#why is allen standing like that..

[looney-mooney]

Just finished watching season 3 episode 4 of Invincible. Severely disappointed by the lack of Omniman/Allen the Alien fanfiction on AO3

[tacagen]

one of the things that fascinate me about thawne: yes, he CAN be normal with kids! surprisingly normal!

((not at all times, though. his mental illness still spills through and as usual he, in trying to manipulate or hurt others, spits out at them the exact stuff that would hurt him (or have in his childhood/barry's rejection interpretation) the most in the first place lmao))

but at the same time. his like second instinct when doing his bullshit is FUCK THEM (as) KIDS

(and, well. whatever this classifies as)

[qlala]

so i think the best way to do a coldflash au of the greatest musical of our time, mamma mia, would be—yes i’m aware it’s 3 a.m., why do you ask—

anyway, the best way to do it would be like, a morbid dark comedy take on it where barry’s not trying to find his father, he’s trying to find the person who framed his father. for his mother’s murder. so he’s like ‘okay i’ve reviewed all the case notes, and i’ve narrowed it down to these three men. also, unrelated, iris and eddie, you don’t mind if i invite three people to your wedding last-minute, right?’

and the three men can be like, harrison wells, eobard thawne, and of course, leonard snart

and barry has sophie’s protagonist attitude of “i’ll just know which one it is when i see him,” except obviously, he doesn’t. harrison wells is an asshole, eobard thawne is a creepy asshole, and leonard snart is… flirting with him?

(i have zero notes on the “does your mother know that you’re out” scene from the mamma mia! movie. just do that again, but angrier, because barry isn’t sure if len is taunting him over his mother’s death or just poking fun at their age gap. but it should be exactly as horny)

len would be the first to catch on to what’s going on, because he knows doc allen from iron heights and puts it together, and he would be impressed at what a ballsy idea it was if he wasn’t too busy being mad at barry for what a stupid fucking idea it was instead, inviting the man who killed his mother to a wedding he’s in, to what? give him a shot at slitting barry’s throat in his sleep next?

if that happens, iris will probably cancel this wedding that len fully intends on crashing, so naturally his only option is to follow around iris’s very stupid, very cute best man for the next three days, just to keep him from getting murdered by whichever of the other two men did kill his mother. and, since that includes the previously-mentioned threat of barry getting killed in his sleep, well… he’ll just have to talk his way into barry’s bed so he can keep an eye on him overnight, too

[thewhizzyhead]

I know the reunion concert was literally just 2 days ago but my bros my guys my dudes I miss WATT so so much and I really do want this show Actually Revived because I miss my cheerleaders, pma's stories and music are fucking great and I wanna hear more, watt has so much room for improvement, and I wanna see watt thrive aaaaaaaa

[andrewsleftarmband]

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else point this out but Mary liked exy too. In like chapter three of tfc, Neil is remembering the little league games that she took him too, and she says that it was THE ONLY TIME HE REMEMBERED SEEING HER SMILE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why does no one talk about this???? Why does no talk about the fact that the only reason Neil loves exy, and loved it as a kid was because Mary encouraged it. Look, I get it, the little league games were training for his Edgar Allen audition. But if that was all it was, she wouldn’t clap and cheer in the stands. She wouldn’t have SMILED.

Idk, this little detail is so telling to me, but I don’t think I’ve seen anyone bring it up ever.

[acid-ixx]

Sigh.. We all should've have chosen both wally and conner...i can't imagine the faces of batfam

how to be a heartbreaker! (again &. again concept)

ft. yandere! wally west, starfire, roy harper, artemis, conner kent, bart allen x gn! neglected! reader w/ platonic yandere! batfam.

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

tw: age gaps but there isn't nsfw (except for conner) and the reader is described to be older than 20 in this concept and was far ignored longer than in the og story.

a/n: happy (late) halloween! 🎃 i'm praying to the gods, please don't let this post flop, i'm in my flop era fr! because i am not writing allat for it to get ignored 💔 (just kidding i love u guys, especially to all those who comment! i read all your comments even if i'm unable to reply at times). if you guys are wondering why i didn't include all the characters, it's because this is just a drabble and if anyone likes more concepts about this, please send in asks! anyways, enjoy this sweet harem au hehe.

anon, you are so right. but let me raise you this: getting together with all your siblings' teammates. i'm not just saying wally and conner, no! i'm saying the young justice, the teen titans, all their friends and old pals— the moment you come of age, hide under the radar for a few years and eventually meet them at random. you'd be giving dick, hell, even bruce, your father, mind you, a run for his money when it comes to a player reputation amongst the siblings, and the best part (or worst part for you once it's too late...) of it all is the fact that you don't even have to keep all your little relationships with them a secret when they never once bat an eye on you until recently.

the funny thing is: you didn't even have to try to attract them. it was all them approaching you at random days and getting to know you better, with you, at your lowest point, accepting any medium of attention. at first it was them feeling pity, perceptive to how your siblings chose to focus on them rather than you, but now it's them chasing after you because you're so interesting in every aspect; even if you find yourself average at best compared to your talented siblings.

maybe it's because you bring the normal out in them, or because you display such raw emotions and are an entirely separate being from vigilantism. either way, they find themselves thinking about you more often than their missions and that's harrowing.

and because you're such a pathetic, wet cat, so desperate for love; all the people you hit on develop a savior complex because of you. i don't just mean them finding you cute, or interesting, absolutely not. i mean you're constantly being thrown around like a prince or princess who needs a knight in shining armor to catch them when they fall, except you're constantly being carried in some other's arms even when you can stand on your own two feet.

you just have that special quality in you that makes everyone fall head over heels. it makes them fantasize scenarios of a home life with you; they could provide better than your current ones do, for sure. you'd be spoiled to death with kisses to your face, hands wrapped around your body, and a guarantee that you'll never feel alone or unsafe in a world full of danger that lurks around the corner.

that same quality may have also been your downfall.

wally west doesn't mind training all day to become stronger and faster to save you from every danger that lingers near your presence. hell, he doesn't complain anymore whenever dick assigns him some missions if that means he can pass by your room by the manor as an after-mission reward, loving it when you smile at him with the gentlest quip of your mouth as he hastily wraps you in his arms with the same amount of speed it took to run to your house. wally cherishes watching you in slow-time because he could worship every little part of his darling's expression, quelling the boredom he had for the entire day. he wants to be fast enough for his babe, not only just to impress them but because he wants them to see him as the only reliable individual capable enough of protecting and flirting with you. not everyone can measure up to his speed, no? nobody could keep up with this man's speed and he's known for taking you away whenever you're with someone else just to get a sliver of your time.

starfire's emotions become ablaze and so does her powers every time she notices one of your other sweethearts becoming too touchy with you, unable to comprehend why you're not even in a relationship with her yet. but you're too sweet and you bury yourself in her curly tresses to calm her down. at first that's enough! she doesn't understand the concept of physical affection and the boundaries that come with it as much as others but boy does she crave it when it comes to you. it doesn't help the fact that you're incapable of sometimes denying her affections and letting yourself be constantly kissed by the girl in every part of your face. she's very warm, though, and her curiosity about things foreign to her, paired with you teaching her more about your world, makes starfire adore her sweetheart's willingness and patience; it simply warrants another passionate kiss in the mouth from the pink-haired alien.

roy harper brings out a more rebellious side of you that you never imagine yourself sporting. his experiences in life and his rebellious relationship towards oliver queen, his adoptive father shapes him to who he is now; and he'd be damned if you drown yourself in endless misery like he did. yeah, it doesn't help that lian loves you as much as he does and he thinks you're the perfect match for him, watching you play with his little girl and care for him whenever he's injured does wonders for the fantasies that plays itself in his head, all scenarios of coming home to you after a hard day of work, just to see you and lian greet him the moment he enters your shared house with him, kissing him in the lips, telling him about the wonderfully prepared dinner you and lian whipped up for him, and watching your eyes widen at another bouquet of your favorite flowers he bought home for you. you're not in a relationship with him at all but can't a man just dream?

why dick wonders every damn time one of his friends ditch another one of their hangouts is a question never to be answered. but it's been noticeable these days that he's starting to suspect something wrong at play, especially since he's noticed tension within his comrades, and as a leader he couldn't just simply ignore the tense glares, insults to their being, and the hushed whispers; all pet names, a mantra they're used to calling you.

but dick doesn't take it seriously until it's too late.

that his baby bird long fell off the nest years ago, taken into the arms of whom he thought to be his most trusted comrades, thoroughly loved more than he could've given you. and it's not just one person smitten with you; it's an entire harem of people unwilling to share you just as much as dick who'd soon realize that he shares far more similarities with you; a heartbreaker, yet a caretaker at heart.

it's no wonder why everybody wants you for themselves. it's not only your family who loves to hear your precious laughs and gentle hands; that sets the jealousy ablaze in his heart.

jason never thought that artemis carried a softer version of her. but he's been picking up telltale signs of her donning dangling keychains, all cute doodles of her no doubt, and necklaces he's sure he's seen around the manor at times. it's not her typical style, and she never really found the appeal with cute things like crochet plushies of her; yet the designs are oddly reminiscent to someone he always called his angel. but whenever he tries to bring the topic up, he only receives a snarky reply, a protective hold on her things, and a familiar phrase telling him to mind his business. he isn't aware of how she met you one time after you've nearly been crushed to death by a car accelerating at you, if not for her taking the blunt end of the hit. ever since that day you've been seeing her regularly by alleyways watching over you as your guardian and giving her tokens of appreciation, albeit small, that she keeps as her prized properties; ones nobody has special access to touch. she's not much of a heckler for physical touch, but she occasionally gives you a head scratches and the rare peck to your lips.

jason doesn't like how jealous he is towards her, because of how the would-be stranger treats her and why he can't seem to pinpoint the primal urge to rip those little trinkets from her. sometimes he feels like a man possessed, eyeing the keychains and the random pastel bracelets longer, all warranting the same angered glare artemis reciprocates.

he swore he's seen them before, splayed across the random rooms in the manor, some even being in the library; things he loved to fiddle with whenever he was bored out of his mind. so seeing them being proudly displayed by artemis triggers visceral reactions within him.

but could jason do anything about it when he's part of the reason why your roster consists of your family's comrades? no.

if you couldn't get attention from your family, you'll just have to get it through their affiliations. yeah, some are older than you, but god are you treated like divinity with just how willing they are to kneel upon your feet just to gain a crumb of your attention. even the strongest lay weak whenever you look at them with disappointment or sadness with your wide, captivating eyes.

all the times tim drake would be with teammates, he'd notice how their eyes look at him expectantly, as if waiting for another one to accompany them. at first he ignores it, but the longer their strange behavior persists, he begins opening a case about his close friends.

he soon realizes that conner has a record of mentioning "his cute little darling," and how he'd brag to his other friends about how left his jacket and all his favorite t-shirts in your room and how you're always drowning in his scent— always quiping about just how much it smells like you and how he enjoys wearing all his clothes right after you wear them just to get a whiff of your presence in his life; you being his motivation to fight against crime just so he could see your pretty face and tell him you're proud of him. undeniably, he's the one who spends the longest time with you and he's prideful about it, being the only man with the privilege to touch every part of your skin, wishing to melt against you just so he'd be branded in your body like how your name is the only sweet thing he can taste in his mouth.

it's not only conner, but bart allen would bounce around more often demanding that it's unfair how conner gets everything and how he gets little time with you, with just how often you get thrown around by all your love interests! he'd admit just how cute he finds you whenever you coo about him and play with his messy locks of hair whenever it's his time of the week to visit you right after missions. spending time with him is arguably the most casual part of your life, because he loves to help you with your daily errands despite him complaining about the same tasks to his other teammates... he says it's because you stimulate every part of his brain to find satisfaction in every small action that you do, but it's not only that, rather, he wishes to gain all your praises that you sing for him, never finding boredom in your presence at all.

tim's the first one who pieces the jigsaw puzzle together, but he's thoroughly astounded either way at just how smitten they are with you. it makes him open an entirely different case that's just about you; where he discovers how you're connected with nearly everyone close to him and his siblings.

it makes him wonder what makes you all the more interesting. it's how exactly he spirals into a periodic cluster of events investigating your entire life and drowning himself in work, terabytes of files each analyzed carefully— all about you, your past, and present situation. tim drake never saw a person this admired that much, so much so that online stalking lead to physical stalking.

all your dm's are spammed by countless people, and you don't even take the initiative to reply because you'd be too busy being tossed around by the time the vigilante tracks your location. it's honestly amusing at first but the longer tim become a third perspective to your life, the more he craves your physical presence, just to get a taste of dissecting all the thoughts in your brain. but with just how often their friends fight over you, it'd be hard to rip you away from the clawing hands of all your admirers.

that's why he sets a plan into motion. if he couldn't have you to himself, then he could at least share you with the closest people he had in his life— not with all the strangers who think they know his younger sibling better than he does.

a simple document, many actually, so documents, were all he needed, with printed stacks of a4 paper compiling each and every known fact about you.

all in the name of love, he'd give it out to every member of the family in quick succession.

a hefty reminder to take back what once was theirs.

[queenbrucewayne]

Lunch Room

Summary: little babble of team cuteness about Batman & Y/n.

“He’s pouting.”

Barry Allen leaned toward Clark, nodding his head toward the far end of the cafeteria. Across the room, Batman—sat alone, untouched tray of food in front of him, tapping a slow rhythm on the table with one gloved finger.

Clark glanced over, then went back to eating. “He looks the same as always.”

“Nope.” Barry squinted, eyes narrowing. “Something’s different. He’s brooding harder than usual.”

“You sure that’s even possible?”

Before Barry could answer, Green Lantern slid onto the bench across from them, carrying a tray of his own.

“If you’re so curious, maybe try asking him,” he said with a smirk.

Barry recoiled slightly. “Oh no. I enjoy living.”

“Hey, boys,” Diana greeted as she approached, settling beside Clark. “What’s going on?”

Clark chuckled, gesturing toward Bruce with his fork. “Barry thinks Batman’s off his game today.”

Diana glanced over. Bruce hadn’t moved much. Still tapping. Still brooding.

“Oh,” she said casually. “That’s probably about Y/n.”

The three men turned to her in unison, stunned.

John raised a brow. “Care to explain?”

Diana blinked, surprised to be the center of attention. “What? I just meant he likes her. Has for months. It’s kind of obvious. And… sad, honestly.”

Barry choked. “Batman doesn’t like people. He doesn’t pine. He’s Batman. If he wanted someone, he’d just—brood at them until they fell in love.”

Diana raised an amused brow, lips twitching at the corners.

Before she could respond, the cafeteria door slid open and Y/n walked in. As if drawn by gravity, she made a straight path to Bruce’s table, sitting across from him. His posture shifted slightly at her arrival—nothing overt, but noticeable enough if you were watching for it.

Which, of course, all four of them were.

Barry leaned toward Clark again, whispering like a child desperate for gossip. “Hey. Use your super hearing. Tell us what they’re saying.”

Clark shook his head, eyes wide. “That’s an invasion of privacy!”

“Oh, come on! Don’t act like you’re not curious.”

Clark hesitated. Then sighed, rubbing his palms before focusing. “They’re just… talking about the mission they had last night.”

He paused.

“Wait. They had a mission last night?”

John smirked. “Maybe ‘mission’ is code.”

Barry slapped the table. “Exactly! It was a date! And now he’s nervous because she hasn’t said anything yet!”

Diana rolled her eyes. “You’re all reading too much into this.”

“Reading into what?”

The voice came from behind. The group turned to see Y/n standing there with her lunch tray, brows raised in mild amusement.

Silence.

Clark cleared his throat. “We were just… discussing Bruce’s behavior. He’s been a little... off.”

Y/n glanced toward Bruce’s table, considering. “He seems fine to me.”

“You don’t think he’s acting different?” John asked.

She shrugged and sat beside Diana. “Maybe I’ll ask him about it at dinner tonight.”

Barry choked on his food, coughing violently. “WHAT?!”

John looked just as surprised. “He asked you to dinner?”

“No.” Y/n casually popped a piece of fruit into her mouth. “I asked him.”

The table fell completely still.

Y/n noticed the shift in energy and raised a brow. “What?”

Barry was the first to recover. “We just… can’t believe he said yes.”

She frowned. “Why?”

Diana stepped in smoothly. “We’re just surprised Bruce would… take time to date. Especially someone on the team.”

“Exactly!” Barry piped in, zipping to her side. “You’re fun and stylish and smile like… all the time. He’s… you know, Batman.”

Y/n laughed. “He’s not so bad.”

John chuckled. “Maybe if Barry didn’t bug him every hour, he’d be nicer to him too.”

“I am a delight to be around,” Barry declared proudly.

John squinted. “Who told you that?”

“Iris,” Barry said smugly.

Y/n smirked. “She doesn’t count.”

Barry slouched dramatically. “I came here to save lives, not be roasted.”

“So dramatic,” Diana muttered.

Barry perked up. “So, Y/n. What’s the plan? Romantic rooftop dinner? Candlelit cave patrol? Maybe a Wayne gala?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “None of your business.”

Barry ignored her. “Oh! Take him bowling! No, laser tag! Wait—roller skating!”

Y/n pretended to think. “What else do you think he’d enjoy?”

Barry leaned in, completely oblivious. “He seems like a classical theater kind of guy. Maybe opera. You think he owns a pipe?”

A low, gravelly grunt sounded behind him.

Barry froze. Eyes widened. “Please tell me he’s not behind me.”

John didn’t even look. “You’ve got about three seconds.”

Barry turned his head slowly. Bruce stood over him, arms crossed, expression unreadable and terrifying.

Barry vanished in a streak of red lightning.

Silence fell over the table.

Clark chuckled. “Worth it.”

Bruce didn’t say a word, but the glare lingered.

Y/n bit her lip to keep from laughing. “We were just talking about opera,” she offered innocently.

Bruce arched an eyebrow.

Y/n shrugged. “I told them it’s not your thing.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then turned and walked away.

Y/n waited a beat before grinning down at her food.

Barry peeked around the corner from across the room, clearly traumatized. "Is he gone now?"

"Your safe Barry... for now." Y/n chuckled.

Barry went back to his seat, letting out as sigh of relief, he continued to eating the rest of his lunch.

Y/n felt a buzz come from her phone. Looking down at it, she could help but smile.

Perhaps we can try opera after dinner next week.

Tag: @christianbalefanatic @importantenemypeanut

[bookshelf-dust]

promise to take care of my heart

carmy berzatto x fem!reader

gif by @emziess

word count: 1,830

warnings: nothing? a little swearing, but this is pure fluff and that’s all

synopsis: carmy wants to cuddle with you for the first time.

a/n: hi! new character, i know. but i’ve become rather attached to carm in the past few months and i had a cute idea for him and here we are. he’s bringing me so much comfort right now and now i’m gonna share that with you <333

————

“Why don’t you pick out a movie or somethin,’ bub?” 

“If I could find your damn remote, Carm, I would.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, eyes on his hands where they sit deep in the dishwater below. Good luck, he thinks. 

You scan the coffee table, the rug below the shabby couch. It’s not like there’s any use checking the tv stand because it’s still a fucking table tray. You know he doesn’t even own the full set of four table trays? He’s just got the one? That knowledge keeps you up at night. Just like how he doesn’t have a ceiling fan pull and has to get tweezers to change the speed.

You find the remote nestled in a stack of freshly organized books. You helped Carmen assemble a very simple bookshelf so that his stash of cookbooks wouldn’t have to live on the floor anymore. 

Just getting to help him turn his apartment into something other than a place to sleep brought you a contagious giddiness. Carmen’s chest aches with how much he’s laughed since he met you. 

Look at all my muscles, Carm. I’m practically ready for my dick now, don’t you think? 

Where’d you even get these? He’d looked down at the little allen wrench in your hand and said I don’t know, they were just here one day. 

Now you have a bookshelf, Bear. What a grown up. 

Carmen wouldn’t let you help him with the dishes after he cooked you dinner. He’d just kissed your shoulder and said, “Let me take care of it, alright?” with that little raise of his brows and quirk of his lips telling you not to argue because you’d never win. 

And when Carmen tells you to let him take care of something, well…you listen. 

You haven’t been dating very long, but it’s been enough that you’ve both developed this rhythm, this way of moving around and with each other and you just…work. 

He doesn’t understand how you can dial his shyness, his hesitance, so quickly, how you can make him feel like a human again so easily. But you do. 

You settle against the back of the couch, flipping through the tv guide (because Carm has never subscribed to any streaming services) until you find something worth listening to. It’s already a few minutes in, but you’ve seen the movie enough times that it doesn’t really matter. 

The overhead light in the kitchen switches off and Carmen pads out to the living room, socked feet dragging on the hardwoods. Your biggest pet peeve is people who don’t pick up their feet, but somehow it’s more tolerable when it’s him. 

He sits down on the edge of the couch. Just sits. On the edge. That means he wants to say something. You give him the time to psych himself up. 

Carmy chews on his thumb nail and rubs his nose before he turns to you, placing his hand on the couch. His blue eyes burn into yours, and the intensity of his gaze, trained on you, makes you feel like the most important person in the world. 

“H-hey, um…can we—could we snuggle, maybe?” He flushes at the fact that he just used the world snuggle. Richie would have his ass so quick if he’d heard him say that. 

Your grin is brilliant. You’ve never cuddled properly with Carmen before. Maybe a head on a shoulder or a leg tossed across another, but never a real cuddle session. “Fuck yeah, we can, Carm.” You giggle and the sound softens that bubble of fear in his chest. 

He bites the inside of his cheek, letting out the barest laugh. 

“How did you want t-to lay, Bear?” You blink at him. “Were you just gonna—” 

He starts to nod. “I was just gonna lay on your chest, honestly.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that works.”

“Y-yeah.”

You snort. “Lemme’ stretch out for you and then you can be a teddy bear.” 

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” Carmen shakes his head at you. He lets you pull that shit because he likes it. Secretly.

When you have a pillow under your neck and are laid out on your back, Carm slips beside you against the back of the couch and clumsily settles on top of you. He doesn’t want to crush you or anything, so he settles between your legs, only allowing the weight of his torso to envelop you. 

One arm wraps around your back, the other cradling your hip, his curls brushing your chin. He turns his head to face the tv and lets out a satisfied sigh. 

On instinct your hand threads through his tangled hair, scratching at his scalp gently and sorting through any piece that feels knotted. 

“What is this?” Carmy asks, nodding in the direction of the screen. 

“The Wedding Planner. It has Jlo and Matthew McConaughey in it.” 

“Chick flick?”

You hum in agreeance. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t hate it. Jlo’s character is like you but if the restaurant was a wedding planning business and you were, you know, a chick.”

He laughs lightly against your stomach and you can feel the puff of air over your shirt. 

The weight of Carmen’s body on top of yours is easily the most calming feeling you’ve ever experienced. You can’t get enough of him. 

“This okay?” you ask, scratching his scalp a little more for emphasis. This is a new way of showing affection. Uncharted territory. 

“Hm?” He looks up at you briefly, blue eyes fluttering closed. “Oh yeah, feels nice. I like it.”

You grin and continue to play with his hair. He’s right. It does feel nice. It is. 

The next few minutes go by without any conversation, just silence. But it’s so comfortable. Carmen’s tired gaze is on the tv. You can feel him breathing, feel the way he scratches over your back absently. You don’t know if he’s aware he does it, but he nuzzles his nose against the soft of your stomach every now and then like it’s keeping him safe. 

“You know I thought about being a wedding planner?”

Carmy pushes up onto his elbows, looking at you with the smallest smirk playing on his lips. “Really?”

You playfully bat at his shoulder and he moves to lay back down, but not before pressing a kiss to your sternum over your shirt. “Mhm. Still think about it sometimes.” You pause, but Carm doesn’t say anything yet because he knows you aren’t finished with that thought. 

“I guess I just thought it’d be nice to help put things like that together? The organization would make me feel…complete, I guess. And you know I don’t like to help people in such an extroverted way? I like to be behind the scenes.” You laugh, a little self-deprecatingly. “Does that make sense?”

Carmen squeezes your side. “‘Course it does. And then you could come home and tell me stories about all the family drama you eavesdrop on.”

You giggle, and Carmy loves that he can feel it where he lays on your chest. He can feel your joy, and that’s fucking cool. “That I could.”

He rubs your back in small, gentle circles. “And you know, I happen to have some friends who make pretty good food and would be happy to help if you ever needed.”

“Oh, do you? Well, that’s very helpful, Mr. Berzatto. You’ll have to give me their number.”

Carmy laughs into your chest. A pure, genuine laugh. It’s such a beautiful sound, and you truly think you’d have it tattooed all over your body if that was even remotely possible. His glee makes you laugh, and then you’re both snickering like you’re teenagers doing something that’ll get you in big trouble. 

You reach for his hand, the one that’s resting on your hip now, and he lets you lift it towards your face. He bites his cheek, fighting the smile that rises when you press your warm and chapstick covered lips to his knuckles. 

“You have such pretty hands, Carmy.”

He pinches your back. “I still don’t get why you’re so fascinated by them.”

“Because they’re pretty. And, look—” You hold yours up to his. “—they’re so much bigger than mine. And I like your tattoos, obviously. I like that I know how talented you are with your hands and how capable. I’m very lucky to hold such capable hands, Bear.”

“Capable, huh?” He gives you a look, one that makes you want to both tackle him and smack him on the arm. Instead you roll your eyes and he raises up to kiss you. 

“Capable of being the world’s biggest pain in the ass.”

Carmy laughs. It’s that little chuckle, light and airy and like he can’t believe what he’s hearing but he wants to hear more anyway. He flops back down on your chest, making you let out a rather loud oomph. 

You take Carmen’s hand in yours again, rubbing over the dry patches on his knuckles, the scabs on the insides of his fingers, the scar on his palm. His whole life is written in these hands. 

You start massaging the pads of his fingers without even thinking about it. No one’s ever been that gentle with him—definitely not with his hands—and a little part of him melts at the feeling. 

You kiss the tattoo on the back of his hand and just look at his skin. You’re determined to memorize each line and freckle and fucked up cuticle he’s got. 

“At least your nails don’t look like Richie’s, Carm.”

His chest moves with the giggle that travels throughout his body. 

“Trust me, they didn’t look like that when he was still with Tiff.”

You grin, your eyes falling back on the television. Maybe Carm would be open to setting it on the bookshelf? That table tray has put in a lot of work. It deserves a break. 

Carmen can see why you’re so fond of this movie. It’s one of those that doesn’t require much thought, that has humor and feels more human than most. He knows he shouldn’t think it, but you having said what you said before makes him wonder if you’ll plan your own wedding…with him. 

Shut the fuck up, he tells himself. But maybe we’ll get there. 

You catch him smiling when they fuck up the statue in the garden and pretend not to notice. You both keep quiet now, but Carm reaches up and puts your hand back on his head.

Your fingers thread through his curls again, scratching at his scalp gently. Your other hand does the same thing to his back. You know it’s going to lull him to sleep. 

When you say it, he’s already dozed off. But you are so happy that you get to make him feel safe. That he’s comfortable enough to sleep on you like this. Lucky is an understatement. 

“Thank you for letting me in, Bear. I don’t think my life has ever been this beautiful.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[nightwngz]

Food for thought: hal jordan and barry Allen sandwich.

Like imagine hal flat out degrading you while barry is up in your ear praising you for doing so good but only increasing the speed of his fingers.

Another side note, misuse of speedforce powers and misuse of the ring in the bedroom? 👀👀 sign me up.

-🌾 anon

— 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 !! ♡⃝ eng.

hal jordan 𝒙 fem!reader 𝒙 barry allen

✶ | warnings. . . porn without plot, smut. fingering. dirty talk, praising kink and degradation. nipple play. biting.

✶ | language. . . english is not my first language and I tend to make mistakes, so I apologize in advance.

✶ | note. . . hey anon, I hope you like this. I am so bad at answering asks but I keep trying hahaha.

It might have been your fault, though you weren’t entirely sure. You weren’t completely certain if what you were doing was right, but the mix of Barry's gentle sweetness and Hal's roughness created a bittersweet obsession, both in bed and in your relationship.

Barry loved to be gentle and affectionate. Even as he curled his fingers inside your hole, arching your back, his attention to detail was unmatched. He enjoyed watching you delight in his caresses, especially when he used his powers to vibrate his fingertips at high speed, touching you in that sensitive spot inside you while whispering, "God, honey, you're doing so good. Always so beautiful.”

Hal, on the other hand, was never known for his kindness to you; he enjoyed rubbing your clit with his ring until he made you cry, then laughing at you for it. He would tease Barry for pampering you and trying to make you feel good with his words, whispering in your ear, “You must be the only slut who can take being humiliated and flattered at the same time just to get fucked. How disgusting.”

Although they are very different, they both agree on how to please you. Even as Barry goes out of his way to remind you how beautiful you are and how much he enjoys the feel of your pussy squeezing his fingers, he increases the speed in a way that even your best vibrator couldn't match.

And Hal, with some competitive intent, rubs your clit harder, not caring if you're a little sensitive. He can't stand Barry hogging the spotlight just because he's faster, so he starts kissing your neck with some aggression, whispering in your ear, determined to charm you with his degrading words.

They see you crying on the bed as you writhe, and it only fuels them. You can even feel their lips curl into a smile as they hear your moans fill the room. Through your tears, you murmur barely intelligible prayers: "More, please, don't stop. I'm so close, so close.”

Hal nibbled gently on your neck while he used his free hand to spread your thighs, trying to keep you from closing your legs. Meanwhile, Barry searched for the most vulnerable spot on you, running his thumbs deftly over your nipples. The intensity of the moment made your cheeks blush so red that you hid on the brown-haired man's shoulder to hide your embarrassment.

Hal laughed softly. "Why the sudden embarrassment, doll? Who knew you'd have a hint of shame all over your body with two of Barry's fingers buried in your little hole?” But the blonde looked at him disapprovingly for laughing at you. 'Don't tease, Hal. She's extremely sensitive in that area, aren't you, honey?’

But you could not react. Barry's gentleness and Hal's roughness in taking care of you were so different that they created a strange mixture of sensations in your body. This combination brought you close to orgasm in an addictive way, and when you realized it, you couldn't help but enjoy it.

[halitis]

dc characters as canines/felines!!

so these are obvi just my thoughts.... and most of these will be domesticated, as i think only those of high standing tend to be like. Big cats and wolves and stuff ;p (also fellas i promise this isnt just batfam. its actually mostly arrowfam)

hal jordan - staffy as someone who owns a staffy? this fuck ass dog is so hal coded. feral little freak with such a polite smile :]

bruce wayne - cougar okay hear me out... these guys are fucking SCARY man.... i do not like them :[ they also tend to be quite solitary creatures which i feel fits

clark kent - labrador i think they r so similar.... look at his floppy face. thats clark baby!

[continued under read more]

barry allen - whippet look at those big wet sad eyes.... look at them :[ thats barry!

bart allen - jack russel terrier "um. oh god. have you seen them do their little rat races? where they go in their barns and they chase rats into tunnels and when their owners go to pick them up they fling themselves back so they can keep looking at the rats? yeah that." - @softsadrainy my bart consultant

oliver queen - lion i think that the beard lines up with the mane and i also just think he is a very Proud man.... very liony :3

dinah lance - russian blue what a distinguished little thing! idk. i had a russian blue once and i think they are just so similiar....

roy harper - coyote friendly little guy :D they like to spar and i think they are goofy.

connor hawke - american bobtail idk. i have no reasoning. he just is.

mia dearden - german rex this is a weird breed of cat, in that they typically arent even recognised as a breed. (typically ull just see the cornish rex) but i think these guys are great! they are super smart cats, who when under-stimulated will cause chaos and are pretty playful. anyway i just love them. i think they look goofy :3

jade nguyen - norwegian forest cat i was gonna do a different cat for jade (british shorthair) but then this breed popped up on my searches and i was instantly reminded of her in the yj show. why is that actually just. her.

linda park - cocker spaniel i knew someone who had a cocker spaniel once and the dog was so incredibly funny. was a strange little thing and i loved it! so. therefore its linda. she is also a funny and strange beasst <3

wally west - german shepherd i have no idea Why but wally is absolutely german shepherd vibes. do not @ me or correct me. im right. you can argue with the wall i dont caaare!

damian wayne - cheetah look at this little beast. he's so spiky. they have it in common

[mysticalcrowntyrant]

In the oppressive atmosphere of the office, the lines between admiration and obsession blur as you navigate the unsettling attentions of Mr. Allen, your "kind" and watchful boss.

The fluorescent lights flicker overhead as the clock ticks toward nine. Papers are strewn across your desk, remnants of a project that should have ended last week, but your mind is too tangled in other thoughts. The notes left for you—always kind, always eerily personalized—have turned your home into a maze of paranoia. You shudder at the memory of the last one, hidden under your pillow, its sweet words twisted into something sinister.

You had hoped the late hours would give you a chance to breathe, to collect yourself, but instead, the silence amplifies your fears. With every creak of the building settling, every rustle of a passing breeze, your heart races. You glance at the door, half-expecting someone to enter, someone who knows too much about your life, your habits.

Finally, the dam breaks. Tears stream down your face as you bury your head in your arms, the frustration and fear crashing over you like a tidal wave. This isn’t just about the notes; it’s the feeling of being watched, of someone lurking in the shadows of your life, always just out of sight. You’re too drained to care if anyone sees you like this, the weight of your vulnerability becoming unbearable.

Footsteps echo softly down the hall, and you stiffen, wiping your eyes furiously. But it’s too late. The door swings open, and there stands Mr. Allen, your boss.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice a soothing balm in the tense air. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” He steps closer, and you can’t hide the tremor in your hands.

“It’s okay,” you manage to choke out, but your voice cracks. He notices, of course, his brow furrowing deeper.

“Really, it’s not okay. What’s wrong?” He approaches you cautiously, as if afraid to startle a wild animal. You want to wave him off, to tell him you’re fine, but the truth sits heavy on your tongue. Instead, you break again, the sobs coming in jagged waves.

Before you can think, Mr. Allen is at your side, his hand resting gently on your back. “Hey, it’s alright,” he murmurs. “You’re safe here.” He pulls you into his arms, and you let yourself lean into him, the warmth of his body contrasting with the chill that has settled in your bones. You sob into his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt absorbing your tears.

“There’s so much… I just don’t know what to do,” you admit, your voice muffled. His grip tightens as he rubs your back in slow, soothing circles, each movement filled with a tenderness that makes you feel comforted.

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” he whispers. “I’m here for you.” His words hang in the air, an unspoken promise that sends a shiver down your spine.

As the sobs begin to subside, you feel his fingers tangling gently in your hair, brushing it back from your face. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed,” he says, his voice low and calm, like a gentle tide. “Let it all out. I’ll take care of you.”

You want to believe him. There’s a part of you that craves the comfort he offers, the promise of not being alone in this darkness. You lean into him, inhaling the subtle scent of his cologne, a mix of ambrette and jasmine that makes you feel oddly safe.

“I’m so tired,” you whisper, feeling the weight of exhaustion pull you down further.

“You’re allowed to be tired. I'll be here for you.” he replies. The conviction in his words sends a shiver through you, and you find yourself holding onto him tighter, as if he were a lifeline.

“Why do you care so much?” you ask, your voice barely audible. His eyes darken for a brief moment.

“Because you matter to me,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You’re special. And I’ll always be here for you.” His embrace tightens, enveloping you in a cocoon.

You let out a shuddering breath, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly as he continues to rub your back, his fingers moving in rhythmic patterns that soothe your frayed nerves. “Just breathe,” he murmurs. “In and out. Let it go.”

With each deep breath, you start to feel a little lighter. You let your guard down, allowing the comfort of his presence to seep into your bones. “Thank you,” you finally say, your voice barely a whisper.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he replies softly, his hand still gently caressing your back. “I want to do this for you. You deserve to be taken care of.”

His words wrap around you like a warm blanket, and for a fleeting moment, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he is the answer to your fears. As you pull back to look into his eyes, you see that familiar softness, that unwavering gaze that seems to pierce right through you. “You really mean it?” you ask, searching for reassurance.

“Always,” he replies, a smile creeping onto his lips, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And I’ll always be here, watching over you.”

As you lean into him, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence, he smiles softly, waiting for the moment you will trust him completely, for the moment you will allow him to be everything you need—without question, without fear.

My Masterlist

[moonchild9350]

Chosen One

Pairing: Angel Felix x fab reader

Genre: fantasy au, romance au, angst, smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: dubcon, stalking (in a sense), coercion, oral sex (f receiving), god awful amount of kissing, dry humping, nipple play, p in v penetration, creampie (don't), squirting, cum tasting/swapping, big cock felix,

Notes: this is sort of a continuation of a previous fic I did. You do not have to read the other one in order to read this one as they are stand alone. But, if you'd like to do so, you can here. Anyway, spooktober continues! the ending is sorta up to interpretation.

If you enjoyed this, consider a like, reblog, or comment as it makes my day ♡

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." -Edgar Allen Poe

Felix arrived in front of a tall, golden door, the frame so high he had to crane his head back to see the end of it. He took a deep breath, placing a hand over his heart, willing it to slow. He pushed open the door, pushing with all his might, grunting as the large door creaked and groaned, slowly opening with his effort.

He was summoned here by his master, for "a little talk." Whatever that meant. Once inside, Felix brushed off his hands on his gown and walked to the throne that sat at the end of the hall, eyeing the man seated there. The walk seemed long, each step ringing out in the empty room. He could have teleported to the throne, but he felt odd using his powers in front of such an all mighty being.

Once there, his master smiled and opened his mouth, his voice projecting loudly, each word enunciated so Felix would not misinterpret his message.

"Felix, you are needed on the mortal plane, to help out a girl who is contributing to the chaos of the cosmos. Make her happy however you need to."

Felix listened intently, his eyes large at the request. He finally received a mission, something he hasn't been granted in his thousands of years being here. Felix nodded and bowed, humbly accepting the quest before turning on his heels and making his way to the large door once more.

He needed to get to get back to his quarters where he can look upon his conquest. He must succeed if not for himself but for the peace of the cosmos as well.

--

Once in his quarters, Felix walked to the middle of his room and waved his hands, watching as the air rippled until a picture came into focus. He gazed into the depths, his eyes darting to and fro until he found who he was looking for.

There he saw you, his assignment, to help change the cosmos. He watched as you sat on the couch next to a man, your arms wrapped around his waist as you looked lovingly into his eyes. He smiled at the prospect of love, his lips turning upwards at the sight. He wondered why he was assigned to you, as everything seemed good, you seemed happy.

It didn't take long until he found the reason why. He watched as turmoil fell upon you, the arguments, the uncertainty. He watched as you locked yourself away, crying in the darkness, asking for things to change. That you would give anything for things to not be as they were.

But what confused him even more, was how in the next moment you would be happy again, smiling, laughing, loving, with your boyfriend, as if nothing happened the day before or the day before that. He couldn't understand the magnitude of your emotions, what went through you mind as you experience the rollercoaster called life.

Felix saw you through the depths, watching as misfortune found you again and again. He continued to watch as you screamed and cursed, your face and your actions a mixture of anger and sadness.

He felt something stir in his heart, a feeling he's never felt before. It was almost suffocating, but not in a bad way. He felt as if he couldn't breath, his heart rapidly beating as his eyes trailed you, watched you day after day.

His heart took pity on you, and the cruel fate life had dealt to you. He felt he needed to change that, after all it was his duty. But, he felt like there was something more, that he was destined for you in this deep expanse we call the cosmos.

That was the first year that he watched you.

From that day on, he made sure to watch you, to see if you had healed or was trying to heal, to see if life had dealt you a different hand. He was dismayed to see you worse than before. You seemed exhausted and on your last leg. Your eyes seemed dull, your face pale in comparison to before. You had lost that lust for life.

That was the first time he decided to visit you on the mortal plane. He took you under his wing, showering you with love and care, making you feel as if you were the only thing that mattered...and to him you were.

After your encounter, he saw that you were happier, your smile reaching your beautiful eyes once more. Felix was happy that he was able to help, to give you a part of him that will live within you forever, that would light your heart aflame. You thought he was but a dream, an apparition come to grace your dreams and fill them with happiness.

He was far from it however. Instead he was an ethereal being, living within the cosmos, his task to watch the mortals below, and in this case you, and ensure they followed the path of their dreams and ultimately happiness.

Felix continued to keep tabs on you, as you went through life, your days filled with happiness which slowly turned to despair. Felix was torn once more, his heart sinking at your plight. This time he watched as your heart was torn in two, as you experienced betrayal by the closest people in your life.

He thought you deserved more, seeing through the tough facade you wore, knowing that you had the sweetest core beneath the mask. Felix wanted nothing more than to help you break free, to become fully who you truly are.

'Alas, it’s time I pay another visit,’ he thought. He made preparations immediately to visit the mortal realm once more and ultimately you.

You were having a shit week which was nothing new. Life seemed to throw curveballs your way with no break in between, and today was no different.

You had to go pickup the last of your stuff from your ex boyfriend's apartment, a task you were dreading to do, not wanting to see the insufferable bastard. You hurried toward his apartment complex, your head down as you made your way through the throngs of people. You had your headphones in, music blaring, so you could ignore the world, wanting to get back home as soon as possible.

Stopping at a street corner, you awaited the light to signal for you to walk. You watched as cars zipped past, their speed whipping your hair in front of your face. As you moved the hair out of the way, you thought you saw someone you knew on the other side of the street.

They were standing at the edge of the sidewalk, staring straight at you. He looked at you with a smile on his face before he beckoned you over with a finger, the digit pointing and bending slowly.

You looked around to see if anyone else noticed the strange man, but everyone seemed to not notice the strange person at the other end of the street. When you looked back to where he was standing, he was…gone. You blinked your eyes once, twice, but the strange man was gone, like he disappeared in thin air. Shaking your head, thinking you were seeing things, you mad your way to the other side of the street, the light having turned green.

You had no other odd run-ins with the familiar person on your way to the complex, allowing you to make it in record time. You checked your watch and silently rejoiced, as your ex was probably still at work.

You quickly went in and grabbed your stuff and left, not giving the place you called home for the last five years a second glance. You sighed as you began your journey back to your apartment, the bags in your hands weighing you down. They weren’t heavy per se, but uncomfortable as the straps dug into your shoulders.

“Need help with that?”

You snapped your head toward the voice, a startled look on your face. There was a man standing in front of you, his hands behind his back as he stood against the building wall, staring at you.

You looked at his face, your breath catching. Your eyes wandered from his gentle, brown eyes to the hundreds of freckles lining his face, to his beautiful heart shaped lips. He looked familiar, but you had no idea where from.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you love,” the man said, his voice deep but soft like velvet.

You felt your heart quicken at the sound of his voice, the little hairs sticking up on your arms. You shook off the weird feeling you had deep down, listening to your heart instead of your gut.

“It’s ok,” you replied, giving the man a small smile.

The man smiled back and then gestured to your bags once more. You wanted to keep walking, but you felt mesmerized gazing at his beautiful face.

“Sure,” you said handing over one of your bags.

The man took the bag from you, your fingers brushing against his with the transfer, causing you to gasp and quickly pull your hand away. Turning toward the sidewalk, you watched as the man began to walk. You stared after him confused, warning bells going off in your head. How did he know you were going to continue in that direction? You could have crossed the street, as you were back at the intersection.

Ignoring all reason, you jogged to catch up, your bag swinging behind you.

“So, recent breakup?” the man asked, as he turned to look at you, curiosity on his face.

You were silent for a moment wondering how he knew.

“Uh..yeah.”

“Mmm. I’m sorry. He wasn’t a great guy though.”

You both walked in silence, as you were stunned and not sure what to say. How did he know? Does he know your ex? You really should have grabbed your bag from the man and ran, but instead you continued to walk side by side with him.

“Who are you?” you finally asked.

The man looked at you, his eyes wide at your question. However, after a moment, his features softened, his eyes taking an almost pitying look.

“I forgot you wouldn’t remember me. I’m Felix.”

Once you heard his name, you felt a warmth spread throughout you, starting in your fingertips, spreading through your arms and legs and eventually your heart, the name sparking something within you, even though you weren’t sure why.

You shivered despite the warm feeling and said, “Why would I remember you? We’ve never met…”

Felix ignored your question and continued to walk. You both walked in silence, neither breathing a word. Despite the silence, you felt at ease, feeling comfortable with your companion. It didn't take long for you both to reach your apartment.

Felix stopped and opened the door, pausing to allow you to walk through. You stepped over the threshold and made your way to your apartment. Felix smiled as you unlocked your door and opened it, revealing the dark space of your abode.

“You can just leave the bag there,” you said, pointing to the empty space by the door.

You dropped the bags you were carrying and walked to the living area, Felix right behind you. You kicked off your shoes and reclined on your couch, sinking into the pillows behind you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips.

“Thanks for your help Felix,” you said, turning your head to look at the mysterious man.

He nodded his head, a gentle smile on his face. You felt awkward, not sure what to say or do, so you continued to stare at Felix. Despite the awkward moment, you felt calm, the feeling familiar, just on the tip of your memory.

Felix looked deep into your eyes, memorizing once more the brown orbs, so beautiful in his sight. He lifted his hand to brush your cheek, watching as the warm flesh filled with red at his touch. You were beautiful, such a precious person in his life. He felt the need to care for you and show you his love.

He reached his arms out and brought you closer to him, wrapping you safely within them, feeling your body loosen in his hold. He smiled, happy that you were succumbing to his charm, just like last time.

You clutched at Felix’s shirt, breathing in his scent of vanilla…and something else you couldn’t quite place. You felt safe in his arms, the embrace familiar. As you sat there, you realized there was a picture in your mind, the scene similar to this one, almost like deja vu. The more you tried to focus and uncover the hazy picture in your mind, the more clear it became. You gasped, looking up at Felix, your eyes widened in shock.

Felix chuckled at your reaction, happy that you were finally connecting the dots. He’s awaited this moment for so long and now he finally has you again. He can finally show you his love for you.

You couldn’t look away. Your eyes were locked onto his face, as they examined the freckles that littered his cheeks, his eyes, even all the way to his ears. You thought them most beautiful, as they accentuated his beauty. Taking a breath, you lightly brushed your fingers over the little dots, tracing each one, taking in how he felt beneath your fingertips.

Every dip, crevice, or area smattered with soft peach fuzz, you admired, your heart swelling at this mans beauty. Your eyes traveled to his, startled at how he stared back at you, his pupils dilated to where the black of the center of his eye almost overshadowed the chocolate brown orb, his lips slightly parted to where you felt his breath, hot on your skin.

His gaze was almost predatory, causing you to quickly drop your hands, your eyes cast downwards so as not to see his intense gaze. He looked as if he wanted to kiss you, devour you, like an animal that hasn’t had its fill. You were slightly nervous and terrified, your heart pounding in your chest so loud, you were sure Felix heard it.

You chanced a look at his face once more, and noticed he was starting to lean closer to you, his eyes darting to your lips with each moment. Did you want to kiss this man? Your mind was telling you no, he could be dangerous, just look at his gaze. However, your heart and your body says otherwise, as you felt a deep longer within your core as your arousal slowly seeped from your pussy, coated your panties with the clear liquid.

Despite what you thought, you let yourself succumb to his charms, leaning closer, nuzzling yourself into his side as he held you tighter to his body. He slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, your soft lips melting with his. The kiss was gentle, his hand coming to cup your face as his lips continued to mold with yours.

Felix was trying to hold back and be gentle with you, as he knew you were struggling with yourself, the moment overwhelming in itself. He craved you, needed you, and has waited too long since your last encounter to taste you.

He licked your bottom lip before nipping it, shoving his tongue in your mouth as you gasped out in surprise. He deepened the kiss, muffling your moans as his tongue battled with yours. His hands were everywhere, needing to touch you, needing to feel you. You shivered with each pass of his hands, your resolve slipping with each passing second.

His hands slid lower, down your back until he reached your ass, giving the flesh a squeeze before grabbing hold of you and setting you down in his lap. You let out a yelp as your core came in contact with the bulge in his pants, your arms wrapping around his neck to anchor yourself.

You closed your eyes as Felix kissed you again, falling into the rhythm of your lips moving with his, the moment seeming so beautiful and tender, that moment of roughness gone. You felt your heart race, the incessant pounding increasing, getting louder as time passed. Your panties were soaked through as your arousal continued to steadily leak, coated the thin material.

Felix broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as your breath came out ragged as you attempted to regulate your breathing. You sat there and experimentally rocked your hips over his bulge, both of you letting out a low moan at the sensation. Felix dragged his nose against your cheek, the flesh warm against his as he placed a kiss there before traveling lower. You buried your hands in his long, blonde hair as he continued to pepper kiss after kiss down your jaw, your neck, your shoulder and…wait, when did you get undress? When did Felix get undressed?

There you sat on his lap, bare for his eyes to see. You blushed as his eyes roamed your body, his eyes raking down your neck, to your breasts, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he eyed your pebbled nipples. With his thumbs, he brushed the digits over the nubs, causing you to moan out at the pleasure that went down your spine straight to your core.

Felix smiled at your reaction before doing it again, this time letting out a deep groan as you rolled your hips, your wet pussy dragging against his thigh. His eyes traveled from your beautiful tits and down to your core, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, the thick hair donning the area, coated in your slick, to your puffy folds, with your swollen clit peaking out from the flesh.

You continued to rock your hips against him, chasing the feeling of the stimulation to your swollen clit. Your slick was dripping out of you, coating Felix’s thighs. He didn’t seem to mind though as his hands had moved to your hips, gripping your waist to help you move. You licked your lips as you rode Felix’s thigh hard and fast, that tight feeling building up within you.

Felix smirked as he watched, your tits bouncing slightly with each thrust of your hips, his hands guiding you along. You looked at him with a hooded gaze, your arms tightening around his neck as you chased your high. You were close, your chest rapidly rising and falling as your breath picked up, as you let out steady moans. You were done for as Felix looked at you and squeezed your hips, his voice deep and sultry as he commanded you to let go.

“Cum for me love, that’s it…that’s my love.”

You let out a loud moan, as you released on him, thick white slick dripping from your pussy that coated his thigh. You continued to rock your hips as you rode out your high, little whimpers falling from your lips. As you finally came down, you looked at Felix properly, blush coating your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Don’t be shy love,” Felix cooed, his fingers brushing through your hair. “You did so good for me love. Now can you ride my cock hmm? It’ll feel good, so good.”

Felix knew you could take it, take him. You’ve done it before even if you don’t remember. He needs you and he will take you, his cock twitching at the thought of being within your warmth.

You listened to Felix, uncertainty crossing your face. You looked down where his cock lay, red, angry, and thick, pre-cum steadily leaking out. He was big and you weren’t sure if you could take him. However, you looked up into his eyes and saw how they were watching you, as if he could read your thoughts.

Shivers ran down your spine as you felt Felix rub soothing circles on your hips, almost as if to console you. Making up your mind, you reached down and grasped his cock, your hand barely able to wrap around his girth. You stroked his cock a few times, listening to the breathy moans falling from his lips.

You slightly lifted your hips and brought his cock to your pussy, slowly dragging his tip through your folds. Felix stared at you the whole time, watching as you pleasured yourself with his tip, his hands coming up to play with your nipples once more.

You mewled out as Felix caressed you, bringing his cock to your entrance. With a breath, you slowly sank down on his length, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate his length. You whined as you lifted your hips up again, before bringing them down, taking more and more of his cock, until your hips were flush to his.

“See love, knew you could do it. Now fuck yourself on my cock.”

Felix raised his eyebrow, waiting for you to move. Placing your hands on his chest, you braced yourself before you began to bounce on his cock, your slick easing the glide. The sound of skin hitting skin rang throughout your living room as Felix’s cock stretched you open, your walls sucking him back in as you made your way down.

You could barely think, drool dripping down your chin, fucked out from his cock. Your eyes could barely focus, seeing the shape of Felix in front of you. You barely noticed how he lustfully gazed at your tits, watching as they bounced with each thrust, or how his eyes traveled down to where he was splitting you open, the sight of your walls stretched over his cock causing his cock to twitch.

You were close, he could tell as you began to frantically gyrate your hips, seeking any kind of friction within your walls and clit. You clenched down on his cock over and over, your breath coming out in pants.

The all too familiar feeling built within you once more, the pressure building fast and quick. You rocked your hips, swiveled them, looking to reach your high, so you could feel that sweet release you needed so bad. Your breathing increased, faster and faster until you screamed, the coil within you snapped hard, your high spreading throughout your body causing your legs to tremble, as you squirted your release, the liquid coating Felix’s thighs, your belly and Felix’s.

Felix grinned, proud of you as he watched you ride out your high. The constant squeeze of your walls against his cock triggered his own high, ropes of thick, white cum settling within you, claiming you as his.

He quickly lifted you off of his lap and laid you down on your back, spreading your legs so he could see you. He brought a finger to your pussy, gathering some of his release mixed with yours and pushing it back into you.

You watched as he smiled and bent down between your legs, your mind still fuzzy after your intense orgasm. You squealed, your legs trying to move as you felt him lick at your core, his tongue probing your walls to gather both yours and his release. His nose brushed against your clit with each thrust, causing you to tremble in overstimulation.

Before you could protest, Felix sat up and leaned over you to press his lips against yours. You could taste yourself on his lips as he pushed his tongue within your mouth, both of your release coating your tongue. He kissed you softly, the intimate moment continuing over several minutes.

You wrapped your arms around Felix, your hands dragging down his back until you felt something, rough beneath your finger tips. You ran your fingers over the two holes in Felix’s skin, feeling him shiver at the motion. In your post orgasmic haze, wondered what caused the scars, as they felt pretty deep. Without warning, you felt something soft brush your hands causing you to yelp. Sprouting from the two holes were a set of wings, their color a dark shade of blue, almost like the midnight sky.

You broke the kiss and stared at the appendages, your eyes wide. You were curious but also scared, wondering what kind of being Felix truly was. Felix hovered over you, his eyes searching yours desperately. You finally knew his secret, well part of it at least. He was elated at the fact as now you can be fully his with this knowledge.

He has claimed you physically and now he needs to claim your body and soul. He knew it was now or never. He needed to finish the task of why he came to this mortal planet to begin with.

He brushed your hair to the side, watching your curious eyes as he did so. Leaning down, he began to whisper the seed that would take root within you.

Empty your mind, let it lay bare Allow me to whisper your fate there Let the seed of warmth grow And let your true love show

With a kiss to your neck, he murmured “you are mine.”

He leaned back to look at you, watching as you internally fought with yourself. He knew it would be a battle, your mind fighting with the deepest and darkest desires buried within you, as they tried to fight their way to the surface.

He would be here with you, every step of the way as you made your transition. His task is done, he has performed his duty as your angel, the years of watching and waiting finally baring fruit. He’d stay with you, watch over you, and once you have allowed your mind to succumb to him, he’ll take you with him. He’ll take you with him back to the cosmos where you can both be together for eternity as lovers.

After all, you are his first and only true love.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

[ladyrosemone]

Smile

At first, when I see you cry, yeah, it makes me smile, yeah, it makes me smile. - Lily Allen.

Using Google Translate here! Sorry it took me so long! College got heavy and blocked all my imagination, but I'm back and hopefully more often!

Tags: @tsuniio, @simpingpandas, @dakotali, @softycheol, @cristy-101.

"Are you sure it's here?"

They all thought about it, Tim said it; the road in the batmobile was silent, each vigilante thinking about the possibilities of the call, who had made it and how they had done it, how they had passed under their noses and cornered them in their own territory.

Alfred couldn't help this time, he was as in the dark as the heroes themselves, Barbara didn't find any useful information besides the contract that was already half empty, Stephenie and Duke were looking from outside for some extra clue at the crime scene and Cassandra protected the mansion in her absence. The rest of them are guided by the little they found, and they found that there is something waiting in that abandoned house.

The surroundings fade with each passing kilometer; the buildings are replaced by mountains of garbage, which were reduced to empty sand and salty winds. Jason travels beside them on his motorcycle, alert for any surprise attack, intrigued by the location they are heading to; Why on the outskirts of Gotham? Why a house half-collapsed? Why only now after months of anonymity? Why, why, why?

Dusk falls when they reach their destination; desolate but peaceful, the low tide sings to them like sirens and the seagulls shout ignored warnings to the wind. The car's engine turns off and the motorcycle parks beside them.

They all go downstairs and look suspiciously at the rotten wooden door, the broken windows covered with black plastic bags and the moldy walls outside. Batman (as usual) was the first to enter with his guard up, he tried to push the door gently but with the slightest touch it fell to the ground breaking into pieces.

"Well, we already announced our arrival" even Dick's joking whisper did little to calm the tense atmosphere; they split up to inspect the few rooms the shack has, a kitchen with a small living room right there, two bedrooms and a patio that looked out onto the beach.

They all looked empty, few pieces of furniture with tattered or torn clothing and just an old bed, it seems like homeless people spend their nights here or come to get high, they bet that one or two crimes happened between the walls based on the dried blood stains on...well, all the floors.

"This is a waste of time" Robin complains, kicking a rock "We tear this place down, maybe we'll find something or get rid of it, either is better than this"

"We should search everything first" Batman orders.

"It's not that big of a deal" Jason snorts, slamming a kitchen cabinet shut; it's broken "We already did and there's just trash"

"There's something we're not seeing" Tim was (after Bruce) the most eager to discover the identity of this 'Savior', the figure behind the advantage and difficulties in the underworld of Gotham, where not even the bat goes down. This house was the key to discover it, had sent them here for a reason, there is always a reason in his tracks and he will not leave until he discovers it "It must be around here but we can't see it"

Jason tries to turn on the lights, obviously it doesn't work and the evening light runs out, not that there was too much coming in through the covered windows; the reddish tone of the Sun hits the broken parts of the lining hitting the black and damp walls, A cracked path stands out from the old paint, linear and somewhat wobbly throughout the hallway to the end where, on the far wall, a broken mirror hangs. Tim realizes this as he feels the walls, his fingers brush the mark and follows it like a hypnotized person until he reaches the mirror; there are rusty pieces scattered on the floor, others still hang from the mirror.

With his metal rod he feels the bottom, it sounds hollow, there is definitely something behind. He removes the glass, and behind one is a handle that, unlike literally everything else, doesn't look rusty, I could even say it's brand new.

Batman took his place, in case something is waiting for them, he won't let his son take the first hit.

The five of them walk in silence down a hallway warmly lit by lamps, the stairs lined with black velvet muffling their footsteps and the walls painted an exquisite wine red are decorated with paintings of robins. One by one, until they reach a closed door, the paintings reflect more and more of these flocking birds perched on an oak tree, the last painting however, has something different from the others.

Above the painting is a black spray-painted shield, the shield of the bat.

A soft humming noise passes through the door, imperceptible to other people, loud and clear to them. Cautiously they open the door; the first thing that greets them is a room empty of furniture or windows, illuminated by a whitish light among the dark tones.

But it is not entirely empty, not with the seated figure with his back to them, humming and painting on a canvas unaware of their presence.

But is it?

"I thought they'd get here sooner" you say calmly, as if you were talking to an old acquaintance. Maybe that's how it is "You took your time"

"No more riddles" Batman -Bruce- cuts him off with a slash "Give yourself up, it's over"

"Did it?" You laugh at that, the dramatic manner he usually uses with his victims "You still underestimate me if you think that"

"You sound pretty confident for someone who's surrounded" Red Hood mocks, playing with the handle of his gun, waiting for an opportunity, a reason, whatever.

"What shade of red is your helmet?" You ask boredly "I'm not sure if it's scarlet or carmine red" You hear the draw of a gun "I guess we're about to find out"

Dick grabs his arm, stopping him, pointing his head to the corners of the room where there are small surveillance cameras. Below them an ejection device is pointed at them, probably a heavily loaded gun.

"I didn't bring you two together to fight" You begin to speak, tracing the outline of the wings "The Penguin is usually a good customer, he doesn't cause trouble and pays for his purchases, but lately he's forgotten his place and he's bothering me"

"What do we care about that?" Robin bellows, his hand ready to pull out his trusty Katana.

"Your research is stuck, isn't it?" You say, and his lack of response makes you smile "I have the piece you're missing, and you can send a message for me, it's a win-win"

"Why would I accept?" Batman questions, always suspicious.

"My principles are clear and my values ​​sacred, I am governed by loyalty and honesty, it is the key to any successful business" your businesses are turbulent and unethical, most, if not all, threaten human life or profit from it. But you are not cruel, they are there by choice, you only care for your people animals enough to stay where you are. Batman takes a step closer to you "No no no" you sing, pointing at the camera.

Wisely he pauses.

“Now, shall we agree on terms?” You laugh, painting the leaves of the tree a nice shade of green. Reluctantly, and knowing they were at a disadvantage this time, Batman grunts, a growl of approval probably.

"One second" Nightwing interrupts "What assures us that you'll keep your end of the bargain?"

"The Penguin is ruining a good deal for me in one of my biggest districts" you explain calmly, though there may be a bit of irritation in your tone "I'm doing my best to stop him, but the runt bastard knows how to play this game, so I'll cheat a little and use you two"

"That's not honest" he sneers, countering what you said about your values "Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty" is all you say; the truth is you use what suits you, so what? "Are you going to interrupt me again?"

It seems like you are, but you ignore him.

"I give you locations, plans, and agents to arrest him, what you do with him afterwards doesn't matter much to me, just leave him conscious, in exchange for that I want you to spend time with me"

"What?"

Your painting is finished; Nine robins and a bat in the middle of them, perched on a tree branch, trapped in a golden cage.

Then you turn around and the air freezes, because they recognize you; the first is bewildered, the second is scared, the third understands, the fourth denies it, and the one leading them takes off his mask revealing a delicious shock and panic at the sight of you.

"Hello Bruce, long time, don't you think?" You smile, turning to look at him; two drops of water, two almost perfect reflections, past and present face him suddenly.

And you won the battle.

[hollandsfavbabe]

Wonderstruck

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which peter wants to take liz to homecoming and not you … or so you assume

warnings: single use of y/n (shout out to the old me), villainized liz, dramatic teenager moments, descriptions of physical injuries, very happy ending!

word count: 4.9k

masterlist

I'm back! Starting off 2025 by clearing out my drafts including this beauty that is heavily inspired by Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Thanks for being so patient. It’s kind of bad because I’m so rusty, but practice makes perfect! To everyone who had sent me a request, I promise I am getting to them/ already started! Right now I'm adjusting to a lot of changes in my personal life, but everything is starting to get easier so I hope I can post more often. Love you guys 💜

The air was cold as you stepped out from your rented limo and onto the yellow stripped concrete of Midtown’s parking lot. It was quiet where you stood as the limo pulled away. If you hadn’t been able to see the flashing multicolored disco lights from inside the school building, you never would’ve known there was a dance at all. Maybe it wasn’t too late. You could have a terrible cold as far as your friends knew, all it would take is a quick apology text. If you ran fast enough, you could be out of sight and back home within the hour. You sighed as your spool heels carried you towards the door, arches aching. Stupid high heels. You wish your dad had let you wear your Converse or at least stopped hovering over you for even a second. You could’ve snuck them if he hadn’t been so smothering.

You picked up the sides of your pastry shaped purple dress as you walked to the back door of your school. Low vibrations tingled your hand as you reached for the handle, courtesy of the blaring 80s ballad inside. The melody greeted you as you stepped inside.

People were dancing and laughing all around the gym which was adorned by bright party streamers. It was quite the festive prom, one that you would’ve enjoyed under different circumstances. But as you neared the middle of the gym, the sight you feared most was suddenly dancing right in front of you, a painful reminder of why you didn’t want to be there in the first place. Your best friend, Peter Parker, and his smug chosen date: Liz Allen.

The news broke only days before the date of the dance. You had been hoping Peter would ask you to the dance, seeing as you two were close as close as could be and your mutual friend, Ned, had constantly assured you each moment you were alone that Peter had to feel the same. And you trusted him for there was no one in the whole of Midtown Tech who knew Peter better than Ned. They were the best of friends, how could he be wrong.

“You know how he is,” he would say. “He’s probably just waiting for the right moment. There’s no way he isn’t totally in love with you.”

Three days ago you might have agreed that waiting was indeed worth it. In your daydreams he would ask you during your weekly study dates, some of the only moments where it was just the two of you at his place. Your delusion had grown so strong that when Ned informed you that he had asked someone else last minute, you almost didn’t believe it at first.

“Good one,” you had laughed, only for your amusement to turn sour as you realized that Ned was in fact not joking. As if it couldn't get any worse, you felt sick when he revealed the name of the girl who stole away the only boy you would ever want for the rest of time. Of course it had to be Liz.

It wasn’t her attraction to Peter that made you dislike Liz Allen, or her intelligence, or even how flawless she managed to look when all you could muster up was piled leggings and crewnecks. You couldn’t stand how she treated you, lording her popularity over you like it was a key to the city. She got everything she wanted, popular friends that would help her throw parties at her huge house whenever her perfect, loving parents weren’t around and rumor had it, she was most well known for the things that she does on the mattress. And now she had Peter, even after countless years of teasing and enabling his bullies, she still managed to keep him wrapped around her finger and bind him under her curse. After all she had done to him, how could she steal your happy ending? The wicked witch had stolen your prince. 

The sight of them together, standing huddled as one, stung worse than the loss of a good friend, sure to be burned in the back of your mind for all eternity. You knew you would be forever haunted by it. You blinked through glassy eyes as you fought the tears that started to well, stiffening as they turned to look at you and Peter’s brown eyed gaze met yours in a solemn greeting.

“Y/n.” he said, taking in the sight of you in your dress. The very same dress you had chosen hoping to wear it on his arm. He didn’t light up like he usually did when you two were together, as the match that ignited the spark between you had been rained out by Liz’s presence. His lips parted slowly as he tried to speak once more. “You look-”

“Y/n!” Liz interrupted, breaking her hold of Peter’s hand to open her arms wide for you. “You made it!” she leaned in for a hug and without anywhere to run, you let her, your hands loosely holding the emerald, jeweled fabric of her  perfect homecoming dress.

“Yep,” you affirmed with a strained breath so as to not inhale any of her sickeningly sweet perfume. It lingered even after she stepped back, like a never fading gut feeling that hung around even after the danger had passed. “I thought I’d drop by to say hi.”

“You’re not leaving early are you?” she raised a brow. You could feel the judgment radiating off of her from the way she looked down upon you as her stilettos made her slightly taller. “What about your date? You should at least stay for them.”

You looked over at Peter who remained silent, unwilling to break up whatever Liz had begun between the two of you. It seemed as if he understood for a moment just by the way you looked at him, that he was supposed to be your date. But then he turned his head.

“I don’t have a date.” you admitted, gazing up at Liz with a lifeless stare.

“Oh,” she reared back in smugly, rejoining arms with her precious Peter. “No one asked you? Really?”

“A few people did,” you corrected, trying your best to ignore the pang of jealousy in your gut as you stared down at the homemade corsage on her wrist, undoubtedly constructed by Aunt May. Lilac roses and Baby’s-breath, two of your favorite flowers. “But I turned them all down. I was kind of waiting for someone special to ask me.”

You could’ve sworn you saw Peter tilt his head toward you for a second, but Liz blocked your view of him as she stepped over.

“I’m sure you can find someone here,” she smiled, her perfectly whitened teeth glimmering as she pointed to a boy standing by himself in a corner, but he was exactly the wrong person to match you up with. “Flash is just over there. I think he came with a date, but honestly he’s desperate for an upgrade. He had to beg her to go with him. I’m sure he’d leave her in a heartbeat if you asked.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” you glowered at her, ready to counter anymore of her quick remarks until you felt two pairs of hands pulling you away as each restrained one of your arms. Ned and MJ appeared at your side, bystanders to the whole conversation.

“We’re gonna get some punch.” MJ stated.

“You’re pretty thirsty after your ride right?” Ned asked in your direction, though you could tell his question was more than an explanation of anything as he helped MJ drag you away. “She needs to, uhh, hydrate.” 

“No kidding.” MJ remarked humorously, though she never broke from her usual monotone.

“Yeah so we're just going to go over the punch bowl. We’ll be right back.” Ned grimaced, trying his best to gain control of the situation as he and MJ lead you away to a more remote corner of the gym, far away from Peter and Liz and all of the loud hustle and bustle of the dance. 

“I can-” Peter tried, reaching out to follow you, but his offer went unheard as Liz quickly shot him down.

“C’mon Peter. Dance with me!”

From across the gym, you sighed as they released you, falling back into the filled up bleachers behind you. You blinked a few times as you still refused to let the tears fall. You really didn’t want to give Liz anymore fuel.

“Are you okay?” Ned asked, noticing the way your face scrunched up as you tried your best not to cry.

“Not really,” your voice broke as you held in a sob. “Of all the girls he could’ve asked. Why did it have to be her?”

“You want me to knock some sense into him?” MJ offered, entirely serious as she clenched a fist.

“No, don’t hurt him.”

MJ settled for a subtle flip of the bird as she raised her clenched fist and pointed her finger in the air in Peter’s direction, though it went unnoticed as he spun around with Liz.

“I just don’t get it,” you exasperated. “She’s always subtly degrading him. What exactly does he think she has that I don’t?”

“Money?” Ned suggested before MJ whacked in square in the chest, forcing a pained whine out of him.

“That was rhetorical.”

“Sorry.” Ned wheezed.

You sighed, looking past your friends to stare at unconventional couple again.

“She is much prettier than me. And she’s good on Decathlon, as much as I hate to admit it. Maybe this is for the best.”

“Stop it.” MJ shook her head.

“Yeah, don’t talk like that,” Ned agreed. “She’s nothing compared to you. Peter’s been wanting you for way longer, I’m sure of it.”

“Then why is he dancing with her?”

“I-” Ned cut himself short, looking down towards the ground. “I don’t know. I was so sure, I swear he was going to ask you.”

“Maybe I should just go, the only reason I came was to see him, but Liz won’t even let me do that. Now that she's got him, she’ll never let him go.”

“No, you deserve to be here just as much as she does. Don’t let her win…”

“Ned,” MJ warned, sending him a warning look. “She’s miserable here. If she wants to go, let her go.”

As much as she herself wanted you to stay, she understood what it was like to be in your position and she couldn’t want you to be tortured anymore.

“Come check on you later?” MJ offered.

“No that’s okay,” you declined. “I just want to be alone. I’ll see you guys at school on Monday.”

When you arrived home, you weren't sure how to break it to your father that you had retired from the dance so early so you snuck up to your room using the service elevator.

Tony Stark hadn’t put virtually any effort into getting ready for his own dances. His routine was always the same as a teen. He’d put on a nice outfit and maybe a tie if he was feeling really fancy and go dance with his buddies for about five minutes before moving to the parking lot to break open a new bottle of whatever he could steal from his parent’s liquor cabinet.

But when it was time for you, his only daughter, to attend your first Homecoming? He didn’t spare any expense (as long as you didn’t protest).

You had your dress picked out weeks before, custom-made from some international designer brand that owed your father a favor, flown in from Milan along with your matching shoes. He’d spent hours researching the right products and equipment needed to fix up the perfect hairstyle (which was executed flawlessly). And even when he failed to figure out how to do your makeup, he enlisted Pepper who made you look more exquisite than a Vogue model.

You didn’t want him to think all his hard work had been for nothing and Stark Tower was so big that if you memorized the layout and avoided the outdated surveillance systems (Tony didn’t see a point in updating them with the recent construction of the compound), you could move anywhere undetected.

You knew he had scheduled the moving team for tonight specifically because you would be gone so it wouldn’t be suspicious if the service elevator was in use and your room was an easy distance away, just down the hall and around a corner.

When you arrived, the weight of your decision started to feel heavier by the second.

Even though none of your classmates would ever know that Tony Stark was your father (besides Peter of course since he was your best friend), now no one would get to see all the work out into your night.

You slid off your heels, but you couldn’t bring yourself to change out of your deep purple dress or wipe off your face. All you could do was flip on your bed and turn on a mindless movie channel to quiet the screaming voices in your head. All your thoughts echoed his name. You would never understand why he chose her. The lingering question kept you up.

Hours later, you were wiping the snot and tears off your face with the back of your hand and turning off your television. You wouldn’t have watched the ‘mindless’ channel if you had known they were showing Dead Poets Society and you definitely wouldn’t have watched Dead Poets Society if you had known how tragic it was. Now you were a miserable mess of ruined mascara.

At least it had distracted you from your own problems, enough that you had stopped checking Liz’s Instagram story for snippets of Peter. Even when you did check, her page hadn’t been updated since you left the dance, which was more confusing than the EPR Paradox. Liz loved nothing more than rubbing her success in the face of all of her followers and dangling Peter in front of you like a carrot to a donkey.

Suddenly, there was a knock at your window, slow and uniform and so concise that you wouldn’t have heard it had you been asleep. 

You shrieked from the sudden noise that contrasted the melancholy quiet of your room. Carefully, you rose from your bed and peered out your window, surveying the thick glass pane with the utmost caution.

You pulled back your curtains, expecting to find some sort of bird or other city creature that you would have to scare off, only to reveal the face of the boy who broke your heart only a few hours prior. Peter Parker crouched on the rackety stairwell outside your window and beamed like a drunk man when he saw your face. Though hesitant, you reached for the latch locking your window and pushed it open wide enough to stick your head through, cold wind kissing your damp face.

“Peter? What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” Peter smiled, his voice shaky and out of breath as if he had just ran an entire marathon to get to your floor. “I had to see you.”

“How did you even get out there? We don’t have a fire escape!”

“Yeah I know. And your building is like 3,000 floors up.” he chuckled lightly, though you were having a hard time finding the humor of the situation.

“What are you talking about? How did you-”

You stopped when you noticed the circle of purple surrounding his left eye. And then his split lips that were still dripping blood. Then several dirty, shallow cuts all over his face and neck. So clear and prevalent, you were shocked you hadn’t noticed them when you first saw him. Perhaps it was the shock that he was there at all.

“Oh my god, what the hell happened to you?”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I want to talk to you about…”

That’s when you noticed the biggest change of them all. Peter’s classy suit you had last seen him in was a long time, now replaced by a red sweat shirt and blue sweat pants that were all too familiar. Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Why he was all beaten up, exhausted, and easily hoisting himself up thousands of feet above busy New York streets.

“Holy shit, Peter!” you exclaimed as you came to your senses. He had to get out of the cold. “You-you’re Spider-Man?”

Peter nodded, his smile fading as his injuries caught up to him.

“Yeah and it’d be really nice to get out of the cold now, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh shit, yeah. Here-”

You reached to pull him in by his biceps, helping him through the opening of your window and into your room. He leaned against the wall once he was finally safe inside, sliding down to the floor. The metal squealed as you shut your window to cut off the cold and hurried over to turn the lights on as before you had been lonely in the dark. Peter’s dirt ridden face went wry as they flickered on.

“Oh, are you okay?!” you cried as you hurried back over to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter assured you. “Just bruised is all. And … I might’ve broken, uh, a couple ribs….”

“Oh Peter,” you frowned. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Throwing one of his sturdy arms over your shoulder, you helped him cross your room to the connecting bathroom. You set him down to sit on the rim of the tub while you pulled out anything you had from the sink vanity that could help him.

“I don’t have much, most of the first aid is in my dad’s bathroom.” you explained, running warm water over a washcloth.

You kneeled before him, your dress bulging around you like the underside of a blooming purple rose.

Peter’s coffee eyes bore into yours and you reached out a hand to his cheek. He winced when you brushed a thumb over his black eye and once more when you held the wet cloth up to his temple with your other hand.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “It’s gonna sting a little.”

You started off slow, gently wiping up all of the dirt and debris from his cuts in soothing strokes. Peter seemed to adjust as his breathing slowed and the pained expression on his face faded into tranquility. He looked like he was exactly where he wanted to be. But you knew better. He was no longer yours to hold.

“How did this even happen?” you asked out of curiosity and a need to be distracted from your thoughts.

“I fought the Vulture. Took him down, finally.”

“The Vulture…” you repeated, having heard the name before from eavesdropping on your father. It all made sense now why Spider-Man was the only hero he refused to talk to you about. He was always up for answering all your queries on the other Avengers, be it the Black Widow’s childhood or Captain America’s most recent cultural slip up (common for the man from another time). But whenever you wanted to know anything about Spider-Man, even if you were sure it wouldn't compromise his anonymity, Tony Stark was radio silent. The habit annoyed you as Spider-Man was the only hero you ever wanted to know something about.

“I’ve been fighting him for weeks -” Peter paused as you cleaned up one of his ugliest cuts, grimacing before diving back into his explanation. “- he runs this crazy illegal weapons business.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I’ve heard my dad talk about him. I’m just trying to wrap my head around this whole Spider-Man thing.”

“Yeah, sorry I sprung it on you like this. I really meant to tell you.”

“It’s okay. It makes sense.” you assured him, though the energy between you was off.

Normally when you two were together, it was as if everything about you both moved in sync. You were so similar with nearly the same interests and motivations, revolving around each other like stars before a solar nebula. But now you felt like the two of you had finally crashed together, wrecking havoc upon each other and it hurt to see him knowing he was in love with someone else.

“Have you been crying?” Peter asked, noticing the streaks of dark mascara that stretched across your plump cheeks.

You rose from your position on the tiled floor and returned to the sink to rinse all of the collected dirt from your washcloth and wash away some of the product from your face.

“It’s just been a rough night,” you tried, hoping he would drop the subject. “I’m glad you got to have fun at the dance though. Before your big fight.”

You awaited his confirmation, but instead of affirming your worst nightmare, Peter’s reply sparked a glimmer of hope.

“Actually, I didn’t really get to enjoy it much either. I left right after you did,” he admitted.

Your fingers worked carefully as you thought of a reply, delicately unscrewing the cap to the only ointment you kept in your bathroom and squeezing a pinkie sized dollop onto the back of your hand.

“I thought you asked Liz.” you kneeled before Peter once again and smoothed the ointment onto the worst of his cuts.

“I did,” Peter asserted, his face softening under your touch. “But only because I was too scared to ask my first choice.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks under the makeup that caked them as you felt the first semblance of a smile you’d had in days.

“Your first choice?”

Though you had been avoiding his pitiful gaze, you felt a sudden braveness to meet it now.

He nodded.

“I’ve wanted to ask you since they announced the theme.”

“Student council decided on making it the 80s months ago.” you unpuzzled aloud.

“I know.”

Shocked, you rose suddenly as your heart beat wildly as if to escape from its cavity. How was it that all your wildest dreams were coming true on the worst night of your life. You were having a hard time believing him, but Peter had never lied to you before. Why would he now?

Peter wanted to meet you where you were, but as he tried to stand, something twisted in his broken chest and he sank back down in anguish, clutching his abdomen.

“Oh Peter,” you fussed, quick to return to his side. “I should really take you to a hospital.”

“No, no hospitals,” he refused. Bringing his injuries to the attention of professionals was too dangerous. Too many people would ask questions he couldn’t answer. “I’ll be okay with some ice. I heal fast.”

“At least let me take a look then, so we know what we’re dealing with.” you urged.

Peter unzipped his hoodie at your request and you aided him as he struggled to get the thick fabric off his arms. Mud stained and discarded to the side of the tub, you suddenly became very aware of the fact that you had never seen Peter in any kind of naked capacity once he was before you with a bare chest. It would’ve made it easier if he wasn’t a superhero and hiding the immaculate tapestry of musculature beneath his flannels and plain t-shirts. But he was, and now you were fighting to narrow your gaze on the dark bruises on the left side of his lower rib cage instead of taking in the whole view. You failed.

“It hurts the most here,” Peter pointed to the purple swirls of skin that were far too large for him to be so calm about it. He made no mention of your ogling, if he had even noticed at all.

You snapped back into caretaker mode, searching every drawer and cabinet for something that could work.

“I don’t have any actual ice, but I think I have - oh where is it?” you searched frantically. “Aha! Found it.”

You pulled a plastic circle of brightly colored water from the depths of one of your drawers, an adequate size to cover up the worst portion of Peter’s bruise. You knocked it against the nearest counter too, watching as the liquid inside froze instantaneously.

“Here, this should help with the swelling.” you stated, gently covering Peter’s bruise with the ice pack. He shivered when the cold made contact with his bare skin, but after some time to adjust, the pain was clearly relieved.

“Thanks,” he smiled, reaching a hand up to take over your job of holding the pack. “I really appreciate you taking care of me.”

“Anytime,” you promised, and if what he said was true, perhaps Peter Parker would be around a lot more often. “But maybe you shouldn’t make a habit of fighting off giant metal birds.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. He’s the Fed’s problem now.”

There was a beat of silence as you took a seat beside Peter and the sight of your dress reminded you of the impending question that stuck in your throat. Only this time, there was no interruption to stop it from coming out.

“Why didn’t you ask me to the dance?”

“God, it sounds so stupid now,” Peter cringed. “I want to say it was mostly because I wasn’t sure how you would respond, but in all honesty, I was scared of your dad.”

“I thought you liked him.” you questioned, recalling the bewildered look on Peter’s face when he found out your father was Tony Stark. Back then you assumed he had been a fan, but now you surmised it was much deeper.

“I do, so much. But after the ferry incident, I couldn’t risk screwing up again.”

From the bits and pieces you had overheard about Spider-Man from your dad, you already knew much about the split ferry. Though no one got hurt, you knew your father still fumed when thinking about it.

“Oh,” you realized, connecting all the pieces like shards of a broken vase fusing back into one. For the first time since you found out about Liz, you started to feel whole again. Whole and so stupid for ever doubting Peter. And it was all thanks to the dramatic antics of your father. “Oh, I’m gonna kill him.”

Peter shared your amusement, giggling quieter than normal so as to not upset his broken ribs. A comforting silence followed and you were no longer hesitant as you returned his lingering gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter confessed. “I thought I was protecting our friendship, but when I saw you at the dance, looking so gorgeous in your dress, I knew I was wrong. It’s so stupid now, but I didn’t want to risk losing what we already have. I see now how wrong I was and how I almost lost the very person I need the most.”

“You really mean that?” you questioned, touched by his honesty.

“I do.”

Peter always stared at you as if you were the most beautiful person to ever walk the face of the Earth and the occasion was no different. Even with tear stained cheeks and a wrinkled purple dress, you could still see the same affection in his expression. You were exactly who he wanted.

He muttered your name, reaching a hand over to grasp one of yours. “I like you so much. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am that I made you think any differently.”

Squeezing his hand, you shifted closer to him.

“I like you too.”

Peter leaned into you, his hand fluttering to cup your cheek as his thumb traced the line curve of your bottom lip.

“Can I-” he whispered, sweet enough to ask for your permission. However, you had been waiting on this day for years and you couldn’t waste another minute. So you brought your lips to his.

Slow and soft, the kiss didn’t last too long. You were forced to stop before it grew too intense on a count of Peter’s poor ribs.

“Wanna sleep over?” you offered, unwilling to let Peter go in such condition and for your own reasons.

“Will your dad even let me?”

“He doesn’t have to know…” you grinned. “- besides, I’ve been so depressed the past few days that he’ll pretty much let me do whatever I want. I could kill someone and he wouldn’t bat an eye.”

“I hope I can fix it all.” Peter’s regret shone through his voice. His apologies weren’t sufficient and you could tell he would carry this guilt for another decade or so. But he didn’t need to. You two had figured it out after all.

“I already feel a million times better because of you.”

You helped Peter into a set of clean clothes, a shirt he’d left behind once when the two of you went swimming and some shorts you stole from your dad’s closet (though you didn’t let Peter know that to ease his conscience).

Once you were in your own pajamas, the two of you huddled together under the warmth of your duvet, wrapped up in each other.

“This is so nice,” Peter mumbled groggily into your skin, his face close to yours and his eyes nearly shut. You gave a hum of agreement, too comfortable to let any real reply out. Peter’s arms around you seemed to have that effect. “I was so wrong before. I’d much prefer to deal with your dad’s temper over Liz’s any day if it meant getting to hold you again. Tony’s temper is much more manageable than the Vulture.”

“What?!” you exclaimed, jumping up from his comfort.

Peter groaned, reaching a hand for his bruised ribs as he started to retreat mentioning it at all. He forgot you weren’t used to his Spidery habits yet.

“Peter, you can’t just say things like that and not explain.”

“Can’t it wait until morning?” he moaned.

“Nope.”

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Bruce loves his kids, even when they eat all his food , crash his cars, sneak metahumans into his city, hell they make out with random redheads in his Batmobile and he still loves them.

But his house is literally on fire and he is struggling to remember why he got children like there must be a way to return them he's begging any god for help at this point.

His wonderful children standing in front of him yelling screaming and fighting while his couch is on fire and for just one second he wishes he could go back in time and decide nope celibacy and no circus.

He's tired he's a vigilante he has twenty kids Alfred is on vacation and maybe this is why he opens his mouth. Which he would later realize was a mistake and utters these words.

I shouldn't have gone to that damn Circus

A

PIN

DROP

His eldest who was trying to pull apart his younger brother's turns tears already pooling in his eyes.

You regret me?

He sees his other children turn looks that would have killed him if he wasn't Batman. Jason's hand already on his holster. Knife in Damian's and Tim's bowstaff is out.

He rushes to his eldest Sweetheart no never I was joking I would do it a thousand Times over. No Dickie No.

Suddenly his children run faster than Barry god damn Allen. A smirk on Dicks face as he dashes.

Seriously B how do you always fall for that.

He should have Gone to Therapy

Shit the couch is still on fire

[diamonddaze01]

DIY (why)

pairing: non-idol!yoon jeonghan x gn!reader | wc: 1.0K genre: humor, fluff, established relationship | rating: e for everyone! warnings: none! a/n: based on an a conversation with @ylangelegy about how jeonghan has never lifted a tool in his life. enjoy!

You weren’t sure what you expected when you came home, but it certainly wasn’t Jeonghan standing in the middle of the living room, looking like he’d fought a losing battle with the entirety of IKEA.

“Hey, you’re home early!” he greeted brightly, though his tone was suspiciously similar to someone caught mid-crime.

The sight before you was equal parts baffling and hilarious. Picture frames were propped up against the walls, a half-built IKEA coffee table leaned precariously to one side, and what appeared to be a bag of screws had spilled across the floor like tiny, mocking breadcrumbs.

“Jeonghan…” You stepped inside cautiously, toeing a stray Allen wrench out of your path. “What is going on?”

He set down the manual in his hand, holding it up like he’d been caught red-handed. “I thought I’d surprise you by putting the house together while you were at work.”

Your eyes scanned the scene: the lopsided coffee table, the crooked picture frames on the walls (one of which was upside down), and the faint scent of burning plastic wafting from the general direction of the kitchen.

“Surprise?” he added weakly.

“You—” You paused, trying to find the right words. “You thought this would be a good idea?”

He pushed his hair back, smearing what looked like drywall dust across his forehead. “I didn’t think it would be this bad. How hard could it be to hang some pictures and assemble a table?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Jeonghan, you’ve never used a tool in your life.”

“I watched a video,” he defended, pointing at his laptop, which was paused on an overly enthusiastic DIY vlogger holding up a power drill. “And I read the instructions. Well, most of them.”

You crouched next to the IKEA manual on the floor, flipping through it. “This is not most of them. You circled the diagram of the coffee table like it’s a treasure map.”

He peeked over your shoulder. “Because it didn’t make sense! What’s a cam lock? Why does IKEA use pictures instead of words? Are Swedes allergic to clarity?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose to stop from laughing. “Let me guess—you skipped steps?”

“I skipped suggestions,” he corrected with a smirk, only for it to falter when the table creaked ominously behind him. “Okay, fine, maybe a couple steps. But this is IKEA! They don’t even include all the screws sometimes! It’s like they want you to fail.”

“You’re blaming IKEA for this mess?”

“Do you see this pile of screws?” he exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “I’m convinced it’s more than what came in the box! I think they’re reproducing!”

You tried not to laugh, but the mental image of IKEA screws plotting your demise was too good. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me,” he shot back easily, his grin almost enough to distract you from the tilted bookshelf you hadn’t noticed until now.

You stared at it, horrified. “Is that—did you hang a bookshelf?”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, following your gaze. “It’s modern. You know, asymmetry is trendy.”

“It’s also unsafe.”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug, the very picture of nonchalance. “It hasn’t fallen yet.”

“Yet,” you echoed, crossing your arms.

Jeonghan stood, brushing off his knees and sidling closer to you with his trademark smirk. “Look, it’s not perfect, but I was trying to be romantic. Doesn’t that count for something?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think lopsided furniture and upside-down picture frames scream romance?”

“It screams effort,” he said dramatically, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Do you know how many hours I spent on this? I used a drill, babe. I risked my life for you.”

You blinked at him. “You risked your life… hanging frames?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed, pointing at one particularly sad attempt that was dangling by one screw. “Those things are dangerous! The drill kicked back, and for a second, I thought I was going to meet my maker.”

Despite yourself, you started laughing, the image of Jeonghan flinching away from a power drill too absurd to ignore.

“Fine,” you said, pulling away just enough to look at him. “But you’re cleaning this up, and I’m fixing everything. Including that bookshelf before it kills someone.”

“Deal,” he said quickly, pulling you in again. “But after dinner. I worked hard today, and I’m starving.”

“You worked hard?” you teased, poking his chest. “You mean you made a mess and called it a day?”

“Same thing.” He grinned and leaned in to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Now, how about takeout? Thai?”

You smirked, reaching up to straighten the crooked frame. “I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to make me do all the work.”

He gave you a wide-eyed look that was anything but innocent. “What? Me? Never.”

“Uh-huh.” You glanced back at him, your tone teasing. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Lucky?” he echoed, grinning as he slid closer to you. “I’m the luckiest. I’ve got a handy, patient partner who’ll fix all my mistakes and keep me fed. Truly, what more could I ask for?”

“Less drywall dust on the floor, for one,” you shot back, flicking at his shirt where a fine layer of powder clung.

“Details.” He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I’ll clean it up after dinner. Maybe.”

“Jeonghan.”

“Okay, definitely.”

It was impossible to stay mad at him for long—not with that mischievous twinkle in his eye and the crooked, boyish smile that said he’d get away with this, too. You rolled your eyes and reached for your phone.

“Fine. But you’re watching me hang the rest of these,” you grumble goodnaturedly, gesturing to the mess he had left behind. 

“Deal,” he said, plopping onto the couch with a satisfied grin. “You know, we really make a great team.”

You sighed, shaking your head but unable to stop smiling. “You’re impossible, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“And you love me for it,” he said smugly, dodging your playful swat as he grabbed his phone.

As you watched him settle onto the couch, surrounded by chaos but entirely unbothered, you couldn’t help but laugh. The furniture might have been a disaster, but somehow, it still felt like home—with Jeonghan, it always did.