, “very amusing.”
“B would never call us by the right name. Ever. It’d be so funny.”
“Tt.” Damian huffed, putting a hand up to his ear, “Batman, what is your location? Red requires medical attention.”
“Two minutes. How severe are his injuries?”
“Physically he is intact. Mentally, however, is another story,” Robin reported, giving the teen a sideways look.
Tim stumbled forward, and without thinking Damian lunged forward to catch him, draping one of Tim’s arms around his shoulders to help support him. “Would you quit moving?” he snapped, trying to push him back into the gap between the dumpsters.
Giggling again, Tim slumped further onto Damian and wrapped his other arm around. “You’re my annoying little baby brother.”
“Knock it off, Drake,” Damian growled lowly, trying to free himself from Tim’s grasp. Punching him while he was in that state would probably be incredibly rude and lecture-worthy.
But the teenager was insufferable.
And where the hell was this even coming from? They were not brothers. Tim was very clear on that on multiple occasions. And Damian agreed. They were not brothers. And yet Drake kept insisting on calling him 'little brother' tonight. It was infuriating.
Drake was just an imbecile that Father considered a son. Just like Grayson and Todd. Grayson was the only acceptable one of the lot, and therefore the only one he would consider a brother.
“I love you anyway,” Drake added, letting go of the child.
“Tt.” The faster Father got there, the better. He was so done with this annoyingly chipper and chatty Drake with all his stupid words and emotions.
And, as if the powers-that-be could read his thoughts, the Batmobile pulled up. As Nightwing stepped out of the Batmobile, Tim perked up. Damian would never admit he, too, was extremely pleased that Grayson had accompanied Father.
“And I love you, too,” Tim shouted, stumbling forward out of Damian’s grasp.
Nightwing cocked his head and looked over at Damian, “Whats wrong with him?”
“He's high.”
At that, Drake grinned wide and said, “I feel like I’m floating in the clouds.”
“Oh….” Grayson said, looking back and forth between the two younger vigilantes, then finished with a lame, “kay then.”
“Just take him back to the cave,” Damian growled as he shoved Drake toward his older brother, “he’s just getting worse and less coherent the longer this is in his system.”
“All of you,” Batman ordered, “get in.”
“I’m fine,” Damian insisted, “I can continue patrolling.”
Nightwing nodded as he gently guided Tim into the Batmobile. “I’ll stay with Robin. You can handle Red.”
“Little assassin baby needs a hug,” Drake sang, “his hand hurts.”
Betrayal. That’s what Damian felt. Utter betrayal. How did Drake even know that, anyway?
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Grayson said, turning his disappointed glare at Damian, “Let me see that hand.”
Damian grumbled a few curses and lifted his left hand for the man to inspect.
Dick whistled. “Damn. You’re coming back, too.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted, pulling his hand back to himself. He was fine. He’d fought with worse. Really, it was his head killing him, anyway. He barely even noticed the hand.
But there was no way he was telling them that.
“Nope, get in,” Dick said, dragging Damian along by his cape.
——
As it turned out, Damian did not have a concussion. Just a pretty nasty knot on his head. Father had not been pleased about him concealing a broken hand and a head injury, however, and Damian found himself grounded.
Drake’s fault. All of it.
But while the initial hour on the drugs had put Drake into a euphoric state, the last several sent him deep into horrible withdrawal symptoms. He spent the majority of the night expelling anything and everything put into his system, and at some point he even cried from whatever pain the drug was causing.
So Damian figured they were even. There was no need to kill him.
This time.
Thankfully, however, in Grayson’s words since Damian didn’t care, the drug did no lasting damage. Once it worked its way through Tim’s system, he was fine.
Not thankfully, though, part of Damian’s punishment was doing chores for Pennyworth. So when Tim was finally recovered enough to eat, Damian found himself forced to bring a bowl of soup and pack of crackers to Drake in his bedroom. Even though he had a freaking cast on his hand.
Smacking the tray down a bit too roughly, Damian snapped a half-hearted, “Pennyworth demanded I bring you this,” before turning on his heels to leave the room as quickly as possible.
“Thanks, Dames,” Tim rasped, sitting up some.
Damian scowled and turned back around, hoping his withering glare would make the teen cry. “My name is Damian, Drake.”
“And mine’s Tim,” he retorted, “Guess neither of us get our way.”
“Tt,” he pouted, crossing his arms across his chest petulantly. That was completely different. Drake could call him ‘Wayne’ and it’d be perfectly acceptable. Damian was simply using the teenager’s name. Drake, on the other hand, was purposely mincing his name, knowing it would upset him.
“Sorry about yesterday,” Drake said, swirling his spoon around in his bowl a bit, “it’s like my filter got turned off…”
Shifting on his feet a bit, Damian said, “Yes you said plenty of asinine things”
Still staring down at his soup, Tim added with a frown, “None of it wasn’t true”
Damian wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he averted his gaze off to the wall above Drake's desk.
And that's when he noticed the dozen of pictures pinned there. Damian had never actually noticed it before, because he never went into Tim’s room. He had dozens of pictures on the wall, all of candid pictures of the ‘family.’ And he was mildly surprised to find himself in a lot of the pictures.
Okay, a bit more the mildly. Why would he have pictures of Damian up above his desk? Where he spent a lot of his time?
Maybe...
Maybe Tim did see them as brothers.
Drake slurped a spoonful of his soup before continuing, “I can’t believe you broke your own thumb, though.”
“It’s not like you were in any condition to save us,” Damian snapped, pulling his attention away from the stupid pictures. Who cared whether the teen saw them as brothers. They weren’t.
“Thanks, Dami.”
“Whatever. Just don’t get us captured again," he spat, turning back around to exit his brother's room dramatically.
Because it was definitely Drake's fault.
Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown. org/works/16654726
#Damian Wayne#Tim Drake#Bruce Wayne#Dick Grayson#Alfred Pennyworth#Hurt/comfort#batbros#fanfiction#Tim and Damian being brothers#BECAUSE THEY LOVE EACH OTHER#but you know they can't tell anyone that#because they're too cool for that#cross posted on Ao3#a while ago actually
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