#superhero!reader

[bleuesupes]

˚꩜｡linger - the cranberries !

includes! dick grayson x reader, ex-hero!reader, reader struggles with apathy if you squint, fluff, dick doubting his status as a bf?, comfort, some kissing nothing crazy, butt joke

a/n: for the pacing of the backstory I had a little young justice in mind! the reader is stated to be meta but no powers are talked about except flight. in my head i imagined someone similar to superman, but nothing's been stated! so have fun with that bit of creative freedom

wc: 1.9k

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Dick Grayson loves in a way that makes it seem like he’d always known how to. Like it was second nature. Dick Grayson loves everyone in a way unique to them. Some receive kind words. Others, a pat on the back or even a few witty remarks thrown their way. Anyone could tell you, Dick Grayson was like this with everyone. But, not with you. With you, he loves in every way he knows how. He believes that’s the least you deserve. 

From loud acts of service, gift giving, and words of affirmation… to something softer–to brushing the hair out of your face whilst you sleep, light hands that linger on your back in public, and knees that brush together when you sit side by side. Dick Grayson aspires to give you everything. It’s the least he could do.

He knows that you’ve chosen the civilian life, away from the dangers of superherodom. Even if you said it was ‘just a leave of absence’, Dick knows you. He knows you enjoy it now. After all, you have a regular family, who still calls every Friday to make sure you’re alive and kicking. Not like him, where his family jumps through the same hoops he did every midnight, stopping criminals under the moon’s eerie shadow, taking the blows that other people couldn’t— so that other people wouldn’t. He had people who counted on him to be a superhero— to be Nightwing. But, so did you. 

In your own way, you had people who counted on you to be safe. You had a family who would mourn beyond repair if you passed. You weren’t Superman. Or Batman, or even Nightwing. You’d said it yourself, “the world won’t miss me as a hero.” Perhaps, you were right. You weren’t insanely skilled like the others. You weren’t an A-class detective, or a crazy good martial artist or acrobat. In fact, you were probably the closest thing to normal a meta could get. And between you and yourself, your drive wasn’t there. You didn’t have what they did. Sure, you liked helping people. But, that only gets you so far. You didn’t have it– that selflessness to sacrifice everything, every day of your life–you just didn’t have it. 

You tried to stay with the heroes and work to their schedules. You tried to care like them, you really did. But it was draining. You didn’t know if it was joy they took in helping people the way they did. But you for sure didn’t. You thought maybe you needed a breather. Some time away from ‘the life’. Maybe it was your upbringing, your normal family. You had a life planned before you got your abilities. Before you made the decision to step out of normalcy and do something extraordinary. And maybe deep down, that plan is what made being a hero tiring. 

Besides, you thought you could help more people with your feet on the ground. Which you did. You helped the common bystander everyday. Young kids, the elderly. The ones that you would have missed from above the clouds. And it felt–normal. Now, people remember your name when you pass by. Your real name, not the nom de guerre you’d chosen for yourself so many years ago. You’ve long left the superhero's life to the professionals. The true professionals. The ones that poured their whole heart and soul into it.

You hardly speak with the people you once considered teammates, or the mentors you had. It wasn’t anything personal, of course. Just the way people grow apart with time and space. Eventually, you began leaving larger and larger pieces of that past behind— except for him.

Dick often wonders if you’ll someday let him go too. Let him go to find a normal guy. One that doesn’t somersault over rooftops every night. Or one that doesn’t track in Bludhaven’s pains with him whenever he steps into your home. He wonders if he’s too super for you, as ironic as that sounds. 

“Too super?” you chuckle, the movement making Dick’s head bop comedically up and down against your stomach. 

It’s long past midnight and the two of you find yourselves snuggly suited against each other under the same old plush blanket you brought with you from your family home. Dick had wordlessly slung through the window of your living room at the crack of dusk, asking that he spend the night. Seeing the look in his eyes as he peered down at you, how could you say no? (not that you were going to, anyways.) You’d asked him about patrol, to which he only muttered “Tim’s got it…” into your shoulder. 

You’re many things, but stupid is not one of them.

Which is how you find yourselves here. On your bed, you lay flat on your back with a single pillow under your head. Dick lays between your legs, head heavy against your stomach as his hands mindlessly fiddle with the hem of your sleep shirt. Your hands rake through his hair as he speaks, like a calming vice. After his unannounced drop-in, you knew something was up, that his mind was busy. Usually he’d call or at least leave a message or two. Dropping from your window typically wasn’t what he’d usually go for either. At least, not with your apartment. The apartment that he had a set of keys for. 

Instead of diving right into it, you decided to soothe him into the conversation. It was early enough that delivery still ran and it just so happened both of your stomachs were empty. 

It hurt you to see Dick the way he was. Distant. Almost as if he was searching for a way to bring up his thoughts without soiling your good mood. In the past, he’d hate for you to see him down. That it wasn’t like him, he’d say. That he shouldn’t bother you with whatever’s been bothering him, that you had enough to worry about. Which was silly, you told him. As a partner, it's one's unspoken duty to understand and relate to what the other’s going through and to help them grow through it. 

He chuckled at your poetic, ‘ironically altruistic’ monologue. 

You rake your hands through his hair again soothingly, prompting him to continue.

“I mean… I know you’re taking a break from… that life. But,” he inhales sharply, “But, you’re — we’re together. And I know that can’t be easy for you.”

“Dick…”

“I know you’d never ask me to leave Bludhaven behind and I know it’s not easy worrying about someone all the time. Each morning, worrying that the sun might rise without them— without me, this time.” 

“Love.”

His voice comes out in a whisper, soft and hesitant, as if telling you his thoughts would immediately make them true. He tries to speak as if he’s practiced this speech a thousand times before, but the single crack in his voice gives him away. “W…wouldn’t you want it easier? Knowing your boyfriend would be back in one piece every day?” 

When he comes to a halt, you take it as your cue. “Dick, you’re talking like a crazy person.” you sit up without so much as moving his head. “I said I was taking a break from being a superhero, not from my boyfriend.”

Dick opens his mouth to speak, but is stopped when he sees how softly your eyes peer down at him. “I know I’ve been… rather solitary after I put the team on hold. But it’s expected. The others and I, we work on a different timing now.” Dick’s moved to sit up now, his eyes hasn’t left yours since. “And between you and I, the team and I were never exactly besties.” you chuckle, remembering the awkward stages of you joining the other heroes. 

You joined far later than the rest and, if memory serves, Dick was the only one truly trusting of you (maybe due to the fact that you were previously acquainted) even after you’d proven yourself time and time again. You blamed yourself for that. You knew you never came off as the most trusting person in the world, or the most open. So truly, you couldn’t blame the others.

“But you, Dick. Nothing is going to change when it comes to you.” You search for his hands on his lap, holding them in yours. “On the job or not, I’m always going to love you the same. I’m going to continue to love you— the way you care, the way you manage to make a quip out of everything, the way you smile, and even the way you frown. You can count on that, okay?”  

He nods slowly.

“And I told you that if you ever—ever, needed me out there, I’ll be there, suited up and waiting. No question.” you raise a hand to stroke at his cheek, slightly bruised and red under your fingers. From the night prior, no doubt. 

“And for the record, I notice everything you do, Dick. The gifts, the wordless praise— all of it. I want you to know that you don’t have to prove anything to me. I wouldn’t leave you— or this. Not for anythi–!”

Dick cuts you off with the press of his lips on yours. You make a sound of surprise before leaning into it. The kiss is searing and needy. Messy and sweet. A desperate clash of teeth and tongue, like he’s been holding it back for far too long.

When your arms find their place interlaced behind his neck, the wall he’s built comes crashing down. With a sound not unlike a sob placed right against your lips, you practically feel his emotions wash over the kiss. His shoulders slump as he pulls you impossibly closer, flush against his chest. 

In the passing moments, gentle whispers of praise and I love you’s are shared in the little air between you two. Quiet groans and the sound of shuffling bounce off the walls of your bedroom and with each shared breath, it was like he was consuming you. And you, him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think your souls had opened up completely to each other and morphed into one. 

After what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, he pulls away to meet your gaze. He looks ethereal, you think. With the way your nightside lamp shines across the planes of his face, contouring the lines of his jaw and cheekbones just right, to the depth of ten oceans hidden behind his glassy eyes and to the way his lips are all red and puffed out from you sucking on them— what would ever make you want to trade him in?

Loving Dick Grayson was a road of ups, downs, twists and turns where you did acrobatics you were sure you’ve never learned before in your life. Loving him meant being patient and ready to listen to all his qualms and long awaited emotional speeches. But in return, you can count on Dick Grayson to love you in ways no one else could.

“For the record,” he mocks your previous choice of words, “I happen to like giving you love. It’s what I do best.” He wraps his arms tightly around your waist, leaning in to meet your lips again. You playfully tug him back by his collar. 

“Mmm… I dunno. You make some nice glazed buns.” 

“Me?" he doesn’t even try to fight the stupid grin forming on his face. "Or the bread?”

“Funny.” You capture his lips again. This time in a kiss much more delicate than the first. Dick lets out an adorable noise into your mouth when your hands sneak down to grope whatever flesh of his butt you could manage from his seated position below you. “‘Mm I knew it was me.” he mumbles through your repeated attacks at his bottom lip.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

a/n: sorry if its ooc again ;( consider this my writing practice. I think I might have jumped into the fanfic writing arc a bit late in life.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

THE DEVIL’S SHADOW

a/n: i have been fiddling with this most of spring, all throughout the second season of ddba... i feel so rusty writing, but i think it still turned out really cute. also, because it turned out so monster long, i zoomed through the editing part, so there might still be a few mistakes here and there, idk

summary: “look,” you whipped back at him and lashed out, “I don’t work with anyone else, and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t do it with you,” before you ripped yourself free of his grip and switched on your invisibility.

warnings: matt murdock x superhero!reader, smut, angst, hurt/comfort, rivals to lovers, reader has invisibility powers, reader's superhero name is shadow, touch starved!reader, reader is an emo queen and we love her, dark past, violence, injuries, patching up each other's wounds, alcohol consumption, slow burn, forced proximity, idiots in love, kissing, rooftop sex, clothed sex, manhandling, size kink, handjob, oral, fingering, dirty talk, edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

word count: 13.370

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The company by the name of Onyx Corp was one of the many groups, protected under the guise of being a pharmaceutical manufacturer, around the globe that had obsessively attempted to recreate the very same serum that had turned Steve Rogers into Captain America. To your knowledge, the scientists had started out with small rodents as their test subjects, but as their greed grew, so did their hunger for more complex guinea pigs, leading them to snatch up kids, mostly from seedy foster homes, just like the one you had spent the beginning of your life in.

If it hadn’t been for the stealthy nature of the power their twisted attempt awoke within you, then escape wouldn’t have been plausible, seeing as none of the other subjects got to keep on breathing once they’d fulfilled their purpose to the organisation.

You’d always been good at hiding.

Some would even argue that you were too good.

Especially after the experiments Onyx Corp ran on you, the ones that changed you on a molecular level and inevitably led you down this path of sneaking into criminals’ homes and stealing evidence from them, planting bugs, or whatever it took to make you feel less powerless in this hellish world.

Did that make you a criminal as well? Technically, you were breaking several laws… but for a good cause, so maybe that could lighten the sentence? Not that the chances of you ever getting caught were truly any of your concern. One of the few perks of your little curse. When one has the ability to turn completely invisible, it’s difficult to be linked as a suspect.

Had you been scared of it? Yes. Of course. Especially in the beginning, when you thought you were crazy for risking your life again when you were already on borrowed time. But as confidence grew and your clumsiness got under control, you became like a shadow in the city of New York. Or at least, that’s what the papers called the mysterious ghost that broke into mob hideouts and delivered evidence at the footsteps of the press.

It was a lonely life you led, although whether it was out of necessity or a preference, wasn’t a question you knew the answer to. The void was all you knew at this point, after years of hiding from the powerful people who only saw you as a liability that should have been eliminated ages ago.

But at least you had found a purpose, a small way to make the community a safer place, whether you were an active part of it or not. Even if you’d never be able to step back into the light, it still helped make the hollowness of your heart an easier burden to bear.

Holding your breath, your eyes flickered up from the lockpicks, jammed inside of the door in front of you, to peek hesitantly at the guard around the dark corner, his heavy footsteps slowly pacing up and down the long hallways outside of the district attorney’s office.

Once the door clicked open and you slipped inside, it didn’t take too long before you found what you were searching for, though as you cracked the procured folder open in your palms and began to skim through it, a thump found your ears and caused you to slam the file shut again.

Your head snapped up in the direction of the ajar doorway, only a beat passing before you heard the security guard from out in the corridor call out over the radio.

Feet rooted to the ground, your only path of escape was swiftly blocked by the blur of a scuffle, now several guards attempting to overpower an intruder dressed in deep, dark crimson.

A gasp escaped your seized-up lungs as you recognised the brutal fists of the devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

Apparently, you hadn’t been the only vigilante in New York suspicious of the crooked politician, though never in your wildest dreams did you think that Daredevil’s path would ever cross your own.

Half frozen in fear, another part of you couldn’t help but marvel at the precision of his skills, as combat had never been something you’d refined to that degree. Sure, you had tried, just in the rare case that you were ever noticed, but in no way could it compare to the whirlwind before you now.

Once everyone but the devil was unconscious on the ground, you saw as his broad, panting shoulders appeared around the corner, his hulking form slowly stepping over the threshold.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you stayed frozen in the corner, watching as he paused on his way to the desk, tilting his head a moment before it twisted in the direction of you.

“Give me the folder,” the devil demanded straight at your invisible form. Holding your breath, your eyes were the size of saucers as the infamous vigilante continued to speak, “come on, I know that you’re scared,” he tried to soften his tone as he extended a hand, “you don’t have to end up like your buddies if you just hand it over.”

Blinking hard, your neck twisted just to make sure that he was in fact speaking to you and not some person lurking in the background, “you–…you can see me?”

Cocking his head, Daredevil murmured, “w-what?”

“How?” you panted as he closed the distance between you, “I–, hey!” he promptly snatched up the folder your stunned fingers had slackened around.

“You should probably call an ambulance for the others,” he noted before turning on his heel.

Face completely muddled with confusion, you sputtered, “wha–, I don’t work here–, give that back!” you lunged to try and steal back the file.

And though you tried your hardest to keep up with the devil’s quick reflexes, the tussle that rapidly unfolded didn’t last too long before he knocked you on your ass and escaped into the dark of the night.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” you murmured just beneath your breath as soon as you found your way inside of the DA’s penthouse, the very next night, only to discover the unconscious frames of two security guards on the floor.

But before you could even draw another breath, your invisible frame was slammed up against the nearby wall, your powers flickering at the impact, revealing your form.

“Are you following me?” Daredevil grunted as his forearm held you pinned. 

Stiffening up, “me following you? In your dreams,” you gasped before attempting to give him a shove, “get off of me!”

With a faint huff, the vigilante complied, lowering his grip and taking a single step back.

“I–,” you panted as you glared back at him, “how the fuck did you manage to spot me? I mean, even with my invisibility up, I always make sure to be careful, especially after running into someone like you who can apparently see straight through all of that.”

“Invisi–,” he echoed, clearly taken aback, “wait, you’re invisible?”

“Well, yeah…” your eyes shifted as you pointed out the obvious, “or well,” concentrating a moment, you then turned your physique transparent once more, “now I am.”

Tilting his head, the devil listened closely before murmuring, “huh… so that’s what that buzzing was…”

“Buzz?”

“Yeah. It sounds like your body’s vibrating when you do that…” he pointed out the detail which your own hearing wasn’t sharp enough to be aware of, and your heartbeat began to pick up as the reality of his heightened senses dawned on you. When he parted his lips again, he almost sounded starstruck as he put the pieces together, “…you’re Shadow… the vigilante that brought down Vladimir Rozanov…”

“Uhm, yeah… I thought you figured that part out when you saw straight through the whole invisibility thing,” your feet shifted slightly beneath you, “or do I just look like any other person to you when I switch it on?”

“Well, not exactly,” he briefly pursed his lips, “I could hear you,” he then shared, “your breathing… your pulse… and what I now know is what your powers sound like.”

“Seriously?” your nerves only grew at the thought of him being capable of reading you like a book, “and here I thought you could just see me. That is so much more intimate…” heat swiftly rose in your cheeks as you realised how that must have sounded, “I mean–, uhm… so you can’t see me?”

A chuckle swiftly escaped him because of how ironic that question was if you knew the man behind the mask, “no. I can’t.”

“Well… that’s comforting, I guess…” you coughed before an awkward joke slipped out past your lips, “then again, with those kind of senses, you probably know what I had for breakfast this morning–”

“Sourdough toast with butter, a sharp cheddar and half a pickle,” he slowly took a single step closer as he actually answered your jest, “although all I can really focus on right now is the chocolate bar you were gobbling down on your way here.”

“I–…” your eyes flickered across his partially obscured features as you stood completely frozen in front of him.

When he finally began to back away from you, he didn’t stray too far from your orbit, only shifted slightly as he did a half turn and parted his lips again after a beat of silence had consumed the space between you,  “well, I guess an apology might be in order, seeing as I didn’t realise who you were and just took that file from you…”

Swallowing hard, you found the courage to speak to the devil once more, “that and how you swooped in like a fucking hurricane, nearly killing everyone.”

“Wow, wow, I didn’t kill anyone,” he swiftly shot back, his palm drifting up defensively.

“Maybe not, but you did beat them half to death,” you gestured to the unconscious security guards, lying like rugs on the floor.

“What, are you seriously gonna stand here like a pot calling the kettle black?”

“I don’t hurt anyone unless I have to,” you pointed out, “and even then, I don’t black out until they’re basically pulp.”

Letting out a sigh, Daredevil twisted his body further away from you till his silhouette caught the moonlight streaming in through the windows, “alright…” his hands came to rest on his hips, “…well, I was gonna suggest lending you a hand tonight, seeing as we’re obviously after the same thing, but sure, if you instead wanna just stand there and critique me, go right ahead.”

A scoff left your lungs faster than your eyebrows managed to soar up towards the sky, “you help me? Please. I don’t need your help, much less want it,” you crossed your arms heatedly.

Pursing his lips, he simply uttered, “suit yourself, then…” before you watched him saunter over to the plush armchair in the corner and drop down into it, his feet swiftly swinging up upon the coffee table as his fingers interlaced behind his head.

A sharp huff escaped you as you stared back at him, momentarily stunned by his audacity, before muttering, “asshole…” which only made the petty devil smirk, although that wasn’t a reaction you managed to spot before you turned on your heel and began to search the place.

Trying your best to ignore the comments the other vigilante occasionally threw out simply to get on your nerve, your eyes nearly rolled out of your skull by the time that you eventually found the hidden safe in the study.

And when a curse left your lungs as you struggled to unlock it, or even track down some clue as to what the combination was, the devil suddenly appeared over your shoulder, his low voice tickling the shell of your ear as he asked teasingly, “you sure you don’t need my assistance?”

“Unless you can crack a fucking safe, then no,” you begrudgingly admitted defeat, “we might as well just leave.”

To which Daredevil simply smirked and told you to step aside. You stood utterly dumbfounded beside him as he just walked up and began to twist the lock, his other palm flat against the safe as he listened closely as the springs inside virtually bent to his will.

And as the only sound that echoed throughout the office was the dull clicks of the lock beneath the devil’s touch, you let your stare drift down over his silhouette. From the stubbly jaw that poked out of the bottom of his mask, to the way his suit moulded against his broad frame, your eyes didn’t snap away till his voice suddenly found your ears.

“You okay?” he briefly paused as he fought a blooming smirk.

“Of course,” you coughed, forcing your vision upon anything else, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your adrenaline’s high…” he gave you the benefit of the doubt, even though he had picked up on how your heart was still nearly thumping out of your chest, and not because of any nerves.

You couldn’t help but chalk his comment up to just yet another jab at your capability, which promptly sent you crashing down onto earth with a huff, “I’m fine.”

When the safe finally clicked open, and Daredevil picked up the thumb drive resting atop the stack of cash inside, your fingers swiftly snatched it up before you spun around and turned on the computer on the desk behind you.

“What’s on it?” the devil asked as he slowly wandered to the other side of the desk, looming behind the monitor as your eyes briefly strayed from the screen to glance up at him.

“Well, let’s see…” your eyes narrowed as you opened up the contents, “…at least enough evidence that he was in cahoots with a–, uh, William Rawlins,” you carefully read the name out loud, “do you have any idea who that is?”

“Yeah, a bit,” he tilted his head, “he’s CIA, but not the good kind.”

Opening up another document, you skimmed through it and uttered, “…says they’re overseeing some sort of weapon development for an unsanctioned military operation.”

“A weapon? What kind?”

“Doesn’t say, it just says–…” your fingers on the mouse then suddenly froze, a small gasp too slipping from your lips as your eyes landed upon a familiar name that had haunted you for years.

“What? What did you find?” the devil shifted his stance, waiting for you to share what discovery you’d stumbled upon. But as not a single word escaped you and the terror taking over your soul became the only thing thumping in his perceptive ears, the vigilante slowly inched closer, drifting to the corner of the desk as he kneeled down beside your panicking form and softened his tone, “Shadow, what is it?”

Hyperventilating as you fought to tear your wide eyes away from the font glowing on the screen, you eventually managed to utter, “…it’s nothing,” before you rapidly pulled out the thumb drive and turned off the computer, “there’s nothing on here.”

But as you got up and tried to slip past the devil as he straightened up as well, he managed to catch your elbow, “wait–”

“Look,” you whipped back at him and lashed out, “I don’t work with anyone else, and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t do it with you,” before you ripped yourself free of his grip and switched on your invisibility.

It was a sudden downpour which had drawn you into the random bar by the name of Josie’s for shelter. And with the dark storm that had already been brewing inside of you, since the moment you had discovered that the mission you were on had actually been bringing you right back home all along, you swiftly found yourself ordering drink after drink to try and numb the pain. Though alcohol wasn’t the wisest choice, you weren’t in a position to be picky about how you got to tend to your wounds.

When your third shot of tequila burned in your throat and the small glass slammed back down against the bar top, the front door to the establishment swung open and in flooded a jovial trio, drenched from the rain.

“Matt, you gotta promise me, man,” you overheard one of the suit-clad men say to the other one that held onto his elbow as a guide inside, the cane in his palm only resting there instead of tapping the ground, “this is the last time you were late for court.”

Slipping off her dripping coat, the blonde woman piped up as well, “I’d like to add in, not just for court, but other engagements in general as well.”

“Hey, hey, we won the case, didn’t we?” the blind man, they called Matt, replied with a playful grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind his tinted glasses, “or are we not here for celebratory drinks?”

A shiver trickled down your spine at the familiar sound of that low timbre, making you glance over your shoulder as the group crossed the room to reach the pool table towards the back of the establishment.

“Just because you can charm your way through an improvised closing argument doesn’t mean that’s how our firm’s standards should be,” you heard the floppy-haired man point out.

“Yeah, at least for the sake of our sanity,” the woman tilted her head, “I mean, this is probably the fourth time I thought Foggy was gonna have a heart attack right then and there in the courtroom.”

Shrugging off his jacket, Matt threw up his hands, “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll do better, I promise.”

“Hmm…” the man, presumably by the name of Foggy, narrowed his eyes at his friend as he reached for one of the sticks on the wall, grabbing one for the woman as well, “I’ll believe it when I see it…”

“Well, how about this for a start,” Matthew loosened his tie slightly and began to roll up the sleeves of his pale blue shirt, “I’ll pay for all of the drinks tonight, huh?”

His two pals then exchanged a playful glance and crossed their arms, before each of their eyes returned to the blind lawyer, “…make it top shelf and maybe we’ll consider it.”

The alcohol certainly didn’t help matters as you put the pieces together and promptly began to panic.

You knew who that voice belonged to…

Freezing up, it took everything in your power not to instinctively turn invisible as he wandered up to the other end of the bar and ordered a round of drinks, even trying to hold your breath till he disappeared once again with glasses in his hands.

The man behind the devil mask was a lawyer? Why was he pretending to be blind? And most importantly, why in the world was he here?

You didn’t believe in coincidences, certainly not when it came to people like you and him… the only logical explanation must have been that he had seen you come in and followed after with the intent of stealing back the thumb drive that was still burning a hole in your pocket, purely out of paranoia to leave it in your slummy apartment, so that he could push you out of the way and do the job himself.

Your terror soon melted into rage as you watched the trio from afar, silently seething as they played a game of pool, joking and laughing, the devil even playing up his cover and asking the tall blonde for assistance on finding the right angle to shoot his shot.

So by the time they began to set up for a second game, and you watched Matt excuse himself to go to the lavatory, your feet acted of their own accord as you suddenly found yourself storming across the room, and catching the bathroom door before he managed to slam it shut behind him.

Pushing your way inside, your fingers swiftly twisted the lock before pushing the object of your ire up against the tile wall.

“Why the fuck are you following me?” you snarled, your fists buried in his shirt as your heated pants fanned across his face.

“Fuck–,” a faint chuckle broke up his gasp at the impact, “I thought you’d at least let me take a leak first,” he croaked, your presence clearly not coming as a surprise to him.

“Answer the goddamn question, Daredevil,” you spat, your face inching in close to his own, “or do you prefer to be called something else, counsellor?”

“Christ, I’m not following you!” he swore, before his own hands came up and flipped you around with ease, promptly trading places and pinning you against the wall instead, “I always go to this bar, something you’d probably know if you were stalking me,” the lawyer accused.

“Oh, get over yourself!” you fumed, “I’m trying to stay away from you, not worm my way into your weird little charade of a life, which I must say, the fake blind thing is very extreme just to make people not suspicious of what you do at night.”

A scoff then bubbled in his throat, “I’m not.”

“Yeah, right,” you rolled your eyes, “there’s no way you would be able to do all of that if you were blind,” you then snatched off his tinted glasses, though instead of confirming your accusations, the brown eyes that were revealed beneath didn’t meet your own stare, promptly causing your brows to knit together in confusion.

“Well…” Matt exhaled slowly, “…sight is overrated.”

Blinking back at him a second, it took you a moment to utter, “…so your freaky senses, how you could hear my heartbeat and shit, that’s how you see?” still completely stunned by the revelation.

“That’s certainly one way to put it, yeah,” he tilted his head.

As you then felt his grip on you loosen, though he did let go, his feet didn’t shift an inch, still rooted close enough to you for goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

Letting out a low sigh, you eventually uttered as your gaze stayed locked upon him, “…I’m not giving you the thumb drive.”

“Alright,” he murmured in a calm yet cocky tone, “I’ll manage.”

“No, what I mean is that you need to drop this and let me be the one to handle it, alone,” you pointed out, a heated breath huffing out of your nostrils.

“Why?”

“Just because–… look,” you seethed, momentarily squeezing your eyes shut, “this job, it’s personal for me, okay? I don’t want you fucking it all up,” your eyes flickered open once more to glare back at him, “so please just go back out there to your little girlfriend and stay the hell out of my way.”

“The fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay away!” you hissed in a hushed tone when none other than the devil of Hell’s Kitchen snuck up on you as you lurked outside of Onyx Corp’s old headquarters, scoping out the rundown place from the shadows in hopes of finding a way inside past the guards that wandered the grounds of the abandoned building.  

“I know,” he simply answered, his tone calm as opposed to your own.

His ego truly must have been as big as you assumed, seeing as he couldn’t let himself stay out of your hair and complete the job all on your own.

And with your paranoid thoughts dragging you further down into your own personal hell, you swiftly heard yourself growl, “please, just go.”

But instead of turning on his heel, the devil just settled in against the chain-link fence, his burly arms folding across his chest.

A long sigh slipped from your lungs as you bowed your head in defeat, “I don’t have time for this… if you’re not gonna leave, then please just stay out of my way, okay? And if I can’t stop you from going in there as well, then just don’t act like an idiot around the place. They had to close down this location a few years back after a quote on quote chemical accident, but seeing as there are still a fair bit of guards posted about the perimeter, they probably haven’t found a way to safely clean it yet,” you impatiently told him, “so if you run into a blue and potent substance, do not get into contact with it, okay?”

“Aw…” a smirk then blossomed on his lips, “is that concern I hear in your voice?”

“No!” you shot him a glare, “I just don’t wanna be blamed for killing Daredevil.”

“Matt,” he suddenly corrected you.

“What?”

“My name, and the other person you would hypothetically be killing,” he leaned in slightly to utter, “Matthew Murdock.”

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you simply grumbled, “yeah, I know what your name is.”

“Then why don’t I know yours yet?”

Letting out a sigh, “I don’t have time for this…” you then switched on your powers and slipped through the nearby hole in the fence.

Though it took a bit of finesse, you managed to sneak past the various guards and into the old headquarters, the very same place where you were held captive as a child.

A chill ran down your spine as you stepped inside the musty building, and paralysing memories flashed within your mind.

“Hey, you alright?” Matthew’s voice then suddenly echoed from behind you, ripping you enough out of your terror to shift your feet across the floor once more.

Avoiding his question, you instead accused, “did you beat up those guards just to follow me in here?”

“No, they’re fine, I tried to do it your way,” you heard him say, though still couldn’t help but imagine the degrading things he stopped himself from adding, how he thought your method of doing things was surely idiotic compared to his own brutal one, “you didn’t answer my question.”

The silence in the room drew out before you finally answered him with a low sigh, “…it’s Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n,” before you strayed from his side and disappeared into the office directly to the right, swiftly tearing open the closest file cabinet before you could spot the faint smile on Matthew’s lips.

When he followed you into the room, your search went on for a while without any success before any of you uttered another word.

“So…” the devil eventually broke the silence, “tell me again why you’re looking through whatever’s left in here instead of just sneaking your way into Onyx Corp’s new building?”

“Because, firstly,” you muttered as you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “they’ve built precautions in case someone like me tries to waltz in or out of there. They’ve used those for years, whether it’s as collars to keep subjects under control or if it’s on a larger scale, devices that essentially block off entire areas,” your body tensed at the traumatic memories that still lived on under your skin, “and secondly, even if I did find a way inside, that office wouldn’t be the right one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that after this place shut down, they received too much of the wrong attention, so then, when they rebuilt, they split themselves up into separate locations. The official office, showcasing the polished front of a pharmaceutical powerhouse, and the secret lab, where they develop chemical weapons and test on innocent people, which I’ve been trying for years, but still haven’t been able to track down.”

“And so, you think that maybe the address is somewhere in here?”

“What, do you have a better idea, counsellor?” you swiftly turned to glare at him.

“I mean, I don’t have powers like you–, unless my heightened senses also triggers whatever alarm or trap or what they’ve got rigged in there,” his hand gestured alongside his words.

“It wouldn’t,” you uttered coldly and turned back to the files you were thumbing through, “you got your abilities in a–, different way than me, so you’d be fine.”

His body continued to stay twisted towards you as you soon heard him speak once more, “…how do you know so much about all of this?”

“What do you mean?” your back stayed turned to him, “I do my research for these types of things, don’t you? Or do you just go in there and swing your fists, hoping that you hit the people that deserve it?”

“I just mean that you know a lot,” his jaw clenched at your verbal jab, “your sources must be incredible.”

“They are,” you shot back at him coldly, keeping your guard up.

As the morning grew closer, and you began to run out of stones to turn, the two of you hit a dead end.

Perhaps it was your own stubbornness, straining yourself and keeping up your invisibility long enough for a migraine to begin to throb within your head, simply to somehow prove the speculated assumptions of the other vigilante wrong, but the traumatically nostalgic surroundings you still found yourself in certainly didn’t help matters either.

“Hey…” Matthew then paused and twisted towards your frame, “…you good?”

Cracking your tense neck with a sigh, you muttered, “why wouldn’t I be?”

And with a faint nod of his head, he pointed out, “you’re bleeding.”

It wasn’t till now that you felt the crimson that slowly leaked out of your left nostril, your touch swiftly drifting up to check. It wasn’t the first time that your body had complained about you straining your abilities till you were stretched too thin, but at least this time the consequences wasn’t anything you couldn’t power through, “it’s nothing…” you attempted to downplay it as you wiped the blood away, though the devil on the other side of the room didn’t stop looking concerned, “I’m fine!” you swiftly snapped, “it’s just a nosebleed. The air in here is fucking dry or whatever.”

And with a reply on the tip of his tongue, Matt instead swallowed it and simply uttered, “okay…”

But as he then turned back to continue the search, his head soon twisted before he took a sharp detour into the hallway. Directly on the other side of the threshold, he then kneeled down and picked up a small chain with some rusty dog tags dangling on the end.

Slipping off one of his gloves, he caught the metal and gently brushed his thumb over the raised letters on it.

“Y/n Y/l/n…” he read out loud, the sound of your name causing you to freeze as you turned to spot what it was that he had found. Tilting his head in your direction, the puzzle of your past began to fall into place, “you–… this really is personal for you, isn’t it?”

You’d completely forgotten that you’d lost it back in the chaos of your escape, “…they made us wear those just to be able to tell us kids apart…” you bowed your head.

Slowly rising to his feet once more, he uttered, “so this is how you got your powers? How you became Shadow? You were a test subject?”

“Well, I didn’t wish upon a fucking star…” you exhaled slowly, “…do you get it now? Why I need to be the one to take these fuckers down?”

“And here I thought I’d finally gotten rid of you,” the words left your lips as soon as you saw Matthew show up in your periphery again the very next night, “don’t you have a better way to spend your Friday night?”

A faint smile twitched at the corner of his lip as he came to a stop beside you in the dark alley, “nope.”

“Really? You’d rather be slumming it with me yet again, breaking into some CIA idiot’s home, instead of going on some hot date with your little girlfriend?”

“What?” the devil nearly laughed.

“The leggy blonde you played pool with at the bar.”

“Ah, yeah, no. Karen’s just a friend,” he shook his head as a playful smile finally broke through and bloomed on his lips, “so I’m sorry, you’re out of luck, there’s no girlfriend to spend my Friday nights with, so I guess you’re stuck with me instead.”

You climbed up onto the fire escape in order to break into Rawlins’ apartment, and though Matthew was tall enough to jump up and catch the ladder, your frame had to be boosted up, a detail you prayed he wouldn’t revel in too much.

Since the CIA agent was tangled in the mess you were trying to sort out, your mission had led you here to his home, to hunt down a keycard to gain access to the inner sanctum of the Onyx Corporation, where hopefully the answers would be within reach, even if it came at a grievous price.

The pursuit, however, for the keycard wasn’t as fruitful as you’d hoped, as it wasn’t even hidden away in the personal safe Matt cracked open in his bedroom.

And even though you had been careful and made sure the agent wouldn’t be home this night, the front door still cracked open before the two of you were able to clear out.

“Fuck–,” you scrambled a moment before you made a split decision and shoved the devil into the nearby closet as footsteps began to echo out in the hall, slipping your own body inside as well before quietly yanking the door closed behind you.

Your face stayed twisted towards the door, listening intently to the murmured voices that reverberated throughout the apartment. It wasn’t till you finally shifted your neck and looked back at Matt that you realised just how tight the closet actually was. Your body was plastered against his, standing so near that your noses nearly brushed against one another when he tilted his head to listen closely. You could feel his breath fan across your cheeks, causing them to heat up as your own pants began to pick up. In the low light, you couldn’t help but stare as he concentrated.

Your head was spinning by the time your gaze dropped to his lips. You hadn’t been this close to someone else in a very long time, and seeing as your senses were that starved, your body couldn’t help but react, which soon caught the devil’s attention, distracting you both long enough to get caught when the closet doors suddenly swung open.

It wasn’t just Rawlins that had come home early for a brief pitstop till his night continued, but a few of his military brats were waiting by the door as well, making the fight that promptly broke out a little less fair.

In the beginning of the struggle, Rawlins’ jacket flung off his shoulders as Matt tried to grab him, but as the coat crashed to the ground, his wallet tumbled out of the pocket and slid across the floor. And with the hopes that the keycard was hidden in there the whole time, you swiftly went invisible, hoping you’d be able to avoid the many opponents as you rushed to snatch it up.

But just as you managed to grab it and it flipped open to reveal the very item you needed to steal, one of the foes saw the floating wallet and tackled you to the ground, knocking the air clean out of your lungs, the blow causing you to lose your grip on both the item and your invisibility, the wallet promptly tumbling from your flickering fingers.

And when all hope seemed lost, and Rawlins had called in reinforcements, more folks storming in through the front door by the second, you felt Matthew grab you before you could even think, as there was no other option but to flee from the fight.

Bloodied and panting, it wasn’t easy to escape up onto the rooftop. In the haze of it all, you weren’t even sure how you managed it at all.

But just before you could yell at him for dragging you up onto a dead end, the devil pulled out his billy clubs, twisted one of the handles, and flung across the night sky for the cord in between to extend and the far and to tangled itself around something in the distance like a grappling hook. Wrapping his arm tightly around your waist, he didn’t offer you a warning before you both went soaring, your fretful eyes not daring to peek back open before you felt your boots land on the next rooftop over.

Your lungs burned as you kept on running, swinging from building to building till you couldn’t even spot the one you’d fled from any longer as you glanced over the glinting horizon.

“Damn it–,” you cursed when you finally slowed down to catch your breath on a rooftop, “I almost had it!”

Breathlessly, Matt only grinned at your frustration before he dripped his fingers into a pocket and uttered, “you mean this?” as he held up the keycard.

Eyes widening in disbelief, you panted, “how did you–”

“You’re not the only one who can be sneaky,” he smirked before you snatched it out of his grasp to look at it closely.

“Oh my god…” a soft smile appeared on your lips as you stared down at the small card, “I can’t believe we did it…”

“We?” Matthew’s head cocked slightly as he echoed.

A breath caught in your throat as your eyes flickered up from the keycard to blink back at him, “…maybe–, maybe, we aren’t such a bad team after all…” you admitted, tugging the card into a pocket of your black cargo pants as the man across from you on the rooftop simply smirked as you finally began to soften up, “…look…” you hesitated, your gaze averting, “…I know I said that I wanted to work alone, and I know that you hate me, but–”

“Hold up,” Matt swiftly interrupted, “you think I hate you?”

Glancing up towards the stars above, your arms briefly raised in an exhausted shrug, “well, what other explanation is there?”

But instead of answering you, Matt instead just stood there for a second, before he slowly closed the distance between you both, grabbed your face and leaned in to press his lips against your own.

You were nearly too stunned to react as he stole your breath away. It wasn’t till he pulled back slightly and the whole city froze for a moment around you, his palms still cradling your jaw as you blinked up at him, that you finally found your footing.

And when you raised yourself back up to kiss him once again, your touch drifting up to rest against his bent arms, you felt his lips smile against your own.

The simple kiss, however, swiftly spun out of control.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline that still pumped in your veins from the fight that was to blame for when it exploded, and you found yourself pushing Matt up against the nearby brick wall as you made out.

Perhaps it was your loneliness that was at fault, as you eagerly let him pluck your body up off the ground, and your thighs wrapped around his hips, a faint whimper crawling up your throat and vibrating against Matt’s tongue as your core pressed against him, your throbbing cunt promptly clenching around nothing as his gloved grip dug into your ass and drew you even closer to his growing hardness.

It had been ages since you’d been touched like this, so naturally it would have probably felt this amazing no matter who it was that satisfied that deprived urge… right?

Your hips rocked down against his own as you made out, his hold on you too grinding your core feverishly against his. As he twisted around for your spine to now instead be pressed up against the brick, your fingers grasped his stubbly jaw and hazily strayed up to claw against the sides of his helmet.

Soon you were both so riled up, the sloppy kisses and heavy petting only scratching the itch just enough to drive you mad, your fingers desperately shot down between your bodies to reach the tent in his pants. Straying from your lips, the devil let out a low groan as your palm brushed against his hardness in your frantic mission to free it. Bowing your head, your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to tug at his belt without much success, but luckily, before a pout could find your lips, Matthew got the message and readjusted his grip on you, balancing you with just a single arm, as his free one reached down to undo his pants for you, his swift fingers flicking open the complicated suit effortlessly.

That same wide palm then drifted up to brush against your blushing cheek as you let yourself blink down at the fat cock that sprang out, your mouth agape as your impatient fingers wrapped around the girth, though you only got to gawk a second longer before he tilted your chin and reunited his lips with your own.

“Fuck,” he panted into your mouth as your touch slowly twisted up and down his throbbing length. Dropping his hand back down near his other beneath your ass, he shifted his grip on you, juggling you like a toy in his grasp, to let himself nearly tear your black pants in two as he ripped them down just barely low enough for your soaked panties to be revealed.

Though as he yanked that drenched cotton to the side, before he even got the chance to touch you at all, you tilted his cock in your grasp, angling it for the tip of him to slide against you instead.

But even as you began to rub his head against your clit, his own palm didn’t stray yet, but instead rested over your own as your dripping pussy soaked him, and didn’t wander till your patterns grew more zealous, angling further south to your drooling hole. And as you rubbed him against your entrance, his gloved fingers dragged over your puffy pearl, though only for a moment before soaring up to his lips, his teeth hastily tearing the one glove off and letting it drop to the ground beneath you, for his touch to then reunite with you without any barrier.

“Oh my god,” your eyes fluttered as he drew slow, firm circles over you, “don’t stop–”

Bowing his head to kiss along your neck, a devilish smirk flashed across his face, “yeah? You like that, Shadow?” he let himself revel in your euphoria.

“Shut up,” a whine vibrated in your throat, “just don’t stop,” you mumbled as you then slipped the very tip of him inside of you.

A breathless moan escaped the both of you when your warm walls finally clung around him. Re-adjusting your grasp on his broad shoulders, joining your hand with the one still locked around his neck, his fingers continued the careful pattern over your clit as you slowly, and shallowly, began to lower yourself down upon him. Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt his forehead tilt back up to rest against your own, panting into each other’s mouths as you gradually stretched yourself out on his cock.

He didn’t stop touching you till you were whimpering in his arms and trying to bounce on his dick. Your legs trembled on either side of him as he then dug his grasp into the plush of your ass and began to move you, his own hips too bucking up to meet the desperate movements as he fucked you.

It was all just a haze of heated pants, curses and moans melting and mixing with the wet, sloppy noises of his cock splitting you open, with the night noises of the city around you only a mere memory in the background.

Not long passed before you came undone on his fat cock, your powers momentarily flickering as you writhed in his arms, and your cunt fluttered around his girth, pushing him over the edge as well.

His face stayed buried in the crook of your neck, catching his breath, as you both stayed frozen in each other’s arms, your poor pussy nearly choking him to death as his cock remained inside of you, but neither one of you dared to speak or even move an inch.

But when you finally did, it was slow as you began to peel yourselves away from one another. He began by carefully lowering your one leg, though as it shakily reunited with the flat rooftop below, you failed to stifle a groan as his cock slipped out of you.

You could barely look at him as you realised the line you’d just crossed, or more like set on fucking fire, silently panicking as you scrambled to cover back up.

Tugging your panties back over your messy pussy, you promptly clenched around nothing as you felt his hot load begin to leak out of you and ruin your underwear even further.

And when a hesitant squeak finally found its way to your lips, “that–…” your eyes stayed averted, even as your words faded.

Tilting his head, a smirk bloomed on Matt’s face, “yeah?” he uttered as the single word that had bubbled up your throat hadn’t yet made him doubt the rest of your pending sentence.

“…was such a mistake…” you apprehensively finished, eyes still glued to the ground, “we can’t–… we can’t let it happen again.”

Sucking in a sharp breath as his smile faded from his lips, on his exhale, Matt murmured, “…right…you beat me to it…”

“I mean,” you finally glanced up at the man in front of you, “it was just the adrenaline of it all that got to us,” your head nodded slowly as you tried to convince yourself.

“Mhm,” he hesitantly hummed, barely moving at all as he listened.

“So, we should just forget it ever happened and move on.”

His broad chest then shifted slowly beneath his suit as his lungs filled up with oxygen, letting your words settle in his soul before he agreed with a quiet, “…okay.”

“Get up.”

Arms crossed tightly over your chest, your invisibility faded just as you kicked the bedframe.

“What the–,” Matt swiftly shot awake, the slumber still muddled on his face as he initially jerked in alarm till he realised who exactly it was that had snuck into his apartment, “what are you doing here?”

But instead of answering his question, you just huffed impatiently, “we gotta go, come on.”

“Wha–,” he pushed himself up to a sitting position, “what time is it?”

“Four in the morning,” you briefly glanced down at the watch on your wrist, “which means we’re already running late, so let’s go.”

Letting out a low exhale, “okay…” he tore off the covers and begrudgingly swung his legs over the side of the bed, “is it a surprise or are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

Standing a little taller, you informed him in a clear tone, “I got a lead,” and tried your best to ignore his state of undress, how, even in the low light pouring in from the windows, you could make out the scars starched across his bare chest, one even dipping down below the black boxers that clung around his hips.

But his expression didn’t perk up at your news as his dark brows only furrowed faintly, “…you know you could have just called me about this, right?”

“Didn’t have your number,” you shrugged. Tearing your eyes away from him, you ripped open your dark backpack, “put this on,” you ordered after you’d tossed a faded blue uniform at him.

“Uhh… no thanks?” he cocked an eyebrow as he peeled it off of his shoulder where it had landed and held it in his palm, “I’ve got my own clothes, ones that don’t reek of industrial cleaning products.”

Exhaling sharply, your jaw clenched, “look, I know that you just woke up, but some of us haven’t slept at all yet and have instead stayed up just to string this whole plan together,” you fished out a white undershirt as well for him.

“And are you gonna share it with me or what?” he asked before being hit in the face with the tank top.

“I will when you put that fucking uniform on,” your hands landed on your hips as you waited a tense moment before he rolled his eyes pettily, yet finally complied. And as you watched him change right in front of you instead of shifting to somewhere more private, you began to tell him, “every morning at five, the janitorial staff at Onyx Corp shows up for work. One of said staff members is now missing a uniform, and has magically had their schedule tampered with, giving them a day off,” you tilted your head, “so you’re gonna show up instead, slip in with the crowd, use the keycard, sneak into the CEO, Richard Weiss’ office and steal his personal laptop. All the info we’re missing should be on that thing.”

“Okay…” he drew out a breath as he moulded over your plan, “or, I mean, I’m a lawyer, why couldn’t I just walk in there as myself, make up some legal bullshit or something–, ouch!” his offhand suggestion halted as you promptly smacked his shoulder.

“And have you then be added to their radar for sniffing where you shouldn’t, have them hunt you down till you’re dead? Believe it or not, I am trying to protect you, you idiot,” you growled as you plucked the last few items out of your bag, a baseball cap and a pair of plain sunglasses, and shoved them into his lap, “so could you at least not be a fucking dumbass about it and just say thank you?”

The sun was slowly rising as you sat, cloaked by your powers, on the roof of the opposing building to the Onyx Corporation’s official headquarters, and watched from afar as Matthew successfully slipped inside among the small morning crowd of workers.

The large structure in the middle of the city was mostly made up of wide windowpanes, making it easier for you to track the disguised lawyer as he made his way through the fishbowl, although it still didn’t help calm the terror that wrecked your body.

Being this close was frankly one of the most reckless things you’d ever done. If anyone saw you, if you let your invisibility so much as just flicker, you’d be a dead woman.

But when you saw Matthew inside covertly reach his destination, the keycard working as he slipped inside of the CEO’s office, when the laptop was under his arm and he pushed the door open once more to exit, a pair of guards caught him red-handed and a fight promptly broke out.

Your hope, however, faded rapidly as it didn’t take long before more security was alerted and piled on the vigilante. But even then, you still tried to stay optimistic, having witnessed first-hand the dreadful messes Daredevil was capable of getting out of on his own.

But when his form was pinned to the ground by enough people that he stood no chance, and the door on the opposite end of the floor swung open, revealing the bone-chilling visage of the boss himself, slowly marching down to the wreckage on full display through the agape doors of his office, you were then left with no choice on what to do next.

You held onto your invisibility for as long as possible, but after you’d only taken a few steps inside of the building, a sharp and sudden pain began to throb within your head, drawing a groan from your trembling body as you tried not to scream as it nearly felt like something was trying to crush your skull, your powers promptly began to flicker.

Trying to fight against it and somehow attempt to keep your cloaking up, it kept on flickering as you rushed to the stairwell.

You were panting and dizzy by the time you reached the top, though it wasn’t because of the numerous steps. Blood trickling out of your nose, your hand shook violently as you reached for the doorknob, your eyes landing on it as your powers kept on flashing, and you waited till your palm disappeared once more, hopefully timing it just right as you pushed the door open to dip into the hallway and enter the chaos.

Passing the janitorial cart he had pushed around to keep up his cover, your hands swiftly seized the mop that stuck out of it, and as your stomping feet dragged you closer to the fray, you swung the mop like a golf club, striking the guards pinning Matt to the floor.

Though, as you freed him, the long handle of the mop splintering in the process, your powers faltered once more, revealing your form to everyone in the office, including the very man who had once fooled the innocent little orphanage you used to be, condemning you to an adolescence of torture, the one and only, Richard Weiss, head of Onyx Corps.

“Well… if it isn’t our little Shadow, come back home at last…” he nearly chuckled as his stare held you frozen in terror, “should have known you were the troublemaker behind all of this.”

And though Matthew’s fists began to swing again as soon as he was able, it didn’t take long for him to conclude that you were severely outnumbered. It didn’t matter that the laptop wasn’t in the possession of either of you, at this point, your lives mattered more.

But when Matt’s attempts failed, you decided to try something, even though you were barely hanging on any longer, it was almost like an instinct kicked in and you grabbed Matthew’s hand in yours, somehow turning him invisible as well, just long enough for your initial escape to become possible.

But as soon as you got out of dodge, slipping into the elevator, you let go of his wide palm and your powers flickered out once more.

Both of you were panting and hunched over as Matthew stayed busy, reached over to hit the emergency button, stopping the elevator, before his body elongated, briefly jumping up to pop open the latch at the top.

It wasn’t till his fingers laced together and he waited for you to bend your knee and let him boost you up first, that he slowed down enough to notice just how beaten you were.

Though you had previously experienced these waves in the more compact package of the collars Onyx Corp used to control their test subjects with, it was something else entirely to try and be submerged inside an area protected by the same rays, and on top of that, attempting to fight against it, torturing your body that much further.

There wasn’t just blood dripping out of your nose, but your ears, the corner of your mouth, and even your eyes as well.

“Y/n, are you–,” worry twisted Matthew’s low timbre in a way you didn’t think possible.

“I’m fine,” you tried to dismiss through your pained whimper, “I just need to catch my breath,” you clutched the steel wall, “you go up first, I’m right behind you.”

Although he hesitated a moment, he eventually did as you wished, pulling himself up through the narrow latch and groaning lowly as the strain tore at the injuries he himself had sustained. But when his arm shot back down to pull you up as well, your body finally gave out when he’d lifted you up to join him in the elevator shaft, and the world faded to black.

It was full daylight by the time you stirred, though you weren’t on the roof of the elevator any longer, not even inside that horrific building anymore, as it finally felt as if you were able to breathe again. It was instead Matthew’s apartment that met your hazy gaze as soon as your eyes fluttered open.

Squinting a moment at the bright light pouring in through the tall windows, you realised that you were lying in his bed, the very same one he had been resting in when you’d disrupted his slumber earlier that day.

For a moment, you thought you were all alone till your neck twisted to the right and you saw the man further into the depths of the apartment, sitting at the humble dining table. He was shirtless, with only the glint of a cross necklace resting against his pecs as he patched himself up. And as you felt yourself begin to breathe more easy at the discovery that you hadn’t woken up to any imminent danger, you let yourself relax, and for a flash, stare at Matthew before any of your guards could shoot up and hinder you from taking in the vision his half-naked and bloodied form, quietly groaning as he concentrated on his stitches, the whole display making your heart beat louder, though not in your chest, but between your thighs.  

Tilting his head suddenly, the needle in Matt’s fingers paused as he noticed you were finally awake, “hey,” a soft smile appeared on his lips.

“What happened?” you asked weakly in a hoarse tone.  

“You passed out,” he paused his patching up, carefully tearing the thread on the needle before he had finished all of the stitches.

“I did?” your brows furrowed as you tried to recall, hazily attempting to sit up, only realising now that you were still clad in the same black, utilitarian outfit as before, blood-soaked and torn from the fight.

“Whoa, whoa, no,” Matt hastily rushed to your side, “your stubborn ass essentially just tried to power your way through a meatgrinder, so lay back down.”

“God, I’m fine,” you tried to push away his palms as they came to rest against your shoulders.

“No, you’re not,” he uttered firmly.

“Matt–”

“Jesus! Would you just shut up for a second and let me help you?”

Your eyes snapped up to his worried expression as he raised his voice, and you finally gave in, carefully lowering back down upon the pillow.

Blinking up at him a moment as his broad, bare shoulders relaxed once more, his feet staying glued beside the bedframe as he loomed above your horizontal form, you then asked, “how did I get out of there?”

Drawing in a breath, he shared, “well, I carried you,” as if it was the obvious answer.

“You should have just left me,” your head began to shake faintly as you squeezed your eyes shut, “it would have been safer if you were–”

“You risked your life coming in to save me,” he interrupted you, “so this just makes us even.”

Eyes fluttering back open, your chest slowly rose and fell as you simply stared up at him for a moment, completely lost for words as he continued to stand by your side.

And when he finally broke the silence, it was to utter, “it’s mostly bruises you’ve got, but there is a cut on your shoulder,” his chin tilted in the direction of that side, “I tried to just keep it wrapped while you were unconscious, but I should probably stitch it up for you.”

Nodding slowly as your stare stayed on him instead of straying to the bloodied dish towel tied around your side, you murmured, “okay…”

Once he’d helped you sit back up, he only disappeared into the living room for a moment to grab the first aid kit, your own fingers slowly unlacing your boots and dropping them to the floor, before he returned to your side and planted himself on the edge of the mattress.

A sharp hiss escaped you when you tried to peel your long-sleeved top off. But your movement paused when the hem reached your ribs as you felt Matthew’s palms suddenly land atop your own, silently asking you for permission to help. Instead of uttering a word, you simply let your own hands slip out from under his touch, letting him take over and slowly pull the shirt over your head, leaving you in just pants and a sports bra.

Your breathing was ragged as you simply stared at him the whole time he tended to your wound, and by the time that he finished, the silence continued to draw out, growing thick in the air between you both, as neither of you dared to move a muscle.

“…you should try and get some rest,” he eventually uttered, nearly in a whisper.

“Right…” you exhaled and finally tore your gaze away from him to glance down at the remanence of your clothing, not exactly comfortable against your skin, “…do you maybe have a shirt or something that I could borrow?”

“Sure,” he breathed, then got up to open his closet, plucked out a t-shirt and handed it to you, “here.”

“Thanks,” you grasped the soft cotton, bowing your head to glance down at it.

And as you simply stared at it a moment without shifting to put it on, “do you–…” Matt hesitantly offered, “do you need a hand?”

“I–…” you let out a sigh, flirting momentarily with the idea of your usual tough shell, but fortunately, you were so exhausted that you couldn’t resist, “…okay.”

His touch was like fire as it ghosted across your skin, making your pussy throb between your thighs as he carefully helped you first out of the black pants, slowly tugging them down your legs, before he pulled the tight sports bra off, your own breath hitching as your soft tits dropped from the confines. Matt tried to stay strong as he lastly helped you into the borrowed shirt, swallowing hard before he finally let go of you, even though that was the very last thing he yearned to do.

When you layed back down under his covers, you couldn’t fall back asleep even though your body was screaming for the rest, your stare instead staying glued on the lawyer as he returned to the living room and went back to patching himself up.

It was then that it hit you what that feeling that fluttered within you truly was.

You felt safe.

For the first time in forever.

With him by your side, you felt safe.

It was evening by the time that you woke up again, the sun once more setting, dipping down below the towering buildings outside.

“You okay?” you heard Matthew’s voice and twisted gently in the sheets to find him sitting on the couch just on the other side of the open sliding door, leaned over the coffee table and going through some stuff.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you curled onto your side to face him more, your knees bending up towards your chest.

“Well…” he exhaled slowly and let the papers in his hand drop to the rest on the tabletop below him, “since we didn’t get the laptop, I’m trying to find another way to locate that lab.”

Tears then welled up in your eyes and thickened the words in your throat as the level of just how much he cared came as a surprise to you, “any success?”

“Uh, maybe. There is this one scientist who worked there, but he was arrested for something else,” he clicked his tongue, “currently sitting pretty in prison.”

“Wait, are you saying–,” you caught onto what he was hinting at, “do you wanna go in there and pretend to be his lawyer? Do you think that’d work?”

“Well, if reasoning with him doesn’t work, then I can always just let the devil out, see if that’ll loosen his lips.”

Staring at him in pure and unadulterated amazement, the tears in your eyes escaped with a small sob and began to roll down your cheeks.

“Hey,” he promptly darted to your side, sitting down on the bed beside you, “what’s wrong? Is it–, do you not want me to go? I’m sorry, I–”

Shaking your head, you sniffled, “no, it’s not that–”

“Have you changed your mind?” he tilted his head as you then pushed yourself up to a sitting position next to him, “you wanna go back to being a lone wolf? Because not that I don’t believe you’re strong enough to take these people on all on your own, you are, you really are, but I just–… I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,” he choked on his words, “so please. Please let me help. Let me–, let us work together. Make these people pay for everything they’ve done. Everything they’ve done to you…”

Sucking in a breath, you stared back at him, unable to find the words, before you felt your spine begin to slant forward as you let your forehead simply rest against his own.

“…Matt–…” your voice was barely a whisper as finally filled out the sparse space between you both, “…you’re the first person that I can’t hide from… and not just because you can sense me even when I’m invisible, but you see me…” another tear escaped the corner of your eye, “…truly see me…” you then felt him grab your cheek, your glossy eyes briefly fluttering closed at the contact, “I’ve never–…” you blinked back at him again, panting as your gaze then dropped to his lips, “…you–…” you felt him slowly begin to drag you closer, but just as the tip of your nose brushed against his own, your eyes squeezed shut as you whispered once more, “we shouldn’t…”

“Why not?” he breathed, his wide palm remaining against your cheek as his fingertip slowly stretched up into your hairline.  

“Matt…” you exhaled, but instinctively leaned into his touch.

“Don’t you want to?” he croaked hazily, “doesn’t it kill you too, this thing between us?” a fresh blubber of tears sprang forth from you as his words struck true, “I know it’s not just me, I know… I can feel the way your breath hitches when you look at me… I can hear the way your pulse picks up when I’m near… like a fucking drum between your legs…” his nose twitched gently as he nearly growled.

“…still doesn’t mean we should give in to it…” you whispered, “…Matthew, I–… these people have been after me for most of my life. I can’t risk putting anyone else in danger simply for caring about them,” your tearful eyes blinked back at him, “I know first-hand what they do to someone, someone like us. I can’t let you go through that as well.”

Letting his grip glide into your hair completely, he let your words sink in before he eventually uttered, “…if it means having you, then that’s a risk I’d be willing to take…”

For a moment, you simply stared at him, slightly doubting whether you’d heard him correctly, before something inside of you finally unravelled and you leaned in to press your lips against his own.

It was slow yet rumbling with passion. His thumb gently wiped away the last few tears that rolled down your cheeks before the kiss faded into small, unhurried pecks. Your palm floated up to caress his burly forearm as he continued to cradle your face, drawing out the kisses for as long as possible.

Soon, your limbs were tangled around one another, hugging each other’s forms as your lips stayed locked, occasionally pausing for a breath to let a gentle smile take over.

But when you felt as if you still weren’t close enough to him, you found yourself carefully crawling into his lap, a shift he couldn’t help but aid as his arms around you tightened and he drew you in flush against him, your thighs on either side of his hips on the edge of the bed.

But it still didn’t scratch the itch enough, leading your breath to grow ragged as your fingers tangled in his shirt and your lips wandered down the side of his neck.

“Are you–…” he breathed heavy as you kissed along his throat, his fingers instinctively denting low on your hips, “what can I–, what do you need?”

A sly smirk then bloomed on your lips as you kept on kissing his skin, “you really gonna sit here and claim that you don’t know what I need right now?” a faint giggle escaped you as even you had already noticed the dull throbbing between your thighs that was nearly making you drool.

“No, I mean–, are you feeling better?” his grip on you tightened as he tried to keep cool and hold onto the fact of all the trauma your body had just sustained.

That made you pull back a bit as a gentle smile lit up your face, “yeah,” you uttered warmly, “I’m not a hundred per cent yet, probably won’t be for a while, but the sleep really helped.”

“And how about your shoulder?” he cocked his head, gesturing faintly towards it.

“It’s fine,” you breathed, “I have a pretty high pain tolerance,” you then saw as Matt mirrored your smile before he dipped back in to steal another kiss. But then, as the brief break had cleared enough of your fog as well, you cut the peck short before your mind could get cloudy again, “wait, but what about you?” you realised, and glanced to his injuries, only some of them not covered by his t-shirt, “you got way more banged up than me.”

“Oh,” he continued to grin, “I’m just fine,” he told you as he then slowly leaned in.

“You sure?” you asked, your lips curling into a smile as he continued to slant closer.

“Well, I mean,” he tilted his head as he smirked, “I could be better…” he then began to plant a trail of slow pecks all along the length of your neck.

“Oh yeah?” a breathy chuckle escaped you.

“Yeah…” his palms caught your cheeks as his lips travelled up your throat till they were pressing against your face once more, “there might be something you could do to help…”

And as you then playfully slipped your arm down between your forms to reach for the hardness that had been nudging you, “…something like this?” you grinned as you palmed the tent in his pants.

“Fuck…” he groaned, his head tilting upwards to share your breath, “yeah, exactly something like that…” he smiled as well before he collided his lips with yours once again.

His broad palms coasted all along the shape of your frame, finally letting himself touch you the way that he had yearned for, all of his thoughtful reservations dropped to the floor, just like his tight t-shirt, as you soon peeled it over his head, your heated kiss only pausing a moment before you both dove right back in.

You gasped against his lips as his wide hands strayed from their kneading of your soft ass, for his fingertips to stretch down over the cotton of your panties, reaching between your legs and teasingly brushing over the soaked fabric. As he pressed down harder, rolling your clit through the material, your hand flexed against his hardness.   

“God, I wanna taste you so fucking bad…” he then panted against your lips as you wiggled down into his touch, “can I? Please?”

Breathlessly pulling back to let your hazy eyes sweep across his face, your head tilted in a faint nod, “o-okay,” before a grin then flashed across Matt’s face and his burly arms tightened around your frame, taking you with him as he flipped you around and layed you down on the mattress.

Still slotted between your thighs, Matthew only loomed above you for a moment before he sank down to kneel on the floor beside the bed. Catching your hips, he yanked you closer to the edge, drawing out a giggly yelp from your lungs.

Peeping down at him, your chest rose and fell rapidly as he slowly peeled your panties down your legs, webs of your want briefly clinging to the cotton as it was torn away from your drooling pussy, before the glinting strings snapped back against your throbbing core.

“Holy–, fuck!” you gasped as he buried his face between your legs, his sweet tongue dragging through your wet folds, tracing your clit before it slipped down to lap up the nectar leaking out of you, groaning against your heat as his nose nudged against your puffy pearl.

His grip dented your waist as his mouth tilted back up to overwhelm your clit, the borrowed t-shirt you still wore bunching up beneath his fingers.

The man was eating you out as if it were his last day on earth, his facial hair rubbing your poor pussy raw as you wiggled beneath him, dizzy against the sheets as one of his hands glided down between your quivering legs.

For a moment, the tips of his fingers traced slow circles over your entrance, before one of them then eased inside, just to the second knuckle, gradually opening you up for him.

By the time your cunt was clenching around two of his digits, sunk deeper inside of you than your own touch could ever reach, your arm fluttered down to tremble against his palm that still remained splayed against your abdomen. You clawed at his skin till he flipped his hand around and clutched your own tight, his broad thumb briefly brushing over your knuckles as you moaned beneath him.

But as you felt yourself near the edge, you lifted your head just an inch above the sheets and cast your hazy gaze down to the man blissful between your legs.

Even though this was more than you could ever dream of, there was something else in this moment that your soul was screaming for.

Letting out a whimper, your other hand shot down to tangle in his dark hair right before you gasped, “wait–, stop–,” and his mouth let go of you with a pop, “come here,” you whispered breathlessly as your fingers let go of his locks, and you caught onto the cross necklace dangling from his neck. Pulling on it as if it was a leash, you dragged him till he was hovering above your splayed-out form, and his lips came crashing into yours.

The entire lower half of his face was soaked in your juices, making you mewl against his tongue as you tasted yourself on him.

“Please fuck me,” you panted when you finally parted from the sloppy kiss, “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Yeah?” Matthew smirked above you, his fingers catching the hem of your shirt, “you need me inside of you?” he tilted his chin as he dragged the last shred of clothing over your head and flung it onto the floor.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded as you foggily reached down to fumble with his pants, but before you could manage to undo them, his own fingers nimbly took over.

“You wanna feel me stretch you out again?” he grunted, your eyes fluttering as you watched his heavy cock spring forth and slap him in the abdomen.

Your head was spinning as he then suddenly flipped you around, manhandling and moulding you beneath him till he had you bent over the mattress, your legs now dangling off the side of his bed next to where his own stood rooted, “Matt–”

“You wanna cum on my cock?” he finished pushing his pants off completely and you twisted your neck to catch a glimpse of him behind you.

“Y-yes!” you slurred breathlessly, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt him tap the weight of himself against your soft pussy, your drool nearly dripping down over him like honey before he finally nudged at your opening and the tip of his dick slipped inside, “oh fuck–”

“Oh my god…” he groaned as he gradually split you open on his fat girth, “of course you somehow feel even fucking better than I remembered…” his upper body melted down over you, his glinting necklace tickling your skin before his soft lips pressed against your spine, “so fucking wet and warm… you’re fucking perfect…”

You were grabbing the sheets by the time his thrusts had gained such ferocity that his heavy balls were smacking against your throbbing clit each time he bottomed out within you, making you whimper rhythmically beneath him with each maddening buck.

Slipping his hand beneath your chin, he tilted your face up towards his own, arching your back for him to steal a messy kiss from your lips, though he held you captive there a moment longer afterwards, letting you blink up at him as each time his hips snapped against your ass, it made it harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open.

That first orgasm hit you like a freight train, after you’d initially denied yourself of the ecstasy, it only rocked you that much more fiercely when you finally let it, your powers flickering as you lost control, turning your body transparent a dozen times in your swift descent as you came crashing down against the mattress.

Before you’d caught your breath, Matthew gently flipped you back around and scooted your frame further up upon the bed as he joined you as well.

Your legs clung against his hips as he crawled above you, and you felt his arms curl around and beneath your form, hugging you close as his cock throbbed against your pussy.

And as you briefly reached down to slip his length, glistening and covered in your cream, back inside, he continued to let himself finally hold onto you for dear life as he nearly fucked you straight through the mattress in maddeningly slow and deep strokes.

“O-oh, Matt,” you whimpered, his forehead resting against your own as your mouth stayed agape in a silent gasp, completely lost in him.

Nudging your legs to part further for him, you then heard him command, “play with that pussy for me,” in a similar, dark grunt as when the devil mask was obscuring half of his face. But when his words washed over your dazed form and sent a shiver down your spine, he ghosted his lips against your own as your hands stayed locked around his neck, “earth to Shadow…”

“Huh?” you sluggishly blinked back up at his brown eyes.

“Did you hear what I just said?”

Head spinning, you gasped, “uhm, uh-huh,” and nodded hazily, your nose nudging against his own, though your fingers still didn’t spring to life yet.

“Then go on,” he chuckled breathlessly at the state he had put you in, “make that pretty pussy cum on my cock one more time.”

Your eyes soon rolled in your skull as you then rubbed your puffy pearl raw and cried out beneath him as you tumbled over the edge once again. Your cunt choked his girth so fiercely that he couldn’t help but promptly cum as well, his dick twitching inside of you as you milked him of all of his worth.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before either of you finally moved, but you nearly managed to fall asleep while his cock was still splitting you open and his load was slowly leaking onto the sheets.

But when you eventually settled into Matthew’s side and your weary stare blinked up at his serene features, you found yourself whispering into the night, “…you really think we can do this?”

Twisting his head slightly, he uttered, “what? Take down Onyx Corp,” his arm around you tightening slightly at your lasting gloom, “or be together?”

Drawing in a breath, you averted your gaze as you admitted dimly, “both.”

Lying still a second, you then felt him shift beside you, snaking his grip around your frame before he then dragged you closer till you were splayed out directly on top of his chest. Gliding his touch up to catch your face, he waited for your stare to return to him before he uttered, “…I think that together, we can do anything.”

© 2026 thyme-in-a-bubble

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

MARK VARIENTS X FLASH!READER

They have no self control or restraint...

FULLMASK MARK

Many people think that Full Mask Mark is the most normal among the Marks, which is highly incorrect. This man can be just as unhinged if not more than the rest. He just hides it very well, which is surprising, to say the least.

In his Universe, you'd died before he could even confess his feelings before he could tell you how much he loved and cared for you, before he could kiss or cherish you, before he could do anything he’d be devastated. So when he sees Mainstream Mark fumble you like no other, he’s absolutely fuming.

Sure, in the mainstream universe, the two of you have a rivalry, but that doesn’t mean a beautiful relationship couldn’t blossom from that. Full Mask is completely jealous while also going through the five stages of grief after seeing you alive in a different universe and still the same person he fell in love with.

A part of him is selfish and wants to take you back to his world. Another part feels bad for the other Mark… but then again, he doesn’t. In his own words, “Other me can thug it out.”

You’d go through serious whiplash after arguing with your Mark, only to have another version of him who looks almost exactly the same, just a little more tired, with a faded beard confess his love to you.

“I know we’ve argued in the past. You probably hate me more than you do now, but I love you, [Name]. And before you think this is some joke or a prankI would give up this entire invasion, I would give up everything, just to let me love you…”

There’s so much sincerity in his voice that you don’t even know what to do. I mean, what can you do when your superhero rival is talking to you like this?

MOHAWK MARK

His relationship with you in his universe’s timeline is pretty confusing really confusing. It’s a situationship, the kind you see on reality TV: fight, break up, get back together, fight, break up, get back together. The cycle repeats again and again until it finally stops.

But that’s Mohawk’s problem he thinks toxicity is normalcy. When a cycle ends, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. So when the two of you break up, he self-destructs by joining the Viltrumites and siding with his father, all in an attempt to impress you and win you back. Of course, it doesn’t work.

You put on your superhero persona to try and stop him, but it ends in a bloodbath. Mohawk kills yes, he kills his first love, his only love. And just like the other Marks, he goes scouting for you in the mainstream universe, literally dropping to his hands and knees for you.

“[Name], did you know I burned down Paris and wrote our initials on the Eiffel Tower? You should see it it’s fucking amazing,” he tells you with complete confidence, laughing like a psycho while his bloody hands cup your cheeks with so much gentleness and love that it almost makes you forget he drove his arms through the flesh of one of your teammates.

All you have to do is say yes, and he’ll drop all of this if you say yes.

OMNI MARK

Omni Mark is probably the weirdest among the Marks well, as weird as he can possibly be. He takes after his father a lot, especially with the hairdo and the outfit, but mostly in his speech and bluntness.

Around the time you were considering joining the Teen Team, he had already joined the Guardians of the Globe under Omni-Man’s watch (for their little secret plan). And because he had a major crush on you, he couldn’t express it at all. This man has literally no game and by no game, I mean zero.

You caught him staring you down once. He was trying to act cute and seem sweet in front of you, but it came off as… murderous. “I wonder what it’ll take for her to notice me…” he muttered. Meanwhile, you were sidestepping him every chance you got.

Of course, when it was time for the Viltrumite expansion, he almost automatically assumed you’d join him. Can you believe this poor guy was in shock when you didn’t? What part of “enslaving all of the human race” did he think you’d agree with? He still believed you’d be his partner at the end of the day not as his equal, but as his partner.

Naturally, you ended up joining the resistance, just like he thought you would. You’re a strong-willed woman he knows that, and that’s what he loves most about you. But still, you’re going against his plans and making things much more difficult for him. He might as well put you “in your place” six feet under, of course.

When he sees you again in the mainstream universe, he’s absolutely elated. You can’t tell by his monotone voice, but he’s happy. Let’s just hope this time you choose him instead of your friends, your family, and the rest of the Marks who are giving him quite the competition.

[rainydaygotham]

spending the days the marks were destroying the earth not helping the heroes fight them but having a ‘romantic getaway’ with one of the marks who really missed his dimension’s version of you. and cecil can’t even say anything about it bc you effectively took this mark out of the game and thus saved a million lives and kept a major city from being destroyed. you technically did help, more than mark himself even, so cecil can’t say dick about shit lmao

[fluentmoviequoter]

It's Not Like That

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!superhero!reader

Summary: There's a superhero beloved by all in Los Angeles. All but Tim Bradford, who is completely clueless about the connection between his girlfriend and Lux, the hero who has become the bane of his existence.

Warnings/Word Count: r's superhero name is Lux (has Kyrptonian/Viltrumite-esque abilities), brief angst/implication of cheating + relationship doubt, fluff, banter, Dash, Leon the raccoon. 2.7k+ words, requested

Directory | T.B. Masterlist | Request Info | Taglist

“Disturbance at La Brea Tar Pits and Museum,” dispatch radios. “Callers report use of unspecified weapon on scene.”

“What does that mean?” Celina questions after responding.

“Five years ago, it would have meant that there was a machete or a modified prop,” Tim grumbles. “Now? Probably that there’s someone manipulating matter or bringing the dinosaurs back to life.”

“Not a fan of superheroes, then?”

“Regardless of their abilities, we have a historical purpose for cops, a necessary order. Every day, someone doing something new shows up and it throws off that balance,” Tim complains. “It started with one hero. Now look where we are.”

“Lux,” Celina offers, nodding. “You know, a lot of the, uh…”

“Aliens?” Tim guesses.

“Yeah. A lot of them turn out to be humans with big imaginations or stupid plans. Maybe a generation just watched too much Phineas and Ferb, decided to take over the tri-state area.”

“Focus, Officer Juarez,” Tim demands, stopping against the curb.

There are people running from the museum, bystanders pointing their phones toward the building, and more lights and sirens approaching from the other direction. Tim has been entrusted with not only getting Celina through the day but teaching her how to survive. Every day spent in this new world makes him a little less eager to keep training the next generation of cops. Not when he can barely recognize the city around him.

“What are you looking for?” Tim snaps when Celina lifts her eyes toward the sky.

“Nothing,” she answers quickly. “How are we approaching?”

“You go less lethal,” he replies. “We’ll move to the front entrance and decide from there. Chen and Nolan will approach from the other side.”

“Yes, sir,” Celina agrees, readying her taser.

“And Juarez?” Tim adds. “Stop listening to Chen.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sitting atop the U.S. Bank Tower, you look up at the sky as your phone plays snippets from the LAPD radio. Downloading the police scanner app had been easy enough but tailoring it to maintain a signal at the heights you fly to required some help. Adjusting your mask, you’re glad you never asked your technologically minded friend what his name was. You might have put him in danger; you never meant to become the hero you are now.

“Unspecified weapon,” you repeat when the radio scanner goes quiet. Shifting to stand, you murmur, “Interesting.”

When officers begin attaching themselves to the disturbance, you turn your phone off and slide it into the pouch on the back of your suit, then jump off the roof of the tower, blasting through the sky.

“That’s not a weapon,” Nolan mumbles, staring at the moving statue.

“Not helpful, Nolan,” Tim says. “Save the commentary.”

“How exactly are we supposed to stop that thing if it figures out how to walk?” Celina questions. “It’s got to weigh hundreds of pounds and doesn’t exactly feel pain.”

“Now would be a great time for you-know-who to show up,” Lucy whispers, glancing up at the cloudless sky.

“Focus, Chen,” Tim encourages. “We’ve been trained for this. And if you teach another boot to check for heroes instead of doing their job, I’ll personally ensure you lose your badge.”

“Have you driven down Wilshire recently?” she challenges. Tim remains quiet, so she continues, “I thought so. When’s the last time a civilian paid for a billboard for us? Heroes have an advantage in some cases, Tim.”

“Then you do the paperwork if she shows up.”

Lucy shrugs, returning her attention to the heavy statue testing its new mobility. There’s no way to know what it will do if — or when — it starts walking. Shooting it would be pointless; it’s inanimate, so they most they’d do is chip the coating.

The crowd lingering behind Tim, Nolan, Lucy, and Celina gasps, several people cheering. Tim exhales heavily, his hand moving to his gun, though he suspects he knows what or who the newcomer is.

You step forward between him and Celina, tipping your head as you watch the statue. “Not an animatronic, I assume?”

“We’ve got it under control,” Tim rumbles. “Find something else to do. Go save a puppy.”

“Sorry about him,” the young officer on your other side mumbles. “He’s grumpy.”

You smile at her, then turn so that your back is to the threat, your eyes covered by your mask but locked on Tim Bradford. “You need my help,” you tell him.

“We managed just fine before you showed up,” he argues. “Move.”

“That thing is stronger than a human, won’t react to any of your weapons, and has unknown intentions,” you list. “You. Need. My. Help.”

“Despite what the billboard says,” Tim seethes, stepping toward you, “you are not LA’s last hope. You are not our sole protector.”

You match his step, your chest an inch from him. “I never claimed to be. Glad to know you’re reading the signs, though. What’s next? Joining the fan site?”

“Sites,” Lucy interjects softly. “There’s more than one.”

You laugh, surprised by her input. “Great, then you can take your pick while I fight a woolly mammoth made of cement.”

“You’re a pain in the-”

Tim can’t finish before you push him away from you. He stumbles, nearly crashing into Lucy, while the statue jumps on your back, pushing you into the dirt and dragging you through the concrete pathway. Lifting yourself up, you shove its… paw? foot? — whatever it is, it’s heavy — off of you.

“Bad dog,” you chide, hovering off the ground while it struggles to get upright again. Looking back at the cops, you nod at Officer Bradford and call, “I’m taking it to Mojave. Have the museum bill me!”

You launch forward, your hands cracking the statue and wrapping around the inner structure before you lift it off the ground and fly upward, gaining speed and distance before you break the sound barrier to reach the desert faster.

At the tar pits, Tim stops his body camera and stares at the hole in the ground where you were tackled.

“Find out what caused that,” he tells Lucy and Nolan. “I have more paperwork to do.”

“It’s like, everywhere I go, she shows up,” Tim complains, stirring the pot on the stove. “And she’s nice to cops, sure, but she has no care that I get saddled with the paperwork and accounting for every little thing she does!”

“Didn’t she push you out of the way today?”

Tim turns, his shoulders dropping when he sees his girlfriend’s smile. It’s kind of endearing that he has absolutely no idea that the hero that he’s complaining about and the woman he’s complaining to are the same person. You place your chin on your hand and await his answer.

“I’m deleting Lucy’s number from your phone,” he says rather than answering.

“Go ahead,” you challenge. “Celina told me.”

Tim groans, rounding the counter to wrap his arms around your waist. “You’re supposed to be sympathetic to my plights, remember?”

You pat his arm and laugh. “I am sympathetic. Kind of.”

“Technically, yes, she did save me,” he admits then. “But she caused almost a million dollars in damages that the LAPD has to justify.”

Rubbing your palm along his forearm, you hum, then muse, “Sounds like she gets to you.”

Tim straightens, his eyes finding yours instantly as he promises, “It’s not like that.”

You smile and tap his nose with your forefinger. “I know,” you reply. “Just curious if I could get to you, too.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I love hearing about your day, including the hero that follows you around and makes you miserable but hasn’t even had the decency to introduce herself.”

Tim leans forward, his grip on your waist tightening. “But I get to come home to you,” he whispers. “Best part of my day.”

You smile, meeting him halfway. He doesn’t kiss you like you’re the bane of his existence. Hopefully this part doesn’t change when he finds out.

“What about you?” he checks. “Have an eventful day?”

Yeah, I flew a living statue to the Mojave and had to rip it limb from limb to keep it from coming back to Los Angeles. “I found a raccoon in your backyard,” you tell him. “I’m thinking of naming him Leon.”

“We’re not keeping that raccoon,” Tim tells you, returning to the stove.

“Whatever you need to hear, babe. He’s a sweetheart.”

“For now.”

“Is that a new suit?” Lucy asks.

Tim turns, feeling a migraine build when he sees you looking at a burgled residence from Lucy’s side.

“Boundaries, Chen,” he reminds her.

“No, it’s okay,” you assure. “That elephant statue stained the other one. My tailor couldn’t get a replacement finished yet. This is a spare.”

“That’s your spare?” she questions incredulously. “It’s really cute.”

“Thank you!”

“Are you here for a reason?” Tim inquires.

“Do you know how they got in?” you ask.

“We’re working on it.”

Pointing to a missing air vent cover, you offer, “I’ve only seen tech like it once. Essentially, it infuses gas into metal ducts, expands them, then returns everything to the way it was.”

“You’re saying the thief walked through the air vents,” Tim clarifies. “That’s impossible.”

“Actually, it’s not,” someone interjects.

You, Lucy, and Tim turn together, all surprised to see that Nolan has a teenage boy at his side. Ride along, Nolan mouths.

“Oh, hey, Lux,” the kid greets, waving at you.

“Hi,” you reply flatly.

“How do you two know each other?” Nolan wonders.

Your eyes widen, but your young acquaintance is smart. Maybe too smart.

“She’s a superhero,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “Everyone knows who she is.”

“Great,” Tim interrupts, “now that your fan club has arrived, you can go.”

“There’s only one group using that tech right now,” the kid offers. “They’ve got a really stupid name.”

Straightening your mask, you ask, “Dusk Bunnies?”

The kid snaps and points at you, confirming you’re right. Although, you have no idea how a group of late-night thieves got their hands on alien technology. You haven’t seen an actual alien in over a year. Not since that thing on the moon went down and Earth got taken off the list of planets interested in being visited by beings from other worlds. The same night, you failed your landing in Tim’s back yard, fell on your face, and scared Leon.

“Dust bunnies came through the air vents?” Celina clarifies, then smiles and jokes, “Isn’t that normal?”

“Dusk,” you and Tim correct together.

He turns toward you and says, “Thanks for the assist. We’ve got it from here.”

“Okay,” you agree, stepping backward toward the door.

“You’re leaving?” he questions.

“You said you’ve got it. Do you not?”

“No, we do. Just… you’ve never actually done anything I’ve asked before.” He narrows his eyes at you, like he’s waiting for you to reveal an ulterior motive.

You shrug one shoulder. “It’s the Dusk Bunnies; you can handle it. I’ve got other stuff I can do.”

“That’s true,” the kid interjects. “I heard that there’s a standoff in Long Beach.”

“Thanks, kid,” you say before stepping onto the patio and flying into the air.

“How do you know Lux?” Nolan asks Dash after you leave.

Dash rubs the back of his neck, uninterested in being the center of attention. “Better question, how long has Officer Bradford been in love with her?”

“What?!” Lucy demands. “What about-”

“I’m not in love with her,” Tim insists before Lucy can say your name. “Seriously, you’re going to believe the kid?”

“Hey, I’m in high school, if there’s one thing I see every day, it’s crushes,” he defends.

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Nolan advises quietly.

“Lux pisses me off; she oversteps and gets in the way,” Tim adds. “I don’t have feelings for her.”

Lucy exhales a long breath before remembering, “You always check the sky for her. Tim…”

“It’s not like that,” he snaps. “Let’s get back to work.”

Tim tosses and turns in bed all night, unable to keep his mind from racing. What if you find out that he does in fact look for Lux when something happens? He wasn’t lying when he said she’s the bane of his existence, and he loves you more than anything. No, Tim tells himself, it really isn’t like that. Lux is a- an acquaintance at best. Even if I wanted something — which I don’t — I’d never give up what I have.

You stir beside him, blinking once before you sit up in bed. “Is there someone here?” you whisper.

“I don’t think so,” Tim replies.

Then he hears it too. There are cupboards opening and closing somewhere in the house. Tim rolls over and unlocks the safe in the nightstand to retrieve his gun. When he rises again to tell you to stay put, you’re gone, the bedroom left open behind you. Tim curses under his breath, rushing into the hall.

You hiss in pain, and Tim’s tactical training goes out the window. He doesn’t have his gun raised, doesn’t check the corners, just runs into the living room.

“I caught him,” you mumble, holding a racoon at arms’ length.

“How did…” Tim begins, looking at you, then the open door.

“I, uh, I messed up, though,” you murmur. “Let me put this guy outside and we’ll talk?”

Tim nods slowly, turning to watch you go. He was lying awake thinking about another woman when you woke up and took charge because you thought someone was in the house. What does that say about him? What does it say about your relationship?

Before Tim can spiral too far, you return and pull the sliding door closed behind you. Tim can see a few scratches on your arms and one across your chest. He warned you that Leon wouldn’t be sweet forever. Now I’m calling the raccoon by name, he realizes.

“Are you okay?” he questions.

“Yeah,” you answer softly. You take his hand, set his gun on the coffee table, and lead him to the edge of the kitchen. “I’m really sorry, okay?”

Tim tips his head in question, then follows where you’re pointing. The tile in front of the sink is cracked, the foundation slab indented slightly.

“I thought there was someone there,” you explain softly, pulling your hand from Tim’s. “I scared Leon.”

“How?” Tim repeats, not bothering to clarify what he’s asking. He’s got too many questions to ask them all right now.

“And it’s also my fault that Leon was in here,” you admit quickly. “I think I left the door open when I came back.”

“Came back from where?” Tim asks. “No, one thing at a time.”

He drags a hand down his face, blinks, and then you’re standing in front of him. Not you, his girlfriend in the oversized sleep shirt, but you, Lux, the superhero.

“I should have told you,” you begin. “And I’m sorry for everything I put you through at work.”

“You- you… Lux?” Tim stutters, leaning heavily against the counter. “I don’t…”

“We can talk,” you promise, giving him space. “I will answer any and all questions that you have. Right now, I need to know if you want me to stay. Say the word and I’ll leave.”

“I said it wasn’t like that,” Tim whispers, either to himself or to you.

“It is still not like that?” you question.

Tim looks up, carefully pulling your mask away from your face. He knows he’s only successful because you let him be. “Well, now it is,” he decides lowly.

Smiling, you step closer to Tim. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m confused,” he admits. “I have a lot of questions, but, no, I’m not mad.”

“I’m not the bane of your existence?”

“I’m beginning to see the appeal,” he murmurs, running his hands down your costume.

“You still trust me?” you question.

“Of course,” Tim answers without hesitation. “What’d you do tonight?”

“Broke up a gunfight in South L.A.”

“You’re bulletproof?!” Tim exclaims.

You glance down at the floor and murmur, “I’m a lot of things.”

“Yes, you are,” Tim agrees, holding your face to direct your eyes to his. “And I’ll learn it all tomorrow.”

He kisses you, and you feel normal, yet wholly loved. Tim is everything you love in one place. Now that you know your identity doesn’t change how he feels about you, you have to figure out where to start. As soon as he’s done kissing you. Oh, and you should probably apologize to Leon and tell Kojo to take it easy on him for a day or two.

Tim Bradford Taglist 🏷️ @sweetheartlizzie07 @waltermis @bellsbomb @maialopez23 @peachescastles @eberles @kmc1989 @sogoodtoheritsvicious @person-005 @multifandombliss @thecranberrypineapple @russopalatte @averyhotchner @arcane-fan @hiireadstuff @lori19 @bradleybeachbabe @natashamea18 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @defonotsolesblog @goodwitchswift @noxchirurgus @mazikeensmith1981 @gh0stgurl @waywardhunter95 @ilocuras24 @anonymousmuffinbear @teti-menchon0604 @fdl305 @corvusmorte @ttulipwritezz @devilslittlehelper

[fallen-angel2470]

Nightwing x Starfire's sister!reader || Masterlist || Request!

Dividers by: @enchanthings

The rooftop was cold, the kind of damp chill that seeped through armor seams. You crouched at the edge, purple light still fading from your knuckles. Below, three bodies in the alley—dealers who’d been cutting product with fentanyl and selling to middle-schoolers. Two had knives. One had already fired once tonight. You hadn’t hesitated.

Footsteps behind you. Deliberate. Familiar cadence even after years.

Nightwing landed without flourish, cape settling around him like spilled ink.

“You left them facedown in their own blood,” he said. No greeting. No accusation. Just fact.

You didn’t turn. “They stopped breathing before they could reload. Cleaner that way.”

He stepped closer, boots quiet on wet gravel. “I saw the footage. They were down. You still finished it.”

You finally looked at him. Same mask. Same jawline under it. Same eyes that used to search yours for something softer than what you ever gave.

“Kids were dying,” you said. “Now they’re not. Math checks out.”

He exhaled through his nose. “That’s the line you draw now?”

“That’s the line I’ve always drawn.” You stood, rolling your shoulders. The violet plating of your armor caught the sodium glow from the streetlights. “Kori saves with sunlight and speeches. Komand’r conquers. I fall somewhere between. I clean up what the rules won’t touch.”

A long silence. Wind moved between you both.

“You used to let me talk you down,” he said quietly.

“You used to think talking was enough.”

He didn’t flinch. Just watched you. “I was wrong about a few things.”

You felt the old ache start behind your ribs—the one that never quite left after you walked out of that safehouse in Jump City and didn’t look back.

“I still kill when I have to,” you told him. Flat. No apology in it. “When the system fails them. When mercy gets more people killed.”

“I know.” He took one step closer. Not crowding. Just enough to close some of the distance. “I’ve read every report. Seen every crime scene you left behind. I know exactly what you do.”

You waited for the lecture. It didn’t come.

Instead he said, “I’m not here to arrest you. Or convert you. I just—” He stopped. Restarted. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t still look for your signature in every purple flare across the skyline.”

Your throat tightened. You hated that it still could.

“I’m not coming back to the team,” you said.

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Then what?”

He looked at the alley below, then back at you. “I want in on the nights you decide who walks away and who doesn’t. Not to stop you. To see it. To argue when I think there’s another move. To stand there when you make the call anyway.”

You studied him. Searched for the lie, the hidden agenda, the Bat-trained play. Found none.

“You’ll hate it,” you warned.

“Probably.”

“You’ll hate me some nights.”

“Already tried that. Didn’t stick.”

You let out a short breath that might have been a laugh if it weren’t so tired. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Maybe.” The corner of his mouth moved—just a fraction. “But I’m your idiot. Unless you tell me to leave.”

The city kept breathing below you: sirens, horns, distant shouts. Ordinary violence. The kind you both knew too well.

You stepped forward until the space between you was only a breath. Close enough to feel the heat off his suit, the faint ozone-and-leather smell that used to mean home.

“I don’t do second chances,” you said.

His voice dropped. “Then call this the first one we’re doing right.”

Your hand found the edge of his chest plate. His found your waist—careful, like he expected you to bolt.

You didn’t.

When you kissed him it wasn’t gentle or cinematic. It was teeth and years of unsaid things and the metallic taste of the night. His fingers tightened in the seam of your armor like he was anchoring himself against the possibility you’d vanish again.

When you broke apart you both stayed close, foreheads touching, breathing the same cold air.

“I’m not promising to change,” you said against his mouth.

“I’m not asking you to stop.” His thumb brushed the corner of your jaw. “Just don’t disappear again.”

You didn’t answer with words.

Instead you turned your hand palm-up between you. A thin thread of violet energy curled around your fingers, then drifted across to wrap loosely around his wrist—not binding, just there. Warm. Steady.

He looked down at it, then back at you.

“Deal,” he said.

You let the light fade.

Then you both turned toward the city, shoulder to shoulder, and dropped off the roof into the dark.

No promises. No grand declarations.

Just two people who still burned the same way, even if the color was different.

[e1ectraaheart]

Okay, I've finally decided to ask a request cause why not. So, I'll try to explain the best I can.

So the reader has psychokinesis and is in the same 'Stark intership' as Peter. He keeps seeing a girl that he knows the name of and he sees her in the halls and she's sweet and nice to him and they talk a lot.

But there's also a hero (who's the same girl I just mentioned) but he doesn't know that, and she's total oposite with him cause she doesn't like the fact that he became an avanger just like that when she's been here longer and worked hard while Peter didn't even try.

So Peter tries to figure out who's the girl under the mask because she knows he's spiderman, and he also wants to figure out why the masked hero hate him so much.

I really do hope that makes sence and sorry for bad spelling!

Love your writting btw🩷

(This really seems like a wrote a letter like u put it on the button where we ask you questions lol)

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 - 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫

peter parker x superhero!reader a/n: i lowkey hate my writing here but i hope you dont lmfao, anyways thanks for the req <33 contains: frenemies to lovers, banter, time skips, unintentional tony shade oops, identity reveal, mcu peter word count: 2489

When Peter came back from Germany, he didn’t expect Mr. Stark to make him do actual intern work. He had assumed it was just a cover for his whole Spiderman gig. But on his first weekend home, Happy had shown up at his apartment bright and early to take him to the new Avengers compound upstate. 

The place was huge and there were a few other interns his age wandering about doing various tasks. Happy had sent him to “log artifacts”...whatever that meant. Peter had ended up in some damp storage closet in the farthest end of the compound. He was just about at his wit’s end when you stumbled in. 

“Oh! I didn’t expect anyone to be in here, sorry.” You smiled somewhat awkwardly.

“It’s okay, I’m not really sure what I’m doing anyways,” Peter laughed, matching your anxious tone. He could already feel his heart rate picking up, he was stuck in a very small closet with a gorgeous intern he had never met before. 

“Right, well, I’m just going to take this,” you held up some random alien artifact, “and be on my way. It was nice meeting you…?”

“Peter.”

“It was nice meeting you, Peter.” You offered one more smile before slipping out and heading back to the tasks you were assigned. 

Peter stood in that closet dumbfounded for another five minutes before he realized he never caught your name. 

—

It had been a couple weeks since Peter met you in that storage closet and failed to learn your name. He had gone home that night wishing helplessly that he hadn’t seen the last of you, and to his pleasure, you appeared again the next weekend. You offered him a smile and a wave, and Peter had probably done something stupid in return, but he couldn’t remember. He was too entranced by you. 

After much pestering, Happy had told him your name and it was something he clung onto on the days he couldn’t see you. The two of you talked in your free time and Peter eventually built up the courage to ask you to grab lunch with him. After that, it became a regular thing. Not a single weekend went by where the two of you didn’t hang out. Peter’s mischievous nature started rubbing off on you as you both started pulling pranks on the various Avengers that came and went about the compound. But your prime target had always been Happy; it was just too easy seeing as he was everywhere. He got sick of this quickly and started sending the both of you out into the city for random tasks that were of no consequence whatsoever.

It went on like this for months, Peter slowly developing a crush on you as you continued to show indifference. It’s not that you didn’t like him or think he was cute, you just couldn’t afford to think about that right now. You had your eyes set on being an Avenger ever since you discovered your psychokinetic abilities. 

So you honed your skills. 

You’d spend the days interning with Peter and the nights practicing in the training room until your arms felt like they were going to fall off. It didn’t take long for you to piece together the fact that Peter was Spiderman either, the kid can’t lie to save his life. Your connections with the Avengers and Mr. Stark helped too seeing as they didn’t try to hide it very much either. You’d earned your place among them honorarily, but as far as Mr. Stark was concerned you were still too reckless and naïve to be an actual Avenger. 

So when the news broke that Peter had become an official Avenger, you just about lost your shit. 

You stayed kind to him in your internship, guaranteeing he didn’t know that you knew his secret. But in private you were fuming. You had argued with Tony about being able to go on patrol, but he was very insistent on keeping you locked up. Happy said he was just overprotective, but that’s just a nicer way of saying controlling. 

Deciding you had waited enough, you “borrowed” an old suit from Natasha (which she noticed was missing in about two seconds flat but decided to let it go out of pity) and set off into the crime ridden streets of New York City. 

You really hadn’t meant to end up in Peter’s neighborhood, but you couldn’t help but wonder what all the Spiderman hype was about. You just had to see for yourself.

Peter had been sitting on a rooftop eating a ridiculously flat sandwich when you found him. Initially you planned to just stay in the shadows and observe, but he sensed your presence immediately. How he did, you didn’t know, you were relatively stealthy. You had heard Mr. Stark mention something called a “Peter Tingle” before, but surely whatever this power was had to have a better name than that…

Realizing he was just going to look at you until you announced yourself, you stepped forward. 

“Hi,” you muttered. 

“Hey, you lost?” he asked, arrogantly. You had to remind yourself he wasn’t trying to sound rude, you were just annoyed he became an Avenger before you. Still…you could be pissed off at Spiderman and still like Peter Parker. 

“No, are you?” you sassed.

“Pretty sure this is my rooftop, so no. You got a name?”

Rolling your eyes as you sat next to him, you said, “Yeah, Spiderman, I do.”

He let out a laugh and replied, “You gonna tell me or make me guess?”

“Hmm…I suppose you’ll just have to earn it.” You stole a fry from his bag.

“Did I do something or are you just this feisty naturally?”

“Probably both.” The sun was still setting over the New York skyline, casting a pink hue over your black mask. 

Peter didn’t say anything else, the two of you just sat in silence until you eventually got up to leave. Even as an annoying Avenger, he wasn’t bad company.

—

For the next several weeks, you joined Peter when patrol got boring. The two of you chatted often, partly due to how close you had grown in your civilian lives. But you still remained icy towards the superhero. It was easier for you to hate Spiderman than it was to hate Peter Parker. You wanted to feel malice towards him taking your spot among the Avengers, but Peter was just too kind to despise. At least with Spiderman, you could pretend he was someone else. Just a random boy who had ruined years of effort for you, not one of your best friends. 

It was a particularly warm summer night when you ran into Peter while staking out a heist. You were just about to go in, hands glowing with power, when his voice startled you from behind, making you yelp. 

“Woah, you’re kinda like Wanda, huh?” You jumped up quickly and glared at the boy behind you, who had announced himself far too loudly. 

Peter had never seen you use your powers. You hid them during the day and when you joined him occasionally on patrol, the two of you spent your nights talking and arguing lightheartedly (though more times than not, you meant it). 

When you glanced back at the group of men you had been watching, they were fleeing the scene while shouting and pointing up at you and Peter. 

“Are you serious Pe– Spiderman? You just blew my cover!” you scolded the man before you, catching yourself before you slipped his identity.

“Sorry! I’m sure they weren’t that important…it’s probably fine, hah…”

“They have two hundred thousand dollars in jewelry on them,” you deadpanned.

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, ‘oh shit’. Now, please leave me alone while I go find them. Again.” You shot Peter one more glare before using your powers to slow your fall to the ground as you descended the building. 

Twenty minutes later you found yourself in an unfairly matched fight, taking out the bandits within seconds. This is way below my paygrade, you thought. You should be an Avenger, not that cocky asshole Spiderman. You’d been waiting years and Tony still treated you like a child. Wanda had told you that Steve had done the same with her, and she probably wouldn’t have been an Avenger if it weren’t for Clint and Sokovia. However, it was hard to believe that reckless billionaire Tony Stark was just being overprotective.

Pushing the thought out of your mind, you started searching around for something to tie the robbers up with, levitating different objects towards you to inspect them. You didn’t make it very far however before you heard a soft thwip, thwip, thwip behind you. When you turned around, you saw a mass of cobwebs sticking the men to the concrete wall behind you.

Eyebrows furrowing, you looked around for Peter angrily. First he takes your spot on the Avengers and now he’s taking your job!?

“Come out, already!” you yelled exasperatedly.

You heard scuffling behind a stack of crates to your left and you used your powers to lift the crates up. There Peter stood, hand behind his neck awkwardly. Throwing the crates out of the way, you walked up to him and shoved him lightly backward.

“What the fuck is your problem? Won’t you just let me handle things on my own? I’m not incompetent, you know!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms in front of you.

“I don’t think you’re incompetent! I didn’t mean for it to come off like that, sorry. And in my defense, they would’ve gotten away if I hadn’t webbed them.”

“Are you doubting my skills, bug boy? I would’ve just knocked them out again, you know.”

“Look, I just wanted to help,” he defended himself.

“Well, I don’t want it! So knock it off!”

“Why do you hate me so much? I don’t even know you!” He had stepped forward and the two of you were far too close now. You could almost feel his breath on your lips through his red and blue mask. 

“You took my spot, asshole!” Your eyebrows were pinched under your black domino mask.

“What are you talking about?” 

You huffed and walked away, heading to the edge of the pier. “The Avengers,” you mumbled.

“The Avengers? How could you be an Avenger, I’ve never even seen you before.” He didn’t mean it rudely, you knew Peter wasn’t like that, but it still pissed you off.

“Well, gee, if you’ve never seen me before I must be nobody then!” you quipped back.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Peter replied firmly.

“Then how did you mean it, Peter?” You were playing with fire here, but you didn’t care anymore.

He stood frozen for a moment before choking out, “W-Who’s Peter?”

You sighed before checking your surroundings and pulling him into an alleyway away from the pier. Taking a deep breath, you reached up and pulled your domino mask off, blinking up at the young superhero through angered eyes.

“You?!?” Peter exclaimed loudly. He pulled his own mask off, hair messy and soft lips parted in shock.

“Me,” you sighed.

“Why were you being so mean! I thought we were friends!” The boy pouted slightly and you couldn’t help but feel a bit bad.

“We…we are, but Peter, you don’t get it. I waited so long for the chance to prove I’m capable, that I could be an Avenger. And then you come along and you’re Tony’s favorite within a few seconds of meeting him!”

“I’m not his favorite–”

“Yes, yes you are! Peter I begged him to let me go to Germany and fight with him. He told me I was too young. Too young but he personally went out to Queens to recruit you? I was heartbroken.” You confessed, eyes getting misty. “I’ll never be good enough for him, no matter what I do. It’s…it’s not fair. And I know that I sound like a child for saying that, but I don’t care anymore.”

Peter’s brows furrowed, a mix of empathy and guilt. He placed a nervous hand on your arm, tearing your gaze upwards to meet his. His eyes were kind and soulful in a way that made you feel like you were slipping dangerously towards loving this boy, no matter how much it went against your natural instincts. 

“It’s not fair, you’re right. If I could go back and turn him down, I would. You deserve it more, I know how hard working you are. Mr. Stark’s an idiot for not seeing it.”

His head had dipped down close to yours now, words coming out in a low whisper that made it feel like a secret just the two of you could share.

“I’m sorry for stealing your spot, I’m sorry for pestering you all this time, but I’m not sorry for getting that internship. How else could I have met you?”

“Peter…” Your voice died out in your throat. His eyes were on yours and tension was palpable. For a split second, your eyes betrayed you and you glanced down at his lips. Peter seemed to catch on to your subtle look and he leaned in just an inch closer, your noses now brushing. 

“You know, the first day I met you I was awestruck. I nagged Happy for a week until he gave me your name. I know you may not like me, but I can’t help but feel like you’re the one thing I’ve been waiting for my whole life,” he whispered.

“I don’t dislike you, Peter. Quite the opposite actually,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah? Then what was with the whole hatred act?” he returned your smirk, a hand now coming to rest on your waist as his confidence increased.

“You were pissing me off, sorry.” You were full-on smiling now as your arms wrapped around his neck. 

“I should be the one apologizing. I’ll find a way to convince Mr. Stark to get you on the team, I swear—”

“Peter,” you cut him off. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Eyes widening slightly, he didn’t wait for further instruction before his lips crashed down on yours. His right hand reached up to cup your jaw, tilting your face slightly. Your hands reached up to tug on his hair, earning a slight groan from him. Your lips moved in unison, like it was the most natural thing in the world. When you finally broke apart, you were panting slightly as your forehead rested against his. You couldn’t stop the smile that broke out across your face and Peter returned it before placing one last kiss on the corner of your grinning lips.

[starrkuma]

LET'S GO, LET'S GO, LITTLE KITTY KAT !

cw: hybrid!bruce, submissive!bruce, superhero!reader, mentions of original justice league, scars, handjob (w.c. 2.5k) 18+ minors dni!

⤷ you're a dedicated member of the justice league, a vigilante in gotham city who works close with the dark knight. but when bruce wayne confines in you with a very... unique problem, will you come to his aid?

being a superhero in gotham city means you’ve seen a lot.

you dealt with frequent pandemonium in the streets. the freakish, crazed villains that wrecked mass levels of havoc on the unsuspecting tuesday.

on top of that, being part of the justice league meant you learned to juggle more than the average person — hell, the average superhero. 

you weren’t part of the original team — but you’re constantly showing that you’ve earned your rank to stand amongst them. you share long nights and early mornings in the tower with the founders of the team.

you’re a well-known superhero to the world — popping into the scene without the explosive flare of the Flash, but the tenacity of the world's finest.

as a superhero, you’re well-composed, polite but… elusive. not much is known about you to the public outside of mission sightings and the occasional interview. you don't show yourself as a public figure like Wonder Woman, or thrive in the limelight like Superman. 

but you bring a certain… light to gotham, a gentle radiance that's never gone away despite the harsh realities of your city. you've never let it dim you, instead vowing to change the city from the inside, one villain at a time.

and you and the Batman… are alike in the little ways ways; it's seen in the easy way you both get along both on the field and outside of missions. you seem to understand his moods, his similar distance and need for privacy, but you don’t see it as a challenge. 

you meet him where he is — little jokes about his eye bags when he confesses to staying up late with robin or the quiet moments when the infamous cowl weighs heavy on his shoulders.

so when alfred calls your phone in the late hours of the night, you answer immediately. you couldn't help the raise of your eyebrows and a badly restrained wheeze at the voice of the stoic, composed butler.

“….alfred? you want me to come over to wayne manor… now?"

all in all, you've seen so much over the years that you were confident almost nothing could actually, truly phase you or surprise you.

what you definitely weren’t accounting for when you pushed open the grand doors of bruce’s bedroom — was the sight of two fluffy, slender ears twitching up at you.

your whole body freezes, completely locks in place. 

you never freeze — in all the years of superheroing, of being in front of the camera and paparazzi and navigating your secret, double life as a normal citizen.

you think your jaw is somewhere glued on the floor. you’re rooted to the threshold of the large bedroom, eyes trapped on the twitch of smokey grey cat ears on the head of gotham’s most elite, the infamous playboy, the dark knight himself.

steely blue-green eyes instantly snap to you. bruce sits stiffly on the edge of his enormous bed, all muscle of him tense and coiled. the room is deadly silent, save for the erratic swish of a fluffy tail coiled into the sheets.

he's not hunched over; no, in bruce fashion he's wound too tight, back straight and shoulders tensed in his long-sleeve black shirt. his grey slacks are pulled taunt on powerful thighs, his jaw locked. 

any other person might think he was underreacting — too calm.

but you can instantly tell, one look and you know. 

“bruce—“

“stop.”  his voice was instant, quiet but stone cold, flat. carefully stripped of any emotion. but strangely, his extra features reacted before your eyes against his knowledge.

his ears flatten to the raven black locs on his head. his tail gave a series of tight flicks, anxiety wound tight in every movement.

any other person would be stunned to silence by his behavior, his cold indifference. you see this side of him often — on comms in the field when the Batman's steely voice cuts sharply in your ear, when he leads night debriefs with the justice leauge, jaw tight and voice a whisper as he grills everyone on a small mistake. 

but you aren't any other person. because when bruce is Batman, losing himself in the darkness, you find him. you don't try to pull him out of it immediately like the Flash, you don't harsh it with well-intentioned, but stark words like martain manhunter; you sit in it with him.

you approach slowly across the expansive hardwood floors. “when did this… development happen?” trying the analytic approach, as you know the Batman defaults to.

a pause, then his gruff voice hisses out the words like it physcially pains him to even describe it. “couple hours ago. long mission tracking a suspected magic user across gotham. thought I could handle it myself — did handle it — right before they cast an insignia on my cape. I realized too late."

blue eyes watch as you take a seat on the edge of the bed. close to him, possibly closer than most would dare to get. but still silently respectful of his personal space. 

you don't break eye contact with bruce, intentional in the way your body shifts towards him. 

“…why call me?” your question is soft, unguarded, no malice — only pure confusion.

you watch bruce’s face, which is usually so cool, schooled into a neutral, flat expression — flicker. fuzzy ears swivel and you watch him fight the urge to cover them, his hands flexing into fists for a flash of a second. his tail lashes once against the bed, tip of it curling and uncurling in on itself.

you’ve seen bruce in many ways. injured from the job, grimacing in pain, laughing dryly at one of hal's jokes, his media-trained smile to the paparazzi before entering some expensive gala, and the genuine one you got to know— but you’ve never seen this.

he’s nervous.

his eyes met yours. “because I wanted you here.”

the words land with all the delicacy of a nuclear bomb. 

you swallow the knot in your throat. there's no name to what you and bruce have been… building over the years as you gained seniority in the field. more duo missions. newspaper clippings of your elegant form twisting through the air — and the dark shadow of wings behind you. the press and fans ran with the stories, the tabloids crafting a popular love story for the public to feed off of. 

the two dark and mysterious heros of gotham… the headlights practically wrote themselves.

and of course you both are aware of it — the whole justice leauge are. your coworkers turned close friends were respectful of each others private lives — who better to understand the importance of boundaries than the most popular superheros in the world? — but they still teased here and there.

like the shared, knowing glances across the meeting table when you announced mission pairings together. no questions asked, but always a small smirk or smile.

nothing has directly happened between you and bruce over the years, but you feel the tension. the same way you can feel the quiet pressure of his eyes on you during conversations.

the quiet check-ins after a particularly brutal mission, the occasional phone calls, the late nights of patching each other up in the bat cave, bruised and beaten but finding moments of quiet, exhausted laughter. 

you finally pull your attention to the mass of fluff on top of his head. maybe it's to deflect from the moment, to avoid and vehemently ignore the rising flush you feel on your skin. or the way his eyes track you easily, watching every minute expression on your crumbling visage.

he's close now. was it him or you that got closer, narrowing the space across the bed? 

"you know that my powers can't help with… this. there's a wide range of magic users in gotham. they couldn't help?" you said quietly, watching his ears still pinned tight to his head. your head swarms with possible contacts. diana, for one — she might tease, but her demigod background could provide insight to magical ailments.

they gave a small twich. "tried that," he gruffly admitted. "got told it's a… complex curse. won't wear off until tomorrow. ran DNA tests, counterfit blood analysis, nothing. computer database couldn't find anything on it, some type of foreign, extraterrestrial strand."

you stifle a laugh — classic, an inconvenience at best but definitely casted by the magic-wielder in a petty attempt to leave the dark knight frustrated after being caught. 

"can I touch them?"

bruce's blue eyes lock on yours. his eyebrows raise. you watch his ears perk up against his neatly styled hair, swiveling to face you. 

you meet his eyes, a small smile lighting up your features at his sigh. one nod — that's all he gives you. you take it with glee. 

tentatively, you let your hands brush the soft fur. they twitch violently under your palms and you catch the small changes in his expressions. his strong shoulders begin to soften, body slumping towards you as bruce's eyes squint in… pleasure?

a deep, rymthic rumbling tickles your palm. bruce wayne, well-known playboy, dark knight of gotham city — purring. it's quiet and almost more a sensation than a sound, but the image alone is enough to startle you again to numb silence. 

you immediately try to ignore the warm sensation coursing through you at the sight. 

he shoots up like he was burned, his dress shoes already clicking straight towards the door. "this was stupid. I apologize for asking you here. alfred can show you out—"

"bruce." your voice is firm, grounding. he stops clear of the door, his shoulders stiff. he doesn't turn around — no, but his ears turn around to face you.

your hand pats the bed, voice low and warm. "you called me here. I want to help."

you let a teasing tone lit your voice as you add, "and I can't possibly walk away from the opportunity to see the bruce wayne… like this." 

he turns around and you spy a small smirk on his face. "you're a menace."

"and yet you invited me," you supplied helpfully, watching with a gleam in your eye as he sat again beside you. 

"and I'm starting to wonder if I'm loosing my better judgement." bruce shoots back, blue eyes equally as amused as you let out a warm laugh.

you pause as you feel his large, calloused hands reach for your own. he brings them back up to his head, all muscle of him leaning down to arch into you as you slowly stroke his ears.

the purring come back, slow and quiet, then louder as you press closer. his hair becomes messy under your gentle strokes, loosening around his face and framing the faint rosy blush on his face. 

"I don't… know why… this feels so good." he mutters lowly. you sush him, another strike of arousal swirling through you at the honest words leaving his lips.

one of his thighs bumps yours — a large, straining imprint pokes from his trousers. you suck in a harsh breath. bruce's eyes flutter open and you're struck by the intensity in them, a dark swirl in a blue haze.

his hand takes yours again. you feel the warm press of his lips on your hand, the scratch of his stubble, lingering as he then guides your hand

down

down

down.

one word, whispered in the small space between you. "please." 

bruce wayne lays bare underneath you in the dim lighting of the room, the lurch of his cock leaving a dark imprint in his briefs.

his eyes find yours in the darkness, watching as you watch him — his ragged breaths pushing past pale skin. his muscles strain as you run a slow hand down his abdomen, circling the divot in his v-line with something close to worship. 

you've seen him shirtless, briefly, in short glances when he's stripping off pieces of his shredded suit after a mission, but never this. the scars along his body tell of infinite stories of how he had to become the Bat, what trials he had to overcome to hone his body to accomplish what he's capable of now.

and all that strength is still there — in the twitch of his jaw when you lean forward over him, in the way his hands clench on the meat of your thighs in a bruising grip, in the way his abs clench and contract with every touch you leave.

he's holding back for you. because of you.

you reach down and finally release him from the tight confines of his briefs, watching in quiet awe as his cock slaps wetly onto his stomach. it's flushed an angry red at the tip, long and curved. 

bruce sucks in a sharp breath between bitten lips. you watch every change in his expression as you start languidly stroking him. you take pleasure in the way he groans under you but doesn't move, no, instead letting you toy with him.

his fuzzy tail snakes to wrap around your ankle. curious, you stroke one of his ears at the same pace of your other hand —

that does it.

"baby please," that pleading rasp, his hands pulling you closer. he stumbles over his next words, overwhelmed by the new sensation, by the smell of your skin, the heat rising from your body. his eyes swim with embarrassment, but stronger still, need. overwhelming need. 

"I'm not going to last long." bruce grinds out, tail giving a lash in warning. 

you coo down at him with a knowing smile, tightening your grip with a hard jerk to his tip. leaning down, you let your lips brush his ear as you whisper. "I'm here bruce. let go for me."

something akin to a sob rips from his throat. you feel the hot splash of him coming undone in your hand and onto his stomach. 

you sit up with a satisfied grin, moving to give him space and release his ears but you don't get far.

strong hands spin you around and suddenly your back is pressed against the plushness of the bed. "bruce— what—" 

blue eyes glint dangerously in the light. words die on your throat as the dark knight leans over you, powerful arms bracketing you in place. caging you. 

the lash of a dark tail cuts across the dark as he speaks. you almost don't recognize his voice, a heated purr that makes you shiver. your mind briefly wanders to the bruce that the paparazzi praises, the confident, rich playboy.

clean, sharp cologne wraps you in a haze. you gulp.

"I've been very… patient tonight. good, even. don't you think I deserve a reward?" 

safe to stay, you don't leave for the night.

of course this is my first time writing for bruce and it's... whatever this is. what can I say, inspiration strikes in strange ways! I'm a firm believer in bottom!bruce supremacy!

@ starrkuma 2026— all rights reserved. please support by reposting or leaving a comment !