rules + whitelist | masterlist (hasn't been updated) | dni | tagging system | passing tips | voice passing tips
requests are open! ; 1
(requesting trans male reader is greatly encouraged!)
if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, kindly do not interact with this blog; I’d prefer greatly if you didn't read my stufff. thanks my brooos.
little bit about me...
i’m trans ftm (he/him), asian, i'm homoflexible and i’m also a minor. uhh, I think that should be it??
actually, address me by kel
gender-neutral/non-binary/genderfluid, etc. and (FTM) male reader-friendly!! super-duper friendly!!
also any masc-presenting, or pre-op ftm people are welcome too!!
if you identify as a (straight) cis woman who enjoys reading yaoi/bl, do not interact because i'm not comfortable with that, i'm serious because i do check.
the blog made for gays, made by gays, and made of gays.
if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; you just broke up with ur bf bc he cheated on u and Nightwing comes to make u feel better.
warnings ; swearing, break ups, venting (not traumatic or too deep) about relationship, manhandle joke, angst? its topic is sad but I think I made it too nice and fluffy
note ; i wanna add more, esp. with pillow talk or whatever but I'm too tired and maybe ill just make another part or smth or edit it
words ; 1.3k+
Your face burned, and your lips trembled against the hand you held up against your moth. You sighed shakily, dropping your head atop your arm leaned up against the railing of your balcony. That was the end of another relationship.
You looked at the wet cement down below, over the thin, black iron railing, your eyes couldn't focus on anything because of the fat tears that obstructed most of your vision. Gravity pulled your tears to the ground, almost pulling you entirely over the rails — you just felt so tired.
The day you've had was just about enough for you to bear. You found out your boyfriend of three years was cheating on you for two of those three years. But the worst part was that you hadn't even found out yourself; he had told you, and he had been the one to break up with you. As if, you were the problem.
You were in the way.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You murmured under your breath, rage began to well up, and you could feel it in your throat — strangling you, taking your breath and turning it into steam. "I wasted three years on him. Three fucking years of my life!" You backed away from the ledge, looking up at the sky as if it represented the entire world before you. "And for what?"
Despite it all, a part of you wanted him back. Not because you loved him, but because, where else will you find someone? You knew everything about him, and you... well, you hoped he knew just about everything to know about you. But now, all that information is useless. You were scared and alone; how much time did you really have? It's not like some handsome, piece of ass is going to come around and save you.
You slid down on the cold surface of the balcony, sitting down and tucking your knees in as you watched your fingers fidget in front of you. You stopped crying, but now it felt worse than before. Your heart had no means to release all that raw emotion because your body couldn't take the exhaustion.
"Hey, are... you alright?" A gentle hand grabs your shoulder, and your head shoots up to see dark blue eyes, staring at you with nothing but hopeful concern. His hope to somehow make you feel better, and his concern that you are currently sitting on the ground, eyes, nose, and mouth red and swollen.
You don't push away, not at all — in fact, that's the last thing on your mind. Even when it hits you that Nightwing is leaning over you, a knee on the ground and his arm on your shoulder. You're too drained to react properly, you just stare at him.
You pressed your hand on your cheek, murmuring your speech. "Give me a fucking break." Had he arrived at a time — literally any other time — less inconvenient, you probably would have asked him for an autograph and fawned over his arms. He chuckled at your reply, not at all offended by your display of disdain at his appearance. He took a seat next to you on the cold hard ground.
For a couple of minutes, you both just sat there, and you stared off into space as you silently fought with your inner demons to not lash out at him. With an apologetic sigh, withdrawing your attitude from before. "I'm sorry, it's been a rough night- I just found out my boyfriend was cheating on me for two years." Nightwing glanced over as you mentioned a boyfriend, so you weren't straight, huh? That totally won't affect how he sees you.
The man beside you sucked in a sharp breath as you mentioned your situation, immediately feeling terrible as he put himself in your shoes. "Don't worry about it; you deserve a little lashing out." You scoffed affectionately as you wiped your remaining tears away with your sleeve, he was friendly, wasn't he?
"That's nice of you to say." Suddenly, the floor looked much more interesting than looking at the attractive man beside you. He noticed the averted gaze and brought you back to reality by placing his hand on yours. "I'm serious, lash out at me! Whatever you wanna say to him, say to me." He was serious, grinning at his great idea.
"I mean I heard you wailing from miles away; I'm sure you don't have a shortage of things to say." He looked proud of himself. "Dear god — you heard that?" You stood up and backed away from him, with him following you closely. "I think half of Gotham heard that." He teased, watching your ashamed expression with a smile.
"You're kind of an asshole, aren't you?" You said, standing your ground as you taunted him right back. His smile only grew, "I have mixed reviews."
"Alright, Nightwing. I'll take you up on your offer." You crossed your arms and stepped closer to him, "I'll vent."
He rubbed his hands together in response, beckoning you towards him. "Give it to me."
Your face turned beet-red at the sudden conspicuous innuendo, and you paused. Hoping he hadn't noticed, you got back in the zone and tried to imagine your ex's face in place of Nightwing's. "Okay, alright. Well. You're... You're a dick."
Dick laughed, for more reasons than one. "That's it? Have at me! Don't be shy." You frowned, "Fine then, you're not just a dick. You're also cruel." You looked into his eyes, seeing your ex's face before you instead of Nightwing's.
To fuel the fire, you channeled all those feelings into your speech. "You broke my heart for no reason when you could have left me when you met him. And- Instead, you wasted my time, thinking I was in this... This loving relationship with a man I was going to marry — " Before you could keep rambling on, you felt strong arms around you, grounding you. You hadn't noticed you were trembling from the emotion until you felt the calm, still body against yours.
You also hadn't noticed how much you absolutely needed that hug.
Hesitating, your arms hovered over his back before you tenderly hugged him back, sinking into his body knowing he could still hold you from his already tight grip. You wondered if you'd ever be hugged like this again now that you didn't have a boyfriend. Whenever your ex did decide to hold you like this, it wasn't often.
Sleep took over your body as his warmth may have reminded you too much of your sheets, and the comfort of your bed. Maybe he reminded you of home.
"... Was that too much?" You murmured against the chestpiece of his suit. He shook his head, not wanting to see your expression just yet. Your frown and your trembling lips broke his heart.
"I think I'm tired." Dick took that to heart and picked you up with ease, walking over to your balcony door and stepping in. "Oh- so you're just gonna manhandle me then?" You declared eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. For a second, he was worried he had crossed a boundary. "Well, I'm okay with that." Now he wasn't so worried.
Dick chuckled as he placed you down on your bed, turning off the light beside you and moving to exit your apartment. He stopped in his tracks as he heard you groan. "Wait, come back..! Stay with me. Please?" He turned around to see you pouting on your bed, knowing you were trying your absolute best to extract pity out of him to make him stay.
"It'll be my first night in three years without a warm body sleeping next to me; you're really gonna leave a guy hanging?" He rolled his eyes as you played the break-up card, waltzing over with a defeated look on his face. You on the other hand, had adorned an expression of joy.
if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; nightwing and ur dynamic, as a small, not super skilled, thief that nightwing likes
warnings ; male! reader, cussing, mention of oral sex (no actual sex at all), banter,
note ; wish i wrote smth abt nightwing's GYATTT
words ; 1.3k+
Your teeth chattered in your jaw as you continued to shovel stacks of cash from the busted vault into your gym bag. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you could feel your fingers going numb from the adrenaline rushing through your hands — Faster, damn it, faster!
The emergency lights flashed a red hue on everything you saw, and you couldn't hear anything but a pulsing in your head, and quiet and light steps behind you. Knowing who it was, you only sighed and remained tense, refusing to look your assailant in the eye.
"Really, s/o?" You winced at his disappointed tone of voice, already pissed at his audacity to talk as if — "As if you have the right to judge me, Boy Wonder." You spat out, frowning as you swivelled around to see Dick Grayson, a mere inch away from you. Your gym bag rotated around you on impact and caught itself on your shoulder. The impact and the shock alone were enough to make you take a step back — but not before Dick had slipped one of his batons behind the groove of your back, pulling you towards his chest by pulling on both ends of the baton.
"It's Nightwing now, actually." He corrected, seemingly unfazed by your resentful attitude. Your dynamic usually went this way; a small fight amongst rivals and old friends, with a mutual understanding that the other is off-limits. Looking down at your irritated face, Dick only grinned wittingly and nodded towards your bag full of cash over your shoulder, "I assume... money's tight?"
You could only laugh, feigning shock, "Oh, right, I forgot you don't know what it's like to be poor because your daddy's filthy rich." With a quick shove away from his suit-bound chest, you backed away from him and started immediately looking for exits.
Dick noticed and shook his head. "Hey man, he may be a billionaire, but he doesn't give me a single penny!" Dick stepped closer to you as you stepped back, cornering you. "Can you believe that?" He muttered, his perfect hair looking like a bright shade of red from your close-up point of view underneath the hue of the emergency lights.
You looked up at him, then looked down as you considered punching him in the stomach to get away. The vigilante began eyeing your bag, taking the chance and reaching for it when you were distracted looking for his weak points.
Acting quickly, you rip the bag away from him, bolting for a closed window jumping out of it and into another rooftop of a building. Glass had flown everywhere, some of it cutting you, and some of it landing inside your shoes. Dick laughed in slight annoyance as he saw you take off, not wasting another second and going right after you. "You can't run forever! I know this bank personally, s/o, they're getting their money back!"
You don't waste time looking behind you and flip him the bird over your shoulder, leaping onto another building with a running start. Midair, you feel a strong arm wrap grab your waist and fling you around in an unknown direction — just until you reach solid ground on top of a 24/7 diner. Not used to being in the fucking air you found yourself holding onto the superhero's shoulder's in a vice grip until you let go, finding the whole situation mortifying.
"Breakfast?" Dick looked at the bright Neon sign that was below eye level from his spot on the rooftop, grinning at you so coyly; he was serious.
"It's 4 AM, Dick." You say his name like an insult, rather than a title.
Dick, however, was unfazed, having heard that joke over a thousand times in his lifetime. "Well, yeah it's midnight, but I'm hungry and— Oh shoot! I'm short on cash... S/o? Do you happen to have cash?" Nightwing crossed his arms and hummed in thought looking around like a sailor looking for land.
You could only roll your eyes at his behaviour, knowing he was serious about using the money you stole to buy himself a chicken-fried steak and a stack of pancakes.
A normal person who was to look at this man's behaviour would have instantly known he was joking; you, however, were no ordinary man. For you have known Grayson for longer than you wanted to have known him, and a couple of years' worth of time spent with the acrobat was enough information for you to know; he fucked around, but man, did he love finding out.
You felt your shoulders drop in a "why-not" attitude, and you let out a long sigh, shrugging and gesturing to jump down from the rooftop of the diner.
With a pursed lip smile, Dick hopped down and opened the diner's front door, beckoning you inside eagerly. After you got down, you rolled your eyes at him but laughed anyway, finding the situation unbelievable. "Did you want a blowjob for your chivalry?" You joked, peeking over your shoulder to catch Grayson checking out your ass from behind you.
"Why; is that an offer?" Grayson ran his tongue over his bottom lip, rapid-firing his side of the banter. The hostess stood before the two of you, watching the exchange occur uncomfortably. Despite your public profanities, she couldn't care less, it was 4 am.
"Table for two?"
——————————————————————————————————
The air was calm in the diner, it smelt of coffee — which made sense, because how else would you stay awake at this ungodly hour? You were lucky that there was no one else here; a swarm of men and women alike would have crowded around the superhero sitting before you, had it not been empty.
As you scanned the menu briefly, you couldn't help but get a little distracted at the sight of the man before you. Stealing glances above the menu, you leaned back in your side of the booth and shrunk, trying to look as if you aren't staring at him just for the sake of staring.
"I know I'm gob-stoppingly gorgeous, but be careful, you might even fall in love with me with that look." Dick snorted, dropping the menu down on the table to reveal his shit-eating grin.
"Oh fuck off," You murmured, looking away for a second only to meet his eyes again. "... So what's the plan, Dick?" Your embarrassment was soon replaced with your focus on the important matter at hand. "Are you planning not to turn me in today? Plan to take me out to dinner like one of your girls?" His attention was now completely on you, his eyes carefully watching you as you got comfortable in your cushioned seat, balancing your head on your hands as you leaned forward.
"What do you want?"
Dick gulped. "Well, I... I want a huge stack of your house buckwheat pancakes and a soda float, if you please." His demeanour shifted completely as he transformed from sexy-man to child-patron when he waved his hand over to the waitress to get her attention and his order in. "And— What, a milkshake? A milkshake for the gentleman please— And fries!" He looked back at you, "can't have a milkshake without fries, am I right?"
You could only stare blankly at him as he conversed with the waitress across the room, "Dick, look at me." getting fed up with his indifference, you reached forward to grab his jaw lightly by the tips of your fingers, angling his face to confront you. You could feel your heart skip a beat as his dark blue eyes focused on you once again.
Your breath hitched, and you nearly forgot what you wanted to say. "... The hell do you want with me now that we're here?" You repeated under your breath, watching as one of his hands reached up to grab your hand on his face.
"Well,"
"Maybe I just wanted to waste some of your time, sweetheart."
if you read yaoi and/or bl regularly as a woman, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; miguel x male! reader
warnings ; male (he/him) reader, old unedited draft but im posting it bc i dont wanna edit this its been too long
note ; old draft inspired by that one song — posting this right after that last one, eat up!!1
words ; 1k +
otherworldly particles danced in the air, all smiles as you held his hands in yours, pulling him closer to you and farther away from his numerous screens. to him, it almost felt like the room was a little brighter, all thanks to your giddy laughter. It was still being decided if he even liked this lightened world, him being a wannabe vampire and all; but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to resist the change.
in fact, before you knew it, you weren't even the one pulling him anymore.
miguel's hands somehow found themselves bound around your waist, stopping you from moving anymore. with your body pulled snug against his, your hands travelled around his neck as instinct. he couldn't see—he thought to himself, he couldn't see anything but you. you, and your world.
"miguel." say it again.
you chuckled at his expression; although no words were spoken on his part, you never—not even for a second—felt unsure. which, he greatly appreciated. he liked that you knew actions spoke louder than words for him, because how would he even begin to verbalize the thoughts running through his head?
he let you trace his cheekbones with your thumbs, a shaky sigh threading itself through his fangs and teeth. "now i see..."
his eyes, once closed, blinked open.
"i see you for who you are."
before he could even catch his breath and ask you what you meant by that, everything started to fade away in boxes of colour. your voice became an echo, and your touch felt like a distant breeze; he wanted it all back.
he pressed on, you pulled away. until eventually, he woke up.
"what did you..!" miguel's eyes shot open from his slumber, his voice hitting the wall in front of him before his eyes could. "mean by... that?"
as if on cue, you managed to toss yourself awake, slightly annoyed by the noise. "mi-" you felt a sharp breeze graze your face, springing up the hair in front of your face, and making its way to the bathroom door—where it was briefly halted with the sound of the door closing.
worried, you pulled yourself out of a half-awake state, tripping on nothing in particular as you stabilized yourself on the door knob—that was unlocked, to your surprise. quietly, you opened it, having had a gentle understanding of miguel's vulnerability, you were careful not to upset him more.
you shut the door behind you, and let yourself see the man before you, who had nestled himself against the porcelain walls of the bathtub that took up half the space of your shared bathroom.
you didn't say anything. that's what you and dream-you had in common; you both understood words were ineffective when it came to a plethora of trauma-induced emotion. instead of saying anything, you got in the bathtub with him, stifling a yawn as you brought your knees close to your chest— occupying as little space as possible in miguel's tub of angst.
after a moment of uneasy silence, he spoke first. "... you know, i... i don't, like, you know i never wanted— fuck!" he hissed, frustrated with the way his voice sounded with his fangs in the way.
with a pause and a defeated huff, he let his eyes drop to his hands, "i meant... i mean... you don't see me as some sort of, like, monster, do you?" horror washed over your face at the mere thought of you treating him as if you did, but before you could start ricocheting multiple counterpoints as to why you did not, miguel spoke once more.
"look, i know, i sound ridiculous, but i just- i had this dream, and you were looking at me...? i can't describe it, like... fuck i wish, i don't know, i could describe it, but-" you caught a glance of his fangs as he scrambled for words, a rare sight as he often puts in an effort to hide them.
"miguel, i don't see you as a monster—" you clarified once more. "i've never seen you as a monster. in fact, i... i see you as a... as my saviour." you looked him dead in the eye as you spoke, only faltering when you admitted a concealed truth.
"i've heard your story, i know what you did for your family. you have to understand that your intention was good, it was pure. and you... even now, you continue to help, and change people in the ways you can—you pulled, you helped me out of a bad situation and... i will forever be indebted to you for that-" miguel could only listen hopelessly, as you rambled on and on about him.
"... and honestly, i just... love you." that was it. the first time you've ever said those words to him within the whole duration of your relationship.
he didn't say anything after that, and although that wasn't anything new; for the first time, you felt slightly queasy.
"um." you muttered.
that went away quickly however, when you were pulled towards him within the blink of an eye. fast acting, he settled your weight on his lap, caging yourself in within the cradle of his arms as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
as your brain tried to catch up with real-life events, miguel didn't give you any time to recover as his lips had already been all over your face, giving you more cause for you to love him. maybe that was his plan all along?
you could feel small pricks against your cheekbones, nose, eyelids, chin, and forehead—the order in which he kissed you—, you concluded the that it was probably his fangs causing it. nevertheless, you didn't mind; you could only describe it as a bunch of passionate butterflies, all over your face.
your eyes were closed for the most part, but as the gently, out-of-character assault on your face halted, you peeked through your eyelashes, irises landing on miguel's quirked-up lips. "i think you already know, but i love you too."
it was a bit shocking to see miguel smile so genuinely the way he did, having only seen an expression like that in old videos of him, but it definitely was refreshing to see— in comparison to that old resting-bitch-face of his.
", and thank you for cheering me up, in this... very uncomfortable bathtub."
idk if your requests are open but i was wondering if you could write a (tom)peter parker x male reader fluff because i really enjoyed the other ones that you have written 🫶🫶🫶🫶 much love
if you read yaoi and/or bl regularly as a woman, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; peter parker x male! reader
warnings ; male (he/him) reader, cussing, (tom holland) peter parker, established relationship
note ; love me some classic peter parker fanfiction - and thank u for requesting!! not sure how long this has been sitting here for whoops
words ; 0.8k +
"Hey, boyfriend." You snickered, hanging your head over him. Multiple strands of hair followed your sudden movement — blocking your view of him, or rather, his view of you.
He looked up at your face and pushed the strands of your hair to the side of your face without thinking much of it. The smile he beamed right back at you made you feel as if he was trying to move away curtains that revealed a most breathtaking view — you, his wonderful boyfriend.
As cheesy as it sounded, the way you looked at him and leaned down made his mind play one of the most righteous theme songs of the Star Wars trilogy. The feeling of your face against his hand, the desire to just hold you and never let go, the heat of his blood rushing everywhere, it was scary. Peter could hardly think straight when you let a small smile shine through your expression, where was he supposed to look? What was he supposed to touch?
As if on instinct, Peter's hands that were once placed on either side of him on the bed, took action and slid up your waist to gain a little bit more control once he saw you close the distance a bit more by resting on your elbows instead of your palms when hovering over Peter.
His grip caught you by surprise, who knew he could be so initiating?
"Is... Is that okay?" He murmured, watching your expression, terrified he was maybe too assertive this time.
He already went through this struggle with where to touch, back when he thought he only liked girls — but now, it's different. Despite all those experiences, It's like he had to relearn everything about the boyfriend world. It's not the same, because this time, he's the one with the boyfriend, not so much the one having to worry about his role as the only boyfriend in the relationship.
And Peter really doesn't want to fuck it up with his boyfriend.
To his shock and awe, you snorted, dismissing all his worries with one single breath.
"Peter, your heart's made of pure gold, isn't it?" You sighed as you fully relaxed into your new boyfriend's arms, letting your arms slide underneath the small of his back and lock softly.
With your eyes closed, and ear against his heart, Peter could comfortably wear his expression of pure exasperation as he settled into your embrace — not having to worry about you reading his face.
"Uh," Peter leaned his head back against the pillows to think, causing his throat to relax under the pressure of gravity — producing a scratchy tone in his larynx, once could only describe it as infatuation-inducing. "Well, maybe. I mean, I let you be my boyfriend, didn't I? I must be a saint!" He joked, a complete 180 to his previous attitude as he attempted to lighten the heavy romantic tension. A smile adorned his face with ease as he looked down at you for a (hopefully) good reaction.
You opened your eyes to playfully glare at him, "I take back what I said; your heart's made of pure lego — it's completely evident."
Peter feigned offence, "Hey, what makes you say that?" getting a bit more comfortable, he rolled over to face you instead of having to crane his neck down, keeping his hands flush against your back throughout.
"The way your joints click and clack, the way you get all stiff and plastic-like when you get nervous, the way you're practically indestructible — not to mention how much space you allow Lego Star Wars to take up in your heart; there's lots of things, Peter. " You laughed near the end of your mini-speech, fiddling with the the collar of Peter's shirt right in front of your point of view.
"And hey, you're basically built like Lego Batman with those 12-pack abs. Not that I'm complaining..." Peter flushed at the blatant flirt directed at his body.
"I did not come here today to be berated, s/o." Peter chose to ignore the last thing you said, "and I do not get 'plastic-like' when I'm nervous." Peter frowned, to which you chuckled.
"You came here because you missed me, be honest." You corrected.
"Well... Yeah, but you don't have to say it out loud." He mumbled, his shy expression breaking into a grin when he saw you smile first.
"Why not? it's true, isn't it?" You closed the distance between the two of you even more, chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach, lips-to....
Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned up to kiss him, shuddering when you felt his hand rub your back with a gentle force, pulling you impossibly closer to him to fully close the distance.
As the two of you kissed, Peter held you close and vowed to himself in his head, to always protect you. Because to protect you, means he'd be protecting precious moments like these.
if you read yaoi and/or bl regularly as a woman, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; miguel x male! reader
warnings ; male reader, cussing, no spoilers from the movie other than his existence
note ; that movie fucked me up ong, what the actual FUCK MARVEL HAD NO FUCKNG RIGHT TO DO THAT WHAT?? WHY IS HE SO BEAUTIFUL I STOOD IN A HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM FOR 20 MINUTES WATCHING MIGUEL EDIT COMPILATIONS. ON YOUTUBE. oh fun surprise at the end
words ; 0.5k +
"that's odd." you spoke to no one in particular, your chin resting on the back of your hand as you examined the back of miguel's... well, his rear.
"great." miguel huffed, blinking away his concentration on the screens before him, "what is it this time, s/o?" he swivelled his abdomen slightly to glance at you. with a pose like that... arms crossed, hip turned in a 45 degree angle, and his head looking over his shoulder at you; you could only chuckle.
miguel, once unbothered, was now VERY bothered. what were you laughing at?
"what the— why do you look like you know something i don't?" this time, miguel fully turned around; you had his full, undivided attention now. with a hand held up to your mouth to conceal your shameless laughter, you stood still as miguel made his way towards you. he wanted to take a closer look at the, what you call, humour of the situation.
"i'm sorry, it's just... um." your hand dropped from your face to his shoulder. you used his sturdy, well... extremely sturdy bicep, as a stabilizer as you tried to break the news.
"... what?" he narrowed his eyes at you, suspicion clear in his voice.
in turn, you avoided his stare by looking at your thumbs; twiddling them. "nothing..."
"oh for christ's— spit it out!" resorting to slight violence, he shoved your shoulder lightly, pushing you against a wall (since when were walls in here?).
surrendering, you rose your hands. "i was just thinking about your butt! okay!?" you sulked, dropping your head on his chest. "i am only a man." your voice was muffled, by your shame was clear.
"you cannot be serious." he pulled your head back gently by the tufts of your hair, just so he could look at you.
"i'm sorry, but your suit... it kind of makes you look like a slut-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before a loud, audible gasp filled the Spider-Man's lungs.
"excuse me?" your boyfriend's beautiful baritone voice was tragically replaced by a shrill, lady-at-the-grocery-store sound.
you grinned at his offended expression, "what- aw, does my boyfriend not want me objectifying him?" you blinked at him and pouted, leaning against him as he scoffed grumpily at you.
miguel sighed and lifted his arm up pointedly, beginning his defence—you, in turn, you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his exposed waist. "just so we're clear; i'm not your boyfriend, you're MY boyfriend." completely desensitized to your PDA, he spoke confidently as if it was any different to what you just said; as if claiming property of a little gay boy was something to be proud of.
you could only pause, and stand in shock.
"..." you couldn't even look at him.
"..." all he was doing, was looking at you.
"i apologize. that sounded better in my head-"
"don't worry; i get it. you want me to be your boyfriend AND your pimp." before miguel could even think to catch you, you managed to sneak a satisfying squeeze on his left cheek before you started sprinting away, as fast as you humanly can.
"s/o, come back here!"
"totally worth it! you can't say that shit during pride month, miguel!"
if you read yaoi and/or bl regularly as a woman, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; eddie finds ur baby photos + you guys kiss + drops the L bomb
warnings ; male (he/him) reader, ugh i miss writing lower case, no major spoilers, just the character, L bombs, not edited
note ; fuck season 4 bro im shitting tears (yes yes im late to the party, pls, bring in the requests)
words ; 0.7k +
⊱ ───── {⋅ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ - ꜰʟᴇᴇᴛᴡᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴀᴄ⋅} ───── ⊰
"Sweetheaaaart!" He spoke in a singsong voice, "Look what I found!" Eddie slid into your viewpoint from the hallway outside your room, stopping at your door frame on the heels of his tattered socks.
Horror washed over your entire soul as your jaw dropped an inch, eyes widened in panic. "Eddie. Do not tell me…"
Eddie could only stare at you, amused as he tauntingly swayed your photo album back and forth. "Yup, I found your baby photos…!" After Eddie had confirmed your suspicions (with a shit eating grin too), you took no time to launch yourself at him from where you sat. "Eddie! Give- Those- Back!"
Your frown deepened as you heard Eddie's happy laugh echo across your room, his arms catching you after your failed attempt to steal the album back. Eddie's eyes closed as he took a deep breath shortly after wrapping his arms around your back, the cold plastic cover of the album resting on your skin. "Mmmm... Do you smell that?" You scoffed as you heard the smile in his voice, begrudgingly getting comfortable in his grip.
"What, the deceit and lies in the air?" You grunted bitterly into his Hellfire shirt.
He playfully shoved you onto the bed in return of your mean comment, collapsing on top of you shortly after. "C'mon man, don't be like that!" You rolled your eyes, scooting away from him and sitting up. "I, personally, think a trip down memory lane sounds great, but you—" He poked your forehead, crawling towards you and delicately taking a seat on your lap.
"—don't." You finished his sentence, glaring at him for a solid 11 seconds before groaning dejectedly. He was pouting at you, eyes down turned and… Well, adorable. "Okay fine, just open the damn book already." You muttered barely above a whisper, annoyed he was still able to hear you. Eddie expressed his joy the only way he knew how, by cheering loudly, gripping your shoulders, and swinging.
With a final pump of his fists in the air, "Yeeeeesss! You're the best, s/o," he kissed you in thanks. The celebration was short-lived as Eddie had shifted all his attention onto the photo album. "Now come to papa…" You grimaced at his creepy tone, "C'mon man, act semi-normal at least."
"Good sir, I refuse." Eddie flashed a grin to you, placing one hand on his heart, and the other pointing up before excitedly opening the album. With a childlike giggle, Eddie fell backwards, letting his giant hair cushion his fall on your lap.
You couldn't exactly see inside the book from that angle, safe for the view of Eddie's expressions changing every flip of the page; from happy to tearful, and shocked to elated. It was embarrassing for you, but at least he was enjoying himself.
"Oh, my heart." Eddie rested his hand on his chest once again, laying the book flat on his stomach, looking up at you through his hair. "Who knew this lil' sweetheart would turn into such a dork when he grew up?" He could barely get through the complete sentence without laughing. You tugged his hair lightly, snorting at his winced reaction. "Look who's talking, Eddie the Banished."
His face suddenly hardened jokingly, a finger pointing straight into your face, "Don't disrespect the dungeon master, otherwise you'll get—" You suddenly felt afraid of the mischievous look in his eyes.
"—murdered by Vecna himself!" He only cackled as you screeched away from his hands wrapping them around your waist, lifting you up and off the bed to pin you to the wall.
"Eddie, if you drop me, I will-" He kissed you. "D- don't interrupt-" He kissed you again, holding it longer than the previous one. You groaned softly into his lips, relaxing and letting yourself slide down the wall and to the ground with Eddie's help. He only pulled away for air, moving his hands to your wrists and pinning them above your head. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you stared him down.
His trance was broken by his cheeky grin, instantly giving you a bad feeling about what he was going to say…
"I love you." He muttered quickly.
… Only to be proven utterly wrong.
You felt your face heat up, a goofy smile breaking out on your face. "Wow, Munson, you just made it gayer." You chuckled through intervals of nervousness and intense elation.
"Say it baaaack." Eddie said in a warning tone, dropping his hands from yours to grasping both the sides of his face. "Or Vecna..."
You finally gave in and laughed wholeheartedly, "Okay, yeah, yeah, I love you too." Eddie's signature smile grew slowly on his face, as he inched closer.
m! reader — 1k words — angst with a happy ending — this can be interpreted as a continuation of witness — mentions of intense grief — mentions of suicide — please don't read if those things will make you upset/uncomfortable.
Bruce moved on fast. This was just a matter of going from one Robin to the next. I hated him for it. I hated Tim, too— even though I knew it wasn't his fault. I hated a lot of things. The world for not stopping without him. The birds for still chirping. The wind for still blowing. Clocks for still ticking. Myself for still breathing. I could name a million things that had been taken from me when he died. All I can think of is him. I can't get anything done. So I just sit here on the bench in front of his headstone.
I stopped talking after it happened. I stopped going out. I killed every part of the life I had without truly dying— but that was just a matter of the guts I lacked. I did everything I could to make myself as close to dead as he was. And I rotted with him; regardless of the fact his body wasn't underneath the soil. "You've done this every day for the past two weeks," A man spoke, sitting next to me on the bench across from Jason's headstone. "is this all you do?" I didn't move. I didn't even acknowledge his presence. It felt weird to be this close to another person. I hadn't really heard anyone else's voice in three years. My rent always seemed to be paid for me, and groceries were never an issue since I always had what I needed at the apartment. I knew Bruce was the one doing those things for me, but it didn't change my anger.
"Please," I could feel the way my brows knit together. His voice was quiet. "I need you to look at me." I didn't want to. Some part of me wanted to continue playing dead. I didn't want to interact with the world as if I was of any significance. Despite this, he grabbed me and forced me to turn. His hair was black, face morphed with some sort of desperation. A scar raised in the shape of a J brandished his cheek, and his eyes... I knew those eyes.
I forgot his voice. That was the only thought that seemed to cross my mind now that I was being faced with him. I couldn't recognize him despite the way I once had been able to tell him apart just by his footsteps. The realization was painful. “Say something,” He pleaded, brows furrowed.
But I couldn't. There was no word that my body could utter, no sound that I could possibly make to properly articulate the hellfire that was going on inside of my mind. I wanted to scream. I needed some way to dispel the two and a half years worth of grief and suffering I had endured. I needed some way to take it all back. A way to turn back time, so that I could walk into his death knowing that he would return— knowing that he was still alive. I have spent literal years being hopeless and wanting every day to die and be with him. But here he was in front of me, as if all of that pain I had gone through was for absolutely nothing. And yet for some reason it was him that I was angry at. Despite the things I had to see him endure. Despite knowing he hadn't done any of this on purpose. The guilt of feeling that way ate at me.
He held onto me as if I'd slip through his fingers. Clutching me so tightly by the arms that the vessels beneath my skin were breaking under the pressure. I didn't mind. As long as I got to feel him one more time, I would have let him kill me if it was what he wanted. His absence left my world a different color— and now that he was back, I had to meet him once more, and one day I'll have to lose him again. I can't.
“Can't what, baby?” He brushed the hair out of my eyes as the wind picked up. I guess I spoke out loud.
“Feel like this again.” I didn't know what I was saying. I didn't know what I wanted. My body ached for him. My heart was torn to shreds from the loss. So what was going to happen when he really dies? Could I survive that? The way I barely survived this? And if so, was that really any way to live?
I was pulled from my thoughts by the feeling of Jason's hands holding my cheeks. Warmth against the crisp air that chipped away at my skin. "I spent two years....” I could see the way he was choking back his words. With a deep breath he moved on. “Two years dreaming of being with you again.” It made me wonder what he had been doing for the rest of the time he was gone, but that was a question for another time. “I think the only reason I survived all of it was because I needed to get back to you.” For a moment I forgot what it was like to trust him. In front of me was not the same Jason I knew, and yet still I could feel the old Jason's heart. He had been through so much that he changed as a person, but the care in his voice and the love that dripped from his fingertips every time he touched me was the same. The feeling of it made me believe his words.
I leaned myself into his body, grasping onto him just as he was holding me a while ago. Breathing him in, memorizing the weight of his arms wrapped around me. I would have to learn how to be with him again. Have to learn how to be human. Learn how to love him and trust him the way that I did so long ago. i'd have to figure out how I was going to apologize to Bruce, and how I was going to forgive him. There were so many things that I personally destroyed in my life for practically nothing. I wasted away only to be proved wrong. I almost killed myself for a man that was still alive.
There was a lot I was going to have to work through, but for now all I needed was him.
ive been working and also i'm in a massive block rn and no one is requesting anything, my interaction's at an all time low im getting like a max of 3 likes every 2-4 days so it just sucks. i know this fic was shitty but like i said writers block is kicking my ass so it took a while to even be able to finish this. i would really appreciate some reblogs on this fic or another one that you really liked, it'd mean a lot to me.
if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; you + pete are dating, and you're about to have the house all to yourselves— but peter has to wait to do so, and he gets impatient. basically.
warnings ; m! reader (he/him), cussing, suggestive, a bit unorganized, unedited so probably typos, you have parents (lol he doesn't), also tom's spiderman
note ; this was going to go so much more different than i wanted it to!! i wanted it to be like peter was texting you and he was outside your window and like, frustrated bc he did not know if you liked him, and then you told him to come over or something and idk WHAT IS THIS . inspidered by the song below
It was a nice, warm winter evening— or at least, it felt warm to Peter considering how much he was sweating that day. With a disgruntled string of curses, Peter whipped out his phone as he balanced himself on a lamp post, ready to text Ned and ask him if he remembered how to turn on the air conditioning in his suit.
Despite the gross feeling of his suit sticking to his thighs and pits, Peter continued to hesitate on sending that shameful text message. Not because it was the middle of December, or how Peter could not (or would not) tell Ned the very irrational reason why he needed those puffs of air in his suit— no, it was because of love, that's why! That's why he was sitting on a lamppost, worriedly watching you outside your house awaiting your incoming text message.
"God, I sound like an idiot. Oh god, I probably look like an idiot too." Peter grumbled, with his hands resting on his face and fingers set strategically, so he'd still be able to see through them, and into your bedroom window. Not creepy at all, no.
Before you harshly judge Peter's actions, (and rightfully so,) let it be known why he was doing it in the first place!
Just a couple of minutes ago, you two were texting (passionately)—as hormonal teenage boys do—until all of a sudden, you sent the following;
"My parents are about to leave to go check out some real estate property. They probably won't be back until 10 PM, at the earliest— wanna come over? I've gotta beat someone at Smash Bros."
What!? Peter was ecstatic, he was just about ready to go—having already slung on his pants and T-shirt with his webbing with one hand as he watched his phone screen with the other, like a hawk.
"Oh but, maybe wait a couple of minutes because my mom lost her phone and she'll probably take a few. I'll get you back with an update."
Nooooooooooo!
Oh, you. You... Evil, teasing, handsome, mischievous, terrifying you. If only you knew what you had just unleashed.
Despite your friendly reminder that Peter had to wait before he could smash you- I mean, play Smash with you, he did not care. Instead, he decided that a couple of minutes in the cold, waiting outside your room would be nothing to the spectacular Spider-man.
Also, because he made a giant webby mess in his room and he did not want to be home when Aunt May sees it.
And now we're back here; back to Peter sitting and waiting out on a lamppost, alone, and sweaty in the cold—which was ironic because he thought that his major problem of today would be the weather, not his hormones. He thought the latter would come easy, and oh boy, to say it did not.
"Ugh, come on S/o's mom! Find your damn phone already!" Peter moped as he watched your mom roam your room, searching for her phone helplessly—
—until, he saw it.
Her phone! Peter near jumped off the lamp post to try and catch your attention and point at the phone resting on the window sill, until he luckily realized that that was not a good idea.
Instead, Pete opted for whipping his phone out, texting furiously with his cold, but clammy fingers. "S/O!!! TELL YOUR MOM TO CHECK ON YOUR WINDOW SILL!!!!"
Wait, no, try again.
"Hey, you know I lost my phone last week and I actually ended up finding it on my window sill hahah, maybe check there?"
Nice and smooth.
Peter internally high-fived himself as he watched you pick up your phone from his angle. Followed by your sudden diversion of your attention to your window, then your gasp, and then your funny reaction of rapidly pointing at your window sill like a crazy person, where your mom's phone rested. With a relieved smile, your mom kissed you on your cheek and waved you goodbye, to which you turned red and—to Peter's dismay—closed the curtains. Gee, looks like you really hoped no one saw that exchange of mom kisses.
"Fuck!" Well this sucks. Now Peter can't watch you from your window like a— Ding!
A notification from you! Hooray! Who cares about the window, now he'll get to see the real thing!
"Thanks for the tip, bro! turns out her phone was in the exact location you just sent me— isn't that funny? Anyway, she's leaving soon, so you should probably start getting ready to leave."
Peter sighed, "If only he knew."
The familiar sound of an engine revving up caused Peter to perk up, now paying attention to the car that just pulled out your driveway which could be no other than your parents. Mission complete, Peter could now take action and tame his hormonal tendencies.
"All clear!" You quickly sent him, thinking there was no possible way he was as excited as you were-
Until a knock interrupted your thoughts.
You opened the door, shocked at the sweaty man you saw before you. "Peter?"
"Hi." With a smile like that, you could never have known he had just stripped himself naked and stuffed his suit into his backpack in seconds flat, prior to meeting you.
"But I just sent you the message? How did you get here so fast?" You laughed exasperatedly, ushering him in quickly before your parents could come back and kick him out.
"Love... finds a way?" He chuckled awkwardly, hoping he wouldn't have to explain his stalker-ish tendencies.
You could only shake your head, and laugh as you wasted no more time to pounce on him, letting him pick you up and bring you to the room he was just staring into not long ago. "Wow, strong too." You commented, to which he reacted bashfully.
You patted him on the arm, signalling your desire to descend from the soft pillows Pete calls his biceps. "Okay, this is getting demeaning— put me down."
The bed gave a good tiny bounce as you both settled onto the bed, with you getting comfortable just sitting on his chest. ""Love finds a way," huh?" Peter could only shrug, "Yup." not wanting to say anymore.
"So you love me?" You paraphrased his once thought-through quote, and replaced it with "disastrous gay blurbs."
"Love? Oh, did I say love?- I just meant- I mean, if you want- but I thought we were at the "like-like" stage? But I mean, if you're uncomfortable I can totally just-"
You interrupted him with a cackle, "Like-like stage? You did not just say that." A deadpan expression rested upon your features, something that screamed, "You are better than that." —causing Peter to flush even more than before. "Shut up." He muttered dejectedly, flopping face-first into your pillows. "I thought you were actually offended!" his words were muffled, but the true embarrassment laced in his words still came through.
In your defence, "I was!"
"No, you weren't," Peter corrected, "No, I wasn't." You repeated.
"You're mean." He stated, getting up from his fetal position and throwing one of your pillows at you. "But you love me." You reminded, a shit-eating grin decorating your features, laughing before getting a mouthful of pillow and suddenly, not laughing anymore.
"Correction, I "like-like" you." Peter climbed on top of you, you who had been pillow-beaten to death. "Ugh, back to the "like-like" stage, so much worse than the bro stage!" You feigned despair, a ghost of a smile still peaking through your grimace.
It only took seconds for Peter to make the decision he usually has trouble with— the decision to kiss you.
And let's just say, thank god your parents decided to overnight it at the real estate building.
if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; s/o comes back from work and quest missed him
warnings ; m! reader (he/him), semi nudity (nothing sexual), mentions of prostitution?? in a jokey way, no one is actually a prostitute*
note ; i am... so bad... at ending... oneshots bro..
words ; 0.8k+
⊱ ───── {⋅ꜱᴛᴀʏ - ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍᴀʟᴏɴᴇ⋅} ───── ⊰
you sighed, clearing your throat as you took off your shoes on the fuzzy mat in front of the door you just came in from. As soon as you set your bag on the coat hanger, you were immediately greeted with a warm set of arms, and a soft chest. "oh- ... hi quest." you chuckled defeated.
his muscles seemed to relax around you when he heard your meek voice, as if he wasn't sure you actually existed until your voice handed him the proof. you could hear him murmur something underneath his breath as he dug his face into your neck, his arms dropping from your shoulders to your hips, then to your hands.
he exhaled before lifting his head up to look at you, albeit pitifully. as if he was a puppy who shit on the bed by accident, and you found out. "…sorry. how was your day?"
his voice was so extremely careful, that's one of the first things you noticed about him when you first voice-called with him. it was so delicate, and closely comparable to the sound it makes when tape peels off your phone screen, as if his voice had the power to break glass. it was always so satisfying, and so careful. for someone as intimidating as him, his voice never seemed to match his reputation to passerby.
"a 'sorry'? for that? after that hug, i think you deserve to have loose 20 dollar bills thrown at you from me!" quest shook his head disapprovingly, "s/o." he said in a comedically disappointed sitcom-esque tone, hands rested on his hips only amplifying the moment.
"you're right, i'm not a prostitute," you dropped your smile as his eyes grew in shock, "or maybe i'm the most convincing one," you laughed tauntingly, stepping away from him to make your way to the bedroom.
as you stripped your pants off, you began to work on your tie in front of the mirror, only to be met with quest's huge chest in your face, and his hands on your shoulders. "let me help you." you sent him a look, to which he sent back a cheeky one, "what? i have to make sure my handsome prostitute is comfortable before sleeping on his bed that we'll share for many more years to come." you unintentionally jerked your head up from glee, only to follow with embarrassment from how happy you acted when he implied that he saw a future with you.
quest seemed to instantly take notice as he stopped to ask you, "what's wrong, angel?"
you shook your head, lips sealed shut as he managed to get to each button, taking off your shirt completely and leaving you in boxers. despite feeling vulnerable to your feelings before, to worsen things, you were vulnerable in two ways now.
"i- i was just… happy from what you said earlier. is all." quest's eyes widened as yours darted all over the room for your pyjamas. "about me calling you a… prostitute? is that your… um… kin-" he hesitated, and you took the opportunity to stop him from saying anything more.
"no! no—what?—no, of course not! i was talking about you implying that you see a... that you see a future. with me. with us." your sentence started out fast, then slowed down, then muffled up as you threw your nightshirt over your head.
"a- are you kidding? of course i see a future with you! i- i'm happy to hear that you're happy to hear from what i said about being happy with you- i mean... ha." quest blurted out with no sense of sentence structure. it was cute how he was still as awkward as he was the first time he was on VC with you.
you took both of his hands, letting your face cool down from a vermilion red to a soft pink as you flashed him a soft smile. quest could only sigh with closed eyes, defeated in return. you spoke, "here i was all embarrassed, and you couldn't even let me suffer that by myself." deep laughter filled the warm air as you both prepared for bed, with quest taking his position right behind you as he always did.
"before you say that was cringy," he started, "to be fair, you were gone for some time and..." then he stopped.
"i missed you." you could feel his arms wrap around you, along with the feeling of his breathing against your shoulder. turning around, you slipped your hands up from the lock of his hug, resting your hands on each side of his face.
he leaned in, only to frown at the short-lived moment as you pulled away, his glasses in your possession before setting them down on your shared nightstand. before you could even think of returning to coax your pouty boyfriend, quest had already reached out to grab your hands first, bringing them back to his scarred cheek bones.
"aren't you going to say i missed you too?" quest looked up at you, with blue eyes no longer shielded by his glasses—which meant you could see every sentiment hiding underneath.
if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; peter parker has a halloween debate with u
warnings ; weiner, kissing, m! reader, high heights, unedited, i didn't like the pacing so - bad pacing, funny insults, usage of word sexy but no sexy stuff
note ; tbh ive been missing peter parker, but there's no male reader and i mald. mald every day, guys pls request a little stuff
"Honestly, Halloween is overrated." You whipped your head around to look at Peter from your position laying down, an expression so offended on your face, that you could feel frown lines creasing atop your features. Rolling over, you tackled him on top of the roof you two were previously resting on, before Peter mentioned that thought of his that never should have seen the light of day.
How dare he?! Halloween is not only a great holiday to show your generosity, but also the best excuse to dress as over-the-top you want!
"How dare you?! Halloween is not only an amazing holiday to give back, but also, the best excuse to dress as extravagantly as you want!" You only repeated what you thought, because of how concrete your statement was.
Your neck, now sore from the immediate swivel, turned red—either from pure offence, or from the pain, it did not matter! What blasphemy!
"Hey, I just think that Halloween is way too hyped up for a holiday where people wear masks and rob people of candy!" He held up his hands in defence, before resting them back on each side of his body. "Do you have any idea how high the crime rate goes as Spider-man?!"
"Don't pull the Spider-man card on me—and also! That's not Halloween's fault, that's just the dumb wieners out there who want insurance money." You sputtered, gesticulating willy-nilly.
Peter couldn't help but giggle, despite how serious you were being. "Wieners?" Of course, he wouldn't tell you this. But he really couldn't take you seriously. His little boyfriend saying wiener in a derogatory sense, had to have been the highlight of his day.
"Yes! And also, the kids are adorable! Have you seen how small their costumes are?" You spoke softly, as if trying to sway him.
Peter frowned, very close to being persuaded that Halloween is, indeed, a supreme holiday. The superhero absentmindedly started playing with the strands of hair shielding your forehead. "But... Okay, but-" He stuttered, racking his brain for arguments.
Whilst he attempted to think of something, you reigned in your temporary victory, shaking his shoulders in glory. "Yes! Fina-"
"Wait, I got it!" He threw his hands up in a fit of realization, a high-pitched scoff erupting from his throat, a scoff so high, that it was higher than the building his friends almost fell off of. "You couldn't have possiblt thought it was over, right?" He scooted up the roof, bringing you up with him, the spandex material of his suit nearly making you slip off his thigh, to your death.
His face suddenly went scientific. You really couldn't describe it, he just made that face he does when he's about to school you with information, most of the time about science, rarely anything else. To emphasize his point, he swung his hands in front of him in a board-like manner, like he was miming a cardboard box, and you were trapped in it.
"Horror movies." Peter looked at you expectantly, as if he was expecting you to burst into flames on how right he is.
"What about them?" You merely crossed your arms, and pointed your chin up, an act of defiance against your boyfriend.
Peter's eyes darted all over the place, from one fire escape to the next, like he was trying to find Freddy Krueger hiding inside a drain pipe. He hated horror movies.
"Come on, s/o, you've got to give me this one! It can't possibly be a coincidence that all those terrifying horror movies are all on Halloween. And, and-" You interrupted clasping his face suddenly, with hands that sent chills to Peter's spine from the October breeze.
"Peter. Look at me." His eyes, stiff, freeze onto you.
You kissed Peter's lips, shocking him momentarily. "You're adorable. The light of my life. The spaghetti to my meatball. But you're a pussy." His eyes, once wide and in love, narrowed into slits. Peter, in a small act of rebelliousness, stood up and brought you up with him, causing you to fall backwards on purpose. With your voice caught in your throat, and your heart pumping a thousand miles a minute, you thought you died and fell off the rooftop. Over a Halloween debate.
Which, in your defence, was totally worth it.
Sadly, you wouldn't be able to go out in glory, Peter isn't that vengeful. He's no Robert Pattinson.
He caught you by the hand as soon as you were one inch away from his playful shove, arms wrapped around your waist, with a smile resting softly on his features. You couldn't read exactly what he was thinking, but you could tell whatever it was, it had to have been special to him.
You sent him a look, head hanging at an angle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Peter shrugged queerly, "I dunno. I liked the thing you said about how I'm adorable… and handsome… and totally sexy…" You grinned, "Hey, I only said one of those."
He rolled his eyes in such a way that he really might've just twirled his hair, and it would've looked the same. "Well, they're all true, aren't they?" He looked at you, expectant, his hands resting on your back comfortably.
"Well, aside from the fact you're totally trying to distract me from winning this Halloween argument, yes, your self-proclaimed compliments are all true." You traced your fingers on the mechanical spider on his chest, chuckling exasperatedly.
Peter was infatuated by his boyfriend, he looked like he was gone. "And?"
You leaned in, pulling him in by his shoulders, eyes switching over Peter's lips and his eyes.
if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; pillow fluff, pillow talk? with quest!!
warnings ; cussing, kissing, fluff, the funnies, not very serious, just fluff and fun, unintentional gn reader - i was planning for it to be male but alas
note ; i did a drawing to go with it too! (At the end)
words ; 0.7k +
⊱ ────── {⋅.sunshine - steve lacy.⋅} ────── ⊰
slowly but surely, your eyes were forced open by the harsh rays of sunlight breaking through panned glass from the window, causing you to wake up earlier than you wanted. hissing, you used your forearm to shield your eyes from the light like a certain shallow, yet fashionable vampire. with one arm sticking to your face, you rolled over and felt around on your bed with your other arm, trying to find your favourite daisy-spotted pillow. you let out a noise of surprise, as your palm met with tough skin instead of soft cotton.
"ouch." a gruff yet playful voice erupted from the other side of the bed, causing you to peel the arm covering your eyes away so you could check on quest. "oh! sorry, are you okay?" you rolled to the other side of the bed to coddle your boyfriend, only to have every ounce of guilt disperse from your system as you saw the pillow he clutched so comfortably in his arms. rubbing his cheek against it. tucking his arm underneath it. it felt like you witnessed infidelity.
it was your favourite. daisy-spotted. pillow.
you grimaced at him, frowned, gave him the dirtiest look you have ever given anyone in your entire life. you crossed your arms and bore your eyes into his soul, expecting him to apologize.
quest would be sweating bullets at your stare if he wasn't so infatuated with everything you did; sometimes being loved by this man can have a downside as he doesn't find anything you do, threatening.
for example, that one time quest accidentally crushed your keyboard mouse because he wasn't used to the weight of it. you got mad, because he hadn't told you and tried to blame it on gravity. you called him by his full name, mustering your scariest look on him, and all he did was kiss you in the midst of your rage.
"quest.." your warning voice quickly turned into a childish whine. "i want my pillow back."
for a second, you weren't even sure if he heard you, as he just stared at you with the silliest grin without any indication that he was planning to return your pillow.
"que- hey!" with a gentle and swift movement, quest took the hand that was tucked underneath the pillow and tenderly guided you onto his pillow covered chest. "is this better?" he grinned against your ear, lips brushing against your cheek. you could practically hear the heart emojis in between his words.
with your face flushed, arms tucked between your chest and his, the pillow pathetically stuck between the both of you, you'd say—"...yes." yes. yes, it was better.
quest seemed content with your response, his rough hands happily rubbing up and down your spine seemed to show it. "i'm glad, angel." his silly smile widened, and he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. closing his eyes to enjoy the lazy morning with you, he whispered, "next time you need a pillow, just ping me."
you groaned, shoving him away, "you really had to ruin the moment like that, huh?" you feigned annoyance, but the laughter bubbling in your throat screwed you over.
"i don't know what you're talking about, that was extremely romantic!" he snorted, stretching his large arms back over to you to bring you back towards him. "yeah, sure, okay, discord mod." your grin grew even wider when quest finally caught you and brought you back in, pillow long forgotten and thrown off the bed. "say what you will, but you fell for this discord mod." he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, rough hands dropping and landing against the side of your stomach when he leaned over to stare down at you.
"ah, don't remind me of the biggest mistake of my entire adult life. worse than the time i thought peeing in the public pool at the water park was a good idea." you sighed dejectedly, eyes droopy and full of feigned regret. quest laughed hard, so hard that he crumbled up and fell against you, head landing against your chest and causing the entire bed frame to tremble.
the laughter was briefly slowed to a stop with a soft sigh, then followed by a sincere remark. "seriously though. if you need a pillow, i'm always here, angel. okay?"
[breaking news] gotham stroll turns into gay angst
if you fetishize mlm relationships, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; (physical) hurt/comfort, as reader gets attacked by riddler and batman has to save his concussed ass
warnings ; cussing, blood, concussions, violence, male (he/him) reader
note ; i wrote this so long ago i just wanted to finish the draft and pump it out as the last batman fic im gonna do probably? who knows? maybe another batman movie will come out and the brainrot will settle right back in
The walk to the crime scene was quiet, surprisingly. One quiet night in Gotham City, the shittiest shithole of hell. But however stupid it was, you felt the want to actually enjoy the moment, instead of feeling en guard that nothing was going on.
Regretfully, that might've been an awful decision on your part.
Batman had suggested you go with him, but you were held back at the Manor due to wanting to finish analyzing new tech and weaponry. "Don't worry! I've been meaning to get a walk in the city of good ol' Gotham." You said half-sarcastically, eyes glued to the screen in front of you as Bruce glared searing holes into the back of your head.
"S/o..." He began, but before he could finish, you raised a hand behind you, "I know, I know, I'll be careful. Stop vexing me and go, Gordon needs you." With a grimace, he left as told.
Now here you were, head resting against the side of a stinking, rusty dumpster. The riddler, who had caught you off guard with an ice scraper, hovering over you. At least, you assumed it was the riddler, based on the greenish blob that you could barely make out, and the... weapon in his hand?
With a slight spike in heart rate, the fear-fuelled adrenaline took over as you decided not to take the chance of guessing whether it was a weapon or not. You shook your head, bringing yourself up but gasping as you realized you only made the riddler's job easier, as he was now eye-level with you and perfect height to strangle the life out of you.
'Shit, shit shit!' Your inconvenient position against the brick wall had been inconvenient at first but, as you know, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. The brick wall worked as a ramp as you jumped up against it and used your feet to launch yourself at the riddler, hands outstretched to grab the cloth in his hand to take it and incapacitate him with it.
However, riddler landed awkwardly, and that caused your hand to slip and crash against the wet concrete. Was it raining? That didn't matter, your wrist was fucking broken.
The adrenaline crash, the cold, and the concussion seemed to intensify and team up against you to give you the worst physical beating in the world. "Fuck, b- batman! Help! Someone… help!" It was the lowest of the low—at least in your opinion—begging for help like this. You could practically feel the vibrations of the riddler's chilling laugh run up your spine.
As if a miracle could help you.
But just as all was lost, just as you saw riddler through sticky eyelashes with his cloth in his hand ready to break your neck, it stopped raining, and… seemed to get dark. You hadn't known the time, but it's highly unusual for the sky to just crash to darkness all of a sudden, so… What was it?
You look up.
And there he was, pale blue eyes surrounded in black paint glaring back down at you. It was like a scene out of a movie; his cape blowing in the wind, his body twisting in slow-motion to give the riddler a nasty right hook before turning back to you with hidden worry in his eyes. Maybe it was the concussion talking, but you could've sworn he hesitated before the attack when he saw you.
Unfortunately, it wasn't the concussion talking, as he really had hesitated, leading the riddler to escape and splash away in the rain. The riddler may be dumb enough to anger Batman, the dark knight, but he knew he was efficiently ineffective for a winning chance against Bruce.
Plus, he had plans before getting pummelled by him.
Left disorientated, bruce was unsure as he leaned down to check on you, trying to tap into Alfred's radio. "Fuck,"
He didn't know what to do.
For the first time, in his extremely repetitive life, he didn't know what to do. Had you asked him a long time ago before he met you,—and not just met, actually knew and seen you—he would've chosen to go after riddler without a second thought. Leaving you there with a police called to your area.
Now… now he's not so sure. Sensing his silence and hesitation, you called out his name out of panic. "Batman? What are you doing, you- go chase after him!" You blinked the burning rain out of your eyes, wincing as you tried to get up, breath hitching as batman presses his hand against your chest and pushes you back down gently. Your voice had traces of anger, at him and at yourself.
God knows what you've done, if Bruce can't save Gotham because of you, you would never forgive yourself. Worst of all, you knew he would never forgive himself either.
"Fuck." You breathed out exasperatedly, a small laugh leaving you. "I'm sorry, Bruce. Fuck, I- I'm so sorry." You hiccuped, throat burning. Out of all the years of knowing him, you had never seen him hesitate this bad. Behind his massive shoulders, you could still see riddler's boots stomping away, before he disappeared fully into the fog. Yet he didn't move a muscle to see where he was going, nor did he ask.
You were so stupid, just listen to him next time goddamn it. You loved him, you loved his attention, but you didn't want to be a burden on him like this!
"I'm s-" He cut you off, courtly. "It's fine. He'll come back." Despite how strange it was, Bruce made his attempts at calming you down without even realizing it himself. "We need to go, you... have a concussion." You gulped down the apologies, nodded, grimacing internally at yourself at how submissive you were under his direct order.
——————
The drive back to the Manor was even quieter than the walk to the investigation. You frowned as the thought of that dreaded walk popped up in your mind. Deciding to break the tense atmosphere and think about something else, you perked up as you finally thought of an un-clichéd beneficial conversation topic. "So- How was the investiga-" As always, he interrupted.
"Is your wrist broken? I noticed you needed some help getting into the car." The eyes that had been earlier glued to the tops of his cowl, dropped to your hand that had been forming an ugly shade of purple and blue.
"It hurts less if I don't talk about it, haha." You joked, looking over at Bruce, just to met with a stoic face. "No, no, hold the applause." You rolled your eyes, your hand gestures following your sarcasm-laced words.
“You know..." you started again, already seeing Bruce's arms visibly tense up at your tone of voice. "I thought you were the type to look at the big picture instead of the…” you laughed as you gestured to yourself, a little lost as to where your short speech was going. “little details?”
Despite your efforts to tease him, Bruce remains visibly upset. “I wouldn't go so far as call you a 'little detail.'” he gruffly responded, almost saddened by how unnerved you were from nearly becoming one of riddler's next 'riddle'. His jaw clenched at the thought, and you smiled at the edgy sentiment.
“Don’t worry, the riddler will get what he deserves eventually.” You reached up to rest your unbroken hand on his armoured shoulder.
“I know he will.” You looked at him with a reassuring smile, as reassuring as you could with your bruised face. "I believe in you, Bruce. Always have, always will."
He paused, greased eyes shifting over to you for a split second in search of sincerity within your expression. Once he found it, his heart beat a little faster, and his hands around the wheel tightened.
"You have a concussion." He grunted, looking the way opposite to your direction, pretending to look at the side view mirror. You grinned at his reaction, before retiring back into your seat. "That, I do." You sighed blissfully as you let your head fall back against the head rest, relaxing as if your wrist wasn't broken and that you couldn't feel blood trailing down the back of your head.
"Are you alright? Back there, you were apologizing." He stated, glancing over at you for a split second to make sure you weren't sleeping.
You were.
In a panic, he reached over to shake your shoulder, half-driving and half-panic-shaking you. "S/o!" His voice boomed, the car swerved you awake. "Wha- huh?" you snorted, blinking awake, as if you didn't nearly make Bruce crash the goddamn car into a building.
"Stay awake, talk to me." He huffed, ordering you with a tone he knew you usually listen to. "Oh, yeah, you asked me a question; what was it?" You asked, somewhat groggy.
"You were apologizing earlier, I want to know why." He repeated, a little tense from your scare. He could see your mouth open and close like a gaping fish, and before you could start, he spoke again, "And don't say it's because riddler got away, and you think it's your fault; it isn't. And I know it's not just that."
Again, you weren't sure if it was the concussion talking, but you feel like he doesn't normally talk this fast. Was he nervous? That doesn't seem likely. "Why did you… sound like that?" he sounded unsure; at himself, his own words, and you.
"I would tell you, but you'd just tell me that I have a concussion." You rolled your eyes.
"S/o, stop shitting around." It was clear, he was desperate for a response. It showed in his eager tone of voice. You were quiet for a moment, trying to get your empty thoughts together and organized.
"I don't know, really. I love you, I guess." You shrugged, slouching in your seat as if you hadn't just confessed to the billionaire of Gotham City.
The car screeched to a stop, launching both of you forward. Bruce slowly turned his head over to look at you, shock decorating his sharp yet soft features. "What did you just say?"
