Dating Dick Grayson

— dating dick grayson

ੈ✩‧₊˚ sfw & nsfw under the cut

PAIRING: dick grayson x fem!reader WARNINGS: there is some nsfw content underneath the cut (i labelled it so it can't be missed). there are also mentions of fighting, cuts, bruises, general vigilante stuff. SUMMARY: just some cute (and some spicy) headcanons for dating our beloved nightwing

NOTE: I love writing for this character so much — specifically because I've heard from sooooo many people that my boyfriend looks exactly like him. It actually became such a recurring joke with my friend group that we dressed up as Dick & Barbara Gordon for homecoming. But the resemblance is so uncanny it's actually insane — hence why I love this character so much. I hope you guys enjoy this thing I wrote at three in the morning!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ sfw

Dick is so protective, just as a person. Of family, of friends, and especially of you.

If you're a Titan like him, he's the first to jump to your side in a fight — not because he doesn't think you can handle yourself (he knows you can) but because he can't bear not having you in his eye line during a fight. If something were to happen when his back was turned, he'd never quite be able to get over it.

In the middle of the fight, he's constantly shouting to you, asking if you're okay, if you need help. And after the fight he's the first one to you, asking if you're hurt.

And if you're a civilian and you somehow get caught in the middle of his work? Oh my God this man will lose it. His top priority disappears and is instantly replaced by making sure you're safe and well out of the way of danger.

The 'patching up each other's wounds' trope is strong with Dick

He always wants to know how and why each little cut and bruise got there

❝ Wait, where did this one come from? ❞ ❝ Remember when the guy pulled out all those little throwing knives? ❞ ❝ Ah. ❞

I feel like his love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch — he loves both giving and receiving them.

He'll always pull you aside to tell you he loves you before he goes into a fight.

He'll reassure you with forehead kisses instead of kisses on the lips. They just feel more safe and comforting.

But the ultimate way he makes you feel safe and comfortable is by cuddling. He loooooves cuddling.

Nothing makes him happier than wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight to him. He loves falling asleep that way, tangled up together, because it lets him know that you feel completely safe around him.

He knows he can be an imposing person, so he always does his best to make you and everyone else feel safe around him.

And let's be honest, that man is a giant teddy bear.

But he can be pretty scary when he wants to be.

Like I kind of said earlier, if someone is messing with you, he's the first one to be by your side to defend you

At the end of the day, he loves coming home to you and knowing that you'll be there for him every step of the way.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ nsfw — mentions of hickeys, oral (f & m receiving), praise, roughness, fingering

Dick is a pretty selfless person — he's always concerned about other people, he's a bit of a people pleaser, etc.

Thus I firmly believe he's a giver over a receiver.

They don't call him Dick for nothing—

He also definitely has a praise kink, both for giving praise and receiving it.

His favorite, of course, is calling you a ❝ Good girl ❞ and telling you how well you're doing.

He loves to go down on you. There's nothing he finds more beautiful than looking up at you from in between your legs, seeing your face contorted in pleasure as he brings you over the edge.

He also looooves when you pull his hair. It's a sign that he's doing well at making you feel good. This ties in with the whole praise thing.

He never pressures you into anything and always makes sure to get consent before doing something.

He also loves to wake you up by going down on you. He obviously asked for consent the night before, but he just loves the surprise of it.

Or he'll even just wake you up by pressing kisses to your neck and gently fingering you

It isn't until you're awake and moaning that he'll smirk at you and say good morning.

The auDACITY

And if you want to go down on him? I mean...he won't refuse.

I don't think his initial instinct is to be very vocal, but once he feels perfectly comfortable and safe with you, oh Lord is he vocal.

He's a very gentle person in general, but every once in a while he needs to let off some steam.

You'll come back from a fight and you'll barely have the time to shut the bedroom door before he's pulling you to him and kissing you.

The suit stays ON

He can get a little rough, but he always makes sure that you're okay with what he's doing.

But he loves after care — and he's great at it too

Like I said earlier, he's a cuddler, but if you're both up for it he'll jump in a shower with you

He doesn't normally like to leave marks because he doesn't want the others to start asking questions, but every once in a while he likes giving you a hickey or two.

But he places them strategically on your collarbone, where they'll be just barely hidden by your shirts and revealed by the merest tug on the neckline (and yes he does take advantage of this)

You're a little more enthusiastic about hickeys than he is

Luckily, in his, er, line of work (???) hickeys can more often be explained away as bruises

Like if it ever gets brought up, he just brushes it off.

❝ What's on your neck? ❞ ❝ It's uh, just a bruise. ❞ ❝ Oh. Looks like a hickey. ❞

Dick will just kind of freeze up, caught of guard by the directness of that statement, and you'll just smile and wrap an arm around him, pressing a kiss directly to the so-called ❝ bruise. ❞

AWW THANK YOU SO MUCH! And no worries, I totally understand!

hiiiii hazel!! i absolutely adore your writing and i was wondering if i could get a small blurb for wednesday addams with the dialogue prompts "we make a pretty good team."

thank you so much! have a lovely lovely day <3

heyy honey!! congratulations on 200 <33 and I love love ur idea but I'm currently not taking requests!! maybe in the future I'll definitely write this 🫂 and I think u are one of the most talented writers on here! 💋

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃. STARTS — JANUARY 2 ENDS — JANUARY 5

Hi everyone! Sooooo I just discovered that I hit ONE HUNDRED FOLLOWERS???? HELLO???????? That is insane and I am literally so grateful for each and every one of you. I wanted to come on here and do a little sumn sumn to show how much I appreciate all of you, and this is what I came up with! Hope you enjoy and thank you all again for 100 followers!!

HOW TO PLAY: pick a character/characters + and prompt, and then send me an ask with both of them. Also please specify if you'd like a drabble or a headcanon, otherwise I will automatically default to a headcanon. For the promts you can just send the corresponding number to whichever prompt you'd like. Send me the ask and I'll write you whatever you want! Fair warning, there are some smutty prompts in the list, so I'll put a little asterisk* by those so you'll know to expect a smutty drabble. Asks can be anon or otherwise, just send in whatever combo you like! Enjoy!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Wednesday Addams

Xavier Thorpe

Tyler Galpin

Rowan Laslow

Jeff Winger

Abed Nadir

Harry Potter

Cedric Diggory

Hermione Granger

Ginny Weasley

Peter Parker (MCU)

Peter Parker (TASM)

Bruno Carrelli

Matt Murdock

Kate Bishop

Eddie Brock

Regulus Black

Remus Lupin

James Potter

Lily Evans

Sirius Black

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Rachel Roth

Gar Logan

Stiles Stilinski

Liam Dunbar

Theo Raeken

Gilbert Blythe

Theseus Scamander

Jules Paxton

Nick Nelson

Anakin Skywalker

Five Hargreeves

Peeta Mellark

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬)

“why are you really here? to mock me? to… make me hate you more?” “no. none of that. i came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now.” (this post)

“they would be so mad if they found out.” “fuck ‘em” (this post)

“please, for the love of god, shut up for once.” “why don’t you come over here and make me?” (this post)*

“i’m tired of having to pretend we hate each other.” (this post)

“you’re annoying, you know that?” (this post)

" it's alright... it's okay... i'm here now. i've got you. " (this post)

" who did this to you?"

"we make a pretty good team." (this post)

" you never need to apologize to me. ever. and certainly not for crying... " (this post)

"Hey! Hey, it was just a nightmare. You're okay. I'm right here."

“What, did you think I kissed you all these times because I was doing it for the shits and giggles?” “…Let’s be real, you did have a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public.” (this post)

“I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re— they’re only temporary, I swear. I—I’ll get over you. Just please don’t leave me—” “Did you ever think, that maybe, I don’t want you getting over me? What if I don’t want these feelings to be only temporary? That maybe I... Like you, too?” (this post)

“I didn’t mean to fall for you.” “And neither did I.” “…Fucking pardon?”  (this post)

"this is a one-time thing only. don't let me being nice to you get to your head." (this post)*

"Make me." *

"Wait! Can you maybe stay? I don't want to be alone tonight."

"This is why I love you."

“if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs” (this post)*

“is that my shirt?” (this post)

“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?” (this post)

— 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 + 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬

21. Enemies to Lovers 22. Friends to Lovers 23. Childhood Best Friends to Lovers 24. Only One Bed 25. Forced Proximity 26. Cuddling 27. Co-Workers 28. Sharing Earbuds 29. Sickness 30. Halloween 31. Christmas 32. Nightmare 33. Scary Movie 34. Coffee 35. Unrequited Love 36 Academic Rivals to Lovers. 37. Forbidden Romance 38. Stargazing 39. Mornings 40. Going to sleep 41. Date 42. Hug 43. Panic 44. Mutual Pining 45. Friends with Benefits to Lovers

HOUSE OF MIRRORS (PART THREE)

PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE

pairing: rowan laslow x fem!reader warnings: blood, injuries. not gonna lie...this one gets a lil smutty. NO SPOILERS but there is some smutty content in here — THEY'RE ALSO BOTH OVER EIGHTEEN AT THIS POINT (there's nothing too serious or descriptive, but there is some mentions of doing the deed).

summary: with six days to stop the end of the world, rowan and y/n set to work. note: welcome to the longest part yet :) i really hope you guys like this one, it's been KILLING ME to get it done but i'm quite proud of it! I think there's only one more part after this and then that'll be the end, so stay tuned for our penultimate chapter...

Day one.

Rowan and Y/n met in the library that morning. It was cold, and neither of them could have ever predicted the day would come when they would face each other without the intention to kill. Still Y/n kept a knife in her sock and kept him at an arm's distance. Rowan kept his up his sleeve.

"I thought my mother was crazy when she predicted the end of the world." Y/n said as they hunched over a table at the back. "At first, she said it would end in ice. Then, fire. Then, water. She said the visions kept changing. I couldn't believe a word she said - no one could. I didn't show up in the visions until about six months ago. Needless to say, she got to work pretty quick..." she trailed off.

It was when she said things like that that Rowan felt guilt for trying to end her life. He never really cared about the whole 'You never know what someone is going through' crap, but, with her, he understood. If he had known what she had been going through for over a half a year, he would've thought twice before he picked up the knife.

"The only constant in my mother's visions was you. She never said how the world ended, just that you were at the center of it." he replied.

Y/n just laughed. "That's not a lot to go on." she said bitterly. "I would say we need to go to the source, but I'd rather jump off a cliff before making contact with mother dearest. Shadow is enough. And I don't suppose—"

"My mother is dead." Rowan said before she could finish the sentence. "Nothing there to figure out."

Y/n shut her mouth quickly, giving a nod. "Right. I'm sorry."

He just nodded in response and they put their heads back down, beginning to work.

Day two.

Rowan showed up the next morning with the picture. He set it down in front of her before she ever said a word, leading her to look up at him in confusion. "Take up drawing?"

Rowan just stared back at her. "My mother drew this when she was a student at Nevermore." he explained. "This is Joseph Crackstone, the founder of Jericho—" he pointed to a shadowy figure in the picture "—and this—" he pointed to a silhouette of a girl standing across from him, "is you."

She looked at him like he was stupid. "And you show me this now?"

He just rolled his eyes and sat down next to her.

Day three.

Rowan and Y/n met in the library once more, but they were only starting to get somewhere when Y/n paused mid-sentence, going suddenly silent. It took Rowan a second to notice, but when he finally looked up, he saw her frozen, eyes locked on something across the room. He followed her gaze and saw the slightest flicker of a black, shadowy figure darting around the stacks of books. Y/n muttered a curse under her breath and began hurriedly gathering things together. They didn't speak to each other as they did this, but both of them knew well enough what was happening: Shadow was back.

They ran across the courtyard as Y/n insisted upon peeking around each corner before actually turning directions. And Rowan just followed, knowing that she knew how to elude Shadow better than anyone.

As they ran up the staircase, a familiar face came into view — Xavier Thorpe. When he saw the two of them together, Rowan's hand locked in hers, he frowned. Rowan cursed silently.

"Hey guys," he said, stopping a couple stairs above them.

"Hi." Y/n said quickly, trying to make this conversation as short as possible.

He looked between them in confusion, sensing the urgency. "What's going on?"

"We were just heading up to my dorm—" Y/n cut herself off, realizing how that sounded only after she said it. She pursed her lips, trying hard not to cringe at her own words.

"To study." Rowan added quickly. "We're studying for the Botany test."

Again, Xavier looked confused. "That test was last week, Ro."

Y/n subtly elbowed Rowan in the ribs. "He meant math! We have a math test next class that we really need to study for, so if you could just excuse us—"

"What's going on with you two?" Xavier said, stopping Y/n's attempt to push past him. "It's like, every time I see either of you, you're together. Is there something...going on between you guys?"

"No!" Y/n shouted at the same time Rowan shouted "Yes!"

Then, to correct, they shouted again.

"Yes!"

"No!"

They paused, looking at each other with wide eyes. Then, Y/n turned back around, taking a breath. "Yes. Rowan and I are...together. Dating." she said quickly, resisting the urge to vomit.

Xavier was taken aback. He raised his eyebrows as he looked between them, seemingly in disbelief. "Wow," he said finally. "That's, um...great. Congrats?" he said.

Truly, he was just surprised that it ended up being Y/n. She was...well, to put it lightly, scary. Rowan didn't really do scary. (Or, maybe he did.)

"No congratulations necessary." Y/n said quickly, feeling like she was swallowing bile. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to go...study."

She didn't give Xavier time to ask more questions before taking Rowan's hand again and pulling him up the stairs, moving as fast as her legs would take her.

She kept up that pace until they reached her dorm, where Rowan took out his inhaler. She pulled the pendant off from around her neck and placed it in front of the door. "Keep watch." she said.

Alethea's voice appeared in her head: Move quickly. He's coming fast.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Rowan asked as she dragged the huge mirror out of her closet.

He could've heard it wrong, but he could've sworn she let out a breathless laugh. "The one time your chivalry will get you nowhere, Rowan, is when you're dealing with a Shadow."

She surrounded the room with mirrors just as the pendant soared past Rowan's head and landed in her hand. "Come on. Go!" she shouted, pushing him through. She had stepped one foot through when a growl caught her attention. She whipped her head around and there was Shadow, standing at the front of her dorm.

There were very few things that invoked true fear in Y/n. Shadow was one of them. Which is why she shouted the mirror shattering incantation when she was only halfway through the portal.

"Contritus!"

Y/n collapsed on the other side as the mirror shattered, a scream ripping through her throat. For a second, Rowan frowned, breathless. Then he saw what it was she had to scream about.

The bottom half of her right calf was torn and bloodied beyond recognition. Just looking at him made him feel sick — he couldn't imagine how she felt.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Y/n took in a huge, sobbing breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Black spots danced across her vision otherwise. The pain was worse than she had ever felt, so much so that she wasn't sure she could put on a brave face. So she stayed there, her face buried in her arm, nose barely scraping the floor, breathing so heavily that it hid the sobs that tried to escape her throat.

Rowan was at her side in an instant, and that just made her feel worse. If there was one lesson her mother taught her, it was that you never let anyone see you in pain. Ever. And she was in the worst pain she had ever been in. A voice in her head cried out for her mother — or, perhaps, another version of her mother. One that would take her in her arms and tell her that the pain was temporary, but respect is nearly impossible to get back.

But instead it was Rowan that reached out to hold her. It was Rowan that she lifted her head for. Rowan that she held onto as she bit back sobs, burying her head in his shoulder to stop herself from screaming.

When the pain had subsided enough that she could talk, she pulled off her blazer and, trying not to look at the bloodied mess her leg had become, tied it around it to staunch the bleeding. "It shattered before my leg went through." she explained. "I'm lucky it's still attached."

Rowan watched her work for a moment in gruesome silence, and then, deciding that he'd prefer not to throw up right then, employed himself by brushing the hair out of her face as she tied the blazer. "Yeah, lucky." he muttered. "Can you stand?"

She blew out a breath. "Let's see."

With immense effort (from both herself and from Rowan), she pushed herself up onto one leg. A shaky smile stretched onto her lips. "Piece of cake." she muttered, and then tried to set her other foot down. The resulting pain was so blinding that she staggered, toppling sideways. Rowan caught her as she swore at the top of her lungs, wishing the whole damn thing had come off rather than this.

"That's a no on walking, then."

"Shut up, Laslow."

Rowan helped her over to her bed, where she gently rested her injured leg atop the sheets. She leaned forward to inspect it. "Definitely hurts the most of all my injuries, but it doesn't look nearly as bad as my worst."

Rowan looked at her, bewildered. "What did the worst look like?" he asked. Then, before she could answer, he put a hand up to stop her. "Wait. I don't want to know. Forget I asked."

Y/n rolled her eyes, muttering something about him being 'no fun,' and then laid down on her bed. "The first thing I learned about my powers is that mirrors are not forgiving. They show you what's truly there — nothing else. And sometimes they do their best to break it. That's why people with vitrikinesis tend to die young. It's a cruel blessing." she said. "It's the same with Seers. Visions are no joke, especially when they show you things you don't want to see." she paused, laughing slightly. "But I don't need to tell you that, do I?"

Rowan only responded by interlacing their fingers. "I always trusted my mother's visions. But right now I'm really hoping she was wrong."

"She wasn't."

"How do you know?"

"I just do, okay?" she snapped. "No use trying to convince yourself otherwise."

Rowan sighed, deciding not to fight her on that. Her head suddenly tilted to the side like she was hearing voices. "Shadow's still there. Little shit." she muttered, looking out the window. "It's dark. Maybe he's decided to have a slumber party."

"You have to get out of here." Rowan said. "You're going to bleed to death before he leaves."

"I'll be fine," she said with a wave of her hand, "I've been through much worse."

That was a lie. She had not been through worse.

"If I'm being honest, that doesn't make me feel any better."

He began to pace, leading Y/n to drop her head in exasperation. "Rowan, calm down."

"Calm down? You're bleeding out!"

"That's debatable."

"We're being hunted by your mother's henchman!"

"Not the first time."

"And we're not even close to figuring out how to stop the apocalypse!"

Y/n paused. "Okay, that I can't argue with."

"Stop it." Rowan said, pointing a finger at her. "Stop being so calm and collected about this."

She cocked her head at him, her face and voice flat and emotionless. "Would you rather I screamed and cried hysterically — would that calm you down? I can't pace because my leg's been shredded, I can't breathe unevenly because it may make me pass out, and I can't move too much or else I might disrupt the wound and bleed out at your feet. My options are very limited, Rowan. So no, I will not stop being calm. I will be very fucking calm. And I suggest you do the same unless you want me to take the last bit of my energy and use it to grab your inhaler and stomp on it with my one good foot."

That got him to shut up. For a moment he just glared at her while she looked back at him, entirely unbothered. Then, she patted a spot on the bed next to her. "Sit."

He thought about complaining, but decided against it. He sat down next to her, leaning back on the headboard. She shifted so that she was looking up at him, a small pout on her face. If he'd been out of his mind, he would've almost thought it was adorable.

Maybe I am out of my mind. Maybe we both are.

"Clock's ticking." she muttered. "My time's half up. Sure you don't want to end the party a little early?"

Rowan looked back at her. She was serious. He brushed a hand through her hair. "Not yet."

She seemed unsatisfied with that answer.

He laid down next to her and she put her head on his chest, letting him wrap an arm around her. Her leg was still pulsating with pain, but she did her best to ignore it, shutting her eyes and hoping sleep took her quickly. And, mercifully, it did. It was only when he was sure that she was sound asleep that Rowan allowed himself to close his eyes and join her.

Shadow would be gone within the hour, but Y/n and Rowan slept soundly where they were, happy to shut out the world for one night.

Day four.

The nurse looked like she'd seen a ghost when she saw Y/n's leg. Her eyes slowly trailed from the bloodied, congealed mess up to Y/n's placid face. "Can you fix it? I'd like to get to the library to study."

She emerged an hour later, limping. Her calf had been wrapped in what looked like several rolls of gauze. She smiled at Rowan when she saw him outside, waiting for her. "I negotiated my way out of going to the hospital."

Rowan just pursed his lips. "That's comforting."

Day five.

Y/n didn't show up to the library that day. He went to her dorm, he went to her classes, but she wasn't there. She had disappeared. This, of course, worried him. He wondered if she had gone ahead and offed herself like she had wanted — but, God, he really hoped she hadn't.

It wasn't until the sky had gone dark and rain started to pour from the heavens that his search came to an end. As he walked along the green, he looked up and saw a silhouette perched on the highest roof of Nevermore, looking up at the sky above them.

If anyone was stupid enough to go up there, it was Y/n.

Without a second to think about what he was doing, he went inside and climbed up the stairs to the roof. He wasn't quite sure what he'd say to her, but it was something along the lines of Get the f-ck down.

The rain was pouring by the time he emerged onto the roof, making every step more and more treacherous. She didn't hear his arrival over the thunder above them and continued to lie on her back, eyes closed, feeling the rain on her face as she let the static in her head continue to buzz.

"Y/n!"

Her eyes opened. Damn him. "What do you want, Rowan?"

"You're going to fall, Y/n. You already hurt yourself once. Get down. " he said, doing his best to keep his voice level.

"Why? If I fell now I'd be doing you a favor. I'd be doing the whole world a favor, actually." she slurred, and Rowan wondered momentarily if she had gotten drunk before she came up there. That just made this situation all the worse. What he wanted to do was go out there and get her — drag her out before she could hurt herself. They still have thirty hours left to figure all of this out, and he'd be damned if he let a second of it go to waste.

"So that's just it, then." he said, forgetting to hide the irritation in his voice. "You're giving up? Playing with your life like it's some kind of game?"

"It's been a game from the beginning, Rowan!" she shouted, still lying stock still on the roof. "From the first moment we met, it's been a game. Kill him, kill her, get the upper hand, get in a punch. And trying to act like you care is just...it's embarrassing, Rowan. For both of us. So do me a favor and drop the act."

That stung. But right now he was focused on getting her off the roof. So he'd swallow his pride, and he'd step further onto the roof, closer to her. "It's not an act." he tried to argue.

"Everyone's acting. No one's okay." she said exaggeratedly. "Everyone acts all the time because no one wants to say what they really mean now."

She wasn't making any sense now, but he continued to take cautious steps towards her.

"We all just dance around what we really want to say, and then one day we all look back and regret it. I just hope I go before I have the time to regret it too much."

There was a pause. Y/n sat up, dangling her legs off the edge of the roof in the pouring rain, and Rowan's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. She seemed to be staring down, thinking intently to herself.

She muttered something to herself. "Better yet..."

She stood so suddenly that Rowan stumbled and nearly fell, icy cold panic rushing in for just the briefest moment. She walked over to him, seemingly without a single care at all if she slipped and fell, and still she managed not to stumble. That confused Rowan more than anything else. Suddenly she was in front of him and he saw that her face was red and tear-stained.

"This isn't a game. And it's not an act." he said quietly. "The sooner you realize that, the sooner we can actually get something done."

He expected her to snap at him then, but instead she just smirked. "I always liked your voice, Rowan." she said. "So much deeper than I expected. So calm and yet so...deadly. I couldn't get it out of my head. You would threaten me and all I'd hear is my name in your voice. You'd tell me you were going to kill me and all I could hear was you whispering in my ear. It drove me insane."

Now he was just confused. She betrayed any sense of sadness or panic with her words, leading him to wonder just how much practice she'd had at hiding what she really felt. She paused again, as if questioning if she should say what she planned to say. Then, she suddenly met his eyes. "If you knew the world was going to end tomorrow, what would you do?"

She stepped closer to him, and suddenly Rowan had an answer. Before he could say it, her lips were on his and she was backing him to the wall.

His hands tangled in her hair as her tongue brushed his bottom lip, and they stumbled through the door. Without a word, Y/n took his hand and pulled him down the stairs. Neither of them spoke as she dragged him through the halls, finally pulling him into her dorm and shutting the room behind them.

Her question continued to run through Rowan's head as her lips trailed down his jaw to his neck: If you knew the world was going to end tomorrow, what would you do?

It would be this, he thought. It would be this.

Day six.

Visions of the night before came rushing back — Rowan pulling her in closer, Rowan whispering in her ear, Rowan kissing her neck, Rowan's head between her legs.

They had both sort of fumbled through the whole thing, really. It had been a lot of accidental elbowing and awkward laughter and hasty apologies, but at the end of it all it was Rowan's hand in hers refusing to let go.

She was the first to wake up and spent a few minutes on her side, looking at Rowan's sleeping form. A little voice in her head told her to turn around and run the other way, that this was not the way things were supposed to go. But another, louder voice told her to hold tight to him and not let go — apocalypse be damned.

Okay, maybe I have really lost it now.

Okay but can I get a Wednesday x reader on how her and Wednesday argue when it gets really bad💕 maybe reader walks out and they both make up after giving each other space

𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 -> w. addams

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi yes???? I love this so much?????? Healthy relationships?????? Thank you so much for your wonderful words???? But seriously I love this kind of angsty fluff stuff fr...this is how I survive in this cruel, cruel world HAHA. Also I'm pretty sure I've used the phrase "thaw her frozen heart" in a Wednesday fic before, but oh well! I'm a sucker for stuff like that. Hope you enjoy this one! I'm really proud of this :') (Also peep the little gif paragraph break thingie I made on Photoshop...I'm a little too proud of it...)

PAIRING: wednesday addams x gn!reader WARNINGS: arguing

ARGUING WITH WEDNESDAY ADDAMS IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. She's as sadistic as they come, even when not mildly discontented (which in Wednesday Speak is as close as you can get to happy), and she never backs down from a fight. And, though a lot of Wednesday's sharp edges become a bit dull around you, that doesn't mean that she'll let you win an argument.

"You can't just endanger someone's life because they bother me, Wednesday!" you shouted. That particular argument was nasty — while you and Wednesday fit together seamlessly most of the time, she occasionally did things that you just couldn't agree with.

This time Wednesday's target had been Leah. Leah was one of the Scales, and one of the more insufferable ones at that. For the past week or so, Leah had for some reason chosen you as the target of her constant torture. She tripped you during class, used her siren song to make you humiliate yourself in front of the school, and on one occasion even managed to push you down the main staircase without anyone around her seeing. Wednesday had seen, of course. Wednesday always saw.

So she concocted a plan: she sent Leah a fake letter in her boyfriend's handwriting, telling her to meet him at a very specific location in the woods near Nevermore. As expected, Leah took the bait and made her way deep into the woods after dark. Instead of finding her boyfriend there, she was met with a pack of hungry wolves — and she quickly noticed that someone had sewn raw meat into the pockets of her clothing.

Leah returned to school half an hour later — out of breath, scratched around the ankles, and terrified. Wednesday watched her return with a smug grin — all it took was one look at her and you knew instantly this had been her doing.

Wednesday hadn't really expected you to be pleased (she had made peace with the fact that you two had very different moral codes), but she certainly hadn't expected you to react like this. "I only inflict pain upon people who deserve it," she said, her monotone voice never wavering in resolve, "and Leah deserved it."

"You don't get to decide that!" you said, rage curling your hands into fists.

"Would you rather be pushed around and ridiculed for the rest of the semester?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but your throat constricted and tears rushed to your waterline before you could get a word out. You paused, taking in a breath and willing your voice to steady. "I don't need you to fight my battles, Wednesday. If you can't respect that, then..." you trailed off, not quite sure where you were going next. Then maybe this isn't going to work out. You stopped yourself just short of putting the end in sight, not wanting to say something you didn't really believe and might regret later. Instead, you bit down on your tongue hard enough to draw blood. You blinked the tears away as you took one last look at Wednesday's stoic face and walked out, slamming the door to her dorm room behind you.

Wednesday watched you go with a bitter taste on her tongue — and not the kind she liked. You had had your arguments in the past, but you had never walked out on her. Unlike Wednesday, you were a stickler for talking things out right then and there, clearing the air before things got too ugly. But this time it had been too much. She had been too much.

Thing crawled onto the desk, having heard the entire argument. Wednesday turned sharply. "What do you want?" she snapped.

"I hope you're going to fix this."

"Why? Clearly they don't care enough to stay and have it out. Why should I be the one to piece things back together?"

Thing said nothing, but sat there in a way that said, Really?

Wednesday grit her teeth. "You're very passive aggressive for a hand."

"You're one to talk," Thing tapped back, "and ouch. Don't you think they might've needed some space?"

Wednesday paused. She hadn't thought of that, actually — not that she'd ever let Thing know that. "Fine then," Wednesday conceded. "What do you suggest?"

And, for once, Wednesday took someone else's advice.

She gave you the space you needed. For the next day and a half you received total radio silence from Wednesday. She still took her seat next to you in class, but she kept as far away from you as possible and didn't attempt conversation — not that Wednesday could ever endure small talk.

Eventually you were so unnerved by her behavior that you spoke to her, leaning over and keeping your voice to a whisper beneath Thornhill's lesson. "Wednesday? What are you doing? Are you alright?" you asked.

"I'm giving you space," she said, not meeting your eye. The words sounded unnatural in her voice. "Thing suggested it," she added quickly.

You sat back in your chair, a perplexed crease forming between your brows. This was very un-Wednesday like behavior. You weren't upset of course, just surprised. Not only at the fact that Wednesday was willingly giving you the space you needed, but that she actually took advice from Thing. It made your heart give a little flutter as you attempted to focus back on the lesson.

Wednesday never paced, but she had never been closer to doing it than she was that evening. She skipped dinner with the intention of writing her novel, but found herself staring at a blank page, unable to write a thing. Rain pounded the large stained glass window on the opposite side of the room. She had never suffered from writer's block before. This was excruciating, and not in a good way. She let out a slow breath, and finally something snapped. That's it.

She got up and strode to the door of her dorm with the intention of meeting you in the courtyard and demanding that you settle your argument from two nights ago, a crack of thunder scoring her sudden outburst. But just as she was about to reach for the doorknob, she heard a knock.

You stood out in the hallway, shivering and soaked with rain, your blazer wrapped tightly around you. The greeting you had prepared was quickly tossed away as you gave a sudden sneeze, a shiver running down your spine. You looked back at Wednesday and the words died on your tongue.

Instantly she pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you and getting one of Enid's fuzzy (revolting) blankets to wrap around your shoulders. Wednesday didn't often have these, God forbid, motherly urges very often, but again, a lot of things about Wednesday changed when she was around you. And the sight of you shaking in the cold on her doorstep was enough to thaw her frozen heart.

Once she was satisfied that you were slowly being warmed up, she stepped back, letting you dry the rain droplets from your cheeks and hair. Thing subtly crawled onto the desk and Wednesday saw it subtly sign out of the corner of her eye: "Talk."

Wednesday set her lips in a grim line. This was the part she always had trouble with. "Y/n —"

"I know you were just trying to protect me, Wednesday," you cut her off quickly. "I know that now, and I appreciate it. I didn't like what Leah was doing, and I know you didn't either, but I needed to try and figure out how to fix it in my own way first. I know that you want to look out for me, but I'm capable of fighting my own battles. I need you to tell me that you understand that."

Wednesday paused. And now she understood. This was what you had been trying to say the night of the argument — you just hadn't been able to get the words out right. Space. Space had allowed you to understand what you needed to say and what you needed to hear. Wednesday understood that now — and more importantly, she could respect it. "I understand," she said, "and I'm sorry."

You almost gasped. Wednesday rarely apologized for the things she did, especially to the people she did them to. But this was genuine.

She continued, "I don't regret what I did to Leah, but I do regret that it hurt you."

You nodded in understanding.

"I don't like seeing the people I love get hurt."

All at once you felt tears rushing to your eyes. Not the bad kind. You pushed them away with a hard swallow, sniffing. "I love you too, Wednesday," you said. "And I promise that if my way of fixing something doesn't work, you'll be the first person I call."

Wednesday felt a rush of something then, something that flushed in her cheeks and almost drew the corners of her lips up. She struggled to stifle it, but every glance at your rosy face made her that much more willing to surrender to it.

"Can I give you a hug?" you asked. You and Wednesday had reached a point where you could hug her without asking first, but you liked to get the clarification every once in a while.

Once you received a brisk nod, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around her and enveloping both of you in Enid's thick purple blanket. Wednesday wrapped her arms around your waist, letting herself bury her head in your shoulder. She allowed herself to enjoy the warmth of being wrapped up with you, holding you tightly and knowing that you were together.

The storm continued to rage outside, but you two were warm and safe in the knowledge that, when you were together, there was nothing that couldn't be fixed.

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎 → g. blythe

pairing: gilbert blythe x fem!reader type: fic request: none warnings: mild angst (but mostly fluff)

prompt/trope: "I like you." A mumbles, almost scared to admit. B absently reaches for A's hand on the railing, a smile forming on their lips. "Can we really do this? Nobody must know-" A throws B's hands on their shoulders, pulling them by their waist. "You and I know, and I think that's--that's more than enough, love." (@urfriendlywriter)

summary: when an accidental glance makes y/n's heart race, she's pushed to make a confession to her best friend, gilbert―who, surprisingly, seems open to a confidential agreement. word count: 1845

One glance. That was all it took. Y/n looked up momentarily from her slate, craned her neck ever so slightly to look beside her, and found a pair of hazel eyes already locked on her. In an instant she saw familiar freckles and curly dark hair, and an instant later they were gone. Gilbert's head snapped away the moment Y/n's eyes met his as he struggled desperately to look instantaneously busy in his studies, but Y/n's head stayed up, a crease forming between her brows as she gazed on, trying to work out why exactly Gilbert's eyes had been on her - and, even more, how long?

"Miss Y/l/n!" Mr. Philips snapped from his place at the desk. "Tear your eyes away from Mr. Blythe for once and focus."

A spattering of giggles from the girls and snickers from the boys coursed over the room. The only two who stayed truly silent were Gilbert and Y/n, who kept their eyes fixed intently on their respective slates so as not to draw any more attention to themselves - or to the other. Y/n's cheeks blazed red (as did Gilbert's although she was too afraid to look up and see it).

But it all begged the question, why? Gilbert and Y/n had been close friends from what seemed like the beginning of time. Well, perhaps friends wasn't the best way to describe how they started out. They began as all children do―by bothering each other. He'd pull her hair and she'd chase him around the schoolyard, throwing insults back and forth until they both ran out of breath. It happened so often that, at some point, they almost began to enjoy it. Soon enough they'd find themselves taking the same path to and from school. They'd use that time to bicker as well, not wanting to walk in awkward silence. Then, eventually, their bickering turned to casual conversation, then to enrapturing discussion about anything―reading, school, the goings on of Avonlea.

But they were friends. That was all. So why was Y/n blushing to high heaven over nothing but a momentary glance?

"Miss Y/l/n! Tear your eyes away from Mr. Blythe for once and focus." Y/n replayed the teacher's scolding again and again in her mind as she walked to town hall. Recently she'd been giving her time to help Miss Lind with the annual Christmas play she put on - with Gilbert. The two had long since grown out of participating, so they volunteered to help in other ways. Miss Lind had put Gilbert in charge of the lighting, seeing as he was the only one who could make sense of the queues and contraptions involved in the process. And Gilbert, quipping that he could only truly stand to be around her for hours at a time, elected Y/n to help him.

Until that day, Y/n had looked forward to rehearsal. But now she found her palms beginning to sweat as the town hall neared, despite the snow that was still surrounding her as she walked.

"Y/n!" Miss Lind exclaimed upon the girl's arrival. "Lovely to see you. Gilbert's already in the loft―go on up and see what you can do to help."

Miss Lind knew to phrase her request in such a way because it was common knowledge that Gilbert was the true brains behind the operation, and Y/n was his less knowledgeable but very teachable assistant. Y/n nodded at Miss Lind's request and left her to continue squawking at the young children singing a very off-key rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Y/n climbed the familiar steps to the upper loft at the back end of the auditorium, feeling her heart race as she did so. She tried with all her might to scold it back to a normal rhythm, but it was no use. All the panic just wormed its way into her mind, her thoughts racing at speeds that were surely unnatural.

Gilbert was indeed already at the loft, close by the railing, tinkering with one of the stands as she tried to raise it a few inches. Y/n stepped quietly so as not to make her presence known immediately, hoping for a few extra seconds to plan how to address him (although she had never quite wondered such a thing before), but her heel brushed a paint can by the landing and caused a great scraping noise that in turn made Gilbert whip around in surprise.

Y/n pursed her lips. "Oops." she muttered.

She heard Gilbert laugh. "Could you stop knocking things over for a moment and help me?" he asked. "I can't quite figure out how this is supposed to work."

"Aren't you supposed to be the expert on lighting?" Y/n quipped, walking over and crouching to look at the light stand from below. "No, no you're doing it wrong―there's a fixture inside that needs to be turned, but it's locked. There should be something on here to unlock it..." she spoke, running her hands along the stand until her fingers grazed a notch. She seized it, pressing tightly until the button depressed, and there was a small click. Immediately the stand began to collapse into itself, lowering at a high speed. Gilbert and Y/n both reached out to stop it and found their hands on top of each other. At once the stand stopped its fall and came to halt, leaving both Gilbert and Y/n breathless.

There was a moment of silence as they both blinked at the stand, making sure it wouldn't fall. Then, Gilbert let out a breath, laughing slightly. "Now who's the expert?" he asked quietly.

Y/n smiled breathlessly back at him, now intently aware of Gilbert's hand atop hers. He froze as well, seemingly noticing the same thing. Y/n's breath hitched. In an instant she removed her hand from the stand and moved away to let Gilbert raise the stand himself. Y/n moved to stand by the railing and looked down upon the rehearsal on the stage. She picked at wood chips on the railing nervously, her hands growing cold.

Gilbert watched her for a moment as she did so before turning back away to fiddle with the light stand. Something gnawed at him as he did so, but he focused on the task ahead of him.

Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek and fiddled with the railing. She couldn't do much about the lighting without Gilbert to instruct her―but she was dead set on not turning around and speaking to him unless absolutely necessary. And, right now, nothing seemed necessary. Not in the slightest.

Finally there was a sigh, and Gilbert moved to stand beside her, placing his own hands on the railing. "What?" he asked lowly.

Y/n didn't meet his eyes, but stared straight ahead of her. "What do you mean?"

"You seem upset." he said gently. "Anything I can do to help?"

Y/n almost laughed at that―Gilbert's not knowing that he was the root cause of all of her worries. "There's nothing you can do, Gilbert. Believe me." she said. "Unless you're up for murdering Mr. Philips?"

"Normally I would say yes, but today I'm feeling like an upstanding citizen. So I guess I'd say...make it look like an accident."

Y/n laughed this time, but a moment later she felt Gilbert take a step closer to her, and her heart beat resumed its incredible pace. She moved away to the other side of the loft almost immediately to try and lower the other stand to meet the other. Gilbert frowned as she moved away.

Y/n lowered the stand with a decisive press, making sure it was level with the one on the other side. Miss Lind was struggling to gather all the actors together on the stage to start from the top of the show, meaning that soon Y/n and Gilbert would be forced into silence as they focused on the show. For Y/n, that couldn't come soon enough.

The show began within the next several minutes, during which Y/n and Gilbert sat in uncomfortable silence as they shuffled around the loft, rearranging things and ensuring everything was in its correct place. Y/n set the light and left it, knowing that she needn't change it for the majority of the show. Gilbert set the other light as well and saw Y/n wander back to the railing, leaning against it and holding onto it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. He frowned.

In a moment, Y/n saw Gilbert lean backward onto the railing beside her out of the corner of her eye and stiffened, gritting her teeth. They stood there for a moment with Gilbert trying to figure out to phrase his approach and Y/n hoping against all hopes that he didn't try to say anything.

But, of course, he did. "I know something is wrong." he whispered.

"Shh," was all Y/n said in response, using the ongoing show in front of them as an excuse to shush him.

Gilbert's frown grew deeper, but he pushed on nonetheless. "Is this about earlier? Because what Mr. Philips said―"

"Shh," she said, more forcefully.

"Y/n." said Gilbert, taking her hand from the railing and holding it in his. Y/n looked down at it, her heart skipping a beat. Gilbert tried to meet her eyes, but she kept them craned down. "Y/n, look at me."

She bit her lip. How could she explain to Gilbert something she didn't fully understand herself?

Slowly, she looked up, worry knitting her brows together.

"Tell me what's wrong." Gilbert pleaded quietly. "Whatever it is, I want to help. I don't like it when...I don't like seeing you upset. So, come on. Talk."

Y/n, overcome with worry, looked away, fixing her eyes on the stage. She had a chance―a chance to do something that had the power to completely upend her and Gilbert's friendship. But she didn't think she could stand regret.

"I like you." Y/n mumbled.

Gilbert absently reached for Y/n's hand on the railing, a smile forming on his lips. Then, in one swift motion, Gilbert moved forward and pressed his lips on hers. Y/n, shocked, nearly jumped out of her skin. But, almost in an instant, she relaxed into his touch, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

But a moment later she pulled away, fear worming its way back into her mind. "Can we really do this? Nobody must know―"

Gilbert interrupted her by throwing his hands on her waist, pulling her in. "You and I know, and I think that's―that's more than enough, love."

Y/n smiled, the fear melting away as she looked at Gilbert.

"Hey!" came the shrill voice of Miss Lind. "That's the light cue! What's going on up there?"

"Nothing!" Gilbert and Y/n yelled in unison, scrambling back to their posts on the loft, hiding their smiles.

Author's Note: AHHHHHH MY FIRST FIC!! I've had this one in my head for a while now, but @urfriendlywriter 's prompts just really nailed it into my head that I needed to write it. I've been binging AWAE as school started and...I gotta say...I'm a sucker for dark hair and dark eyes. And the title, inspired by a Hozier song, just fits the vibe of the show so well I love it. But yeah! Enjoy my first fic and send in any and all requests you got!

<3 Gracie