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sp0o0kylights · 2 months

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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset.

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it.

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud.

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds.

Still.

Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink.

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations.

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say.

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’

Nope.

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure.

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake.

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them.

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through.

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing.

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse.

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something.

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here.

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may.

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?”

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house.

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him.

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.”

Likely a lot of things.

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it.

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give.

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.”

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice.

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked.

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle.

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat.

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth.

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.)

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?”

Wayne nodded once, slow-like.

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again.

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?”

“I did.”

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say.

Wayne took advantage.

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.”

“‘Bout trust.”

Eddie blinked at that.

“Trust.” He echoed flatly.

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--”

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.”

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him.

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.”

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway.

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with.

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.”

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like.

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns.

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.”

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.”

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had.

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.”

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.”

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through.

Wayne sat with him as he processed.

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did.

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked;

“What if he finds out?”

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home.

It took Wayne a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret.

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over.

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly. It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself.

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved.

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’

“He won’t.” Wayne said.

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.”

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side.

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other.

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest.

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose.

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine.

Hurt, absolutely, but alive.

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body.

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol.

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door.

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch.

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible.

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup.

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him.

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely.

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior.

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.)

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!”

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it.

Wayne rolled his eyes.

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door.

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries.

“I think I promised you a game, son.” Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall.

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

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on-leatheredwings · 2 months

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Remedial Lesson (18+)

Yandere ! Dick Grayson x (AFAB) Reader

> romantic, 18+ > request: non-con for dick grayson? maybe him abusing his power as the titans leader to be a little flirty/touchy with reader before tricking them into letting him inside of their bedroom under false pretenses? > tw/cw: explicit non-con, baby trapping, yandere behaviors, abusive power dynamic > a/n: i just love writing a manipulative dick! And i love writing a manipulative Dick! (ba dum tss) emphasis on non-con in tw's, its not dubcon! > word count: 2545

Stupid, stupid.

At that thought, the logical, respectable half of your brain admonishes you.

You aren’t stupid. You just were unlucky, you correct softly. You’re plenty capable, and an asset to the team. It could’ve happened to anybody.

Recently, you’ve been trying to stop your self-deprecation, in an attempt to bolster your self-esteem, solidify your confidence, and quell negative self-talk.

… Therapist’s orders.

Being the ever-so-capable superhero you are, today you got blasted by some hypnotizing ray. And then promptly went on a murderous rampage on your teammates.

You don’t recall anything that happened, only waking up from what felt like a deep sleep to the outstretched hand of Nightwing. Koriand’r told you on the way back to the Tower that you almost killed him – making you stiffen in horror. You almost killed him, and apparently the only thing he had been worried about was you. At the thought, you feel heat swarm in your cheeks.

Despite not having any powers, Nightwing is plenty formidable. You were in complete awe of him today; the way he moves is so effortless, and he’s not even a metahuman.

You clench your fist with determination. You aren’t a metahuman either, but you pale in comparison to him. You want to be just as formidable as he is. Be just as deserving of the title “Titan.”

On the subject of Nightwing, your mind wanders… He had been quite… hands-on with you today. Shaking you by the shoulders, hand on your cheeks lightly slapping you awake. Encouraging you back to your feet, hand brushing your waist. When the battle was over, you nearly collapsed to your knees, spent. But he caught you, appearing from out of nowhere.

“Easy,” he had said into your ear, which made you shiver.

You sigh.

Okay. So maybe you had a crush. It wasn’t like you were going to do anything about it. He’s your boss – the Titans’ illustrious captain. He was simply helping you along, watching out for a teammate. Mentoring a new hero. After all, you are the Titans’ newest recruit, a post that months later still feels unreal.

You walk amongst them through the doors of the Tower, conversation and chatter flowing around you. You don’t join in, still ashamed from today’s blunder. How many of them had you tried to hurt? The team has just finished a mission, and it seems a pizza party is in order for tonight. You smile gingerly as Garfield announces vibrantly that you’re invited. (A no-brainer to anyone else since you literally live here, but to you, it means a lot.)

Your secret identity known to the team, you dismiss yourself to change out of your suit and into your civvies. “Hurry back soon,” they say, and the sentiment warms you. You indeed jog to your bedroom, eager to return to the festivities. You’re one of them. You’re really one of them.

You slip into your room, tossing the door back without a second glance. Your fingers pull on the bottom of your shirt. You’re about to peel off your suit, when you hear a shallow thud. That was not the sound your door makes once it's been closed.

You whip around, and see–

“Nightwing?”

Your leader stands in the doorway, foot acting as an impromptu door stopper. You take him in. His hair cascades in gentle dark waves, curling by the ears. If you didn’t know better, you’d think his suit was painted on. Despite being lightly armored and fortified, it stretches across his body like plastic wrap. You could trace every muscle under his skin– okay, relax. Christ.

Hey, you think back, mentally wagging a finger. No thought policing.

At the sound of your name being called, you realize you’ve been gawking like an idiot while he stands in your doorframe. You straighten.

“Oh! Y-yes!?”

“Can I come in?” he asks. You nod so fervently that your head is a blur of color.

Nightwing does so, the slightest amicable smile on his lips. Around friends and allies, it seems to be a default expression of his. Still, you’ve spent enough time around him to note that he looks quite… serious. Concerned.

“... Is there anything I can do for you?” you ask, eager to rectify whatever was upsetting him. You so want to impress him. Badly.

He holds up his hands, as if saying, At ease. “All you can do for me is let me know that you’re alright.”

You offer a pitiable smile, warmth swirling in your chest. “I am. Thanks for asking– and I’m so, so sorry about today–”

Nightwing waves you off, approaching you. He places a hand on your shoulder in consolation. “Hey, it could’ve–”

“--Happened to anyone,” you finish, nodding. You look down.

“... Although I admit…”

Your head snaps to attention. “Yes?”

Nightwing then sighs. His gaze falls to the floor. He tuts and shakes his head as if troubled. You swallow drily. So focused on him, you don’t even notice the circles his thumb kneads into your shoulder.

“Your performance today.” Your throat clenches. Nightwing’s gaze returns to you, hard and critical behind his mask. “Well, frankly, it left much to be desired.”

Your heart plummets, hitting the pit of your stomach. You’re mortified. You haven’t been meeting his standards? Did everyone else think that? Were their hopes misplaced? You feel the thrum of anxiety jitter underneath your skin as you bow your head. Your gaze now captures the two feet keeping you upright.

There’s a stroke to your cheek, to which you flinch.

“Hey.” Your head whips up. You look up at him, into white lenses that have the ghost of his eyes behind them. “It’s okay. I’m here to help.”

His face is gentle and consoling. You exhale. He’s just being honest, you think. He’s just being honest. Nothing wrong with some constructive criticism. You let him sit you down on the edge of your bed.

“H-how can I improve?” you ask, voice croaking. “I know I fucked up today. I should’ve seen it coming. I’m so, so sorry if I hurt you or anybody else–”

“Hey,” he says again, soft and delicately. “Listen, it’s alright. I’m going to teach you some things. How to resist better.”

You nod, slowly, anticipating some verbal advice.

You watch him with anticipation, giving him your full attention– and then, he kneels before you. You instinctively feel alarm at the increased proximity, before you swat it down. His head is level with your lower abdomen, uncomfortably close to your lap. You don’t have to make it weird, you scoff at yourself.

“... Y-yes?” you say.

“I’m going to take off your pants.”

You stare.

Did you hear him right? Was he… joking?

Clearly not. His hands land on your thighs, effectively drawing a sharp inhale from you. You both lock eyes. His face still holds the same vaguely amicable grin, but it’s now a leer. Your heart quickens. You don’t feel right.

“... Nightwing?” you ask, feeling suddenly quite small. You don’t know what’s happening. What’s going on?

“You need to be able to withstand a lot more than you currently can,” he continues, talking as casually as if you’re speaking about the weather. You are shell shocked, frozen into submission at the touch of his hands pulling your pants off. His nails scrape along your skin when he has to use more force to jerk it free from under your ass, to which you still don’t react.

What’s going on? your mind cycles on loop.

It’s when he pulls down your underwear you finally jolt, clumsily kicking at him. Which he catches of course. What a poor move, because your kick only enables him to spread your legs at his leisure. Heat rages to your cheeks. Though not entirely off, your panties do a pitiful job of concealing the tangle of hair nestled between your thighs. The mortification racing through your bloodstream makes you croak. It makes you keep throwing kicks and swats and punches until Nightwing is forced to sandwich your body against your bed. He pins your hands down to the bed, and you know by now it’s a lost cause.

“Help–” you begin, but Nightwing adeptly slips your wrists into one hand, and uses the other to silence you. He smiles bashfully, as if he hadn’t just stripped you without consent or fanfare.

“This is all for you–” At the furrow of your brow, he says, indignantly, “I’m serious! How easy was it for that guy to hypnotize you today?” The question throws a knife into your heart. “Or when last week you were apprehended? Or the week before that?” Each instance makes the burning building in your eyes more and more unbearable. He isn't wrong. Your tears build. He’s not wrong.

Nightwing slowly removes his hand off your mouth, anticipating another yell. You squirm, but don’t make a sound aside from shuddering breaths.

His grin loses all its flirty qualities. It widens, self-satisfied and predatory. With his teeth he peels off his free hand’s glove, slides it down your torso to the apex between your thighs.

“No,” you whimper, to which he hushes you, lips by the shell of your ear for the second time today. His fingers explore without warning, tracing your labia and brushing against your clit. You gasp, but you don’t scream.

Nightwing tuts, shaking his head. “You’re already wet, I see.”

You tremble, filled with humiliation. “No, I’m not.” One digit delves deeper, experimentally. You grit your teeth.

“You want this,” he says, and you fill with dread at the condescension of his tone. Like this was expected. Like you had so much to learn.

“No, I don’t.”

“But you do. You’re telling me you do.” His fingers – the pair that when gloved, there would’ve been two cobalt blue stripes – scissor inside you, and your breath hitches. “Your body’s telling me you do.”

“I-it’s a biological response.” At the feeling of his fingers swimming inside you, you whimper. This is insane. It can’t be happening. Yet you jerk and twitch with each of his motions. “P-please, I would… Please stop, now…” He doesn’t, pumping his sinful fingers into you. Teases you by dragging them out.

You throw your head back, biting your lip. He’s panting into your ear – you’d think you were doing something to him, the way he sounds. Your overhead light beams into your gaze, dizzying. It burns, so you close your eyes, hoping this is some humiliating dream. This can’t be real. This can’t be real.

“So you say– Hey.” He nips at your ear and you stir. “Look at me. Look at me.” You do so, and find him staring up at you. His mask is not enough of a barrier. Even if you can’t see them, you know his eyes are scraping over you, peeling your skin back, seeing you whole. Your embarrassment, your weakness, your shame.

“Please stop,” you whisper, eyes stinging. Your thighs tremble, to which he places his free hand on them to steady them. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this. You’re teammates. He’s your captain.

Nightwing sighs, looking disappointed. Oh no, your mind spirals. He’s disappointed in you. Despite you being desperately uncomfortable– violated– he’s at fault– he’s the one doing something wrong–

Despite your logical brain asserting itself, you are flooded with a tidal wave of anxiety.

“That’s not good, you know,” he says, and he looks mournful. “Whining is just what they want to hear.” His fingers disappear from your body, and their absence leaves you in shock. Wanting.

Wanting? Do I want this? you think.

Nightwing is reaching behind his neck, tugging and pulling. Before you know it, he’s bare-chested. You don’t marvel at his body, like you would have just an hour before.

“Bad guys aren’t going to listen to you just because you beg.” A tear slips down your face. You swipe at it, but not quick enough for him to miss it. “And they won’t care if you cry… Maybe you don’t need to learn how to resist. You’re not cut out for it, I think,” he tsks. “Maybe, you need to learn how to endure.”

You feel something blunt and wet prod at your entrance, and that’s when the last remains of your primal fight-or-flight instincts kick in. You start to squirm, back arching off the bed. “Please, please, please– no– stop– I don’t want this–” His hand clamps down on your mouth once more, and hard. You push him with all your might, but it’s not enough. You aren’t strong enough.

“Just the tip,” he whispers in the shell of your ear. Just the tip. You can handle at least that. Just the tip.

He repeats it for himself, not you. This you realize as he enters anyway, despite your teary complaints. It is not just the tip; he bottoms out. “You can handle this. I know you can.”

You’re so confused. You’re so, so confused. You merely clench your eyes shut, nodding at his encouragement. You don’t know what else to do.

“I know, I know,” he comforts. “Don’t worry, you’re taking it really well. You take it perfect.” You cling onto his words of reassurance, no matter how twisted it feels. It’s the only anchor you’ve got. Each thrust makes you see stars behind your eyelids, bed rocking. The ding of your bed frame hitting the wall is enough to make you finally quiet. The last thing you want is for the others to hear. To walk in and see you utterly helpless. Powerless. Incapable.

You swallow your sobs, but let the tears stream freely.

“It’d be better if I just got you pregnant right now.”

You feel a cold knife of fear pierce your chest. He can’t. He can’t. You wouldn’t be able to be a hero anymore.

“You’d be better suited for it,” he hums. You can tell he’s near, his hips snapping more frenetically, his words cut off with his own moans. You’re ashamed to admit moans of your own may have slipped out. You don’t even bother resisting at this point, hoping that if not your strength, then your body can satisfy him. Hoping at least that your body will meet his standards.

“Fuck,” you hear, and not a moment later you feel him shoot ropes of cum into your cunt. You can feel both his cock that throbs with each spray and the warmth spreading into you. You don’t know why you’re shocked at the sensation – it wasn’t as if he seemed keen on using a condom. Nightwing’s hands release you, having gripped you so hard you’re sure you’ve bruised.

He dots sweet kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your cheek. It should be all very sweet, but you can't ignore the poison of the circumstance. “You did so good, you did perfect,” are amongst the accolades he whispers into your clammy skin. You nod weakly, letting him kiss your tears away.

Nightwing dives in for a kiss, desperate to take even more than you’ve already given him. You return it, heart palpitating. You bat away the negative thoughts that threaten to swarm your mind whole. No more negative self-talk, after all. No self-deprecation. It’s okay. You took it well. You endured, like he said.

You did perfect.

#yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #mine #tw baby trapping #tw noncon

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verstappen-cult · 3 months

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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 04. THE CLIFFHANGER

PREV. PART | NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing and a tiny bit of angst because why not.

TWITTER — JUL 11 & 12, 2023

INSTAGRAM POST — JUL 15, 2023

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paddockgossip We have some interesting news about Charles and Y/N relationship! They both were at an event last night, but with two different people and (thanks to our insider!) we know that they didn’t talked or crossed paths, they didn’t even looked at each other! Do we know why? Maybe it was Charles’ plus one, who is, if you’ve been following their relationship, the same girl Charles was seen with back in Austria.

Trouble in paradise? We all saw the pictures of Y/N and her ex-boyfriend Andrew Garfield out and about in London just a few days ago. And now we only have this mess which seems to be following both Charles and Y/N everywhere they go.

Is this the end of a relationship that had only just begun?

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user98 i don’t think they’re together anymore. it didn’t look serious from the beginning

user99 Charles deserves better. This girl was on a date with her ex boyfriend a few days ago, I wouldn’t forgive that so easily.

user01 okay but you don’t know what happens behind closed doors user99 I’m just saying what Charles should do. user02 but you’re not charles leclerc, are you?

user03 i’m a child of divorce

user04 I haven’t even got them over my parents divorce and now this happens

user05 They both are being sooo childish

user06 i prefer him dating his friend than this girl

user07 what friend? user06 the one he was with in Austria, i think she’s an influencer, i’m not sure user08 y/n is WAY better user09 Maybe Charles is the problem. Let’s not do this awful thing between women like you always do when shit happens

user10 I hate gossip pages so much.

user11 NOOO I loved them together 😭

user12 that was such a power couple

Y/N’S iMESSAGE — JUL 15, 2023

INSTAGRAM STORIES — JUL 17, 2023

INSTAGRAM POST

📍 PARIS, FRANCE — JUL 25, 2023

Liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 892,556 others

charles_leclerc A little escapade before flying to Belgium. I haven’t slept in two days, can you see?

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user13 someone teach him how to dress

user14 y/n was doing a good job user13 but then they broke up user15 THEY WHAT

user16 hold on ☝�� he’s in france??? in a fashion show?? as in y/n’s walking that fashion show fashion show??

user17 I WAS THINKING THE SAME THING user18 I think you’re onto something

user19 why is he wearing that to a FASHION show

user20 is it true he’s dating an italian influencer?

user21 Charles is dating @/yourusername user22 no they broke up user23 we don’t know that

user24 Y/N’S IN THE LIKES

user25 WAR IS OVER OH MY GOOOD JSHDVDHAJAA

user26 i’m in denial until someone confirms y/n and charles broke up

user27 you and me both user28 charles is attending the same fashion show she’s in. look at her stories!!

📍 PARIS, FRANCE — JUL 25, 2023

Liked by jennaortega, florencepugh and 77,480 others

voguemagazine Say hello to our @/yourusername opening this week’s #FashionShow in Paris.

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📍 PARIS, FRANCE — JUL 25, 2023

Liked by f1gossip_news, y/nnews, and 135,765 others

paddockgossip Alert, Alert! Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, Y/N L/N, spotted leaving the Fashion Show Y/N walked in just a few hours ago. They’re currently in Paris, a quick ‘escapade’ as the Monégasque called it before flying all the way to Belgium for the final race before the Summer Break.

Remember that just ten days ago we were telling you how we thought things weren’t good between them and were waiting for a breakup confirmation. We were wrong! Let’s hope things are okay and we can see more of Y/N paddock’s fashion in the future. All the best for them.

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user29 oh god no please

user30 I thought we already got rid of her

user31 i don’t like her, she doesn’t seem nice

user32 Mmh this kinda looks like PR

user33 i thought the same but idk in the pics pop crave shared they look v cozy

user34 some people feel too comfortable judging y/n just because it’s charles.

user35 like grow up girl you’re never gonna date him lol

user36 this comment section didn’t pass the vibe check

user37 charles always dates toxic people

user38 i doesn’t seem serious to me

user39 matching glasses, such a power couple

user40 i don’t like her but they look good together

user41 i hate her sm she’s everywhere 🤢

user42 if you don’t know her just search what happened between her and sebastian stan

user43 there’s a pretty long ass thread on twitter with timelines and all y’all should check it out user44 that relationship was so toxic i’m glad my boy found his way out of there user45 she has said in a lot of interviews that she regrets everything that happened between them and that they’re on good terms now user46 besides they both were so young user45 they blame her when he was the one who cheated on her a hundred times

user47 she’s ben through a lot of toxic relationships i hope this one is different

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TWITTER — JUL 25, 2023

TAGLIST (bold means i couldn’t tag you) — @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @1655clean. @sassyheroneckgiant. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen. @littlehoneyfreak. @paintedbypoetry. @miakat9. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @thatoneembarrasingmoment. @lyrasconstellation. @rhythmstars. @c-losur3. @apolloxxivmin. @janeholt3. @lovrsm. @gulphulp. @thecubanator2. @dark-night-sky-99. @ssprayberrythings.

note: oh my god!! hiii <3 sorry for not posting sooner but a few things happened and… well. there’s just only one chapter left! i can’t believe this is ending. like you don’t know that i had such a good time doing this smau. i’ll probably write an extra part, like a blurb or something about the conversation y/n and charles had if that’s something you’d like to read?! please let me know (it would be posted after the final chapter). 🤍

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #charles leclerc smau #f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc angst

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luveline · 10 months

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what about a grumpy!reader / Eddie + roan. Reader is trying so hard not to let work things get to her but she ends up being a bit grumpy at home, that's when Eddie and our favorite girl Roan intervene.

Maybe. Just a thought. I just love them (and you) so much ❤️

thank you!! i love you <3 eddie and roan —your small family tries to cheer you up after a bad day. fem!reader, 1.4k

"It's a new one called the macarena," Eddie says, his hands around Roan's wrists guiding her arms into the right positions. "Macarena by maca-Roanie."

She's dancing on his thighs. You have no idea how he can cope with it. While Roan isn't a heavy girl, whenever she does it to you it makes you squirm.

Eddie hums the song and poses Roan's arms, across her abdomen and then hands on her hips. "Hey, maca-Roanie," he sings, making her shake her hips in time with the song, bodily turning her to the left.

She giggles at the suddenness of it, and her eyes light up with happiness when she sees you're back from the bathroom.

"Dance with us!" she pleads, laughing more as Eddie messes up the move and quickly corrects her arms.

"Maybe in a minute," you say, as gently as you can manage despite your foul mood. Neither of them deserve to feel shitty just because you do.

"Now," she whines, her foot slipping off of Eddie's thigh. She runs with the momentum to the end of the couch, her hands grabbing for you. "Please! Dad will sing the song again."

"Sorry, Ro," you say, giving her shoulder a quick rub.

You walk over to the TV to turn down the volume a touch before collapsing with a puff into the fat armchair. Relief courses through you as you shield your eyes from the light.

"Is she okay?" Roan whispers.

Eddie must pull her or yank her toward him, if her little yelp and subsequent laughter is anything to go off of. "She's okay, mini me. Today's been really long, that's all."

"It feels as long as yesterday."

"That's the problem. Come on, let's go make a cup of hot cocoa, okay? I'll show you how to do the dance again."

You're glad that they leave, though that soon melds to a bone deep guilt, kind to make you wanna get up and put on a smile and learn Eddie's new dance. You try to force yourself up.

You sink deeper into the armchair.

"Can I give her a hug?" Roan asks in the kitchen. She must think you can't hear her far away.

"I'm sure she'd love that, but let's give her ten minutes, okay?"

"Is she mad with me?"

"No," Eddie says fondly. "She's definitely not mad at you. Just tired, babe."

"Will you toast my marshmalloweds with the flamethrower?"

"Blowtorch," he corrects. You hear a drawer opening, a click, and Roan's impressed Woah.

I'm such a fucking dick, you think, curling into a ball. My poor loves.

You sizzle in your bad mood, folding in on yourself as tightly as you can. They don't deserve to feel the cloud hanging over your head. Hopefully it'll blow over soon, and luckily they don't seem to mind. Eddie knows better than to think how you feel has something to do with him, or Ro, or that you'd ever take it out on them.

You don't want work to make them feel shitty too.

The kettle whines on the stove. You used to make cocoa in the microwave until Eddie found out about superheated water and said it was too dangerous. You can see him in your head pouring the hot water into their matching mugs, Garfield and Odie, Roan's very favourites donated from the Great Munson Mug Collection when she was a baby. Your heart hurts thinking about it 'cos usually you're standing there at the counter listening to her tell you how much she loves Odie the puppy. Eddie used to cut the Garfield strips out of every newspaper and save them in a plastic binder for her until she slowly lost interest, but the love is still there. The plastic binder is proof, tucked up on your bookshelf next to your photo albums and Eddie's records.

"Sure you got it?"

"Yes, daddy, I have it. Thank you for asking me."

"Are you kidding? You're so welcome. Please don't burn your fingers."

"I have the handle. You're doing that thing Y/N says you do with over drotectivity."

"Over drotectivity, huh."

"You're worrying about things more than normal dads worry and it's gonna give you chives."

"Sweetheart." Eddie snorts, their footsteps approaching the living room. "It's called over protectiveness, and she thinks it gives me hives, not chives. Which it doesn't! I got hives one time and it was from that discount laundry detergent."

"When Y/N put ointment on your back and said you felt like a rattlesnake!"

You peek up from the depressed leather of the armchair your face is smushed in. Roan crosses the room with your favourite mug in her small hand, the weight of it straining her wrist. Cocoa sloshes over the side and a marshmallow rides the wave down onto the hardwood.

"Don't slip," you say softly.

"Won't slip," she says, grinning. Her smile is all Eddie like a master copy. "I made you cocoa in the best cup with just pink marshmalloweds 'cos the pink ones are for love."

"What are the white ones for?" you ask.

You take the mug from her before she can burn herself. Eddie presses down on her shoulder as he sits on the floor in front of your armchair, wielding two mugs in one hand precariously. He swoops Roan into his lap and smiles at you from over her neatly coiled curls. "White ones are for making you taller."

Roan points at her mug emphatically. "I got lots of white. I wanna sit in the front seat of the car."

"That's a good reason," you say, slouched but not entirely collapsed in your chair, wondering why they've sat themselves at your feet and already knowing the answer. "Thank you for cocoa, Roro. I'm sorry I didn't dance with you earlier."

Roan shrugs and leans back into Eddie's chest. He narrowly avoids scalding her, slurping a sip from the rim of his mug rather than have it pour down the side to splash her pyjama-clad shoulder.

"That's OK. I didn't want to play Wombats with you last night and you still hugged me after teeth."

She can be such a peculiar kid. Her vocabulary keeps growing in an explosion of mispronounciation and wrong definitions, as well as these unexpected shorthands; teeth means brushing her teeth. She'd brushed her teeth and dragged you to her room, imploring you to climb into bed with her for a half hour which you happily spent stroking her hair from her forehead and exchanging sleepy conversation.

"Honestly, I didn't even think about Wombats. I just wanted to spend time with you," you say.

Roan's little chin dips up and down as she nods, her hair bouncing against her cheeks. "Exactly! We don't have to dance. We can just sit down all night."

"I like sitting down," Eddie adds.

You lick your lips. They're too good for you, sometimes.

"Thank you, guys," you say, taking a sip of cocoa.

Roan preens. Eddie puts his cocoa on the floor and his hand on your arm, the gap between you feeling smaller and smaller by the second, your bad mood at a low simmer rather than the roaring boil it had been. The ring on his pinky finger is distinct as his loving hand keeps you company, smothering the heat.

They chat to one another and don't mind when you have nothing to say. All the sugar and love-flavoured marshmallows cheer you up some, enough to put down your empty mug and want a hug.

"Come here?" you ask, laying back to make room.

Roan makes a sound that can only be described as a rabid giggle and leaps onto the cushions. Eddie isn't far behind her, mugs forgotten and nearly kneed over as he encapsulates the two of you in his arms.

"I'll be less grumpy tomorrow," you promise bashfully.

"You're kinda cute when you're grumpy," Eddie says, indifferent. His smile curls against your shoulder. "Don't force it."

"I like happy you and sad you," Roan says.

You smile softly, tucking a silken curl of hair behind her ear. "I'm not sad," you promise, looking her in the eye and meaning every word, "I can't be sad for long with you and dad around."

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sidekick-hero · 5 months

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I didn’t know that it could be easy

When the wonderful @sentient-trash sent me this beautiful steddie art I knew I needed to write something for it. So why not fix the heartbreak I caused with this ficlet here? Thank you again, Simon, I love your art so much 💜💜

"It has to be perfect, Wayne. Do you hear me? Perfect."

Eddie knows he's overthinking this, obsessing over things that probably won't matter in the end, like the color of the tablecloth or whether the scented candles smell like cinnamon or vanilla. It's just...this is Steve and he needs this to be perfect because Steve deserves nothing less. Eddie almost screwed up this thing between them once, and he's been terrified of doing it again ever since.

It's a miracle and a half that they've made it this far. Their third Christmas as a couple, living together in their cozy apartment with their cat Garfield and their dog Bowie. That they made it to the point where Eddie has a ring hidden between his Dnd dice set, waiting to be placed on Steve's hand if he wants it.

God, what if he doesn't want it?

Because four years ago, Eddie had foolishly pined for Steve. Worst of all, he’d done so after pushing the other man away himself after a drunken night together early in their friendship slash roommateship. At the time, he'd thought his feelings had been one-sided, telling himself he'd done it so he wouldn't lose Steve completely. Eddie had never been the kind of guy you would choose to be with after a quick tumble in the sheets, so why would someone as sweet and funny and gorgeous as Steve?

As he discusses his plans for the evening with his uncle, so goddamn determined to make it the perfect Christmas for his boyfriend, he thinks back to their fight that had almost ended it all. Steve had been with someone else after Eddie had made it clear that their night together had been a drunken mistake and that he wanted them to be friends. Eddie had been dying inside, even as he tried to be happy for Steve. Things had come to a head when Eddie had come home and found Steve and his boyfriend Sam making out on the couch. He had reacted badly and Steve had followed Eddie to his room and confronted him about his behavior.

God, he can still see Steve's face, the tears forming in Steve's eyes as he told Eddie that he couldn't do it anymore, watching Eddie disappear before his eyes. Telling him that he fucking missed him. Steve's boyfriend had interrupted their fight before anything else could be said, and Eddie had left their apartment to wander aimlessly through the night.

"Don't forget the pecan pie, it's his favorite. And the banana ice cream. Yeah, I know I hate banana everything, but it's his guilty pleasure. I made some toffee and caramel beans to put in it and some chocolate topping and whipped cream to go with it, so - I don't know why you’re laughing at me, but I don't have time for this, he'll be back from walking Bowie any minute and I still have to put the presents under the tree. Just. Will you help me make this the best Christmas he'll ever remember? Please?"

He's an anxious mess, and he knows his uncle can tell, because instead of teasing him further, he just confirms in a warm and gruff voice that he will help Eddie make this the best Christmas for his boy. They end the call and Eddie rushes into their shared office and recreation room. It is actually Steve's old room from when they were roommates instead of boyfriends. Nowadays it's used as a guest room when one of their friends or his uncle sleeps over, and as a storage room for all the stuff they don't want lying around the apartment taking up space.

It's also where they keep the Christmas presents.

Eddie carefully carries them over to their Christmas tree and places them underneath it. All except one, which he puts in his pocket. Playing with the simple gold band in his pocket, Eddie couldn't help but think back to that night over three years ago.

He had snuck into their dark apartment, assuming that Steve was staying at Sam's to avoid Eddie. He had decided to tell Steve the truth about his feelings during his long walk, rehearsing what he would say, playing out a hundred different scenarios. Still, he hadn't been prepared to find Steve lying on Eddie's bed, apparently asleep while waiting for him, with Eddie's favorite hoodie clutched to his chest.

The sight had hit him hard, making his breath catch in his lungs and his heart stutter in his chest. He had just stood there for what seemed like hours, watching Steve's sleeping form on his bed. Steve had looked worried, even in his sleep, a slight crease between his eyebrows and the hand holding his sweater had been clenched into a tight fist. His whole body was hunched up as tight as it could be, his knees pressed against his chest as if protecting himself from the cold and empty room. That was what finally made Eddie move.

He went back into the living room and grabbed the afghan off the couch before making his way over to Steve. But as he placed the blanket over the sleeping form, Steve had stirred.

"Eddie?" He had mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep.

Unable to help himself, Eddie had knelt by his side and started to stroke his hair. "Yeah, it's me. Go back to sleep, Stevie. We'll talk in the morning, 'kay?"

But when he had tried to get up, he had been stopped by Steve's hand on his arm, his eyes searching Eddie's with surprising clarity. "Stay. Please."

Maybe it was the late hour or the emotional exhaustion. Maybe it was because Eddie had no fight left in him to deny himself or Steve what they both obviously wanted. Maybe it was just the way Steve had looked at him, the memory of the tears in those eyes still clear in Eddie's mind. Whatever it was, Eddie had just slipped out of his jeans before crawling onto the bed right behind Steve, pushing the sheets out from under them to pull them over their heads. With their bodies pressed together and Steve in his arms, they had both fallen asleep.

The next morning they'd woken up late, still tangled under Eddie's blanket. Everything had been warm and hazy, perfect really. When he felt Eddie stir behind him, Steve had rolled over in his arms and they had just looked at each other for a long moment before Eddie had broken the silence between them.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I don't even know where to begin to tell you how sorry I am."

Steve had just taken his hand, his thumb caressing the back of it in small circles, and it had given Eddie the courage to go on.

He told Steve all the things he had been too afraid to say before.

They had talked for a long time. Steve telling him how much he had wanted Eddie that night, drunk or sober, that he had liked him for a while and had hoped they would get together afterwards. But then Eddie had called it a mistake and asked Steve to be friends. So he'd tried, but he'd never gotten over Eddie. Sam had known that Steve was nursing a broken heart when they got together, and after seeing how Eddie had reacted to their relationship and how it had gutted Steve to see Eddie pull away, he had put two and two together. He wished Steve good luck, but said he couldn't wait for Steve to get over someone who clearly wanted him back.

"I fucked up bad, huh?" Eddie had asked with a pained smile, looking at their intertwined hands between them. He couldn't believe that Steve was still here, holding him close and lifting their joined hands to his lips to plant a soft kiss on the back of Eddie's.

"Kind of. But I think we can fix this."

"And how do you suggest we do that, oh wise one?" Eddie had asked, hope blossoming in his chest at the warmth of Steve's smile.

Pulling Eddie impossibly close, Steve whispered against his lips, "Would you just kiss me, you idiot?"

Eddie had never been happier to be called an idiot, as it led to them exchanging soft kisses that soon became more heated, tongues sliding against each other to take each other's moans right out of their mouths.

When they finally stumbled into their kitchen, it was late noon, but that didn't stop them from making breakfast together before spending the day lounging on their couch, exchanging kisses and soft whispers of how happy they were to finally be here.

That day, Eddie had vowed to work hard to never let something so precious slip through his fingers again.

Since then, they'd adopted a grumpy orange-and-white cat with one eye and a mutt, moved Steve's stuff into Eddie's room ("Because that's where we finally got our shit together, Eds"), and Wayne had all but adopted Steve into the Munson family. Robin, Steve's best friend, had taken a little longer to warm up to Eddie because she had a front row seat to Steve's heartbreak thanks to Eddie being an idiot. But she had come around, as had Steve's little brother Dustin, who was away at college, a fact Steve didn't take too well. So Eddie had invited Dustin and his mother, as well as Robin, without telling Steve, hoping it would be the perfect surprise for him.

As if his thoughts had summoned them, the doorbell rang, alerting Eddie to the arrival of his guests. Opening the door with a flourish, he found Dustin and his mother standing there, along with two large suitcases.

"The Hendersons! Welcome to our humble abode, please come in." Eddie greets them cheerfully before leading them into the warm and cozy apartment.

He gets them settled in their guest room and is about to make them both some hot cocoa when the doorbell rings again, this time revealing Robin and his uncle, who happen to have arrived at the same time. They also gather in the kitchen, with Wayne taking over the cocoa duties. They all shove more presents into his arms, which he dutifully places under the tree as well. And in a wider circle around it, because holy shit, that's a lot of presents.

The only thing missing is Steve, who takes their dog for long walks whenever he has the time and hasn't been back yet.

Wayne is in the middle of telling a rather embarrassing story from Eddie's childhood, which the man himself tries to stop, but to no avail, when he is saved by the sound of a key turning in the lock of their front door. Eddie mimes for everyone to be quiet as he makes his way to the door as quickly as possible.

"Stevie, light of my life, you're back!" Eddie calls out in excitement as soon as the door opens to reveal his boyfriend and their dog.

Steve, on his knees letting Bowie off the leash, looks up at Eddie with suspicion. "What have you done now?"

"I'm wounded, Steven. Wounded! Why do you accuse me of some unknown crime before you even give me a kiss?"

Steve grabs Eddie by the collar of his Christmas sweater and pulls him in for a kiss, smiling so hard it can hardly be called that. "Because you get extra loud and dramatic when you're trying to hide something. So what have you been doing?"

"A special Christmas surprise, honey." Mrs. Henderson speaks up, making Steve whip his head around to face her.

"Claudia?" And then his eyes land on the other guests gathered in their kitchen. "Dustin? Robin? What...why? How? I thought you had to spend Christmas with your parents, Robs?"

"That was all Eddie. He arranged for all of us to come here and spend the evening with you. I have to leave later to drive over to my parents, but not for another four hours or so."

After hearing Robin's words, Steve slowly turns back to Eddie, and this time the tears in his eyes are from happiness, not heartbreak.

"Eddie," is all he says before he slams into him, his arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and his face nestled in his favorite spot just above Eddie's collarbone. "I love you." Steve whispers, his voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too, Stevie," Eddie whispers back, right into Steve's ear, the words meant just for him.

After that, they all gather around the improvised dining table Wayne had set up. It is a simple construction with another table the same height as their kitchen table, so they could push them together and decorate them with a large tablecloth to make it look like one. They eat the roast Steve had prepared, everyone praising his cooking skills, making him blush and his eyes glow with pride.

For dessert they have pecan pie, much to Steve's delight. "Eddie insisted it had to be pecan," Wayne reveals, earning Eddie a wet kiss on the cheek from Steve.

"You're spoiling me, Eds."

"It's not spoiling when you deserve it. Besides, the pie is for everyone, it just happens to be your favorite." Eddie deflects, suddenly self-conscious. Maybe he'd overdone it, just a little, in his quest for the perfect night. But what is it they say? In for a penny and all that. "I might have something just for you, though."

Before Steve has a chance to say anything to that, Eddie is already up from the table to get the ice cream from the kitchen. By the time he comes out with it, everyone has stuffed themselves with the pie, leaving none for Eddie. Putting the ice cream in front of Steve, he complains loudly about it. "That's how you thank me, I see. Scoundrels, all of you."

A plate with a large slice of pie is placed in front of him. "I saved you a slice, baby."

Eddie presses both hands to his heart and pretends to melt. "Aw, you do love me."

Instead of answering, Steve just kisses him before looking down at the bowl in front of him. "What's that?"

"Banana ice cream with toffee and caramel beans, topped with whipped cream and chocolate sauce."

Steve plunges the spoon into the creation and takes a big bite, letting out a moan that's downright pornographic. "Oh God, please marry me."

Across from them, Wayne nearly chokes on his coffee at Steve's words, and Eddie gives him a warning glare. Wayne is the only one in on Eddie's plan, which Eddie begins to regret. But he needed someone to organize some things, especially the custom-made rings.

After dinner, everyone gathers around the tree, including Garfield and Bowie. Garfield is sitting on Claudia's lap, having taken an instant liking to her, while Bowie is sleeping at Wayne's feet. As usual when their little family gets together, the gift exchange is a cheerful and chaotic affair. Eddie gets new guitar strings from Robin, a new set of custom-made Dnd dice from Dustin and Claudia, and Garfield slippers from Wayne, as well as a can of motor oil with the promise to change Eddie's oil together next weekend. Steve's gift, however, was the most treasured: two tickets to a Metallica concert right here in Chicago.

Throughout the night, Wayne had been taking pictures of everything, claiming that they would be glad to have some memories later on. So when all of the presents have been handed out, he leads Steve and Eddie over to the tree for a picture.

"We need Garfield and Bowie here, too, if it's a family photo," Steve exclaims, his cheeks rosy from equal parts eggnog and joy. "Come here, Bowie. Good boy." Bowie, who is just as much of a sucker for Steve as Eddie is, promptly follows. Eddie knows that Garfield would not be so easily persuaded, so he walks over to Claudia, plucks him from her lap, and places him at Steve's feet.

What Steve doesn't know is that this is all part of Eddie's plan. The two pose in front of the tree with Bowie between them and Garfield weaving between Steve's legs. Just as Wayne's about to take the picture, Eddie turns to Steve and, seemingly outta nowhere, grabs a Santa's hat and puts it on Steve's head. "There you go, now you look all dressed up for the occasion."

"How...where did you hide that?"

"Pulled it out of my ass. You better check to see if I have any more Christmas stuff stashed there later, big boy."

Eddie can't know it yet, but he hopes Wayne captured the exact moment Steve's face scrunched up in surprised laughter. But even if he hadn't, Eddie hadn't been able to tear his eyes away from it anyway, as he memorized every single detail of that very moment.

As his laughter subsides, Steve opens his eyes again to look over at Eddie, only to find him kneeling with his hand outstretched and something small on his palm. A simple golden ring.

"Oh my God."

More than one gasp of surprise could be heard from those around, but the only person whose reaction matters to Eddie is Steve. Who looks at Eddie with big, shining eyes and an open mouth, completely taken by surprise.

"Steve, I have rehearsed this a million times and I still do not have the words to tell you what you mean to me. What our life together means to me. I love you so much it scares me, because surely people aren't supposed to feel that much, but I do. And I want to be scared every single day for the rest of my life because it means I get to love you. I get to cherish you and laugh with you and take care of our furry kids together, and Steve, sweetheart, I want to marry you and promise you forever. And I can't wait for nothing to change, because the life we have is already perfect. And if that didn't make any sense to you, I'm really sorry. The most important thing is that I love you. So, Steve Harrington, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

Steve has tears streaming down his cheeks, but he’s smiling. In fact, he’s smiling so big it has to hurt, and when he kisses him, all Eddie can taste is happiness and love. After that, Steve peppers his whole face with kisses, each one pressing another "Yes" into his skin.

Their love story might not have begun like a perfect fairy tale, and Eddie had no idea if it would end like one. But the middle? It was pretty damn perfect, if you asked him.

#steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #my writing #for the record: here it already is the 25th so this entry is for the 25th day prompt of steddiemas

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faerieroyal · 3 months

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𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘’𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄’𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐒 !

— ❥ 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 + 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

( warnings: insecurities, mentions of kind of shitty parents and past partners, one mention of food )

( note: this short was written with tom holland’s peter parker in mind, but i think it would also work for andrew garfield’s if you’d rather picture him. )

you are not a person who is used to praise. this isn’t something you say to garner sympathy or to make people feel bad for you so they’ll compliment you, not at all - it’s just a fact. your parents have never been the kind of people to vocally express approval, usually settling for an awkwardly cleared throat and a hand squeezing your shoulder, and the few romantic partners you’d had before your current boyfriend apparently hadn’t seen the need for it either. but then, you’d realized after those relationships had ended, your partners hadn’t really seemed to appreciate anything you did for them anyway, so the fact that they weren’t big on complimenting you isn’t exactly shocking.

what is shocking, however, is what happens when you start dating one peter parker. when he’d first confessed his feelings to you and asked you out, face scarlet and stumbling over his words all the while, you hadn’t really expected much of a difference from your previous relationships. sure, peter was much sweeter and more genuine than your former partners, but at that point you’d been convinced that you just attracted people who didn’t express gratitude, so you’d assumed, with no small amount of disappointment, that this relationship would turn out to be the same.

you find very quickly that you’re in for a surprise.

peter isn’t really known for being the most eloquent guy around; everyone at school is familiar with the way he tends to trip over his words, even if he can occasionally land well-placed verbal blows on bullies or anyone who’s being an idiot. but his tendency towards stumbling over his words hasn’t stopped him from praising almost everything you do since the two of you started dating - quite the opposite, in fact. almost every time you do something for him, or, in fact, even when you just do something that could be generally considered good, he’s quick to shoot a compliment your way in that sweet, slightly awkward way you’ve come to associate with him and him only.

“oh, you didn’t have to make breakfast - thank you, though, really, it looks like it’s gonna be delicious!”

“is… is that a new outfit? i mean, it’s fine if it’s not, too, obviously, but you… you look really good in it. like, wow.”

and, you’re surprised to find, even when you mess up or you’re struggling, the praise doesn’t stop coming; in fact, it seems to increase, now combined with encouragements and forehead kisses and even offers to help with whatever you’re having trouble with, something you’re even less used to than compliments.

“i know this is really hard, but you’re doing really good, okay? i’m super proud of you, no matter what.”

“is there anything i can do to help? maybe i can’t help with the actual thing, but i can get you a snack? or, are you cold, i can get you a blanket?”

“i’m really proud of you, you know. i just… i mean, i dunno, i just thought i’d tell you.”

it’s everything you haven’t had from anyone up until this point, everything you didn’t know you wanted until you and peter got together… and you’re not entirely sure you deserve it. you know your boyfriend isn’t exactly in the habit of saying things he doesn’t mean, but it’s all just so much, all the compliments and affirmations, and while it does feel good, you’re never sure exactly how to react to it at the time, and it always makes you feel like the worst partner ever when your own attempts to return the praise are always so awkward and stilted.

you tell peter all of this, one night when the two of you are curled together in bed. you’re not entirely sure where you find the courage to voice what you’ve been thinking - maybe it’s just the effect of being in the dark, the little burst of confidence to say things you’d never have the wherewithal to say in the light of day. nevertheless, you finally voice all the negative thoughts swirling around in your head, your voice quiet and shy, but the words there all the same.

the moment you’re done, peter shifts around in bed, moving so that the two of you are facing each other, your own face cupped gently in his hands. you can’t make out every little detail of him in the dark - not that it matters, when every facet of his face has been engraved in your mind and heart for months now - but you can see the way his eyes are wide with genuine concern and affection, how his mouth is turned down in a sad little frown that you’d surely think was absolutely adorable had you not just shared your most vulnerable, insecure thoughts with him.

“babe,” peter says, his voice soft and sweet and oh so gentle. “of course you deserve compliments and encouragement and all that, you’re amazing. and i mean, everyone deserves compliments and that kind of stuff, but you deserve them more than most people, because you’re amazing and ‘cause i know you haven’t had a lot of them. and it’s okay if you can’t always give it back to me, you show your love in other ways and that’s fine. i know it’s kind of hard to believe when you’ve convinced yourself of something different, but i don’t have any problem keeping on telling you until you do believe it, and i will. okay?”

it’s not the most eloquent speech ever, but it’s honest and loving and so peter that you can’t help it, a few tears well up in your eyes. but peter sees them immediately, because of course he does, and he immediately swoops in to kiss your eyelids, pushing them away. you nestle your face into the curve of his neck, so overcome, for a moment, with all the love you feel for this awkward, adorable, wonderful boy, and in return the boy in question wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles you closer to him, knowing to give words a rest for a moment and just let you hold him and process.

he’s right, of course, as he tends to be. everything you think and feel, all the effects of being deprived of praise and encouragement for so much of your life, are going to take a while to overcome, to replace with positivity and acceptance of all the things your boyfriend thinks and says about you. but you can’t help but believe peter when he says that he’s going to keep at it, with all the boundless determination that makes him such an amazing person and hero, until you really do believe him.

marvel taglist: @hiya-itsamber, @fairyofthehollow, @whiskeyswriting, @dancingwith-sunflowers, @xoalexandrarose !

general taglist: @maddipoof, @thatmagickjuju, @talkingturnedtoscreamss, @malafvma, @auxiliarydetective, @heliads, @oneirataxia-girl !

( send me an ask if you want to be added to a taglist !! )

#(.⋆꙳‧ my works !! ‧꙳⋆.)#— ❥ dolly writes drabbles !!#— ❥ valentine’s love language shorts !!#— ❥ dolly’s beloveds: peter parker !!#peter parker drabble #peter parker x reader #mcu drabble #mcu x reader #marvel drabble #marvel x reader #gender-neutral reader

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6rookie-writer0110 · 3 months

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The moonlight

Garfield Logan x Male Reader

Request: Garfield Logan x male magical reader basically Wanda, reader spoiling Gar cause let’s be honest he deserves it

You have been dating Garfield for almost a year now. You and Garfield have strong feelings for each other and are always affectionate to each other.

Right now, you are training and you are using your magic, to hit the dummies. Garfield walks in with snacks and he is smiling at you.

“I come in peace” Garfield smiled.

“Hey babe” You smiled.

He gave you a peck on the lips.

“How was the training?” Garfield asked.

“Good. My magic is getting stronger and I learned new spells” You said.

“That’s good. I was thinking we would do something together” Garfield said.

“Sure, we can do something,” You said.

You used your magic to clean yourself and change your clothes.

“So handsome” Garfield smiled.

“So are you, babe” you smiled.

—-

You and Garfield go to the mall together. He is holding your hands then you and him go inside a store. You grabbed a few things and he tries on a leather jacket you helped him pick out new shorts and shirts. You paid for everything and he isn't used to it, someone spending a lot of money on him.

“You really didn't have to buy everything,” Garfield said.

“I know but I wanted to,” You said.

He kissed you on the lips. Then you and Garfield go to another store and he helped you decide what to buy.

Much later, you and Garfield went to a see movie. He put his arm around you and you lay your head on his chest. Then you feed him popcorn and he can't stop smiling at you.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

It's valentines Day… you surprised him with gifts and chocolates. He wrapped his arms around you and you start to kiss him. You and Garfield can't stop smiling at each other, then you touch his hair. He has on the leather jacket that you bought for him at the mall.

“Thanks for the gifts. I always used to hate Valentine's Day then you came along” Garfield said.

He feeds you chocolate. He takes out the plush bears from the bag and the card then gave it to you. It's two bears with one heart and a cute Valentine's Day card.

“For my handsome and smart boyfriend,” Garfield said.

“Here are your gifts,” You said.

He starts to open his gifts and he likes them. Then he put his hands on your face and he starts to kiss you.

“Do you remember how we met?” Garfield asked.

“I do remember. You faked being rich to impress me then you saved me from Bane” You said.

“I’m glad I did that. I wouldn't have changed anything, because I'm happy that you gave me a second chance to show you the real me” Garfield smiled.

You feed him a piece of chocolate and he likes it.

“I got one more gift for you,” You said.

“What is it?” Garfield asked.

You take out a promise ring and put it on his finger.

“It's a promise ring and an engagement ring. A promise never to leave your side and whenever you need me I will be there” You said.

He leans in and kissed you on the lips.

“No matter what happens, I will never leave your side Y/n. I care about you a lot and I don't want to lose you” Garfield smiled.

Later, you and Garfield cuddle in bed to watch a movie together, and you are the bid spoon. He puts his hand on top of your hand.

—-

You used your magic to take Garfield to take him to Australia. You and Garfield got tired of the cold, then you surprised him with a trip.

“I always wanted to go to Australia and pet koalas!” Garfield smiled.

“Wow, you seem really excited about it. Let's go to the beach first then we go pet koalas?” You said.

“Sounds like a good plan, babe,” Garfield said.

You and Garfield are staying at a hotel and then started to get ready. At the beach, Garfield is smiling because you stop touching his chest

“Babe, I got enough sunscreen,” Garfield said.

“Just making sure,” You said.

He did put sunscreen on your chest. You are having fun with Garfield at the beach and he is making you laugh.

Much later… you and Garfield went to see Koloas and pet them. You did take a few pictures with him holding koalas. Garfield can't stop smiling then he turned into a koala then he got on your arm and you took a picture of him.

“Cute” You smiled.

Later he transforms back into himself. Then you and Garfield went to get something to eat.

#Garfield Logan fluff #Garfield Logan imagine #garfield logan x reader #Garfield Logan x male reader #x male reader #male!reader #male reader #titans imagine #male reader imagine

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psithurista · 11 months

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approach shift pt. nine

pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader (TASM/Andrew Garfield version) length: 4.3k rating: explicit 18+ warnings: Mentions of death, fingering, a quick wristy (lol)

Peter Parker is a weirdo. A hot, distracting, irritating weirdo. And you can’t afford distractions right now. So there’s only one thing to do.

a/n: Last full chapter but there will be an epilogue in the not-too-distant; I'll probably have more notes then. Thank you x

series masterlist

The back of your head is torturously itchy.

You try surreptitiously to press your knuckles to the spot, just to relieve the worst of it. The nurse sitting closest to you glances up at you from over the top of her monitor and guiltily, you clasp your hands back down into your lap.

It smells sour in here, like soft plums left to rot. Whichever industrial cleaner it is this hospital uses, it’s definitely not one anybody’s trying to market for domestic use. It’s probably cheap as fuck, you contemplate, your hand drifting back up towards your head.

“You can go in now,” a new nurse says beside you. You jerk your hand away. “He’s awake. I let him know you’ve been waiting.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, unpeeling yourself from the plastic waiting room chair. “I won’t be very long. I just wanted to say hi.”

She gives you a mild, distracted okay-that’s-nice-whatever smile and disappears. You push open the door to the room she’d just exited and duck inside.

It smells far better in here. There’s a vase of opening lilies leaving red pollen-stains on the table in front of the window, and the lavender-powder smell of clean sheets. Doctor Brant is propped up in the bed, frowning hard at the tablet in his hands.

“I hope you aren’t working while you’re meant to be resting,” you say.

He tilts his head down to peer at you over his glasses. “Oh, no. It’s just sudoku. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Doctor. How are you?”

He nods, and sets the tablet aside. “Well, they’ve finally taken me off the oxygen so I expect I’ll be allowed to leave soon. All things considered, a little smoke inhalation injury at my…advanced age could’ve been far worse.” His eyes glint a little bit. “Were you injured?”

You shake your head. “A concussion, but I’m fine. The. He. Um. You know. He got me out, before he went back for you.”

“You shouldn’t have stayed to look for me.”

You sit gingerly on the very edge of the chair next to the bed. “I thought. I didn’t think he’d made it to you in time. I thought you were both.” Your voice starts to sound weird, so you stop talking.

He folds his hands together over his chest. “It’s strange. I remember the first time I saw him. I didn’t understand what was happening. I thought it must have been a stunt, or an advertisement for something. Silly, really. And yet he’s saved Oscorp from itself more times than it deserved. After Connors and Dillon and that whole terrible disaster with young Harry. It’s too much. There’s no reason for anybody to endanger themselves in that place ever again.” He takes his glasses off and sets them beside the bed. “Which is why I’ve resigned.”

You stare at him. “You. What?”

He smiles at you; the expression a little indulgent. “All those years of work, gone. And for nothing. I’m sure you’ve already heard what happened?”

You have. It’s been all over the news the entire week. First the speculation: was it an attack? Was it political? Was it another disgruntled ex-employee? A competitor? And then, later, the worse, more boring truth: regular old corporate negligence. An undertrained technician who’d tried to prematurely purge a vac test chamber with concentrated oxygen. An alarm system two years overdue for maintenance. And floor upon floor of laboratories filled with dangerous substances, improperly stored.  

Nobody else in your department was seriously hurt. But others weren’t so lucky.

“When I started with Norm, it was all about changing the world for the better. And in the end, we’ve helped nobody.” He shakes his head. “If you’ll forgive my language…Fuck Oscorp. I’m ready to start over.”

You grin at him, even though it feels a little watery. “I’m…really happy for you.” And you are. In the brief time you’ve worked under him, his passion has been obvious, but he’s always seemed so bogged down by the minutiae of red tape; appeasing a board of investors with no interest in the importance of his life’s work beyond its potential profitability.

But it also makes your already-uncertain future with the company even foggier. You’ll need to find someone else willing to offer you a similar graduate position, and you already know you won’t find anything else quite as specialised as the work he’s been doing.

He takes a sip from the glass of water beside his bed, then sits back with a sigh. “Publicly-funded research is a far less glamorous world than that of private enterprise. We’ll be relying primarily on grant funding and academic support. There won’t be any glass fountains or vertical gardens, I’m afraid.”

You nod sympathetically. “I can imagine. It’ll be a big change.” His eyebrows draw together at you. “I would understand if your answer is no.”

You blink. “My answer?” you say, like a genius.

“If so, I would, of course, write you a glowing recommendation. And I have plenty of contacts I could put you in touch with, if you’d prefer that.”

Holy shit. Is he…? “Hold on. Are you offering me a position with you?”

“Well, yes.”

He grunts as you dart in and hug him. “Oh! Yes! I mean, of course! I would love to. Thank you so much. You won’t regret this.”

“Uh.”

You lean back as he smooths his blankets down. “Sorry,” you say, a little sheepish. “That was unprofessional.”

He tries to look stern, but it’s unconvincing. “Well, yes,” he says again. “But I’ll choose to ignore it just this once.”

You stop by to see Bear on your way home. The roller doors in the alley beside the grimy little theatre are propped open so you can see all the half-painted set pieces inside, and there’s a bunch of people dressed all in black gathered around smoking.

“Are you gonna be home tonight?” you ask, watching her inhale the deli sandwich you’d brought after correctly guessing she hadn’t stopped rehearsing long enough for lunch.

“I can be if you want,” she says, her mouth full of half-chewed food. “But I was kind of planning on staying at a friend’s.”

You press your knuckles absently against the back of your head and leer at her. “Would this friend happen to be the same person who wanted you to move in after one salad date?”

“If you don’t stop scratching your stitches I’m calling the hospital and narcing to your doctor. And yes.”

You make a face. “I’m not even touching them!”

She stuffs the rest of the sandwich in her mouth and wipes her hands on her jeans. “I’m seriously cool not to go, though. It’s totally fine.”

She’s barely left you alone since you got back from the emergency room, even setting alarms and checking up on you throughout the first couple of nights. You know for a fact she’s had to cancel other plans for you—again. You shake your head. “No, go. I kind of want some alone time anyway.”

It’s another cold, bright afternoon. You walk into the feet of your shadow and spread your fingers beside your body as your arms move, watching them elongating out on the pavement in front of you, lost in thought. You’ve been lost in thought a lot, lately.

You’re just past the end of your block when you catch sight of the figure sitting on the stairs outside your building. Long legs in faded jeans are stretched out and crossed over at the ankles, and there’s duct tape around the toe of one sneaker. You slow to a halt on the sidewalk. A woman behind you huffs with irritation, veering around you, a giant paper grocery bag clutched in her arms.

He looks up from his cracked phone screen as you draw level with your door. His hair is as chaotic as ever, stuck up in every direction, except for at the nape of his neck, where it curls gently around in little flicks. He looks tired. He’s always looked tired, the whole time you’ve known him, but you notice it differently now. Like the holes in his jeans, and the bruise on his jaw, and the angry-sore-looking blisters on his knuckles.

He smiles a little, jerking you out of your silent staring. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t wanna just show up unannounced. I’ve been trying to call, but,” he holds his phone up, and you shake your head.

“My phone was—”

“Yeah, I figured.”

The wind lifts the edge of your scarf and shivers under the neck of your coat. There’s something sweet in the air; like cinnamon sugar, maybe someone baking from one of the open windows overhead. “Do you want to come inside?”

His expression is soft as he considers you, looking up through his lashes. “Okay.”

Neither of you speak on the trip upstairs. Your hand accidentally brushes his as you reach out for the elevator buttons, and you both pull away, as awkward and over-polite as strangers.

He stands a respectful distance back as you open your door, and you lead him inside, waving your hand vaguely toward the sofa. “Do you want a drink?”

He folds himself into the seat nearest the window, hunching over and shoving his hands between his knees. A cold drift of sun touches his jaw. “Um, no thanks, it’s cool.”

You sit down beside him, folding your hands across your lap like you’re about to get a class picture taken.

He chews his lip, runs his thumbs over his burned hands. Outside, a car horn beeps. “It’s not because I didn’t trust you,” he starts. “If you’re wondering. I don’t want you thinking that’s the reason.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You don’t need to explain.”

“I just want you to know—”

“I know.” You try to smile at him, and it feels a little watery. “I get it. I know why you couldn’t tell me.”

His brows bend together just enough to mark out a pained line. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Really. Don’t be.”

It falls silent in your living room. The little clay pinch pot in the centre of the coffee table Bear had brought home from the artists’ market watches you both watching one another; soft-skinned and tender as nervous newborn things.

“You might die doing this,” you finally point out. “One day. All those times you’ve been hurt. You might…not come home.”

He nods at the floor. “Which is why I couldn’t really ask you to, you know. Waste your time with—” he waves his hands vaguely back and forth between your bodies. “It’s not worth it. And, like, trust me, I would never, ever want to drag you into any of the shit I’m involved with. I didn’t mean to fuck you around so long, knowing you wouldn’t...” He looks back at you, his dark eyes soft. “It was just. The happiest I’ve been in a really long time. I couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry. It was shitty of me. Selfish.”

You stare at him for a few seconds in stunned disbelief. Then you laugh. You don’t mean to, and his head jerks back, startled. “Are you serious?” you manage.

His eyes are huge. “Uh. Yeah?”

You laugh again. It sounds a little manic. “You’re unbelievable.”

He flushes. “Could you maybe quit laughing at me when I’m trying to—”

“Peter. You saved my fucking life. Twice. Even after I was a total asshole to you. You saved me.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, look, I don’t want you to feel weird about that. Like, it’s totally, one-hundred-percent not a big deal and I never want anybody to feel like—”

“You help people. Strangers. Every day. For nothing. And they aren’t even grateful. The things people write about you.” He hasn’t moved, and you realise you’re talking louder than you need to, considering he’s right in front of you. “You’re the least selfish person I’ve ever met,” you tell him, emphatic, needing him to get it. “You’re a good person, Peter. I’m so sorry I didn’t see that before.” Your voice breaks a little and it’s embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as the fact that your vision has gone blurry and your cheeks feel suddenly too hot.

You stop and breathe for a few moments, willing yourself not to cry. He doesn’t say anything, just studies the edge of the rug as though he’s pretending not to notice, and you’re grateful.

Then, quietly, he takes a breath. “I was going to tell you. Before the fire. I saw May, and she told me she saw you, and that you’d talked, and. I wanted to explain everything.”

You remember the way May had looked that day in the park; her small, sad mouth, and the way she’d spoken slowly like she was choosing each word carefully. “Does she know?”

Peter half-shrugs. “We’ve never talked about it. But, like, I know she knows. And she knows I know she does.” He gives you a little smile. “It’s easier if we both keep pretending we don’t, though.”

“Does anyone else?”

His smile turns tight. “I guess not. Not really.”

“So you’ve been doing this all on your own? The whole time? How?”

He runs his hand back through his hair. “Yeah. Well, I guess I’m pretty good with DIY now, you know? I wasn’t always. I had to learn. Shit went wrong a lot in the beginning. Shit still goes wrong a lot.”

You lean in a little, curling into the cushions. “What’s the hardest part?”

You’re expecting him to say the fear of discovery, or the isolation, or the sheer physical exhaustion. But he wrinkles his nose. “God. The sewing. It’s so hard. And it’s constant. I swear I pop a different seam every day.” His face goes blank for a moment and he looks at you as though a brand new thought has just occurred to him for the first time. “It’s actually really nice. Getting to talk about this.”

“Am I allowed to ask about the outfit?”

He slaps his hands over his face. “You are absolutely fucking not allowed to ask about the outfit.”

Your mouth drops open in outrage. “I wasn’t gonna laugh! I just want to know why—”

“Look, I was going for, like, a velodrome thing. Like for speed and better flexibility and less wind-resistance and then like, anonymity as well, obviously, and originally—”

“What about the, uh, pattern?”

“Yeah, okay, okay, it seemed cool at the time! I was fifteen!”

The thought of Peter as a child, alone, in danger, no doubt even ganglier and nerdier than he is now, sends a fresh pang of sadness through you. You try not to let it show. “Do you eat the webs?”

He stares like you’ve just asked if he’d like to swap heads with you. “What?”

“Certain types of spiders go back and eat their webs after they’re done with them. Like, to replenish the protein they expended making them. Do you ever eat yours?”

The expression on his face is the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. “Uh, no. It’s inorganic. Like, it’s a, like essentially a nylon polymer composite. It’s not edible. I mean, I’ve never tried, but it’s designed to dissolve after a few hours, so I guess if you did really want to eat it, it wouldn’t hurt you…” He trails off, sheepish, looking at you sideways. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Yeah,” you say, unable to stifle your smile any longer.

He grins and ducks his head. He hasn’t shaved today, you note; there’s a little bit of stubble along his jawline.

Your chest hurts. Seeing him, being close to him, just like before. It pulls open the ache of missing him, turning it from a bruise into a wound. You know you shouldn’t. You tell yourself not to. But you do it anyway.

“I miss you.” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper.

He looks so fucking sad. His eyes are huge and pained and so close, and then they dart down to your lips, and you see it; the precise split-second the urge hits him, then the one after as he fights it, and your heart sinks and you’re about to lean back but then his mouth is on yours and it’s soft and it’s warm and unbearably gentle as his hands sweep up to the base of your neck.  It’s not the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You’re twisted uncomfortably to face him. Your hands lay shocked in your lap, and you’re pretty sure he can hear you attempting not to sniffle too much with your breathing, and you’re so busy worrying about it that you forget to open up to him; his tongue touching the edge of your lips. His fingertips brush the stitches at the back of your head and you flinch, pulling away.  “Oh, shit, sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, visibly mortified.   “It’s okay,” you say. “Didn’t hurt. It’s just sensitive.”

“For kissing you,” he clarifies. “I know we’re not, like…you know. Anymore.”

That hurts. You shake your head. “We could be. We could try.”

“I can’t ask you—"

“No. Don’t do that. What do you want?”

He exhales through his nose and a tiny, pained sound escapes with it. “It’s not that easy—“

“It is. It is that easy. What do you want?”

“You have no idea,” he says, suddenly. “God. You have no fucking idea how bad I want you. I want this. You’re the only thing I. Fuck.” He knuckles at his eyes, frustrated. “You just have no idea how bad this could go.”

“I do,” you tell him, gently. “I know exactly how bad it could go. And I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry that happened. It’s so, so fucked up that that happened and I’m so sorry, and I know nothing I can say will ever make any of it any less fucked up, but fucked up things happen. They happen all the time for normal people, too. And fucked up things are going to keep happening and it’s inevitable and it’s part of being alive and that’s why we just need to take that risk every day, and choose to—to try to just be happy in as many stupid fucking hopeless ways as we can anyway, because we deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

He’s staring at you like he wants to believe you. Like he wants to cry. “You need to know,” he says, reaching his hand out, pulling it back. “I can’t promise you this’ll be okay. If you still wanted…I would try. I would try so, so hard for you. Harder than I’ve ever tried at anything. But I—I still just have no way of knowing that it’ll be okay.“

You smile at him, shaky and sure. “That’s any relationship, Parker.”

This time when he kisses you, you’re ready. Your mouth opens eagerly under his, catching the faint metal-salt of his skin, the dryness where his lips are ever-so-slightly windburnt.

All the breath leaves your body in a rush. You shove your hands up through his hair, lifting up onto your knees and sliding across his lap until you’re straddling him on the couch.

He tilts his head back to work his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands sliding up underneath your shirt to find the edges of your bra, and it’s awkward and clumsy and you’re both breathing hard by the time he manages to get your jeans unzipped and his hand cramped into your underwear.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, half-dizzy from kissing without pause. You almost bite him when his fingers find your clit. “Can you—yeah, like that, oh, my God—"

“Hold on, it’d be better if, let me…” he murmurs, frustrated, and you let out what could only be described as a yelp as he lifts your entire weight up to easily shove your jeans and underwear the rest of the way off your legs before settling you back down over his lap.

You’re stuck between trying to grind down against the front of his jeans and trying to give him enough space to work his hand back between your legs, ultimately deciding on the latter as he finds your clit again, this time his attentions unhampered by clothing.

His body hasn’t forgotten yours. It only takes a few moments of searching before he has you melting into the palm of his hand; your bones soft and hot inside you as you roll your eyes closed. It’s easy with him, just like before, but better.

You’re almost close when he eases two fingers inside you, and that’s easy too, so easy, the way you give for him. Your forehead rests against his as your lips come apart; too focused for kissing anymore.

“I missed you,” he breathes, working his wrist. “God, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You flex your thighs as you rock with the movement of his hand, and that’s when you need to touch him, urgently. It takes a little repositioning before you manage to open his jeans and ease his cock out, wrapping your fingers loosely around him.

You feel him tense and shudder as you stroke him, too slow to really get him anywhere, too lost in the way his long, firm fingers curl inside you.

He noses along your jaw, mouthing lazily at your damp skin, his eyes closed, and then he’s there, right where you need him, and you’re clenching and biting down on the sounds trying to escape as you come apart sudden and hard around him.

You’re still loose-limbed and shaky when he pulls his slick fingers free, gently moving your hand out of the way to grasp himself instead. You feel a little guilty; you’d almost forgotten about him straining in front of you, but he doesn’t seem to care as he jerks himself quick and short in his fist. His other hand cups the swell of your ass as he huffs hot breath into your hair, your neck, coming sudden across the inside of your thigh.

You slump your weight against him.

Neither of you speak for a while. Your hand is curled between your bodies, trapped where it’s warm and you can feel his heart slowing in his chest. He runs his hand absently from your hip to your thigh, then back again.

“Peter,” you murmur.

“Mmm.”

“You do need to promise me one thing, though.”

He moves, just enough that he can look up at you. His cheeks are flushed. “What?”

“We can never. And I mean never. Tell Bear we fucked on her couch.”

His eyes widen in horror. “Oh, my God. She already hates me.”

“I know. But it’s okay, because we’re not gonna tell her.”

“I just don’t know if I can keep that secret; I’m not good at subterfuge, y’know, I’m just not that kinda guy—"

“Yeah, yeah, okay—"

“—and you should see me under pressure; I fold like origami—"

You kiss him again, just to shut him up, and feel his lips curling up against yours.

Your thighs feel sticky and gross, and you’re starting to get cold, and when you get up you nearly fall over from the cramp in your leg from sitting so awkwardly, but you’re too happy to care in the slightest.

You stand together in the bathroom, cleaning each other up. Every time his eyes meet yours in the mirror you both smile again, giggling and getting in each other’s way, like idiots.

It takes twice as long as it should to get back out to the couch, and you’re hoping he’ll curl up with you again but then you catch him glancing toward the window. “You need to go,” you say. It’s not really a question.

He hedges. “I kind of do, but…”

You offer him a little smile. “It’s okay. Go.”

He nods. You walk him to the door, where he pauses. He chews at his thumbnail, looking at you sideways again from under his eyelashes.

You watch him for a few seconds, waiting. “What?” you finally say.

He presses his lips together, runs his hand through his hair. “So. It’s probably, like, kind of weird. To ask. At this…uh, juncture.”

He’s nervous, you realise. It’s excruciatingly endearing. You nudge him. “I feel like weird’s kind of our thing.”

He grins. “Yeah. I guess. So. I was gonna ask if you’d like to go out. For dinner. Friday night.”

There’s absolutely no way to prevent the smile slowly pulling at your mouth. “Peter. Are you asking me on a date?”

He laughs, a little self-conscious huff. “Uh, yeah. Like. I mean, I wanted to way sooner. But. I guess I wanna try doing things properly this time. If you want.”

You can think of a thousand different things to say, but most of them are embarrassing, so you settle for keeping it simple. “Yes. Fuck yes. Obviously.”

He blinks. “Oh, okay, awesome, holy shit. Okay. Should we…? I don’t have your new number.”

“Oh, yeah, I need to get yours again too.” You pull your phone out and make a new contact before handing it to him.

He stares at your screen for a second, then he snorts. “You have me in your phone as ‘p.p.’?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Why? What do you have me as?”

He laughs again, quiet, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He hands your phone back. He takes a few steps out the door, then he sticks his hands in his pockets. “So. I’ll see you?”

“You will,” you tell him, watching the way his jaw juts crookedly when he smiles.

He’s halfway to the elevator, walking backwards, his hands still in his pockets when he calls back to you. “Friday, Miss Jersey.”

You laugh. “Quit disturbing my neighbours.”

You stay there long after he’s gone, leaning against your doorframe, smiling to yourself, aching with stupid, giddy affection.

#peter parker x f!reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x f!reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #tasm fanfic #tasm fanfiction #tasm imagine #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter fanfiction

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spooky-bunnys · 1 year

Text

Shane x Male Farmer

The rain sounded heavy from outside. Thunder roared and lightning lit up the sky. It was late in the evening as Shane laid in bed. Staring at the ceiling. His mind wondering.

The sound of the front door opening and closing broke him from his trance. He looked up and snorted seeing his husband of almost a year coming in looking like a drowned kitten. In his arms was their orange cat. Though he looked perfectly dry. Shane looked at the cat then his husband then shook his head.

"(Name) how is the cat dry but you're not?" Name shuffled around his face a light pink. "I didn't want Garfield getting sick so I put him under my hoodie." Shane looked at the soaked hoodie and snorted again. "You mean my hoodie?" (Name) giggled and gently placed the cat on the bed.

"No I mean my hoodie. Remember your vows? 'What's mine is yours'? So it's my hoodie now." Shane shook his head laughing softly and slowly got out of bed. "Well let's get you out of that hoodie before-" (Name) sneezed and almost fell over. "You get sick."

(Name) laughed and slipped off the hoodie showing he was wearing a green familiar shirt. "(Name) is that my shirt too?" (Name) gave Shane a shy look. "Well I miss you when I'm working with the crops or with the animals. When I wear your clothes it's like your hugging me. So I like wearing them on the farm."

Shane stared. His husband was so cute sometimes. He was always so sweet. He didn't know how he deserved such an incredible husband. "I still haven't figured out how I got you. Everyone in town likes you. Hell almost every single resident in town tried for you (Name). Yet you chose the town drunk."

(Name) gave Shane a sturn look. "Former drunk Shane. Besides you've come a long way. You always talk about how Jas and I saved you but Shane. You saved me too." Shane wrapped his husband in a tight hug. He felt warmth and love. He his head. "Alright farmer hurry up and change for bed. Before Garfield steals the bed again."

(Name) chucked and quickly changed and slid into bed. He opened his arms and looked at Shane with puppy eyes. "Cuddles?" Shane shook his head and got into bed pulling (Name) close and took a deep breath. "We can always cuddle my farmer." (Name) giggled. "Thank you my chicken king."

Shane groaned loudly while (Name) laughed. "Not that nickname again! I told Jas to stop calling me that." (Name) gave Shane a sly look with a big grin. "Babe who do you think gave her the idea of calling you chicken king?" Shane froze and started at (Name) then laughed.

"You sly farmer."

#stardew valley #stardew valley x male reader #stardew valley shane #shane x male reader #shane x male farmer #male reader #x male reader

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fettuccin-e · 2 years

Text

Peter Parker Fic Recs (Part II)

hello besties i am still not over tasm!peter he is the loml i have no idea how they made TASM and were like "here is andrew garfield he is a nerd and a photographer and a skater boy,, also he gets no bitches" like absolutely not!! so please give these wonderful authors some love Here is part I of my Peter recs! (also!! if you are one of these authors and you'd like to be removed from this list let me know!!)

I'm Just Saying You Can Do Better by @venus616

>> Peter's finally getting some well-deserved attention at college, and as his best friend, you're happy to see him thriving. Except, when Peter finally sees you with someone else, he finally understands what he's been missing out on. (best friends to lovers where half the fic is smut. gorgeous show-stopping wonderful)

Serendipitous Salvation by @maximoff-pan

>> A story in which Peter is finally able to tell you that he loves you, the one constant in his life and the one who has been with him through everything. (this story and the dialogue is so tender and lovely i was literally in tears)

1 Missed Call by @liz-allyn

>> After a fight with Peter, you go out with your friends, only for the night to go horribly wrong. Peter is there to save you, but he's nearly too late. Luckily, the two of you have each other to heal. (okay, this fic gets very dark, so pls heed the warnings. i'm talking explicit talk about and attempted SA, so PLS keep yourselves and your mental health safe. That being said, this is amazing hurt/comfort, so I rlly reccommend)

Husband!Peter Goes Blond ask by @withahappyrefrain

>> Peter decides to dye his hair blond again, just like it was when you met him in college. You may be older now, with a house and two beautiful children, but seeing Peter with bold hair again brings back urges you thought were long gone. (Reformed frat boy to domestic peter parker. Lord have mercy i am going to scream)

The Heat is On by @withahappyrefrain

>> The A/C is out in your apartment, and your roommate Peter is still a cocky asshole. Thankfully, that cocky asshole is also willing to take your mind off the nearly unbearable heat. (blond peter has me in a chokehold and he's such a dick in this but also kind of sweet?? i can't-)

In the Name of Science by @withahappyrefrain

>> Peter brings home some lab coats from work, and it gives you a really fun idea. Maybe it's finally time to play out one of his favorite fantasies. (More domestic peter and also can you tell that I am a big fan of withahappyrefrain these fics are the shit)

Stroker Ace by @peterthepark

>> You have a big fat crush on Spider-Man, Peter Parker has a big fat crush on you, his best friend. When he finds out about your fantasies about the web-slinger, he finally decides that it's time to come clean about his secret identity. (Straight porn but also friends to lovers hell yeah babey say LESS)

Red Light/Green Light by @webslingingslasher

>> You don't like to think of yourself as a jealous person, but Peter's new friend is totally hitting on him, and it's pissing you off. The worst part? Peter doesn't believe you. That's red flag #1. (big time angst but it ends so cute and happy!! Yay!!)

Full Circle by @stresslessbaaby

>> After a fight gone wrong, Peter thinks he's going to lose you forever. He couldn't be more wrong. (more angst but!!! happy ending with domestic peter!!! so amazing and lovely)

#tasm peter smut #peter parker x y/n #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem #spiderman x y/n #spiderman smut #spiderman x reader

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

Text

—𓆩[shuffle play]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist!]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

OMG GUYS GUYS GUYS! I really want to have some fun with some stuff here, and I really want to hear more from you guys! So, let me introduce you something new to my blog (of course inspired by other amazing writers) SHUFFLE PLAY - AKA, Bingo!! For fanfic of course... anyways!

here is the bingo card:

And if you need it, here's twenty-five prompts!

"I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly."

"Try to stay quiet, alright darling? We're in public, you can't act up like you do in bed."

A: "You need to behave!" B: "Behave? Baby, you don't like it when I behave."

"I like having you covered in me. Smothered in me, full of me. Want all of you, and you need all of me."

"No, you can't touch me, that's your punishment. You have to sit there and watch."

"Why don't you put that pretty mouth to use for something else, hm?"

"I swear, honey, you look so much better with my cock in your mouth."

"I love you darling, I do, but I fucking love when you get all cock obsessed for me."

"No, no don't do that! I'll be good, I promise!"

"What, does that feel good? Hm? Tell me how good it feels."

"Who said we had to have sex on the bed?"

"Oh my darling girl, I have to mark you -- I need to show everyone who you belong to."

"It's okay to cry, darling, I know it's out of pleasure. Come on, show me how good I make you feel. Cry for me."

"We've been at it for hours, how are you still hard?!"

"I know for a fact you can be a hell of a lot louder than that, darling. Come on, scream for me."

"What? Don't stop on my account, I'm enjoying the show."

"Do you think they heard us?" "Yes. We did."

"Don't you know the hat rule, darling? Take a cowboy's hat, you're in for the ride of your life."

"Don't be gentle. I want it all."

"Please, please- I'll be good, I just need to fuck you."

"You're such a good girl/boy, honey. I think you deserve a treat."

"First one to make a noise loses, and I know how much you hate to lose."

"You know I hate it when you tease me, darling."

"Never knew such a slut would like this so much."

"We're in public, y'know."

EVERYONE I WRITE FOR IS LINKED HERE! DON'T BE SHY TO ASK IF I WRITE FOR A CHARACTER! If requests don’t go well, I will do it on my own, but I really want you guys to interact and have a choice!! Let me know if you have any questions :)

UPDATE (06/14/23) I wanted to make sure that it was clear this will be BLACKOUT bingo! All spaces will be used!!

How to request: Just send in a request starting with: "BINGO: (space name) with (character name) and prompt (#) and a brief overview or description on what you want to happen in the fic! Please remember that fics might take me a while :)

Requests as of 06/09/23 MUST include a please and a thank you!!

Additional characters that I can think of are Ethan Landry, Dave Lizewski and other characters from the fandoms listed in my main masterlist ♡

AGHHHH AS OF JUNE 14TH 2023, WE GOT OUR FIRST BINGO WITH:

'HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS' with Dylan O'Brien 'YANDERE' with Finnick Odair our 'Freespot' 'MOMMY KINK' with Ethan Landry and 'SPOILED RICH READER' with Stiles Stilinski!!!

SECOND BINGO AS OF JUNE 16TH 2023 WITH:

'HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS' with Dylan O'Brien 'OUT OF THEIR LEAGUE' with Ethan Landry 'WEDDING NIGHT' with Andrew Garfield 'SOULMATES' with Finnick Odair and 'SPOILED RICH BOY' with Finnick Odair!!!

All fics are listed in the masterlist!!

THIRD BINGO AS OF JUNE 29TH 2023 WITH:

'FRIENDS TO LOVERS' with TASM! Peter Parker 'SUGAR MOMMY' with Spencer Reid 'HIMBO' with TASM! Peter Parker 'YANDERE' with Finnick Odair and 'FANTASY AU' with Finnick Odair!!!

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪

Oh, and I think that's it! I hope you enjoy, and please, don't be shy requesting! Please make sure to check reblogs for updates, there's a tab in the notes to see them :)

with love, asteria ♡

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hauntedwitch04 · 8 months

Text

Leaves

Andrew Garfield x reader

Words: 0.7k words

Warnings: none, just fluff and idiots totally in love with each other

Author’s note: Hi everybody! Sorry to be this late, life is just being crazy right now.

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

🎃Halloween party 🎃

DAY 6: “I got some leaves on my way here for you, they are really pretty”

Ever since I was little, I have always collected leaves in the fall. It sounds kind of sociopathic, but my mother and I and then with my sisters, for as long as I can remember we have collected the strangest and most beautiful leaves that we found on our walks in the park during the fall.

Although I am no longer a child, I wanted to keep this tradition alive because it makes me feel closer to my family members who now live far away from me.

When I told my fiancé, Andrew, I thought he would think I was crazy instead he told me it was one of the sweetest things he had ever heard and asked if he could participate in this tradition as well, understanding perfectly well if I didn't want to because it was a very personal thing. I had not been able to help but throw myself at his neck, saying that I would love to share that thing with him, because after all for me and for my whole family it was now part of us, but until today he had never done anything to help me with my collection.

I am baking another pan of cookies, to the tunes of "Nightmare before Christmas," when I hear the front door open and close.

"Hello love!" I hear Andrew shout as he hangs up his jacket and takes off his shoes. "The cold weather has finally started!" He says sarcastically as he enters the kitchen, knowing that I was waiting for nothing more, as I hate heat and summer, while loving to death autumn and the cold it brings. In response I tongues at him as I keep humming the songs and then remember what I was supposed to tell him.

"Althea called me, you know about the surprise party for Iara's birthday, and she told me that it will be around three o'clock in the afternoon on Sunday, but that if we want to get there the night before she has a free room." I tell him, while I am still intent on checking the cookies that I am now taking out of the oven to make sure they are ready. I see him go wide-eyed and run off, and immediately I cannot understand his reaction so abruptly to what I have said.

After a few minutes I see him come back with a book, which he rests on the table. I open it and he proudly shows me a bright red leaf, with a few hints of orange, that seems to be almost heart-shaped.

I feel my heart melt inside my rib cage, seeing with how much love and dedication he is showing me what he has found, and I refrain from kissing him there his moment.

"I got some leaves on my way here for you, they are really pretty. This is my favorite, though. Do you like it?" He asks looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes of his, and I can no longer stop myself from leaving a sweet kiss on his lips. He is caught a little off guard, only to immediately return that gesture of affection from me.

"So am I to take it to mean that you liked it?" He says once we break away, giving me that sly little smile that I so badly want to wipe off with a slap.

"I would say yes, in fact I would say he deserves to have his own frame and a place on the fireplace." I reply, before going to get a photo frame, where there is already a picture of us in a park taken by one of our closest friends. I open the frame and place the leaf next to our figures, and close it all up, before putting it back on the fireplace where it was before. We both stay staring at that frame for what seems like hours, him with his arms around my waist and his chest against my back, while I keep my hands on his, hugging a little and enjoying the perfume he is wearing, which I gave him last Christmas. We don't say a word, but there is no need because we can both feel each other's happiness.

#hauntedwitch04's writing #becky's halloween party #halloween party #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield fanfiction #andrew garfield x you

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judgementdaysunshine · 1 year

Note

Hi, do you still do DC request. If so can I ask for headcanons on, what would it be like if Damian Wayne, Garfield Logan, and Jaime Reyes sepertly was dating s/o and s/o is Wonder Woman's daughter please.😁

Gotcha my dear!

Garfield Logan

He would be in awe of you not just the fact that you were the daughter of an amazonian but how you were as a person

He could never get enough of looking at you because of how beautiful you were that added more beauty to who you were as a person as well

He liked running his hands through your soft hair when the two of you were watching movies,when you fell asleep in his lap,and later on in between washing your hair while showering together

He always lets you choose what to do on date nights unless you both chose together or had plans to do something mostly movie nights in his room at the cave,sleepovers at your house,or having lunch together

He likes when sometimes you pick him up from behind and hug him to where he fits in your arms making him feel a bit embarrassed but also very adored

He likes to turn into your favorite animals to make you smile but also random ones to do different things with you from turning into a bird to sit on your shoulder while you read,a ferret just to sneak in your hoodies and sleep,and a snake ready to bite anyone that harmed you to a elephant just to use his trunk to pick you up,a cat to make mittens on your belly when your having period cramps, and a sugar glider just to gently land on your face to give you a kiss making you giggle

Jaime Reyes

He doesn't believe that you're a real person at first from how beautiful you are believing you're an angel from heaven or a Roman goddess instead of an amazonian

He always makes sure to have scarab behave when he is around you for a long time despite the scarab sometimes taking time to tease him for being lovesick like a puppy

He always likes to pick you up in his arms and flying up in the air while you giggle and look in awe like a little kid at the clouds even if you had seen them before

He will teach you spanish so you can talk to each other in his native tongue which makes him melt when you speak Spanish to him but when he hears you speaking it to his family he falls in love with you all over again

He always liked to tickle you when you're sad to hear you laugh and smile even if it was for a little bit before he would comfort you

He would wrap you in blankets and watch movies with you when you're anxious always cuddling you under or in a blanket until you felt calm again or fell asleep

Damian Wayne

He at first thinks you'll be another normal human girl that he has seen and met before but boy was he wrong when he saw you instead

He could truly never understand what it is about god like people or amazonians but when he met and saw you he truly understood how truly beautiful they were

He loves seeing you with animals feeling his heart get warm and calmly race which made him confused until dick told him it was what love felt like

He weirdly likes having you laying on him asleep he doesn't know why but he feels a sense of love and safety but also comfort by it

He always enjoys seeing you kick ass against people especially if they definitely deserve it and you hand it to them it makes him afraid to make you mad

He never does it a lot well not around people but after awhile he becomes very affectionate even smooching kisses all over your face when you're sad and stressed making you smile and laugh

#dc comics x reader #jaime reyes #beast boy x reader #dc comics #damian wayne x reader #beast boy #jaime reyes x reader #damian wayne

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morgansunflower · 1 year

Text

Can't Run From Me

Garfield Logan X Batsis! Reader

Damian Wayne X Raven

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language and angst

Words:1476

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V! Reader is Damian's full blood sister! Good mom Talia. Loosely based off of Beast Boy Loves Raven.

Requested taglist @too-strong-to-lose

To spare those whom they love Damian and his twin blood sister Y/N leave their family.

Y/N touches Alfred's head. He was almost killed by the assassin's Ra's sent. Alfred was hooked to a breathing machine and covered completely in bandages. This was a message. A threat.

"I'm so sorry Alfred.."

Gathering only what she needs, excluding anything her father could use to track her down. As everyone's main focus was on Alfred she used to the opportune moment to leave. Can't harm the target if the target isn't there. She hated not telling Damian goodbye or her family. Jason was going to have a justifiable shit fit. Dick will probably panic for a very long time. The whole family will probably try to find her but she can't let that happen. She had to erase all contact with her friends and family.. Including her fiancé Garfield. Y/N traveled deep in the woods. She started a small fire. She lays a small blanket on the ground. She hears rustling in the woods. She quickly took her weapons out.

"tt I've been tracking you for 90 miles" Damian says walking closer to his sister.

"Damian! What are you doing here?!" she shouted in frustration putting her, weapons back.

"the same reason you are. You weren't the only intended target" he coldly said.

"you know we can never see any of them again. You won't be able to see Raven"

".. I know..." he said bitter

"if you want to cry it's OK I cried for like 3 hours"

"I'm fine and I already know you did!" he snapped

Garfield tried calling Y/N but the stupid thing kept dropping his call. She wasn't home or anywhere he checked. Rachel teleported to each location she knew Damian could be and for some strange reason she can't mind-link with him. Garfield and Rachel look for each other hoping the other knew where their significant other was.

"Garfield! Where's Damian?" she demanded with her eyes glared.

"where's Y/N? Wait you can't find Damian?.."

"you can't find Y/N?.."

"you don't think that they?.." Gar stammered.

"Damian won't allow me into his mind... Either he's dead or he is going to be" she said with her hands on her hips angered.

"they really do not handle guilt well"

Y/N and Damian stood back to back. She held the sword her mother gave her while Damian held his own sword. They both spin a circle as the assassin's swarm around them.

"I told you we should have gone northwest!" Damian hissed

"at least they can't hurt anyone we care about.. You should have stayed home" she bitterly mumbled "as tempting as I know it is for you.. Don't kill"

"I know!" he snapped

Y/N blocked the blow from assassin. Damian and Y/N held them off as best as they could. She runs skidding to cut the leg of the assassin running to Damian. She thrust kicked an assassin. They were outnumbered... Y/N blocked holding back the large assassin's sword. She struggles as he inches closer. Damian tried to get to his sister but he was surrounded. Suddenly a bear roars in the distance. Raven appears, she uses her powers to throw several assassin's to the trees. Garfield runs to Y/N tackling the assassin. He pins him down to the ground roaring to him. Y/N kicked the assassin running to Garfield. They run to Gar as he thrust them away with his paws.

"retreat!!"

The rest of the assassin's listened to their order's. Rachel landed onto her feet.

"Beloved--" she slaps him across his face "I suppose I deserved that..."

Y/N lifts her head to her lover, still in a bear form. He lowly arched his back down to her and growled angered.

"I know.." she sighed

He changed to his original self and pulls her into his arms.

"after all we've been through.. Shit.. Baby you could've.. "

He gives her sweet kiss trying to calm down his anxiety from almost losing her.

"I'm sorry" she apologized genuinely

"you are so important to me babe. I love you. I am here for you"

In Gotham their absence was truly worrying the family. After endless hours of searching.. Jason laid down on his side unable to calm down. Artemis could feel the stress radiating off of him. She had just returned to find her husband in his great distress. She lays in the bed with him. She kisses his temple and then snaked her hand down his chest.

"I'm not in the mood Artemis" he snapped

Rather than get upset she knew something was very wrong by the hint of sadness in his tone and that he didn't even want to have sex.

"my love" she kisses his neck "turn around"

He turns around to face her. She holds his hand. He pulls her to lay on his chest. She leans her head up to kiss his face.

He stuttered shaken from his emotions trying to get the better of him "if that bastard fucking hurts them" he fights tears "there just kids Artemis, what if he?.. Why the hell didn't they come to me?.. We can't find Talia.. For all we know she could be.. " he let out a deep breath trying to calm his emotions.

That morning they went to Garfield's safe house. Each couple shared their own respected rooms. Whilst in each other's arms, Garfield kisses his fiancée. They had been engaged for 3 months now. His poor lover had been sick. Throwing up during the mornings, she seemed sore in all the right or wrong places. She laid with Gar while closely to him. Garfield eyes went wide hearing something very special in her abdomen area. He leans down as she sleeps listening very carefully. Their babies.. Two little babies. That following day Garfield and Damian went on patrol to ensure that they were safe from any threats.

"stay 5 feet away from me.. I don't want to get sick"

Garfield rolled his eyes at his friend's remark. Afterwards they changed to their civilian clothes to get food before heading home. Garfield snuck away from Damian to the baby department. He looked at the array of infant clothes feeling quite overwhelmed. Damian approached his friend.

"don't you suppose it be wise to wait for your urges to start a family" Damian scolded

"that's true but..." he lifts up the little Batman themed onesies with a, soft smile "it's kinda too late"

"Garfield..... Is my sister?" Damian was completely taken aback.

"two buns are currently in the oven... You gonna kill--" Garfield stammered as he smiled. "are you ok?"

"delighted" he smiled. "however you should learn to control your urges"

"well I'm not the one who wan--" he cut Garfield off quickly

"again must I remind you she is, my sister!!"

Back home.

"deep breaths Y/N. I sense your quite nervous. What's wrong?" Rachel asked her friend.

"I.. I think I'm pregnant" she blurted out

Y/N and Rachel walk through the store to look for pregnancy tests. She grabbed several boxes. Rachel went to snacks that Y/N had been craving for. She made her way to the baby clothes unable to avoid them. She sees her husband to be. He was shocked seeing her beautiful face. She sees him holding the infant outfits and two little stuffed bears. She was speechless. Rachel walked up holding the snacks and saw Damian with a kind smile. That instantly made her want to start a family with him. Garfield looks at the pregnancy test. He smiled softly.

"you uh.. You can put those back" he said

She couldn't move as she was genuinely overwhelmed. Her eyes begin to shake. Damian takes the boxes away from his sister to put them back but not before kissing her head. Garfield walks closer to her taking her face into his hands. He kisses her and hugs her. Garfield put the adorable infant clothes back and gives the bears to Dami with the money for them. He then took his lover outside to the car. She was already in tears. He opens the car, door for her. They sit in the car together.

"y-you're sure?.." she asked before she broke.

"I'm completely certain.." his eyes start to shake as cups her abdomen "and I'm also certain that I am so so happy.. I'm so sorry you can't be with your family. It kills me that I can't fix this.. I know it's too dangerous, but I--" he holds her hand "I promise that this is not going to be forever. Sooner or later we will see your family and.. My family too.."

She kisses him "Garfield, my only love. I appreciate all you've done to keep me safe. We are going to be, OK"

He nodded beginning to feel quite emotional hugging her "I know with you with me, I'll be OK. That we'll be ok"

#Garfield Logan #Garfield X Batsis! Reader #Damirae #Garfield Logan X Reader #Beast boy #Beast Boy X reader #Fluff #Good mom Talia #Jason Todd knew Damian and Y/N in the league of assassins #Big bro #Whump! Alfred #Alfred Pennyworth #Batfamily #bruce wayne #Brutalia #Pregnancy #Jaytemis

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