#robin tripped on purpose. btw

[stevenose]

disarm (18+)

contains: steve x reader; reader with a vagina; reader is called ‘girl’ once; sexual tension; drunk!flirty!steve; lil bit of inspection kink; size kink; teasing; no smut just whorish vibes

author note: i hope you folks like it! i won’t be doing a part 2 of this one, but hope you enjoy the tension :)

Steve’s always saying weird shit to you when he’s drunk.

You know he’s just uninhibited. That if he were sober he’d be so embarrassed. You keep telling yourself that, at least.

The first time he approaches you like this, he asks, “What color underwear you got on?”

You humor him, tipsy yourself. “Take a guess.”

Steve really looks like he’s thinking, dilated pupils staring deep into yours. “Red?”

“Nope.” you can’t stop looking at him, and he isn’t looking away either. “They’re blue, actually.”

“How’d you know that’s my favorite color?” he asks, voice low, leaning forward to rest his palm on your knee.

“Oh, you think I wore them for you?”

“I wish.”

He’s easily distracted and the conversation goes no further. It’s easy to shrug him off. You know he’s a whore, anyway - have to hear about his most recent date every time you see him.

But then it happens again.

Steve stops you in the hallway at the next party, his warm hand curling around your bicep gently. Makes you stop walking to look at him.

“Havin’ fun?” he asks. His t-shirt is cut low - your eyes are drawn to the dark patch of hair on his chest.

“I think so.”

He grins, borderline diabolical. Teeth straight and white, blunt edges that could bite bruises into your skin. “There’s a free bedroom upstairs if you wanna have more.”

“Huh?”

“I said -“ he leans in towards you, until the tip of his nose touches yours, “- there’s a free bedroom upstairs if you want to have more fun.”

He doesn’t stay very serious, however. He giggles, pulls away from you and winks before continuing on his way. You roll your eyes after him, trying to brush off the way he made your stomach flip. He apparently doesn’t fuck without a first date, anyway.

And then it just sort of keeps happening. Sometimes he’d just stare at you, mouth slightly agape, watching you from the other side of the room. Or he’d make sure his palm presses firmly against the small of your back as he “squeezes past” you to grab another drink, despite there being a five foot clearance.

One night, when he’s more drunk than usual - something to do with a bad week at work - he goes a lot farther than he has. He finds you in the corner of the living room, looking at the lines in your own palm.

“Hey,” he says, quite loudly, startling you.

When you look up, he’s extremely close to you. Eyes soft, but staring into yours. He smells like maraschino cherries, no doubt from the strawberry daiquiris he won’t admit he loves. “Hi,” you breathe, trying to look at his eyes, but they keep moving languidly from your eyes to your lips to your chest. Your breasts peak out from the scoop-neck of the baby tee you’re wearing. And, okay, it’s baby blue - you may have worn it just to see what he’d do.

“Can I help you?” you ask.

He nods, nose slanting downwards towards your tits. “Y’never really wear stuff like that.”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Why not?”

You grin. “Because pervs like you will stare.”

He scoffs. “That’s ‘stactly why you shouldn’t be wearin’ it here.”

Your eyes narrow at him. Now he’s just being annoying. “Oh, are you mad?”

“A little.” He licks his lips, tongue stained red from the mixer. “You should only be wearin’ somethin’ like that when you’re gonna get fucked.”

Your eyes widen, heart hammering in your chest, enough to feel it in your throat. He’s never been so forward before. And he’s backing you into the wall, trapping you in - very deliciously.

He tilts his head, highlighted hair bobbing over his forehead. “Are you gonna get fucked tonight?”

You swallow hard, blood icy cold. You’re not used to this tango, not with him. “You tell me.”

Steve blinks like he’s also shocked, goes a little slack jawed. He looks down at your tits, then back up. “I think you should get fucked tonight.”

Your hand clenches around your drink, threatening to fall to the floor. You’re weak, sore and needy between the legs.

Perhaps he’s willing to make an exception for the date rule for you.

“Will I?”

“With tits like those?” He nods down again. “Bet you’ve got the sweetest nipples. You like havin’ ‘em bit? Sucked?”

You wonder if he feels the heat radiating off of your face. “Steve,” you say, trying to give him a warning. You can’t breathe, knees beginning to shake. “What kind of friend asks that?”

His jaw clenches, then unclenches. “So you just see me as a friend?”

You bite your cheek. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? Or do you know something I don’t?”

“I -“

You’re both startled by the sound of champagne popping, shrieks and woops breaking you out of whatever you were just entangled in. And Steve, so easily distracted, groans and marches towards the kitchen, shouting, “I told you to take that shit outside!”

You inhale deep, thumping chest caving in, collarbones turning sharp. It’s suddenly so cold without him in front of you. You run a hand through your hair and look around, spotting Robin grinning at you from ear to ear. You roll your eyes at her and move through the living room to get some water and air.

You wonder if he’ll even remember when he’s sober. If he’ll apologize for asking something so insane. But he either doesn’t remember or wants to forget, because when you’re back to return tapes two days later he acts completely normal. It isn’t a bad thing - it’s a bit fun to play with him in such a non-serious way. Though you do find his hands gripping the next tape you rent for a bit too long, shoves your change into your hand and lets his palm linger against yours.

Another get together - you can hardly call it a party when there’s only ten people present - brings you back to his apartment two weeks later. It’s much more low key and he, in turn, drinks much less. He still gets drunk, though - laughing loudly, freckled neck on display. Does things he gives Robin shit for. You laugh beside her when she scoffs at him, throwing a pillow across the way to hit him in the back of the head.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” she says. “Do you want one?”

You tell her you’re okay and she’s off, leaving the couch beside you empty. Which Steve notes. Immediately.

“What’s a place like you doin’ in a girl like this?”

“You invited me,” you remind, the couch dipping as he sits beside you.

“Ohhh. And why’d I do that?”

You hum, trying to suppress a smile. “I don’t know. You must like me.”

He narrows his eyes. “You know I do.”

You’re already getting horny again. “Because I leave big tips for you?”

“And what do you know about big tips, huh?”

You laugh, a little shrill, feeling very much on the spot. Then he grabs your hand, pulling it up against his. You assume he’s comparing the size - a clear flirting tactic - and you watch him with much adoration as he examines them together. His first knuckle is able to come down on your finger tips and he grins. “You’ve got small hands.”

“Maybe yours are just freakishly big.”

“Wanna know what else is?”

Which, truly, in any other situation this would be funny. But it so isn’t. His words are deathly serious to you.

“Well, it can’t be your brain.”

Steve scoffs again. “Oh, funny.”

Out of nowhere, you’re doused with something cold. Robin’s tripped on the rug, spilling her wine on you. You gasp just as she says, “Oh, shit!”

“Rob-in!” Steve sounds more than exasperated with her, but it’s hard to take it seriously when he’s slurring.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry - I got - I tripped - with my big clown feet - oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” you promise, despite the huge red stain on your white shirt. It’s still dripping down you, onto your skirt. Drenched. “Uh, let me go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll help,” Steve says, stumbling when he stands, helping you off the couch. You’re certain he won’t be much help but you accept his assistance anyway.

You’ve noticed how Steve gets into these dad modes. Like, one time Robin choked on a lemon seed that was in her water and Steve wouldn’t let her drink without him checking her cup for two months afterwards. And there was the time that Eddie, clumsier than Robin, tripped and scraped his knee, and Steve acted like Eddie was five. So now it’s your turn, ushered into his bathroom while he props you against the counter and scrounges around for a towel.

“It’s okay,” you say, “I’m just wet.”

“I got it,” he assures, running a washcloth under the tap. You’re sure he thinks he’s helping, as much as he can when he’s inebriated, but you’re very certain a wet washcloth won’t help. He swats your hands away when you try to take it from him, and he starts blotting the wine.

His hair in your face smells fruity, like his hairspray. “Steve, I don’t think this is doin’ much.”

His brows are knitted in concentration. “‘s almost out.”

You look down. It is not.

But you let him feel important anyway. Watching as he dabs and dabs and dabs over your sternum. His breath tickling your neck. And now that the shock has worn off, you’re getting turned on again. By his attention, how he’s trying to help, how his big fucking paws are right there. You’re practically begging god to make him do something when his hands start wandering.

Steve brings the towel over your breast, blotting as usual, then slowing. Like it’s clicking what he’s doing. And then he presses a little harder, lingers for a while. His palm touching you more than the cloth. His eyes drift up to yours as he moves towards the other. And instead of blotting, his hand cups it.

You simply let him.

The cold has made your nipples perk up under your bralette. Steve’s thumb swipes over the hardened nub. You both stare at each other, willing the other to do more, but it’s left in a stalemate. Steve throws the washcloth in the sink, lets his hand slide over your heart.

“Heartbeat’s so fast,” he observes softly. “What’s that all about, huh?”

You swallow hard. “Lot of excitement.”

His eyes drift down. “I can tell.”

You take a big breath, looking away from him. “Do you have something I could borrow?”

“Like what?”

“Like, a shirt?”

Steve blinks, looking sad. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, prob’ly.”

As you walk behind him to his room, you decide you’ll throw him a bone whenever the opportunity arises. You certainly can’t have him thinking you don’t like his attention. You watch him clumsily rifle through his closet before he finds a black sweater that’ll match your skirt well enough.

It makes you dizzy how it smells like him, even freshly laundered. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Steve simply stands in front of you, hands on his hips, lips pulled in tight. Looking at you like he’s thinking really hard.

You bite your lip, heartbeat fastening again. You turn from him to place the shirt on his bed, which seems to snap him out of whatever stupor he’s in. He clears his throat and turns to leave, but you call after him.

“Steve?”

He turns, brows furrowed. “Yeah?”

You inhale deep before slowly peeling your shirt off of you. Taking your time, letting it catch on the curve of your breasts. You let it slip to his floor and you continue watching him. Watching his chest rise and fall rapidly, his nostrils flaring, chestnut eyes staring right at your bra-clad chest. You’re so hot you’re beginning to sweat - and then you reach behind you to unclasp your wet bralette.

Steve’s jaw drops comically slow as it joins your shirt on the floor. You can’t help but to smile.

“What do you think?” you ask quietly.

He shakes his head slowly. “Think you’ve been holdin’ out on me.”

You press your tits together with your arms as you shrug at him, turning around to fetch the sweater he’s given you. You figure it’ll be enough for him to know you’re wearing his shirt, chest bare underneath, but then he says, “Your skirt is wet, too.”

You don’t turn to look at him as you grab the fabric, leaning forward for it. “Don’t suppose you have one for me to borrow?”

You didn’t even hear him walking up behind you. You’re suddenly pressed into the bed, his hand pushing down on the space between your shoulder blades to keep you against the mattress. Your breath hitches, stomach flipping. You feel how hard he is against your ass, and he grinds once before sliding down to kneel behind you.

“What are you doing?” you breathe.

“Checkin’ out the damage.” His hands push your skirt up, up, up, until it rests above your ass. You feel his breath fanning across the back of your thighs. “Y’know,” he continues casually, “since you said you’re wet.”

Your breaths turn shallow. Steve’s hands, warm and soft, run up the backs of your thighs slowly. You part them for him. Heat rushes to your face when he laughs behind you, but he doesn’t say anything. Must just be overjoyed that you’re letting him do this.

His hands move to your hips, squeezing them slightly before tucking his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. You’re so dizzy it almost makes you sick - but you wait patiently as he slowly pulls them down.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding,” he observes quietly. Lets your underwear hang around your knees. “All this for me?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Been - you’ve been working me up for weeks.”

“I know.”

You want to call him a bastard, but you’re stunned into silence when he parts your folds. The sound it makes is embarrassing to you, but Steve coos at it. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy. Knew you would.”

You exhale shakily. “Steve….”

“Fucked my fist to it,” he admits. “But I didn’t think it’d be so tiny.”

And then one of his fingers presses against your hole. Just enough. You short circuit, electric running through you, knees going weak. Steve’s free hand steadies them, fingers splayed out along your skin.

“Can you even get any fingers in here?” he mumbles. Circles your little hole, your eyes crossing. “Know your hands are so tiny, too.”

“No,” you force yourself to say. “Not really.”

He sounds contemplative. “Just one of mine would split you in two.”

His finger trails down, resting at your swollen clit for a few short moments before he pulls away, yanking your underwear back up.

You feel more than upset. Devastated that he’s pulled away. You want to grab him, cunt hurting from the teasing with no relief.

“Steve-“

“You know I don’t fuck without a date first,” he grins. As if he didn’t just ruin your life with whatever that was. Like he didn’t just turn you into his cock-dumb whore. Jesus Christ, if he told you to spend the rest of the night topless, you would. “So here’s what’s gonna happen, okay?”

Then he’s back, leaning over you, pushing you into his bed. His cock really straining against his jeans while he presses into your ass. He puts his lips right up against your ear. “You’re gonna get dressed ‘nd we’re gonna party, ‘kay? Then tomorrow I’m gonna pick you up and take you for breakfast.” He ruts himself into you and you moan. “Sorry, sweetheart. ‘m usually a dinner guy but I can’t wait that long to have you. How’s nine sound?”

“You… there’s n-no way you’re going to be up at nine.”

He scoffs. “‘ve got an alarm clock.”

You press your ass back into him. “You’ll forget.”

“Haven’t forgotten you so far.” Grinds against you again.

“You remember when you’re sober?”

“Honey. You’re all I’ve been able to think about.”

Then he’s off of you, leaving your tits pressed to his mattress, overwhelmed. He walks towards his desk while you desperately try to stand - your legs are still shaking. Your fingers curl around his sweater just as he comes back, arm marked up with a pen.

BREAKFAST AT 9 WITH HOTTIE :)

“See? Won’t forget.”

You’re still not so sure - you’ll have to wait and see. As you finally start pulling his sweater on, he grabs your bra, tucking it into his back pocket. “I’ll wash it for you,” he says, patting it.

“Yeah? After you cum in it?”

Steve smiles deviously. “You wanna watch me do it?”

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Feels Something Like Summertime

by thesurefireway

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Argyle (Stranger Things), The Party (Stranger Things), Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eddie lived and he's sunburned as hell, Homophobia does not exist here, good vibes only, non-stop goofball behavior from everyone involved, homoerotic sunscreen application, The usual array of lake activities, Accidental Cuddling, Followed by On Purpose Cuddling, Oral Sex, Blowjobs, handjobs, Grinding, Laughter During Sex, Bad jokes during sex, First Kiss, Tickling, Tickling During Sex, like it happens in the beginning of the deed but it's not done for sexual arousal, Making Out, Marking, Nancy Wheeler's concealer saves the day, Literal Sleeping Together, Sharing a Bed, this is really just 21k words of silly goofy antics with a smut break, Boats, YOU get a sunburn! YOU get a sunburn!, Body Worship, brief mentions of gutting a fish, steve spends this whole trip looking at eddie with hearts in his eyes, fishing without a license, Brief Underage Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, the drug is weed btw, Fluff and Smut Words: 22,197 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Steve watches the kids in the lake. Mike splashes Lucas and turns tail to try and wade away before getting tackled into the water. Max and El laugh, arms linked, and giggle something that Steve can’t quite make out. Dustin is standing shin deep and closer to the shore. He has one hand on his hip while the other is flung out toward the wrestling boys. “He really takes after you, huh?” Eddie’s voice startles Steve and he rips his eyes away to crane his neck around. Eddie is looking out toward the lake, eyes locked on Dustin. “Yeah, like mother like son, blah blah blah,” Steve chuckles. Eddie bites his lip in a smile and holds up his lotion-coated hands. “Yeah, pretty much. Ready to let me get my hands on you?” “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to a little begging, but sure,” Steve shrugs, tossing Eddie a look with the tilt of his head and raised eyebrows. Eddie takes a step forward and leans in, lips close to Steve’s ear. “I don’t beg,” he whispers. Or Steve takes his 11 closest friends on a trip to the lake, and unexpectedly falls in love.

[damian-dreamz8442]

Missing in Action Part II

Hola, back with the second half of the fic. Should I link Part I here?

Psych, I already did. 

BTW this is NOT canon compliant and I do not even try to be accurate at all, just in character. 

Basic re-cap (spoilers) Damian is missing, kidnapped by a pack of goons in clown makeup, right out from under Dick’s nose. Afterwards he got a call from the Joker saying he has Damian, and gave Dick a bit of a clue as to where. 

Meanwhile, the Joker is very angry over the fact that he doesn’t actually have Damian, and the little punk is, in fact, nowhere to be found. 

Dick called the batmobile to his location, putting it on autopilot as he was in no condition to drive. His pounding head was only a minor distraction compared to the all-encompassing worry over Damian. He needed back-up if he was going to find Damian. 

Stephanie was, unsurprisingly, the first to answer. “Batman?” She questioned, no doubt noticing Dick initiated a group call with her, Cass, Tim and Jason. 

“I hope this is quick, Batman,” Tim added, keys clacking audibly in the background, “I’m in the middle of a case with the titans and-”

“Damian is missing.” Dick blurted, abandoning code names. 

“What?” Jason barked. Dick could hear Cass narrow her eyes. 

“He was kidnapped on patrol,” Dick explained, “a pack of goons took him, wearing clown makeup.” 

“Oh my god.” Stephanie breathed, at the same time as Tim’s “the Joker? He’s back?” 

“We don’t know that.” Jason reasoned, voice tight. “There are copy cats of the Joker all over Gotham.” 

“I got a call.” Dick cut his brother off, trying to focus his eyes on the road despite not being in control of the car. “A payphone, somehow he knew I would still be in the area. He gave me a clue.” A really messed up, useless clue. Dick hated even remembering the words as they came along with that familiar nasal voice. He’d written down the message, scrawled hastily on a sticky note in his belt, but somehow he’d dropped it in his panic. 

“He said he took Robin to ‘the place little robins go to... die’.” Dick ignored his voice crack, hoping the others would as well. 

Tim’s typing stopped, “like actual birds or-”

“The warehouse.” Jason growled, eliciting a curse from Dick. “You don’t think...” Jason’s only response was a grunt. 

Jason’s constant death jokes insured that at least they all knew which warehouse he was referring to. It did nothing to instill confidence in Dick. 

“How long do we have?” Tim asked as Dick went about changing the coordinates in his GPS. 

“It’s the Joker,” Jason grumbled, emotion lost from his voice in a transparent way of blocking out old memories, “we’ll be lucky if Damian’s even recognizable when we get there.” 

The line went silent, the implications heavy on the group of siblings. Dick wished for the thousandth time that Bruce was there. He could’ve stopped all this, surely. Dick didn’t have time to think about the irony; losing his first robin the same way the first Batman lost his robin. Dick wouldn’t let his brain go there. He couldn’t. 

Damian finally made it back to the street Dick was supposed to be on. Between limping and sticking to the shadows as much as possible in red and green, it had taken him nearly another hour. Quite the pathetic display, Damian told himself. No doubt if his father had been alive, he would’ve been disappointed. 

Despite it being two hours, Damian was at a loss when he found the alleyway deserted. There was a creepy box, mostly broken, and a stuffed clown face that laid decimated not far away, but no Batman. Damian did not like the idea of limping all the way back to the manor. His ankle pulsed with constant pain, it was getting harder to breathe around his ribs, and the cuts littered all of his limbs had yet to stop bleeding. It was tempting to just sit against the wall and wait for someone to come along and put him out of his misery. 

Instead, Damian limped over to a phone booth across the street. The receiver was unhooked, emitting the most sound, second only to Drake speaking. Damian hung it up with a grimace. He was surprised it worked at all, considering no one used phone booths anymore. Unless they were desperate. Which Damian was. 

He was about to try to remember the number for Wayne manor, when Damian noticed something yellow discarded haphazardly outside the phone booth. It wouldn’t have been of much interest to him, except the handwriting was unmistakable. 

Dick had used the phone booth and carelessly left behind a note. No doubt he was over reacting to Damian being missing, but at least it ensured he was alive. The note made little sense. 

‘Where little robins go to die’, who would even come up with that? Damian made a face at the sickening notion. 

Sluggishly, Damian’s brain aligned the clues. Dick thought he was missing, already on a scale of six of worry. He and Tim categorized a scale of worry for their family. Dick was almost always a five, Damian had never seen Jason rise above a two. 

Someone had called him on the phone booth, obviously. It was unlikely Dick’s communicator was broken in the skirmish and even if it was he wouldn’t think to use a phone booth. For what purpose? He could just call the batmobile. 

So some sicko had called the phone booth and given Dick the message. A clue perhaps? Damian read it again, allowed his mushy, bruised brain to comprehend the words. Wished he was as good a detective as Drake. Bashed the intrusive thought with a mental crowbar. 

Crowbar! Damian would’ve smacked his head if it didn’t already hurt so much. Finally Jason’s fatalistic sense of humor came in handy; his cause of death ingrained in the back of Damian’s mind. A rather dark turn of thought, but Damian was more results oriented. 

The Joker had beaten Jason with a crowbar, then killed him, in a warehouse on the other side of Gotham. It never did get rebuilt, but the Joker had erroneously threatened to do the same thing to Damian. Despite it being a lie, Dick would believe it. He didn’t know Damian escaped. 

Great, just great. How unbelievably fantastic. What an amazing turn of events, now Damian would get the absolute privilege of walking all the way across Gotham, trying to catch up with Dick who was probably a hair shy of a ten. If Damian was wrong well... that would really suck. 

Damian was really starting to understand why Joker was the most disliked criminal in the batfamily. (There was a vote. Ironically, they all like Harley Quinn the most.) 

With no other options, Damian began limping in the vague direction of the infamous warehouse. A street later, he passed a marooned motorcycle. After that, his night got much better. 

Dick ran across the grounds of the warehouse district to find the rest of his siblings not far from the remains of the blown up warehouse. Cass had a hand on Jason’s shoulder, while he quietly muttered about not letting Damian die the same way he had. It was cruelty on another level, this scheme of the Joker’s. Dick just wanted his robin back. 

Tim and Steph were formulating a strategy. Well, Tim was, having pulled up an overhead view of the warehouse rubble. Steph kept suggesting they go in fighting, get Damian, and set Joker on fire. Tim pointed out eight reasons that would not work. 

Dick stood next to Jason, taking a deep breath. “I don’t think we have time to wait, or make a plan.” He shot an apologetic look at Tim, “we just need to go in, canvas it, find Damian-”

“That’s what Joker wants!” Tim insisted, gesturing lamely to the building. “He probably has some game set up, or the entrance rigged, and we’ll all get blown up!” Jason bristled at the prospect of being blown up again, noticeable only to Cass. She squeezed his shoulder. 

Suddenly, a sharp disc cut through the group, lodging in the tree behind them. They all looked at it in shock, Joker’s logo laughing at them. It blinked to life, emitting a hollow cackle. 

“You’re too late!” Came a raspy voice. It hissed, a pathetic amount of laughing gas bubbling out of its edges. The frisbee was not meant to do damage, the real threat...

Dick spun around just as ruins of the warehouse let out a sickening crackle and exploded. Again. 

“No!” Dick screamed, lurching forward. Cass jumped in front of him to hold him back, eyes trained on the building. Jason couldn’t tear his eyes from the flames, memories and horror clutching him. 

“No, no, no, that can’t be it!” Tim insisted, burying his hands in his hair. “It’s... it’s the Joker! Where are the mind games? The... the...” 

Stephanie crashed to her knees, gaping at the scene. “What just-what just happened?” 

“Damian...” Dick’s voice cracked painfully, throat raw. He could feel the heat, there were debris floating down. Cass hugged him tightly. 

Jason spun around and punched a tree, it was unclear if the following crack came from the wood or his knuckles. He let out a furious growl, which morphed into an anguished roar. “I’m. Going. To. Kill. That son of a b-- !” 

Damian nearly stopped his stolen motorcycle as he saw the warehouse rubble go up in flames. What the... who would go through the trouble of blowing up that heap of cement? He could only hope Dick wasn’t in there, it would be just like him to do something stupid without Damian. 

Finally making it over the grassy hill - one of the few greenspaces in this area of Gotham - Damian ditched the bike. He was about to hobble forward when he heard a haunted wail from none other than Jason Todd. Damian broke into a run, despite his bodies protests. 

Had Dick gone into that building? Was one of them hurt? Damian could see his whole family gathered not far from the explosion. He could barely breathe, thanks to his ribs, and tripped on his ankle. He was panting by the time he got close enough to call out to them. 

Are you ok?” He straightened to talk to Jason, the only one looking at him, “what happened? Sorry I’m late, but someone ditched me in central Gotham and-” 

His whole family spun to look at him. Jason looked close to tears. Dick was crying. Stephanie was on the ground. Maybe she was hurt? Before Damian could ask, Dick was running full speed at him. 

“Robin!” His voice was thick with relief as he swept Damian into a hug. Normally such contact was unwarranted but not uncomfortable. This time, could Damian just say, ow. 

“Batman, release me!” Damian managed through gritted teeth, his ribs screaming at the pressure. There were definitely a few broken. 

“Robin, I can’t believe... you were... and then we!” 

“Batman! My ribs!” Dick let go immediately at the pained sound of Damian’s voice, supporting the boy as he doubled over painfully. He looked up to find his whole family gathered around him in concern. 

There were hands all over him, noting his injuries, bracing his ankle, rubbing his back. Someone - Todd, probably - even took advantage of the situation to mess up his hair. It was too much to keep track of, making him dizzy. 

“What happened?” He asked, batting the hand away from his hair. 

“We thought you... you were in there.” Stephanie finally explained, pointing at the burning cement foundation. 

“Joker, he... I saw you?” Dick was still unable to formulate a proper sentence. 

Damian scoffed, which cost him dearly as pain seared through him. It took him another second to get enough breath back in his lungs to explain. “I got away from those buffoons in like... five minutes.” Two hours, but who was counting. 

“Your ankle. Ribs. Head.” Cass countered. Ah, her hands were bracing his ankle. 

“Well, I didn’t get away entirely unscathed.” 

“We were really worried about you.” Tim’s voice was choked with emotion. He was rubbing Damian’s back. Damian couldn’t help but look at him in shock.” 

“So you all rushed here... to try and save me?” 

“Obviously!” Jason scoffed loudly. “Always.” He finished, locking eyes with Damian. 

Damian cleared his throat - another act that rendered him speechless in pain for a few seconds. “Thank you for coming. As you can see, I’m fine.” The siblings shared an incredulous look. 

“Is that Damian for ‘my body frigging hurts and I want to go home’?” Steph asked, leaning down to Damian’s level. He glared at her. “No, I’m-” he was about to say ‘not even that hurt’ but then Cass let go of his ankle to stand and Damian nearly fainted. To his utter mortification, a pained whimper left him. 

“Oh, lil’D, c’mere.” Dick cooed sympathetically, slowly gathering him up. This time he was mindful of Damian’s ribs. Damian would not admit that a huge wave of relief washed over him as soon as he was being carried, weight off his ankle and head cradled on Dick’s shoulder. 

“Put me down. I can... I can walk.” Damian’s protest held no heat, it was basically a whine. Dick leaned his cheek on Damian’s head softly. That was all it took for Damian’s body to finally give into the darkness. 

When Damian came to, he was in the batcave on a bed next to Dick. Dick was holding his hand, half asleep, pristine bandages wrapped around his head. Despite the calm scene next to him, the batcave was anything but. 

Tim and Cass were playing a video game on the huge monitor - correction, Tim was losing against Cass in a video game on the huge monitor - while Jason and Steph cheered them on. Alfred was cleaning up medical supplies when he noticed Damian’s attempt at awareness. 

“Master Damian,” Alfred greeted with a soft smile. Dick jerked awake, already grinning. “Dami! You’re awake!” The game was paused as four more people came rushing to his bedside. 

Damian hated being on pain meds. The sight of his family being so worries about him was enough to make him want to hug them. Humiliating. 

“How are you feeling?” Tim asked. Before Damian could bite back with a harsh ‘fine’, his emotions betrayed him. 

“Thank you,” he muttered, surprising no one more than himself. “Thank you for always coming for me.” Damian bit back the rest of his words, and the tears. He refused to be as pathetic and young as they expected of him. 

Dick saw right through him, he always did. He reached over and hugged Damian - something that was quickly becoming a normal action, not that Damian could bring himself to mind. “We love you.” 

[dstprl]

I am sure you have been on Social Media and seen an ad pop up for Peloton which is why I decided to write my Peloton Bike review.  First and foremost let me say when my husband started eyeing this bike around January of this year I was skeptical.

The considerations

For one, he already had a bike which he wasn’t using and when I looked at the price tag of the Peloton I was shocked to say the least.  Then he informed me there is a monthly $39 subscription you want to have because without it, the bike really won’t be used at full capacity.

After thinking about it and hearing my husband talk about it I agreed to getting one.  It arrived in March 2018 and I suspect, to get me to buy in even more, my husband bought me cycle shoes that clip into the Peloton pedals.

We did not purchase everything Peloton such as the water bottles, dumbbells, foam roller, earphones or shoes but we do have a few hoodies and t-shirts because they are cute.

[Tweet “Read all about my #Peloton bike experience and whether you should get one. #pelotonride #femmefitalefitclub”]

Price

I started off balking at the price of a Peloton bike which is around $2,300.  That is not easy for many to swallow but they do have payment plans which is a plus.  That price is only for the bike.  In order to enjoy the online Live and On-Demand classes you need the monthly subscription which is an additional $39.

As you can see it can add up.  Again, if you can move past the sticker shock they do have payment plans which can ease the cost burden on some.

Classes

There are hundreds upon hundreds of classes available with the subscription such as cycling (of course), running, and yoga to name a few.  I am extremely impressed with the amount of classes offered beyond just cycling.

Class durations vary from 5 minutes to 60 minutes and you can filter on them or also by:

class type,

instructor,

music genre or

category (hard, new, most popular, etc.)

Please note, all of the classes are not children friendly.  In certain classes the instructor may use profanity or the lyrics to the songs played aren’t the clean version.

If that isn’t your cup of tea, no problem, they have classes with all genres of music from Country to 80’s Pop to R&B.  Choose what you like, there’s a lot of variety so you are bound to find something you enjoy.

Community

One thing I like a lot about Peloton is the sense of community they provide on Social Media.  They have a private Peloton Page group for Peloton users and each instructor runs their own private group.

People share their personal records with each other, post tons of photos and are very helpful and encouraging when questions are asked by newbies such as myself.

The Peloton app

The app is where you access all the classes unless you have the Peloton Tread.  It allows you to build a profile and share the classes you completed to Social Media.  You can also follow friends there.

While I like and reciprocate a follow for a follow on the Peloton app there isn’t much else there when it comes to socializing.  BTW follow me at Diatta.  You can’t message each other but you can see how many rides or activities they completed and the amount of rewards they’ve collected.

The Peloton ride

The Peloton rides are HIGH ENERGY even the ones for beginners or low impact.  If you’re riding a live or on-demand class, you can virtually high five others who are participating in the class with you.  There’s a bunch of Live and On-Demand cycle classes to choose from as far back as 6 months so pick a class and enjoy yourself.

During the rides there are a lot of features as well such as viewing your heart rate, if you wear a monitor, viewing the artist and song title playing and the leadeboard.

The leaderboard is where you can see all those who ever took the ride, where you rank and who may be riding with you at the same time you are.  You can also see how their output compares to yours which, if you are competitive, can help you push beyond your comfort zone and hit a new PR.

Instructors

I can’t say enough about the Peloton instructors.  I have not even come CLOSE to taking them all because there are a handful which play the music I like so I tend to take their classes over and over but from Robin Arzon to Ally Love to Alex Toussaint you really can’t go wrong.

Some of the instructors also teach multiple disciplines such as cycle, boot camp and running.  I like the versatility of its instructor team.  Each instructor as their own unique style but I’ve found they all keep me interested and motivated during the workout.

All positive attitudes, all smiles and very attractive people, can’t go wrong there.  Many even shout you out on Social Media.

I’ll leave the Instagram names of the ones I follow below.  All you have to do is click on the photo and follow them.

💥 READY 💥 My everyday is just like yours…underneath it all lies all the hard work and effort to be ready when the time comes. I’m #RipReady with the #ZNE fit… how do you stay ready?👇🏽 #adidasathletics #createdwithadidas @adidas

A post shared by A l l y L o v e (@allymisslove) on Aug 30, 2018 at 7:54pm PDT

Ally Love @AllyMissLove

I’m out! 💃🏽 See you on Sept. 7 @onepeloton, Fam. Off to Burning Man. ✈️

A post shared by Robin Arzon (@robinnyc) on Aug 22, 2018 at 4:39pm PDT

Robin Arzon @RobinNYC

My superpower is inner fire. I ignite the 🔥 of transformation in myself & others, every 👏🏼damn 👏🏼 day!👏🏼 As the superheroes of our own narrative we must play out our purpose with the same conviction Superman has to justice & truth and Batman to protect Gotham. Your role here is that important! 🌟 SUPERHERO CHECKLIST: ✅ Define your life’s purpose & align EVERYTHING with it! ✅Refuse to listen to any inner or outer voice that says you can’t. ✅Gather a team & collaborate. ✅ Plan to always be uncomfortable. ✅ Be brave AF & lead with love, simultaneously. 💥 If u were a superhero, what would your power be? Why?

A post shared by Jessica King (@jesskingnyc) on Sep 3, 2018 at 10:57am PDT

Jess King @JessKingNYC

Feel Good. Look Good….Do Better!! #Vibecheck #Justdoit #NYC

A post shared by Alex T (@alextoussaint25) on Aug 18, 2018 at 3:48pm PDT

Alex Toussaint @AlexToussaint25

running into the holiday weekend ….. 💨💨💨 we work so hard to enjoy life! celebrate the extra day fam and treat yo’self 🌭🍔 @asics @iamwellandgood @wilhelminamodels #iamwellandgood

A post shared by Olivia Amato (@oamato) on Aug 31, 2018 at 5:48am PDT

Olivia Amato @OAmato

Quick question… What is your actual motivating factor? 💫 What I mean is, what is the root of your motivation? What is feeding your desire? Is it Soul or is it Ego? We say yes to so many things yet possibly never ask ourselves often, if ever, why? Why are we doing things that don’t always feel right or are what we need or want, or can afford just to keep up with the joneses. We say yes to dinners, coffees, meetings, trips, clothing, buying trendy items, moving, relationships, and of course exercise. If I took a poll asking you if they actually enjoy working out, would you say yes? If not, why do you workout? So, you lace up to run. 🏃🏼‍♀️ Why? Do you run to look better or because you actually love the feeling of running? That runners high, that accomplishment of completing a task, a claimed moment of your day that’s device-free 📲 and simply yours, a necessary mental break and “you time”, a treat for your body, a method to focus your competitive spirit, a way to spend time with friends? Is your choice to move initiated by positivity or by a feeling of negativity? When we choose to move because we hate our bodies we run the risk of disappointment in achieving a goal that is never good enough in our heads, never mind the fact that the entire time you spend getting to said point you’ve carried along a negative motivating factor with you into a positive space! How will you create love ❤️ where you bring hate? Both are green, just depends which grass gets watered. Let today be the day we change our approach to the things we do. Approach work, friendships, partnerships, and your personal relationship with yourself with love and see how fast you mind and world starts to change. When we do things that feed our soul instead of our ego the end is no longer in sight. The sacred relationship with yourself will begin to improve, fast…. be sweet to yourself, and don’t be afraid to find your truth. Dig deep and look for the reason you actually are doing the things you do. ______________________ #createthelove #truth #rksolid #motivation #tuesday #train #trainpeloton #traintuesday #transformationtuesday #transformation #abs #run #running #workout #ego #soul

A post shared by Rebecca Kennedy: RKsolid (@rksolidnyc) on Aug 28, 2018 at 5:47pm PDT

Rebecca Kennedy @RKSolidNYC

I feel that I’ve become more empathetic/understanding in my years spent in NYC. The truth is… the struggle is real… I don’t know anybody who hasn’t fallen flat on their face at least once here. I’m speaking from experience: when you fall flat on your face here, you don’t just fall, you get trampled over 10 times, kicked in the ribs, and then splashed with 20 buckets of icewater. “WAKE UP” she tells you! It takes a resilient, strong human being to peel themselves back up off the ground after, and find that hustle again. It takes a champion… My city is full of champions. BLESS you NEW YORK CITY. #newyork #hustle #champions

A post shared by Selena Samuela (@selenasamuela) on Aug 28, 2018 at 6:00am PDT

Selena Samuela @SelenaSamuela

When I started

When I first started on the Peloton bike I had trouble clipping in.  I struggled.  Hubby tried to coach me and I was trying my best but could not clip those shoes in to save my life.

He sort of had to half wear my shoe and clip them in for me and then I put them on while clipped in to the pedal.  I know I know but I’m much better now.

I also struggled clipping out.  A few times I just left the shoes clipped in and went on with my day because my legs were too tired to try and/or I was catching cramps.  OUCH!

After the first 4 rides, 4 days in a row my butt stayed sore even though my husband had a cushion on the seat.  It’s just the nature of the beast.  It gets better as I no longer get sore since I’m riding my regularly  now and I’m 24 rides in (woohoo) but my butt can get numb if I sit too long.

I remedy the problem by standing when that happens.

What kept me interested – FRIENDS

Once I found some of my friends actually owned Peloton, and we started following each other, we would schedule when we would take the same classes either live (which start early in the morning East Coast time) or on-demand (which are available all day long).

That made it very fun for me because we could see each other’s results and it felt like we were together even though we were states away.

They do have a neat feature where you can click on the person’s profile during the ride and click Live Video and actually see the other person riding LIVE.  I did that once with a friend who lives in North Carolina and it was very cool.

It was during a live class.  I thought that was very cool.

The other classes I’ve taken

Besides cycling, I’ve also taken the strength training and tread classes  which are very good.  The strength training tends to last about 10 minutes (at least those are the ones I chose) but they have longer classes.  I just never had time to do more or go longer.

  The tread classes

The tread classes are excellent and what got me back interested in Peloton to begin with.  I typically run on my own treadmill and mirror the class from my iPhone 7 to my Apple TV flat screen so I have the big screen and speaker experience.

Feels like I’m actually in the studio with them.

We do hills, sprint drills, combinations and all sorts of things which really keeps the heart rate up and the fat burning which is what I like.  They even have walking classes for those who need a recovery day or can’t handle all of the pounding from running.

I’ve tried a few of those and believe it or not, those are very challenging too.  As you can imagine they crank up the incline.

So far there hasn’t been 1 instructor or 1 class I didn’t enjoy.  I’ve gotten up and worked out completely tired and not feeling it but once I hear that peppy voice and motivating quotes and words…it’s on.  I fix my attitude and get into it.

What could be better

I honestly can say there aren’t any suggestions or recommendations I have for Peloton at this time to improve upon.  Granted I was having issue connecting my heart rate monitor but found out it was my error not theirs.

It’s a very innovative company and I look forward to some new products and services they come out with.

My rating

As if you could not tell, I give Peloton 10 out of 10 stars.  There are programs for every fitness level which I love, there are various types of programs by music genre and duration which offers up options for people who have the time or have limited time.

They’ve thought of everything.  The instructors are positive, attractive and motivating.  They also shout out people riding in the studio or at home during the live rides which I find extremely thoughtful.

I can’t thank my husband enough for having the vision and thought to purchase this awesome package of equipment and classes which has taken our at-home workout game to the next level.

I enjoy it very much, plan to ride more days on than off and highly recommend you research and consider getting one for yourself.

Perhaps we can ride virtually together in a live or on-demand class and push each other further.  To quote several of the instructors “You ain’t hustlin’ if you ain’t strugglin’”.  Let’s GO!

Are you interested in purchasing a Peloton?

Leave any questions you have that I haven’t answered in comments below.

My Peloton Bike Experience and Review I am sure you have been on Social Media and seen an ad pop up for Peloton which is why I decided to write my Peloton Bike review.