#Hero now has a way to talk and this is BAD NEWS for everyone

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 

[wonderjanga]

Billy and the Robins

Marvel has met all the Robins up until now. Like, let’s say Billy has been doing this for like eight maybe ten years. This Billy as Marvel met Dick a year before he became Nightwing, met Jason all the way through until his death, met Tim, and met Damian. He’s also been able to connect them to their new vigilante identities almost immediately. Now, Damian still is Robin and of course, Tim going from Robin to Red Robin isn’t too hard to figure out but I can see him doing this to the other two:

*Nightwing just joins the Justice League and all is looking swell so far. His first mission is with Captain Marvel and he remembers the dude being pretty nice. The mission goes well and they’re on their way back to the Watchtower.*

*Two are talking about whatever*

Marvel: *Pauses mid convo and stares at Nightwing a bit before he does a little finger snap* “Oh! That’s where I know you from! You’re Robin! Dude, it is so cool you became your own hero. The blue’s awesome.”

Nightwing: *Has a mini-heart attack* “Wha? Psshh… Dude, I’m not Robin.”

Marvel: “Uh… Yeah you are? You guys have the same” *gestures to Nightwing*

Nightwing: “The same what?”

Marvel: “You know. The same” *gestures to Nightwing again* Nightwing: “You do know that doesn’t tell me anything… right?”

or

*Zatanna, her father, and Constantine are unavailable to help with a magic artifact. This led Bruce to begrudgingly ask Billy for help. At the scene are Bruce, Billy, Damian, Cassandra, and Jason. Bruce is briefing them on something Marvel isn’t listening to as he stares at Jason trying to figure out why he’s familiar.*

Marvel: *cuts Bruce off* “Aren’t you Robin number 2?” *ignores the stares as he looks at Jason.*

*silence from literally everyone*

Marvel: “Holy moly. You’re like 6’2.” (He says as if his Marvel form isn’t like 6’11. I love freakishly tall Marvel) “You used to be so tiny!”

Red Hood: *Gets hit in the face with a flashback*

//Flashback//

(Recently adopted Jason)

Jason: *sitting on a couch in one of the Watchtower’s rec rooms eyeing a box of donuts on a coffee table.*

Marvel: *walks into rec room with the intent to steal said donuts as food for Billy. Sees Jason.* “Robin?” *Walks over.* “You look… different.”

Jason: *fumbling for words, slightly surprised a hero came up to talk to him* “Oh uh- I’m not Robin- Your Robin. The Robin that you know.”

Marvel: “Yeah, well, that’s kinda obvious. You’re all skin and bones, kid.”

*The joke was met with no laughs and a look of hurt.*

Marvel: “Not- not that I’m saying it’s a bad thing! As somebody who frequently lived on ketchup sandwiches and sugar water at your age,” (as if he isn’t still that age, and still lives like that) “trust me when I say, I’m not making fun of you.” *grabs the box of donuts and offers it to Jason* “Look, why don’t you take one of these, or maybe a couple. I saw you eying them when I walked in. I’m sorry if you got upset at what I said.” *really doesn’t want Jason to cry*

Jason: *grabs two donuts. Chocolate and strawberry* “Why?”

Marvel: “Why what?”

Jason: “Why’d you live like that at my age?” (He finds it surprising this guy, this hero, lived like that at some point.)

Marvel: *contemplates whether or not telling Jason is a good idea for like 3 seconds before he throws it out the window* “I was homeless.” *shrugs*

Jason: “Oh. Me too.” *nibbles on one of the donuts*

*After a while of awkward conversation, Marvel soon gets Jason to open up and they branch away from the topic homelessness and spiral into other topics. Jason goes back to Bruce with a smile on his little face*

*After that, and a couple more encounters between the two, Marvel was the first person Jason bee-lined too at the Watchtower. Of course, not before saying hi to Wonder Woman. Greek heroes hold a special place in his heart for some reason.*

//End of Flashback//

*Under the helmet, Jason’s face slowly reddens in embarrassment and he just facepalms, not caring that he hit the metal of his helmet as he went through memories upon memories of little him following Marvel around like a little duckling.*

[sjyuns]

WAY BACK HOME ┆ A SIM JAEYUN ONESHOT

BREAKING NEWS! the friendly neighbourhood superhero spider-man has been caught trying to swing into a girl’s heart — but why is he failing miserably?! is this the spider-man we all know and love? or has our hero lost his spark?

or in which sim jaeyun asks you, his best friend out, forgetting that he was still in his spider-man suit.

GENRE! best friends to lovers, mutual pining, extremely groundbreaking embarrassing pick up lines, my missed hit at being a comdeian, jaeyun being jaeyun ( ie a hot loser ),

CAUTION! idiots in love, two timing ( but they’re the same person ), kissing, love, mentions of weapons and fighting crime, bad pickup lines, embarrassment for sim jaeyun, both reader and jaeyun are nineteen in this fic

WORDCOUNT! 5100

MIKAELA’S! hey everyone, this is the first ever oneshot i’m posting on my shiny new blog! please feel free to leave feedback through reblogs or asks! hope you enjoy jake embarrassing the soul out of himself🫶 i love sim jaeyun so much ( too much it’s embarrassing tbh ) this is the last of my old drafts, sorry for the spam!

playlist ⟡ way back home — shaun ⟡ forever only — jaehyun ⟡ pov — ariana grande ⟡ daylight — taylor swift

i. with great power comes a platter of hot embarrassment

“With great power comes great responsibility,” is what Spider-Man once said in an interview with The Daily Times, the most widely read newspaper company in all of Seoul.

It’s so out of character of Sim Jaeyun that he himself wonders what exactly went through his mind at that given time to blurt out such a philosophical quote — especially when he was having the bad urge to take a piss at that very moment.

But whatever it was: he needs it to return now, because he’s standing in front of you, his best friend, and he thinks that now's the chance; to finally ask you out after saving you.

Unfortunately Sim Jaeyun is out of luck, like he always is with you, because nothing but five utterly embarrassing words come out of his mouth.

“You tingle my spidey senses.”

You choke back a laugh as you stare at the masked superhero, amused at his sudden pick-me-up. “Are you rizzing me up, mister friendly neighbourhood hero?”

It seems like too much thinking has altered the already broken thought process in Sim Jaeyun’s brain, because it is only now that he registers that he’s still in his Spider-Man suit, and you don’t have a single clue that he’s Spider-Man.

“Uh, I mean-” but he’s cut off by the roaring cheer of the gathered public, who have their phones out and recording.

“Don’t back down, Spider-Man,” a citizen calls out, and Jaeyun thinks it’s far too late to back out now, because not only will it crush his ego, you might think Spider-Man isn’t as cool as he seemed to be.

“Would you let me swing into your heart- I mean, could we” he pauses, “could we hang out sometime?”

You smile, and it makes Jaeyun frown slightly under his mask, because he knows that smile — it’s the polite one, the one you use in a slightly uncomfortable situation, as if you didn’t want to embarrass the popular superhero standing in front of you at the moment.

“Sure,” you grin, pearly whites on display, “could I bring my best friend Jaeyun though? He’s a big fan.” It’s him, he thinks, he’s the Jaeyun you’re talking about. And his heart skips a beat at your thoughtful action.

“Okay! Tomorrow, here, five in the evening,” he says in excitement without a second thought. You’ve just agreed to go out on a date with him, and he’s too drunk in love to think about how he’s going to meet you as Spider-Man without telling you his identity.

He shoots a web up and swings after shouting an elated “see you, yn,” in the air. All too caught up in you to realise the three critical mistakes he’d made.

ONE. He never asked for your name as Spider-Man

TWO. There’s no way he could ever go on a date with his suit on in public

THREE. How in the fucking world is he going to a date with you as both Spider-Man and Sim Jaeyun?

Sim Jaeyun spends the whole night twisting and turning in his bed, mind in a flurry as he tries to think of the smartest way to solve these problems.

And it doesn’t help him when his phone pings with a new message from you.

Guess who just bagged us a hang out with Spider-Man tomorrow!

Don’t wear that Spider-Man suit or I swear to god I will not bring you to see him.

He sighs as he presses hard on the power button of his phone, staring blanking at the black screen. Fuck power or responsibility, he thinks, all he wants is his best friend’s heart, is that too much to ask for?

ii. man up, spidey-boy!

“BREAKING NEWS! Spider-Man spotted trying to swing into a girl’s — who supposedly goes by the name yn, heart. And after failing miserably at the first try, he succeeded on the second. Spidey may be a hero who saves lives, but it seems like he might have to take up what youngster’s call ‘rizz’ classes.”

The wide billboard screen casts a video taken by a bystander as the announcer's voice blared into the main junction of the city.

Jaeyun groans as he hangs his head low, adjusting the baseball cap perched on top of his head to cover his face. Not like anyone knew he was Spider-Man, no, but it was just far too embarrassing for him.

He hears you before he sees you, your voice is illegally sweet as it causes a smile to appear on his face amidst all of the stress. “Jaeyun!” You call, “you’re unusually late,” and Jaeyun groans, blaming it on the lack of sleep he had gotten last night, “Spider-Man isn’t here yet.”

Right, Spider-Man. Jaeyun still hasn’t found a solution to that.

His suit is tucked safely in the bottom of his bag, just in case. But for now, Jaeyun thinks it’s a better decision to disappoint you as Spider-Man instead of as your best friend. Besides, he hasn’t missed a single hang out session with you, and he isn’t ever planning to.

“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” You ask, head tilting in question and eyes soft, and Jaeyun wonders if he actually underestimated how much you liked Spider-Man, misunderstood that seemingly polite smile you gave him yesterday — should he have came as Spider-Man instead?

“Uhm,” he pauses, hesitant to squash your expectations, “how about we go first? I’m sure Spider-Man will swing by, it seems like he likes you a lot.” And even though he was talking about himself, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy bubbling in him at the thought of another boy liking you.

“Right,” you say, giving him a smile that makes his heart melt, “I guess it’s just us, like it always is.” Your fingers wrap around his, “I like it like this.” You mutter softly, yet in the buzz of the city square, Jaeyun catches the whisper of your voice, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Plus, if I ever need, you can be my Spider-Man — whip out that fake suit of yours. You have his physique anyway, and your pick up lines are just as idiotic as his. Maybe even more idiotic.”

Jaeyun lets out a loud laugh, one that’s of melodious dreams, and it causes a few pedestrians to stare but he doesn’t care, not when you’re next to him, asking him to be your very own Spider-Man. And he agrees immediately, all too ready to put on the ‘fake’ red and blue suit just for you.

He’s a little amused that you still believe that he’s a hardcore fan of Spider-Man, because the only time you’ve caught him wearing that very suit was two years ago, when you coincidentally entered his room to see him in a Spider-Man suit without a mask.

And he still remembers your accusations of him being a fanboy, asking him if dressing up as his idol was what he did in his free time. Jaeyun was way too flustered to even explain himself, and letting you know that he was the real Spider-Man never even crossed his mind as he bashfully nodded to your words.

But it wasn’t like you ever laughed at him about it, though you did tease him. You would still buy him different types of Spider-Man merchandise, ranging from Spider-Man socks to a custom Spider-Man mug with the words ‘Spider-Man loves Jaeyun’ in bold red.

With every gift given, came an opportunity to reveal his identity. Yet Sim Jaeyun never seizes it, he refuses to, because he finds it so endearing — the way you have the proudest smile on your face as you give him merchandise of himself that he has never seen before, the way you send him a picture of every single Spider-Man related thing you see on the streets.

“Right,” he nods as he gazes adoringly at you, “forget the real Spider-Man, I’ll swing into your heart.” And the giggle you let out once again makes his knees weak — he thinks the smile plastered on your face is much more genuine than the one he saw yesterday.

And he wants to kiss you so bad, tell you exactly how much he likes you, loves you. This familiar feeling that has settled comfortably at the bottom of his heart and back of his mind for the past four years, has only grown and never dwindled. It was times like this, where he didn’t feel the burden of having to be alert about ongoing crime.

Only with you can he feel like Sim Jaeyun — a lovesick nineteen year old and not Spider-Man, the hero of Seoul.

“Jaeyun, what do you want to do first?” You ask, pulling him through the blaring fun of the amusement park. He hums, following behind your excited figure, letting you choose what you wanted to do. “Oh my god, look it’s a Spider-Man toy.”

You halt in your step and immediately turn towards him, eyes sparkling. “Do you want it Jaeyun? I’ll get it for you. Just so you aren’t too sad that Spider-Man ghosted us today.”

He scoffs, as he examines the booth. It’s a shooting game, and he knows that you suck at shooting. “You sure, love? From what I remember, you aren’t too good at shooting games,” he brings up and you shoot him a sharp glare before pestering him to pay the vendor.

You end up blaming your best friend for jinxing you, “Yun, if you never said that, I could have shot them all down,” you complain, eyes morphing into slits as you pinpoint the blame on him. Jaeyun raises his two hands in innocence, face displaying an expression of shock, “I didn’t even say anything wrong, plus you barely hit one out of five balloons.”

You groan, shushing him in embarrassment, “If you’re such a professional, win it for me then,” you challenge him. Jaeyun shrugs, it’ll be easy — all those years of shooting webs has made him extremely sharp, so he manages to shoot all the five balloons without any effort, snagging the coveted Spider-Man doll.

“You sure you don’t want it, Yun?” you question, “add it to your collection as a fanboy.” He shakes his head, handing you the plush toy, “I won it for you. Plus, I like the ones you gave me more.”

It overwhelms you, the stark sincerity in his voice. And you feel the sudden need to kiss him, not like you’ve never thought of it before (more like you’ve thought about it too much), because Sim Jaeyun with his bright personality and handsome face is far too good to be real.

But you can’t bring yourself to be that direct, so you settle for a kiss on the cheek. A quick movement and a short peck before you let out a loud giggle, walking over to the next booth with a stupid smile plastered on your face, leaving Jaeyun in shock and awe — eyes wide and mouth agape before he bites back a smile.

He thinks it’s too hard to conceal his feelings any longer; that he has to tell you soon, next week, tomorrow, or maybe even now. And he feels the three words, eight letters, at the tip of his tongue.

As always, though, he swallows them back down, throat dry as he stares at you. The fear of rejection far too intense for him to handle.

How ironic, that Sim Jaeyun could fight criminals with equipped daggers that could kill him in one swift motion, yet he could not say three simple words to a girl who has pierced his heart and filled his stomach with butterflies.

iii. in a sticky predicament

“Now on to our very own Spider-Man’s upcoming love story that seems to be wilting by the looks of it — Spidey, in fact, did not show up to his date with yn, who was seen with another boy at the amusement park. Our very own hero is facing multiple accusations that he may be, like his representative colour, a red flag. However, a minority of fans have brought up a speculation; that the boy we call Spider-Man, might be the very boy accompanying yn yesterday unmasked. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”

“Don’t you think that’s insane Jaeyun?” you laugh, throwing your head back into the soft pillow on his bed, “they think you’re Spider-Man.”

“Right,” he trails on, arms crossed as he leans on the doorframe, “that’s so impossible.”

His laugh awkward as his fingers find themselves combing through his hair for the nth time. And you turn your head, looking at him with suspicion. Right, that’d be crazy, insane maybe, you think, because Sim Jaeyun was well — him. He’s slightly awkward, likes physics, and hell he’s scared of bugs, so it’ll be mind blowing if he ever was the real Spider-Man.

But impossible, you think, might not be true. And you sit up on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on him. Same physique, similar height, he’s athletic, and he shoots well. Plus, from your ever so short encounter with Spider-Man saving you from getting your wallet stolen, Spider-Man is just as awkward as your best friend.

Could he really be Spider-Man? But he’s a fan of Spider-Man, wouldn’t it be weird if he was such a big fan of himself. Still, you couldn’t rule out the possibility.

“Jump,” you instruct, “hang upside down on the walls.” Jake is shocked, as his heart accelerates in nervousness at the thought of being found out.

“Don’t be weird,” he groans, trying to keep calm, “that’s literally humanly impossible.” His mind racing, finding a way to get out of this sticky situation, because as much as he wants to tell you his identity, the last way he wanted you to find out was through the internet. Also, maybe because you looked slightly angry, with your eyebrows furrowed and hands on your head, and Jaeyun didn’t want you to be mad at him.

You were deep in thought, was that why Spider-Man didn’t show up yesterday — because he is actually Sim Jaeyun, and he couldn’t be there as two different people.

That might be a stretch, but it isn’t an impossible scenario. You tilt your head, quickly grabbing the pillow you were just lying on, throwing it at him, “catch.”

He catches it easily, with one hand even, as his face contorts into an expression of surprise. “Don’t scare me like that, love,” he says. But you’re too flabbergasted at the fast reflexes of your best friend to even comprehend his complaint.

“You could really give Spider-Man a run for his money, you know?” you chuckle, as you tell yourself that no matter how much it might fit, it’s probably just a coincidence, “put on that suit of yours and fight crime.” It was all a coincidence, right?

“What if I’m scared of getting hurt,” he pouts, and you snort. With Sim Jaeyun’s level of cowardice, there’s no way he could ever be out there fighting.

“Then I’ll protect you,” you say, “I’ll be your sidekick, all you have to do is stand there and look pretty.”

He grins, walking over to stand in front of you; hands moving to ruffle your hair. “Okay love, you lead, I’ll follow.”

iv. tell him to grow a pair

Your newfound popularity brings you more drawbacks than benefits — by that you mean the sudden fury of boys approaching you to ask for your number. It annoys Jaeyun more than it does you, as your best friend flaunts a new irritated look that you’ve rarely seen.

“That’s the sixth fucking boy,” he grumbles, eyes rolling before he glares at the fleeting figure of Lee Heeseung, the boy who just asked you for your number, the boy who Jaeyun lashed out at.

“Be kind, Yun,” you chuckle, amused at your best friend’s sudden grumpiness, “I mean, I’ve never lashed out at any of the girl’s who ask you out.”

“No one has asked me out.” he groans, “are you flaunting right now?”

“Yes I am,” you reply, “don’t worry Jaeyun, you’ll always be my loser.”

He lets out a loud exaggerated sigh as he rolls his eyes, leaning against the locker as he grits his teeth in exasperation.

You wonder why no girl has ever hit Sim Jaeyun up. Granted, he wasn’t the best looking guy back in middle school with his choice of brightly coloured clothes that blinded eyes, but you think that was part of the appeal — how awkwardly adorable he was. Now, with his upgraded fashion style and bubbly personality, it’s a miracle no one has tried their shot at bagging him. Not that you wanted anyone to.

Sim Jaeyun is yours, just as much as you are his.

And he thinks the exact same. Despite what you think, he has had a girl approach him, professing his love only to get turned down by his puppy-like smile and his confession that he liked you.

Though his body exudes jealousy, there's a slight bit of relief at the fact that you turned all six of the boys down, telling them that you had a crush on someone else. He hopes, prays, begs that the person you think about is him. He furiously looks for a sign, because he’s tired of all this, and he needs a sign from you before he can courageously make the first move.

After school, the both of you walk down the buzzing streets with carts of street food lined up along the roadside. Your fingers bunching the fabric of Jaeyun’s shirt as he navigates the both of you through the crowded streets, making a beeline for his favourite churros shop.

“I told you the queue would be long, it’s Friday night,” you whine, mentally counting the number of people in front of you. Fifteen, that’ll take a while. “We should have just ordered in pizza and binge on Netflix shows.”

“Fine, we can eat churros another day,” Jaeyun pouts and you curse yourself for saying that even when you knew he wanted to eat churros.

“It’s fine, we can stay, since we’re already here.” You stop him, pulling him back beside you in the queue, “but you can’t leave to do something else like last time, you have to wait with me.”

The glow on his face coupled with the adorable smile on his lips makes you stare in awe. And you think Sim Jaeyun is so pretty and handsome all at once it’s a crime to look as good as him. His lips, god, they look so kissable and soft, you wish you could kiss them at any given time — now, tomorrow, forever.

But the moment doesn’t last long, as faint screams and shouts travel from a small corner shop down the road. “Thief, there’s a thief on the run.”

You watch as Jaeyun’s eyes widen, body in a sudden scramble, “uhm, I’m gonna go to the toilet for a moment,” he says amidst the whispers of the crowd, “stomach ache, you know.” Running off before you can give him a reply, brushing past people hurriedly into a random narrow street.

You shrug it off again because it isn’t the first time Jaeyun has acted out of character. However, you can’t help but realise it was always when there was crime.

The questions and suspicions floating around your head for the past week resurface as you focus on the narrow street your best friend had disappeared into.

Oh my god.

You blink profusely, pinch yourself, and rub your eyes because this is mind blowing information. You can’t seem to believe an ounce of what your eyes have just seen. Was that Spider-Man who just swung out of the very same alleyway?

Sim Jaeyun is Spider-Man. And your conclusion only seems to solidify as you hear the muffled voice coming out of his masked persona.

“Oops, sorry,” and a careless swing as he tries his best to manoeuvre through the crowd, accidentally knocking over a little girl’s ice cream cone, “I'm sorry, please don’t cry.”

Yup, that’s Jaeyun. His voice now so familiar you hit yourself in the head for not realising sooner. And his utterly helpless tone as he tries to soothe the little girl — you could recognise it from a mile away.

“I’ll get you a new one, I’m sorry,” he shouts as he spins his web and shoots again, lamppost to windows to signboards before effortlessly catching up with the thief; who was now bound to the wall by web.

“Sorry,” he groans for the fourth time in a matter of minutes, “it’s my job — i mean, not that you deserve to get away no, i just-” he rambles and you giggle at his comment. Seems like Sim Jaeyun will never change, even as a superhero or as your best friend.

“I meant to say, justice has been served,” he nods, seemingly proud of his awkward catchphrase that you were sure he stole from the superhero movie you watched with him a few weeks back. “I have to get back now, someone awaits me you know - i mean, no- I’m not supposed to give details of my personal life. I’ll just- stop talking… yeah.”

And you watch again as he swings back down the street. With his identity revealed, you can’t help but look up to Jaeyun even more now — a top student and a superhero? How unfair the world is. How lucky you were to have him as your best friend.

“Hey! Aren’t you yn? Spider-Man, is that your girl?” You shrink, head down as you fix your gaze on the floor immediately, cheeks a rosy red. God, you think, this is a little embarrassing.

You feel his presence before you see his shadow morphing with yours on the floor, “hey yn,” and you look up to see the superhero, who’s panting ever so slightly, stand in front of you in his glory. “Sorry about last week, I was well busy, and I know it isn’t any-”

“It’s fine,” you stop him from blabbering, a toothy grin plastered on your face. And Jaeyun feels proud, maybe him saving someone has put Spider-Man back into your good graces, maybe he has a chance with you as Spider-Man.

“I had fun with my crush at the amusement park. Actually, thank you for the opportunity, I kissed his cheek for the first time and it felt like heaven.”

He pauses, and Jaeyun wants to rip off his mask at the very moment to kiss you. You liked him back, fuck, you actually liked him back.

“Ah,” he says after a while of tense silence, his hands rubbing the nape of his neck, “that’s amazing. So- do you… I mean- so you’re like, in love with him? Wait love might be a little uhm-”

“Yeah, I’m in love with him.”

Time stops as your eyes pierce into his, and he can swear at this moment that you knew exactly who he was. He thinks it’s over, and he can finally ask you to be his — because he’s hellbent on loving you, for the past four years he has been.

“Seems like this crush of yours needs to step up his game, or I might just steal you away,” he remarks lightheartedly, uncaring of the sea of cameras pointing towards the both of you.

“Yeah, it seems like he does. Maybe you should visit him one day, tell him that it’s about time to man up, or I’ll be the one asking for his hand.” You shoot a knowing glance at him, a confident smirk on your face.

Jaeyun chuckles, “right, I’ll be sure to tell him that, wouldn’t want him to lose such a special girl.”

“Thanks Spidey, I wonder what I’d ever do without you,” you laugh, patting his suited shoulder before he once again swings away into the narrow alleyway, only to appear minutes later donned in his usual faded ripped jeans and white shirt, hair tousled and smile wide as he runs back to you.

And he’s before you all again, this time as your best friend and you swoon as his adoring eyes and elated smile. “You okay?” You ask, hand raising to fix his hair.

“I couldn’t be better.”

v. Batman vs Spider-Man, a battle of the mans

“Spider-Man should now change his name into wing man as he is spotted once again, engaging in conversation with the very same yn from last week. Spider-Man was not only ruthlessly dumped by her, but was also asked to quote on quote visit her crush to ask him to grow a pair. Seems like she is off the market for our poor lonely superhero, who can’t seem to catch anyone except for criminals. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”

“Seems like you can’t catch a break, huh Yun?” You point out as you switch the television off, “not only defamed into a wing man but also asked to grow a pair.”

And it seems like he really can’t because ever since you confronted him about being Spider-Man, his days have been filled with even more ruthless teasing, and weird questions.

“How do you even piss as Spider-Man?”

“Can I swing from building to building?”

“Can you hang upside down for ten minutes?”

“How do you think you would fare against Batman in a fight?”

But there’s one unasked question still hanging in the air. And Jaeyun really wants to address it, but it seems like you’ve lost your confidence by the way the flesh of your cheeks heats an angry red at any slight hint of him being your crush — or as Jaeyun would like to call himself; your soon to be boyfriend.

“I’ve grown a pair,” he says, shifting towards you, eyes trained on yours, “seems like someone has lost a pair.”

“Have not” you argue, lies — you could barely look at Jaeyun now without a lovesick smile on your face. Neither could you muster up the courage to ask him to be your boyfriend. “And if you ever grew a pair, you would have asked.”

“Ask what?” He teases, face moving closer to yours. He looks too good, godly almost, with his black rimmed glasses perched at the bridge of his nose.

You pout, furrowing your eyebrows as you place a light slap on the middle of his chest. And he lets out a low chuckle, the vibrant sun rays flush through the sheer day curtains of Jaeyun’s room, a natural spotlight glowing on the both of you.

“Fine,” he whispers, and you can feel his breath on your lips, it’s warm and inviting and you feel yourself leaning into him. “Will you be my girlfriend, love?”

You barely nod your head before he attaches his lips on yours. And you think you’re going to be obsessed with Sim Jaeyun — your fingers find their way through his hair and he sighs. It’s like he’s imprinted in your heart and you want to kiss him again and again and again.

Sim Jaeyun with pretty eyes, pretty lips, a pretty face, a pretty being, breaks the kiss only to kiss you again and again as you wish.

“Did I swing into your heart, love?” He smirks as you playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “Are we not going to bring up the time when you fell after showing me your web skills?”

He tackles you down and you giggle, “I can fall from the sky, I can fall from a tree, but the best way to fall is to fall in love with you.” He grins idiotically before racing out the door as you cringe at yet another bad pick up line from him.

“Sim Jaeyun, are you kidding me? I wonder how you even make up quotes like ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ with that mind of yours.”

“What mind? You mean my mind — the place where you always are?”

You groan in fake disgust as you watch your boyfriend (boyfriend!) smile proudly at his idiotic pick up lines. The both of you drinking sunlight as if it’s love — where he’s all yours and you’re all his.

uncut. confessions i can’t make ( a crumpled confession letter written by a sixteen year old sim jaeyun )

hi dear yn,

i like you. it’s been a while since you took my breath away we first met. this is my first time ever writing a confession so i don’t really know what to say write… i guess it’s like writing physics notes so maybe it wouldn’t be too hard i hope

chapter one part one : what i like about you

i like the way you smile laugh, how your eyes turn into the tiniest of crescents, it makes me proud of the jokes i crack (that physics joke was good was it not). i like the feeling i have around you — it’s warm and fuzzy, natural — talking everyday without any forceful conversation, laughs or attention.

part two : why you should like me

i think you should like me because i like you. i think you should like me because i’m smart! i can help you with physics and maths. i don’t really know what else i can give you but i’ll try my best to make you smile everyday.

will you be my girlfriend? Oh god, this is so weird i actually like you a lot and

(a bunch of scribbling)

forget it. you’ll never like me back.

dear mister sim jaeyun,

after three hours of fighting for my life, i have finally gotten my hands on the most treasured item of the year, a sixteen year old you’s crumpled confession letter to me. and since you wrote it in a physics notes style like a loser, as your girlfriend i have no choice but to follow you (so that you don’t feel lonely)

one. what i like about you

everything. i like your hair, i like your face. I like the way you say sorry to every single person in the neighbourhood while courageously saving them. i like your pick up lines on some days and how you have the guts to challenge Batman to a fight when i proclaim him as my favourite hero. i like the way you laugh and i like the way you smile. i am especially enchanted by your kicked puppy ways and easily manipulated demeanour where i can always get what i want without question.

two. why you should like me

i’m your girlfriend and you’re my girlfriend. (you are my girlfriend) you should stop staring at me with those eyes, it gives me the ick (i meant that in a ‘whatever you say pretty boy’ kind of way) you should like me because i am the person who likes you the most. (i love you so much)

will i be your girlfriend? obviously i will, i mean who can say no to you.

love you babe,

spider-man’s (your) hot sidekick

© SJYUNS

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds

The GIF is not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : You recently joined the Avengers, and everyone has accepted you except for Bucky. Now, the challenge lies in proving him wrong, but can you succeed changing his mind and earn his trust? Or do you have to do more to earn it? (geez, I’m suck at this)

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

TW: SMUT, 18+, strong language, enemies-to-lovers-ish, oral (m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation (slut calling), slight choking, orgasm denial

Word Count: Around 10k (I know it's a bit long, I got carried away. Sorry) → smut is like 4k hehe

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, and it’s a smut one at that. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes or bad grammar. I hope you still enjoy the story!

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 1 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You've always been a dependable agent ever since you were young, someone who could handle the toughest missions without letting your emotions get in the way. Nick Fury spotted your potential when you were just a kid, taking you under his wing. It was his belief in you that kept you going, and it all led to the thrilling moment when he thought it was time for you to join the Avengers. After all those years of hard work, it felt like a dream come true.

Then came your first day with the team. You'd just joined, and they wanted to see how good you were in a fight. You almost beat Natasha in a really intense battle, proving to everyone that you totally belonged with the Avengers. Your determination to show your worth never wavered. But there was this one guy, Bucky Barnes, who just couldn't seem to trust you no matter what.

On your first day with the Avengers, the training room buzzed with anticipation as you faced off against Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. It was a test of your combat skills, a way to see if you had what it took to be part of Earth's mightiest heroes. The desire to become one of them, although it might sound cliché and cringey, burned within you.

The Avengers, including Nick Fury, Captain America, Iron Man, Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and Thor, watched from up above, all curious and eager to see how you'd do. Their faces showed they were rooting for you.

However, as you glanced upward to catch your breath, your eyes locked onto Bucky Barnes. He stood there, solitary and stern, arms crossed over his chest. His intense gaze bore into you, but unlike the other Avengers, his expression was far from encouraging. There was a deep skepticism in his eyes, a doubt that seemed unshakable, and it cast a shadow over your determination to prove yourself to the team.

Natasha, dressed in her familiar black outfit, gave you a serious look that made you stop staring up. When she spoke, you turned your attention to her. "Think you've got this, newbie?" she teased, a touch of amusement in her voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was your moment to prove yourself, and there was no turning back. The weight of your new Avengers uniform felt both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. "I'm ready, Natasha.", you responded with determination. You weren't going to back down now.

Natasha grinned. "We'll see about that."

The two of you circled each other, and then, without warning, Natasha lunged at you with lightning speed. Her attack was quick and precise, but you were able to block it, thanks to your training. As the two of you sparred, the crowd cheered and shouted their support. It was a battle of wits and willpower, and neither of you was willing to give up.

"You're good," Natasha admitted, her voice dripping with genuine admiration. "But let's see how you handle this." With a fluid motion, she unleashed a series of acrobatic moves, flipping and twisting through the air before landing gracefully behind you.

You spun around to face her, sweat beading on your forehead. "Impressive, but I'm not done yet."

The fight continued, and you pushed yourself to keep up with Natasha's relentless assault. Your training and instincts kicked in, and you began to hold your own. It was a back-and-forth battle, each of you landing hits and dodging the other's attacks.

But Natasha was more experienced than you, and eventually, she managed to overpower you. She had you pinned to the ground, her face inches away from yours. You struggled against her grip, but she held you firmly in place. "Had enough?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gritting your teeth, you mustered all the determination you had left. "Not a chance," you replied, refusing to admit defeat.

The crowd went wild as Natasha delivered the final blow, knocking you out. She stood there, victorious, a small smile playing on her lips acknowledging your impressive performance. "Good fight," she said, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted her hand, "Thanks, Natasha. You're incredible."

The room erupted in applause, and everyone from the observation deck descended to congratulate you. Fury, wearing a proud smile, gave you a warm hug. "Well done, Y/N. You're officially part of the team," he declared, his words filled with pride. He whispered, "I'm proud of you, Y/N," and it meant the world to you.

But amid the celebration with your new teammates, there was one person who didn't seem as thrilled. James "Bucky" Barnes, the Winter Soldier, stood in a quiet corner of the room, his expression inscrutable.

You had felt his presence throughout the entire match, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine. Bucky's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then he turned and left the room, leaving you feeling more confused than ever.

Bucky went out of his way to undermine your confidence, pushing you to the brink of quitting time and time again. His words still fresh in your mind. "I don't think you're cut out for this, kid. This isn't a game. It's a matter of life and death. You’re not ready for this."

It hurt. You didn't understand why he was so determined to bring you down. What had you done to make him dislike you so much? Despite Bucky's relentless doubts, you refused to back down. You were determined to earn his respect, just as you had with the rest of the team.

So, every day, you trained harder, pushed yourself further, and proved your worth on every mission. Your hope was that one day, Bucky would finally see you for the capable agent you truly were and put his doubts to rest once and for all.

One day, as you were making your way to the gym, the sound of voices caught your attention. It was Bucky and Steve, engaged in a hushed conversation that seemed to revolve around you. Curiosity piqued, you tried to maintain a discreet distance, keen on hearing what they were saying. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Buck, I think you're being too hard on her. She's a good fighter and she's eager to learn," Steve argued.

Bucky's skepticism remained unshaken. "I'm just trying to watch out for the team. She's a liability, not ready for this kind of responsibility."

Steve being the optimist pushed back gently, his support for you evident in his tone. "I think you're the only one who feels that way."

Bucky's voice grew firmer as he explained his perspective. "She's only here 'cause Nick Fury vouched for her. There are others who deserve this chance more. I could name a couple who'd fit better on this team than her."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, casting doubt on your worthiness. It was difficult to hear that the person you looked up to and wanted to prove yourself to was actually against you, even though Bucky's argument was valid.

You couldn't help but question if your acceptance into the Avengers was indeed solely because of Fury. You had always believed that your spot on the Avengers was earned through your skills and dedication. Bucky's doubts made you second-guess if you had truly earned your place.

"Buck, there's more to it than that," Steve replied, his voice steady. "Just be patient with her."

Unable to endure the conversation any longer, your heart felt heavy as you turned away, doing your best to conceal the hurt that washed over your face. With resolve, you changed your course and headed towards the field track, hoping a run would help clear your mind.

Later, as the sun set on the horizon, you were still out running laps. Your thoughts were racing, and your body was aching, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

"You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep pushing like that."

You jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Bucky standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

Caught off guard, you tried to put on a brave face. "I'm okay," you lied, attempting to hide the pain that was clearly etched on your face. Stopping abruptly had caused your feet to throb with discomfort.

Bucky, however, wasn't buying your façade. He narrowed his eyes, his concern deepening. "You're not. You're hurt."

In response, you shook your head stubbornly, your pride urging you to push through the pain. "I'll manage," you insisted, even though every step sent a sharp twinge through your feet.

Bucky's gaze remained sharp and unwavering. "You're not fooling anyone with that."

Deep down, you knew he was right. The pain was becoming harder to ignore, and your stubbornness could only take you so far. But in that moment, you weren't quite ready to admit defeat or show weakness, especially not to someone like Bucky.

Bucky took a step closer, his expression resolute. "Come on, we're heading inside," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I'm okay, I can-." You began to protest, but he interrupted you firmly, "Y/N, enough. This is an order. You're only making my job more difficult by trying to tough it out. Let's go, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Reluctantly, you fell silent and went along with Bucky, allowing him to guide you back to the facility. As you walked, you couldn't help but mull over his earlier words, "You're making my job harder by trying to tough it out." It left you wondering why he cared or felt responsible for you, especially when you believed he disliked you.

Once inside, Bucky seated you and fetched a glass of water. Taking a sip, you felt a wave of relief as it helped ease some of your fatigue. Then, without uttering a word, Bucky briefly stepped away, returning in less than a minute with bandages and medicine in hand.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist asking, "What's all that for?" Your eyes were drawn to the medical supplies.

"Take off your shoes and socks," Bucky directed, his tone brooking no dissent.

"I don't think I need..." You began to protest, but a quick glance at Bucky's determined face made it clear that there was no room for discussion.

Letting out a sigh, you gave in and removed your shoes and socks. What you saw shocked you: your feet were in a terrible state, bleeding and covered with painful blisters, a clear result of your overly enthusiastic run.

You heard Bucky mutter a curse under his breath as he knelt down in front of you. "Bucky, seriously, I can handle it," you tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Just stay put and let me take care of this." His voice was firm, and he got to work tending to your battered feet. Gently, he placed your feet on his lap, starting to clean the cuts on your soles. You winced slightly as the sting of the alcohol met the open wounds.

While he busied himself tending to your injuries, you found your gaze drifting to him. Bucky was undeniably handsome and hot, you couldn't help but appreciate his appearance. As your eyes met his, he suddenly looked up at you.

"Got something on your mind?" he asked, his expression as enigmatic as ever.

You blinked, realizing that you'd been staring. Heat crept into your cheeks as you stammered, "I, uh, have an issue with my shoes." You finally managed to say, though it wasn't exactly the eloquent response you'd hoped for.

Bucky, his expression unamused, retorted, "Well, that's clear." After he finished bandaging your wounds, he added, "But there's more to it than just your shoes."

"You can't be out here, pushing yourself so hard if you're going to injure yourself. This isn't a game. You must take care of yourself. You can't expect to get the full experience if you're going to hurt yourself." His words were harsh, but they were true.

"I know," you admitted with a sigh, guilt gnawing at you. "I just got caught up and lost track of time. It's not that bad."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not that bad?" He challenged you. "Then stand up. Let's see how not that bad it really is."

Your cheeks burned. You could already feel the ache in your legs and the throbbing pain in your feet. But you refused to show any weakness. Not now. Not in front of him.

"Fine." With a determined look, you pushed yourself up from the chair, wincing as you put weight on your injured soles. Your feet stung, and your muscles were sore, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Bucky couldn't help but scoff, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness and tendency to challenge him.  "You want to be part of this team, right?"

You nodded, your determination unwavering despite the discomfort. "Yeah, I do.”

"Then you need to stop being reckless and start acting like an Avenger. We can't afford to have someone on our team who's too stubborn to admit when they're injured. It's only gonna make things worse." he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "Maybe you could start by, I don't know, following orders and not talking back every chance you get."

The harshness in his words took you by surprise, but they also cut deep. Because you knew he was right.

With that he left the room, leaving you behind to wallow in shame. You knew he was right. But it hurt, especially coming from him.

Weeks later, you received the news that you'd be joining the team on your very first mission. The excitement bubbled up inside you as you geared up for the assignment. But as the mission unfolded, things took a turn for the worse.

You spotted a group of enemies heading for a crowded area and impulsively decided to engage them without waiting for the team's signal or support. Your intentions were to protect the civilians, but your recklessness got the best of you. Your impulsive move led to a chaotic firefight, and in the midst of the chaos, a civilian stumbled into the line of fire, narrowly escaping harm.

Bucky, who had been keeping an eye on you, witnessed the entire sequence of events unfold. His anger and frustration boiled over as he watched you put not only yourself but also innocent bystanders in danger.

Inside the quinjet, as the mission concluded, he couldn't contain his fury any longer. "What the fuck was that, Y/N?!" he erupted, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and regret.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Bucky snapped, his intense gaze burning into you. You couldn't bear to meet his eyes, and instead, you cast your gaze downward, your hands trembling with the weight of your mistake.

"If you're gonna keep making mistakes like that, then maybe you don't belong on this team. You could've gotten someone killed back there." His words stung, but he was right.

Natasha stepped in to defend you, "Bucky, it was an accident, and it was her first mission. Everyone makes mistake.”

Bucky didn't back down. "Yeah, and accidents can cost lives, Nat. She need to be more careful," he retorted, glaring back at you. "You can't afford to be an idiot like that out there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled, his anger getting the best of him.

Clint said, "Hey! Enough. She's done enough of a beating already, I know she can do better next time."

"There might not be a next time," Bucky grumbled.

Confusion and worry welled up inside you. 'What do you mean by that?' you wondered silently, unable to find your voice.

Bucky's frustration boiled over as he remarked, "Maybe she should think twice about putting others at risk if she can't handle it."

You turned your gaze away, determined not to let the tears fall. Tony took charge of the situation, his voice steady and reassuring. "Alright, that's enough," Tony declared firmly. "We're all on edge right now after what happened. We all know she can do better, and we'll address it later. For now, let's just concentrate on getting back home."

The rest of the ride was filled with tension, Bucky's glare never leaving you as you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Wanda noticed your discomfort and moved over to sit next to you. She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and asked gently, "How are you holding up?"

You appreciated Wanda's concern and gave her a small, grateful smile. "I'll be okay," you replied softly. "Just need some time to process everything. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Wanda patted your shoulder again, offering more comfort. "Mistakes are part of learning, especially on your first mission. Remember, the key is to learn from them and get better. Don't let Bucky's words get to you too much."

You let out a weary sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "Yeah, I know.”

The quinjet touched down on the landing pad, and a sense of relief washed over you as you realized you were finally back home. This was it. You were finally home. "We'll talk later, okay?" Wanda asked, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded appreciatively at her and quickly made your way to your room. You wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away and forget the whole thing ever happened. But the guilt and shame were too much to bear.

About a month after the incident, news of another mission started to circulate rapidly around the Avengers' headquarters. The buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions—both excitement and anxiety. This mission was your chance to redeem yourself after the missteps on your first assignment.

Determined to discuss your readiness for this new mission, you sought out Steve. As you approached his office, you noticed him engrossed in reading some files. You gently knocked on the open door.

"Hi Steve, may I come in?" you asked politely.

Steve looked up from the files and offered you a welcoming smile. He promptly closed the documents and gestured for you to enter. "Of course, come in Y/N." You stepped into his office, and he continued, "How are you doing, by the way?" Steve motioned for you to take a seat, showing genuine concern.

You settled into the chair across from him and fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find the right words. "I'm good, better than what happened last time..." You paused, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry about last time..."

Steve's warm smile remained reassuring. "Hey, Y/N, that's okay. We all make mistakes," he said with a reassuring tone, "Don't beat yourself up too much about it, okay?" His kindness and understanding were a comfort, making you feel grateful for his leadership and support.

"So, what brings you here?" Steve asked with a welcoming smile.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "I heard there's another mission in 2 days..." After a pause, you continued, "But I haven't received the assignment or briefing for it..."

Steve's friendly expression faltered, and he sighed. "Y/N, about that..." He looked genuinely conflicted. "We already have teams assigned to cover that mission. You don't need to worry about it."

Your heart sank, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was becoming increasingly clear that you were being sidelined. "Is this because of what happened on the last mission?" You finally voiced your concern, your tone a mix of frustration and hurt.

Steve must've noticed the change in your tone. "Y/N, there'll be plenty of missions, and you'll definitely join the next one, okay?"

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, masking the pain that was gnawing at you. "Ah, okay, Steve." You chuckled, though it felt forced. "That's alright, I was just curious.”

Steve smiled weakly, but you could tell he understood your disappointment. "Y/N..."

You got up from the seat, disappointment heavy in your chest. You knew this was likely Bucky's doing. "Thank you, Captain, for the information. Good luck on the mission!" With that, you turned and left the room, trying to hide your frustration and disappointment.

As everyone prepared to leave for the mission, they bid you farewell, their expressions filled with sympathy. You knew they felt sorry for leaving you behind in the tower. Watching them depart filled you with a profound sense of sadness, knowing you couldn't join them.

You returned to your room, aimlessly flipping through the channels on the TV, but nothing captured your interest. Your mind kept wandering back to the missed opportunity, and the guilt and frustration gnawed at you.

After a futile attempt at watching TV, you tried to occupy yourself with a book, but the words on the pages blurred together as your thoughts remained fixated on the mission. With a sigh, you put the book down, realizing you were too distracted to read.

Restlessly, you paced around your room, contemplating various ways to improve your skills and prove that you were a valuable member of the team. Maybe you could spend some time in the training room or review combat strategies. You knew you had to keep pushing yourself to become better.

Eventually, you settled on the idea of practicing your marksmanship in the training room. Grabbing your gear, you headed there with determination in your step, determined to make the most of your time while the team was away on the mission.

Inside the gym, you started with some intense punching and kicking exercises. It felt great to release your anger, sadness, and disappointment through physical exertion. As you pummeled the sandbag, you couldn't help but imagine it as Bucky's face, channeling your frustration and resentment into each punch and kick. You unleashed your emotions on the inanimate object, giving it your all to cope with the overwhelming mix of feelings inside you.

Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the occasional tear, but you didn't let up. You wiped away the sweat and tears from your face. "What" punch "Do" punch "I" kick "Have" punch "To" kick "Do" punch "To" punch "Prove" punch "To" punch "You" kick "That" kick "I'm" punch "Just" kick "As" kick "Good" kick "As" punch "Them" punch kick punch kick.

Why were you treated this way? What had you done to earn Bucky's disdain? How could you prove your worth to him? Frustration boiled inside you, reaching its peak as you let out a guttural scream, causing the sandbag to plummet from the force of your final blow.

Panting, you collapsed on the gym floor, you were exhausted and emotionally drained, but you felt a strange sense of relief. You clenched and unclenching your fists. You flexed your fingers and winced as the pain shot through them.

You chose to ignore the pain and you slowly got up from the gym floor. You knew you had pushed yourself too hard, but it was the only way you could vent your frustration and anger.

Limping, you made your way towards the bench where you had left your belongings. The room felt heavy with the echo of your pounding. Your trembling hand found the familiar coolness of your water bottle, and you clutched it tightly, taking a long, refreshing gulp. The cool liquid soothed your parched throat.

Just as you were catching your breath, Bucky unexpectedly strolled into the room. His presence surprised you, you hadn't expected anyone else to be there, especially not him.

His gaze, sharp and perceptive, honed in on your movements, "Still trying to prove yourself, huh?" he remarked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, his tone laced with doubt.

You met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down even in the face of his skepticism. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone, including you," you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. "I'm just making sure I'm ready for whatever comes our way. Maybe you should worry less about what I'm doing and more about why you're not on the mission with the rest of the team."

Bucky's expression remained inscrutable, his indifference a stark contrast to your determination. He nonchalantly shrugged, an aloof response to your pointed words.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, your frustration with him boiling over. "Whatever, Barnes. Keep your doubts to yourself."

You began packing up your belongings, a clear signal that you were ready to depart from his presence. You suspected he was still watching you, his intense gaze never wavering, but you wanted nothing more than to distance yourself from him. It felt like he was deliberately keeping you from the mission, and the resentment simmered within you.

After finishing packing, you headed towards the exit, but Bucky halted you by grabbing your hand. You turned around, irritation clear in your eyes. "What do you want, Barnes?" you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. “What the hell? Let me go!”

Ignoring your protest, he led you back to the training area, placing you in front of him. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach. Did he intend to spar with you? The uncertainty hung heavily in the air, making the atmosphere tense.

You stood your ground, your nervousness growing with every passing second. "What? Scared?" Bucky teased, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, refusing to let his taunts unnerve you. You managed a fake smile and replied, "Of you? No. Why would I be?" Determined not to show any fear.

Bucky's smirk widened as he said, "Well, you should be." He locked eyes with you and asked, "Ready?" The challenge in his tone was clear.

You took another deep breath, squared your shoulders, and met his gaze head-on. "Alright, Bucky. I'm game. What's the plan?" Your voice remained steady, even as your nerves continued to buzz beneath the surface.

Bucky's lips curved into a smirk. He motioned towards the training mats, his movements smooth and practiced. "Just try to land a hit on me."

Without a moment's warning, he lunged at you, his attack swift and precise. You barely managed to block it in time, the impact sending a jolt through your arms.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you felt a sting to your pride. "Just one hit?" you questioned, a mixture of disbelief and defiance in your voice. Did he genuinely doubt your abilities? Determination flared in your eyes as you prepared to prove him wrong.

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't get ahead of yourself, doll. Come on, you're starting to bore me." You gritted your teeth and launched into your counterattack.

The atmosphere in the training room grew tense as you continued your attempts to land a hit on Bucky. Each time you launched an attack, he seemed to anticipate your every move, effortlessly blocking your punches and kicks. It was as if he had an innate ability to read your intentions, and it left you feeling frustrated and somewhat helpless.

With each failed attempt, Bucky's smirk grew wider, and he let out a low chuckle. "Come on, Y/N," he taunted, his tone dripping with playful mockery. "You've got to do better than that if you want to stand a chance."

His words stung, and they fueled your determination. You were well aware that Bucky was pushing your buttons, trying to rile you up, but you refused to let it show. You had a point to prove, not only to him but to yourself as well.

You decided to take another shot, launching into a new round of attacks, hoping to catch Bucky off guard. But just like before, he expertly caught your wrist each time, preventing your strikes from connecting. Frustration gnawed at you, and you let out an audible groan each time he effortlessly pinned your arms behind your back and pushed you back.

Bucky didn't hold back with his taunts either. "Is that the best you've got, doll?" he prodded, his gaze locked onto yours. "I've seen other recruits do better. What happened to all those praises they were singing about you?"

Taking a deep breath, you tried to surprise him with a sudden kick, but Bucky saw through your move. He even managed to catch your legs mid-kick, causing you to lose your balance and tumble to the ground.

His voice dripped with mock disappointment as he quipped, "Doll, I expected better than that. That was just plain bad."

You took a deep breath, frustration fueling your determination. This time, you decided to go all out. You lunged at him with full force, no holding back, hoping to land a solid hit. His dodge and blocks were frustratingly precise, but you didn't give in.

Finally, you managed to back him into a wall, and you saw an opening. You went for a powerful kick, but he swiftly caught your leg, pulling it towards him. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, your front pressed firmly against the hard surface.

"Doll, nice try," Bucky said, his tone edged with approval, "but you've still got long ways to go."

You groaned as he pinned you to the wall, frustrated since you couldn't beat him. "Fuck!"

He chuckled lowly, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his face mere inches from yours. "Language, sweetheart."

The feeling of his body pressed against yours sent tingles down your spine, and you tried to keep your breathing under control, your cheeks flushing.

Bucky seemed to notice your blush and couldn't resist a teasing remark. He leaned in even closer, his voice dripping with playful mischief. “What's the matter, doll? Is it too hot in here?" he teased, pressing himself closer to you.

Your blush deepened as he teased you, and you turned your head away from him, not able to meet his gaze. "You know what? You're seriously annoying."

Bucky's smile only grew wider, and he didn't let up. "Aw, come on, doll. Getting all worked up because you can't keep up?" he goaded, his warm breath tickling your neck. His face was even closer now, his eyes dark with a look you'd never seen before.

You huffed in exasperation, determined not to let his teasing get the best of you. "I can keep up just fine, thank you very much," you shot back, your competitive spirit coming to the forefront.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Well then," he challenged, his tone inviting. "Prove it. Try to break free from my hold."

Your breath caught in your throat at the suggestion, a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. "Okay," you agreed, your tone confident. You decided to take Bucky's challenge head-on.

With a swift and calculated move, you attempted to break free from his hold, using all the skills you had acquired during your training with the Avengers. Bucky, ever the skilled fighter, didn't make it easy, but you were determined not to give in.

You tried and tried, but you couldn't seem to break free from his strong hold. You were both sweating, the effort causing the air around you to grow thicker and heavier. You could feel his chest pressed against your body, muscles flexing as he maintained the firm grip he had on you.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you were both breathing heavily, neither of you willing to give in. In that moment, with your bodies pressed together and the heat between you almost unbearable, something changed. You felt his hold on you loosen slightly, and you took the opportunity to spin around, pinning him to the wall.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. His eyes, filled with desire, locked onto yours, and the tension between you seemed to reach a boiling point.

You couldn't help but smirk as you managed to gain the upper hand, "Huh, I wi-" But before you could finish, he swiftly turned the tables, pinning you back against the wall.

He chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Not quite, doll." He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, his voice low.

You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his arm pressing against your skin. "You were saying?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension between you reach a fever pitch. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your frustration bubbled up, and you couldn't help but shake your head in response. "That's not fair!" you protested, your voice tinged with exasperation. "I managed to break free from your hold. Doesn't that count for something?"

He chuckled, "Not it doesn't. You've still got a lot to learn. I could've easily gotten the upper hand on you again. The moment you let your guard down is the moment you lose the fight."

You clenched your jaw and stared into his blue eyes, not backing down from his challenge. "Okay enough with the taunting. I'm not afraid of you, Barnes."

His lips were so close, you could feel his breath against your skin. "You should be, doll," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

A moment passed between the two of you, and then, as if a dam had broken, he kissed you hard, it made you surprised, you gasped on his mouth and felt his tongue exploring you.

Your heart was pounding, the excitement building as you kissed him back. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you grew.

"God, Y/N," he groaned against your mouth. His metal hand reached for your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pressed you harder against the wall, his hips grinding against yours. You moaned at the friction, feeling your body responding to his touch.

The training room was forgotten as the two of you gave in to your desires, the heat between you driving you both wild. You knew it was a bad idea, but in that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was the pleasure, the heat, the intensity of it all.

"Bucky..." You panted, feeling his lips and teeth exploring your neck, his tongue licking you, tasting you.

The sound of his name on your lips sent him over the edge, and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hands found their way under your yoga pants, gripping your ass. He bit down on your lip, drawing a small moan from you. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

"Fuck, doll. You like this? Me fucking you against the wall?" he groaned against your mouth.

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words. “Tell me, do you want more?"

"Yes," you breathed, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me," he ordered, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you, Bucky��. please."

"Beg for it," he growled, his hands moving to the front of your yoga pants. He tugged them down, the cold air hitting your wet core, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, doll," he muttered, his fingers slipping into your panties, finding your wetness. "So fucking wet for me.” His fingers slid inside you, making you gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Is this what you want, doll?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your hands grasping at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. "Please," you moaned, your hips bucking against his.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, making you writhe and moan beneath him. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your breast. He groped you hard, squeezing and massaging you through your sports bra.

"Put your hands up," he commanded, pulling his fingers out of you. You complied, your hands reaching above your head. He pulled up your bra, exposing your breasts to him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You moaned, your hips bucking against him as he sucked and nibbled on your breasts.

"So responsive," he chuckled, his hand reaching between your legs once again, his fingers dipping into your wetness. "Such a wet little girl. You're dripping for me."

"You like this?" He growled, his fingers rubbing your clit, his thumb sliding up and down your slick folds. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me were you already wet when we started sparring? Did you want me to pin you against the wall? To fuck you hard?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure was too much. You were teetering on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. "Please, Bucky..." you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand, desperately seeking release.

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, right here, in the training room, where anyone could walk in and see us?"

He was right, you didn't even think of that possibility. You shook your head, "No.. of course not... it's just the heat of the moment... It's just... we're alone right now."

"You sure about that, doll? Cause I'm pretty sure I heard someone walk by a few minutes ago. What if it was Clint? Or worse, what if it was Fury? I bet he would love to see this. His little protégé, getting fucked by the Winter Soldier."

You froze, your eyes wide.

"You know what?" He chuckled, "Let's put on a show for them. Let them watch. Let them see how you beg and scream for me."

“Cat’s got your tongue doll? Where are all the firey comebacks now? Nothing to say?” Your mind was in a state of shock. You tried to think, who was it? But Bucky was stroking you at a relentless pace, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.  

"You want me to make you cum, doll? To make you scream my name?"

"Yes," you panted, you didn’t care anymore, all you wanted was release. Your body trembling as he drove you closer to the edge.

He reached up, gripping your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've wanted to fuck your attitude out of you ever since you came to the compound, doll,” he said, his voice husky with lust. "Watching you fight, all that fire, all that passion, it makes me so fucking hard. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to take you right here, to show you who's in control."

You couldn't take it anymore, the pleasure building, "I'm so close... Bucky," you moaned. You were so close, and he was taking you to new heights. You couldn't stop yourself, you could feel yourself losing control.

"Yeah I can tell, you're tightening around my fingers. Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Beg for it, and maybe I'll let you," he teased, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, sending you over the edge.

"Please, Bucky..." you cried, your hips bucking against his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined in frustration. "What the hell, Barnes?”

"Now, now," he tsked, his fingers trailing down your stomach, and stopping at your hip. "You don't get to come until I say so, doll," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

"But, please, I'm so close," you begged, the frustration almost unbearable.

"I know, but you need to learn who's in charge, and it's not you," he said, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, making you moan. "You have to obey my orders, Y/N."

"What the fuck, Barnes!" You screamed at him feeling angry at how he toyed with you. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He grabbed your hair and pulled it down making you winched in pain, "What did you fucking say to me?" He grabbed it harder when you didn’t answer him.

"Ouch." You winced in pain.

Bucky's eyes darkened and he tightened his grip. “First, you need to watch that mouth of yours." He was breathing heavily, his voice rough and commanding. "Or I'm going to shove my dick in it and put you in your place." he warned, his hand moving to grip your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

You gulped down at his threat. There was no mistaking the promise in his voice, but your pussy clenched at the thought of taking him into your mouth.  

"Second," he continued, his grip loosening slightly. "You need to learn that you don't get to question my orders, doll. You're going to be a good girl and listen."

You stared at him, unable to speak. He was serious.

"Answer me Y/N or I will leave you here, frustrated and wanting more," He threatened.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, his dominance and authority turning you on even more.

"Yes please, I'll obey," you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"Good girl, that’s more like it," he murmured, his metal hand coming up to caress your cheek. Bucky leaned closer and kissed your lips, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. He was sucking on your tongue and nibbling on your lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of your mouth. He kissed your cheek and moved down to your neck.

"Now, where are we?" He asked, his fingers back on your clit, rubbing in slow, agonizing circles. He was torturing you, teasing you.

He smiled wickedly, his hand moving from your clit and slipping inside you. He pushed two fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

You wanted to scream and yell at him, but you were unable to speak, the pleasure and the need for release overwhelming. You were panting and moaning, your eyes closed shut as you were trying not to come.

"Not yet." he growled. He pushed a third fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

"Beg," he commanded, his voice firm.

"Please, please, please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Louder," he ordered.

"Please!" you whimpered, the desire and need taking over. "Please, Bucky, fuck my pussy and let me come," you begged. You felt your inside tightening, you need to come right now.

Bucky leaned closer and kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, exploring every inch. He moaned into your mouth, his fingers still pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit. "No," he said, and your eyes snapped open, meeting his blue ones. He smirked, seeing that you were close. "If you come before I tell you, I will punish you, doll."

Your eyes widened and your whole body shook with fear.

"Do you understand?" He asked, his fingers slowly pumping inside you.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

He chuckled, "You're a needy little slut, aren't you? You'd beg for my cock too, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," you moaned, the word falling from your lips without a second thought. "Please, Bucky, I need to come. I need your cock inside me, fucking me hard and fast," you begged, the words tumbling from your lips.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers picking up their pace. "You're gonna cum for me now, doll. You're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then, when you've recovered, you're gonna get on your knees and suck my cock. And when I'm ready, I'm gonna fuck you, and I'm gonna make you scream my name."

You moaned loudly as his fingers brought you closer to the edge, his words sending a thrill through you.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, doll? Having my cock buried deep inside you, fucking you senseless?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you panted, the pleasure building. He added another finger and curled them inside you, hitting your g-spot, and you gasped.

"That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me. Let me hear you."

"I... I'm gonna..." you moaned, the pleasure building in your body. You couldn't hold back any longer, the pleasure overwhelming you,

"Come now!," he ordered his fingers working even faster, and suddenly, you exploded.

"BUCKY!" You screamed, your body shaking violently as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body was trembling, and your juices were flowing freely down his fingers

"Such a good girl," he praised, his fingers slowing, drawing out the last of your orgasm, licking them clean. “Delicious," he murmured.

You panted, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. He lowered you to the floor, your legs shaky from the intense pleasure.

Bucky chuckled, seeing the confusion on your face. "Don't worry, doll," he said, leaning down and kissing you. "We're just getting started."

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

Your knees trembled and you looked up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You did as you were told, dropping to your knees. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, and you obeyed. "Suck my cock." His voice firm and authoritative

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him slowly unzip his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. The serum must did something to him, as his member was definitely bigger than any man you'd seen before.

"Now," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Don't be shy," he coaxed, his eyes dark with lust.

You slowly reached up and grasped his thick shaft in your hand, feeling the hot, smooth skin, marveling at the size of him. You felt a jolt of excitement run through your body as you stroked his length, feeling him twitch in your hand. You could feel yourself growing wet as you continued to stroke his cock, his member growing even harder under your touch.

His fingers tangling in your hair  "Now, put my cock in your pretty mouth, doll," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You lowered your head and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You licked the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum. He groaned, his hips bucking as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

You hummed around him, the vibration making him moan. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots as you worked your mouth up and down his shaft, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a surge of pleasure run through your body as you sucked his cock, loving the taste and feel of him in your mouth. You could feel his grip tightening on your hair as you continued to suck him, your tongue dancing along his length.

You didn't have any practice beforehand, but you are naturally gifted hearing praises, such as "Mmm, that's it.”, "Just like that.", “Fuck, you are good.” and the way his thighs trembled beside your ears were a tell-tale sign that you were doing great.

"You look so good like this," he moaned, his hand holding onto the back of your head, guiding your mouth over his cock. "I've imagined you sucking me off before."

His words made you moan around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

"You're taking my cock so well, like you were made for it."

You whimpered around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat once again. The feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him, and the way he praised you were pushing you closer to the edge.

"God, your mouth feels so fucking good," he moaned, his hips thrusting as he fucked your mouth. "Such a good little slut, aren't you, doll?"

You felt your pussy clench at his words, your arousal growing with every stroke of his cock. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper into your mouth, loving the sounds of his moans.

His fingers tugged at your hair, the pain and pleasure mixing together to send another rush of pleasure through your body. You moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, causing him to thrust deeper into your mouth.

You whimpered, your eyes watering as he pounded into your mouth. You could barely breathe, his thick cock stretching your throat as he fucked your mouth. Your pussy throbbed, your arousal coating your thighs as he mouth-fucked you.

"Oh yeah, you love this, don't you?" He groaned. "You love choking on my cock." As he thrust his cock into your mouth, his hands travelled to your breast, squeezing them hard, making you moan.

He groaned as you continued to suck, his grip on your hair tightening, the pain sending another wave of pleasure through your body. He was fucking your mouth ruthless, the wet slurping sounds were the only sound in the room. And the sounds he was making was almost enough to make you cum.

It became harder to breath with each stroke of his cock meeting the back of your throat, tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

He looked down at you, the sight of your mouth around his cock was almost enough to make him cum. He pulled out of your mouth with a loud pop, leaving you gasping for breath and tears running down your face.

"Look at you, what a mess you are," he smirked, his eyes raking over your body. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

You felt your face flush, his words making your pussy ache with need. You whimpered, the need to be filled by his cock becoming unbearable.

"Do you want me to fuck you, doll? Do you want me to fuck you so hard, you can't walk tomorrow?"

You moaned, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, please," you begged, your voice hoarse. "Please, fuck me, Bucky." You couldn’t think straight, you had no filter, you were just saying whatever came to mind.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. "Say it," he growled, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"Please, Bucky," you said, your voice pleading.

"Try better than that," he said, his voice firm.

"Please fuck me, Sergeant," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "Please fuck me hard and fast until I can't walk. Please use me however you want."

He smiled wickedly. "Your words, not mine. Be careful for what you wish for, doll."

He shoved you onto the floor, his body looming over you. "On the floor. On all fours now," he ordered, his voice stern and commanding.

You scrambled to comply, getting onto your hands and knees. Your heart racing as he positioned himself behind you.

"Spread your legs," he said, and you complied.

He knelt behind you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing your skin. You could feel his hands on your hips, his cock rubbing against your wetness.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, Y/N?" He whispered, his voice low and husky.

You stayed quiet waiting for him. "I'm gonna make you scream and beg for me, I'm gonna make you forget everything, except my name."

His words sent a shiver through your body, his tone full of dominance and power.

"And when I'm done with you, you'll never forget me, Y/N. You'll always remember me, remember the way I made you feel."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your entrance, teasing you, tormenting you. His hands running over your ass. "But I'm not gonna go easy on you. You understand?"

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said, and with that, he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body quivering as he stretched you. "Such a tight little cunt," he groaned, his hips snapping against you, his cock buried deep inside of you. "So fucking perfect."

You cried out, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He started to move, his pace slow and steady, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

"Oh god," you moaned, your voice echoing in the room.

"You like that, Y/N?" As he slammed his cock into you, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, the sensation driving you wild.

"That's right, doll, take my cock," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Take all of it." He was rough, his pace fast and unforgiving, his cock filling you to the brim with every thrust. You cried out, the pleasure and pain mingling into a sweet symphony.

You moaned, your body shaking as he fucked you. He was pounding into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in a haze of lust and desire. "Who's pussy is this?," He asked.

"It's yours," you gasped, your body trembling.

"Say it again," he commanded, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

"It's yours," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Fucking right it is," he growled, his voice low and husky.

He was pounding into you, his pace relentless. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air.

He yanked your hair, forcing your head back and you whimpered. He kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, making you moan.

"Who's a dirty little slut?" He demanded, his hips slapping against yours.

"Me," you gasped, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm a dirty little slut, Bucky."

"That's right," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You're my dirty little slut, and I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You’re fucking mine."

Your body trembled, your muscles tensing as his cock slammed into you. You could feel the pleasure building, the pressure mounting inside of you. You were so close, and you needed him to finish you off. "Oh god, I’m so close," you begged, your voice desperate and needy.

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You'll cum when I say so, and not a moment before."

"Please," you begged, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "Please let me cum, Bucky."

"Soon, doll," he promised, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Very soon." He knew you almost came and he decided to torture you further when his fingers finding your clit and he pressed down hard.

You cried out, the pleasure and pain becoming too much. "Oh god," you whimpered, your body trembling. "Please, I can't take it."

He slammed his cock into you, his balls slapping against your clit. "Yes, you can," he growled. "And you will."

You whimpered, the pressure inside of you reaching a breaking point. "Bucky, please please please," you begged, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

"Now," he commanded, his voice harsh and commanding. "Cum for me, doll."

You cried out, the pleasure exploding throughout your body. Your walls clenched around his cock, your muscles spasming. Your mind went blank, the world around you fading away. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hips snapping against you, his cock pounding into you.

You were exhausted, your body drained of energy. He continued to fuck you, his pace slowing slightly.

He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "Such a good little slut," he growled, his hips slamming against yours. "Taking my cock so well."

"Bucky," you moaned, the pleasure building once again. "Please, I can't take anymore."

"Yes, you can," he said, his voice low and husky. He slapped your ass again, harder this time. "You're going to cum for me again, doll."

"No," you protested weakly, your body trembling with exhaustion.

“Yes," he growled, his thrusts becoming more intense. "You will." His metal hand sliding up your stomach, between your breasts, and around your throat.

Your body arched, pushing your hips further onto his cock. The sound of his ragged breaths mixed with yours as you both raced towards your climaxes. "I'm close, Y/N. So fucking close."

His hands pinched your nipples, sending another shock of pleasure through your body. He sucked on them, the sensation almost too much for you. You whimpered, his lips capturing yours again. Your tongues swirled around each other, tasting, devouring.

His cock slid in and out of you, his pace quickening. His moans and growls echoed around you as his orgasm neared. He was so close. So was you.

"Please, Bucky," you begged, your pussy clenching around his length.

He tightened his grip on your throat and slammed his hips into yours. His free hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles over it. His eyes meeting yours. his hips slapping against yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Cum with me, doll. Don't close your eyes. I want to see those pretty eyes as you come apart."

Your entire body shuddered, his command sending you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his length, milking him of his seed. Your body trembled, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of ecstasy. His breath becoming ragged as his own release neared.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slapping against you. "Your cunt is so fucking perfect."

"God, yes," you moaned, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

He slammed into you, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his release. "Oh god," he moaned, his hips snapping against yours. "I'm gonna cum."

"Yes, Bucky. Cum inside me," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your words were enough to send him over the edge.

He growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you, his cock filling you completely. He groaned as he cum, his body shuddering as his release washed over him.

"That's right," he groaned, his body going limp. "Take all of it." You felt him twitch inside of you, his hot release spilling into you.

You slumped forward, your body spent as it slick with sweat and cum.  You could hear Bucky panting behind you, his chest heaving. You rested your forehead against the floor, trying to catch your breath. You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Your muscles were sore and tired, your pussy throbbing.

Bucky was still inside of you, his cock softening. He pulled out, his cum spilling out of you. You could feel his cum leaking from your pussy, dripping down your thighs. "Look at that," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Such a pretty sight." He slid a finger between your folds, collecting the sticky mess, then he pushed it back inside you. You let out a small whimper as he slowly pumped it in and out.

Bucky turned you around, your head falling back against the floor. His face hovered above yours, his blue eyes burning with lust. He looked down at you, before he could say anything, you both heard footsteps approaching.

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then the next thing made your heart skipped as you heard the doorknob turning. You could only pray the ground to swallow you whole.

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the story! Apologies if the ending didn't meet your expectations, I'm considering a Part 2, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm open to any feedback for improvement. Your input means a lot.

If you want to see more, please show your support by leaving a like. Thank you for taking the time to read!

A/N : Thank you so much for the kind replies and support! I'm really glad you enjoy the story, you have no idea how much that motivate me to continue writing. Please stay tune for part 2! Love youuuu xx

[evilminji]

You know what? I just had A Thought(tm)~☆

Danny. Our bby boy. MINDING HIS BUSINESS. Maybe visiting one of his buddies in the Realms after he graduates. When he just?? Get full on tackled from the sky.

And like?

Huh.

THIS hasn't happened in a bit. Not since he's become king. Legit, no one dares. He's honestly kinda missed it. Alright, square up... Mr. Uuuuuh.... Who are you?

And it's this barely formed New Ghost. Still in that glitch-y goopy blob phase and everything. Is Baby. Why... why does this infant Want To Fight God? I mean. He Respects It(tm), no lie, but? Not exactly usual for him?

And it turns out? This dude is some rando hero. He basicly JUST died. By all rights SHOULD be resting and gathering his strength to Form Right. But he's so worried for his team mates and everyone else he CAN'T. Recognized a fellow Hero's Costume even at a distance.

Please. PLEASE! You have to help him! We have to WARN everybody!

And Danny is just? Oh no. This Actual Infant Baby is gonna Anxiety himself to Actual Second Death at this rate. Yes! Sure! Just CALM DOWN! Anything you need buddy! BREATHE.

And this dude? Who died? Is legit a minor player who got WAY too deep but refused to abandoned People In Need(tm). It happens. It HURTS. But he saved a LOT of lives before he went down. Him and his team were just some Minor Heros from Belarus. How they ended up in deep space? Even THEY couldn't tell you.

They couldn't even bring him home.

He forgives them.

He could NEVER blame his friends. Not for this. The planet is in danger. Some... some THING. An invasion. The League has to be made aware. He DIED helping a planet try to evacuate all that they could. He... at least he...

He can't remember if the Eggs got out. They... they're like babies. A whole room full of toddlers who couldn't run. They had to de-connect from the main building to lift it out. He can't... can't...

He saved them... right? Held on.. long enough? Why can't he.. he...

Danny has to make him focus be for the kid spirals. Don't think of your last moments. Purpose. You NEED to do something right now, right?

Right! The League! We gotta warn them! And... okay. Danny can totally do that. (What LEAGUE??!) He DEFINITELY knows who you are talking about and will tell them Right Away. YOU however are gonna rest up.

So he leaves the kiddo with Lunch Lady. Mother and Frightening Matriarch Extraordinaire. Lunch Box promises to SIT on him if he tries to sneak off. Good kid. Now eat your soup before you BECOME soup.

Time to bully the eyeballs. Whoms't the F*ck is this "league"? And where does he find it? Talk. He has sand and he's not afraid to use it. Don't MAKE him get out the pepper grinder! Yeah. That's what he THOUGHT.

After much, prolonged and unnecessary, whining and dramatic threatening... he gets a printed out map. Cheapskates even used flimsy paper. He gets there. Jaunt is even kinda nice. He says hi to a few folks he hasn't seen in a while.

Opens a portal.

Steps out.

Gets punched in the face. RUDE! He punches the flying blue man back. Dents their wall. Not even a LITTLE sorry about that now! See if HE does you a favor aga-... is that his Ex? John?

John! Constantine you B@STARD. YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS. *Ten different hands slap a twenty on the table at his feet, including Constantine. Who is refusing to look at anybody.* Well, okay then. Debt payed. Gonna buy himself a shake or something, after this.

ANYWAY~ Good News Or Bad News?

He is met with silence. It's like they've never seen an ethereal, giant, glowing man with a suit that looks like a cut out of the night sky, step out of an eye searing rip in reality before. Man they're lives must be boring. But frankly? Danny can wait. It's not HIS reality that's gonna get messed up. He can take care of it if the wanna be Wah Babies. Good News or Bad News??? Pick one.

He sits back in the air and waits.

@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites

[cy-cyborg]

Disability Tropes: The disabling change of heart

When a character in a story becomes disabled, they'll sometimes experience a trope that I like to call "the disabling change of heart". This is when the character goes through a massive change in their outlook, their personality, their goals or even roll in the story, specifically because they became (or are about to become) physically disabled. Sometimes, this will be in relatively small ways: the happy-go-lucky comedic relief character might become bitter, angry and jaded after getting into an accident that caused a spinal injury, or the severally depressed and nihilistic character might suddenly start acting more cheerful and hopeful, stating that loosing their leg has "put things into perspective and showed them what really matters". In other cases though, the impact is much larger, the heroic character you've been hearing about looses an arm thanks to the main character's actions, causing them to become consumed with anger and self-loathing which they take out on everyone else, eventually becoming an antagonist as they seek revenge for what the main character did to them. The morally grey or even villainous character is injured by their own scheme, giving themselves a permanent disability in the process, which prompts a change of heart and leads them to turn their lives around and become better people, maybe even deciding to team up with the heroes.

Now, having a character go through a personality and goal change due to a major life event, such as becoming physically disabled, isn't inherently bad. A lot of writers are told to tie major shifts in your character's development to major life events, because realistically, something like becoming newly disabled will at least impact how you view the world around you. I very frequently talk about how if I didn't loose my legs, I would have become a vastly different person, but the issues with this trope depends on how it's used and the reasons behind these developments, and whether or not the change suits the character in question.

Before we get into things, I would like to specify that in this post, I'm only going to be talking about how this trope is used with physical disabilities and other easily visible forms of disability. It does show up with characters who develop disabilities under the mentally ill and neurodivergent umbrellas, and is actually a bit more common than what I'm talking about today, but the specific ways its utilised are so different that it's more or less a separate trope, and one that deserves much more attention than I could give it here as this is already going to be a pretty long post. So for today, I'm keeping to it's use with physical and visible disabilities, and we'll talk about how this trope is used with neurodivergence and mental illness another day.

The main thing you need to be mindful of is ensuring that you, as an author, are not including your ingrained biases about disability into the reasoning behind the change. Let's look at one of the examples from before, an evil character who, after loosing their arm (because it's almost always loosing an arm for some reason) becomes a villain and wants revenge against the main character. In a story like this example, the character who became an amputee often views this new disability as something that has ruined their life. It's something that has caused them to suffer, and they want to make the main character (or whoever has "wronged" them) suffer like they did. Stories like this example portray disability as something that is not just horrible, but life-destroying, especially with villains who become all-consumed by the misery this disability has brought them. Many stories that utilise this version of the trope also often perpetuate the idea that if you become disabled, you'll have to give up all the things you love and your goals, even when this wouldn't necessarily be true for the character in question.

Let's say your character was a knight, and the main character cut off their arm in a training accident. obviously you can't be a knight with only one arm because you can't fight anymore, so they left their order. Now this character has become a villain and has found power that "makes up" for their disability, perhaps magic or some other force that doesn't exist in the real world, and are back to get revenge on the character for ruining their lives. Here's the thing though, the loss of a limb, or at least, the loss of an arm specifically, often isn't the career ender people think it is, even back then. In fact, there are many historical records of real amputees continuing to serve as knights and other similar military roles after loosing an arm or at the very least, continuing to fight in other ways. One such example was Götz of the Iron Hand, a mercenary knight who lost his arm to a cannon. Götz had fought as part of the Roman empire's military in 1498, but shortly after left to form his own mercenary company. He lost his hand in 1504 and continued his career as a mercenary with the help of an iron prosthetic capable of holding his sword and the reigns of his horse, among many other things such as writing, for another 40 years. Götz wasn't unique in this though, several suits of armour from the same time period have been found with integrated prosthetic hands, though the names of their owners are unknown. There was also Oruç Reis (aka Aruj Barbarossa), A privateer admiral who served the Ottoman Empire in and around the Mediterranean who lost his left hand - earning him one of many nicknames: Silver-Hand, thanks to the colour of his prosthetic. Oruç, like Götz, continued his career for several more years until he was eventually killed in 1518.

My point in bringing this up, is to highlight how important it is to double check that the reason your character's whole motivation for turning to villainy, isn't just based on your ideas about what a disabled person can or can not do. Actually double check it, research it, especially if it's important for your plot.

Even in the cases where the disability in question actually would stop someone from being able to do something, the incorrect assumptions can still occur and cause issues in different ways. For example, a character in a more modern setting who looses their arm due to an accident the main character was responsible for while serving in the military would be discharged, ruining the character's plan to become a general some day. This absolutely would be devastating for a character like that, and they realistically could struggle to adjust, both in terms of getting used to their disability and finding new goals for their life. They may well feel anger at the main character, however, if you are portraying just living with a disability, in the case of this example, living with an amputation as inherently "suffering" for no other reason than they are disabled, it is still perpetuating those really negative ideas about disability. I've said this a few times in other posts, but villains who are evil or even just antagonists purely because they're disabled or are trying to avoid becoming disabled is a trope all its own and one that is best avoided if you yourself aren't disabled, as even outside of spreading these negative ideas about life with a disability, it's just an overdone and overused trope.

But what about when this trope goes in the other direction? when you have an antagonistic or even just morally grey character who becomes disabled and this is the catalyst that turns them into a good guy?

For the longest time, I knew I usually disliked this version of the trope too, but I couldn't put my finger on why. With disability being the reason someone became a villain, the underlying reason it's there is often able to be boiled down to "I, the writer, think being disabled would be terrible and life like that is inherently suffering, so this character is angry about it," which is obviously an issue (the "inherently suffering" bit, not the anger). However, when a character becomes good due to becoming disabled, the reasoning is usually more along the lines of, "this is a big change in a character's life that has caused them to reconsider and revaluate things" (or at least, that's what I thought). This isn't bad, nor is it necessarily unrealistic. Hell, as I already said, I do consider my disability to be a catalyst that made me into who I am today. I also know plenty of people who, after becoming disabled later in life, did have a big change in how they viewed themselves and the world, and who consider themselves better people since becoming disabled. It's far, far from a universal experience, mind you, but it does happen. So why did this version of the trope still not sit right with me?

Well, I think there's a few reasons for it. The first being that there's a tendency for non-disabled people to think real disabled people are just incapable of evil deeds, both in the sense that they aren't physically capable of doing them (which is bad and not even always true for the reasons we already discussed), but also in the sense that there's this idea that disabled people are, for some reason, inherently more "good" and "innocent" - As if breaking your back or loosing a limb causes all evil and impure thoughts to be purged from the body. This is a result of many folks viewing disabled people as child-like, and thus attributing child-like traits (such as innocence) to them, even subconsciously. This is an incredibly common issue and something disability rights organisations are constantly pushing back against, as this mentality can cause a lot of unnecessary barriers for us. With how often I and many other disabled people are subjected to infantilization, I would be honestly shocked if it wasn't at least partially responsible for people thinking becoming disabled is a good reason to kick off a redemption arc.

This infantilization isn't unique to physically disabled people by the way, in fact it's way, way, more commonly directed at people with intellectual and developmental disabilities - or at least, people are more open about it, but as I already mentioned, how that is reflected in tropes like The Disabling Change of Heart is vastly different and deserves a post of it's own.

That's mostly just speculation on my part though, since that infantilising mindset does show up a lot in media, but not usually as part of this trope specifically.

However, it's not the only reason I wasn't a fan of it. When the disabling change of heart is used to fuel redemption arcs, I think, once again, that the disability itself being credited with causing the change directly is another factor. When this happens, it's usually because "it put things into perspective for me and showed me what really mattered."

This sounds better than our previous example on the surface, but stories that use this logic are often still portraying disability as an inherently bad and tragic thing, something so bad, in fact, that it makes all the other (legitimate) issues they thought were massive before seem so small by comparison. This is a type of inspiration porn: content made to make non-disabled people feel inspired or just better about their own situation. It's the mentality of "well my life is bad, but it could be worse, at least I'm not disabled like that!"

In a fictional story, this might look like an athlete character who dreamed of making it big so they could be famous and get out of poverty. They were a dick to anyone who got in their way but only because they were worried about not being able to make rent if they don't constantly win. One day though, they overworked themselves and got into a car accident on the way home because they were too tired, and now they're in a wheelchair and can no longer walk, which is (supposedly) absolutely tragic and way worse than anything else they were already going through. But they end up becoming a better person because it has put things into perspective for them. Yeah they were struggling to make ends meet, but at least they weren't disabled! Now that they are, they know they shouldn't have cared so much, because money doesn't matter when compared to not being able to walk, right?

As well as portraying disability in a negative light, these kinds of stories dismiss and diminish the other struggles or challenges the character is experiencing, placing the status of "not disabled" above all else.

There's also the fact that, when a lot of real people say their disabilities had positive impacts on their lives, they don't usually mean the disability itself is directly responsible for the change. There's exceptions of course but for myself personally, and most of the people I know who say they are better people because of/since becoming disabled, the disability has been more of a neutral catalyst than the actual cause of positive change. Meaning, it opened the door to allow those changes to happen, but it wasn't the direct cause. For me personally, becoming physically disabled at a young age didn't make me a nice person like people expect, I was still a little judgemental asshole for a lot of my childhood. However, because I was disabled, I had to travel a lot, initially because I needed medical treatment that my local hospital wasn't equip to provide, and later, because I started competing in disability sports. because of both of those things, I met people I never would have otherwise who made me reconsider what I'd been taught on a wide range of subjects, and made me question where those beliefs had come from in the first place. When I say my disability played a part in who I became, it wasn't because my disability itself change me, but it helped me meet people who were positive influences on me and my life. but when creatives make characters who experience arcs like this, they ignore this, again, defaulting to the "this was a bad thing that just put all my other problems into perspective" reasoning.

Some iterations of this trope also use disability as a kind of "karmic punishment" where the disability is portrayed as a rightfully deserved punishment for an evil character's deeds - usually something relating to the disability they acquired but not always. An example might look like an evil tyrant who punishes the rebels they captured by cutting off their hands. Eventually, this catches up with him, maybe the friend or a child of one of the rebels is able to capture the tyrant and cuts his hands off as payback so that he gets a taste of his own medicine, a taste of the suffering he imposed on others. Now facing at least one of the same realities of the people he subjugated, he realises the error of his ways. With some pressure from the main characters, he has a change of heart and surrenders himself, steps down to let someone else take his place, or perhaps he decides to start changing policies to be more in-line with these new morals until some other character usurps him, becoming an even bigger threat than the previous former tyrant.

Once again, stories that use a disability like this are still portraying the disability as an overall inherently bad thing, but there's the added layer at play in this example. The thing is, there are a lot of people in real-life who actually believe disability is a punishment from God. I remember one time when I was over in the US, an older lady came and sat down on the seat beside me on the bus and started asking me about my disability and specifically, how I became disabled. This isn't an unusual interaction, it happens fairly regularly whenever I use public transport, but on this particular day, the conversation suddenly shifted when I told her I became disabled when I was very young. This woman, despite the bus-driver's best efforts to get her to stop, ended up lecturing me for an hour and a half (during which time I couldn't move due to how my wheelchair was held in place) about how my disability was punishment from God for my parent's sins. She then tried to convince me to attend her church, claiming they would be able to heal me. And the thing is, this isn't an uncommon experience.

A lot of disabled people are targeted by cults using this same method: they'll convince people their disabilities are a punishment, make them believe they deserved it, that they just weren't good enough, but don't worry, if you repent and come to our specific church we can heal you. There was even a case in Australia recently that uncovered a cult called Universal Medicine, who taught that disabled people were reincarnations of evil people, and that being disabled in this life was their punishment, as well as that parents who have disabled children were being punished for other sinful behaviours. They were found to be operating a disability care service named Fabic that was being paid for by the NDIS, a subsection of the Australian government funded healthcare system that specifically aids disabled Australians by paying for and subsidising treatments, technologies (such as mobility aids) and other services relating to their disability. Fabic was found to be stealing excessive amounts of funding from their disabled clients under the guise of therapies and carer services, but was not actually helping their clients at all. Whether it's just taking advantage of them to get their money, or actually using this logic as a justification to mistreat them, this mentality of "disability is a punishment" actually gets real disabled people hurt or worse, and so seeing it come up in media, even if there is no ill-intent, can be very distressing and uncomfortable for disabled audiences.

So with all this being said, is the disabling change of heart a trope you should avoid in all it's forms and versions? No, but it does need to be handled with extreme care. I do think it should be avoided as a reason for a character becoming evil for the most part. If that really can't be avoided in your story though, at the very least, ensure that you foreshadow the change. Your happy little ray of sunshine, embodiment of sweetness and innocence type character probably isn't going to turn murderous and want revenge for an accident for example. A character who is likely to be driven to that kind of extreme of wanting revenge for their disability, so much so that they become a villain, probably already had at least a few traits that would predispose them to that line of thinking already, before becoming disabled. As for when it goes in the other direction, and you have a character becoming a good guy, avoid using the reasoning that "the disability put things into perspective for me". Instead, if you must use this version of the trope, use the character's new disability as the reason they encountered other people and situations that challenged their views, things they wouldn't have encountered otherwise. No matter the reason though, be very careful to avoid inspiration porn, and as always, try to find a sensitivity reader to give your story a once-over, just to make sure something didn't slip under your radar.

[Thumbnail ID: An illustrated image showing the same elf character twice. The picture of her on the left shows her laughing evilly, two tiny horns protruding through her brown hair. She is wearing a black dress and red shoes. On the right shows her in a yellow dress, sitting in a bright pink wheelchair with her head held eye and her eyes closed. The horns have been replaced with a glowing halo. In the centre is text that reads: "Disability Tropes: The disabling change of heart." /End ID]

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

Dabi and Shigaraki Soulmate AU

Dabi

Your soulmate's name is tattooed on your skin

you live in a world where everyone over the age of 16 has a name written on their body somewhere, belonging to their soulmate

always an exciting day, and you were ecstatic as you searched your body in the mirror to find the words as they popped up

soon, along your collar bone, the name you were looking for finally appeared

Touya Todoroki

you had heard of the todoroki family, Endeavor was the number 2 hero after all, and you knew he had children. Possibly this soulmate was one of them?

however you found very little information on his children's identities, but you were hopeful that you would find something eventually

however, you do eventually find a few articles from a few years ago that tell you the worst news you could imagine - touya todoroki had died in a fire

it's been years now, you're in your early 20s, and have mostly accepted the fact that you'd never get your soulmate. you hoped to find someone one day you could still love like one, but most people aren't super into dating someone with a visible reminder that they don't belong together

over these years, you've made your way into being a small villain as well. no one serious, it happened mostly out of necessity, but you're a villain nonetheless

which helps lead you to an almost dorky looking little group of villains, rightfully called the league of villains to keep up with the dorky appearance

none of them really seem all that serious, kind of just seem like a bunch of people who have no where else to go, which you can't judge them for

toga, a cute younger girl who had quickly turned friendly with everyone there, was fascinated with the idea of soulmates. you didn't blame her, she had only recently gotten her name, but this led her to asking everyone if they had met theirs yet, what their names are, anything about them.

most people didn't want to talk about it, and the ones who did didn't have anything interesting to say. your leader insisted that soulmates were a waste of time, and the emo looking dude by him agreed

you felt bad that toga wasn't getting the conversations she was looking for though, and you decided you'd show her yours.

"Touya todoroki? isn't that that pro heros last name? Do you think your soulmate is a hero?"

you shook your head, smiling sadly as you told her "no, he's been dead for years. never even met the dude"

she frowned, feeling sad for you, and changing the convo made you miss the wide eyed stare directed at you from across the room

dabi, who had caught your name earlier but blew it off as a coincidence since you only said your first name, was actually stunned

when he was younger, he dreamed of a happy life with his soulmate, but after waking up from the coma he barely ever spared a thought about them

now, here you were, right in front of him and clearly sad about the idea that you didn't have a soulmate

and for the most part, he was so fucking grateful that you had no way of knowing who he was. hearing his name made the smallest part of him want to get to know you, but he has more important things to do. plus, realistically, he doesn't know you. he doesn't owe you anything

so he never said anything. never even gave a hint of who he was. you two did get close over time, always relying on one another for help and support

it wasn't until probably a year later when in a fight dabi gets badly wounded, he's unconscious, and you're panicking, where things begin to unravel

he clearly has a huge gash in his torso, and your main focus is stopping the bleeding, so you cut open his clothes as you need to and begin fixing him up as best as you can

in the middle of doing this, you see what looks like a tattoo along his ribs. and you think nothing of it, till you realize it's his soulmate mark. he's never mentioned anything about his soulmate, and you couldn't help your twinge of jealousy at the idea of someone out there being his soulmate.

even if you couldn't have your real soulmate, you've come to really care about dabi since you've met him. you don't know if you love him, but you at least have a little secret crush

so, you take a peek, and you get dizzy when you see what it says.

that's your name. your full name. exact.

you're stunned, speechless, can't even process how you feel right now.

and as dabi starts to wake up, and he asks what you're doing, you can't help but weakly say "Touya?"

he mentally curses, immediately realizing you saw his mark. but he can't do anything about it now, and he's kind of stuck laying here with you as you keep him from dying

"...yeah, that's me"

you're confused, you ask him why he never told you, you're rambling out questions and he can't even keep up with it.

'listen, when we met, I heard toga read that name off your chest. I see it almost every day. I've known this whole time, but before, and even now, I have plans I have to carry out. back then I didn't tell you because I couldn't be bothered to care with you, but now I didn't want to tell you because I wouldn't know what to do. I can't promise love, or even being alive, and it seemed easier for you just thinking he, or I, was dead."

you stared at him, processing everything

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked without your permission... but, I want you to know that I won't force anything on you. If you want a relationship, I'm more than happy. I'm happy with whatever you give me, even if nothing changes. I just ask that you don't push me away."

he nodded, and told you he promised to keep you around as much as possible, and that was that

he still didn't know what he wanted to do with you, but you grew more attached every day until you could say with certainty that soulmate or not, you were in love with him.

nothing would come of this for a long time though, maybe a few nights of make out sessions with too much sexual tension, but no real talk of feelings or relationships.

you grew kind of comfortable with it like this, even if sometimes you wanted a more stereotypical relationship with all the dumb sappy stuff, you had thought you didn't even have a soulmate for so long that just being near him was a blessing

dabi decided he didn't want to think of you as a soulmate. he didn't want to think he had any sort of obligation to love you or treat you a certain way. if anything was going to come of this, it would be of his own will. not the universes.

which is why it took so long, dabi could always admit you were attractive, and over time you were a great friend and someone he could truly care about, but he didn't know If he LOVED you, he didn't know if he could feel that serious for you

so it took some time, and took some real thinking for him decipher his weird complex feelings towards you, until eventually he decided that yes, he could love you.

but he wanted to wait until he did love you to do anything. and also, your existence didn't change the fact that he had plans and goals he needed to see through

so now, he's just done his big reveal, now the whole world knows who he is, and even though he didn't kill his brother like planned, he still deems it a somewhat success

he's elated to at least have come this far, he could do the rest next time, but right now all he can focus on is how happy you are for him. both for him and that he came out okay somehow. he had told you about his past in little bits, so you didn't need to 'comfort' him in any way, even though it hurt you to think about how awful his life has been

but he has his head on your lap as he stares up at your face, focused as you help him fix the staples for the new scars that have formed from this fight, and he felt so truly comfortable right now.

he has no stress, he had no anxiety about the future, it was just you and him right now.

'I love you, you know'

he spoke so casually, as if you hadn't been waiting your entire life to hear him say those words

in your head you were screaming, crying, everything. but all you could say was

'I love you too'

Shigaraki

You and your soulmate can communicate in your dreams

ever since you were little, every single dream you had consisted of you and a little boy, together in a white room

some of your furthest memories of these dreams were quiet as the two of you kind of just stared at each other, saying nothing

but you recall as one day, you finally said hi. you told him your name, and asked his.

he seemed shy, and nervously scratched at his neck as he answered you, telling you his name was 'Tenko Shimura'

there's blurry memories of you talking to him more and more, learning more about this kid, until he disappeared for a couple weeks

to you, these are just dreams, so you don't think too much of it until he eventually does come back but very different than you remember

the shy expression on his face turned into one of shell shock almost, and his hair had turned completely white

you tried asking what happened, but for a good few weeks (even though he only popped up maybe 5 times at most), he didn't even look at you.

eventually, he did speak, but all he really said was that he got his quirk, and he did something bad

for years after that, you rarely ever saw him. as you grew older you assumed it was because you were growing out of your 'imaginary friend' phase, but every night your dreams always consisted of that empty white room.

eventually you reach high school, and your mental health takes a tank. you can barely sleep, you can barely do anything. so you end up on a night owl schedule, sleeping all day on weekends, up all night every night, and barely sleeping on school days.

and for the first time in probably years, you saw tenko again.

both of you seemed actively surprised at seeing one another, and you can't help but notice how much he's grown as well

he's obviously older, probably the same age as you, his hair has gotten a little longer, his skin doesn't seem to have improved any which makes you a little sad that he hasn't seen a doctor yet, and he looks unhealthily lanky

he's clearly eyeing you too, he kind of forgot that he ever had a partner of sorts in this weird dream world having not seen you in so long

'why are you here?'

'I don't know, because I'm asleep right now i guess'

'do you always sleep during the day? I'm guessing your in Japan too, right?'

'I sleep whenever I want, but usually I'm up all night. and yes, im in japan'

this made you realize something, so you asked 'are you a real person?'

'unfortunately'

this very well could be just a part of your dream. but it makes sense that he very much is another living person. so you want to test it

'hey, I wanna try something. would you be willing to try and go to sleep at the same time?'

he made a weird face at you, clearly confused, 'why would I do that?'

'because this is cool! if you really are a real person, and not just some dream boy, then it'd be fun to have someone to talk to. and if we sleep at the same time, we have all night together'

'why should I care'

'do you have anything better to do in here?'

he was silent, you were right. your dream world wasn't kind enough to give you anything to do, and even tho it didn't necessarily feel like you were in there for hours, it still was a good while to be sitting in an empty white room doing nothing

'fine. what time'

figuring that the only respective time was at night, you had to shift your whole schedule around again, but this led to more frequent meetings with each other

it wasn't every night, there were some nights where he couldn't be bothered to go to bed, or you were too busy to do so, but you saw each other a lot more consistently now

most of the time, you were leading these conversations, asking him questions about his life and stuff, and he answered fairly vaguely unless it was something he actually cared to talk about

which you found was video games. that's all he really did, especially League of Legends

so you made an effort to play some of these games, that way you could understand what he was talking about or talk about the lore with him

for a couple years, you two were best dream friends, even though you never met irl. you always considered asking if you could meet, but he seemed nervous when you asked if you could actually play a game together at some point so you dropped it

as much as he had grown to love these dream times, he was scared to meet you in person. in dreams, there was still a layer of protection between you and him. in real life, you actually get to meet the true and real him.

plus, as he got older, AFO had more and more expectations for him, and soon the League of Villains was formed

this caused him to be busy a lot more, which meant he slept less, which caused his time in the dream world to dwindle again

you understood, you're 20 years old and have your own things to do, but you do miss him when he isn't there

the highlight of your day is seeing him, honestly

however, a few months later, you're scrolling on your phone and you see some news about villains, nothing new really, but a picture included peaks your interest

it's kind of blurry, but the man in the picture of one of the members of this group or villains looks very similar to tenko

and within the next few weeks, as the league becomes more active, more pictures come out and eventually you're positive - that's your dream boy

you honestly don't really care he's a villain all that much, you aren't particularly fond of most heroes, and you can't help but want to go to him

so, you find a way, and with stains message sparking more people to want to join the league it makes it a lot easier for you to do so

as you make your way into this weird little bar, you don't see him at first, you see a few other members who mostly don't really care that you're there. which is fine to you, you're not here for them

you're ready to ask one of them where Tenko is, however, until he turns the corner and makes his way into the room

luckily for him, he notices you before you can yell out his name in excitement, and he loudly says your name in confusion

you run over to him, smiling huge seeing him. you open your mouth, ready to speak, but before you can he tells you to come with him, so you do

he leads you deeper into the base, into what you suspect is his room. it's kind of gross, with dirty clothes and trash everywhere, but you ignore it for now

'why are you here'

it kind of hurts your feelings that he isn't as excited to see you as you are him, but he never has been the most excitable person, so you try to keep that in mind

'I found out a while ago that you were here, and I was really hoping that it wasn't some doppelganger or that it wasn't just a coincidence that this dream person happened to look like a real person.'

'you shouldn't be here. you're not a villain'

'you don't know that. you never told me you were a villain'

he basically went :/ at you, he didn't know what to think really

on one hand, yes, he was excited to see you. but he didn't know what to do with you here. you didn't seem like a villain, maybe your quirk could be useful somehow, but did you even want to actually join the league?

plus, now there is no safety net between you two. and he's terrified. you're the only 'friend' he's ever had, even if it was in his head his whole life, and he doesn't want you to hate him or leave like everyone else

'if you stay here, you have to help. you answer to me. you work for my cause.'

'I can do that'

'also, my name... it's Tomura Shigaraki now. so don't use,, that other name'

you decided not to ask why, and just accepted the situation now.

so from day 1, you were his biggest supporter and friend. whatever your morals were before, you didn't really care now. you were happy here, with this weird little family, and especially with Tomura

every day while not working you were spending time with him, he finally let you play games with him, you were both happy

he started to learn just how much he truly cared about you, you're the only person he truly feels safe with. he feels like himself, you give him the chance to feel happiness instead of just be consumed with hatred every day

'hey, y/n, do you ever wonder why we dream of each other?'

you had gone to sleep a few hours ago, but woke up when you felt weight on your bed, and opened your eyes to see Tomura sitting there staring blankly at the wall

'yeah, I haven't really heard of it before, and I haven't asked anyone since I was little. but they all told me it's just dreams, nothing special'

he said nothing, but he turned to look at you now.

'but, I feel like it has to mean something. something important. it led me to the most important person in my life.'

he couldn't help but smile as you said that, and he nodded, 'I agree. I used to not care about it that much. but I'm glad I got to meet you, in my dreams and especially in real life.'

he was being especially open about his feelings for once, which you loved, but it was also confusing

'tomura, are you okay?'

he was quiet again, this time clearly thinking. you let him, fiddling with your fingers as you waited. you were nervous for some reason

'I don't know. I don't know what this feeling is. Just, you make me happy. nothing else makes me happy. you feel... safe, and warm. everyone else is so meaningless, but I don't know if I could keep going without you. I don't want you going on missions because you might not come back. I want to kill anyone who takes you away from me.'

he was rambling, clearly speaking his thoughts as they came, and your heart was melting the entire time. you didn't want to assume, but you were hopeful

'tomura, do you love me?'

that clicked in his brain. he couldn't word these feelings correctly in his head, but love sounded right. as far as he knew what love was supposed to be, he figured that yes, he did love you

so he nodded again.

'tomura.. I love you too'

he didn't know what to do now. he just sat there for a while, thinking about what this meant.

'can I hug you?'

'you know I can't touch you'

'it's okay, I trust you.'

as you hugged, you eventually felt the palm of his hand against your back, knowing he was being especially careful not to touch you.

'I'm going to let go now, if you want to move your hand.'

'not yet. I like this'

[dr-spectre]

Guess who turned 7 years old?

SPLATOON 2!!!!! Everyone's favourite Splatoon game!!!! Right? Right guys....? We love Splatoon 2 yeah....? It's the best one right.....? Totally not gonna become the middle child of the series that gets overshadowed by the new fresh Splatoon 3 and the nostalgia of the first game right.....?

Okay, jokes aside about if Splatoon 2 is actually good or not. This was the game that actually got me into Splatoon, I knew about the series since it's announcement but I couldn't play the first game because like the rest of general public, I didn't own a wii u. Still don't but I would love to have one to mod. (And play Splatoon 1 online with fan servers...)

I think Splatoon 2 really did bring a lot of cool stuff to the table and it had a lot of quality of life features and interesting weapon, sub and special concepts.

It gave us the dualies!! THE DUALIES! I LOVE THE DUALIES!

It gave us the brellas! Which.... were kinda bad at launch and still are bad till this day....

BUT! I dont wanna talk about weapons because thats BORING! I wanna talk about one of the best things Splatoon 2 gave us...

OFF THE HOOK! PEARL AND MARINA! These girls are some of the most popular characters in the series and for good reason. They are both funny, likeable, charming, witty and have developed backstories by the time Octo Expansion comes around. Plus their chemistry is top-notch and so damn CUTE! It's almost has if they are somehow more than friends and that kind of connection is canon and people who try to deny it are fucking idiots and will never be in a relationship of their own.....

Also Splatoon 2 gave us a pretty solid hero mode at launch, sure it was basically more Splatoon 1 hero mode but hey, the first hero mode was fun so more of the same is fine by me. Plus you get Marie's classic snark too while you go through levels, she's nice company surprisingly. Way better than some old ass crusty dude...

It also gave us....

totally didn't fuck up my mental health this year and last year and caused me chest pain and discomfort until I had to dig and dig AND DIG for knowledge just to salvage it and make sure my favourite character in the fucking series was given the respect she deserves....

....hypno/octo Callie.... totally didn't fuck up this villain arc for her huh Nintendo? Totally didn't throw away the depth you built up (and was shown in concept art) only to try and hastily fix it 2 years later with an obscure relationship chart no one fucking talks about, not even the timeline explainers...

totally didn't use the wrong terminology to describe her situation and made everything so much worse because you wanted a simple black and white story for the kiddies yeah Nintendo? Despite you making stuff grey in the dlc expansion so the both story modes now clash like oil and water theme wise.

And yet you still treat her like dirt. Still using the wrong poorly localised words. If I still gotta repeat to the sky one more time that callie was under hypnosis and not forceful brainwashing I might have a stroke. You can't even fucking brainwash someone with hypnosis because the limitation of hypnosis is that the person under it must be fully comfortable with the suggestion and the suggestion cannot go agaisnt their morals and ideology. AND GUESS WHAT BRAINWASHING IS! FORCING DIFFERENT IDEOLOGIES INTO SOMEONE'S HEAD! DO YOU GET WHY I HAVE AN ISSUE NOW?!?!?! JUST USE THE WORD HYPNOTISED NINTENDO! THATS ALL YOU GOTTA DO!! ILL BE SOOO HAPPY!!!

YOU TOO INKIPEDIA! I CAUGHT YOU USING THE WORD TOO MULTIPLE TIMES! you better change it... just change brainwashed to hypnotised and I would literally kiss you on the lips or something idk... I love you inkipedia but that's all you gotta change okay? Pretty please? With a cherry on top?

ENOUGH OF THAT! I WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE!!!

Do you know what else Splatoon 2 gave us?

OCTO EXPANSION BABY! I know people love to call this overrated now but I really don't care. It's not overrated, it's perfectly rated. It also gave us PLAYABLE OCTOLINGS! Which was a highly requested thing people really really wanted and they gave us what we asked for! Even though they lacked a lot of customisation options.... still do till this day... (Nintendo is it really that hard to come up with new hair? The community has been doing that for years for you man.)

And of course... the last thing I want to talk about...

This is probably my favourite Splatfest to date. It brought in a lot of actual genuine philosophical discussion on what kind of world is best, a world of chaos? Or a world of order? I chose team chaos because when the youtuber/streamer Etika was still around he chose team chaos and I chose that team because of him... rest in peace...

The shifty station too was phenomenonal as you got to hear Fly Octo Fly and Pearl would come in AND YOU GOT TO USE HER PRINCESS CANON!!!! IT WAS SO FUCKING COOL AHHHH!!!

God Pearl is so cool... i can't believe I actually used to dislike her. I wanna beat up teen me so badly for having such bad takes. Marina is hot sure, but, Pearl is just so fucking funny. Man what was wrong with 13 to 17 year old me....

Anyways, I wanted to ramble about Splatoon 2. It's pretty special to me as it was the reason I am here today, so I can't really criticise it as much as others do. Well... aside from one obvious thing but, I've done that many times.

Also, before I go... NINTENDO!!! BRING BACK SHIFTY STATIONS FOR SPLATOON 4!!! DO IT!!! STOP BEING COWARDS!!!!

[tootiecakes234]

Katsuki Comfort

This…. This is exactly why you tried to stay off of social media. Nothing good ever came from it.

Being a pro hero, you and Katsuki’s names were constantly in headlines.

Most of the times on the news, it’s for the great things the both of you do and it’s separate depending on the missions you both go on.

But online is another story. Apparently the general public didn’t think the two of you belonged together. All over fan pages and popular accounts saying how they thought he would look better with Uravity or Deku.

They either said they looked better with him,and seriously what the fuck does that even mean?? Or that he seems to have better chemistry with them.

Seeing it once or twice wouldn’t have killed you, but you’d fallen into a rabbit hole… and now you were spiraling and at some point you started to agree with them.

Maybe someone that looked and acted like you wasn’t good enough for Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight. Maybe you just didn’t measure.

You weren’t even in the top 20 hero’s like the other two were. So why in the hell was he settling for you? Why is with you if-

“Hey y/n. I’m home. Where the hell are you?”, you heard Katsuki shout from the front door.

You quickly shut your laptop and tossed you phone on the bed. The next thing you know he’s bursting through your room door with a frown on his face.

“What the hell is your problem?”, he asked

“What are you talking about?? You just walked in here. Why do you think I have a problem.”

“Cause usually your ass is like an excited puppy, rushing my ass at the front door and today…. Nothin. So answer my damn question would ya?”

“I’m not a fucking dog Katsuki. I don’t have to be waiting for you and wagging my tail because you came home to me.” You snapped back at him and you immediately regretted it. You were taking your insecurities out on him but they were too much and you were hurting too bad.

When you looked up at him Kats mouth was set in a stern line and he’d crossed his arms. He looked like an unmovable wall. His eyes were locked on you like he was waiting for you to say something else.

But you couldn’t. There was already a lump in your throat and you knew if you started talking, the tears would 100% start flowing.

“You gonna stop acting like damn child and use your fucking words? I got all day to sit here.” There was no malice in his voice. No irritation.

“It’s nothing.” It came out as a murmur as you were getting up and making a swift exit for the bathroom. You didn’t want to be around him right now. Didn’t wanna say anymore hurtful things.

You almost made it too, but of course that freakishly inhuman speed of his caught you off guard yet again.

His hand wrapped around your wrist and spun you back to him.

“Can you please let go of me?” Now it was a whisper. A whisper and the first tear falling.

“ I’ll let you go after you tell me what’s got you this upset. You pissed at me about something? Your period about to start?? What the hell is it?” Asking again but the time his other hand was tilting your chin up to look at him.

The time your eyes made contact with him the dam holding back those tears broke and babe it was not a pretty cry. It was an ugly, blubbering, gross cry.

This isn’t the first breakdown Katsuki has seen you have and he’s gotten pretty good at handling them with you. So he wraps you up is his strong arms and just holds you. He tucks your head under his chin and gently sways back and forth like he’s coddling a small child. His hand is rubbing up and down your back.

Everyone knows Dynamite and a lot of people know the attitude on Bakugo.

But you were the only one who knew how patient and loving Katsuki is. The way he cares for you…. Even when you feel like you don’t deserve it.

Eventually the sobs calm.

“M sorry. I- I d-didn’t mean to get upset with you. I- I just- Are you sure you’re happy with me Katsuki…..am I really enough for you?” You were mumbling into his chest but you were sure he’d heard you with the way his breathing slowed and his arms tightened around you.

“Oh…. Now I get it. You’re not pissed and it’s not your period. You’ve just completely lost your damn mind…”

“I’m not crazy. I’m being serious!” You tried to pull away from. Retreat back into yourself but the man was stubborn and had arms made of steal apparently.

“Look woman I love you. Is that not enough?”

“Well people don’t care about that. You are a top 3 hero. You’re smart and talented and hot. You should be with someone…. Idk… more than me I guess. I’m just scared one day you’re gonna realize you could do a lot better than settling for me.” You said all that with your ear pressed to his chest and the loud thump of his heart in your ear.

“Look, I’m gonna say this once so make sure your ears are open woman.” He pushed you back from him so he could peer into your eyes when he spoke. “I don’t give af what anyone else thinks. You already know that. I love you. You’re a nutcase and you grind my fucking gears to no end, but there ain’t anybody else in the fucking world id be willing to put up with. I don’t like people! And I love you. That’s all you need to know. So cut this I could do better bullshit out…. Doesn’t get any better than you.”

He kept eye contact the entire time. Even when the silent tears started spilling over. He just took his thumb and wiped them away.

“You know what I hate though”

“What?” You sniffled

“I really fucking hate the way you make me say sappy ass shit like this. It’s fuckin embarrassing.” It sounded like he was exasperated but that goofy ass grin was still etched on his face.

A watery smile started pulling at your lips. Your boyfriend was the sweetest jerk.

“ ‘sides. I already got a ring. So ain’t no turning back.”he threw that in there like he was talking about the freakin weather!

He bent down and placed a kiss on your wet lips.

“What ring??!?? You bought a ring!?!”

“Yea so stop your damn “you could do better bullshit”. You’re stuck with me.” And he started walking away towards to bathroom. “And uh- it’d be awesome if ya said yes” as he shut the door to the bathroom closed.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. You went to the bed and flung yourself on it.

He was gonna propose to you….. he already bought a RING!!!!

You were gonna be Mrs. Bakugo!

I guess you were still giggling to yourself and laying down on your back when he came out of them bathroom.

“Yea I’m convinced you’ve actually lost your mind. Sitting there smiling and laughing like a psycho.”

Before you could get up, his damp form was hovering over you.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but I gotta thing for crazy chicks.” He has the biggest, sexiest smirk on his face.

“Oh yea… well you’re in luck hot stuff.”

*Ummmmmm… this is sooooo long. But I wanna do a smutty part 2. Cuz he’s nice now but Kats does not take well to you down playing how amazing you are.

Katsuki Masterlist

[felassan]

From Game Informer:

Solas plays an important role in the game as a central figure and significant character, but the game is not about Solas, hence the title change

Rather than focusing on a specific individual, the focus and centerpiece of the game is Rook's team, stopping the end of the world with this group of specialists

"I think you could argue [these companions] are the best the franchise has ever seen". We will have the opportunity to interact with them in a way that both shapes their story and also influences the main story, including having the opportunity to impact their fate

"Arguably, this game has kind of, in a way, been called Dreadwolf to some degree since its earlier days"

Excerpt:

"When I ask about Solas' role in the story after I learn his namesake is no longer in the game title, Darrah says Veilguard is still taking the Elven God's narrative in a good direction. He adds, "It allows us to, hopefully, give a good conclusion to all the varied attitudes toward Solas that are going to be coming from people who love Solas, who agree with Solas, who hate Solas, people who want to kick Solas off of a building – I think that we give you the opportunity to bring that to a close, but then tell a greater story about The Veilguard and about the world as a whole." Talking to Epler, I learn more about how Solas isn't exactly the big bad I expected before seeing the opening hours of Veilguard. There's a lot more nuance to everyone's favorite bald elf.  "The most interesting villains to myself, and honestly most people, are not just straight up, 'I want to end the world.' To them, they are the heroes of the story, and Solas is no exception," Epler tells me. "Solas always feels that he is a tragic hero but a hero nonetheless, so he's coming into this believing firmly that what he did, that which you stopped him from doing, was the right thing – that you made a mistake. But now he's trapped and can't reach out and actively affect [Thedas], so he needs to work with you. "That allows us to provide a lot of nuance to that relationship," Epler says."

Solas is literally trapped in the Fade after the game's prologue. Rook and co stop his attempt to destroy the Veil. Rook passes out and wakes up in a dream-like landscape to Solas' voice. He explains that he was trying to move Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain to a new prison because the old one wasn't containing them properly anymore. The two blighted gods are now free and roaming Thedas. Rook has to stop them, but it seems that they will have to work with Solas ("or at least listen to his guidance and advice") to do so

Excerpt:

""So one of the principles we took to when we were building the story of The Veilguard early on was we wanted the beginning of the game to feel like the final chapter of an earlier story and you're coming in right at the end, you're coming in as if you've been chasing Solas – the [Solas at the end of Dragon Age: Inquisition's Trespasser DLC] who said he was going to end the world and tear down the Veil," Epler adds.  Epler says players will see early on (and as the narrative develops across Veilguard) that Solas sees much of himself in you, the player-controlled Rook, especially "the parts that maybe he doesn't like to face." As a result, there's an interesting push and pull between Solas and Rook. He says players can define the relationship between these two characters with their choices in dialogue.  "You can continue to be suspicious and hostile towards him, or you can start to see him and find that common ground, that connection between the two of you, and really develop a different relationship over the course of the story," Epler says."

[source]

[depresssant]

thinking about a venom!reader in the MHA world...

ok i got very carried away with the dabi part but ykyk. uh two are platonic yan and the other is romantic. but basically, i was thinking about a quirkless reader who becomes the host for venom in the mha world. how cool would that be?

maybe i'll do a deadpool one as well, but i love venom too much atm.

⏤ venom!reader: you're just a quirkless reporter with a dark past. you work⏤well, worked for a news channel diligently, making sure to bring justice if not through a quirk, then through a camera. that is, until you investigate a company accused of trafficking quirkless civilians to test for quirk development. however, the chairman of the company doesn't take kindly to your intrusion and has you fired.

⏤ venom!reader: you sneak into the company's lab with the help of one of the chairman's closest scientists. you stumble across an alien, symbiote, from a whole different planet. this symbiote picks you as its host and you now have a literal parasite feeding off of you. the chairman is ecstatic since none other hosts have lived as long a you, so he sends men to capture you but venom is having none of it.

⏤ venom!reader: you escape from the chairman's men while accidentally getting your boyfriend, soon-to-be fiancé murdered in the process. you swear to get revenge, and the hero commission is more than willing to turn you into a hero if it means using you to push their agendas.

⏤ venom!reader: you accept despite knowing this won't end well. your mind is on revenge and revenge only. you want to murder the chairman, but for now, you have to bide your time. you're paired with the pro hero hawks, and he wants to be your friend so damn bad. you're assigned as an apprentice under the number one hero and decide to use these people to help you with your revenge.

— venom!reader: you're able to charm everyone with a charismatic personality. okay. that was a lie. you're brash, reckless, and stubborn, but perhaps that's something the number one hero's masterpiece loves about you. you're like... the wild older sister that's always bringing chaos to the family. you take shoto todoroki out on outings when you're not working yourself to the bone, and it warms his icy heart. you return to his home bloody and bruised up after a long day of fighting villains, and the first thing on your mind is to help him with his homework? the way you look after him is so domestic and familial.

— venom!reader: you make shoto want to keep you in his home forever, away from harm's way. you're destined to be his older sister, and there's no way you can be anything else, right? he doesn't know you don't really care about him. you just treat shoto todoroki well to get on his father's good side. but he finds out your true feelings the night you spend rambling off in a drunken haze to fuyumi, who may as well be as wasted as you. you and her talk about one day moving and leaving everything behind, and shoto can feel his entire world fall apart. no. no. no. no. you and fuyumi are his older sisters! you're supposed to love and care for him. nothing more! your jobs have gotten into your heads too much! he can't let either of you leave. no. he won't let either of you leave. you've become shoto's lifeline, and he'll die of you disappear.

— venom!reader: if you aren't hunting down the people on your list at night, you spend the day doing the commission's dirty work. your partner, hawks, who aides you with your work, isn't the most tolerable person to be around, but he pays for your food every time the two of you go out, so you're not too keen on dropping him just yet. his constant remarks about how you should be his apprentice instead of endeavor's are a bit annoying, but you brush them off. the heroes working directly for the commission are all fucked up in some sense. you would know since you've worked for them, and your old partner form the old days is no exception. he shows you off to the media as his best friend, but just because the two of you hung out so much back when you were younger doesn't make you friends. at least in your eyes.

— venom!reader: you don't see the maniacal glint in hawks's eyes when he looks at you. he looks at you as if you're the entire world, but you don't even spare him a single glance. why? why do you not smile at him like you used to? why do you keep a distance from him? why? why do you hate him? why won't you just LOOK at him? why? why? why?

— venom!reader: weeks after the grand chase between you and the corporation's men, you're still left with a terrible reputation. you work as a hero, but the people view you as a villain, and your symbiote doesn't really help in fixing your tarnished reputation. so many people died because of the chase. you seem like such a villain. would it be surprising if you tried to join the league of villains? you join hawks as a mule in the l.o.v after much conviction, and none of the villains unsettle you as much as that guy, dabi.

— venom!reader: dabi's gaze unsettles you. it feels like he's picking you apart with his haunting sickness that has you questioning how good of an actor you are. he's clearly done his research on you when he asks about your apprenticeship under endeavor and how you live with the man. there's distaste in his tone not for just the todoroki family, but you too. the two of you fight a minute into the conversation, and you evade him so quickly, he's quite embarrassed. the two of you are forced to partner up multiple times, and it's the usual mean and snarky banter that has both of you wishing death upon the other.

— venom!reader: walking in on blood running from his eyes, you offer him your help to which he denies quite harshly. but you're adamant on gaining the trust of the league, and dabi's too tired to deal with you so he lays back on the couch and lets you clean up all the open wounds he's got. touch makes him disgusted. it has him wanting to hurl and scrub away at his skin till it bleeds all over again. but you're touch... isn't so bad. you handle him with care, something dabi thinks he's never felt before, and even though he feels that similar nausea creep up his throat, he can still let your hands ghost over his stables and open wounds.

— venom!reader: you're able to read him like an open book, and dabi hates it so damn much. he hates your sarcastic remarks. he hates your brash and reckless behavior. he hates how you treat him with such gentle care. like... like you actually care about him. it reminds him of fuyumi. he misses her. you're like her. then, he sees you get a call from that brat—that "masterpiece"—and dabi's blood boils a fury. you talk to that twerp with a tone full of care and understanding. why won't you talk to him like that? why is his puny little brother able to call you older sister? why do you smile at his words? you're supposed to smile at him. let him be your brother. damn it, the scarred villain will do anything if it means taking away everything endeavor and his damned masterpiece love. but you? endeavor doesn't matter at all. he just wants to see you call him brother. once. just once. though, dabi knows he'll lose it if you give into that wishful thinking.

⏤ venom!reader: you don't realize just how horrifying of a situation you've found yourself into until you are gifted the dead body of your next target with the name of the villain that killed the person carved on their back. there's eyes always on you, and red feathers constantly litter around the corners of your apartment. but you brush it off. you know, but you push it aside. your revenge was more important. you're so dedicated to your cause that it starts to take a toll on you physically and mentally.

⏤ venom!reader: you turn more and more villainous as you take away the lives of all the people standing in your path of revenge. you've become a blood-thirsty anti-hero, feeding your parasite human brains and yourself the blood of your enemies. you're getting closer and closer to your goal, but at what cost? the lives of so many that you've lost count? innocent and guilty—you're losing your ability to differentiate. blood, guts, and revenge are the only things on your deranged mind.

⏤ venom!reader: you keeps pushing the brewing situation away until you're running away from the very heroes and villains that are after you. you're like a ghost with how you've disappeared, but it seems like no matter where you run to, you're enamored admirers will always find you.

also, if ya'll are looking for a story with this prompt or premise, i've got the one for you. my book is called venom (link btw) and idk... now that i've gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy ur day.

[i-think-i-have-too-many-fandoms]

(Dilf!Deku x Nanny!Reader is what I think is what this is)

Description ~ Single dad #1 pro Deku’s daughter wakes up and starts crying for “mama”

“MAMA!” Izuku shoots out of bed at the sound of his daughter screaming. He sprints down the hallway of his large apartment to his daughter’s room. He turns on the light to find his daughter with tear stained cheeks reaching out for him. He sits on the edge of her bed and wrapped her in his arms. “What was it babygirl?” Izuku asks his 5 year old daughter. “Nightmare, about you and mama.” That caught him off guard, his daughter had never really had a “mother” she was dropped on Izukus doorstep with a paternity test saying she was his. “What do you mean baby?” He gives her a confused smile. “Mama? Where is she. I wanna see her too, where is mama?” Izukus daughter looks up at him with big ol puppy dog eyes that would make anyone certain she was his. “Who are you talking about bubs?” “Mama! She’s around all the time! Don’t pretend daddy.” Looking into her confused eyes and that’s when it clicked, she was talking about her nanny.

“Are you talking about Y/n? She’s not your mama, baby.” The little girl in his arms makes an ‘oh’ sound and cuddles deeper into him, he knows she's just to tired to argue and frankly he is too. Instead of risking another nightmare leaving her in her own bed he picks up his little girl and goes back to his bedroom. Izuku finds himself unable to sleep, instead thinking about you. In the last few months you’re all that’s been taking up his headspace. Thinking about how good you are with his daughter, and he wishes he could tell you but he couldn’t do that. It’s bad enough how much it aches him to be away from his daughter as much as he is but he refuses to put a partner through that. So he keeps his thoughts to himself, but will continue letting his daughter think you are her mother. The next day when you came by before he left he had told you that his daughter was in his room, and that she’d had a nightmare and to keep an eye on her during nap time and if anything changes to keep him updated. The usual stuff- except when he was saying goodbye and he grabbed the back of your head and kissed your forehead before heading out the door. You froze in your spot and started overthinking, of course you found him attractive but it was more than just his physical appearance, you’ve seemingly fallen for him because of the way he acts towards everyone that works for him, the way he is always there to kiss his daughter goodnight even if he has to go right back to work after, its the way he is exactly what people think he is but so much more. Now, switch to the other side of the door Pro hero Deku was panicking, when he got home tonight you would probably tell him you quit, or you’ll give him some kind of “HR paperwork”.

He shouldn’t have done it, he knows that but it felt so natural as if he’d done it every morning, like it was routine. But he hadn’t, it wasn't, he’d never done it, he’s thought of doing it. Thought about what he’d do if he would actually married you and got to do that every day- but that wasn’t your guys’ dynamic, your dynamic was that he’d tell you what was new with his kid then leave, and you’d message him interesting stuff that happened throughout the day, and when he’d get home you’d be watching something on tv and he’d sit beside you and tell what happened that day and then you would politely say goodbye to him, but this? This is too- too domestic for you two. But before he can retract and go back inside to explain he gets a message from work telling him there’s an emergency. So he has no choice but to go about his day, expecting a text from you about anything, so that maybe he’ll stop overthinking and panicking but you don’t.

And back at the apartment you were hanging out with his daughter and there has been so many things you’ve wanted to send him but you didn’t want it to be weird. So you went through your day, overthinking just as much as he did because, what was that this morning? Did he mean to do it? Did he think it was someone else and he mixed up because of how tired he was from his daughter waking up in the middle of the night? Oh god… of course, he probably thought it was someone else. You went about your day trying to put your best fake smile on for the darling little girl and at times you’d forgotten but then it come rushing back justas quickly as it had left. At some point Izuku had called a friend who had the day off to go relieve you of your duties for the day, but that only made your despair and overanalyzing worse. You had spent half the night confused and worried and mind wandering, until eventually you gave in, put on the closest pair of pajama pants you could and drove yourself to his apartment. You knocked quietly a few times and while waiting you were questioning what you were doing here but then he opened the door of his apartment and you knew.

You know what to say and why you’re here, “what was that?” You almost cringe at the question. “What?” Oh no, he’s confused, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about this was a mistake. And you abruptly say that you’re sorry for bothering and turning around but he grabs your wrist turning you to him. “I don’t actually know what it was” “So it was a mistake?” Damn, that hurt. “No, definitely not, I- would you like to come inside to talk? It’s cold out.” You follow behind and sit beside him on his couch facing him, knees close to touching. “Believe me, I, very much, like you, and if I was normal, living a normal life I would ask you out on a date in a heartbeat. But I will not do that to you, and I am sorry for what happened yesterday morning, if you choose to continue working for me then I can arrange that we will not be in the same area at the same times-“ “I’m not fired?” You interrupt him, severely confused.

He then looks back at you mirroring your expression, "w- why would you be fired? I'm the one who did it, if anything i thought you'd have smacked me with HR "sexual harrasment' papers when i got back but you didn't." You cut him off again because this whole misunderstanding was starting to make your head hurt, "Why would you be in trouble? You sent me home early, i thought you were firing me." You place your head in your hands. Izuku wants so badly to rub your back in comfort but is understandably apprehensive of making the situation weirder. You pause with your head in your in your hands. 'How could you have just glossed over what he'd said?' You lift your head to look him in his beautiful emerald eyes, "You, like me?" You tilt a eyebrow at him. His face turns a bright shade of red as he answers, "i- w-well not- no- but-" He becomes frantic with his wording and as your looking at him avoiding your eyes you take a chance. You reach for his face and pull it to your own so your faces are inches apart. You leave space for him to close in case youve read the signals wrong. Waiting for what seems like forever (it was a few seconds), Izuku places his hands at your waist and presses his lips to yours. Both of your movements are slow and intimate as you press together fluidly. Before it goes too far you both pull away breathlessly admiring one another. "Izuku...would you like to go on a date?" You speak softly still doubting what had just happened. Hesitating to answer he looks at you earnestly, "I don't want my schedule to hurt the people i love."

"I know, and I'm probably one of the only people who will actually understand enough for this to last with us. I know your schedule and i know you. I know that if anything happens it isn't your fault." You keep eye contact with him as you speak. "If this doesn't work out i would never hold it against you." He scrutinizes your face for any hesitancy, and when he doesn't find any he answers your question, "How's Sunday?"

[pinkiemachine]

GOTHAM FILES: SEASON 5

JASON TODD IS ALIVE!!!

Ra’s Al Ghul has brought him back to life and intends to give him back to Bruce as a reconciliation gift. The only thing is, the Lazarus Pit can have… interesting effects on people, especially when bringing them back to life. In Jason’s case, he comes back with a serious case of brain fog, with some slightly psychotic tendencies. Ra’s can’t return Jason like this, so he spends the next few months rehabilitating the boy and training him with the League. He’ll be such a fine warrior, not only will Bruce be getting his protégé back, but he’ll be in better shape than when he died. Little by little, though, Jason is beginning to come back to his senses, his memories return, and he begins to question where he is and what he’s doing. This isn’t right… where’s Bruce? Where’s Alfred? Why isn’t he in Gotham anymore? In a panic, somewhat brought on by the side effects of the Pit, Jason escapes the League of Shadows and winds up totally alone, totally lost in West Asia, trying to get back home. The League of Shadows goes after him, and he has to outrun them any way he can, and after a long, harrowing adventure where he jumps all around Asia, South-East Asia, and Australia, he is finally on the fast track to getting back to the States and Gotham. He’s thrilled to be back home, but the first thing he sees when he looks at the news… is Batman… and a new Robin… saving the city. He heads to the Manor to see for himself and finds Tim Drake sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms. There’s still some Lazarus Madness in his head, so he doesn’t take this so well at first. It gets worse when he realises that Joker is still alive. Batman never avenged him. Cue the events of “Under the Red Hood” where Jason takes down a gang of thugs, takes the identity of their leader, “The Red Hood,” and starts tearing up Gotham, looking for Joker, while simultaneously poking Bruce at every available opportunity. And then, when the truth is finally revealed about who Red Hood is, Ra’s shows up and tries to be all, “Look! I brought Jason back for you! Surprise? Heheh… now come marry my daughter.” And Bruce is like…. “No.” Ra’s warns him, though, that if he doesn’t join him now, he’s going to be in for a few surprises soon. He still refuses. Ra’s slinks off back to the Shadows.

Anyway, the point is, Bruce is confronted by Jason regarding Joker. Jay doesn’t hold a grudge against Bruce for not being able to save him—it was Jason’s own fault that he wound up that situation in the first place—but what he is ticked about is the fact that Joker’s still alive, and, well, to a lesser extent that he’s been kinda replaced, but it’s mostly the Joker thing. But since Jason isn’t Robin anymore, he’s not playing by Batman’s rules. He’s going to do what Batman couldn’t, and be the hero Gotham really needs. He’s going to end the Joker once and for all. Bruce tries to stop him. Killing isn’t the answer. It’s a quick fix, but it’s no guarantee that another Joker won’t pop up tomorrow, and worse… Bruce isn’t prepared to lose what’s left of his humanity. He’s traveling a dark enough path as it is. He refuses to let himself fall further and become the very thing he hates. He doesn’t want that for Jason either. In the end though, due to Bruce and Jason fighting, Joker gets away (he does wind up getting hurt bad enough that he loses sight in one eye, though), and Bruce begs Jason to come home. He’s just so immensely relieved to see him alive! But Jason… he’s not the same kid he was when he went under. He’s not Bruce’s Robin anymore and he still plans on killing Joker. It’s time they parted ways. For good.

So, yeah, the falling out part is real sad… and everyone’s brooding over what happened, and Dick even tries to find and talk to Jason, but that doesn’t help. It looks like Jay’s not ever going to be part of the BatFam again… until this happens:

Jason is rightfully ticked at Bruce, but they can shelve that long conversation for a later date. Right now they’ve gotta MOVE if they want to get Tim home alive. Everyone gets called in, Nightwing, Batgirl, Spoiler, even Starfire shows up, as she and Dick have been dating for a while now. Joker’s come up with a real twisted scheme this time, one that really throws the crew for a loop as they try to figure it all out, and Joker nearly has enough time to psychologically torture Tim (giving the Batman: Beyond film flashbacks!) but before Tim can be all twisted up into mini-Joker, his team arrives and they save him just in the nick of time!

Jason is ultimately the one to grab him, and in a way he confronts his own trauma by sparing Tim from a similar fate. This is how they bond and become one of the closer pairs in the BatFam. Jason really kicked into “Protective Older Brother Mode.”

After that scare, Batman keeps Jason from killing Joker and he’s instead locked up tight in Arkham Asylum. Again. Hopefully this time he won’t break out… hopefully. Now Jason can really chew Bruce out, but the main thing this adventure did was force them all to work together again. And maybe Jason won’t really be too far away from now on. He’s still gonna have his own place and do his own thing, but… he still does care about Bruce… and he does think of Dick and Tim as brothers… and Alfred is the best. Jason will be around.

The season goes on for a bit longer, tackling a few other stories, etc, etc, and then it ends with Dick proposing to Starfire… and Ra’s kidnapping Bruce again, but this time, it’s not to force him to marry Talia… mostly. This time, he’s got something to tell Bruce. There’s someone he needs to meet. His son, Damian Wayne. Way back in season 1, Talia had stolen some… “DNA” from Bruce while he was captured, and they had used it, in conjunction with her own… “DNA” to create Damian. She and Ra’s had been raising him for the past ten years, training him to be the perfect weapon, the perfect leader, and the perfect heir to the throne of the League of Shadows. Now it was time for the next stage in his studies. Talia had taught him just about everything she knew. Now it was Bruce’s turn. Besides, the boy had wanted to meet his father. Ra’s declares that Damian will go live with Bruce for five years, and then return home.

…So, long story short, Bruce winds up back in Gotham on the heels of Dick’s engagement with the ten-year-old son he never knew he had.

These next few years are gonna be fun.

Part 6 👇

Part 4 👇

[often-daydreaming]

Kind of a joke prompt.

I've read countless prompts and fics talking about how the Anti-Ecto Acts affect Danny, Dani, Dan, the heroes, etc, but what if it was just a random bunch of people coming up with a work around in order to finally get rid of a lot the supervillains that were protected by the law.

Like Ben (I don't know why I came up with Ben for this) and a couple of his friends start talking about how certain supervillains can get away with just about anything only to get a few months in prison when one of them brings up the Fentons who are one step away from being mad scientists. Anybody who ever went to school with them is bound to bring them up at least once but they get brought up and eventually everyone ends up joking about how many heroes have 'come back from the dead' since the everyday civilian would probably think they were on a vacation or doing some sort of undercover work whenever they aren't seen out in public for a while. Ben adds on to the idea by bringing up how many supervillains have come back from the dead and it kind of snowballs from there until it finally gets to the dumbest idea any of them have ever had.

How would you kill a ghost, zombie, whatever?

What would someone like the Joker even be considered since he's apparently died on a number of different occasions and is somehow so insane nobody can give him the death penalty. Wait... What was that about the Fentons... Their research... Huh??? Let me see that for a second... That could work... It could actually work. We just have to word it the right way, maybe make up a couple of things to make it sound scary but it could work.

It doesn't even have to be about the Joker. With the number of enemies Luthor has you can't tell me there isn't at least one rich person willing to jump on the chance of legally having a way to get rid of him for good. Cause he's faked his death before, been dying only to transfer his consciousness into a clone body and probably pulled off even more crazy things I don't know about and this insane idea might be just the thing they'd need to finally get rid of him since he'd no longer have any rights if the Anti-Ecto Acts pass.

But then they start hearing about a supposed ghost kid and what's this about a hunter in a mech suit and a biker with a sentient shadow. Obviously he's just a meta. The mech suit guy simply had way too much time on his hands and the biker has to be magic. Just look at the baby hero and his rogue gallery roughing each other up but the Fentons are screaming about ghosts again, they're even on the local news now so we have to double down on everything if we want this to work. Quick, grab a couple of guys and go act like Team Rocket until we've handled things over here. You're O, that's Q. He can be Z if he wants. I don't really care who does what just shove the alien squid whatever back into the portal before a Green Lantern shows up complaining about some sort of space law we've probably broke then go around telling everyone you destroyed it or something. They can't prove we didn't.

Remember, we're supposed to be the 'bad guys' people.

[azure-cherie]

PAC : Messages from your throat chakra

Throat chakra is the chakra or energy center present at the neck region of our body , governs mostly speaking skills , in this PAC i intuitively channel messages from your throat chakra , use your intuition to choose one pile or multiple and take what resonates. Feedbacks are so helpful . Thank you so much for the love and support .

Masterlist

Let's get into it : ⬇️

Pile 1 :

Believe in your prophecies and what you speak , get it done when you give your word to someone your mercury and jupiter/sun must have some aspects , your voice flows like honey gazing at the stars . You are very good at convincing people giving them support and the motivation they need , you're someone whom everyone needs but who speaks for you ? Isn't that what you wonder now and then well my dear I believe my hero has forgotten the weapon all along has been you and your existence use it , fear not the charisma of your own voice let it shine speak more keep more of your mind . Specifically consume butterfly pea tea , some of you might be shiv Bhakts or might have liking towards knowing more about poisons . Quite the kind you are :)

Pile 2 :

I'm sorry love but you don't speak for yourself at all , I know the pressure is heavy and I know it feels as if you cannot breathe but trust me one who doesn't speak for themselves do the biggest crimes to themselves you cannot bear the allegations of you being scared , so be not it !!!!!! If you have a friend who does speak for you in such situations be grateful to them offer them food and thank them , they will be so happy with your gratefulness. Speak against your mother in law . Foster children or children in general who are going to pursue a career they're not a fond of might be in this pile, you need to talk, write down your points in a diary , speak your mind , you need some yoga more than food , you might experience stuttering , try out some mudras. Take care I so believe in you

Pile 3 :

Your throat might be perfect or a little overactive if overactive you might experience you saying wrong things at the wrong times, highs and lows like insulting someone and feeling so bad you cannot sleep. Not being able to talk when In shock mode . It's a defense against people who underestimated you , journal more. You're gonna be great

The other lot of people have a well balanced chakra one way to understand that would be pronunciation when learning new languages are you getting that easily if yes you're at the right Pile , you need not worry much. Your favourite colour might be blue or purple , i get that some of you might be Gryffindor (Harry Potter) . You need to always speak softly to your mom alright . I'm proud of you.

Pile 4 :

Your energy is quite non chalanant more like speak first think later kind , what I find funny is you guys are never too caught for your mischief , very witty Hermes kinda energy. I don't think throat chakra demands much attention right now just treat your neighbours right , you're sweet to your family and loved ones and they sweetly root for you all the time. One advice for you tho is to use blue water bottle or blue cutlery , stare at the sky more take swims basically just enjoy summer, you're sure to discover new things about yourself. Now isn't starry night by Van Gogh one of your fav painting ? Love love

Thank u so much for reading love love