#just thinking of like the party going on patrols

[writingwisterias]

how would eras of leon respond to jealousy/yearning with sex?

Hi Anon!

Thanks for the request...I had a lot of fun thinking about this one 👀

Ok ok I'm cracking down on requests! I promise I needed a day to recover from work 💗

Warnings: NSFW, Yearning, Jealousy, Sexual Tension, MNDI

GN!Reader

RE2:

Just for something different, I'm doing a no Apocalypse AU for this one

You sit opposite him, your desks are connected. You were always so kind to him compared to the other officers

Both of you always get along well when you are paired for patrol etc

But he's not the only one that has eyes on you, every other officer seems to as well

He hates feeling jealous that the other officers are talking to you, touching you as they past and you are entertaining them?

There's a staff party and everyone is buying you drinks and chatting, he barely has a chance to speak to you. After all you are his only friend

What he didn't know is you are frustrated from all the attention and you are just trying to get to Leon

When you finally reach him, he's in a mood and it doesn't take long for you to realize hes jealous.

Maybes it's the drinks in your system or the small crush you have on him bubbling in your chest. But you kiss him

He's shocked at first, but recovers fast. His lips are desperate

Spots all the officers back off when he kisses you, so then his touch becomes possessive claiming you as his.

He'll make sure he's the only one you think about when you both leave and he takes you home. 👀

RE4R:

He's touched starved so anyone even approaches you with the intention of sex he's immediately jealous

He's confident enough that you won't go for someone else, even if you aren't exclusive but he'll be pissed off for a while

His jealous would come out in the form of silence,

like he's giving you the silence treatment until you figure out what's wrong and fix it

I think he would probably insert himself into the situation but more of him being a presence there than actually joining in...again silent treatment.

If you don't give him attention he's very heavy with eye contact, constantly trying to get you in his eyeline so he can watch you

Infinite darkness:

The most verbal about being jealous,

like he will pull you away and probably whisper to you how you are making him jealous

Longer touches as well, on your hip or lower back..he's making sure you notice it's there

I think he'll just constantly remind you of his presence until you eventually cave

To make him jealous it would be entertaining other people in an awkward conversation, like if someones asking you to dinner or whatever and your reply is "I'll have a look at my schedule" or "let me get back to you"

You probably aren't going to do either of those things but Leon doesn't like it, he'll make sure your schedule is full of him

Damnation:

I like the idea that he doesn't care enough to get jealous, like if you don't want him he will accept defeat and it will add to the list of other things wrong with his life

But he won't hide the fact he wants you

I imagine it's a situation where he's rough with everyone but you

The rest of his department constantly digs at him for this, it makes you blush when you finally notice it

Heavy eye contact on you, like constantly watching what you are doing around the office etc

It's when you are on a mission together that you finally cave and give him what he wants, and you definitely don't regret it

RE6:

I think he would be in the same boat as damnation where he doesn't really get jealous but he does show that he wants you

With his intense scenes with Ada as well he would make it even more prominent that he wants you

Whenever it's to show Ada that he's moved on or it's to show you that he still wants you

That's up to you

But he's going to make it known that there's nothing to worry about, he's smart enough to understand how him caring for Ada might seem he's still hung up on her

Vendetta:

I like the idea of you being a bartender at the bar he constantly visits

He enjoys your attention and sympathy, often having long chats about anything but his work

As soon as someone needs you though or you turn to serve another customer he's instantly jealous

You want him too, it's obvious. But not drunk and in the state of mind he's in

You understand that he would be good with that commitment and probably a loving partner but he needs to heal first

You put up with his drunken exclamations how he loves you and wants you, his constant staring and snarling at other customers

It's cute that he wants you that badly but until he sobers up and shows some signs of self improvement you won't do it

It does increase the heat from him, but he'll be thankful when he does eventually get sober

Death Island:

Super super jealous

Like you are an angel in his eyes why are you hanging out with someone else?

Why are you talking to one of his co workers? You don't need to entertain that asshole you are his

You aren't actually though, not yet

Both of you tip toeing on this line of friends and lovers

A game of seeing who caves first

He does, pressing you into a kiss that you can't forget. It was rushed after he had a close call with the virus.

Yet it leaves you logging for more, he's just waiting until you finally admit it to him

[ktkat99]

Anytime Damian is upset with Alfred for whatever reason, he does thing that he THINKS normal rebellious kids do.

Dick- Damian, what are you doing

Damian, not even looking up- Pennyworth grounded me from patrol until I've recovered. Therefore, I am playing my DS on the couch all day.

Dick- Wow. Really sticking it to the man, aren't you?

Damian- I could be reading a book right now. Something that could benefit my future. But nooooo. I'm acting out.

Jason- Dude, just stop

Damian- Why? We all know his favorite part of dinner preparation is chopping the vegetables. Imagine his face when he finds that everything has already been diced to perfection?

Jason- ... I'm going to have to teach you how to egg houses, aren't I?

*Taylor Swift playing over the speakers throughout the entire manor*

Bruce- Alfred, what's with the music?

Alfred- Master Damian intends to annoy me into letting him patrol tonight.

Bruce- And you... don't like Taylor Swift?

Alfred- He believes that we all enjoy Bach as much as he does.

Alfred- Master Dick is currently convincing his other siblings to take the opportunity to throw a dance party

[smilesheartshugs]

One trop I can’t get enough of is Bart being Wally and Dick’s kid from the future. There arnt enough fics for this trope! Should I write some? Probably, but I don’t have the creative juices to write it.

But like I want Wally and Dick to find out Bart is their kid in the most absolute random way possible

Game night: Bart doesn’t think before calling Wally dad after doing something that Bart always saw durning family game nights but he doesn’t notice

Going to get ice cream: “dad you know I always get [insert ice cream flavors here that’s like ten scoops tall with an ungodly amount of toppings and sauces]” leaving Dick confused and just getting what he would normally get Wally. This is how Bart finds out his go to ice cream use to be Wally’s go to

Gotham patrol/ party: Batman notices that impulse move a little bit to much like a bat to be a coincidence. Nightwing is off in his own little bubble so doesn’t notice, Red Robin for some reason just never questions why Impulse would call him and superboy his uncles. (Let face it Tim was running on -4 hours of sleep when Bart called him uncles) and it’s not until years later when there was like a really big holiday party with all of the justice league, titans, and other hero teams and Bart just brings presents labeled for Dad, for Pa, and other family titles instead of anyone’s actual names and that’s how they find out while Bart was under the assumption that they already knew, it’s not like he was hiding it!

To many ideas and not enough writing juice

[starboye]

pairing: dick grayson x male reader

request: Dick Grayson fucking his ex Twink boyfriend reader with a bubble butt because he was jealous that reader was getting to close to another random hero and he wants the reader back

warnings: smut, cursing, rough sex, slut shaming, degradation, ass slapping, creampie, unprotected sex, hair pulling

directors note: this has been in the drafts for 5 months so i decided to dust it off finally

you know dick he's always thinking with his... well dick, getting jealous over an innocent little friendship between you and superboy even though you both aren't dating, you promise him it was nothing to try and get him off your back but no he just has to prove the point doesn't he

"fuck that i know what i saw y/n, he wanted you so bad i can tell" dick grunts as he thrusts into you harder and harder leaving you a slight mumbling mess in his pillows before he grabs a fistful of your hair and lifts your head "we aren't even dating dick" you choke up but he's quick to knock some sense back in you, his cock slamming right against your gummy walls making you wail out.

"c'mon now you don't believe that, we're just taking a break" dick chuckles, he never dick take the breakup well, you heard from raven that he was going on more frequent night patrols and picking fights with just about anyone after you guys separated "no we ended things" you sternly reply but dick just shoves your face back in the pillows and continues destroying your guts.

"do you think that super bitch could even fuck you like i do" dick asks, his eyes fixated on how you take him balls deep with every thrust, sucking him back in and swallowing him whole "think he knows all your sensitive spots or your kinks" he questions leaning down to kiss your neck while his fingers crept over your ass, squeezing you plush skin as his thrusts became languid hip movements.

he knew the kind of slut you were, you needed him and his cock, back when you and him were dating you could barely go a day without begging to have his cock deep inside you and it seems now is no different, the moment dick stop fucking you you're moaning and whining for him to put it back in, making him chuckle "still the same old slut huh".

"please i dont care just put it back in" you whine rutting your ass onto him for just a bit of friction, after a while of hearing you whine his name dick finally gives in and slips back in, feeling you clench around him like you didn't want him to ever leave you empty again "want daddy to fill this slutty ass up like the good old times" dick asks slapping your ass as you moaned out continuous yes's.

one more good thrust and he was emptying his thick load into you while tightly gripping your hips, your hands tangling themselves in his sheets as you caught your breath "we've gotta stop doing this" dick chuckles laying down next you "this is the last time" you huff getting up and putting on your pants "didn't you say that at the halloween party, and thanksgiving, and two nights ago, you know you cant stay away from all this" he snaps back "well then i guess i'll go see if superboy can rival all that" you smirk before walking out leaving dick fuming.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | Masterpost (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆status: completed

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others.

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆total word count: 218.5k (lmao my fingers slipped)

☆a/n: I got the idea for this fic just a little over a year ago, following a power outage that lasted for a few days where I live and Jungkook's live where he kept coming back with different outfits (the white dress shirt hit me right in the gut). It took me a long time to write, as I was working on multiple other projects at the same time, but I am so so happy to be ready to share this baby with you guys <3

☆Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing this monster <3 (and for all your encouragement and support)

☆And a special thank you to @wintaerbaer and @btsborahaee for encouraging me and supporting me whenever I screamed to you about this fic

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆discord server link here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

➳Teaser (Jungkook pov): the day he met you (1.1k)

You fucking touch her, you're dead.

➳Chapter one: when the Incident happens (11.8k)

Jungkook is Tae's best friend.

➳Chapter two: when Jungkook teases you (10.2k)

You know I hate that nickname.

➳Chapter three: when Valentine's Day happens (13.1k)

You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.

➳Chapter four: when you and Jeon Jungkook clash (9.5k)

I was just going to say that we should keep this between us.

➳Chapter five: when you have to go back to reality (12.1k)

We just pretend nothing happened, no?

➳Chapter six: when Jungkook hosts his friends over (9.6k)

I really want to kiss you right now.

➳Chapter seven: when doubt makes you question everything (15k)

Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?

➳Chapter eight: when secrets are unveiled in New York (13.5k)

I want you.

➳Chapter nine: when a party makes Jungkook jealous (11.2k)

You make me insane.

➳Chapter ten: when time slips through your fingers (10.1k)

I don’t want to lose you, peach.

➳Chapter eleven: when Jungkook visits Taehyung in Paris (8.4k)

Can’t wait for you to be back.

➳Chapter twelve: when it breaks (7.3k)

I can’t be with you.

➳Chapter thirteen: when it's too late (8.9k)

I have to talk to him.

➳Chapter fourteen: when the truth comes out (12.2k)

We never told each other how we felt.

➳Chapter fifteen: when you find your way back to Jungkook (7.4k)

You came?

➳Chapter sixteen: when Jungkook takes you out on a date (8.9k)

I think I was waiting for you my whole life.

➳Chapter seventeen: when forever awaits you (9k)

Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.

Drabbles in Jungkook's pov (might add more as the story goes on)

➳Chapter 1.5: the first party (1.6k)

Then why are you bringing him home, peach?

➳Chapter 3.5: Valentine's Day (1.1k)

We should have hung out like this before.

➳Chapter 4.5: a walk through campus (852)

You love it, peach.

➳Chapter 5.5: the return to reality (2k)

You wanted to talk?

➳Chapter 6.5: hosting his friends at the apartment (4.4k)

What the fuck is wrong with you?

➳Chapter 7.5: when he realizes (2.5k)

Isn't she Taehyung's sister?

➳Chapter 8.5: the engagement party (6.6k)

Have fun while it lasts.

➳Chapter 9.5: jealous jungkook (3k)

Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?

➳Chapter 10.5: the morning before Paris (1.7k)

I promise I'll come back to you and make it work.

➳Chapter 11.5: the kiss (1.2k)

Just this once.

➳Chapter 12.5: after losing you (4.6k)

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

➳Chapter 13.5: returning home (4k)

What am I supposed to do?

➳ Chapter 14.5: losing you again (3k)

I can't believe you've been wearing the necklace

➳Chapter 15.5: a conversation with Taehyung, and his reunion with you (2.6k)

It’s never been like that with her.

☆☆☆☆☆

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x F! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, dry humping, nipple play Summary: Eddie turns up at your house one night and in need of help so you show him how far you're willing to go to help out your closest friend. WC:4K

For the most part you were indifferent towards Jeff Parker. Neither of you ran in the same circles and he was usually the type to keep his head down but add a little alcohol to the equation and the guy turns into a regular Jay Gatsby — all over indulgent and the life of the party. You just wish that party wasn't taking place 15 feet away from your bedroom window.

It was all the drunken hollering and the thumping music that kept you up that night, bone-tired after pulling double shifts at work. It was the police sirens blaring an hour later that ripped you out of a dream just as you were finally able to doze off with your head buried beneath your pillow. And it was the tapping on your bedroom window that came ten minutes later that made you spring up and nearly shoot out of your own skin.

"Eddie! what the hell?", you whisper shout into the darkness of your bedroom, recognizing his shaggy haired silhouette crouched behind the glass and backlit by nearby streetlamps.

You figured he must have climbed up the lattice to get up onto your roof as he begins to point urgently at the lock on your window, mouthing at you to let him in.

Kicking off your covers, you quickly make your way over to the window and unlock it for him, pulling it open and stepping aside to allow him to barrel roll into your room and heave a heavy sigh of relief.

Sprawled out on your carpeted bedroom floor, Eddie pants the exertion away and you leave him there to rest, connecting the dots yourself.

"I told you to stop dealing at parties", you deadpan, shaking your head in that world weary way you often slip into when it comes to Eddie but all that seems to do is trigger a grin that makes him look suspiciously chipper.

"Got to make a living don't I?", he replies from the floor, his hair all wild and fanned out in an unruly halo of frizz and curls.

It's far too late at night for you to be bothered enough to get into it with Eddie so you simply roll your eyes at him instead, making sure to shut your window to keep the chilly night air from seeping into your warm, cozy room.

The music that'd been playing next door has finally been silenced, you're pleased to notice but as you look out the window you see that the patrol car responsible for making Eddie and several other partygoers disperse and hightail it out of there remains parked in front of Jeff's house.

"I'll make a move once the fuzz's gone. I'm parked a couple blocks away so it should be fine", Eddie explains casually, able to anticipate your concern but you keep your eyes fixed on the car and its flashing lights for a moment longer, chewing on your bottom lip.

The thing was, in a town where almost everyone had it out for your best friend, you weren't too fond of the idea of him driving home at this time of night with his pockets stuffed with illicit party favours. Hell, Eddie often gets pulled over in the middle of the day by asshole officers hoping to book him on a possession charge. And since the trailer park isn't exactly closeby, the likelihood of him running into another cop and getting pulled over seems way too high for your liking.

The thought of it alone makes your stomach plummet. You just didn't want to see your closest friend getting into any kind of trouble. Especially if you could do something to help prevent it.

Turning away from your window, you eye Eddie intently while he glances up at you from where he's still laid out on his back, his breathing even now that he's managed to catch his breath.

"I think you should stay the night. It'll be safer that way", you tell him plainly.

Though most of your room is draped in darkness, Eddie's lit up in a column of orange light that pours in through your window so it's easy for you to make out the way his eyebrows rise up and disappear behind his bangs, his eyes growing wider too as he props himself up on his elbows to look at you.

"Y' sure?", he asks and you can feel him studying your face closely, looking for any signs of doubt or hesitation.

You know he'll find none though. Sure, this is all very spur of the moment stuff but you have no reservations about having Eddie stay over. Exactly the opposite.

"Yeah. But be quiet, okay? My whole family's asleep", you tell him as he begins to pick himself up off the floor, face beaming as he grins at you and steps closer to where you're standing.

"Ya big softie. All worried about me, huh?", he posits, tipping his head to the side in a way that at any other time, you might have considered cute. Right now however, all he's managed to conjure is annoyance given how little sleep you've had tonight.

So you narrow your eyes at him, the rest of your expression flat as he makes the mistake of bringing his face closer to yours, giving you the opportunity to reach out and pinch his earlobe between your thumb and forefinger, twisting the soft skin until his teasing grin deflates and he throws up his hands in surrender.

"Fuck, uncle, uncle!", he calls out while keeping his voice as low as possible, face pinched in pain and looking all kinds of helpless before you decide to let go with a pleased scoff, a small smirk playing on your lips too.

Eddie rubs a hand over his newly freed ear, his gaze wandering away from your eyes, seemingly sizing you up before he takes a step back, no longer within your reach.

"By the way...", he utters cautiously, his gaze returning to your face when another smile curves his lips.

"Nice get up".

Confused, you take a look at yourself, your face turning warm as you tug down on the hem of your oversized t-shirt, hoping in vain that Eddie hadn't caught a glimpse of the panties you've got on underneath when he was down on the floor.

Though he doesn't confirm it, the look on his face says it all — that overly pleased smirk and that telltale glint lighting up his deep brown eyes. It irks you for just a moment before you surrender with a sigh.

"Eddie, I'm too exhausted for this. Please, can we skip the teasing and just go to sleep?"

A look of vague disappointment flashes over Eddie's face when you're able to quickly brush aside your momentary embarrassment, padding over to your side of the bed, no longer concerned with how much of your bare thighs might be on display before you pull back the covers and get in.

"C'mon, get in already", you urge him to join you as you motion to the vacant space on the left side of your bed, fighting off a yawn in the process because your eyelids are starting to feel heavy again.

It's Eddie who looks a little rattled now as he eyes your bed, his fingers fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket with restless uncertainty before he rids himself of it, setting it on your desk chair before he bends down to begin unlacing his shoes in the dark.

You hear him struggle while he's crouched down, whispers of 'shit', 'fuck' and 'god fucking damnit' said loud enough for you to hear while you giggle at him, feeling a bit more at ease now that you're reminded of the kind of dork Eddie is at his core — sharing a bed should be no problem.

You've already turned over, your back to Eddie and your cheek resting on your pillow by the time you feel him slide in under the covers next to you, mattress dipping under his weight.

"I'll take off before your folks get up, I promise", he says to you and you hum back a sleepy 'okay' in reply, nuzzling into your pillow.

With that out of the way and both of you settled in bed, you thought that would be the end of it until next morning but sleep doesn't come as quickly as you would like.

For the next couple of minutes you can feel him readjusting beside you, tossing and turning and you already know why. In the interest of getting back to sleep you interrupt him. "Eds, just take them off already", you mumble over your shoulder at him, causing him to freeze.

"You want me down to my underwear?", he whispers back at you and though your back's still to him you can feel the incredulous expression he's got on his face as his eyes bore into the back of your head.

"It's fine. I'm in mine too", you tell him with a seemingly unbothered huff though if he'd had his palm pressed to your chest and just above your heart he'd know you're nowhere near as calm as you make yourself out to be.

A moment of silence elapses before he finally answers.

"Mkay"

You feel him move around, catching the sound of his zipper being pulled down before he's shucking his tight jeans off, relief apparent in his tone when he settles back in bed now that he's shed the tight denim.

"Night then", he whispers to you as you do your best to stifle the warmth swirling in your belly.

"Night", you answer, eventually drifting off to sleep at last.

~

"Shit shit shit shit shit"

It's the first thing you hear when you begin to wake up, blinking several times to clear your blurry vision before you can take a look at your alarm clock.

6.30AM. The sun's just beginning to rise and you grumble under your breath as you turn over to face Eddie, figuring now's the best time for him to make his way home.

"What the hell?"

You squint at the boy who appears several shades paler than usual, his eyes all large, looking like some kind of cornered animal with a pillow shoved over his lap.

"Um, are you okay?", you sit up in bed, your back against the headboard just like Eddie's.

His eyes dart nervously all over the room, seemingly preferring to focus them anywhere else besides on you and that only leaves you feeling even more confused.

"Okay so- the thing is...I can't exactly leave right now", he mumbles sheepishly to you, the corner of his left eye pinching into a slight twitch.

"Why? are you okay?", you ask, yet to catch on as to what seems to be troubling him.

He looks positively torn with his teeth worrying his bottom lip and a light sweat forming at his temple. "Fuck. Okay. Please don't hate me. It's just that— I have no control over it, okay? it just happens sometimes in the mornings, you know? and- and I...oh god you think I'm some kind of perv don't you?"

You can only blink at Eddie as he brings both hands up to cover his eyes, his neck stretched taught as he leans his head back until it thuds softly against your wall, letting out a defeated sigh.

Looking down at the pillow placed over his lap, you're finally able to guess what the problem is, your belly swirling with a familiar flash of warmth again, same as when you listened to him taking his jeans off last night.

"Oh...well, I don't think you're a perv. It's uh, natural? you can't help it", you tell him as calmly as you can manage, wanting him to feel better by lightening the weight of shame and guilt he's currently shouldering.

Hands still on his face, he parts his fingers enough for him to peek at you from between them. "So you're not mad?", he whispers, watching you closely to gauge your reaction.

You shake your head softly, trying your best not to let your eyes drop back to the pillow in his lap like you might be able to see right through it. You want to see right through it. Badly.

"I'm not mad Eds. I promise".

With another deep sigh, he seems to be more at ease now that he knows that he hasn't upset you, letting his arms flop down at his sides.

"I don't know what to do" he whispers and you can hear how torn he is over the whole situation as you catch the helpless little quaver to his tone.

"What do you usually do?, you ask, your thoughts all frazzled and crowding your head way too quickly than you can manage to comprehend them.

Eddie says nothing, turning to face you with a pointed look, quirking an eyebrow up high at you.

"Right.. dumb question. sorry", you admit.

A few beats of silence commence as both of your minds work, passing over bad idea after bad idea before you turn to back to Eddie again.

"I mean, you could just use my—"

"I can't just jerk off in your bathroom with you sitting here", he stops you quickly and firmly though not unkindly, making you realize that no matter what you try to come up with, he's probably already thought of it first.

"Eddie we have to do something about it", you maintain, sparing a glance at your alarm clock as it reminds you that he's only got a limited amount of time left to leave before he risks getting caught by your family or a neighbor seeing him clamber out your window.

You think about it long and hard, one particular thought echoing louder than the rest in your mind. You try to will it away but it only takes up more space in your head until it's all you can think about, taking in a big breath before you decide to share it with Eddie.

"If you want, I could help you", you tell him, nervously picking at your fingers in your lap.

"...What do you mean?", he asks, looking at you suspiciously.

You shrug. "Y' could grind on me".

There's a pause that seems to drag on much longer than you would have liked, both of you staring into each others eyes, unblinking.

"I can't do that — feels like I'd be taking advantage of you or something", he finally breaks the silence, making you feel somewhat wounded that he'd turned your offer down even though you know he's only trying to be a decent friend. You wish he'd give it a rest.

"Would it help if I took over?", you offer next, steeling yourself in the case of him turning you down once more.

"Sweetheart...please don't tell me you're just fucking with me."

"I'm not I promise", you answer firmly.

"I...are you sure? I mean really 100% sure?", he asks again.

You can't help but roll your eyes at him, slipping your legs out from under the covers to straddle Eddie's thighs all while his jaw falls slack at the sight and feeling of you on top of him, your fingers curling around the pillow still resting on his lap.

"I'm sure. Are you?", you ask him before proceeding though if you were to guess, you could read the answer off his face with ease.

"I...yeah", he squeaks, eyes all big and round like he's in awe of the way you've taken the lead.

"Okay then. Let me get rid of this."

You toss the pillow aside to the spot you'd formerly occupied, gulping down the lump in your throat with some difficulty when you set your eyes on the tent in his striped boxers. The way it strains against his underwear, it's easy to guess he's both thick and lengthy under that thin veil of cotton and the more you look at it the more it feels like the room is starting to tilt and spin.

It's the kind of thing you've thought about in secret a fair amount, you and your best friend doing things that you wouldn't ordinarily do with someone who was just your friend. You pull yourself closer to him, laying your hands on his shoulders as you balance your core over his bulge, carefully lowering yourself until you're pressed up right against his clothed cock. Both of you release a shaky breath at the feeling, him, because you feel so warm and soft and you, because he feels so warm and firm.

"Put your hands on my hips", you tell him next, liking the way his cheeks pink up in response as he places them on you gently, sending a wave of goosebumps all along your body.

You start slow, grinding yourself on the ridge of his cock, unable to help the way your pussy flutters as you drag it up near Eddie's tip and back down close to his balls, working your way up to a simple rhythm.

"How's that? is it good?" you ask, making sure to check in with him.

"Shit yeah that's...that's good. Keep going", Eddie starts to firm up his grasp on you, guiding you, encouraging you to pick up the pace, all the while you try to keep secret the way your stomach tightens up with so much heat, your pussy dripping plenty with slick.

"Eddie..."

"Yeah?"

"What are you thinking about?", you ask him as you notice the the way his brows have begun to knit together, the same way they get when he's concentrating on nailing a solo on stage.

"I don't think I should uh answer that", he answers cautiously, disappointment making your lips push out into a little pout.

"Please. I wanna know", you ask gently, melting his resolve with your pleading eyes

"...M' thinking about your tits", he grits out, looking like he ought to be ashamed about it. You figure you have a way to fix that.

"Do you want to see them? would that um, help?"

Your offer hangs in the air for a few seconds as you finally manage to catch your clit the right way along Eddie's clothed cock, your toes curling while pleasure blooms inside your bones.

You no longer make a strong effort to hide the way that humping his cock is making you feel either, that it's not just him who's getting off here and maybe that's why Eddie manages to convince himself that it's okay to take this next step with you.

"I want to see them — yeah", he manages to croak out, his fingers twitching with so much excitement around your hips. He's thought about it too — the two of you like this. How could he not? when you're the only one who's ever cared. When you look the way you do. When you're soaking through your underwear and his with your nipples already hard as they show through your shirt.

How could he not want you?

With Eddie giving you the green light, you take your hands off of his shoulders and pick up the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and off as you toss it behind you, uncaring of where it might land.

"Oh my god."

To you it might have felt like a quick undressing but for Eddie the world slows down to a crawl. He sees it all; the subtle way your breasts bounce and shift with your movements, the way they slope and rest on your chest, rising and falling with every breath and the way your perky nipples react to the cold air in your room, pebbling before his eyes.

"You can touch them if you want", you notice the way he's looking at them, feeling his cock jump under you.

"Christ, you're trying to kill me", he answers all hoarse.

To you, there's no greater compliment, your smile widening into a grin. Carefully, you guide him this time, prying his hands away from your hips and encourage him to cup his hands over your tits instead, moaning when he begins to press into the soft flesh, squeezing and massaging them.

"That feels good", you whisper, hips still working as you drag your drenched clit along his cock. "God, Eddie I've— I've wanted this for so long", you sigh dreamily, the truth spilling out much faster than you can try to swallow it all back down, all because you're so weak for the way those big, wide cinnamon eyes of his are staring back at you.

Your core's all sticky now, panties practically pasted to your skin in that messy way that usually has you eager to peel them off. Though as much as you'd like for the both of you to rid yourselves of all the tacky cotton between you, to be completely bare with each other, you don't want to mess up the rhythm you've fallen into, your clit pulsing and throbbing as you ride Eddie's lap.

"Honey... are you telling me that we could have been doing this from the start?", he asks, slightly anguished. He continues to gently pulling and pinching at your nipples while he keeps his eyes locked on yours, hushed grunts and groans falling from his parted lips.

Your hips are moving faster now, bed squeaking beneath you both, not that you care about your family hearing it — not right now — not when you're so close.

"I— I guess. Yeah", you gasp out when he pinches your right nipple, his left hand falling back down to your hip to guide you.

"You know how many times I've thought of you like this? how many times I've had to picture you on top of me just to get me through the day?, he asks, pulling and pushing you along his length with fervor.

"Why didn't you say anything?", you whine back.

"C'mon. We both kno— know you can do better than—"

Despite almost reaching the peak of your climbing orgasm, you dig your nails into the hand Eddie's got fixed on your hip, forcing your knees into your mattress to bring you both to a halt.

"Don't ever say that. Don't ever say that because it's not true", you place your hands on his cheeks, caressing his face gently. "I only kept my mouth shut incase you didn't feel the same about me...I didn't want to spoil what we already had. I couldn't stand it if you didn't want to be friends anymore..."

"Baby—", it's his turn to cradle your face, thumb making gentle circles on your cheek. "You could never lose me", he tells you, soft but firm and then you feel a pull and you suppose he must feel it too because you're both leaning in, faces closer than they've ever been before, lips grazing each other before you're sharing a kiss with your best friend for the very first time

It's gentle at first, both of your fingers weaving into each others' hair, a soft nip here and there before growing more hungry when Eddie's tongue meets yours. Both of you moan and whimper into each other's mouths, sloppy and messy, your heartbeats turning rapid when you eventually have to break for air, Eddie in need of the same when your lips part with a sticky click and he leans back to rest against the headboard again, panting. Any longer and he'd have cum from the kiss alone.

You catch your breath first, the corner of your mouth picking up into a lopsided smile. "Now are we going to make up for lost time or what?", you challenge him, both of you beaming with bright eyes and brighter smiles.

You pick up where you'd both left off, your hands on Eddie's shoulders and him, one hand on your hip, the other on your right breast, squeezing your soft skin, flicking your nipple because it makes you gasp and he loves hearing the sound of it.

"Please tell me you're close" Eddie grunts, sure to leave marks behind on your hip in the shape of his fingers. You were looking forward to admiring them in the mirror later.

"G-getting there. Wanna go faster— is that okay?", you make sure to ask, his answer coming through when his left hand slips down to find space on your other hip, pulling and pushing you along his length quick enough to make you squirm on his lap as your clit drags on him just right.

"Eddie— feels perfect...I think I'm gonna-"

"Please—" he cuts you off quickly with a ragged huff, his eyes wandering away from the wet, sticky stains that'd developed on both your underwear and his, pausing on the way your breast bounce and jiggle before fixing on your your eyes. "Please cum. I wanna watch you."

Your body begins to move on instinct as it chases your climax, eager to reach it this time than let it slip through your fingers twice. You're closer than before because it feels even better when you begin to lean back, your hands coming to rest on Eddie's thighs behind you. Your chest puffs out while you start to bounce yourself on Eddie's clothed cock, your puffy clit grazing against the stiff underside of his shaft, dragging dragging dragging until your eyes squeeze shut and it happens. The force of it wracks your body, overcome as your whole body quivers, and shakes, your pelvis twitching and jerking — and Eddie watches it all closely and unblinking.

In all his years of settling for quick glances and sly peeks at your body like those times your cleavage showed above your neckline or your bare legs and thighs were displayed whenever the weather called for a pair or shorts or a skirt, Eddie's never seen a more beautiful sight than the one he's taking in now — The way a light sheen glistens on your face, neck and chest, your swollen lips parting, releasing whimper after moan, your hair a little wild and beautiful and your panties drenched and ruined.

Eddie reaches out and brings you close, wrapping his arms around you as your chests meet and you fold into him, burying your face in his neck, whimpering and whining as your clit aches with oversensitivity though not enough to ask him to stop.

He's close by the sound and feel of it, so you grit your teeth and let him buck up against your poor soaked cunt, over and over as you drink in every grunt and groan. You want him to feel good too, unable to resist helping him tip over the edge. You let your tongue slip out from between your lips, licking the salt by his pulse point and letting out a little whisper to unravel him completely.

"Go on, cum for me, Eddie."

A guttural groan rumbles out of his throat just seconds later. it's instantaneous the way pleasure flares white hot at the pit of his stomach, shooting all the way up and raining down on the rest of his body like fireworks.

Though you're yet to feel Eddie inside you, yet to have your walls stretch to accommodate his shape and length so that you don't miss every little jerk, twitch and throb before he spills hot into you, you're still able to feel the effect of Eddie's orgasm. His body shudders and twitches underneath your weight, your pussy feeling warmer and wetter where just under it, Eddie's cum spurts rope after messy rope into his underwear, the cotton becoming saturated with his spend and transferring to your panties.

In the moments following your intense mutual pleasure, the both of you remain entangled in each others arms, sitting in the damp mess you've made of yourselves while you fight to catch your breath. It's Eddie who manages to break the silence first.

"...Do I have to go?, he whispers to you, one warm hand stroking your back gently.

"Do you want to go?, you ask softly against his neck, nuzzling against his skin.

"Not if I can stay and be with you"

You smile hard, chuckling against his skin. "Then stay. I want you to stay too. Y' can hide out in here"

"Yeah? I'm your little secret, huh?", he teases, his lips kissing your temple

"Only for today", you reply.

"Oh?"

You gently unstick yourself from Eddie so you can look him in the eyes, brushing his sweaty bangs away from his bright eyes before you cradle his cheek with one hand.

"Tomorrow I'm telling everyone we know that you're mine"

[fandomsandfairytales]

Ooooooo I love this idea! I do have to say, it's got me thinking....what about bagpipes for battles 👀

first age elves going into battle with a marching band

[cheyisagirlkisser]

nsfw. ellie fingers you on patrol to help with your cramps. 1.4k words.

Never in your three years of residency in Jackson would you ever predict this–Ellie’s fingers deep inside of you, stroking the soft, sweet spot swollen by your own arousal. You would never have been able to predict actually crying out for her touch, hips bucking up to meet her palm like it was nothing. It was truly everything, because this was never supposed to happen.

You and Ellie had a strong distaste for each other from the start.

You liked to go to parties and drink, be reckless during patrols, and (at least attempt to) sleep with anyone who you thought was even slightly fuckable. Ellie was a wallflower, so maybe her distaste for you was plain jealousy. For you, your dislike for Ellie was much more than just something solvable with a little chat.You really resented her, and maybe it was because she actually made you feel things.

It was just another patrol like the rest, Ellie being quiet around you, and you refusing to make your usual conversation. Ellie was the only person you didn’t chat up a storm with when it came to these long patrol shifts, this one even lasting two days and requiring a camp set-up. If the two of you had really thought it through, you would’ve been more careful. Two people who have that obvious and yet annoyingly oblivious tension? It should’ve been predictable.

It started with the growing of blood in your underwear. The perfect time to be on your period, huh? You only let out a little huff to which Ellie ignored, setting off into the forest to put on a pad. When you returned, it was like fate that hit you, much like a lightning strike. Literally a strike of pain in your lower stomach signifying cramps to come, and on the one patrol you before to bring a bottle of Ibuprofen on.

You laid in your sleeping bag in pain, not wanting to even complain to Ellie, as much as you were the whining type. It’d be real nice to have someone to listen to you express how badly this cycle was, how your body was doing you dirty. You weren’t expecting Ellie to speak to you first.

“You okay over there?” not the usual irritated tone she liked to use with you, but not the most empathetic. Just slightly softer, but that was a mercy due to the strain in your relationship.

“Cramps.”

“Just take an ibuprofen and lay on your side.”

“Gee, thanks. I would’ve never thought to do that,” you bit, making Ellie glare. “I don’t have anything on me. I forgot I was close to my period.”

“Damn,” a not so sympathetic, and possibly indifferent curse from her.

“Yeah, damn is right. I feel like I’m being stabbed in my uterus repeatedly.” 

Silence went on for a few more minutes, but it was visually obvious that you were in a lot of pain. Despite her dislike for you, she didn’t like seeing you suffer. There was a small flutter of empathy deep inside her that made her suggest something she probably shouldn’t have.

“Physical stuff can help cramps, you know.” Quiet, and yet the implication was clear.

“You mean like..sex?”

“Don’t think of it as actual sex, obviously. Just me helping you.”

“If we do this, we aren’t having sex. I’m not moaning for you or telling you how much I want you, so don’t expect that shit. You’re simply giving me an orgasm, and then it’s done.”

“Agreed. No kissing, and as soon as you..finish, we stop.”

And it started just like that, as sexual act of non-sex.

Ellie didn’t warm you up with neck kisses or sloppy love bites like your usual partners did, and partially, you were glad. This was just supposed to be an orgasm, and you didn’t need to like each other to appreciate a good orgasm, right? A simple pain reliever. Anytime your brain would bleed with thoughts of Ellie doing those things for you, however, you’d block them out as soon as they entered into your mind. The imagery was more difficult to get out of your head, though. Just simply picturing her plush lips trailing over your neck, breath ghosting over…

You snapped out of it, and just focused on trying to cum so that this would end, and you and Ellie could go back to hating each other.

One finger slipped inside of you, and you bit back a gasp. You were wet enough to take it without much at all, and you hoped Ellie just assumed that was just because of your period and not actually because you were turned on.

Ellie started out slow, just rubbing your g-spot with her finger, providing some direct stimulation. It made you realize how different the act of sex itself was from sex with all of the other stuff. The teasing, how your typical couple would build up the moment to make it the best possible experience. That wasn’t what this was, though. So, why were you biting your lip to stifle moans when Ellie slipped in another finger into your increasingly wet hole, and even padded over your clit with her thumb?

Your head was spinning, and you were starting to lose your focus on just having that orgasm, the aid to your cramping. You were already too distracted to think about the pain, too focused on trying your hardest to pretend like Ellie’s calloused fingers curling into your pussy wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve felt in a while. 

Ellie didn’t complain when you instinctively bucked your hips up into her touch, and she had to try really hard not to lean down and kiss you when the occasional moan slipped past your lips. She couldn’t blame you, it was a natural reaction.

So, why was it that you were now begging for more when she curled right up into your sweet, tender spot?

“Ellie,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering open to meet hers. The scrunch of her nose that was usually present when you were around faded away, and her eyes were lidded, her lips parted slightly. A delicious, rosy tint set across her freckled face.

“Is it helping?”

“Please. Please, fuck me..just like that, I need it,” you begged, making her stomach do summersaults. It couldn’t be helped, though. Ellie took note that you shed off a little bit of your dignity when she slid her fingers slightly out and shoved them back into your hole, just to slam into your g-spot. She liked the way you sounded, the way your usual walls built around her crumbled when she fucked you good. Even though she didn’t (or at least tried not to) care to observe you enough, she noticed that you were different when at parties dancing with random people, more inauthentic. Something was ironically beautiful about the rawness to your voice that hit hard when she did something particularly mind-blowing to your pussy.

A mix of blood and your juices were dripping down her knuckles, and she really wanted to taste you. It would probably be something she would regret later, but Ellie decided to sate herself with a soft kiss to your lips instead. She felt warm and tasted like the rations from earlier, but you kissed her back fervently. The needy sounds coming from your throat were swallowed by her own mouth.

The orgasm that hit you was mind-blowing enough to aid with the cramps, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. Instead, it was the way Ellie’s tongue coaxed your lips apart, and the scent of her hair against your nose when she buried her face into your neck to taste your pulse. You felt every tremor run through you like lightning, and it was unlike anything anyone else could give you. It wasn’t forced, and the passion there was real. You actually felt something with her. 

As you came down however, the moment dissolved into awkward silence and the careful removal of Ellie’s fingers from you. You swallowed, holding back your words. You wished to forget it all now, not because you wanted to deny it ever happened, but you were scared of what it meant if you got attached to someone in Jackson.

Just like that, it was over, and you and Ellie didn’t go quite back into disliking each other dynamic but rather an awkward limbo. You left that patrol and spent the next few weeks sleeping with people, pulling all-nighters trying to make yourself feel what you did on that patrol, but you never could find the same peak in every single category of feelings that Ellie gave you.

[seiwas]

bakugo can’t sleep until you’re home.

it’s weird and wholly unexpected of himself, staying up past the bedtime he’s spent his entire youth following. but then, he guesses, that’s just one of the things you’ve managed to affect in him.

there’s no reason he should feel this uneasy; you share your location and reply regularly. your last message to him was 5 minutes ago and you’d even sent a selfie.

he knows the people you’re out with, knows the place your friends have chosen to party in. there are plenty of reasons for him to believe that you’ll make it back home safely.

but there’s always that one probability, that one off-chance that something happens—that something goes wrong.

he shuts his eyes, turning to face the ceiling after an unsuccessful 30 minutes of attempting to sleep on his side. his breathing speeds up ever so slightly, chest rising and falling in tandem with the thumps growing louder in his ears.

bakugo fidgets every time he blinks underneath his closed eyes—little zaps beneath his skin telling him to stay awake, stay alert; stay on his toes.

it must be the hero in him.

a large exhale, before bright red burns through the ceiling—he stares so intently at the space above him it’s a wonder a gaping hole hasn’t formed from it.

the pillow to his right is still empty, but it smells so much like your shampoo, his senses are playing tricks on him. comfort accompanied by worry.

he huffs out, finally getting up to slip his feet into his house slippers—a pair of fluffy orange he wouldn’t dare be caught in.

(but it’s from you, and it matches your black ones too.)

he paces around the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of cold water. the time on the wall reads 1:34 in the morning—he has to be up in 3 hours for an early start at the gym before patrol.

you’d told him he should go ahead and sleep but he can’t—he never can when he’s thinking about you.

a yawn escapes him, eyes watering. he might as well be productive and look over some of yesterday’s—

then you enter the door.

you’re a little bit of a stumbling mess as you turn the lock behind you, toeing off your heels on the genkan while holding onto the walls for support. you barely notice him until you spot those familiar orange fuzzy slippers in front of you.

“g’na fall over like this,” he mumbles, voice rough as he follows it with a tut, “stay still.”

before you fully realize it, he’s already knelt to the floor, cradling your ankle on his thigh with a gentleness reserved just for you.

“katsuki,” you whisper in surprise, “you’re still up.”

he hums, pressing his thumbs all over the sole of your foot before picking up the other.

“couldn’t sleep.”

he’ll spare you the details, the thrum of his heartbeat steadying, slowing now that you’re here with him. he yawns again, eyes starting to feel just a bit heavy. comfort and relief.

it must be because he loves you, he thinks.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

The Facade of You

I wanted to write him off putting and cocky at the same time, but that sure is a fine line. Reader is a bit of a spitfire when they probably should keep their mouth shut. (And I love that) ~2.3k words

When the Arkham Knight wants something, he gets it. Driven. Focused. Torrent in his mission and desires. You knew it from the moment you met him. Knew it the second you swung the aluminum baseball bat at his head, and he stopped your swing without even a flinch.

This was going to be a problem. Well, more of a problem than it already was.

Most of Gotham had evacuated because of whatever insane plan Scarecrow had crafted. Most, but not all. You had shored yourself up in your apartment, ready to ride out whatever happens from the comfort of your own home.

Was it the smartest decision? Maybe not. But you had survived blizzards in July, streets lined with living plants, and some guy who liked to run around hosting tea parties while wearing a top hat. So, you think you could be forgiven if you thought you could handle some threats of fear gas and anarchy.

And honestly, you probably could have. If not for the figure wearing armor worth more than your whole apartment breaking through your window.

On any other day, you probably would have screamed at the sight of the stranger standing in your living room. But tonight, there's no neighbors to call the cops, no vigilantes with time to spare patrolling the streets to hear you cry for help.

So you swung. Swung your bat right for his weird, glowing helmet with all your strength.

His fingers caught and curled around the metal before you even registered him moving. Everything seemed to go still, your instincts practically screaming at you to flee. You didn't need to see his face to know that he's smirking at you, head tilting like what you did was interesting, but pointless.

The silence stretches as you try to tug the bat from his hold, but the man doesn't even seem to move. No, he only starts to laugh at you, laughs like this is the last he expected, like the entire situation is ridiculous.

It draws a scowl to your face. So what if he's covered head to toe in armor and weapons? He broke into your apartment to what? Revel in your misery? Make fun of you? And you're just supposed to take that?

You open your mouth to confront him, to demand answers, when he laughs again, low and still full of disbelief, "Of course, of course you're still in this damned city. I shouldn't be surprised. Always in places you shouldn't be, aren't you."

He punctuates his words with a low, long drawl of your name, the letters falling off his tongue and through the modulator of his helmet as if he's said them a million times.

He drops his hold on the bat, but it hardly matters when your own grip starts to slack at the sound of your name, "Who are you," You demand, every hair on edge as the stranger starts to pace your apartment, almost as if he's looking for something to occupy himself with.

"You aren't supposed to be here, you know," he murmurs, picking up a framed photo, "It's not part of the plan. But I suppose I'm to blame for not expecting this of you."

You step forward, anger clouding your better judgment at the sight of him picking over your things like they're his own, "Put that down."

He turns his head towards you, lifting the photo to your field of vision, "This? It's hardly important."

You grit your teeth at the sight. It is important. More than he could possibly understand. Yours and Jason's smiling face shines from the picture behind the glass, your figures illuminated by the rare summer sun Gotham gets. It's one of the only pictures you have of him, some of the only evidence he was ever in your life.

You lunge forward without warning, dropping your bat in a bid to grab the frame. He easily side steps your desperate attempts. Something seems to shift in the air as he practically purrs, "whoops," and drops the photo from between his fingers.

The breath leaves your lungs as the glass shatters, leaving the photo in a pile of shards and broken wood. Your gaze snaps back to him, outraged, "Who do you think you are? How dare–"

"You can call me The Arkham Knight," he cuts in simply, stepping on the shards– on the photo of Jason– like it's less than nothing.

"What do you want," You hiss, biting back insults over how insane you think he sounds. You match his step forward with your own backward motion, keeping space between you.

"To make Batman pay," he drawls, honest and never slowing his steps towards you, even as you rapidly run out of space between you and the wall.

You shift your free hand to your pocket, trying to fumble for your phone without him noticing, "Then why are you here? I'm not Batman."

He finally stops stalking your every step as your back hits the wall, lingering only an arms length away from you, "No," he relents, "You're not Batman. But he does feel responsible for you."

"He feels responsible for everyone," You protest, fingers tapping blindly across your phone. Your voice shakes, even as you try to hide it. But it's hard not to be intimidated by the man towering over you, by the unblinking whites of his mask shining on your face.

He sighs, like whatever game he's playing suddenly went dull, "It's a shame you were here. Really. It would have been better if you'd left the city."

You press send on your phone. At least, you hope the (ideally) coherent message you're trying to get to Babs without seeing is sending, "Are you going to kill me?"

He recoils like the idea repulses him. It's the first bit of proof you've gotten that he even has feelings outside of whatever front he's been putting up. But he settles back into that lazy, uncaring pose, nodding towards your pocket, "Go ahead, sweet thing. Call Barabra. Call Dick. Call Bruce, even. They won't help you. Even if it wasn't such a busy night, you've never been their priority."

You tense, frozen under his unwavering gaze and the revelation of his words. His jabs don't bother you. He's clearly trying to get under your skin. But, he– The Arkham Knight– knows. Your mind races as your breathing shallows. He knows about Batman– everyone. But how much does he know? How much could he know? Their identities, that secret, it always felt untouchable.

It nearly makes you tremble. Is that why he's here? To get back at them somehow through you? It hardly makes sense if it's true. Jason's the one that cared about you– that wanted you to be okay.

His words feel like a trap. The idea that he wants you to call for help is just another game he's letting you play. But you pull out your phone anyway, your eyes never really leaving him even as you dial a number with trembling fingers.

The line rings. And rings. Then, "Hi, it's Barbara–"

"Babs, I need–" You start, only to be cut off by the continued message.

"I can't answer the phone right now, but leave a message after the tone, and I'll be sure to get back to you!"

Your heart drops, and you don't get the chance to consider your options before the Arkham Knight is plucking your phone out of your hands to end the call. He tosses your only hope of getting help towards your couch.

His voice is mocking, when he speaks again, "See? They can't even save themselves. How could you think they'd bother with you?"

"Why are you here," You ask instead, desperate to ignore the growing pit in your stomach, the fear creeping up your spine.

He hums, and reaches up to grab your chin, turning your face this way and that to study you. "A lapse in judgment. Curiosity. A weakness for the past. It hardly matters," he mutters, more for himself than you, "What matters is what to do with you."

"You could leave me here," you suggest quickly, grabbing at his wrist to keep him still, "Pretend you never saw me. I won't get in the way. I'm– I'm no vigilante. I won't be any trouble."

He scoffs, dropping his hand from your face, "This city would eat you alive. You can't handle what's coming."

"And what's it to you," You snarl, sounding braver that you feel and driven by the annoyance course through your veins. You're more than capable of taking care of yourself. (Just not necessarily against military trained rouges)

That seems to snap him to attention, and you regret your words immediately. You've essentially given him a reminder that you mean as much to him as the photo he left broken on the floor. And if he wanted to send a message to Batman, it would be easy to start with you.

"It's nothing to me," he hisses back, but even the modulator in his helmet doesn't hide the tightness– the near lie– of his voice, "You're in over your head, doll. If anything, you should be grateful I'm showing you the truth."

Your blood runs cold, your tone sharpens, and your eyes narrow. He doesn't have the right. Jason's the only one that's ever nicknamed you doll. His eyes always seemed to shine when he said it. "Don't call me that," You warn, words dripping with malice.

He honestly snorts at you, unimpressed by your threat, "What's wrong, doll? Hit a sore spot?"

You throw yourself at him, aiming a fist for his dumb helmet as your heart pounds in your ears. If he's going to make an example of you, use you against Batman, you're not going to lay back and just let him pick at your wounds.

He catches you like he expected it, hauling you into the air as you scream obscenities and curses, kicking and hitting your fists against his armor until he dumps you unceremoniously onto the couch. You scramble for your discarded phone, and he's quick to pin you down, his knee braced to your stomach to keep you from moving as he knocks your phone out of reach.

He huffs as if this is just a minor setback, reaching down to fix the wrinkles forming in your clothes every time you struggle, "And here I thought you liked being called doll."

"Not by you," You practically spit, all rationally thrown out the window as you continue to squirm. You bring your nails up to his arm, trying to dig into any weak spots in his armor for a chance to escape, to make him hurt.

"Only by me, sweet thing," he coos, and your world stills to a halt as he clicks the faceplate of his helmet back.

Jason Todd is grinning at you. It's not quite right. His eyes are wilder than you remember, his smile too forced, too tense. There's more scars across his skin than you recall there being. A stark white brand stands out on his cheek. But it's him. Undeniably him.

"Now where'd all your fight go," he questions, fingers trails up to rest on your throat, "no need to look all surprised, doll."

All you can offer is his name falling from your lips, eyes wide, and face shell-shocked.

He tuts, fingers flexing ever so slightly against your pulse, "Is that really all you have to say?"

"They told me you were dead," you choke out, unable to fight the tears threatening to well in your vision.

"They lied," he says simply, as if that answers anything. He lifts his hand from your throat to press his thumb against your lower eyelid, the light pressure forcing your tears to spill onto the fabric of his glove.

"Jason–" You try again, wanting answers, comfort, anything you can latch onto.

He only shushes you, "I don't blame you, sweet thing, for falling for it. That's just what they do. They lie. Change the narrative to fit their twisted perceptions. But I'll help you. I'll tell you everything you need to know. All you need to do, is come with me."

It's a bad idea. You feel it down to your bones. Jason, your Jason, isn't the one digging his knee into your stomach, isn't the one collecting your tears on his glove like they're a trophy. But he is Jason, and he's only ever done what's best for you. So going with him has to be right, has to be what you're supposed to do.

You nod. What else could you do? How could you even think to deny him when his face lights up in the shadow of how he used to smile at you?

He stands, and it takes every bit of strength you have not to surge forward and beg him not to when he clicks his helmet back shut. The Arkham Knight– Jason– offers you a hand, and you don't need a second thought to take it.

You shouldn't. You really shouldn't. He said it himself, he didn't plan for you to even be here. But his grip is steady in yours, and he keeps turning his head to check on you as he leads you across your apartment and to the window.

Relief clouds your mind, the idea that everything could be okay as long as he's back. So you follow him, don't ask questions even as he leads you down the fire escape and towards a suspiciously armored truck.

You don't press, even as he barks orders at the driver that's dressed more like a soldier than a chauffeur.

You let him tell you that you made the right choice. That he's going to fix all of this, that you being here will help in the end. You let him guide you through Gothams ruined streets, far away from your home, from where the memory of him is shattered on the floor.

And if you left your phone ringing over and over again on your couch in a frantic attempt to reach you, you're far too blinded by the echo of the boy you're chasing to care.

[porcelian]

A SIGHT SO SWEET

PAIRING: jason todd ✗ gn!reader ;

SYNOPSIS: jason can't seem to get enough of you – his watchful eye never once leaves you ;

REQUEST: “ hello! i went to a party today and i kept thinking about jason. well, i think he'd be the kind of partner who'd watch you from afar to make sure you're okay, he'd definitely have access to your location 24 hours for his own peace of mind. i went to a party today and i wondered what it would be like for him to watch me while he's on patrol to make sure i'm ok, he'd want to know when you're leaving your house, when you've arrived the place you're going to and when you're leaving as well. especially given the fact that i've been drinking i think... anyway, could you write something based on that? xx 💋 ”

WARNINGS: nothing to worry about in this fic. it can get a bit suggestive at the end ;

WORD COUNT: 1.0k ;

NOTES: i enjoyed writing this fic so much! i'm not sure what sparked it, but the process was so fluid and enjoyable. thank you for this request <3 it was a joy to write. it is honestly such a marvel to try and understand jason's character with every piece of work i write. i started around june-july and now i feel confident to call myself a writer and i have all of you to thank <3 ;

── .✦ NAVIGATION ; MASTERLIST & AO3 ౨ৎ

“I'M TOUGH.” you remark as Jason’s rough fingertips dance over your knuckles ever so delicately.

He regards you as if he'd break you if he grabbed on too hard. His soft touches light a candle in your heart. Your skin feels hot as his touch grazes over it.

He nods, “I know you are.” His voice is laced with the all too familiar worry you've grown to hear from him.

You wish you could take all of it away and protect him. Unfortunately, you can't do that. You settle with trying to carry the burden together and prove to him he doesn't have to face any of this alone.

“C’mon Jay—” you pout, his eyes dart between your charming eyes and lips - dewy from the cherry lipstick you wear.

Cherries, an angel's kiss in spring.

“—It’s just a simple bar, a small get-together with some of my UNI friends. Nothing bad will happen,” you put the emphasis on the last bit of your words as an effort to soothe Jason's fears and reassure him, “I can take care of myself.”

“You have,” he says, “you still do and will do so, I’ve just joined in too. I want to take care of you too.”

His words strike a chord inside your heart, the saccharine taste of them fills every corner of your body. Those endearing eyes he sneaks glances at you, not aware that you notice them and do the same, break into the surface of your skin and steal your breath away.

He has a way of consuming every bit and part of you. That never fails to mesmerize you.

“We take care of eachother.” You reply as your lips graze over his scarred knuckles. “I don't want you to worry so much, baby.”

He sighs as he leans into your touch. “I know, I just—” he stammers, the words getting stuck on his tongue.

“It's normal to worry, but you can’t let it consume you.” You bring your hands to cradle his face. Jason doesn't shy away from the touch and sinks into your embrace – the sight makes your heart ache in the best way.

You grab onto his hand and place it on the inside of your wrist, letting him feel your pulse.

You give him a cheeky grin as you whisper, “feel that?”

He chuckles quietly, “Mhm, yes.”

“As long as you see, hear and feel me – I will never leave.”

*****

In Jason's mind there is not a single person in this world who compares to you. No one is as dreamlike and otherworldly like you. Especially now, as he watches you sway and move in the kaleidoscopic hues of the bar. The prismatic lights kiss your delicate and inviting skin.

Oh, how he wishes to do the same.

Jason wonders if you know that he’s keeping an eye on you right now, if you can feel his watchful gaze on your form. Do his glances light a fire in your heart just as yours does in his?

He should be patrolling right now, making sure everything is okay. But he find his eyes following your every step as you glide through the dance floor.

He knew when you left the shared apartment that belongs to the two of you – 6:31 pm, knew when you arrived at the bar – 7:05 pm, knew when you finally met up with your friends – 7:18 pm.

Jason engraves every detail in his mind, because he has to. He's making sure that you're okay, that you're safe.

He catches a glimpse of you drinking some vibrant drink. You scrunch your nose at the taste of it and the sight sends butterflies in his stomach.

You laugh at something your friend says. The infectious and melodic sound of it reaches Jason. He can’t help the moonstruck grin that spreads on his face.

Jason's thrown for a loop when he spots your gaze pin him in place. Your eyes fixate on him as if you're entranced, as if he's the only one in the room.

He feels his heartbeat speed up.

Without tearing your gaze off of him you mumble something to your friends, something that he can only guess was a short goodbye. The surprised looks on your friends faces quickly disappear from his mind as you stride to him with confident, but light steps.

“Come to take me home?” You question with a curious voice with a taste of something he can't yet place.

He sheepishly runs his hand down his neck. “What gave it away?”

“Well.” You click your tongue. A smirk dances on your lips. “You've been pretty attentive all night long, watching my every move. I hope the show was up to your standards.”

“Show–?” He chokes on his words. You tease.

You laugh. The sound is akin to honeyed nectar on his tongue.

Jason tries to collect his thoughts. “I still haven't had my fill and I don't plan on leaving you unsatisfied either.”

“Really? I wonder who's the greedy one in this relationship.” You hum playfully.

“Dance with me,” he suggests unexpectedly.

Your eyes dart across his face, taking in his nervous demeanor. “You don't dance.”

“For you I will.”

*****

He spares a single glance at the time. 10:46pm. Time for you to head back to the apartment.

He counts himself a lucky man as the one who takes you home, as the one who waits for you outside the bar, as the one your wobbly steps guide you towards, as the one you wrap your arms around while he caresses your face and tells you to let me help you with the helmet, honey.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. The skin is velvety to the touch.

Jason's eyes don't leave your own dazed and enchanted eyes. To him you are a vision so captivating, so sickeningly sweet, all he wants is to get a taste of you.

He is taking you home, isn't he? He is truly a lucky man.

© PORCELIAN ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[demonic0angel]

Dc×Dp prompt

The batfam were having a relatively slow night. They all meet up to report in, even Jason, and suddenly they hear a motorcycle roaring towards them and then Johnny 13 speeds by actively having Shadow drag a very beat up Danny behind his bike by his leg. Only problem is that Danny is Fenton and not Phantom

“It’s so boringgggg,” Spoiler whined. She hugged Black Bat and hung off of her in misery. “There’s nothing to doooooo…” Black Bat patted her head and just hummed.

“You can patrol,” Batman deadpanned. “Or write a report.”

Red Hood booed him. “Lame!” He turned to Spoiler and asked, “Wanna come with me to go and TP Bruce Wayne’s house?”

Spoiler perked up. “Great idea!”

“You are a bunch of lazy idiots,” Robin groused, while Nightwing patted his head and cooed.

“Aww, little bat, lighten up! I think it’s a great idea! Let’s egg his house too!”

Red Robin hid a snicker through a cough, as Batman sighed heavily, shaking his head and wondering why his children were planning to vandalize their home. The night was peaceful, and even Oracle was taking a break. They all chatted with one another, joking and bantering, when they heard the roar of a motorcycle nearby.

Nobody really paid attention until it passed by them, with a kid attached to the back and flying through the air, clearly in some weird sort of kidnapping since he wasn’t fully seated. Said kid was dressed in dark clothes that looked visibly torn and battered, but nothing else could be noticed as the motorcycle zoomed by with the kid dragged behind it with only a leg.

All of the Gotham vigilantes paused, just staring.

Then in one burst of motion, they all leapt onto their bikes or into the Batmobile to furiously chase after the speeding motorcycle with the kid dangling from the back.

Danny, meanwhile, crossed his arms and scowled when he noticed the yelling and vehicles trying to catch up to them. “Look what you did! Now the heroes are chasing after us!”

Johnny sneered. “If you stopped being a party pooper, we wouldn’t have to fight!”

“Let me go, idiot! If they find out that you’re actually a ghost, we’re both going to get in trouble!”

Johnny clicked his tongue and his shadow then let go of Danny, who tumbled from the sudden loss of anchor. He rolled onto the ground, groaning, and was promptly picked up by several hands. He flinched from the sudden touch and froze like a deer in headlights when multiple vigilante eyes landed on him with scrutiny.

Fuck.

“Uh. Hi?”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is all on his own for Christmas and you both know why

Masterlist

Peter pulled out his chair and took a seat at his empty table.

In another life, you occupied the seat beside him and ate together while you chatted about your days or sat in comfortable silence.

Now, Peter came home to the same cold, empty apartment every day. The sound of your laughter or the smell of your cooking haunted the place and lingered to constantly reminder of what Peter let get away.

Peter pushed around his dinner with his fork. It had been a while since any reached his lips. He was busy thinking about the nights when you’d fallen asleep while you waiting for him to come home from patrol. You’d always leave his dinner in the microwave with a love note taped to the utensils you left out for him. There were no notes to greet him anymore and he was feeling especially sorry for himself about their absence that night. To interrupt Peter’s pity party came a phone call that he answered without looking at his phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey.” Came a downcast female voice from the other side.

For a moment, the term of endearment made him grow hopeful that it was you who had called. He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the caller ID, making the hope leave as quickly as it came.

“Hi, May.” He sighed. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” She laughed in surprise. “You tell me. I feel like I haven’t spoken to you since there were still leaves on the trees.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I kept meaning to call.” Peter mumbled and looked out his window at the falling snow. It had been a minute since he picked up the phone.

“It’s all right. I’m just glad to get a hold of you now. How have you been?” May asked him.

Peter looked at the empty chair beside him again and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Fine.” He said after a minute. May was quiet for a minute and he could feel her dejection through the phone.

“I have to say, Peter, I’m a little disappointed that I haven’t heard from you in so long.” May admitted. “I finally got you on the phone and all you can tell me is you’re “fine”? Can I get anymore? What’s new in your life? What have you been up to?”

“I’m busy, May. I told you, I meant to call. But I have a lot on my plate right now. This is a really dangerous time of year.” Peter replied as he rubbed his tired eyes. He felt guilty for how little he reached out but that was currently buried under the anger he felt for her pointing it out.

“I know, I know.” She said quietly. “It gets really busy at the center around the holidays. But it only takes a few seconds to send a text.”

Peter could hear the sadness in her voice and let out a sigh. He let go of his anger for once and nodded his head.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve checked in more.” He mumbled as his eyes drifted to the empty chair beside him again. Your ghost materialized in front of him as his mind went back to December of last year.

last Christmas

“You should really call her.” You said when you saw Peter decline another phone call from May.

“I said I’d do it later tonight.” Peter grumbled before taking two bites out of the dinner you left out for him. You made a choice not to comment on his sharp tone because you could tell he was already upset over something.

“I know. But you said that the past two nights and you still haven’t done it. I stopped by the community center before to check in on her and she seemed really overwhelmed. I think a call from you would really cheer her up.” You said in a calm voice. Peter stopped eating and looked at you with annoyance.

“You stopped by the center? Why?”

“To eat with her. We usually take our lunch breaks at the same time so I-“

“I don’t need you to babysit my aunt, okay” He cut you off. “That just makes me look worse for not calling her.”

“Then call her.” You stayed calm even though his tone was hurting your feelings.

“I don’t need you to tell me when to call her. Why are you always on me about this?” He snapped and walked away from you.

“Because, Peter. You know how hard the holidays are for her without Ben and your dad. You are the only family she has right now. If you keep putting off calling her, your relationship isn’t going to last. And you aren’t really in a position to be losing family.” You said as you followed him. Peter stopped in his tracks and turned to looked at you.

“Are you seriously trying to guilt me into calling May by reminding me my parents are dead?” He asked you with hardened eyes that told you he was not about to listen to anything you were about to say.

“That’s not what I’m doing, Peter.” You sighed. “I’m just saying that you and her are each others only family and it’s important to keep your bond now that you’ve moved out.”

“I’ll call her when I want to call her, okay? The two of you are being so annoying about a damn phone call. You’re not my mother and neither is she so the both of you need to get off my back. Just stop being a bitch about it and…” Peter trailed off when he realized he’d gone too far and the look on your face told him exactly how the rest of the conversation was going to play out.

“Nice.” You smiled tightly and walked away. Peter followed after you as guilt for the entire conversation settled in.

“Where are you going?” He asked as you put your jacket on.

“I’m leaving.” You said without looking at him.

“To go where? It’s already dark outside. And you haven’t eaten yet.” He tried to reason with you as he followed you towards the door.

“I’m gonna eat with May. She usually always sets out an extra plate anyway.” You mumbled and grabbed your purse. Peter panicked and stepped in front of the door. He was worried that if you left right now, you’d never come back.

“Wait, honey, please. I’m sorry. I should never have used that word. Can we just talk?” He pleaded. You started into his eyes for a minute before shaking your head.

“I can’t talk to you.” You said as your eyes dropped to the floor.

“What do you mean?” He asked nervously.

“Because I don’t think you want to hear what I want to say. And that’s why you keep avoiding me.” You replied and looked him in the eyes. Peter felt his face grow hot. He didn’t realize you had noticed that. For the past month, he’d leave early in the morning to go to work and stay out all night on patrol. You only saw him when he stopped home to eat and even then, you barely got a word out of him.

“Well. I’m listening now. What do you have to say?” He asked, practically daring you to do it. He watched your eyes brim with tears as you gave him a shrug.

“That I want to breakup.” You said, taking all the air out of room.

“There you go.” He smiled sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

“It was, actually. It was really hard to watch you change into this person. This person who calls me a bitch and ignores calls from the woman who practically raised him. And it really sucks that this is the way things ended because I liked you so much in the beginning. For the first three months, I was the happiest I’d been in my life. But everything is different now. I really thought I saw a future with you but if this is how it’s going to be then I’m out.”

“Baby, come on.” Peter whispered pleadingly. “Out? I had one rough week.”

“It’s been more than this week, Peter. You’ve been shutting me out all month. You’re never around anymore and when you are, it’s like I can feel in the air how annoying you find me. I feel like I’m going to get in trouble every time I speak. And it’s not just me. Your aunt-“

“Wait, you told May about this? We have one problem and you run and tell on me to my aunt?” Peters eyes narrowed as his remorse hardened into anger.

“I didn’t tell on you.” You said pointedly. “I just talked to her because I didn’t know what was going on with you and I figured she could help.”

“Well, what did she say?” He asked with his attitude in full effect once again. You stopped being angry for a moment and reached out to touch his face. Peter wanted to lean into your hand but he restrained himself.

“She said December is a really hard month for you.” You said quietly. Peters eyes welled up with hot tears and he looked away from you so that you wouldn’t see him crying.

“If you ever wanted to talk about your parents-“

“I don’t.” He cut you off. “Not with you. You don’t understand.”

“Peter-“ You began and tried to hug him. He stepped out of your arms and took a step back from you.

“No. If you want to break up, then let’s break up. It’s not like we were in love or anything.” He snapped, making your arms slowly drop to your side. In the four months you’d been dating, you hadn’t said it yet. But you felt it. You both felt it.

“Is that how you feel?” You asked him. Peter didn’t look at you but nodded his head.

“All right. Then I guess we agree. We’re broken up.” You said in a weak voice as you folded your arms. Peter said nothing and kept his eyes on the floor. You passed by him suddenly and went into a cabinet above the microwave that he couldn’t reach so he never used. Peter watched you curiously as you pulled out a small wrapped gift and handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

“Your gift. Merry Christmas, Peter.” You smiled quickly and went for the door again. An immense feeling of regret hit Peter at once and he gently took your arm. You looked him in the eyes and an apology almost escaped his lips but died in his throat.

“Merry Christmas.” Was all he could say.

“I’ll be at Mays. Don’t worry. I won’t tell her what you told me. You don’t need her to bitch at you too.” You said as you opened the door. You were about to walk out of it when you stopped and looked at him.

“Peter?”

“Yes?” He asked with hope that you’d run back into his arms and let him make things right.

“Please, don’t call.” You requested before walking out of his life.

“Peter? Are you there?” May asked on the phone, brining him back to present day. He wiped the tears that had fallen down his face and nodded his head.

“I’m still here, sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.” He said in a quiet voice.

“It’s all right.” She said sympathetically. “Listen Peter, I really have to get back to the center. Please call me more often. I miss you. And I’m always, always here for you, okay?”

“I miss you too, May. I’m sorry again. I love you.”

“I love you too, Peter. Goodnight.” She replied before hanging up. Peter was alone once again but this time, with a plan.

The next day, Peter walked into the Community Center where May worked with the intention of surprising her. He greeted a few faces he recognized before walking to Mays office.

“May? You in here?” Peter asked as he pushed open her door.

“Peter?” You asked, making him freeze at the sound of your voice. Your eyes met after a nearly a year of no contact. You were sitting at Mays desk with a laptop but quickly shut it and stood up. Time was strangely calm as you moved towards Peter. To his surprise, you pulled him into a hug.

“It’s good to see you.” You said as you rubbed small circles onto his back. Peter came unstuck finally and wrapped his arms around you. He really needed that hug. You laughed a little in surprise over how tightly he hugged you before pulling out of the hug.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as he stared your face in disbelief.

“Oh, um. I work here.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’ve been here about a year now. Did May not tell you that?”

“No. She didn’t mention it. But we don’t, uh, we don’t really talk much.” He admitted.

“Right. I remember.” You smiled tightly. “Well, she’s out right now helping to deliver some groceries. She should be back within the hour. Do you want to wait for her?”

“Yeah. I guess so. Where can I stay so I’m out of the way?” Peter asked and looked around. He felt embarrassed for how little he knew about the place his aunt put so much work into.

“I was actually about to go on my lunch break. You could hang in here if you want.” You told him as you got your food out of the refrigerator. You could feel his eyes on you and that he had something he wanted to say. He looked very timid and you had a feeling he was having trouble getting his words together.

“Can I…can I go with you?” He asked in a quiet voice. You smiled softly and nodded your head.

“Come on. Follow me.” You beckoned him with your finger and he quickly followed you. You brought him to the employee cafeteria and found a quiet corner all to yourselves. Peter watched in curious silence as you unpacked a lunch similar to the ones you used to make him.

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked and held out half of your sandwich. Peter shook his head but didn’t take the sandwich.

“I’m all right. You eat.” He replied. You shrugged and started to eat your lunch. Peter had a million things he wanted to say to you but no idea where to begin. You could tell he wanted to talk but you decided it wasn’t your job to lead him there. If he had something to say, he needed to say it.

“You, um, you look great by the way. I like the shorter hair. It’s very pretty.” Peter said without making eye contact. You smiled sadly at how shy he sounded and put your food down.

“Thank you. It’s easier to manage this way.” You said as you smoothed down your hair. “I’d return the compliment but you look like you haven’t slept since the last time I saw you.”

“I don’t think I have.” He laughed sadly and rubbed his eyes.

You sat in an awkward silence for a moment as neither of you knew where to take the conversation next. Peter was looking around the room until his eyes landed on you. They looked so remorseful and tired that you almost pulled him into another hug.

“So, what are you doing for the holidays?” You asked to break the silence.

“I’ll probably just stay home and keep my radio on. It’s a pretty busy night for crime.”

“I’ve heard. Lots of break ins. Usually at houses where a child has been left home alone.” You replied, making Peter crack the tiniest smile.

“Exactly. There’s these two guys I really need to keep an eye out for. They break into peoples houses and turn all the faucets on.” He played along.

“Oh no.” You clicked your tongue. “That sounds pretty serious.”

“It is. So I’ll be super busy that night.” He nodded. You both laughed lightly but still felt a little uneasy being around each other.

“So I take it you’re not gonna spend Christmas with May?” You asked in a more serious voice. Peter gave you a sad smile and shook his head.

“No. I don’t think so. I think I’m on my own this year.”

“Peter, you know she’d love to have you. No matter what your relationship looks like right now.” You assured him.

“I know. And that’s the toughest part. Knowing she’d welcome me with open arms despite how awful I’ve been to her. I live ten blocks away yet I can’t be bothered to see her more than a few times a year. She’s too forgiving. I don’t deserve it. Not right now, at least.”

He was talking about May, but what he said could also be applied to his relationship with you. The toughest part of sitting there and catching up was both of you knowing exactly why you weren’t celebrating one year of dating right now and getting ready for a second Christmas together.

You didn’t know what to say so you turned your face and pretended to look at a nearby calendar. He wasn’t exactly deserving of your forgiveness either, something you both knew as well. And yet, you were aching to give it to him.

“It’s okay.” He said to break the silence. “I think a Christmas on my own will serve me some good. I never liked the holidays anyway.”

“Right. I remember you being a bit of a Grinch. You never wanted to window shop or walk around to look at the lights. I never understood why.” You laughed softly. Peters eyes quickly found the ground and he felt them well up with tears.

“I’m, um, I’m really sorry. About last year, I mean.” He said in the smallest voice you’d ever heard from him.

“Peter, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to bring it up. We don’t have to talk about that.” You waved your hand.

“It’s not fine. I wish I explained myself better when I had the chance. You were so excited about spending Christmas together. I left our relationship on the line because I didn’t know how to communicate.”

“Well, I’m here now.” You said and put your hand over his. “What did you want to explain?”

Peter froze at the contact and slowly looked into your eyes. You gave him a sad smile and rubbed his hand with your thumb to let him know it was okay.

“When you ended things that day,” he began, “it came as such a surprise that I got mean and defensive instead of listening to you. I have spent every day since wishing I just shut up and heard you out instead of agreeing that we should break up. I wish I fought harder to save us.”

“I appreciate you saying that, Peter. I do. But I don’t really see how it was a surprise that I ended things. I mean, no offense, but don’t act like you were kind. We were practically living together yet barely speaking. Towards the end, I felt like I was just haunting your apartment and you were trying to sage the place to get rid of me.”

“I know. I know I really messed up. And I’m sorry it took you breaking up with me to realize how shitty I was to you. I don’t blame you for leaving. I just don’t know how you ever stayed.”

“Well, it wasn’t bad the whole time.” You told him. “The first three months were amazing. At your best, you were magic. I was completely enamored with you. That’s why I stayed. But then, I don’t know. Things were different. You changed so quickly. I went from falling in love to feeling like I was slowly dying in your apartment while I waited for you to come home from patrol each night.”

“That sounds miserable. Jesus. Why didn’t you break up with me sooner?” Peter wondered.

“Because I knew that wasn’t you.” You told him. “I could tell you were going through something. I just didn’t know what it was. And the hope that things would return to how they used to be kept me around.”

“And they never did. Instead, I called you a bitch and drove you to leave.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. As he did this, he fully registered what you had said. You had just told him you were falling in love. The tips of his ears became hot and he rubbed his eyes quickly so you wouldn’t see that he was emotional.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. For everything I did and didn’t do. I would change so many things if I could go back.” Peter said as he stared blankly ahead. You gave his hand a gently squeeze, making him look at you.

“I know it’s none of my business anymore. But we’re here and I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to ask you again. Why do you hate December so much? What made you so angry that month?” You asked him. You could feel Peter tense up and he immediately stopped making eye contact with you. Instead, he stared at a Christmas tree in the corner of the room and let his eyes glaze over.

“It’s just…it’s a really hard month for me. I know that this is supposed to be the happiest time of the year but all it does is remind me of what I lost. I can’t see poinsettias without thinking of my mom. I can’t go into stores without thinking of my dad taking me to every jewelry store in New York to find a necklace that May would like. And every bakery I walk past makes me think of my uncle. All December does is remind me that everyone is gone now. I get so depressed that I push away the people I have left until it’s just me and my anger. I did it to you last year because I convinced myself that I was going to lose you anyway and now I’m doing it to May. And I don’t know how to stop.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a long time after that. Your lunch break had ended five minutes ago but you weren’t going anywhere. You looked each other in the eyes after a beat of silence and you reached forward to wipe tears from Peter’s face. His bottom lip started to tremble so you pulled him into a hug. You stayed like that in the calm silence of the room and just held each other.

“Well now I feel really bad for calling you a “grinch” a few minutes ago.” You said quietly. To your surprise, you felt Peter laugh as he pulled out of the hug.

“It’s okay. I am one. I literally punched a snowman yesterday on the sidewalk because it-“

Peter’s sentence was cut short by your lips meeting his. Once his initial shock wore off, he melted into you and kissed you back. He cupped your face with his cold hands and pulled you closer to him to make yo for lost time. You kissed him until you both couldn’t breathe and had to pull away.

“I think I just felt my heart grow three sizes.” Peter said breathlessly.

“Shut up.” You laughed. “I really need to get back to work now. Do you still live near that bodega with the good muffins?”

“I do. I ate a bran one this morning.” He told you.

“Okay, well that’s disgusting.” You grimaced. “But can I come over later so we can really talk?”

“I would love that.” Peter smiled and nodded his head.

“So would I. Come on. Walk me back to the office.” You said as you stood up and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took it and followed you back to the office. When you walked in, May was waiting for you.

“Oh. Peter!” She exclaimed and pulled him into a hug. “What a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, May.” Peter said sheepishly. You watched them as the hug lingered as both of them desperately needed it.

“So, May, Peter was just telling me he didn’t have any Christmas plans.” You interjected.

“Well you’ll have to come over then.” May insisted. “It was just going to be me and Happy and you know I always make too much food. We’d love to have you.”

“Are you sure?” Peter hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Impose? You could never. It would mean the world to me to have you there. We can finally catch up.”

“He’ll be there.” You answered for Peter, knowing he was reluctant to let himself be forgiven.

“I’ll be there.” He echoed and gave May a smile. May smiled back and pulled him into another hug.

Peter left the center with a very different feeling in his chest than the one he arrived with. He was starting to feel whole again after feeling fragmented for the better part of a year now. Snow fell on his head as he walked to his apartment and he found himself enjoying the feeling of it.

When your shift ended, you arrived at Peter’s apartment promptly at 6 o’clock. He helped you out of your jacket and brought you to his couch, where you spent the next two hours catching each other up on the past year. As you spoke, you looked around his apartment to see if anything was different. Your eyes immediately gravitated towards a little Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

Peter had only one ornament hanging on his tree. Right in the center was a heart made out of air dry clay. The words “I love you” were painted on it in bright white letters. It was your gift to him the year before and the only reason he put up a tree that year. Without one, he would have nowhere to display the reminder that at one point in his life, he did something right.

“You hung up my ornament.” You said as you turned to him with a smile.

“Of course I did. It’s the best gift I’d ever received.” He told you.

“That ugly little clay thing was the best gift you’ve ever received?” You laughed in disbelief.

“Not the ornament itself. You telling me you loved me.” He said in a soft voice. You smiled sadly and nodded your head. Things were so different now from when you first made that ornament. You had made it to tell him you loved him for the first time but it ended up being how you told him goodbye.

“I felt it too, by the way.” Peter continued. “I know I never said it. And I definitely didn’t show it towards the end. But I loved you too.”

You looked at the ornament one more time before turned to Peter and wrapping your arms around his neck, taking him by surprise. He hesitantly rested his forehead against yours to be closer.

“If you’re about to tell me you want to try again, I don’t deserve it. I made you miserable.” Peter said with eyes full of remorse.

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “But what if I wanted to try again anyway?”

“Why would you do that? Why would you forgive me?”

“I don’t know. Would “tis the season” be an acceptable answer?” You asked, making Peter laugh softly.

“No. It would not.”

“I know you think you don’t deserve to try again.” You said. “But I feel like I understand you so much better now. And I know you know better now than to shut me out. We’ve different people than we were a year ago. Why not give us another shot?”

“I don’t know.” Peter sighed. “What if I hurt you again?”

“I know it’s a lot. Why don’t you think about it tonight and when you figure it out, you can call me?” You asked him.

Peter met your eyes and nodded his head, satisfied with that compromise. You stroked his cheek with your thumb before getting up off the couch. You slipped your jacket back on while he thought about everything you had talked about that day. Just as you were about to walk out his doo, you stepped back in.

“Peter?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“Please, call me.” You asked him with sincerity. Peter smiled a little and nodded his head.

“I will.” He promised. You smiled in return and left his apartment.

You hadn’t made it to the lobby of his building before your phone rang in your pocket.

Tag List 🏷️ 🎄

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @itsemohours

@tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade-blog @boogywoogywoogy

[timmydraker]

Tim doesn’t drink coffee, but he drinks tea.

So, so much tea.

He’s not a casual tea drinker, he doesn’t just have a stash of sugar and earl grey at his desk with a few mugs at the ready.

No, Timothy Drake has over sixteen seperate kettles and tea sets in his room. Some are china, some are vintage, some are shaped like flowers or frogs or painted with a Vincent Van Gogh style over it. Some only have one cup and saucer, some have enough for a tea party. Some are so old they’re are chipped and faded. Some are so new they haven’t been used and are still set up nicely in a display case.

That’s just the carrier of the tea, but the flavours he has on hand…

He has English breakfast, he has Merlot, he had Green Tea, Herbal, Black Current, Lemon, Chamomile, Honey, Mint, Butterfly Pea, African Solstice, Cherry, Chocolate, everything! If you can think of it or have heard of it somewhere before, he has it.

Every knows that he drinks the, they see him with a cup near constantly and he even has a keep cup for when he’s patrolling.

But not even knows exactly how deep his obsession goes.

Alfred does, because he once had to listen to Tim talk about how you can’t rank read through taste alone but also process and how it works with sugar and milk and sweetener after the older man made the mistake of saying he thought English Breakfast was best.

Bruce knows because he once threatened to confiscate Tim’s tar strainers if he didn’t get some rest and witnessed how hard Tim Drake can tweak firsthand.

Barbara knows because she once accidently broke a cup when she backed into a table with her chair and, while Tim was understanding it was an accident, she had to watch him go through the stages of grief in real time. The kid had openly mourned the cup that had been shaped like an apple as if it was a loved one and she swore not to touch them again lest she cause another funeral.

Yet, even though not even has seen the dozens of cases and cabinets he has to organise his tea leaves and dishes, there is one thing that everyone has a deep understanding of.

If Tim lets you use a cup, he sees you as someone to trust. He thinks you’re reliable and trustworthy enough to touch something fragile and valuable to him.

But if he serves you tea himself, from his own personal collection?

You aren’t just loved by him, you aren’t just his family, but you have single handedly gained one of the biggest allies you will ever have.

[luludeluluramblings]

Based on this concept...

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Weddingplanner!Reader trying to help Selina find the perfect wedding dress.

Weddingplanner!Reader: You know, usually it’s just the bridesmaids and the bride’s family that help with this. Not the entire wedding party and the damn groom.

Weddingplanner!Reader glaring at the entire Bat Family sitting next to a bored Ivy and a chortling Harley.

Weddingplanner!Reader: It’s just bad luck and all. Besides everyone that’s not going to buy a dress should probably leave so the other patrons could have a chance to shop.

Cue EVERYONE trying on dresses and kicking the other patrons out of the store.

Jason and Cassandra helping each other with black gowns and veils so they can pretend to be Victorian widows in mourning.

Barbara pausing her attempt to blackmail Damian into a dress to glare at Dick who is absolutely rocking a mermaid silhouette gown.

Stephanie making a pile of the most expensive and avant-garde dresses she can find while searching for the sluttiest dress in the store. Then shoving Tim in the thing, leaving him to fear for the exposure of his dangly bits.

Bruce running around like a headless-chicken to grab every dress Selina thinks would look good on Weddingplanner!Reader because the couple wants them to feel included too.

Weddingplanner!Reader having no choice but to go along with it because they have to keep the bride and groom happy.

Harley cackling in delight at the chaos while Ivy drinks champagne straight from the bottle.

Duke getting sent pictures of the whole thing while on daytime patrol and laughing his ass off. (While feeling mildly jealous.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Not dead! Just busy as balls. I have small children that are extremely excited about Christmas and have had a lot on my plate. (Plus, writing Pregnant!Reader made my baby fever spike bad. But, I think it has passed.) I can't give an estimate on things right now, but I'm gonna try to get it out. Hopefully this gives y'all a little somethin' somethin'.