❥・I'm 26 years old • She/Her pronouns
❥・MPH graduate who finished school and now channels all remaining brain cells into fan fiction.
🖤 18+ ONLY. Minors, please do not interact. This blog contains adult themes 🖤
✦ Multifandom writer ✦
Mostly Marvel, DC, and whatever currently has me in a chokehold.
Characters I will write for:
Marvel / X-Men
Logan Howlett
Scott Summers
Remy LeBeau
Wade Wilson
Young Erik Lehnsherr
Young Charles Xavier
Tony Stark
Steve Rogers
Thor
Loki
DC
Bruce Wayne
Clark Kent
Hal Jordan
Jason Todd
Dick Grayson
Stranger Things
Steve Harrington
Invincible
Mark Grayson
At the moment, I’m writing what inspires me and keeping things low-pressure ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Feel free to use my "ask" button or send me a direct message!
❥ Character x reader fics (no Y/N usage)
❥ Gender-neutral or female reader
❥ Themes may include fluff, angst, tension, and mature topics
❥ Format varies: one-shots, headcanons, drabbles, and series
Summary: After everything Hawkins has been through, Steve Harrington finds comfort in routine: teaching, coaching, and keeping his life deliberately small. When a new English teacher arrives, that careful balance begins to shift in quiet, unexpected ways.
Pairing: Female!Reader x Steve Harrington
Word Count: 595 words
Tags: Fluff, no monsters, just feelings
Author's Note: It’s been a while. This story feels like the right way to come back, something quiet, comforting, and familiar. Thank you to everyone who’s still here, and welcome to anyone new 🤍
(Blog Intro🤍 )
The baseball field hums with late-afternoon life. Sneakers scuff dirt. A whistle cuts the air once, sharp but not unkind. You pause at the edge of the bleachers, notebook tucked under your arm out of habit, even though there’s nothing left to grade today.
You tell yourself you're only staying a few minutes. Steve’s voice carries easily across the field, warm and commanding without asking for attention yet earning it anyway.
“Alright, eyes on me. Remember, we run through first base, not past it like you’re escaping a crime scene.” The kids laugh. One nearly trips over their own feet trying to prove a point. Steve jogs over, crouching, adjusting a helmet that’s clearly too big.
“Hey,” he says gently. “We’re learning. That’s the whole deal.” You watch the moment settle. The way the kid straightens. The way Steve claps once, firm and proud.
Coach Steve. Health Department Harrington, technically. Sex ed by morning. Baseball by afternoon.
You still don’t know how he does it.
Someone beside you murmurs something approving, and you smile politely, eyes never leaving the field. Steve moves with the same quiet confidence you’ve seen in the hallways. The same patience he shows when a classroom gets restless. The same steadiness he brings to every space without announcing it.
At some point, he looks up. Finds you.
His step stutters just barely. Enough that only you notice. His expression shifts, softening at the edges, as if the day has tilted in a better direction. You lift your hand in a small wave.
He grins, then catches himself, clearing his throat and clapping his hands together. “Okay! Positions!”
The game rolls on. Uneven hits. Loud encouragement. A win that feels monumental to the kids and, to the rest of the world, pleasantly insignificant.
When it’s over, parents filter in, scooping up backpacks, water bottles, and sweaty high-fives. Steve waits until the field is clear before heading your way, baseball tucked under one arm as if he’s not entirely sure what to do with it.
“You didn’t stay long enough to get sunburned,” he says. “I’m impressed.”
“Still time,” you reply. “I hear Hawkins is unforgiving.”
He chuckles, then grows quieter. “Thanks for coming.”
You shrug lightly. “I was curious.”
“About the game?”
You glance back at the field, now empty and calm. “About you.”
He studies you for a moment, the way he always does when something matters. Not intense. Just present. “Well,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I try to keep the chaos limited to diagrams and age-appropriate pamphlets during school hours.”
You laugh, genuine and surprised. “I can’t believe they let you teach that class.”
“Hey,” he says, mock offended. “I’m very professional.” You arch a brow. He smiles, conceding the point.
A comfortable silence settles between you. Not awkward. Just… charged. The kind that lives in shared glances during faculty meetings and in the careful space kept in hallways.
“Anyway,” Steve says, clearing his throat again. “If you ever want to… hang out. Outside of school. Still very appropriate. Very adult.”
“Like coffee?” you offer.
His relief is immediate, though he tries to hide it. “Yeah. Coffee sounds good.”
You nod. “Then I’d like that.”
The sun dips lower as you walk toward the parking lot together, the field behind you quiet now, waiting for tomorrow.
No monsters. No emergencies. Just two teachers at the end of a long day, standing at the beginning of something gentle.
And for the first time in a long while, Hawkins feels like a place where things can grow again.
Heyy. I love the way you write Mark Hoffman so I'd like to request a little something.
college!mark hoffman x afab!reader who's still a virgin and has never been kissed. They're his bestfriend since highschool and he didn't know she's never been with anyone before. He changed that if you know what I mean
You don't have to write this, just a cute request
SUPER CUTE~~~ I love this request!!
College!Mark Hoffman x Virgin!Reader
CW: first time, p in v, unprotected sex (genuinely wrap it up),
a/n: why do I feel butterflies when I see gifs of costas when he was around my age?? sometimes I forget I’m around the age people graduate college at since I dropped out lmao 😵💫I’m gonna be naming random characters in this just to give their friends names, sorry if any of yall know someone personally by these names or if one of them is yours lol
~~~
You slouched over your far too expensive textbook. Looming feeling of your midterms creeping over your shoulders. Not that you had not studied, just the idea of failing sending you into a panic of studying.
Your friends all sat around you. Discussing their recent escapades. Talking about going down to the local bar and picking up hot dates. One girl going on about her long distance boyfriend in the military. Another already planning to propose to his girlfriend. Something you were unfamiliar with. You had always been more concerned with school than relationships. Leading to you still holding on to your virginity.
You felt the small bench you sat on weigh down beside you. Pulling your attention from the book. Mark Hoffman. Your best friend since High School. Both of you had pursued the same degree, going as far as to go to the same college. Deciding to move in together to save on the price of living. Not that there was anything more between you. Simply friends.
Mark greeted you with a bright smile. Arm absentmindedly rested close to your leg as he leaned into you, “Did I miss anything interesting?”
“Not unless Ryan hooking up with some older lady from the bar is interesting to you,” you grinned at him.
“How old?”
You leaned closer to Mark’s ear, “Old enough to be his mom.”
Mark’s eyes widened at you. Smiling as he tried to hide his laughter at the facial expression you made.
You and Mark had been flirty with each other for many years now. Starting when you were teenagers and blossoming throughout your adulthood. Sometimes sharing intimate moments when either of you were having a bad day. Resting your head in his lap after a rather long day. His hand stroking your hair kindly. Mark would flop onto your bed after a grueling late night shift. Curling up beside your body wanting for your hands to massage him. Neither of you willing to acknowledge the swirl of butterflies in your stomach that you would feel in these moments.
“You look good today,” Mark whispered in your ear. You smirked at him meeting his devious grin. Placing his hand on your thigh discreetly under the table. Shivers danced up your skin at his touch. “Don’t start games you don’t wanna play, Hoffman,” you leaned close to his ear, breath trickling down his neck. Trying his best to avoid the thoughts taking over his mind of you.
“What about you Mark?”
Ryan’s voice brought the two of you back into the situation at hand. Both of your cheeks growing in color realizing you had not heard the question asked.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear what you asked.”
“Been hooking up with any hotties lately?”
Something about that question sank a pit into your stomach. Confused by the feelings overcoming you. Not wanting to admit it was jealousy.
“Oh—“ Mark awkwardly laughed, looking at you and how your body language completely changed at the question, “No. Unlike you, Ryan, banging old bags isn’t my top priority.”
Your friends sitting beside Ryan shoved and poked at him, erupting in laughter.
“And we all know Y/N isn’t cranking you, she’s never been with anyone before!” Tasha chimed in. Your cheeks flooded with embarrassment. Gritting your teeth together, eyes like daggers into Tasha’s face. Immediately realizing her mistake. “OH!— I mean— sorry, I didn’t mean—“
“Never?” Mark questioned you quietly.
You hid in your arms on the table. Embarrassment overtaking your body as the boys prodded at you for answers. Angry that something you had drunkenly told Tasha at a sleepover was brought up now. Thinking it was a secret between girls.
“And on that note, I am heading home,” you abruptly stood up. Grabbing your things from the table and loosely shoving them into your book bag.
“Nice going, Tash!”
She shrugged making an awkward face and shaking her head, “I thought everyone knew!”
You rolled your eyes. Saying goodbye to everyone with a swift wave. Hurrying down the hallway out the building. Feeling a familiar hand on your shoulder. Stopping in your tracks when his voice called out to you. “Are you okay?”
“I’m going home,” you coldly said. Too embarrassed to talk to him about what had happened.
“I’ll see you at home then,” Mark flattened his hand against your shoulder, rubbing down your arm slightly.
You left the building. Taking the long walk to your apartment.
…
The lock on the door clicked. Hearing your roommate enter, causing you to sit up and look over the back of the couch. He had a grocery bag in his hand and takeout in the other. Greeting you with a semi-awkward smile as he held up the bags. Sitting them on the counter next to the door. You laid back onto the couch, covering your face with a pillow. Dying to crawl into a hole and disappear.
“I got your favorite,” he called out to you, pouring himself a cup of water. You groaned into the pillow not really acknowledging what he said. Mark walked over to you, leaning over the backside of the couch. “Oh, c’mon,” he pulled the pillow from your fingers revealing your flushed face, “It’s not that serious. I’m your best friend.”
You locked eyes with him. Pouting.
“Sit up and I’ll bring the food in here,” Mark smiled widely at you.
You grunted with a sigh. “Did you get the sauce?”
“Of course I did.”
You and Mark sat together on the couch enjoying your favorite takeout. A movie on the TV that neither of you really paid attention to. Talking about midterms. Mark catching you up on the rest of the gossip that was shared after you left. Your legs rested in his lap. One of his hands rubbed up and down your legs.
“So,” Mark started, “Why didn’t you want me to know about you… Y’know, never hooking up with anyone before?”
“Oh God, Mark,” you leaned your head back against the couch awkwardly stretching your neck as your eyes squinted shut. Begging for him not to ask.
“I haven’t seen you get that embarrassed since we were teenagers,” Mark laughed. You sat up beside him, scooting yourself closer practically in his lap now.
“I guess it’s just… I don’t know— you and I, we flirt all the time. I didn’t want you to start treating me like I’m naive just because I’m a virgin. I like you, Mark— I mean—“
Mark’s mouth formed a smirk. Cockiness painting his figure as his hand roamed higher up your thigh, snaking around and under you. Pulling you even closer to him, your bodies pressed together. “Like me how?” His tone darkened as he teased you. You awkwardly stammered unable to form words.
“Like me, like this?” Finishing his sentence with his lips kissing your neck. Your jaw hung open as his plump lips kissed your burning skin. Your hands instinctively sprawling against his chest.
“Mark, I—“
“I’m in love with you,” Mark admitted against your throat. That sunk into your stomach. Swirling around with the arousal he put there. Desperate hands held your body close to his. Kissing gently up to your jawline. Deep blue eyes meeting yours.
Lips crashed together. Your hands cupped both sides of his face as he readjusted to be even closer to you. Tongues prying into each other’s mouths. Soft smiles between kisses as his hands roamed your body. Large hands led you onto his lap, legs straddling him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Romance filled eyes examined your body, unable to wipe the wide grin off his face. His hands rested on your sides, adoring you. His growing erection pressed against your clothed core. Lips pressing back together as your hands cupped his face. Fingers sprawled against his jawline and cheeks, feeling the heat that had rose to his face.
“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you softly admitted between kisses. Cheeks filling with embarrassment. You really had no experience with anything.
Mark smiled as he continued locking lips with you, “Let me be your first everything.”
Passionate desperation overtook him. No one had ever consumed him like you did. Even when he had gotten drunk at a party and hooked up with some girl from another college your freshman year, she was never you. Regretting you not being his one and only. Hating that he had given himself away to someone else when you were there as soon as he got home. Your bright smile greeting him. You were his everything.
Mark shuffled the two of you, leaning your back against the couch. Gentle fingers pulled at your button and zipper. Eyeing you to make sure everything was okay.
“If this is too soon—“
“No—! No… I’m just a little nervous. Excited too,” your shaky voice reassured him. Mark shimmied your pants and panties down your legs. Fixated on your wet opening. The outline of his cock was growing more prominent in his pants. Catching your attention causing your mouth to water. You wanted him more than ever. Needing him to fill the need you had.
Mark leaned down, planting his lips upon yours again. Tongue parting your lips. Hands removing his own pants and boxers, throwing them onto the floor with yours. Shirt shortly joining them. Throbbing cock prodded at your entrance. A soft moan fell from you when his member touched your folds. Mark chuckled softly at your response. “Do you want me to get a condom?”
Your brow raised, “Do you just have them on standby?”
Mark cocked an eyebrow at you, “I picked some up at the store. Was gonna give them to you.”
You laughed, “Knew you were gonna get lucky tonight, Hoffman?”
“I sure was hoping,” he smiled. Both of you sharing in your laughter. Kissing in between giggles of a new relationship. Taking a huge step into new territory for both of you. Dancing around each other for years. Finally coming to a new move.
“I’m on the pill,” you whispered to him. Chills ran down his spine at the idea. His hands ran up your body, hooking under your shirt and guiding it off you. Plump lips ghosted down to your breasts. Sucking against the exposed part above your bra, his hand groping the other. You moaned for him. Reaching around your back to remove the clasp. Fumbling with excited hands. Chuckling into your skin when his hands would not cooperate with him. Finally feeling the garment loosen. Pulling the straps down your arms and leaving you fully nude.
You blushed up at him. Feeling fully exposed for the first time. Vulnerable in this state. Wanting to run away and hide. But when his lips fell onto you, all your fears washed away. He was being gentle with the nipple he took between lips. Softly rolling the other in his fingers. Making sure to take his time to get you turned on.
“I’ll be easy,” Mark’s deep tone promised. Cock in hand as he dipped just the head in. Gauging your reaction. Your eyes squinted shut as you moaned for him. Mark took his time, slowly entering you until your hips were pressed together. “Fuck, Y/N,” Mark huffed.
Your eyebrows were furrowed together as he held still inside you. Blue eyes scanning your face. Darting around to make sure you were not in any sort of pain. Noting your silence as facial expression.
“Hey,” he whispered, getting your attention, “I want to make this perfect for you. Tell me what you want me to do, baby.” Tender tone as one of his hands caressed your face. Thumb rubbing circles on your cheek.
“M-move…” you softly spit out. Words almost leaving your brain entirely. Overwhelmed with the feeling of him inside you. Body begging for some kind of stimulation. Mark smiled above you, eager to please. Rolling his hips slowly testing out a rhythm he thought would work. It was like heaven. Every single inch of him stretched and filled you perfectly. Squeaking with each movement as your body finally attempted to relax.
Mark had you in pure bliss. Fucking you at the perfect pace to have you craving more. You wanted to hear skin smacking together. Wanted to see his body covered in sweat. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “Faster— Mark, please!” You moaned into him. Your wanting of more had Mark turned on even more. Quickening his hips to snap upward.
Finally hearing the sound you had craved. Sloppy noises where the two of you connected. Curve of his cock reaching a place inside you that had never been touched. Mouthing words that you could not form. Face contorting and flushed.
“Goddammit,” Mark huffed, “You’re so fucking tight.” His finger found its place on your clit. Rubbing small circles into the tender bulb. Causing you to arch your back into him, a whine escaping you. Moaning out at the electricity shooting through your nerves. Swearing you would finish any moment now. Mark placed open mouthed kisses against yours, breathing heavily as he continued inside.
"M-Mark, I'm gonna— fuck" you whined trying to form a cohesive sentence before being taken over by moans. Nails digging into his bare back. Surely leaving puffed up claw marks along the tender skin.
"I want it. Come on, sweetheart," Mark breathed out, eyes meeting yours. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Wet lashes fluttered up at him. Cheeks flushed and sweat beaming along your brow. Mouth hanging open as your face scrunched in pleasure. Finally succumbing to your orgasm. Calling out his name over and over like a prayer. Holding him as close to you as you could get him. Walls convulsing around his cock. Coaxing him further inside you. Kiss swollen lips praising you as he savored the feeling of you being wrapped around him.
Mark's lips trailed down to the base of your ear, allowing you to come slightly down from your high. "Gonna let me be the first one to fill this pussy up?" he breathlessly asked. Slowly pulling his hips back and rolling them back into yours. Frantically, you nodded your head barely able to give him a low 'yes'.
Mark straightened his back, hiking your legs over his shoulders. Giving him the perfect angle to fuck up into you. Causing your already sensitive walls to spasm once more. Only taking a few more thrusts and moans to have him coating your walls. Shooting white hot inside you. Your name a thoughtless promise on his lips.
You both stayed in your position for a moment. Chests heaving and eyes squinted shut. Bathing in the afterglow. Swearing you would never experience something so pleasurable again. Finally relaxing your body and allowing every inch of you to shake. Trembling from how overwhelmed you were.
Mark leaned down and placed a tender kiss to your lips. "So pretty," he complimented before slowly pulling out of you. Causing your brows to knit together at the loss of warmth. Feeling him spill out of you. Mark scooped it up with one of his fingers, gently pushing it back inside you. Causing a ghastly moan to escape you.
"I'm gonna grab a towel to clean you up with," he stepped off the couch. Leaving you to catch your breath. Every inch of your body hot and energized. Heart pounding in your ears only drowned out by his footsteps back to you. Kneeling at the side of the couch and gently dabbing up the mess from the couch. Smiling as he leaned up to kiss you once again. He could never get enough of the feeling of your lips on his. Holding your hand loosely as he rested his head on your stomach and partially the couch. Your free hand absentmindedly played with his messy locks. You swore Mark had never looked so lovesick before.
"Wanna go get comfortable?" he gestured towards the hallway that led to your bedrooms.
You nodded. Hesitantly sitting up, body still overstimulated and tired. He laced his fingers through yours, walking as slowly as you liked to his bedroom. Kissing you in the doorway before helping you get into bed. Feeling yourself beginning to doze off as soon as your head hit the pillow.
"I love you, Mark," you smiled, half asleep.
He kissed you sweetly, "I love you, sweetheart."
~~~
[END]
// Thank you so much for reading! This fic has been in my drafts 80% finished for MONTHS and I finally got around to finishing it. It's almost strange to write Mark happy lol. Reblogs and Comments are appreciated!! //
Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Logan Howlett x Reader, Hanahaki Disease, Angst, Body Horror (descriptions of internal injuries, physical suffering, mentions of blood), Major Character Death, Hurt /No comfort, No Happy ending
Word Count: 1.1K
Summary: Stricken by Hanahaki disease, you endure the agonizing bloom of petals in your lungs, torn between hope and despair as Logan unknowingly becomes the source of your slow death.
Author's Note: Hi my loves! It’s been a few months since I’ve posted anything on my blog and honestly with everything going on in the world…I have needed an escape. Also this is my first time writing about Hanahaki so I hope I am able to deliver... lol
As always comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3
(Marvel Masterlist)
The first petal came while the mansion slept. It was small and delicate, a pale pink thing crumpled between your lips as you jolted awake, choking. The metallic tang of blood was faint but unmistakable, and you stumbled to the bathroom, panic bubbling in your chest. You stood under the fluorescent lights, trembling, staring at the petal in your hand.
It couldn’t be real. But it was.
The next morning, you tucked the petal into a tissue and shoved it deep into your pocket, forcing yourself to smile through breakfast. Logan was there, of course, leaning against the counter with his usual gruff demeanor, grunting responses to Scott’s sarcastic remarks. His dark eyes flicked to you, giving you that half-smirk that had been your undoing since the day you met.
“Mornin',” he said, his voice gravelly.
“Morning,” you replied, your voice betraying none of the chaos inside you. You quickly looked away, your heart racing, feeling the sharp sting of unrequited affection digging deeper into your chest. The disease was already taking root.
The petals came more frequently as the weeks passed. You’d excuse yourself from meals, from training sessions, from late-night conversations, all to cough up those cursed blossoms in private. Each petal was a tangible reminder of what you could never have. Your love for Logan was killing you—literally.
It wasn’t just the petals, either. They began to claw their way up from your lungs, tearing at the tender lining of your throat. You felt the scratches long after each episode, raw and burning, a cruel reminder of what lay inside you. Sometimes you caught glimpses of stems, jagged and thorny, trailing out with the petals. Your hands trembled as you tried to clean up the mess, staring at the streaks of crimson mingling with the delicate pink of the blooms. It was horrifyingly beautiful—a grotesque contradiction that left you sobbing on the bathroom floor.
You tried to suppress it, to smother your feelings beneath layers of forced indifference. But the disease thrived on hope, and you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping. Every shared glance, every accidental touch, every gruff word of encouragement from Logan made your heart race and your condition worsen.
The first full bloom came after a mission. Logan had saved your life, his strong arms pulling you from the wreckage of a burning building. You’d coughed violently in his embrace, blood spotting your lips, but you managed to hide it before he noticed. Later that night, alone in your room, you hacked up a handful of petals, crimson-tinged and velvety soft. But these were not just petals anymore. Nestled among them were small, sharp thorns, jagged and coated in blood. They cut the inside of your mouth as they came, leaving your throat aching and raw. You stared at the mess in the sink, bile rising in your stomach.
Your tears soaked the petals as you sat on the bathroom floor, clutching your sides, which ached from the relentless coughing. You knew what this meant. You’d read about Hanahaki disease in dusty, forbidden texts in Charles's library. Unrequited love that festered into flowers, choking the life out of its victim unless the love was returned—or surgically removed, at the cost of those feelings and the memories tied to them.
You couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting him.
The final blow came one evening in the mansion’s rec room. Jean was there, sitting close to Logan on the couch. Too close. Her laugh was soft and melodic, and Logan’s rare smile stretched across his face as he responded to something she’d said. The sight made the petals rise in your throat, sharp and unforgiving. You felt the thorns digging into your lungs as you stumbled from the room, each breath a struggle. You clutched your chest and fled, ignoring Storm’s concerned call after you.
Back in your room, you collapsed onto your knees, your body wracked with violent coughs. The petals came in a torrent now, soaked in blood, tearing their way out of you. Larger blooms mixed with shards of stems and thorns spilled from your lips, the pain blinding. You felt them tear through the soft tissue of your throat, leaving jagged cuts in their wake. Your chest burned with every cough, the petals relentless in their assault. The metallic scent of blood was suffocating, mingling with the cloying sweetness of the flowers. Your vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges of your sight. When it finally stopped, you slumped against the wall, too weak to move.
Logan found you two days later. You hadn’t left your room, and when he kicked the door open, the sight froze him in his tracks. You were pale, your skin clammy, the bed and floor around you littered with withered petals and dried blood. Some of the petals had started to rot, their edges blackened, the sickly-sweet smell making your stomach churn. Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice calling your name, raw with worry and anger.
“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded, kneeling beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure where to start.
You tried to speak, but your voice was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, Logan.”
“Sorry? For what?” His brows furrowed as he looked around the room, piecing together the horrific puzzle. “Is this… You’ve been coughing this up?”
You nodded weakly, tears sliding down your cheeks. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“The hell it doesn’t!” he growled. “We’re getting you help. Now.”
You shook your head, your hand reaching out to grip his arm. Your fingers barely had the strength to close around his wrist. “It’s too late.”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes—fear, maybe even regret. But you knew better. Logan cared, but not the way you needed him to. Not the way that would save you.
“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice softer now.
“I… I loved you, Logan,” you confessed, your voice breaking. “I just wanted to tell you before…” Your sentence trailed off as your strength faded.
“No, no, stay with me,” he said, cradling you against his chest. You felt the roughness of his jacket against your cheek, the warmth of his body. It was the closest you’d ever been to him, and it was enough.
Your breathing slowed, your hand slipping from his arm. The last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was his face, twisted in anguish.
When the others found you, Logan was still holding you, his shirt stained with blood and petals. He didn’t say a word as they led him away, his expression blank, his eyes hollow.
The mansion was quiet in the days that followed. Logan was quieter still, spending his nights on the porch, a cigarette between his fingers, staring out into the distance. The others gave him space, knowing better than to ask questions.
In his pocket, he kept a single petal, pale pink and fragile. It was all he had left of you.
Hi! Can i ask for a billy loomis x reader where she gets a tattoo of his name either in the side of her breast or in her hip and she shows him and they fuck (if you decide to put the tattoo in her ass he would def drill into reader doggystyle 💀)
This was incredibly fun to write. Thanks for your request anon 💋
"That's ridiculous Stu!" - "A dare is a dare Tatum, she has to do it!" Stu countered while laughing. The couple, Randy and you decided it was a great idea to play truth or dare while drunk. Sidney and Billy had to leave early and the four of you got bored. Stu was obviously the one who suggested the game.
"I mean, he does have a point." Randy said and Tatum gasped in disbelief; "Wh- Are you seriously siding with Stu on this?! YN! Are you even okay with this?" Tatum asked and you sighed, closing your eyes in defeat. "Look, I appreciate your concern Tate, but I mean... I already have tattoos, another small one isn't going to hur-" - "This is Billy's name we're talking about here, YN. What if Sidney sees it? Or even worse, what if Billy sees it? These two idiots aren't going to keep their mouths shut." The girl has a point, but you honestly didn't care. It could easily get covered up with something else in the future.
"You're right on that one." You said and glared at Randy and Stu before continuing; "But I can get it covered up once it heals, plus it's going to be hidden-" - "What about when we go to the lake next weekend, hm? It wont be hidden there, your hip is going to be exposed." Tatum interrupted.
You didn't know why she was so concerned. Maybe it was because of the whole "tattoos are permanent" or "don't get anyone's name tattooed" mentality.
You smiled at Tatum softly and placed your hand on hers reassuringly; "I'll be fine, okay? We're all friends and it's not going to be an issue. It'll just be for some laughs and then I'll get it covered up, okay?"
Tatum sighed, visibly calming down and glaring at Stu and Randy; "You guys are paying for the cover up too." - "What?! That's not part of the dare!" Randy complained and Tatum rolled her eyes; "It is now, dumb ass." - "That's enough guuyyss, who's up next?!" Stu finished the argument.
•
As promised, you went to the local tattoo shop and got "Billy Loomis" tattooed on your right hip.
"Hooh, that looks hot not gonna lie." Stu said while sticking his tongue out. Tatum rolled her eyes playfully and blew a bubble with her chewing gum; "I gotta say, it is a hot placement."
You smirked at your friends and stood up straight so the tattoo artist could put protective film over the ink.
"If Sidney wasn't with Billy he'd 100% be into this." Randy said and you gasped, smirking at him; "Randy shut up! Oh my God..." - 'Who said he wouldn't like it now?" Stu said and smirked at you. You bit your lip in response and rolled you eyes playfully. You knew they were just teasing and joking around, but having your crush's name tattooed on you was a total turn on, and you felt like a little slut with your dirty little secret.
•
When you arrived at your house that night, you couldn't stop staring at his name engraved with ink on your skin.
You modeled in front of the mirror with the bikini you were planning to wear next weekend and imagined how Billy would react to you looking as hot as you did with his name on you. You wondered if he'd actually like it, like Randy and Stu said. If he'd get turned on by it. Hell, if he'd fuck you because of it. Your imagination ran wild with all the possibilities.
Billy had always been low-key flirty with you, and you had to admit that it confused you considering that he has a girlfriend, but you figured that he's comfortable being around you and maybe follows your lead just for fun. I mean, friends casually flirt sometimes jokingly so you guessed it was normal between you guys.
•
It was finally the end of the week and you were leaving to the cabin that Stu's parents own. There's apparently a huge lake that's perfect for the hot summer sun.
Your bag was made and you were once again admiring Billy's name on your skin. The tattoo was small enough to peel and heal just enough to get in the water during the week.
You were putting sun block on your skin and the tattoo looked vivid with the moisture of the cream. You couldn't wait for Billy to see it.
Stu pulled up to your driveway and honked the horn of his parents van. You jumped in excitement and ran down the stairs, bag in hand. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you opened the door and walked towards the car.
Everyone was already seated and there was a space reserved for you at the very back with Randy.
"You ready to show Billy your new tatt- Ow!" you hit Randy on his bicep and Billy looked back from his seat. "Show me what?" He asked, confusion written all over his face.
Stu let out a breathy laugh and Tatum thumped him. Billy looked at the couple suspiciously and bit his inner cheek in annoyance. Luckily he didn't question you again, but he definitely knew something was going on with how obvious everyone was being.
•
After a three hour drive, you guys finally arrived at Stu's cabin and settled in before heading outside and picking a spot to set up a picnic in front of the lake.
The sun was shining bright and the water looked a nice teal color. It was still and quiet.
You could hear the birds and the wind swishing the trees. You helped Tatum and Sidney set up everything before sitting down on the blanket to bathe under the sun.
Taking your short flowy black sun dress off, you revealed your indigo blue bikini. It hugged your body perfectly and exposed just the right amount of skin and curves.
You sat down on the picnic blanket next to the girls and made eye contact with Billy who was taking his shirt off next to you. He raked his eyes up and down your body before giving you a subtle smirk. You bit your lip and looked away only to find Stu giving you a knowing look followed by a breathy laugh. You flipped him off and he shrugged, laughing before running into the water with Randy like a maniac.
Tatum gave you a knowing look as well and you nodded at her before looking at Sidney. "Hey uh, Sid..." You started; "I have something to show you, but I'm giving you context first because it's a little weird."
Sidney looked at you, a subtle smile on her face mixed with confusion; "Yes?" - "Last week when you and Billy left Stu's house early, the rest of us playd truth or dare an-" - "Oh my God, did you kiss Randy?" She asked jokingly and you placed your hand over your mouth to suppress a loud laugh; "What?! No! No... Ugh okay, I got dared by Stu to get Billy's name tattooed on my hip and I did it." You finished quickly and showed the girl your new ink.
Sidney gasped and laughed at the sight. "Oh my Gosh, you're crazy!" - "You see Tatum?! I told you she wouldn't get mad." You said, rolling your eyes at the blonde and she gasped; "Hey! I'm just trynna look out for my girlies, God."
All three of you laughed and looked ahead at the lake. "I wonder what Billy will say." Sidney wondered and you looked at her; "Do you think he'll get mad or something?" - "Nah, I don't think so. Well, maybe at Stu for being an ass and making you do it." Sid replied and you nodded in response, sudden nervousness taking over.
•
After a while, you and the girls decided to get in the water and enjoy the cool temperature after sun bathing.
You approached the shore and Stu swam towards you like a shark waiting to attack.
Before you could dip your whole body in, Stu gasped dramatically. "Oh myyy, YN? Is that a new tattoo?"
You looked at him in disbelief and thumped him; "Shut up, Stu" - "Damn would you look at that! It is a new tattoo" Randy said and looked at Billy. Subtlety wasn't part of both your friends at that moment.
Billy glared at both of them and then stared at you and the girls.
"What the hell is going on with you guys? You've been acting weird since we picked up YN." - "Ugh, Stu dared me to get your name tattooed on my hip and I did, okay?" You answered quickly, annoyance written on your face.
Billy raised an eyebrow and smirked, followed by a laugh. "You actually did it?" He asked while walking towards you.
Stu was trying to hold his laughter in but could barely do it. Tatum smacked his bicep and glared at him. "Don't be an ass." She whispered, the situation clearly being awkward for you.
Billy crouched down in front of you and you showed him the ink, trying to maintain distance, but he was making it impossible.
Billy ran his thumb over the tattoo and let out a breathy laugh. "You're insane." he said and looked up at you. He was amused and his touch made goosbumps arise on your body. It didn't go unnoticed by him and he smirked.
The boy stood up and towered over you, looking straight into your eyes. You blushed at his close proximity. "I like it, it looks hot on you," he said, loud enough for only you to hear before swimming away.
The rest of the group joined him and started playing with water guns and other toys, however you stood in the same spot a few seconds longer, but Randy snapped you out of your daze.
"You coming?" He asked, and you swam towards him. "Didn't know you have a little crush on Billy boy." he said, and you looked at him, faking confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about." - "Oh c'mon, you were tense as a rock." - "Shut up Randy. Even if I did, he's dating Sidney so I'd have to get over it." You countered and he lifted his hands in defeat. "Chill, I'm just messing with you." He laughed softly before swimming along with you.
•
After being in the lake nearly all day you decided to take a shower before joining the group. Little did you know, Billy was also in the cabin waiting to get you alone.
Walking into the bathroom, as you were closing the door something stopped it from moving. You opened it to check what was blocking it and saw it was Billy.
You gasped in surprise and looked up at him. "You can use it first, I can wait a few more minutes to shower." You said and Billy walked a bit closer to you. "Mm no, you go ahead. I don't mind waiting here." He said and stepped in with you, locking the door behind him.
"What um... Are you doi-" - Before you could finish your sentence, Billy pushed you against the wall and kissed you. You yelped against his lips but returned the kiss without thinking about it a few seconds later.
Billy pulled back and looked away, biting his lower lip. "Fuck... Sorry, I've been wanting to do that all day... For so long, at this point." He whispered.
You were at a loss of words and in disbelief. He actually wanted to kiss you? Wanted to feel your soft lips against his?
"Billy I... Why? You're with Sidn-" - "Fuck Sidney... God, that tattoo... My name on your skin? I wanted to fuck you right then and there when you showed me." He admitted, running his hand over your hip.
You couldn't believe what was happening. Billy Loomis wants you just as much as you want him. All this time you could've had him.
The feeling of want consumed your body. You didn't care about Sidney. Selfishness took over you and God did the thrill feel good.
You didn't waste anymore time and kissed him again, quickly reaching for his hair and pulling at the strands.
He moaned as quietly as he could and pulled you against him by your hips.
Billy squeezed the flesh and moved his hands up your back, untying your bikini straps followed by the ones over your neck.
The piece of fabric fell on the floor and he grabbed your tits in his large hands, squeezing them softly while pinching and playing with your nipples. The little moans you released made his cock twitch, it begging to be set free.
"Fuck... You're so hot." Billy whispered while snaking one hand down your body and untying your bikini bottoms.
He ran two fingers between your folds and felt the wetness coat them. He brought his hand up to his mouth and tasted you, moaning as a response.
"You taste so fucking good." He said and you whined at the sight. Billy gestured to the shower with his head and looked into your eyes; "Let's get in there."
You widened your eyes in surprise and bit your bottom lip; "Are you crazy?" - "Maybe, I mean... You wanted to take a shower, right?" He replied, smirking.
•
In the shower, the water ran hot over you. Billy had you against one of the cold walls, your tits pressing against his chest while he finger fucked you and rubbed your clit with his thumb.
"Fuck... Fuck, Billy please." You begged him to move his hand faster, but he was torturing you with his slow movements.
You squeezed his fingers with your cunt and it only made his cock harder against you.
"You feel so good around my fingers baby." He whispered in your ear and your breathing picked up. You were trying to be quiet but fuck he was making you feel so good that you wanted to scream.
You grabbed his cock and started to stroke it just as slow as he was fucking you with his fingers. He cursed under his breath and kissed you impossibly slow. You guys were driving each other crazy, and Billy didn't want to wait any longer to fuck that sweet cunt of yours.
Pulling his fingers out of you, the emptiness made you moan quietly against his shoulder.
Billy moved you towards the see through panel of the shower and pressed you facing forward. Your tits were squished against the glass and you could see the reflection in the mirror above the sink. You looked impossibly hot, and when you felt Billy lift one of your legs to the side, slipping inside your sopping cunt? It was over.
You let out a moan that was too loud for your liking and Billy covered your mouth with one of his hands while the other held your hip to keep you pressed against the glass.
He snapped his hips against your ass and filled you up deliciously with his cock.
You craned your head to the side and grabbed a fist full of his hair, pulling his head towards you and kissing him.
You breathed heavily into each other's mouths as Billy pounded into you.
Thanks to him working you up with his fingers you were incredibly sensitive, so when he reached between your legs and rubbed your clit in circles it was over for you.
You moaned against his palm and came around his cock, squirting in the process. Billy looked down between your bodies and the sight of his cock pumping inside of you while you squeezed your walls around him was enough for him to reach his own high.
Billy pulled out and jerked himself, cumming over your ass.
The water slowly washed everything off your body and you turned around to face him.
"This will be our little secret, hm?" Billy whispered and you bit your lower lip, nodding in response before initiating another make out session.
Sometimes you leave the window open at night in hopes of him sneaking in and fucking you in your sleep. Billy Loomis. He had done it a few times before and you loved every second of it.
The last few times you've been with him you have hinted multiple times that it would be fun if Stu joined him one night and got their way with you while you slept, and tonight was the night.
"Be quiet, will you?," Billy whispered at Stu while climbing up the side of your house towards your window. The taller boy knocked down a potted plant and made unwanted noise, but lucky for them you were sound asleep.
"I'm sorry! Gosh, just hurry up will you?," Stu replied. He hadn't done anything like this before and he was already half hard thinking about all the possibilities.
Once inside, they were greeted by your sleeping figure. You had one of Billy's t-shirts on that he left in your room the last time he snuck in and got his way with you.
Stu scoffed and pointed at your attire; "Not fair, how long have you guys been fucking without me?," the boy said and Billy rolled his eyes in annoyance; "Shut up, Stu. Look," he pointed at you, half of your ass was exposed and you had no underwear on.
Billy and Stu looked at each other, smirking at each other before admiring you once more.
You were so tempting and looked so good while sleeping. Legs slightly parted and perfectly positioned for them to play with your pussy. For you to get fucked and used. Gosh, they couldn't wait to hear your little moans as you woke up from the feel of their hands all over your perfect body.
Billy walked towards you slowly and ran his hand from your ankle all the way up your inner thigh. You got chills and shifted slightly. Billy smirked at your reaction and looked at Stu, signaling him to come over and get a feel of you.
The blond walked towards you and stood next to the other side of the bed. He kneeled down and ran his large hand over your inner thigh, squeezing your ass cheek at the end.
You shifted once again and Billy chuckled quietly. You had the cutest reactions and he couldn't get enough of them.
They both started to rub your inner thighs and occasionally rub your clit softly, taking turns to tease you and get you wet.
You started to moan softly, your body waking up slowly.
Billy dipped two fingers inside your cunt and thrust them slowly, collecting your slick and using it to play with your clit once more. Stu followed his friends actions right after as Billy made his way up to play with your tits over your shirt. His shirt. He squeezed your mounds while pinching your hard buds softly, sending jolts of pleasure all over your body.
Your breathing started to pick up as you felt Stu finger fucking you slowly while Billy played with your perfect tits.
Billy kicked his boots off and laid down, moving you carefully so you faced him. Stu followed behind you, doing the same thing.
The boy in front took his hard cock out of his jeans and slid if between your thighs, fucking himself between them.
You started to wake up to the feel of his shaft rubbing your wet cunt.
Stu kept you steady, his hands on your waist while squeezing your flesh.
You were nearly half awake and held onto Billy's arm as you felt him fuck himself raw between your legs.
"Oh, look who's up, Stu." Billy said, his voice deep in your ear. You didn't quite process what he said but you were aware that someone else was behind you also fucking themselves between your thighs, right above Billy's cock.
"You mind if I..." Billy cut off his sentence as he spread your legs open, wrapping one of them around his waist before sliding his cock all the way inside your soaking cunt; "...if I get myself off real quick?," he finished his sentence and thrust slowly, filling you up deliciously.
You moaned in his ear and he chuckled in satisfaction.
"Fuck, you guys are so hot," Stu said before sliding his cock inside the same hole Billy was fucking.
You moaned louder and Billy quickly covered your mouth with his hand; "Don't wanna get caught, do we?," he said and you whined against his palm.
They picked up the speed and thrust in unison, cocks rubbing against each other eliciting more pleasure for the boys.
The way your cunt clenched around them was providing so much pleasure that neither of you were going to last much longer.
"Please, please please, fuck me please," you were begging, talking nonsense. Cock drunk and desperate for an orgasm.
After a few more thrusts that's exactly what you got. You squirted all over the bed and squeezed their cocks so much that they came at the same time, filling you up with their cum until it leaked out of your cunt.
You were all panting and exhausted.
Slowly, you turned around and faced Stu. He smiled wide and chuckled before; "Hey 🤪"
•
I had to use an emoji to describe Stu's face. It was the only way to do it lmao 😭🫸🏼
Could you write something for Bruce Wayne × Reader along the lines of "I like strawberries" *the next day the kitchen is filled with strawberries*.
Like Bruce just randomly drops you gifts no note, no sign, he doesn't even give them directly to you
Title: A Berry Sweet Surprise
Tags: Fluff, Bruce Wayne (slight ooc?), Female Reader, established relationships, Love languages
Summary: Bruce always manages to express his love in quiet, unexpected ways, showing that sometimes the grandest gestures are the ones whispered in the smallest details.
Word Count: 811 words
A/N: Alright I’ve been loving fluff lately...and I think this was such a cute idea Anon🥰 I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it.
The Manor as unusually quiet, the kind of peacefulness that seemed rare in a place that held so much history and chaos within its walls. Bruce and you found yourselves in the kitchen, enjoying the silence, sharing a soft moment amid a busy life. Alfred had recently brought a basket of fresh strawberries, their deep red hues and juicy scent filling the air.
After popping one in your mouth, you sighed, almost blissfully. “Gosh, I just love strawberries.”
Bruce looked over at you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll make a note of that.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you replied, still savoring the sweet burst of flavor on your tongue. “They’re just… perfect, you know?”
Bruce merely hummed in agreement, his eyes lingering on you a little longer, as if to tuck the information away. It was the kind of quiet, thoughtful moment that didn’t need words — just understanding.
The next morning, you wandered downstairs, barely awake but ready for the comfort of a strong cup of coffee. The familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the kitchen, courtesy of Alfred, who knew you and Bruce far too well by now.
But as you stepped into the kitchen, you stopped, your sleepy eyes snapping wide open. The counter wasn’t just home to your usual morning coffee. Instead, it was overflowing with… fruit. Not just any fruit, either — bouquets upon bouquets, bursting with fresh, plump strawberries. Strawberries in every shade of crimson, gleaming under the kitchen lights like clusters of rubies. They were arranged in decorative baskets, in artfully crafted bouquets, and mixed with other fruits like pineapple stars and melon blossoms, but overwhelmingly, gloriously… strawberries.
Your jaw dropped as you took in the sight. There wasn’t a note, no card explaining this small marvel of fruit, but you didn’t need one. A small laugh bubbled out of you, and you shook your head, pressing a hand to your mouth in delight.
Only one person would remember something so specific, so simple, and take it to heart like this.
“Oh, my,” came Alfred’s voice, his ever-present calm layered with a touch of amused surprise as he entered the kitchen. “I daresay he may have gotten a bit carried away this time.”
You chuckled, glancing at Alfred, who had already set a plate and coffee cup for you. “I love it,” you replied, already reaching for one of the strawberries. “And you know, sometimes I wonder if he’s trying to make you look bad with these grand gestures,” you teased.
Alfred, ever the gentleman, offered a modest smile. “As long as it brings a smile to your face, I won’t be taking offense.”
You took a seat, selecting one of the strawberries from the nearest bouquet, savoring its sweetness with a fond look. The taste seemed even sweeter, knowing exactly whose idea this was and how well he’d listened. It was the kind of thoughtfulness that felt more intimate than anything grand.
As if on cue, your phone vibrated, and you glanced down to see a message from Bruce.
“Did you get my gift?”
“I did. More than enough strawberries to last me a lifetime, you know.”
“Is that a complaint?”
You laughed softly, texting back, “Not at all. Thank you, Bruce. Really. I love it.”
There was a slight pause before he responded, almost as though he were carefully crafting his reply. “I’m glad. I like finding ways to spoil you.”
You grinned at the message, feeling your heart swell. For all the sternness and stoicism Bruce often wore like armor, this was a glimpse of the man beneath, thoughtful and deeply caring in his own way.
“You’re the sweetest.”
You could almost picture his smirk when he replied, “Don’t tell anyone.”
Alfred cleared his throat, pretending not to notice the faint blush that had crept onto your cheeks. “Would you like me to set aside a selection of these strawberries for later, or should I prepare them all now?”
With a warm laugh, you glanced over at the mountain of strawberries, feeling happier than you’d expected over something so simple. “Let’s save a few. I think Bruce deserves some of these later too.”
Alfred smiled knowingly. “Very well, miss. I’ll prepare the finest of the bunch.”
You nodded, popping another strawberry into your mouth as you thought about Bruce’s little surprise. It wasn’t grand or extravagant, but in its simplicity, it was perfect. It was the way he showed you love — quiet, thoughtful, never asking for anything in return. And that, you knew, was worth more than anything money could buy.
As you finished your breakfast, you found yourself already anticipating the next time you’d see him, wondering how to show him your own love in return — perhaps in ways just as subtle, just as sweet.
Tags: Fluff, Bruce Wayne x Wife Reader, Batkids, Batfamily goodness
WC: 910 words
Summary: Surrounded by laughter and love, you cherish this fleeting moment of peace, knowing your family is finally home—even if just for tonight.
A/N: Hello! It's been a few weeks since I've last posted. I was feeling very burnt out with writing and didn't feel like I was providing the quality you all deserve. School and life also really started to pick up for me.... Buttttt I hope that this little fluffy one shot makes up for my absence!
| Masterlist |
The halls of Wayne Manor were bustling in a way that hadn’t happened in ages. The grand old house seemed to come alive with the unmistakable hum of voices, footsteps, and laughter—yes, even laughter. The rare symphony of the entire Wayne family being home at once.
You paused at the top of the grand staircase, gazing down as everyone settled in, a soft smile gracing your lips. Bruce came up behind you, placing a warm hand on your back, and for a moment, the two of you watched in contented silence.
“They’re all here,” you murmured, a soft warmth filling your chest. It didn’t happen often, not with the unique and sometimes complicated lives they each led. But tonight? Tonight, they were all home.
“Feels like the old days, doesn’t it?” Bruce whispered back, his deep voice low and gentle in your ear.
“Better,” you replied, eyes still taking in the sight below. Dick was laughing, arm around Tim’s shoulder as he animatedly recounted a story. Jason was by the window, looking like he might want to bolt but staying all the same, an amused smirk as he watched his brothers. Damian, his usual stoic self, pretended not to care but stuck close to you, his hand brushing yours as he leaned on the banister. Even Alfred was here, his dignified smile softened by the rare moment of togetherness.
“I just can’t believe they’re all here. All of them under one roof again.” You leaned into Bruce, letting yourself feel the happiness that filled your heart as you saw each of your boys together.
Downstairs, Dick was the first to catch sight of you both, his grin brightening as he waved you over. “Hey! Are you guys just gonna stand there all night, or are you going to come down and join us?”
Bruce smirked, giving you a look. “Duty calls.”
Hand in hand, the two of you descended the stairs, and as soon as you hit the landing, Dick pulled you both into a bear hug, one arm slung over each of you. "Glad you two decided to grace us with your presence,” he teased.
“Oh, we wouldn't miss this for the world,” you replied, hugging him back tightly. "I’m so glad you’re all here. It feels like…home.”
Jason scoffed from his spot by the window. “Getting sentimental already, huh?” But the hint of a smile softened his usual bravado.
You walked over, gently taking his hand. “If I didn’t know better, Jason, I’d say you missed us.”
He rolled his eyes, but the way he squeezed your hand back let you know he felt it, too. “Don’t push your luck…Ma.”
Your heart skipped, warmth spreading as you smiled at him. “Noted, Jason.”
The evening passed in a blur of laughter, memories, and everyone catching up on life. Tim and Damian found themselves in a surprising truce as they argued over strategy in one of their favorite board games. Dick made a dramatic performance of acting out stories from his latest missions, keeping everyone in stitches. Even Jason relaxed, offering up a few quips that had everyone laughing.
After dinner, you found yourself in the kitchen, tidying up while everyone was in the living room. You paused, leaning against the counter, letting the warmth of the night settle over you. They weren’t all your biological kids, but they were yours all the same. Your family, each of them so different yet so loved.
Bruce walked in, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m perfect,” you said, reaching up to lace your fingers through his. “I just… I love them so much, Bruce. Seeing them all together like this makes me feel…” You trailed off, unsure if there was even a word for how full your heart felt.
He gave you a rare, gentle smile. “They love you too. More than you know.” And then, after a pause, he added, “You’re the reason they’re all here. You’re what brought us all together.”
You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Well, I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” Bruce said, pulling you into his arms. “They’re home because of you.”
The two of you lingered in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s warmth, until you heard Tim’s voice call from the living room. “Are you two planning on hiding in there all night, or are we actually going to watch this movie, Mom?”
With a laugh, you and Bruce rejoined the group, taking your place among them. As the evening wore on, the boys began to drift off one by one, settling into the manor’s rooms or simply crashing on the couches. Jason fell asleep in an armchair, Damian nestled himself into a corner of the sofa with a book, and Dick was sprawled on the floor next to Tim, both of them talking quietly until their voices faded into the night.
When you and Bruce finally retired to your room, you glanced out the door one last time, your heart so full it ached.
“They’ll be off saving the world again tomorrow,” you murmured as you slipped under the covers, feeling Bruce’s arm wrap around you.
“But tonight, they’re home,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. And with that, you drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the comfort of knowing that, for this one night, you had your whole family right where they belonged.
Summary: You have a sudden idea that involves Peter’s web shooters and now he is completely at your mercy.
Word Count: 1.5K
| Day Fifteen | | Kinktober Masterlist | | Day Seventeen |
You and Peter were tangled together on the couch, limbs lazily draped over one another, his head resting against your shoulder as you both breathed in the calm of the moment. The gentle hum of the city outside was the only sound accompanying the soft breaths shared between you two.
But tonight, you wanted something more. Something new. Your heart raced a little faster at the thought as you gently brushed a hand through Peter's messy hair. He looked up at you with those bright, brown eyes, always so filled with warmth, trust, and love.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice a soft murmur as he pressed a lazy kiss to your collarbone.
You swallowed the nervous excitement building inside you, a slow grin spreading across your lips. "Yeah, just… thinking."
His brows furrowed in curiosity, that classic Peter Parker intrigue lighting up his face. "Thinking about what?"
Your fingers trailed down his arm, feeling the toned muscle under his skin. You could tell he was intrigued by your change in demeanor, his eyes searching your face for a clue. You leaned down and kissed him, deep and slow, your lips lingering just a little longer than usual, leaving him breathless when you pulled away.
"I want to try something new," you whispered, letting your voice drop just enough to make your intentions clear.
Peter’s lips twitched into that boyish smile you loved, his head tilting slightly as he studied you. "New, huh?" His fingers found yours, intertwining them. "I'm listening."
You reached into your pocket, pulling out the small, familiar devices—Peter’s web-shooters. His eyes widened immediately, amusement and curiosity dancing across his features.
"I thought," you began, your voice hushed as your fingers brushed over the mechanical web-slingers, "maybe I could use these… on you."
Peter's breath caught in his throat, his eyes darkening with a mixture of surprise and intrigue. "You… want to tie me up?" he asked, his voice husky now, the playful teasing tone in his voice making your stomach flutter.
You nodded, biting your lip. "If you're into it."
He exhaled, leaning in close until his lips were barely brushing against yours. "Yeah," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "Yeah, I'm into it."
The bedroom felt warmer than usual as Peter let you guide him to the bed. His shirt was already halfway unbuttoned, revealing the familiar toned lines of his chest that you'd memorized from countless nights together. But tonight felt different. There was a new kind of tension—electric, palpable, as if the air itself was charged with anticipation.
He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on you as you attached his web-shooters to your wrists. He raised his hands, almost instinctively, letting you guide them above his head as he lay back against the pillows. His breathing was deeper now, his chest rising and falling with each beat, his muscles flexing as you positioned him.
With a quick motion, you shot out two strands of webbing, securing his wrists to the headboard. He tugged lightly, testing the strength, and you could see the way his jaw clenched slightly, the thrill of being held down already coursing through him.
"You good?" you asked, voice soft but full of heat.
Peter licked his lips, his gaze dark with desire. "More than good," he said, his voice low and rough.
You climbed over him, your hands trailing down his arms, feeling the tension beneath his skin as he remained bound to the bed. His eyes never left yours, filled with an eager hunger as you ran your fingers down his chest, stopping just at the hem of his pants. You tugged on the fabric teasingly, watching as his breath hitched.
"You look so good like this," you whispered, pressing your lips to his neck, your tongue tracing a path along his pulse. His head tilted back slightly, giving you more access as a soft groan escaped his lips.
You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the way his body tensed and relaxed under your touch. You moved slowly, taking your time, savoring the way Peter reacted to every little movement, every brush of your fingers or press of your lips. His hips shifted beneath you, the restraint of his wrists only amplifying the intensity of the moment.
"God, you’re driving me crazy," he muttered, his voice breathless as he strained against the webs.
You smiled against his skin, kissing along the line of his jaw before moving to his lips, capturing them in a deep, languid kiss. His response was immediate, hungry, and desperate, his tongue sliding against yours as he tried to pull you closer, but his hands remained bound, adding to the intensity of his need.
You could feel the power shift between you both, the way Peter was completely at your mercy, and you loved it. His vulnerability, the trust he had in you, only heightened the connection between you.
As your fingers skimmed the edge of Peter's waistband, his breath hitched, the deep growl that escaped his lips vibrating through you. His hips surged upward, seeking more, and the sheer hunger in his every movement sent a delicious ache pooling in your core. His body beneath yours was tense, coiled like a spring, every ripple of muscle betraying the restraint he struggled to maintain. The raw, almost feral desire in his voice made your pulse throb with anticipation, and each tremor of his body only stoked the flames of your own need.
A slow smile spread across your lips as you leaned in, brushing your mouth against the shell of his ear, your voice a soft, seductive whisper. "You're going to have to be patient." There was power in those words, a command that made Peter groan, his hips rolling in frustration as his wrists strained harder against the webs.
"I don’t know how much longer I can be patient," Peter rasped, his voice thick with desperation, his dark eyes locked onto yours. That mix of need and trust in his gaze—knowing he was completely at your mercy—sent a rush of heat through you.
Your hand slid lower, beneath the waistband, fingertips brushing his hardened cock, and Peter’s response was immediate. He gasped, his body jerking beneath you, back arching as a sharp moan tore from his throat. His entire being was a live wire, trembling under your touch, and every deliberate stroke had him shuddering in pleasure. His hips rocked upward in a futile attempt to chase more, the frustration only feeding the fire between you.
His moans filled the room, raw and needy, each sound louder than the last as you brought him to the edge and pulled him back again, over and over. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his arms flexed against the restraints, muscles straining as he fought to move, to touch you. His lips parted in gasping breaths, his eyes pleading as you leaned in, capturing his mouth in a fierce, searing kiss. His lips were hot, eager, and his tongue slid against yours with desperate fervor, making your pulse race in response.
Peter’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, each exhale trembling as your kiss deepened, lips crashing against his with an urgency that echoed the heat between you. His body tensed beneath yours, every muscle tight and quivering, a visible battle between restraint and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. His moans grew louder, raw and needy, his hips bucking up uncontrollably into your hand as his body chased release.
His back arched off the bed, every nerve ending on fire as his hands clenched into fists, pulling hard against the webs. His chest heaved, skin slick with sweat, as wave after wave of pleasure built inside him, coiling tighter with each passing second.
And then it hit—Peter’s body shuddered violently beneath you, his moans breaking into something deeper, rougher. His entire frame tensed as his climax tore through him, hips surging up into yours as he let out a guttural cry of release. His hands strained harder against the webs, fingers flexing helplessly as his muscles twitched and jerked, every inch of him trembling under the weight of his release. His eyes squeezed shut, face contorted in bliss as he rode the overwhelming sensation crashing over him, each pulse sending aftershocks through his trembling body.
As he came down, his breathing was erratic, every gasp still laced with remnants of pleasure, his body slowly softening beneath you. His skin was hot to the touch, his muscles twitching as he finally collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.
When you finally released him from the webs, his arms dropped limply to his sides, his chest heaving, skin slick with sweat as he fought to catch his breath. But the moment his hands were free, Peter pulled you close, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. His kiss was fierce, hungry, lips crashing into yours with a desperate intensity that sent a shiver racing down your spine.
He murmured your name against your mouth, his voice rough and hoarse, filled with satisfaction. His hands found your skin, finally able to touch you, and the way he held you—tight, unrelenting—made it clear he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.
