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#i thought it would have been a banter like all the other villains

kifkay · 13 hours

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Winx and their Favourite Literary Tropes

Bloom: Found Family. The girl is queer, most likely a fan fiction enjoyer, if not a writer, and has been bullied. She is THE target demographic for this trope.

(plus, she literally went on and created her very own family of Winx)

Musa: Other than the very obvious choice of Your Crush is Mean to Everyone but You (ahem, ahem, Riven), Musa would love the Soulmates trope. It’s very comforting, to believe that there exists a person cosmically tied to you — someone who will have to love you, in spite of your flaws and hurts. Belong to you fully.

Aisha: although Aisha is usually a very calm and compassionate person, I think she would find Revenge narratives cathartic. Let the girlie read about a vengeful princess cutting down her past abusers, she deserves it!

Stella: definitely a romance girlie. I could see her either obsessing over a litany of romantic cliches (Prince in Shining Armour, only One Bed, nursing each other’s wounds (but only in theory, blood is disgusting), forced proximity, enemies to lovers, etc) OR hating them all due to how predictable they are. BUT she would definitely despise any toxic romance tropes Musa seems to love: the Mafia ones, the sunshine x grumpy, the “he’s cold but actually cares”. If both people are not whole-heartedly into each other, she’s not into it.

Flora: she is definitely a fantasy girlie (what is even fantasy for the society of Magix?). Particularly, she loves world-building and lore, brimming with their own unique biomes and freaky little creatures. She also likes Anti-Heroes or Misunderstood Villains. They play on all of her emotional strings.

Tecna: contrary to what you may expect, I don’t think Tecna would like sci-fi very much. What is sci-fi to the majority of the universe, to Zenith is reality. She would most likely find fantastical elements of these books cheesy or over-the-top. Tecna would like Heists: dynamic, fast-paced, high stakes. Puzzle pieces coming together to form a brilliant plan, complete with witty banter and colourful characters.

(I also think she would like Dysfunctional Families. Her parents interacted with her only when necessary; she was an only child. She would be fascinated by messy and tragic interactions between people who should walk away, but just can’t part with each other.)

some other characters I thought of:

Roxy: Supernatural, Talking Animal Companion.

Brandon: Hopelessly Devoted, Mutual Pining, Martyr.

Sky: Reverse Damsel in Distress/Distressed Dude? (the heroine saves his captured ass; he’s into girls that can snap him in half).

Nabu: the Chosen One, the Robin Hood, switch-and-bait.

Helia: long journeys as metaphors for a soul search; tending to the other person’s wounds; cosmic or eldritch horror.

Riven: the Princess and the Peasant, Hero saves the Day, Grumpy Mentor who cares.

Timmy: the Headquarters, Secret World, outsmarting your enemies.

Mirta: a fellow enjoyer of Doomed by the narrative, bonus points if it’s sapphic.

#winx club #winx headcanons #winx #winx bloom #winx brandon #winx flora #winx riven #winx sky #winx specialists #winx stella #winx musa #enchantix #winx rewrite #winx aisha #winx tecna #winx layla #winx helia #winx nabu #winx timmy

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messylustt · 11 months

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I just finished the Miguel fic and its not bested YET my standers are HIGH. With that being said i have a hobie blurb/fic idea

goody reader! who hobie swear he cant stand (he's obssessed)

you angelllll and this scenario for hobie—ugh it lives rent free now THANK YOU my sweet anon

GOODY-TWO-SHOES AND BRITISH PUNK — hobie brown + reader: just hobie pushing away the fact that he’s obsessed with you, by finding your goody nature “annoying”.

marks no warnings. just a bit of banter. wc 1.6k.

When you joined the spider society, everyone thought of you as ‘sweet’ and an all in all ‘do gooder’. Many found it endearing, while Hobie claimed to think the complete opposite.

Even though his mouth was saying things like “ya could ‘ave aimed that web better.” And “maybe try catchin’ the evil guy next time…ay?” His body had always stayed close to you.

He said things regarding your ‘sweetness’, pinning it as ‘no good’, it won’t help being overly sweet while fighting bad guys. And god did you being a little ‘do gooder’ and following the rules piss him off the most.

But even after all those confirmations in his head he found himself looking for you, standing next to you in de-briefs or when a few of you would just hang out. It was always when you were in a group—Hobie was near.

And right now as you listened to Jess speak on the new ‘villain of the week’, you felt a presence beside you. As you glanced to the left you saw Hobie, standing, hands in pockets, as he acted oblivious to his own body’s movements.

He had moved closer to you. In his head he brushed it off as him just making sure you were listening and paying attention to Jess’s words so that you wouldn’t fuck anything up this time. (Not that Hobie ever does pay that much attention himself).

Hobie had never been a nitpicker, but when it came to you he noticed all the details. He could almost tell you your own body’s habits before you even realised them yourself. Like the little nose scrunch you’d do when you were bored. Or the tilt of your head, signalling that you were really trying to listen. Or even the press of your lips, showing that you were just…thinking.

He didn’t pay much attention to his reasons for taking such close notice though. No. Because he's sure that the sole reason (only one) is because you've always annoyed him.

“So please….” Jess is saying. “Please don’t touch any of the guy’s gadgets.”

Then the debrief is over, and you’re getting to your feet, having jumped up onto a ledge. Hobie can’t help but watch as you began to walk towards a portal. “Careful there luv…woul’n’t want you to get ahead of yourself. Maybe ya should stay back this round?” Hobie walks backwards, leaning his head slightly to the side as he moves to the portal.

You press your lips together, eyeing him. What is she thinking about?—Hobie thought to himself, eyeing you back, as he continues to speak. “To be good at ya job, ya gotta loosen up on those rules, ya do know that…right?”

“You say that like you think I’m wound tight.” You say, slowly walking with him—his feet still walking backwards as you walked forward.

He raises a brow. “Aren’t you, luv?” He tongue began to absentmindedly play with his lip ring, dragging it slightly between his teeth as he neared the portal. Then he’s leaning back, and falling through it, you not far behind.

The portal had opened up over a high sky, resulting in you both falling. Hobie tilted his head, watching as you faced each other, skyrocketing down. You spare him a tilt of your head, before your web is attaching to a building as you slip away from his line of sight. And Hobie doesn’t know why but his lips had began to twitch up.

Shooting his own web out, he swung to a stop on the building, where everyone else resided. And of course, he yet again moved closer to you.

Directions were given by Jess as the spider variants all went their separate ways. "Nah, you're comin' with me." Hobie says, grabbing your arm as he pulls you towards the edge of the building. "I thought I bothered you too much..." you mutter more to yourself.

"What was that?" Hobie asks, but you just spare him a "Hm?" before you're web slinging to the next building. Hobie scoffs, copying the action.

Soon you're both swinging past buildings, and when Hobie attaches his web to where yours was gonna go, your face actually displays a slight scowl. Hobie raises his brows—effortlessly swinging backwards. "See...I knew ya were fakin' ya sweetness." Hobie comments through the wind.

"And when were you paying so much attention to me for you to know that?" You call back, slipping past him as your hand slightly brushes his guitar strap. He doesn't like the feeling that crawled up his neck when you brushed so close. He was the one who initiated the closeness, and you having barely touched him made him quickly follow you.

Then you're both swinging almost together, Hobie's gaze stuck on your relaxed posture. "Ya did learn from last time right, luv?" Hobie asks, to which you lazily glance at him.

"That wasn't my fault." You say, slipping through a narrow gap. Hobie went over so as not to scratch his guitar. "Ya can't be that blind...can ya?"

"You know, I've never understood why you act like this." You say, coming to a stop on a lower building and gazing down, spotting the gadget wearing anomaly. Hobie fluidly stops beside you as you both crouched down. But as you stared at the anomaly, Hobie stared at you.

"Act like what?" He asks, feeling a strange urge to pull your mask off. Why did he want to see your expressions when he was talking to you?

You glance at him. "Act like you hate me. Maybe you do...but I just can't pinpoint an exact reason why."

"Aw..." Hobie coos. "Scared not everyone is fallin' for ya goody-two-shoes act?"

"It's not an act. And I am not a goody-two-shoes." You slightly huff out.

"Yeah ya are..." Hobie hums out, almost sounding amused. "You always follow the rules, being a dottin' little helper to Miguel."

You look back to the anomaly. Jess had said to wait, as backup, so you do, trying your best to ignore a now closer hobie. "And you always do that...can't find a reason for it either." You mutter.

"Do what?" Hobie shifts closer. You turn your head, eyeing him. "That. Coming close."

"Maybe I'm scared you might do something overly heroic, just to get into Miguel's good books."

"Hobie being scared? Now that's a first." Hobie's surprised to hear the clear sarcasm in your voice. "And what makes you think I'm trying so hard to get into Miguel's 'good books'?" You ask.

"Ya are always the first to accept missions." Hobie says, and he hopes you don't notice his slight jealous tone. "And Miguel seems rather pleased with that."

"Maybe because I'm doing my job?" You ask, finally glancing at him again. And Hobie can't help but swiftly grab your mask. He wanted to know if you were bored, thinking, or actually listening to him.

"Hobie..." You say, reaching for your mask again. "I need that."

But Hobie just pockets it in his jacket. "Nah, Jess won't need us. She's too prideful and...usually completes missions..." He eyes you like he's hinting at something.

"I'm sorry—but when have I ever not completed a mission?" You have a slight frown on your face. And Hobie grins under his mask, liking seeing your expressions. Especially because he's been able to get new ones, like a frown and a scowl.

"Last week." He answers, fiddling with your mask material in his pocket.

You groan. "I told you, that wasn't my fault."

"Hm..." Hobie's eyes had begun to grow distracted in your moving mouth, noticing the details...yet again. The way they would slightly part when you were confused. You were confused now, so Hobie got a chance to see a fraction of your teeth. Why was he focusing so hard? And maybe if his mask was off, you would see exactly where his gaze was trapped.

"Hobie." You say, noticing he had stayed silent for a little too long. "Hobie." You shuffle closer to knock his shoulder. "Can I have my mask back?"

But he just began to shake his head. "Nah...I think I'll keep it." He then stands, looking down at you. You quickly get to your feet also, eyes narrowed. "Why? I do actually need it."

Hobie just shrugs, feeling thoroughly amused with the whole situation. You go to reach for his pocket, but he easily dodges. "This is really not the time." You mutter, trying again. But Hobie just moves around you.

You then swiftly shoot a web, aiming for the inside of his pocket, but hobie snatches the end, yanking you towards him, making tumble to a stop against his chest. And you can feel the slight rumble of a chuckle, making you quickly stand straight, only for your breath to hitch.

Because now his mask is off, and he's extremely close. Now you can see his eyes dart, fully absorbing your details, and you actually grow to feel a tad nervous. "Can I please have it back?"

"Back to the fake sweetness, are we?" He asks, his gaze now stopping on your lips.

"It's not fake." You mutter out, moving to step back, but Hobie tightens his hold on your web, keeping you still. "What are you doing?" You ask, a slight groan of annoyance edging your tone.

Hobie tilts his head, acting as if he isn't doing anything, as his finger comes out to just brush your collarbone through your suit. You don't know what to do, as you stare at him. He'd never been this close, facing you, at least. He's always been behind you or beside you. And now as his tongue comes out to lick his full lips, you find your gaze getting caught up in the action.

"I'm not a goody-two-shoes..." You choose to say, still slightly hung up on the nickname.

"Yeah...ya are." Hobie repeats, this time quieter. "...but it's..." You narrow your eyes on him. 'It's' what? "It's kinda cute, luv."

Your eyes widen. "W-what?"

"Hm?" He quickly hums, before he's webbing away, making you spin to gaze after him. "Hobie!" You call, as you quickly web after him.

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hana-no-seiiki · 4 months

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☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIVE STAGES OF YANDERE ࿐: HERO

“𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃.”

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere/tsundere! modern hero x villain! reader

✧ status: unedited

✧ tw/cw: yandere themes, violence, morally dubious reader, horny hero, tsundere hero.

✧ a/n: both character’s genders are up to your imagination. also i’m making this my permanent theme now for general yans fics (consistency/recognizabilty’s sake)

[series masterlist]

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE ONE. ✧ DENIAL

“You’re getting a bit sloppy aren’t you, lil hero?”

“Shut up, wretched being! C-Come back here!”

You and Yandere! Hero have been nemeses for what felt like lifetimes. Ever since you became a sidekick as a kid, up until the present time as adults.

You saw them as a sibling. You’d fight once in a while but neither truly hurt each other. In fact, you never once attempted to kill them, and they in turn never attempted to put you behind bars. The cycle always repeated.

You were relatively close in terms of power. More times than not, things would end up being a tie where the two of you would be too tired to continue. But recently your cutie patootie hero has been getting sluggish. Their attacks lacked any sort of vigour, and their reflexes dulled.

You would offer to talk and assist them, but another one of your hidden rules in this relationship of sorts was that you two would never interfere with life outside of crime and fighting thereof.

Unbeknownst to you, Yandere! Hero fought another villain (cheater!) whose powers were related to nightmares and fears.

Their greatest nightmare . . . was losing their status as a hero — losing you.

You have been such a huge part of their formative years and beyond that the thought of even retiring and losing contact scared the hell out of them. The idea of never being able to banter as you sparred, the concept of losing sight of that smug grin of yours on the times you won, and the very notion of you being dealt with by someone else — their chest would tighten to the point of being unable to breathe.

But they always shook their head, drowned themself in tasks as to avoid the anxiety that threatened their focus. After all, you were a villain. A monstrous creature that have hurt and killed people. The only reason they haven’t taken you down yet was because they were instructed by their predecessor not to.

Yeah, the fear of losing you? Probably just an extension of their desperate and zealous view on their position as a hero

They prayed it was.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE TWO. ✧ ANGER

“I told you that they were mine to take care of! You gave me this duty!”

“You and I both know you’ve been losing your fights more often than not. Look at how many people they’ve started to hurt again! I can’t leave you with a responsibility you, can’t, handle.”

Yandere! Hero couldn’t believe their ears. Everything they feared was starting to come true and it was only getting worse.

They started disobeying their mentor/predecessor’s commands. Commands that they used to referees — worship even. They knew they were making things go from trash to absolute shit, but they couldn’t care less anymore.

So what if you hurt those people? From what they understood, those people were a bunch of assholes at best; Crime-lords, all types of traffickers, and violent thugs. In fact, the very reason you aren’t in cuffs was because you often took justice into your own hands. You were just quite cruel and brutal when it came down to it.

One of their more unforgettable moments of you together was the time you saved them from another villain. You in your blood-soaked glory as you grinned, an attempt to comfort them while they neck-deep in voices that screamed failure. They were barely hurt while you could barely stand, yet you were the one hushing them as you rubbed circles on the small of their back. Shared whispers they’ll die before they talk of it to anyone else.

Yandere! Hero keeps meeting you again and again. Doing duties they were already forbidden from completing and abusing the favor of being a sidekick for so long.

Things get from worse to oblivion when they get news of being replaced.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE THREE. ✧ BARGAINING

“At least let me accompany them on patrols! What if they get hurt?”

“You worked alone just fine.”

“That is an entirely different story!”

This newbie didn’t know you for several years. This newbie never experienced fighting you much less alongside you. You would eat them alive.

Granted, it would be the newbie’s fault for being so incompetent but they digress.

While on patrol with the newbie, they do their best to sabotage them in every way they can. Giving them the wrong intel, alerting the enemy of their arrival if they do figure out the proper location, and above all making sure you two never cross paths at all. A peer of theirs hurting you would kill them.

Of course, with their frantic and frankly stressed out mind, it wasn’t long before you and the newbie encounter one another.

And, the two of you got along quite well. Your moves like a beautifully choreographed routine in the battlefield. More importantly, it looked as if you were having so much fun.

They really couldn’t help themself

When they stepped in and interrupted the two of you

A glaze in their eyes as they walked ever so slowly to the newbie and strangled them.

That horrified look on your face. They didn’t know if they liked it or hated it.

But what they did know is that from that moment forward, they can never call themself a proper hero again. Their mentor’s words echoed in their head.

“You are staying at the base and that is final. If I see you again out on the field, I’ll be the one to put you behind bars.”

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FOUR. ✧ DEPRESSION

“Breaking News: A new vigilante has been spotted! Has our favorite hero been replaced? Well our sources say yes!”

“And would you look at that, they’re even worse at hiding their interest in their nemesis! Is this the love story we’ve all been waiting for?”

Yandere! Hero doesn’t remember when they last saw the sun anymore.

Their days were spent deep within the basement of the hero HQ, scrolling through any information they could find of you.

Their head constantly replaying the memories you shared, written in a systematic obsessed manner on a journal. From the very second you two first met, to the time you looked at them with eyes full of horror.

Your image had been scribbled, drawn, painted, carved, broken down, and built back up again hundreds of times.

But it just wasn’t enough.

Yandere! Hero used to wish that there would be a day you two would stop fighting. Whether it’d be them finally ending your streak of misdeeds, or you quitting. Anything would have satisfied them.

But now, now they just couldn’t see the appeal of it all.

All they could see was eternity with you.

And they’ll have that one way or another.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FIVE. ✧ ACCEPTANCE

“I never could have imagine this to happen.”

“Really? You must have thought that I’d put you behind bars one day.”

“My fantasies were always, well — the other way around.”

You wore a calm expression.

Yandere! Hero, ever the fragile ego they had, would have seen this as an insult. A slight to their prowess.

But right now they couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Of course you wouldn’t be mad if they did this. You were you after all. You’ve been through much worse than being tied up and forced into a small cage more fit for an animal than a human.

And you being you, knew the many other ways to unnerve your poor rival.

“Wouldn’t it be ironic? If your replacement were to save me that is.”

You fought the anticipation from appearing on your face as you continued.

“Then they would truly become my hero.”

But your hopes were dashed, your giddiness dimmed as they simply replied.

“Then I’ll just kill them, and the next replacement after that. Until I go through every single capable human this planet has to offer and then more.”

Perhaps there was a reason why Heroes wore a mask aside from hiding their identities. That would certainly explain the chill you felt crawl up your limbs and spine as they lovingly stared at you.

“Because now I know that I love you. I’ll save you from everyone else but myself.”

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

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save-the-villainous-cat · 29 days

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ruthless hero who destroys everyone verbally, doesnt take shit + chatty villain who just grins and loves banter(if its not too much) have a great day!

The hero swallowed.

Although the gun was shaking in their hand, they took in a deep breath and steadied their mind. No time for second thoughts.

This was it. They’d been searching for the villain for weeks now. They’d finally found them and they were not going to let them escape again.

“Oh?” the villain asked. They eyed the hero carefully, as if the hero was the object of their attention instead of the gun. They were sitting on the couch in their lair with all the casualness in the world. “Aren’t you a little too confident for your own good, darling?”

“Aren’t you?”

The villain cocked their head and the grin followed as so often. They stood up slowly and raised their hands but despite their actions of surrender, they were clearly mocking the hero.

“Mhmm. That’s how it is, I see. How spunky you can be…”

Determined, the hero took their handcuffs and threw them into the villain’s direction. Even though the villain seemed to be more confused than intrigued, they caught and inspected them.

“Cuff yourself,” the hero said.

“Gosh, you can be so kinky.”

“And you’ll be bleeding out in a few seconds if you don’t do as I say.” Their grip around the gun tightened. It didn’t matter that the villain had saved them so many times. It didn’t matter that they were occasionally nice.

It didn’t matter because the hero had a job to do.

They had to arrest them.

The villain rolled their eyes.

“All bark, no bite.”

“Would you like to find out? I recall breaking your arm pretty easily,” the hero said. They were aiming at the villain’s shoulder and slowly, very slowly, their anxiousness faded. It was a job like every other.

A villain, just like all the others.

Shooting at them in this moment seemed irrational. They weren’t a threat nor were they extraordinarily provoking them. Of course the hero knew it would be difficult to explain to the team how the villain had surrendered without much of a struggle.

They had to find a solution to that later.

“Mistakes happen in the heat of the moment. I understand you were distracted by my muscles flexing during the fight.” The villain was in a good mood, as so often. But the hero could also sense some sort of uncertainty.

It was in the movement of their fingers that traced the handcuffs. In their restless eyes that went over the hero again and again. If they wanted to admit it or not, the hero had surprised them.

And that was something the villain absolutely despised. Surprises. Not being in control. Not knowing what happens next.

“I can assure you it was intentional. Your muscles aren’t that special.”

“Ouch.” The villain contorted their face as if they were truly hurt. The mockery should’ve made it easier. But it didn’t.

The hero turned off the gun’s safety.

“Handcuffs. Now.”

“Fine.” The villain cuffed themselves, one wrist after the other. Once they were finished, they stretched their arms out and presented themselves. “Am I not the sweetest present?”

“The most annoying, definitely. Sit down.” The villain did as the hero commanded and leaned back, pushing their hips forward. Lounging like that was definitely not what the hero wanted them to do.

They’d been chasing the villain for weeks and they were determined to put them behind bars. Whatever had happened in the past, it was gone now. The hero had let go of it and could only pray the villain had done that too.

“We’ll wait here until my team arrives.”

“I suppose that’s enough time for me to escape. You know you love our little hide-and-seek game.” Their smile was genuine and sweet. The hero didn’t know what to make of that.

“No, this is it. It’s over. I can’t let you go.”

“But you will. You’re still so soft for me.”

“You’re really not as important to me as you think.” Then why are you hesitating?

“You’re not as cold as you think,” the villain said. “Not when it comes to me.”

They jiggled with the handcuffs. The hero could hear their own pulse.

“Just tell your team it was a good fight and I escaped, hm? Just like last time,” the villain suggested. Sweat was running down the hero’s back. Their fingers were ice cold.

“I cannot do that.”

“You’ve done it before, darling,” the villain said. “As long as I can walk, I can still escape. You know I’m skilled enough to do that.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“I enjoy my time with you,” the villain said. They looked at the ground. “…and I still have feelings for you.”

The hero felt sick in their stomach.

“I wish you hadn’t said that.” Suddenly, the hero lowered their gun and pulled the trigger. They couldn’t let them escape again. They couldn’t put their own feelings before their responsibilities. As soon as they pulled the trigger, they regretted it.

Their heavy heart sank fast.

They hoped one day they could forget the villain’s reaction when the bullet entered their knee. That stare of utter fear and betrayal. That scream and those tears of pain.

But that would haunt them forever.

#doesn’t matter doesn’t matter you had the gun #(they were lovers at some point btw)#hope this is what you meant #didn’t really get the dynamic right it’s very late I hope you’re not mad at me lol #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #lil bit of #angst

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ravenna-reid · 5 months

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JasonTodd x Fem!Vigilante!Reader

You've been trying to push yourself the last few nights even though you're horrendously sick, and one night, it get's the better of you. Lucky there's a certain vigilante who's been keeping his eye on you ;)

No warnings <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The warm glow that settled across your skin made you look even more angelic. Skin like porcelain and ruffled hair pressed against the pillow, you remained in a deep slumber, your chest rising and falling with each breath. His gaze traced your face – and the dark circles that sat both on and under your eyes – before falling down to your outfit.

You were still dressed in your uniform. Black padded shirt, tactical pants and combat boots along with your belt filled with all of its gadgets and weapons. Your mask sat on the floor beside the bed near his feet. Jason had been sitting on a chair beside you for two hours now. Deducing that the vigilante that had her own private missions was in fact you – the local florist owner who had caught his eye – he’d begun watching you. He told himself it was to keep tabs on the crime you were dealing with when you went on patrol at night. To make sure you weren’t the crime. He was doing his job and making sure you were safe. But deep down he knew the truth. He knew a deep infatuation had begun to grow, whether he liked it or not.

You were skilled and silent, unlike the other female vigilantes or villains he’d come across who fought hard to banter with him and catch him off guard with their suggestive comments and lewd gazes. You, however, were different. So focused on the task at hand, Jason was lucky to even get a “Mm” from you when the two of you crossed paths. You were strong and stealthy, adopting the name ‘Ghost’ from those on the streets. Some nights you even helped Jason, and he wouldn’t even realise it until it was too late to thank you. You would appear and disappear in a blink of an eye.

The past few nights however, he noticed how your steps wavered. How you braced yourself against walls when you thought no one was watching. The deep breaths you desperately drew in. With the brief encounters you had, he wasn’t able to figure out what was wrong. Until tonight when you had collapsed on a balcony. Legs outstretched in front of you as you leant against the iron railing, you cursed at the fact that you couldn’t take your mask off in case someone was watching. Why did you have to get sick? With aching limbs, burning skin, cold sweats and a sickening feeling rising from your stomach, you told yourself you would just take a break for a few seconds.

Only a minute passed before a thud came from beside you. Tiredly looking up at the figure who stood before you, head cocked to the side, a frown fell upon your face.

“Don’t tell me this is your place.” You sighed, figuring it would be just your luck to choose to relax on the Red Hood’s balcony.

He soon responded, his helmet giving him a grave, mechanical voice.

“You should go home and get some rest.”

You waved his concerns away with your gloved hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” As you forced yourself to your feet, a sudden wave of nausea washed over you. Much to your dismay you tilted forward, prompting Jason to close the space between you two. Jason sheepishly held onto you, warmth seeping onto his face. Steady hands on your arms, he lowered his head to try and catch your tired gaze.

“Come on, you can’t be out fighting crime like this. You’ve been sick for days now and you’re just making it worse.”

You snap your head up to peer back at him.

“What, are you my stalker or something?” You retorted.

With the roll of his eyes Jason sighed. How the hell would he respond to that? He wasn’t meaning to be creepy. At all.

He was just, what? Concerned? Being attentive? Protecting you?

Ridiculous.

“I like to keep tabs on what happens on these streets too, ok?”

You gently pushed yourself from him to show that you were in fact capable of standing by yourself.

“You’re telling me you don’t keep tabs on me?” He asked, brows raised. Besides, all the vigilantes did it, and your lack of a response answered his question.

“Well, it seems I myself have a secret admirer.” His helmet hid his small smile.

Brows rising, you almost mocked him.

“Oh, really?”

Another dizzy spell and you're in his arms again.

“Seriously, where do you live? I’m taking you home.” Jason almost pleaded. The lights that constantly streamed on the buildings along the street below reflected off of his helmet.

Your head hung low with exhaustion. “Ugh, no. Please believe me when I say I’m fine.”

“Hey, listen. Remember when you saved my ass? Twice? Just look at it as me returning the favour –”

Suddenly, your head fell forward as your body became limp. Crouching down onto the ground and holding you in his arms, Jason let out a long breath. What was he going to do now? He pulled you in close, carrying you bridal style as though you were light as a feather. Soon he realised that all he could do was take you back to his apartment.

Lying you on top of his covers, Jason had a wet towel across your forehead for a little bit to tame your fever. Your breathing sounded restricted, and as much as he hated taking your secret identity from you, your life came before it. Now you laid there before him in a dreamless sleep. Eventually, slow movements came from you, your body aching as you shuffled in his bed. Slowly opening your eyes and fighting off the drowsiness, you were met with someone sitting before you, a glass of water and cold&flu tablets in his hands.

Satin-like black hair hung before his bright eyes. Defined cheekbones and sunken in cheeks, a delicate scar running from his lower cheek over his sharp jaw. Oh, he was so incredibly handsome. Eyes fluttering down to see the red symbol on his chest, you were shocked once the realisation hit you.

“So I did land on your apartment?”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x y/n #dc universe

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misterbartender · 1 year

Text

Mortal Kombat 11 x Dark! Caster Reader Intro Banter

(Gender Neutral)

The Reader in this scenario will be a Dark Caster (a dark witch/wizard/warlock/sorcerer/etc..) paired with Mortal Kombat 11 characters. Yes, retconned Sindel will be used here because I thought it would be better for this scenario.

Kombatants: Kano, Erron Black, Skarlet, Shang Tsung, Sindel, Johnny Cage, Cassie Cage, Noob Saibot/Bi-Han

Warnings: (Some suggestive themes) not proofread

KANO:

KANO: I intend to make a fortune by taking your head.

Y/N: And I intend to make you my slave.

KANO: (with a filthy, smug grin) Kinky.

Y/N: Like hell I would let you tear out my organs.

KANO: Oh there’s another way I can rearrange your guts, love.

Y/N: ...How big is that knife?

Y/N: So you are the head of The Black Dragon? How filthy.

KANO: And dangerous, love. You’d also make a fine Black Dragon.

Y/N: Hmm bet I can tame you then. (smirks)

ERRON BLACK:

ERRON BLACK: You casted a hell of a spell on me darlin’.

Y/N: And now you’re mine, cowboy.

ERRON BLACK: You’re wicked… I like that. (smirks)

Y/N: How much is on my head, Erron Black?

ERRON BLACK: Billions, and I won’t quit just ‘cause you have a pretty face.

Y/N: Glad we’re on the same page, pretty boy, I’ll make you plead for mercy.

ERRON BLACK: I could take you out for a ride ’round Outworld.

Y/N: I’m more interested in the “save a horse, ride a cowboy” deal.

ERRON BLACK: (tips hat with a smirk) Say no more sweetheart.

SKARLET:

SKARLET: So much power running through those veins.

Y/N: I could give you a taste, Skarlet.

SKARLET: And more?

Y/N: Join me, Skarlet, and I will teach you the secrets of Blood Magic that not even Shao Kahn knows.

SKARLET: You think I would betray Shao Kahn as one of his daughters?

Y/N: He has been holding you back, my dear.

Y/N: That hunger of yours can also be a weakness.

SKARLET: Blood has made me powerful. (narrows eyes)

Y/N: With my powers, you will feel hunger no more.

SHANG TSUNG:

SHANG TSUNG: Together with our powers, we could be ruling the realms.

Y/N: And how will I know you will not betray me?

SHANG TSUNG: Only a fool would do that to a beautiful creature like you.

Y/N: Are you here for my soul, Shang Tsung?

SHANG TSUNG: Only your heart, Y/N.

Y/N: It is black as the darkest of nights.

SHANG TSUNG: I could give you anything you desire.

Y/N: For what price?

SHANG TSUNG: You, by my side.

SINDEL:

SINDEL: The great Dark Caster.

Y/N: Beautiful as you are wicked.

SINDEL: Coming from you, that is the highest praise one could receive.

Y/N: You’re still with that oaf?

SINDEL: He is far greater than that weakling Jerrod.

Y/N: If I come back with his head, will that sway you?

Y/N: Well well, Empress Sindel (turns around and smiles)

SINDEL: Kneel. (smirks)

Y/N: I do not kneel. But I can provide other...services...if you wish, my lady.

JOHNNY CAGE:

JOHNNY CAGE: Are you the bad kind or the sexy kind?

Y/N: Both. (smirks)

JOHNNY CAGE: Woo! Well I’m in trouble.

JOHNNY CAGE: So uh... did you use a broomstick to get here?

Y/N: Cage, we do not all use brooms.

JOHNNY CAGE: Well if you need one, you can ride mine.

Y/N: That power you possess comes from a line of powerful warriors.

JOHNNY CAGE: Awesome-ness is in my blood.

Y/N: I’ll gladly take it from your hands you arrogant fool.

CASSANDRA CAGE:

CASSANDRA CAGE: So… are we playing Light as a feather, stiff as a board?

Y/N: (rolls eyes) Just like your father, living in your movies.

CASSANDRA CAGE: Maybe I should start calling you Nancy Downs

Y/N: So you’re the one that defeated Shinnok?

CASSANDRA CAGE: Impressed? Or scared that you’re next in line for an ass kicking?

Y/N: Oh but you stand before a beast far greater than Shinnok by many levels.

CASSANDRA CAGE: Come on, stop with the villain shit so we can go out.

Y/N: Negative, darling, wreak havoc with me.

CASSANDRA CAGE: Is that really all you do?

BI-HAN/NOOB SAIBOT:

BI-HAN: Come join us in the darkness.

Y/N: My time above is not yet over, Bi Han.

BI-HAN: We will conquer it together with our army of shadows.

Y/N: The dark is where I belong, in the end.

BI-HAN: The shadows yearn for your touch.

Y/N: The touch of death?

BI-HAN: There is only room for one force of darkness.

Y/N: Me. Now go home to your brother.

BI-HAN: You know nothing!

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #Mortal Kombat 11 #mk11 x reader #mk x reader #kano x reader #Erron Black x reader #skarlet x reader #shang tsung x reader #sindel x reader #johnny cage x reader #cassie cage x reader #bi han x reader #noob saibot x reader

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bookworm551 · 4 months

Text

Take the Edge Off | Part 9 | Stitches

Summary: After a failed mission, Miguel needs to patch you up.

A/N: well, new year, new chapter (finally). I’m getting real close to finishing up this series, maybe 2 more parts. This took forever bc I needed a filler and had no idea what to do, and this is also the longest part so far. At least I know where to go from here, so I should have the next part up relatively soon 💀

Warnings: smut (duh), canon-typical violence, wound care

10.2k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10

You had grossly underestimated how difficult catching Ghost would be.

The main issue was finding him. He was smart, and he seemed to realize that anytime he spent too much time in one dimension, you and the team would pounce, and like water in your hand, he always managed to slip away. The closest you came to catching him was about three weeks after your bet, and it was an absolute shit show.

"Fuck me," you grunted under your breath when another explosion knocked you into the wall. Ghost came from a universe with hammerspace, and every new dimension he traveled to, he managed to store away more and more dangerous equipment. Now, you were there in some alleyway, half your team missing, fighting off a barrage of missiles, bombs, and sharp projectiles.

Across from you, Ben was tangled in a net trap, and Malala was groaning on the floor as she recovered from an intense electrical shock. Clenching your jaw, you leapt off the wall at Ghost. You were getting aggravated by how difficult this was. Why couldn't he be a regular villain and let you catch him?

Anticipating your move, Ghost jumped out of the way. You webbed him and yanked him toward yourself. Rather than fighting your pull, Ghost flew at you and pounced on your form, knocking you flat on your back. He drove his fists into your ribs, and you cried out as electricity coursed through your body. He held his fists, adorned in makeshift gauntlets, to you as you lay paralyzed by pain.

"Where's the big guy?" He asked you, his voice low and silky. "He's always a good time." You weren't even able to breathe from the shocks pulsing in your ribs, but before you would've been able to answer him, your attention was captured by the sight of a yellow portal to your right.

For one dreadful moment, you thought it was Ghost's escape. His slippery nature was due to the watch he had stolen from Ben all those months ago, and it seemed almost impossible to keep him in one dimension long enough to catch him.

To your tremendous relief however, Miguel's muscular form flew out of the portal, knocking the anomaly off of your body. You took a ragged breath as the two men tumbled to your side. "Oh! Here you are!" Ghost laughed, pushing himself off the floor to face Miguel. "We were just talking about you."

Miguel turned his head for a moment to assess your form still gasping for breath. "You're late," you wheezed to him as you rolled onto your side to stand up again. You'd been here fighting alongside Ben and Malala since the alert from Lyla had gone out, and Miguel was only just now showing up. You didn't even know where Jess and the others were.

Seeing that you were well enough to give him sass, Miguel turned back to face Ghost, shooting a web that Ghost easily avoided. "You missed," he teased, but he was quickly eating his words when Miguel yanked the dumpster he had webbed instead and slammed it into the arrogant anomaly.

While Ghost was still recovering from his hit, Miguel threw his containment unit device at Ghost’s form. It slid right next to him, but a microsecond before it deployed, the anomaly rolled away, causing the orange force field to envelop nothing.

"Interesting," Ghost stated, sounding genuinely fascinated as he observed the glowing orange cage. You huffed in irritation, finally managing to sit up now that your muscles weren't spasming anymore. As much as you usually enjoyed banter with your enemies, you were not in the mood.

Miguel lunged after Ghost, who pulled another weapon seemingly out of nowhere and fired a spray of spinning razors at him. Miguel began twisting through the air, managing to evade every blade with expert precision.

Unfortunately for you, your screaming muscles weren’t able to move quite as fast as you needed. You leapt through the air to try and dodge the razors, but midair, one clipped you right in the shoulder, cutting deep from the front of your shoulder down almost to your back.

You cried out in pain, slamming hard into the ground as you fell. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, and you lay there struggling to breathe while hot pain blossomed in your shoulder.

Hearing your pained cry, Miguel froze, his body automatically turning to find you. You lay there a moment before moving to roll onto your good side. You pushed yourself up with a groan, and you were surprised to find Miguel at your side and pressing you back down to the floor. “Don’t move,” he urged as he gently held you down.

Even though his face was hidden, you could see he was examining your wound. “I’m fine,” you grunted, moving to sit up again. Miguel must’ve seen that you weren’t too terribly wounded and watched you carefully while you sat up off the ground before finally saying, “Okay.”

Together, you turned back to face Ghost. He was standing with a curious look on his face and an unsettling smile on his lips. “Now, that is interesting,” he said. Before either of you could move at him, Malala came swinging in a blur and knocked the anomaly off his feet. “I’m getting real tired of his gabbing,” she muttered, sounding as aggravated as you felt.

Ghost didn’t stay down for long. “It seems I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he observed. He quickly typed something into his watch, and a portal opened up beside him. “No!” Miguel snarled, leaving your side to lunge after him. You also stood up, grinding your teeth in pain as you leapt after him.

To buy himself time, Ghost threw down two small capsules that flashed brightly, making you balk. When the sun spots faded from your eyes, there was still a thick cloud of smoke around you, causing you to cough weakly. Your eyes scanned the alley for your rival, and you found him scooping up the containment unit device Miguel had thrown.

You flung yourself at him, trying to web the device from his hands. Hitting his arm, you pulled him forward with all your strength. He flew at your body, but when you raised a hand to hit him with your bad arm, pain flared from your shoulder and caused you to stumble, and you only managed a weak punch.

Seeing your pain, Ghost pulled a knife out of who-knows-where and severed the line between you. Scrambling away, he jumped for the portal and fell inside it just as Miguel tried to catch him, and within a breath, the portal to an unknown dimension closed.

“No!” Miguel shouted in frustration, his fist punching the wall where the portal had been mere seconds ago. You let out an aggravated breath. This was the closest you had ever been to catching Ghost, so frustratingly close that it made your chest burn in anger.

There was a tense second where nobody spoke. You could see that Miguel was breathing hard. At your side, Malala stood up with a heavy sigh and moved over to help Ben who was still entangled in a net.

Miguel whirled on you. “What happened?!” Miguel shouted at you. You gaped at him incredulously. “You’re asking me?!” You shot back angrily. “Where the hell were you when the alert went out?”

Miguel’s mask retracted to reveal his scowling face. “We had him!” he snarled, ignoring your question and directing his anger towards you.

Your frustration boiled in your chest. Not only had Miguel been late to the call, but his accusatory words were some of the first that he had spoken directly to you since he added you to the team. It had been weeks since you had spoken to each other. It seemed as though since your last encounter, he had been avoiding you. Your interactions had been brief and relevant only to the mission, and you hadn’t even spent any time alone together since you had been added to the team.

“Yeah, we had him,” you repeated angrily, your own mask retracting. “We had him until you stopped going after him.” His face contorted into a scowl, and his figure towered over you. “You had plenty of time to incapacitate him,” he argued.

You scoffed. “Yeah, I had plenty of time waiting for you to show up,” you shot back. “And as soon as you do, you turn your back on him.”

“You were hurt,” he stated sharply. His eyes fell to your shoulder, and you thought that some of his anger dissipated from his face. “You are hurt,” he corrected himself, his voice still sharp but a bit less angry.

You almost scoffed again, but when you looked down at your shoulder, you grimaced. Your suit had retracted around your cut, exposing the deep slice in your shoulder. In your adrenaline-fueled state, you had only briefly felt it, but now, seeing it slowly oozing blood, the pain was suddenly very noticeable.

"Shit," you sighed under your breath. You were used to dressing your own wounds, but this one was in a spot that was going to be difficult to treat. "I'll be fine," you said dismissively.

Miguel seemed to compose himself a little bit. He closed his eyes with a deep sigh before looking back at your shoulder. "You need stitches," he said.

You rolled your eyes. "I said I'll be fine," you repeated firmly. "Don't be stupid," he replied in a flat voice. "And don't try to tell me you can do it yourself." You closed your mouth and huffed. That's exactly what you were about to say.

"Fine, I'll get Jess to do it," you stated in exasperation. "Happy?"

"Like hell you will," he muttered, typing something into his watch. A portal opened beside you, and Miguel looked back at you, irritation still evident on his face though perhaps not so much as before.

"What?" You asked expectantly. He shot you an impatient look. "Go," he told you sharply. You shifted your stance defiantly, stubbornly remaining where you were. "I don't want to go with you," you argued. He sighed in exasperation. "Would you stop being so damn stubborn and go through the stupid portal?" He snapped.

You stared up at him in contempt. His demanding tone and harsh mannerisms made you feel resistant to accepting any of his help. After ignoring you for weeks and snapping at you during this failure of a mission, he was the last person you wanted seeing you in pain.

You both continued staring at each other, each refusing to look away first. You felt blood oozing down your back, and the pain was really starting to radiate in your shoulder. Miguel stared at you with a deadpan expression, knowing it was only a matter of time before you would give in.

You realized with a wave of aggravation that he was going to win your staring standoff. With a sigh, you grit your teeth together and looked down in defeat. "Fine," you muttered sourly. Pushing past him, you walked into the portal and didn't bother looking back to see if he was coming.

You weren't quite sure what you were expecting on the other side of the portal, but you were somewhat surprised to find yourself standing in Miguel's room. It was just as you remembered it from weeks ago— simple, neat, and barely used.

From behind you, Miguel stepped into the room, not even sparing you a glance before heading to the bathroom. You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly following after him. He pulled out a large black bag onto the counter space filled with all sorts of medical equipment. He was laying out materials for suturing as you walked in.

"Sit."

You scoffed in annoyance. "I know you know how to say please," you grumbled. He didn't respond, turning to his sink to wash his hands rather than answering you. If you had been in a pettier mood, you wouldn't have moved until he asked nicely, but you were in pain and ready to get it over with, so you pushed yourself up onto the counter by the sink and waited for him.

Miguel pulled a pair of gloves over his hands and inspected your wound carefully. "Your suit," he said flatly, indicating that it was in the way. Sighing, you let your suit retract just enough to reveal half your torso for him. It didn't matter that this man had seen you completely naked on several occasions, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you undressed now, even if he was only going to stitch you up.

Miguel began with wiping away the blood from the skin around your wound. You flinched hard. The pressure he used was light but still painful, and you closed your eyes to fight the grimace that was trying to show. It took you a second to realize that this was the first time he'd touched you in weeks.

Despite your irritation towards him, you couldn’t help but notice how closely he was standing to you. From the corner of your eye, you watched his face as he worked diligently to take care of you. His eyebrows were slightly scrunched as he focused his attention on your skin, and there was only the sounds of his soft, steady breathing in your ear.

When he was satisfied with how your skin looked, he sprayed antiseptic on it before asking, “Do you want something for the pain?” You considered it for half a moment before shaking your head. You had managed stitches before, and it wasn’t as painful as some other shit you’d experienced before.

He waited to see if you’d change your mind before lifting the threaded needle with his forceps. Despite your resolution against painkillers, you ground your teeth as the needle punctured your skin. "Sorry," Miguel murmured softly as he pulled the suture through your skin. He was obviously trying to work as gently as possible, but pain was inevitable with suturing.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you tried your best to ignore the pain, but with how slowly he was going and how thick the tension was, you knew you were going to need a distraction.

"Are you sure we couldn't have just used butterfly stitches?" You asked sourly as he pulled the thread again. "Yes," he replied firmly. "This is deep. You got lucky, too. If it had been just a few inches over, the blade would've hit your neck, and you'd need a lot more than sutures."

"It wasn't luck," you replied pointedly. "It was skill." Miguel gave a disbelieving snort as he pulled the thread tight. "If you really had skill, it wouldn't have hit you at all," he mumbled.

You huffed indignantly. "Oh, please," you began, "don't pretend like you haven't had to take a few hits before. It's practically in the job description."

Miguel didn't reply as he pierced the needle through your skin again, causing you to wince at the pain. You thought he was going to make some sharp bullshit retort about how he didn't get as hurt as you, but instead, he just sighed.

"This was too close," he murmured at last.

Your defensive attitude softened considerably at his words. Studying his face closely, you realized that he wasn't being critical, he was being protective. With your new understanding, you almost felt bad for being angry at him.

"I've had closer," you told him wryly. He frowned. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He asked in a dull voice. You have a small huff in amusement. "It's supposed to show you that you don't have to worry about me," you explained earnestly.

He didn't say anything to you as he continued sewing up your cut. The sting of the needle caused you to wince again, and you tried to think of something to talk about to distract you from the pain.

"At least I don't have to fix up my suit," you said at last, hoping he would pick up the conversation. Miguel hummed before replying, "It's almost impossible to destroy unstable molecule fabric."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Well if it was impossible to destroy, wouldn't it protect me from even getting cut?"

"That's not how it works," he told you flatly.

"So then how does it work?"

He gave a short sigh, indicating to you that he was not in the mood to entertain your curiosity. Nevertheless, he did. "The molecules work almost as a form of energy," he explained. "They assess the host molecules and change with them. The suit learns your body and reacts with it."

Another stitch was added, but you didn't feel it quite as much as before.

"When you were cut, it didn't destroy the suit," he continued, "it interrupted it. Your skin was damaged, and the suit left it exposed because your wound isn't the default for the molecules."

You studied his face as he spoke, a smile slowly growing on your lips. When he had finished explaining the science of the suit, he seemed to feel your stare and glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Nerd," you said at last.

That seemed to pull him out of his grumpiness somewhat, and he turned his attention back to your shoulder. "You asked," he mumbled, but the sharp edge that was in his voice was gone.

"So then how does the suit retract into my web shooters?" You asked, genuinely interested in knowing more about the fascinating technology you wore everyday, and it definitely helped distract you from the pain.

"Since the suit can take on an energy form," he explained, "it can be stored in the web shooters as a form of data." You stared down at the web shooters on your wrists. It was amazing that such an unsuspecting piece of technology housed such powerful energy.

"They look just like my old pair," you noted. Miguel nodded, his eyes never leaving your shoulder as he worked. "I know, that's what I was aiming for," he said, "but I was thrown off by the web cartridges you use."

You smirked. "Pretty cool, right?" You said proudly. "I built a system that condenses the water in the air and converts it into a hydropolymer to supplement my web supply. It's not as strong as my original formula, but it saves me from having a web block."

Miguel's eyebrows lifted somewhat as he listened. If you hadn't known better, you could almost say he was impressed. He must've noticed your staring because he turned his eyes to meet yours, and his face softened.

"Nerd," he said.

You smiled in return and rolled your eyes. "Whatever," you mumbled playfully. His lips widened fractionally, and his eyes returned back to your shoulder. You felt more relaxed now. The anger and irritation you were feeling before had disappeared as soon as you saw him smile.

"How's it looking, doc?" You asked after a moment, trying to turn your head to see his progress. “Don’t move your head,” Miguel said and nudged your face with the back of his wrist. "And you're not going to be doing any swinging for the next few days.” Your eyes snapped up to look at him. "It's not that bad," you argued weakly. "I'll be fine."

Miguel gave you a stern look. "In your shoulder, it is that bad," he said. "If you tear this, it's going to scar even worse than it's already going to now."

You rolled your eyes again. "Well, you know better than most that this isn't my first or worst scar," you argued, "and it probably won't be my last." It was true. Your body was covered in scars large and small, old and new, and this was just another addition to your collection.

Miguel didn't reply to you. He had worked steadily from the back of your shoulder to the front, but the closer he got to your neck, the worse the pain felt. You did your best to remain neutral, but you couldn't help the small grunt of discomfort that sounded in your throat. Miguel heard it and asked gently, "Do you want something for the pain?"

You shook your head in response. "I have my own stuff," you told him before a crooked grin pulled on your lips. "But you know what I've heard is a natural pain killer?" You added slyly.

Miguel heard the mischief in your voice, and he looked back at your face with suspicion. "What?" He asked carefully.

In a sweet tone, you answered, "Kissing."

Miguel gave you a disapproving look, but you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I told you not until we get the anomaly," he said pointedly.

You weren't discouraged by his assertion. "I just want to see if it works," you told him innocently. "It's an experiment."

"With an ulterior motive."

"The motive is to get rid of the pain."

He still wore a skeptical look, so you tried again. "It's for science," you explained, batting your eyes at him. After weeks of not touching him, you longed to feel his body against your own.

Miguel was unconvinced. He gave an unimpressed hum and pulled his needle through your skin again. It seemed he wasn't going to budge. Heaving a large sigh, you continued, "But if you don't want to participate, maybe I'll find someone else who does."

Miguel pulled his stitch tight, making you wince. "I bet you think that's funny," he said in a flat voice.

"I bet you don't," you shot back.

"Because it's not."

"Well," you began slowly, hesitating as you wondered if you should even start this conversation with him. You’d thought a lot about him the past few weeks, and barely seeing him for weeks now had made you realize that being a casual fling wasn’t what you wanted anymore. "I know you've expressed many times that this isn't a relationship,” you said carefully, “so I don't really see what the issue is."

Your heart was beating a little faster now. Your words opened the door to a conversation that you were both eager and terrified to have. You wanted desperately to know how he felt about you, about whatever this was between you. You were also nervous that he didn't feel what you felt or want what you wanted.

At your words, Miguel's face darkened. He stayed quiet for a second before he resumed suturing. "If that's what you want," he muttered at last.

There was a tense silence that settled between you. You stared up at his hardened face, trying to determine what he was thinking.

"It's not," you replied quietly, "but being on this break got me thinking."

"About?"

"About how I feel about this whole arrangement."

The tense silence returned. Miguel's eyes were fixed determinedly on your shoulder, and his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to what you said.

"You want to end it?" He asked, his voice level and neutral.

"No," you said a bit too quickly. "It's just..." you trailed off, trying to think of the best way to tell him what you wanted. Doubt nibbled at your mind, and you wondered if this was even a good idea at all.

Miguel noticed your apprehension, and he stopped sewing your wound to give you his undivided attention. His dark eyes met yours, and he was so close to you that it caused your heart to flutter.

You looked away to regain your thoughts. "I know that this is supposed to be a casual thing," you began slowly. "And I know what you said about time and relationships. I just..." you sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the counter. "I don't want to be just a diversion for you, a mindless distraction that you can pick up or put down as you please."

Your face burned as you spoke, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at his face. Miguel murmured your name softly, and you closed your eyes to keep from seeing his reaction.

"If that's still what you still want, that's fine," you continued quickly. "I'm not trying to force you into something you don't want." You sighed as you opened your eyes again. "That's just how I feel," you finished quietly.

Silence enveloped you, suffocating, nerve-wracking silence. After a couple heartbeats, you forced yourself to look up at Miguel. He was still staring at you, but instead of wearing an awkward or even condescending expression as you had expected, his face was soft, almost thoughtful.

You stared at each other quietly for a moment longer before he finally turned his gaze back to your shoulder. Picking up his hands again, he began working on your sutures without reply.

Your stomach tightened anxiously at his silence, and you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you. You didn't feel the pain of your wound anymore now that your mind was racing with what you just said and Miguel's utter lack of response.

"It's not that I don't want it," he said at last. "Because I do."

Your eyes shot up to his face as he spoke. His gaze was still fixed on your stitches, but you could see clearly that he was thinking about what you just said.

"Then what is it?" You asked quietly.

Miguel took a moment to respond, his hands never ceasing their work. "I built my whole life around what we're doing here," he began slowly. "When I say I don't have time for a relationship, it means I can't give you the time you deserve." He glanced over at your face briefly before returning back to your shoulder, his eyes growing distant.

"The last time I let myself get close to someone, I hurt a lot of people," he added quietly. "More than I could ever make up for." He paused for a moment and sighed. "I just don't want to see that happen to you," he said softly.

Your heart ached. You remembered what he told you, how his actions triggered the destruction of a universe. The burden of his past still clearly weighed on his conscious, and you didn't know what to say to him to comfort him.

In the silence following, Miguel tied off the last stitch. With a pair of scissors from the kit, he snipped the line. You looked down at the neat row of sutures that held your cut closed. His work was precise, and you knew it was miles better than what you could've done by yourself.

Miguel was cleaning up his materials, clearly trying to avoid eye contact with you as he did. You watched for a second before taking a deep breath.

"You know, I've learned a lot of things since I was bitten by that stupid spider," you began, breaking the silence around you. "First, pain is unavoidable." You pointed to your shoulder's fresh stitches. "Case in point," you said wryly.

Miguel didn't react to your weak joke. He continued packing his materials away, but you could tell he was still listening to what you were saying.

"My second lesson," you continued, "was that I would always be alone."

Miguel paused, and his eyes turned back to your face. "There was nobody who knows what it's like to be me," you explained. "Nobody who knew what I've sacrificed. I had nobody to trust with this secret life, and the longer I did this, the more I regretted being Spider-Woman."

You stared down at the web shooters adorning your wrists as you contemplated your own words. You had never told anybody this before, not even the other Spiders. You had suffered so much by yourself, and only now for the first time did you feel like you could share your life with someone.

"But when I came here," you continued quietly, "it all changed. Suddenly, I was surrounded by people who did understand, who also felt how I did." You paused again, and you finally looked up at his face. His eyes were watching you with a look of understanding and sympathy that made your throat tighten unexpectedly.

Your eyes broke away from his stare again, and you stated quietly, "When you offered me a place here, I wasn't alone anymore."

Miguel nodded softly. "That's what I wanted," he replied. "A community for people like us." You tilted your head up at him and studied his countenance. "Then why do you still act like you're doing it alone?" You asked.

He sighed uncomfortably, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the sink counter. "In a lot of ways, I am doing it alone," he stated quietly. "Everyone here enjoys doing the missions, seeing all the new dimensions, and meeting new Spiders. I'm the one who has to do all the damage control, the recruitment, the dirty work." He sighed again and muttered grimly, "I don't always like what I have to do."

You raised an eyebrow at his melodramatic statement. "You know, it would probably be more enjoyable if you actually interacted with the other Spiders," you told him with a pointed look.

Miguel huffed a short breath. "I'm not trying to get close to anyone," he stated firmly. That made you pause and tilt your head in interest. "Then what am I?" You asked, a curious smile pulling at your mouth.

His gloomy expression lifted somewhat as he looked at you. He uncrossed his arms and planted them on the counter on either side of your body, and he stared at your face thoughtfully. You stared back, waiting for an answer.

"You," he began slowly, "were a distraction to take the edge off." You hummed thoughtfully in response, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer. "And now?" You prompted, your eyes falling to his lips.

"And now," he echoed, "you're the person I bring back to my room to stitch up because I don't trust anyone else to do it."

You smiled at him, and your stomach fluttered at how close he was to you. You wanted so badly to kiss him. Your lips yearned for the feeling of his mouth against yours.

"I guess that makes me pretty special," you replied smugly.

A glimmer of reluctant amusement shone in his face, and he tilted his head in mock consideration. "I think 'special' is a stretch," he stated coolly. You placed a hand over your heart dramatically. "Ouch," you gasped. "And you wonder why I joke about going to other people."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "I don't wonder," he stated. "I know exactly why you do it."

"And why is that?" You asked coyly.

Miguel shot you an unconvinced look. "Because it gets under my skin, and you know it," he replied. You smirked, unable to deny the truth in his statement.

"If that's true, then that would make me a horrible person," you told him.

"You are a horrible person."

Your smile widened, and with your good arm, you raised your hand to his chest and let it slowly wander up to wrap behind his neck. "Then why do you like me?" You asked innocently.

Miguel was looking at your lips now, and there was a hint of playfulness in his face. "'Like' is a strong word," he said thoughtfully. "I think 'tolerate' is more accurate."

You rolled your eyes with a smile. "Damn, is there anything in the first aid kit for a broken heart?" You joked. He couldn't stop himself from smiling softly at your theatrics. "You're ridiculous," he said.

You hummed, pulling him closer to your face. "You love it," you insisted. His nose brushed against yours before he repeated, "I tolerate it." You chuckled and gave a careful shrug. "Same difference," you said before pulling his lips down against yours.

You couldn't resist smiling against his lips as you kissed him for the first time in weeks. You were savoring every sweet second of his body against yours. His mouth moved slowly against your own, and he snaked an arm around your torso, making your face glow with a faint blush.

His words echoed in your head. It's not that I don't want it. So, he did feel the same way you did, or at least, to some degree he did. The thought alone made your stomach flutter, and you ran your fingers through his hair while trying to memorize how his lips felt against yours.

When you finally broke apart, you still wore a smile on your face as his forehead rested on yours. "Oh wow, that does help with the pain," you commented. The pain had subsided considerably when his mouth was pressed against yours.

Miguel chuckled and kissed you again briefly. "Consider your experiment a success," he said. You hummed thoughtfully. "I would be an irresponsible scientist if I didn't repeat my experiment to prove its validity," you argued, earning a smile from him before you pressed your lips to his again.

It felt so good to kiss him, especially after the shitty failure that was today's mission, and the warmth of his body melted all your troubles away from your mind. You didn't care about the mission or your injury. He was here with you, everything else could wait.

With your fingers still running through his hair, you grabbed a fistful of jet-black strands and deepened your kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth with a sigh. His hand on your waist tightened while he grunted softly into your mouth.

Breaking away from your lips, Miguel murmured your name in a low, warning voice. "Hmm?" You replied innocently, looking up at his dark eyes through your lashes. "We had an agreement," he said.

"Yeah, when I was on the team," you told him. "But you just said that I need to lay off for a few days..." you gave him a pointed look, "...which means I'm technically off the team for a few days..." you pulled his face back down to yours, "...which means that our agreement is null and void."

With that, you pressed your lips to his in a deep kiss before he could argue back. It was a weak argument, and you knew it, but you didn't want him to challenge it. You wanted him to want you.

His grip around your waist tightened as he pushed against your tongue with his own. You couldn't help the small moan you gave as his passion began to show, and all the longing you'd been feeling for Miguel the past couple weeks began welling up inside you.

Your lips separated for a moment. "Treacherous," he murmured breathlessly against your skin. You hummed, blinking your eyes open to look at him. His face looked restless, and you knew he was hungry for more.

"So I've been told," you replied smugly as you moved your lips down to his neck. Miguel gave a deep sigh at the feeling of your kisses on his sensitive skin, skin that felt warm and soft to the touch.

In your growing desire for him, your teeth gently nipped his bare flesh. Miguel sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation, his fingers gripping your waist tightly as he whispered your name again. You smiled deviously as his reaction, and your legs wrapped around his hips to bring his body flush against yours.

"Give me more," you mumbled against his skin. Miguel took a second to respond, his breathing ragged as he tried to keep his composure. "You're hurt," he argued weakly. Based on his strained voice, you knew he had all but given in to the craving of your touch. You raised your head up so that you could look him in his dark, restless eyes, noses brushing gently as you were both panting lightly in anticipation.

"Then make me feel better."

That was all you had to say before he kissed you with the hunger of a touch-starved man. He pulled you off the sink in one swift movement, holding you upright with your legs still wrapped around his waist, and walked out of the bathroom to where his bed was waiting for you both.

Finally, you thought. The tension between you these past few weeks had been torture. Seeing each other around HQ after your last encounter and not saying a word in passing was aggravating, and you had been longing for the moment when you could wrap your arms (and legs) around him again.

When his legs hit the side of the bed, he lowered you carefully down onto it. You still had your good arm wrapped around his shoulders, and when he placed you on the top of his bed, you hissed in pain and clung to his body. The edge of your stitched-up wound had touched the comforter, making it sting.

"Maybe not like this," you said with a light chuckle.

A flash of concern crossed Miguel's face when he realized your pain, and he moved to roll off of you. Still holding yourself close to his body, you rolled with him and found yourself straddling his lap.

With a smirk, you hovered your face over his. "Much better," you stated smugly. Miguel was still assessing your face for any traces of discomfort. "Are you sure you're up for this?" He asked. You shot him a look. You would've thought he was trying to find a way out of it if it weren't for the fact that his fingers were unconsciously trying to move your hips against his hardening cock.

"I've been craving you for weeks," you whispered against his lips. "It would take more than this to keep me off of you." His face gave way to a smile at your words, a true smile that filled his whole face. Fuck, he looked so good. The way he lit up with you knocked the wind out of you, and you could've stayed there forever just admiring the beautiful smile he had before he raised his head to kiss you.

You leaned into him, growing hot with desire. Your suit, so attuned to what your body wanted, retracted all the way back to your web shooters. Miguel's hands traced across the skin of your torso as his tongue slid against yours, and his suit also disappeared from his body.

Feeling his skin against yours set your heart racing. His fingertips felt electric as his hands wandered up your back to unclasp your bra. Careful not to hit your new stitches, he removed it from your body, taking in the sight of your bare body with a lustful expression before lowering his head to take one of your breasts in his mouth.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he moved his mouth sloppily over your skin. Leaning into him, you ran a hand through his dark hair and grabbed fistfuls of the strands. You missed this, the feeling of him exploring your body. It was so much more than taking the edge off now. It was almost like a form of worship.

"Feeling better?" He murmured, tilting his head up to watch your enraptured expression. "Mhmm," you hummed, a lazy smile pulling at your lips. "But don't you dare stop."

Miguel smirked. "Wasn't planning on it," he replied in a low voice. As he spoke, his hands slid down your body and began pushing your underwear down over your ass. Leaning forward, you lifted your legs to allow his hands to remove your last piece of clothing.

You were breathing hard in anticipation now. You placed sloppy kisses on his chest, his neck, practically any of his tanned skin that you could reach. From his throat, the softest little moans sounded in response to your touch, and each fueled your desire. In your desperation, your teeth grazed his skin again.

His breath caught in his throat, and his fingers dug into your skin. You smirked, enjoying his reaction to your teasing. "You like that, don't you?" You observed slyly. Before you could give him the opportunity to respond, you bit down on the muscle at the base of his neck, not enough to be painful but enough to leave a mark.

He moaned loudly, an unrestrained sound that demonstrated the power you had over him. You released the skin between your teeth before moving them up his neck and biting him there, gentler than before. You were fairly certain he stopped breathing for a moment as you bit down on his soft skin. When the moment passed, you let go again, moving your mouth up and nipping his earlobe.

Miguel was practically paralyzed by your touch, and you could feel his heart racing wildly under your hand. He was completely at your mercy, unable to stop you even if he had wanted to.

But you knew he didn't want you to stop.

Still holding a fistful of his hair, you pulled firmly and tilted his head back to expose his neck to you. Letting his earlobe slip out of your teeth, you moved your mouth to his jaw, placing a kiss on the skin there before gently biting it.

He groaned your name. There was a desperate edge to his voice that made your cunt ache for him. When you moved your lips up to his, he kissed you with such fervor that it was less like he was kissing you and more like he was trying to devour you, like being completely pressed against you wasn't close enough.

"I need to...be inside you," he gasped, his lips still trying to kiss you as he spoke. He sounded as breathless as you felt, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, his eyes were hungry with his desire for you.

Maybe if it hadn't been so long since you'd been together, you would've prolonged the teasing, exacerbated his frustration, but you found that you were also desperate to feel him inside you. Every inch of your body burned for him, and you knew he burned for you, too.

Settling back down slowly on his lap, you allowed Miguel to guide your hips to his cock. Your forehead rested against his, and you gave a small gasp when you felt the tip tease at the entrance of your pussy. Giving Miguel another messy kiss, you lowered yourself down his length.

God, he felt good.

Your head lolled back as he stretched you out so perfectly for the first time in weeks. Miguel released a hot breath against the skin of your neck, his hands holding your hips tightly as he slid into your tight cunt.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered. "I've missed this."

If you had been in a clearer state of mind, you would've pointed out it was his own damn fault for making the stupid rule in the first place. But right now, the only thing on your mind was that you needed to move your body against his.

Raising your hips up again, a loud groan spilled from your lips. You'd almost forgotten just how big he was. His cock was buried deep inside you, setting every nerve on fire. Every muscle in your body tightened with the feeling of his dick sliding out of you, and your hands, one still in his hair and the other holding onto his back, curled tightly as you clung to him.

You moved back down again, your eyes closed tightly with the sensations of riding him. Miguel's hands gripped your waist tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as you moved slowly up and down the length of his cock. His breathing was shaky, and so was yours. Neither of you said anything as you took the time to reacquaint yourselves with the feeling of each other's bodies.

You soon grew impatient with the slow pace you were keeping. You raised your hips off of his lap with greater need, grinding your pussy down hard against him as you did. Miguel's reaction was immediate, and you heard a growl deep in his throat. His hands encouraged your pace and eased some of the effort off of your knees.

The sound of your ass smacking against his lap filled the air, and combined with the sounds of his heavy panting, it only fueled your lust-crazed mind. Blinking open your eyes, you looked at Miguel and found that he was staring up at your face. A shimmer of sweat gleamed on his forehead, and his lips were parted as he breathed hard.

Your eyes locked with his dark gaze. Even as you continued to move along his length, you couldn't help but feel utterly paralyzed by his stare, so brazen and intentional, completely in awe of you. It made you feel powerful, revered.

Loved.

You managed to break out of your paralyzed stupor and crash your lips down on his. Now, you were the one who felt as though you couldn't be close enough to him. Even with his cock pumping in and out of you with ever-increasing speed, you wondered if there was anything that could satisfy your need for him.

Your pace was uncontrollable now. Small, whining moans escaped your mouth with every rise and fall of your hips. Miguel's fingers dug into your waist tightly, and he grunted as he pulled away from your lips.

"Wait," he gasped quietly.

Your eyes snapped open, and you froze. Was something wrong? Were you doing something he didn't like?

Miguel's face struggled to compose itself. "You need to slow down," he finally said. You stared at him for a second before you understood what was happening.

A wicked grin grew on your face. "Why?" You asked deviously. Miguel shot you a glare, his chest heaving. "You know why," he grunted. "Just slow down."

Still wearing your devilish smile, you started moving your hips again. "I don't want to," you told him, your words sounding almost childish as you choked back a whine. Miguel cursed under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought against the pleasure your cunt brought him.

"Wait, wait," he groaned again, trying to hold you still. Now, this was a power trip if you'd ever felt one. You knew you were only a few moments away from causing him to unravel. Now, he was begging you to ease up because he knew he couldn't last against you.

You grabbed his jaw in one hand, forcing his face to look up at you. "Why should I?" You demanded to know. He was panting hard, and his eyes seemed hazy and unfocused.

"I need to take care of you first," he managed to breathe. You huffed an amused breath. He never failed to get you off, and despite the fact that you were more than happy to finish him off in record timing, you were inclined to let him take over for you.

Miguel placed a soft kiss to your lips. "Let me take care of you," he pleaded in a whisper. "Let me taste you."

The thought alone of what he could do with his tongue was enough to make you moan. Instead of replying, you kissed him hard before lifting your hips up off of him entirely. You felt a twinge of regret from the loss of his cock inside you, but when he slowly rolled you over, the rush of anticipation quickly replaced it.

Miguel pulled you to the edge of the bed, careful not to cause your stitches to hit the comforter. With your good arm, you were propped up by your elbow while he slowly moved down your body. He placed tantalizing kisses on your throat, your collar, your breasts, your stomach, practically every inch of your body he could see. With every kiss, you felt like your body was slowly being set on fire, and you moaned impatiently as he slid off the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms under your thighs the way he loved to do.

When his mouth finally landed over your pussy, you nearly fell back against the bed. A cry of pleasure tore from your throat. The hand you weren't leaning on came up and grabbed his hair while you squirmed in his grip. His lips were sealed over your pussy. He was alternately sucking at your clit and circling it with his tongue. You struggled to breathe as he continued working at a careful pace.

"Miguel," you gasped, your thighs flexing beneath his hands.

Miguel moaned against you, his movements growing faster and faster. His head pressed firmly against you. Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest as you tried to keep your arm from buckling. His tongue moved expertly against you, lapping hungrily at your swollen clit. You tugged at his hair as you tried moving under his arms, but his grip kept you in place.

Your head fell back with a long whine. You knew at the rate he was going that you weren't going to last long. He was all too familiar with the way your body worked, and he knew exactly where to focus his efforts to get you off.

Lifting your head up again, you blinked your eyes open to look down at him. Half of his face was blocked by your arm, so you released the hold you had on his hair, letting your hand trace the edge of his face. His dark eyes were gazing up at you intently, watching your every reaction.

Letting your hand fall away from his face, it rested on your thigh as you let out another high-pitched moan. Without stopping his tongue, Miguel released his grip on your leg and took your hand in his. You looked down at him and squeezed his hand while he continued swirling his tongue over your pussy.

"Don't stop," you panted, your stomach tensing from his movement. He tightened his grip in two quick pulses, and even though his mouth never left your cunt, you could practically hear the words he was thinking—I won't.

Your legs were shaking now, and you barely had the strength to keep yourself up off the bed. Pleasure was taking over your body and coiling at your stomach. Miguel knew you were close by the quickening of your breath and the tightening of your grip, his tongue maintaining its steady pressure.

Finally, with a loud cry, your body began trembling under his touch. You squeezed his hand hard as you came against his mouth. The feeling of ecstasy burned in every part of your body while you struggled to breathe from the pleasure that had now completely overwhelmed you.

Miguel eased his pace to lazy circles, his eyes alight with smug satisfaction. You writhed under his mouth, growing restless from the overstimulation you were beginning to feel. "Oh, fuck," you gasped, moving your hips to escape his warm tongue. He let you move away from his face, releasing his grip on your hand and thigh.

Miguel pushed himself off the ground and began crawling over your body. "See?" he said in satisfaction, sounding out of breath. "I'll always take care of you." You moaned again, still trying to recover from your high. "Careful O'Hara," you managed to say. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

He smirked down at you, his lips and chin glistening with your wetness. Pushing forward, his body forced yours down. You wrapped one arm around his shoulders, clinging to him to keep from laying on the bed. "Not like this—my stitches," you whispered.

Miguel froze for a second before placing a hand behind your back to help you up. "How do you want it?" He asked quietly. You took a second and bit your lip as you considered the myriad of ways he could fuck you.

"Like before," you decided finally.

His subtle smile returned, and he rolled off of your body and onto the bed. Pulling yourself up, you straddled him again, though perhaps not so fast since you were still hazy from your orgasm. His hands guided you back down to where his cock was waiting for you.

Miguel rested his head on your good shoulder as you lowered yourself slowly back down on him. His hot breath fanned against your skin as he groaned at the feeling of your wet pussy around him. You let out a strangled gasp, feeling yourself stretch out again for him. You moved slowly, still halfway stuck in the stupor his mouth had left you in, and everything was still so sensitive for you.

Gradually, you began moving again. Miguel's arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing his body up against yours. His skin felt like fire—burning, consuming, enthralling. You rested your head against his as his strong arms helped lift you up and down his length.

"You feel so fucking good," he grunted quietly against your cheek. "You don't understand...what you do to me." Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder as he spoke. The movement of his cock inside you made it difficult for you to formulate a response, but you managed to choke out, "Tell me. Tell me what I do to you."

He groaned softly. "You drive me fucking crazy," he muttered. "I can never focus when you're with me—," he groaned again, "—but I can never stop thinking about you when you're not." His arms were moving you up and down faster as he spoke, and you could tell he was fucking out his frustration. "The way you smell," he continued breathlessly, "the way you feel, the way you look when you're cumming all over my cock."

You gasped sharply, the combination of his words and his increasingly desperate pace rendering you speechless. "I want to have you every second...of every day," he murmured in your ear. You were panting hard against his skin while his cock continued driving deep into your aching cunt.

"Then have me," you whispered so quietly that he wouldn't have heard it over the lewd sounds of your fucking if it hadn't been said directly in his ear. "Have me every day."

He groaned, and turning his face, he captured your lips in a kiss. The taste of your pussy still lingered on his mouth, and you moaned softly against his lips. Everything felt so good, and when you broke away from your kiss, you looked deep into Miguel’s eyes and whispered, “I’m yours.”

And just like that, Miguel's body tensed, and with a long moan against your skin, he came inside you. You stilled as he held you tightly against his body. Beside the sound of your heart beating furiously in your ears, there was only your heavy breathing to fill the silence between you.

You could've stayed like that forever, feeling his strong arms wrapped around your body, hearing his breath against your ear. Your body still buzzed with pleasure, and there was nothing in your mind except that cursed phrase you fought so hard to ignore, the one that whispered to you constantly in the back of your brain every time you looked at Miguel.

I love you.

Over and over, it echoed in your mind, begging to be spoken. You'd heard it nagging in your heart for a while now, and you had tried your best to ignore it. Even after weeks of next to no contact, your feelings hadn't wavered for him.

Now, as you sat there wrapped in each other's arms, you felt those words ringing louder than ever, and for one dreadful moment, you thought you might say it out loud.

No—no, you couldn't. A bolt of fear yanked the words off your tongue. You couldn't jeopardize this. It was too precious to you. Even if this was all you could have, the occasional fuck, sleeping together knowing that he would always have to leave for something more important than yourself—wasn't it better than nothing? Wasn't it better than before when you were all alone? Especially now that he admitted to feeling something real for you, you couldn't ruin it with those three words.

Miguel finally moved when he turned his head toward yours. Your noses brushed against each other for moment as you both gasped for breath before your lips pressed down on his. You moaned against him softly. Still holding your body to his, he leaned back against the bed, bringing you down with him so that you lay on his chest.

After your breathing began leveling out, you shifted, allowing his cock to pull out of you with a groan. You slid off his chest onto your good shoulder with your body still pressed against his. You lay there like that for a while in comfortable silence, enjoying the feeling of each other's warm skin.

"It's been too long," Miguel sighed, finally breaking the silence. You smiled. "And whose fault is that?" You asked as you looked up at him. A small smile formed on his lips. "You were the one who swore you'd catch Ghost," he pointed out. "Is it my fault for believing you?"

You scoffed. "It's your fault for making that stupid rule in the first place," you argued. There was a quiet chuckle that rumbled in his chest. "It's called compromise, sweetheart," he said smoothly. "I can't let you have everything you want."

You tried to keep a straight face, but his snark caused your lips to quirk upward. "And why not?" You demanded to know, propping yourself up onto your elbow to look deep in his eyes.

Miguel looked at you with a subtle smile still adorning his face. "Because then everyone is going to complain about how I favor you over everyone else," he replied evenly. "And then, one by one, they'll all leave until it's just you and me."

You hummed thoughtfully. "That doesn't sound so bad," you said, settling back down next to him. "Just you and me against the multiverse."

He hummed as well. "Just you and me," he repeated, and in his voice, you could hear him imagining it, the two of you together across every universe.

You had imagined it before, too. You and Miguel, together, always, through everything. It was such a sweet dream, and yet the truth was the bitter chaser that always followed your longing—different dimensions, different lives. What future could you have together?

If Miguel was thinking the same thing, he didn't say it. He seemed content to just lay with you in silence while his fingers gently caressed your arm.

After a moment, you sighed. You could feel Miguel's head turn to look down at you in curiosity.

"You know, I meant what I said before," you told him softly.

"Hmm?"

"About being more than just a fling you can ignore outside of the bedroom," you explained.

"Ah."

You felt his head turn back up to stare at the ceiling, but his fingers still brushed against your skin. "I mean, is that what you still want?" You asked, lifting your gaze to look at his face. "Be honest."

There was a beat of silence before he quietly answered, "No."

You waited, hoping he would say more. He sounded almost reluctant in his reply, so you could tell there was more to it.

It was Miguel's turn to sigh. "I don't—I don't want this to be casual either," he began slowly. "I want it to be real, but I can't give up my work here. I won't. And one day, you'll hate me for not putting you first."

You scoffed lightly at those last words. "I could never hate you," you told him. There was a slight pause before he muttered, "Don't be so sure."

It could've been a joke, but the way he said it was so serious, it made you pause, and looking up at his face, you found there wasn't any traces of humor. You pushed yourself up a bit to face him better. His eyes moved back to you, and you held his stare for a moment.

"I could never hate you," you repeated in a soft, earnest whisper. Miguel didn't respond, he only watched you carefully before a tiny, sad smile pulled at his lips, looking as though he wanted to believe you.

"Careful," he murmured. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

You smirked at him and leaned in close. "I'll try my best not to," you said before closing the gap between your lips. He kissed you gently before pulling away to say, "And I'll try—about what you want, I'll try."

Your heart leapt, and there wasn't anything you could do to contain your smile. "Thank you," you whispered before kissing him again. You could feel him grinning against your lips, and his arms pulled you close. When you broke apart, you settled back down next to him.

"If they all start complaining though, I'm blaming you," he said. You chuckled. "Fair is fair," you replied. "If they don't like it, they can leave." He huffed in amusement. "Until it's just you and me?" He asked.

"Until it's just you and me."

159 notes · View notes

mechanicalpiper · 11 days

Note

Hey so I know your busy doing important things (And hearts out for whatever your doing) but I just had another idea come to mind that maybe you could put in a catalog for the future!

"Villain has just been defeated in a long battle by Hero and has decided to try a bit of seduction to win the day. However, Hero is Touch Starved to hell and back and cries at the slightest nice touch/caress"

Bonus points for some heart clenching fluff

Yours truly!

Cooper

You ever procrastinate so hard you start and finish an entirely different project?

By FAR the sappiest and most hurt/comfort-y I've done and was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy :3

Snippet #8

The sounds of strike after strike rang out through the empty city street.

Hero and Villain were once more locked in a tense brawl- nothing new, of course. It had become second nature to them by now- when you spend almost every other day scrapping with the same person for years, it's not hard to get used to it. Hell, with how familiar the two had gotten with each other's fighting styles by now, it was easy for either of them to just let their mind wander while they brawled if they just weren't feeling too up to it that day.

Hero was certainly having one of those days.

They semi-consciously blocked Villain's strikes and threw blows back, less like they were brawling for the safety of the city and more like they were doing a boring day job. An entirely different focus was on their mind... one that had stuck around for a while now. A thought? A worry? A feeling, or the lack of one? Hero couldn't tell by now.

They quickly ducked out of the way just in time as Villain threw a kick at their head, knocking them out of their train of thought and back into full consciousness.

Yeah, fuck, they were fighting Villain. Almost forgot.

Villain certainly took notice of their sudden attention. "Oh, THERE you are. C'mon, can't you at least focus? It's so much less fun when you zone out like that."

"Whuh-? Pff, fun? I'm here to stop you from committing murder, not for a little playdate." Hero grumbled back at their rival, still not fully back at attention.

"Hm. Certainly not the attitude from our first battle. Losing your touch, maybe?" Villain taunted back.

"You wish."

"I don't think I need to. You seem to be dulling just fine without help."

"Still sharper than you. I was winning without paying attention! You couldn't beat my subconscious, how do you expect to beat the rest of me?" As Hero shot back, a tiny smile began to form on their face. Wow, it's been a while since they've bantered in combat like this... it felt nice to just speak with someone, even if that someone was Villain, of all people.

"PFFFF. Winning? The only reason you're not bleeding out on the concrete right now is because I'm having fun with this. I spared you there, y'know~" Villain taunted, a confident grin on their face.

"Yeah, riiiight. How about you actually do something threatening before making simple empty thr-"

Hero was cut off by a sudden feeling- they brought a forearm up to block a strike from Villain, but instead of the expected punch, they felt a grab.

A... grab?

Hero froze in place for the slightest moment.

It was only a split second, but it felt like ages, as if their brain was desperately trying to to cling onto the brief moment. The slightest sensation.

Villain's touch was soft.

Yet, despite everything, the moment was still over far too quickly. Hero hardly even considered why Villain would go for a grab in the moment- by the time they processed the fact it was an attack, it was far too late.

Villain turned around to throw Hero against the concrete wall of the building behind them.

They let out a yelp of pain as they slammed backwards into the wall. After the touch, the motion of being thrown, the hard hit... Hero was far too disoriented to get back into action, let alone stay balanced. Unable to stand up, they just slid down against the wall with a small groan of pain until they found themself at a sitting position, defeated.

Villain let out a small, cocky giggle, stepping closer to Hero to look down at them.

Hero, while still rather disoriented, looked up to see Villain towering over them. ...Wow.

"Is that 'threatening' enough for you, sweetie~?" Villain taunted once more, looking down at the defeated Hero with cocky confidence. God, they loved the feeling of the weakened Hero looking up at them. Always felt nice to win against them.

Hero was already ignoring the pain.

Their brain latched onto that one word- one Villain didn't so much as emphasize saying, like it was nothing special.

Sweetie??

A pet name. A pet name??? Villain called them a pet name??? Sure, they've heard of it being used for taunting before, and really never thought much of it, but- but something about it felt so, so different. When was the last time they were acknowledged like that? Was there a last time? Why did just being acknowledged feel so good? Fuck, they shouldn't like this, they were beat up and lying against a wall with their arch nemesis towering over them, taunting them, but- but not k-killing them? It shouldn't feel... c-comforting, should it?...

...'Sweetheart'...

Villain just looked down at Hero, their cocky expression switched to mild confusion. They certainly didn't react like they were in much pain... Hero's face wasn't that red before, was it?

"Hm. Losing focus agai-"

Hero shook their head 'no' almost instantly, cutting Villain off in mild surprise. They were definitely paying attention, alright, but...

Villain slightly cocked their head at Hero, thinking for a moment. The pause was only a second or two, though. They were quick to get back to teasing, assuming they were simply overthinking a weird reaction.

"Hmmm~" they muttered, crouching down to get level with their defeated rival, keeping that same smug, satisfied look.

"See? I could've taken you out like that aaany time I wanted~"

Hero looked off to the side, as if trying to hide from the other's gaze- Villain's confidence only grew seeing the embarrassment they wanted out of Hero.

At least, what they saw as embarrassment. While that certainly was an aspect of it... it wasn't why Hero's attention diverted like that. Their thoughts weren't the feelings of humiliation and defeat Villain assumed.

An entirely different focus was on their mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling, or the lack of one?

It could be any of them. It could depend on the circumstance. It could technically fall under every one of them, with the right logic.

Hero didn't know nor care.

All they knew is what it felt like right now.

It's a fear.

A fear of this. This emotion.

The first time in memory they've felt so... acknowledged, so strangely comfy- the only time they could have this feeling was when their nemesis was using it to taunt them. The only thing they were ever really seen or known for is their protection of the city. The Agency was obviously impersonal and corporate, other Heroes saw them as an antisocial business partner, the citizens of course only liked them for the protection, and they had nobody else outside of that despite their years of previous efforts.

The only value others saw in them was the tangible benefit they provided. The only value they saw in themself was just that. They so, so badly wanted this feeling of comfort, but they so, so deeply believed they didn't deserve it.

Believed the only way they could ever be worth loving is when it was a punishment like this.

All Villain saw was Hero looking off to the side. Zoning out again? They mumbled something to themself, leaning down just a little more.

Hero didn't always used to do that. It had them worried, honestly. It only began somewhat recently, but it was absolutely constant.

Villain felt bad. Yeah, their public motive was always money or power or whatever evil plot they had for the week would accomplish, and while those certainty were good benefits, they weren't the reason they did it.

They did it for Hero.

They weren't joking when they said they were messing with them for fun earlier. It started as just a want to fight, but the second they came across Hero, they couldn't keep themself away. At first it was simply their fighting style being fun, as Villain justified it to themself. Then the wit in their banter was more entertaining than others. Then they provided the biggest challenge. Then... well, Villain couldn't deny a sense of warmth when they were around Hero.

They had so much personality, so much energy, but as time passed it felt like they got less so. Villain was almost scared to watch it. Not because it was more fun to fight them, but rather... well, they had to admit to themself they just didn't want to see Hero so thoroughly unhappy. So sapped of life.

Villain took one hand and gently swooped it under Hero's chin, turning their head back to face them and lifting their chin a little. Hero flinched a little, but didn't pull back.

"Hey. Pay attention, sweetie."

Hero's breathing got slightly quicker. Shallower. Starting off subtle, it ramped up.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, hOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.

The feeling of Villain's hand was the best thing they'd ever felt. In their life. They didn't know anything could be this soft, any temperature could be this comforting and warm, that any grip could be so firm yet gentle, that any gaze could be so powerful yet soft- they were completely hyperventilating, tears welling in their eyes. They didn't want to trust it, but they wanted the comfort too badly to treat this rationally. They'd never felt anything so unbelievably wonderful. They wanted it so, so bad.

Villain couldn't stop themself from gasping. They certainly weren't expecting that reaction, but seeing Hero just break down like that, they were absolutely overcome with the heat of the moment need to just... protect them. Comfort them.

Only a moment later, the two simultaneously fell into an impulsive hug.

Villain squeezed Hero tightly against them as Hero buried their face in Villain's shoulder. Hero completely stopped thinking about their doubts- only one thing mattered right now, and that was Villain. It was so unbelievably comfy, warm, happy, soft, safe... years of built up serotonin was flooding out all at once, and it only got better as Villain brought one hand up from the hug to run it through Hero's hair.

They'd never been this much of an absolute mess. They'd never been this happy in their life.

Villain just continued holding Hero tight.

Minutes passed. Neither wanted the moment to end.

But finally, after what felt like years, Hero's breathing finally began to get deeper again. Villain let out a relived sigh, though didn't quite let go yet, allowing Hero's tears to dry and breathing to fully steady. Villain stayed patient as Hero got calmer and calmer until their desperate squeeze against Villain finally relaxed.

Hero felt the safest they ever had, and Villain couldn't be happier. The idea that they were rivals didn't even cross either of their minds- it just felt so right.

"...How're you feeling?"

Hero answered in a quiet, vulnerable, satisfied whisper, more emotion in their voice than Villain had ever heard.

"...n-needed this."

For the first time in ages, an entirely new focus was on Hero's mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling?

They were certainly leaning towards it being a feeling.

That feeling was love.

#heroes and villains #writeblr #creative writing #wholesome #writing snippet #writing #cuddles #hurt/comfort #villain x hero #heroxvillain #hero x villain #hero x villain community

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works-of-heart · 22 days

Text

"E/riel has plot!"

What plot? If they're already 'in love,' what's the plot for them to fall in love?

Oh Forbidden romance?

...You mean how Elain ISN'T FORCED AT ALL to accept this mating bond? How literally no one is forcing her hand one way or another and it's up to HER whether she wants to accept her mate or not?

How Rhys challenged Azriel to show he had ANY feelings beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to, but fell short?

Or how Rhys said that if Elain DID choose to reject it, that she would have their support? (Clearly Rhysand isn't standing in the way if Azriel's feelings for her were anything beyong "the fantasies he pleasured himself to." or could at least say with his chest he was over Mor.

Oh, you mean the tons of other 'theories' that e/riel has come up with that literally destroys all the character/ story build up she's been writing? Having an SA survivor be evil and luring men. Or having that character not be involved at all (Because you know, THAT plot threatens your ship.)

Oh riiight, the millions of different kinds of 'mate' theories. How ONLY Elucien's bond is the wrong one, but everyone else's? They're right! Even though, Lucien shares the SAME mating qualities that Rhysand and Cassian share. The longing stares, (Azriel had that for Mor too before Moriel got retconned. Don't worry Az, there's a fiery red haired beauty waiting for you!), the concern, the mate desire and the chant of "you are mine and I am yours." Sounds like Lucien's bond fits right alongside the others doesn't it?

The plots they claim would literally take Lucien's HEA away, despite SJM's OWN WORDS that there was 'someone special' for him, then making him mates with ELAIN. Then going on to say that there's a great deal of Tension, growth and HEALING for them( TOGETHER). Oh, look! That sounds like PLOT doesn't it? A plot of healing tension and growth! Something that SJM is known for in her books. Something Feyre, and Nesta got. Interesting.

Lucien is carrying the story in the Background. He has his hands dipped in Koschei, Vassa and Jurien, Beron and Eris, Spring court, Day court (finding out his true heritage), Emissary to Night court and Ally (As Rhys clearly explains).

Hmmmm. It sounds to me like Lucien has a TON of plot surrounding him. Elain being a seer, being said that Spring court was built for her. Her scent is the "Promise of Spring." (Who is currently stationed in spring court? Oh, Lucien, her mate! Look at that, it's already set up! =D) Even Rhysand states that we haven't seen all there is to Elain, and yet SJM is prepping her to go to spring.

Tell me, how does E/riel fit into spring? Do we need yet another contradicting 'plot/theory' to make it work?

The way Az's shadows don't run from Gwyn, they dance with her. They don't raise up alarm (which let's be real, if she was evil, his shadows would ABSOLUTELY tell Azriel to be cautious. Instead, they sit calmly at his shoulders. They're playful and sing.) Azriel not having to hide his scars, not having to think negative, degrating thoughts about himself while he's with Gwyn. The spark in his chest he got at the thought of her teal eyes lighting up. A thing of secret lovely beauty (Not a thing of deciept and magic). And no, he never got a spark in his chest for Elain.

The tie to Valkyrie and Illyrians, there's banter and laughter between them. Nesta being Gwyn's chosen sister, Cassian being Az's chosen brother. Think of the cute double dates they'd have!

If E/riel needs to make people who SJM have literally set up to have epic stories 'villains' or have them die, or not even exist for the ship to work, if their HEA includes ruining entire plots and stories, butchering characters, then it isn't very good now is it?

Meanwhile, Elucien and Gwynriel are set up to have intrigue, healing and growth for BOTH of the couples. I dunno, you can call the bad character breaking theories 'plots' if you want. If that helps you believe in your ship, sure? I rest easy knowing SJM isn't out here trying to rewrite her WHOLE entire story and throw out everything she wrote in the garbage, just to make ONE ship happen when she said there were clearly 2.

#elucien #pro elucien #elucien supremacy #elain x lucien #anti e/riel #pro gwynriel #gwynriel

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nova-streyart · 8 months

Text

The Thing about Belos Nobody Mentions

There's an aspect of Belos I haven't seen anyone talk about yet: him potentially being on the schizophrenia spectrum, or schizospec for short, and everything that means. Before you say anything, I am a schizoaffective person. This is my interpretation. This is based off my own experiences with this disorder, and my own research.

Analysis and rant under the cut:

=ANALYSIS=

So this all started when I learned that one of the color design pieces had Caleb and the grimwalkers labelled "Golden Guard Illusion". Artists credited in the image itself.

It's weird to me that they're labeled as illusions and not hallucinations, because the latter is what the ghosts actually are. Illusions are images your brain distorts based off something that's there, while hallucinations are images your brain creates from nothing. The fact that these ghosts are actually hallucinations of Belos and not real ghosts doesn't say a whole lot about Belos on its own, because anyone can hallucinate if they experience intense enough negative emotions. But you'll see why I think there's something more to this.

Following this lead, I rewatched the scene where Papa Titan talks to Luz in the In-Between realm in the series finale. After Luz asks him whether her motivation to save her friends and family makes her just as bad as Belos, she tells her:

"Well, you assume Belos' goal comes from a genuine place. But that man doesn't care about anything but his need to be the hero in his own delusion."

Let me give you a short lesson about delusions in the context of schizospec disorders: Delusions are firmly held beliefs that the person experiencing can't be convinced aren't true. This can be extremely serious and life-threatening, such as as believing all your food's been poisoned. But it can also be harmless; it really depends on the delusion. The type of delusion referenced here would be a delusion of grandeur, which is a real thing in schizospec disorders. Such delusions can be serious, like believing you're the second coming of god, or more harmless, like believing you're better than others.

Taking both the hallucinations and the delusion into mind, it's very possible that Belos has some kind of schizospec disorder.

=RANT=

Let's talk about that scene where Belos goes to the grimwalker cave. Notice how the hallucinations are played for laughs? That's problematic. Hallucinations are not something you can just tell to "shut up" and they'll go away. Hallucinations are not things you can interact with. There's already other media with this problem, such as A Beautiful Mind, but the fact that it's in a show that's supposed to be celebrating neurodivergence is hypocritical.

Let's briefly go back to that Papa Titan quote. See how he used the word "delusion" to describe Belos' motivation?Yeah, that's really problematic in the schizospec community. As mentioned before, delusions can be life threatening, so tossing that word around like it's nothing is really frustrating and insulting. The show should have used a word like "fantasy" to get its point across more effectively if it was implying that Belos has a hero complex.

Continuing this train of thought, it gets worse when you consider how Papa Titan- and in essence the narrative- is essentially ridiculing Belos for experiencing a very intense delusion. Delusions are not something a schizospec person can control. I've already seen the fandom mocking Belos for this quality. It was one of those awful memes with the caption "schizophrenia," and had audio of markiplier doing a bit where he was bantering with an "inner voice". Such memes are awful because they're not real experiences schizospec people go through. They're assumptions about our experiences non-schizospec people make about us.

That would be the worst of it, but no, it gets far worse when you consider a few things:

Belos is the main antagonist. That would be annoying enough, considering the plethora of mentally ill villains in media, but nope. The narrative also treats him as this purely evil being who is incapable of any good whatsoever. Which, OK. It's possible for a schizospec person to be a monster. But the fact that the only schizospec representation we have is either of us as helpless victims, or as irredeemable monsters, is infuriating.

Belos is clearly meant to be a foil to Luz. Which, congrats to the show for having a neurodivergent lead, but let me tell you about some of the hardships schizospec people face: In real life, schizospec people are cast out of mental health advocacy groups. Schizospec people are treated as subhuman by doctors and psychiatrists. Schizospec people are demonized and vilified by society. Schizospec people are denied jobs and housing. With all this in mind the fact the narrative chooses to glorify a character with the "right," the "acceptable," kind of neurodivergence while berating a character with the "scary," the "monstrous," kind of neurodivergence is absolutely disgusting.

=CONCLUSION=

I feel like it has to be said that I am not condoning Belos' actions, or trying to woobify him. Belos, as a person, was terrible. No amount of mental illness tacked onto him will excuse any of his actions.

I'm also not trying to imply that schizospec characters can't be evil. I'm just saying that it's extremely tiresome that the only representation we get is either us as victims or as villains.

To conclude all of this, please, do your research before adding something like this into your story.

#long post #rant post #toh critical #toh criticism #belos #toh belos #emperor belos #philip wittebane #toh philip wittebane

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tremblingmuse · 1 year

Note

Omg you're a godsend I love your stories so damn much. Could I request “You’re lucky you’re cute.” “Thanks! Wait…” and/or “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re flirting with me.” “I am.” “Excuse me?”

With Nico? Or wally

Thank youuuu!!

I’m killing two birds with one stone for this one!

Thanks everyone for being so patient! I took a little break. It’s the start of summer blues.

Prompt 8 for Wally Clark

“Well, I do.”

Y/n has known Wally for years. When you’ve been stuck at the same high school for a few decades you tend to become friends.

Sometimes you know each other so well, the friendly conversations can turn into flirty banter.

The gang was having their monthly round of hide and seek. Rhonda was seeking, she loved chanting “Come out, come out. Where ever you are…” in a creepy tone down the vacant halls.

Y/n found the perfect spot, a small crawl space in the back of the art room. Wally just had to follow her.

“No get out of here!” Y/n whispered, trying to shoo him.

“You don’t just get to claim spots, we can share!” He told her, scooting into the small space with her. He covered it up with a piece of board that was over it before.

“Just because I’m the reigning champion does not mean you can freeload off of me.”

It was true. She was unfindable. She always spent all month preparing different spots. A few she can run from and then too, just in case.

Wally always tried his best but he was always found first.

“But you’re so selfless, and kind. I was hoping you’d be willing to make an acceptation for your dear friend.” He loaded on complements.

“Awe, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.” She told him in a sarcastic tone while rolling her eyes.

“I am.”

She looked at him, well tried to. It was dark and she couldn’t make out his face well. But it didn’t seem like he was joking.

Her breathe hitched. It was stuck in her throat.

“What?” She whispered, questioning if she heard him right.

Because if he said what she thinks he said, that would be absolutely ridiculous.

They both froze when they heard Rhonda’s taunting voice. She opened the door and stepped in the room.

Y/n covered Wally’s mouth. She’d deal with him later, she’s not loosing because of him.

Her heart raced as heat radiated off him in the small space. Also because Rhonda’s footsteps made their way to the counter. Where they were hiding.

After what felt like hours of waiting for the worst. It sounded like she left. Her voice trailed down the halls as she sang and teased her next victim.

If Y/n was a master hider, Rhonda was the perfect horror movie villain she was hiding from.

She slowly removed her hand, Wally swallowed hard.

“Did you say you were flirting with me?” She asked, hushed.

He didn’t skip a beat.

“Yeah, did you not know?” He asked as if it was the most obvious think in the world. “I have been, for like ever.”

She relaxed back to her original position. Contemplating.

He had been flirting with her? For how long?

“No, I didn’t know.” She quipped, crossing her arms.

Wally let out a small laugh. He corrected it immediately.

“Sorry, it’s just- I thought you...” He cleared his throat.

“I thought you liked me? No way.” She interrupted.

Wally tilted his head. Of course he liked her. He has since she’s been stuck in this horrible purgatory with him.

“Well I do.” He stated. “And now this in awkward.”

He shifted in place, trying to find something other than her face to occupy his mind.

“Why?” She asked, filling the painful silence.

It wasn’t hard for him to answer.

“Cause, you organize all these games. You make being dead kinda fun. I’ve been a lot less miserable since you came around.”

She paused, trying to find a response that didn’t make her sound uninterested or desperate. She settled on a simple explanation.

“Well it’s the least I can do, you guys have helped me a lot. I wasn’t always like this.” She told him.

“I know.”

Her head jerked to look at him, in question. She was a little disturbed. “Okay, stalker.”

“Wait no-“

“First you follow me to a small dark room, then tell me you know what I was like before I died. Sounds stalkerish to me.” She laughed.

Of course she was joking, she knew most of the living kids by names. Knew their schedules and lives. She wanted what was best for them, she was pretty protective over the kids at school. She hoped Wally felt the same when she was living.

“It’s just… I always kinda saw you.” He looked at her with those eyes again. The eyes that wanted something from her.

“Well what do you want? This is flattering but I’m not sure what it means.” She admitted not so gracefully.

“Well I’d love to kiss you, but you have your game face on.”

He’s right. She took these games very seriously.

“Meet me when I win this thing. Now out.” She pointed to the board between them and the classroom.

His eyes told her. “Come on.”

“Go on, out. Plenty of time for flirting when I’m victorious. You’re bad luck.”

“Fine.”

“And don’t rat me out! You’ll pay…”

#milo manheim #x reader #school spirits #fanfic #wally clark #wally clark x reader

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straightforthefl00r · 6 months

Text

the world in a breath

Laid at the base of a mountain of rubble, you could smell the sharp sting of iron in the air. It was a wasteland.

You could feel the even sharper stab in your side.

The hero you were fighting was just a little too fast; you were a little too slow and a little too cocky for once. Dabi always told you not to be so full of yourself. You always replied that he loved it, really. He always rolled his eyes then. However, it was too late when pain bloomed above your right hip.

You let out a breathless chuckle. You swear you saw him fighting close by you, but, now, he was nowhere to be found. What you would not give to hear his voice bantering with yours. You could imagine what he would say if he saw you like this.

“Well… I told you so, didn’t I? I said that if you don’t pay attention and actually - you know - think for once, you would end up like this.”

Even in your imagination, he was an insufferable fuck. You let out a breathless chuckle. Oh, the good old times. You missed him.

After you escaped the hero, your wound had split and climbed. There was now a long tear in your flesh, running diagonally across your stomach. You could picture the trail of hot blood you left in your wake. Long cold by now.

You groaned in pain.

Too much blood. You have lost too much, haven’t you? Will you die? Are you finally tired of fighting? Heroes against villains and the likes, who cares anymore? A ringing noise that you did not hear before started to deafen your other thoughts.

Your head killed. Maybe you should have been more prepared. Maybe you should have told him. Time, after all, was never on your side.

Cotton started to numb your senses. It never felt so gentle before.

Closing your eyes, you fell into the softness.

You could have been laying there in a pool of blood hours, dipping in and out of consciousness, before you smelt the familiar smell of smoke. It always lingered around like a shadow, but it was stronger now.

“What the fuck happened to you?” An alarmed voice called out.

If you were not so tired, you would have replied with something drenched in sarcasm (“ I wasn’t stabbed at all, clearly,”) but you stayed silent.

“Oi, get up.” He sounded so far away, despite his close presence.

“Open your eyes!”

He was trying to lift you up now, You could not help the weak hiss that escaped your lips. Your eyes fluttered open.

Dabi was always sharp, as pointed as glass and as unforgiving as his flames. Seeped in the ways of a true cynic, he never cared. He held his secrets so close that they were stitched into the very fabric of his being. Dabi was an ass. He was never considerate and he never talked simply. His words were always cryptic and scathing.

“Touya.” You breathed. Your vision was blurred, but you could make out the cloud-coloured hair. He held you so urgently, as if you were the world that was about to slip from his fingertips.

“Thought I was going to need to kiss you awake.” He joked, voice trembling.

He touched your cheek; you were cold in his arms — frightfully so.

“Let’s get you back to base, okay?”

He tried as delicately as he could to pick you up bridal-style, careful not to jostle you too much. Your blood stained his clothes and dripped onto his arms, mingling with his own. He started to run.

He had just finished burning up a hero and left to look for you since you had run off. Dabi was not worried about it — he would never let himself be — but Touya was. He was nauseous when he saw you lying there surrounded by rubble. The mask he tried so hard to curate and keep up was now shedded.

You gazed hazily up at him. Touya’s face was contorted into one worry and concern. Your normally animated face was still and there, in place of it, was a small frown. It looked as if you were trying to burn his face into your memory. Your eyelids started to flicker; you were getting awfully tired. You wanted to sleep.

“Hey, idiot. Keep your, fucking eyes, open.” His voice raised slightly, panting.

“I-I don’t think I can.”

He could barely hear your voice. You sounded so fragile, after all this time knowing you, you were never fragile, far from it.

“Abso-fucking-lately you can.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Listen to me for once!”

He slowed down. You let out a breath and breathed in again

In and out.

“Okay, doll. You don’t want to open your eyes fine. Fucking fine, but keep breathing.”

In and out.

“Yes, that’s it. We’re almost there, in and out.”

Your breathing began to slow. Touya was so soft and warm, you leaned your head closer to his chest — so warm.

You tried to wrench your eyes open. He looked so pretty and red. Your frown deepened. Touya was never red, always blue. You lifted your hand to touch his cheek. Blood. Your heart sank. He cried blood.

“I love you.”

It was so quiet that Touya could hardly hear it.

His eyes darted back down to you again, shock was evident in his eyes. Your hand was freezing against his cheek.

He was not about to let you go. You could not just do this.

It sounded like goodbye.

“Fucking save your breath,” He muttered almost as quietly as you, “Don’t say that.”

“I love you…”

“Stop!”

Your eyes were shut again, breathing even slower and weaker than before.

In and … out.

“I love you too, you hear me?”

Nothing.

“Get those eyes open now!”

Touya stopped in his tracks, shaking and praying to any god out there, begging to anyone for you to still be there. Your body in his arms was a cold comfort. He could barely gather his strength to look down again.

You were still.

So, utterly, still.

He looked down, eyes lingering over your features one by one. He saw you breathe in, then out.

In, then, out.

And then, you did not breathe in again.

Touya dropped to his knees, feeling light headed and like the earth had just collapsed on him. His bloody tears dripped onto your face. He wiped them off of your beautiful face, his other arm still clutching you. He could not help but stare. He stared and stared at you.

He thought of all the times you smiled at him, a beaming smile, as bright as fire. Teeth and all. He thought of all the times you frowned at him for overusing his quirk, the pained sighs you made as you stapled him back together. His chest was heavy with all the memories he had of you. He thought that he was being crushed by the weight of everything.

He was in agony.

He screamed.

The world in a breath.

Gone.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #touya x reader #mha #bnha #ao3 fanfic #cross posted #headingstraightforthefl00r #angst #no comfort #lysa.xo writes

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luna-rainbow · 9 days

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Thoughts about this quote from AM about how Sam doesn't trust Bucky and will probably never completely forgive him for being the Winter Soldier?

Here's the link to the tweet I saw (I don't know how to include screenshots sorry 😭😭):

https://twitter.com/DianneR_99/status/1785867853238833641?t=NUhkilfwG2guZQx31-b82g&s=19

It's apparently from the official Marvel Studios' collector special TFATWS book.

Why is it so hard for people at Marvel to acknowledge that Bucky is a victim not some reformed villain?

(Also please feel free to ignore this ask, I know people have been dogpiled in the past for being slightly critical of AM and the last thing I want is for you to get hate because of me.)

It’s okay I think I’ve blocked most of them, or they’ve gotten tired of dogpiling me and blocked me. If I’ve missed anyone feel free to announce yourselves to get a block 😌

Thanks for bringing this to my attention!

I’ve said in other asks about AM’s comments on Bucky, I never blame an actor for not understanding the nuances of another character. That’s not his job. Understanding Bucky is the job of Sebastian Stan and the writers.

However, I know it’s tempting to compare him to CEvans, who had always spoken so affectionately of Bucky. Remember that Bucky’s story in the movies was complementary to Steve’s, meaning that CEvans had to understand Bucky's tragedy in order to understand Steve’s pain and guilt. To CEvans/Steve, it was important that Bucky was a wronged hero, because it rationalises why Steve would go such lengths to help him. For the entire trilogy, Bucky, and particularly Bucky's suffering, was very much impetus for Steve’s personal journey and growth. I've talked about the narrative motifs in other meta and I want to emphasise I don't mean this from a shipping lens - I mean that thematically, events that happen to Bucky have always been a major driver for Steve to make important narrative choices, and it is true even if you see their relationship as platonic.

Which…I guess brings us to the crux of the disk horse that brought about this tweet. No, Bucky is in no way important personally or narratively to Sam. Sam doesn’t grow or change because he cares about Bucky, although fortunately at least Bucky’s TFATWS arc involves him growing because he cares about Sam. We know Bucky is not personally or narratively important to Sam because of what AM has just said — Sam will always see Bucky as the guy who tore off his wings and kicked him off a helicarrier. Not a WW2 war hero, not a prisoner of war tortured into blank amnesia, not a survivor who had to rebuild most of his identity ground up, not a veteran living with PTSD without any social supports. These same views are echoed by his fans, who will scoff at everything I’ve said above and say we’re trying to “woobify a white fave” without knowing what woobify means. Sam does not care about what Bucky has been through, we know because the writing of the story has told AM that it is not important to understand who Bucky is or what Bucky has been through. All AM needs to do is to banter with this guy like he’s still annoyed at him over an incident 10 years ago when he had amnesia.

Again, I don't blame AM for this, because he can only work with what the writers have told him about the intended relationship between Sam and Bucky. And to be fair, he plays it like it is. At no point does it feel like Sam values or trusts Bucky beyond "annoying guy I put up with for work". I know some fans like to point to the Louisiana scene as proof that Sam trusts Bucky and has him as part of the family -- which would be great fanon if 1) AM didn't just contradict that and b) Sam spends most of the deleted scenes calling Bucky "the Winter Soldier" like the guy had any say in the moniker. And no, Bucky confessing his deeds to Yori is not Bucky reclaiming his identity as the Winter Soldier.

This is not an indictment on the ship, by the way, because you can wrangle canon to make it work, and shipping has been built on far less. I've got nearly 50k words on AO3 proving I've tried. But TFATWS canon is full of things happening off camera and the truth is...we never saw mutual trust and affection on camera between the two men. We saw two guys perpetually annoyed at and annoying to each other, and AM just gave the reason why.

#tfatws critical #fandom wank #asks

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save-the-villainous-cat · 3 months

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hiii love your writing omg could you do like. enemies with benefits banter. (w hero x villain obvi) (eg u don’t have to do the nsfw but like the banter)

“So.”

“So?”

The hero crossed their arms in front of their chest as their eyes scanned the villain. From their feet right up to their head. As always, their eyes were hypnotising and the villain almost got a little too distracted.

Sometimes they wished they weren’t as invested as they were. Sometimes they wished they returned to their bitter and cold self.

But, Christ, they were so much happier.

“Is there something you would like to confess?” the hero asked. They almost sounded disappointed.

“Uhh…like how I’d rather watch you undress right now?”

The hero tilted their head and took a step forward. Immediately, the villain could see how their grip on their weapon tightened and instinctively, the villain reached for their own. They were gonna get their ass kicked if they didn’t make the right moves.

“What?” the hero asked, smirking now. “Are you scared?”

“Scared or turned on. Haven’t really decided yet.” Within seconds, the hero managed to push the villain against the wall. One hand on the villain’s shoulder, pinning them against the hard wall, the other still holding the hero’s weapon — a gun this time — and pressing it against the villain’s jaw.

“Well, you better figure out what you’re feeling in the next few seconds because I’m just gonna ask once. You robbed a bank this morning. Where’s the money?”

“Already spent all of it,” the villain said. They shrugged but had to smile when the hero’s eyes widened in shock.

“On what?”

“Oh, I just…” The villain’s fingertips touched the hero’s wrist gently and followed the large scar down the hero’s forearm. They remembered the injury a little too well. A badly broken arm that had needed months to recover fully. To be honest, they didn’t even need the money. They just (desperately) wanted the hero’s attention. “…I just wanted to spoil a certain someone. You know. Dinner, vacation, shopping. All that stuff.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Despite their words, the hero was blushing. Their grip around their gun loosened as they were lost in thought and the villain seized the opportunity to turn the tables and grab the hero and turn them. As a result, they pushed them against the wall, making sure they were gentle with the hero’s ribs. They were still bruised from a recent fight.

The villain leaned in and let their breath hit the hero’s exposed neck.

Probably one of the most sensitive parts of the hero’s body.

“It’s a bit much. But I’m willing to treat you like royalty. I mean who wouldn’t? After such a night…”

“Hey.” The hero pushed the villain’s face away from them, embarrassed. “I’m here for the money you stole, not for…you know, not for…”

“And I just wanted to see you,” the villain answered. They took in a deep breath dramatically. “Is that such a sin?”

“You know, most people separate their work and personal life,” the hero said. Again, the villain’s face came closer and this time, the hero only rolled their eyes and tried to dodge their gaze.

“Well, the first time we got…personal was at work,” the villain reminded them. It had been a very eye opening experience, that was clear.

The hero’s blush deepened and it became quite apparent to the villain that they were a little tired today. They always got a little shy when they didn’t have enough energy.

“Hm. Alright, alright. I guess that’s all the time I’m gonna steal from you today. Don’t want you to be overworked and then all exhausted next time we have—”

“Alright,” the hero said quickly. “Just give me the money and I won’t arrest you.”

“Mmm…fine.” The villain let their eyes drop to the hero’s lips. One last tease. “Feel free to visit me this evening.”

“We’ll see.” As always, that meant they’d be there.

At eight o’clock sharp.

#mariaaaaaa why you wanna do me like that #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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epiclamer · 1 year

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Hello! Can I request some good old comforting at home after villain stabs hero at work? (Hero and villain are in a relationship) Y’know the usual. Your funny banter’s got me hooked too so some of that wouldn’t be too bad.

No pressure if you don’t want to :)

🤎

coming right up—

Unconscious Accident

The hero had made it home before their lover, fleeing the fight with the hefty dagger still impaling their side. They had seen the look of raw horror on Villains face when they had realized what they had done, but in order to salvage their secrecy Hero had run before the other could say anything.

The last thing they needed was to have their relationship exposed too.

Besides, a couple stitches wasn’t something new to the crime-stopper.

Villain burst through the door, hands on their knees as they panted in heavy breaths. Hero assumed they had run from the other side of town to get here and at the thought they couldn’t help but giggle.

The criminal was truly a softy at heart.

“C-Couldn’t keep up t-the ‘unfazed’ act, huh?” When their eyes landed on the pale hero they rushed forwards, scooping them into their shaky arms. They didn’t say anything, not even a snort or a worried comment, simply picking them up and carrying them to the bathroom.

Odd.

Hero prodded again, they couldn’t help themselves. “I’m s-surprised you even l-lasted this long—” their mouth twisted in pain as they were set down in the tub and a hiss escaped their lips. “I-I bet even t-the heroes were c-confused—”

“Please.”

The hero stopped, turning to face their villain, but the other’s forehead was propped against the edge of the tub, keeping their head bowed.

“Please stop, Hero.”

Now, Hero recognized what was wrong. Villain was crying. Sobbing, to be more precise. Chest heaving with misery and hands trembling with fear.

Villain had never been so broken and Hero had never seen them this way. Sure, in their relationship the hero had seen the villain sad and upset and angry and all of that, but never to this extent of distraught.

At first, Hero was frozen. They didn’t know how to help. They wanted to, but they didn’t know how. Their side was still aching and their blood was still dripping and staining their white tub, but for some reason this seemed more important.

“Villain, sweetie, w-what’s going on?” As gently as they could Hero let their hand fall against the villain’s shoulder, softly massaging the tense muscles.

The criminal made a noise, something between a cry and muffled plea. “I stabbed you, that’s what’s going on.”

Hero opened their mouth with something comforting, but they were cut off.

“I hurt you, Hero.”

The words hung in the air for a silent moment. A silent moment that felt nothing other than ear-shatteringly loud. Because it was the truth. Villain had stabbed Hero; Villain had hurt Hero, but not like how the villain saw it.

“I’m a monster.” Nothing but a whisper from Villains tongue, yet Hero heard it and they tensed.

This was wrong.

Villain was not a monster. They never deserved to think that. They committed petty theft and a battle mishap, but nothing worth being titled monster.

“No.” Hero’s voice was so stern it put their lover on edge. “You are not a monster. You did not hurt me—”

“I stabbed—”

The crime-stopper took a deep breath, sliding their free hand under the other’s chin, lifting their gazes to meet. “You did not hurt me, Villain.” That seemed to shut them up quickly.

“This was an accident. I know you would never do this on purpose, sweetheart. You’re mine, got that? Don’t talk down to yourself.”

Even then, the villain looked unsure. Eyes still glossy and red, lip trembling and teeth chattering. They were a wreck, a beautiful wreck through and through. “I still hurt you.”

Hero couldn’t stand the pain any longer, pulling the villain in for a chaste kiss. “By accident, my love. Do you know what accidents make us?”

Villain shook their head, looking slightly better.

The hero smiled, “Human.”