#and Kei is too cocky about being smarter than him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blondiebarnes · 3 years

Text

in the middle

summary: steve and bucky just got home from a tough mission, and you’re determined to make them feel good.

pairing: steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut! threesome, male & female receiving oral, established relationship, cumplay, basically just porn

word count: 6.5k

For the most part, you’ve gotten used to being by yourself when Steve and Bucky are on missions.

You don’t like it - not in the slightest - it goes without saying that you’d love nothing more than to go on missions with them when they’re called in the dead of night but it hardly, if ever, works out that way. They’re nearly always sent together (Fury says they balance each other out, and you’re not exactly sure you know why or how but you’ve learned to accept whatever your director says at face value) and you’re generally excluded from their missions. They get too protective, can ignore the objectives of a mission when you’re in danger, and it’s a sweet sentiment but you know it’s an issue, even if you appreciate it.

And you are used to it. Really, you are. It’s been a year of having them called off in the middle of the night, leaving you sleeping in bed with a lingering kiss to your forehead as you dip out the door - occasionally they’ll wake you up (usually Bucky, because he tends to be a bit more sentimental, though he’d never dare to admit it) and give you a proper kiss, but for the most part you simply wake up in a too-large bed that’s void of the two super soldiers sandwiching you between their warm bodies, and it never fails to feel any more jarring.

That’s what happened Friday. You simply woke up on a day like any other and they were gone, leaving nothing but ruffled covers and a small sticky note pressed to your cell phone in Steve’s scribbled handwriting, telling you that it shouldn’t last more than the weekend and we love you so much and a small smiley face that looks to be more of Bucky’s doing, but you can’t be sure.

It had been a long weekend.

Movies and books and making dinner, and work had been so slow recently with no new missions on the come-up that you need to be called away on, so you’ve been primarily holed up in your apartment watching the time tick by and waiting for your boys to come home. You’d even called Nick at one point, in your boredom, to inquire about how their mission was going, and he told you (paraphrased, of course) that they were doing just fuckin’ great and should be home by Monday, and Monday couldn’t have fucking come any slower.

You’ve been lying awake for nearly three hours since you settled into bed on Sunday night, covers pulled tight against your chin to protect yourself from the January cold that nips at your skin, even after you’ve set the thermostat to 71 degrees. Steve likes it cold - Bucky warm - you laugh at the irony of it, much to the latter’s chagrin - and you prefer it being right in the middle.

The TV plays on mute a rerun of some old movie you’ve never heard of, black and white film running rickety slow and glitching, though you’ve long since given up paying attention to it. You’d been on Pinterest for an hour before getting bored and plugging your phone in on your nightstand, and you’d begun flipping through one of Steve’s favorite books he loves to read to you sometimes, and now - you simply gaze at the ceiling in your boredom, fingers interlocked on top of your stomach, boredom settling in every crevice of your body.

You’re not sure what, exactly, you’re waiting awake for. Not even sure if you’re waiting or simply unable to sleep - it feels like a 50/50 situation, at least at the moment - but there’s still something inherently wrong with sleeping in bed without your boys. Curling into Bucky’s chest while Steve is pressed to his back, the latter’s hand wrapped around to rest on your lip while a metal hand slides up your shirt, cupping your breast just to hear the way you squeal at the chill - or, alternatively, sandwiching yourself between them as Steve practically throws his mass on top of you and Bucky squishes your face into his hard back.

Empty. You feel empty, in more ways than one, and that’s what’s keeping you awake, you decide after a long fifteen minutes of contemplating on it. Your boys complete you. It’s not right without them -

Just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the front door knob jiggling from across the apartment, and you jerk upright as though someone had doused you with freezing cold water (not that it would be much of an adjustment from the temperature your apartment feels, but the implication still stands.)

If you were smarter - or perhaps less groggy - maybe you’d dig through your nightstand for the gun you keep in case of any intruders, buried beneath notebooks and stray pieces of paper decorated with small smudged sketches that Steve puts on any smooth surface he can find. It’s loaded and ready to go - all you’d need to do is dig through and grab it, creep outside the bedroom door and take down whomever may be invading your home -

Just as you roll onto your side to dig through your drawer and find the weapon, the front door fully opens with a jingle of keys and the scuffling sounds of footsteps, and you pause, listening to the voices that roll through the apartment, hushed and breathy.

“Fuckin’ - tripped over my foot,” comes a familiar voice, louder than the one who follows right after him, murmuring for him to shut the hell up - are you trying to wake up the entire city? -

You’re out of bed faster than you can even process, covers mercilessly kicked to the very bottom of the bed in your haste. The hardwood is cold against your bare feet and the air bites at your skin, wearing nothing but one of Steve’s old t-shirts that falls to your mid thighs and a pair of lace panties that peeks out of the shirt when you bend over or reach up or do anything, really - it’s a bit of a scandalous look - but you pay no mind to it, opening the door and tearing down the hallway into the foyer.

You’ve smacked into a hard, thick body before you could stop yourself, arms thrown around Steve’s torso as you bury your face into his chest, and you can practically feel his deep laugh before you hear it but you do hear it, clear as day, and it brings a grin to your face that’s only deepened when Bucky tugs at your waist, pulling you into his back, arms wrapped around your stomach as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“Fury said you guys wouldn’t be home until tomorrow,” you tell them, letting your body relax into Bucky’s embrace as Steve traces his fingers across your jawline, tilting your head up so he can press one light kiss to your puckered lips. His arms snake around your waist, sandwiched between your back and Bucky’s chest, fingertips clutching tight onto the loose fabric of the shirt you’re donning and he uses it as leverage to hold you closer to him.

“It was an easy one,” Steve replies, leaning forward just a bit until you’re fully pressed between the two soldiers, your head squished into his chest as he inhales the scent of your shampoo, nose buried into the top of your head. “Can’t believe you called Fury about it - missed us that much, hmm?”

A dry chuckle jostles the body behind you, feeling Bucky’s warm laughter against your neck, and you bite on your bottom lip as you nod. “‘Course I missed you - don’t get cocky -” for you’d just caught sight of Steve’s smug grin, toying his lips upward, and you use the top of your head to push him away from you in mock disgust, leaning further into Bucky’s grasp. He hums softly, breath ruffling your hair, messy from your failed attempts to sleep. “S’so lonely here.”

“Aww,” murmurs Bucky, lips pressing warm kisses into the exposed expanse of your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to give him easier access as Steve crosses his arms over his chest, watching the pair of you at work. “Poor baby.”

“Hey -” you reach behind you, running your hands through long, brunette locks just to feel the way Bucky smiles against your skin. “At least you two have each other on missions, getting each other off - I’m here all by myself. Nothin’ but the fingers.” “There’s a lot less time to get your rocks off in the middle of a mission than you’d think.”

“Is there?” you inquire playfully as Bucky’s lips trail further up your neck, landing on a spot just beneath your jawline and suckling the soft skin - the teasing lilt in your voice that you’d intended to sound confident and self-assured gets breathier and just a tad more pathetic as you continue, “Sam and I always seem to have enough time -”

Bucky grunts against your cheek, murmuring something you can’t quite make out about how he hates that fuckin’ bird boy, and a grin spreads across your face that mirrors Steve’s as he watches you. Bucky tilts your head to the side with two fingers pressed to your chin so he can ghost his lips over yours but you deepen it, pushing your face further into his as you wrap one of your arms around his neck, tugging at his hair to hear him groan into your mouth and you swallow the noise. You can practically sense Steve rolling his eyes both at your teasing and the way Bucky’s absolutely devouring you, the metal hand around your waist trailing up your torso and leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reaches your chest, cold fingers plucking at your nipple, and your chest arches into his hand with a broken gasp into his mouth.

“Better tell Sam not to touch what isn’t his,” Steve tells you, and you nod, watching the blonde take a few steps forward and for a moment you wonder if he’ll lean down, take your lips from Bucky’s and kiss you until you’re practically putty in his hands but instead he pushes past the both of you, disappearing down the hallway behind you, and you crane your neck backwards to watch his back as he vanishes around a corner.

For a moment you wonder if Bucky hadn’t seen him leave, continuing his ministrations on your nipples as his teeth bite at your bottom lip as though there’d been no interruption, his mouth turning up into a smug smirk at the way you whimper into his mouth. God, you’ve missed his touch, clever hands knowing exactly how to make you fall apart for him even without slipping into the lace of your panties, and your mouth opens in a silent gasp as his flesh palm presses to the skin of your stomach.

“Wanna go see Stevie?” the soldier questions into your mouth, voice low and sultry smooth, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Tough mission for him.”

You frown at that as Bucky pulls away from you, leaving one lingering kiss to the side of your throat as he pulls your shirt down over your lower half. “Thought he said it was easy.”

“It was,” and that makes your brows furrow as his metal hand wraps around your wrist, beginning to pull you down the hallway where your bedroom door is swung wide open. “But Fury ripped him a new one, ‘cause he disobeyed his orders - got the mission done fine - but you know how Stevie hates having his authority questioned.”

Your lips part in a silent o, and Bucky smirks ever so slightly before leading you into the bedroom where Steve sits at the edge of the bed, peeling off his suit and kicking it off of his ankles. Bucky shuts the door behind you, immediately working at tugging his vest over his head and you leave him to it, bare feet padding on the hardwood floor until you reach Steve, and you merely stand before him until he’s finished taking his clothes off, leaving him clad in only a pair of boxers.

“Do you need something?” Steve questions, glancing up at you with an amused glint in his eyes and you groan, lifting your leg up to straddle his lap, calves on either side of his, and his hands go to rest on the underside of your thigh like an instinct. For a moment you don’t say anything, grinding your hips down into his until his hands slide up your back, tugging your shirt up over your torso so he can press his cold palms to the globes of your ass, halting you in place. “Words, baby.”

“Want you to boss me around,” you tell him, dropping your lips to the side of his throat, and his dry exhale of a laugh blows at your hair as his fingers slip beneath the scrap of lace between your ass, fully digging into the plump skin, and you smile against his neck. “Missed you bein’ bossy.”

“Really?” You nod, feeling the bed dip beside you until there’s another set of hands on your body, tugging the hem of your shirt up until you’re forced to remove your lips from Steve’s neck so Bucky can pull your shirt off, littering it onto the ground beside you. Steve leans his head back as both you and Bucky lean forward, your lips to his throat and the other soldier taking his lips so that the next words he speaks are muffled into the kiss, “Sure Bucky didn’t put you up to this, baby?”

“Who’s Bucky?”

That makes both of them laugh into each other and you smile, leaning back in his lap as you take in the sight of them - lips crashed together, metal hand burying itself in blonde locks that he hasn’t cut in a while, hair brushing the tips of his ears, and Steve’s hand that had been on your ass drops, seemingly forgotten about his job - you huff, wrap your hand around his wrist, and lift his palm up to rest against your left breast.

Instinctively he squeezes, and the two men pull apart from each other as Bucky leans forward to kiss the top of your head, flesh hand sliding down your stomach until he can push into the damp lace fabric of your panties, and you jolt against his hand as he brushes your clit. “Can’t possibly think we forgot about you,” he tells you, and you shrug, watching the way he smiles. “Come on, Stevie, you heard her - wants you to boss her around.”

And Steve is surely still doubtful of your intentions - it isn’t as though you’ve ever asked him to boss you around before - it typically just happens when he’s pissed or upset or happy -

It happens a lot. He’s a bossy guy, both in the field and out of it, and he’s more than happy to give demands and orders and he loves to see you follow them.

Bucky is - usually along for the ride. He’s the calming voice in your ear when Steve is edging you until you’re screaming, the gentle touch when you’ve been overstimulated for an hour, the smooth, sultry kiss when you’re being filled so deep from both ends you feel entirely numb - and he can be mean, too, metal hand tightening around your throat and smirking at the way you sob -

Well, it depends.

“Get on the bed,” Steve tells you, and regardless of whether he’s suspicious of you and Bucky his voice is already hardening and if the words weren’t implicitly sexual, perhaps you could fool yourself into thinking you’re on the field - you listen, though. You always do - swing your legs off of his lap and land on your back on the bed, watching as Steve stands and Bucky merely turns around, leaning back on his arms as he watches you, your leg hiked up to give a limited, tantalizing view to the lace covered pex of your thighs.

“Buck - wanna get behind our girl?”

The phrase our girl never fails to make your stomach flutter, and the feeling only intensifies as Bucky grunts in affirmation, crawling towards you, and with hands hooked under your armpits he lifts you to sit, your back pressed to his chest. Hands reach up to your chest, cupping your tits in flesh and metal palms that have a chill rolling through your spine, hips grinding back against the erection you can feel pressed into your back.

“Spread your legs,” Steve tells you, and you oblige, feet sliding across the bed to spread yourself as wide open as you can, and Bucky’s metal hand leaves your chest to grab onto one of your thighs, forcing it open wide enough that a burn spreads through your muscle. “Yeah - don’t fuckin’ move, baby - hold her down, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice, moving his other hand so he’s holding both of your thighs, and you can feel wetness dripping down your cunt onto the sheets as Steve stands still, for a moment, just watching the pair of you - your chest heaves and you can feel Bucky’s fingers twitch against your thighs, surely desperate to caress your tits just the way he always likes to, but he wouldn’t dare disobey Steve when he’s like this. You know it, and he knows it, and you’re sure Steve knows it too - he looks so smug, even as he climbs onto the bed, resting on his stomach as he presses his cheek into your thigh, warm breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers hook into the soaked material of your panties, feeling the stickiness that coats your folds and the undergarment, and with not a second of hesitation he rips them in half, tugging them off your leg and tossing the ruined scrap of lace onto the ground.

Your instinct is to reach down and run your fingers through his hair as he lowers his mouth to your pussy, tongue flicking once over your clit, but the second your hands jerk in their spot resting overtop of Bucky’s, Steve is reaching up - one hand manages to wrap around both of your wrists, holding your hands in place on top of your stomach with a grip so tight it’ll surely leave bruises that will darken in the morning.

You groan softly as Steve lifts his head, gaze hard and unforgiving as he stares at you, and then his gaze moves behind you where you know he must be having some sort of silent conversation with Bucky - they’re so good at that - before he’s leaning back down, teeth gnashing at your clit with enough force to make you jolt.

“Think Stevie said not to fuckin’ move, sweetie,” Bucky murmurs, lips sucking a dark hickey just beneath your ear, and a low whine escapes your throat as Steve’s tongue laps up your sticky folds before centering on your clit. “Didn’t you, honey?” And Steve hums in affirmation, pulling back to spit harshly at your clit, and you exhale skaily as you feel the glob of coldness trickle down your folds. “Move again, and I’ll punish you,” he tells you, which is more generous than he typically is when he’s in this state but you suppose the excitement of arriving home after a shitty, weekend mission must not have worn out yet. “Be a good girl for us, baby.”

You nod furiously, Bucky’s forearms hooking beneath your knees until the ache in your thighs nearly tips the balance of pain and pleasure but it’s still leaning towards the latter - more so as Steve dips his head back down, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub at your core that tears a moan from your throat, and you bite at your lips to try and silence the noises.

“Never told you to be quiet,” Steve mumbles against your cunt, vibrations from his voice sending a shiver up your spine, and Bucky smiles against one of the many hickies he’s leaving on your neck - you’re sure you’ll look a damn sight tomorrow, made of practically entirely concealer to hide the marks he’s obsessed with, but you don’t have it in you to stop. “Let us hear your noises - how good we’re making you feel.”

You drop your head back into Bucky’s shoulder with a desperate cry as Steve’s flexed tongue circles your clit before running back down your slit, parting your folds until he can slip his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out a few times, lips turning upwards at your resulting whine. Bucky’s nails leave deep, crescent-shaped indentations in the smooth skin of your inner thigh, and you can feel his erection pressed thick and swollen against your back. Surely he’s just as wound up as you are - and as much as Steve is, his hips rutting against the edge of the bed as though of their own accord - but he doesn’t do much of anything at all to alleviate the pressure, breathy exhales in your ear as your hips rub against his bulge.

“Wanna hold her open for me, Buck?” Steve questions, pulling back just a mere inch from your swollen clit before dipping his head back down, tongue licking a fat stripe through your folds before lust-blown blue orbs lift up to meet the ones behind you - you can feel Bucky’s hair, brushing against your cheek as he nods once, and your brows furrow in confusion. Surely he’s already holding you open, hands forcing your thighs so far apart that you can feel the burn in every inch of your body - and then he drops one of your thighs against the bed, metal hand trailing down to your cunt, and his fingers dip through your folds, spreading them apart and exposing your swollen clit further to the blonde between your legs. Steve adjusts himself, moving towards the side so he can press his face into your pussy without hitting Bucky’s fingers, and his tongue circles your clit once more.

You moan at the sight, nearly going cross eyed as you stare down at Steve. It’s so erotic, watching everything in your most sacred of areas, Bucky’s fingers and Steve’s face buried so intensely into your cunt you’re sure he can’t possibly breathe - he moans against your folds every so often, as though the act of giving you pleasure makes him feel just as good, and you don’t doubt it for a moment.

“Steve -” you gasp, back arching up, and Steve uses his hand around your wrist to force you back down onto the bed wordlessly - you drop pathetically back onto the duvet, a tear sliding down your cheek, and you can hear Bucky tut behind you, cold fingers slipping on the moisture coating your folds. “Steve - fuck -”

“Gonna cum, baby?” “Yes,” you breathe, hips bucking backwards into Bucky’s erection and he lets out a choked gasp into your ear, head falling back against the headboard with a loud thud that rings through the room. “Yes, need to - please -”

Steve pulls away, then - you cry out at the loss of warmth between your legs - and his nose nudges Bucky’s fingers, prompting the soldier behind you to take the cue to dip his metal digits into your cunt, the cold thickness stretching you out until you’re preening at the sensation. “Think she’s been a good girl? Think she should cum, Buck?”

You want to scream at the pause between the question and Bucky’s answer - he hums for a moment, as though in deep thought, fingers buried down to the knuckle inside of you and body practically leaning over yours so his metal arm can reach, brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision go fuzzy. He takes too fucking long, Steve’s grasp on your wrist pressed to your tummy the only thing keeping your hips from bucking up to force pressure into your cunt, before he finally says, “You’ve been good for us, haven’t you?”

“Yes!” you practically squeal as his fingers pull out hardly an inch before pumping back in, curling upwards again to hit your G-spot. “Yes, please, been so good, Bucky -”

“Cum for us, sweetie -”

You hardly wait for him to finish his sentence when Steve lowers his lips to your clit, wrapping around the bud and sucking until his cheeks hollow out, and your hips jerk desperately into his face as the waves of euphoria rack through your body, tearing a desperate sob from your throat as Bucky thrusts his fingers in and out of you, nearly hitting the side of Steve’s face in his haste to get you off, and he’s doing a damn good job at it - your hips jut into his back as you cum into their mouth and fingers, stuttering groans leaving your mouth one after another.

Steve’s mouth never leaves your clit - not even when your hips thrash against his mouth and you tear your hands free of his grasp to dig into his hair, attempting to stop his ministrations on your clit but he refuses - your folds drip wetness into his waiting mouth and he laps it up like a man dying of thirst, Bucky’s fingers lazily thrusting in and out of you as his chest rises and falls against your back, dropping your other thigh to hook an arm around your torso and hold you close to him.

Hold her down, Steve had told him, and he seems more than content to oblige with the order, whispering loving nothings in your ear that you can’t bring yourself to understand, words coming through as nothing more than incoherent babble to your brain muddled with the pressure to cum already building in your core again -

“Oh,” you whimper, heels digging into the mattress as Steve’s tongue laps over your folds and Bucky’s finger before settling on your clit again, flicking the nub over and over until you feel yourself fucking burst - “oh, fuck!”

It’s entirely more intense than the first one, Steve’s teeth nibbling at your clit as you topple over the edge like a row of dominoes - fire shoots through every limb, every crevice of your body until you’re shaking, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes and trickling down to your jawline. Your thighs tense, a high pitched cry piercing the air of the room as the aftershocks overtake your body, leaving you trembling into Bucky’s grasp as Steve pulls off your clit with a pop.

“That’s good,” Bucky whispers into your ear, pulling his metal fingers out of you once the shaking rolling through your body has come to a relative halt - through your blurred vision you can see Steve take the digits in his mouth, licking them clean eyes rolling up to meet Bucky’s, and he groans softly. “Good girl.”

Steve leaves one last kiss to your swollen clit before moving up your body, and you’re quick to lean forward, wrapping a quivering arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss - it’s rough and biting, teeth clashing together and his tongue swiping into your mouth without a moment for you to catch your breath, and when he pulls away his breathing is noticeably heavier than before.

“Yeah, you’re good for us,” he tells you, bringing a hand up to stroke at the soft skin of your cheek before pulling it back and smacking it back down - it’s not hard, not by a long shot, but it’s enough to draw another whimper from your throat at the soft sting. “On your knees.”

Your legs feel shaky but you manage to push yourself to your knees, resting your arms around Steve’s shoulders to hold yourself up as Bucky shuffles behind you, slotting his hips against your ass so you can feel his bulge through his boxers - he grinds himself into your ass, sliding his arms around your waist just as Steve tugs his own boxers down, fist lazily pumping his cock as you watch him.

“You know what?” the blonde murmurs after a moment of you watching him, your cunt throbbing in need. “Think I’m gonna take your throat.”

You whine at that as Steve pulls away abruptly, leaving you nearly collapse onto your stomach but Bucky’s arm around your stomach mercifully holds you up, practically manhandling you as he turns you around, shoving you onto your back with your head nearly dangling off the bed as he crawls up your body, leaving lingering kisses on the smooth expanses of skin exposed to him. Large hands force your thighs open, pushing his hips in between your legs, and you whimper as his cock rubs against your overstimulated clit, even through the fabric of his boxers -

Steve stands beside the bed, smoothing his fingers through your matted hair as you come face to face with his cock, throbbing red and leaking precum down the sides, and your mouth practically waters at the sight - then Bucky’s pulling his own boxers down, swollen tip of his dick sliding through your sodden folds wettened from the aftermath of two orgasms. You push your thighs farther apart, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for Steve and he grins down at you, the expression looking less joyful and more downright smug and don’t you love seeing him like this? All dominant and intense, like he could control you if he pleased, and he does please -

His cock shoves forward into your throat at the same moment Bucky sheathes himself inside of your cunt fully, and a choked cry forces its way out of your mouth, reverberating through Steve’s body until he lets out a strangled grunt. Your nose brushes against the trimmed hair at his pelvis, hollowing your throat to take him in the best you can, and his grip on your hair tightens as leverage to hold you onto him.

“Oh - oh, shit,” Bucky gasps, the noise stuttered and breathy, and the hands on your thigh move up to squeeze your waist, grasp tough and bruising against your skin. “Fuck, fuck -”

You gag around Steve as he finally pulls out of your mouth, leaving just the tip on your tongue, and you swirl it around him - he drops his head back with a groan and when he speaks, his words are shallow, controlled - “Feels good, Buck?”

“So good, Stevie -” Bucky thrusts himself out of you before pushing back in, cunt stretching around his girth and your eyes roll back at the coil of pleasure already building in your lower stomach as his pace picks up, hips working faster and faster until the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowers your desperate mixture of moans and cries -

Nearly. Not completely.

Steve tugs at your hair and you remember your job to suck him off and you let him push your head forward, lips wrapping around his girth and tongue flattening to lap at the thick vein on the underside - his resulting groan is immediate, is desperate, and your urge to smile is only thwarted by Bucky’s metal hand pressing to your clit as his hips slam against yours.

Your hips jerk against his, pressure on the most sensitive point of your body making your eyes roll back once more as Steve’s cock slides in and out of your throat, both hands buried tight in your hair until there’s nothing else you can do than just take both of them - you bring your hands from their spot clutching the duvet to your tits, shaking fingertips kneading at your peaked nipples, and you’re not sure if the needy whine that emits from Bucky’s throat is due to his cock slamming into your pussy or from the sight of you toying with your boobs, but either one is reasonable, you decide.

It takes hardly a moment to work the three of you into a rhythm, but when you get it, it’s perfect - Bucky thrusts into you, filling you up so deep you swear you can feel him in every crevice of your body, and once he pulls out Steve pushes himself into your mouth, tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat just to hear you gag around him. Every once in a while, though, there’s a stutter in the pattern, and both men pull out to ram into your cunt and mouth at the same time, and the three of you cry out in unison.

Bucky’s flesh hand moves to your thigh, pushing it up so far that your knee nearly touches your chest and the burn only heightens the pleasure he’s giving you as he hits the sweet spot buried deep in your cunt over and over like he’s memorized exactly where it is - and surely he has - they know your body better than you do, sometimes - know just how to make you scream. Metal fingers tweak at your clit and your hips grind up into his, pushing him deeper and deeper into you, and you moan around Steve’s dick.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bucky groans, hips slowing deliberately in pace but it’s still fast enough to make your head spin - Steve moves one hand to your face, grabbing your chin and holding you in place with his cock still halfway down your throat. “Fuck - want me to fill you up, sweetie?”

You nod.

“Tell me,” he insists, and your eyes squeeze shut as you exhale through your nose. “Want me to fill you up?”

Steve pulls out until only the tip of his length rests in your mouth, and you swallow thickly before saying, words a desperate sob, “Please - please cum in me, Bucky, baby, please - fill me up -”

“Good girl,” the brunette between your thigh grunts, squeezing your clit harshly and your back arches, Steve slipping his cock all the way back in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and you gag around him as he moans. “Good - fuckin’ - girl -”

With a few more harsh thrusts into your pussy Bucky’s hips halt, pressed taut to yours, filling you to the brim, and his head drops backwards, lips parting with a drawn out, silent scream before he fully cries out, and you feel his ribbons of cum in your cunt - the warmth filling you up is enough to snap the coil building in your abdomen and you sob around Steve as you cum onto Bucky, core clenching around him like a vise as he holds you to him.

“Yes, yes -” Bucky’s voice sounds far away as your muscles go lax, collapsing like putty onto the bed with the grasps on your head and your hips the only thing grounding you to Earth - “yes, takin’ me so fuckin’ good -”

It’s then that Steve gives one last thrust, deep in your throat, and his grip on your chin forces you to look up at him, meeting his stern eyes and he’s so close you can see it reflected in his orbs - they’re dark, pupils wide, and you whimper. “Don’t swallow,” he whispers, tone sounding similar to that of a hiss, and you nod. “Don’t swallow a single drop.”

Your head bobs up and down as Steve’s hand pumps up and down the base of his cock, his cry strangled and needy when he finally releases into your mouth - he cums in spurts onto your tongue and you keep it stuck out for him, trying to resist the overwhelming desire to swallow everything he’s given you but he looks so proud of you when he’s finished and every drop still rests on your tongue and you prefer that look of admiration over the taste, really.

“Kiss her, Buck -”

And Bucky doesn’t have to be told twice, both hands moving to your neck and pulling you up so vigorously your head is spinning when he crashes his lips to yours. His tongue slips into your mouth and you part your lips for him, cum dribbling out of the sides of your mouth and he laps it up like a dying man, palms pressed to your tits. You can see the bob of his throat when he swallows everything you’ve forced into his mouth and you swallow the rest, parting your lips from him with a gasp, practically heaving for air in the bedroom that suddenly feels humid, smelling of sex and cum and desire and remarkably like your two boys themselves.

Steve collapses onto the bed first. He grabs for Bucky, tugging him into his chest and you sit on your knees for a moment, simply watching them - they fall into tandem with each other like they were made for it, and maybe they were, Steve’s face nuzzling into Bucky’s back and you’re never surprised by the sudden vulnerability of your captain immediately after sex. The first time you’d joined them you’d suspected he was embarrassed but you don’t think he is

He’s in love.

It’s a sweet thought.

Bucky wraps his metal hand around your wrist and pulls you down to him, his chin resting on top of your head as you press your cheek to his sweaty chest, feeling his arm wrap around your back. He’s silent, using his foot to kick the comforter up from where it’s been shoved to the bottom of the bed, and when it’s far enough up Steve reaches down to pull it over the three of you, drowning you in its warmth even though you’re not feeling quite cold anymore.

“I don’t know,” you say, after a moment of silence, voice muffled against Bucky’s chest. “It feels like I’m the only one getting ganged up on, nowadays.”

They laugh at that, Bucky’s flesh palm smoothing up and down your back. “You asked for it,” Steve tells you, and you shrug.

“Still.” You move to rest your chin on Bucky’s chest, and he nearly goes cross eyed to meet your eyes as he looks down at you. “Maybe, one of these days, we could tie Stevie up. Have our way with him.”

“He’d love that,” Bucky muses, and you can practically hear Steve rolling his eyes.

“Yeah - right after a mission, when he’s all wound up -”

“Hey,” Steve warns, and you smile.

“I don’t think there are restraints strong enough for those muscles, anyway,” you murmur, and Bucky smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

You fall into silence again, and after a couple of minutes you hear Steve’s soft snoring, followed by Bucky’s, until you’re the last awake between the three of you. They’re rightfully exhausted, surely getting little to no sleep over the weekend - you like hearing how peaceful they sound when they’re resting, even after fucking you so silly you were practically crying.

You smile as you bury your face into Bucky’s chest. Shit, maybe Fury was right - maybe they do balance each other out, a bit.

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natsukitakama · 3 years

Text

Headcanon : Control feat Floch Forster

"Well since some writers claim that Floch would be rough in bed then how about smut Floch with a fem soft s/o, she’s not exactly a tease person, she’s just incredibly shy, needy and sensitive who gets embarrassed easily. I’m really curious if Floch would be rough or gentle with her if his s/o is soft and shy but when she’s naked, she gets embarrassed and cover herself"

Author note : Gotta admit I’m a little bit curious too, I mean the big boi got a huge switch energy. Like I can’t totally picture him being a 100%DOM or a 100%SUB maybe it’s just me but I feel like he is a switch a big one. I wrote a headcanon + a tiny scenario.

As usual I apologize for taking so long I hope you’ll enjoy it ♡

Also I don’t know what to do with my life anymore lol was it nasty enough ? Was it good ? I need to write more caliente headcanon I’m still insecure about it lol

Warning : NSFW / SMUT / Mention of spoil from season 4

SMUT : mention of spanking, mention of spitting, mention of rough sex, a little bit of hair pulling nothing bad

Masterlist

Sex with Floch is difficult, there’s nothing wrong with neither of you.

Since his return with Shinganshima, he kinda lost a part of him. He was never the tender one but this event surely broke what was left of his kindness.

It doesn’t mean he would act violently toward you, but he became easily frustrated and not in the good way. Meaning sometimes he will get angry easily, he tends to be violent each time someone doesn’t agree with him. He became a monster but he hasn't known that yet.

Now, he was really in love with you and knowing your personality he couldn’t really be too rough on you.

A part of him really enjoy being rough on you, knowing he was corruption you a little bit more each time he was thrusting into you. It fascinated him the way you would bend at each of his command, opening your mouth when it told you so, screaming begging when he gave you an order. Instead of being rough for the thrill of it, he was rough on you because he loves seeing you getting all red from pleasure not being able to talk because he was fucking you dumb.

Since back in Shinganshima he couldn’t control anything, he would be in control now especially in his sex life and since you were just co compliant with him. He couldn’t just leave this opportunity.

The fact that you were so shy around him even though you’ve been naked in front of him a lot of times never felt to tease him to be a little more rougher on you. Your personality just triggers his « dark instinct »

Now, we must not forget that in the beginning Floch was and would remain a switch, which mean sometimes he needs to feel you taking care of him. To put it simple Shinganshima broke him, and since no one tries to bring him back, he works on his own to not just fall apart.

Some times he needs comfort, some times he needs to be in control. Especially for sex, during a period, when he felt especially « weak » or at least fragile, he would put extra roughness on you meaning he’ll tend to bend you over a desk or anything for that matter as long as he can bend you over, moving your ass up spreading your legs widely so he could get a nice view of your ass and leg.

He might even went as far as to took a bunch of your hair and pull it so you would scream at the pain, and while your mouth would be widely open he won’t hesitate and spit into your mouth.

He also tends to put extra slapping at your ass just because he feels like it

You’re lucky that he is hitting all the good spot, cause the man is too lost on his own pleasure to even notice that well he is particularly rough. But don’t worry, you two got safe word just in case he is too lost on his feeling.

Or, when he feels cocky or just because he is tired from his works. Floch would just lay down on his bed, hands behind his head as you’re looking at him expecting to be taken by him. Then he will just narrow one of his brown eye and say « what ? You’re expecting me to take care of you ? Naah it’s not how it’s work (scuse me sir aren’t you the one who broke me last night ???) you want me y/n then take that cock cause I won’t put a single finger for you ».

But when he feels lonely or sad, or just because you feel like you needed to put him at his place. Spank him, edge him, overstimulate him, make him beg for release and that fucker would even cum harder than usual (little bastard). There’s one thing he might be against, it’s pegging, like a finger or a two why not but a whole toy in his butt ? You’ll need to be a little more convincing for this one (read : fuck him dumbs until he can’t even remember his name and he won’t even whine)

But to do that you’ll need to be extra confident with that, cause even though he is a switch don’t forget that he is most and foremost a jerk, so basically he won’t let you have his way with you easily especially if you tend to be super shy.

If you think that fucker won’t tease the hell out of you for being cocky ? You don’t know Floch.

« Well well what do we have here ??? And here I thought you were innocent Y/N »

« S-Shut up Floch »

« Make me. »

Damn brat *cough cough*

Anyway, if during foreplay or even in the « it » of the moment you felt insecure or sad, use your safe word, Floch isn’t really good at reading people and he might think you were acting extra shy as usual while in fact you were feeling bad over something. Then proceed to explain to him what’s wrong.

He is the stupid worshipper. Always like « Huh ? You think you’re ugly ? Are you stupid ? Of course you’re hot look at you ? I thought you were smarter than y/n » damn buddy it hurts coming from you. Also the dirty worshipper.

« Such a nasty hole you are y/n look at it all clutching around nothing waiting for me to fill it entirely. Fuck you’re wonderful y/n »

« Mamama look at those legs they were made to be wrapped around my hips »

« Damn it y/n you sure know how to suck a cock »

« Look at you taking my cock so well, I swear your swallow me without a blink of an eye what a good slut you are y/n »

Yeah that’s his praise

I’m sorry

He’s doing his best

So yeah he might be a switch if you’re too shy to dom him, well all he has to do his to take the leas right ?

Now if we’re focusing about your first time not just with him, like if you’re a virgin that would be another story.

A part of him want to be extra rough on you like he will corrupt you, you know ? Not really a kink of him but the thought of it got his dick hard as rock so safe to say that he is not against the idea of fucking you dumb.

But as the thought was starting to drive him crazy he realized that for a first time, knowing your personality being quite shy and embarrassed easily he might not be the best idea to just jump into you. Maybe taking your time together would be for the best, so both of you would learn about each other’s body, sweet spot, what to do or not do.

He won’t be too vanilla because that’s not how he is especially now that he joined the yeagarist, in fact his return from Shinganshima changed him into a cold man, mentally instable but somehow strong when it came to follow his belief, but still as I stated before he always needed control but also need a way to get out of his nightmare. So being rough with you in bed sound like a perfect way to escape his reality, of course it’s not healthier way but it’s work so he won’t complain.

Now that being said, even if it won’t be your first time together I can’t see him forcing you into things that make you uncomfortable. He is a dick, but he cares about you. He might try to convince you to at least give it a shot, especially if he felt that the reason that you’re refusing it’s just you being shy (even if he told in his own way that there no need to be shy round him). But he felt that something scares you, he won’t force you and won’t even bring it again.

I don’t feel like he is into gun play/ arm play for that matter, not into blood play either. He is surrounded by blood and weapons all the time, sex with you is supposed to be a safe place where he can escape his old demons so no gun for the baby.

In conclusion, the fact that you are shy angel won’t stop him for being you so it’s up to you to tell him what’s good for you or not.

I know for a shy person it’s difficult to talk about the sensitive subject but remember that communication is a key, he might be a dick and sometimes you’d feel like you can’t talk to him like he is an ass (he is but hey you love him) like he didn’t care about your opinion but that’s not true, you are important and probably the only thing that matter to him (aside from saving paradise but you includes so) so don’t be afraid.

Tiny scenario because it took me forever to post it as a compensation :

« Fuck yeah you feel amazing y/n »

For some reason today Floch was particularly generous with you, not that usually he is not. But today he felt like spoiling you. At first it started with multiple hot make-out session everytime you two were alone. Pushing you against the near wall or holding you against his firm chest, it’s like his lips couldn’t leave yours for like one minute. One of his hand was behind your neck keeping your head firmly against him as the other left for your ass to grab it. Your body was caught between his body and the wall, so all you could do was putting your arm around his neck and just enjoy his warmth as he was greedily kissing you. After all, you hadn’t got the chance to see your boyfriend for a while, to be exact after your mission in Mahr and the capture of Eren you barely caught a moment together to share a kiss. He claimed that there was nothing against you and that he was just very busy since the situation between Mahr and Paradis was still tight.

So, his little greediness was welcomed, you couldn’t help but starting to feel touch starved. You were missing him to the point that you started to wear some of his coat just to be able to catch some of his warmth. Of course you didn’t say anything about it, knowing your boyfriend you wouldn’t see the end of it. After kissing you for like the tenth time, Floch finally moved a little to be able to see you from your entirety. Lips swollen slightly open as you were taking your breath since he barley left you time to take a breath, hair a little messy for the way he was grabbing it firmly, cheeks all pink (probably because you were both embarrassed and turned on by his action). It was definitely a view that was worth it. Since his return from Mahr, Floch hasn't had time much to his dismay to mange some quality time with you, hell he couldn’t even remember the last you two has gone on a date together. Knowing the situation, and what was about to happen with the yeagarist he won’t be able to take you on a date before a long time. So he felt like he needed to take every occasion to have his way with you, kissing you, stroking your body, feeling you against him cause who knows when he’ll be able to have you close to him again ? He was starting to feel angry and eager;

Alongside, let’s be honest the yeagarist didn’t do anything to help him. All the time, he could hear them whining about some soldier who apparently wasn’t on their side, or about the fact that yeah some of them have spent a couple of days in jail. They were starting to get on his nerve, most of them were just spoiled brat who never went into hell and here they have the guts to complain about their condition ? What a shame. He started to feel his shoulder getting heavy. His muscles too were sore, his patience was slowly disappearing worst, he started to have nightmares again. It all started because he wasn’t with you, because he barely spent time with you. He needed you. He needed you right now.

« Floch a-are you okay ? Y-You keep staring at me »

« Do I ? Sorry you just looked amazing all fucked up because of him »

« I-I’m not fucked up »

« Yet. »

A race and a couple of clothes on the floor later, here you were bending over his bed. Face down with a hand firmly against your neck, ass up all good for Floch as he was grinding against you as if it would be the last time that you two would have sex. You were used to Floch being rough against you and to be honest you didn’t mind it since he was hitting all the good spot, and the way he is grunting each time you were clutching against him was music to his hear. Also the dirty talk didn’t help. But today was different, for some reason the foreplay lasts longer than usual, you noticed that Floch took extra time kissing each inch of your body, stroking everything that he might forget. He also ate you out longer than usual putting extra time to make you cum multiple time before he could even put the head of his dick in you. You didn’t mind though, it was good to be spoiled by Floch without even begging for it.

« I could spend my life between your leg y/n but now it’s time for the real fun, come on I want you on four for me. Spread those gorgeous legs of yours for me cause I can’t spend any minute without being in you »

As he was thrusting into you senseless, you felt that he was slowing down but still keeping a firm rhythm against you. Then you felt your body moving, so you could be face to him, he moved his own body too bringing your ankle around his head as your legs were now on his shoulder. The light coming from the windows highlight his toned chest and his arm muscles, his hair were a mess from all the time he put them in place. Even after getting intimate with him multiple times, getting naked in front of him was still something that embarrassed you. He knew that. So it was no surprise for you that you hear him chuckled at your state before slowing down putting your knee at your chest, so he could kiss you again for like the hundred time.

« You felt like heaven babe I’m not kidding I can die now it would be perfect. So tight and warm for me »

And then as if nothing happened, he roughly starts to thrust into you. Floch’s head was now in the crook of your neck as he was breathing heavily, your hand were now on his hair grabbing it each time he was hiding your sweet spot. His movement were kinda slow though as he was taking time to thrust deeply into you reaching whenever spot he was looking for, you swore you could feel his head on your stomach or maybe it was just you losing your mind. It didn’t help that you suddenly felt his hand between your leg touching you, stroking you, teasing you so you would approach your climax quicker than him. No doubt that Floch planned to either edge you or overstimulate you, knowing how he spoils you before, he might overstimulate you until you would be nothing but a mess.

How long would you last before loosing your mind ? That’s what Floch was about to know.

#request #Shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titans #aot #floch forster #floch x reader #floch forster x reader #aot floch #snk floch #snk x reader #aot x reader #Floch Forster headcanon #eren yeager #eren jaeger

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acephysicskarkat · 3 years

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Duet

I was just packing up from practicing in my garage when Rosetta shot bolt upright.

Rosetta’s my dragon. She’s mostly a blue, but there aren’t any blue breeds that are crestbacks, so there’s definitely some other stuff in there. Her crest is also malformed, so it flops over to the right all the time instead of standing straight up like crests are supposed to. When I got my undercut, I made sure it flopped over to the right as well, so we matched. She seems to appreciate the ‘do when she’s riding on my shoulder.

Anyway, Rosetta’s awesome. Smarter than some people I’ve met, although to be fair I’ve met some really dumb people. Also, I’ve managed to teach her to play the drums. Some dragons have an amazing sense of music.

In this case, though, she’d apparently heard something in the bushes – yes, even though we’d both just been rocking out for the last twenty minutes. I don’t know how her ears work. I put down my electric guitar and went to have a look…

…and found a white dragon.

I looked up a lot of dragon breeds when I was a kid and obsessed with them, so I recognised him as a purebred at once. Specifically, he was a seraph – a rare and very expensive featherwing breed, with a long, wavy feather sticking out the back of his head like a ponytail.

“Hey there, little guy,” I said, keeping my voice gentle and sing-song – at least, as far as I could. “Someone’s gotta be missing you. Come on, I’m not gonna hurt you…”

Cold fangs nipped at my fingers, but after a few moments, the newcomer seemed to decide I could be trusted. A heart-shaped tag on a simple but expensive-looking collar told me that this was Ludwig, and gave an address. Needless to say, it was on the rich side of town; if you lived anywhere else, getting a seraph would probably leave you in a cardboard box.

“You up for a trip, little buddy?” I said, and Ludwig hopped up onto my wrist. “Great. Let’s go find your owner.”

***

The house Ludwig’s collar pointed me at wasn’t the biggest in the district, but since my house is basically six rooms including the garage, which doesn’t even have a car in it, it still made my place look like a shoebox. And here I was carrying a dragon probably worth as much as a car.

Some low, shitty part of me whispered that I should just run away and sell the thing, but I felt the comforting weight of Rosetta on my shoulder and shut that thought down. I knew how I’d feel if Rosetta went missing. I wasn’t going to inflict that on anyone, not even for a big sack of money.

I was just about to knock on the door when it swung open and all my brain’s resources were assigned to Being Gay simultaneously.

She was gorgeous. Blue eyes, a tight ponytail of night-dark hair, wearing a tailored shirt and elegant pants, carrying a handbag that probably cost more than anything I’d ever owned and holding a bundle of Missing Dragon posters with Ludwig’s picture on them and the legend “IF FOUND, CALL GWYNEIRA” and a number I couldn’t quite make out. Standing there in my leather jacket, pride pins on full display, an old skirt, hand-repaired glasses and big, tough boots, I felt like a nail driven into a classical painting. I had no business being here and I knew it.

After a frozen second, her face broke into a smile. “You found him! Thank you so much!”

“Uh.” My brain whirred for a few agonisingly slow seconds, and then some parts of it kicked into gear. “He was hanging around my garage. Must have heard my music and thought it sounded interesting.”

“Oh, a fellow musician!” she said. “What instrument, pray tell?”

“Well, I dabbled when I was a kid, but these days I mostly stick with the axe.”

“Axe? You mean a weapon?”

“No, I mean an electric-” A stray neuron sparked back to life. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

She gave a too-innocent wide-eyed look and then started laughing. After a few moments, I did too.

She reached out, and Ludwig hopped across from my wrist to hers. She waggled a finger under the dragon’s snub little nose and said, “I hope you won’t be pulling any more disappearing acts, Ludwig.” Ludwig gave a smug, catlike smile and hopped up to her shoulder, and she turned back to me, reaching into her bag. “I didn’t have time to put the posters up, but I was planning to give a reward for finding him-”

Take the money, Vetra, you dumbass, the parts of my brain that were functioning said. Your amp is so old it was designed for the mandolin. Take the money, stick it in a jar, and when you have enough money, buy an amp that isn’t held together with baling twine.

Then my mouth, operating entirely independently from those parts, said, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” When my treacherous head nodded, she said, “Then at least allow me to buy you dinner.”

***

I was crammed into the only halfway decent dress I owned and had eaten something about half the size of an actual proper meal, but somehow I was still having a great time.

“So then we found the drummer hanging from the tree, in his underwear, rope around his ankle, and all he had to say when we let him down was, ‘I hate chipmunks.’” Gwyneira choked back a laugh, and I shook my head. “The band didn’t last long after that, although the bass player still crashes on my couch when he’s in town.”

“Such an…adventurous lifestyle,” she said, and sipped her wine.

“But I’ve probably rambled long enough.” I stabbed what I had been assured was the correct fork into a too-small morsel of chicken and said, “You said you were a musician, but you haven’t even told me what instrument.”

“Oh, how rude of me.” She cut a slice off…well, I don’t speak French, so whatever it was she was eating, and said, “I’m a violinist.”

“Huh. Just as a hobby, or-”

“Professionally.” She adjusted the cuffs on her suit, an outfit choice that was just deeply unfair. “Have you ever studied much classical music?”

Show her how smart you are. “Tell the truth, uh…I never really got into it. I like my music with a bit more impact to it, you know?” I mimed shredding on the air guitar. Nailed it.

“I think I can show you plenty of impact,” she said, her delicate features arranged into a cocky smirk. “Come to my place tomorrow afternoon, and bring your…‘axe’.”

***

Rosetta took a deep breath and spat lightning into the amplifier. For some reason, dragon thunder-breath doesn’t just charge a battery; it keeps it charging. I scratched her behind the ear, and she grinned up at me, then spread her wings and soared over to the drums.

Ludwig raised his head from the piano, and Gwyneira started to play.

Notes didn’t fall from the violin; they rose, soaring into the air like birdsong. Her voice, just as high and pure, mingled with it, underscored but never challenged by the slow, measured notes of Ludwig on the piano.

It was beautiful, but I wasn’t just here to listen.

I was here to play.

As the notes from the violin started to die away, I flicked my plectrum between my fingers like an old-time riverboat hustler playing with a coin. Rosetta chose the tempo, her bunched-up claws striking the drums, a drumstick wrapped in her tail striking a cymbal, and my axe sang as I began: not the high, pure note of birdsong, but the howl of an iron wolf.

After a few bars, the piano started up again, but without its previous dignity and reserve. Ludwig, apparently, relished the chance to cut loose a bit. His claws struck the keys with speed rather than precision, keeping up with the beat of the drum and the snarl of the electric guitar, mixing in the occasional, perfectly timed glissando.

Then the violin’s song started up again.

Gwyneira’s eyes were closed, but she was keeping up with the much faster tempo like she was born to it, her bow dancing over the strings. Her violin and my guitar weaved notes around each other, twining together like the tails of dragons in love. It was like we were instinctively opening spaces for the other to slip into, letting the instruments work together rather than battle for dominance.

It was the kind of jam session you usually only get once in a lifetime.

***

Anyway, that’s how I met my girlfriend.

I own some nicer clothes, now. I speak a little French. And, you know, I’m starting to get along with classical music. I mean, give me the faster ones any day – you should hear my cover of Rondo Alla Turca on the electric guitar, it’ll knock your socks off – but, you know, we meet halfway.

And I mean halfway. Gwyneira looks like a goddess in anything, but when she’s let her hair out of its ponytail? When she’s at a rock concert, just letting it all out, headbanging along? It’s amazing. She’s amazing.

There have been challenges – you try finding good homes for an entire clutch of half-seraph, half-mongrel dragon hatchlings sometime – but we’re going pretty damn well. She’s even talked about starting a proper band – weaving classical and rock together.

And if that never comes to pass? If we can’t get a gig or find a good rhythm guitar? At least we can still jam together.

#original fiction #dragons #rock and roll stories #quick romance fiction #fluff #i guess

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woah-were-halfway-there · 4 years

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Dating Auston Matthews Would Include...

A/N: this wasn’t requested or anything, I just felt like making a list. Enjoy ☺️

A gradual start to the relationship

Like the two of you start as friends before it goes anywhere

But, he's met his match with you, so he's in it for the long haul

He'd be so excited but also extremely nervous to tell his family about you

Especially his mom

"So mom, there's this girl."

"I know."

"Wait. What?"

"Your sisters told me. I hear she's lovely."

It'd mean the world to him that you got along with them

Him not being huge on PDA

But low(high)key gets jealous when others are giving you unwanted attention

If someone is hitting on you or making suggestive comments, he'd try his best not to make a scene

But would undoubtedly let the person know you're his through actions

Like casually snaking his arm around his waist and pulling you closer to him while forcing the fakest of smiles as he introduces himself to whoever it is talking to you

Say the two of you are at a group dinner and the waiter/waitress is a wee bit flirty towards you

It's a no from Auston, dawg

He wouldn't say anything but he would definitely give some (not so) subtle glares to the other person

And have his hand resting on your thigh/knee, making sure to give it the odd squeeze every once in a while; especially whenever the waiter returned

So much competitiveness

Literally over everything

Such as, something stupid like him betting that he could carry more grocery bags from the car up to the condo than you

Or you asking him to hand you something and him just holding the item above his head saying "only if you can reach it".

He's a headache, but he's your headache

He'd absolutely love if you were into sports like he was, but also would dig you not really caring about them cause it gives him a little break from it all

But also think about how if it came to a different sport like baseball and the two of you were diehard fans for different teams

Wooo boy

The chirping and pettiness would be unreal especially when those teams played against each other

But it would also be so, so fun

He's a softie, and everyone knows it, but you bring it out of him the most

Like he's whipped

And the guys on the team live for it

Especially when he shows it in little gestures

Such as making pit stops on the way back from practice regardless of who he's with just to pick up your go-to drink from Starbucks

Or being on the road and him hanging out with his teammates but smiling goofily at his phone because of something you sent him

And blushing when he gets called out on it and immediately changing the subject

He just loves being around you

The two of you are very spontaneous together

Like deciding to go on random long car rides

And walking around the city late at night without a care in the world

But even with your spontaneity

You both just love being at home together so freaking much

Cuddling on the couch

Watching your favourite movies or a Netflix show the two of you started watching together

And him getting super offended if you even think about going ahead and watching an episode without him

"I think you're being a tad dramatic about this, Auston."

"Well, then maybe you shouldn't have watched the season finale while I'm not there."

"Yeah, ok, now here's what happened..."

"DON'T SPOIL IT!"

In a room full of people he always has eyes for you

Whether that be staring at you from where he's sat only a few feet away while visiting friends or family; waiting for you to react to the meme he just sent you

Or always looking to that one spot in the crowd at the arena where he knows you're sitting, wearing his jersey, and smiles widely or winks while skating back to the bench after scoring a goal

Cause he's a cocky mf'er

But it's fine

It's cool

And then the two of you are alone, and it's a whole other story

If you know what I mean 👀

Bow chicka wow wow

MOVING ON

You're one of his biggest supporters, but he's also your number one fan

You post a picture on Instagram? Not long after you'll hear him make a pleased noise from the other room before being notified of him commenting a bunch of fire emojis

Regardless of what you do in life, he's always cheering you on

And offering you a shoulder to lean on when things become too much

It works both ways

But he has more trouble expressing his frustrations than you do and tends to get mopey instead

Like after a big game loss

He'd just be quiet and either not want to talk about it or blame everything on himself

And you'd listen

Let him vent before putting in your two cents of how he doesn't need to be so hard on himself

But most of all, just being there for him

Which he appreciates more than he could ever explain

He always gets your opinion on things

Whether that be a new suit or a birthday gift to get for one of his sisters, it doesn't really matter

And since he values your opinion so much, he also knows you'd never judge him for having a different one

Maybe the hat he wanted to wear with a suit was just a little extra to you, but he likes it, so you just shrug it off. He still looked good regardless

And it wouldn't be just about fashion or gifts

He'd send you new songs he liked and thought you would enjoy too

Maybe even make you the odd playlist

Who knows

But it's little things like that where he shows his affection

Because he doesn't always voice it

However, you never have to doubt the love this man has for you

He absolutely loves kissing you

Literally thinks about it while he's away

Even longs for it

And boy does he make use of the time the two of you have together while he's back for home games or during off season

Going on new adventures together

Trying new things

He'd probably try to teach you to rollerblade or something

But would also be down for trying this new craft thing you saw on Pinterest

There would definitely be the odd emotional reunion after spending some time apart regardless of how cheesy the two of you felt because you just love and missed each other so much

You'd be extremely comfortable around each other

Like you could wake up from a night out with friends in the roughest state, and he'd tease you a little bit, but still manage to make you smile

Because he's so freaking cheeky

And flirty, my GOD

But, again, he's basically just a big teddy bear

And just wants to be loved

Which you do so well

"You're the most important girl in my life, I hope you know that."

"I'm gonna tell your mom you said that."

"Wait. No, don't!"

*intro of Mr. Brightside starts playing during a long road trip*

The two of you: *slowly glance at each other knowingly*

Six seconds later, in unison:" COMING OUT OF MY CAGE AND I'VE BEEN DOING JUST FINE."

Cheesy holiday traditions that form over time

Damn right he's making use of that mistletoe every year

Calling each other to rant about any minor inconvenience that may have happened as a way to calm down

Him being extra loud and obnoxious around you just because he can

Him: *loudly entering the condo after making a quick run to the store*

"SomeBODY ONCE TOLD ME."

You: *groans for 18 hours*

The two of you wouldn't fight all that much

But when you do, they're bad

They just suck so much because fights between the two of you are so rare that when they happen, they're definitely over something serious

However, communication is a big thing

And although you both may be grumpy and petty, neither of you want it to last

"Auston?"

"Hmm?"

"You still love me, right?"

"Of course I do."

You and him being literal partners in crime

Plotting against everyone

But no one takes offence to it because the two of you are just harmless goofballs

Talk a big talk but that's about it

You'd always be showing each other new things

Being the CEO's of working smarter, not harder

IKEA trips that would result in one of you getting separated from the other

Inside jokes and references only the two of you get

Because you're each other's best friend

And want nothing but the best

Because the force(love) is strong with this one

You're each other's missing piece that makes a whole

And there is no doubt that the two of you will eventually vow to be each other's person, forever

#nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl headcanon #auston matthews #auston matthews imagines #nhl imagines #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl rpf #hockey imagine #auston matthews fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey rpf #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #I do be proud of that gif I made

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happytsukki · 4 years

Note

can i request a scenario where tsukki is in love with kageyama’s twin sister 😂 maybe she’s a their manager or his classmate????

i had to stop myself from making the miya twins 2.0,,,imagine how powerful the kageyama twins would be if i made reader play volleyball as good as tobio

i think it was supposed to be funny but i cant find the humor anywhere huh 🥴

anyways i made it a bullet point scenario because i was lazy sorry

UNEXPECTED

pairing: tsukishima x kageyama twin sister!reader

while your twin brother, tobio, ruled the court as karasuno’s starting setter, you found yourself tucked away in the farthest place from that gym: the library.

both of you were born with that competitive edge and determination, but you directed that effort into school more than anything else.

maybe you took tobio’s brain cells in the womb because while he struggled to spell “necessary” you were already balancing complex chemical equations.

you were smarter the entire class 4, including the tsukishima kei.

tsukishima prided himself in being the top in his class, so when he notices his name ranked beside #2 after the first exam, he’s beyond pissed (also shocked because who could even be smarter than him?)

once he reads kageyama [y/n] above his name, red sirens are blaring in his head.

k-kageyama? don’t tell me she’s related to that cocky king

you notice his bewildered expression as his finger is frozen on your name, instantly recognizing him as the team’s salty middle blocker that tobio constantly complains about.

you: you’re tsukishima, right? guess you’ll have to study harder next time.

you say with a smug smile and you can practically see the fumes coming out his ears.

tsukishima: enjoy it now, because soon you’ll be under me.

heat rising to his cheeks once he realizes that it could be interpreted as something else.

this begins your newfound rivalry with tsukishima. unfortunately for you two, as the top two students in the class, you’re assigned as the class representatives.

which basically means you’re stuck with him and he’s stuck with you. early mornings, busy lunches, and late evenings. you two find yourselves around each other almost 24/7.

you put up with the fake smiles and forced cooperation to appease the teacher and complete the necessary tasks. but anywhere else besides the classroom, it’s endless banter.

you: i think you made a mistake on the form.

tsukishima: no i didn’t.

you: yes you did.

tsukishima: no you probably did.

you: no it was you.

you’re constantly at each other’s necks, fighting for control and nitpicking every miniscule detail done by the other.

fast forward...it’s gameday and you’re attending for your tobio’s sake, but as you walk to the gym you notice a familiar figure leaning against the door.

tsukshima instantly notices you and takes this as a chance to tease you.

tsukishima: following me even outside of school [y/n]? did you miss me?

you roll your eyes and explain that you’re actually here for your brother but just for an extra kick, you add that if he wanted you to cheer for him, he could’ve just asked nicely ;)

in the end, karasuno wins. but rather than finding yourself beside tobio, you gravitate towards tsukishima.

you’re running towards him at full speed, no stops. a smile that put the sun to shame on your face, eyes glistening with a certain adoration that tsukishima had never seen, especially when they were looking up at him.

then you’re rambling on and on, maybe something about his serves or his blocking but he doesn’t really hear it over the loud doki doki filling his ears.

the weather grows colder, the leaves change color, and tsukishima finds himself falling for you.

it’s the subtle ways he cares for you: telling you to get more sleep, letting you borrow his sweater when he notices your goosebumps, reassuring you after stressing over another test.

one day, you two are left after school to help grade papers. and he stares a little too long—long enough for you to notice.

you: why are you looking at me like that?

tsukishima: like what?

you: like,,,,you’re dying to tell me something hmm.

next thing you know, he’s reaching over the table and running his thumbs along your cheekbones. your eyes flutter shut and you feel yourself melting against the warmth of his lips. it’s soft and tender; filling your heart with butterflies, and you decide, you too, will adore the moon like everyone else.

tsukishima: i like you.

before you can muster up a reply, starry-eyed and blushed cheeks, tobio comes running into the class like a maniac.

tobio: WHAT IS THIS? YOU CANNOT HAVE MY SISTER TSUKISHIMA, GO FIND SOMEONE ELSE.

he’s dragging you away and all you can do is wave goodbye and say “i’ll see you tomorrow tsukki!”

BONUS

tsukishima would be really hesitant to invite you to dinner to meet his family, but once he does they would all love you so much!! his mom absolutely adores you and is so glad that someone can love her son.

akiteru teases tsukishima about being so grown up now and thanks you for putting up with his attitude.

but dinner at your house is another story.

tobio won’t let tsukishima through the door and you practically have to tackle him to move out of the way. he’s shooting daggers at you two during dinner and keeps muttering something under his breath any time tsukishima talks.

but he’s honestly just really overprotective of you and wants only the best for you. 🥺 you have to remind him to back off bc you’re still 5 minutes older

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu writing #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu headcanons #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima fluff #i literally had to rewrite this bc it didnt make sense #and i kinda hate it oops

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hatsukeii · 4 years

Note

okay just to mix it up: what do you think tsukishima (haikyuu) and levi (AOT) would be like as boyfriends? uhhh not with each other lmaoo i’m rly bad at this but i love you and your writing!!

Oh wow this is really late I’m so sorry ausgish

But like thank you for the request and for enjoying my shitty writing!!<33

Sigh what has my blog become lol

Anyways hcs of boyfriend tsukki and Levi go-

🌙Tsukishima Kei🌙

- Cold.

- Well not really loll.

- You might think he’s cold like he doesn’t really do PDA or anything like that, he makes fun of you, ignores you if you’re being annoying, yk all that.

- BUT HE REALLY ISN’T COLD AT ALL!!!

- He just doesn’t know how to respond to affection given that he wasn’t given that much in his childhood.

- And he’s shy🥺👉👈.

- In public, making fun of you is a way for him to flirt.

- Oh and also using your head as an armrest.

- He’s the type of boyfriend to hold your hand under the table, or sneak a hand into your pocket for warmth.

- Whenever you’re “annoying” him, he ignores you because shit bro he can’t let people see he’s blushing.

- He gets made fun of by the team.

- “Ooooh never knew Tsukishima was a lover boy-” ~Tanaka

- “To think stingyshima has a girlfriend but not me... ridiculous.” ~Hinata

- So cocky about it lolol.

- “Maybe if you guys were taller and smarter, you’d get girlfriends too.” ~Tsukishima

- Awww he’s so soft though seriously.

- He doesn’t show it in front of people but behind closed doors, he is a TOUCH STARVED TEDDY BEAR.

- He may be a lil bit scrawny and skinny but cuddling him is like cuddling a giant stuffed dinosaur.

- And he loves it.

- For some reason I think he likes to smell your hair??

- Ooh and he ruffles it a lot too.

- Please spoon him.

- He wants affection too.

- Oh and please just let him vent once in a while.

- Tsukishima is a complicated teenager with trust issues and self esteem problems.

- He needs someone to listen to him and understand his mental struggles.

- And also cuddle him afterwards.

- Thinks you look best in his hoodies.

- Sweater paws🥺🥺.

- Gives you music recommendations!!

- Unsurprisingly, he’s into lofi.

- Forehead kisses are the best.

- First off: he doesn’t have to lean down too much, this man is a giant.

- Second off: it’s less idk passionate??? Sexual??? Idk but it’s less sexual in terms of actually kissing but like 100000x sweeter.

- But even if he does kiss you properly it’s just sweet and tender yk?

- Like he won’t eat your face or anything lmao but he’ll just stay there and probably smile into it.

🧹Levi Ackerman🧹

- Also, lowkey cold but not seriously.

- Doesn’t know how to show or respond to affection.

- But seriously can you blame him? His mom died in front of him, he was abandoned by his mentor and then watched him die seconds after realising they were related, both his best friends were ripped apart by titans, his squad was annihilated, etcetc.

- Man he had a hard life fr.

- That kinda shaped him??? Ig it shaped him to be sort of like a human robot, seemingly devoid of emotions.

- BUT!

- Even our lord and saviour Isayama-san himself said that he’s soft boy precious boo boo baby gem amazing perfect fluffy hubby bubba-

- (Basically he’s actually the most emotional and wears his heart on his sleeve I don’t know what the flying fuck that was.)

- So please expect him to be like a patient that’s headed to their therapist at all times.

- Moody, probably grumpy, done with everyone’s shit, will fight you.

- But also sensitive, will start crying if you trigger him accidentally, please speak with care.

- Anyways, he’s honestly a great boyfriend.

- Very protective which is really cute.

- Doesn’t want you to get hurt on expeditions so he’s always by your side, that is not negotiable.

- He’ll give you affection with a straight face in front of people, but not intense affection.

- It’s a bit worse than Tsukishima.

- Literally close to no one knows about your relationship with him.

- He’ll only give you head rubs and sometimes playful punches.

- Nope, won’t even hold your hand.

- Okay behind closed doors though that’s a different story.

- It’s like Levi goes straight into emo mode.

- Suddenly will be in his feels.

- I mean late at night is the only time where no one can bother him so he just drowns in his depression.

- He needs cuddles.

- Put your head on his shouuuuuuuulderrrrrrrr-

- But seriously though do that and he’s a dead man walking.

- TOUCH! STARVED!

- I feel like something he does to comfort himself is braid your hair or just wash it.

- All while venting for hours.

- And please just listen to him.

- Btw he loves kisses but almost NEVER KISSES YOU LIKE SIR-

- His lips are kinda chapped ngl but it’s okay bc he’s putting in the effort to keep it somewhat soft.

- Overall: 11/10 would recommend.

ahhh hope you liked it, sorry it’s months too late tbh<333

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highly-opinionated-ramblings · 4 years

Text

Batshipping masterpost

Sometimes asking yourself the question “what would it take for me to ship these two characters together?” helps you come up with really really good stories that you otherwise might never have thought of!

Very fun writing exercise. Do recommend.

ANYWAY. I like Batman, so I asked myself this question about him, and these were the results!

(Featuring: Catwoman, Riddler, Twoface, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Azrael, Mr. Freeze, Clayface, Superman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Flash, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, and Aquaman)

What would it take for me to ship Batman with that character? A few key ingredients:

If they are/were a villain, a redemption of sorts. A slow process of coming to terms and actively deciding “yeah, that’s not who I am anymore.”

A connection, a distinct moment where they’re able to talk to Batman as more than just an old enemy or a League ally. A spark that generates interest in developing the relationship further.

An establishment of explicit trust. This usually comes in the form of Bruce revealing his identity to the other and trusting them (maybe tentatively at first, but even so) not to give it away.

An introduction to the kids. I am one hundred percent positive that this is, for the vast majority, not a voluntary action on Batman’s part. But if you raise nine kids to be detectives, you can’t expect to keep secrets from them for long! And once they know you’ve been sleeping with that former villain, you’re going to have to justify that to them somehow.

Then the whole cycle starts again as the villain redeems themselves in the eyes of the kids and gains their trust and acceptance too. Good stuff.

Note: my interpretations of these characters are entirely my own and by no means do all of them line up with any sort of canon. I just sort of do whatever.

Also: some of the bullet points below address some of the mental health problems in the villains, so proceed at your own discretion.

Catwoman: I really like the Gotham tv show’s dynamic between Bruce and Selina, which is to say, they were childhood friends with an early attraction to one another, but had a falling out sometime around the very beginnings of Bruce actually becoming Batman. She spends a few years as a professional thief. He sends her to prison a few times. But eventually she settles down and opens up a casino or whatever, where she deals information under the table. Alfred and the kids know her these days as an ally rather than enemy. So it’s just a matter of her realizing that her attraction to Bruce is deeper than originally assumed, and that if she wants to be with him she has to really dedicate herself to that idea, and for him to realize that she’s being serious and that he needs to prioritize spending time with her over obsessing over his work.

Bruce takes his mask off dramatically, saying something along the lines of “it’s me, Selina” and she’s like “yeah I know.” “What?” “You do this thing where you pace back and forth and nod your head up and down when you’re thinking. Never known anyone else who did that but Bruce Wayne.” “...Oh.”

Childhood friends interpretation is also great because Alfred already knows her and likes her. And she has all these embarrassing stories about 14 year old Bruce to share, which means that even the most resistant of the kids warm up to her right away.

Riddler: the first line in his Arkham file is that he has an obsessive need for attention. And Bruce KNOWS that. But it takes years for it to occur to him, incredibly sleep-deprived and staring down one of Ed’s death traps that he really, really doesn’t want to deal with today....what would happen if he just, y’know, gives it to him? The attention that he wants? And the results are instantaneous. It’s like the floodgates are open and Ed just can’t stop talking. It starts out snide and derogatory, the same way he usually talks to Batman, but the longer it goes on the more it deteriorates into something oddly helpless and vulnerable. Bruce has been so used to cocky, swaggering Ed that it never really occurred to him that this was someone suffering, who needed help. So he sits down and does his best to convince Ed that he’s not going to take him in (how many times has he been sent to Arkham? And what good has it done him, really?) and they talk. He leaves out of necessity (bank robbery in progress, says Barbara’s voice in his ear) but he goes back the next day, and again after that. Ed gets attention from Bruce without having to resort to crime to get it. Bruce gets a break from head busting and an outlet for some of the stale energy inside his head. They tell each other riddles and play strategy games and get to know each other, for real this time.

Ed stops worrying so much about proving that he’s smarter than Batman. Instead he channels all that energy into uncovering Bruce’s secret identity. It’s just another one of their games. Bruce has kept that secret for a long time and he’s confident he can keep it up, but Ed’s always alert waiting for him to slip up, to leave a clue

Option 1 for how he finds out: he sets up an elaborate trap, making it seem like he’s in danger and the only way to save him is for Bruce to take his mask off, so he does. Ed is outraged. “REALLY? BRUCE WAYNE? FUCKING REALLY?” he yells, dropping all pretense of being in danger. The robots he made for this setup drop like puppets with cut strings. Bruce gets ready to Fight.

Option 2: Some other villain reveals Bruce’s identity before he gets the chance (Arkhamverse style). Ed is outraged. “HOW DARE YOU LET ANYONE ELSE BUT ME DO THAT” he yells while Bruce tries his best to ignore him and focus on calling the JL to fix the whole situation somehow

Option 3: Bruce just tells him. Ed is outraged. “I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO FIGURE IT OUT YOU IDIOT”

The kids are Not Happy about Bruce dating Gotham’s Most Annoying Super Villain

Twoface: again I gotta go with the whole ‘they were friends when they were younger and Bruce had a raging crush on him’ setup. Cause that adds a whole layer to Bruce’s part of the story, watching Harvey become Twoface and assuming responsibility for locking him up every time he gets out. One day something happens in Gotham- string of murders or something, it’s not important really what it is. Bruce goes after the person responsible and his trail leads him to Harvey. So he busts into the safe house, intending to intimidate anything Harvey knows out of him, and then throw him back in Blackgate. “Ohohoho, noooooo, you got this all wrong,” Harvey says when he figures out what Batman’s getting at. “That motherfucker put a dozen of my men in the ground. This is personal. You want me to tell you what I know, you’re going to take me with you.” And Bruce agrees. Cause he knows Harvey’s got a certain moral code that he can be trusted to stick to, and it’s the most painless way of getting what he wants from him anyway. Working with Harvey is weird, though. He shoots a couple of goons going after Batman and gives him that lopsided smile, says “I’ve got your back,” and suddenly Bruce is like 20 again and Harvey is bringing him a coffee, smiling. During their chase they have a dramatic rooftop showdown with whoever it is they’re chasing. Bruce turns around just in time to see one of the thugs push Twoface over the edge. He gets caught up in the moment and practically screams, “Harvey!” Of course, he’s able to dramatically swoop in and save him, though it’s a pretty close call. When Harvey comes to he sits up and says quietly, “It’s been a long time since anyone’s called my name like that, did we have that kind of relationship?” and Bruce panics and tries to brush it off as his imagination, but Harvey shakes his head and says “once you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it, man. It’s you under there, isn’t it, Bruce?” And it turns out that knowing Bruce’s real identity turned out to be exactly what Harvey needed. Cause he can identify some of the duality he feels about himself in Batman, now. They spend some more time together, talking some of that out, and it doesn’t take long for Bruce’s crush to return en force.

Poison Ivy: He lets her go. He knew she was at that scene, and she knows he saw her, but he lets her go, cause it wasn’t a big deal. No one died, relatively little property damage, and that jerk deserved it anyway. The next day there’s a potted plant sitting on GCPD’s doorstep and they call Batman thinking it might be dangerous, but it’s just a lovely specimen of a rare flower, which he knows is her way of saying thanks. (He doesn’t let the police know that, though. He just puts it in the back of the Batmobile and tells them it’s nothing he can’t handle). He takes it home with him and treats it well. And she knows it, can kind of sense it, distantly. They have a few more run ins over the course of the next few months and they take it easy on each other, having this sort of mutually unspoken agreement. Eventually something happens for her to need to talk to Batman, so she digs her roots in deep and finds that flower...in the garden at Wayne Manor. She leaves a message for Batman and they meet up and talk about whatever she needed. She doesn’t mention the Manor, so he asks about it. She just shrugs and mentions something about Bruce Wayne’s recent efforts in protecting the environment. “Maybe we’re not as different as I thought, after all.” They give each other more little presents from afar. One day she sees him hanging around (where she knows he knows she can see him), and drops by to talk. He offers her a ride home and ends up spending the night.

This one I think he owns up to before the kids can figure it out. Pam’s a good source of information, and if he was desperate he’d call her even with all of them watching. They’d all think he’d been bewitched, of course. It’d take a while to convince them all otherwise.

Harley Quinn: all it takes is for him to get his first glimpse of the real her and decide that Joker victims need to stick together and help other Joker victims. After the breakup and the subsequent recovery, she’s living free (albeit under Constant Surveillance) in Gotham, and he checks in every once in a while, just to make sure she’s doing ok and not reverting to her previous, Joker-driven, rocket-fueled bad habits. One day there’s an incident in her neighborhood- maybe someone was going after her and Bruce was there protecting her, or maybe it wasn’t related to her at all. Regardless, it’s her who finds him after the explosion and takes him home and gives him first aid. He’s groggy and panicky when he first wakes up in a strange place (not a hospital, not the cave) with an IV drip in his arm (he’s not in a hospital, where did that come from!). It gets worse when he realizes that his mask was blown right off his face in the blast. It gets SIGNIFICANTLY WORSE when Harley appears in his field of vision, waving around a tablet pulled up to Bruce Wayne’s wikipedia page, in full psychologist mode, ranting about how he’s been going about dealing with his childhood trauma All Wrong. But they talk, and she promises not to give his secret away. “What would I have to gain from that? You’d stop coming to visit me then!” It takes a while for the two of them to figure out exactly what’s going on between them but once they’re both sure the others’ intentions are good, they develop a good, strong relationship.

Bonus points if, at any point in the above time space, she walks up to him one day and hands him an unmarked usb drive. “What’s on this?” “My daughter.” “What.” “My daughter! Her location and everything about her.” “Is she...Joker’s?” “I dunno. Could have been him or any one of a number of other guys. Mistah J threw some really wild parties. *shrug* The only part that really matters to me is that she’s mine. And if anything ever happens to me, she’ll need someone to look out for her, y’know?” “And that’s me???” “Well, helping people in need is one of your compulsions, after all. Especially kids, or else you wouldn’t have so many of your own.”

I usually imagine Jason as one of the ones kind of sticking up for Batman, citing how crime has all but disappeared since he started sleeping with whatever particular villain and that who are they to police who Bruce shares his bed with anyway (BONUS bonus points if he’s just entering the early stages of coming to terms with his own bisexuality and never realized that Bruce was bi, too), but that wouldn’t be the case with Harley. He’d feel pretty hurt about that, I think. On the other hand: Dick has been around since Harley’s debut on the scene, and has always thought of her as relatively harmless and even respected her to a degree, as a fellow acrobat, so he’s cool with her dating Bruce

Azrael: His JL team goes on hiatus for a little while, so he calls Bruce up like “uhhh, I don’t really have much of anywhere else to go, so can I come back to Gotham for a while?” And Bruce tells him that they’re actually experiencing a pretty calm stretch for a change, but yeah, he can come if he wants. At first he’s excited because he’s never been invited to the actual, og Batcave, but there really IS nothing going on. He meets Alfred, who offers him tea. He meets Steph and Tim, out of masks, lounging on the couch playing Street Fighter. They assure him that if literally anything happens, one of their gajillion alert systems will let them know. He goes off in search of Bruce, finds him sitting at the kitchen table making his way through a veritable mountain of paperwork. Eventually he admits that he doesn’t really know what to do with himself in the downtime. “I usually try to use time like this to do things for Bruce Wayne, instead of for Batman,” Bruce explains. “You should do something for Michael Lane, while you have the chance.” “But...but...but I’ve been Azrael full-time for years now...” “Alright, well, what did you like to do before you were Azrael?” “UHH...” Before he can short-circuit too much trying to come up with an actual answer to that question, Bruce puts aside his paperwork and takes his arm. They get in the car and Bruce takes him to like a hobby shop or something. They buy model kits and a cookbook and some yarn (”one of the kids can teach you”), and he promises that one of these days they’ll clear some space on the lawn to play football. Michael hasn’t experienced this level of anyone caring for his well-being probably ever? and all he can do is stammer something about “is there anything I can do for Bruce Wayne in return?” “You can keep me company while I file all my paperwork, I guess.” So he sits at the table across from Bruce and builds his little ATAT model kit feeling happier than he has in a long time. Bruce can tell that a little more attention would do him good, so they spend some more time hanging out which leads to having some deep conversations and building up feelings for each other, it’s all very cute

Right at the beginning of Michael developing his crush on Bruce he realizes that something’s different, but doesn’t quite realize what it is, and his mind jumps to the worst case scenario right away. He locks himself in his room, calls Bruce at work, panicking, and says he thinks his St. Dumas brainwashed obsession with Bruce might be coming back. Bruce tells him to calm down, they’ll run some tests. All the tests come back negative, but Michael is visibly shaken, so Bruce offers for him to hang around Gotham a little longer so they can monitor him, which is what leads to his extended stay in Gotham

Mr. Freeze: One day something changes. One day the realization finally, finally clicks into place. There’s a huge floating JL base in the sky and aliens living on Earth and people coming back from the dead and healing from miraculous injuries and plagues all the time. If it was going to happen to him, it would have happened by now. It’s over. Nora’s not coming back. That day he laces up his boots and loads his gun and walks over to the little diner on the corner and wrecks it. Batman gets the call, and obviously he knows that something’s different, this isn’t Vic’s MO, but he goes anyway, of course. Vic blasts away at him with his freeze gun, wildly, recklessly, screaming and ranting the whole time. Bruce dodges out of view, and Vic transfers his aggressions to the nearest object in sight: a table. He blasts that thing in half, and then in half again, and keeps going until it’s nothing but splinters and he’s just standing there, gasping for breath. “Victor,” says Bruce from behind him, “tell me what’s wrong.” “Nora’s dead,” Vic mumbles under his breath. Bruce comes around to face him and Vic is looking at him with THE SADDEST puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. (I know what you’re thinking right now. “Mr. Freeze can’t do puppy dog eyes.” You’re WRONG, I’m telling you) “That’s the first time I’ve ever said that out loud, I think... I d-don’t...I don’t know what to do…” and Bruce is like, darn, I can’t take this fool to jail. So he brings him back to his chilly lair instead and sits him down and talks him through it a little. Leaves him with a phone number to call if it gets real bad again, but makes the first call to check up on him later anyway. This one is a sloooow burn, it takes Vic MONTHS to get over Nora, couple weeks to realize he MIGHT? be developing feelings for Bruce, couple more weeks to wrestle with the guilt of that. Learning Bruce’s identity is the thing that really brings all of it to a head. Maybe there’s an attempt on Bruce Wayne’s life and later that day Batman shows up with the same pattern of lacerations on his cheek, or broken leg, or whatever. Vic’s not an idiot. He can put two and two together. When Bruce finally takes off the helmet in front of him, it’s a huge relief. To be able to say “I know what it’s like to lose people” and for Vic to know he’s not just talking about heroing. They get closer and closer from there. Their relationship is a weird one, with a lot of compromises to make, but they do the best they can.

The kids don’t particularly mind Bruce going out with Vic. He’s not so much a villain as he is just a guy who’s been dealt a bad hand in life and done the best he could with it. But having around makes the already-cool cave soooo much colder, which isn’t so fun.

Clayface: There hasn’t been an incident with Clayface in years. He’s older, little calmer, little more mature (I like the New 52 plotline of him joining Kate’s crime busting team, but this little scenario works even without that part thrown in). Still, when Bruce hears he’s back in town, he figures he should probably pay him a visit anyway. Just in case he’s planning something. But he goes to the address he was given, some apartment building in Kingston, opens the door, and finds Basil. Not Clayface, Basil Karlo, sitting in a chair by the window reading a paper. “Haven’t seen that face on you in a while,” he says, still unsure if it’s a trick or not. “Oh,” Basil shrugs, unsure if he should be worried about being tossed in jail again or not. “Well, it’s my face. The one I’m most familiar with, takes the least amount of concentration to keep up with. I did make some changes, though, see? Few gray hairs, few lines on my face. Do I look older?” “Yes. It’s a good look.” He keeps checking in with him, cause you can never be too careful, and then because he actually starts to enjoy Basil’s company. Their relationship is one of the more light-hearted ones on this list. They get wine drunk and make out on the roof of the apartment building, very giggly.

“If I learned anything at Arkham, it’s that there are some things that you know are wrong with you, but there are also things that are wrong with you that you aren’t even aware of, and that you couldn’t identify or fix even if you tried.” “One of the psychologists told you that?” “No. I shared a cell with Tetch for a few weeks. That dude is so much more messed up than you realize.”

Superman: Clark calls him up saying something about a mystery in Metropolis that has everyone stumped, and maybe the World’s Greatest Detective wouldn’t mind helping him out? So Bruce drops by to lend him a hand. The ‘mystery’ turns out to be a group of unfamiliar aliens who’re out to get Superman (I don’t care why. Maybe they’re holding some kind of grudge, maybe they’re bounty hunters, maybe they want to sell him off into space-gladiator slavery, whatever). These antagonistic aliens have been very careful in their preparations- they’ve done all the math, and come up with special weapons specifically designed to hit Superman hard enough to knock him out. But they didn’t plan on Batman being there with him, which throws them off just enough that Superman is able to chase them off successfully. In the midst of that fight, though, Bruce takes a hit. A hit calculated for Superman. It breaks several of his ribs and punctures a lung. Clark panics, scoops him up and flies him to the nearest hospital at record speeds. They’re able to stabilize him at Metropolis, and then they send him back to the Watchtower for further treatment. When he wakes up he’s pretty disoriented and confused, but Clark (who had been listening for a change in his breathing and heartbeat from a couple rooms away) comes rushing in, ushering him back to bed and promising to explain everything. Bruce is woozy and wonky enough from whatever drugs they gave him that he lays back down and lets Clark hold his hand protectively without argument. He listens to Clark’s explanation, mumbles something about calling Alfred, and promptly falls back asleep. Clark feels so guilty about his injury that he won’t leave his side for weeks, even following him back to Gotham once he’s well enough to leave the Watchtower.

“God, when will they finally just kiss already,” Jason says, taking cover with the rest of the family in the cave. “I know, right,” says Steph while Tim, Cass, and Duke (and Alfred) all nod in agreement. “SHUT UP,” yells Damian, having a hard time adapting to the idea of his dad and his best friend’s dad getting together

Any Superbat is good Superbat but I enjoy it best in the context of ‘they’re old enough by now to be embarrassed about how angsty and competitive they were when they first met, and they both have huge extended families, and the rest of the JL has been watching them dance around each other for YEARS, JUST KISS ALREADY DAMMIT’

Wonder Woman: I don’t usually imagine Bruce as a flustered kind of guy, but Wonder Woman is everything he wants to be when he grows up and he can’t help it. She’s so effortlessly cool, calm, and collected. And she’s a natural charmer, the public loves her. She always manages to come at things with a fresh perspective that has helped unstick his too-logical train of thought numerous times. She paid him a compliment once and he sat in the batmobile in the parking lot thinking about it for like twenty minutes. One day they get assigned to a League PR thing together that turns into an assassination attempt (surprising no one), but everything turns out ok. Minor damage to the surrounding buildings, a few people injured in the mass chaos, that’s all. She goes looking for him after returning from talking to the local cops, and finds him with a toddler girl on his hip, holding hands with her six yo sister, helping them look for their parents. And she just has to stop and marvel for a minute at how soft his voice is??? How the toddler isn’t even crying??? He bends down to hug the little girl bye after returning her to her fam and Diana almost has a heart attack. “I see that the gods have blessed you with an affinity for children of all ages,” she says. By the time he straightens back up he’s Batman again. “What do you mean by that?” “I can never get kids to warm up to me like that in situations like these...I always thought it was because I was just too big and imposing. How did you do it?” “Oh. Well. You know. *gestures vaguely* You just gotta give them what they want.” “And what is that?” “Security. A promise of safety from an adult that they can trust.” She doesn’t quite get it but she watches him, and talks to his sidekicks sometimes. It amazes her how much kindness and love are hidden under that mask of his. When he smiles from the heart he could melt glaciers. So she starts to press, just a little, just to see how he’ll respond. And once she figures out exactly how flustered he can get, too, it’s all downhill from there.

Martian Manhunter: This one is literally one of the sweetest, most pure relationship dynamics I think I’ve ever written, which really caught me by surprise! The way I think of it is like this: When they first meet, Bruce is really, really uncomfortable with the idea of having J’onn in his head, so J’onn tries to keep telecommunication with him to a minimum. So when Bruce gets his attention during like a meeting or something and subtly lets him know he needs to talk, J’onn knows it must be important. So he opens up a private channel and helps Bruce deal with whatever it is (I don’t know exactly what that would be, only that it’d be some kind of sensitive topic best kept between the two of them). And over the course of that, all those one-on-one mind convos, Bruce starts to get used to talking like that with J’onn. In return, while they’re working together, he helps J’onn get used to human physical contact. It starts with small things- handshakes, little pats on the shoulder- until J’onn is comfortable returning them. One day J’onn has a bad day and it’s Bruce that comes to find him, to comfort him. He doesn’t really say anything, just puts his arms around J’onn and holds him close. Most humans- and hell, even most Martians- wouldn’t have done that for him. What else was J’onn supposed to do but fall in love with him?

I really liked the scene in JL8 where J’onn was trying to, like, share a memory with Bruce or something, and instead he ended up unintentionally stumbling into some of Bruce’s trauma memories, which freaked both of them out pretty badly. I think that little scene would fit quite nicely into this scenario. Bonus, if it happens in the really early days of the League, it doubles as the moment when J’onn first learns Bruce’s secret identity.

Flash: It’s been a longtime headcanon of mine that Barry is very active in the Central City community, not just as Flash, but as himself, too. Namely, he spends a good deal of his free time volunteering with the local homeless shelter slash food bank. I mean, come on, just by the very nature of his powers, is it any surprise that he has a vested interest in ending hunger in his community? One day he stops Bruce in the hall in the Watchtower, and clumsily explains that he needs to ask a favor. The shelter has been looking to expand their operations for some time, but right at the last second one of their backers pulled out. They’re short 7k for the payment on the property they needed to make tomorrow, and Barry didn’t know where else to turn to get that much money that quickly. He promises to pay him back, somehow, eventually. Bruce cuts him a check right there for 10k, and tells him to consider it a gift. Later he even publicly endorses the program on social media, saying he thinks Gotham should implement something similar. Barry invites him down to see the building he paid for, so Bruce rolls up his sleeves and spends the day volunteering with him. It’s a chance for both of them to see a side of the other that they’ve never seen before. Bruce watches Barry shine like a ray of sunshine, bringing light and laughter to a room full of people at their very lowest. Barry watches Bruce inspire trust and confidence in complete strangers, like magic. Not to mention, that smile- Barry tries not to use his powers out in the open if he can avoid it, but he discreetly flashes over to stop a tray or something from falling, and of course it doesn’t escape Bruce’s notice. He grins at Barry from across the room and Barry’s heart fully stops for a second.

I like to think of Bruce as a little older than Barry. Just a little, just a few years. Just enough that Barry always feels like an inexperienced, incompetent baby in the face of The Batman

This one throws the kids for such a loop once they find out about it. “THIS is what you’re attracted to, Bruce? THIS???”

Green Lantern: what I know about Hal is that he’s sassy. And what I know about Bruce is that if anyone he doesn’t have the ability to tell to go to their room is sassy with him, he gets snippy. So he and Hal butt heads a lot. One day Hal is venting to Superman in like, an elevator or something about how Bruce just Doesn’t Get It, Clark, He Doesn’t Understand Me, and Clark says, “well, Hal, can you honestly say that you understand him, either?” And suggests that maybe he should spend some more time actually getting to know Bruce before passing judgement. Hal takes that to mean ‘maybe I should go to Gotham and spy on Batman for a day’. When he spots him doing his best to hide inconspicuously on a nearby rooftop, Bruce rolls his eyes and ignores him. Dick spots him too, though, and invites him to the cave in hopes that maybe they’ll be able to settle whatever their argument was about (Jason, Tim, and Steph break out the popcorn and get themselves front row seats for the Drama). But in the end, an up-close perspective was exactly what Hal needed to realize that there was more to Batman than had been meeting his eye. He watches Bruce juggle ten different comm feeds while giving a press conference AND directing his kids’ efforts in the field at the same time, and he earns a new respect for Bruce. He gets where he’s coming from now, and why he’s always so cautious all the time. The guy has a lot to lose. So he mans up and apologizes. Bruce accepts the apology graciously, says he realizes that they’re fundamentally different people but that he values Hal as a comrade and respects his prowess with the ring, and Hal is like, ‘ah. We Are Friends Now.’ He spends more of his time on Earth with Bruce, and along the way he trips and falls headlong into a debilitating crush on him. Like, a visibly obvious crush. Bruce finds it adorable.

Green Arrow: Bruce and Ollie get invited to the same billionaire shindig one day and neither of them can think of a good enough reason to not go. Ollie’s recovering from a bad ankle sprain, and Bruce hasn’t slept in days, so instead of socializing with anyone else there they just sit in the corner and hang out with each other. Midway through the event Bruce closes his eyes and does this forceful little sigh through his nose. Ollie knows him well enough by now to know that small outward signs indicate big amounts of internal emotions with Bruce, and this is about as frustrated as he’s ever seen him out of mask. Normally his act is impenetrable. “What,” he asks, imagination running full speed ahead thinking about what might have happened, “what’s wrong?” “Firefly just broke out of prison,” Bruce growls, reaching for a refill of whatever he’s drinking. “Wh- Wait, who?” “Pyromaniac, serial arsonist in Gotham.” “How exactly did you learn this?” (read: do you have some kind of spider sense I don’t know about?) Bruce just gestures to his microscopic earpiece. Ollie offers, probably against his better judgement, to take a trip to Gotham and help catch Firefly. Bruce, barely able to see straight at that point (bad combination of sleeplessness and alcohol), accepts. So Ollie gets the full treatment, a trip to the cave and tea from Alfred and a haranguing from the kids and a trip to Blackgate with Firefly, even. In return he offers to have Bruce over in Star City sometime. Ollie is usually a little on edge around Bruce, but then he starts to see the real him and finds out that he does, in fact have a sense of humor. They have goofy adventures together and it’s all very cute

Aquaman: Arthur is hotheaded and when he gets in a Mood, the sight of Bruce and his stupid unmovable face just makes him angrier. But once during a mission, when Arthur is busy working himself into a panic, not knowing what to do, it’s Bruce that snaps him out of it. Grabs him by the shoulders and demands that he get a hold of himself. And it’s enough of a shock that it actually works- Bruce tells Arthur the plan, and Arthur does it without argument. No one is more surprised when it works than he is. He is SHOOK. Eventually he swallows his pride enough to go up to Batman and admit, “I think I’m still too emotionally invested in this, can you help me?” Bruce agrees, of course. He does his best to explain how he always keeps his emotions in check, especially when lives are on the line. It occurs to Arthur to wonder what kind of toll that takes on a person. He decides that Bruce could probably use a little vacation of sorts, and invites him to spend a day with him in Atlantis. A day in the life of a king, if you will. Bruce rolls his eyes and agrees, just to play along, but he ends up really enjoying it. Yes, there are a dozen-odd irons in the fire waiting for him when he gets home, but this time he finds that he actually has the energy to deal with them for once. Which is a good enough excuse to go back and do it again, and spend more time with Arthur in the process.

Dami is usually super resistant to Bruce dating anyone, but he would be ok with Arthur, I think. Like, “you bagged a king? Ok, respect”

Extra notes:

I feel like a lot of my thoughts about Clayface and Martian Manhunter specifically could also apply to Killer Croc, too, in a way. I mean, he’s not EVIL. He’s just never really been treated like a person, and so he embraced his image as Killer Croc instead of continuing to face that rejection. But if anyone can look past his exterior and see the needs of the man within, Bruce could. Feels a little weird to think about but maybe there’s something there.

Polyshipping is GREAT may I interest you in some ot3s??? SuperWonderBat is one of the more obvious ones, and I love it (cause Diana gets to play with TWO flustered boys) but BatLanternFlash is also top tier. And then there’s the villains! RiddleBatCat is one of my favorites! Also TwoRiddleBat and BruHarlIvy. The possibilities are endless!

I considered adding Lex and Slade to this post, but in the end I left them off. Cause it’s hard for me to see those as anything but weird, inherently unhealthy relationships. They’d make great black ships though : o

When talking about Bruce dating someone else from the JL, there’s DOUBLE the kids to embarrass. Can you imagine you’re like, Roy Harper or something, somebody’s sidekick, and you walk in and find BATMAN in bed with your mentor???? WILD

This post really got away from me, haha. Thanks for reading! Hit me up if you ever need someone to talk about Batshipping with (especially rarepairs, I got you fam)!

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psychosistr · 3 years

Text

Green-Eyed Monsters- Chapter 1

Summary: Domino and Steelbeak’s relationship has been going well so far, but will a high-class heist involving some lovely ladies drive a wedge between the deadly duo?

Notes: I rise from the grave after months of fatigue and inability to write to bring you more from my “Falling Like SteelDominos” series. First time in a while doing a longer story for the series, so I hope you all enjoy it :3 As usual, Domino belongs to the amazing @thefriendlyfour , but there will also be OC’s from myself and @starlightmoth making an appearance soon, so look forward to that ;3

*knock**knock**knock*

Black feathered knuckles rapped against the door to a certain metal-mouthed fowl’s apartment. While the owner of said knuckles had been given a key to the apartment a couple months ago, Dominic still preferred to knock before barging in.

Within less than a minute, the loon standing at the door was greeted by quite the sight: Steelbeak- chief officer of FOWL, as well as Dominic’s partner- in his full six and half foot tall glory, clad in nothing but a pair of black runner’s shorts and holding a water bottle in one hand.

“Mornin’, Dom.” The chief officer greeted, sounding as calm and casual as ever. “Not runnin’ late, am I?”

“Not at all.” Dominic reassured his partner, sneaking a few glances at the taller bird’s physique when he glanced over his shoulder to confirm the time. “I thought I’d drop by and help with breakfast. Hopefully I didn’t interrupt anything..”

Steelbeak shrugged and stepped aside to let his partner in, closing the door behind him. “Food’s already in the oven, I was just finishin’ up a set.”

Ah, so that explained the lighter fowl’s current state.. “Well, seeing as I’m already here, mind if I keep you company while you finish?”

Another calm shrug. “Suit yourself, all I’ve got left are the free-weights.” The duo made their way through Steelbeak’s home side by side, past his living room and kitchen, and entered the room to the right of the chief officer’s bedroom.

Dominic knew the room to the left of the master bedroom was a guest room that Steelbeak claimed was for close friends (though he gave no names for said friends) who needed a place to stay while in town for work. The one to the right was a spare that had been converted into a home-gym, complete with a treadmill, weight stand, barbell set, rowing machine, and a few other pieces of workout equipment the loon had yet to fully familiarize himself with but were all quite impressive to see worked so effectively into such a limited space. Dominic had a similarly sized spare room in his own apartment, but had opted for turning it into a small private study/library with a few comfortable chairs and ambient lighting.

As Steelbeak picked up a pair of dumb-bells (both sides of each being larger than his fists with shockingly high numbers written on them), set his water bottle down behind his soon-to-be-seat, and sat down on the edge of his barbell set’s bench as he began to do some concentration curls- alternating between arms every few curls- Dominic made himself comfortable on the seat of a resistance-based machine and enjoyed the view. “Do you do this before breakfast every morning?”

“Nah.” The well-built rooster huffed between curls. “Try t’ alternate an’ do it every other day- ‘least three days a week, if I get the chance…but, yeah, I usually try gettin’ it done before breakfast.”

“Every other day, hm? I’ll keep that in mind.” Dominic would have to start coming over before breakfast more often…

Stopping mid-rep, dark grey eyes blinked in surprise and looked up from their previous downward position to stare in shock at the other man’s appreciative red-eyed gaze and the borderline lascivious smirk on his long, dark beak. “Wait a minute…are..are you checkin’ me out??”

One dark brow quirked upward, but the loon’s expression remained otherwise the same. “We’ve been dating for more than half a year- I believe I’m fully within my rights to ‘check you out’.”

Ah, there was the dusting of red under those lighter cheek feathers that never failed to please the shorter fowl. “Thought ya weren’t interested in that sorta thing…”

“I never said that.” Pushing himself back to his feet, Dominic gave a brief roll of his eyes before making his way closer to the still-seated rooster. “Besides, I’m ace, not blind- I can appreciate the beauty of a Greek statue without wanting to sleep with it.”

A smirk slipped easily onto the metal-mouthed fowl’s namesake as he looked up at the approaching loon. “Ya tryin’ t’ say this body’s a work of art?”

A low chuckle rumbled in the aquatic avian’s chest once he was close enough to tip the other’s beak upwards with one finger. “Hmh..well..the phrase ‘well-sculpted’ certainly comes to mind.”

“Well, I….I..y…” Steelbeak’s efforts to flirt back were severely hampered by the black-feathered fingertip sliding back and forth along his beak. He put up a token resistance, but soon enough gave in and leaned into the touch with half-lidded eyes and a blissful smile on his face as he always did.

Within seconds, the now-familiar trilling started and Dominic couldn’t help smiling at how adorable it was to see his partner lose himself so completely every time he gave the larger bird the smallest of touches. Even after so many months had passed since their first date, he could still turn the larger man into putty in his hands within seconds.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Dominic took the chance to fully look over his partner’s body now that he had a better vantage point (making sure his feet were clear of the dumbbells, just in case the other’s grip became too relaxed).

It was a rare sight indeed, getting to see the rooster’s buff physique on full-display. Steelbeak wasn’t shy by ANY means- he’d gladly brag about his looks, his strength, and any other aspect of his vanity given the chance- but it wasn’t often that he went around so exposed. Dominic had seen him in everything from suits (both in-tact and semi-destroyed depending on their work day), to tee shirts, and even sleeveless tops. This, however, was the loon’s first time seeing his partner completely topless and, he had to admit, it was a shame he didn’t get to take in the sight more often.

Steelbeak’s vanity was well deserved, it seemed: The man was attractive.

Dominic’s earlier comment of the lighter fowl being “well-sculpted” was almost an understatement- he’d clearly spent many years training and conditioning his body, and the well-defined muscle mass he’d acquired was the well-deserved result. Add to that his handsome face, that extremely dangerous yet enticingly unique prosthesis, and the confident smirk he wore most of the time, and it was easy to see how he’d been able to keep so many “girlfriends” for so long with so little effort.

The loon’s mood soured slightly at the thought of the so-called “ladies’ man” and his plethora of female companions. How many of them had gotten to see his partner like this? Had any of them ever been invited over for a meal? What kind of gifts had he given them? Were there any of them that he actually lov-

A light cooing sound followed by a quiet trill and a nudging at his palm brought the aquatic avian’s attention back down to the still pleasantly-dazed smiling face of the metal-mouthed fowl in front of him. It seemed his internal musings had distracted him from the oh-so-important task of moving his fingers over the other man’s deadly prosthesis and he’d started nudging the black feathered palm in front of him in search of more.

A soft smile found its way to the darker bird’s long beak. “Sorry, am I not giving you enough attention?” The question was rhetorical and the quiet laugh that accompanied it was proof- Steelbeak never answered him verbally once he reached this state. The content trills and quiet cooing would have to suffice for an answer as Dominic resumed stroking and petting the rooster’s gleaming beak once more.

Steelbeak’s own blissful smile grew as the dark fingers on his beak moved back and forth over the metallic surface. Dark grey eyes closed as he all but melted into the smaller fowl’s touch, looking completely open and unguarded as he happily accepted more of his partner’s touch.

That expression was all the loon needed to dismiss his previous train of thought. Steelbeak had to feel superior to everyone else around him constantly. He had to feel like he was smarter, sharper, and stronger than anyone he interacted with. He had to be cool, tough, and confident at all times. He had to keep everyone else at arm’s length until he was ready to reel them in and toss them aside. He would never let anyone see him look so soft and unguarded- it would ruin the rest of the cool-tough-guy image he’d worked so hard to create.

Anyone that is, except for Dominic, it seemed.

He seemed to be an exception for many of the arrogant rooster’s previous mindsets and practices: While Steelbeak hated being told what to do by anyone outside of High Command (and even then it seemed he only listened out of fear), he’d listen to his partner and do what he said if the shorter bird had a plan. While Steelbeak would keep his “girlfriends” strung along for months without contact, he’d always look forward to spending more time with his partner whenever the loon gave him the chance. While Steelbeak would often toss his dates aside on a whim (sometimes literally- the two had had quite the interesting conversation when Dominic stumbled on that hidden disposal chute in the chief officer’s living room), he seemed genuinely invested in making sure his partner felt valued through the little acts of consideration and gifts he’d leave for the loon to find at his convenience.

Yes, Dominic thought, he was the only one who got to be close enough to FOWL’s cocky chief officer to see such a perfectly relaxed and uncharacteristically genuine expression on the larger man’s normally smug face.

And the only one who gets to see him so casually underdressed anymore, a slightly cocky voice in the back of his head reminded him.

That thought certainly brought a grin to his long beak as he unabashedly resumed his earlier inspection of his partner’s body. As red eyes wandered over the vast expanse of hard muscles and soft off-white feathers, however, something else red- other than the rooster’s proudly styled comb- caught his attention. “Hm..?” Releasing the metal beak from his barely-held grasp, Dominic walked around the bench to get a better look at the rooster’s back. “I didn’t know you were painted..”

Getting “painted” was essentially the closest thing most birds could get to a tattoo. Since their plumage tended to cover up any marks on their skin, shops that catered to avian clientele used special airbrushes full of dye and affixed different sized nozzles onto them. The results were colorful and detailed “paintings” that, if done by the right artist, looked just as good as what many other animals could have done by a needle. The only downside to the process was that the dye was done on the bird’s feathers rather than their skin, so once the feathers fell out and new ones grew in, the “painting” would be gone. Still, to lose the whole image would usually take at least a year- give or take, depending on the rate at which the individual shed their feathers (or if there were any incidents that tore out a large patch all at once).

“Huh..?” Gray eyes blinked themselves open as Steelbeak’s mind tried to comprehend what had just been said to him. “Oh..yeah…usually get it done on my back- easier t’ hide, y’know? That one’s kinda old, though, been thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ a new one soon.”

Dominic could certainly see what his partner meant when he said the paint was old, but the image was still quite lovely- it was a rose with petals in varying shades of red and pink done in a gradient with the darkest petals on the inside and the lightest ones in the center, all set atop a blood red stem with two twisting red vines woven around the stem. The flower had several of Steelbeak’s own off-white feathers mixed in with the various darker shades of red by this point, distorting the uniformity of the image.

“Why a rose?” The design seemed far too specific to just be a spur-of-the-moment decision.

“Went out drinkin’ with an old pal for my birthday a couple years back an’ we decided t’ get painted t’ celebrate.” Dark gray eyes peered back over Steelbeak’s shoulder to look at the loon as he talked, apparently trying to gage his reaction to the brightly colored ink. “We thought it’d be funny if we got t’ pick each other’s ink…had t’ draw the line at words an’ tramp-stamps, otherwise I could’ve gotten stuck with WAY worse.”

A light quirking of the corner of the shorter fowl’s long, dark beak was accompanied by a teasing look in his amused red eyes. “What a shame, I think a tramp stamp would suit you perfectly- something gaudy in gold and silver with one of your cheesy pickup lines written in some overly-curly cursive.”

And there was that loud, nasally, very-particular laugh that Dominic had grown to relish over the past months. “Hey, I may like havin’ a good time, but I ain’t no tramp!” Once Steelbeak’s laughter had subsided to a more manageable series of quiet snickers, he winked back at his partner with a playful grin. “An’ my pickup lines ain’t cheesy- they’re grade-A babe-wooin’ material.”

Dominic returned the grin in kind and picked up the nearly forgotten bottle of water on the bench nearby. “If that’s your A-game, then women must be easier to woo than I imagined.”

Despite pretending to look shocked and offended by the darker bird’s criticism, Steelbeak still took the bottle of water when it was offered to him. “Geez, ya really know how t’ hit a man where it hurts, don’t ya, wise guy?”

“Maybe if your ego wasn’t so large, it would be a much harder target to hit.” Taking a seat beside his partner on the now empty portion of the bench, Dominic took the liberty of leaning his head against one broad, uncovered shoulder. He enjoyed times like these- little moments where the two of them could flirt and tease each other in equal measure and just relax in one another’s company.

And, if the content sigh he felt more than heard was any indication, Steelbeak enjoyed them just as much. “Aw, c’mon, Dee- we both know that if I was anythin’ less than what I am, ya wouldn’t be interested.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” There was a tinge of amusement to the loon’s words, but no sarcasm this time- he was a bit too content for it at the moment, he’d save it for later.

Unfortunately, nothing good could last forever, and the pair groaned when they heard a very familiar alert down the hall.

“Think if we ignore it, they’ll leave us alone?” Steelbeak muttered under his breath; the smaller fowl didn’t need to see his gleaming beak to know there was a dissatisfied scowl on it.

“Only long enough to send an eggman up to fetch us.” Dominic sighed and, with no small amount of reluctance, got back up to his feet.

Steelbeak followed his partner’s lead and stretched out his legs before rising up on them and depositing the weights in his hands back on their designated spot on the stand full of dumbbells. “Much fun as it’d be t’ give those guys a reminder not t’ call whenever they feel like it, I don’t think I want High Command seein’ me one step away from my birthday suit. Mind takin’ this one so I can get changed?”

While that was a scene that Dominic would personally love to see play out sometime, he gave his partner a quick nod and made his way back towards the living room. “Fine, but next time you’re answering it- whether you’re properly dressed or not.”

As he entered the room, the aquatic avian wasn’t the least bit surprised to find the screen in Steelbeak’s living room had already turned itself on and had the less than pleased silhouettes (how did a silhouette obscure physical features so well while still allowing such clear scowls to show?) of High Command staring at him. “Agent Domino.” The usual member of the trio spared him nothing more for a greeting. “Where exactly is Chief Officer Steelbeak?”

“On his way, sirs.” Dominic stopped in front of the screen, looking at his leaders with a calm but respectful expression to show he was paying attention. “I take it you have an assignment for us?”

“Yes.” The silhouetted leaders’ eyes narrowed in warning. “And failure will NOT be tolerated.”

Next Chapter->

End Notes: A short, sweet, domestic bit of fluff and bonding to start off with :3

#darkwing duck #dwd #steelbeak #Dominic Domino #steeldomino #darkwing duck oc #dwd oc #not my oc #green-eyed monsters

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ficsandcatsandficsandcats · 4 years

Note

request: jaskier x reader enemies to lovers in which the reader is not a jealous asshole lmao

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 3,273Rating: TTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @kemmastan @mycat-is-mylove @amirahiddleston a/n: Hey! I am a sucker for an academic rivalry and that’s the way I approached this. It’s really long but I hope you enjoy!

You took a deep breath before entering the classroom, plastering on a serene, professional smile. There were more students present than usual which only rankled further, knowing they had come here to see him instead of your usual classes. He wasn’t there yet (typical) but you were grateful. Walking in to see so-called Professor Pankratz beating you to your own class would have been more than you could bear. Then again, he was never on time for class when you were students so luck had been on your side.

“Good morning class, so nice to see that so many of you have recovered for your many ailments and just in time for a presentation for our guest lecturer,” you said. The students chuckled sheepishly and you fixed them with an accusatory look that melted into a smile and a head shake. They were just kids. It hadn’t been terribly long ago you were in their shoes and there were many times you wished you could have jut run off and avoided your responsibilities like others you’d known. Right on cue, the door opened and in strode Julian Pankratz or – as he was known now – Jaskier.

He looked practically the same as he had back then. Chestnut hair shorter and roguishly swept to the side but the same hue, golden highlights catching in the sun that streamed through the large windows. Smile quirked into the exact same cocky little grin, sky blue eyes sparkling with amusement, always on the lookout for a good time. His clothing choices had become more ornate but the same good quality they’d always been, him and all the other nobility thinking nothing of the clothes they wore or the fact that a single doublet would pay for a semester of classes. As he caught your eye a familiar look of smugness came over his features and you bristled. You’d always been academic rivals. You didn’t usually care about someone being smarter than you, most were anyway, but someone who swanned into Oxenfurt Academy, resting on his family’s laurels and roving around missing classes yet still somehow managing to give you a run for your title as Valedictorian was another matter. On the rare occasions he did deign to show up to class he’d usually be half-hungover, lacking all supplies, and yet teacher’s stopped calling on him to make an example because he’d always know the answer. Good answers, too. So no, you didn’t hate Julian because he was smart or handsome or well-liked or even because he was your fiercest competition in school. You hated him because he was all of these things and didn’t work for any of it and didn’t seem to appreciate its value. This position you held as a professor at a university that had been an impossible sounding dream for a child who grew up in poverty meant everything to you. But for Julian, it was just another honor bestowed on him. Hell, he was invited to teach today.

“Ah, Julian, right off time,” you said dryly.

“Professor Pankratz I think it is, Y/N,” he replied. You bristled and bit back a litany of oaths.

“As I was telling the students, Julian, you are here today to provide a guest lecture and if anyone has questions-” two dozen arms shot up in the sky eagerly, “They will wait under after the lesson.”

The arms retracted glumly but the students lit up as you stepped aside, giving the bard a space at the podium.

“Thank you, Y/N. You know, your professor and I go way back. We were school chums just like you. She’s always been incredibly smart. I mean, the record may show that she never could quite top me but she still gave me a good run,” he winked at you as he said the words and then gave you a wicked smile, like a child who knew they were being bad in public and didn’t care what would happen when they got home. You kept the same serene smile on your face like a mask and you spent the next hour and a half of his talk imagining the different ways you would use the historical tools of torture display in the history wing to wipe that smug smile off of his face.

—–

After the lecture (which was exceptional, damn it) Julian suggested the question and answer portion be done outside because it was “such a lovely day” and you “probably wanted to review your notes over his lecture to include in the class’s curricula” and they poured out of your class leaving you in blessed silence. You had to admit you appreciated the extra time to prepare for tomorrow’s class. You finished grading and even had time to clean the chalkboard thoroughly. You were gazing at it in admiration of a job well done when a voice popped up by the open door.

“Admit it, that was brilliant.”

Suddenly your good mood vanished. You cut Jaskier a sharp glance from the corner of your eye.

“The students aren’t here anymore Julian you don’t need to stick around,” you said coolly.

“Oh I know,” he replied, moving into the room further, “I thought I’d ask an old friend for a drink. Catch up properly since I’m in town.”

You scoffed and shook your head, turning to face him.

“We’re not friends, Julian. We never were and I don’t see why we would be now,” you said bluntly. He smiled at your words, not an unpleasant or false one, a genuine, nostalgic smile.

“Gods I’ve missed the way you never put up with my shit,” he said. You blinked at him in surprise.

“What?”

“Everyone else was impressed by the Pankratz name and my other, admittedly many, charms but you always saw through it. I think that’s why I tried to impress you so much. Hell, maybe it’s why I’m still trying,” he said.

“I thought you hated me, you were always a prick. And don’t try that stupid ‘boys torment girls they like’ bullshit with me because that’s bollocks at best and dangerous at worst,” you argued. He smirked.

“Oh no, you were a bitch. You kind of still are. But I’ve grown to develop an affection for bitches.”

“Get fucked, Pankratz.”

“Ooh not as eloquent as you were back in the day. What was it you called me that one time? As stupid as an ox and half as useful?” he quoted. You smiled in appreciation of your younger self’s burn.

“Come have a drink with me,” he offered again. Despite yourself, you were curious about what Julian had been up to. Sure you heard the rumors and the songs and knew he was a celebrity. But you also knew that the stories you heard about people rarely matched the truth and perhaps with enough ale and the right questions you’d get somewhere close to that.

“You’re paying,” you said, taking up your purse and getting out the key to lock the classroom.

“But of course,” Jaskier said in faux surprise, “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t treat the lady to drinks?”

For the sake of peace, you bit your tongue.

—–

“Alright,” Jaskier said once you’d both ordered your drinks, “Let’s get this out of the way. Ask me about Geralt.”

“The witcher?” you asked. Jaskier nodded, a weary nod that suggested he’d had this talk many, many times before. “I don’t really have any questions.”

Jaskier eyed you suspiciously, disbelief plain on his face but you weren’t kidding. You knew about witchers, had read many different accounts from believe who head varying levels of respect and fear towards them, but you didn’t really concern yourself with them. As far as you could tell their primary trade was killing monsters and you weren’t one so you doubted you’d have any dealings with them.

“People usually want to know what he’s like, if he has horns, does he eat babies, etc.,” Jaskier explained.

“Well those people sound… ill-informed,” you said tactfully, “I do have questions though. Not about Geralt, about you.”

“Me?” Jaskier sounded surprised.

“Of course. A classmate goes off and becomes a renowned bard and you don’t think I’m going to have questions?” you asked.

“You never showed much interest in my life or affairs before.”

“I didn’t have to hear about some new rumor about you every day from students before. Well, actually I guess I did. But there were fewer rumors of immortality and frankly based on how you look I’m starting to think those might be right,” you said, taking a sip of your mead and giving him an assessing look. He laughed and took a drink from his ale.

“Not as far as I know, no,” he said.

“But the rest is true, then? Touring the country, the bard with his pet witcher, wooing and rutting around the countryside with great aplomb?”

Jaskier smiled ruefully as he looked down into his drink, thinking about the portrait you painted of him, that had been painted while he was off. He could lie and tell you it was true but he had a feeling you’d know. As he’d said, you always saw through his bullshit.

“Quite the opposite, really. True my songs are well loved and I have successfully reformed many opinions about Geralt, if not witchers on the whole, but I am more often treated as the “pet” of Geralt. The human that follows him around. It’s… not entirely wrong but it’s also horseshit, you know?”

You were surprised by the vulnerability. This wasn’t the proud, blustering Julian of a decade ago. He was still there but there was also a maturity to him. It was deeply unsettling.

“That must be hard for you. You never did like standing in another’s shadow,” you said.

“I have little experience doing so. You understand,” he volleyed. You glowered at him as you took another drink. Yes, some things were still the same.

“And adventuring? How is that suiting you? You a natural at that as you were everything else?” you asked, a bit of bitterness slipping into your tone.

“Gods no,” he said laughing, “No I am… well, I’m better than I was, but I’ve also nearly died more times than I can count so that doesn’t speak to a great amount of skill.”

You felt a little guilty about how validating it was to hear Jaskier state that there was finally something even he couldn’t fake his way through.

“That must be very difficult,” you said, working to keep the satisfaction out of your voice, “Finding the one thing is this world you aren’t naturally adept at without any effort or work.”

“I worked, Y/N,” Jaskier replied, frowning at the implication, “I wrote the same papers you did.”

“Yes, but yours were written 15 minutes before class or turned into an improvised ballad performed on the spot and mine were toiled over for hours in the library and edited mercilessly. We are not the same,” you argued.

“Do you want me to apologize for being naturally talented?” he asked. You scoffed and shook your head, fighting the urge to throw the remaining contents of your cup in his smug face.

“No, Julian, I want you to appreciate that you’re talented. I want you to stop acting like you’re somehow superior and I want you to stop getting everything you want handed to you because you’re from a titled family and famous and never had to really worry about taking care of yourself,” you snapped.

“You think people took care of me?” he replied incredulously, “Y/N my family didn’t give a shit about me. Hell, I don’t know if they even realized I was gone when I went to school. Even the people around me at the university, I knew they didn’t give a shit, they wouldn’t have my back or stick around if I wasn’t constantly making myself useful to them. And you think that’s somehow different now? The witcher barely tolerates my presence some days and I have to work hard to find ways to be useful because I know that if I stop, even for a moment, he will be gone too.”

After he finished he kicked himself for saying it, waiting for a look of pity from you as you listened to him complain. Or contempt because even he knew that it could be worse. But you just nodded slightly, a look of understanding dawning on your face.

“Well. You’re still an ass,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. A wide smile broke out over Jaskier’s face and you couldn’t help but return it. He had that effect on people. For once it didn’t seem self-serving, though, just genuine happiness.

“So is that what you’re doing with me?” you asked, serious again, “Trying to find a way to be useful or charm me so you’ll have a contact back in Oxenfurt?”

“When you put it that way I sound so self-serving,” he scoffed, “No, Y/N. Frankly I don’t need you as a contact. I was invited to lecture here and I seriously doubt you were the one did that.”

You didn’t say anything, glancing awkwardly down at your glass.

“Wait… no… surely not,” Jaskier squinted at you suspiciously and you heaved a great sigh.

“Fine, alright I did. But only because very begrudgingly I have to admit you know what you’re talking about and this segment is hard for students if they don’t care about what they’re studying and nothing makes students care like hearing it from someone new and exciting and oh for the gods’ sake if you don’t stop grinning at me like that I will kick you,” you snapped. Jaskier didn’t heed your warnings, the grin overtaking his face and this time you could resist the pull to smile back. You crossed your arms in front of you in a huff, waiting for him to throw it back in your face, to make some snide remark about proof that he’s smarter than you after all.

“Thank you,” he said after a beat of silence. There was sincerity in his eyes, also unsettling, but also not a bad look on him. “I enjoyed it. I’ve missed the school, really.”

“I suppose it wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened in my classroom. Granted, someone was murdered there a few hundred years ago so the bar is pretty high for that honor,” you sighed. The rest of your evening passed quickly as you shared anecdotes and laughter. Before you knew it the tavern was closing and you were told to get a room or get out. Jaskier had shot you a suggestive smile but you’d rolled your eyes and told him he could walk you home.

“You know this is going to sound silly but I think… Well, I wish maybe we’d been friends in school,” you admitted, lips loosened by the mead and the newfound sense of comradery with the man walking at your side. He laughed, the sound turning to mist in the cool night air, and grinned at you.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. Your face fell and you began to feel embarrassed.

“No, not because of you!” he explained quickly, “But I wasn’t really the sort of person I think you’d have liked back then. I mean, clearly, because you’ve harbored such a long hatred of me.”

“Hatred is a strong word,” you lied, “But you’re probably right. I could be a bit stuck up myself.”

“I’m glad that we’ve reconnected, though. Or I suppose, connected for the first time,” Jaskier said. You arrived at home sooner than you’d expected and you lingered at the door.

“How long are you in town?” you asked.

“I leave tomorrow.”

“Oh… with, uh, what’s his name?”

Jaskier beamed at you as though you’d just given him the finest compliment in his life. And in a way, you had. For once he wasn’t the one whose name was ignored and forgotten.

“Geralt. And yes, I told him I’d meet up with him. Onto the next adventure,” he explained. He was excited by the disappointment in your eyes, almost as excited as the fact that you weren’t yet going inside, perhaps even considering offering him an invite.

“If you want to come back sometime, to lecture and maybe get another drink with an old…” your voice trailed off as you tried to decide what to call what you were now.

“Colleague?”

“Friend?”

“Yes, alright, friend,” you assented, earning yet another wide, beaming smile from Jaskier, “I’d like that. If you have time. I know you’re very busy and important.”

You said the words sarcastically and Jaskier nodded and sighed heavily.

“It’s true, the world needs its songs. But I would be happy to come back again. And see you. And do my part to enlighten the youths of the world. And see you.”

“You said that twice.”

“I meant it doubly much.”

“Doubly much? That can’t be good grammar.”

“Gods, do you ever turn off?” he huffed in amused exasperation.

“Never, it’s one of my charms,” you replied, smirking. Jaskier moved closer and you were reminded of how tall he was. And broad. And handsome.

“I have half a mind to kiss that smirk right off your face,” he murmured, the pale blue eyes caressing them with his gaze.

“You have a half a mind period,” you sassed, a defensive reaction that struck when you were nervous. Most men were turned away by it, and you couldn’t blame them. But sparring was an old game for the two of you and Jaskier smiled, chuckling darkly before saying,

“Alright now you’re gonna get it.”

His lips brushed against yours, featherlight and teasing, and then swept back, a little firmer, capturing your mouth and pressing in closer, one arm wrapping around your waist and pressing you against the door as he slid his tongue through your slightly parted mouth. You sighed into the kiss and he gave a soft moan in return as your tongue found his, entangling and learning the warmth of each other’s mouths, the brush of teeth against lip, the taste of mead and ale blending in a heady mixture. By the time Jaskier pulled back you were both panting slightly. You swallowed hard and looked up into his eyes.

“Are you going to invite me in?” he asked, peppering your jawline with kisses. Your eyes squeezed shut and you licked your lips, summoning your will to be sensible.

“No,” you replied. His kisses stop and he pulled back to look at you, unabashedly surprised.

“No?”

“No,” you answered, “Go on your journeys, Julian Pankratz or Jaskier de Lettenhove or whoever you are or shall be. Go and then return to me. If you can do that, well… Perhaps.”

“I may die,” he intoned dramatically, though he made no move to continue his seduction, taking your words to heart.

“Then there shall be two great tragedies that day,” you answered in a tone that was just as dramatic, “That you have died, and that you never knew the pleasures of my body.”

He laughed, throwing his head back and then leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips.

“You’re a minx. But alright, it’s a date,” he said. You bit your bottom lip, fighting back an argument that it could only really be a date if they both declared it to be and really they had just agreed to meet up as friends but sometimes even you had to admit there was a time and place for being pedantic.

“It’s a date.”

#Anonymous #jaskier x reader #jaskier drabble #jaskier fluff #jaskier angst #reader request #jaskier imagines

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goodwriterwithbadhabits · 4 years

Text

Monsta X as Princes

Master List

Formerly March 23rd

Shownu:

High key the best prince

All the people in his kingdom are excited for him to take the crown

Looks really intimidating

But everyone knows he’s a big ole softy

Uses his size and stature,

Physical and social

To ensure people are following the rules

Ends up being super flirty but he’s just really awkward

Everyone thinks he’s being broody,

But he just doesn’t know how to talk to people

The shyest prince.

Always forgets his crown

Wonho:

The people’s prince

Everyone loves him

He loves everybody

Literally can’t be mean to people

Has a strong sense of justice tho

Says he got strong to be a great hugger

But it’s actually so he can protect people

Walks girls home late at night

Has probably stopped wars by giggling

Minhyuk:

The genius prince

Spends most of his time learning

Helps his father with court stuff all the time

Always ready to step in and take over if something goes weird.

The people see him as being very cold

Or too stuck in his duties

But behind closed doors, he’s playing games with the children of the palace

And teaching them to read.

Would probably order someone killed without feeling bad.

Always ready to defend his people.

A really good sword fighter.

Kihyun:

The scary prince

He’s almost never smiling.

Has, on multiple occasions, ordered someone’s death

Looks really put together

But in reality, he’s not doing hot

Always scared his country will be taken over

Is ready to kill with his bare hands

Will probably poison his dad to take the throne

Carries a sword

Is actually a very sweet person

Who just wants what’s best for his people

Hyungwon:

The Hidden Prince

Always dressed really well

Is either asleep,

Or at a fancy party

Is so much smarter than he lets on

But he knows he won't be so much of a target if he plays dumb

A very adept fighter

Always carries a knife

Studies a lot about politics and public speaking

Likes fashion

Models on occasion

Is very popular and known

But everyone thinks he’s an airhead

And that keeps him safe

For now.

Jooheon:

The Underestimated Prince

He looks like a baby

So people think he doesn’t understand what’s going on

He’s actually super smart

Trained in normal things like public speaking and Poli Sci

But also in Military Strategy and similar things

Never wears his crown

Tries to blend into crowds to learn more about his people.

He doesn’t talk much but when he does its more than what people expected

Very friendly but sees his friends more like allies

Changkyun:

The Two-Sided Prince

Most people know him as a player

But he’s actually very smart and put together

Spends his free time at bars and parties

Living it up and having a good time

People tend to forget he’s the prince

But then the next day he’s at a very important meeting

Casually convincing a former enemy to become an ally,

Way too good at talking to people

Can talk his way into your pants and your purse.

Dates, but mostly just to find out about what his people do for fun.

His crown is always crooked.

The older princes always want to fight him

Never shows up on time,

Always has a cocky smirk

#Monsta X #monsta x shownu #monsta x jooheon #monsta x imagine #monsta x kihyun #monsta x wonho #monsta x minhyuk #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x changkyun #monsta x imagines

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peter-parcoeur · 4 years

Text

“When you’re gone” - part 2

Summary + Chapter 1

Comment if you like it ♥

Chapter II

It had been two weeks now.

Two entire weeks of a world Tony Stark wasn’t part of anymore and still, Peter wasn’t ready to come out and face the emptiness he had left into his own life. It was just too brutal, too confusing, and too sad.

Ned had come to visit almost every day in hope that, at some point, Peter would consider leaving his bedroom and catch some fresh air. Every single attempt failed as he barely had the force to get out of his room to share a meal with his aunt. Sometimes he would simply watch his meal until it was completely cold. His entire world had collapsed and now it felt like he had no goal left. Even thinking about MJ didn’t bring him a single happy thought, he had simply lost interest in his ordinary life.

“School’s starting tomorrow” May stated as she grabbed a few dirty clothes from his bedroom floor “you should get your stuff ready for the big day!”

“You’re calling this a big day?

- Last year of high school, this is HUGE.

- Whatever, I’m not going anyway.”

Peter flinched at the sound of the laundry basket being dropped on the wooden floor. When he looked up, May looked furious.

“Okay that’s it, get up, now!

- Wow, what’s up with you May?

- I’ve been patient and I know you’re hurt honey but I won’t let you drop out of school and make stupid decisions like this! So you better get your ass out of this bed or I’ll drag you out of your bedroom so fast you won’t get to use your freaking magic spider sense!”

She was sat by his bed now, pulling at the cover so she could finally look into his eyes.

“What happened is truly awful and we’ll mourn Tony for as long as we get to live… But… Life needs to go on. You’re 17. Do you think he saved you so you could spend your days in bed playing Fall of Duty in your boxers?

- That’s… Call of Duty actually

- Whatever! This is a stupid game and you’re smarter than this, Peter.

- I just don’t know how to do it…

- One step at a time baby.”

With a tender hand resting on his cheek, she pecked his forehead.

“First step: take a shower, you smell like a rotted dead fish.” She winced, “Happy’s coming over for dinner, he’ll be happy to see you looking fresh.”

“Happy’s been coming a lot lately…

- He’s been really supportive. Now out! Shower!” she snapped her fingers, grabbed her laundry basket and left the room so she wouldn’t have the conversation she was dreading.

There’s was something therapeutic about long, hot showers and though his heart was still heavier than ever, Peter couldn’t deny he was lucky to have May to kick his ass when he needed her to.

Walking back into his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, Peter could smell his aunt famous’ meatloaf cooking from the kitchen. She was right, life would still go on even if it didn’t seem that appealing without his dear friend in it.

As he looked for a fresh pair of pants and some socks, his eyes were inevitably drawn to a few pictures he had pinned on his wall, right above his desk. Every person he’d ever loved was in there. His parents, his uncle Ben and May on their wedding day, Ned, MJ, Happy… And of course, Tony. His heart sunk into his chest as he grabbed a picture of himself holding a little girl wearing Iron Man’s helmet with her hands wrapped around his neck, recognizing Tony’s daughter, Y/N.

If only he had a chance, Peter would go back to this day just so he would get to hang out with Tony and his family again. To think he wouldn’t get to see his daughter grow into a woman (and probably terrorize any man willing to date her) was heartbreaking, especially when he thought of the way she looked at the funeral. She seemed both devastated and angry with no helmet for her to hide her feelings anymore.

He remembered every detail of the day he had met Y/N, 8 years ago.

***

It was the first time Peter ever stepped into Tony Stark’s actual home. So far, they had met at Stark Industries or in random places all over the world but today, Tony had invited his young apprentice into the intimacy of his Home.

The weather was incredible that day, sunny and warm like a summer afternoon even though it was in the middle of March. Peter didn’t know why he’d been lucky enough to be invited here but he felt extremely thankful for it.

“Hi Peter, please come in” Pepper buzzed him in on the huge monitor in front of the main gate. Of course Tony Stark’s house was surrounded by a thousand of video cameras. After all, he was one of the most powerful man in New-York City, not to mention that he was, well, Iron Man.

Stepping into such a huge mansion wasn’t anodyne for Peter, a kid from Forest Hills. This looked nothing like anything he’d seen back in the Queens.

“He’s down in his workshop if you want to join!” Pepper smiled as she seemed busy with paperwork. She quickly led him towards the elevator, giving him the instructions to enter the basement like he was standing in the heart of the SHIELD’s offices. Everything seemed cool and impressive for an ordinary teenager.

Peter could hear AC/DC blasting from afar as he reached the basement. In front of the big steel doors he found a screen, just like Pepper had told him and as soon as he stood in front of it, a facial scan started.

“Welcome, Peter Parker” – with a click, the main doors opened for him.

“Hi kiddo!” Tony was working on a new armor that looked like a bigger, smarter version of his original Iron Man suit. Peter had always been impressed at how easy Tony made it look when it came to technology. As much of a geek he might be, Peter could never be on that level of perfection.

“New suit?

- Yeah… Well, we’ll see where this goes, I’ve been thinking.”

Tony always seemed to say this. It’s like he never slept at night because somehow, that’s when his greatest ideas came alive. It was just crazy to think that a man could come up with incredible weapons and crazy armors just over a sleepless night. Would he be given the same amount of time, Peter wouldn’t even get through a school assignment.

“Your house is incredible, thanks for the invite Mr Stark

- It’s Tony

- Alright, Tony.” Peter smiled, genuinely flattered Tony Stark himself would consider him close enough to name it anything but Mr Stark.

- By the way, not that I wouldn’t have you there randomly but… Someone was dying to meet you and you know me, I aim to please.

- Really, who!?”

Peter was secretly hoping it would be Nick Fury. He was just as scared as an admirer of the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. He couldn’t wait for the day he would make him an Avenger. To this day, it remained his biggest dream.

“Come on out honey, don’t be shy…” Tony smiled in a way Peter had never seen before.

Clearly, he would never call Nick Fury “honey”, so that dream was off the table for today.

Then a little girl came out, fiddling with her hands and avoiding all eye contact.

“Hi?” Peter smiled at her shyness, “is that Y/N?”

“My one and only” Tony stated proudly.

Tony had told him about his daughter, Y/N and how she had changed his whole life. What didn’t matter before, like getting injured or stepping closer to an inevitable death, mattered now. Happy had even told Peter that becoming a father had made Tony more anxious, more stressed. It was a different dynamic now that he had something to lose. Of course there was Pepper too, but she was hot and smart, she’d find a new husband. Y/N would never find a new dad.

Getting down on one knee, Peter welcomed the little girl as warm as possible. She could sense she was a bit star struck for some reason, but he had always been amazing with kids. She wouldn’t be the exception.

“Hi, I’m Peter!” he beamed, reaching for her hand.

“Oh she knows!” Tony chuckled “she’s not usually that shy, she’s just… impressed.” Tony watched the expression on Peter’s face change immediately “Don’t get too cocky, she just likes you very veeeery much, right honey?”

The little girl nodded then went straight into Peter’s arms for a hug.

“Aw that’s cute!” Peter smiled, holding the little girl against him.

“Yeah well, be careful, her dad’s kind of a psycho!”

Looking closer, Peter could definitely tell she was a Stark. She had her father’s eyes and mischievous smile but sometimes she would give you one of Pepper’s famous cocky look. Everything about her screamed “I’m the result of two geniuses’ love” and he could tell she’d become a smart ass in the future. Secretly, he hoped he’d still be around to see that, only because it would mean Tony would still be his mentor.

The rest of the day went blissfully. Peter learned more about Y/N and had the privilege to see her “astrology” themed bedroom with a ceiling covered with stars that would shine in the dark, her massive telescope her daddy had built for her 8th birthday and all twelve names of her favorite toys. Out of everything, the cutest thing was the spider-man figurine she kept on her bedside table. There was no denying he was for sure, her favorite super-hero.

When Peter left, Tony grabbed Y/N into his arms for her to wave goodbye to her new friend.

“Daddy? She asked after a while

- Yes sweetheart?

- When I grow up, I want to marry spider-man.”

Pepper couldn’t help but laugh at Tony’s face, a perfect mix between the astonishment and the one he’d given her when she had keyed his favorite car “just for fun”.

“That kid will have to kill me first” he joked, walking back into the house as he held the most precious gift life had given him.

Thinking about it, Peter probably wasn’t the worst choice she could make… when she’d turn 30.

***

“Peter???”

Peter realized he must have blacked out for a while when he caught a glimpse of his aunt May and Happy at his doorway. How long had he been dreaming?

“Oh errr, sorry, I was just… thinking… Good to see you Happy!

- Hi kid, I’d give you a hug but you’re underage and shirtless, so that’s weird!” Happy joked, pointing at Peter’s naked chest.

- Dinner’s ready, May added, whenever you feel like joining us?

- I’ll be out in a minute.”

Peter sighed as he pinned the picture back on the wall, wondering if he’d ever get to speak to Y/N again.

#tony stark #avengers #mcu #marvel #peter parker #robert downey jr #tom holland #avengers fanfiction #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x reader

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idksupernatural · 4 years

Text

Long Way Home: Twilight Zone (Part 1)

a/n: Here's the first chapter!! I'm soooo glad that we were able to post this. I'm really exited to see where this series goes and how it takes off. I have so many ideas for this series. So make sure to stay tuned!!

Summary Series: The Winchesters, Dean, Alex, and Sam, live in an abusive household since they were put into foster care. Eric and Rachael have been their adopted parents since they were put into foster care. Since senior year has come and Dean and Alex are turning 18, Eric and Rachael have been putting the siblings in bad situations ever since summer break and the year prior. What will happen one night everything turns upside down in a blink of an eye? What will happen if Dean is handed his siblings life?

Chapter One Summary: When Dean has to confess a secret he has to Alex, it turns out fairly well.

Word Count: 2,454 words

Series Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only! under aged smut. Fluff, angst, swearing, alcohol intoxication, underage drug use, underage drinking. Heartbreak, crying, flashbacks, nightmares, trauma. Description of child abuse, domestic violence, self-harming, and rape. Stress, mental breakdowns, anxiety attacks, depression, suicide attempts. Description of blood and injuries, hospital scenes, near death experiences, more warnings. I can go on forever.

Chapter Warnings: Fluffy Dean, swearing, angst, drunk!Dean, underage drinking, nightmare, mentions of domestic abuse, mention of self-harming(slightly), stressing over Dean being drunk. Slight mention of homophobia. Let me know if I’m missing any more warnings for this chapter.

Characters in Chapter: Dean, Alex, and Michael. Mentions of Cas, Sam, Charlie Bradbury, Rachael, and Eric.

This fic goes out to @katehuntington and her 1k celebration, congrats!!! I used ‘Twilight Zone’ by Golden Earring for this fic. Hope you like it. :)

----

'Ask anyone in this school about being a freak and they'll point to me, no questions asked. They always wonder why I'm this way, having a twin brother who rules the school, catching all the ladies, and a nerd of a brother who's too good to be here, who I say is way smarter than me, even though I'm at the top of my classes. But they don't know, and don't want to know, why I am who I am. When it comes to sex and partying, they're all over me and still can't figure out why...'

I type down the words on my computer, trying to let go of my problems. Cas said it would help me lift some pressure off my chest because, apparently, he does it every night to help him calm down. I call bull, but he insists on it. Without even noticing, Dean comes up to the top bunk and closes the computer on me. I barely move my hands out of the way before it slams shut.

"Hey," I screeched, putting my computer under my pillow.

"Bed time, loser," he said, laying down next to me.

I was trying to get comfortable on the bed, noticing Dean doing the same. This only meant one thing, and I wasn't in the mood.

"I was wondering if I can sleep with you and maybe. . .we can talk?" he asked, whispering so they couldn't hear us. I pulled a face at him telling him what I was thinking so he got the hint.

"We-we don't need to talk, I-I actually have to. Can you just, maybe, listen?" He stuttered over his words. Something must be up because he always stutters when something is bothering him. I changed my expression quickly, slightly smiling to make him comfortable.

We settled under the blankets, the room already dark from when Dean closed the door. I could hear Sammy's light snores from the bottom bunk, telling me he was out like a light.

Dean was hesitant to talk to me. His face was open like a book and I could easily read it in the sliver of light that was slipping through the window.

"You know you can talk to me, right? I'm always here for you and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I just don't know how to say it," he said, cutting me off, clearly thinking of what he wanted to say.

"Okay, so," he began. I pulled his hands into mine, squeezing them, letting him know that I was here and that it was safe. "I'm kinda dating Cas. Actually, we've been dating since the summer, and. . .and I couldn't keep hiding this from you. If you're not okay with it, then tell me straight up, I'll be fine bu-"

"Dean, why wouldn't I be okay with it? You always seemed happy with him since we were small. You guys always give each other that look when you see each other, I'm surprised you didn't start dating sooner! I'm happy that you're together. You have someone who can love you," I said. Deep down, I was doing a little happy dance because Dean was so carefree whenever he's with Cas and I'm always happy to see him happy. They've been giving each other googoo eyes since the fifth grade and it's been painful just watching their endless pining.

"Wait, so you're not mad?" I nodded rapidly. "You're completely okay with this?"

"Yes, I am Dean! Quit worrying," I said, trying to reassure him. "But," I began, and his happy expression dropped, "you can't let Eric and Rachael know about this. They will murder you, and that's not going to happen on my watch." I pulled him into a side hug.

"Yeah, I know that much," he sassed back, and I could feel him roll his eyes. He squeezed me tightly.

We layed in each other's arms, and just like every time this has happened before, we found it comfortable. I breathe in his scent, forever familiar in my head. Whiskey (he drinks it a lot, but I don't say anything), oil that hasn't quite come off of him after his shower, and this one smell that I couldn't quite describe, but it was just the smell of Dean and that's all I needed to know.

I could feel sleep overtaking me, the darkness consuming me. Before I let the darkness engulf me fully, I feel Dean lay a lingering kiss on the top of my head.

"I just hope you'll be happy too," he whispers into the air.

Finally, I let the darkness consume me.

I pounded on the door for what seemed to be the hundredth time, growing more annoyed with Dean.

"I've been out here for the past five minutes," I shouted, "hurry and wrap it up!" I pounded my first harder on the door, surprised they have not started to hurt.

I can hear mumbling on the other side of the door, and seconds later he comes out, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Dude, you reek of sex and that isn't the way we want to walk into the house. You know that place is a madhouse! It's already two a.m. and we were supposed to be home at ten forty-five. I'm really glad Sammy asked to sleep over at a friend's house tonight," I scoffed furiously, grabbing at his arm. One look into his eyes and I knew we were fucked. He was drunk. Of course he's drunk! He gave me that smirk, that cocky and full-of-shit smirk, and oh my GOSH I just wanted to punch it right off his face.

"Y'know, y'look. . . y'look funny when yer mad." His voice was higher than it was supposed to be, his words slurring together. He tried to go in for a hug, giggling intensely.

"No, no, no. No hugs Dean! You look like you've been to every sex club in existence, you smell like a bar, and-are you even listing to a word I'm saying?!" I gripped his arm harder, trying to pull him with me to no avail.

"Nope." He popped the p and gave me a goofy smile. God, he looks so happy right now, I thought. I wish I could make him look this happy everyday.

"Okay," I patted him on his shoulder, sighing and loosening my grip on his arm, "okay."

We started making our way downstairs. I grabbed our coats and my purse that were in the hallway closet before I headed back to Dean, who was sitting on the couch, his eyes drooping from drowsiness trying to take over his body.

"Come on buddy, time to get up." I lightly shake him awake. He squinted his eyes at me.

"Uuugghh I don't wanna gooo!" Dean whined. I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes.

"Well boo-hoo your ass. I was down here watching everyone, and by that I mean I was watching everyone making out with each other, sitting here waiting for you." I pulled on his arm, but he wouldn't budge. Then, I smirked at an idea that popped in my head. "If you don't get your lazy ass up, we won't drive in Baby."

Dean's eyes grew wide, and he stood up immediately, swaying. I steadied him, giving him his coat. He stared at it and giggled, and I rolled my eyes and took his hand, leading him to the door.

I open the door, the air stinging my face as I practically dragged Dean behind me, a trail of giggles and nonsense leaving his mouth. I walk to the top of the steps leading down to the sidewalk, stopping at the sight I see.

The yellow light from the streetlamps illuminates the scene of my friend, Charlie Bradbury, kissing some random girl. I stumble, taking a few steps back, and I feel Dean bump into me.

"Shwoops!" Dean exclaimed loudly, startling Charlie and her. . ."friend."

Charlie stares at me for what feels like forever. I wait for her to say something, anything, but she says nothing. I clear my throat and make it down the steps with Dean clumsily following behind me, a weird feeling in my stomach. I mean, it's not like I should care, It's not like she's my girlfriend. We're only friends! And it seems like she was enjoying her make out sesh with whoever that was. . .

I shake my head to clear my thoughts, dragging Dean behind me. He yanks his hand free from my grip and walks in front of me to reach the car, kindly opening the door to the passenger's seat for me.

"M'lady," he says, drawing out the y, bowing down to me, stumbling over his feet. I rolled my eyes, thinking to myself, Why, God, why do I have to be related to this dumbass?

Dean stood upright, his hand fumbling in his pocket to get his keys. Once he got them, he attempted to swirl them around his finger, but ended up with the keys on the sidewalk. He giggled and said, "I'mma drive." I sighed, annoyed, and picked the keys up from the sidewalk. I pushed Dean into the passenger seat, receiving a giggle in reply. "Yer, thehe, really fhu. . .fhunny, d'you know that?"

"Yes, Dean, I know that we established this already. Now c'mon, we need to get out of here," I said, patting his shoulder and reaching out to close the door.

"Okie dokie," he said, laughing quietly as I closed the door.

"This is why Sammy likes me better," I muttered under my breath, heading to the driver's side of the car and getting in.

"You ready? Because I am," I stated to Dean, closing the door behind me and turning the ignition on. When I heard the rumble of Baby's engine roar, I knew we were set.

----

We stopped by an abandoned parking lot for the night, not wanting to go "home." I headed to the back seat and got comfortable, using my jacket as a pillow.

"Dean?" I asked, receiving a hum in response. "How sober are you?"

"Mostly not drunk, why?" he asked, seriousness in his voice.

"Just askin'," I replied back, keeping it short. A feeling I knew too well settled over the car. Silence. It felt like we were wrapped up in silence, and I felt it crushing me. The itch is back on my arms and I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to think about what happened earlier today. The reason why I agreed to go to the party in the first place, to numb the feeling. But, of course I couldn't because I needed to take care of my ass of a brother here. I reached under the passenger's seat and grabbed my new best friend, tequila. I popped the cap off and took a swig, the familiar liquid burning throughout my throat and chest.

After a few moments of crushing silence and me going to town with my tequila best friend, I heard gun shots in the distance. Dean and I startled, looking at each other. We looked out the window to the lot so we could figure out where the sound came from. Dean sprang up from his seat and headed out of the car.

"Dean get back in the car, you don't know who could be out there!" I whispered yelled, afraid of getting caught. I reached out, grabbing his elbow and spinning him around. "You're still wasted, so get your ass back in the car!"

"What if somebody's hurt, Alex?" he whispers yelled back at me. "I'm technically the older one in this situation, so you should just let me go!"

"Letting you go my ass! If you're gonna fight me on this, I'm at least gonna go with you and that is period," I replied fiercely. He huffed, turning away, looking for the potential threat.

"Fine, come on."

"Ugh, fine."

So with that, we walked through the abandoned lot, using our flashlights from our phones. The only things I could hear were our quiet footsteps and Dean's heavy breathing. My heart started thumping so fast and hard that it felt like it would burst out of my chest, and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears with every step I took. Dean stopped abruptly, causing me to bump into him.

"What the hell, du-"

"Shut up, look!"

There it was; the gun. There was blood splattered all over the chamber and handle.

"Give me your bandana," I said quickly.

"Why?!" Dean asked, exasperated, but still reaching in his pocket to get the bandana out.

"Just give me the damn thing," I said, yanking it out of his hand, lay the piece of cloth on top of the gun, and gently pick it up. The gun still warm under my touch, examining it, then putting it back down as gently as I picked it up. "The chamber's still hot but there weren't any dents or scratches on it. So the attacker," my breath hitched, "the attacker-"

"He must have left it there," a familiar voice said, startling us both. "Hands where I can see 'em, darling." I mentally cringed at the name, a shiver going down my spine. I turned around and saw the last person I ever wanted to see, slowly inching closer to Dean.

"What are you doing here? Last time I checked, you moved out of Lawrence," Dean spat, anger growing inside of him.

"Well, you ain't in Lawrence anymore. You're in my turf now, Winchesters." He reached for the gun, pointing it at us. All the sirens in my head were going off, telling me to get as far away as I could with Dean, but we really couldn't do that at the moment because of the gun being pointed at us. And, by the weight of when I picked it up, it was fully loaded.

"Put the goddamn gun down Michael, we all know you won't shoot us," Dean spat, venom leaking from his words, ready to fight him at any second.

"Maybe, maybe not. But one thing I know for certain is that I despise the Winchester's guts." His finger lingered over the trigger.

"Just put the gun down, Michael," I said from my spot next to Dean.

"You guys put me through hell this past year. So, why don't you give me a perfectly good reason to not shoot both of you right now?" He was met with silence, Dean and I not uttering a word. "That's what I thought."

I was starting to realize at this moment that eternal fate has turned its back on us. He pulled the trigger, and the last thing I heard was BANG!

----

a/n #2: hiya! thank you to all of those reading this, i appreciate it a lot. i love editing this story and encouraging my friend, so i hope you love it as well! - Kati Bee

a/n #3: I want a special thanks to my sweet friend, kati bee. I wouldn't know where this chapter would have gone without her. I know many writers say this but feedback and likes are kindly appreciated. It's letting us know that you guys are enjoying the story and wanting us to continue the story, as well.

a/n #4: forgot to mention that Dean and Alex are twins,17 going to 18, and Sam is 13 going to 14.

#Kate Huntington’s 1K celebration #first fic #hope it goes well #LWH #chapter 1 #fluffy dean #drunk dean #twins #Dean #Destiel #Alex #Sammy

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petertingle-yipyip · 5 years

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Saturday Nights - Peter Parker

//Requested by @mixed-fandoms-girl: Peter Parker x reader Peter Parker x Smart! girlfriend! reader she’s the smartest kid but doesn’t go to midtown and when flash is making fun of Peter at Liz’s party and talks about his imaginary girlfriend, she shows up and proves flash wrong //

//Warnings: Language. Pairings: Peter x reader//

You laid in Peter’s bed and read over your math assignment, waiting for him to get home from school. Dating someone who was as smart if not smarter than yourself was great. The only thing that made it a struggle was going to different schools. Your parents wanted to send you to Midtown School of Science and Technology, but you were adamantly against it. You had nothing against Midtown or the kids that went there. It would’ve been a great fit for you academically. You just liked being at a normal, public school that had a little bit of everything, not just the typical “smart” subjects. Your current school was a more social environment, more lax and fun.

Often, you went to Peter’s after you got out of school. You ended school about an hour before he did, but after picking up snacks for you two to study with and the walk to his apartment, your arrivals were only about twenty minutes apart. Aunt May always welcomed you in, joking that you might as well get a key. She absolutely loved you being with Peter, saying it made him so happy.

“Hey!” He said happily as he entered his room and tossed his backpack by his bed. You rolled over, pushing yourself to sit up and tossed your assignment aside. “Working on homework?”

“Nah, just looking at it.” You shrugged. “You know Calculus kills me and I avoid it for as long as humanly possible.”

“I can always help you, you know.” He offered, dropping to lay in his bed with his head in your lap. “I’m actually really smart.” He said proudly.

“I never would’ve guessed.” You teased, tugging on the Midtown sweatshirt he was wearing. “Besides, I’m pretty smart myself in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“What’s the topic?” He laughed.

“Derivatives.” You said, handing him your assignment. “Literally the worst part of Calc.”

“I always thought logarithms were worse.” He countered.

“Don’t even get me started on logs!” You said with a laugh. “Those are literally the devil of mathematics. Honestly, why do they even exist? But derivatives are torture. Who say around and thought that derivatives needed to be a necessary concept? What do they prove? They prove how useless they are, that’s about it. And then there’s anti-derivatives and those really make me wanna hit myself in the face with my textbook.”

“But your face is too cute to hit with a book.” He said with a stupid grin and he reached up with his other hand and patted your cheek affectionately.

“You are so cheesy.” You laughed.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, letting his hand drop to his chest. “But you like it. You find it endearing.”

“Your vocabulary is astounding, my dear.” You nodded. “But have you ever stopped to contemplate the philosophy that I, as a female, was just so infatuated with your virtue, your true innocence, that I could not help but swoon and give my heart to the lovable virtuoso that is, Peter Parker?” You said, using your best scholastic voice.

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N. I have gone over the possibility oh so many times.” He said with an exaggerated sigh. “Alas, there is not enough evidence to prove such a theory. Being that this virtuoso you speak of can only attract someone with a similar talent and aptitude, what else would be so outstanding about one, Peter Parker?”

“An interesting question, indeed.” You stifled a laugh. “Maybe it’s the suit.” You winked.

Of course you knew Peter was Spiderman. He didn’t mean for you to find out. He did everything in his power to hide it from you. You found out by accident. You had been staying the night at his place and restlessness had taken over. You couldn’t sleep and had rolled over to find an empty bed. You figured Peter had gotten up for water or needed to use the bathroom so you paid it no mind. But once his window opened and he crept through it carefully, your mind tried to convince you it was a dream. The next morning, you asked Peter flat out if he was Spiderman, and his stammering and lack of excuses proved you right.

“Oh, is that right?” He raised an eyebrow as his cheeks turned a slight pink.

“Yeah.. I mean, have you seen yourself in the suit?” You laughed.

“Have you seen yourself in that denim skirt?” He replied with a cocky smirk.

“Touche, Parker.” You nodded with a smile still.

“Hey, are you busy this weekend?” He asked suddenly, dropping your work on the floor.

“Actually, yes.” You nodded, gently running your fingers through his hair. “But I can easily cancel my plans for you. What did you have in mind?”

“No, if you’re busy it’s okay.” He shook his head. “I just thought you could use something to ease your stress..”

“Peter, what did you have in mind?” You repeated your question with a soft smile. “I’d cancel plans with anyone to spend time with you. Plus, I only made these plans cause you and I didn’t have anything planned. Besides, there’s a few different ways you can help with my stress. ” You winked. His cheeks flushed pink again.

“It’s just.. Liz is having a party this weekend and I was hoping that you would want to come with me..” He said with a small shrug, as if it was out of the ordinary for you two to do things together. It reminded you of when he asked you out for the first time and it brought a soft smile to your face and a warmth to your heart.

“Liz, isn’t she the girl you liked before me?” You questioned.

You had no issues with Liz. She never made you feel insecure in your relationship or with yourself. In fact, you were rather curious in regards to her. You never met her, but had heard all about her. You knew Ned and met Michelle on a few occasions. But never Liz.

Peter jumped up quickly, causing you to jump slightly. He turned to face you, taking your hands in his tightly. “Not like that! Not like that at all!” He explained quickly. You were still surprised by his quick actions and you couldn’t stop your laughter.

“Pete, I’m not worried about Liz. I never have been.” You explained with a smile. “Of course, I’ll go with you. I finally get to meet her.”

“Wait, you want to meet her?” He asked in shock.

“Yeah, I mean why not?” You shrugged, letting go of one of his hands to lean down and pick up your math work. “I can finally see who you liked before you met me... Now, help me get through these derivatives and we’ll talk more about it. Or we can start a different stress reliever.”

“You don’t need my help and you know it, Y/N. Except maybe for the stress relief.” He laughed, taking his own backpack off the floor. “You’re the smartest girl I know.”

“Maybe...” You hinted. “But it’s cute when you explain things for me. I mean, you are pretty smart after all..”

The night of Liz’s party, Aunt May offered to pick you up. You told her it was fine and your mom could take you since you needed a bit more time to get ready. You texted Peter, telling him you’d be there soon as you hopped into your mom’s car.

At the party, Peter and Ned wandered the crowd.

“She’s gonna be here soon.” Peter assured his friend as he checked his phone and saw your message.

Leaving right now. mom’s dropping me off but i’ll probably go home with you if you dont mind. be there soon xx

“What are you gonna do till she gets here?” Ned asked. “Everyone doesn’t believe she’s real. Everyone even thinks the pictures you have are photoshopped!”

“I’m just gonna be myself.” Peter shrugged slightly.

“Peter, no one wants that.” Ned said in return.

“Hey!” Flash announced on the microphone. “It’s Penis Parker! Hey dumbass, where’s your girlfriend? Is she studying for this ‘other school’ she goes to?” He tormented.

“Told you.” Ned sighed and Peter rolled his eyes.

“She’ll be here.” Peter assured. “She’s on the way, I swear.”

You stepped out of the car in front of Liz’s house, the bass hitting so hard you could hear it on the street. Your mom asked when you needed to be picked up, but you waved her off, saying you would go home with Peter. You pulled your phone out to call him as you entered the house.

“Did your imaginary girlfriend bail on you? When I say Penis, you say Parker. Penis!” A boy said, the crowd following his instructions.

“That must be Flash.” You muttered as you pushed through the people. You saw Ned’s hat over the top of the crowd and made your way over there.

“Hello, Lover Boy.” You smiled widely as you finally found your boyfriend. You kissed him quickly before greeting his friend. “Hey, Ned. Nice hat.” You wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and his arm came around your shoulder. You leaned into him slightly and used your other hand to reach up and lace your fingers together.

“Thanks Y/N!” Ned smiled.

“So, I’m guessing the asshat on the mic is that kid Flash?” You asked the boys, glancing to the DJ booth.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Ned confirmed.

“He’s a bitter little boy, isn’t he?” You joked. “Oh! Sorry I’m late, by the way. I couldn’t decide between the blue and red stripes or the black and green stripes to match the denim skirt.”

“The blue and red is nice.” Peter said kindly.

“Like Spiderman!” Ned exclaimed.

“Uh, yeah... I guess.” You replied with a smile.

“You have a crush on Spiderman!” Ned said in amusement. “So does she..” He nodded to something behind you. Before you could question, you were greeted by a friendly voice.

“Peter, Ned!” A girl said as she came up and joined the group. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I told you we’d be here.” Ned said happily. “Oh, Peter. Introduce her!” He said quietly.

“Right! Sorry.” Peter laughed slightly. “Y/N, this is Liz. Liz, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Girlfriend? Wow. Hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that or anything I just didn’t know Peter had a girlfriend.” Liz said with a smile. It was a sad smile, as if she was upset Peter had a girlfriend. Maybe she was harboring some feelings for him.

“From what I can tell, no one believes he does.” You laughed and nodded towards Flash. “Apparently, I’m imaginary.”

“You look pretty real to me.” She laughed. “I’ve never seen you around before. Are you new or-”

“No, I actually don’t go to Midtown.” You shook your head. “I had the option before this year started but I didn’t want to. It’s too... focused for me, I guess is the best way to put it. I just like the range of classes a regular high school offers.”

“But she’s a genius!” Ned interjected.

“I wouldn’t say that but I’m alright.” You said modestly.

“Alright? Y/N, you’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met!” Peter countered.

“Really?” Liz questioned with a bit of bitterness in her voice. “That smart, huh?”

“So they say.” You shrugged. “Sorry if this is weird but you are really pretty.” You complemented honestly.

“You think so? Thank you! I love that top. Red and blue look so good together!” She replied. “Well, I have to make my rounds so have fun. Drinks are in the kitchen, if you need anything.” She nodded with a perfect hostess smile before leaving.

“I don’t think she likes me very much..” You commented as she walked away.

“I thought I was the only one picking up on that.” Ned agreed.

“What are you guys talking about?” Peter questioned. “I think that went okay.”

“Okay, but Peter, there’s an unspoken rule between girls that when a girl compliments you, you compliment her back.” You explained. “It’s a whole thing focused on women supporting women.”

“But if it’s unspoken, how is every girl supposed to know?” Peter questioned.

“They just do. It’s practically in our DNA. I’ll show you.” You said, turning to see Michelle not to far away.

“Hey, Michelle!” You called for her attention. “That dress is cute!” You smiled.

“Huh? Oh, thanks.” She said casually. “Your skirt looks good.” She nodded.

“See what I mean?” You said to Peter.

“I can’t believe you guys are at this lame party.” She told the boys.

“But... you’re here?” Ned replied, just as confused as the rest of us.

“Am I?” She said before disappearing into the crowd.

“She’s interesting...” You thought out loud. “I like her.”

“So wait, is there an issue between you and Liz or...” Peter asked.

You giggled slightly. “No, not an issue. I just don’t think she likes me.”

“Well, Liz has a crush on Spiderman.” Ned explained. “But it kinda seems like she has a crush on Peter, too.”

“Alright, how much is he paying you?” Flash asked as he suddenly stood in front of you.

“Excuse me?” You said in offense. “Fuck out of here with that.”

“How much did Parker pay you to show up and pretend to be his date?” Flash clarified.

“He didn’t pay me, you ass. He asked cause I’m his girlfriend.” You laughed in annoyance. “Which I’m assuming is more than you have based on your immaculate personality..” You added sarcastically. “You’ll catch more flies with honey... I’m just saying.”

“So you’re Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“The genius that doesn’t go to Midtown?”

“Yeah.”

“Prove it.” He challenged. “Or are you just some above average public school kid that actually has more than three functioning brain cells?”

“What do you wanna know, dickwad?” You said confidently.

“What is the most abundant protein in the human body?”

“Duh, collagen. 25-35 percent of the human body is collagen, which forms connective tissue like the ligaments, tendons, and skin. Next.”

“What’s the anti-derivative of a cosecant squared?”

“I hate calculus. Negative cotangent of x plus the constant, k. Don’t insult me by asking kindergarten questions.”

“Definition of antiestablishmentarianism.”

“Not much of a challenge. EVen though I doubt you can even spell antiestablishmentarianism.” You laughed. “It’s a political philosophy that views a nation's or society's power structure as corrupt, repressive, exploitative, or unjust. It’s basically opposition to the conventional principles of society.”

“Who introduced the theory of punctuated equilibrium?”

“Obviously, Gould and Eldredge. And that’s all the time we have for today on How Can This Random Asshole Ruin This Date With My Boyfriend featuring This Random Asshole.” You said in a gameshow host type voice.

“And you’re seriously dating him?” He pointed to Peter.

“Obviously.” You sighed in annoyance. “And you go to Midtown? Maybe I should transfer that way someone can actually challenge Peter on an intellectual level and not compensate by being a physical challenge. I mean, who does that anymore?”

“Are you blind or something?”

“No, cause I can see exactly how ugly your personality is, but then again I’m not a genius, remember? Above average public school kid that actually has more than three functioning brain cells, I believe is what you called me.”

“How did you even meet? He’s a total loser.”

“What’s it to you?” You laughed. “Your dumbass didn’t believe I was real five minutes ago. Plus, you’ve been getting on my last nerve so if we’re done here, you can leave.”

“Why would you even consider dating him? You’re hot enough that you could date like, young Leonardo DiCaprio or something.”

“Who wouldn’t wanna date Peter?” You said as if it was obvious. “He’s peak boyfriend material.”

And to you it was. Peter was beautiful. He was sweet, kind, smart. He held the door open for you and stayed up late on the phone with you until you fell asleep. He offered help with your homework and asked you to stay with him almost every other night. He made cheesy jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at. He was shy and awkward. But that’s what made him so perfect to you.

“Are you convinced yet, cause I’m growing rather uninterested with you.” You said plainly.

“You’re lying.” He crossed his arms, refusing to believe you. “There’s no way Penis Parker scores a total babe like you.”

“Tell me then, Flash, since you seem to know my life. If I was lying, would I do this?” You said slowly, turning to face Peter.

“What are you doing?” Peter whispered, slightly nervous.

“Just trust me.” You said in the same hushed tone with a small chuckle.

You took his face in your hands and pulled him to you. Your lips met softly at first, you pulling away a few times to tease him. He smiled against your lips as his hands fell to your hips and gently pulled you closer. You two kissed each other deeply, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. When you were out of breath, you pulled away and smiled. Peter’s cheeks flushed a bright red, a shy smile graced his face.

“See? I told you to trust me.” You winked before you turned to face the bully who stared at you two in shock.

“So not only are you Peter’s alternate for the academic decathlon, but he has a girlfriend before you do.” You laughed. “You talk a big game for someone in second place.”

“I.. But you’re- And he’s-” Flash stammered.

“Bye, now.” You wiggled your fingers and Flash slowly walked away, still muttering an incoherent response.

“That.. was.. hilarious!” Ned said loudly. “I’ve never seen Flash look so flustered!”

“It’s what he deserves.” You shrugged with a proud smile. “Now, why are we standing around still? This is a party after all! Let’s dance!” You said happily as you dragged Peter to the dancefloor.

“No, Y/N I- I don’t- I don’t really dance.” He said nervously.

“No one really dances at parties!” You said over the music. “Everyone just jumps around or find the closest person to grind on. No big deal. Just go with it, Pete.”

You spent the rest of the night on the dancefloor with Peter. Ned came and went but you were focused on Peter. His hands on your waist. Your hands on his arms.

“This is cute.” You tugged the top of his flannel that he left unbuttoned. “You always look cute in a flannel.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, a red tint finding his cheeks again. “Hey, thanks for coming.”

“Anything for you, Peter. Anything for you.” You said softly as you leaned in to kiss him gently.

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