#first time comic reader

[dailystarhq]

Man, I just finished reading JLA: Year One (1998) and it's so... interesting. I was aware of DC stuff peripherally for a lot of my childhood (was obsessed with Batman. but mostly the Lego video game for the Wii and the The Animated Series) My understanding was the the Trinity (Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman) formed the Justice League, along with a few others (usually Flash, Green Lantern, and Aquaman, but I know Martian Manhunter is there in the animated show too)

I assume its that way in other versions, but it's very strange that they decided Post-Crisis Justice League should be formed by Black Canary, Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and Aquaman, and be funded by Oliver Queen (Green Arrow). Especially when Wonder Woman isn't even mentioned or shown at all. Batman appears a couple times, and has like one single line, and Superman only gets a scene or two.

My only thought is that they wanted to leave the Trinity as their own separate titles while trying out the Justice League (of America) as just hero group comic run to try and generate interest for some of the heroes outside of the big three. (Obviously they changed their minds, because I know later on, the Trinity is restored as the leaders of the JL and Batman as the funder)

I just wonder what they're gonna do with the plot point that basically ever single operating hero on earth got their identities compromised...

[dearlawdimasimp]

something something about bf!jason todd only speaking softly when talking to you ...

a/n: mdni, 18+ on the last part, gender neutral idk if this has been done before im sorry if it has but legit this has been in my mind since this morning

Bf!Jason Todd, who will only talk in a volume only you can hear, dropping his head a little so that you can hear him better.

"this would look good on you sweetheart." his hum a low rumble behind you, his breath warming your ear as he takes the apparel you have in your hand, inspecting the fabric with a faint smile only you could see...

Bf!Jason Todd, who will only mumble lowly as a warning if ever you act out a little

"doll, you've had enough sweets for the day." It came from his chest, almost like a low growl as his long exhale came through his big nose, his lush green eyes held warning but were still soft, fond, looking down at your pout. "Still a no babe." His resolve is wearing down...

Bf!Jason Todd, who will bury his head in your neck, whispering and groaning to your skin as he takes you from behind...

"god sweetcheeks." he takes a deep inhale, his nose nudging your earlobe as his mumbling is punctuated by his thrusts, resonating from his chest through the expanse of your sweaty back. He was everywhere, engulfing you with his large form, arms around your waist and your neck, securing you close to him as his hips pistons you down the mattress, "taking me so well." His praise fanning the shell of your ear, grunts escaping his gritted teeth.

[dreamyblanket]

Heya, saw your blog and thought it was pretty nice! You’re doing a grand service to the Carrow fans out there!

If it’s not too much of a hassle, I had thought of an idea of Mystic Flour wanting to be approachable to the Reader by smiling, but she ends up unnerving them when she instead gives that creepy smile she makes in one of her sprites.

You smile to show people you love them right ? //^^//

[afrowrites]

Princess and the Farm-Boy (Special Chapter 😏

DISCLAMER: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP

Author's note: Y'all it was been one hell of a year. I mean I have never been so overworked and with other stuff in my life it has been impossible to write anything, but I had this one in the works for awhile and I thought you guys deserved a treat. So here is my first *Ahem* "Spicy fic". I really hope y'all enjoy it :).

Clark Kent !Smallville! x Black reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (f! receiving), Unprotected P in V sex (Please be careful irl)

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61783975

There you are stuck in the rain, the mud creeping up your loafers and on your nice white stockings. Once again your plans to escape Smallville have proven futile. Your eyes start to tear up in frustration, which makes no sense. After all you're not a child, so why should you start crying like one. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a familiar and annoying truck pulling up.

 “Hey, are you ok?” Clark asks, he sounds genuine. 

“Yeah, I'm uh just fine.” You answer, he looks at you quizzically. He knows how much you hate mud and all things dirty.

“Doesn't look like it.” “Well what would you know anyway?!” You spat, your pride may be bruised but it's not broken.

He grumbles in frustration, he knows you're not going anywhere without a fight. So he goes for the next best thing, you see him get out the truck his tall frame makes his way to you and then he grins a little devilish grin.

“C'mon I know you don't wanna be here out in this rain, your hair’s too important.” 

“I don't see how that's any of you- Oh my God what are you doing!!!” You squeal as you are suddenly hoisted in the air and on his shoulder.

“Well princess, I'm taking you home.” He smiles.

You don't know how to feel about his nickname for you. 

Usually you hate it but right now it makes your cheeks heat up in a way you have never felt before.

He drives you both in silence, he realizes that he kinda kidnapped you, and you are feeling an acute sense of butterflies. Something you could never feel for Clark Kent. 

You shake the thought right out of your head, he looks over to you sort of reading your mind,

“Hey so uh- what is the deal you, I mean ever since we met you act like you hate me.”

You turn your head towards him, looking at his defined jaw, it's making you melt right in your chair.

“I don't hate you Clark,” you sigh “I just needed something to be upset at. It just felt weird to be taken from my penthouse in metropolis and come to Smallville, y’know.”

He does understand where you're coming from. 

“Look, I might not be super rich and super smart like you, But I know what it feels like to be taken from my home.” He comforts you, hesitantly placing a warm hand on yours. 

Before your able to pry further, you make it home. “I guess this is your stop,” He chuckles.

“You know the staff aren’t home, It’s pouring out there,” You sheepishly continue “I-I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” You can’t even believe the words that are coming out of your mouth, yet they feel so natural. 

He does his usual goofy shrug and mumbles an “Okay”. 

You say your name into the intercom and your let in to your expansive house, It’s a far difference from his warm and inviting home. You both walk across polished wooden floors with high ceilings, old paintings and weapons from a time before. He felt it was all a bit macabre. 

You take his hand leading him to your room. It’s hilarious when you get to your room. It's pink and filled to the brim with hello kitty and poster’s of Beyonce on your wall, it’s much more girly than the cold academic you are.

“Don’t gawk, I’m still a girl y’know.” You tell him, your words bringing him out of his trance. You take your sweater off infront of him as you're preparing to take a nice warm shower. He peaks over and sees you in your rain soaked white button down. He begins to blush as he sees your bra pink and full of ruffles just like your room. He almost gets an anime nosebleed from seeing you. 

“Here I’m gonna take a shower,” You throw him the remote. “Pick anything you want, I pretty much have all the good movies.” You wink uncharacteristically and slink into the bathroom. 

He turns on the tv and flips through the channels until he finds something. He hears a knock on the door, and while no one is on the other side he finds a fresh T-shirt and some comfy pants in his size in a warmed box. 

“Hey um, I thought you said no one was here.” He asked you through the wall.

“Oh there isn’t, I had my robot send it over.” He rolls his eyes. Of course you have a robot, He thinks to himself. 

He slips into the warm clothes, He doesn’t know however that you're peeping through the crack in your bathroom door, You notice his strong arms and wide back, He has such a soft chest. He’s jacked but not ripped and you don’t mind it one bit. 

You walk out into your bed room still in your robe, He’s sitting in your bed comfortably hand on his stomach. You look out the window seeing the worsening storm. 

“Hey do you wanna just stay the night?” You ask him. And while he could go through the storm no problem he needs to keep up the facade of being powerless so he just nods. You hand him your phone and tell him to call his parents. 

You sit at your vanity and start to moisturize your brown skin. He looks over to your glowing beautiful skin. He's so hungry it’s almost like he’s eating you with his eyes,he almost trips over his words when telling his parents he wouldn’t be home for dinner. 

There you are in your silk pajamas and a cute boy in your room, You have no idea what in the world to do. So you just get under the covers next to him. You hesitantly put your hand on his chest, and before you can pull away he takes your hand in his. The warmth he gives you makes you melt. 

“You know farmville, Sometimes I think I like you.” The confession falls out of your mouth like your Niagra falls. You sit up wide eyed staring into his sky blue eyes.

He just gives you a toothy grin like no other and plants a soft kiss to your lips, after a second he pulls away. “ I was wondering when you were gonna come to your senses.” 

You roll your eyes and kiss him, this time it gets deeper. You rake your hands through his messy brown hair as he places you on top of him. You straddle his lap and his strong arms cradle your back. He melts into your mouth like vanilla ice cream on a hot summer’s day, And he smells like fresh cut wood and apple pie. He tastes like a dream you’ve been desperately reaching out for but you could never hold. 

He pulls away to catch his breath, with blown out pupils like he’s in love, (Well he is now lol). 

“Gosh, you’re just perfect.” He breathes into your neck slowly kissing down your collarbone to your plump and supple chest. 

You take a deep breath everytime he kisses your radiant brown skin. “Clark,” You break him out of his trance. “Yes, Princess?” The nickname sounds fresh and new but familiar and quiet all at the same time. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” You ask him timidly. “Girl, I don’t think your brother himself could keep me away from you.” He chuckles into you as he slips off the strap of your top. Exposing your  glowing bare breasts.

His mouth salivates at the sight of them, And in one swift motion he pulls you further into him.

He places his warm mouth on one of your soft peaks while caressing the other.

“Oh Clark,” You say his name with a sharp gasp “That feels s-so good.” You enjoy his movements as he kisses lower and lower till he reaches your soft entrance. 

His eyes roam the sight, his pupils blown and his breath hazy. Your scent light and sweet envelops his nose. 

He starts licking your clit with long swipes of his tongue, you sharply moan. Tangling your fingers in his soft brown hair. 

He’s eating you out like he is a man on death row, and you're his final meal. And then when you didn’t think it could get any better he places his thick fingers in your sloppy wet pussy.

“Oh-Oh my god Clark,” you moan out. You're loving every single bit of attention he gives you. And he’s doing so much it’s like he can hold his breath forever he hasn’t even come up for air. 

You're so focused on the pleasure he gives you, you don’t even realize how your belly feels warmer. How your toes start to curl, how your body starts to writhe and squirm. But he knows, he knows that even between the broken sentences and near pornographic moans your body is close to climax.

“C’mon princess, think you can give me me a-” and before the man can continue there you are creaming this poor farmboy’s fingers. Your back arches as you cry out in pleasure. 

“GOD, FUCK.”  Your words spurn him on as he didn’t realize himself that he was grinding into your bed. His dick so hard and with precum leaking at the tip. He’s afraid to hurt you with his size. He won’t even bring up the subject of his sore cock to you opting to handle his business in the bathroom. 

“Oh my god Clark that was amazing.”, “Oh well I thought-”  you interrupt his words with a deep and passionate kiss as your hands glide down to his member. You can almost feel the heat coming off of it. 

“ I think I know how to help you with that.” You giggle. You can see his cheeks heating up as he blushed furiously. 

You pull his pants down to reveal a huge throbbing cock. “How the hell am I supposed to fit this in my-” 

He hears you mumble under your breath, “Y’know you don’t have to do this.” “Clark, Baby if I didn’t want to do this you would know. Now open my side drawer, there’s a bottle of lube in there.”

So he grabs the lubricant for you, for some reason he is surprised at your usage of the bottle mostly because it’s halfway gone. 

“Oh relax, it's for my dildo’s, ya goof.” You giggle at him once more. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of that noise. 

You apply the cold lube to his red throbbing cock, which sends shivers down his spine. His chest heaves in pleasure as you stroke his thick member. 

“Baby do you want me to ride it, or do you wanna be on top?” The two options scream out to him, “Can you ride me p-please?” he asks, almost nervous like he didn’t just eat your pussy like it was a birthday cake. 

You straddle his lap, grinding on him teasing his very soul. You finally give him some relief  when you place his tip at your entrance. He’s so big you have to catch your breath every inch on the way down.

“I’m sorry princess, I know it’s a lot,” “Oh no it’sss.” You hiss in the middle of your sentence. “I can take it.” 

You finally bottom out and it feels like the air has been removed from your lungs. You reassure him that you're fine but he insists you take a breather before you start. 

You slowly pump yourself up and down on his length relishing in the feeling, His hands gripping the sheets trying so hard not to hurt you. The pleasure is almost to good as his beautiful pink lips part in an attempt to breath out a silent prayer of release.

“Princess, I’m so sorry I can’t-” He grabs on to your hips, speeding up the pace on both of your pleasures. 

“W-wait Clark, Oh ff-uck!” You whine as you take your arms and wrap them around his back, glistening with sweat. 

It seems like his strokes would never stop but as his pleasure builds with yours. 

“I’m gonna, s-hit.” He hisses as spurts of his cum flow inside of you as you follow releasing on to him.

You both look at each other with boundless stars in each other's eyes. “That. was… Amazing, I never would have thought goody two shoes Clark Kent could do all of that.” You breathily laugh. 

“Right back atcha, now I think I need a shower. Care to uh join me?” he asks shyly. 

You smirk because the fun has only just begun.

Taglist: @blackynsupremacy

[cookiekitkat8484]

It has come to my attention that people who haven't read the comics don't realise Wallace was the one who harassed scott into being his friend. Like he saw that nerd at uni and went oh yeah that's my guy now. This bitch would not shut up and showed up at his house uninvited to hang out till scott gave in and befriended him, then they got suuuper drunk and scott let him crash at his. He comes to family dinners, is best friends with his sister, and chats to his mum.

He despises envy more than anything and is furious when she tries to mess with his life again and scott gets hurt, so he cooks him breakfast and comforts him. He coaches scott in fighting and helps with strategies so he doesn't get his ass kicked. He bullies him to leave the house because there's a heatwave and he wants to make sure he doesn't get heatstroke. Like they're close enough Wallace walks around in his underwear (though scott whines about it).

I've seen people assume Wallace supports scott out of pity but that man is a bitch and morally questionable (affectionate), I do not think he would put up with it at all if he didn't want him around, especially given he can barely afford to support them both. When they stop living together he doesn't just kick him out it's because their landlord kicks them out, he actively enchorages scott to move in with Ramona out of care for him and offers to stay with him if he needs it, though ends up signing a lease with his boyfriend (in his defence scott didn't ask for him to stay and decided to try make things work with Ramona) but still let's him stay at the new apartment with them when Ramona kicks him out.

Yeah he's mean to scott sometimes and makes fun of him/is brutally honest but he basically became part of Scott's family and part of that is calling people out when they're being a total jackass and teasing them, he's that kinda guy and scott knows that he doesn't actually hate him or something. Yeah scott will do puppy dog eyes if he wants something but wallace is frequently nice to him on his own initiative and scotts not a suck up to Wallace, he can be a bitch right back at him.

They're a really important part of each other's lives. though I can understand people not familiar with the characters who watched the show thinking Wallace doesn't care about scott being gone, literally all the characters reacted super casually. Bryan has tried to clarify his way of trying to cope is him "being a jerk"/disconnecting/acting apathetic. Also in the show o'malley basically confirms Wallace had feelings for scott and that was why he had the affair with Todd and you can quote him on that, aswell as scott admitting how they became roomates was "somewhat gay" in the comics, so there's definitely some weird more than friends emotional mess tied in there.

comic panels i reference under the cut

TLDR wallace lives with him because he cares about him, whether you read that as still somewhat romantic or now platonic, with either interpretations fitting better with different versions of the story

[vanya-evergreen]

How to remember.(Chapter 1)

Masterlist

<Prev Next>

Relationship: BatFam x reader (platonic)

Summary: At the age of 11, you woke up in an other world without any guidance and all the money you once lacked. You were left with only your memeories and your other memories.

You tired to remember, their life, but it seemed like they didn't want you too. So when trying to navigate the intricate sides of an elite schoo, but you always got in trouble when it came to faces and names.

Cw: brief description of gore

No use of Y/n

Wc: 5k+

A/n- Woo first post! Exciting but so nerve racking, honestly have never posted my fanfic before. So, sorry if its kinda rough, had no one to beta, bare with me please. The characters are probably OOC, since I only recently got back into DC after seeing the "do the butts match post?" from the ai voice reddit post on tik tok. But you what that's more fun anyways, right? anyway please enjoy a really really random idea

Tick tick tick tick

The room was quiet, with only a few scribbles of pens or pencils to fill the void. You resided at your desk, hunched over, while resting your face on your hand. Your eyes lazily review the assignment in front of you for the 7th time. You had finished the assignments for the day, with each answer being correct that  left you with only your thoughts. Your eye twitched, turning your head slowly toward the window, while slowly moving your head from your hand to the desk. You went through your day just to try and remember, waking up, first 2 classes, all fine. Until, on your way to your current period, you ran into a younger student, probably a sophomore, maybe a junior. 

You cringed silently, you were just in your mind, really your memories from both this world and your original world. When you ran into a younger student, you both fell and could only manage a quick sorry before moving on. He was barely getting to his feet when you turned away, you were so stuck in your mind that you couldn’t even offer a proper apology, let alone your hand. You can't help but think back to the faint whisper you heard as you walked away. You made a mental note to find and properly apologize to him during lunch, if you could remember what he looked like, seeing as you only really saw his keychains on his backpack as they jingled when he got up.

Your head started throbbing as you thought too much, you shut your eyes tightly, wiping your mind clean, then opening them again .You stared out the window, trying not to think much, just trying to learn to just exist. Why is existing one of the hardest things to learn? You watch the clouds clash into each other slowly creating an ocean of a scale of whites and grays. You slowly let your mind blank, even just for a moment, it was nice. 

You could slowly feel your drifting off, almost like you were disconnecting from your physical body. Until the sound of mindless chatter started up in the back of the room, pencils still wrote, notably faster than before. This means the period was almost up, so that means lunch and trying to find that one guy. You sat up, collected the assignments from your desk, then got up and turned them in. You got back to your seat right as the bell rang. 

You picked up your stuff and got out of there as quickly as you could, just to round the corner to be surprised by an underclassman. He had green eyes that made very uncomfortable eye contact with yours. You almost immediately looked away from his very intense glare. You side eye him and see his bag. The keychains. 

“Shit” you let out under your breath as you released your present problem. Your eye drifted back to his face, he didn't look all that happy to see you. ‘definitely him’. “Hey man, listen…” you started. You felt genuinely bad about earlier, you could only imagine how big of an asshole it made you seem like.

“Who are you?” his tone was blunt, with a twinge of annoyance. 

Your mind stalled, that's not what you expected him to say. You thought he would threaten you or maybe pull the ‘do you know who i am card?’ or ‘I am going to ruin your life’. You felt the hostility he emulated, you felt uneasy. You furrowed your eyebrows, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. The almost seemingly endless stream of words in your mind were stuck in your throat. “ ___ ___” you choked out with your last bit of brain cells.

“ Where are you from?” His voice shot straight through you. He gave you no time to collect your thoughts from the initial question. Your mind was scattered from how fast questions came at you. The unease in your stomach grew. 

“Uh, gotham, like everyone here.” Confusion clouded your already foggy mind , ‘what did this have to do with me running into him earlier?’ “ I am sorry about earlier by the way.” you added quickly with a sorrowful expression, the cloudiness didn’t consume your intention to apologize.

“Gotha, hm, how come I have never seen any event?” he ignored your apology. ‘Okay, that's rude.’ You tried to grasp at whatever you could to respond.

“What events?” was all you could get. You felt like you were going to faint from the speed of his questions. Why did he care so much about what you did, you were just a stranger to him. 

“Galas, business meetings…” he listed off different types of high end events, but you didn’t really listen after the first two. Your head was spinning, you had to try and collect the scattered pieces of your mind. 

You rushed your recovery, you went from being up in your head for the last 20 minutes to being pulled down, through the earth’s crust, into a cave being interrogated by someone you have never talked to before this. ‘Who the hell is this guy?’

“I am sorry, but who are you?” You interrupted him midway through his next question, ‘that was a great idea’. “Am I meant to know you or something?” Ah yes, your most infamous line. You put your hand on your forehead, trying to rationalize this interaction. His mouth was open, he looked almost offended by your question.

“you’re joking?” he exclaimed agitated, he creased his eyebrows. You had to get out of there.

“No.“ You turn your head to the side, throwing your hands up in the air while turning your upper body away.

“ Well okay then, have you ever heard of the Waynes?” You do remember hearing about Wayne enterprise last time you went to the doctors, like when you first woke up in this world, which was like, 6 years ago, maybe. That doesn’t really matter. You had heard of it.

 “The company?” you questioned. He groaned, if in relief or annoyance, that was beyond you. 

“Yes, but what have you heard about the Wayne family?” he looked you square in the eyes, you turned away slowly not really saying anything. You looked guilty. “Nothing?” you nodded assuring his previous statement. Still not meeting his eye, not wanting to deal with that memory for the rest of the day. “How?”

“I don’t read the gossip columns?” You suggested with an awkward shrug and chuckle. You only now realized that there was a wall of students formed around you and him. You definitely had to get out there now.

“What? What do you mean” he was really pissed now, but you didn't even hear half of what he was saying you were just trying to find the quickest way out of here. You looked around looking for an opening within the students. You noticed one right behind him so you had to be quick about it.

“Listen, I am so sorry about being early, I didn't mean to make you fall, really.” you seemed less sincere than before, you were trying to make sure that you didn't seem rushed. “I really didn’t and if it had been any other time I would have made sure that I had offered my hand but I just wasn’t entirely aware. I am sorry, again.” You had made your way around him away around him as you talked, you maintained eye contact with him until you were able to slip in between the students. “Please forgive me, and I am sorry I couldn't answer your question adequately.”

 “Wait-” you heard him shout as you speed walked away, trying to blend in with a group of students that were walking down the hallway. He, of course, saw you slip into the group and approached you. You had to think quickly, thankfully there was another group of students that was going the opposite way. You quickly slipped into another group, successfully avoiding him. You could only finally breathe when you made it to the dining hall without running into him again. 

You went into the lunch line, trying to just forget whatever the hell that was. You moved through the line slowly, grabbing whatever looked appetizing today. One of the many good things about going to a rich school was that the food was edible. You were grabbing the last bit of your lunch before you felt a cold air run up your spine, you said a silent prayer in hope that it wasn’t who you thought it was. You tried not to look, Maybe if you didn’t look he would leave. You remained calm and walked with your food to the table where you sat with your friends, making sure to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible. You were able to sit down and eat most of your lunch before you felt him approach your table, you could feel a cold sweat develop on your shoulders as you took your last couple of bites.

He gradually approached, carefully looking over everyone trying to figure where you were. Your friends were having a typical conversation, what they were doing that night or where they are going to college and what they are going to study. Until one of them saw him approach. “Is that Damian Wayne approaching us, right now?” that when you realized why he was having a hard time with you early, you couldn’t recognize him or his family, but your friends, who never cared for status and the tabloid’s talk recognized him, or Damian now that you had a name to the face. You straightened up when you heard this. 

Your friends looked at you strangely until they realized you were the one he was looking for, and you did not want to be found. They acted quickly. They, as naturally as possible, started to clean up. Throwing away trash, and putting away their food. They even helped you pack up, and as a group you slipped out of the dining hall into a hallway, then out into the courtyard. You would have to thank them later with some homemade baked goods. They really came to your rescue today.

You looked at your phone, 12:45. Lunch was almost over, never would have you thought that you would be grateful for that. ‘Only 5 more minutes’. Your relief was somewhat short lived as you had to now answer their question. “So, what happened?” one of them, Leah, asked flatly.

“Well you see…” You started not really wanting to talk. You looked around trying to procrastinate this conversation.

“Stop putting this off” Another one, Warren, jabbed you in your side with a pencil causing you to flinch.

“Fine…” you sighed feeling defeated, ” So, today I may have, made him fall, but I also fell.” you signed as you talked. you looked down and then back up at Wynn hoping for their pity only to be met with a vaguely threatening look to continue. “And after 3rd period he was waiting for me in the hallway and he asked who I was. I told him my name and then asked who he was because he was asking me a lot of questions.”You smiled with fear behind your eyes. They looked at you mouth agape, no one could be as out of tune with the news as you are.

‘What the hell? Did you even apologize??’ Wynn signed, they were not happy with you.

“ The fuck you mean you didn’t know him?” Leah exclaimed, grabbing onto your shoulders and shaking you very violently, making you feel sick. You knew you fucked up bad when Warren did have anything to say. 

“Wynn, I did apologize!! Like 3 times too, and I am sorry I am too busy thinking of other things!” You continued to sign as you talked, trying to defend yourself. Warren and Leah were lecturing you about how stupid your actions were and Wynn was just shaking their head. You started to tune them out when you saw the door open and of course Damian came outside. You quickly got up and picked up your stuff.

“We need to finish our-” he started before being interrupted by the bell ring. Much to your luck.

“Hey, well see you guys later, I need to get to class” you waved goodbye to your friend and signed ‘please don't kill me’ to Wynn, before you ran past Damian to your 4th class, They all exchanged looks with each other before you friends quickly walked away to their own classes. You made it to your 4th period without much trouble, besides a few stares the class went perfectly, boring but fine. The next 2 classes were a mix and repeat of your 4th period, only with increasing whispers every time you walked in a class.

 It was finally your 8th class, study hall, you were able to get to your normal spot without much trouble. You were even able to put in your headphones and start working on a rough draft to a machine that you were designing. You sat most of the day up until this point, so your arms always felt stiff. So you stretched your arms, only to hit something. Quickly retracting your arms back to your side, you turned around. ‘FUUUUUU-’ It was Damian. “Heyyyy.” you slowly turned back to your computer in front of you, taking off your headphones.

“Are you gonna avoid me again?” He was looming over you, you could feel the burning on top of your head from the way he glared at you. You shut your laptop and braced yourself for all the questions he was going to ask. 

“No.” You shook your head, he sat down across from you. You looked anywhere but at him.

“The events, why have I never seen you?” He went straight to it.

“I don't think I am famous enough to go.” You shrugged, he raised an eyebrow at you suggesting that you were lying. You were ticked off by this. “ Listen, If I have gotten an invite, I have never seen it.” You folded your arms. 

“ How did you get into this school?” You didn't really have a clear answer to this one, “I have heard about how you could never recognize people who are from well known families in Gotham, and some that were even famous by themselves.”

“A trust fund.” That was your typical go to answer, but in all honesty you didn't know. While you had some memories, a very limited amount, of this body's life, they were almost all blurry. None of them were really clear, but you could feel what they, the other you, were feeling. You could make really rough assumptions. Like you knew you had a mother (or a female figure) that you loved, and somewhere along the way she got remarried and you had step-parent up until she died. You could feel the way the memories would cause a physical reaction so you tried not to think about it too much. “And I just have never really had the mental space to pay attention to that, plus faces and names aren’t my thing.”

He wasn’t satisfied with your answers “So what? You just don't know anything about the world?”

“No, of course I pay attention to the crimes in Gotham, and the people that handle them.” This wasn’t a lie, you did pay attention to that, you even knew their names, a big honor to have, in your mind at least. You were a huge fan of them, even before- you know. 

“Hm.” He slouched as he contemplated your answers, while resting his hands intertwined together maintaining eye contact with you. There was silence between you two, it was too long. You restlessly tapped your fingers on the table while resting your head on the other hand, watching him. Waiting for whatever comes next of his seeming never ended questions, but he seemed to be stumped.

“Is that it?” You broke the silence “You have everything you need to know. Right?” You straighten your back, now sitting up right. He only continued to stare. Internally you rolled your eyes before you put one of your headphones on. 

You opened your laptop, quickly glancing over the blueprint for the machine. You were getting bored of this. you looked blankly at your computer screen. ‘I wonder what I can find about Damian's family.’  What a dangerous thought to have. You, with a renewed vigor, quickly opened a new search window and started simple. ‘Wayne family’ you were overwhelmed with the number of results. 2 billion. 2 billion. You understood why Damian was so shocked now. That was just for the family too; you count the profiles, 9. 

First, you clicked on ‘Thomas Wayne’, you were somewhat familiar with the name. You read about the tragedy of how he died, you knew this story, you watched a true crime video on it a couple of years back. You felt it was only appropriate to make your way down the family tree so you clicked on ‘Bruce Wayne’. Of course you could assume he was Damian's father. There were links to articles about some scandal of his or how his business was doing. You read a bit further only to find out that the man adopted a lot. Like, you had wondered how he had 6 children but guess that was your answer. You were about to click on Damian's profile only to stop.

“What exactly are you doing?” So he didn’t lose his vocal cords. You snapped out of your trance by his voice.you realized how funky what you just did was.You felt a bit like a creep now, searching up his family in front of him was not the best idea.

You coughed clearing your throat “Why do you care?” You tried to keep an even voice. 

“You were staring so intently at your computer that it almost looked like you were planning something.” He leaned back with his arms folded. 

“Well,” You closed your search tab later, planning on continuing to research (basically stalk) them later. “I am working on a machine.” You ignored the underlying implication that you were possibly evil. You pulled up the blue prints and math for the machine and turned it around to show him. 

“What does it do?” His glare intensified.

“It’s meant to be a multi-dimensional portal, of sorts.” This was the truth. “It's more of a concept than anything.” This was a lie. “I have to make this for my engineering class, we have an assignment where we make up a theoretical invention and try to come up with a way to make them real” Another truth.

“Interesting,” he became more vigilant, yet interested because of  your words. “And have you figured it out?” 

“No, and if I did it probably wouldn’t work,” much to your dismay. “This assignment is more about how well we can explain our logic than the actual realism of it.”

“Oh,” You couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or disappointed. “Well you must enjoy the class if you are putting this much work into it.”

“Yep ,” you said through slightly gritted teeth. You didn’t mind the class, in fact you would’ve loved it, if you were still in your original word. “I guess.” You smiled tightly, turning your laptop back around. “So what about you? Do you have a favorite class?” Your smile shifted from tight and sharp to curved and soft, this was classic. You did this when you were trying to shift the attention away from something you didn’t want to discuss. You could almost see him relax, ever so slightly, but still he’s coming around. Maybe.

“Art” his arms were still folded, but his eyes didn’t seem so analytical or hostile. While it wasn’t a lot it was better than what you had gotten out of him from most of the conversation. 

“Really, would you be willing to show me some of your pieces?” you asked ever so politely. 

“Why would I show you?” And there is the defensiveness.

“Because I showed you my blueprints.” your smile faltered for a moment only to return within a second, you looked back to your laptop.

“Right,” his arms were more loosely folded. “Still I don't have too.” his arms tighten back up again.

“That is true,” you nodded in agreement, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing them, but that's your choice.”  You weren’t going to force him to do anything, it wasn’t your job. He was quiet. You peered over your laptop to see what was going on. He looked at you, eyes wide, arms barely folded. He looked like a cat after finding something interesting. “What?”

“Nothing.” He returned to his vigilante mood. You shrugged it off and continued to work on your draft. He continued to observe you, you continued to work. You both stayed this way for a while’ it was like you were in a mental battle with him, a really one-sided one. You didn’t really have any intention of resuming the conversation. 

The silence was very welcomed. It allowed you to get your work done, you would’ve been done in 30 minutes if he didn’t show up. The silence was interrupted but the sound of a zipper opening. You didn’t look up from your laptop; slowly a sketch book came into your peripheral. You glanced at it, with a bit of hesitation you reached for it. Closing and sliding your laptop to the side, replacing it with the sketch book. you opened the cover and started going through the sketch book carefully. While had only shifted the conversation to get the heat off of you, you were nicely surprised with his talent.

The sketches in the beginning were good, in quality. They were all of different gorey situations, from a man having his head torn apart, to a woman with her skin falling off, it said something about his childhood, but that was his therapist's job to decide what this said. The theme changed after a few more pages of graphics images, which had become much less violent. There were first a few of just some plants, they were nice but not as nice as the first bug you saw, you could deduct that he had real references to base them off of. You flipped through the page, seeing pages full of multiple individual sketches, to pages of only one, fully detailed, landscapes. WIth some gore but it was far fewer than before . 

You could see his improvement. They were good to begin with but they were too focused on the bigger image, they were missing something. You felt like he figured whatever he was missing, this was shown in the recurring dog, Titus, or that's what he labeled the drawing. You flipped  through a few more pages, mostly animals and plants, until you saw the first human sketch that wasn’t a subject of a horrific act. You had seen the face only 20 minutes prior, it was Bruce Wayne, but he wasn’t wearing his playboy smile, he wasn’t even smiling. It was only a headshot but you could tell he wasn’t present in his mind. He was wearing a thoughtful look, a distant look. 

You looked over the page more carefully now, there was still an overall theme of live studies of plants and animals, with some small landscapes, but there was new addition with people now, they were all labeled with their names, you roughly could recalled some of them from early search on his family, they were greatly detail, they all seem to show some sort of part of their personality, their real personalities. Not the public image they upheld but who they really were. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking at this, but you think he would’ve stopped you if he didnt want you seeing this. You turned more pages, he had improved a lot, he had not only found what he was missing, but more. Every drawing and sketch, you left no drawing unseen.

You stopped at one page, it was a full page dedicated to a  family portrait, or a sketch of one. The portrait was the formal ones you were used to. They were casual clothes, no one was looking straight forward. No poses, no one sitting, nor was their hair combed neatly. It looked like just a family out and about. They all seemed so close, it seemed to be more of a wish than a reality but you were not close to him so maybe it was his reality. You looked over the page a final time before turning to the page. The rest of the sketchbook was architecture and landscapes with sprinkles of animals that you assumed were his pets. The talent he had was special, you would honestly tell him that he should pursue art, even if just on the side.

You slid it to Damian. “You have some real talent.” You expressed with a calm tone.

“I know.” He stated as if it was a known fact.  You choked on the air in your throat trying to hold back your laughter. He held a blank expression, he wasn’t cocky, if he was he would be smiling. 

“I am glad that you see it,” You look at your phone, 5 minutes before school ends, “I always get annoyed when people try to deflect praise.” You closed your laptop and put it into your bag. “I think it's a waste of time, it's just an attempt to seem humble”  you secured your bag to your back, “but that’s kinda hypocritical of me to say, don't you think?” The bell rings.

“Yes it is.” he agrees, nodding his head.

“By the way, what class did you skip to talk to me?” There was no way he had study hall this period.

“Well,” he paused. He just stood there not really wanting to answer you, you chuckled. He wasn’t happy that you laughed at him.

“Alright, good to know. Anyways, have a good day.” You walk away, still chuckling. before leaving through the door, you turned back, looking at him “Feel free to show me more art if you ever choose to.” You gave him a wide grin as you span around on your heel and continued to walk away with the typical bounce in your step. You didn't see his reaction, but it didn’t matter. You were able to get away from him without him asking you anymore questions you wouldn’t have been able to answer. 

The hallway was crowded, a sea of students were either trying to head home or back to their dorms. You got through it quickly as you had taken to the window method, where if you see an opening in between students, you take it. Something seemed off today, well more off than normal.  You didn’t pay attention to that. You made it to the front of the school and found your driver waiting for you, you waved and smiled before getting in and heading home.

Damian wasn’t sure how to feel about this, or he couldn’t pinpoint how he felt. You were so nice but he was suspicious of you. I mean, wouldn’t you be too? You were rich enough to go to Gotham academy. Which was known for being a school for the elite, yet he couldn’t connect you to any of the elite families. You also didn’t know any other elite family, especially the Wayne's. A founding family of Gotham, and always had something going around on the news. It's like you just dropped on to the face of the earth randomly when you were 11. 

He had already pulled your file from both cityhall and the school. Your school record was almost squeaky clean, only one instant of a fight that was deemed not your fault and bullying targeted towards you. Your city record only showed that you were an orphan with no listed legal guardian and that you have lived in the same penthouse for almost 7 years, near old Gotham. “No named father and mother is dead” he read his notes out loud. “What the fu-”

“Master Damian.” Alfred was standing in the doorway with a steamed suit for this weekend's gala. “Excuse the intrusion, I just came to put your formal suit away and say that Master Bruce is ready for patrol.”

“Thank you Alfred,” Damian gathered the pages, straightened them, and put everything into a file. He placed it to the side for later.

“Also,” Alfred continued to speak as he hung Damians suit in his closet. “I got a call from the school” Damian stopped and looked at him. Damian’s eyes followed Alfred as he walked towards the door. “Master bruce doesn’t know, yet, but I wouldn't recommend doing that again” Alfred warned him as he shut the door. Damian was glad Alfred would keep his secret, even if just for this once.

Damian heads down to the Batcave. He was still annoyed, he hated how easily he could let his guard falter so easily around you. You were too nice to a practical stranger. He thought, no, he knew that there was something up with you. There is no one still this decent in Gotham, not in the city where they needed a rich family to handle their criminal problem, or where there seems to be a S-level threat every couple of months. You simply could not exist in a city like this.

He passed many large frames with paintings, he never really paid attention to them, like he would be now. There were points where there were smaller frames with photos and he looked over at just the right time to see a very familiar face. He stared for a moment before continuing to walk but much faster now. After he was suited up, he met his father as he was sitting at the computer.

“Damian.” Bruce greeted him, still reading over files pulled up on the screen. Damian to a quick read over the files, it was a missing boy’s case. Probably kidnapped and being held for ransom or maybe because her parents did know something they shouldn’t.

“Father.” Damian replied. He eyed his father, he wanted to ask straight up but he knew his father would easily hide his reaction if he did so directly. So he waited for the question he typically hated disliked answering.

“How was school today?” Bruce was never the most attentive father but he tried, this was one of his few ways of trying to stay in tune with his children's lives. Damian would always say mostly the same thing ‘unchallenging’ or something along those lines. But tonight was different.

“Fine, but I met this person today,” Damian said.

“Oh really” Bruce raised an eyebrow and turned his chair around to face him, Damian has never mentioned meeting someone before. “Who are they?”

“___ ___, they are a senior.” Bruce tensed for a second at the mention of your name. That was all Damian needed to see from him. Bruce, of course, regained his composure within milliseconds.

“Hm, good to hear” Bruce almost mumbled. “I hope they are nice.” He turned back to the computer. Damian was a bit smug about getting that reaction from his father, what a long night it was going to be for Bruce.

[romanceyourdemons]

it’s really interesting that the common wisdom with regards to formal specificity is that novels can contain more per unit than films. and while it’s true that novels can more naturally or efficiently communicate a character’s thoughts and history and due to stylistic standards can fit a longer narrative into one unit than a 90 minute film, films actually communicate significantly more information than novels in sets, costumes, performances, editing, lighting, soundtracks, etc. and every piece of information in prose literature has an implicit significance to it that every piece of visual noise and every background extra in a film does not. which means that it’s SIGNIFICANTLY easier to effectively foreshadow a twist in a film than a novel—it would be incredibly tricky to make the sixth sense (1999) or vertigo (1958) as a novel, because in print form the devices used for foreshadowing would be so obvious that they either would have kneecapped the reveals, or they wouldn’t have been included at all. it would be clunky to surround madeleine with the color green in text (not that it would have had the same connotation outside of the film medium), and the little clues shyamalan drops throughout the sixth sense (1999), from actors’ eyelines to the positioning of furniture, are so rarely specified in narration that if the writer had spoken them out loud they would have flagged the readers’ attention, whereas in the film they could easily be an extra’s or a set designer’s choice and therefore slip under the radar. that’s not to say that it’s impossible in text!! obviously it’s not. but it is one area where film is far more suited to the device than prose

[revasserium]

midnight cravings

riddle rosehearts; 1,603 words; nsfw, pls dni if ur a minor; all characters depicted as 18+; fem!reader, tipsy!riddle, oral, fingerfucking, senpai!kink???... welp.

you find him with flushed cheeks and sticky fingers, his eyes honey-glazed as he looks up at you over the tray of liqueur-filled chocolates, his lips stained pink with laughter. he hiccups, tongue darting out to lick at his fingertips, his whole body swaying when you raise an eyebrow and blink.

“riddle?”

“o-oh — oops…”

“what on earth…”

he hiccups again, giggling as he stumbles his way towards you, nearly tripping over his very well-polished boots, leaning down towards you with a shy, sly kind of smile that makes your stomach twist like taffy inside you.

“hm… guess trey made them a little strong this year…” he muses, his eyes flickering from your lips up to your eyes and back down again.

“riddle… were those the whiskey chocolates that trey-senpai made for tomorrow’s holiday party?”

“mm… well, he did say i could try one… or two…”

you can’t help the smile stretching across your lips.

“or… seven?”

riddle purses his lips, his lashes fluttering as he lets out a soft sigh. you can smell the sweetness on his breath, the golden sting of whiskey, feel the closeness of his body to yours. you forget that he’s taller than you, but like this, he could cage you in easily, his eyes half-lidded, his smile knowing and lazy and distinctly cat-like.

“don’t make fun of me…” he says, his voice soft as he cocks his head.

“i — i’m not… i just…”

your breath catches as your eyes snag on the teasing edge of his smile, the way it lilts lopsided, the way he still tries to play at innocence even when the tension is palpable between you, thick as warmed butter.

“just… what? hm?”

you know you’re finished before your lips even meet, but when they do, you find yourself whimpering, the force of him startling. and sure, it’s different from how he usually is — sweet, attentive, perhaps a bit on the rigid side, but it isn’t like you haven’t seen him like this before, haven’t felt him like this before — on the occasions when he’s irked or tired or perhaps just a bite too excited. when he’s too happy or dizzy or drunk on life or laughter or you —

like this, he leaves you gasping.

“hm… i was just thinking…” he pulls back, casually swiping a thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes dark and hungry, tracking the wet trail his finger makes as it presses along the length of your mouth, dragging down your cheek till he can tilt your chin up towards him again.

“you never call me ‘senpai’… but you do with trey and cater… why’s that?” he asks, his voice just on the other side of nonchalance, his expression one of sharp, targeted curiosity, like he knows the answer but wants to hear you say it instead.

“i — i’m sorry, i’ll —”

“say it.”

you swallow, catch your lower lip in your teeth, eyes locking with his as his grin spreads cheshire-wide.

“s-senpai…”

his next breath is light, is one of laughter as he leans back down, “mm… good girl.”

you shiver as tingles rake up the length of your spine.

and then your thoughts skid through to pure incoherence as he melds his mouth to yours once more, pulling you to him, kissing you hard, kissing you hungry, kissing you like there’s an entire world somewhere beneath your tongue that he’d love nothing more than to be the cartographer for — you squeak as he hoists you up, always so much stronger than even you give him credit for, plopping you down on the biting cold of the metal kitchen table.

“y’know… i’d come down for a midnight snack originally…” he says, taking half a step back to look you over, taking in the muss of your hair, the ruffle of your clothes, your uniform collar loose and askew, your skin a tantalizing glimmer in the soft, dappled moonlight. and then, he drops to his knees and you nearly hiss in anticipation.

he trails his fingers along the bare skin of your thighs, pillowing his cheek on one of them.

“but i think i might just want to eat you instead.”

“r-riddle — !”

your eyes squeeze shut as he presses open your legs, your toes curling at the openness of it all, at the shock of embarrassment at being spread out like this, on the school’s kitchen table, no less — but riddle hums as he lets his hot breath wash over you, a thick groan rolling out of him as he tugs aside your panties and slicks a thumb through the wetness already collected along your folds.

“fuck,” he murmurs, and it punches through you, the way he says it, usually never one for such obscenities, the word slipping from him, more a prayer than a curse.

fuck, you agree, letting your head tip back as he leans in to lick a slow strip along your cunt, your fingers fisting in his hair, and on any other day, he might’ve balked at the sting, but now, tonight, he only revels in the way you pull him closer, your thighs shaking on either side of his head, the taste of you exquisite on his tongue.

“ri-riddle… please…” your voice trails off into a high-pitched whine as he wraps his mouth around your clit and sucks, leaving you a shaking pile atop the glistening metal table, still loaded to the one side with trey’s chocolate liqueurs. riddle grins, lifting his eyes to watch as you peer down at him, your cheeks dark with color, truly the sweetest, most intoxicating sight. the soft, warm, buzz of alcohol had loosened his limbs and inhibitions enough and he thinks that he likes you like this — pleading for him, shaking apart for him.

“ah… so pretty…” he muses, even as he leans up to press two fingers into you, fucking you slow, savoring the way you gasp and clench down around him, tight, and then tighter, your knees pressing together as if you could somehow keep him there. he grins.

“m-more… ah — ngh —”

your fingers scrabble for purchase you reach blindly down towards him, trying to do something, anything to get him to go faster, harder, perhaps to curl his fingers the way he knows you like. but he only catches your hands, holding your wrists still as he leans over you, his torso keeping your knees spread just so, his other hand still sunk knuckle-deep inside you.

“hehh… i don’t think you’re really in the position to make demands right now…” he runs a tight circle of your clit with his thumb and watches as your entire body arches off the table in pleasure.

“rid-dle — riddle — s-senpai — !”

his body shudders as he lets out a breathy laugh, his head dropping as he finally picks up the pace, fucking his fingers into you hard enough for you to keen before dropping back down to press his tongue back to your folds, sucking hard just to hear you scream.

“mm… look so good like this… so desperate for me, hm? what a pretty… little… pastry…” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts of his fingers, curling them inside you till he finds the place he’s looking for, the soft, tender spot inside you that has you twitching around him, begging and nearly incoherent with pleasure.

“’m s-so c-close — close —”

he moans loud and lewd against you as he pulls his fingers from inside your cunt, replacing it with his tongue, gripping your thighs as he eats you out hard enough for you to come undone right over his mouth, your body writhing over the metal table, nearly knocking the trays of sweets from their place beside you.

“aah-ahh… we’ve made… a mess…” he says, sounding rather pleased with himself as he pulls back, licking his lips, dragging a thumb across his chin before popping into his mouth, his eyes still locked with yours. you shudder as the aftershocks of your orgasm rake through you, not entirely able to shake the way he’s still watching you, as if this has done nothing to sate his particular brand of hunger.

he gives your thigh a small pat as you take a breath and force your body to sit up, cheeks flushing as you tug your panties back up your legs, smoothing your palms over the material of your skirt as you hop off the table.

“did… did you sober up a bit?” you ask, your voice uncharacteristically quiet as riddle leads you from the school kitchens, hand in hand, his gait still much more relaxed than it would’ve been in the daytime.

he peers at you from over his shoulder.

“hm… not in the slightest,” he says, and you stare up at him as he smirks.

the hallways are quiet as the pair of you make your way towards the hallway of mirrors, your footsteps echoing against the vast, stone walls.

“so… what are you going to tell trey-senpai tomorrow? when he asks you about the chocolates?”

riddle pauses for a second before shrugging.

“the truth, i suppose.”

“huh?”

he turns to you with that tell-tale grin as the pair of you reach the heartslabyul mirror, and he tugs you behind him towards his room.

“that i had a midnight craving, and… that it just had to be sated, now didn’t it?”

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Out Of Depth (But We’ll Be Okay)

Summary: Clint Barton x Fe!Reader -> You and Clint have been having an intimate relationship and it’s been hidden from the rest of the team. But, what happens when Fate throws you both a curve ball and it can no longer remain a secret?

Disclaimer: Fluff, swearing, feelings of being completely terrified of life, Sam and Bucky being idiots. Ignoring Endgame and CW. Clint has never been married or has kids in this fic. Friends/Co-workers to lovers. FwB SMUT (description is brief in the beginning, so feel free to skip), mentions of unprotected sex (be safe, wrap it up) MDNI. IF YOU CONTINUE READING THIS, YOU ARE CONSENTING TO READING 18+ THEMES. THIS IS YOUR WARNING.

Clint was good at his job. 

He had to be. He had no other choice. If he wasn’t good, that meant he was bad and that could result in one of two things. Either, he’d get fired. Or, he’d die. If he was bad at his job, he’d prefer his exit to be the former of the two options, but when it came down to it, he wouldn’t really have a choice. 

But, he was good at his job. So, it didn’t matter. 

What he wasn’t good at, however, was being a dad. Or, at least, being told he was about to become one and not freak out about it. 

You had told him three days after you had found out yourself. 

You could remember it. Being stood in your bathroom until you saw the very pink double lines appear on the centre of the stick, which made you back up until you sat on the toilet seat and placed a hand to your mouth. 

At first, you didn’t know how to react. 

You and Clint weren’t exactly…together. 

It had started just over a year ago when, after some strange happenings on missions, you found comfort in one another. It was just simple and casual. No strings. Just sex. But you were friends. And co-workers. So, you were both incredibly careful. 

But then you remembered the night in the hospital. Well, medical bay. 

10 weeks prior, you’d both been on a mission that left you more than worse for wear. Stage 4 concussion, three broken ribs, the rest severely bruised, cuts and scrapes to the rest of your body and loss of memory for the first 24 hours. 

But, on your final check-up, you were left by the doctors, alone, in your room. 

During your stay, Clint had come almost every night to sit with you. Even helped you get to and from the bathroom when the lights were too bright and your entire body felt like it had just been hit by a 1000 tonne truck. 

Other nights, when he wasn’t helping you to and from the bathroom, he’d lie with you and you’d both sit and watch some crappy old movies that Clint had managed to find. Some were better than others, but even then, you’d both fall asleep half way through. 

But, after 10 weeks, you had your final check up and Clint came to see you. 

You both talked for a while, about what was to come. What missions would be given, when you were going to be put back into the field, what he had done to Natasha to make her so mad that she came to you to ask for help in getting back at him. 

And then he sat beside you and asked how you were feeling. 

“Like I want to get out of here.” you had answered honestly. “I just want to get back to normal.”

“And your head? You took quite the hit.” Clint pushed a strand of hair from your face so he could see you more clearly. 

“The concussion has gone but I still have a small headache.”

“You know, there are ways to get rid of that.”

You smirked, already having an idea on where Clint was going with this. “So, I’ve heard.”

“Maybe I could help you out?”

“Really? How so?”

Slowly, Clint moved closer to you before you continued to lie back until he was flush against you and the mattress where he slowly kissed your neck. 

“Well, there is the usual. Yoga,” a kiss, “Sleep,” another, “some weird tea that probably tastes like nail polish remover,” another kiss. “And then there's my idea. And, it technically hits two of the three.”

“Oh, really?” you laughed as he continued to press his lips against your skin. “And what is that?”

“I think you already know, baby.”

You smiled before his lips met yours. From there, your bodies took over. Your hands came up his side before pushing their way through his hair. His knee pressed between your thighs, teasing you ever so slightly. Meanwhile, his hands gripped at your hips pulling you closer as a moan emptied itself into his mouth. 

“Let me take care of you,” you heard him tell you before his lips moved back down your neck, leaving a trail of, come by morning, love bites in their wake. 

Usually, you were both so careful. But that night…that night you just wanted each other. Needed each other, even. You let him take care of you; his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to make you want more, his lips and tongue leaving marks across your body that only made it yearn for more, his knee pressing against you before he replaced it with his hand, his fingers curling up inside of you. All the while, he watched you curse underneath him, swear to God, swear to anyone who would hear your cries of pleasure. He felt your hands roam his body until he finally moved himself to your core where he felt your fingers and nails run themselves down the back of his head and neck, begging him for more. 

You climaxed twice before he entered you, and even then, you came again. 

He was the only man who had done this to you. Others, they had come close, but it was never like this. Clint took his time, teasing your body in ways you didn’t know would have you begging for him to the point where you felt as if it was going to last forever. 

And afterwards, he’d take care of you then, too. He’d wipe away any wetness from you before handing you a glass of water and helping you stand despite wanting to fall asleep in his arms there and then. By the time you’d get back from the bathroom, he’d hand you a t-shirt of his that just covered you - but still, if you weren’t both so relaxed, he’d take you there and then…again. 

And you’d let him. 

But that night, rather than using any safe measurements, it all remained unprotected. Something that would only come to your mind after being sat in the bathroom for an hour and half, staring at the two very pink lines on the white stick. 

It took you three days to initially come to terms with what was about to happen. Even then, you hadn’t fully accepted it. You were pregnant with Clint’s baby. And in 9 to 10 months, that baby will be born, hopefully healthy, and soon enough would be an exact share of your and Clint’s DNA.

On the fourth day, you went in search of Clint. And, you found him in his bedroom at the compound. 

After giving your knock, he called for you to come in. 

“It’s unlocked!”

The moment you entered, you locked the door behind you. 

“Clint?”

“In here.”

Tony had created a connecting room for him to practise against targets so when you entered he had his arrow drawn and released it on bullseye. 

“Hey,”

“Hey.”

“We need to talk.”

“I’m all ears.” 

You nodded. Mostly, his focus was on the targets so at least that made it easier not having to look him in the eye. 

“Okay, I’ll just get to it,” you took a breath, clasping your hands together. “I’m pregnant.”

The arrow that Clint had drawn and intended to go through bullseye once more…landed in the wall. 

“You’re…”

“Pregnant,” you nodded. “9 weeks, I think, at least.”

“When did…”

“Three days ago. I know, I’m freaking out, too.”

Clint looked back to the targets, not knowing where else to look. 

“I just thought you should know.”

Clint nodded before backing up and sitting down on one of the chairs beside the wall. 

“You’re pregnant?”

You nodded. “Yep.”

“And I’m gonna be…”

“Yep.”

“Huh.”

You moved to sit beside him. “I know. Believe me, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.”

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“You’re really pregnant?”

Sighing, you lifted your hips from the chair to pull the fresh pregnancy test from your back pocket. “Pretty positive.”

You handed him the test where he let out a small gasp, covering his mouth as he looked down at the two pink lines. 

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing.” you said. “And…if you don’t want to be involved, I’ll figure it out. But, I want you. I want you to be involved.”

“No, no, no,” Clint cut you off. Despite the fact he was in complete shock, something he was certain of was…”I wanna…I wanna be involved. If we’re in this, we’re in this together.”

You nodded after a moment. It was nice to have some support and know you’re not alone in your fear. 

Clint soon looked back to the stick before reaching over and taking your hand in his. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

You could see a small smile growing on his face, which mirrored itself on yours. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

A small laugh came from Clint’s lips before he pulled you closer into a hug, the pair of you looking at the double lines before he turned and looked to your stomach. You weren’t showing yet, but you would be soon. 

Gently, Clint lay his hand over your stomach before you placed both of your hands over his. 

“We can do this, right?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

It took a while to figure out how to tell people since they didn’t know you and Clint were together in the first place. But, one morning when Sam had woken up and found you in the kitchen, reading, whilst Clint cooked breakfast, he offered you a cup of coffee. 

Usually, you’d never turn one down. And always had it at full strength. 

Only, for the last couple of weeks, Sam hadn’t seen you with a coffee or even a beer on a Friday night. He also hadn’t seen you in the sparring ring for a while. Typically, you’d usually be against him or Clint and within seconds, you had them on the ground. That was a tactic neither of them could figure out. 

“Are you on a cleanse or something?”

“Why?” 

Clint looked over his shoulder to you, only to see your eyes focused on Sam. 

“Because you haven’t been drinking coffee or any kind of alcohol or caffeine.” Sam said before letting out a chuckle to himself as he poured himself a coffee. “Either that or you’re pregnant.”

Silence settled over the room and the moment you and Clint locked eyes, having a telepathic 

conversation between one another…Sam noticed. 

Confusion was the first thing he felt. Why on earth would you and Clint look at one another like you had a secret? 

“What? What is it?”

Clint tilted his head quickly. It was up to you. 

You nodded and turned back to Sam. 

“Actually…”

Sam put his coffee down and stepped back. “Wait, you’re…?”

“Pregnant.”

“Holy- Oh my - Holy shit.” Sam broke out in a smile before rounding the kitchen island and hugging you. “Holy shit, you’re actually- wow. Wait, who’s the-”

Then when Clint came behind you, laying a plate of food in front of you, and you looked at him, Sam took another step back. “Oh my God.”

“No-one else knows so, please, can you keep this to yourself for now?” You asked. “We’re still trying to figure out how to tell people.”

“I didn’t even know you two were, like, a thing.”

“Technically, we weren’t.”

“But you’re having a kid together?”

You nodded. “But, please, Sam, keep this to yourself for now.”

“Keep what to himself?” Bucky entered the kitchen. 

“Nothing.” Sam answered walking back to his coffee. 

Bucky, with narrowed eyes, made his way around the kitchen. His eyes barely left Sam. “Oh, come on, you can’t keep a secret to save your life.”

“I can.”

“Not with me. Took you all of five minutes to tell me that Jessica from accounting is having twins.” Bucky said before he saw a bead of sweat drip down the back of Sam’s neck as his eyes widened for a split second before looking at you. “Oh, my God. You’re pregnant.”

“How did you-”

“Told you. He can’t keep a secret from me. Also, you haven’t drunk a single ounce of coffee in, like, four weeks. So, it’s either that or you’re on a cleanse. And you would never give up coffee voluntarily.”

“Well, if you know everything, Einstein,” Sam turned to Bucky. “Who’s the dad?”

“Barton.”

You dropped your fork, finishing your mouthful before looking to Bucky with the expression of Oh, for God’s sake. How? Meanwhile, Sam seemed slightly offended and confused at the fact Bucky seemed to have the whole thing figured out. 

“What? She’s wearing his shirt.” 

You looked down and realised it was true. How had you not even noticed?

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But, you should tell people soon or else they’re gonna figure it out. Also, you might want to add more ginger to your meals.” Bucky added. “It’ll help with the morning sickness.”

“How the hell do you know all of this?” 

Bucky shrugged, sipping his own coffee. “I had to help a woman give birth in a small town in Germany. When I came back, I figured it was more likely to happen so I read a couple books. I can lend them to you, if you want.”

It was safe to say you, Clint and Sam were more confused over Bucky’s hidden history as a midwife than your and Clint’s relationship and baby. 

“So, when’s your first scan?”

“Okay, this conversation’s too weird for me. Can we please change the subject?”

“Can we see the pictures when you do?” Sam asked. “I wanna see a picture of my nephew or niece. I call ‘favourite uncle’.”

“Who says you get it?” 

“I do.” Sam told Bucky. “We all know Nat’s gonna have first dibs at Aunt. I call Uncle.”

“What about me? Or Steve?”

“Steve’s everyone’s Grandpa. He gets that title.”

Whilst the two idiots in front of you argued over the title of ‘favourite uncle’ before eventually coming to the decision that the kid will decide, Clint had come behind you, taking your empty plate from you. 

“What do you say we make a run for it? Someone will find them and ask them what they’re arguing about. Let them tell the rest of the team.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Slipping yourself from the stand, you felt Clint take your hand in his before you both made a run for it out of the kitchen, down the hall and into Clint’s bedroom. 

Miraculously, you both managed to shower and get dressed, packing a small bag before making a run for it and not being stopped or called by anyone. 

Clint drove you both out of town for a couple of hours to a small town clinic. They were small enough to know that they were away from Shield’s radar as well as the Avengers. And, with barely any people in the waiting room, there were no people trying to report news over why you and Hawkeye were in a maternity ward. 

The doctor called your name and you and Clint headed inside where you lay on the bed and began asking questions about your health and when you think you got pregnant before covering the lower half of your stomach in cold gel and began the ultrasound. 

“One thing I will say is that you have to be careful. I understand the professions you two are in, but where you can, rest. Try not to lift anything heavy over your head as it can strain your lower back,” the doctor gave you both some more advice before they moved to find the baby’s heartbeat. 

“See this, right here?” you and Clint looked at the monitor. “That’s your baby and this…” a small galloping sound from the speakers. “is your baby’s heartbeat.”

As one hand lay below your head, your other was in Clint’s hand. Swiftly, he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckle as you both watched the monitor and listened to the sound of your baby’s heartbeat. 

“Oh, my God.” It brought tears to both of your eyes. 

“I’ll get you some pictures printed off.”

“Thank you, Doc.”

“Clint,” his eyes didn’t leave the monitor until you looked at him. “That’s our baby.”

“That’s our baby.” Clint smiled back before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips before laying his arm around you, both of you looking at the monitor. 

The doctor handed you some paper towels to wipe the gel from your stomach before leaving the room for a moment to grab a couple of information pamphlets and other small things that would help you and Clint on your journey. 

By the time you got back into the car, you and Clint simply looked at the photos you had been given. From the pile, Clint tore one away and placed it in his sun visor.

The rest of the day, you and Clint drove around the small town, taking in a couple of the sights, eating at their ‘Number One Diner’ before hitting a couple of smaller stores, buying a couple of baby things. Thankfully, anyone that you ran into didn’t seem to have a clue who you or Clint were. Either that, or they simply didn’t care. That made it a lot easier to buy baby clothes and books. 

And, by the time the sun was setting over the horizon, you and Clint sat on the hood of his car, your laps covered by a checked blanket and a soda in your lap, Clint’s phone rang. 

“Who is it?”

“Nat.”

The moment Clint answered, Natasha was already speaking. 

“You’re having a baby and you left the members of Sesame Street to tell me?”

Clint turned to you, “They’ve blabbed.”

“Wow. Took longer than I thought.” You said, looking at your watch. 

“Is she with you?” Natasha asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Good, tell her I’m mad at her, too.” 

“Nat said she’s mad at you.”

“She’s mad at you, too.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find someone else to be this kid’s favourite Aunt.”

“Whoa, hey-”

“Guess we could ask Wanda?” you suggested. “Or maybe your Rookie?”

“Kate? Really?” Clint asked. “She is the closest in age to the kid. What about-”

“Hey, hey! Do not give my title away! I did not fight to save your life to have my title of favourite Aunt thrown to some Rookie.”

“You like Kate.”

“Besides the point.” Natasha brushed off. “That title stays with me.”

“What do you think? Should we let her?”

“Is she still mad at us?”

“I don’t think she can be if we give her the title.”

“Okay then,” you smiled before taking a sip of your soda. “You only get the title if you’re not mad at us.”

“Fine, hold on a sec,” in the background you heard Nat shout for Steve. “Rogers, be mad at Barton for me.”

“He threatened to take away your title?” you and Clint heard Steve laugh before the phone was passed to him. 

“Maybe.”

“Hey Clint.” Steve said. “Congrats, man. We’re all really happy for the two of you.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“Just a word of warning, though.�� Steve began. “Tony’s already started clearing a space out in the compound for a nursery so if you two thought you’d be moving out, I don’t think Tony will let you leave.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“What is it?” you asked Clint. 

“You know how we talked about finding a house?” you nodded. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Tony?”

“Yep.”

You smiled with a small chuckle. “Figures.”

Steve hung up soon after that, leaving you and Clint in your own little world for a while to watch the stars and moon settle over the land.

Over the next couple of weeks, time was spent between telling Shield and HR about what was going on and getting ready for what was to come. Hill gave you both a grilling but, off the record, she was happy for the both of you. Fury had done the same thing, fully expecting an invite to the baby shower. You had also been assigned to desk duty and advising from over Skype. 

Clint could see you were getting agitated so he pulled a couple strings to get you into teaching the new recruits. It wouldn’t be a job that would put you into danger and it would keep you busy just enough for you not to be completely bored. 

The nights you spent by Clint’s side. Each night you’d both ready a couple of the parenting books you’d bought from the small town outside the city or what Bucky had gifted. 

Neither of you had really talked about what your status was together. The nurses at the hospital had referred to Clint as your husband, something neither of you had corrected. Not that you had noticed initially. 

Even the team had questioned it at certain points, but never when you were together. 

So, as you sat beside one another, reading over the books that spoke about ‘mom’ and ‘dad’, Clint turned to you. 

“What are we?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me either.”

“Are we even meant to be something?”

“Well, we’re co-parents, right?”

“Yeah.”

A silence settled over you both for a moment before you placed a hand on your belly and spoke before looking at Clint. “We can do this, right? Be parents together?”

“Of course we can.”

“Then why do I feel so out of my depth?” you asked. 

Clint sat up, pulling you with him. “Hey, look at me. We can do this.”

“What if we screw up, Clint?”

Wiping away the small tears from your eyes, Clint gave you a smile. “Then it means we’re parents. They all screw up, right? But, if we can’t do something, we’ll just send the kid to one of their aunts or uncles. This kid has got a big family. At least we can give the jobs of Birds and the Bees to someone else.”

You laughed. “Like Nat?”

“I love her, but probably not.”

You laughed again, wiping away the tears from your eyes, your emotions coming back into check. “Yeah, probably not. We should keep Bucky off that list, too.”

“Agreed.” Clint nodded. “What about Pepper?”

“We should probably tag team her with someone. She’s a strong woman but this kid is half you, half me. If it’s not awkward to begin with, it will be eventually.”

“That’s true.”

You and Clint shared a laugh as he took your hands in his, keeping his eyes on you before he moved closer and kissed your lips. He brushed the hair from your face, your hand coming to his wrist. For a moment, he thought you were about to push him away, but instead you brought him closer. 

The months passed with pain and pleasure. 

The further you got into your pregnancy, the more the nights became restless and the pain spread across your body. However, the only thing that seemed to remain pleasurable was being able to make a start on the nursery and the fact that your morning sickness had worn off. But also, having Clint by your side, knowing you weren’t alone in your fear or excitement…that made it all a little easier. 

Natasha, with the aid of Bucky and Sam - who she sent on errands to keep them out of her way - planned the baby shower where you and Clint found out the gender of your baby and learned that Fury, Clint, Sam (by default as he and Bucky flipped a coin for which gender they guessed), Wanda and Yelena were the only ones to guess correctly. 

A baby girl. 

The moment the pink powder released from the target as Clint shot a single arrow to its centre, everyone erupted in cheers and shouts of enjoyment. 

Yelena and Sam rubbed their success in Kate and Bucky’s face, respectfully, whilst Hill handed Fury 20 bucks and Clint came to find you, hugging you tightly from behind and you looked with joy to the pink powder. 

“We’re having a girl.”

“We’re having a girl,” you confirmed with a smile. 

Eventually, your due date came…and passed. 

You were already on maternity leave, so your days passed slower than usual. Clint would come in and check on you at lunch and on his breaks. 

Your days were spent in uncomfortable pain, watching crappy movies and tv shows. Sometimes, someone from the team would come and sit with you and Sam and Bucky had taken a liking to Bake Off - it led to them sitting in the kitchen, baking sweet treats for you to try until you declared a winner. 

But, one afternoon, sitting outside with a book resting on your pregnant belly, watching the trainees run their drills on the ground, Steve came and joined you outside. 

“How are you doing, Momma?” 

You smiled as Steve stepped from the sliding door and sat at the end of where your feet were propped up on the sofa. 

“Eh,”

“That bad?”

You sighed, sitting up a little higher. “I love this kid, but I just want her out already. Come out, please.”

Steve chuckled as you held your belly and yelled in the hopes she’d hear you. 

She just kicked back. 

“As stubborn as her dad.”

“She’ll be here soon,” Steve smiled. “And you and Clint will have your hands full.”

“Can’t wait.” you said. “I like being busy. This,” you motioned around you, “I don’t like it.”

You and Steve sat and chatted for a while longer, mostly about the missions coming up and the books you had been reading. He’d leant you a couple which you had managed to finish in four days. 

But then…

You hissed in pain, holding your belly. 

“Whoa, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, just uncomfortable.”

Then the pain came again. “Ow, okay, no. That hurt. Ow!”

Steve sat up quickly, helping you as carefully as he could. “Come on, you need to get to the hospital.”

“I guess she heard me.” 

Steve laughed, and so did you - which only brought some more pain. 

“Clint, I need to call him.”

“I’ll call him on the way to the hospital.”

“He’s on the other side of town-”

Steve helped you inside, “He’ll get there. I promise.”

Then Bucky and Sam came around the corner. “Hey, are you okay?”

“She’s going into labour. Do you know where Clint put your hospital bag?”

“Bedroom, under the bed.” you told Steve who then gave the instructions to Sam and Bucky. 

“I’ll get the bag,” Sam shouted, running right before Bucky ran left. 

“I’ll bring the car around.”

“Steve, I’m scared.”

“I know, but you’re gonna be okay.”

Steve gave you a kind smile that reassured you of his promise. 

By the time you got downstairs, Sam and Bucky were rushing around like two headless chickens. Bucky hopped out of the driver’s seat and ran to the otherside, pulling the door open. Steve helped you inside before taking the keys from Bucky. 

“One of you needs to go and pick Clint up. Buck, take the bike.”

“On it.”

“Sam, go and find Natasha.” Steve commanded. “Let her and the others know what’s happening.”

“Steve!” 

“Okay, go.”

Steve jumped into the driver's seat before pulling out of the driveway and towards the hospital. On the way, he pressed a couple of buttons on the monitor inside the car, calling Clint. 

“Clint, listen to me, Bucky’s on his way to you.” Steve explained. 

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m going into labour! Ow, crap.”

“Oh, shit.”

“We’re on our way to the hospital now, just meet us there.”

“Okay,”

In the background, you heard the roaring of Bucky’s motorbike. He had to have driven through multiple red lights. 

“He’s here now. Honey? It’s gonna be okay.”

“Just get here, please. I’m not doing this without you. Argh, fuck.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Clint!” Bucky shouted. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” you replied. “Just get here.”

“Clint we’re pulling in now,”

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

“Barton!”

As you were rolled into the labour suite, Steve kept watch for Clint before he came barrelling around the corner, not fully aware of where he was going. 

“Barton!”

Clint followed Steve’s voice in a circle until he finally spotted him and ran down the hall to your room. 

“How is she? Is she okay? Is the baby okay? What did the nurses say? Is everything-”

Steve took Clint by his shoulders. “Everything’s okay. They’ve just broken her waters so she’ll be giving birth soon enough. I’ll keep the others out here.”

“Thanks, and thank you, Steve.”

“No need,” Steve smiled. “Now go to her.”

Clint gave a final smile before entering the room and rushing over to you. And you couldn’t have held him tighter. 

“I’m scared, Clint.” you told him as the midwife came in and told you you were ready to give birth. 

“I know, baby. So am I, but you’ve got this, okay? Hey, look at me.” you looked at him as he held onto your hand. “You’ve got this. I love you,”

“I love you, too.”

It was only now that you realised today, of all days, was the first time you’d both told one another the truth of your feelings towards each other. 

Clint pressed a kiss to your lips. “Stay with me?”

He nodded. “Always.”

“Okay, dad, help her up.” the midwife called your name. “When I tell you to push, give me all the strength you can muster, okay?”

You hummed nervously. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you wanted her to stay inside, for a little while longer. 

Clint held your hand the whole way through, pushing the stray hairs from your face and holding his arm across your back for support as you pushed and pushed and pushed until finally a cry rang out throughout the room. 

“You did it, mom. A beautiful baby girl.”

“You hear that?” Clint looked at you, smiling as he pushed the last couple of hairs from your face. “You did it, momma. She’s here.”

“She’s here? Is she okay?”

Clint looked over to the nurses and midwives measuring, cleaning and weighing your baby girl. “Yeah, yeah. They’re just cleaning her off.”

Clint had tears in his eyes as he looked back at you, pressing a kiss to your head and your lips. “You did it.”

Moments later, you were handed your baby girl wrapped in the blanket you and Clint had bought her all the way back when you had your first scan. 

Feeling her skin against yours, you felt your heart explode. 

Clint didn’t leave either of your sides once, looking down to his baby girl and the love of his life. 

“I love you, and I love her.”

“She’s so small.” 

A few hours later, you and Clint were sitting in a clean hospital bed, your baby girl in his arms as she slept. 

Wanda was the first to enter, Sam and Kate quickly followed behind before Bucky, Natasha and Steve followed suit. 

“Hey, can we come in?”

“Yeah, come on in, guys.”

“Hey, honey, how you feeling?” Wanda asked you, walking over. 

“Tired.”

“Can I see her?”

Clint carefully handed your daughter over to Wanda where Sam and Bucky stood around her. “She’s beautiful.” was the main repeated comment between the three of them. “And strong, too.”

“She gets that from her mom,” Clint smiled at you before looking towards Kate. 

“I brought you a couple things,” Kate told both you and Clint. “Figured everyone will be thinking about the baby, they’ll forget about you - and you’d probably forget about yourselves. So, your usual from Benny’s.” You praised Kate as a saint as she handed you the familiar paper bag. “Plus, a bag filled with every post-birth thing you could possibly need. Wendy has a Nurse-friend who has had, like, a gazillion kids, so she knows all the tricks of the trade.”

You smiled, hugging Kate. “Thank you.”

“Oh, and, Clint,” Kate handed him. “This is more for the baby, but I figured you could hold onto it for her until she grows up.”

Inside was a kid’s bow and arrow with an old, small carving in the top. 

K.B

And then underneath it, 

E.B

“Figured it should be passed down to the next generation of Hawkeyes,” 

Clint tried his best to keep his emotions in check as he smiled at the meaning of this gift. 

The bow and arrow that had once belonged to Kate now belonged to his daughter and when she was old enough, she could learn to shoot just like her dad. 

“Thank you, Kate. Really. This means…a lot.”

You rubbed your hand over his forearm before taking his hand in yours. 

After an hour, and lots of pictures, everyone else headed home and you and Clint were left with you baby girl, fast asleep in the hospital cot. 

“Our very own baby Hawkeye.” you smiled, leaning on Clint’s chest as his hand rested on the side of the cot, his eyes only leaving his daughter to look at you. 

“I never thought I could be this scared and happy at the same time.”

“Ditto.”

“We can do this, right?” Clint asked you. 

“She’s here now, we don’t have much of a choice.”

Clint chuckled and looked back at his daughter. “True. God, I can’t believe she’s here.”

“I know,” you smiled. 

Clint kissed the top of your head, holding you closer before looking at you. “I love you.”

You looked up to him and nodded. “I love you, too.”

Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before leaning his head against yours. 

“I know this is nearly 2 years, too late, but…do you want to get dinner with me tomorrow?”

You chuckled, smiling. “I’d love to.”

“Great, I’ll meet you here, 6 o’clock, Benny’s included? I’ll be the one sitting beside you.” 

Laying your arm over his stomach and leaning in closer, still smiling, you replied; “I can’t wait.”

Smiling, you could hear the thrill come from Clint’s heart inside his chest before he placed another kiss on your head and you both kept your eyes on your daughter. 

Your baby Hawkeye, Evelyn Natasha Barton.

[acexsmhking]

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝑷𝒔𝒚𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒚.ೃ࿐

‘(𝒏.) 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍’

❝ 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗿, 𝗟𝗼𝗵𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗽𝗶𝘁𝘆. 𝗛𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀. ❞ — II Capitano

Hello! I’m Ace.

I go by She/They! I’m a relatively new writer, looking to share my ideas and thoughts with those around me and make friends.

I write for a number of fandoms (listed below) but do ask for anything even if it’s not listed, I am always happy to learn and grow!

I write mainly for; POC, Chubby readers. While I myself am AFAB and most of my thoughts are on my own bodily anatomy I include and write for multiple others such as GN, Trans, and Fluid. Other races, body types are also more than welcome. I aim to build a welcoming and loving community for the minorities of fandoms

Requests: Closed!

Make sure you specify what xReader gender you want! Or I will assume AFAB!

My requests are open whenever unless stated otherwise, I will make sure to make public announcements when I close my asks

I ask that you strictly follow my rules, read them very carefully. However if you have more specific questions please feel free to ask

I write Fictions, Head-canons, Series, Images, etc. Everything is organized in the Masterlist. However if you wish to ask me questions, have conversations, or share cute animal pics feel free!

YES!

Can ask for fandoms not listed

Character x Character

Character x OC

Kinks (unless stated in “NO!”)

LGBT+

Mental Health

Mentions of Gore

Sexual Content 18+

Dark Themes (unless stated in “NO!”)

NO!

Rape

Pedophilia

“Aged up” (unless canonical)

NO kinks: scat, piss, age-play, race-play

Character OCs being hateful

*̩̩̥͙ -•̩̩͙-ˏˋ⋆𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙- *̩̩̥͙

Creepypasta

Genshin Impact

Transformers

Attack on Titan

Call of Duty

DComics

Aliens v Predator (AVP)

Demon Slayer

❧ please let me know if anyone has any further questions! If you do not see a link on anything it is because I am still working on it! I hope we can all have fun together!

btw, I use picsart for all my banners/dividers incase anyone wanted to know ;p

— Ace

[sonicblueartist]

I am trying to draw

I am trying a small comic

I am trying

I don't know what I am doing

I am gonna let you guys have another sneak peek--

[suusoh]

okay girl I don't even know what you're on because recent johan liebert fans have been spoiled with the gift of actually having so much to read in the johan liebert x reader tags. Before you I swear to god everything was SO DRY AND EMPTY. We have talented authors and fics of course which we eat up in seconds, but its so few and far between that it feels like a dead fandom sometimes. The second you came in it feels like a dam of water exploding over a dessert.

ANNNOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

I WAS JUST KIDDING ON THAT POST BECAUSE I JUST FOUND IT FUNNY BUT NOW I LEGIT DON'T HAVE ANY WORDS IM SOO ????? FHDSKAFHJKASHF FFH MMNN ?/ ?? FHSN H GGGG2382392 FDFA34??????????? FHADHFHFHHHFJDAKFAHJFHAFH NCNDMSNF,MC,MSDFH653742I8746783264HFDSKFBJASLKFJKSCMMMAMAMAMA8F8888123897198381NDSFHJKASHFAR8920NFKLASN @#$$#%^^&%

[whiskers-my-beloved]

Welcome to page 15 ! This time Wesker and the reader get ready to wombo combo the Ivan Tyrants. Kind akward to meet different Tyrants only for them to be pretty mindless. Just following orders and all.

I also used screenshots of the game as backgrounds here. Makes it easier for me to draw this whole thing ! Sorta tricky to get the right shot. Had to edit the back a good bit to get it to look right to me atlast

Also totally not the Tyrant reader having to get a hold of themself not to get super excited over the little praise Wesker gave them ! Can't fold now since a mission is on the line !

(English is not my mother tongue so please excuse any mistakes)

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[genericpuff]

an epitaph

[wtl-archive]

What could possibly make you think anyone would want to see this

is. is this supposed to be... anon hate?

A few thousand or so are interested in the comic at least. about 8k on tiktok and 1k on tapas *shrug*. maybe you should read it yourself, it's pretty good! :3

[ferncloud]

hmm i wonder if tumblr user ferncloud likes ferncloud...

/.\ MAYBE...