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carpenterswife · 7 months ago

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HALF OF ME (i)

SUMMARY: Despite appearances, you’d learnt Soldier Boy was, actually, capable of being a good man. Somehow, you’d wormed yourself into his good books, and had the rarest privilege of seeing him without the suit, the drugs, the ego, the everything. Just as things were going good, his heart somehow getting even warmer for you, the world separates you in the cruelest way.

PAIRING: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3573

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Sexism (set in the 1980’s), typical Soldier Boy behaviour, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, questionable morals (peer pressuring drug use), sexual content, eludes to smut, Soldier Boy may be a bit OOC at times, gore.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Becoming a world famous supe was never something you’d ever wanted. Sure, you’d grown up with their photos on your bedroom walls, your father telling you stories of when the first ever supe came to be, insisting he fought alongside the Soldier Boy in the war

The people around you seemed to idolise them. These… mostly regular people in tight suits, pretending to be better than everyone else.

You knew better. You knew enough. Enough to know supes were dirty, and corrupt, and definitely not the heroes they presented themselves to be. That their hands were more blood than they were skin anymore.

And, frankly, you wanted nothing to do with Vought or Payback — or whatever the fuck those shitty, useless superhero teams were called. (Seriously, what did they actually do? Except sit in their pretty tower and take the peoples’ taxes?)

Your father, however, had different ideas.

So, at 18, you woke up in the hospital, after an ugly head collision, with superpowers you’d never had before. A miracle, the doctors called it, a supe whose extraordinary powers had been hidden for her whole life. When you got home, you forced the truth out of your father. Compound V, he called it, a new chemical made by Vought.

No one was born a supe, he admitted, it all came from a liquid in a vial. The truth hurt you, as much as it didn’t really surprise you. Chosen by God, my ass.

This wasn’t supposed to be your life.

But it’s certainly what it turned out to be.

Payback were as shitty, if not more, than you’d originally thought. Each of them had… many flaws. Soldier Boy, obviously, was the worst. If the Devil reincarnated himself, he’d look and act like Soldier Boy.

Simply talking to the man made you want to shoot yourself.

Well… it did at one point.

Two years down the line, things had changed. Soldier Boy was still insufferable, sexist, arrogant, and a major asshole. But… he wasn’t so much a dick directly to you, as he used to be. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was actually somewhat nice to you. As much as his macho heart could manage, anyway.

You noticed it the first time when he saved your life on a mission. He’d grabbed your waist when a grenade clinked at your feet, whirling you around and to the ground, squashing you against his firm chest, using his shield to protect you both from the hot blast. He’d shrugged it off as nothing; as something any leader would do for his team. Then you watched him hit Gunpowder about for not following his order to a T, and realised… maybe he did treat you different.

It was undeniable these days.

You were the only person on Payback that Soldier Boy could remotely tolerate.

“You need’a be more careful.” Despite the hard look on his face, Soldier Boy was staring down at you, as a Vought doctor wrapped clean bandages tightly around your midsection. It was a bullet to the wound; which, with being a supe, wouldn’t be too bad, but you didn’t heal inhumanely fast like he did. “You’re fuckin’ useless when you’re hurt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for your concern, Soldier Boy.”

His eyes narrowed into a harsh glare. “Ben.” He corrected you, for what was probably the 50th time. Each time he did, he got more annoyed with you. “How many times do I have to say it? Is there a brain in that pretty head’a’yours?“

You grunted, spinning on the bed and hanging your legs off the side of it. “Thanks for the compliment.” Ben rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, not offering a hand as you groaned in discomfort and got to your feet. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be healed up by the time we set off for Nicaragua, if that’s what you’re worried ‘bout.”

Ben just grunted, displeased. “Ain’t happenin’.” He immediately shot that idea down. “We leave for Nicaragua in two weeks. You ain’t comin’. Sit this one out.”

You stared, expecting a joke. Clearly, he wasn’t. “Seriously?” You groaned, unhappy. What was it with this guy? “I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little bullet.”

“I was holdin’ your fuckin’ guts in your body.” He walked away, reminding you of just how bad your injury actually had been. He had, indeed, practically been keeping your guts inside of you as you bled out. “You ain’t going. You’re stayin’ here.” You chased after him, pulling your shirt on as you left the infirmary.

“Ben—“

He whirled around to face you. “I said, you’re fucking staying.” He growled, glaring down at you. God, were you glad you were on his side. This man was terrifying. Six feet of pure muscle, strength and violence. “You’re better off here, using that face of yours to get some PR.”

“And, what? The others will back you up?” You scoffed, grabbing his wrist as he went to walk away again. His expression went cold at your touch, but you didn’t flinch. As much as he tried to scare you, Ben wouldn’t raise a hand at you… probably. You had faith in the man. “They can’t fight for shit, Ben. Gunpowder hasn’t even discovered his own dick yet. You think you’re gonna have your back covered out there?”

He ripped his wrist away harshly. “I don’t need my back covered.”

“Everyone needs their back covered.” You argued. “Even you.”

He chuckled, sarcastic and dry. “You worried ‘bout me, princess?” You gave him a ‘seriously?’ look, as he took a step closer, mouth curled into that ever-infuriating smirk. “I’d perform better if you sent me off with a taste of that—“

“Ben.” You interrupted him, unimpressed. You rolled his eyes at his predictable behaviour. “I’m not gonna fuck morale into you.”

“Shame.” His eyes flicked up and down, tracing the curves of your body. “Bet you’d be a firecracker.” He walked away again, and you threw your hands up, groaning. Ben chuckled as he turned the corner. “Think it over, sweetheart.”

“You’ve got a hand.” You called back to him. “Use it!”

Conversations like that were very common with Ben.

It’d be a normal conversation (as normal as it gets with him) — and then he’d start talking about fucking you against the nearest surface, and all pleasantries went down the drain. Seriously, he thought 80% with his dick, and 20% with his actual brain.

And that was being kind.

But, beneath all of his macho assholery, was his genuine worry. You knew he wasn’t letting you accompany the rest of the team to Nicaragua because of your injury, despite how minor it was, and that he was worried you’d injure yourself further.

You’d never slept with Ben, despite how much he’d tried to charm you into his bed. Your relationship was strange. He flirted, you flirted — there were lingering touches. And, sure, he’d never put his dick in you, but his fingers were a different question. And… oh, boy, could that man use his hands.

It was like being in a relationship, just without the sex. Which was odd, as it was Soldier Boy. But, the way he smiled at you and treated you, it made you feel different to the other women.

He was just… shit it showing it.

Poor bastard wouldn’t know emotion if it slapped him in the face.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

“I am not wearing this.”

Okay… scratch all of that. Maybe Ben was just a dickhead.

He lounged back in his chair, grinning lazily, legs spread like he owned the place. He probably thought he did. “Why not?” He took a sip of his whiskey, ice clinking against the sides, eyes never leaving you from over the rim of the glass.

You held up the fabric. “Seriously?”

It was basically a scrap of fabric, with how much it covered up. You didn’t shy away from showing skin. You quite liked short skirts and pushing the line. Because, as a supe, there was a line. Vought liked it when you showed skin — apparently it made your ratings go up with the male fans, no shocker. But, too much skin on display, the male fans started calling you a whore, and the ratings shot back down.

It was a bit like a balancing game, trying to find the perfect amount of skin to make the boys ogle but also respect you. An impossible feat, truthfully.

And this? This was definitely classed as too much.

“I don’t see the issue.” His smirk said otherwise.

“My tits are not gonna stay in this, Ben!”

His smirk just grew. “Again, I don’t see the issue.”

You groaned and put the dress down. “No. I’ll get my own dress. I am not wearing that.” You tell him, arms folding across your chest. You didn’t miss the way he checked out your tits, and the way the placement of your arms accentuated them.

He rolled his eyes, obviously not happy with your decision. Leaning towards, elbows on his knees, Ben’s eyes took you in. “Why?” His head cocked to the side. “You’d look hot. It’d make your ass look great.”

“That’s not a compliment.” You grumbled, pushing a hand through your hair. Ben made a small grunt of disagreement, but didn’t say anything otherwise. “Listen, there’s a certain line. Alright? If I wear that, every guy out there will be callin’ me a whore. Okay? Imma find something else.”

He hummed and sat back. “I think you should wear that one.” Sighing heavily, you just rolled your eyes at his persistence. “All those assholes will be blowin’ their pants just lookin’ at you, sweetheart.”

“Again, not a compliment.”

Ben stared at you, and silently took another sip of his whiskey. He always seemed to think these crude, rather sexist and inappropriate remarks were compliments. Like commenting on your body. Or saying you’d be a freak in bed. Which were obviously not actually compliments.

You rolled your eyes, rubbing your forehead. “I’ll find another dress, Ben.” You told him, definitive. There was no way he was going to convince you to wear that dress.

“What a disappointment.” He grinned, lopsided. “I was lookin’ forward to seein’ you in that dress.”

“Again,” you deadpanned as he checked you out once more, “you have a hand… use it.”

Ben just smirked, and sipped his whiskey again.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You wore the fucking dress.

The asshole always won. Always.

He looked so fucking pleased, as you walked into his after-party, wearing the dress he’d picked out for you. His smugness was clear, brushing through the crowd with ease to come to you.

Ben hummed, eyes dilating as he stared you down. His eyes lingered on your tits, as they always did. “You look…” he hesitated, trying to think of a compliment that wasn’t degrading, and failed, “fuckin’ hot. If you weren’t such a bitch, I’d bend you over right here.”

Your face pulled together in disgust, looking at him with your lips pressed together “… gross.”

He chuckled. “Drink?” He offered. “I got your favourite.”

And there he goes again.

Being nice.

It did your damn head in.

Accepting his offer, you shivered as his large hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. They all seemed to part like the Red Sea as he came through, a fact that amused you greatly.

Seriously. These women looked at him like he was Jesus reincarnated, when he’d totally call them in a whore in bed.

Ben silently reached out for your favourite alcoholic drink, pouring it into a glass. His eyes scanned over the room, smirking at a few of the women ogling, sending them rushing to their friends and squealing. He merely chuckled and handed you the full glass.

“Thanks.” You murmured, taking it from him. Your eyes stared up at him for a moment, curious, before looking away again.

What was it with him? How could be such an egotistical one minute, and then be nice and respectful the next? It was like a guessing game, trying to figure out what mood he was in.

He grabbed your wrist, his grip firm, but not enough to hurt you. “Come with me.” He guided you through the crowd once again, to the doors in the back. As he pushed through into the room, he flashed you a cocky grin over his shoulder. Dickhead.

This room was far quieter. You noticed, immediately, the only people present were supes and celebrities, not the random civilians that’d been granted a pity invite — or the women Ben thought were hot. This was the main party. There were drugs covering every table, with various big names passed out on the chairs, blazed.

Ben lead you to the corner, where he’d obviously already been busy, if the half-snorted lines of cocaine proved anything.

Silently, he offered you a line, which you gratefully accepted.

You didn’t do drugs before you joined Payback. In fact, you’d avoided them, promising yourself you’d never become that type of person. But it was the norm within Vought. Every supe spent their nights filling their bodies to the brim with various drugs, poisoning themselves. So, you started smoking weed to fit in.

Then Ben found out you only did weed, and decided it wasn’t enough. With enough pressure, he’d gotten you onto any other substance he could convince you to try.

It made you more attractive, in his eyes, as you spiralled into addiction like him.

In fact, it got him rock hard, to snort lines or share a joint with you. It was so fucking hot, watching your eyes glass over as you got higher with every hit, with every line. God, it turned him on so bad.

You snorted your third line of the night, when Ben suddenly pushed you back into your chair. Bewildered, you stared at him, as he snatched up a baggie of the white powder. Your heart leapt to your throat, the moment he moved aside the slit in your dress, revealing the bare skin of your thigh. All breath left your lungs, watching him pour some of the powder onto your thigh.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He was about to do a line off you.

He glanced at you through his lashes, smirking at the shocked and flushed expression you wore. He used his pocket knife to cut the lines, mindful of the sharp blade against your soft skin.

God, this was hot. He found it hot. You found it hot. It’d be a damn miracle if you ended the night with your clothes on at this point.

Your skin tingled as he sniffed up the first line, of his hands roughly gripping the top of your thigh to steady you, his other holding a rolled up $100 bill. He groaned in pleasure, body physically shuddering, head shaking, as the drug made his body run hot.

He did the next line, the grip on your thigh becoming tighter as his pupils began to blow up.

Was it getting hot in here? Or was it just you?

Maybe it was the cocaine in your systems, maybe it was the fact Ben was just… so damn hot, but you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his hair and forcing his head up as he snorted the final line off your thigh.

He looked up at you, pupils blown, lips parted. Holy shit. This man was sculpted like a fucking God. Your body shivered. “You finally takin’ my offer, sweetheart?” He chuckled, shaking off the immediate effects of the cocaine, raising himself up to your level.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, breathless, practically begging him.

His eyes went dark, almost black, with lust. The smirk on his lips made you squeeze your legs together. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You now understood the hype. You understood why women bent their knees the moment Ben uttered a word to them.

Holy shit, did this man have talent.

Your legs were still twitching, the space in between your legs throbbing and tingling with how many times you’d come on his fingers, his tongue and cock. You’d counted four, before your vision had gone white.

Jesus, he had stamina. A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it’d been just over five hours since you’d first fell into Ben’s bed. That super strength was better for more than just fighting, after all. This man should be advertised for his abilities. No shocker he was an American sex symbol.

He’d just fucked your brains out.

And now, he was staring at you with admiration, laid on his side, in the same bed he’d just railed you in. “You feelin’ okay?” He murmured, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah.” You rolled over to face him, a jolt of discomfort and pain in your hips and thighs. You might have to hold back on… doing anything for the next few days, however. “You didn’t break anything.” You joked, soft and breathy.

He chuckled quietly, hand sliding around your waist and dragging you closer to him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.” He whispered, uncharacteristically soft and gentle.

“To fuck me senseless?”

He smirked. “Mm, I have dreamt of that.” Your eyes narrowed in mild disgust at the image of him having wet dreams about you, swatting his chest. He grinned and caught your hand. “No… I meant how long I’ve waited to have you. You’re fuckin’ perfect. Not just your body. Everything about you is so sexy.”

Your brows furrowed, squeezing his hand, and then worming your fingers out of his. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.

He seemed to struggle for a moment. He wet his tongue with his lips, making your body tingle again. Jesus. “Let’s get dinner.”

What.

“Me and you.” Ben smiled, tracing the curves of your body with a featherlight touch. “Real fancy. I’ll pay.” Was he… asking you on a date right now? The Soldier Boy, asking you on a date? Instead of fucking you and tossing you out?

“You’re serious?” You asked softly, surprised. When he nodded, you grinned, biting your lip to contain it. “Okay, Ben. Let’s get dinner.”

His eyes lit up. Ducking his head down, his lips touched yours, gentle and affectionate. His kiss spoke so many words; his hands gently cradling your body, as he kissed you like you were made of glass. The touch was intimate and loving, widely different to the one he’d used when he’d been on top of you.

No, this was completely different. This was him being vulnerable. This was him showing you just how he felt, without the words.

He smiled against your lips and pulled back, just enough to speak, but his words were still brushing yours. “Yeah?” He whispered, in response to your agreement.

“Yeah.” You stared at him with big eyes.

He grinned, almost boyish in its nature. He stared at you in adoration, seeming to be collecting the words on the tip of his tongue.

You giggled under his stare. You sat up, pulling him with you, grabbing the blanket that he had draped over his headboard. It was fluffy and warm, and smelt like his cologne, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap it around your shoulders, cocooning yourself.

If possible, his gaze softened even more. “You’re adorable.”

Quietly, you laughed. “You sure you wanna do this, Ben?” You stared back at him. Ben was nothing if not a womaniser. Settling down was nothing like him. “Get serious with me, I mean.”

“You’re the only one I’d ever want to.”

Your brows pulled together, confused. “Why?”

Ben soothed a hand through your hair, green eyes drinking in the perfections and imperfections on your face. “You’re the only one I trust.” His voice was gravelly, still heavy with the effects of your recent endeavours. His hand travelled through your hair, and then came down to cup your cheek.

Wrapped up in his fluffy blanket, your head rested on the wooden headboard. “I trust you, too.” You whispered, tilting your head into his palm. His skin was rough, painted with callouses and scars. Every scar on his body had a story. And you’d spend the rest of your life learning every single one.

Despite himself, he smiled at you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’d kill for you. You know that?” His words made you shiver. Ben killing people wasn’t exactly new… or surprising. But doing it for you? God, it made your stomach heat up — and other parts. “These assholes don’t hold a candle to you, doll. Countess? That whore is— is repulsive compared to you.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Ben.” You scolded quietly, though not with an ounce of anger.

The supe just smirked, chuckling deep in his throat. “You want me to drop that bullshit PR relationship I have with her? I’ll do it. In a fucking heartbeat. I’ll be with you, publicly, if you want me.”

“You’d ruin your reputation for me?” Now that — that meant something. Ben could say anything and everything; he was a master manipulator. He could get anything he wanted with that smile and his suave words. But, if there was one thing he would always prioritise, it was his reputation. He’d do anything to be the alpha male. Anything.

“I’d do anything for you.” He grabbed your hand within his much larger one, guiding it to his chest. He pressed your palm over his heart, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. “I’ll do anything for you, to be with you.” You felt the steady rhythm of his heart. He wasn’t lying. That, or he was a great fucking liar. “I’m never leaving your side. I’m yours.”

Your eyes searched deep within his. “Always?”

Ben smiled. “Always.” He leant forward, gently pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

Three months later, Soldier Boy died in a nuclear meltdown.

A/N: jesus christ this took me so long to write 😭 but i’m so happy with how this first chap turned out. it’s gonna get so much more fun to write we get to the action 👀 pls lmk if there’s any mistakes, as i will go back n fix them !!! hope you enjoyed <3

banners by @cafekitsune

TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys tv #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #half of me

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cherryredstars · 2 months ago

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Cherry, I’ve always wanted to say this to you… You. Are. Amazing! I seriously can't get enough of your work!

How about this? Reader is a TV host that bashes on Spider-Man. However it is just a job to her and doesn’t believe in the things she rants about. Anyway, one day reader is caught in the middle of one of Spider’s Man foes and our favorite grumpy spider saves her. Though he is extremely rude to her when she tries to thank him (what else is new?). Reader has to convince him that she doesn’t hate him (the opposite in fact) and decides to show him her appreciation.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Thigh Riding, A Little Electricity(??)

A/N: Thank you, lovie!! Enjoy!

Unedited

The world must hate you.

The stiffness in the air is haunting as the burly hero trails behind you, making sure you don’t make more trouble. You weren’t exactly looking for it, it just came to you. How were you supposed to know actively looking for one of the biggest criminals in the past few weeks for a story could be dangerous?

Okay, maybe he had a point.

You sigh, trying to subtly glance over your shoulder. Even through his mask, you can see the grimace he directs at you, pixels slightly distorting. You thin your lips, rubbing your arm. Great, even Spiderman is after you.

“Um,” you start, turning to face him. He crosses his arms over his chest and you try not to let your eyes linger on how it tightens his suit. “My house is just around the block, I’ll be fine from here.”

He doesn’t move, continuing to stare down at you like you’re a child. You gulp, balancing on the balls of your shoes before slowly turning around and walking forward with a dragged out whisper of okay. You lead him down the block until you stop in front of the entrance to your apartment complex.

You face him once again, putting on an awkward smile.

“Thank you for, uh, escorting me home.” The hero says nothing, looking over you for any injuries before starting to turn around.

Your hand rushes out, electricity pulsing under your fingers for just a second as you grab his arm before he shakes you off.

“I don’t mean those things.” You rush out, suddenly desperate to clear the air with your favorite hero. “I-it’s a job. Just a job.”

You can hear the small scoff he lets out from under his mask, something in you deflating slightly. You open your mouth again, but no words come to mind to reassure him. You clamp your mouth shut, a stupid idea coming to you. You reach out, grabbing his arm again and turn him to face you. You’re quick as you lean up and press a hard kiss to his mask, your lips tingling from the buzzing technology. Instinctively, Miguel grabs at your waist to steady you on your toes, a low grunt leaving him.

You pull away, clearing your throat. Embarrassment flushes your skin and you sharply turn away. You really are stupid or something. “Good night.”

You stalk towards the entrance door, body moving like a robot as you avoid the burning gaze at your back. You open the door, turning when you feel hot electricity directly behind you. Your eyes stay on his chest, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“I’ll walk you to your door.”

What he really meant was, I’ll follow you through the door and proceed to fuck you against it.

You let out a soft moan as he presses you against the wall, pressing a suited thigh between your legs as he guides you up and down it. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, digging in so strongly that the suit glows white under them. You can feel his lips at your skin, mouthing and sucking on the delicate curve of your neck. Your pencil skirt has folded up to your waist, leaving only your panties to protect your aching clit from the subtle buzz and zaps of his suit as he grinds you on him.

You throw your head back, a whimper leaving you from the harsh hold he has on your hips. You can tell he’s trying to get you off quickly, probably in a rush to get back on the streets and protect the rest of the city. But right now, he’s here, in your apartment with his sharp fangs teasingly dragging against your skin.

You wonder if he can feel the wetness of your parties through his suit, if he is able to smell the pure arousal wafting from you as you buck your hips against his thigh with heavy moans. You try to look down at his face, only to see the bottom half revealed so he can mouth at you. You whine in disappointment, even though the rational part of your brain understands why he won’t reveal his full identity.

He seems to smirk at the nose, flexing his thigh and making you gasp as your clothed cunt runs over the corded muscle. A small curse flutters from your lips as another pleasant flicker of electricity runs over your clit, your orgasm just over the horizon.

Miguel speeds up his movements, making you grind faster against his leg until he’s sure you’re about to glitch out his suit from how hard you grab onto him. You come with a strangled cry, cunt fluttering against his suit as his teeth give a small nip to your neck. The tiniest dose of venom hits your skin, but it’s enough to leave your post-orgasm state limp. You slump against him, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure and his suit. He ever so gently moves you to the couch, laying you down as his mask fully obscures his face again. You’re left to drowsily stare at him as he approaches your window, opening it before disappearing into the night.

What a way to thank your heroes.

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librarygarten · 4 months ago

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#2 Chain x Isekai! Reader - You Play Their Games

Part 2 includes Legend, Four, and Wild Slight trigger warning for Wild's part? He grabs your wrist harshly Part 1 ✿ Part 2 (you are here) ✿ Part 3

When you first met the chain, it had quickly come to everyone’s attention that you already knew them. At first, they thought perhaps you had somehow heard tales of them, passed down through the generations. But you knew things about their adventures they hadn’t told anyone. You knew the names of people and places that surely wouldn’t have survived the thousands of years the stories would have taken to reach you.

You tried your best to explain to them how you knew what you did. Thankfully, you had your Switch, which made explaining what a video game was to them a bit easier.

Legend

Oh this is seriously pissing Legend off. He’s glaring daggers at your Switch like it just insulted his entire bloodline. His adventures? Games? Children’s games? It’s disturbing. It’s degrading. His uncle died! Zelda was imprisoned! He had to fight Ganon in the freaking Dark Realm! And that was only his first adventure! You apparently had ALL of his adventures as games on that device. His life wasn’t some cool toy! (He is slightly smug about having the most games of the chain though.)

He knows you’re not the one who made the games. He understands that you had no reason to view his adventures as anything other than some story a person in your world made. But the fact that until recently, you viewed him as a fictional character? That before you met him, you had seen him as a toy? That hurts.

Legend starts avoiding you. When the group walks somewhere, he’ll change his pace to make sure he’s not next to you. When the group settles down for the night, he keeps himself busy rearranging his items. He tries not to make it too obvious, always having a reason ready if someone asks what he’s up to. Eventually, though, the others catch on to his behavior.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

“You know, you can’t avoid them forever.”

Legend looked up from his bag, which he had been reorganizing for the last half hour. Warrior was standing next to him, arms crossed in the “I’m-not-mad-just-disappointed” dad stance. (How he had snuck up on Legend without him hearing was a mystery).

“I’m not avoiding them.”

“Yes you are.”

Legend sighs. He’s not getting out of this conversation, is he?

“It’s just…How are you not bothered? They have all our adventures on a little device. They went on our adventures from the safety of their couch! Do they even see us as people? Are we just a game to them?” Legend snaps his mouth shut. He hadn’t meant to start rambling. Warrior raises an eyebrow, considering the younger hero.

“Go ask to see one of your games. Watch them play for a bit.” Warrior puts up a hand to silence Legend when he begins to protest. “I can’t have you treat a teammate like this. Go.”

Later, Legend begrudgingly found himself sitting next to you. The group had come across a town, so most of the chain was off exploring and gathering supplies. Warrior had practically dragged Legend over to where you were sitting, but you were just happy Legend was finally okay being near you.

“So,” you smile, turning on your Switch “I know Wars is kind of forcing you to do this, but which game do you want to see? There’s A Link to the Past, A Link Between Worlds, Link’s Awakening…”

“Are all my games puns?” he scrunches up his face, cringing at whoever decided on these names. He could guess which pun correlated to each of his adventures, except for one. “What’s Link’s Awakening?”

“Oh! That one’s probably my favorite. It was actually so popular they re-made it a few years ago.” You open the game, and begin moving the game Link around the world.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Legend asks, “Why is my head so freakishly big?”

“It’s not that bad! It’s just the art style! Everyone looks like that. See?” You tap the screen, pointing to another character. Legend recognizes her immediately. Of course. Of course you had Koholint in your device.

“So, how much of my adventure do you see in this game?” Legend asks hesitantly, a blush creeping onto his face.

“From talking to the others, all of the enemies and places are the same,” you explain while moving game Link up a staircase. “But the things you guys say to other people aren't. Links don't talk in games, like, ever.” He nods, and watches as you enter the Wind Fish’s egg. When you finish the final boss fight, you hesitate to walk up the stairs.

“Sorry, I always get a bit emotional at this part.” You give him a half smile, “If I go up the staircase, the Wind Fish will talk, and then the game ends.”

“Isn't that the point?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, but I’ve never liked this game’s ending. It’s… frustrating. And sad.” You throw your hand up, clearly frustrated. “Like, I get that the stupid fish needs to wake up, but what about everyone else? I hate that I can’t get a happy ending for everyone.”

“Why do you care? Isn’t it just a game?” Legend crosses his arms, but his expression softens.

“It is- er… was.” You blush. “I don’t know. Even before I met you guys. Back when I thought none of this was real. I still wanted a happy ending.”

He lets his bangs fall in his face. You can’t see his expression when he talks again.

“I wanted one too.”

Four

(I know Four Swords is on the Switch now, but before that it was so ATROCIOUSLY difficult to play that I had to include The Struggle)

Games? About him? That's… concerning to say the least. It's not that he minds. He's honestly a bit flattered! But also. That means you know about the colors. Which he hasn't really told anyone in the group about.

He's preparing himself for an awkward conversation, but it never comes. Whenever another member of the chain asks about his games, you either only talk about his adventures with the Picori, or go on a half hour long rant about how hard it is to play the games.

Then during one of these rants you mention that Four Swords is your favorite game, and he nearly chokes on his own spit. He had thought you hated it from how much you complain about getting it set up. Something about emulators and linking cables? He doesn’t understand most of what you say, but knowing that he’s your favorite (well, his games are) makes him break out into a huge grin.

He watches you play occasionally, mostly out of curiosity. He usually has other things to be doing, like fixing Wild’s sword. Again. But on the rare occasion he has free time and is feeling especially bored, he’ll watch you.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

Four finds you and Wind buried in a mass of wires. Your Switch, another box, and several smaller devices are scattered around the ground. You curse under your breath as you attempt to untangle the cords and plug them into the box.

“That’s it. I’m out.” Wind gets up and lets the wires that were in his lap fall unceremoniously to the ground . “Four’s adventure can’t be worth this much trouble to see.”

Wind walks away, and Four takes his place next to you.

“So… what is all this?” he asks, picking up a mass of wires and attempting to undo some of the knots.

“This, my friend, is all the equipment needed to play your game.” You say exasperatedly, trying yet again to plug the still-tangled wires into one of the devices.

“Are all your video games this complicated?” Four grimaces at the mess in front of you. He’s inclined to agree with Wind on this one. His adventure can’t be worth this much effort to play through.

“No, just yours.” You scowl and jam the end of one of the cables into one of the devices, hoping it will stay put this time. You have no such luck. “Four Swords is only a multiplayer game, and each person playing needs to own a copy of the game, plus have a way to connect to the other players. Hence… this mess.” You motion tiredly at the pile in front of you.

“Multiplayer?” he tilts his head questioningly.

“It means you can’t play it alone,” you stick out your tongue as you concentrate on finally putting the cords in their proper places. “You need to have multiple players.”

He nods. It makes sense, he guesses, considering how much focus he had to put on teamwork during his adventure with the Four Sword. He watches you try to boot up the game, then curse again as you fiddle with the wires again. Finally, you get it working.

“Sweet!” You clap your hands together, and Four smiles at how happy you seem to finally be able to play his game. To his surprise, you hand him one of the controllers. “Want to play with me?”

“Uhh… What about Wind?” He’s not sure he wants to actually play his adventure. Doing it once was enough, thank you very much.

“He ditched me during setup. Now he doesn’t get to play,” you say. “That’s been the rule at my house since we started playing this game.”

“Seems fair.” Four reluctantly takes the controller. He doesn’t want to seem rude and say no. Then who would you play with? “So, how do I do this?”

“It’s basically just a contest to see who can collect the most gems in the level. Not much story. Fastest wins.” you explain.

“Wait, really?” He's a bit surprised. He was expecting his game to be a bit more complicated. He suddenly doesn’t mind playing so much. “That sounds… really simple.”

“Yeah, it’s an older game, so it doesn’t seem like a lot of your adventure actually transfers over to the game.” You pick up a controller and smile mischievously. “Ready to lose, Smithy?”

“As if!” He grins, matching your enthusiasm. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

Wild

Wild isn't sure what the feeling that's settled in his chest is. He's not thrilled at the idea of you playing games about his adventure. He’s been through a lot, and the idea that it was all just a fun game to someone? It hurts. It’s upsetting. He’s honestly a bit annoyed at you for a while. You also seem to know something he doesn’t? What’s that about? Why won’t you tell him?

He decides that if you won’t answer his questions, he’ll trick you into showing him. He watches you play Breath of the Wild while he cooks, or while the group is walking, or really any chance there’s downtime. He quickly realizes that most of what you do is just run around killing monsters and finding Koroks. Nothing very noteworthy or interesting. Certainly, nothing worth hiding from him.

Then, you let it slip that his games are your favorite, and oooh boy is he smug. For about a day. After the initial ego boost, he realizes you said games. Plural. He’s only seen you play the one, though? What’s that about? He’s not getting answers, and it’s starting to eat at him. Eventually, he just steals your Switch and tries to find out for himself.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

Wild throws the Switch at the ground next to where you’re sitting. You look up and see that he is absolutely fuming. Anything you could have said dies in your throat. Without another word, he storms off.

“What was that about?” Twilight asks, watching Wild walk away. You shrug, completely bewildered, and pick your Switch up off the ground. There’s dirt in the headphone jack, and a corner of the screen is cracked. You turn it on, testing how much damage has been done, and all the color drains from your face.

“Oh.” Is all you can think to say. Tears of the Kingdom is running. It looks like Wild started a new save file on your account. He’s still in the underground area at the beginning of the game, so he must have just finished watching the opening cutscene.

Before Twilight can ask any more questions, you drop your Switch on the ground again, probably cracking the screen even more, and take off sprinting in the direction Wild went.

“Wild? WILD!” You yell into the forest as you run, trying your best to follow which direction you think he might have gone. “WILD!!? LINK?!”

You stumble into a small clearing, and stop dead in your tracks. Wild is furiously swinging his sword at a tree, each strike is less precise than the last. After what feels like hours, but in truth was only a few minutes, he drops the weapon and falls to his knees. His breathing is ragged as his fingers claw into the dirt beneath him.

“Wild?” you whisper his name, tiptoeing to his side. Hesitantly, you kneel down next to him and place your hand on his shoulder.

“You knew.” His hair hides his face from view, but his voice has an edge you’ve never heard before. He sounds ready to murder you, but he doesn’t move from his place on the ground, only digging his fingers deeper into the ground. “You knew I was going to lose everything again. And you didn’t tell me.”

“I…” you gulp. What can you even say? What comfort can you offer? “I was planning to tell you… sometime.”

“Oh! Sometime!” Wild grabs your wrist and his face is suddenly inches from yours, eyes dark with anger. “And just when was this sometime going to be?”

“I don’t know!” You twist your wrist, attempting to escape his crushing grip, but are unsuccessful. “I was trying to figure out a way to tell you! Or to stop it from happening in the first place!”

“Stop it? Just how do you expect to stop that from happening?” Wild releases your wrist and combs his hands roughly into his hair, pushing it away from his face angrily. You take a moment to rub where he had grabbed you. It aches, but there isn’t even a bruise.

“Well,” you speak softly as you stand up, taking a few steps away from him. “I figured, if we ever passed through your time, all ten of us could go wail on him before he even breaks the seal. There is the chance of him escaping and wailing on us instead, though.”

“THAT’S your plan?” He laughs as tears roll down his cheeks. “Sure! Let’s just go in, guns blazing, and all die of gloom poisoning!”

“That’s why I was waiting to tell you!” You throw up your hands. Your words sound louder than you intended them. Are you yelling now? “I have a couple design plans in the works for the Purah Pad and Sheika Slate, depending on which one is available, but none of them are finished yet!”

“Design plans?” Wild’s anger melts off his face, replaced with hesitant hope. “What are you designing?”

“Three words: Weaponized. Spinning. Top.”

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #linked universe + reader #lu x isekai!reader #linked universe x isekai!reader #lu legend #lu legend x reader #lu four #lu four x reader #lu wild #lu wild x reader #totk #botw

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tonyboneysblog · 6 months ago

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MOTHER HEN: PART FOUR

parings: hawks x mother!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: none!

notes: “die Ryuji” we all say in unison while holding hands. (Thought it would be appropriate to post this on Mother’s Day…)

summary: You, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.

It had only been a few days since the villains attacked U.A. high, your son Fumikage said he had something important to tell you.

“Don’t get mad, okay?” Tokoyami says while twirling his fingers together.

“Just tell me Fumikage” you reply with annoyance. you hated it when Fumikage dragged things out, felt like he was about to tell you a family member died but really all he did was accidentally break a plate.

you don’t know why he became like that, he used to just clean it up and go on with his day.

“U.A. is going to have their sports festival, and I was wondering-“

“Already? Didn’t they just get attacked by villains.” You say with a disapproving tone, seriously what was U.A. doing…

“They wanted to prove that this attacked hasn’t affected us.”

“I doubt that’s going to go well.”

showing the villains all of the students skills sets is such an amazing idea U.A.! You thought with sarcasm dripping from it, you didn’t want to say that infront of Fumikage- he likes that school too much.

Fumikage hesitates slightly, “Do you think you be able to see it?”

You sigh. “I’ll have to see my schedule.”

Fumikage looks down in disappointment but tries his best not to show it.

“But hey, I’ll try my absolute best to see my amazing boy win.” You tap his chin, making his eyes face you.

“Promise?” He says quietly.

“Pinkie.” You raise your pinkie finger, Fumikage chuckles and shakes his head.

“You can’t break a pinkie promise, mama.” He interlocks his pinkie with yours.

You smile at him, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Fumi.”

You were glad that Fumikage asked you to watch him at the sports festival, all your friends joke about how he’s just some emo teen who’ll scream at you about how “it’s not a phase!”

you didn’t really care if it wasn’t a phase anyway. You’ll love Fumikage in whatever form he’s in.

Speaking of your friends, they have recently asked you to go clubbing with them on the weekend saying, “you need a break, sweet cheeks.”

You accepted gratefully and as the clubbing day came close Fumikage always came home and told you all about his classmates.

He spoke a lot of one named shoji, you hope with all your heart they become good friends.

When Fumikage was younger his only friend was dark shadow.

you never want to hear him say, “what’s wrong with me, mom?” Just because kids

used to be scared of him and his quirk.

Now it was time to do one of your favorite things ever, but groceries.

You caught Fumikage trying to sneak out of the house and do it himself but you tackled him back into his bed until he gave up.

Grocery shopping was always so calming for you, Fumikage used to come all the time until some old women asked if he was even yours.

sure he had a bird head just like his father but- still super rude!

Putting your groceries into the cart then checking them off your list, you finally made it to your last one.

Chocolate chip Cookie mix.

Fumikage recently said that the cooking hero made one of the best cookies he’s ever eaten and you will never accept that.

Mamas cookies will be better! well when

you can actually grab the box.

The box mix was on one of the highest shelves in the store, you jump once to grab it- you miss.

you jump again, and miss.

Thirds times a charm right? You jump once more and instead of grabbing it you just push it back more.

well you suppose it’s time to start climbing shelves.

But then a calloused hand came to save you, you immediately think it’s hawks- he’s always somewhere near you.

A deeper voice say your name, “Y/n..?”

Not hawks.

You don’t turn around, your too scared to

suddenly your thankful to that old women who accidentally made Fumikage stop coming with you, you wouldn’t want him here-not now.

You turn around.

Hawks off days were usually spent inside relaxing or trying his very best to actually relax.

lazily getting one of bed, the one with your weighted blanket, he makes his way to the Kitchen.

Grabbing the cereal box, he tries his best to pour it into the bowl but nothing goes in.

Well looks like he needs to go the grocery store.

Getting dressed in a simple outfit he makes his way outside then flies off to the store!

hawks always liked his little adventures, he hoped he’d see you on this one but he highly doubts it.

But hey, speak of the devil because you’re right there in the aisle when he walks into the store!

Seems like you’re talking to a man, nice looking, about 6’ foot with dark brown hair.

Hawks has never heard you talk about your friends, mostly about your son- what was his name again?

You look…scared? Which is weird because at first hawks just thought this was an old friend you were talking to but..

why would you look scared?

Hawks sends over a small baby feather to let you know he’s there, you shouldn’t be scared.

he’ll keep you safe.

His feather tickles your back softly, you jump at first but keep your attention towards the man infront of you.

“So, how’s Fumikage?” His deep voice says.

“Fine.” You say quickly.

He sighs, “look y/n, I know we left off on a bad note but I’m better now.”

He says all of these words so soft and kind, but you remember when that same exact voice pinned your son against a wall and screamed at him.

why would Ryuji even care about how Fumikage is doing.

“Y/n?”

You snap out of that thought, “what.”

“It’s nice to see you again, you look good.”

Ryuji and that sliver tongue of his, always trying to butter you up.

“Thank you, Ryuji, but I have to leave.. Fumi-“

“Could I talk to you a little bit at least.” He raises his voice.

He’s blocking you in, what are you supposed to do?

“Please Ryuji-“

“Everything okay here, sweetheart?” A cheerful voice calls next to you.

It’s hawks, he has a lazy smile on his face you can’t really tell if he’s angry or not also- sweetheart?

“And who are you?” Ryuji asks hawks, who doesn’t know hawks though…

“Well I’m her-…” hawks paisss for a moment, “boyfriend!”

Ryuji chuckles softly, “sure you are..”

You sigh at hawks terrible attempt of pretend.

“Ryuji, that is hawks- he’s...” you look at hawks for a split second, “my boyfriend.”

You can see ss hawks wings flutter for a moment, not a good time for him to be acting all embarrassed.

Ryuji stammers, “Oh, I-..I just wanted to say to you y/n that I’m real-“

you cut him off, “why are you out so early?”

“Hell y/n, you know they don’t really double down on all the ‘domestic abuse’ bullshit.” Ryuji says curtly.

You can see hawks face twist in realization on who this man actually is, you’ve only told him about Ryuji once or twice before.

Ryuji continues, “where’s Fumikage anyway, don’t he always come out with you?”

“He stopped coming out a little while back.”

“Terrible thing really, he’s a good kid.” Ryuji says softly, almost like he’s talking to himself.

“Didn’t think he was a good kid when you were with me.” You say with distain dripping from your mouth.

You don’t really understand why your being like this with Ryuji, maybe hawks is giving you some boost of confidence.

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” Ryuji snaps back.

“Don’t you speak to her like that.” Hawks finally gets himself involved in the small spat.

Ryuji pauses, “Say that again, I dare you.”

You can see Ryujis fists tightening slowly, that’s never a good sigh with him.

“I will make your life miserable bird boy, even when you’re sleeping.”

Hawks steps closer to him, “You wanna go?”

You know Ryuji, he never makes an empty threat.

You grab hawks shoulder, “W-we’re sorry Ryuji.” You stare at the ground, not daring to face him.

“You need to keep his damn squawking to a minimum, y/n.” Ryuji says bitterly.

Hawks looks at you with confusion, you were just talking back to him weren’t you? Where did the confident side of you suddenly disappear to?

You step closer to Ryuji, whispering.

Hawks doesn’t pick up on it, ryuji seems like he’s staring straight through his soul.

You retreat next to hawks, Ryuji scoffs and starts to walk away towards the next aisle.

You let out the breath you were holding, finally relaxing.

“What’d you say to him?” Hawks cocks his head curiously.

“Nothing important.”

“Everything you say is Important to me.” Hawks says softly.

You pause, you won’t tell hawks about Ryujis quirk. You hope that he decides not to use it on him, even after you mouthed off to him.

Ryuji always used his quirk after you fought about something, you would go to bed and he would haunt you in your sleep.

You’d beg for his forgiveness every time, you never stood your ground.

Him hurting Fumikage made you change though.

“I just told him to stay away from Fumikage

That was a lie, hawks accepted it anyways.

Hawks shifts into his more happy go lucky mood, “Are you almost done with shopping?”

“Yea actually, I just needed that cookie mix up there.” You point towards the highest shelf.

Hawks chuckles softly and sends a feather up to get it, “make sure to give me some after you’re done baking.”

“Do you wanna make it with me?” You offer.

Hawks feels his heart skip a beat, you? Asking him to be in your kitchen? Baking sweet treats?

It wasn’t even a question.

“What kind of person would I be if I declined someone in need?” He smiles brightly.

You and hawks proceed to the check out, you’re quite lucky you encountered him at the store because there were almost far too many bags for you to carry.

you walked to the store as well so you couldn’t even put them all into your trunk, thanks for saving the day once again hawks!

He carries way more bags than you do, you’re a little worried he may blow out his back from all the weight but he seems fine.

You notice Ryuji as the two of you walk away, instead of staring at you he stares dead at Hawks.

You try your best to ignore it and continue walking towards your house.

After a couple minutes of walking, Hawks speaks up.

“Your house is just around the corner right?”

“Yep, it’s the white house.”

He snickers, “can’t believe I’ll be meeting the president.”

“Trust me when I say Fumikage is not the president.” You say sternly.

“Could I be your body guard, I heard you were hiring- Mrs President~” he says teasingly.

“You’re more like my stalker and less than some bodyguard.”

Hawks face twists into pure horror, sure he always bumps into you but that doesn’t mean he’s a stalker!

though he wouldn’t mind being your stalker in another universe…

You break through this thoughts with your small fit of giggles, laughing about his ‘silly face’ as you put it.

He was just glad you were looking at him.

Finally the both of you made it to your home, Fumikage left a note by the fridge that said he went to some training thing.

He always worried you, you much rather he called than leaving you some cryptic note- but then again you do the same thing.

Hawks picks up the note, reading it over.

“Hard worker ain’t he?” He chuckles quietly.

You smile, “Yea, just like his father.”

Hawks stiffens slightly, “His father?”

“Mhm, we met at the same hero school actually, he was the top of his class.”

Hawks raises his eyebrows in surprise, “You were training to become a hero?”

“Yea, then I found out I was pregnant with Fumikage so…kinda gave up on that pipe dream. That’s why I became a nurse instead, I still wanted to help people y’know?” You say with a soft smile.

Hawks nods with understanding hum.

He’s quiet for a moment, “And then you met Ryuji?”

“I met him when Fumikage was eleven, Ryuji promised me the world when reality he just gave me a rock.” You laugh at your own bad joke.

You hand hawks a bowl filled with the cookie mix and the milk, even though they’re not completely home made it’s a lot easier and less time consuming.

You speak up, “So, how about your love life?”

Hawks can feel himself choke on his own spit, you? Asking about his love life? His day just keeps getting better.

“Actually I’ve never really dated anyone, always too busy.” He sighs.

You gasp a small, “really?!”

He chuckles at your bewilderment.

“I mean I just thought some with your looks would have one by now!”

Hawks ears go red, even after all that training to control his poker face he still can’t resist blushing at a genuine compliment.

He can hear you chuckle, grabbing his ears and tugging slightly.

You giggle, he loves the sound, “Sorry for making you all bashful.”

One of his wings smacks your arm, you chuckle and shake your head then you bring a pan next to Hawks.

“Your done mixing right?”

He nods and you bump him out of the way, taking the bowl and starting to roll the mixture between your hands.

Hawks admires your handy work with content, he likes hanging around with you.

You spot him staring from the corner of your eye, “Need something, birdie?”

His wings flutter softly, “nothing in particular.”

You finish your work and place the cookies into the oven, Turing around face a relaxed Hawks.

Hawks watched you as you lean against the oven, staring back at him.

Hawks speaks quietly,

“Question.”

“Answer.”

“Is Fumikages father in a mental institution?”

Now it was your turn to choke on your own spit, “what?”

“I mean he must be insane for leaving someone like you…”

You laugh, “well aren’t you the charmer?”

“Only for you.”

You pause, is hawks pinning for you or something?

He steps closer towards you, looking away slightly.

You lean more into the oven, “hawks?”

He steps closer, caging you in, “y/n.”

You can feel his breath come in contact with your face, smells minty.

“I-“

The door suddenly opens, “mother, I’m home!”

It’s Fumikage!

…it’s Fumikage, who will soon walk into you and some man on the brink of canoodling.

You push Hawks off quickly, speedily walking over to where Fumikage is supposed to be.

“Fumi! Did you have fun training?” You open your arms for a hug.

Fumikage accepts it and hums.

You kiss the top of his head then ruffle his feathers, “you smell terrible.”

“Mother…”

“Go take a shower, cookies are in the oven.” You say with a smile.

Fumikage nods and starts to walk over to the bathroom, the one that passes the kitchen.

Until a terrifying scream comes from the kitchen, quite high pitched…

“Fumi?!” You call worriedly.

“M-MOTHER THERE IS A MAN IN OUR HOME.” You peek out into the hallway only to see dark shadow out, mostly about to beat the tar out of poor hawks.

You walk over to Fumikage quickly, “hey, hey! He’s just a guest!”

Fumikage retreats towards you, getting a good look at hawks.

He’s quiet, “you…”

Hawks starches the back of his head, “yea it’s me, the number three-“

“You’re the crazy stalker who was on my mother’s balcony!”

Hawks face twists into confusion, ��wait what-“

Fumikage whips his head towards you, “Mother you need to call the police immediately!”

You sigh, “Fumi…”

This was the second time hawks had been called a stalker today….

Suddenly a devious plan spawns into your head.

“Fumi, there’s no one there.”

“What?”

You suddenly wave a hand towards hawks in a ‘get out of here’ motion.

“Fumi, look at me.” You grab his face, forcing him to look at you instead of hawks.

“Mama, are you okay…? Clearly there’s a man in our kitchen-“

Hawks suddenly jumps through the window in your kitchen, you didn’t really expect him to do that but okay…

“See Fumi, no one’s there!” You point into the kitchen as Fumikage whips his head to face the kitchen.

“W-what, he- he was just there!” Fumikage whips his head around wildly.

“How about you go cool off in the shower?” You suggest softly.

Fumikage looks down at his hands baffled, “I-i…okay.”

He walks towards the bathroom, closing the door.

You’re surprised that actually worked…

You walk into the kitchen, taking out the cookies that were just saved from being burnt.

Until a small little paper caught your eye, you pick it up and read it, it says a series of numbers.

“text me?” With a cute smiley face next to it.

now you have obtained hawks personal number.

What an eventful day?

Soon Fumikage returns from the bathroom, dressed in one of your old metal shirts from your high school days.

“Cute shirt.” You say sarcastically.

“Looks better on me.” He says sassily.

You wrap your arm around his neck and frazzle all of his feathers.

Fumikage claims that he hates it when you do that but he never resists it.

Fumikage tossed himself down onto the couch with a loud sigh, “y’know I didn’t fall for your whole kitchen trick.”

“Yea I know, smartie pants.” You toss one of the cookies you made towards Fumikage.

He catches it, “why’re you being so friendly with a pro hero..?”

“We keep meeting, next time you see him apologize for that stalker comment also.”

Fumikage takes a bite from the cookie, “can’t take it back if it’s true.”

“Fumikage.”

He sighs, “alright, I will.”

You pick up Fumikages feet and place them into your lap, Turing on one of those cult classic movies that he loves so much.

“Noticed you got Groceries.” Fumikage says Groggily, tired from training most likely.

“Yea, y’know who I saw there?”

Fumikage perks up, “that crazy old lady?”

“Nope, Ryuji.”

Fumikage stiffens slightly, “did he talk to you?”

“Small bit, no harm done.”

Fumikage relaxes slightly, “I should’ve gone with you.”

“It’s no sweat Fumi, your mama can protect herself you know?”

Fumikage sighs and nods, you notice his eyes flutter softly trying his best not to fall asleep.

He does anyway, you’re glad that Fumikage is getting the rest he needs because you want him to always be his best self.

And if Fumikage can never become his best self then you wouldn’t mind, you’d still love him anyways.

You stand and carry Fumikage to his room, placing him into the bed and tucking him in like he was 6 again.

You kiss him temple, and hope he dreams the best of dreams.

Someone who wasn’t doing that at the moment was Hawks.

He barely dreamed so when he went off to slumber land he didn’t expect something so terrifying to meet him there.

Blood and grim, screams of the people he never saved, it always haunted him in some way but never to this extent.

He wakes up in a cold sweat, your weighted blanket only giving him some comfort.

He was never like this before, they were never this intense.

He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

What horrified him most is that you were in it, you were scared.

Why is he dreaming like this..?

PART FIVE: MOTHER HEN: PART FIVE

TAG LIST:

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#anime #fanfics #hawks x reader #takami keigo #bnha hawks #keigo x you #mha takami keigo #mha #spotify #hawks x y/n #fumikage tokoyami #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #mha hawks #keigo takami #bnha keigo

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insomniactic-daydream · 4 months ago

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Prove It - Bakugo x Reader

Bakugo x Support Course Shoto's Twin Sister Reader (Pt.1)

Summary: Bakugo is a absolute perfectionist so he needs the best support items he can get. It just so happens that one of his bigger opponents in class has a even smarter support course sister

After Bakugo's failed assignation attempt on Midoriya, Bakugo found himself with now two useless gauntlets. Although the design was almost flawless and the gauntlets did what it intended, Bakugo felt they weren't perfect. So off to the support course he went.

"HAah?! What do you mean a 1st year extra has to do it!? The hell are you here for then!" The blonde yells in aggravation that support gear were not in fact handled by the teacher rather the newbies that need experience.

"I'm paid to teach students. Not to single handedly fix the hero course stuff every time they abuse thier gear", the support course teacher Power Loader says sternly. Bakugo tenses up in anger but remains silent, knowing the teacher wasn't entirely wrong.

"However if you're desperate for some talent I suppose I can point you towards some of my students that show more potential and you won't scare off too easily" the teacher says with a sigh.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY!?" Bakugo yells but is completely ignored as the teach walks to open the support classroom doors.

"Hastume! Are you-" the teacher unable to finish his sentence as a gear disk comes flying toward the door. Bakugo glares at the teacher and glaringly says no.

A quick "Sorry Sensei !" is heard from what Bakugo can only assume is Hastume as the teacher sighs.

"Seems like Hastume has her hands full how about hmm... Y/n!" The teacher calls out for the girl.

Bakugo scans the room to see any response to who Y/n might be. Instantly his eyes connect with a girl with black hair and piercing blue eyes.

(It'll make sense later trust.)

A soft but dull "Yes, Sensei?" comes out of the support course student's mouth as bakugo wonders why you look familiar.

"Looks like you've got your first customer. I trust you can consult him and give him the support gear he needs. This is you're next week assignment grade, so I trust you take this seriously. However, lunch is about to start, so start packing your things and dicuss it over the lunch period." The teacher says.

Y/n gives a firm nod with no further curiosity or protest. "Yes sir," she says. She then start grabbing her things and so do the rest of the students. Once she grabs her things she's able to look at the tall blonde beside her.

"Hello, I'm Y/n Todoroki, but Y/n is fine." Y/n says with a straight face as she pulls out her hand to shake while realization hits Bakugo but he regains composure.

"Tch, whatever just because you're some child nepo prodigy like you're brother, doesn't mean I'm impressed." He says as he grips his backpack straps avoiding the hand Y/n displayed.

Y/n drops her hand finding a new offense to his comment. "I'm not my brother, and by no means my father. A powerful quirk is one thing but I have been making gadgets since I was 6. Support course student's only have one entrance exam not by recommendation. I got here on my own talent. Not by my name."

"You don't want my help then fine, but you won't find someone to listen to your hot headed remarks and can actually do your support gear justice." Y/n says sternly as she begins walking away from the boy.

The boy grits his teeth before shouting.

"Dammit wait! You're teacher won't fix my shit and I don't know how soon I need my gear. If you're any good I need this done and perfected ASAP. If you're so talented then prove it." He grumbles in defeat but he's desperate to get them fix, having the company UA hire would take too long.

Y/n turns around and smirks at the boy victoriously. A completely one eighty personality comparison to your twin brother.

"Well then is a pleasure starting business with you..?" Y/n says as she sticks out her hand again to test the boy's resilience.

"Katsuki Bakugo. Don't wear it out extra." He says as he reluctantly shakes the girl's hand.

(Part 2)

First Fic. I've had this idea/story for the longest time. My writings kinda crap to what my brain be thinking tho so sorry bout that 😭.

#bakugou katsuki #x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha bakugo #mha #mha bakugou

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save-the-villainous-cat · 6 months ago

Note

Yes, yes, we love a bit of hero whump, though may I suggest if it is not too much.... some villain whump? 👀

-💜

Most of the time, the villain could deal with injuries perfectly. In fact, they'd been in med school for several years and had perfected stitching up nearly every inch of their own body. Usually, they wouldn't accept help under any circumstances.

Partly because it felt wrong to bother someone else with their troubles, partly because they were terrified of other people's (non-existing) skills. They couldn't risk it.

But they assumed being placed under house arrest with the hero watching them wasn't exactly usual.

It happened in the middle of a card game between the two of them. A week ago, they would have never agreed to such silly things but after a few days, they had realised there wasn't much to do. No internet connection. No smartphone, no TV. Just this house and a hyperactive hero that couldn't sit still.

Once a week they got to call their parents.

In the exact moment as they put another card onto the stack, the villain felt the stitches open one by one. At first, they simply denied it, made themselves think that it wasn't that bad. They were simply mistaken; it was surely just the usual pain and they were exaggerating.

But the pain increased and they could feel the wetness of the blood trickle down their back. A week ago, before the hero had captured them, they'd been in a pretty rough shape. A swollen face, several nasty bruises and this one stab wound that kept reopening. And stitching their own back? That was more than a little challenge. They hated it, they loathed it.

"I think I have to use the washroom," they said.

"Oh, really? Now that you're losing, huh?" The hero raised an eyebrow. They took these games a little too serious. "Do you seriously expect me to go easy on you because I am the hero? I've been playing this game for years. I have mastered it and I will destroy you, no matter what it takes. No matter what you try, I will-"

"Okay, you win, oh almighty hero." They threw their cards onto the table. It was getting worse. They didn't even know if they could stand up without tripping. Their vision blurred. Everything seemed to turn upside down.

"'Hey, that's not how this works," the hero said. "You can't just give up like that. I was supposed to defeat you."

"M-hm." The villain stood up and for a second, they really thought they would pass out. They took in a deep breath.

"Wait, are you okay?"

"Hm?" The villain didn't find the hero's eyes right away and they could feel their own body sway. God, they needed painkillers, rubbing alcohol, thread, needle... "Yeah, be right back."

They walked past the hero, always in search for something to hold onto but they didn't come very far.

"Oh my god." The hero sounded a little too concerned. The villain thought themselves to be quite a good actor and they weren't even swaying that much. "What the...?"

The hero was next to them in seconds, their hand on the villain's arm. They held onto them.

"What did you do...?"

"What? Nothing, I...oh fuck..." Involuntarily, they grabbed the hero a little too harshly when they felt the wound pulsating.

"Your entire shirt is drenched in blood!" The hero's gaze had hardened and a more concentrated look had replaced their playful smile.

"I got it, it's alright," the villain mumbled. They let go of the hero to drag themselves to the bathroom but the hero had other plans.

"Lay down on the couch," they said.

"You're not my boss," the villain argued. Sometimes, they hated themselves for their stubborness but being nursed by the hero sounded like a greater punishment than even house arrest. Being vulnerable around them, letting someone else take care of them...it sounded like actual hell.

"Please," the hero said. They took the villain's hand and the villain was so confused by this gentle approach that they almost forgot about the pain. They were sure no one else would ever beg to take care of them. When they remembered how violent their capture had been and how many heroes had punched them, they got goosebumps.

They would never tell anyone but they were having nightmares about their fights. Anxiety was eating them up. So, they were almost glad that the hero was observing them at their home.

"It's fine, really," the villain mumbled. "I got it."

"You are bleeding out. You're not fine. Sit down." More or less of their own volition, the villain eventually sat down on the couch. "I'll take your shirt off now, alright?"

The villain's hand was still in theirs.

"Okay," the villain agreed. Their breath hitched and they prepared themselves for the inevitable pain that would follow. However, the hero wasn't rough with them.

"Isn't that from last week?" the hero asked while they pulled the bloody shirt over the villain's head.

"Yeah."

"They gave me an entire protocol about your injuries. There wasn't anything about a stab wound. Just your ankle and your face."

The villain smiled tiredly. "Sounds about right."

It wasn't a big secret that the agency preferred to be silent on how exactly they caught their villains.

Against the villain's burning back, the hero's cold fingers felt heavenly. They put their palm against the villain's skin and pushed them a little forward to see the injury better.

"Did you stitch that yourself?"

"I tried, yeah."

"It looks pretty good," the hero said. "Just give me a second, I will grab everything."

The hero stood up and left for the bathroom.

And the villain sat there, perplexed. When had they ever allowed someone else to even touch them? When had they ever undressed in front of someone else?

What was happening? Were they really this desperate loser who needed comfort that bad?

The villain stared at their hands, their trembling hands. There was no way they could stitch any wound like this, not even if it was on their thigh.

It was more than frustrating, more than a little annoying.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Allergies maybe?" the hero asked. The villain turned around and was surprised to see the hero with all the things they would have grabbed too. There were even painkillers and a glass of water in their hand. The villain shook their head. "Alright. Take this."

All of it was a little...too good to be true. What the hero asked seemed reasonable and their actions were too. The villain swallowed the painkillers and watched as the hero sat on the couch. They pressed a clean towel against the villain's wound and despite their carefulness, the villain hissed.

"Your pain from one to ten? How bad is it?"

"I..." the villain realised they had never thought about it. Usually when they tended to their own wounds they were like a machine, following instructions they had burnt into their system a long time ago. It didn't matter if it burnt or hurt, as long as the wound was closed. But the hero was actually communicating, they were careful and gentle. "...maybe a three?"

"Are you sure?"

"Okay, it's a five." The hero seemed to be another person completely, their jokes and their cheery manner were long gone, yet they were friendly and soft. Apparently, this was the professional side of the hero.

"Do you think it was a clean knife? Your wound doesn't seem to be infected."

"It should have been. Heroes clean their knives regularly, don't they?" For a moment, the hero was quiet and the villain wasn't sure if they had said the wrong thing. They cleared their throat. "Uhm, I can also stitch the wound, if you..."

"No, it's okay. It looks pretty clean, so I'm not going to put any alcohol on it. Don't want to damage your tissue." Woah. The villain had never really cared about that. They'd just drench their wounds in alcohol to kill any infection causing thing, even if that damaged their tissue. "One more thing before I start stitching."

"Yeah?"

"Just out of curiosity. Do you know whom of my colleagues did this to you?"

The villain's stomach tingled. The hero was probably not asking out of pure curiosity.

#ALWAYS #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #request #an answer for an ask #villain whump #h/c

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years ago

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What're friends for?

AN: As a fellow weeb, bringing up Soobin and hentai was only a matter of time. This is just crack tbh. Also, this is just me once again pushing the Boobs enthusiast! Soobin and Sub! Soobin agendas. (Also also, I was tipsy while editing this so, hopefully it's some level of coherent 💀)

Synopsis: A night that was supposed to be spent watching anime with your best friend takes a sharp turn when he accidentally forgets to close his hentai tab.

Heads up: Choi Soobin x Fem! Reader, mostly pwp, friends to friends who fuck, crack, mentions of hentai, Dom! Reader, Sub! Soobin, dirty talk, Reader thinks Soobin is cute and calls him cute a lot, handjob, oral sex (m. receiving), Reader has boobs big enough to give Soobin a titjob, titjob and Soobin cums on Reader's face and tiddies.

Word count: 2353

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

"Hurry up!" you yell, making yourself comfortable on Soobin's bed as you wait for him to return from the kitchen with drinks.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. It's not like My Hero is going to go anywhere," he retorts when he finally returns with two glasses and a bottle of soda, shutting the door behind him.

"Yeah but, we barely get to spend time together in person and I don't want to waste it," you respond, moving over a little so he can comfortably settle beside you.

"True but, you don't need to yell," he says, rolling his eyes at you and grabbing his remote to switch on his TV.

Any response you have dies on your tongue when loud moans assault your ears. You're startled when you turn to see hentai playing on Soobin's screen. A pretty graphic scene of the male protagonist getting a titfuck from a woman with a...generous bust plays out on the screen, obscene sounds emitting from both of them.

Soobin fumbles with the remote, rushing to turn the TV off as quickly as he can. Silence rings out throughout his bedroom.

"Don't," is all he manages to choke out, his face speedrunning its way into scarlet territory.

"Hey, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. A lot of people watch porn," you say sincerely.

Soobin makes a noise that's a combination of embarrassment, frustration and distress. He refuses to look in your direction, choosing instead to stare holes into his bedroom door. Looking for all the world that he hopes the earth underneath him would open and swallow him whole.

"Seems like I was right about you being a boob guy atleast," you say jokingly, trying to ease the tension in the air.

He turns to face you so fast you're half surprised he doesn't snap his neck. "Who- how- why are you talking about what I prefer?" He asks, and his voice cracks halfway through.

"Soobin, relax, none of this is that big of a deal," you shrug, "You're not exactly... subtle when you take peaks at my boobs. Also, I just think you have boob guy energy. Can't really explain it beyond that."

You've never seen Soobin look like he's wished for death more than right now.

"I'm sorry for staring at your- um- it's inappropriate and really disrespectful-"

"Don't worry about it. I'm not offended. I'm pretty flattered, actually," you respond with a wave of your hand.

He looks stunned then, "Wha-what? You're not offended? Wait, you're flattered? Why?"

"Who doesn't feel flattered when someone thinks they're attractive?" You ask with a laugh, "Really, this doesn't have to be a big deal, Soobin."

"You're not the one whose porn habit was just exposed," he fires back but, it's difficult to take him seriously with that cute flush still colouring his cheeks.

"I don't mind sharing if you're really that curious,"

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"Yet you think I'm attractive so, what does that say about you?"

Soobin looks like he's 5 seconds away from yelling.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," you soothe with minimal laughter this time around. Giving his arm a comforting squeeze. He says nothing after that, and the two of settle into a tense silence. However, you've always been too curious and talkative for your own good.

"Have you ever tried it?"

"Tried what?" He asks with his face scrunched up cutely in confusion.

"What they were doing in the hentai. Have you ever gotten a titjob?" You ask, genuinely curious.

The strangled noise he let's out starts to make you consider that maybe you are taking this a little too far.

"No," he mumbles out, dragging his hand across his face and pointedly looking at anything in his room that isn't you.

"Would you like to?"

"What?" Soobin's wide, startled eyes meeting yours. As though he's not entirely sure he heard you correctly.

"Would you like one? I wouldn't mind," you say sincerely. You've always thought your best friend was attractive and, clearly, he thinks you're attractive too. The circumstances couldn't be more perfect if you tried.

Soobin just stares at you for a long minute. His lips parted, and eyes wide.

"Are you... serious?"

"Yeah. I know I tease and joke a lot but, I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't serious,"

"You don't have to do this out of some misplaced sense of pity or whatever. I'll survive being embarrassed,"

"I'm not. I really want to. You can obviously say no. I'd never hold it against you, but I'm not offering out of pity. Not in the slightest,"

Soobin seems to still not believe this is all real, but he doesn't look quite as skeptical, and he's looking at you now, so that's a start.

"Okay," he says so softly that you almost miss it. Anticipation courses through you when his words do finally register. You shuffle closer to him then. Feeling a bit of pride when his blush darkens and his hands nervously toy with his sheets.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?"

"Yes," the already breathy quality of his voice makes your insides squirm. It's cute how he jumps slightly when your hand rests dangerously high on his thigh. You don't give him much time to think about it, though, because soon your lips are against his.

The moan he let's out goes straight to pussy. A dull ache already settling in as you try your best not to push him down and straddle his lap. You can't help the uptick of your lips when you feel him shudder as your tongue teases his mouth. He's just so fucking cute.

"You can touch me, you know," you tell him when you trail kisses along his jaw. Your hand moving further up his thigh as you shift closer to him.

"I did-didn't want to ma-make you uncomfortable," he stutters out, hands hovering nervously over you. "Soobin, you're going to be fucking my tits. It's completely fine to touch me," and to prove your point, you grab one of his gigantic hands and press it to one of your breasts.

Choosing not to wear a bra today definitely worked out for you. He seems to take initiative from there. Tentatively squeezing and letting a breathless 'fuck' as he takes in how soft you are.

Before you can utter more teasing remarks, his other hands weaves its way into your hair, and he meets your lips in a frenzied kiss. You moan against his pillowy lips when his thumb brushes over your nipple through your shirt. That just seems to egg him on more. Groaning into you when he gives you a particularly harsh squeeze.

For your part, your hands toy with the waistband of his sweats. Smiling when you feel his abdomen tense and jump with ever brush of your fingertips.

"Y/n," he whines, hips jerking towards you. "Yes?" You pull back and ask coyly, the ache between your thighs worsening as you take in how dishevelled he already looks.

"You're playing with me," he says with a pout and god, you want to ruin him. However, you push down the thought. You don't want to scare him off so soon.

"Playing with you? How?" You ask, titling your head in faux confusion.

"You're teas-teasing me. I want you t-to touch me," he rushes out so quickly you nearly miss his words. When you register what he says, your walls clench hard. You're a little surprised he said it so directly. Maybe he's becoming desperate. Cute.

"I am touching you, Soobin," you don't fail to notice the way he shudders when you say his name.

"You know what I mean,"

"I don't. You have to be specific,"

For a brief moment, you think he isn't going to respond. Maybe too embarrassed to tell you what he wants exactly.

"I want you to touch my cock," he whispers and, you pounce.

You don't give him a moment to comprehend what's happening. Kissing him fiercely as your hand snakes its way down his sweats and boxers. You both moan into each other at the contact. Fuck, he's much bigger than you fantasised about. Hot and incredibly hard in your palm.

"You're already so hard," you tease as you dot kisses along his jaw and, barely stroke him. The copious amounts of the pre-cum he's leaked out making for an easy glide nonetheless. Briefly, you wonder if he'd let you sit on it and ride him to your heart's content. Another time maybe.

"Yeah, for you," he moans, eyes fluttering shut and hips jolting against your hand to get as much friction as he can. It's not fair in the slightest how good he looks like this. His words certainly don't help either.

Impatiently, you tug his boxers and sweats down, and the sight of him flushed an appealing red makes you clench hard.

"Is it okay if I suck you off? Going in dry wouldn't be...pleasant," you ask, watching him for any signs of hesitance. However, you're met with the opposite. A throaty groan falling from his plush lips and his cock twitching against his stomach. This man really might just be the death of you.

"Yeah, it's okay," he mumbles, avoiding your gaze as the blush in his cheeks darken.

"You're so fucking cute," you breathe, kissing his neck and stroking him less leisurely this time around. His moans and the jerky, shallow thrusts of his hips into your hand make you grin against his skin and, your insides squirm.

"Shut up," he retorts but, it's severely undercut by how fucked out he already sounds. His hands gripping the sheets harshly.

"Oh?" You ask with faux innocence, stilling your hand around the base of his cock. Biting back a giggle when he whines and tries to fuck your hand for any sort of friction.

"Fu-fuck, fine. I'm so-sorry. I'm sorry, okay?" He grits out.

"Good boy," you say with a grin that's likely a tad too smug. Giving his jaw one more kiss, you ease yourself onto his floor. Honestly, you're impressed you're being so composed about all of this. Your breath stuttering in your lungs when you're eye level with his ridiculously appealing cock.

Soobin feels himself throb when your soft breaths hit him. It's made worse when he sees your tongue lick your lips and the look in your eyes. You look like you want to devour him.

The sharp gasp he let's out when you take your first lick of him goes straight to your clit. Ruined panties sticking to you uncomfortably as you familiarise yourself with the slightly salty taste that is all Soobin. His hips instinctively buck into you when you finally decide to stop toying with the poor man and, see how far you can take him.

"Fuc-fuck, sorry," he groans, eyes shut tightly as he tries his best to reign in his reactions. Such a cutie. You'd tell him so if your mouth wasn't filled with his dick. A mixture of your saliva and his pre-cum slipping past your lips and down your chin. Your hand stroking what you can't fit in your mouth and making sure he's thoroughly coated.

However, as much as you'd happily make him cum down your throat and keep sucking him off until he cries, tonight isn't about that.

His eyes are frantic and glassy when they meet yours. He looks so genuinely offended that you stop sucking him off that it almost makes you laugh. "Why?" Is all his foggy brain can seem to supply and you really want to kiss him.

Instead of answering him with words, you tug off your shirt and Soobin doesn't seem so upset anymore. Fiery eyes take in your breasts and committing them to memory. You don't fail to notice his cock twitching against his stomach, a fresh drop of pre-cum leaking out of him. God, he's just so easy.

"Still complaining?" You can't help but, tease. However, any response he would've given you dies on his tongue when you cup your breasts and envelope his slick cock in them.

The moan that flies from his lips is so wanton and broken that you can practically feel yourself soaking through your shorts. His eyes are shut as he tries his best not to fuck up into your ridiculously soft tits. Such a good boy.

You notice his large hands grip his sheets even more fiercely than before when you start to move. Allowing him to get accustomed to the glide of his cock between the valley of your breasts.

"Fe-Feels so good," he stutters out, weakly bucking into your touch. You've never felt more aroused in your entire life. He's so sensitive and responsive. You're sure you could have him cumming within minutes.

You bite back a grin when he gasps as you lick and suck at the head of his cock that pokes out. Looking up at him through fluttering lashes with his tip in your mouth and the rest of him nestled comfortably between your unfairly soft tits. His pre-cum and your saliva smearing your breasts.

You knew it wouldn't take much but, it still startles you when Soobin cums. He babbles out apologies as his hips jolt against you. His warm, thick cum landing on your tongue, face and breasts before you can even fully comprehend what just happened.

His cum isn't unpleasant. A little salty and you swallow it as he cock begins to soften between your breasts. You give him an apologetic look when he shudders as you slowly remove him from between your breasts. Looking around for anything to clean yourself up with.

"Fuck, again I'm so sorry," he apologises reaching into his bedside table for a few tissues, "here you go. I didn't mean to...make a mess."

Those words really shouldn't affect you as much as they do. At this point, you're sure even your shorts are ruined.

"It's okay. Honestly, it was really hot seeing you fall apart like that,"

The embarrassed, strained groan he gives you makes you smile harder than perhaps strictly necessary. He really is just so easy.

#choi soobin smut #soobin smut #txt smut

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rewrittenmha · 3 months ago

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Final Exams Arc

Okay, let's get into this.

Izuku Midoriya & Katsuki Bakugou vs All Might:

I know, I know. Just hear me out, okay?

I was absolutely going to change this matchup (@nutzgunray-lvt had brought up Momo and Izuku vs Midnight and I really loved that idea). But I did say before that some of Aizawa's worst tendencies would still be around. He thinks Izuku and Bakugou's relationship is because of both of them not being able to cooperate. This is the opportunity to teach him a well-deserved lesson.

So, I would say most things go the same. Bakugou is being a bitch uncooperative and making things harder. But once Bakugou punches him, Izuku starts to contemplate a lot.

Logically, he knows that while All Might is focused on Bakugou, he could escape. Bakugou wouldn't let All Might ignore him and he could use the cover of the smoke from the debris and Bakugou's gauntlets.

But it feels so... unheroic. He isn't supposed to run and leave his teammate behind. A true hero would stand and fight, even while facing certain death. He's not sure he could abandon his ally, it feels cowardly. Especially because Bakugou could be seriously hurt as All Might wasn't going easy on them.

Part of him argues that Bakugou wouldn't care if he was the one being beat to a pulp.

Ironically, it's Yaoyorozu who comes to mind. Izuku knows the two of them are very different, but he really does admire her rationality and planning. She would make the argument that coming back with reinforcements isn't leaving a teammate behind, it's presenting an opportunity to save them.

Izuku doesn't think he would actually be able to do this in a real situation. He wants to save people, he wants to make people smile. Has he ever made Bakugou smile?

But this isn't a real situation, is it? Maybe just this once, he didn't have to intervene.

Izuku turns around and runs for the exit, successfully escaping while Bakugou is fighting All Might alone like an idiot.

He tries to ignore the guilt he feels at what he's done and wonders if All Might is disappointed in him.

Momo Yaoyorozu & Shoto Todoroki vs Eraserhead

Honestly, as far as this fight goes, it's one of my favorites of this arc. I feel like the characterization for both of them is pretty good. They both play off one another really well.

However, the way I've had it set up, Yaoyorozu had been learning to think on her feet. So, obviously, I have to continue with that.

Unintentionally, Todoroki tries to brush Yaoyorozu aside because he thinks he can handle it without causing her harm. He admires her intelligence and proficiency with her quirk, but thinks that he could probably mange to apprehend Aizawa on his own.

Yaoyorozu vehemently protests. She acknowledges that she has hesitated before, but that this was different than the Sports Festival. She knows that she can do better if he gives her the chance.

Todoroki is taken back by this and doesn't notice Aizawa suspended from the rafters. But Yaoyorozu does out of the corner of her eye. She moves him out of the way and creates a pipe that Aizawa's capture scarf wraps around.

She can't hesitate here, she needs to act quickly. She releases the pipe and the force drives it towards Aizawa. He dodges it easily, but he was momentarily distracted which gave Yaoyorozu and Todoroki time to hide and regroup.

Once they're out of his sight, Todoroki apologizes. He tells her that he wasn't trying to make her feel inadequate, he just wasn't used to relying on others. He tells her that he thinks that she's very capable and has a high opinion of her, which was why he voted for her for class representative. He tells her he'd ready to listen to whatever plan she has.

Yaoyorozu is genuinely touched and accepts his apology. She admits that she understands how it's hard to connect and work with others and has trouble with coming off as unfriendly and unapproachable and tends to overthink too much. She actually talks about Izuku and Uraraka and how she's somewhat jealous of them because they're able to act without thinking.

So the two of them make a plan.

Yaoyorozu "ambushes" Aizawa with a smoke bomb. This doesn't work because his goggles allow him to see heat signatures (my own addition, I feel like it makes sense). She attacks him with a staff she made. She knows that she's outclassed, but manages to defend against his blows. She isn't thinking, she's fighting on instinct and she's actually managing to hold her own.

But Aizawa is more skilled and experienced. He knocks her down and captures her with his scarf. But suddenly he can't move. He looks down and sees that his feet are frozen to the ground. He turns around to attempt to find Todoroki and negate his quirk when a handcuff is clasped around his wrist.

It had been a diversion.

Yaoyorozu managed to free herself by cutting through his scarf with a dagger and cuffed him when he was focused on finding Todoroki.

(Yaoyorozu leans balance between planning and taking action while Todoroki learns how to rely on others and seem them as equals. Yay character development)

Ochako Uraraka & Yuga Aoyama vs Thirteen:

I'm keeping this mostly the same, but without Aoyama's teasing. But instead of Uraraka being embarrassed and letting go, she asks Aoyama to use his laser to momentarily blind Thirteen the minute she lets go. He does so, and Uraraka allows herself to be sucked in and propelled at Thirteen, where she takes them (referring to Thirteen neutrally because her gender hasn't been revealed at this point) down and cuffs them while they can't see.

I think I'll be keeping every other match the same. EXCEPT for Mineta and Sero versus Midnight, Sero doesn't take the fall for Mineta and Mineta falls victim to his own weakness. It's Sero who saves him and carries him to the exit.

(I changed this because I'm going to give Mineta a little bit of growth and reflection. Having him lose here means that his perversion isn't only gross, it's hindering his work as a hero and he needs to do better)

After the exam, Aizawa commends Izuku (in private) for thinking logically for once, but questions why he would leave his teammate behind because it seems unlike him. Izuku confesses that he tried to plan and work with Bakugou, but he simply wasn't listening. He figured he could save both their grades if he successfully escaped.

He feels guilty even as he says this. How can he call himself a hero if he left his teammate to suffer at the hands of a villain?

Even if it was Bakugou.

Aizawa thinks about what he's being told for a long time. He knows that Bakugou has been violent with Izuku. He had assumed that they were rivals who couldn't get along, which was why he had paired them together. He had noticed that All Might looked like he wanted to protest this arrangement, but hadn't.

All this time, he had thought Izuku was part of the problem. But there was a bruise on the kid's cheek even though he hadn't sustained any injuries from All Might. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened.

And suddenly he feels guilty for not nipping this in the bud sooner.

Aizawa tells Izuku not to worry about it and that he had done the right thing. Then, he goes to confront All Might. He asks All Might what the real nature of Izuku and Bakugou's relationship is. All Might doesn't want to tell Aizawa for three reasons: a) it was Izuku's business not his, b) he didn't want Aizawa to accuse him of favoritism again and give Izuku and even harder time, and c) he didn't have the full truth himself, just speculation.

(I initially wrote this to be an argument, but I feel like All Might probably wouldn't argue with Aizawa. Plus, he feels guilty about not addressing this sooner)

Aizawa feels like an asshole (he is), but decides that he's going to try to do better by Izuku and all of his students.

RESULTS:

Yuga Aoyama: PASS

Mina Ashido: FAIL

Tsuyu Asui: PASS

Tenya Iida: PASS

Ochako Uraraka: PASS

Mashirao Ojiro: PASS

Denki Kaminari: FAIL

Eijiro Kirishima: FAIL

Koji Koda: PASS

Rikido Sato: FAIL

Mezo Shoji: PASS

Kyoka Jirou: PASS

Hanta Sero: PASS

Fumikage Tokoyami: PASS

Shoto Todoroki: PASS

Toru Hagakure: PASS

Katsuki Bakugou: FAIL

Izuku Midoriya: PASS

Minrou Mineta: FAIL

Momo Yaoyorozu: PASS

Bakugou is pissed when the results are announced. He rages, demanding to know why worthless Deku passed and he didn't. Izuku is also shocked (and guilty, because he had assumed escaping would secure both their grades. He wouldn't have done it if he had known Kacchan would fail too!). But Aizawa silences Bakugou with a nasty glare.

He reprimands Bakugou, telling him he had warned him about acting irresponsibly. Not only had he refused to cooperate and put himself in unnecessary danger, but he had assaulted his teammate. Aizawa bluntly tells him that a strong quirk isn't everything and that he can't act however he wants and still get his way in life. Reality would force him to face more severe consequences unless he gets his act together.

(Despite this, Izuku still feels like he should have failed too. He had abandoned his teammate, wasn't that the opposite of being heroic?)

Aizawa announces that everyone will be going to the training camps (there was no logical ruse because that shit is dumb and canon Aizawa doesn't know any other ways to teach).

While gathering allies to form the League of Villains, Tomura is introduced to two candidates: Himiko Toga and someone who introduces himself as Dabi. They both sought the League out because of Stain.

(Also, I just confirmed that Dabi did not have a notable record prior to joining the LOV. Keep that in mind)

This pisses Tomura off. He hates Stain for turning him down and doesn't understand his ideals. Society was wrong and heroes were two-faced liars who perpetuated it. Why not wipe out everything? Why not destroy it all? He expresses this to the new candidates.

Dabi rolls his eyes and calls Tomura an idiot without a real cause. He doesn't care about what or who gets destroyed, but he admires Stain because he spoke out against false heroes. He claims that false heroes are the real blunder on society and if they can be purged, humanity might get their shit together.

Toga doesn't talk about false heroes, but she does want a world where everyone can be accepted no matter what he quirk is. She wants to be herself and have people to accept and care about her. She felt a kinship with Stain because of the similarities in their quirks and thought that the League would accept her because of this.

Tomura is frustrated because he doesn't understand what the hell these people are talking about. He tries to kill them and they go to defend themselves only for Kurogiri to intervene. He tells Tomura that he needs all the forces he can get and that maybe he should actually listen to what these two have to say.

Grumbling, he goes to the mall to clear his head.

This happens to be when 1A also goes to the mall to prepare for the training camps. Izuku, Iida, Uraraka, Tsu, and Yaoyorozu form a small group as they look for things to buy. Yaoyorozu's made an itinerary and hands everyone a list of basic necessities. The girls break off from the boys, wanting to see if they can find more comfortable clothes to wear.

Iida expresses his gratitude to Izuku, not for saving him, but for showing him what it means to be a hero. Izuku blushes and stutters, telling Iida he really doesn't need to thank him. Especially because he doesn't think he did the right thing during the final exam. He confesses what happened to Iida and that he feels like he betrayed his morals.

But Iida assures him that he didn't do anything wrong. Bakugou was risking both their grades and was never in any actual danger. Izuku says that even so he should have tried harder. Iida's quiet for a moment, then asks Izuku how he feels about Bakugou.

Izuku is confused by the question. He admires Bakugou's strength and dedication. What more is there? Why is Iida asking him this?

But before he can say that, a hooded figure shows up and starts touching Izuku (stranger danger) while expressing how much of a fan he was. He goes on and on about how he was so cool during the Sports Festival and facing Stain (chronic yapper). Both Izuku and Tenya are tense, especially when the stranger reveals that he didn't think they would meet again.

They both realize at the same time that the man is Tomura Shigaraki, the one who led the attack on the USJ.

Iida immediately moves to do... something (attack? Call for help? He doesn't know!) only to watch with horror as Shigaraki's fingers close around Izuku's neck, leaving his middle finger off him.

Shigaraki tells both of them to calm down unless they want Izuku to die. But Izuku assures Iida that it doesn't matter if he dies, he just wants him to stop Shigaraki. If he makes a scene, the heroes will show up. However, Shigaraki tells them that he'll kill everyone he can before the heroes get there if either of them draw any attention. Iida wasn't planning on risking it anyway.

Shigaraki tells them that the Hero Killer is bugging him. Both of them are confused; they assumed that Stain was working with him. Shigaraki tells them that wasn't the case and that he's jealous of all the attention Stain is getting. He doesn't understand the difference between them.

Iida asks what Shigaraki's goal is. He hates Stain, but he knows that Stain had a goal. One that might not have been as baseless as he originally thought. His brother, who he had thought was a virtuous, noble hero had done something wrong. If he was right about Tensei, wasn't it possible that he was right about all of them?

Shigaraki answers that he wants to destroy everything.

Izuku says that's why he isn't getting any attention. He had been thinking a lot about Todoroki and what he had told him about Endeavor. If the #2 hero was that bad, what were other heroes getting away with? How much did society overlook about someone just because they were strong? It's hard for him to admit through his admiration for heroes, but he thinks Stain made some sort of sense. He tells Shigaraki that Stain had a goal and a reason for doing things, while Shigaraki causes destruction for no reason. Izuku doesn't agree with what Stain does, but his ideals make some sort of sense.

Izuku tells Shigaraki that he suspects that Stain wants to fix things about society and that correlates to killing false heroes. He doesn't understand how quite yet, but he assumes him and All Might were spared because they put others first. They were "true heroes," according to Stain.

(He really doesn't feel like a true hero after what happened in the final exam. He feels like a fake)

Shigaraki thinks about his answer. He thinks about what Toga and Dabi said. He knew society was wrong, Sensei had always told him that. But he had always said the answer was destroying it and Tomura had always agreed.

But fixing it? He doesn't understand the point of that. Tomura had never fixed anything in his life. He had always just destroyed and killed whatever irked him, whatever made him angry. And Sensei had encouraged it. He's a villain and he had never denied that. He doesn't want to fix anything.

He just wants to destroy it.

Didn't he?

But Stain's goals seemed to get attention. He could use that to his advantage. Then everyone would have to pay attention to him. He could make Stain's followers his own. Starting with those two fools who followed him so devoutly.

The girls return. Uraraka and Yaoyorozu ask who their friend is, but Tsu instantly realizes who it is. She had been a second away from dying at his hand. She could never forget that face. She freezes, which makes the other two girls realize something is wrong. They demand that Shigaraki let go of Izuku.

Shigaraki chuckles and does as they say. He thanks Izuku and Iida for the help and leaves, warning them not to follow. Izuku asks what All For One is after, to which Shigaraki replies he has no idea. He then tells Izuku to worry about himself because he'll kill him next time they meet.

Once he's gone, Uraraka frantically asks what happened and if they're alright while Yaoyorozu tends to Tsu who's gone pale. Uraraka calls the police while Iida tries to shake Izuku who's unresponsive.

He can't bring himself to respond to his friends. All he can think about is how he was going to stop Shigaraki and All For One before they can hurt more people

Notes:

Aizawa redemption anyone?? He's going to be a better teacher from here on out. Still an asshole, but his goal is going to be actively working to improve his students. Letting Bakugou's behavior go unchecked to where he felt comfortable attacking his teammate was the wake-up call he needed

I intentionally didn't have All Might talk to Izuku. He's still grappling with his own views about heroics at the moment and he suspects that Bakugou is a bully, so it doesn't occur to him that Izuku might thing he was disappointed in him. They're both really bad communicators

It was a weird choice on Horikoshi's part to make Sero pay for Mineta's shortcomings. He could have used this to address Mineta's actions, instead he more or less rewards it. Feels like something he does a lot with Mineta (he also did it during the JTA), which is part of the reason why he's so hated

I swear Uraraka is so much more enjoyable as a character when you take away her crush on Izuku. Rewriting this damn story is reigniting my love for her

So, Shigaraki. What I'm doing here is trying to a) give him agency and b) have him overcome AFO's manipulations. Shigaraki's hatred of heroes and society comes from AFO taking advantage of what happened that night he killed his family. These aren't Shigaraki's real feelings, he doesn't have enough agency to have real feelings at this point. My changes here were to a) give him a real goal and b) show that he and Izuku are kind of coming to terms with the same thing. That's also why I steered away from him wanting to kill All Might, I want their interaction to be driven away from their mentors. They're kind of coming to the same conclusions, but on opposite spectrums

I kept Iida around because I wanted him to also reflect on Stain and Tensei. Also, he's a good friend

I know it might feel OOC to have Izuku leave Bakugou. I felt weird writing it. But this is supposed to be representative of a few things. Izuku's views are changing and evolving. He's being affected by the people around him, most noticeably Momo who's kind of his opposite here. He knew he wasn't ready to fight All Might and knew it was pointless to get Bakugou to cooperate. He was thinking objectively and allowed himself to do so because it was a school assignment and not real life (he wouldn't be able to do this in a real situation). It also isn't a coincidence that this happened after Bakugou punched him. He's coming to terms with how much Bakugou's treatment has affected him over the years. After all that's happened- his friends' and All Might's concerns- Izuku is beginning to separate himself from Bakugou, even if he hasn't realized it yet. This is actually what Iida was going to suggest was happening before Shigaraki showed up

Dabi is way closer to being morally ambiguous than an outright villain here. I mean, in my opinion, that's how he was originally. Him and Toga are both following Stain's ideals more closely, although Toga doesn't really understand them to the same extent (I noticed that Shigaraki seemed to assume that Toga didn't actually care about Stain's goals despite admiring him but didn't include Dabi in that. It implies that his goals always aligned more closely with what Stain wanted. Horikoshi why did you ruin him)

#mha rewrite #bnha critical #mha critical #anti bakugou katsuki #aizawa critical #izuku deserves better #long post

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kat-thepoet · 3 months ago

Text

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Part 7: I feel like I'm drowning

SMUT! MDNI.

A/N: This is my first time writing this type of stuff so plss be nice 😭

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

7.2k words

"So he just walked off?" Vanessa asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah," I replied, frustration lacing my words. "I have no idea why... He hasn't spoken to me since Tuesday, and it's really pissing me off." I took a sip of my coffee, trying to calm my nerves.

It was our day off, so I decided to grab coffee with Wade and Vanessa. I invited Logan, but he didn't even say anything—just closed the door in my face.

Vanessa tried to suppress a laugh, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I think he likes you," she teased, unable to hide her smirk.

Wade snorted, rolling his eyes. "Likes her? Try obsessed with her," he quipped, leaning back in his chair. "Logan's got it bad, Peach. He's just too stubborn to admit it."

I frowned, not quite getting the joke. "What are you talking about? He's just being weird and distant. I don't see how that equals liking someone."

I glanced between Vanessa and Wade, genuinely confused as they exchanged knowing looks.

Vanessa shook her head, still smiling. "Oh, Violet, you're really not seeing it, are you? The guy is practically brooding every time you're around. Classic 'I'm falling for you, but I don't know how to handle it' behavior."

Wade leaned forward, grinning. "Yeah, seriously. It's like watching a rom-com where the hero has no clue he's head over heels. You're the only one who doesn't see it."

They both laughed, leaving me even more perplexed. I stared at them, still baffled. "You guys are ridiculous. Logan and I are just... I don't even know what we are right now, but it's definitely not that." I shook my head, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion. "He's just being moody, like always."

Vanessa and Wade exchanged another amused glance, clearly not convinced by my denial.

Sensing the need for a change in topic, Wade leaned back and crossed his arms. "Speaking of something more exciting than Logan's brooding, my boss dug up a lead from that warehouse we took down."

I perked up, grateful for the diversion. "Really? What did he find?"

Wade smirked. "Turns out, that place was more than just a hideout. They've been trafficking some high-tech weaponry. We're talking next-gen stuff."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. "Any idea who the buyers are?"

Wade shrugged. "That's the juicy part we're still trying to figure out. But my boss thinks it's linked to that uptick in underground auctions we've been hearing about."

I sipped my coffee, mulling over the information. "Sounds like we're gonna have our hands full."

Wade grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, my boss is gonna text me the address tonight. There's another hidden warehouse, and we're supposed to go in and play 'find and shut down the bad guys' again."

Vanessa chuckled. "Sounds like another fun field trip."

I couldn't help but smile at Wade's casual tone. "Count me in. Let's make sure they don't slip through our fingers this time."

Wade winked. "Oh, they won't. We'll crash their little party before they even know what hit 'em."

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That night, Wade took it upon himself to let Logan know about the mission since Logan and I still weren't on speaking terms. I suited up like always, pulling my hair into a tight ponytail. I waited in the kitchen, listening for Logan to finally emerge from his room. When he did, he didn't even glance my way—it was like I didn't exist.

I rolled my eyes at his attitude, trailing behind him as I closed the door behind us. We made our way to Wade's apartment in silence, the tension between us almost palpable. When we reached Wade's door, he swung it open with a wide grin.

"Well, look who decided to join forces again," Wade said with exaggerated cheerfulness. "You two planning to give each other the silent treatment the whole mission, or is this just foreplay?"

Logan shot him a deadly glare. "Shut the fuck up, Wade."

Wade chuckled, unfazed. "Ooh, touchy. Someone's clearly feeling the love tonight," he mocked, his eyes darting between the two of us.

I glanced at Logan, who was still glaring at Wade, and couldn't help but wonder if what Vanessa and Wade had told me earlier was actually true. Could his coldness really be hiding something else? Wade, never one to back down from teasing, smirked and added, "You know, all this tension could be solved with one good make-out session. Just saying."

Before I could react, Logan's fist flew faster than I could blink, landing squarely on Wade's jaw. Wade stumbled back, clutching his face in shock.

"Logan! What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled, rushing forward to check on Wade, who was now rubbing his jaw with a laugh.

Logan didn't say a word, his face a mask of barely contained fury. "I'll wait outside," he muttered, turning on his heel and stalking out of the apartment.

I watched him go, my heart pounding, a mix of anger and confusion swirling inside me. Wade let out a low whistle, grinning, "Man, he's got it bad," he said, shaking his head. As Logan stormed out, I turned to Wade and smacked him on the shoulder.

"Ow!" Wade exclaimed, but the exaggerated tone in his voice made it clear he was only pretending to feel pain. His grin widened as he rubbed his jaw, clearly unfazed by the punch.

"Really, Violet? After Logan sucker-punched me, you're gonna pile on?"

I rolled my eyes. "You deserved it, and you know it."

Wade just laughed, the mock pain quickly forgotten. "Totally worth it, though. Did you see the look on his face? I've never seen him that riled up—priceless!"

I couldn't help but crack a small smile, though I was still annoyed. "You're impossible, Wade."He winked at me. "And that's why you love me."

We made our way outside to the waiting taxi, where Logan was already sitting in the front seat, staring straight ahead. Wade glanced at him and then back at me, a smirk forming on his face.

"Damn," Wade whispered loud enough for only me to hear, "he must be really mad if he can't even sit next to you."

I shot him a look, both annoyed and concerned, but didn't say anything as I slid into the backseat. Wade followed, still grinning like he was enjoying every bit of the tension.

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Dopinder dropped us off a good distance from the warehouse, right behind a patch of overgrown bushes. The yard surrounding the building was wide open, so we'd have to be extra careful about making our approach.

As we crouched behind the bushes, Wade surveyed the scene with a grin that told me he was already thinking up something dramatic. He turned to us, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Alright, team, listen up: We're all going in, taking out anyone who so much as looks at us funny. And trust me, it's going to be spectacular."

He pointed toward the warehouse with a flourish. "Once we've turned this place into our personal Marvel action movie set, we'll find the weapons. And you can bet I've got a few tricks up my sleeve to make sure we leave a lasting impression."

I raised an eyebrow. "Wade, we're supposed to keep this low-key, remember?"

Wade waved a hand dismissively. "Sure, sure, low-key—except for the part where we make everything go boom. You know, just to keep things interesting." He winked. "After we've secured the goods, I'll call my supervisor to come and pick up the pieces."

Logan just grunted, clearly resigned to whatever chaos Wade was about to unleash.

Wade's grin widened. "Alright, let's go give these fuckers the show of a lifetime. And hey, if we're lucky, there might even be some fireworks."

With that, we moved out from behind the bushes, Wade already plotting his next big explosion as we made our way toward the warehouse.

The plan was going smoothly—almost too smoothly. We had taken down the guards outside with minimal noise, and the fighting inside the warehouse was in full swing. It was chaotic, with punches, kicks, and the occasional dramatic flair courtesy of Wade. But then, as I was taking on one of the last guards, a sharp pain shot through my arm.

I staggered back, gritting my teeth as I looked down to see blood seeping through my sleeve. I'd been hit.

Logan was at my side in an instant, his eyes wide with concern. "Violet, you're hit!"I shook him off, the pain making me wince. "I'm fine," I snapped, pushing myself to my feet. "It's just a scratch."

Without waiting for a response, I turned and threw myself back into the fight, ignoring the throbbing in my arm. Logan stood there for a second, stunned by my determination, before shaking his head and following me back into the fray.

After taking down another guard with a swift kick, I retreated to a quiet corner of the warehouse. The pain in my arm was throbbing, and I knew I needed to take care of it before it slowed me down any further. I found a moment of respite behind a stack of crates, out of sight from the chaos, and focused on my wound.

Placing my hand over the injury, I closed my eyes and concentrated, feeling the familiar warmth of my healing powers flow through me. The pain began to fade as the tissue knitted back together, the bullet wound closing as if it had never been there.

Meanwhile, Logan and Wade were still in the thick of the fight. Logan was a blur of motion, his claws slicing through the air with deadly precision. He moved with an almost primal intensity, taking down anyone who dared come near him. His eyes flicked to me occasionally, ensuring I was safe, even as he fought off multiple attackers.

Wade, on the other hand, was in his element. He dispatched guards with a flair that was almost theatrical, mixing brutal efficiency with a twisted sense of humor. One guard got a boot to the face, another was sent flying with a well-placed explosive, and all the while, Wade kept up a running commentary of snarky remarks and taunts.

"Come on, guys, I was hoping for more of a challenge!" Wade shouted, dodging a swing from one of the remaining guards and delivering a swift counterpunch. He spun around, firing off a few rounds with pinpoint accuracy, the guards dropping like flies. "Seriously, this is just embarrassing for you!"

As the last few guards rushed at them, Logan and Wade worked in tandem, a seamless display of brute strength and chaotic precision. Logan took the lead, his claws flashing as he tore through the opposition, while Wade provided cover fire, his bullets finding their marks with deadly accuracy.

Within minutes, the warehouse was cleared. I walked over to join Logan and Wade, stretching my arm as I moved, making sure the healing had done its job. The three of us began to search the warehouse for the weapons, moving cautiously through the dimly lit corridors.

As we turned a corner, something caught my eye—a hidden door partially concealed by a stack of crates. Wade nudged the crates aside, revealing a keypad. Logan cracked it open with a single swipe of his claws, and the door slid open, revealing a stark, white room that immediately sent a chill down my spine.

The room was unsettlingly clean, with a sterile, almost clinical atmosphere. It looked more like an operating theater than a weapons cache. Medical beds lined the walls, each equipped with heavy restraints. The metallic gleam of surgical tools laid out on trays added to the room's sinister vibe.

I walked further into the room, my heart pounding as a sense of familiarity washed over me. There was something about this place—something I couldn't quite place, but it felt disturbingly familiar.

"Does this place look... off to anyone else?" Wade asked, his usual bravado tempered by a hint of unease. He glanced around, his fingers twitching near the trigger of his gun. Logan's eyes narrowed as he examined the room. "This isn't just a weapons storage. They were doing something else here."

I nodded, my gaze lingering on the restraints. "This setup... it's not just for storage. They were experimenting on people here. Testing something."

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I took a step back, the memories of similar places flashing in my mind. I couldn't shake the feeling that this room was tied to something dark—something that connected to my past.

Logan noticed my reaction and moved closer, his voice softer. "You recognize this place?"

I hesitated, my mind racing as I tried to piece together the fragments of memories. "It's similar to places I've seen before. But I don't know why it feels so familiar..." We continued to search the warehouse, our footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. After a few minutes, we stumbled upon another door, this one almost invisible against the wall. I stepped forward and placed my hand on the keypad, using my powers to unlock the mechanism. The door slid open, revealing a room filled with exactly what we were looking for: weapons.

As we stepped inside, the cold, clinical atmosphere hit me again, sending a shiver down my spine. The room was packed with high-tech gear, but something else caught our attention—devices that were clearly designed for something far darker. Among the weapons were what could only be described as mutant torture devices.

Wade walked up to one of the shelves and picked up a metal collar, holding it up for us to see.

"Well, would you look at that," he said, his tone oddly light for the situation. "This little beauty is just like the one they slapped on me in mutant prison. Suppressed my powers, brought back my cancer... good times."

He tossed the collar back onto the shelf with a nonchalant shrug, but the tension in the room was thick.

As Wade continued to joke, I scanned the room, my eyes drawn to something at the far end. My heart skipped a beat when I saw it—a stick, simple yet ominous, displayed on a pedestal. The label read Scepter. I moved closer, my breath catching in my throat as memories rushed back.

This was the same scepter that once held the gem—the very gem that had given me my powers. But the gem was gone now, leaving only the empty stick behind. I stared at it, the familiarity of the place washing over me like a cold wave. The smell, the sterile environment, the instruments—it all clicked.

"This is one of Strucker's warehouses," I whispered to myself, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut.

Logan and Wade turned to me, sensing the change in my demeanor. "What did you say?" Logan asked, stepping closer.

I tore my eyes away from the scepter, my voice steadier now. "This place... it belongs to Strucker. He used it for his experiments. This scepter... it was part of how I got my powers."

Wade frowned, his usual humor gone. "So we're standing in the middle of one of that psycho's old labs? Great, just when I thought this place couldn't get any creepier."

I nodded, trying to steady my racing thoughts. "We need to get out of here—and fast. But first, let's make sure this place is destroyed so no one else can use it."

As the realization of where we were sank in, I turned to Logan and Wade, determination hardening my voice. "Stay back," I ordered, stepping away from the group. "I'm going to make sure this place is wiped off the map."

Wade's eyes widened as he realized what I was about to do. "Whoa, whoa, hold up!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "My boss wants the weapons, remember? We can't just blow everything to hell!"

I paused, glancing at Wade with a mix of frustration and urgency. "These weapons... they're not just dangerous, they're connected to something far worse. Strucker's experiments, the scepter—it's all part of it. We can't let anyone else get their hands on this stuff."

Wade scratched his head, clearly torn. "Okay, I get that, but the big guy is gonna be pissed if we leave here empty-handed. Can't you just blow up the creepy torture devices and leave the shiny toys for him?"

I considered it for a moment, my gaze drifting back to the scepter and the other weapons. I knew Wade had a point, but the thought of leaving any trace of this place intact made my skin crawl.

"Fine," I relented, my voice tight. "I'll take out the worst of it, but we're not leaving anything that could hurt anyone else."

Logan nodded in agreement, stepping back to give me space. Wade sighed, clearly still unhappy but resigned. "Alright, just don't take out the whole building. I'm not in the mood to explain that kind of mess to my boss."

I focused my energy, feeling the familiar surge of power within me. With a controlled burst, I directed it at the medical beds, the restraints, and the devices meant for torturing mutants. Each one exploded into pieces, leaving nothing but scorched metal and debris behind.

Once I was satisfied, I turned back to the others. "Let's grab whatever weapons we can salvage and get out of here before anyone else shows up." Wade gave me a thumbs up, clearly relieved. "Now that's the kind of compromise I can get behind."

After salvaging what we could from the warehouse and ensuring the rest was nothing but rubble, we headed back to the taxi. As soon as we approached, Logan slipped back into his usual spot in the front seat, his expression dark and brooding. He didn't say a word, just stared straight ahead with that familiar scowl on his face.

I sighed, sliding into the backseat next to Wade. It was like the tension from earlier hadn't dissipated at all—if anything, it felt even thicker now. Logan's silence was practically deafening, and I could feel the distance he was putting between us.

Wade, sensing the shift, leaned back with a dramatic sigh. "Well, wasn't that just a delightful little field trip? Nothing like a good warehouse raid to bring everyone closer together," he quipped, though his eyes flicked to Logan with a hint of curiosity. Logan just grunted, not even acknowledging Wade's attempt at lightening the mood. The taxi began to move, and I found myself glancing at Logan's rigid posture, wondering what was really going on in his head.

Wade, never one to let things sit quietly, leaned over and whispered to me, "Y'know, for a guy who just survived a mutant torture lab, he sure knows how to hold a grudge."

I forced a small smile, but the weight of the evening hung heavy on me. Logan was still pulling away, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on beneath the surface—something that went beyond just the mission.

As the taxi sped through the night, I stared out the window, lost in thought, trying to figure out how to break through that wall Logan had built around himself.

⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿⦿

We pulled up to our building, the taxi coming to a stop in front of the entrance. Logan was out of the car before it even fully stopped, his strides long and determined as he made his way inside without a word. Wade and I lingered behind, watching him go, the tension between us heavy.

As Logan disappeared into the building, I turned to Wade, the weight of the evening pressing down on me. "Can I sleep at your place tonight?" I asked, my voice quieter than usual. Wade shot me a look, a mix of sympathy and exasperation. "Nope," he said flatly, shaking his head.

I frowned, not expecting that answer. "Why not?"

He gave me a small, knowing smile. "Because you need to talk to him," Wade said, his tone surprisingly gentle for him. "You can't keep avoiding whatever this is between you two. It's just gonna keep festering if you don't deal with it."

I sighed, the thought of confronting Logan weighing heavily on me. "He won't even look at me, Wade. How am I supposed to talk to him?"

Wade shrugged, his usual nonchalance returning. "That's for you to figure out. But trust me, hiding out at my place isn't gonna fix anything. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I've got plans tonight. Important, superhero-y stuff."

I couldn't help but chuckle despite the situation. "Fine," I muttered, knowing he was right, even if I wasn't ready to admit it.

Wade patted me on the shoulder. "Go on, V. It'll be fine. You've faced way worse than a grumpy Wolverine."

With a resigned sigh, I nodded and turned toward the entrance, steeling myself for whatever conversation awaited me inside. I walked into the apartment, the door closing softly behind me. The space was dimly lit, the quiet almost unnerving after the chaos of the mission. As I stepped further inside, Logan emerged from the bathroom, drying his hands with a towel. He didn't even glance in my direction, his focus fixed on the kitchen as he walked past me without a word.

The silence between us felt heavy, thick with unspoken tension. I stood there for a moment, watching him as he moved around the kitchen, his movements deliberate and controlled, as if he were doing everything in his power to avoid acknowledging my presence.

Taking a deep breath, I decided that Wade was right—I couldn't let this go on any longer. I had to say something, to break through the wall Logan had put up between us.

"Logan," I called out softly, my voice sounding almost tentative in the stillness of the room.

He paused for a fraction of a second but didn't turn around, continuing to busy himself with whatever he was doing. My heart sank a little, but I wasn't going to let him shut me out.

"Logan," I said again, more firmly this time, taking a step closer to him. "We need to talk."

Logan didn't turn around as I spoke. Instead, he kept his back to me, his hands gripping the edge of the counter. "I have nothing to say to you," he muttered, his voice low and tense.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I felt my heart lurch in my chest, pounding so hard it felt like it might burst right out. My nerves were a tangled mess, like I was standing in front of a caged animal, unsure when—or if—it was going to lash out. The air between us was thick with tension, and I could barely breathe under the weight of it. But I knew I couldn't back down now, no matter how much fear twisted inside me. This wasn't just about what happened tonight—this was about everything that had been building up between us, all the things left unsaid.

Taking a shaky breath, I forced myself to step closer, my voice trembling but determined.

"Maybe you don't, but I do. We can't keep pretending this isn't happening, Logan. You can't keep shutting me out."

Before I could say more, Logan spun around, his eyes wild, blazing with a fury I hadn't seen in a long time. "What the hell were you thinking?" he growled, his voice rough and barely restrained.

The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming.

"You weren't careful! You could've been killed!"

I stared at him, stunned by the force of his words. "Logan, I'm fine. It was just a bullet—"

"Just a bullet?" he cut me off, his voice rising to a roar that echoed off the walls. "This isn't a joke, Violet! You need to be more fucking careful!"

His words hit me like a physical blow, the sheer intensity of his anger sparking my own. After days of silence, he chose now to finally speak? To break the silence by yelling at me? My blood boiled, the frustration of the past week bubbling over.

"Why the fuck are you yelling at me!?" I snapped back, my voice sharp enough to cut through steel. "I wasn't being reckless—I know what I'm doing. And where do you get off ignoring me for a days and then suddenly acting like you care?"

Logan's fists clenched at his sides, his entire body coiled tight with barely restrained emotion. His eyes burned with something raw, something dangerous. "I couldn't stand it," he bit out, his voice thick with emotion. "Seeing him all over you, touching you like that... It made me fucking furious."

I blinked, confusion and anger battling within me. "Wait- you're mad because of some guy? Logan, I was just flirting. It's not a big deal!"

He let out a harsh, bitter laugh, his hands running through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "Not a big deal? Violet, it was driving me insane watching him put his hands on you. And you... you were just letting him."

The accusation in his voice was like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from my lungs. My heart raced as I tried to make sense of his words. "Logan, we're not together. I didn't think... I didn't know you'd care."

He turned away from me, pacing like a caged animal, as if trying to rein in the storm raging inside him. But when he turned back, the look in his eyes made my heart stutter. They were wild, desperate, filled with a longing that terrified and thrilled me all at once.

"Of course, I care!" he burst out, his voice cracking with frustration. "You think it's easy for me to just sit there and watch that? I've been trying to keep my distance, trying not to let this... this thing between us get to me. But I can't. I can't hold it in anymore."

His words crashed over me like a tidal wave, leaving me breathless, my mind reeling. "Logan..."

He stepped closer, the space between us charged with a dangerous energy, his voice dropping to a rough whisper that sent shivers down my spine.

"I'm jealous, Violet. I hate seeing other men look at you like that, touch you like that. It makes me want to tear them apart. But I've been trying to hold it in because... because you deserve better than that. Better than me."

I couldn't stop the sob that tore from my throat as his words sank in, my heart pounding in my chest. I reached out, my hand trembling as I placed it against his chest, feeling the rapid, frantic beat of his heart beneath my palm.

"Logan, you don't have to push me away. I didn't realize how you felt... but I care about you too. More than I've been willing to admit."

His eyes softened, the anger and frustration bleeding away, replaced by something tender and raw. "You do?" he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice nearly undoing me.

I nodded, a small, trembling smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, I do. And I don't want to keep pretending I don't."

The air between us shifted, charged with a tension that was no longer filled with anger and jealousy but something far more intense. Logan's hand cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek as he leaned in, his breath hot against my skin. When his lips met mine, the kiss was a storm of desperation, need, and unspoken feelings, a collision of emotions that had been building for far too long.

The world around us dissolved, leaving only the two of us lost in the overwhelming intensity of the moment. His lips moved against mine with a fierceness that took my breath away, his hands gripping my waist as if he was afraid to let go. I melted into him, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as if I could fuse us together, as if I could drown in the wild storm that was Logan.

When we finally pulled back, gasping for air, our foreheads resting against each other, Logan's eyes were dark with emotion, his voice rough with need as he whispered, "I don't want to see you with anyone else, Violet. You're mine. And I'm yours."

I looked up at him, my heart swelling with a fierce, undeniable emotion as I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm yours, Logan," I whispered back, my voice filled with a certainty that left no room for doubt. "And you're mine."

The words between us lingered, heavy with a promise neither of us could resist. Logan's eyes were dark, a storm of emotions swirling within them—desire, need, and something far deeper that made my breath catch. The space between us felt electric, charged with a tension that had been building for far too long. My heart pounded in my chest, my pulse quickening as his hands, rough and urgent, traced the curve of my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies were flush against each other.

Without a word, Logan's hand found mine, his grip firm yet trembling with barely contained desire as he led me toward his bedroom. Each step was a battle against the overwhelming need that consumed us both, the air thick with anticipation. The moment we crossed the threshold, it was as if a dam had burst. Logan's mouth crashed down on mine with a force that stole my breath away, his lips demanding and possessive, claiming what he had fought so hard to deny.

My back hit the wall with a thud, but I barely registered the impact. All I could feel was him—his hands, rough and calloused, roaming over my body with a desperation that made my knees go weak. The scent of him, that intoxicating mix of leather, pine, and something uniquely Logan, filled my senses, making my head spin. I breathed him in, my mind clouded by the sheer force of my desire for him. It was more than just attraction; it was an obsession, a craving that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

"Violet," he growled against my lips, his voice thick with desire, sending a shiver down my spine. His hands slid down my thighs, lifting me effortlessly as he pressed me against the wall, his body pinning me in place. The raw strength in his grip made me feel small, vulnerable in a way that was intoxicating. He wasn't just touching me; he was consuming me, every stroke of his hand, every press of his lips setting my skin on fire.

I could barely think, my mind clouded by the sheer force of my desire for him. I had never seen Logan like this, so unrestrained, so utterly lost in his need. And it thrilled me. My pulse raced as he carried me to the bed, his lips never leaving mine, the kiss growing deeper, more desperate with every passing second. By the time we reached the bed, my entire body was trembling with anticipation, my skin flushed with a heat that only he could satisfy.

The moment we hit the bed, the world around us ceased to exist. Logan tore at my suit, his hands trembling with a need so fierce it left me breathless. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—only a primal urgency that matched my own. My suit fell to the floor in a tangle, and when Logan finally discarded the last of his own, I gasped, my eyes widening in shock as I took in the sight of him.

He was big—bigger than I had imagined, his dick thick and veiny, the sight of it sending a rush of heat through my body. My breath caught in my throat, my heart racing as I stared, unable to tear my eyes away. The sheer size of him was intimidating, yet undeniably arousing, and I could feel my body responding, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Logan noticed my reaction, and a slow, knowing smirk spread across his lips. "Like what you see?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. I swallowed hard, my cheeks flushing with a mix of arousal and embarrassment.

"You're... you're huge," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breathless gasp.

His smirk widened, a flash of something dark and primal in his eyes as he stepped closer, his hand cupping my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

"I'm going to make you feel every inch of it, Violet," he promised, his voice rough with desire.

"And you're going to love it." With that, he captured my lips in a searing kiss, his hands gripping my hips as he guided me back onto the bed, his body pressing me into the mattress with a weight that made my heart race. The moment he positioned himself at my entrance, the anticipation was almost too much to bear. My breath hitched as he began to push into me, the stretch intense, almost overwhelming, but the pleasure that followed was indescribable.

"God, you feel so good," Logan groaned, his voice thick with need as he buried himself deeper inside me, filling me completely. The sensation was almost too much, the sheer size of him sending shockwaves through my body, making my back arch off the bed. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back as I tried to adjust to the feeling, but the intensity of it was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

"Fuck, Violet," Logan growled, his voice strained as he began to move, each thrust slow and deliberate, driving me wild with need.

"You feel so right, so perfect." His words sent a jolt of electricity through me, making me clench beneath him, causing him to moan. I could barely think, my mind clouded by the overwhelming pleasure that pulsed through me with every movement. Logan's pace quickened, the force of his thrusts building until the bed beneath us creaked ominously.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice a low, rumbling growl as he watched me with dark, hungry eyes.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this, Violet. Falling apart beneath me." I whimpered at his words, my body responding to his every touch, every thrust from his balls hitting my ass causing me to pull his hair, making him moan.

"That's it baby, just like that", his voice rough and possessive, only made the pleasure more intense. I was losing control, my mind a haze of need and desire, and all I could focus on was him—his scent, his touch, the way he filled me completely, as if we were made to fit together.

"Logan," I gasped, my voice breaking as I felt the tension coil tighter within me, threatening to snap at any moment. I could barely form the words, my mind consumed by the intensity of what he was doing to me. He was driving me insane, his pace punishing, and I could feel the bed straining under the force of our passion, the frame creaking ominously.

"Don't hold back," Logan urged, his voice rough with command as he thrust into me harder, deeper, his grip on my hips tightening.

"I want to hear you, Violet. I want the whole fucking w- world to know you're mine." His words pushed me more into my edge.

With a cry that tore from the depths of my soul, I shattered, my body convulsing around him as the waves of pleasure crashed over me, stealing my breath, my thoughts, everything. The world around me blurred, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the orgasm that ripped through me, leaving me trembling and weak beneath him.

As Logan neared his own release, I could feel the tension in his body coil tighter, the muscles in his back and shoulders flexing as he drove into me with a force that was almost brutal. His breath was hot and ragged against my skin, each thrust more desperate than the last. And then, just as he was on the brink, I felt it—the unmistakable sensation of his claws extending, his grip tightening on my hips as he lost control. The sharp tips of his claws brushed against my skin, not cutting, but a reminder of the raw power he held.

"Fuck, Violet... I can't—" Logan groaned, his voice raw, and with one final, shuddering thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, his release tearing through him like a storm. He came inside my pussy, filling it all up. The force of it sent shockwaves through both of us, and with a loud, splintering crack, the bed beneath us gave way, collapsing under the sheer intensity of our lovemaking.

We tumbled onto the floor in a tangle of limbs, the sudden drop knocking the breath from my lungs. But neither of us could stop the laughter that bubbled up in the wake of our passion, a wild, breathless sound that filled the room, mingling with the ragged gasps of air we both struggled to take.

Logan rolled over, pulling me into his arms, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The claws retracted as he held me close, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering against my skin.

"I think we broke the bed," he said, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and disbelief. I laughed, a sound filled with exhaustion and contentment as I curled into him, my body still humming from the aftermath of our passion.

"I guess we did."

For a long moment, we lay there, tangled together on the broken bed, the aftermath of our passion leaving us both breathless and spent. But even as the world around us slowly came back into focus, the intensity of what had just happened lingered in the air, a reminder of the raw, unfiltered need that had driven us to this point.

Logan pressed another kiss to my forehead, his lips tender as he whispered, "You're mine, Violet. And I'm never letting you go." I smiled, my heart swelling with a fierce, undeniable emotion as I pressed a soft kiss to his chest, breathing in the scent of him that I was so obsessed with—the scent that was now forever linked with the memory of this night.

"And I'm never letting you go, Logan. Not ever. "And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of us, bound together by a love so intense and fulfilling.

The bed lay broken beneath us, the aftermath of our passion evident in the shattered frame and the wild, tangled sheets. But as the haze of desire began to fade, a gentle calm settled over us. Logan's breath was still heavy, his body a warm, solid presence beside me, but his fierce intensity had softened into something tender and protective.

After a moment passed, Logan shifted, careful not to move too quickly, his hands gliding over my body with a gentleness that was in stark contrast to the wildness of moments before.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and filled with concern as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face.

I nodded, still catching my breath, my body humming with the lingering echoes of our lovemaking. "I'm more than okay," I whispered, my voice soft but filled with the truth of it.

Despite the intensity, despite the overwhelming force of what we'd just shared, I felt safe with him, cherished. But Logan wasn't satisfied with just my words. His eyes, those deep, expressive eyes that had held so much fire, now scanned my face, searching for any signs of discomfort.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice was laced with a vulnerability that tugged at my heart.

"No," I assured him, reaching up to cup his face, my thumb brushing gently over his cheek. "You didn't hurt me, Logan. You never could."

His shoulders visibly relaxed, the tension easing as he let out a breath he'd been holding. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back to look at me again.

"I'm going to take care of you," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet determination.

Gently, Logan untangled our limbs, his hands sliding beneath me as he lifted me effortlessly into his arms. Despite the broken bed and the chaotic state of the room, he moved with purpose, carrying me to the bathroom with a tenderness that made my heart swell. The scent of him, still strong and intoxicating, surrounded me, comforting in its familiarity.He set me down on the edge of the tub, his hands lingering on my hips for a moment as he looked at me, his eyes filled with a warmth that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Just sit tight," he whispered before he turned to run the water, testing it with his hand until it was just the right temperature.

As the water filled the tub, he returned to me, His touch was reverent, as if he were handling something precious, and I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the way he cared for me.

Once the tub was ready, Logan helped me in, the warm water enveloping me in a soothing embrace. He slid in behind me, pulling me back against his chest, his arms wrapping around me as we settled into the warmth. The tension in my muscles began to melt away, replaced by a profound sense of peace.

Logan's hands moved in slow, gentle circles over my shoulders and back, massaging away any lingering aches. His touch was so tender, so full of love, that I felt a lump form in my throat. I leaned back against him, closing my eyes as I let the sensation of his hands, the warmth of the water, and the steady beat of his heart against my back wash over me.

"You're so good to me," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

"You deserve it," Logan replied, his voice rough with emotion.

"After everything... you deserve this." We stayed like that for a long while, the room filled with the soft sound of water and the steady rhythm of our breathing. Logan's hands never stopped moving, tracing soothing patterns along my skin, his touch grounding me in the here and now. I felt completely at ease, completely safe in his arms.

When the water began to cool, Logan helped me out, wrapping me in a thick, warm towel before drying himself off. He led me back to His bedroom—or what was left of it—with a soft chuckle at the sight of the broken bed.

"Looks like we'll need to get a new one," he said with a grin, but there was no regret in his voice, only satisfaction.

"We'll just sleep in mine," I said with a smile.

We walked into my bedroom, and I slipped into bed first. Once I was settled, he joined me, sliding in beside me and pulling the blankets over us. As he wrapped me in his arms, I felt the warmth of his embrace, a sense of comfort washing over me. I nestled into his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of him as he held me close. His hand stroked my hair, his fingers combing through the damp strands with a tenderness that made my heart ache with love.

"Sleep, Violet," he whispered, his voice low and soothing."I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." And with those words, a deep sense of peace washed over me.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of us, cocooned in the warmth of each other's embrace. As sleep began to claim me, the last thing I felt was Logan's lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head, a silent promise of his unwavering love and protection. In his arms, I knew I was safe. And as I drifted off, wrapped in the comfort of his care, I knew that no matter what, we would face whatever came our way—together.

Part 8: COMMITMENT

#deadpool and wolverine #fanfic #deadpool #logan howlett #wolverine #marvel #x men #wade wilson #hugh jackman #logan howlett x reader #tumblr fyp

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dreamyblossommwrites · 3 months ago

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I remember reading Bakugou x Tomuras little sister reader fanfic when I was younger and I just cant get this trope out of my head now :((((

! Tiny bitsy spoiler about the UA traitor !

!Fem reader!

Imagine your Tomuras younger sibling, taking care of Lovs buissnes from behind the scene. Making sure missions went right, helping your master with nomu production and and recruiting new members to the league. You liked your role. You liked your life. Even though it was full of blood and violence from an early age. Because you had your brother. And he had you. He could be cold and cruel around others, but whenever you were alone, he was the most caring older brother you could ever have. Whenever you had some free time, you watched movies together, played games, and talked... Like a normal family.

Everything changed when the main league team was formed and AFO decided to send you to UA. You were supposed to make sure the traitor you sent there didnt turn on you. Easy job, really.

That's what you thought.

Making friends at UA was easy. No wonder, since you've been practicing adapting your personality to a given person all your life. Considering what work you did outside of UA on a daily basis. There was only one- well, two issues that you had with the whole mission.

One, you practically don't see your brother now. In the morning until the afternoon you are at school and then you fulfill your duties in the league. There is no time to sit down and talk to the only family member you have.

And two, There's someone here who doesn't buy your kindness. At first, the blonde just glanced at you from his seat in the classroom. Your new friend - Mina - couldn't stop joking about how he probably liked you. Which only enraged him more.

But you knew it wasn't that kind of a glance.

And he knew you knew he was suspicious of you

His suspicion only worsened when the students learned that there was a traitor among them.

He started pairing up with you at every field training with heros. It didn't help with keeping an eye on Ayoama at all,but you have to play along.

Now, you were listening to instructions about public safety from one of the hero-teachers.

Even though there was no requirement to break into groups or pairs for this lesson, you could feel the boy staring at your back. You glanced back at him, then you looked back to the front. Taking two steps back to get closer to him, you whispered "If you keep looking at me like that, I'll seriously start to think you like me." Even though you stand with your back to him, you can imagine the angry look on his present on his face. "I wouldn't touch you with a stick" He barked back in a whisper. You could only quietly laugh at this comment knowing that the spiky-haired boy was only getting more annoyed. "Whats so fucking funny?" He asked. "Oh I dont know.... Meybe the fact you think I would let you get anywhere near me in the first place? I don't date hooligans" You covered your mouth with your hand to stop laughing. You feel him leaning over your ear.

"I don't date criminals."

Up until now you were just playing with him. You were you laughed in his face. But now? He has your full attention. You turned to him with your eyes wide open, shocked of how fast he worked out why youre here. You knew he would be the first one to find out, but you hoped he would take more time. You snorted under your breath. "Criminal? Where did this came from? It would be hard to get a girlfriend if you you assume the worst about everyone-"

"Cut the crap, woman. We both know youre not here for that......You're not here to be a hero either. But just so you know, If you try to do anything that in some way will make my way to becoming a pro longer, I will get you, and you will regret ever meeting me." He interrupted you and then looked back at the hero who was still speaking, pretending to listen. "We will see about that." You said, also looking at the hero.

This will be good.

Reblogs appreciated!!!

Pls dont flop😭

#new account #x reader #bnha #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha #mha spoilers #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fem reader

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tkwrites · 6 months ago

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i feel like Sarah has very strong feelings about the Harrison Butker drama. 🥲

i know i certainly do !!

She certainly does.

When the video starts making the rounds, she sends it to Quinn with the message, Just letting you know, if you feel this way, we need to be done.

He sees the message after a 2nd round practice and immediately flips out and calls her.

“Hey.”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me when you just threatened to break up.”

“I…didn’t?” she asks hesitantly, unsure of what he was talking about.

“You just sent me a message. ‘We need to be done?’”

“Quinn, did you read the whole message?”

“I…” he pauses, clicking it back open, “no. I see that now. But what is this?”

“Did you watch the video?”

“No.”

“Watch the video, then call me back,” she says before hanging up.

So he does, grimacing the whole time it’s playing. His mother taught him better than this asshat.

When she answers, he cuts in before she can even say hello, “Harrison Butker is an asshole.”

She giggles.

“Why would you even think I might feel like that? Have I ever made you feel that way?”

“No.”

“Then why would you threaten to breakup?”

“I didn’t threaten to break up with you, Quinn.”

“Your message says, ‘if you feel this way, we need to be done.’”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“How else could you mean it? You know I don’t feel like that. You’ve met my mom.”

“I know…” this was not going the way she thought it would. Truth be told, part of her had wondered if he felt a little like this just by virtue of his job and the people he was around.

“I mean,” shit. Now what was supposed to be something funny was turning into something far more serious. “I guess I just mean, I know in the pro sports world this is a really common view.”

He hums, understanding sparking, “I know some of the guys feel that way,” he says, “but I don’t, and I hope I never gave you that impression.”

“You didn’t, not really. I think it was mostly wondering how much of it had rubbed off, you know?”

He didn’t know. You couldn’t grow up with a woman like Ellen Weinberg as your mother and not have some pretty feminist views. She talked to them often about how much she wanted to play pro sports, but couldn’t by her virtue of being a woman, and that women and girls were just as smart and athletic and worthy of respect as men.

“Sarah, I know pro sports are pretty misogynistic, but you know me and you know my mom and you know I don’t feel that way. You have way more potential than just being,” he has to stop himself from saying my, “a wife, and mom. You’re smart and I love that about you, and if this asshat said this at your graduation, I’d seriously consider punching him in the face.”

She giggles, and he can hear tears in her voice.

“Where’s Huggy?” someone asks on the other side of the door to the room he’d closed himself in. Some kind of office, maybe.

“I have to go,” he said, “but I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Before she can talk herself out of it, she messages Ellen, Just want to say thanks for raising a good man.

This was written in about 15 minutes, so please forgive any mistakes or tonal inconsistencies with the rest of the series.

I loved writing out this little blurb, and making Quinn the feminist hero of my dreams. I hope you enjoy it, too.

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #tkanswers 📮

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theladyheroine · 9 months ago

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Unexpected OTP Pairings ✨

❥ Okay I know Valentine’s Day was last week! Almost two weeks ago! But recently I’ve been wanting to branch out a bit with my blog writing, & writing prompts are something I love a lot! So, I’m trying something new & came up with a few OTP ideas! I hope you enjoy, thank you & have fun!

❥ F x M writing prompts! I didn't specify who is who though so everyone can read!

Former! Villain x Superhero

Not even a real villain, just some dumb person who steals things or who makes evil schemes that always fail. Kind of like Dr. Doofenshmirtz, & they’re actually really nice in real life! But when a superhero comes to stop them, they instantly fall in love! Seriously has heart eyes & doesn't pay any attention to the hero’s grand pre-fight speech.

Or doesn’t put up a fight at all, just hands them the stolen goods & escapes. Leaving Hero completely confused as the Villain they were supposed to stop didn’t even bother fighting, which is still good but they’re still confused.

After this, the Villain now decides to become a Superhero!! To not only impress their new crush but also because they've always really wanted to be one anyways! It was just the push they needed.

Cue them now running the streets in a completely different outfit trying their best to stop the bad guys! Usually, it doesn’t end well though: they’ll trip over the air & let them escape, or maybe just show up late to the fight & it’s already over.

It’s even worse when their Hero crush joins the fray, and then they’re really clumsy or just start sputtering like an old car. Their former henchmen, now turned sidekicks, try to console them as they lay on the couch completely embarrassed by their feats.

Oooooor, they are super confident & much better at being a superhero than they ever were being a Villain. Maybe this confidence goes to their head a bit & will literally try flirting with Hero on the battlefield! Hero gets a bit embarrassed sometimes & their other super-friends tease them about it. If this does happen, Hero might end up trying to run away from the former Villain in an effort to focus on their job. But it just ends up being really funny to watch.

Bonus: They have opposite powers or maybe one has no powers at all.

Dashing Thief x Friendly! Detective

I'm sorry this one is a bit short!

A notorious thief with a heart of gold who only ever steals from bad guys & acts more as a Robin Hood character than any. Hardly ever keeps anything for themselves; just struts around after dark on the lookout for anything suspicious. Not one person has been able to catch them & their identity remains a mystery. Would be cool if they were a nobleman/woman or had some kind of big fancy hideout.

The detective is actually their friend/partner (maybe)! The good egg who actually sees the thief’s true intentions instead of just mucking around in a Halloween costume. Although they're pretty ticked at the way Thief does things, they usually keep their coworkers & the boss off Thief's trail. Maybe a newbie or an intern at the detective agency, determined to prove themselves on the field.

Maybe they met as civilians & the thief switched to a disguise to hide from authorities, but bumped into the detective who was out on a coffee break. It was love at first sight for both of them, so cute! 😆 They do a lot of coffee dates now, but sometimes Detective overdoes it.....

One is the brains, and the other is the brawn. Together they can get any job done! The Detective’s coworkers find it strange how the Thief shows up more often when they're specifically on the job. The Boss is suspicious but sometimes finds them cute.

Often swing by each other’s places to not only hangout but help each other with cases or special kinds of info. If the Thief has any sidekicks, no doubt they’ll spill funny stories of missions gone wrong or close calls.

Stealing each other's hats and impersonating the other one for fun, then cue a playful chase scene around the room! So cute!

Dragon x Wizard

I know some people like fantasy stuff!

A dragon is resting in their cave until they hears footsteps at the entrance. But instead of finding a grumpy old knight, they find a wizard! Maybe the Wizard was exploring the caves nearby or on a journey to the next town, but instead of feeling scared or angry, they started fangirling/fanboying over the dragon instead! 😆

Likes to ask them all sorts of questions & sometimes can’t stop talking. Now Wizard can come whenever they like & the two become friends!

The Wizard visits whenever they can, showing off all sorts of new spells or potions they've created. Even though it might not be as impressive as their fire, the Dragon still finds it cool & applauds.

The Dragon will always try to impress their wizard friend with tall tales of each piece of treasure. How they got it, where they found it, if they fought anyone over it, etc. But sometimes those stories are exaggerated…

The Wizard will be in absolute awe at the Dragon’s stories & can’t help but be a complete chatterbox about it. Asking more questions about different things like how their magic works, how they can fly with all that extra weight, or if they can learn a fire-breathing spell from them instead—

If the Wizard lives in a tower then the Dragon will visit just as frequently! Usually it’s in the early morning or during sundown when there are fewer people around. But if the Wizard lives in a town or city, it might take some time for the Dragon to come around. It’s not that they don’t care, but dragons are more solitary creatures. Either way, they enjoy each other's company & the dragon likes to ask questions about different thingamabobs on the Wizard's shelves.

They can both be pretty clingy but that’s sometimes a bit tough to handle because the poor wizard has to be extra careful, especially with pouring bottles or waving their wand around if they’re not even two feet apart. Doesn’t mind but sometimes will complain a bit if their partner won’t stay cooperate.

Extra Duo!

Since I loved the superhero one a lot I thought of another one: what if a Hero’s Sidekick & a Villain’s Henchman fall in love!

The Henchman does end up giving Sidekick any tips about their next plan. Cue the Villain throwing a tantrum in their lair wondering why the Hero is always one step ahead of them. 😅

They like to hangout in civilian settings together! Bonus if they found out their secret identities on accident lol

Extra Bonus if the Henchman or both villains become heroes at the end!

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bluecollarmcandtf · 1 year ago

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Happy Birthday, Babe

Getting attention on your birthday has never been your thing. You prefer to celebrate with a quiet day to yourself. After a productive morning at the gym, you throw in the towel, and lock eyes with Jeff. He's on his hands and knees, crawling directly towards you...

"What the hell!" you gasp, "Dude get up!"

Jeff is your straight friend from college. The two of you go way back. In fact, he's the one who got you into working out in the first place. You'd even admit that you had a crush on him once. It's hard not to when he keeps himself in such good shape, but he's a classic lady's man. He knows about your sexuality, but he hates talking about it with you.

And now he's doing the most sensual crawl on all fours towards you, the muscles of his back rippling as he stares daggers into your soul. What the hell is he thinking? The entire gym can see him!

"Hey, sir," he pants as he catches his breath below you.

"Jeff, get off the floor. This isn't funny."

"But why, sir? This is how men are supposed to talk to you," he explains, looking genuinely confused.

"Why the hell are you calling me 'sir' Jeff?"

You snort in disbelief. What the hell is any of this supposed to mean? Your old friend has to be pulling a joke on you, but he's not the kind of guy to tease you like this. Something about this feels wrong, but you can't deny that seeing Jeff like this is getting you a hard.

Your phone starts ringing. Reluctantly you turn from Jeff, leaving the man to wait on his knees patiently as you answer the phone. It's your boyfriend Andrew, an ex-superhero. He got kicked out of the League of Heroes for misusing his abilities. You immediately suspect he's the one behind this weird conversation with Jeff.

"Happy birthday, babe!" your boyfriend screams over the line.

"Andrew, what did you do?"

"Why are you acting so mad?" Andrew whines back, "This is my gift for your birthday. Your going to love it! For the next twenty-four hours every man in town will think it's normal to get down and kneel when they talk to you. Hot, right?"

"So everyone's like this? Really?"

You storm past Jeff, abandoning your buddy on his knees in the middle of the gym, and rush outside.

"Yup! What's the point of having reality-altering powers if I can't use them as your birthday gift. And feel free to cause whatever mischief you want! These guys are going to be completely submissive and respectful to you once they drop to their knees."

"Andrew, what am I supposed to do with this?" you shake your head.

"Just remember that everything you command is permanent! Have fun!"

With that, your boyfriend hangs up. You stand in the street for a moment, gathering your thoughts and wondering how you're supposed to "have fun." Then you notice the construction site next door. Those assholes have been blocking the main entrance to the gym with their trucks for weeks, but they haven't made any progress. Every time you've seen them, they've just been lounging around and cracking jokes instead of working.

"Hey you!" you call, stepping up to a worker as he smokes a cigarette by a pile of rubble.

When he turns his attention to you, a haze seemed to fall over his eyes. The burly laborer lowers himself to his knees and gazes up to you.

"Yeah, sir?"

"Right, um... you're not going to smoke anymore. It's unhealthy."

"I'll quit smoking, sir," he replies, throwing the thing in the dirt, and mashing it out with a gloved fist.

"And you need to work faster," you demand awkwardly, "I'm tired of looking at this eye-sore every morning!"

"Yes, sir. We really haven't been taking this job very seriously," he admits, "Let me find the contractor. I'll try and convince him to get everyone to get back to work."

"Just bring them all to me," you command.

"You all will work tirelessly to get this job done as soon as you can. Got it?" you yell to the group of construction workers kneeling in front of you, "Overtime, weekends, anything, I don't care. Get it done!"

"Yes, sir!" the men answer in unison.

You gaze at the small crowd of obedient laborers kneeling at your feet. Andrew's gift has sure made them docile. These guys seemed so rude and harsh before. The women in the gym were definitely scared to cross by alone. It'd be nice if they stayed as nice and complacent as they are now.

"You all are going to be respectful and kind to anyone that passes. Instead of the catcalls and nasty comments, you'll only shout out compliments and words of encouragement. Now, get back to work."

"Yes, sir!" the men once again bark in unison, before jumping up from their knees and scrambling to their posts.

For the first time in weeks, the machinery is actually on and being used. They seem focused on the tasks at hand, which is very different from the lazy and rude men you avoided this morning. It looks like you actually did some good with your boyfriend's gift.

Hopping in your car, you speed downtown until sirens signal for you to pull over.

"Great!" you groan sarcastically.

You watch from your sideview mirror as a handsome man in uniform steps out of the police cruiser. He already has a pen and paper in hand to write you a ticket. He seems awfully excited to reprimand you. Cops like this have always infuriated you.

You don't wait for him to approach. Instead, you jump out of your vehicle and call out to him.

"Hey cop! Hurry up and just get over here!"

The same fog creeps over this man's expression as he hears your call. The officer drops to his knees and crawls across the sidewalk, dragging his neatly ironed pants over the pavement.

"Good morning, sir," he meekly states at your feet, "Um, do you know how fast you were going?"

"No," you scoff, "And I don't frankly care."

The cop clears his throat before saying, "Sir, I'm going to have to give you this ticket."

"No you don't. I don't deserve that."

"Your right, sir," he mumbles in response, " I don't know why I thought you did. Can I be of service in any other way, sir?"

You look at the handsome policeman on his knees. For a second, you consider telling him to strip and bend over. Nothing sounds better than using this arrogant cop to get off, but you hesitate. Andrew may have given you this gift today, but you're not sure you want to abuse it just yet.

"No, just give me an escort to my office. Turn your sirens on."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir," he nods jumping back into his cruiser.

With the blaring sirens and cop car leading your way, you make it to work in record time. Before you dismiss the cop, you step up to his car window and duck your head in.

"If you ever see me out in public again, I want you to approach me and ask if you can give me another police escort. It's the least you can do," you explain.

"I can do that, sir," the officer nods emphatically.

"Oh and, from now on, officer, everyone you pull over is going to irresistibly attractive. It could be an old, fat man, but if he's behind the wheel, you'll fall head over heels. They might just convince you to forget the ticket, but maybe they'll want more. Who knows?"

With a wave of the hand, you send the cop on his way. He won't be able to write tickets for a very long time.

You smile giddily as you turn back to your office building. You may have taken the day off, but your boss is still there. Marching in and up to your company's floor, you find the man yelling at one of your coworkers in the middle of the office.

This is typical behavior for him. He's notorious for being short-tempered, foul-mouthed, and demanding on all his subordinates.

"Boss!"

"Sir," his voice is suddenly quiet as he trembles to his knees.

"Give me a raise. At least triple my salary," you demand.

Your coworkers watch quietly in fascination, but none of them seem all that surprised by your outburst. Andrew really must have made it completely normal for you to speak this way to other men. They all seem to think this is the natural order of things.

"I'd love to, sir, but our budget is maxed out as it is. We just don't have the money," he explains from the floor.

You frown, but then a brilliant idea comes to your head.

"Then trade. I want your salary and benefits, and you can take mine," you explain.

"I can do that, sir," he agrees, "Does that mean you want to take on a more managerial role?"

"Definitely not, old man," you chuckle, "I'll leave that to you. Just give me all the benefits and none of the responsibility. In fact, why don't you pick up the slack in my position. I shouldn't have to come in more than two days a week."

"That makes complete sense, sir," he responds.

"Go ahead and finalize the details," you command, "And give me my first paycheck early. It is my birthday after all."

"Yes, sir. Happy birthday," he smiles before crawling back into his office.

Falling into your chair triumphantly, you think about how your boyfriend has given you quite the best birthday. It's far from over. You have twenty-four hours and you've only spent three. How are you going to spend the rest of the day?

Maybe you should take a few more liberties with the men you are controlling. Andrew did tell you to have fun after all...

#gay hypnosis #mind control #gay mind control #hypno story #reality change

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radioactivepeasant · 2 months ago

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Snippets: Free Day Thursday

As per the poll results, we are giving Damas stress via Just Plain Silliness. It builds character. Not that I needed an excuse to Inconvenience Characters in the first place 😆 it's become my favorite way of writing anything. Not Angst or Adventure, but Aggravation of Character in ridiculous ways 😂

This falls into the Trespasser au (last "episode" of that found HERE) a bit before the second Arena fight in the game.

The king of Spargus, Jak decided, was a killjoy.

For a city where strength and survival were supposed to be the most important traits, he sure didn't like any of Jak's demonstrations of strength or survival.

"You can't race Leapers in the middle of the market."

"Don't swim over the reef."

"Stop antagonizing the monks."

"You can't race Leapers on neighborhood roofs, either."

"If I told you not to swim over the reef, why would you assume I'd be okay with you feeding the sea monster?!'

It was like he was vehemently opposed to the mere concept of fun.

Jak folded his arms and tried not to roll his eyes while Kleiver complained about the scuffed up suspension and undercarriage on the Dune Hopper. Sure, he'd cut it a little close on the broken bridge, but he'd gotten away with the artifacts and left the Marauders in a two car pile up, so who was the winner, here?

Not Jak, apparently.

Damas listened to Kleiver yell about how he'd have to redo the entire suspension -- a gross exaggeration -- and how there was half a metalhead stuck in the undercarriage. Now that, Jak hadn't known about. When had he run over a metalhead?

"Hey! We didn't do that!" Daxter protested, "How do we know you didn't put that there last time you drove?!"

"Because I don't take the Hopper if I plan to do a run down Turquoise Canyon!" Kleiver snapped.

Damas steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and examined the damaged vehicle.

"One of these days, kid, I swear to Volcan-"

"What?! I got the job done, didn't I?" Jak protested indignantly. "Did you want the Marauders to get their hands on a functioning power cell?"

Damas’s jaw tightened so much that his mouth appeared to be folding inward. He inhaled slowly, and let it out again, ears twitching while he was very obviously counting to ten.

"There are no jumps in the canyon," he said slowly, "So how did you manage this?"

Jak shrugged nonchalantly. "The 'rauders chased us out to the ruins," he explained, "Ran out of turbo, so I had to get creative with the jump."

Kleiver started swearing very creatively under his breath. Damas turned an interesting shade of red.

"That does it."

The king grabbed Jak by the channeling ring and near dragged him out of the garage before Kleiver could clobber someone with a wrench.

"One more stunt like that out of you," Damas threatened, "and I'm entering you into an apprenticeship. Let's see you foment chaos with an actual structure in your day."

"You're not gonna do that," Jak scoffed.

Damas’s eyes narrowed. "Try me."

Jak did not take this nearly as seriously as he ought to have. In fact, he seemed to regard the threat as more instances of Damas "worrying too much". Damas did not worry too much! If anything, he wasn't worried enough about the insanity this young unknown relative had brought into his city! More than one advisor or guildmaster had been privy to the king muttering darkly, "I'm either going to kill him, or start training him myself. I'll let you know when I've figured out which."

And of course, Jak kept being Jak. Climbing the Arena walls because he saw a Precursor orb someone had dropped. Messing around with some kind of evil alien satellite on the beach. Inciting other inhabitants of the youth barracks to join foot races in the barrack halls in the dead hours of night. And he seemed to regard all of this as perfectly normal behavior. It was like all the impulses he'd had to shove down in Haven, all the ways he'd had to be perfect to fit under the yoke of that terrible word, hero, everything came crashing down in Spargus. He had almost no limits here, and that kind of freedom seemed to awaken a wildness that was above the paygrade of the dorm supervisor.

It came to the point where Damas was actually allowing the kid to go out into a sandstorm, just to get some of that boundless energy out! It wouldn't have been his first choice. Or even his tenth. But the storm rolling in was much larger than anything else they'd seen that summer. And for all his recklessness, Jak was their fastest driver.

"Four scouts have not reported in," the king told Jak and Daxter. His face was grim. "Two just set off their emergency beacons. At the rate this storm is going-"

He shook his head, cutting off his sentence.

Daxter had worried that Spargus would be another Krew situation at first. But here was the king of the cranky lizard-riders, flipping out because a handful of scouts -- one of the lowest ranks in the city -- weren't accounted for before a deadly storm.

In Haven, their absence wouldn't have even been noticed until roll call.

The old timers in the market were right, weren't they? "King's eyes see all." This guy watched everyone like a hawk, didn't he? Daxter wasn't sure if that bothered him, or if it just reminded him of Jak.

He supposed that was fitting, considering the two were probably related, no matter how in denial Jak seemed to be about being an Heir of Mar.

"Where's the Crawler right now?" Jak asked.

The mobile sandstorm shelter wasn't invincible, but it could take a lot. That would be the scouts' best bet.

Damas looked out the windows, glaring at the dark clouds as though he could hold the storm back by sheer force of will. It took a moment to hear his voice over the water.

"The Crawler is in the steppes at the moment. She's not a fast vehicle, Jak. I need you to get those scouts to either the Crawler or the city."

"I will."

Damas turned a stern look on them both.

"No stunts. These are people's lives we're talking about."

"I know!" Jak sputtered, a little offended. "And I won't bust the car up this time, so Kleiver can give it a rest."

"No. I'm serious, boy," Damas warned, "If it comes down to abandoning the car for shelter or trying to drive in the storm, you leave the car. Do you understand?"

Jak huffed. Damas had seen him outrun sandstorms before! What was so bad about a slightly bigger one?

"I got it, I got it," he grumbled.

Damas glared.

"No. Stunts. You get back here in one piece."

"Okay, I got it already!" Jak groaned.

"Jak-!"

"I know, Dad!" Jak complained.

An instant later his eyes widened.

The water suddenly seemed much louder than usual.

Daxter wasn't even sure any of them were breathing.

Three pairs of dramatically widened eyes darted back and forth between them as silence built up like steam under pressure. It was going to erupt sooner or later, the question was how.

Damas made a very small, strangled noise in the back of his throat.

Jak snapped out of his moment of horrified realization.

"Uh. I'll let you know when everyone is accounted for!"

He pivoted and bolted for the elevator before Damas could see his entire face burn crimson.

A guard at the back of the chamber opened his mouth to comment and in one rushed tangle of syllables Jak hissed,

"Youdidn'thearanything!"

Damas didn't blink for a good two minutes after Jak had left.

He didn't move for a good two minutes.

He stood exactly where he'd been, staring blankly at the empty elevator shaft.

The captain of the tower guard, an older man named Cephus, left his place by the windows to lean into Damas’s peripheral vision. He waved slightly, and the king finally blinked.

"Are you alright, sire?" Cephus asked.

Damas made a curious wheeze before speaking through a groaning inhalation.

"Oh no."

"Hm!" Cephus stroked his long beard. "Guess the wild one imprinted on you! Do I offer congratulations or condolences?"

Damas nodded slowly and stiffly.

"....help."

There could not possibly have been a worse time for the monks to finally send him the results of the blood test.

#fic prompts #writing prompts #free day thursday #jak and daxter #king damas #dadmas #Jak and Daxter au #Trespasser au #Inconveniencing damas for fun and profit #jak thought he was bluffing about apprenticing jak to himself. he was not bluffing.#it was all he could think of to keep jak under somewhat responsible supervision until the dna test got back #he got the 'congratulations its a boy' email right after Jak left and he is Having A Moment right now #damas needs a raise and a vacation #Jak is extremely grounded when he gets back so that his dad can go five minutes without getting new gray hairs

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