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#shout it off the rooftops at all times
bittersweetresilience · 4 months
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sunny's year half year in review
because i am all about that self celebration 👏
achievements
🏅 joined a fandom 🏅 got married (🌖) 🏅 made friends (🏮🌺🌋🍜🍀🕊️🦌🧬💤🦎🦭☄️✍️🪨🪶🦚💝🎞️🪄🍞) 🏅 learned new things (📸🪡📑) 🏅 sunnyscrambles
creations
an ongoing amélie dissertation in sentitwin soulmate au. next chapter will be posted on new year's day and will feature art from @moonieratty!
félix and amélie webweaves. my favorites that i've made! all literature is from my graham de vanily reading lists.
ladynoir amv. so many episodes in this. my storage space...
multifandom webweave. the first one i made and still very important to me!
i entered a feverish haze after @nemaliwrites's remixes introduced me to a softer world and the result was Feelings.
my favorite fic i wrote this year. mind the trigger warnings.
recommendations
running in the shadow
i cannot describe how much this fic means to me. i left hundreds of messages during my liveread and i wept all through my comment and my reblog and still it's not nearly enough. it's one of my favorite gifts, one of my favorite fics, and one of my favorite works of art i've ever seen. thank you to @wackus-bonkus-maximus for being a role model, an inspiration, and my first fandom friend.
i love you (for senti-mental reasons)
as the head of the as time goes by pr team, i would be remiss not to recommend something from this series! félix in this universe makes me turn into dynamite. second recommendation is betcha on land (they understand). i'm a big fan of @redundant-lava, you see.
i know there's been pain this year (but it's time to let it go)
what's there not to like about @ninadove's sentitwins? her christmas fic blew me away. i love her creative costume designs, her references to classics and video games, and her accompanying fic art. honorable mentions to la nuit, tous les chats sont gris and everything i did (i did for you).
bon voyage
one of the original highlights of my summer. the dream sequence in chapter four blew my mind. the way this fic was planned to end drives me nuts in the best way.
bell the cat
the single most amazing fantasy au i've read. i'm regularly awed by how incredible it is, and awed by @heartfulselkie's writing, art, and person in general. if i learned how to bind books, this would be at the top of my list. i keep saying it because it's true.
thirteen
our monthly dosage of pain, exquisite backstory exploration, and gorgeous @anna-scribbles prose. i'm always a sucker for pre-canon and this is The fic for adrien pre-canon fans. christmas félix will make me explode.
a rose by any other name
i love everything @asukiess makes but shoutout to loveybug au for being such a fun and creative time for the lovesquare fandom. this fic also comes with the loveyvelours art of all time. the other day i started thinking about kuro neko unprompted. autumn is in my brain...
phoenix félix
this isn't a fic, but i'll never miss a chance to scream about art by @luckychatons. phoenix félix is immortalized in my discord profile picture. i'm blessed to receive secret félix doodles and catsona designs on the down low!
moonie
just scroll through their entire art account. everything they make is an eye feast, and they haven't even posted the half of it. my partner and creative inspiration. the moon to my sun. buy them a coffee for always supporting dead girls club.
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chaoskreeves · 5 months
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God my anxiety has been through the roof recently
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threadbaresweater · 2 months
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megumi's friends can tell when he's thinking about you.
"fushiguro, you're turning red again."
"megumi's got that look in his eyes..."
"hey lover boy, your feelings are showing."
he'll glower at them, but there's a hint of a smile that curls its way onto his face, and his eyes sparkle when he scratches the back of his neck and looks away. "shut up."
"did she text you?"
"have you guys even kissed yet?"
there's laughter at the table, remnants of lunch scattered about. megumi pokes at his leftover rice and rests his chin in his hand. he has kissed you, in fact. it may or may not be what he was thinking about before his friends interrupted him with their good-natured ribbing.
he doesn't divulge many details to anyone about you or your blossoming relationship. the moments you share are for you and him only. it isn't that he's embarrassed of you. far from it. he's filled with an overwhelming urge to shout it from the rooftops that he likes you, and you like him back, and when he holds your hand he feels all those horribly cliché emotions that he's only ever read about.
he doesn't understand how he got so lucky, and he doesn't want to ruin it. he doesn't want to scare you off with just how devoted he is. so he tampers it down. he plays it cool, indifferent even, and pretends that you don't occupy every thought when you're not at his side (and sometimes even when you are).
"hi megumi."
he can't breathe when he hears your voice. nobara and yuuji wave and smile while megumi turns around to see you standing there, lunch tray in hand, your smile brilliant and adoring.
"can I sit with you?"
"we were just talking about you!" nobara says, elbowing yuuji in the ribs. if looks could kill, megumi would be accused of first degree murder.
you slide into the seat next to your boyfriend and laugh lightly. "well, I hope it was good talk!"
"we were teasing fushiguro about how–"
"shut up," he warns, though there's little threat detectable in his expression because he's rendered into hopeless fluff when you're this near.
yuuji holds his hands up in surrender. "fine, fine! but I bet she'd think it's cute that you–"
"–look like a total sap when you're thinking about her," nobara says before he can kick her under the table fast enough.
"it's no different than the way he looks at me normally," you say through a smile. the two friends on the other side of the table howl with laughter. megumi looks like he wants to dissolve. "it's cute."
you're left alone eventually, just the two of you, and megumi reaches for your hand. he's tentative, as if holding himself back from touching you in a more intense way.
"no one's ever told me I'm cute," he says. he's looking at you with those lovestruck eyes again, and your tummy does a flip or two.
"well, they're blind," you insist. he doesn't know how to respond to that, so he squeezes your hand a little harder.
"I think you're beautiful. and I think about you all the time," he admits.
it's your turn to feel flustered, but the way he's so earnest about his compliments makes it hard to tear your gaze away from his face. "Thank you," you whisper.
neither of you really know how love is supposed to work, but you think maybe you're on the right track.
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moralesispunk · 3 months
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I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one
simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.
it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.
that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.
and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.
but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.
simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.
you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.
"think you can start making a move on that?"
a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.
they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.
"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.
that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.
they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.
"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.
"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that
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writing-fanics · 3 months
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don’t mess with the devil
Part ii
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
[warning: angst: mentions of death: death?]
Your movements became sluggish. The wound on your side bleeding more and more with each movement, and swing of your angelic weapon. “Can’t even hold a weapon.” Adam mocked, as she glared at him. Already tired and she looked down at her wound. “Who would’ve thought a fucking human, making a deal with the devil.”
“Was it for dick? It was for dick wasn’t it?” Adam laughed, and mocked. You let out a battle cry flying towards him.
You screamed in pain, as the yellow light shot right through your wing. Your wings started going weak, as you struggled to keep up with Adam’s attacks. He laughed and cackled, taking enjoyment in your struggle.
“Where’s your little boyfriend huh?” He mocked, as more and more yellow shots kept hitting your body. Until you could barely keep your body up, “awe, is he not coming to scared to show his fa-”a fist punched, Adam in the face. Causing him to let go of your chin, but you didn’t fall instead.
A pair of familiar arms held you, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t be here sooner,” said Lucifer, as he nuzzled his head against his partner. Then lifted his head and glared at Adam, eyes fuming with rage.
“Sorry, for being so stubborn.” You mumbled, knowing this was the reason he didn’t want you to fight. Even though, he gave you some of his powers. You were still a human. He nuzzled, his head against yours once more. “It’s okay,” He said, as he landed on the rooftop.
He handed you off to Charlie, his daughter taking your injured body into her arms. She looked down at you worriedly, as you took shallow breaths. Your face battered cuts and bruises covered your face, and your right eye was swollen. Landing on the rooftop, walking towards Adam.
“Huh? Okay? Seriously?” Adam panted, as he stood up slowly. “How many of you freaks do I have to fight?!” He shouted, glaring at them.
Lucifer rolled up his sleeves, as he walked towards Adam. “Oh, I’m the only one that matters.” said Lucifer, as he looked up at Adam angrily.
“See, you messed with my daughter and my partner.” his eyes burning with rage. “and now I’m toning to fuck you!” he shouted, and everyone went silent as they stared at him dumbfounded.
Charlie leaned over, “It’s fuck you up dad?” Charlie whispered, and he looked confused as he raised his eyebrow, “Wait what did I say?” He said, and then Adam flew towards him sending them both into a wall. But Lucifer transformed into a white snake.
You could barely keep your eyes open, as the pain became worse. You didn’t know how much blood you were losing, but knew it was a lot. You were just a mere human, a human who fell in love with the king of hell. Him inevitably giving you some of his power in an act of love.
Your memories of how you ended up in Hell, a blur. You still figuring out a way to at least see your family again. But now that seemed to be in vain. You wondered if this was how it was going to end for you. You wondered, what would happen to you a human dying in hell?
Would you be dead forever no second life? Or would you just enter purgatory?
“So, this is what you’ve been up to since Eden?” said Lucifer, taunting him.
“Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy.” He said, as he taunted Adam.
Adam laughs, as he grabbed Lucifer by the tail. “You judgin’ me?” He shouted angrily, as he tried to throw him. But he transformed again, this time into a duck. “You’re the most hated being in all of creation.” Adam shouted, angrily looking at him.
“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer.” said Lucifer, as he made a V shape with his fingers and dragged it downward from his mouth.
“or the second.” He said looking Adam straight in the face, “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.” He said, as he backed away making a thrusting motion with his hips. Adam lunched at him, and Lucifer transformed into a horse. Kicking him around, “I’ll fuckin’ end you!!” Adam shouted.
Your vision started to blur, as you leaned your head against the wall You didn’t want to die not like this, not without seeing your parents again. Wondering if they’re worried about their missing child, who they haven’t seen in almost a year.
You’ve been stuck in Hell for that long. Lucifer and You, still figuring out a way to get you back. But you always promised that you’d stay in Hell with him, and visit your friends and family once in a while.
Maybe this was to be your fate, dying in Hell. Where would your soul go? You couldn’t imagine the heartbreak your death would bring to both, Charlie and Lucifer. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them cry, you’ve grown to love them so much. Seeing Charlie as a child of your own.
Lucifer your partner. The best thing to ever come out of being trapped in Hell. He was so kind and caring, when he found out about your situation. Wanting to help you anyway he could, which led him to falling in love. How his heart swelled whenever you smiled at him, turning his cheeks red.
How seeing you cry made his heartache, knowing you missed your family and friends back on earth. How when that ‘Red Bastard’ at the Hazbin Hotel, took your hand and kissed him while staring mockingly at Lucifer. Boiled his blood.
A smiled grew across your lips, as you grew tired. You were too tired to even notice the beam of light, heading straight towards the hotel. Towards you. Everything went dark.
Y/n?
Y/n?
Y/n!
who’s calling my name?
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thestarkinternship · 3 months
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Mine
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)
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Summary: When you went out for drinks with the team one Friday, you had no idea that this was how the night would end: with your back pressed flush against your bedroom door, a shaking thigh hitched over your boyfriend's shoulder and his pretty mouth daring you to completely let go for everyone to hear.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: no mention of Y/N, profanity, oral sex (female receiving), jealous!Bucky, posessive!Bucky, slight praise kink, slight exhibitionism (people overhearing), hickeys, MINORS DNI!
A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this and i was (still am) very nervous to post it. But I promised myself I'd get back into writing, even if this is how I'm doing it. Thank you @ellemj for encouraging me to do this <3
"What do you think you were playing at tonight, huh?" Bucky's low voice caught your attention the second the pair of you walked through the door to your room. Looking up from the dresser where you had set your purse down, you met his eye. What once were bright blue had now clouded over with something else, something darker. Jealousy.
A lot of things came from having a secret relationship with Bucky. You got to see the sweet, caring side that he showed to no one else. You got to be the one he trusted most, and in turn place your trust in him. Above all else, you got to love each other. Tenderly, passionately, consumingly. And to you, the best part of it was that the other Avengers were none the wiser. All of the love and shared moments were kept just for you, hidden in late night walks and early morning kisses. It was better kept that way, you had always thought. No one was able to interfere with what they didn't know about.
But Bucky's mind thought differently, even if he had never wanted to admit it. He would've shouted from the rooftop of the Avenger's tower how much he loved you if you would've asked him to. He'd wrap a strong arm around your curves in front of everyone and kissed you on the cheek, a proud grin on his face as he got to show off the fact that you were all his. But he'd suppressed how he really wanted to act in favour of keeping you happy. After all, that was what mattered to him most of all.
That was until tonight. Bucky knew he was in trouble from the second you set foot in the place. There you were, your skirt grazing the top of your thighs, your long sleeved black shirt clinging to your curves like an elastic band. His eyes were no longer the only ones on you, and there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it. Until now that you were back home.
"What are you talking about?" You asked quietly, looking up at him.
"You know damn well what i'm talking about." He took a daring step closer to you.
With a mind of their own, your feet took a hesitant step back, the soft click of your heels dragging across the floorboard in the uncomfortable silence. It wasn't like you were afraid of him, you never had been. But there was a dangerous atmosphere surrounding him that made you nervous.
He closed in on you as you didn't answer. Leaning down, his lips hovered close to your own, leaving just enough space for his thumb to reach up and trace your quivering bottom lip. You'd always thought it felt more personal when he touched you with his right arm. As much as you loved the feel of the cool metal sliding acros your skin, it was like he craved the true feeling of the flushed heat from your skin as it reacted to his touch and his touch only. In between your shaky breaths, his thumb dipped between your parted lips. But you resisted the urge to suck on it in the way he liked until you got to the bottom of what was getting this much of a rise out of him. When he saw that you weren't giving in to him just as he wanted, Bucky's tongue rolled in his own mouth.
Fine, if that's how you were going to be. He thought stubbornly.
He withdrew his thumb from your mouth, dragging down your bottom lip as he leaned in to capture it in a hungry kiss. As confused as you were about the whole thing right now, one thing was certain - when it came to kissing Bucky Barnes, you were certainly not about to complain or ask him to stop. His metal arm flew to your hip, the soft material of your skirt bunching up in his fist. You shivered slightly as the vibranium unintentionally brushed against your bare skin. Still holding onto you, he guided your hips back until you heard the soft thud of your body against the door as your back pressed against it. His right hand slid from the side of your face and to the nape of your neck. Reaching up, Bucky tugged gently at the root of your curls, twirling the soft strands around his rough hand. A soft gasp left your mouth, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. You welcomed the feeling, giving in to him completely as the curious thoughts about what had led you to this position slipped from your mind.
And just as quickly as it had began, his lips were gone. They trailed across your trembling jaw and down the soft juncture of your neck. His tight grip released your hair, and your head nearly fell slack against his at the sudden loss of the physical control over you. Bucky tilted your chin back up and to the side, his precise movements giving him all of the access to your exposed throat that he desired. Delicate kisses on your skin turned rough, and his teeth gently nipped at you to earn soft whimpers. He smirked against your skin, rolling it between his full lips even harder.
"Fuck, you're gonna leave a mark…" you whined, "Bucky, you're being too damn rough, you're gonna…"
Bucky finally let go off your skin, but kept dangerously close to your ear instead. There was a split second before he spoke where all you could here was his panting breaths, and that alone kept your heart pounding.
"Maybe I should mark you up," Bucky's voice was ragged, "send you down to breakfast tomorrow morning covered in hickeys that I gave to you, just to remind Steve every time that he sets eyes on your pretty face that you're mine."
Your hazy eyes shot wide open. There it was. That's what this whole ordeal had been about? Bucky was jealous of Steve?
"Wh-what do you mean?" You could barely stutter out.
"Back in the bar tonight."
You swallowed nervously as you cast your mind back over the events of the evening. Being excited to see everyone. Knocking back several drinks over the course of the evening. Bucky smirking as you found any excuse to get close to him without anyone noticing. Nodding politely in your conversation with Steve as you tried to distract yourself from the less than pure thoughts that arose whenever you made eye contact with Bucky. Thinking about how good he looked in that leather jacket. Wondering how long it would be before you'd be dragging him back to the tower and taking it off him- Fuck. You were doing it again.
Bucky's face softened when he realised that you truly had no idea what he was talking at. He chuckled slightly at your obliviousness. How could someone so intelligent miss the careless flirtation thrown her way from her teammate?
"He was flirting with you all night, you know?" Bucky pulled back slightly, his hand moved from your chin to cup the side of your face. His earlier confidence wavered as he suddenly felt a pang of guilt for getting so jealous. "Did you really not see how he was looking at you? I swear, he must've pulled every trick in the book to try and get your attention tonight."
Looking past the jealously, you saw a vulnerability. The fear that he might lose you to someone else. You hummed gently, stroking his cheek as he kept you so close.
"How was I supposed to notice when all of my attenion was on you?" You asked gently.
He smiled at your reassurance. "Really?"
"Of course, James."
"And what about right now? Where is all of your attention?" Bucky tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"Right on you." You murmured, watching him lean in again.
"Exactly where it should be." His hand left your face. It trailed down your neck, and then your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as it joined his vibranium one at your hips.
And suddenly, his lips picked up where they left off, kissing and teasing your skin. He bent his head down further to your collarbone, and then the crest of your cleavage as it peeked out of your lowcut top. Squirming, your back arched away from the door and into his waiting arms. The subtle movement of your body gave Bucky space to slip his hand up under your skirt to cup your ass. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh as he hooked your leg around his waist, pressing his hips against yours. A soft gasp echoed from your trembling lips as you felt just how hard he was through his jeans.
"Can't say I blame Steve when you look this good, doll. So fucking pretty. And it's all for me.. God, I don't know how much longer I can keep us a secret. Want everyone to know you're mine." He mumbled in quick succession as his lips worked their way back across your skin to capture you in another sweet kiss.
"What if I want that too?" You asked softly, biting your lip.
The corners of his lips tugged into a smirk. "You sure? I thought-"
"I'm tired of hiding us," you interrupted, "i'm yours, and it's time everyone else knew."
"If that's what you want…" He teased, an idea playing out in his mind as he dropped to his knees in front of you.
"Bucky, what are you-" Your own gasp cut you off as you felt him lift you leg, resting it over his shoulder. He kissed your inner thigh and your head fell back against the door.
Oh, that's where he was going with this.
Tracing lazy circles up your thigh, his mouth worked it's way up. Every movement made left you needy and wanting more. Soft moans from you filled the room, and his enhanced hearing heard every one as your thighs cushioned his ears. The sounds you made when he hadn't even touched you yet were embarassing. But you couldn't help yourself. Bucky knew how to push you closer to the edge better than anyone, and he wasn't afraid of showing it. By the time he reached the edge of your underwear, you were done for. Your arousal soaked through the thin material, and you knew he could feel it. Bucky chuckled slightly against the lace fabric, his heavy breath sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. Hips stuttering against his face, you grinded closer in a desperate need for him to do something else. Anything else.
"What's the matter, hm?" He murmured, licking right up to your clit. Even over your underwear, the touch was more than enough to make your body quiver.
"Bucky…" You whined, running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly.
"Someone's awfully needy," He tutted. Looking up at you, Bucky grinned like a devil as your wetness spread across his pink lips, "Who's got you like this?"
But you were so far gone in your own world that you almost didn't hear him. When you didn't immediately answer him, he grew impatient. Bucky's tongue rolled over the flimsy lace once again and your thigh tensed over his shoulder. The stem of your heel dug into his back slightly, drawing him in closer to you. To where you so desperately wanted him to be.
"Tell me." His voice was hoarse and demanding.
Another flick of his tongue. Another cry from your lips. "Y-you… always you."
"Good girl." He paused momentarily, hooking his thumb under the delicate edge of your underwear and ripping it to the side. You gulped nervously at the tearing sound of it as he finally set eyes on your bare core. "And now I want you to let everyone in this damn building hear it."
-
The next morning at breakfast was awkward to say the least. When you walked into the kitchen midmorning, legs still shaking, all eyes were on you.
"Morning." You mumbled, avoiding eye contact as you prayed no one would bring up the night before. You simply wanted them to realise you were dating Bucky now, and leave it at that, not another word mentioned. The few team members already there smiled politely, ignoring the obvious elephant in the room. As you wrapped your hands around a coffee mug, the sleeves of Bucky's sweater encase your hands. The cheeky bastard had insisted that you wear it today 'for good measure', because apparently the way you had screamed his name all night long wasn't enough. It still smelled like his cologne, marking both the jumper and you with traces of him. You kept your head down, hair covering the purple marks on your neck. As the strands brushed over the sensitive skin, you winced.
"Everything okay?" Steve asked quietly, glancing your way.
As you turned to meet his eye, your carefully placed hair shifted. Steve's gaze dropped to your neck, eyes widening at the sight he was met with. Looking over the purple that stained your skin, he swallowed nervously whilst trying to find the right words to say.
Eventually, he cleared his throat and spoke what was on everyone's mind. "So, uh… last night… was that you that we heard with… you guys are…"
"Yeah." Your head snapped up to the doorway of the kitchen. Bucky leaned against the frame, his arms folded across his chest and a smug grin plastered across his face, "She's mine. And don't you ever forget it."
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flamingpudding · 5 months
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Cassiopea and Orion
Ellie had a plan. She promised she had one. This wasn't like when Clocky would sent her off on a mission through time with nothing more but a little note with a cryptic message on what to do.
Danny had given her clear instruction. Before one of her many travels to see the world, Danny, in his mid twenties and she in her late teens, had taken her aside once. Telling her about specific instruction she should follow, should she ever find herself in a moment of need, and Danny wasn't able to help her.
Well, now she was in that kind of situation. Amity Park was destroyed with no survivors. Vlads castle was no more. Both Dan and her got deaged, but Dan had to be put in a frozen state when he started to destabilize. And Danny, he had gotten captured by the GIW shoving her out of harms way and telling her to remember what he told her before.
Ellie was pretty sure Danny was telling her to follow the emergency instructions.
So here she was now. In Gotham. Keeping to the shadows and trying to find her way around.
No one ever bothered to tell her how hard it was to navigate through a city like Gotham. You would think it would be easy to find some guy running around at night in an armored spandex furry costume.
But no, here she was, in a random alley. In a city, Danny had specifically told her to avoid it unless the emergency instruction came into play. Maybe she should just steal a map.
She was contemplatingly staring at a gas station for that until she noticed a shadow jumping over the roof tops. It took her only a second to decide on her next action. Ellie was pressed on time after all.
"Hey you!" She shouted loudly flying up to follow that shadow. "Wait up!"
Thankfully, the shadow listened and stopped on the next rooftop toward her. She insanity noticed it tensing. Now, she noticed that the shadow was a kid. He looked small, and Ellie figured he was probably around 11 or 12.
"You are one of the Bees and Birds, right?" She questioned once she floated a bit closer. Also the kid tensed up.
"You mean Bats and Birds." The kid clicked his tongue at her, crossing their arms.
"Bees, Bats, who cares. My question is you know the big bad bee, right?" She waved the kid of, she had more pressing matter than getting their animals right. "I need to get a message to him."
The kid clicked their tongue once more, huffing and muttering something she couldn't hear. Probably talking to someone on a com. Either way, Ellie took his silence as a form of telling her to continue.
"Can you tell the big bad bee-" "Bat" "-the following?" She ignored the kid cutting in trying to get her message across and follow Danny's instructions to a T.
"Cassiopea is calling out to Orions Nursery before Rho dies to help her youngest."
There was long, drawn-out silence, and the kid was hissing something into coms. Ellie fidget with her finger nervously. Going through Danny's emergency instructions through her mind again until she hear a thud close to her and wirled around.
With wide blue glowing eyes, she looked up at the man dressed like a bat for a couple of seconds before taking on a defensive position. Eyes now narrowed at the man that was clearly studying her.
"I was under the impression that Phantom's youngest child was older. You appear to be no older than five."
"Yea well shit happened!" She shot back, still unsure if she could trust the man even if he mentioned Danny's hero alias. Her hands started to glow slightly as she prepared to attack in case things went back. But the man didn't appear to be phased by it. Not like the kid that was tensing up.
"You will be safe with us. But what happened to Phantom?"
Ellie eyes flicked over to the other kid that had now come closer to stand next to the bat guy before looking back to the big guy. She did not drop her stance yet. Still unsure of how much trust she can put here despite what Danny had told her, she had not yet heard the right response.
The man appeared to sense her distrust, as he kneeled to be on eye level with her. "Jupiter and Rho Cas will not be harmed. Orion gave Cassiopea his word."
Finally, Ellie relaxed, dropping her defensive stance but still watching the man with narrowed eyes. She hesitated a short moment before carefully saying her next words, hoping the man knew enough to k ow the grave meaning behind them.
"Phantom lost his haunt."
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sanguineterrain · 8 months
Text
sunset anew | dick grayson
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Summary: You're a little nervous to become the Mrs. Grayson. Luckily, your husband-to-be knows just what to say to soothe your worries. 
Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader 
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings/tags: wedding, anxious reader, the batfam actually gets along, fluff!! (dick is my wife.)
If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡
the divider
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Contrary to popular belief, Gotham isn't a complete eyesore. 
Sure, it's no vacation spot, and it's probably not the ideal place to settle down. But there are beautiful parts within the grunge. 
Your wedding planner had shown you multiple locations, from Napa to the Bahamas. Bruce had insisted cost was no problem.
But that wasn't what made you choose Gotham. 
Your forearms rest on the polished stone-top railing that surrounds the rooftop of the nicest hotel in the city. Thirty-two floors, all rented out for you. 
You look down at the tiny cars and people below. Your heart swoops. 
Your heels are in one hand. The sun crests the horizon; soon, yellow will melt into buttery orange and pink. It’s the first sunset you knew. The only sunset you know. And it’s the same one you saw the first time you met your almost-husband.
You'd come up here so you wouldn't miss it. Just this one time.
“Found her!”
You jump as the roof access door opens. Damian and Duke walk out. Duke gives you a warm smile.
"Jesus, you guys," you say, hand on your chest. “Way to scare a girl.”
“Sorry. You look really nice,” Duke says, smoothing his bowtie. 
Damian crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed.
“Frightening you is the least of our concerns. We thought you’d run. Which would be understandable, considering the family you’re marrying into, but Father spent a lot renting the hotel. Plus, Grayson would’ve been inconsolable, and extremely annoying.”
“Dude,” Duke says, elbowing Damian. “Chill out. It’s not like she was actually going to leave him at the altar.” He squints at you. “Were you?”
“No! I wasn’t going to leave him at the altar, oh my God.”
Damian nods. “Good." He taps his watch and speaks into it. "Grayson, our work is done. Come to the roof.”
Duke gives you a wave and they wordlessly leave the way they came. You sigh and start to slip your heels back on. There’s some whispering at the bottom of the stairs, and Damian shouts “no!” before it’s silent. 
You have one heel on when Dick emerges.
He’s unfairly handsome in his tux, hair somehow both neat and tousled. He also has what looks to be Damian’s tie wrapped around his eyes. You step out of your heel, unsure.
"Hey, sweetheart," he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you."
"It’s okay, baby. Why are you blindfolded?"
"Bad luck to see the bride, duh."
You can't help your idiotic grin at that. "I think it'll be fine, Gray. You didn’t have to take his tie.”
"Maybe you haven't met my family; we're not known for our good luck streaks.”
"I'm madly in love with you,” you say, feeling gooey.
Dick beams, and you nearly forget about the sunset altogether. 
"I'm madly in love with you too." 
You kiss him and he blindly returns it, following your lips even after you step back. You cluck your tongue and nudge him away. He obeys, though not without sliding his hand onto your waist and tugging you away from the roof. You follow because he's such a worrier.
Dick reaches for your hand and squeezes. 
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yeah. Sorry I disappeared. I didn’t know the calvary would be sent after me.”
“Yeah, uh…” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Again. I got worried.”
The guilt sinks its claws deeper. You frown and touch his cheek. 
“I would never leave you at the altar, Dick.”
“I know! I know that. They’re idiots; don’t listen to ‘em, whatever they said."
You cup his face with both hands and kiss him again. He squeezes your wrists and you can feel the relief rolling off him in waves, as much as he tries to hide it. 
“Was my absence noticeable?” you ask.
"Just to us. Don’t worry about it. The Wayne family are professional crowd entertainers."
"I take it Bruce is doing card tricks?"
"Yep,” Dick says. “He’s pretty good too. Might retire the suit." 
You laugh. "Sorry I'm missing it."
"Trust me, you'll get your fill soon."
“We can go down now,” you offer, even though you’re still waiting for that sunset. 
He shakes his head. “There’s no rush.”
You smile and rest your head on Dick's shoulder. He accepts you instantly and wraps his arm around your waist.
"You feel really beautiful," he says. 
"Charmer."
"I'm serious!"
"I know. That's why I'm so damn sweet on you, Gray."
"I've got a shot with you, then?" he asks. 
"Oh, big time." 
He nuzzles your neck. You breathe in his scent: wine from earlier, detergent, the hair gel he uses to effortlessly capture the bed head look. 
"We didn't have to do this today, you know,” he says, voice vibrating through you. 
You pick your head up in alarm. 
"What're you talking about?" 
"If-if you're getting cold feet, I mean," he adds. "Second thoughts. We can always reschedule."
"Dick, no, I'm not getting second thoughts. I want to marry you today. I will marry you, okay? We've been together for almost four years."
"So? You know how long Batman and Catwoman have been skirting around each other? We've all got a wager going. Including Alfred!"
You snort. "Okay, well, excuse me if I don't want your family to bet on how long it's going to take us to marry."
"Afraid that ship's sailed."
"Of course it has."
You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. His arms drape over your hips. You trace the shape of his lips with your index, up his Cupid's bow and up the tip of his nose. Dick has such a lovely nose. You've always thought so. 
“So who bet that I’d actually made a run for it?”
“That feels like a trick question,” he says. 
“Jason?"
“Jason adores you, actually. He didn’t doubt your loyalty once.”
“Damian had his doubts." 
“Damian's thirteen, he doesn’t know shit.”
You snort and kiss his cheek. “Well, I forgive him. He was protecting you, that’s all.”
"If it helps, everyone else was certain of your loyalty," Dick says, letting you paw at his face. “Myself included.”
"That does help, actually.”
Dick stops your hand in its journey and rests your palm on his cheek. 
"What were you thinking about?" he asks quietly. 
You stiffen a little. "Nothing. Just needed some air."
"You sure?" 
You know what he's doing: feeling your pulse to see if it changes, listening to your breathing, watching if your shoulders tense. He's a detective first, and a damn good one. 
You slump in defeat. 
"What if I'm not… good at this? At being… us?”
"What?" Dick asks in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Of course you’ll be good at it. The real worry is me, babe. I mean, you're incredible. I'm the one who runs around in spandex at night." 
"Gray, I'm serious," you say, resting your head on his heart. "All those people who’ve been watching us, waiting for the future Mrs. Grayson to slip up. I just—I can't help but wonder if it's prophetic. I wonder if maybe you deserve more." 
"Hey. Now I can't predict the future. But even if I could, I don't believe there is a timeline out there where I could ever want or need anyone but you. And you're not alone in this, you know? I'm scared too. I'm terrified I'm putting you in danger. Of fucking up completely. But I also know that sometimes… we get good things, you know? It's not all doom and gloom. I mean, you being in my life is proof of that." 
God, he always knows how to make your heart ache just right. 
"I really want us to work," you whisper, clutching his suit coat. "I just don't wanna let you down, Gray." 
"Baby," Dick says, curling around you. "Sweetheart, where did this come from? What makes you think that? You've never let me down, not once. I love you. It's okay if you feel like you don't know what you're doing, 'cause I don't know either." 
You reach to untie the tie. Dick lightly grabs your hand, but you continue to tug anyway. 
"Wait, babe—"
"Dick, it's okay. I want to see your eyes. Please?" 
He lets you pull it off. He squints at the light, adjusting. Then his gaze drops to you and his lips part.
"Wow," Dick says, hands sliding up your arms. 
You smile. "Like it? Selina helped me pick the dress, so it's all thanks to her."
"Fuck, baby. I wanna marry you right now. Screw everyone down there. Let's elope."
You laugh, combing back his hair with your fingertips and tucking loose strands behind his ears. 
"Gray, you know we can't do that. What about Bruce? He'd be devastated and more than rightfully pissed."
He shrugs. "So what? I'm the favorite, I can get away with it."
"Well, what about Alfred? You'd break his heart."
Dick pauses, mulling that over. You kiss his chin. 
"Damn it," he says. "You're right. I couldn't do that to him. He's arguably more excited about our wedding than we are." 
"Mmhm. But I appreciate your attempt to be spontaneously romantic," you say, smiling. 
Dick tugs you closer still, rubbing your back. 
"I would elope," he says. "If you really wanted to. You could convince me to do just about anything. Even if it unleashed Alfie's wrath."
"Don't tell me that," you chide playfully. "You'll give a girl all sorts of notions." 
"Oh, I'm counting on it."
Dick starts to kiss up your neck and you happily let him, eyes slipping closed. It's good, until—
THUMP!
You jump. Dick immediately pushes you behind him. 
The roof access door swings out so hard it slams against the wall. Jason glares, bowtie already loosened. 
"Are you fucking kidding me? You're gonna miss your own wedding, dumbass!" He nods at you. "Hey, future sis. Looking good." 
"Thanks, Todd." 
"Mm. Everything okay?" 
You smile. "Everything's wonderful."
"Yeah, I'm okay too, thanks," Dick says, scowling. 
"I know you're fine, idiot. Now come put a ring on it before Alfred hunts you down himself." 
Jason turns on his heel, shaking his head. "Responsible one, my ass…"
You look at Dick, grinning. 
"Seems like we should go do the marriage thing," you say.
"Seems like." He squeezes your hip. "Do you feel better?"
"Yeah, Gray. I do. Thanks. I love you."
"Love you too, baby. Let's go marry the hell out of each other." 
The sunset has morphed into a violet night. But you don't mind that you missed it; you know there will be countless sunsets to come. 
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ifimdreaming · 5 months
Text
come over?
luke hughes x reader
summary: you and luke have a secret/not so secret relationship
a/n: no warnings really, this is cute i think and very cringey fluff tbh. not proofread.
word count: 1.3k
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Keeping your relationship with Luke a secret from your friends was a hard enough task as it is, but having to keep it a complete secret from your family was proving to be an even more difficult task. It has been over 6 months of you and Luke being together now and everyday you just want to shout from the rooftops just how much you love him.
Although you knew being in the spotlight was 100% not what you wanted, it was so much harder than you thought to have to sneak around and pretend to be single around some of your very closest friends. And Luke knew how much it meant to the public for you to be known solely as ‘Luke Hughes’ Girlfriend’ so you had both agreed on the whole keeping-things-a-secret thing until further notice.
Because of this, It had been almost 2 weeks since you had last seen your boyfriend. Both you and him being respectively busy, and also having absolutely nowhere to spend time together as your two roommates had not been out of the house for any extended periods of time lately. And in the midst of that, Luke and Jack had a guest staying at their condo since the beginning of the month, making it nearly impossible for you to spend any time there at all.
This had you up late at night thinking about Luke for what felt like the millionth night in a row. wishing he was beside you instead of just your childhood stuffed animals. Wishing he was rubbing your back, soothing you to sleep, kissing your neck gently, tracing shapes on your skin - there were so many little ways he showed you his love and you missed every single one of them. And as much as you hated what was at risk with you sneaking him over - laying in bed dreaming about it caused absolutely no harm at all.
Pulling you out of your daydream, you hear buzzing begin to come from your phone that is left charging on your nightstand as you are trying desperately to fall asleep. You look over to see that it is Luke calling you, at almost 1:00 in the morning. You wonder if he had been up thinking about you too.
You reach over and grab your phone to answer him, “hi baby” you whisper into the phone, not wanting to wake up anyone else in your apartment.
“baby I cant sleep. I miss you so much” he says with a tired rasp in his voice. He lets out a sigh on the other end of the phone and its almost like he is right beside you. You can hear the longing in his voice and can just sense how frustrated he is with the single sigh.
“I miss you too lukey. I literally cant sleep either - ive just been up thinking about you” you say honestly. 
You have always been super honest with him about everything. Weather it be you telling him every single detail about how horrible your period is that week, how you absolutely dread doing the dishes and let them pile up for days before getting to them, how you refuse to go out past 5pm by yourself because you are terrified of being kidnapped, or explaining to him word for word why you love the movie ‘love rosie’ so much and how much it means to you when he agrees to watch it with you. Luke knew you so well and you knew him just the same. Because you always communicated with each other. about everything. No matter what. 
Thats why what he said next came as such a shock to you.
“Ive been thinking too..’’ he trails off, his tone quieter than before
You stay quiet on the other end of the phone, curious about what Luke is about to say and suddenly extremely aware of the fact that it is so late at night and he decided to call you without warning. After your silent thinking, you hum a quiet ‘mhm’ in response, urging him to continue.
“Ive just been thinking.. maybe I regret keeping things, with us, a secret for so long. I know I- We agreed to hold off, especially because of how it would affect your life and everything. And I know thats a really big deal. I dont want you to think im being selfish..” he begins, but waits for you to chime in with your thoughts.
Things have worked well this way for so long, that it surprised you he felt this way. Especially because Luke is a very private person in general, you assumed this is how he wanted things. It broke your heart if you made him feel like this was all your idea in the first place. You just thought it would be best for the both of you.
“Luke I dont know what to say. Honestly i thought we were on the same page so I didnt offer to change anything…” 
“How long have you felt like this?” you add, trying to speak loud enough but still with your voice in a whisper.
“I mean. I dont really know?” he says almost as a question
“Luke…” you urge him, hoping he will answer your question honestly.
“Well I guess - about a month now I guess? I know i shouldve said something sooner but I just didnt want to ruin anything. I know thats kind of..shitty..” He says regretfully
Theres the honest boy you know.
“I..I didnt know” you say. Honestly you ddnt know where to go from here. You wanted to tell everyone everything about your relationship at this very moment, but werent sure if thats where Luke was going with this.
“I- What are you thinking? I understand if you want to keep things the way they are. I wanna be clear that I really dont want to force you into changing anything. I just i couldn t keep it to myself anymore” 
It was so exciting to you knowing how much Luke cared about you. The way he cares for everyone around him has always been something you admire about him. He has the biggest heart in the world and you only hoped to be at least half as caring as him. Clearly this has been on his mind for a while and he cared so mch about your feelings towards it that he didnt want to let his feelings ruin what you have.
“Luke I love you, obviously as long as you know that, thats enough for me. But i do want everyone to know that too.” you say as the lump in your throat grows and tears well in your eyes. 
You honestly didn't know why this was making you emotional. But the combination of missing him, hearing him so delicately approach you with this, and knowing this might be the moment you get to share your love for him with the world, is making it hard to get your words out right now.
“I love you so much. and I want everyone to know I do too” he says matter of factly and your heart melts completely. 
You both sit in comfortable silence over the phone for a moment as your slight sniffles fill the quiet air. 
“I dont know why im crying..” you say through quiet laughter and hear Luke share laughter in response. He was so used to you being emotional over the most random things, this not surprising him one bit.
“What can i do baby?” 
You dont even have to think twice of your next response but pretend to be contemplating anyway,
“hmmmm, come over?” you respond hopefully. It thrilled you to think he might actually say yes. Even at 1:00 in the morning.
“Absolutely,” he says with a laugh and you grin ear to ear with giddy excitement, 
“give me 20 minutes”
-
-
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fandomxpreferences · 1 year
Text
Now Your Mess Is Mine
Masterlist
Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!reader (both over 18)
TW:angst, mentions of abuse, fluff, I think thats it
Summary: In which JJ is touch starved and you take care of him.
Word Count:2.7k
A/N: this was supposed to be short and fluffy but as per usual, it took on a life of its own
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JJ doesn't have a lot of things going for him in life as far as he's concerned. He's practically an orphan, he gets fired from every job, and he never has more than twenty dollars to his name. He hasn't done a lot right in his life, but the best decision he's ever made is choosing you. 
He's never felt a touch or a love as gentle as yours. Hell, for the first seventeen years of his life, he doesn't recall feeling anything but a fist. Then you came along, bright as the sun and radiating the most beautiful and intoxicating energy he's ever felt. 
You're always gentle with him, soft hands grazing his body whenever you get a chance. JJ didn't know that he craved physical affection until he felt your small supple hand in his large calloused one. 
He had no idea he loved cuddling until he was surrounded by you as you wrapped around him like a koala, an aroma of tanning lotion and saltwater overwhelming his senses.
He would've never imagined himself the type to take lavender-scented baths until you pulled him into the bubbles with a bright smile, giving him a beard as your loud giggles seeped into his soul and lit him up from the inside out.
Everything about you is pure and wholesome. Light radiates from you, casting away any semblance of darkness that once cast itself over him. You make him a better man, your face popping into his head before he makes a decision. 
He wants to make you proud, to honor and respect you. He wants to be someone you can call yours loudly, shouting it from the rooftops with no shame. He doesn't understand how or why you love him, but he chalks it up to you being some sort of angel.
The rest of the Pogues used to make fun of you two, but they've come to appreciate the way you even JJ out. The two of you are never more than a few feet apart, your bodies always touching in some capacity. 
It makes him feel safe and peaceful. It's the only thing he can think about as he lays on the HMS Pogue with you between his legs and his closest friends laughing around him.
JJ's eyes flutter closed as your nails rake across his scalp and he revels in the sun's rays as they warm his tan skin. He finds himself drifting off when your bubbly laughter floats to his ears and your belly shakes his head as it rests against you. 
It causes a large smile to split his face and he shifts to look up at you. There's nothing but pure child-like joy on your features with your head thrown back, your mouth open and the corner of your eyes creased. 
It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and he presses a kiss to your hip bone while squeezing your calf lovingly. It draws your attention back to him and you look down at him with a bright smile. 
"Hi." He whispers and you lean down to kiss the tip of his nose. 
"Hi, handsome." 
You hear Sarah say aww while John B gags dramatically and lift your hand to flip him off. 
"Are you having fun?" You ask and JJ nods with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 
You squint down at him and before you can ask what he's about to do, he's jumping to his feet and scooping you up in his arms. You let out a loud squeal and flail around as your laughter echoes off the water. 
"JJ Maybank don't you dare!" You shriek through loud giggles, but it's too late. 
His feet are already leaving the side of the boat and the two of you plunge into the ocean. You kick your legs as you resurface, wiping at your face and hair while JJ grins like a little boy. 
It's only a matter of seconds before you hear a chorus of splashes and the rest of the group joins in. Before you can blink, there's an all-out splash fight, the six of you laughing and having the time of your lives. 
You're just dodging an attack from John B when you feel strong arms wrap around your waist and JJ takes the brunt of the water being sent your way. 
You turn and wrap your legs around his waist, your arms moving up to hug around his neck. 
"What are you doing, mister?" You ask with a quirked eyebrow and he leans in to give you a sweet kiss. 
"I was starting to have withdrawals, baby. You know I can't go more than a few minutes without feeling you." 
You almost laugh, but the sentiment goes straight to your heart and your features soften. 
"I love you." 
He nuzzles his head into your neck, hugging you tightly against his chest, and places a kiss on your collarbone. 
"I love you too." 
That night as everyone is sitting around a bonfire, you feel worry start to itch at you. JJ went home to get some things, but it's been almost three hours. 
You know better than anyone what his home life looks like, he's collapsed into your arms weeping more times than you can count. 
There's an unsettling feeling in your gut screaming that something is wrong, and with each second that passes it only gets louder. JJ never goes home for longer than necessary, and he promised he'd be quick. 
You're just about to get in your car and go look for him when you hear the rumbling of his dirt bike as he screeches to a halt. The group shares a confused look and you rise to your feet, ready to be near your boyfriend again. 
You stop cold in your tracks when he kicks the bike over, anger clearly clouding his usual light-hearted personality. JJ is like a golden retriever and loyal to a fault, so when he's like this it sends everybody reeling. 
You watch as he knocks over a few more things in a fit of rage before storming inside and you decide to follow. You can hear footsteps behind you and turn to shake your head, instructing your friends to let you handle it.
Your steps are light as your feet carry you up the steps and into the bathroom where you hear the shower running. You open the door as gently as possible, JJ's back greeting you as he stares into the mirror with tears streaming. 
"Hey, sweet boy. You okay?" Your voice is soft as you ask the question you already know the answer to and it sends a pang of hurt through his chest. He hates when you see him like this, weak and vulnerable. 
He wants to be the strong one, your rock, yet more often than not the roles get reversed. You watch him silently, allowing him space to open up if wants to. 
He doesn't say anything as his head drops and you already know what happened. You step into the room fully and close the door behind you, moving tentatively in his direction as if he'll shatter if you move any faster. 
"Let's take a shower, okay?" 
You're so gentle and kind as you say it, and it causes fresh hot tears to gather on his lash line. You know that JJ is touch starved on a good day, but moments like these are when he really needs you. 
You can almost read his mind, aware that he's fighting the urge to put up his walls and shut you out. 
He doesn't want to though. He wants you, he wants your sweet touches and quiet whispers as you take care of him. 
He feels selfish, but he's well aware that while you're fragile as a butterfly around him, you have zero qualms about tearing through his armor like a knife through butter. 
Your touch is featherlight as your hands work diligently to remove his jewelry. You start with his bracelets, carefully slipping them off his wrists before moving on. 
Next, you work on his rings, delicately pulling them off and kissing the pad of each finger when you're done. 
You finally get to his necklace, your breath tickling the back of his neck as you focus on unclasping it and setting it on the countertop. 
He watches in the mirror as you work, feeling an inescapable amount of love weighing down his heart and mind in the best way. 
You slowly turn him around to face you, your eyes meeting his to ask for permission as your hands fiddle with the hem of his shirt. 
He hesitates before nodding, his eyes squeezing shut and lungs stopping as you glide it up his torso and over his head.
He can't stand to open them and see the look on your face. It's not that he thinks you'll be giving him a sympathetic expression, no it's not that. 
It's that he knows you'll have an understanding look, completely devoid of any surprise. He hates it. He hates that you're so familiar with this that it doesn't even elicit a normal reaction anymore. 
The first time it happened, you gasped and tried to conceal the tears that welled up at the sight. The second and third times you still seemed somewhat shocked, but by six months in you were desensitized. 
Though Luke has never hurt you directly, he hurts you every time he sends JJ back to you in this state and he hates his father for it. Hates him for it more than he does for hitting him, for stealing from him, for neglecting him. 
He shudders as your fingers ghost over the fresh bruises on his stomach and ribs, the contact leaving electricity buzzing right under the surface. 
"Oh, JJ. Baby, I'm so sorry." 
Your voice is barely above a whisper and he chokes down a sob. He despises everything about this. 
He wants to throw up whenever you apologize as if any of this is your fault. As if you're not the one thing that single-handedly makes it better. 
He keeps his eyes shut as your lips press delicate kisses to each mark. They're still fresh; swollen but not quite darkened. 
You can see the faint beginnings of bruising, and you know the dark hues of black and purple will spread in the days to come. 
You make a mental note to ice the injuries before continuing on with getting him undressed. 
You're methodical as you go through the motions, stripping him down to nothing before removing your own clothing as well. 
He steps into the water first, and you take his outstretched hand to keep your balance as you follow suit. 
It's silent as the water washes over the two of you, no words need to be said. There's an unspoken understanding for times like this, and you do what you do best. 
You shower him in love and affection, gently washing his body before lathering shampoo in his blonde hair. 
You see the tension dissolve from his body when his shoulders drop as you massage his head, and take your time. You know he needs this. 
You press sporadic kisses to his skin as you follow his routine, and he melts into you. Your lips press right between his shoulder blades, then the back of his neck, then his cheek as he turns to wrap you in his arms. 
He returns the favor, washing you up lovingly and letting you rinse off. You reach to turn off the water like usual, but stop when his hand catches your wrist. 
You turn back to look up at him and your heart shatters at the sight of his bloodshot eyes. 
"Do you think I'm like him? Do you think if I have kids one day I'll treat them the way he treats me?" 
His voice is so meek, and your heart squeezes painfully. This is new. 
Usually, you spend the night drowning him in your presence and the next day, it's like nothing happened. He's never actually opened up about it, and you're taken aback. 
You study his face for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. Your hands reach up to cup his face and you force him to look you in the eyes. 
"JJ, you are nothing like Luke and you never will be. You love your friends, and you've shown time and time again that you'll do anything for them. You love me in a way I never thought possible. You are the best person I have ever known, and I don't ever want to hear you speak about yourself like that again." 
Your voice is kind but firm, and he sucks in a breath as you continue. 
"If you have kids, they will be the luckiest little shits to ever walk the earth. I know how much love you have to give, and if how you treat me is any indication, your kids would be so loved they wouldn't even know what to do." 
You finish with a searing kiss and when you pull away, his eyes are still shut in bliss. His fingers are digging into your hips, and he loosens up just enough to let you shut off the now-cold water and open the shower curtain. 
"Let's get dried off and go to bed, okay?" You suggest and he doesn't answer, instead just following you into the cold air. 
The two of you dry off and throw on the change of clothes that are now sitting on the counter. 
You assume Sarah or Kie put them there, and remind yourself to thank them later. Once you're dressed, JJ makes his way to the guest room and you shuffle into the kitchen. 
You start rummaging through the freezer to find something you can use as a compress, your hands finally landing on some frozen peas. When you shut the door, John B and Sarah are watching you with sad eyes. 
You give them a small smile and John B nods knowingly. You turn to leave when the man's voice rings out. 
"Hey, thank you." He says and you look at him with nothing short of confusion. 
He recognizes this and takes a step forward. 
"I overheard a bit when I put the clothes in there. You're really good for him, and I just want you to know how much I- we- appreciate you being there for him. He's been better since he met you." 
You swallow thickly and give him a quick hug, muttering a short 'thanks'. You know he knows what you're thanking him for. Partly for the clothes, but mostly for the kind words. 
He squeezes you back and you pull away, heading off to tend to your sweet boyfriend. When you step into the room he's leaning back against the headboard, his eyes fixated on the small tv that's playing some football game. 
His gaze darts to you when he notices you and he gives a heart-stopping smile. You crawl up next to him and place the cold bag on the spot that looks the worst. 
Your pressure is light and that's another thing that eats at him. 
The fact that icing his battered body is second nature to you now makes him ill, but he still lets you do it. Part of him wonders if he should have hidden this side of his life from you, sheltered you from the grim reality. 
A bigger part of him is glad he didn't. He went through this alone for so long and it's nice to have someone that loves him just the same, even after finding out the ugly truth.
He doesn't shy away from the sensation and it breaks your heart all over again. 
You're painfully aware that it's because he's used to this, and you want nothing more than to take him away from all this and give him the life he so deserves. 
The two of you just lay there for a while as you take care of him and he absentmindedly runs his hand through your hair. 
When the bag starts to get warm, you settle down under the comforter, and JJ curls into you. His head rests on your chest and he lets the steady beat of your heart lull him to sleep. 
"I love you." You whisper and JJ tangles his legs with yours. 
"I love you too."
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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Hii~ First of all I love your writing!
Now about the request... I really wanted one where Spencer is dating a painter who has the personality of a black cat (we all know that our Reid is a total golden retriever type) and everyone thinks that she is the dominant one of the couple since she has this more punk/alternative style, but the team couldn't be more wrong! A soft!Dom Spencer makes her obey and yield every time! ~thank u
A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I can definitely see myself making a part two for this if enough people are interested!! For now though, enjoy! ~✨
Warnings: mentions of public sex, BDSM roles, mentions of using dog collars in a sexual way, mentions of creampie.
Here's my masterlist and requests are open!~
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“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting your mystery girl tonight, Reid. You’ve been so quiet about her, we’d have never even known if Penelope hadn’t hacked your phone on a hunch.” Emily laughed at the man from her perch at the bar, raising her glass in a cheers with her fellow agents. 
“I’m not too sure she really exists, you know. I know what my baby girl said but the kid graduated from MIT, and we know texts can be doctored,” Morgan teased from the other side of the younger man. 
In response, he simply rolled his eyes and let them continue their fun and games. He’d known the two agents for long enough to know that their teasing was loving, if not entirely warranted. He’d only kept you a secret because you’d asked him to, having wanted to make a good first impression on them. He’d have gladly shouted your name from the rooftops, but you were on the shy side sometimes. 
“Oh you’re just jealous. You want me to help you take a little honey home tonight, Derek?” Emily turned on the other man this time and Reid breathed a sigh of relief that the attention was finally off of him.
“I am perfectly capable of collecting all by myself, thank you very much.” He turned an amused eye out to the rest of the bar, surveying the women in the bar like a predator looking or it’s next victim. 
“What about that one? She good enough for the Derek Morgan?” Spencer glanced up at where she was pointing at the same time as the aforementioned male did and did his best to repress his smile. Emily had glanced to the door, where you stood, outfitted in a tight black dress, chunky thigh high boots and a stoic expression. You’d carefully washed all the paint that usually adorned your hair and face away, armouring yourself in red lipstick and dog collar choker, letting the look speak for itself. 
“Now that is a nice piece of work, but not exactly what I’m into, sweet cheeks. I prefer my ladies a little bit less wild. A little more compliant if you pick up what I’m putting down.” 
“Coward. Dominant women are more fun, right Reid?” Emily smiled back at the other man, but he was looking past the two of them waving to you. 
“Oh great, you’re here. Emily, Derek I want you to meet my girlfriend, Y/N.” He grabs your hand and leads you the rest of the way to where they were standing, the grin on his face widening exponentially as the two splutter, praying to god that you didn’t just hear the tail end of their conversation about you. 
“Hi, great to meet you. And yes, Emily, I agree. Dominant women do seem to have a lot of fun,” you winked at the woman a little bit and let your boyfriend excitedly drag you over to the bar to buy you a drink. 
Recovering first, Emily pulled herself back into the barstool she’d recently vacated, and started asking you questions. 
“So, how did you guys meet?” 
“At the library actually. I was there installing a mural, and I saw him and decided I had to have him.” You smiled fondly up at your boyfriend, as he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. You’d perched yourself between his legs, leaning your entire bodyweight back into his chest possessively, as he trailed a light hand over your waist. 
“You’re a painter? Wow, that’s so wonderful.” 
“Yeah, that’s the dream anyway. I also work part time at an art gallery downtown to help pay the bills. It’s where he tracked me down, so it worked out pretty well, I guess.” 
“Tracked you down?” Morgan asked. 
“Yeah, after our first… run in, I forgot to give him my number.” 
“Run in? You said you met at the library, what else did you do if you forgot to swap numbers?” Emily laughed, half-heartedly, then stopped as soon as she saw the smug grin on your face paired with the awkward panicked expression on Reid’s. 
“Shut up. No way, wait I don’t even want to hear this.” 
You smiled up at the man, knowing that the way his two coworkers were imagining that first meeting was probably the exact opposite of how it had gone. Sure, you’d told the truth about approaching him first, but that was the extent of your control of the situation. You’d gone over to ask for his number, find out his name and ask if he was single. You’d returned to work an hour later with sore knees, no panties and a load of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 
He hadn’t even allowed you to give him his number, just promised that he’d find you again, and vanished from the library bathroom stalls you’d christened in sin with a lingering kiss on your lips and a whisper of “good girl.” You’d fallen for him hard, and you never wanted to get back up. 
“Wow. And he was so desperate to find you again that he followed you to work. We taught you better than that, Reid, come on. You’re going to freak out the ladies if you come on that strong.” Morgan began teasing the man, ruffling his hair, and you bit your tongue to stop the laughter from exploding from your mouth. 
You knew from your appearances that people often came to the wrong conclusions about how you and Reid were as a couple. Your style was more alternative, though not as intense as you’d been in high school, and his was more preppy nerd, but you balanced each other out well. You knew that it irked him sometimes though. And whenever he was pissed, he took it out on you in the best way. 
After a few hours in the bar getting to know Morgan and Prentiss, and the two other lovely ladies who had arrived later, JJ and Penelope, Reid’s grip on your waist tightening made it clear that it was time for you to go home together. 
“I think we’re going to head out now, guys. I’ll see you in the office on monday.” He said and moved off, but you wanted to see how far you could push it tonight, wanting to see the lengths he would take to not show his teammates that they had vastly misunderstood your relationship. 
“But Spence, I just met them. I wanna talk some more,” you smirked up at him now, and saw his jaw clench. You were thankful you’d work the dog collar choker tonight, the thought of him grabbing it to yank you away making you squeeze your thighs together for some much needed friction. 
“We’re going now, baby. Come here.” You ignored the order for another second, and you could feel the heat in his gaze, and the curiosity in his friends as they watched this struggle between you. 
“Sweetie, did you hear me, I said we’re going now?” This time, you knew he wasn’t playing anymore, so with a quick “yes, sir,” you pushed yourself out of your seat and practically skipped over to him, a delighted grin on your face. He cupped you neck, wanting desperately to pull you in by the neck but choosing restraint instead, and brushed his lips to yours. Whenever he kissed you like that, it meant you’d caused trouble, and you knew you were going to spend the night paying for it. 
“Bye-bye, everyone, it was so nice to meet you,” you called as he led you out of the doors and into the carpark. 
“What the hell was that?” Penelope was the first one to crack, the others jaws still dropped to the floor. 
“Did she just call him sir?” JJ laughed in incredulity. 
“But-but I could’ve sworn they were…” Emily blubbered and the four of them sat there staring at the door, realising that they had underestimated their resident genius a little bit too much. 
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strangersmunsons · 2 months
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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 10 Prompt: Date Night ❤️ ~ 2,400 words you and Eddie go out for Valentine's Day.
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Eddie can’t help feeling a squirm of embarrassment when he thinks about pitching you his date idea for your first Valentine’s Day evening together.
Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention to the calender; the date crept up on him without making a single peep. When Wayne pointedly asked him over breakfast what he was planning on doing for his girl, he just about choked on his cereal.
“D’you have eyes, kid? Every store window in town has been pink for weeks.”
His uncle just gave him an exasperated look, shaking his head.
All day, Eddie’s been scrambling to try and plan something special for you, which has proven to be difficult in a place like Hawkins, where opportunities for romance are pretty scarce, even when one (decidedly not him) has the brains to prepare further in advance than, well…the day of. 
He called you right after talking to Wayne, and confirmed a time to pick you up for your date, whatever it was going to be. He spoke too animatedly on the phone, laughed too loudly to hide his anxiety, but was careful not to let on that he had no idea what the hell he was doing. 
It ended up being only twenty minutes before he was supposed to leave when a lightbulb finally went off. But to say he wasn’t feeling confident about it would be…an understatement, to say the least.
He’s never celebrated this milestone with anybody before. Were you expecting something fancy? Maybe an expensive dinner that you could get dolled up for, and lose yourself in a dreamy whirlwind of fairy-tale romance?
Unfortunately, such extravagance was not only scarce in this rural town, but it’s also a little out of his price range. He desperately wishes that he could wine and dine you the way he thinks you deserve, but for now, on his bar-back wages, this is the best he’s got.
Eddie takes a deep breath, and raps quickly on your front door, pacing on the stoop. When the door swings open, you greet him with a beaming smile that makes you look so pretty it nearly knocks him off his feet. He’s seen it a million times before, technically; but it wasn’t until a few short months ago that you starting training that affection directly at him. He’s still not accustomed to the full force of it, and he’s not sure he ever will be.
“Hi,” you greet him, pulling the door shut behind you as you step outside. You move in close to him, closer than any mere friend would dare stand, but you’re not quite bold enough yet to reach out and grasp his hand, or lean in for the kiss yourself, so he does it for you. And with gusto.
If there’s one thing Eddie Munson is not afraid of, it’s PDA. Why should he care if someone sees him loving on you? He wants everyone to know how he feels. He’d shout it from the rooftops if he could.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He pecks at your lips again, and looks you up and down. “God, you look stunning.”
You try and laugh him off, looking a little embarrassed but not displeased. Eddie raises your entwined hands up into the air, and says, “C’mon, do a little twirl for me.”
Looking thoroughly flustered, you oblige, letting him spin you round — but only just the once.
“Yup, it’s just as I thought. Gorgeous, as usual.” He squints at you. “You got a boyfriend or somethin’ you’re trying to impress?”
You smooth the pleats of your skirt. “I do, actually. He’s ruggedly handsome and has a minor rap sheet — I’d watch out if I were you!” The last word comes out as a squeal, as Eddie suddenly snatches you up in his arms, holding you around your middle, and carries you down the short flight of steps. When both his sneakers are planted firmly on the sidewalk, he sets you down again.
Eddie escorts you to the van, and helps you climb inside. When you’re both seated, he pauses before putting the keys in the ignition. “I was thinking we could see a movie tonight,” he says conversationally. “Would that…be okay with you?” 
He watches carefully for your expression, waiting for the glimmer of disappointment to flicker across your face, but you look perfectly at peace with the suggestion. “Sure,” you chirp, giving him a shrug and and a small, perfect smile.
He tells you which film he wants to take you to, and you bust up laughing, nodding your head in affirmation. Eddie grins back at you, cheeks reddening. 
The drive to the theater is short, and within minutes, Eddie pulls into a parking space and cuts the engine.
Wanting to be sure, he asks you again, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? ‘Cause I know it’s not the most exciting night out, and I — I can call around to some restaurants if you’d rather do that instead, see if I can’t find some place that isn’t booked up —”
You cut him off. “Eddie, this is perfect. I think it’s a great idea.”
He raises his eyebrows skeptically, convinced that you’re indulging him. “If you say so.”
Eddie climbs out of the van while you wait patiently in the passenger seat, and walks around to your side. He’s been very insistent about this ritual since the first date: you cannot, under any circumstances, let yourself out of the vehicle; you must give him his chance to act the proper gentleman. 
Basically, he gets pouty and sulks if you don’t let him get the door for you.
Eddie bows, one arm extended in a flourishing gesture. “Milady.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
With his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, and yours around his trim waist, the two of you head into the movie theater. There’s no new releases, no blockbuster rom-coms on this Wednesday in February, so the lobby is practically empty, save for the bored, gum-snapping cashier at the box office register. 
“Two for My Bloody Valentine, please.” 
God bless the Hawkins Cinema manager for having a sense of humor.
The cashier slides two tickets across the counter. You take them eagerly, while Eddie grabs your free hand, allowing you to lead him through the spacious room. He lets you pull him along like a lovesick puppy, totally content to follow you wherever you go.
At the concession stand, he fishes a wrinkled coupon out of his jacket pocket. Fanning himself with the crumpled paper dramatically, he says, “Got a voucher for free candy. You get whatever you want, sweetheart.”
Your mouth falls open, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “You are sweeping me off my feet right now,” you exclaim giddily. 
He shrugs nonchalantly. “I aim to please.”
You make your way to the assigned theater armed with popcorn, your free Raisinets, and a large coke for the two of you to share. Eddie’s not even fully seated in his rickety chair before he starts tossing buttery kernels into his mouth. A few fly astray and land on the floor. 
“Careful,” you chide him gently. 
He responds by picking up another piece and flicking it directly into your face.
“Hey!”
Eddie leans in abruptly, face suddenly inches from yours. He stares at you intensely, the seconds ticking by, then closes the distance by sealing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.
When he pulls back he’s grinning brightly at you, while you’re rendered speechless. He wraps his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you as closely to him as he can manage with the armrest in the way. 
The house lights dim, then shut off, shrouding the room in darkness before the projector kicks on. Eddie watches the opening sequence of the film with interest, but you watch him instead. 
Hesitantly, you turn to whisper in his ear. “Hey, Eddie?”
“Yeah?” His dark eyes glint in the light of the silver screen. 
“I just wanted to say…I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I really like being with you. Thank you for taking me out tonight.”
Eddie blinks in surprise. His cheeks feel hot — now it’s his turn to be flustered. “O-oh. I do too. Like being with you, I mean.” He frowns uncertainly, gesturing towards the movie. “I mean, I know it’s not dinner at Enzo’s…” he trails off, unsure how to finish voicing his insecurity. 
You wave him off before he has time to worry again. “Eddie, you could take me somewhere to watch paint dry and I’d still have fun because I’d be doing it with you.” 
The corners of his lips turn up in a shy smile. “Really?”
“Of course.”
Eddie kisses you again, deliberate and slow, one hand lightly cupping your jaw. His lips move against yours when he whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”
~
“I forgot how Canadian they are in that movie,” Eddie snorts. 
With the film over, you and Eddie slowly plod back out towards the lobby, thoroughly stuffed on popcorn and candy and Coca-Cola. 
“Yeah,” you reply absentmindedly, suddenly much more focused on the selection of arcade games that are tucked away in the corner. “Hey.” You nudge him gently. “I bet I could kick your ass at air hockey.”
Eddie grins wolfishly at you, immediately game. “Oh, sweetheart, you wish.”
Both of you take your stances at either end of the table, Eddie fishing around in his pocket for spare change. He slots a quarter into the machine and the board hums to life; what follows is arguably one of the most zealous games of air hockey the Hawkins Cinema has ever seen, both of you slamming the puck back and forth across the table with so much vigor that, more than once, it flies off the table completely and arcs an impressive distance across the lobby. 
And as it turns out, you don’t need to wish for anything at all: you beat Eddie twice in a row, and quite gleefully. He tries to shake off his annoyance.
“You’re being too aggressive,” you tell him sagely. “That’s why you keep bouncing it back into the goal on accident.”
“I’ve never cared for sports,” he says dismissively, tossing his striker back on the now-still table, as though he’s not upset about losing.
“Someone’s got a case of sour grapes,” you tease him in a sing-song voice. 
“I do not.” He pouts. 
You pat his back sympathetically. “It’s okay. We can’t all be winners.”
“Alright, alright. Enough about my athletic ineptitude,” he laughs, poking you in the cheek. He nods over to the claw machine wedged between Pac-Man and Frogger. “Instead of spending my last quarter so you can get three-for-three on air hockey, how ‘bout I try and win you something instead?”
You clasp your hands together and hold them under your chin, batting your eyelashes. “Please do.”
He winks at you, and sidles on over, eyeing the miscellaneous goods piled up in the glass box. There are various toys, stuffed animals, small trinkets enclosed in bubbly-looking plastic containers. “This is my last quarter, you know. A lot riding on this.”
You shrug. “If you can’t get me a prize, we’ll have to break up.”
“Ouch! You’re a cold, cold woman, you know that?”
Eddie’s about to use his last coin, when he thinks better of it. Instead, before the machine eats it forever, he holds the quarter out to you in his palm, and with a deadly-serious expression says, “Blow on this for me.”
You blink at him. “What?”
He sighs with mock-impatience. “For good luck. C’mon, every gamblin’ man knows that.” 
“Oh.”
You blow on the quarter, and Eddie finally starts up his game. The pink tip of his tongue pokes out from between his lips, and his brow is deeply furrowed — the picture of concentration. He wields the control stick like it’s a deadly weapon, with the utmost care and precision. He’s aiming for a small teddy bear in the back left corner, perched precariously on the mountain of toys, but angled in such a way he thinks he might be able to nab it. 
He makes his last minute adjustments, then triumphantly slaps his hand down on the button, heavy rings clacking against the plastic.
The claw sinks down, steely fingers outstretched, and…misses the bear by inches, instead plowing deeper through empty space, and then enclosing around one of the smaller hidden prizes below. 
“You got it!” Your voice is excited; you grasp his shoulder and hop and down in victory as the claw rises again, veering towards the drop-bucket. 
“Yeah, but that’s not I wanted,” he grumbles dejectedly. “What is this shit?”
There’s a soft plunk! as the secret object hits the metal chute, and Eddie quickly opens the flap to snatch his prize. It’s a round, plastic container with a pink lid, small enough to fit in your palm; not unlike something you might find in a gumball machine. The plastic is frosted, so you can’t quite make out what’s inside.
“Can I open it?”
Eddie chuckles. “Well, I got it for you, didn’t I? Sorry for winning trash. I was aiming for the bear,” he hooks a thumb back towards the stuffed teddy, still trapped inside his glass enclosure. 
You ignore the little jibe towards your prize, and pop the lid open. Inside is a little plastic ring; fake silver, with a pasted-on rhinestone in place of a diamond. 
Your lips curl up into an involuntary smile as you examine the ring with joy; you love it. Eddie watches you play with the jewelry, mightily endeared. 
“I guess that’s not too bad, huh?”
“Eddie,” you put a hand on his chest, “you could not have won me something better. Thank you for spending your last quarter on me. I’m the luckiest girl in the world, I swear.”
Eddie takes the ring from you, and holds your hand with the other. “May I?” he asks.
You bow your head. “Of course.”
Eddie’s about to slip the ring onto your right index finger, then hesitates. “Actually…I think it may look better over here.”
He switches to your other hand, and slides it onto the ring finger — it’s a bit loose, but you wouldn’t want to wear it any other way. 
Your eyes are wide, sparkling as you beam at him. “I love it. It’s perfect.”
“It won’t be the last ring I put on you, sweetheart.”
Eddie Munson makes good on his promises. Three years to the day, in the exact same container, he gave you another ring just like your old one — except this time it had a real band, with a real jewel, and he did it on bended knee.
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Happy Valentine's Day darlings!! thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).
I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.
Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!
Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1
[Pt.2]
——
Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.
He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.
His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.
He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.
“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”
Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.
“Stay still, you motherfucker!”
“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.
“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”
“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.
Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?
Huh. His options for dinner was limited.
“Take this!”
Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.
“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.
“Get him!”
God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.
Great.
Oh, speak of the devil!
“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.
He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.
“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.
The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.
“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”
“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”
“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”
“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”
The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.
“You have a lawyer?”
“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”
“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”
“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.
“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”
This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.
“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”
“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.
“Like, Dare Devil good.”
“You know Matt Murdock??”
“Sure do.”
“He… he’ll take on our cases?”
“Dang, all of you?”
“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”
“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”
“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”
“Got it. Sorry.”
Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.
And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.
“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.
And Spider-Man
F
E
L
L.
——
Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.
He twisted.
“Boss, what the fuck?!”
“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.
“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”
“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”
Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”
“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”
Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”
“I know!”
Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.
——
Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.
“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.
“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.
First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.
That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.
He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.
He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.
He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.
The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.
With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?
Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”
Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?
Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.
He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…
Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.
“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”
His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]
Peter stared at the words, gut churning.
Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.
Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.
“Fuck.”
He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.
——
Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.
“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”
Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.
He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.
“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.
“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”
Five things.
1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!
2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.
3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.
4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.
5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.
Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.
Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.
Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.
Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.
3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.
Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.
Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.
“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.
Now… People of Interest.
This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.
Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”
He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”
“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.
And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.
He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.
Subcategory B: Local celebrities.
“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.
“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”
“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.
“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”
Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.
Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.
Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.
Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.
So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.
Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”
And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.
And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.
Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.
He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.
For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.
He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!
Oh my god.
Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.
Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.
Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-
“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.
“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”
“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”
The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”
Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”
“Food, duh.”
“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”
The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”
“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”
“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”
Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.
“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”
Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.
“I’m Peter!”
“… Frank.”
He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.
“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”
Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.
“Uh. Hey.”
Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.
“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”
Peter chewed faster.
Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”
Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”
Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!
“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”
Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!
“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”
“That was easy.”
Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.
“Ow!”
“Whatever, shrimp.”
Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.
Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.
“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”
“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.
“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.
“You’re looking for a place?”
“Yeah? Why?”
Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”
Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.
“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”
“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.
“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”
“Dunno? Probably not.”
“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.
Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.
“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”
Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”
“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”
“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”
“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.
——
They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.
“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”
“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”
And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.
Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.
“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”
“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.
They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.
“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.
“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”
“No-” Frank had started.
“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.
“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”
Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.
“Uh.”
“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”
“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”
Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”
Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.
“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”
Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.
“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.
“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”
“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”
“I can use a cart.”
And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.
“Can you even reach the handle?”
“I’m not that short!”
Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.
“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.
“Okay!”
Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.
“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.
——
As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”
Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.
He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…
He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.
Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.
He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and
He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.
All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for
So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.
“Hey.”
Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”
Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.
“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”
“Rude. No, of course not.”
Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.
“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…
“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”
The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”
“Nice! We can eat on this!”
——
When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.
“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.
“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.
——
When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.
So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.
An hour later, he met his first vigilante.
“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”
“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.
“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.
Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”
“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?
“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”
Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”
“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.
“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”
“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.
“Photography buddy!” He cheered.
They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.
“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”
“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.
——
Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.
“Red Robin to Nightwing.”
“What’s up, Red?”
“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.
“… What?”
“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”
“Copy. Oh, that kid…”
“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”
“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”
“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”
“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.
“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.
“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.
“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.
——
Peter: lay low and get home
Also Peter: talks to a vigilante
None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.
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chrollohearttags · 9 months
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writing silly prompts with my OTP so you don’t have to • part one
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content warning: exactly as it says, voyeurism, exhibitionism, reverse cowgirl, squirting
📝: I cannot explain this even if I wanted to. Sometimes, I have a lightbulb in my head, constantly flickering and other times, it’s nothing more than wind and baked beans up here so I need help jogging my brain muscles and reviving my creative spark. Don’t get me wrong, I love you guys’ asks and I’ll get to them, as well as the commissions, I swear but I need to get my juices flowing again 🫶🏾
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“Ahh! Shit…mmphm. Gonna make me come..”
“Go ahead, princess. Nut on this dick..better keep quiet though. You don’t want us to get caught..”
another peaceful Sunday stroll down South Beach’s Design District turned to a rather eventful outing. Of course, that was nothing out of the ordinary for the infamous couple. It wasn’t rare for the two of you to spend your very limited free time enjoying relaxing walks through the various shops in the heart of downtown..where you may have frequented your favorite stores and restaurants as a bit of routine in your very chaotic and ever changing schedules. It was the one constant that you could bet on in your hectic lives. However..as soothing as the mundane was sometimes…you both still craved that thrill. The excitement that came with doing something you had no business. That rush only grew tenfold when you considered the fact that you weren’t exactly inconspicuous..everyone in Miami and the world at this point knew EJ the Don and (y/n) (l/n). Everyone was looking for an excuse to photograph you two. So it was insane that you were so casually perched atop your man’s dick at a popular lounge on Ocean Drive; enjoying some semblance of privacy as you had rented out the rooftop area for yourselves but even so, if caught, you’d find yourselves front page on somebody’s blog. Right now, you just couldn’t be vexed to give a fuck. Instead…
“Fuck! I don’t care who sees, I just wanna keep—“
your words trailed off into a high pitched yelp as that tip poked the inner corner of your sensitive core. Being fucked up into like a jackhammer into concrete. A tattooed hand on your clothed tummy and inked fingers stroking your clit. All of this because you just had to wear..it. A regular, run of the mill sundress that you had probably gotten as part of PR from Fashion Nova or Shein a year ago and just decided to throw it on to combat this horrendous heat. And yet, it was getting your pussy pounded! Strutting around without so much as a thong on underneath, just in case the mood struck you. Of course, it didn’t take long for your husband to follow suit when saw the fat of that ass swaying from behind the clingy material and watched you bend over to retrieve something when that hem raised and that plump little cunt became visible..from there, neither of you could contain yourselves. Up and down with your legs propped onto the pool chair you went..rutting your hips in slow circular motions as you performed tricks on that dick. Smacking, wet noises filling the summer air. You were certain some attendee or waiter was lurking in the shadows, possibly jerking off or even filming you two but it didn’t even matter. Your only concern was coming all over him! That deep voice growling in your ear as he held you close to his chest and let you ride out your orgasm. Even shortly after, bending you over again so that he could see that ass moving against him. Shouting off expletives at each other..
“Give it to me! Fuck this pussy, daddy. Right there!..”
“Hold still, baby..gonna nut all in this shit!—“
before he could do so, you were already reaching a climatic high..clamping down on his shaft before springing up and spraying him with those sweet, divine juices. Groping one of your tits, Eren would cackle as he watched you come undone for him. Squirming all over the place with uncontrollable trembling from that powerful peak. You were still shooting out tiny streams of that squirt afterwards. Having been fucked so roughly with such impact but of course, it couldn’t be helped..
“Sorry, princess. You know what happens when you wear that shit around me. Can’t help myself..”
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youneedsomeprompts · 5 months
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~ FORBIDDEN LOVE ~ PROMPTS about secret dating
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requested by: various anons requests: I saw the "Forbidden Love" prompts, mostly about not admitting to themselves / each other, and it really made me yearn for forbidden love prompts where they're together but they have to hide it from everyone else; one sided “keeping a relationship hidden from coworkers”; can you post prompts about two oblivious people who are already dating but the other people don't know they're dating? dialogues or scenarios would do<3 thank you and love your prompt contents!
Feel free to use and reblog!
Part 1: ~ FORBIDDEN LOVE ~ PROMPTS about confessing a forbidden crush Part 2: ~ FORBIDDEN LOVE ~ PROMPTS about showing love without confessing
Setting/scenario:
#1 - keeping it secret at first because they didn't think it would turn into something that serious anyway #2 - enjoying the thrill of the secrecy #3 - being unsure whether that nervous feeling in their stomach is coming from their feelings for the other or the fact the relationship has to be kept a secret #4 - it's killing them that they have no one they can share their thoughts about their new relationship with #5 - making up the most random excuses to secretly meet up with the other #6 - screaming internally because they're having a date but they can't talk about it #7 - trying to act casual and unsuspicious in public when they're together but it's so hard #8 - teasing the other because they know how hard it is for them to keep their affection/arousal to themselves #9 - making promises that they don't have to keep it secret for much longer (but is it really realistic?) #10 - developing a method to communicate in code #11 - keeping it secret to protect the other #12 - keeping it secret until better times come #13 - making up for keeping it secret by extremely romantic/spoiling dates when they're alone #14 - wanting to fix everything before making the other their official s/o #15 - finding it the least stressful way to date to just keep it secret #16 - enjoying their little, happy secret because that way, no one can ruin it/take it from them #17 - it's like living in two completely separate worlds because their relationship is something that just exists between the two of them and the time together is always otherworldly #18 - wanting to stay in their happy dream world forever #19 - making plans for the future together, even though they don't know where they will be tomorrow #20 - they're keeping the other's love letters hidden under their pillow even though they know how risky it is
Dialogue:
#21 - "You're the most precious thing to me. So, I have to keep you as safe as possible." #22 - "Ah, I'm glad to have you finally to myself." #23 - "When I'm with you, it's like the earth stood still. I'm never so at peace." #24 - "You know, I really don't want to imagine what would happen if the others knew." #25 - "We have to be more careful. This was really a close call." #26 - "Do you really think it's necessary we keep it secret for much longer?" #27 - "I'm doing this for you. You're much better off when the others don't know." "You always say that. But I'm not sure if I still believe it." #28 - "It's not ideal but hell would break lose if it came out. I'm really glad we have the moments of peace. And intimacy." #29 - "Could you have imagined that we would someday end up like this?" #30 - "You're the best that happened to me. And I can tell no one about it. But I want to shout it from the rooftops." "Oh, you better don't. But you can always whisper it to my ear." #31 - "Isn't it fun to have this secret?" #32 - ^ "That's one way to call it." #33 - "I was really impressed how you handled that earlier. So cool. So smooth. So casual. As if I hadn't just made you whimper and made your eyes roll back minutes prior." #34 - "It's all worth it. I would risk it all again just to be with you." #35 - "Do you really think this is a good idea? They could find us." #36 - "You'll be the death of me." #37 - "To be honest, it's pretty funny to see you acting so unfazed and oblivious when we both know you were still thinking about me being naked." #38 - ^ "I always think about you being naked. It's not as if it's a new challenge to keep a straight face." #39 - "But you do know that I'm doing this all for you, right? Otherwise, I couldn't care less." "But you have to act as if you were in for the thing itself. They cannot connect you to me." #40 - "One day, I will carry you off to a place where it's just us. So, be prepared to be kindly abducted one day, alright?"
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wlntrsldler · 2 months
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blurb based on this post.
pre-claiming, pre-betrayal, luke castellan x poseidon!reader, fluff.
while i bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love and insurmountable grief.
“rumor has it, capture the flag is coming up,” luke said. he was ripping blades of grass from beside him as his head laid on your stomach. he was facing the blue sky, letting the droplets of water roll off his bare skin.
you’d just emerged from your impromptu dip in the lake to escape the growing heat of summer. you had his camp shirt on top of your body, finding the faint scent of his cologne on the neckline of the shirt comforting. “already? they’re really trying to get us at each other’s throats as soon as possible.”
“yeah,” he scoffed. he rolled his head to face you. “it’s beth’s turn to come up with a strategy.”
there was pride in his eyes, like there always was when he talked about annabeth. you wondered if you had the same sparkle when you talked about her too. it was hard not to be proud of annabeth. after all, you’d known her since she was seven, when you, luke, and thalia found her wandering alone.
you tried not to think of those days too much. those days were painful and lonely; unfair that children were left to fend for themselves. even though you and luke were the oldest of the bunch, you were still just fourteen. at fourteen, you should’ve been dreading the perils of freshman year of high school, not wondering if you’d be fortunate enough to reach sixteen.
“how’s percy holding up?” you asked. your fingers tugged on a strand of hair that was bouncing back into his usual curls. you felt luke soften at your touch.
“he’s doing okay,” luke answered after a beat. “as well as anyone would be after finding out.”
“he’s a tough one, i can tell,” you replied. you attempted to move your hand from luke’s hair, but he held it in place. you complied, starting to rub his scalp. “has he been claimed yet?”
“no, he hasn’t.”
the topic of being claimed was a touchy subject for you as an unclaimed child. the first few months at camp, you had your hopes that your time was coming soon. your godly parent had to claim you eventually, right? but as the months turned into a year and a year turned into five, you lost all hope. somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself that you made peace with it.
luke, on the other hand, never did. there were many things he hated about the gods. most of it were general things that made sense; neglecting their children, having them do their dirty work, making them go on dangerous quests where they’re likely to get killed; but the thing that he hated them for the most was that they made you feel unworthy of being acknowledged.
to everyone else at camp, they saw you as someone who beat the odds despite not knowing who your godly parent was. you became a skilled swordsman, coming second only to luke, skilled at archery, and such an incredible leader, but luke didn’t attribute that to your godly parent. he attributed that to your character. your greatness had nothing to do with the gods.
but luke also knew you better than anyone else. he knew that even though you acted like you didn’t care about being claimed, there was still a part of you that stayed fourteen, that stayed hopeful, that one day your parent would claim you.
luke let his lips linger on your hipbone, a reminder that he was still there, as if trying to convince you that while your parent didn’t care enough to claim you, he did. he would shout it from every rooftop, if he could. in fact, on the trip to olympus, he stood at the top of the empire state building and declared his love for you.
chiron, who was forced to discipline him for his antics, banned him for getting dessert for two weeks, but sent you a sly wink as he was telling luke his punishment. you didn’t comment about how you managed to be given two desserts ‘accidentally’ everyday during luke’s punishment.
“we should probably head back soon,” you mumbled, though you made no effort to get up. luke snuggled deeper into you from where he laid. “it’s almost dinner.”
“yeah,” luke sighed. “you’re probably right.”
neither of you made it to dinner, but grover managed to sneak the both of you a handful of strawberries to eat.
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