Your one greedy girl with two boyfriends...
PETER PARK X WB!READER X JOHNNY STORM
“Come on, baby, one more smile,” Peter says, holding the camera up near your face. The three of you you, Peter, and Johnny had a wonderful day at the New York State Fair. No villains attacking, no street-level thugs causing problems. Just you and your men spending the night going on rides and carnival trips.
Johnny vomited twice after going on the Twister. “I’ll never do it again,” he swore, trailing behind like a lost dog.
“Ahh, Pete, come on, no more pictures! I look like a sweaty dog right now!” you giggled, pulling the ginormous teddy bear up to your face to hide. It was the one Johnny had won at a carny game he threw the ball so hard it burst into flames, which was apparently enough to win you the biggest prize at the stand.
Peter, of course, had been taking pictures the entire date. “It’s for my special collage,” he said. Geez, such a creep.
“Come on, it’s for the memories! Please, one smile. Maybe no smile we can do a sexy pic,” he teased with his typical smirk.
Johnny immediately jumped in. “Hey, how come you’re only taking pictures of her? Why not me? I’ve got the better physique! What do you say, four-eyes?”
Before you could even fire back, Peter groaned audibly. “And have your face mess up my film? I’d rather take pictures of dumpsters.”
Johnny’s face fell, poor baby. You patted him on the back with the teddy bear like a small support animal.
“Firefly, he’s being mean to me again! Put him in his place!” Johnny whined, hiding behind you like a scared puppy.
“Stop being mean, four-eyes!” you chirped back.
“Really? Now you’re calling me that too? You know I’m blind without these!” Peter pointed at his glasses comically thick frames with bulky black edges. He looked almost exactly like the nerd emoji. All he needed were a few freckles and some buck teeth.
“You can’t blame me, you still look like a dork. Plus, don’t you have, like, Spider-Sense? That’s like eight eyes or something.”
He rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Spider-Sense doesn’t equate to eyesight. It just means I can sense things people, places, danger. It’s like a warning sign before I—”
Peter suddenly stopped mid-sentence, freezing in place. His eyes locked on something in the distance. You followed his gaze toward a trash can, confused. There didn’t seem to be anything special about it, but Peter kept staring glaring, actually. It was the kind of glare he gave villains or when he was having a bad day.
Johnny noticed too. His playful demeanor vanished as he stepped beside Peter. Both men exchanged a look before Peter grabbed your arm.
“Sorry, bugs, but we’ve got a problem,” Peter said, his voice low and serious.
“Yeah, Firefly, we got rodents running around…” Johnny muttered.
Rodents? You didn’t see any rats. Then you looked back at the trash can and saw a tuft of brownish-black hair, spiky and uneven, with a streak of white peeking out from the side.
Now you understood.
“Bats…” you groaned, and your boys echoed the sentiment. They always managed to ruin something.
“Told you not to bring Jason! Look how big he is he’s a liability!” Damian hissed.
“Tell the brat to stop feeding the squirrels, then we’ll talk! The little fucker blew our hiding spot twice!” Dick snapped, looking ready to explode.
“Shut up, all right? We already lost them, and this place is bigger than Bruce’s beach house and the manor combined. We'll never find them again."
Dick looks around "Wait where are Tim and Duke?”
Cass, wearing a comically large toy Batman mask, mumbled, “They went on the bumper cars with Steph… and I got a soda.”
Who knew serial crime fighters could be this bad at stalking?
