#you know like ALL the dates from now on would be like superhero dates | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

midastouch013 · 28 days

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"Find Me Attractive Again"

Based on this request

Summary: You had a wonderful girlfriend, and so what happens when you discover she has an eating disorder

Warnings: Eating disorder, Hurt Nat, Sad Nat, Neglecting Y/n. Panic Attacks. Purging, throwing up. Major hurt/comfort, from both sides.

P.S I wasn't really satisfied with the ending, so I apologise. I also took my own spin on it since it was kind vague, so I hope you like it'.

P.S.S And also, after such heavy fics, I'd really like for someone to drop me a fluffy one, Not just Nat, any Marvel woman please.

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It was a typical summer day in New York City when your paths first crossed. You, wrapped up in the chaos of your medical residency, were rushing through the streets, white coat flapping behind you like a superhero’s cape, while Natasha Romanoff, the infamous Black Widow, was navigating the crowds with the ease of someone who had seen it all.

It was at a street corner where fate decided to intervene, in the form of an iced coffee and a collision. Natasha, in her sleek elegance, accidentally bumped into you, sending her cold drink cascading down your front.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was a mix of genuine contrition and a hint of amusement.

You blinked, the cold seeping through your shirt, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. “Well, at least it’s a hot day,” you replied, trying to brush off the mess.

Natasha quickly handed you some napkins, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're a humour one I see"

"That I am" you grinned "I've also cost you your coffee"

Natasha went to open her mouth, but you spoke instead.

“Let me make it up to you. Can I buy you another drink?”

"But I'm the one who spilt mine on you?" her eyebrow raised as she questioned.

"And?"

"I should be the one buying for you?"

You're smile didn't falter " Where's the chivalry in that?"

And that was the start of it all. What began as a clumsy encounter turned into a friendship neither of you expected. Natasha’s charm, mixed with her trademark snark, drew you in like a moth to a flame. Soon, the two of you were spending your precious free time together, swapping stories over drinks or taking long walks through the city.

Despite her guarded nature, Natasha opened up to you in ways she hadn’t with anyone else. You became her confidante, her sanctuary in a world filled with chaos and danger. And in turn, you found solace in her presence, a respite from the relentless demands of your residency.

As your friendship deepened, so did your feelings for her. You found yourself falling for the enigmatic Avenger, captivated by her strength, her wit, and the vulnerability she only showed to you. And one day, gathering every ounce of courage you had, you asked her out on a date.

To your delight, Natasha said yes, her smile lighting up the room in a way you had never seen before. And just like that, your friendship blossomed into something more, a new chapter in both of your lives.

Now, as you walked hand in hand through the bustling streets of New York, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. With Natasha by your side, you felt invincible, ready to take on whatever challenges life threw your way.

Little did you know, however, that behind the redhead’s confident facade lay a secret she was desperate to keep hidden. An invisible battle she fought every day, one that threatened to consume her from within.

And so, all it would take for you to find out, as a plate of untouched food, and certain other stuff

---

The elevator door opened with a ding, admitting you into the familiar warmth of your shared home (Floor in the compound that Tony had so happily given) with Natasha. The faint scent of breakfast lingered in the air, a reminder of the meal you had meticulously prepared before your short 12-hour shift at the hospital.

But as you stepped further into the living space, your brow furrowed in confusion. The plate of food you had set out for Natasha sat untouched on the dining table, a solitary fork resting against the edge.

"Nat?" you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet apartment. There was no response, just the eerie stillness of an empty room.

Concern gnawed at the edges of your mind as you ventured further into the living space, scanning every corner for any sign of your elusive girlfriend. But Natasha was nowhere to be found.

However, before you could think what to do next, the sound of retching echoed through the apartment, sending a shiver of dread down your spine. Without a moment's hesitation, you bolted towards the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you flung open the door, the sight that greeted you was enough to make your stomach churn. There stood Natasha, hunched over the toilet, her face contorted in agony as she forced herself to purge.

Instinct took over as you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from her mouth. "Nat, stop," you urged, your voice laced with urgency and concern.

For a moment, she resisted, the muscles in her arm tense with the effort of her struggle. But slowly, reluctantly, she relented, allowing you to pry her fingers away from their self-destructive task.

The sight of her trembling form, tears glistening in her eyes, tore at your heartstrings like nothing else. You wanted to wrap her in your arms, to shield her from the demons that haunted her, but you knew that this was a battle she had to fight on her own terms.

Gently, you guided her away from the toilet, leading her to the sink where you wet a washcloth and pressed it against her clammy forehead. "It's okay, Nat," you murmured, your voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within her.

As you helped Natasha up from the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, her silence weighed heavily in the air, a palpable barrier between you. You guided her to the bed, her movements sluggish and unsteady, and gently urged her to sit down while you prepared a bath.

With practiced efficiency, you filled the tub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender oil to help soothe her frazzled nerves. But as you turned to help Natasha undress, you noticed the way she recoiled from your touch, her body tensing at the slightest contact.

Your heart ached at the sight, a pang of sadness settling in the pit of your stomach. You had always prided yourself on being there for Natasha, on offering her the unwavering support and love she so desperately needed. But now, faced with her silent withdrawal, you felt utterly helpless, like a bystander watching helplessly as a storm raged on the horizon.

With a heavy sigh, you stepped back, giving Natasha the space she seemed to need. You watched in silence as she rose from the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, before making her way to the bathroom.

It was only then that you noticed the small click of the lock as she closed the door behind her, a barrier sealing her off from the outside world. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the walls Natasha had built around herself, walls that even you, with all your love and devotion, could not penetrate.

For a moment, you stood there in the empty room, the weight of Natasha's silence bearing down on you like a leaden cloak. But then, with a resolute shake of your head, you pushed aside your own doubts and fears, determined to stand by her side no matter what.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and made your way to the bathroom door, your hand poised to knock. But at the last moment, you hesitated, the sound of running water and Natasha's soft sobs echoing through the wood.

But when the sound of retching pierced through the closed bathroom door, a surge of panic shot through you like a bolt of lightning. Without a second thought, you abandoned your plans to change and rushed back to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

With a swift motion, you twisted the doorknob, but to your dismay, it refused to budge. Locked. The realization sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through your veins, igniting a primal instinct to protect Natasha at all costs.

"Nat, open the door!" you called out, your voice tinged with desperation. But there was no response, just the sickening sound of her struggle echoing through the small space.

With a burst of adrenaline-fueled determination, you threw your weight against the door, the wood groaning in protest as it gave way beneath your force. For a moment, everything seemed to blur together in a haze of motion and sound, until finally, the door swung open with a resounding crash.

And there she was, hunched over the toilet once more, her body wracked with violent spasms as she forced herself to purge. Without hesitation, you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from their self-destructive task.

"Nat, please stop," you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. But this time, there was no resistance, no struggle against your touch. Instead, Natasha collapsed against you, her tears mingling with the cool touch of your skin.

With a sense of resolve, you refused to leave Natasha alone in the bathroom this time. Instead, you stayed by her side, offering silent support as she struggled with the demons that haunted her.

As the water continued to run, filling the tub with warm, comforting steam, you gently guided Natasha towards it. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes cast downwards, before finally sinking into the water with a heavy sigh.

You stood by the tub, your presence a silent reassurance as Natasha submerged herself beneath the surface, her shoulders tense with the weight of her burdens. With a soft exhale, you reached for the shampoo, pouring a small amount into your palm before lathering it into her hair with gentle, soothing strokes.

"I won't look," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I promise."

Natasha remained silent, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the confines of the bathroom. But you could sense the tension in her body, the invisible barriers she had erected to keep you at arm's length.

Undeterred, you continued to wash her hair, your fingers working through the tangles with practiced precision. With each stroke, you hoped to chip away at the walls she had built around herself, to offer her a glimpse of the love and acceptance that lay waiting on the other side.

But despite your best efforts, Natasha remained distant, her silence a heavy weight in the air between you. It was as if she had retreated into herself, lost in the labyrinth of her own thoughts and fears.

With a heavy heart, you finished washing her hair, rinsing away the suds with gentle care. Then, reaching for the washcloth, you began to bathe her body, moving with slow, deliberate motions as you washed away the stains of the outside world.

Gently, you lifted Natasha from the bathtub, her body feeling almost weightless in your arms. The sight of her frail form, bones protruding beneath the thin veil of her skin, sent a shiver of concern down your spine. It was a stark reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her body, a silent battle she fought day in and day out.

With tender care, you carried her back to the bed, laying her down with the utmost gentleness. You tucked the blankets around her, the soft fabric a comforting cocoon against the cold reality of her struggles.

As Natasha lay there, her eyes distant and unfocused, you made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with thoughts of how to help her. You knew that she needed nourishment, both for her body and her soul, but convincing her to eat was a battle in itself.

With a determined resolve, you rummaged through the pantry, searching for something light and easy to stomach. Finally, you settled on a plate of sliced fruit, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the darkness that threatened to consume Natasha from within.

Returning to the bedroom, you found Natasha still lying there, her gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance. Carefully, you placed the plate of fruit on the bedside table, hoping that the sight of it would stir something within her.

"Nat," you said softly, your voice a gentle reminder of your presence. "I brought you a snack. It's just some fruit. Would you like some?"

For a moment, there was no response, just the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest as she breathed in and out. But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, she reached out a trembling hand, fingers curling around a slice of apple.

You held your breath, watching intently as Natasha brought the fruit to her lips, her movements hesitant and uncertain. But then, with a small nod of encouragement from you, she took a tentative bite, the sweetness of the apple filling the air between you.

A sense of relief washed over you as you watched Natasha eat, each bite a small victory in the battle against her eating disorder.

As Natasha slowly nibbled on the fruit, you settled beside her on the bed, the familiar weight of her body a comforting anchor in the storm of uncertainty. With a soft click of the remote, you turned on the television, the familiar theme song of F.R.I.E.N.D.S filling the room with its nostalgic melody.

You glanced over at Natasha, her gaze fixed on the screen, her lips curved ever so slightly in the beginnings of a smile. It was a small victory, a glimmer of light in the darkness that threatened to consume her.

With a tender smile of your own, you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against your side. The warmth of her body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of her breath a soothing lullaby in the quiet of the night.

Together, you watched as the familiar antics of Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe unfolded on the screen before you. The laughter of the characters, the camaraderie of their friendships, served as a reminder of the bonds that held you and Natasha together, even in the darkest of times.

And as the episode came to an end, you turned to Natasha, the ghost of a smile still lingering on her lips. "Feeling a little better?" you asked softly, your voice a gentle caress against the silence of the room.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. But then, with a small nod of her head, she leaned into your embrace, her body relaxing against yours.

It was a small victory, a flicker of hope in the midst of despair. But for now, in this moment of quiet intimacy, it was enough. Together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way. As you snuggled into Natasha, the fragile contours of her body pressed against yours, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With each delicate curve of her form, you could feel the sharp edges of her bones, a painful reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you held her close, the weight of her fragility pressing down on you like a leaden weight. "Why, Nat?" you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of Natasha's unspoken pain hanging heavy in the air between you. But then, as your grip tightened around her, almost as if you were clinging to her for dear life, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I..." she began, her words faltering as if caught in the tangled web of her thoughts. But then, with a small shake of her head, she fell silent once more, the words hanging between you like an unspoken promise.

As you thought Natasha had drifted off to sleep, you reached for your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating the dimly lit room. With a deep breath, you dialed the number for the hospital, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to make a decision that would change everything.

"Hello, this is Dr. Y/l/n," you began, your voice steady despite the nerves that churned in the pit of your stomach. "I need to take the next month off."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of a hesitant voice. "Dr. Y/l/n, are you sure? We're short-staffed as it is, and your patients—"

"I'm sure," you interrupted, your tone firm and unwavering. "I've already made up my mind."

The person on the other end of the line hesitated, clearly taken aback by your sudden decision. "But Dr. Y/l/n you're one of our top surgeons. We can't afford to lose you—"

"I understand that," you replied, your voice tinged with frustration. "But right now, I need to take care of someone who needs me more than anyone else."

There was a moment of silence as the gravity of your words hung heavy in the air between you. And then, with a resigned sigh, the person on the other end of the line relented, agreeing to grant you the time off on the condition that you'd go unpaid for the month.

As you ended the call, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. You knew that taking time off from the hospital was a risk, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was being there for Natasha when she needed you most.

But as you turned to check on her, you realized that she had been awake the whole time, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Natasha's voice cut through the silence of the room, her words heavy with emotion. "Why did you do that?" she asked, her eyes searching yours for answers.

You met her gaze, the weight of her question hanging heavy in the air between you. Taking a deep breath, you reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, your fingers lingering against her cheek.

"Because you needed me," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Because I love you, Natasha, and I would do anything for you."

Tears welled in Natasha's eyes as she listened to your words, her expression a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. "For everything."

As Natasha's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft hum of the room's ventilation system. You could see the turmoil swirling behind her eyes, the weight of her burdens threatening to crush her beneath their weight.

"Why did you do that, Natasha?" you asked gently, your voice laced with concern. "Why do you hurt yourself like this?"

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her gaze drifting away from yours as she searched for the words to explain the unexplainable. "It's… it's complicated," she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Try me," you urged, your tone soft and understanding. "I want to understand, Natasha. I want to help you."

With a heavy sigh, Natasha began to speak, her words halting and uncertain at first, but gaining strength with each passing moment. "It's not just me," she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's… it's the comments, the stares, the whispers behind my back."

Your heart ached as you listened to her words, the pain and anguish etched into every syllable. You knew all too well the harsh realities of the world Natasha inhabited, the constant scrutiny and judgment that followed her wherever she went.

"It's like… like I'm never good enough," Natasha continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I achieve, it's never enough. And the news, they… they only make it worse."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you watched Natasha unravel before you, the weight of her suffering a burden too heavy for her to bear alone. In that moment, you felt a surge of anger rise up within you, a burning indignation at the injustices Natasha had endured.

"And..." She trailed off

"And?" You pulled her into your arms, holding her close as if to show that you were there for her. You could feel the ache in her voice, the raw vulnerability laid bare before you.

"I just... You," Natasha began, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "You used to look at me with such... such longing. You'd initiate everything, your touch, your kisses... But lately, it's like you don't even see me anymore."

Your heart clenched at her words, unsure of what to do or say.

"I thought... I thought maybe it was because of how I looked," Natasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought if I worked out more, if I stopped eating, if I... if I purged, maybe you'd find me attractive again."

Your breath caught in your throat at her confession, the pain of her self-inflicted suffering tearing at your heartstrings. How could she think such a thing? How could she believe that her worth was tied to her appearance?

But you remained silent, allowing Natasha to speak, to purge the demons that haunted her soul. For in that moment, you realized that the only way to help her heal was to listen, to truly listen, without judgment or condemnation.

"I just wanted to be enough for you," Natasha whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "But I was so wrong, wasn't I? I was so wrong."

And as she buried her face in her hands, her words seemed to sink in, making you feel like the ground beneath you is crumbling away, leaving you adrift in a sea of guilt and self-loathing.

Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself away from Natasha, the weight of her words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You stumbled backward, your eyes wide with shock as you realized the role you had played in her pain.

"Oh my god," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own ragged breaths. " I did that"

Natasha's eyes widened in concern as she watched you retreat, her voice tinged with fear. "Y/n? Are you okay?"

But you couldn't answer, couldn't bring yourself to face her, not when the guilt threatened to suffocate you. You hated yourself in that moment, hated the way you had let work consume you, the way you had neglected the person you loved most in the world.

And then it hit you, a wave of overwhelming emotion crashing over you like a tsunami. You sank to the floor, your body racked with sobs as the weight of your own self-loathing bore down on you like a heavy burden.

Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the darkness, her words lost amidst the chaos of your own thoughts. But you could feel her presence beside you, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort and support.

But you couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the thought of her touching you, not when you were the reason she was in pain. So you pushed her away, stumbling to your feet and retreating further into the shadows.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice barely audible above the storm of your own despair. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to… I didn't know…"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the words tumbled from your lips in a frantic mantra, each repetition a desperate plea for forgiveness. But the only one you blamed was yourself, your own self-loathing swallowing you whole.

Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the chaos of your mind, her words lost in the tumult of your own despair. But you could feel her presence beside you, a steady anchor in the storm.

But even as she reached out to comfort you, you recoiled from her touch, the weight of your guilt too heavy to bear. You felt betrayed by yourself, , the person who had allowed this to happen.

"I'm sorry," you choked out once more, your voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to…"

But the words fell flat, empty and hollow in the face of your own self-condemnation. And as you sank further into the darkness, the weight of your own despair threatening to consume you, you knew that there was no escape from the demons that haunted you.

"Y/n, listen to me," Natasha's voice was firm, cutting through the haze of panic that clouded your mind. "You need to breathe. Deep breaths, okay?"

You nodded, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of your racing heart.

"That's it," she encouraged, her voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. "Inhale... and exhale. You're okay, I've got you."

You focused on her words, on the steady rhythm of her breathing, allowing them to anchor you in the present moment.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/n," Natasha continued, her grip on your hand reassuringly firm. "I'm right here with you, and I'm not letting you go."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you clung to her, the weight of your own self-loathing threatening to crush you beneath its suffocating embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Natasha," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I didn't-"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle finger against your lips, her eyes soft with understanding. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured.

With trembling hands, you grasped Natasha's palms in yours, feeling the warmth of her touch seeping into your skin like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Without a word, you pulled her into a tight embrace, needing to feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest.

"I love you, Tasha," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pressed kisses against her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, each touch a silent testament to the depth of your love for her.

"I'm sorry for everything," you murmured between kisses, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for making you feel unloved, for neglecting you when you needed me most. I promise, I'll do better. I'll be better for you, for us."

Natasha's arms tightened around you, her own tears mingling with yours as she buried her face against your chest. "I love you too, Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "And I forgive you. We'll get through this together, I promise."

---

Over the next few days, you devoted yourself wholeheartedly to supporting Natasha, determined to make amends for your past neglect. You woke up early to prepare nutritious meals for her, ensuring that she had the sustenance she needed to fuel her body and soul.

You gently guided her through each day, offering words of encouragement and reassurance whenever she needed them. You deleted all the news apps from her phone, shielding her from the harsh judgments and scrutiny of the outside world.

And when you learned of the agents who had dared to badmouth Natasha, you wasted no time in tracking them down and giving them a piece of your mind. With a fiery determination burning in your eyes, you confronted them head-on, refusing to let them tarnish Natasha's reputation any further.

"You have no idea what she's been through," you spat, your voice laced with righteous anger. "She's one of the strongest, most resilient people I know, and she deserves nothing but respect."

The agents cowered before you, their faces pale with guilt and shame. And as you walked away, leaving them to ponder the consequences of their actions, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you.

Every time you sensed Natasha spiraling, you were there, a steady anchor in her stormy sea. You showered her with kisses, peppering her face with affectionate gestures, a silent reminder of the love that enveloped her. Your touch was a constant presence, your fingers entwined with hers or softly tracing patterns on her skin, a tangible reassurance that you were there for her, always.

You made sure she had everything she needed, anticipating her wants before she even voiced them. Whether it was a warm meal or a comforting hug, you were always one step ahead, ready to offer her solace in her moments of need.

But even as you tended to her, Natasha noticed the turmoil brewing beneath your surface. Despite your smiles and jokes, she saw the shadows lurking in your eyes, the weight of your own struggles weighing heavily on your shoulders. And though you tried to hide it, she knew that your sleepless nights were spent wrestling with demons of your own.

---

As the time came for you to return to work after a month of devoted care for Natasha, a sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach. The thought of leaving her alone, vulnerable to the demons that had haunted her in the past, filled you with a gnawing anxiety.

You found yourself making up excuses, delaying your departure in a futile attempt to hold onto the precious moments you had shared together. But Natasha saw through your facade, her eyes searching yours for the truth that you were desperate to hide.

"Y/n, what's going on?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm. "You've been acting strange lately, avoiding going back to work, making excuses to stay. Is something wrong?"

Your heart constricted at the concern in her voice, the weight of your own fears threatening to suffocate you. But you couldn't bring yourself to voice the truth, to admit to the depths of your own insecurities.

"I… I just don't want to leave you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid that if I go back to work, things will go back to how they were before. I'm afraid of losing you Tasha."

Tears welled in your eyes as you spoke, the vulnerability of your confession laying bare the depths of your fear. But Natasha's response was immediate, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace, her warmth a comforting balm against the storm raging within you.

"Y/n, listen to me," she said, her voice steady and unwavering. "I'm not going anywhere. We've been through hell and back together, and I'm not about to let anything tear us apart."

With a heavy heart and a sense of resolve, you made the difficult decision to resign from your position, knowing that your place was by Natasha's side. As you prepared to leave, a fierce determination burned within you to make the most of the time you had left together.

With a hunger born of love and longing, you pulled Natasha into your arms, your lips seeking hers in a passionate kiss.

An so as you hold Natasha close, your heart overflowing with love and devotion, you feel the need to express the depths of your feelings to her.

"Nat," you begin, your voice soft and tender, "I need you to understand something. I love you more than words can express, more than I ever thought possible."

You press a gentle kiss to her forehead, savoring the warmth of her skin against your lips before continuing.

"I love you for who you are, not for your past or your appearance. Every part of you, every scar, every imperfection, it's all part of what makes you so incredibly beautiful to me."

Your fingers trace the contours of her face, your touch reverent and adoring.

"And I want you to know that my love for you will never waver. No matter what challenges we face, no matter what obstacles come our way, I will always be by your side, loving you with every beat of my heart."

Tears shimmer in Natasha's eyes as she listens to your words, her own heart swelling with emotion.

"I love you too, Y/n," she whispers, her voice choked with tears. "More than you'll ever know."

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#avengers #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #anon ask #anonymous #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #natasha x y/n #natalia romanova #eating disoder recovery

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just-more-pr0mts · 3 months

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You have probably seen all the aus like danny gets adopted by batfam, Danny as damiens twin/older brother, Danny dating a member of the batfam, Danny part of the justice league, Danny as a gotham superhero and more.

But have we seen Danny Fenton as Batman.

Danny Fenton who was taken in by the original Wayne family, with Marta and Thomas Wayne. Taken in when Martha was not yet pregnant. They treated him as their own and raised him as such. When they discover that Martha is pregnant and go out to celebrate. When they take a short cut and danny is just a few seconds too late to save them.

The boy who lost his parents when he failed to stop Dan and for all he knows his sister is dead gone. Who was lost in the infinite realms for so long. Who got stuck in a foul city where the weak are crushed so only the strong prevail.

Danny, Who stumbled into the warm arms of the Wayne family. Who slowly opened up to them. Who never used his powers so he could have a shred of normalcy with them. Who realized they loved and cared for him as thier own. Danny who accepted he loved them in turn. Danny,the boy who lost another set of parents on one fateful eve.

Danny who lost-

Danny who

Danny

Bruce.

Bruce who takes in these lost stray children because he wants to look after them. But he doesn't know how to because he never had a normal childhood.

Bruce who puts up a front to protect himself as well as his family. Who lies to face of powerful beings to protect his family. Bruce who trains long and hard to protect his family from said beings, so much so that he ends up locking away his emotions, so that his children don't have to loose another parent -not knowing that they already had so long ago

Bruce who's so proud of his children, but just doesn't know how to show it. Who is so scared, so terrified they might fight the same battles as him...or something even worse.

BRUCE WHO WANTS to kill the joker. Who wants to hurt him like he hurt his CHILD and leave him there to die, but he knows better than that... he knows what a cruel joke it would be, the irony. He knows that it will just more horrible things to his children knowing they'll never be able to stop him. That's why he brought him back.

Bruce who as much as he tries is always two steps behind.

And now when his new dimension is at stake because of the very beings he left behind, he must choose between the life that he built for himself here or the one that he left behind.

A carefully weighted scale. With the future on the horizon, and choices to be made.

Will the scale stay true or will the choices made unbalance it all.

________

Hii my beautiful creatures of the day and night.

I sorta forgot about tumblr but if you like this piece let me know! Also I love hearing how I can improve and make my writing better.

Ps. If you have any suggestions on what I should write about feel free to ask! I'm so excited to hear about it

Ps.ps. if you have any cosplay blogs dm me! I'm trying to get into cosplau

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togrowoldinv · 10 months

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Just Right

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You and Natasha have your first date. In an unexpected turn, she ends up bonding with your young daughter

Note: This is soft soft soft Nat. I’ve had this idea for a while. Enjoy it!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

When you first met Natasha, you had no idea that she would ever fall for you. It didn’t make sense. She is a world class assassin turned superhero and you’re a business woman.

But you immediately felt drawn to each other from the moment you locked eyes. There was an issue with Nat’s paycheck, and you were the woman to see about it.

The redhead waltzed into your office and left with her problem resolved and a new crush. Natasha then kept making excuses to see you.

Most of the time there was no issue at all, but she’d still come to your office. She wanted to see you. And you weren’t going to complain.

Finally, Natasha asked you out. It was the easiest yes of your life. But now standing at your closet, having no idea what to wear, you wonder if it was the right decision.

Natasha will be here in 15 minutes and you’re still in your bathrobe. Your saving grace comes in the form of your young daughter. The one you haven’t told Natasha about.

“You should wear this, Mom,” the little girl says. She points to a black dress that does frame your body well.

“You think so, sweetie?” You ask.

“Yes. You look so pretty in it!” She remarks.

You kiss her cheeks as a way to say thank you and take the dress out of your closet. Slipping it on, you glance in the mirror. It feels good.

The next fifteen minutes fly by and there’s a knock at your door. You walk through the foyer to open the door.

When you do, Natasha is standing on the other side. She wears a black tshirt and jeans with her signature leather jacket. A comfortable but attractive look on her.

“Hey y/n,” Natasha says. Her eyes rake over your body. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you reply, a heat in your cheeks and neck. “So are you. I just need a moment if you want to come in.”

Natasha nods and enters your home. She loves the way it feels so cozy even just two steps inside. She’s waiting by the door when your daughter approaches her.

“Oh, hi there,” Natasha says, her brow raising in question. “What’s your name?”

“Hi, I’m Taylor,” the girls answers. “Are you here to see my mommy?”

“Yes I am. I’m Natasha.”

Nat holds out her hand for the girl to shake and she does so surprisingly well for a seven year old.

“I like your flowers,” Taylor says, pointing to the roses in Natasha’s hand.

She was going to give them to you when she walked in, but you disappeared too quickly.

“Here,” Nat says while handing Taylor the bouquet. “For you.”

“All of them?” Taylor gasps.

“Mhm,” Nat assures her.

“Wow! Thank you!” Taylor cheers. She takes off running towards your room where you meet her at the doorway. “Mommy look! Tasha gave me these!”

“Tasha did, hm?” You ask, glancing to Nat. She only shrugs and smiles at the nickname from the girl. “Did you say thank you?”

“I did,” Taylor says.

“Good job, baby,” you tell her. She preens at the compliment. “Be good tonight, okay?”

“Yes ma’am I will,” she replies.

The sitter arrives at the house right on time and Taylor pulls her inside quickly to show her the new toys she just got. Natasha leads you out to her car.

“So, you have a daughter,” she says.

“I do. Is that a deal breaker?” You ask.

“Absolutely not. She’s cute,” Natasha says. “Plus, I kind of gathered from the photos of the little girl in your office.”

“You knew?”

“I know most things,” Natasha says, grinning from the driver’s seat.

You shake your head and get lost in the feeling of being on a date again. She parks the car outside of the restaurant.

“I hope you came hungry,” she says. “This is one of my favorite places.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” you say. “But I’m excited to try it.”

You walk into the restaurant with Natasha. Her hand hovers over your back as she leads you inside and to a table. There’s a card that says reserved. You look to Natasha.

“I told them I was bringing a date,” she chuckles. “I guess they took it seriously.”

You smile and slide into one side of the booth while Nat sits in the other. She takes off her jacket to reveal her muscular arms. The black t-shirt hugs her biceps perfectly. You watch as she intently reads the menu and you try to think of something to say. But the silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

“What do you recommend, Natasha?” You ask her.

Her eyes look up from the menu to meet yours. She tells you about all the different foods she likes here. You find it all a bit funny that a superhero knows so much about a local restaurant’s burgers, but it makes you fall harder for Natasha.

The conversation flows easily from there. You tell her about your life and she tells you about hers. You’re sure she leaves out some of the less than happy details.

It’s about an hour into the date when your phone rings. It’s the sitter.

“I’m sorry. I need to answer this,” you excuse yourself as you walk outside while answering the phone.

While you’re gone, the waiter asks Natasha if it’s going well. She smiles and gives him a thumbs up.

You come back inside with a frown on your face. Nat stands up in reaction.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

“The sitter has to leave, so I have to leave. I’m so sorry, Natasha.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” she says. She places a comforting hand on your arm before turning to the waiter. “Put this on my tab?”

“Can do! Have a good one!” They say.

“Thank you. Let’s go,” Nat says. She grabs her jacket and leads you back to her car.

When she gets in the driver’s seat, she holds the jacket in her lap kind of awkwardly as she drives.

“Do you want me to hold it?” You ask her.

“Oh, that’s okay. I was going to put in the back but then I just didn’t for the sake of time,” she says, with a cute look on her face.

“I’ll hold it,” you say this time. Not a question. She lets you take it from her lap while she continues to drive.

You hold it against your lap. And it’s oddly warm. A lot like just being around Natasha feels like.

She pulls into your driveway and comes to open your door for you. You notice she doesn’t ever miss a chance to do that. You don’t have time to linger at your door, so you turn the key and relieve the baby sitter.

She says her apologies before she leaves and tells you that Taylor is asleep in her bed. That won’t last, you think.

During all of this, Natasha stands just inside the door.

“Come further in, Natasha,” you say, gesturing towards the living room.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I- um- I was having a good time, so maybe we could keep this date going?” You ask, taking a chance.

“I’d love that,” Natasha replies. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Natasha makes herself comfortable on the couch where she’s noted you set her jacket down while you go to the kitchen. You emerge a few minutes later.

“Well, it seems I have no wine, but I do have juice boxes,” you say. You hold them up and grin.

“I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of drinking from a juice box,” Natasha says.

“Really? Oh Natasha, this is about to change your life,” you say dramatically.

You sit next to her and show her how to put the straw in the box. She does successfully and tastes the sweet, way too sugary drink for the first time.

“So, what do you think?” You ask.

“I like it,” she says. “It’s weirdly fun to drink out of the straw.”

You’re about to reply when you hear the sound of little feet.

“Taylor, baby?” You call into the hallway.

“Mommy?” She asks confusedly in her sleepy haze.

You open your arms and she walks to your embrace easily, planting herself on your lap. She buries her face in your chest.

“Did we wake you up?” You ask her. She shakes her head against you.

Natasha graciously takes the juice box from you so that you can hold Taylor with both hands.

“Okay. Let’s go back to bed,” you say, standing up with her in your arms.

“Wait,” Taylor mumbles. She reaches an arm out towards the couch. “With Tasha.”

“Baby, it’s Ms. Natasha or Ms. Tasha at the least,” you correct her manners. You let it slide earlier, but you want Natasha to stick around.

“Tasha is just fine,” Natasha joins in the conversation.

“Okay,” you agree. “Come on ladies.”

Natasha follows as you take Taylor back to her bedroom. The room is covered in fun, pink decorations. It makes Nat smile to see a little girl able to be so safe and happy.

“Goodnight sweetheart,” you say, kissing Taylor on the head.

“Goodnight mommy,” she says. “Tasha, can I talk to you?”

“Oh,” you remark. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Nat says. “If it’s okay with you?”

You nod and step back to the doorway. It’s far enough to give her space with the girl, but close enough to hear what they say.

“Are you going to come here a lot?” Taylor asks.

“Oh, I’m not sure. I would like to I think,” Natasha replies. She sits on the bed next to Taylor. “What do you think about that?”

“Will you bring me more flowers?” A hopeful smile rests on her face.

“Yes, I will. What’s your favorite flower?”

“I don’t know,” she says.

“That’s okay,” Nat assures her. “Is pink your favorite color?”

“Yes ma’am,” Taylor replies. “How did you know?”

“It was a wild guess,” Natasha jokes. It goes over the little girl’s head but you appreciate her awareness of her surroundings. “I just might bring you pink flowers next time I see you, okay?”

“Pink flowers! Yay!” Taylor cheers. Her eyes droop closed as she fights sleep.

“Goodnight, malyshka. It was nice to meet you,” Natasha says.

“Night Tasha,” she mumbles.

Nat stands up from the bed and you take her hand as you walk back to the living room.

“Was that okay? I don’t want to overstep but I definitely want to see you again and-“

You cut her off by hugging her tight. Your arms are around her neck and she places hers around your waist.

“Thank you,” you say. She holds you for as long as you need. And it’s definitely a long time. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says. “Thank you for tonight. I had a really great time.”

“Even with the interruption?”

“Especially with the interruption. Who else is going to ask me to bring them flowers all the time?” Natasha jokes. “She’s great.”

“She’s the best,” you say, a laugh falling from your lips.

“I should probably go,” Natasha wonders aloud.

“Yeah,” you agree. “But before you do maybe you can finish your juice box?”

You’re reaching for ways to spend more time with her, but she doesn’t complain. She sits next to you on the couch again and drinks some more of her juice.

“You know I bet the guys would want to see proof of my first juice box drink,” Natasha says. “Would you want to take a picture?”

“Absolutely,” you agree.

You get your phone out and point it at her, but she takes it from your hands.

“I meant of us,” Natasha says. You were hoping that was the case.

You hold up the juice box and smile while Natasha does the same. You immediately text it to her. Admittedly, it’s a cute photo. You see her save it as your contact photo in her phone.

“It’s late,” you note.

“It is,” Natasha says. She stands from the couch as you stand with her. There’s a silence as she steps closer to you. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes please,” you say.

Natasha’s smile reaches up to her eyes as she takes your face in her hands and kisses your lips. It’s a soft, slow kiss. And it’s absolutely perfect.

“I’ll call you?” She asks.

“And text me too,” you reply.

She nods and you walk her to the door. She kisses your lips once more before she steps out onto the porch.

“Hey, you forgot your jacket,” you call after her.

“Keep it,” Nat says. “I’ll get it next time.”

You grin and watch as she gets in her car and drives off.

From that day on, Natasha never forgets to bring Taylor pink flowers. Even when she runs out of types she can get, she has Tony make her new variants.

And everything with Natasha is just right.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 7 months

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Halloween prompts year 2 day 23

Au where Danny hides his powers and eldrich nature from his husband Tim and Tim hides his vigilante career from Danny.

Both are very successful and neither suspects a thing. Tim had originally planned to admit to being a hero at some point but they were always either interrupted or it just wasn't the right time and then Danny had mentioned a few times during thier engagement and marriage that he couldn't handle being with a superhero or vigilante and that it was a deal breaker. Unfortunately Tim was already deeply in love and couldn't bare to break up with him so now he lives in fear of Danny finding out and blackmailed the rest of the family into never letting it slip.

Danny is in a similar situation, ever since the portal incident people were afraid of his other half and no matter how hard he tried they always ended up hating him. He loved Tim and couldn't bare the thought of his husband having that same look of terror. Of hate. So he hid. Its all he could do. Back when he and his friends went on that road trip and gained the power of the reality gauntlet he had tried to undo his undeath entirely only to find out Danny had glitches spacetime enough that even if he undid it (which the gauntlet was incapable of doing) he would eventually wind up with the portal opening up on top of him at another date. Call it fate or destiny or whatever you like. He was stuck like this.

So he did the next best thing. He erased any proof he had ever existed. Even from the minds of his own friends. He then skipped town-or in this case universes- and used the gauntlets power to carve out a false identity in this new world full of heroes and hope

Luckly there was no one who could rat him out...until some blond guy in a trenchcoat started following him around the grocery store and talking to him. At first Danny was a little confused and annoyed but when he asked what the blond guy wanted he asked, "I wanna know what you are." And Danny went pale.

Constantine then proceeded to blackmail Danny into helping him with a case or else he would expose his dirty little secret to Tim.

Danny made the a deal, ensuring that it would only be this one time. He told Tim that he was being blackmailed but insinuated that it was something petty between him and some of the other high society house spouses. The kind of drama that Tim always made extra sure to steer clear of. He swore to Tim he was this close to spiking Bethanys muffins with a laxative in retaliation for something and Tim gave helper suggestions for how to do it without being caught while they got ready for the day.

Ever since Alfred passed away it was up to Danny and a few other people to keep the Waynes from falling apart. Honestly, no one realized how much that man did until he wasn't around anymore.

To be fair he pretty much spoiled Tim by picking up after him to the point the man can't function after a few days. If Danny ever had to leave Tim alone for prolonged periods of time he would return to a giant mess and something burning in the kitchen.

Danny would clean, Tim would spew a fountains worth of apologizes, he would forgive Tim (as if he was ever mad in the first place. This just reaffirmed that Tim needed him to protect and care for him, making his core vibrate in happiness) then they would...reacquaint themselves. He nearly shifted forms the first few times this happened. That would be one heck of a way for Tim to find out about his ghost half.

Danny smiled, thinking about those memories. He truly adored Tim and couldn't imagine a life without him. He would just have to make sure this trench coated guy never came anywhere near his precious husband.

John would really like to know what this entity was and what it wanted with the Wayne brat. It couldn't really be in love with the kid, could it? He had personally seen these relationships work out before but there many more he had seen that hadn't. He didn't want to take that risk, so he needed to get close enough to evaluate the situation himelf.

#halloween prompts #dpxdc #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #fanfiction prompts #tim drake #brain dead #dead tired #red robin #yum #red robin dc #danny phantom x red robin #married brain dead #married dead tired #does Constantine know that the wayne are the bats in this? you decide #Constantine may have flirted with Danny at some point but danny shut that down fast. He was a monster but not a cheater.#Danny refuses to betray Tim

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angel-eyes05 · 1 year

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a spider in the snow

pairing: fem!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: you help rehabilitate an injured miguel after he returns from one of his late night patrols…in more ways than one

warnings: nsfw, fluff then smut then fluff, handjob (both m and f recieving), blood mention, an incy wincy tincy bit of angst

word count: 2.5k

notes: heyyyyy i've come back from the dead. i don't really write a lot of one shots so go easy on me for this one. just like every horny person on the internet, i’ve fallen head over heels in love with miguel o’hara. this is me giving into my impulses lmao. sorry if i do anything thats out of character idk him that well so just work with me here. i also don't know everything about nueva york and if names are different than here or something so im just gonna pretend they’re the same. if they are, great! if not, just go with it lmao. one more thing, despite being cuban i am a no sabo kid (rip me) so i had to use a translator for some of this so apologies in advance if some things aren't super accurate. ok lets get on with the show.

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Snowy nights in Nueva York have always been one of your favorite parts about moving up north. Seeing all the lit up buildings illuminated in the snow, all the people ice skating in Rockefeller Center rink just below your apartment window, the reminders of Christmas coming soon. It kept your heart warm against the freezing temperatures outside. You also loved the feeling of being able to bundle yourself up in blankets and hoodies, a mix of yours and your boyfriend’s, having an excuse to make hot chocolate, and finally being able to use the fireplace that normally laid dormant in the middle of your living room. The one con about the snow was when it would land on Miguel’s patrol nights. Your already nervous mind was only heightened by the added uncertainty of everything that could happen while he was out there. What if he got too cold while out there and it affected his ability to fight? What if it started snowing too hard and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to the apartment? You knew some of your concerns were probably dumb, but they felt serious to you.

This was one of those nights. One of the nights where you would sit on your couch, next to the cracked window, unable to sleep until you could see him come back safe. You flipped through the channels of the tv aimlessly, trying to find something to keep your mind off of the growing cold outside. You eventually turn it off after coming across the weather channel, claiming a snowstorm would be rolling into the city in about 15 minutes. Deciding there was nothing you could do about your situation, you walked over to your bedroom and wrapped yourself in your massive duvet to shield from the cold. Worries dashed around your mind about everything that could happen. Despite being verbally supportive about Miguel and his…hobbies, you really hated the idea of him sneaking out in basically pajamas almost every night to “beat up the bad guys” essentially. Even though he had explained everything to you by this point, having been dating for about three years now, you still couldn’t quite understand everything. Radioactive spiders? Corrupt businesses? Fangs and claws? Mutations? A multiverse? It was a lot to wrap your head around. But, despite all of this, all of your worries and concerns over Miguel, you stayed. Because you knew you didn’t start dating him because of his whole superhero business or whatever. You were dating him because you loved him. The real him. The way he would always press gentle kisses into the crook of your neck. How on his days off, you would be woken up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking in the kitchen just for you. How he would always whisper sweet praises to you while you would give him head. How easily he could be crumbled down beneath his rock hard exterior. The Miguel underneath the red and blue spandex. You dreamt of this as you slowly fell into a calm slumber. You fell asleep bundled up in all the blankets on your bed, arm outstretched to the opposite side the bed, almost as if you were reaching for something that wasn’t there.

After some time had passed, you’re not sure exactly how much, you were awoken by a thud coming from your bathroom. You lazily rubbed your eyes and grabbed your alarm clock to check the time. 3:47 am. Yeah, that’s definitely Miguel in there. You dragged yourself out of bed to help him out, throwing one of this hoodies over your tank top for extra warmth. You also liked how it still smelled like him after three times in the wash. You opened the door, eyes squinting from the bright fluorescent light. And there he was. You found it endearing. How Miguel was trying, and failing, to reach this massive scratch on his back to clean it instead of just waking you up to ask for your help. You look to the floor to find a bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting there on the rug, probably what caused the thudding sound. You stood there leaning in the doorframe, waiting for him to notice you, even though he probably already heard every step you’ve taken from the bed up to the door now. “You need any help there?” you ask him, jokingly. You had seen him in much worse conditions, so you took moments like these to be more comedic, an attempt to lighten his mood sort of. It didn’t usually work. “No, I got it. Please go back to sleep,” he said, still attempting to wrap his arms around himself. You rolled your eyes and walked over to sit behind him, picking up the hydrogen peroxide off the floor and grabbing a couple of cotton balls from the first aid basket. “Mi amor, please go back to sleep, I promise I can do this by myself,” he argued. Before he could get another word in, you poured some of the hydrogen peroxide over his wound. He groaned in response and squeezed your thigh to help level out the pain. “That’s for worrying me all night,” you said to him, just over the volume of a whisper. As you began to dab the blood off of his cut, he responded. “You know I don’t want you to worry.” Once you could see he was turning his head around to look at you, you turned your eyes away. You didn’t really want to look at him right now. It’s not that you were mad at him. Ok that’s a lie, you were a little mad. But it was more of a helplessness you felt when you would see him like this. Beat up, cut, scratched, bruised. And there wasn’t anything you could do to help. Not until after at least. And it wasn’t like you were a trained nurse or anything. You dreaded the day that he would come stumbling through the window, too injured for you to take care of yourself. Or worse. The day he wouldn’t come home at all. “Yeah, well that doesn’t mean I don’t,” you said sort of coldly. You stood up from your position, waiting to patch up his back until after he showered. You changed your positions to sit from behind him to in front, ready to take care of his front side now. “I don’t want to talk about that right now tho-.” You cut yourself off when you finally saw his face

Cuts were scattered across his face, one above his eyebrow still dripping blood catching your attention first. He also had a bruise quickly forming on his left cheekbone. Once you moved your eyes more, you saw his nose marked with a deep cut going through the middle. His beautiful nose. It was one of your favorite parts of his appearance. Done scanning his face, your eyes moved down to his chest and his torso. His chest was marked with similar cuts to the one on his back. You kept your eyes on his chest in an attempt to hide the fact you were holding back tears right now. “I’m sorry mi cariño. I really am.” You knew he was. But sorry wasn’t going to keep him safe. This was one apology among many. It didn’t really matter. He wasn’t sorry for getting hurt again and again and again. He was sorry for the fact you had to see him like this. If you wouldn’t have seen that he was injured, he wouldn’t have said anything And you knew after this apology as well, he would go out tomorrow night and do the same thing over again. You didn’t respond to his words. All you could manage to do was pull him into an embrace and apologize when he winced from your hands hitting his cuts. You sat there for a bit, running your hands through his hair and trying to hold yourself back from crying. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted gentle kisses there, each a little apology from him. Once you finally pulled away and wiped your face, you started to clean the scrapes on his face, this time more gentle than his back. You dabbed the cotton ball on his forehead as he held you straddled on his lap. He admired your features as you concentrated on him, rubbing your back with his fingers in the process. You didn’t say much, only a simple “sorry” if you were a little too rough with cleaning. Despite the stern face you were putting on, Miguel knew you secretly liked the way he would grab at your thighs and hips with his claws when you did something that hurt.

Once you were finished, you silently put the first aid equipment away and left the bathroom so he could take a shower. He planted a soft kiss into your forehead before you left the room. Once you crawled back into bed, you sighed to yourself. How did you end up here anyways? There’s no way you were expecting all of this when you first saw Miguel at the concert bar that day. Some days were amazing with him. Others were much harder. And while you’ve definitely had worse days with him, today was leaning on the latter option. You contemplated all of this until you heard the door to the bathroom behind you open, Miguel stepping out of the steaming room with his towel wrapped around his lower body. You were very quickly reminded of one of the reasons you’ve stayed with him for so long. The way his wet curls were laying around his head. How his chest glistened while it was damp, despite currently being tattered with cuts at the current moment. He sleepily shuffled over to the bed, dropping his towel before crawling up close to you in bed. The warmth of Miguel’s freshly showered body against yours helped to melt the majority of your worries away. It also helped that you could feel his his cock getting harder against your leg while he cuddled against you. You finally turned around to face him, cupping his jaw in your hand and rubbing your thumb across his face. He grasped your hand and pressed soft kisses into it. “I love you so much Miggy,” you finally said, breaking the silence and drawing his eyes towards you. “I really do, and I’m sorry if I ever make it seem like I don’t. You just…you scare me sometimes.” You quickly realize those weren’t the words you meant. You begin to stutter and take back your words a bit, until you see that Miguel has given you his full attention. You take a deep breath and continue. “You don’t scare me. It’s more of what you do that scares me. I never know when you’re gonna come back or if you even are. If you think I take joy in taking care of you after you come back, I really don’t. I hate seeing my boy like this. And it makes me scared that one day you’re gonna come back in a shape I can’t fix. It scares me so bad Miggy you don’t even know,” you say, choking back your tears. Once Miguel notices you’re about to start crying, he wraps his arms around you immediately. “Shhh it’s ok preciosa,” he comforts as you quietly cry into his broad shoulders. “I’m so sorry for making you worry,” he says in between kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I love you too.”

You pull away from his hug and stare into his beautiful crimson eyes as he wipes away your tears. You suddenly fall into the overwhelming urge to kiss him. He returns the kiss with even more passion than you put into it. You quickly found yourself exploring his body with your hands, moans escaping his lips whenever you would graze over one of his wounds. You drew yourself closer to him to absorb more of his body heat, though you were quickly reminded of his bare cock as you could feel it hardening on your leg. Your hands eventually made it down there, teasing Miguel along the way as you felt him up on the way down. You then took his hard, already wet cock into your hands, caressing every ridge you could find on it. You could hear more moans exit his mouth and slide into yours as you handled him like putty. He would let out messier sounds, even a growl at one point, and jerk forward into your hand when you would tease around his tip. “F-fuck baby. Y-you’re s-so good to me. ‘N pr-retty too,” he would blurb out Feeling his cock get increasingly hard in your hand began to make you slightly wet as well. This only increased as Miguel began to take off your underwear as well, sliding two of his fingers into your pussy and placing his thumb to draw circles onto your clit. Your grip on his length becomes lazy and sloppy as you’re stimulated as well. You’re surprised at how quickly Miguel is able to find your clit, but then again you expect him to know your body so well after three years. After both of you have been at it for a while, you’re the first one to get close to your orgasm. “Fuck M-Miggy, I-I’m gonna cum,” you manage to moan out. His kisses on you get sloppy as he reaches his as well. It’s over for you once he begins to put more pressure onto your core. You let out an inhuman noise as your stomach fills with the white heat of your orgasm, shaking your entire body. Miguel takes his fingers out of your entrance and licks your cum off of his fingers. It’s then over for him when you eventually put the pressure of your fingers onto his cock. You hand is then covered in his cum once he reaches his climax in your fist, moaning intensely into the air. While he’s in the middle of his orgasm, his claws pop out of his fingers and into your hips and underneath your thigh where his hands are placed. Then, he lets out his fangs and uses them to leave hickeys into your neck, making sure not to let out any of his poison while doing so. “Just stay here with me Miggy,” you sigh out, his fangs deep into your neck. “You don’t ever need to go back out there again. Just stay here with me forever.” He simply nods at first, still sucking into your neck. Once he lets go and and begins to calm down, he responds with “Forever and always mi corazón,” whispering the words into your ear as he lays more kisses along your collarbone and neck.

You stare outside the window at the falling snow, hoping this time he’ll keep his word, but knowing deep down that he wasn’t going to. But for now, you could just appreciate your time with him now. He was all yours right now. Everything. And that was enough.

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A/N: uhhhh sorry but i didn't feel like proofreading this cause its super late for me rn sorry not sorry lmao

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #x reader #smut #marvel smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse

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night-daily · 10 months

Text

Jealousy jealousy | Peter Parker x fem! reader

Summary: 3 times where Peter hears you fangirling over Spiderman and one time he finally explodes.

warnings: none.

a/n: enjoy and let me know if there's any mistakes please!:)

The first time, he overheard you talking to your friends, was an accident, he didn't on purpose it just happens every time he sees you, he has no control over his senses. And he doesn't realize he's eavesdropping until you say something that brings him back to reality.

“... I think he's hot.” whoa, were you talking about him? Nice. “I mean, have you seen how athletic he is?” fuck, it wasn't him. Yeah, he participates in P.E class but he has to pretend he isn't good at it so you or anyone else wouldn't get suspicious. So it couldn't be him.

Peter turned his face away from you, feeling insecure. You were dumping him? Who was this guy?

“Hey, what are we talking about?” One of your friends came to the table you and your friends were eating.

And of course, Peter needed to hear the name of the guy.

''I'm masochistic?''

“Spider man!” You exclaimed with a smirk on your face making your friends groan. His heart stopped for a second. “Again?” Your friend rolled playfully her eyes to you. And you nodded with your head cheerily.

Peter felt his body relax at your words. So you like Spider man uh? Only if you knew Spider man likes you too.

The second time, the two of you are in his room, he sitting at his desk doing homework while you are doing yours in his bed. Well, you got bored doing the homework so now you were just rambling stuff about your classes, your friends, and...

“Hey, have you heard about Spider man?” Peter's body froze. “You know, the Superhero.” He hums in agreement, incapable to make a comment. “I heard some people show up at the crime scenes just to watch him in action.” And Peter dislike that people, they could get hurt and they didn't even care, and for what? just to watch him? “Yeah, that's crazy.” He expected you to agree with him, but you were quiet. “That's crazy, right?” He turns his chair to look at you, but you were avoiding his eyes. “... I don't know, to be honest, I would like to watch him in person too, even a glimpse of him.” Now he was seeing red. Why would you do that? Why would you put your life in danger for someone who you don't even know? Why would you do that for Spider man?

He couldn't help but feel a hole in his chest, it was a heavy and ugly feeling, he had never felt something like that. Jealousy. “What’s so good about him, anyway?” Peter muttered, turning himself, and ignoring the smile that crept across your face.

The third time, you were getting ready to hang out with your friends at the new coffee shop, doing your makeup you saw Peter through the mirror leaning against the doorframe of your room.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” your teasing smile sent butterflies to his stomach. “Why would I want a picture? If I have you all for myself.” He came closer to you from behind your back, placing kisses on your naked shoulder. “Oh, you're lucky that I haven't met Spider man then.” He stopped kissing your shoulder “Please, go with him if you like him so much” You turned your face to him. “I'm kidding Pete, I already have you and I love you so much.” You squeezed his hand. “Also, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't notice me, I bet he dates models”

He didn't know why he was more upset, you doubting how beautiful you are or assuming that Spider man wouldn't notice you. But you were wrong in both assumptions.

“You are the fucking prettiest girl I've ever met and anyone would be so lucky to share the same oxygen you breathe because I know I am.” And he smashed your lips, it was a passive-aggressive kiss. “I'm lucky too.”

And the one time he finally explodes, Peter was resting in his bed after a long night patrol when you crossed the door excitedly.

“PETER YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT” Oh, sure he did. “What happened, love?” He played fool. “So, remember when you dropped me at the corner of the street? Well, guess what!?” You made it a short pause not giving him the chance to respond “SPIDER MAN WAS THERE TOO” He gasped. “No way!” You grabbed your phone and unlocked it “AND HE GAVE ME FLOWERS. NOT JUST THAT, TULIPS, MY FAVORITES” You showed him the photos of you and your tulips, you looked so happy and that makes him happy too. “He shouldn’t go after other people’s girlfriends” He half-joked. You laughed “Maybe after all you have a rival” He wasn't smiling anymore “I mean, who gifts tulips to a complete stranger? Maybe he likes me? OH MY GOD, SPIDER MAN LIKES ME! WOULD YOU IMAGINE US TOGE-” “Babe, I'm Spider man!” Peter cuts you off. He couldn't stand anymore hear you falling for Spider man. But how would you react? Would you hate him for keeping it secret?

“I knew it!” He was shocked “Wait, what?” you shrugged “Honey, you aren't that subtle.” Now, if you knew it, why you had never told anything to him? “I never told you anything because I kind of enjoy you being like this and I want to know how much you could take it before admitting you were jealous and you were Spider man.” Peter blushed “I never would have thought I’d ever be jealous about me.” You winked at him “Oh, jealousy looks good on you.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker tasm #peter tasm!

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kaciebello · 3 months

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Love accusations

Masterlist

George Weasley x Gryffindor! reader (fem)

Summary: 3 instances where you deny dating George, and the one where you don’t. Much to Fred's dismay.

warnings: Mention of sex, swearing, no use of y/n

Authors note: one-shot. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

Word count: 3k

A pair of Gryffindor sat on a sofa in a secluded part of the common room. The two had previously worked on their charms homework together, however, one had seemingly finished and moved on to a book, while the other one took avoiding it as his main mission in life. However, any attempt to get a reaction from the girl goes unnoticed by her. Disappointed he returned to doing his homework. They both fail to notice his twin approaching with their friend.

“You two ARE having sex!” Fred yells making some heads in the common room turn in their direction with curiosity. George jumps a bit in shock and looks at his brother. eyes widening.

“Really? George, why didn't you tell me? I would have put my book down.” Says the girl lazily not even attempting to put her book down. She was not even bothered enough to pick up her gaze from it or bothered by her friend's antics.

“ We are not!” George argues back as Fred and Lee sit down opposite the couple. That however goes flat to their ears. Because if there is something Fred loves more than testing his brothers, it's teasing his twin brother.

“Fred, the only people having sex here, are the characters in my book.” She says, turning to another page. George leans over and tries to peek whether that is true or not. The girl shuts the book with a loud bang and places it gently on the table. Now finally giving all the attention to the overly loud Gryffindor duo. Lee's hand reaches for the book but she just swats it away.

“What do you want.” She asks.

“I want, you two to admit you're dating.” He says pointing a finger between her and George.

“Not gonna happen Fred.”

“Why not?”

“ Because we are not dating, easy as that.”

“Bullshit!” Fred yells and slams his fist onto the coffee table. She leans back into the sofa and just shakes her head dissapointly. Kicking her feet up on the coffee table and crosses her hands over her chest.

“You have no valid argument, Fred. I will not debate this with you if you have no evidence.” She says looking into Fred's eyes, knowing damn well it will fire the boy up. He narrows his eyes at her and nods as if telling her he will play her little game. Quickly he turns to Lee and they start whispering sometimes glancing at the pair. The two of them made it look like they just thought of a groundbreaking strategy in quidditch.

“ You know what you're doing, right?” George leans back and looks at the girl. Giving up on the homework at this point. She just smirks and nods. Lee and Fred turn back and simultaneously clear their throats.

“We have proof.” He says seriously and pokes Lee in his side with his elbow. The girl just raises her eyebrow before motioning them to continue. Lee sits up straight.

“ I have seen you two almost kiss in the corridor before.” He says very proud of himself. Fred started franticly nod and a smile spread across his face. Gorges's eyes widen a little at this information. The girl, however, remained unphased.

“ You can't prove that it was us. I could have been anyone.” She argues back, looking at her nails, seemingly bored. Fred's smile flatters a bit before he jumps up.

“I CAN RECOGNISE MY FACE ANYWHERE!” He yells and points at the girl. She just lifts her gaze and him.

“You didn't see us tho. Lee did. Hence, could have been anyone.” Fred's and George's faces snap to Lee who gulps very loudly. Looking nervous between the two brothers and the girl. Lee felt like in the front line of a war.

“ We walked together to the library after tho.” He says.

“ You walked together to the library after!” Fred repeats seeing this as his victory. Placing his hands on his hips and making a superhero pose. The girl just sighs and takes her legs off of the coffee table.

“ Are you jealous about me almost kissing George? Fine. I can almost kiss Lee if you want. Even you if you desire so much.” Whine leaves Geroge as Fred and Lee watch the girl in confusion.

“What.”

“You heard me, Weasley.” She says before getting up from her comfortable spot. Both Lee and Fred move a few inches back. She just chuckles and goes to pack her things. George sees this and goes to do the same.

“Plus it couldn't be me kissing George, as I fancy someone else.” She says after picking her book from the table and placing it in her bag.

“You do?” Say all 3 boys at the same time. She just rolls her eyes at their antics and turns to leave. George hurriedly followed her.

“ Where are you going?” Fred asks as both of them get up and move toward the exit. She just flashes him a smile.

“ To almost kiss your brother in the corridor.”

—

The four of them were on their way to Hogsmeade. The snow as fallen in a thick layer and all there was to do was some shopping. The twins wanted to buy some trinkets from Zonks, while Lee and the girl had only butter beer on their minds. Walking swiftly to get from the cold and hoping their younger siblings don't catch up on them and they would be forced to take them with. Fred and Lee led the group, while the other two were falling behind. Fred and Lee could be heard from miles away. George opted for a much quieter conversation with his partner.

“ When are we going to tell him?” asks George the girl next to him. “Don't get me wrong, it's hilarious, but I miss holding your hand.” He continues and his hand brushes over hers. Although he dubs she could feel it over her gloves. To be fair, George finds it as much fun as she does. He just sometimes misses her despite being right next to her.

“You can hold my hand whenever you want to, but, It's too much fun, it's like he's obsessed.” A smile spreads across her lips as she stops her movements and looks at the boy. He also stops and looks at the girl. Her hand extends to him as a gentle offering. He takes it as fast as he can. Walking closer to her, he places his other hand on her cheek. Smile adored both of them, as George leaned in, Smack.

Crumbs of snowball have fallen on her face, a giggle escaped her. George wipes his head around to see his brother and friend both with loaded-up snowballs. Before he can react, two more hit him. Effectively stunning him.

“OI! Hurry up you lovebirds!” yells Lee before he and Fred run in the direction of Three Broomsticks. George just curses and runs behind them. Leaving the girl to leisurely walk and meet them there.

When she got here, all of them had already shed their outdoor layers and had butterbeers sitting in front of them. One was in a space next to George waiting for her. She took her scarf and coat off. Something perked up Fred's attention.

“Is this your way of telling us?” He says pointing between her and George.

“Telling you what?” She asks, sitting down. Not even being able to take a sip of her drink before Fred spits other nonces.

“That you two are together.” Lee is however faster and suppresses his friend in the explanation. The girl just rolls her eyes before taking a sip. A foam mustache forms on her upper lip that she quickly wipes with the sleeve of her sweater. Momentarily stopping to progress something.

“ Guys, we have been over this.” Defends George this time. Fred just narrowed his eyes at him before pointing at the girl, who was still frozen.

“Explain this then!” He says and grabs the sleeve of the sweater she was wearing. “ This is your sweater!!” Sudden touch wakes the girl up and she retracts her hand.

“Again Fred, you can't prove that.” He looks at her in disbelief, lost for words from the sheer audacity of this girl. Groan leaves George and Lee is just laughing at his friends' antics.

“Oh? So the giant G on the front doesn't mean anything?” Recovers Fred rather quickly. George chokes on his butter beer and Lee goes to pat him on the back. The girl looks down and stretches the sweater. There is indeed a giant G on it. No dubbed Mrs. Weasly work as always. She wondered if she did it to help herself to keep track of whose laundry she was doing.

“It's just a G, could mean anything.” leaves her.

“G for George.”

“ Or G for Ginny, ya know? Your sister.” She says, raising her eyebrow at him.

“Why would you have my sister's sweater?” he asks accusingly. She just shrugs and takes another sip from her drink.

“ Why would I have George's one? I don't like him like that.” When she says it like that it makes sense for her to have Ginnys' sweater more than Georges.

“So you do like him!” Lee jumps on the accusation train. Another groan leaves George and he finishes his drink.

“Just how I like you, and Fred, and Padma, and Harry, And-”

“ Okay, okay, I get it.” Freds gives up and takes a sip. A smirk spreads on his face. “ So tell us, who do you fancy?”

“Hmmm, well, truth to be told, he's a Gryffindor, tall, and very cheeky and his name is- WELL would you look at that! I will get us another round.” She says and gets up from her spot. Knowing better than to take Fred's bait, she walked away to the bar. She can hear Fred turning to Lee and George.

“I'm telling you it's George, You can't fight me on this one!” Georges's giggles are heard throughout the tavern. “ Motherfucker, you ain't telling us shit!”

—

A scream is heard throughout the burrow, together with fast steps going down the stairs.

Harry, Hermione, and Lee turn to the sound startled. The 3 Weasleys, however, not even looking up from their card game. Fred places one card down making Ginny frown and carefully study her own. Ron just curses under his breath.

The girl appeared first with the other twin on her toes. She stops in front of the group, eyes gleaming with victory. George stops once he notices the other people, opting to just stand behind her.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asks, Placing her own card down without even looking. Ron curses again and tries to peak at Harry's cards. He just presses them to his chest, preventing him.

“Yeah, why?” The girl asks, clearly out of breath from running from the much faster boy behind her.

“ The scream?” Harry says, not really sure he wants to join the conversation. She just waves her arms at them.

“Oh no, don't worry. It's something George did.” The boy behind her straightens at his name. Looking at his sister who seemed to be winning the game with almost no effort.

“ Oh Merlin, he finally did it. He showed her the birthday suit.” Fred says.

“and it was SMALL.” Followed Lee, Fred's head snapped to his friend, he took full offense to that. Hemione's face twists in disgust. A small ‘ew’ can be heard from Ginny before she places another card on the table. Ron makes a fake gaging sound and George had nothing better than ‘dude’. The girl laughs at this.

“Oh Lee, I love you so much,” she says and goes to hug him. George whines and stops her by grabbing her upper arm.

“I can confirm that is not true mate.” Says Fred with full confidence. George just shakes his head. Hermione decided to force her cards on Harry, who was not very happy about it, and got up.

“I'm going to make some tea, you want some?” She says to the girl, she just nods and follower her to the kitchen.

“ Count me in!” Says Ginny as she places her last card on the table, successfully winning the game. Her brothers and friends just groan. Ron looks like he might cry at this point.

The girls moved to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was looking out the window, watching her older sons and husband work in the yard. She notices them walking into the kitchen and smiles at them. Ginny mentions something about tea and the girls sit down. After some time and bickering over what does and does not belong in tea, steaming cups were sat before them. Hermione breaks the silence.

“So, when are you gonna announce it?” Confused look from the girl, Mrs. Weasly just glances at them, seemingly paying them no mind. While she may be facing the window, her years are very much facing the three girls sitting at her dining table. Because be assured if something is going on with her children, under her roof, she is bound to know. The girls didn't even have time to answer before Ginny jumped in.

“Wait, are not just pretending to not know in front of Fred?” She asked, confused as well. Hermione stops putting sugar in her tea and fully turns to the girl. She grabs her hands into hers and looks her in the eyes.

“Are you?” The girl grows nervous. Curse Ginny and her watching people skills.

“I have no idea what you're on about Hermione.” she says with a full chest, then leans in and whispers.” Let's not talk about it in front of his mum!”

“Stop whispering, we all know something is going on between you and George. I know my brothers, and I know when they have that lovesick look.” Ginny blows on her tea before taking a sip. Somehow she manages to give both of them a pointed look.

“I know what you look like with that look too, don't start Ginny.” says the horrified girl, still not comfortable that Mrs. Weasly is there. Ginny goes red and just looks away. Speaking of the older woman, she turns to them.

“ Who has a lovesick look?” She asks with a smile that feels a little bit too threatening to all of them, although others may see it as the sweetest one.

“You when you look at dad. What is he doing anyway.” Ginny says hoping to change the subject. The older woman just huffs, turns around, and looks out the window again. Ginny leans forward to the other two before she whispers.

“I'm just saying, let it really be my sweater you borrow next time.” A smirk on her lips when she retries. With the corner of her eye, she sees her brother trying to catch a glimpse of the embarrassed girl.

—

“Source?” Lee asks.

“ Dude, trust me,” Fred answers.

“ You know I am physically unable to do that.” The two boys were hiding behind a bush. Good view of the pair sitting on the bench.

“ I too was advised, not to trust you.” Pipes in Collin, who was dragged into this mess by an accident. The poor boy wanted a picture of that tiny firework Fred had, instead, he dragged him to this when he refused to let him borrow his camera.

“Collin, this is the talk. This is the news! I need you to take a picture of them when they kiss.” Says Fred, a creepy grin on his face. Collin scared a bit just nods his head and gets in position. After a few good minutes of spying, Fred gets impatient and turns to Lee.

“Should we find a better spot? My feet kinda hurt from squatting.” He says but then a shutter goes off. A little photo comes from the camera and Fred grabs it.

“AHA, GOT YOU!” he jumps out waving it in the air and running to the startled couple. Scaring the couple that jumps away from each other a little. Lee and Collin follow behind him.

“What are you on about Fred?” Asks him, George. Still holding the girl that had her legs on his lap.

“ YOU TWO! KISSING! I GOT PROOF!” HE yells and shows them the picture. The girl just grabs it and looks at it. Fred is jumping up and down, hugging Collin and then Lee. Victory celebration. The girl gets up and walks to the poor younger Gryffindor. George is pulled up by Fred and forced to join a jumping hug.

“Hey Collin, can I keep this?” She asks the boy gently. He just nods, seemingly scared of the situation. The girl turns back to the three overgrown babies smile on her face. She can no longer argue about proof, as she was holding one in her hand. She turns to Collin again and tells him he can go. The boy just nods and runs away as fast as he can, very much terrified of his upperclassmen.

George wiggles out of the hug and makes his way to her. Cheers can be heard from his brother and friend. When they meet again, George stops right in front of her. One of his hands finds her waist and the other on her neck. They stay like this for a few seconds seemingly in their word, not noticing the cheers dying down. He leans in, their lips brush, when...

“Not in front of me Forge!” Yells Fred with the girl in his arms, running away with laughter, followed by Lee. George was frozen in his position, the girl missing from his arms. George shakes his head at his brothers' antics. Now that he looks at it, maybe living in denial wasn't the worst thing. Because if there is anything his twin loves more than teasing other people, is teasing him.

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such-expensive-mistakes · 6 months

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Superpham AU (part 7)

Masterpost

A short one today, but I thought this section was funny (until it got sad again).

-----

It’s a quiet evening in the Lane-Kent household: Lois is trying to turn her notes into an article, Clark is going over Jon’s math homework, and Jon is watching a show Lois is only half-following. It features lots of gunfire and explosions, though Lois’s— unfortunately extensive— experience with witnessing real violence makes the version on TV look cartoonish. She suspects that is part of the show’s appeal.

Danny is paying about as much attention to the TV as Lois is, engrossed in something on his phone. At least he’s in the same room as the rest of them, instead of sequestering himself away.

“Hey Lois?” Danny suddenly asks.

Lois looks up from her work. “What’s up?”

“Did you know the internet thinks you’re Superman’s girlfriend?”

Lois knows that if she looks at Clark, he’ll be turning red, the way he always does whenever this particular subject comes up. Lois herself is barely holding back a laugh. Jon’s wrinkling his nose, looking thoroughly embarrassed by his parents.

“Well, I am,” she says, barely keeping herself composed.

“No, I mean—” Danny begins.

“You mean people say that I’m dating Superman and married to Clark?” Lois glances at Clark, who is now hiding his face in his hands. “Someone forgot to check for cameras after rescuing me a few years back, and we got caught kissing on film. It was let people think Superman is a homewrecker or let them think I’m in a polyamorous relationship with my husband and his alter ego.”

“That’s… really weird.” Danny is giving her the kind of judgmental look only teenagers can give.

Lois does laugh at that. “It is, a bit. But it helps protect Clark’s secret identity, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Clark finally says. “There were other ways to handle that situation; she just thinks this is funny.”

“Even your parents think it’s funny,” Lois says. Clark just sighs, faux-aggrieved.

“It’s not even the weirdest thing on the internet about Superman,” Danny says. “It’s just the weirdest thing everyone agrees is true.”

“Please do not tell me what else you’ve found,” Clark says.

“You can tell me,” Lois says. “We can just make Clark leave for a bit.” Reading conspiracy theories about Superman is her guilty pleasure, though if anyone asks, she does it to keep tabs on anyone who might have a viable way of hurting him.

Danny just laughs, and something in Lois’s chest seizes up. Is this the first time she’s heard him laugh since he came back? She thinks it might be.

She doesn’t want to call attention to it; like as not, that would just make him pull away again. Instead she says, “Superman doesn’t even get the best conspiracy theories. Those are all Batman.” That’s because Bruce purposefully cultivates them, of course, but that’s not important.

“Which one is he, again?” Danny asks.

It’s not that Lois ever forgets that Danny has spent most of his life in another dimension. But little offhand comments like that… they really drive it home. There are plenty of superheroes, even Justice League members, that most of the general public has never heard of— but Batman is not one of them.

She's saved from answering by Clark.

"You'll meet him eventually," Clark says. "He's a good friend of mine. And Jon and Kon are close to his two youngest sons, Robin and Red Robin."

Danny nods thoughtfully. "Right. I think Red Robin's in the group chat Kon added me to."

Lois reminds herself to thank Kon next time she sees him. He and Danny seem to have connected, and Kon seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Danny from slipping too far into one of his funks again.

"Speaking of Kon," Clark begins. "Ma and Pa want to know when we'll be able to make it to Smallville to visit."

They've been trying not to overwhelm Danny by introducing him to too many new people at once, but maybe that was the wrong choice. Maybe they should be pushing him to get out more, to connect with this dimension. Besides, Kon spends most of his time in Smallville, and they already know that he and Danny get along.

Lois re-evaluates the article she’s been working on. Perry would probably appreciate it sooner rather than later, but if she turns in a smaller article this week, she can probably swing a weekend off. If not, she can always work on it from Kansas.

“This weekend should work,” Lois says. “If that’s alright with you, Danny.”

Danny looks a little surprised to be consulted. “I— yeah, that works. Not like I have anywhere else to be.” He laughs a little, but the joke falls flat, and Lois resolves to double down on helping Danny connect with more people here in this dimension.

#superpham au #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic

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stuckwthem · 3 months

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in the world of boys, he's a gentleman. | enzo v. (eng version)

summary: after watching you waste your time with other dudes, your best friend has some things to confess to you. pure fluff. a bit of angst.

you never thought riding in a dress on a bike would be such an exciting experience, but there you were, clinging to enzo's body and trying to keep your balance on the back of his bike while laughing like crazy.

to contextualize it, enzo had been your best friend for some time, ever since enzo had rented a room in your apartment two years, so living together inevitably turned into a genuine friendship. from time to time, your best friend and roommate was also your superhero. whether it was reading your mind when you were starving and didn't want to cook, or always coming home with your favorite sweets, or saving you from ambushes.

when your messages came on enzo's cell phone earlier, complaining about a date that was going from bad to worse with a slightly arrogant guy, he didn't hesitate to get up and hop on his bike to pick you up. the very idea of imagining you on a date with a horrible guy, and worse, a guy who wasn't him, made him nervous, so now you were in this highly unlikely but completely comical situation. he hadn't given you a choice.

"i can't believe i did that," you said, bursting out laughing, which enzo reciprocated by shaking his head. "imagine his face when he comes back to the table!".

"i'm so sorry for him", replies enzo with irony and a smile that indicates that no, he doesn't regret that he stole you from that douchebag.

"i bet you do" leaning your head on the brunet's back, you replied in the same tone. his body is warm and a little sweaty, but his scent is good and familiar.

enzo was riding the bike down the street, while you held on by wrapping your arms around his waist, the night breeze enveloping you. silence fell for a moment before you decided to break it.

"enzo, seriously, you didn't have to do that. it was going to be fine. it was going to last a few more minutes."

he chuckled, shooting you a corner glance. "well, judging by your desperation in the messages, i'd say 'fine' is a pretty generous word."

you snorted, feigning indignation. "i was dramatizing it a bit, you see."

"i know, i know. but honestly, i couldn't let my friend spend a horrible night with some idiot guy. after all, who else is going to put up with my stupid jokes?"

"oh, is that what i'm here for, a mate who'll put up with your jokes?"

enzo smiled, amused. "among other things, sure. but seriously, i wasn't going to let a guy get away with it one more time."

she rolled her eyes as if offended, but couldn't hold back a smile.

"where do you want to go?" she asked suddenly, leaving you a little confused.

"i thought we were going home," you shrugged.

"i can't let you go home so dressed up without having had a decent date!" enzo exclaims, turning his head slightly, allowing you to see his indignant expression.

you process what he just said and feel your heart skip a beat. he was either guessing things or....

"so we're going on a date?" is your automatic retort, and then, trying to disguise, you clear your throat, worried that you're reading the wrong lines.

maybe, in addition to roommate, best friend and occasional superhero, enzo was also a little crush of yours. one that you had tried to forget through terrible dates that always sent you back to square one: enzo. enzo, who bought you your favorite ice cream when you got your ass kicked when you first met, even though you never talked to him directly about your favorite flavor. enzo, who always waited for you at home with a movie session and a warm blanket. enzo, who always listened to everything you said. enzo, who was your weak point.

"if you want to call it that, we'll have a date, yes," he says, and involuntarily your hands tighten around his waist.

after a few minutes pedaling through the quiet streets, you realize the familiar, everyday route. maybe enzo has changed his mind. you really were on your way home and all your expectations had fallen apart. until, slowly, he stops, and the next thing you know, you're in front of a corner pizzeria. the same new pizzeria that had opened a few days ago near your house and the one you kept telling enzo about.

"pizza?" he asks as if waiting for your approval."

enzo holds out his hand for you to get off the bike and he follows you right away. it's funny how you contrast, while the older guy is wearing casual and simple clothes, you're dressed up in that stupid dress. inside your head, you curse the moment you agreed to go out with that idiot from before. he really didn't deserve all your prep, but enzo, wow. he really seemed to study every part of you and admire every aspect of you. from the most innocent way that some loose strands of your messy bun framed your face to the most indecent way he noticed how beautiful your legs looked in that tight dress.

the two of you had to sit outside, as it was crowded inside, and when you sat down at the small sidewalk table across from enzo, your best friend let out a long sigh as he stared at you. a sigh that said: finally.

"but to be honest with you now, you don't know what a relief it was to see you out of that restaurant," you confessed, with a light, hearty laugh.

"was the mood that bad?" the boy asked with an incredulous expression.

"there was just no mood! the guy went on and on about the life lessons he learned when his dad stopped giving him money for a month, or how i shouldn't feel special if he took me to his apartment after dinner. and we had just arrived!" you exclaimed in amazement at enzo, who suddenly looked serious. too serious. "he hasn't asked me a single question in 45 minutes!".

"what an asshole!" the brunet muttered, rolling his eyes. enzo's gaze turned away from you for a moment, following his own hand as he fiddled with the sauces and plucked pieces of napkin off the table. "why do you keep hanging out with guys like that?"

he asked, still not looking at you, and suddenly your blood boiled, rushing to your head. you took a deep breath, feeling a pang of disappointment hit your chest, not believing what enzo had just said.

"are you implying that it's my fault? i'm responsible for men being totally selfish and..." you close your eyes, involuntarily placing your hand against your own chest. indignantly.

"no! that's not what i meant, my love." enzo lifted his head quickly, meeting your gaze, hurt and betrayed.

he felt like a complete idiot, desperate at the way you were looking at him, not quite sure how to back down. he stood up straight in his chair, leaning over the table to reach for your hand, ready to defend himself when a waiter stopped right next to him.

"good evening, lovebirds! what can i get you?" the man asked, his tone friendly and cheerful, in contrast to the flaring tempers at the table.

you laughed wryly at the waiter's confusion, a regular occurrence whenever you went out together, and folded your arms, turning away from enzo.

"ahm, hello," he scratched the back of his head in bewilderment, and then realized he hadn't even looked at the menu. he fumbled over the pages, didn't know what to order, and suddenly looked lost.

"two pieces of marguerita, vegan option, please," you said, straightening up. "and a coke, with lemon, for him."

enzo looks at you anxiously as the man takes your order, his leg dangling under the table, brushing against yours unaware. the contact makes your whole body shudder, but you still don't look at him. the waiter leaves the table and announces that he'll serve you shortly.

"look, i'm not saying it's your fault. not at all, chiquita," he says, his voice low and his tone worried. you look at your nails, pretending to be indifferent. a little dramatic.

enzo sighs and brings his knee to yours. you squint, indifferent, while he moistens his lips as if trying to find the words on the tip of his tongue.

"i'm trying to tell you that you deserve better than these guys. you know it, i know it." the way he conducts what he says is slow and careful, he continues. "you deserve someone who really appreciates you, who sees all the amazing things i see in you. these dudes you go out with clearly don't see the amazing person in front of them and completely miss the opportunity to meet the best person they could ever have in life."

your eyes automatically rise as you hear what he says, and your lungs don't seem to perform their routine action. your lip trembles nervously. tears gather at the corners of your eyes, because you have to tell yourself that you're only saying that because you want his good, because that's what a best friend would say. and you have to wrestle with all those words before you go to sleep, swallowing all your feelings.

"you know, you're kind, incredibly smart, even if you still think you can beat me playing mortal kombat by pushing all the buttons at once." enzo continues, softening his lecture, making her laugh under her breath. "you're funny, talented, real. cute."

unable to resist any longer, you meet the brunette's gaze again, who gives you a small smile as he notices you slowly give in.

"not to mention your patience, especially when i decide to cook and leave the kitchen as a battlefield."

this time you can't contain the smile that spreads across your face, remembering the last time enzo had tried to prepare food. really, a denial for cooking.

"as a cook, you're a great actor," you mutter, which makes enzo chuckle and take advantage of the space you're leaving him.

"and when you have those creative bursts, writing or creating your own recipes. it's fascinating to see your mind in action, and i always wonder how someone can be so.... unique. how you light up wherever you go, how you make things seem so much easier when you're around and...".

enzo seems to be in the middle of a great discovery. he laughs to himself, shaking his head, as if he regrets having said all that and his eyebrows rise, almost in a gesture of desperation.

"got it," you say, a little sheepishly. your cheeks heat up and you suddenly feel like a teenager.

"anyway, i guess what i'm trying to say is that you're an extremely lovely person." enzo seems to relent, and his body softens in the chair. "and anyone who doesn't see that doesn't deserve to be with you."

his breath comes out as if someone has just punched him in the stomach. your hands run across the table, seeking his, which grasp your fingers gently. you say nothing for a long moment, during which the waiter returns and serves you in complete silence.

his confession gives the atmosphere another kind of tension. before you could respond, enzo averted his gaze, as if trying to escape the intensity of the situation.

"you know what? forget what i said. let's enjoy dinner and forget i said all that. what am i? shakespeare? don juan?" he joked, trying to lighten the situation by gesticulating exaggeratedly. he takes a sip of his coke, disguising his desperation.

"enzo," his name on your lips comes out as a plea. everything hits you at once. the awareness of his feelings, the awareness of yours. he shakes his head negatively and lets go of your hand.

"it's okay, you don't have to try to comfort me and tell me we're friends, i know. i've accepted it." enzo rushes over, running his hands through his hair, nervous.

"enzo," you tell him, firmer now. "why didn't you tell me before? why didn't you take me on a date before?".

he seems to be choking on his own breath, his nostrils flaring and his chest rising and falling rapidly. enzo looks at you with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. his eyes search yours, as if trying to read your expression and understand if those words were real. how can someone know you so well and not have a fucking clue?

"because i... i didn't know how. it was always easier to be your friend. to stay in the comfort of not risking too much. not to feel the rejection. taking you on a date seemed to cross some invisible line, and i was afraid of messing it all up".

he hid his face in his hands, laughing to himself. enzo looked on the verge of collapse, frightened. you had never seen him like this. you quickly got up, sitting down in the chair next to him, quietly touching his wrists.

"how stupid you are," you state, laughing. he looks at you with an offended and confused expression. "you really haven't noticed all this time?".

your best friend's face fills with something akin to expectation and dread. expecting the fatal blow at any moment.

"wait, you mean... that you..." he starts to stammer, but you interrupt him with a smile.

"yes, enzo. me too" your confession makes his face light up and then he blushes. was he really 30 years old? because you were making him feel like a kid.

"i never thought..." he murmurs, and you complete the sentence.

"that i could feel the same way? well, now you know. it was obvious." you laugh, moving a little closer to him. "how could i not fall in love with you?".

enzo feels your whisper on his lips, sending shivers down his spine. your warm breath mingles with his, uncertainty hovering between the two of you, unfamiliar territory to traverse. enzo's gaze examines your face, searching for any trace of indecision, but he doesn't find it, and then his eyes drop to your mouth.

"if only you'd let me show you all this sooner," he whispers too, as one of his hands, large and warm, rests on her thigh, under the thin fabric of her dress, and the other rests behind the back of her chair.

"you still have time"

and with your confession, it's as if he loses control. his pupils, darker and dilated now, are the last thing you see before you feel soft lips against yours. your breath is suddenly cut off and a shock runs through your body, shutting down your entire nervous system for milliseconds. he kisses you eagerly, as if making up for all the other opportunities he'd missed. the hand behind your shoulder moves quickly to the back of your neck and a gasp escapes you. his mouth tastes sweet, like cola and lemon mixed with his own flavor.

enzo can barely contain himself, the rest of the world ceases to exist when your tongue passes over his lips, as if asking for permission, and he almost rolls his eyes at the sensation. god, how he had dreamed of that. he had replayed it in his mind a million times and then blamed himself for it. he shook off the thoughts when he felt your fingers run over his scalp, while your other hand gently stroked his cheek. as if a tornado of emotions wasn't going on inside him at that moment. everything that had happened so far made this moment worth it.

after almost five minutes, the real world seems to return, as does the need for oxygen, useless, in enzo's perception. the sounds of the street echo in his ears again, everything slowly makes sense again. the world stops spinning as you look at each other with wide, goofy smiles on your faces. you bring your finger to the corner of enzo's lips, carefully wiping away the traces of lipstick. it makes him want to ruin the rest that remains on your beautifully delineated lips.

"so, what do we do now?" you ask, still a little limp, trying not to laugh. the feeling of kissing your best friend, something that had crossed your mind a million times before, seemed far away. in fact, it was something much better than you could have dreamed of.

"i suppose we could start with a first date," enzo suggests, feigning some nonchalance, shaking his shoulders. his fingers wander over your face, brushing aside a few strands of hair over your eyes. it's so sweet and peaceful that you want to treasure just that moment among all the others.

for the rest of the night, you eat that cold pizza like it's the best you've ever eaten. the rest of the dinner goes naturally, lightly, with kisses and sighs, conversations and confessions, like everything you needed. like everything was finally in place. a millennial alignment. it was so easy to be there, next to him, no need for masks or disguises, to be in front of him was to be able to see yourself from the inside out. without hiding anything, without any desire to run away. completely immersed in each other. it was like dreaming half awake. it was just perfect.

there were uncertainties, saved for the distant future, it was terrifying to lose that connection you had. but maybe it wasn't the right way, maybe it was unforeseen and completely chaotic, but it was the best and last first date of your life.

for my girlies who asked me to translate it, i hope you enjoyed <3

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic fluff

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allysunny · 16 days

Note

Hi! Can I pls request dating headcanons for Bale Batman with a female reader who used to works as his assistant but now helps Alfred with batman related work? Like reader is not a superhero but helps Alfred with his duty? Also reader is a very sunshiny person, kind and loving? Thank you ❤️

Lover's Liaison

Pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 5.7 words

Warnings: Lots of fluff, workplace relationship, kissing and making out, lots of fluff, lots of pining, idiots in love, suggestive themes and one mention of oral sex but nothing too explicit, use of the word "Batmanning", this was written on the span of 3 weeks so I'm sorry if it sucks or isn't coherent?? Not proofread omg I'm so sorry! If I forgot anything, do let me know!!!

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Oh my god!!! I finally got around to write this one request that I got mixed up a few weeks ago!!!! I love this dynamic so much and want this man to be my boss only for me to bring him coffee and massage his shoulders omg...

As stated in the warnings though, I am in the middle of my final evaluations and exams, so this was written over the span of like,, 3 weeks. I apologise if some things are not coherent or repetitive, I am trying my best but uni is kicking my ass.

Anyway, I'm sorry it took so long anon!!!! I hope you enjoy this <3

Being Bruce Wayne’s assistant meant a lot of things.

It meant you sometimes pulled all-nighters when your boss decided 8 hours of work simply wasn’t enough.

“Ah, I'm so sorry, but I'm busy that day,” you said sheepishly after Mr. Rivers from Accountancy asked you out for dinner.

“Come on princess, can’t you tell your big boss to give you a free night? A pretty thing like you shouldn't have to work that much. C’mon, let me show you how a real man should treat you.” He said, cornering you against a desk and inching his hand closer and closer to your waist.

You looked away uncomfortably, silently praying for him to sense your discomfort and walk away. You didn't want to hurt his feelings or make him mad. You were afraid he’d take it out on you, or worse, on Bruce, by causing harm to his company - and you couldn't have that.

“Mr. Rivers, I – “

“Chet, please. Do call me Chet.”

“Mr. Rivers,” you repeated, pressing uncomfortably against the desk, not wanting the man’s hands on your body. “Please, this is hardly appropriate. I must go back to my office, and – and – “

“I’m sure your boss will understand. You can’t possibly tell me he’s hired you for your skills now, can you? He understands you’re a pretty girl. Surely, he should've known someone would snatch you up, hm?” Mr. Rivers’s grin was catlike, in the worst way possible. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and tears welled up in your eyes at his insinuation. Surely that was not all Mr. Wayne had hired you for, right? He complimented you on your choice of clothing, sure, and he’d once or twice gifted you pieces he said he knew you’d look lovely on. But he had also more than once commended your work ethic, thanked you for your efficiency and praised your skills. He valued you as an employee, not just someone he could look at. Right?

“Actually, Mr. Rivers, I employ all of my workers based on their skills,” a voice boomed behind the accountant, firm and unwavering. Chet Rivers turned around only to be met with Bruce Wayne’s hard, stony gaze. “And it seems I clearly must've made a mistake with you, because if I had known you’d be treating my employees like this – especially my personal assistant, I wouldn't have allowed you to set foot in Wayne Enterprises. You disgrace my father’s memory by engaging in this type of behaviour inside the company he built.”

Mr. Rivers scrambled to find a reply, only to stutter a few times and shake his head, at a complete loss for words.

“Out. Now. I want your office cleared by the end of the day.”

“But – But Mr. Wayne, I – I have been in this company for years, I – “

“If your office isn't cleared by the time the clock strikes five, I will personally ensure you will never land another job again and carry around a note claiming you are a known sexual harasser. Are we clear?” Bruce said, eyes darkening.

“I – Sir – “

“The clock is ticking. If I were you, I'd make quick work of packing.”

With a few more incoherent words, the now ex-employee was out the door, and Bruce was slowly walking up to you. He gave you enough space to walk away, should you want to, but kept at a friendly distance, should you want him.

“Are you okay?” He asked in that sweet voice reserved for his closest people – you.

You nodded quickly, rubbing your arm in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn't want it to come to this, to you firing him. It really was nothing – “

“Nonsense. He was harassing you. You told him you weren't interested and yet he still pursued you. He should've known ‘no’ is a complete sentence and left you alone. Understood?”

You nodded once again, looking at the floor. Bruce walked even closer and lifted your chin up with your fingers, forcing you to look at him – and yet his grip wasn't bruising. It was soft, feather-like. Bruce touched you as if he was afraid you’d vanish right before his eyes. Maybe he was.

“It’s not your fault that he acted like an ass. Got it?”

Another nod.

“Say it for me.”

Your heart would always follow Bruce Wayne. You couldn't refuse anything from him, and so you found yourself whispering a soft “It’s not my fault”, which earned a smile from him.

“And you’re an amazing worker. You’re efficient and smart, and extremely kind. You're the best personal assistant anyone could've asked for. I hired you for your skills, not your looks. You're extremely competent. The only competent worker around here.”

You chuckled, familiar with that line.

“Understood?”

Another curt nod – this one more confident.

“Say it for me. Please.”

“I’m extremely competent.”

“That’s my girl.”

He then seemed to snap back to reality and let go of your face, stepping back.

“I’ll be in my office for the rest of the afternoon. If you want to, you can have the rest of the day off.”

This caused you to shake your head and smile confidently at him.

“No need for that. Gotta make sure I do my job, right? Otherwise, who else will?”

Bruce chuckled at this, and it made your heart flutter. “Exactly.”

“You haven't eaten yet, so I thought…” you shrugged, handing him the plastic salad containers.

“What would I do without you?” He asked, looking up from his computer to be met with the most dazzling smile.

“I’m not sure. But I'm glad I can help.”

“You eaten yet?”

“No sir, not yet.”

“Join me.”

You didn't have to be asked twice. You found Bruce’s presence relaxing, calm. You liked to be around him. Lunch breaks, just like overtime, allowed you to truly meet the man behind the suit, and you cherish that time with all your heart. It also allowed you to take a good look at him, at his handsome features, his strong jaw and hard eyes that could turn soft within mere seconds. At his lips, so often pressed into a straight line, but also capable of saying the kindest of words.

Unbeknownst to you, he also took these moments as an opportunity to drink in your beauty. The lovely curve of your face, your sweet lips that managed to brighten up his days, be it with your words or your laughter, the eyes he always looked for when he was nervous, the body he so wished to pull close and worship.

He was completely whipped by you. And yet he had no idea how to go about it.

He couldn't just ask you to date him – he was Bruce Wayne. Whoever he dated would be dragged into the public light, and he didn't want people prying into your personal life the way they did to his. Worse than that, he was your boss. He didn't want to taint his company's image by appearing to be some sort of creep who harassed his workers into sleeping or being in relationships with him. He was the boss, of course, and could smother any and all rumours and make sure his company’s image remained the same as his father would have wanted it to be, but most of all, he wanted to protect you. From the scrutiny of coworkers and papers and crazy paparazzi.

Little did he know, you’d go through all that trouble for him.

“Be mine,” he said, forehead touching yours as you caught your breath. “Please, be mine. I’m crazy about you, and I can’t keep pretending I’m not. You’re such an incredible woman, so brilliant and bright,” he mumbled, fingers drawing patterns on your skin. “I’m crazy about you. I know I shouldn’t, because I’m your boss, but I just can’t stop thinking about you. I know that I’m asking a lot from you, and if you’re not interested, then you can just say no. We can forget this has ever happened, and it won’t change the way I see you at work. If you want to quit, you can also do so, and I’ll give your next employer the best of recommendations. But,” Bruce lifted his finger to brush a strand of hair away from your face, “I just had to let you know how I feel.”

Although only a few seconds had passed, your silence seemed to extend for hours, and Bruce was ready to carefully put you down on the ground and throw himself off his window, never to be seen again. But when you placed both your hands on his cheeks, gazing into his eyes with a tenderness he hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing in years, he felt hope blossom within him.

“I am yours,” you replied softly, afraid that words louder than those would burst the small bubble of happiness you were hiding in. “I’ve been yours since the day I stepped foot in here. You have my heart, Bruce Wayne. All of you. The smart you, the cheeky you, even the arrogant you that sometimes belittles subordinates over their incompetence – but quickly makes up for it with heartfelt apologies, because that is what your parents taught you. But most importantly, you. The real one. I’ve been yours since day one.”

Bruce offered you one of his beautiful smiles, the genuine ones that had your stomach flipping over itself and leaned over again. You welcomed his kiss with a sigh of content, and a soft sound that sounded awfully a lot like a moan, which had Bruce grip onto you tighter and kiss you a bit rougher. He was tugging at your pencil skirt, and you were just about to make quick work of his tie, when the door to his office burst open.

Without a second thought, Bruce quickly covered your legs with his arms, and hid your face so whoever had just walked in wouldn’t be able to look at you. It was the least he could do to protect you right now, but it was either that or nothing.

“I see you’re quite busy, Mr. Wayne,” Lucius Fox’s voice boomed through the office, a cheeky tilt to it making it known that the sight before him was amusing rather than scandalous. “I’ll return later, if you want me to? Or perhaps, not at all. What if I fax you?”

Bruce chuckled and nodded towards his employee. He could feel your quickened heart rate speed up under the gaze of someone else, and while he felt sorry you two had gotten caught, he couldn’t hide just how adorable you looked, clinging to him like that.

“That’d be perfect, Lucius.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Miss.” Lucius said your last name before leaving and closing the door behind him. When your boss took one good look at your face, he felt the heat on your cheeks and neck, and laughed before pressing a kiss below your ear.

“How come Lucius came in here without knocking? Where the hell is my assistant?”

You smiled sheepishly and ran your fingers through his hair – something you’d always wanted to do. “I don’t you,” you mumbled. “Bet she’s slacking off.”

“I must disagree,” Bruce quipped back, “She’s the most hardworking woman I’ve ever met. No way she’s slacking off.”

“Then she’s probably making out with her boss.”

“Only because he’s crazy about her.”

“She’s crazy about him too.”

Life was perfect ever since.

You couldn’t be seen together for obvious reasons, but that didn’t keep Bruce from stealing you once or twice. Extended lunch breaks, pre-company meetings meetings, post-company meeting meetings, you name it. You’d be on his lap, lazily kissing his frown upside down, next to him, helping him with contracts and files that had been sent incorrectly (and that he could easily fix by himself, but he loved having you near him, and you loved to help), and once or twice he’d had you on top of his desk with him kneeling before you, or sprawled on his couch with he laid on top of you, helping him with that he claimed to be a performance check.

After a few rumours broke out that you had slept your way to the top, you asked Bruce to quit the company. The women in the company, who faked their sympathy and niceness to you because they were utterly jealous of your position as Bruce Wayne’s assistant scowled once you walked past them, giggling and calling you names. You’d tried to ignore them at first, but after the fifty-second “Whore”, you were a sobbing mess, crying on Bruce’s shoulder and begging him to fire you so you wouldn’t have to deal with that any longer.

How typical of you, Bruce thought. Willing to lose your job so someone else won’t have to, even if that someone else’s behaviour is unacceptable. He knew your reasoning though, knew that if he were to fire said women, it’d backfire on him, and all the rumours would be confirmed.

It was a terrible idea really.

But he was also Bruce fucking Wayne, and such things did not matter to him. So instead of firing you, he made his intentions very clear in front of pretty much the entire company at a special anniversary dinner, by kissing your breath away. You were stunned to say the least, when he loudly introduced you to everyone as his lovely girlfriend and said that should anyone have a problem with either him or you, they should take it upon themselves to talk to Bruce personally.

Later that night, he held you tightly in his arms and kissed your forehead, promising that he would never hide you or your relationship from the world ever again. You, on your hand, promised to not listen to the tabloids and the paparazzi.

That was the first time you confessed your love for him, which he eagerly confessed back, before he was tugging at your clothes and his lips were pressed to your neck.

One night, as you were leaving a restaurant with your friends, you were pulled to a dark alleyway and held at gunpoint. The attacker, a man you did not recognise, told you to call your rich boyfriend and started going on about how much he wanted for you. Bruce did not pick up, which made you panic, and made the attacker get even angrier. But before he could do anything about it, a dark figure emerged from the rooftop above you two and knocked the man to the ground.

You’d never seen Batman up close, but he was as intimidating as everyone made him out to be. He tied the man up, called the Gotham Police Department, and you could make out his gruff voice saying something about a Chief Gordon. He then looked at you, and you felt so small, so vulnerable, so weak. Here you were, an insignificant nobody, being saved by Batman. Batman, of all people, who probably had more important things to do other than rescue nobodies like yourself.

But the gentleness in his voice as he asked, “Are you okay?” snapped you out of your trance. Gone was the intimidating vigilante. Before you, stood someone who seemed to care about you and your wellbeing. You nodded and told him you were a bit shook up. He asked you to tell him exactly what had happened, and so you did, carefully going over all the details. Once you mentioned your boyfriend’s name, Batman seemed to wince. You did not understand why.

He took you home, and although you couldn’t quite tell what, there was something in Batman’s presence that made you feel safe, cared for. It was familiar, comforting to be near him. Like you’d known him all your life.

Bruce, on his hand, was freaking out. You’d been targeted because of him. Him. Him. Him. You were going to get hurt because of him. And he’d pay whatever fortune he had to just to keep you safe, but if you’d gotten hurt, he would never be able to forgive himself.

He spent a few more minutes outside, to make it less suspicious, and tried to act surprised when you told him how Batman had saved you.

You hid the details from him though, simply saying you were going to get mugged. You didn’t want to worry him – he was too preoccupied about your life together as it was, trying not to track down whatever assholes wrote those nasty pieces about you in the morning papers, and trying to focus on you instead of the photographer three tables down whenever you went out for coffee.

The two of you were idiots, really, trying to protect each other at all costs.

It only took a few days after the assault for Bruce to break, though. He told you everything, spilled all his secrets about Batman as if he were a sinner in church confessing all his sins. You were shocked, to say the least, but it all clicked in your head quite quickly. The comforting presence, the gentleness in Batman’s voice, the safety – it was all Bruce. Of course it was.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, “Please forgive me. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been there…”

“But you were,” you took his hands in yours, gripping them tightly. “You saved me, Bruce, and that’s all that matters. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re going to be fine.”

“It’s not safe for you. If anyone finds out about me, they’ll use you, they’ll get to you, and – “

“You managed to keep your identity a secret all this time. I’m sure you’ll be able to keep doing it.” You leaned towards him and kissed him softly. Bruce responded in kind immediately, taking you in his arms and kissing you with the passion of a man madly in love. His hands roamed your body, fingers deftly remembering every curve and arch and every place that made you whimper against his lips and tighten your hold on him. Within minutes, you were laying on your back, fingers tugging at Bruce’s hair as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you, promising – no, swearing to keep you safe forever and ever, declaring his devotion for you.

Some weeks after, he popped a question. Not quite the question, but a very important one nevertheless.

“Quit your job.”

“What?”

“Quit your job at Wayne Enterprises. I can take care of you. I will take care of you. Everyone knows we’re together, and as much as I don’t care about the nasty rumours and petty comments, you’re way safer here.” Bruce took your hand across the couch and rubbed circles on the back of it, thumb brushing against your knuckles. “Alfred and I found out who the attacker was. Remember Chet Rivers?”

“The accountant?”

“To say he was angry would be an understatement. He went after you because he knew it would hurt me. I won’t have this happen again. I love you so much and I appreciate everything you have done and continue to do as my personal assistant, but if this job puts you in harm’s way again, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

You offered him a sympathetic smile. It was so like your boyfriend to put you first in every situation.

“And what would I do?”

“Anything, as long as it wasn’t too dangerous.”

“I think everyone in Gotham knows me by now, Bruce. And according to your paranoia, that’d pose a threat.”

Bruce rubbed his jaw pensively and you scooted over, sitting on his lap and facing him.

“You worry too much,” you mumbled, stroking his cheek.

“Is it so wrong if I want to keep the love of my life safe?”

“Not at all. But I also need to live, you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just – I can’t stand the thought of losing you. You’re far too precious for that, and I’ve lost so many people – “

You interrupted him with a kiss, a tactic you found quite effective most of the times. He hummed and his breathing slowed as he relaxed.

“If it makes you feel better, then fine. I’ll quit.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I’ll find something else to do. Maybe I can even help Alfred around, you know. Be Batman’s personal assistant. You think he’s hiring?”

This earned a chuckle from Bruce, and a very tight hug.

“I’ll put in a good word for you.”

He did! And you got the job.

At first, you thought being Batman’s personal assistant (a title you wore proudly, even though it annoyed Bruce – after all, this had been achieved so you wouldn’t have to be anyone’s assistant, so you wouldn’t have to work) would be boring, but you quickly got the hang of it and, of course, excelled.

You tracked down which materials made his suit lighter, which ones made him faster, which ones weighed him down. You made lists of the combinations you and Bruce had come up with, to provide him with the perfect bland of speed and lightness, without making him too unprotected.

You took over Alfred’s position, giving the old man some respite as you communicated with Bruce through the intercoms, looking out for him, reminding him to take breaks and occasionally teasing him with the usual “Wanna guess what I’m wearing?” talk – Bruce would never admit this, but it made him patrol the streets quicker, eager to get home and find out just what you were wearing – or weren’t.

Most of the time, Bruce would beg you to go to sleep after he went on patrol. Most of the time, you wouldn’t hear any of it. You wanted to help your boyfriend wash the day off him, rub his sore muscles and kiss his forehead gently as he relaxed against your hold.

“What’re you still doing up?” he asked once, looking over at your figure on top of his bed. Instead of sleeping, you had your nose buried in some book you’d always wanted to read but had never found the time to.

“Waiting for you,” you mumbled, looking up and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Shouldn’t have done that. It’s late.” Bruce walked over to you, and you smiled lazily, lifting your arms so he would scoot over next to you. He did so, clad in a pair of shorts, his batsuit (courtesy of his loving girlfriend) long discarded.

“Didn’t want you to come home to an empty house. Wanted you to come home to a smile.”

“Coming home to you is enough,” he chided, playfully touching your nose.

“Bath?”

“Please.”

You prepared a quick bubble bath and got in after him, sitting with your chest pressed against his back as you washed his hair, massaged his scalp, and rubbed his sore shoulders and back. Bruce groaned a few times, finding your touch something close to a miracle.

“On your right – fuck, right there.”

You giggled at how his words sounded out of context, and got your thigh pinched in return.

“Hey!”

“I can tell you’re being dirty. Stop it.”

“Not at all,” you replied, “’m super clean right now.”

After you were both cleaned, Bruce took it upon himself to rinse you and wrap you in your fluffiest of towels. You were nearly asleep to be honest, eyes darting close every few seconds. Thankfully, your boyfriend would not let go, helping you stand up straight and keeping you from falling to the side.

You were extremely exhausted, and Bruce blamed himself for that, but he couldn’t lie – seeing you wait up for him, to make sure he was safe and sound warmed his heart. He hadn’t felt loved like this in a long time, and every day he woke up and thanked whatever deity was looking over him that he got to wake up next to the woman he loved.

It was domestic, in a way.

And it wasn’t like anything had truly changed – after all, you were still taking care of Bruce Wayne, and he was still taking care of you. It was only your circumstances that had changed. Instead of an office, you worked from home, your new home, Wayne Manor. Instead of bringing him coffee, you’d help Alfred around with cooking and busied yourself with your hobbies during the day, so you could help your husband with his duties at night.

And on his hand, Bruce protected you by protecting Gotham.

Don’t get me or him wrong – he didn’t spend all his free time Batmanning. He spoiled you rotten, taking you out for coffee dates and strolls in the park. Often, you’d find little gifts on your bed, just like he used to do when you worked for him. Only this time, they were a bit more personal. Your favourite books and candles, bracelets with his initials, dresses that left a lot to the imagination, pieces of lingerie for his eyes only to see.

But most importantly, you loved each other. More than words could express. You were the light in Bruce’s light. The reason he got out of bed and downed expensive wool and linen suits during the day, and dark Kevlar ones at night. The reason he smiled more often, the reason he had began to believe in love again. Without you, the billionaire was sure he’d be lost in life. Surely, he must’ve done something great in a past one if he now had you in his arms, in his bed, in his life, in his heart.

These were the thoughts running through Bruce’s head as he held your hand. You were both sitting at a restaurant you’d wanted to try for years (“Bruce, please, I beg of you, just get us a reservation at Dorsia,” you’d whined one afternoon, trying to argue your case with a series of convincing kisses to his neck – and how could he deny you, with arguments like those?), having the time of your life as you told him about your day.

Bruce loved the sound of your voice. He’d let you speak for hours on end, about whatever topic you wanted, if it only meant he could listen to you.

In fact, he didn’t need to do any of the talking.

That night, he only had one question to ask of you, the weight of the small box inside his pocket filling him with both excitement and dread.

He only hoped you would say yes.

He needn’t worry.

If the smile on your face after he kneeled was any indication, your thoughts mirrored his.

You could not wait to spend forever together.

A/N: And that's it!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed this!!!! I'll also take this opportunity to warn y'all that this will be my last Bruce piece in a while! I have other requests pertaining other characters, and honestly, I feel like I'm getting a bit exhausted with all the writing I've been doing for him.

I don't want fanfiction writing to become a chore, so I'll be focusing on other characters for now in order not to lose this spark!!! I hope you guys enjoy those pieces as well <3

Stay safe and have a wonderful day ahead!!!!!!! <3<3<3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight fanfic #the dark knight fanfiction #nolanverse #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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moonlight-prose · 1 month

Text

KISS ME ONCE

a/n: i am so late with even starting this and i don't expect to finish, but i still wanted to contribute something. so this is the first fic for the moon knight bingo hosted by @moonknight-events. some of the prompts really captured my attention and i wanted to write what i could for them. i based this off yes the long long, long time, but some other jazz songs were played as i wrote. and honestly i'm obsessed with how it turned out. the divider is by the ever talented @saradika-graphics.

prompt used: butterflies

summary: dating steven grant came with its challenges. between being a superhero, sharing the body with a man you hardly knew, and his forgetfulness, you felt dizzy. so when your date goes awry, you take matters into your own hands.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: marc spector x reader

warnings: not explicit, some soft fluff, romance, the blossoming of a relationship, flustered marc.

Candlelight flooded the darkened flat, flickering a soft orange glow along the walls and stacks of books. It would be romantic if the frustrated bangs of a man trying to fix it wasn’t the only sound that echoed back to you. The evening had started out as a date. An attempt between you and Steven to rejoin together after weeks apart. But life continually managed to get in the way.

Problems arose one after the other. But nevertheless this is where you found yourselves. Sitting at the small table, candles scattered throughout the space, and the soft sound of jazz coming from the record player in the corner. And just as he poured you a glass of red wine—the power went out.

“It’s alright. Really.”

“I’ve almost got it.” A very American voice called back to you.

Steven—the man you adored—had no clue what the fuck to do in a situation such as a this. The radiator should have been easy enough to turn back on, but by the sounds it seemed that there was nothing but difficulty. Which is how Marc—the man you barely spoke to—wound up crashing your date.

It’s not that you didn’t want to speak to him. Get to know him. You just rarely found yourself with the chance. Between him and Steven being whisked away consistently, you barely had time to speak to Steven. Yet there you were, in your best outfit, candlelight illuminating the flat, and wine poured into two separate glasses. And Marc was acting as if you weren’t there.

He was helping. You knew that, but there was nothing that could be done. At least not right now.

“Are you hungry?”

The question must have thrown him off guard; his head peeking out from the bottom of the radiator. His eyes quickly caught sight of you standing there—hope shimmering in your eyes. A look that was usually only reserved for Steven. A look he’d longed to see directed at him one day. But Marc—ever the stubborn man Steven made him out to be—looked away as fast as he started.

“No I’m alright honey.” His eyes flicked back to you briefly before settling on the mirror. A quick sigh, the tensing of his shoulders, and you knew enough.

He wanted this.

You couldn’t deny the endearment didn’t have an effect on you. In fact, it was quite surprising how your entire stomach erupted into a flurry of butterflies. They normally only arose when Steven was near. How he smiled so bright it nearly killed you, how his entire heart was worn like an accessory on his sleeve. He looked at you in awe. As if you were the very light of his life, but Marc faced you with hesitancy. With reluctance and the darkened shine of anguish in his brown eyes.

What he wanted, he could never have.

That’s what he believed. Or at least that’s what you came to understand in the short time you’d known about him. That he gave everything—all he could spare—to Steven. He sacrificed a normal life to the man who already had it; to the person he could never be.

It broke your heart in a way.

Why would he believe he could never have you too? That his life wouldn’t be intertwined with yours. Like it or not you chose Steven, and whether he knew it or not…you also chose Marc. Even if he wouldn’t allow himself to be chosen.

“We ordered dinner. Thankfully. I love Steven, but I don’t trust him in a kitchen.” Smiling, you moved to grab the container you had yet to take the food out of.

Marc flinched at the word love falling so freely from your mouth. He acted as if he’d never heard the word before. And maybe he hadn’t. Maybe someone never looked at him the way Steven looked at you. Although something told you that tonight might in fact change that. You never saw yourself falling for Steven—for anyone really—but Marc was a welcomed surprise.

“I don’t want to take Steven’s food.”

You shrugged. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”

“You don’t know Steven honey.”

There was that fucking word again. A rush of flutters overtook your stomach, your heart racing with the glint of annoyance in his eyes as he stared at the mirror behind you. You could practically see Steven trying to reason with him. Trying to keep Marc from ruining this night. If only the both of them could see in your mind—how you longed to get closer to Marc, to see if you could make him feel the same as you did now.

So you did.

He looked startled, stepping back a bit with his hand outstretched. The sight brought a smile to your lips.

“I want to have dinner with you Marc.”

“You’re on a date with Steven.” He sighed, eyebrows pulling together. Strange how it was so different to Steven’s frustration, so unlike the soft man you knew. “Lemme fix the radiator and you can have him back,” he muttered.

“Marc—”

“Just need a tool. Which is somewhere around here.”

“Wait—”

“And I’ll be—”

With a quick lunge, you grabbed hold of Marc’s (Steven’s) button down, pulling him close enough to feel his breath on your chin. He froze, hands hovering over your waist as you kept him there and fixed him with a look that made his heart thump loudly against his chest. That glimmer—the want—was suddenly on him. And he felt as if the breath would fly out of his lungs if he tried to make a move. He was afraid he’d scare you off.

“Eat with me.” You smiled sweet and honey like he could practically taste it on his tongue. “Don’t make me tie you to the chair just to join me.”

He huffed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Then you’ll stay?”

He nodded. “I’ll stay.”

“The food’s cold.” You sighed, twisting in his hold to catch a glimpse of the darkened street. “And it looks like the whole street is down.”

You never saw how his eyes lingered on your lips, how he drank you in with ease. His own tongue swiping along his bottom lip quickly, chest stuttering as he sucked in a breath. If there’s one thing Marc knew it was this—you were the most beautiful person he’d seen. He wasn’t sure how Steven found you, but suddenly he found himself thanking every god he knew of that he did.

Perhaps that’s why he relinquished control so often. Solely to keep you around. Marc ruined things. He knew this. He understood that whatever he touched came away broken, but Steven…he fixed things. He brought light to the darkness and made sure it burned bright—he saved what Marc destroyed. And Marc couldn’t destroy you.

He’d die before he broke the one thing that made everything good.

“I have an idea,” you said, joy lighting up the room.

“Hm?”

You smiled, digging into your purse for your phone, the small screen lighting up your face. It was harsh to look at after nothing but candlelight for an hour, but you managed. At least long enough to find a good playlist, a jazz one Steven made for you in the first week of dating. Songs you’d danced to time and time again. It sounded echoey and small in the flat, but you played it regardless, setting the phone on the table as you reached for Marc.

“Dance with me?”

He stuttered this time. “W-What?”

“Dance with me.”

“Baby I’m not much of a dancer…”

Sighing, you pulled him close, your hand sliding into his. “That’s okay.” You felt him shudder slightly at the way your hand slid on his shoulder, your body pressed against his. “I’m not either.”

Marc knew that was a lie. He’d caught glimpses of moments between you and Steven. The soft love you both shared. It made him ache in ways he couldn’t describe with words, and maybe this was going too far. Maybe Steven would be pissed when he finally came back, but Marc refused to feel sorry for this. He wouldn’t apologize for loving you. Because there was nothing to apologize for—not when you felt so right in his arms.

He managed to sway gently with you, his feet shuffling—albeit a bit clumsily—along the hardwood floor. You didn’t notice. At least if you did, you never said anything. The music hummed a soft tune behind you, the yellow glow of the candles casting shadows across your supple skin. And Marc felt the ground vanish from beneath him.

How could someone be as perfect as you?

“I’m thinking we should go to the Italian restaurant on Friday.”

Flutters overtook his entire body. “Friday sounds good.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder gently. As if you were entirely at ease, planning dates with him like this had happened before. Marc did what he could to be the same. This was normal. This life, this flat, this…relationship. It belonged to him in a way; he just hadn’t seen it.

“We can go walking afterwards,” you said, your words soft—your breath washing across his neck and causing goosebumps to form. “See the moon.”

He smiled. “I see too much of the moon.”

“Then we go during the day.” Marc wrapped his arm tighter around your waist, daring to rest his hand a bit lower. You shivered at the touch. “See the sun instead.”

Marc realized then why Steven loved you, why he fought to keep you in his life. You gave all of yourself in a way he might never be able to. You jumped in wholeheartedly, with a smile on your face. Consequences be damned. And like the lights finally came back on in the apartment, he realized why he loved you. Steven—the man meant to protect him for his entire life—was an exact reflection of you.

You wore your heart on your sleeve just as he did.

You loved fiercely, hoped endlessly, and gave your entire soul to the one you chose.

Whether he liked it or not…you chose him too. Even if he couldn’t give over all of himself. Yet.

“Okay,” he murmured, resting his head gently against yours. “We’ll see the sun.”

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight #my writing #moonknightevents

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byerseason · 1 month

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my personal opinions on byler & mike’s character

most people believe mike is clueless or at least he just suspects will’s feelings. well, sometimes i agree with that but in general i think mike knows. actually he always knew. let’s look at everything from the beginning.

both mike and will always lived in a small town full of homophobia. we know will personally experienced homophobia from his dad and other people in hawkins. mike and will are friends since kindergarten and mike obviously witnessed all of these homophobia will went through. maybe mike experienced it too, we know ted said “see what happens?” for a reason. especially with lonnie, mike witnessed everything he did to will, we all know will shares everything with mike. so from their point of view, this thing called “homosexuality” is something really bad and all it causes is harm and hate. it’s something forbidden.

now let’s see what happened in all seasons. in season 1, a cool girl magically comes into mike’s life and shows interest in him. “you’re blind, because a girl is not grossed out by you” now mike has a chance to be normal like people expect him to be. and he’s a child, it’s not that deep. he can try. no deep feelings, no love, just be normal.

in season 2 this chance is taken away from mike leaving a trauma to him. after all, el was special and he cares for her so much. and the fact that she sacrificed herself just to save him and his friends is not something we can overlook. and adding to this trauma, something really bad is happening to will and they don’t even know what is it and how to fix it. he does his best, he never leaves his side because it’s something a good friend would do right? it wasn’t that forbidden thing the adults get angry about and it shouldn’t be. after el’s return and will being safe, mike had this chance again. el was here, she was incredible, a superhero who saved will and the world, and she was ready to be in a relationship with him. snowball scene was mike telling will “i’m moving on, you should move on too or we will get hurt by this.” because you know, these things always hurt will and nothing else.

in season 3, mike continues to this “moving on” as we can clearly see. this time a little bit grown up, or at least trying to grow up. distancing himself from will and all his friends, focusing on el all the time and for some reason not being able to maintain a friendship with will while dating el. this speaks volumes actually. it’s both him trying to be normal as expected and distancing himself from will to make sure he is normal too. to me that’s all the “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls.” scene. while mike is fighting back, will makes it harder for both of them without realizing it. i think -like everyone- the ending of season 3 was mike realizing it’s not working and it’s getting serious. he’s growing up, they’re growing up and everything is becoming clearer.

will and el moving to california was a new chance for mike. he ignored will, well at least he tried even though it’s clear he felt his absence especially in school, he didn’t reach out to him thinking maybe this is the chance for both of them to move on. and then el’s letter happened. mike thought will really did it, he moved on, he was able to move on while mike isn’t. if we think deeper, he is even working on a painting for her, something he used to do with mike. so yeah, will is normal, it worked for will, while mike is still dealing with this. when they reunite i think it was much more than just jealousy. disappointment, anger maybe? especially after he saw he brought the painting to the airport. apparently will wasn’t planning on giving all his attention to mike, who was visiting him after months, but he was planning to give the painting to the girl he likes, it was probably the reason of his excitement, not mike. so this is what makes mike want to focus on el more and ignore will during rinkomania scenes. when el mentions angela and will gives a reaction to this, mike is sure he was right and this day is about angela for will.

but he finds out he was wrong. well, the painting is still for a girl but at least he was wrong about angela. will was just upset because mike was being lied to, and he was hurt by mike being distant from him. this is what leads mike to sincerely apologize to will, as always. he always does that, if will says “where is dustin right now?” mike realizes his mistake and tries to fix it. if will says “we used to be best friends” mike realizes his mistake and offers to be best friends again. that’s all their dynamic about.

after mike and el’s fight, mike comes and explains what happened to will but it’s more like he is asking for an advice, he wants will to understand him. “it was a fight that you can’t come back from.” he wants will to agree but he doesn’t, this is when we start to understand mike’s inner struggles. he brings up this topic to will three times. none of these conversations are like two best friends giving each other relationship advices because mike never tells will what is the problem. for some reason he doesn’t want will to know he can’t tell her girlfriend that he loves her. we all know will and mike are sincere enough to tell these things to each other, they always do. but if he can’t, there must be a reason. maybe mike himself doesn’t know the answer either, maybe he doesn’t want will to understand his situation because he thinks will successfully moved on, who knows?

in the desert scene, he brings the topic up again, without mentioning what is “that thing”, but this time will seems like he understands. “sometimes, i think it’s just scary to open up like that, to say how you really feel, especially to the people you care about the most.” mike never mentioned he is struggling to say how he feels but will understand, he always did. this conversation would continue with mike opening up to will if it wasn’t interrupted, so mike brings it up once again for the third time, in the van scene.

this time he is being more open but he is still struggling to say one thing, which will completes for him “you’re scared of losing her.” well, mike was wrong. will wasn’t getting it until.. the painting scene. mike is not stupid, he knows will spent days working on it. he knows eleven doesn’t know about what this painting is about. he knows he doesn’t make el feel like “she is not a mistake at all” especially after their fight, remember that line from the script “she’s already beginning to understand she doesn’t need me, i saw it in her eyes” he knows el doesn’t need him, he knows will well enough to understand he is lying. the way he looks at will admiringly is him thinking “he didn’t move on, we’re still the same.” and also him being aware of what will is doing for him, breaking his own heart and sacrificing himself just to make mike feel better. also, he notices will is sobbing, he looks at him and even if he didn’t how could he not? he had tears in his eyes during all the monologue and he was sobbing right next to him. so is there any reason for mike to not say anything to his best friend sobbing next to him if he didn’t know the reason? the mike i know would immediately ask what was wrong if he was clueless. he knows why will is crying but he doesn’t know what to do about it. mike’s situation is pretty sad when you think about it, he probably feels like he’s stuck.

then we have the desert reunion scene. this time we clearly can see how stuck he feels between el and will, he doesn’t know how to get out of this without hurting any of them, and also himself. the way he looks at them looks like also him being afraid of damaging their bond.

then the monologue scene.. this scene may mean lots of different things, i am not sure either.

it may be mike being aware of what will is doing, how he is sacrificing himself once again, how mike is gonna have to lie and hurt everyone in the end, how the things are gonna be way more complicated or mike realizing he was wrong about thinking will has feelings for him.

my season 5 expectation is seeing a mike wheeler who stops fighting back and embraces his feelings, without hurting both of them.

that’s my point of view that changes almost everyday lol. i don’t know if there are many people who believes mike isn’t clueless so i wanted to share my thoughts. 💛

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #byler endgame #byler analysis

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clockwayswrites · 9 months

Text

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 9

WC: 1431, Masterpost CW: blood, cannon typical violence, off screen civilian and first responder deaths, mentions of death

Danny and his Flash were both very busy people, there was no denying that. The good thing was that the worst of their busyness were the same events. Sure, they both had obligations outside of that. Danny had all of the other work with the outreach and now overseeing and even training other team members. Flash… well, Flash had whatever he did with the rest of his life. Danny assumed he worked, even if it was for the Justice League.

It was a little odd not knowing Flash past the mask. Danny understood, of course he did. A secret identity was important and, despite having been on several dates now, they still were getting to know each other. It wasn’t as if Danny didn’t know anything about his Flash. He knew Flash always comforted the kids first, was fiercely loyal, and couldn’t resist petting a dog. He knew Flash loved trying new foods, played video games with friends that Flash wished he saw more, and really did enjoy spoiling him. He knew a lot.

He just didn’t know Flash’s name or what family Flash had or if those freckles ran all the way across Flash’s nose.

Danny would be patient though, because he understood. It helped that he at least had Flash’s number. He didn’t know if it was a burner phone or an app or routed through a number of proxies; he hadn’t asked. The first thing Danny had done, in fact, was to send a Flash meme. It had gotten him shoved, but that had turned into a make out session on the couch, so Danny certainly wasn’t complaining.

And if Danny now kept a collection of gifs, memes, and other silly Flash things on hand to send? Well, who could blame him.

He rolled over to grab his phone from the coffee table and sent off another picture of a cat dressed up in Flash’s outfit. The amount of people dressing pets up as superheros was honestly shocking. He didn’t expect an answer right then, looking at the time, but he found it was… nice to be able to find things to send to Flash for him to find and respond to later. It made him feel connected to someone in a way that he hadn’t had in years.

Danny recognized, now, that he had been really hurting himself trying to stay so separate from everyone. One way or another, this is how things would be for the rest of his life. He couldn’t keep morning what had happened, what he had lost. Besides, he was just a civilian now, he wasn’t a danger to his friends and family anymore. So, along with Flash, Danny had started actually accepting the occasional invitation from some of his coworkers. He had even found a game store to go to and play at on the weekends.

It was harder than he thought, putting himself out there again, but his life was brighter for being around people outside of work every week or so. He had Flash to thank for that.

He also had Flash to thank for getting him addicted to the Percy Jackson books. He could personally do with less lightning, but the story had a real way of resonating with the halfa. Danny was three books in at this point and needed to know how it all finished up.

A few chapters further in a notification interrupted him.

Quick Boy: It’s not fair that a cat wears my uniform better than me!!

Danny laughed and tapped the message.

Danny: The cat is pretty cute. But I still think you wear it best. You have a better butt. 😏

The little dots wiggled as Flash typed. It was endlessly amusing to Danny that despite being, literally, super fast, Flash was slowed down by the physics of the world around him, like how fast a phone could accept input.

Quick Boy: 😳🫣🥵 Danny! Have you been checking out my butt?

Despite himself, Danny felt a blush heating up his cheeks. They hadn’t gotten any further than kissing, it didn’t feel right to go further when Danny didn’t know who Flash was, but that didn't mean Danny couldn't tease.

Danny: You run around in spandex, I can’t NOT check out your butt. Have to say, it’s a pretty good one. 10/10, would ogle again.

Quick Boy: How do you feel about ogling it in my most flattering sweatpants? Got a hold of that Japanese giant bug movie you were ranting about. I can grab food and be over to your place in about an hour?

Danny: Stop calling it that!!!You know the title! 😤

Quick Boy: I’m not typing out that title.

Danny grinned as he rolled off of the couch. If Flash was coming over, he should at least pick up a little. Danny knew Flash didn’t really care, but the pile of laundry that Danny had been avoiding folding was a bit much.

Danny: Thought you were supposed to be fast.

Quick Boy: 😒

Danny: Come on, quick boy, take the nanosecond and type it.

Quick Boy: I hate you.

Danny: No you don't~

(Danny sung along as he typed.)

Quick Boy: “Help I’ve Been Made a Holy Knight in a World of Giant Bugs and Need to Save the Prince”

Danny: Knew you could do it! Proud of you. 😘 See you in an hour! Bring Thai and ice cream!

Danny was just putting away the folded stack of laundry when an alarm on his phone screamed at him.

It was work.

Emergency alert.

All hands on deck.

Danny dashed for his door, shoving his feet in his work boots and grabbing the backup vest he kept at home. Someone would drive the trucks full of kits there, but Danny still took his little kit with him, just in case he ran into any wounded on the way.

So much for dinner and cuddling his boyfriend.

As soon as he stepped out onto the street, Danny could hear the sound of sirens and the acrid smell of smoke stung his eyes. Danny’s heart sank.

Whatever this was, it was big.

“Danny.”

Danny flexed his hands. Flakes of dried blood broke off and scattered in the wind.

“Danny, babe.”

He would need more gloves for his kit. Was he out? He had to be out. He changed gloves so many times. There were so many people. He had to be out of gloves. He would need more for his kit.

Other hands entered his vision, covered in bright red. Not blood red, bright red. Blood red was mostly darker than people thought. Bright blood was worse. He watched as the hands gently rolled down the gloves.

He needed more gloves.

“Not for today, babe. You’re done for today.”

He needed more gloves, there were so many people.

“Everyone is accounted for. You and the others got everyone.”

Not everyone.

How many people died under his hands today?

Were already dead when he found them?

Wouldn’t last the night?

How many people did he fail?

Too many.

“Danny.” The voice was worried now. “Come on babe, look at me, please?”

Blood had gotten under his gloves, staining his wrists.

“Babe, please.”

Warm, fabric covered hands rested on Danny’s cheeks, tilting his gaze up and away from his hands.

Oh. “Flash?”

“Hey there, babe, you with me?”

Why did he look so worried?

“Because you’re scaring me a little. I think you’re in shock.”

Oh.

“Do you have a shock blanket in your kit still?”

“No… used them all. Had to cover…”

How many people did he fail?

“Okay, that’s okay. I’m going to take you home, okay babe? Well, not my home, but where I used to live— right, that doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go and I’ll keep you safe.”

Danny motioned to a cluster of officials. “I have to—”

“I’ve already checked you out.”

“My team?”

Flash glanced down and away.

“Flash, my team?”

“They’re…. all accounted for. Larson…. He got caught in part of the building coming down. He didn’t make it. Patel was paired with him. She’s at the hospital, they think she’ll pull through.”

Danny tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to scream, to rage, to wail— it all caught up in his throat because he couldn’t. He let out a soundless sob.

Flash pulled Danny into his arms, holding him close. “I know. I know. I’m taking you home. You’ll be okay Danny. It will be okay.”

The colors of the world blurred together as Flash ran, but Danny hardly noticed.

-----

AN: So this has been 95% written since before I got sick, but just now was the first time I could get my brain to deal with it. A darker part of the story, I know, but it felt needed. Danny's doing a very, very hard job and one made all the worse because Danny used to be able to do more and now he can't. (Though I have no doubt he pushed use of his powers further than was really safe in this.)

Stay safe and delightful, my darlings!

I no longer tag people for several reasons, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead to be notified! (May notify this part slightly later, I am queuing it.)

#dp x dc #danny fenton/wally west #quick death #abson

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