Marvel and DC Imagines

xxviii. a. requests open. only writing for mcu & dceu.

[comiicii]

A'S MASTERLIST

BRUCE WAYNE / BATMAN ↳ gotham tales (series) | i. ii. iii. (coming soon).

CLARK KENT / SUPERMAN ↳ wait for your love (eternal sunshine series).

JAMES 'BUCKY' BARNES / THE WINTER SOLDIER↳︎ nightmares (one-shot)

FRANK CASTLE / THE PUNISHER ↳ eyes on fire series (hiatus) | i. ii.

MILES MORALES ↳ hummingbird (series) | i. ii.

MOON KNIGHT / MARC SPECTOR / STEVEN GRANT / MR. KNIGHT ↳ summertime magic (s.g.) (two-part series) | i. ii. (coming soon)

[afniel]

This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.

[endlesss-rain]

steve rogers did not spend 3+ movies fucking over the government for people to completely miss the point of captain america. can't wait for sam to continue that tradition and punch the president

[morbidmira]

me writing: i am a god and reality bends to my whims

me proofreading: im too stupid to be alive

[rythyme]

me when i fucking Boop you

[rosenkranz-isnt-dead]

all of us today

[lizkreates]

Mad with boop power! I felt inspired.

[comiicii]

which eternal sunshine song would you like to see next?

yes, and?

don’t wanna break up again

the boy is mine

i wish i hated you

Voting ended onApr 5, 2024

[comiicii]

Backdrop: Life had been mundane until you met Clark Kent.

Pairing: clark kent x fem!reader

Warnings: None, probably some grammatical errors and a little sadness if you’re a sap like me.

A's notes: inspired by ariana grande’s new album eternal sunshine, i’ll be doing a series of one shots based on the songs. they’ll be in no particular order and will be written for other characters but some will be featured more than once if they fit the song i’m writing about. ‘we cant be friends’ has me crying whenever i watch the video and i tear up a lot listening to it so enjoy this train wreck of a story.

Word count: 3.8k

For as long as you could remember, life was nothing special. It wasn’t horrible but you woke up most days simply doing work and trying to advance your career. Your life was mundane and filled with memories of you alone after moving to Metropolis. That was until you met him. Clark Kent. You had bumped into each other on your way into the Daily Planet for an interview. Well, it was actually you bumping into his broad chest and him catching you before you hit the marble floor. The softness in his deep ocean blue eyes were what made your heart do something it had never done. It felt like a pull in your chest that you hadn’t felt before. As if the universe made sense. Once you finally registered his apologies, you came to your senses and tried to apologize for not watching where you were going. Then he smiled. Now your stomach fluttered. That was not something your body usually did when it came to people. After he introduced himself, it was as if the world had color to it again.

It would be an understatement to say that you fell for Clark Kent. You deeply fell for Clark. Words could not express the love you instantly felt for him. And he fell just as hard for you. When he revealed his true identity to you, it only solidified the endless bounty of your love for him since he was willing to trust you with every part of himself that he didn’t share with the rest of the world. Life seemed to finally be worth living and getting up for. Every morning you rose with the sun and slowly forgot about those meek feelings that used to fill your body.

It wasn’t hard for the two of you to make some of the happiest memories together. Your then-apartment had been littered with trinkets that marked your happiest moments with Clark. Like the teddy bear he won for you when he took you to a carnival in his Kansas hometown. Or the homemade picture frame that had a silly selfie Clark took of the two of you while at work. Once you moved in together, the apartment you shared was filled with more memories the two of you made together. As a house warming gift, he presented you with a beautiful pendant necklace with both your birthstones that came together to make a heart. It’s a necklace you wear everyday and became a reminder that someone loved you unconditionally. When he proposed to you atop the ferris wheel, the ring was designed to match the necklace. Your wedding was small and intimate with just friends and family in attendance on the Kent family farm. It was the highlight of your life to be marrying the man of your dreams.

Life wasn’t always perfect with Clark though. Sharing your boyfriend (and eventual husband) with the world was not the easiest task to undertake but when he came home to you, those insecurities subsided. But those pesky feelings still lingered. Feelings of being unwanted and insecurities plagued the back of your mind. Besides, the Daily Planet constantly wrote puff pieces of his alter ego - with a few being written by you. As time passed and the world became more cruel, it became harder to keep those thoughts hidden. Little by little, those insecurities reared their ugly heads that led to some of the lowest of lows in your life since meeting Clark. He didn’t seem to understand why you were feeling as such and justified his work that it was his life’s purpose. And you didn’t seem to understand why he couldn’t empathize with your feelings. You stood by him through thick and thin. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly that came with being Superman. You weren’t perfect either, though. You were an ambitious reporter and were climbing up in your career at the Daily Planet. Your work also came with some ugliness as you advanced in your career. This meant that the two of you were in the spotlight for your work. Two very different spotlights but spotlights nonetheless.

It hit particularly hard the one argument that ensued after he missed your first wedding anniversary. It was an important milestone that you had planned out for weeks. You had made reservations at the restaurant you had your first date on and he didn’t make an appearance until the morning hours of the following day. You had looked like a fool at the restaurant; patrons giving you looks of pity as you sipped on your water and twiddled your thumbs like a fool waiting for him. When he greeted you with a bouquet of lilies - the first drop of uneasiness touched your chest. You weren’t happy to see him. To see his sweet face you’d kissed good morning the morning before. To see his ocean eyes that carried such sincerity because he had broken a promise to you. He could see that he couldn’t avoid a fight with you because you didn’t look at him with love. Your eyes were filled with disappointment. The argument that ensued ended with him leaving for most of the day as you sobbed into your pillow. When he had returned you had awoken only to softly cry yourself to sleep again.

It took two days for the two of you to speak again and work through the argument. You both tried to be more mindful and quickly moved on from the unhappy moment. A part of you was content with the conversation and hopeful for what was to come with Clark. It wasn’t the first fight you two had but it was the first that hurt you so deeply.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the day you had asked for a divorce from Clark. It wasn’t something you planned but it wasn’t something you hadn’t contemplated in the recent year after your third wedding anniversary. It had come out of your mouth after another argument that was going nowhere. You had argued about how you were growing apart - how you had taken time off after planning to go away for a small vacation just the two of you and he wasn’t putting in the effort. He had come home late but it wasn’t because of him being Superman. It was because he worked late with Lois Lane on a story after he had told you that morning he’d be home to go on the trip. You were prepared to forgive him if it was because of his Superman duties but this was the last straw.

You weren’t the jealous type but even at work, it seemed like the two of you barely spoke as the years progressed. He got paired up with Lois for more stories and you didn’t like the sinking twist of your stomach whenever you saw Clark with her. They looked cute together and probably the office assumed he was sleeping with her given how flirty they tended to be (at least she was). The first time he noticed how much it bothered you, he assured you with his words and actions that he felt nothing for the reporter. He went as far as to give you a passionate kiss in the middle of the office, in front of Lois, as you bid him goodbye to go to an interview for a story you were writing. It had made you weak in the knees and you were close to pulling him into the archives room to continue the passion but you simply blushed and told him you loved him with the most love struck smile on your face. That squashed those insecurities for a while until you started noticing how close they’d sit together while brainstorming or how he began to stay later with her to work on a story. You tried not to be the jealous wife but you couldn’t help the green monster that was building on your fears and insecurities. The few times you brought it up afterwards, Clark was dismissive about your feelings. It hurt you. Hurt how little he seemed to care about your feelings.

From there, arguments were becoming more common. Filled with silence or one of you leaving the apartment for some time. It had become common practice to not speak to each other and eventually move on from the argument. You hated that your marriage had come to this point. After the last argument, you had left the apartment this time. You checked into a hotel and went to the bar for a drink. You looked at your ring and a tear ran down your cheek realizing that it didn’t give you hope. It didn’t give you the feeling you were hoping for because deep down, you knew that you couldn’t continue in the marriage if it wasn’t going to be mended. You had run the course of the marriage and it pained you. When you returned two days later, Clark was making lunch for both of you. He was prepared to go on the trip and put the argument behind. Your heart was racing because you didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to end something you had hoped would never end but it had to end. You needed to be the one to make Clark realize that the two of you weren’t going to get the happy ending. Not with each other. You were prepared for him to be upset and yell and express every reasonable emotion. When you uttered those terrible words, he simply froze and you could see his heart shatter from the look he gave you because he knew you were going to see the divorce through. The day ended with you packing your things and going back to the hotel, retaining a divorce lawyer and hunting for apartments. You had managed to find a job as a journalist for a small paper and put in your two weeks at the Daily Planet. By the end of it all, all you gave Clark was a letter asking for forgiveness for ending your marriage. Detailing all the love you had for him was genuine and would always remain but that for now, your paths had to separate. You ended the letter acknowledging that the two of you couldn’t be friends but that you’d wait for that day to come. Wait for the day that he’d like you again. You’d wait for his love again.

Clark’s heartbreak was just about close to unbearable as he didn’t pull his punches during missions and even Bruce had to pull him back from time to time. He had clung to that letter you wrote him and cried so hard the day he received it. Beating himself up for letting one of the most important people in his life feel the need to cut ties with him. Letting you feel like you had to end your story together. You weren’t fairing much better. For the first few months, you were crying yourself to sleep almost daily. Life had become mundane and when you thought of Clark, it became sad and lonely. You hated the pain you felt in your chest that had spread to your whole body.

A coworker at your new job had seen how sad you were about your divorce and handed you an ad about Wayne Enterprises having technology that claimed to erase people from your memory. A part of you didn’t think such a thing existed but you knew Bruce wouldn’t build something if it didn’t work. When Bruce Wayne saw your name on the list of possible subjects, he reached out to you. Meaning, he paid a visit at your current apartment that was now closer to Gotham. You had known Bruce through Clark and knew of his alter-ego as well. Batman had actually saved you a few times when you were in Gotham chasing leads and doing interviews. When he first met you, Clark and you had been together for a year and had been invited to one of Bruce’s fancy charity events. He had seen how in love you two were. He hadn’t seen Clark so happy before you came into his life and he could see the adoration you held for the Kryptonian. Clark had even said to him that night that he was going to marry you. It warmed his heart to see how happy you two had made each other in such a short period of time.

You had ironically decided to have the procedure done on what would’ve been your fourth wedding anniversary. You looked down at the box that contained every memory attached to Clark. The receptionist had handed you a clipboard with a waiver to sign; giving Wayne Enterprises permission to move forward with the process. A nurse came out to call your name and you handed her the clipboard. She brought you inside and took the box of your memories. You sat down and took deep breaths, the nurse giving you a few minutes as she left to get he others for the procedure. You looked around at the room, it was meant to look comfortable given the severity of the process. There was a mirror on the wall to your right. You figured it was part of the original room and that maybe on the other side were boxes of other people’s memories.

On the other side of the mirror, Clark stood looking at your nervous self that waited for the technicians to arrive. Bruce had elected to do the procedure himself for his friend after informing him that you had signed up for it yourself. Clark had come in on the same day per Bruce’s request since he figured it was best for it to be done on the same day for the both of you. Clark had come in with a box full of memories connected to you. Pictures that he had of you and different items you had gotten him through the years such as the bracelet you made for him while he was away on a mission with the Justice League. You had put beads with your initials on the bracelet and just like you wore your necklace, he wore his bracelet. The box also contained a picture he had taken of you out on his parent’s farm the weekend he brought you home to meet Ma Kent. The box unsurprisingly contained a great deal of pictures of you that he took. Some silly ones, cute ones, romantic and his most cherished one was at the top of the pile. It was a picture of the two of you kissing on your wedding day. Clark had taken it himself with his digital camera he carried everywhere with him. His other favorite picture was one of you under the covers, smiling and looking so peaceful and happy as he took the picture, wearing one of his flannels. It was taken the morning after he proposed to you. You had a picture of Clark in your box that you had taken a few seconds after he took that photo. He didn’t want to put anything in the box and be selfish but he knew for it to work, he had to follow Bruce’s instruction. The one item that wasn’t in the box was the letter you wrote him after your divorce. The one that solidified your parting of ways. He gave the letter to Bruce and told him wished he hadn’t made you feel so hurt that you had to do this.

With that, the billionaire decided to tell his friend that this wasn’t the first time the two of you had gone through this procedure. Two years prior to the two of you meeting, you both had been together for three years and had a great falling out that ended the relationship. It was enough to bring the both of you, at separate times, to him and ask to have your memories of each other erased. Bruce wanted to tell you but the sadness reflected in your eyes was enough to keep his mouth shut. Maybe deep down you knew that this wasn’t the first time you wanted to erase Clark from your life. You loved him so deeply that the only way for life to move forward again, he had to be erased. Clark didn’t realize he was crying as he heard his friend recount the first time you two had come in and watched you play with the pendant necklace he gave you when you moved in together. He still remembers how nervous he was to gift it to you; worried it was not going to be your style. He remembers how his heart leaped when you squealed with joy at the present. His heart felt heavy knowing you still wore the necklace despite being divorced. It was bittersweet hope that maybe you’d be able to try again without having to do this. He wanted to break through the window and beg you not to forget him but he knew that once your mind was made up, you saw it through. So, he sat down and asked Bruce to erase his memories of your relationship. All Clark wanted was for you to be happy. If that meant erasing him, he would learn to live with that.

As you closed your eyes, recounting the countless memories you had made with Clark for the last five years, it was hard to hold back the few tears that wet your cheeks. Your breathing got heavy as Clark disappeared from your life. Your fingers reached for your necklace - the remaining piece of the love you were erasing from your entire being. You looked at the nurses beside you, asking with teary eyes if you could keep just this one memory for yourself. You softly begged them as one nurse held your hand and told you that it was going to be okay, that the process was almost complete. You took in a shaky breath and closed your eyes as your fingers cling to the pendant; feeling the final memory of Clark’s ocean eyes fade.

When you opened your eyes again, you were slightly disoriented but greeted with the kind face of the nurse. She asked if you were okay and you smiled. You knew whatever just happened, it worked because there was a lightness in your chest. It felt as though you were brand new. As you stood from the chair, you thanked everyone. Without noticing, Bruce Wayne had come in to the room to congratulate you on the success of the procedure. You thanked the billionaire and went about your day. You took in the crisp afternoon air of Gotham and headed back your apartment. Clark came out the building a few minutes after you.

A few years later, life was certainly different. You had landed a job working for the Gotham Gazette as the lead investigative reporter and had made a name for yourself. You were content with life but there was something missing. At night, you found yourself out on dates that never led anywhere. On the nights where it was particularly bad, you phoned your billionaire friend Bruce Wayne whom you grew closer to in the following years with working at the Gazette. He became a confidant for your woes and wishes of your life. Bruce had come to deeply care about you after you had the procedure. Part of the reason was because Clark asked him to look out for you since he wouldn’t be able to. He couldn’t help to grow close to you because you were that type of soul that brought a warmth and comfort he hadn’t felt since he lost his parents.

Clark had focused on his work in the following years of his procedure. He had struck a relationship with his coworker, Lois Lane. They had been together for three years but it wasn’t working. Mainly because Clark hadn’t felt he could spend his life with her. She was beautiful, smart, ambitious and just about everything he could ask for in a partner but there was something missing. He couldn’t put his finger on it and quite frankly it killed him to continue in a relationship he knew wasn’t going to end in marriage.

Bruce had invited you to his charity event to raise money for the orphaned children of Gotham. He always invited you since he knew it could be good for networking for you and every now and then, you would get a date out of it. Clark and the other Justice League members were in attendance for this event as they knew this was an important cause for Bruce. Clark had just broken up with Lois the week prior and had been sulking, He originally wasn’t going to attend the event but Bruce and the others convinced him that a night out would be good for him.

A couple of hours into the event and you find yourself feeling out of place. Especially with the dress you chose; it was from a thrift shop you had found in Gotham and it had more of a bohemian look to it rather than the posh aura the other attendees wore. Bruce had checked in with you a few times to make sure you were okay; knowing how intense the scene of the Gotham elite could be and assuring you in the process of how beautiful you looked. You found yourself at the bar, grabbing what seemed to be your fifth flute of champagne for the night. Your spacial awareness was starting to go so it wasn’t surprising when you bumped into a large figure at your side, spilling some of your drink on him. You were a mess apologizing to the man. You were expecting him to make fuss but it was a pleasant surprise when you heard him softly chuckling at you. You were flushed with embarrassment but when you stared into the eyes of the man, your heart stopped. Meeting his deep blue eyes spread a warmth the champagne earlier hadn’t achieved. His heart also seemed to stop upon meeting your gaze. Your eyes made him feel like he had finally come home after a long journey of searching.

To continue having you in his presence, he joked that you owed him a dance in order to make up for ever so slightly wetting the sleeve of his navy blue suit. Hearing the slight mischievous tone only made you laugh in agreement, a sound he already found addicting. When he pulled you close to him, you hoped he couldn’t hear how hard your heart was beating. As you followed his lead, you relaxed and he took the opportunity to ask for your name.

“Y/N.”

“Clark.”

[fantasia1940-blog]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

[word-wytch]

I think there's something that needs to be said about encouraging readers to leave feedback.

For me it's not about "tell me my writing is amazing and stroke my ego"

It's more about "please engage with me so that I can experience your joy secondhand and foster a connection with you"

I understand that not everyone wants this in their reading experience, some people are shy and a million other reasons why maybe someone wouldn't want to engage and that's perfectly fine!

But what I'm trying to steer away from is being a passive content creator with passive consumers. What I want to steer toward is fostering a community that is essential to fandom. I want to see your reactions because it makes me feel like I'm a part of something.

On encouraging reblogs —

I understand that not everyone is comfortable reblogging, especially explicit content. This is ok!

But just consider that the only reason you were able to enjoy a fic or fanart is because someone else shared it, and by not sharing it yourself you are potentially robbing someone else of the opportunity to enjoy it as much as you did.

As OPs our reach only goes so far and this website relies on reblogs in order for anything to truly get seen by a wider audience.

So that's really it! That's why I encourage these two things at the end of every story I post. Not because I'm trying to be demanding and "make people feel bad" if they don't do it.

I know most other social media sites encourage mindless content consumption and that's just the way of the world nowadays, but I am from a time when community was at the heart of fandom and I just don't want to lose that.

[aimmyarrowshigh]

But what I'm trying to steer away from is being a passive content creator with passive consumers. What I want to steer toward is fostering a community that is essential to fandom. I want to see your reactions because it makes me feel like I'm a part of something.

[comiicii]

Backdrop: You and Bucky live in the same apartment complex but haven't spoken more than a few words. One night, Bucky decides to change that. Pairing: James 'Bucky' Barnes x fem!reader. Warnings: mentions of bucky’s ptsd and my subpar writing. A's notes: this is just based on the scene pictured above from the first episode of fatws. excuse spelling and any other mistakes throughout this one-shot. this has been sitting in my drafts for ages. Word count: 2.7k

James kept to himself whenever he came into the bar you worked at. The two of you always exchanged kind glances at each other. They were no different than the ones you shared in the hallway of the apartment building you both lived in. He was a man of few words and after he came in a few times, you knew his drink order. He had a select variety which would indicate the type of day he's had or his mood. You never asked about his life and you two only ever said a few sentences to each other. He wanted to talk to you, he truly did but his words always got stuck in his throat. You were so pretty and innocent; he didn't want to taint that with his overly-complicated existence.

"James, is there anyone you've talked to other than me this week?" his therapist asks him, readying the pad and pen if he lied to her face again. There was a pause. He thought back to you and all the mental images he kept of you the past seven days. Last night, he nursed some cheap beer and watched you work; talking to some of the regulars at the bar, asking about the home life of some you had grown close to, smiling and laughing at whatever funny joke was told to you. He was completely enamored with you but he was too chicken to say anything more than his drink order and 'thank you'.

"James? I asked you a question. Do you talk to anyone once you step foot outside my office?" She pressed.

"Yes," he quietly answered. "there's a woman…she works at a bar near my apartment." the corners of his lips tugging ever so slightly upwards. The look of shock on her face pulling them higher. "She lives a couple doors down from me." James quickly added before she wrote in her notepad.

"I'm not lying." he spoke through gritted teeth.

"I know, I'm just making a note of it for next time." she deadpanned, internally relishing that he was making some progress with another human being.

"Do you two talk when you're at the bar?"

"She's working so I don't say much." he answers with a sigh.

"And when you see her at the apartment? Do you say anything at all?" she pressed on him again.

"We say hi or nod at each other." he stoically answers causing her to set aside her pad and lean forward in her seat.

"James, you need to nurture friendships. I'm not forcing you to date this woman but make an effort in talking with her. I think it would be good for you," her words were sincere. "Do you even know her name?"

"Y/N." there was that smile again.

He came right on time as always. Your heart always beat a little faster when you saw him. There was something about him that made you feel safe even though you didn't speak. You could tell he was a private man. You enjoyed your small interactions with him. Although brief, you could tell he was a good man. He'd probably been through a lot and suffered a lot of loss from what you figured. He looked to be in a good mood so you brought him his usual domestic beer with a smile. He nodded with a smile in return and proceeded to take a swig.

Your shift went by quick. Before you knew it, midnight had come. It had been a quiet but decent shift. You organized your tips to stuff into your front pocket.

"Mind if I walk you home?" he asked from his stool, finishing off his seventh bottle. You nearly jumped two feet at hearing his voice. He had practiced those six words in his head for the last two hours, hoping his voice wouldn't come off shaky.

Once you slowed your heart rate, your lips tugged into a smile and gave a small nod to him. The small response was enough to make his heart leap. He stood and walked to the door, holding it open for you to exit first.

It was a pleasant surprise for both of you to be in this setting; walking down the bustling street to your apartment complex. He mainly kept his hands in his pocket aside from the brief moment where he tugged at your arm to prevent you from clashing with a man who was looking down at his phone and clearly not paying attention to his surroundings. As quickly as it happened, his hand was back in his pocket. The walk was silent but comfortable. You had questions and obviously wanted to know more about him but you didn’t want to push him to talk if he wasn’t ready to open up. A part of you knew that he wasn’t one to be forthcoming with information he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

Before you knew it, you two were in the building and walking down the hallway to your respective doors. You turned around to thank him but at the last second, you grew bold and so you got on your toes to plant a soft peck on his cheek. It caught both of you off guard and you wanted to run away but you stayed in your spot; waiting for some reaction from him. The blood began rushing to his face. It had been decades since James had any physical contact with a woman.

“Goodnight, James and thank you for walking me home.” you softly spoke but before you could turn away to head to your door, his hand took hold of yours.

“You can call me Bucky,” he spoke, looking down at the floor before making eye contact with you, a small smile piercing through his usual stoic expression.

You gave his hand a light squeeze and tried to contain the goofy smile attempting to shine through, nodding and walking backwards to your door as you spun your keys on your ring finger.

“Shall we do this again tomorrow night, Bucky?”  you smirked as you reached your door. His smile grew and he nodded.

With that, something new and wonderful blossomed.

As weeks passed, the two of you continued this little routine of him walking you home from work. He started talking with you more, especially when he noticed a particular man making you uncomfortable. He’d find some way to take your mind off it and keep you occupied or shoot the man a death glare that you prayed you’d never be on the receiving end of. You learned that he was a little lonely since coming back from the Snap. He’d recently lost his childhood best friend and from what you deciphered from your conversations, his family had been long gone. It hurt you to hear him speak of those he lost. You didn’t press and always listened. He liked that you didn’t bother him for details or press him to tell you more. He enjoyed that you gave him the time and space to tell you things about himself when he was ready.

When walking back to the apartment, you would hold his arm and he didn’t seem to mind. He liked having you close even if he didn’t verbally communicate that to you. He grew more bold as time passed. He’d attempt flirting with you such as complimenting your smile or using a corny pick up line that he’d hope you’d like. After a few weeks, he would walk you to your door and hug you goodnight. After a month, he started planting small kisses on your head when giving you those hugs. That’s when you learned he was a military man. He wore his dog tags under his shirt. Given the height difference, you could feel them against your cheek underneath the fabric. You didn’t ask about his time in the military as you figured that was a conversation for down the road. You often kissed him on the cheek or gave his hands a squeeze as a thank you. You were going to sleep happy and hopeful that one day you two could go on an actual date and see each other in a different setting.

You truly got to know Bucky one particular night. Being that you worked at a bar, there was a television for background noise and to give some of the guys something to stare at when there was a game or big event happening. It was on the night that the government had announced it’s new Captain America. It was the main topic of most conversations at the bar that night. To you, it didn’t feel right. You had heard about Falcon having the shield passed down to him personally by Steve Rogers himself but donating it to the Captain America exhibit about a month ago. When you watched the announcement, your heart fell into your stomach. It didn’t sit right in your gut and frankly, it angered a part of you. You respected the legacy the man left behind. If the Captain chose to pass it down to the Falcon, shouldn’t he be the one donning the shield? With that announcement being the big news of the day, it altered the energy of your shift.

Bucky came in at his usual time. You could tell he had seen the news and that he was tremendously bothered by it. In the time you got to spend with Bucky, you knew when he was faking his smile at you. His smiles were genuine when they reached his eyes and as corny as it sounds, they would somewhat twinkle when he was happy. In his greeting to you, you saw none of that. You didn’t press and proceeded to change the channel to a soccer game to shift the mood and conversations of the bar. Bucky didn’t say much to you during your shift but you could tell when his eyes were on you. He had a habit of using you as his focal point as a way to ground him when he was at the bar on nights when it would get rowdy or if he picked up on a certain conversation that bothered him. It was a way for him to drown all of it out. You didn’t interact as even you could feel from across the bar that he wasn’t in the jaunty, talking mood.

Your shift went by as usual and you were cleaning up your station and gathering your tips for the night when one of the regulars started making small talk with you. They usually did when you were closing out your shift. They asked you about the news of the Captain America and what your honest opinion was of it.

“Should’ve stayed in the museum or stayed with the Falcon.” you casually spoke as you counted the bills in your hand. “I don’t have a good feeling about this new Cap, if I’m being honest. He hasn’t saved the world, never fought with the Avengers and I don’t remember Captain America having a gun so safe to say I won’t be buying his lunchbox.” emitting a dry chuckle with a shrug, giving them a pat goodbye as you made your way to Bucky.

Your walk home was mostly silent. He asked you about your day and that was the extent of your conversation with him. You held on to his arm as usual all the way to your apartment door.

“Did you mean what you said at the bar about…” he trailed off as his eyes met yours. He looked frustrated. He must’ve taken the news pretty hard you figured and only nodded to support your statements at the bar.

He suddenly pulled you into him and held you close. You could feel him slightly trembling. It worried you so you wrapped your arms around him and stayed in that position for what seemed like minutes. He kissed your head as always and when he finally pulled away, you could see pure sadness in his eyes.

“Bucky…talk to me” you softly pleaded. It was the first time you asked him to open up on your terms, not his. You were worried and concerned. Everything that night told you something was off about the man before you. He wasn’t the Bucky you had come to adore and possibly love. He stayed silent for a moment like he was thinking over how to respond to you.

“Tomorrow morning, breakfast? You’ve had a busy night and we can talk in the daylight for once.” he flashed you sheepish smile. You eyed him for a few seconds and understood that it was his way of saying ‘I’ll open up to you tomorrow’.

“Sounds good to me, Bucky. Plus, I can finally see your face under natural sunlight instead of fluorescent street lights.” You nodded with a soft chuckle, easing his anxiety that you wouldn’t take his offer. You grabbed hold of his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “See you here at 9 tomorrow.” you grabbed your keys and went into your apartment with a sigh; hopeful that some sleep was all he needed to ease his mind before your morning date.

You were peacefully sleeping until noise from Bucky’s apartment pierced your walls. It was four in the morning. You thought nothing of it until the noise continued and grew louder. You quickly put on a hoodie, grabbed your pocket knife and ran over next door. You knocked on his door loudly, asking if everything was alright. The yells didn’t stop and when your hand grabbed the knob to jiggle it to make some noise, you realized it was unlocked. You hesitated for a split second before barging in.

Upon entering, you see Bucky on the ground over a blanket in front of his television. You looked around for any possible intruders before rushing to him. You froze at the sight of his left arm. You didn’t have much time to process the new revelation as Bucky was sweating profusely and clearly having a nightmare. Your instinct was to wake him but a part of you told you not to. You had heard somewhere from a customer who had a friend with PTSD tell you vehemently to never wake someone during an episode. You pulled away and shakily took a seat in the loveseat next to him, putting the pillow between him and the chair so he wouldn’t hurt himself if he moved around. You observed the makeshift bed made up of just a couple of blankets and a pillow on the floor. It pained you realizing that you really didn’t know Bucky. You calmed yourself down and adjusted yourself on the loveseat, hoping the episode would pass.

A few minutes went by and you realized he wasn’t yelling anymore. You relaxed a bit and drifted off to a slumber, not registering that you were still in his apartment. About twenty minutes later, Bucky shot up, panting and covered in a thick layer of sweat. His heavy breathing woke you and you quickly moved to the floor to assess him, your face coming into view being a surprise to him.

“How…how you’d get in here, Y/N?” you tried not to stare too much at his arm.

“Y-your door was unlocked when I came t-to check on you,” you stumbled over your words, “I heard you yelling…was worried there was an intruder o-or something.” you kept your eyes on his and hoped he wouldn’t notice you stuttering so much due to shock and worry.

He rubbed his vibranium hand over his face. When his eyes met your again, he saw that you were staring at his arm. You looked scared and when you noticed him looking at you, in a blink you were back to worrying about him.

“Are you okay?” you asked with so much worry in your tone it made Bucky worry about you more.

“Y/N…you-”

“Did someone do this to you?” you cut him off as your hand reached toward his arm. It was cold unlike the rest of his body that was covered in sweat.

His biggest fear was having you reject him because of his past and physicality but the more he stared at you, the more he realized that you weren’t scared of him, you were scared for him. Bucky never wanted you to find out this way but he knew he had to come clean to you about himself sooner or later. He was just hoping it would be later rather than sooner.

“I think now would be a good time for a coffee…”

[comiicii]

Hummingbird II

Backdrop: You and Miles have been best friends since you were babies. Doesn't mean that the friendship never faced hardships. Pairing: e!1610 Miles Morales x fem!spider!reader Warnings: none, probably some grammar errors and my attempt at fluff with the characters. y'know before the inevitable has to happen A's notes: apologies for this not coming out sooner. also, i don't think i clarified in the first chapter that reader is also hispanic. i'll be sprinkling in some spanish words moving forward. if you'd like to be tagged, do let me know in the comments. Translations: a comer = time to eat | amiga = friend (feminine) | mi vida = my life, darling, dear etc. | lo adoro = i adore/love it Word count: 2.5k PREVIOUS | NEXT

After that, you brought up the subject every now and then. You had spotted on his notebook once a quick doodle of you swinging around. It was from a clip he’d seen on the news and thought it was cool. When Araña was brought up, Miles never had anything but good things to say. Always commenting on how cool she looked on a video he’d seen of her stopping robbers or the one time he heard her speak Spanish to an older woman as she was helping cross the street. His words were indirectly helping you to keep going.

You tried harder to salvage the friendship you had with him as you came up on two years of fighting alongside Peter. You had more study sessions together (which you were still sometimes late to) and you did your best to keep him involved in your life.

The study sessions that the two of you had were also becoming more frequent as you were gearing up for entry exams for Brooklyn Visions Academy. If you did well on the exam, you would be entered into a lottery that could land you the opportunity to attend the school. You were naturally academically gifted - didn’t mean you never studied, though. You knew that this could be great for your future. You wanted to make a difference in the world and while Brooklyn Middle had great programs, BVA would be a step in the right direction to get you where you wanted to be for college. Two students would be selected from the lottery after the school year ended.

You and Miles alternated study session locations; the last one being at his place before the entry exam. Mrs. Morales adored having you in her home. She was worried when you didn’t stop by as much; going as far as to ask your father about your well-being (he claimed you were going through puberty and all that ‘teenage angst’). Mr. Morales breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed you and Miles were studying together again; he always thought of you as a good influence on his son. You complimented him in areas where he wasn’t the best and knew him a lot better than they would these days.

The two of you had been studying for the last few hours and you had informed your family that you would be eating dinner at Miles’. Peter also knew that this was an important time for you and let you have the night to study, rest and enjoy your time with Miles.

“I think I’m going to pass out if I have to look at another page of equations.” you groaned on his bed, falling back onto the pillows. Miles could only laugh on the floor, agreeing with your statement completely.

“¡A comer!” Mrs. Morales yelled from the kitchen. You silently thanked the heavens for her impeccable timing.

As you two set the table, the TV flashed to a picture of Spider-Man and ‘Spider-Girl’, reporting on an update of the Green Goblin you two had thwarted the previous night. You didn’t pay much attention to it once you heard them refer to you as Spider-Girl. Oh, how you dreaded them calling you that.

“It’s terrible that he’s gotten a young girl believing that she can just swing in and not take responsibility for her actions!” Mr. Morales hollered at the screen as he helped bring the food to the table.

Miles rolled his eyes at his father, never really agreeing with his dad’s opinions on the superhero. He mumbled under his breath about how he didn’t understand. You quietly chuckled at his statement. He was a cop after all. What you and Peter were doing was helping but technically illegal.

The conversation was quickly squashed before it even started by Rio when she looked at Jeff with a look. She didn’t want to hear any talk about work or superheroes at the table. Dinner was spent eating and catching up with the family that hadn’t consistently seen you in a while. Rio had expressed that you could talk to her if you were going through something, appreciating how much she cared about you like you were her daughter. She always looked out for you. Jeff had asked the two of you about studying for the entry exams. You had shown more enthusiasm for the opportunity to study at BVA more so than Miles. Before the two of them could get into it, you mentioned how much you appreciated Miles helping you study. You knew how hard his father could be, despite meaning well. You always tried to make Miles look good in front of his parents to spare him. Miles bumped his knee with yours under the table as a ‘thank you’. It seemed like the two of you were getting back into the swing of things like before. That night, you ended up sleeping over for the first time in a little over a year. It warmed your heart knowing that your friendship with Miles was settling back to the way it was.

When you were chosen in the lottery with Miles to go to BVA, you couldn’t be happier. You felt as if it was a sign that life wasn’t going be terrible. It signaled to you that you could handle your school and spider-life. Or so you believed.

After you turned 14, you had begun pestering Peter to start trusting you to tag along with him to fight more of the big bad guys he was always on the news about fighting. He didn’t want you messing with the ‘big leagues’ yet as he was worried about your safety. 14 still meant you were a kid, after all. Even if you were 21, Peter would’ve still been hesitant. Last thing he needed was to further traumatize you or possibly get you killed. It wasn’t until you bothered him beyond belief and pinky swore that you’d get out if it got too dangerous. It meant that you’d leave Peter to fight for himself if it got to be too risky to keep you safe. You and Peter both had families that cared about you but his family wasn’t in the dark about the crime-fighting. He’d rather risk himself than have to explain to your family why he couldn’t keep you safe.

Meanwhile, Miles didn’t enjoy being at BVA. He quite loathed it. While he had you there with him, your schedules weren’t the same; three classes in total you had together. The school load was also stressful and it felt as though he didn’t belong. Didn’t mean that you weren’t stressed either. You were practically drowning in your own thoughts of your future on top of the work load from school and your spider duties. You were barely getting any sleep and had debated on letting a few classes suffer for the sake of lessening the stress of your life. You just seemed to have a better way of hiding your stress than Miles - something he commented on when he realized that you were just as stressed but didn’t show it. Thankfully the two of you had lunch together to connect and stress together. It hurt to see that your best friend didn’t see himself fitting into the school. You always told him to give the school a shot because maybe, just maybe, he may like it. He often wished to be back at Brooklyn Middle. He described the school as ‘elitist’ and that neither him or you belonged because it was always going to be you two against the world.

It was a saying the two of you bonded over - especially since it was the name of one of your favorite songs. You had originally voiced the phrase when you were both 10. Already feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Miles knew that your home life wasn’t always peaceful and that you took on more than you should’ve, emotionally speaking, for a 10-year-old. Miles always did his best to let you know that he was there for you. Whenever your family stressed you out, you would find yourself on the roof of his building, staring at the sunset, waiting for the sky to turn navy. You two had managed to keep a giant sleeping bag stashed there to lay on and go under when the nights turned cold. It was your own private hiding spot from the world. On particularly stressful days, one or both of you would bring food to eat your feelings.

“Hey Miles,” you turned your head to look at the boy who had just listened to you ramble about what was going on in your headspace for the last 30 minutes.

“Yeah, Y/N?” he kept looking up at the sky.

“Are you scared of the future? What may happen to us?”

“Yes and no,” he chuckled, finally turning to look at you, a small smile creeping in.

“Why’s that?”

“‘Cause, you and I are bound to change and yeah, I’m scared that you won’t want to hang around me at some point buuut,”

“But?”

“I’m also sure that you and I will always be in each other’s lives - can’t get rid of me that easily, Y/N.” he reached over to tickle your side, earning you a laugh as music softly played along with the natural sounds of Brooklyn. Your favorite, 2pac’s ‘Me Against The World’ started playing in the air.

“It’ll be us against the world”

“Always, amiga”

You smiled across the table at the memory. You knew that he could succeed in BVA. He didn’t get lucky, both of you deserved to be here. You didn’t want him to quit when there was a possibility for him to do great things and prove himself to all the other snobs that he was just as smart, if not, smarter than all of them.

“C’mon Miles, you’ve barely given it two weeks,” you started as you played with the food in front of you.

“Now you’re starting to sound like my dad,” he groaned. The comparison stung a bit but you kept your face neutral.

“Y’know you deserve to be here just as much as these other richy-rich kids” you started, not wanting your frustrations to shine through.

“Y/N, if I flunk a couple more tests, they’re sure to kick me out and back to Brooklyn Middle,” he was growing frustrated at not being understood, “all our friends are there.”

“Your friends are there, Miles. Not mine…not anymore.” you were now getting a jump start on an assignment, trying to distract yourself from the loss of a few friends because of your crime fighting. It was a painful reminder of how quickly people were willing to let you go.

“Y/N, I don’t know why you want to stay here so ba-“

“Because I care about my future Miles,” now you were yelling, “you’re not the only one who has had to sacrifice so much to get here!” a few sets of eyes were staring at you and Miles. Not wanting to make more of a scene, you grabbed your belongings and walked out on your best friend who sat there hurt and embarrassed for the second time since arriving at the school (the first being when his dad dropped him off at the beginning of the week).

You didn’t speak to Miles for the remainder of the day. You didn’t mean to yell but you knew what you needed was to patrol with Peter to get away from your schoolwork and all your other stress. It was good that you lucked out and didn’t get a roommate. Well, you did for two days and then she was gone - you don’t know if she couldn’t handle the pressure or something else had happened.

“Tough day at school today?” Peter started from your dorm window.

“Don’t wanna talk about it, Pete.” you grumbled as you pulled your mask on.

He didn’t bring it up for the rest of the night.

The following day, you had run late to your first class and tried multitasking during classes. By the time lunch rolled around, you and Miles still sat together, just didn’t say a word. He was listening to music as he ate while you worked and ate. You know Peter would’ve laughed if he saw the two of you. You were both mad at each other but you were still sitting together eating lunch. It was a testament to your friendship. The two of you could argue and yell at each other but like you both had said various times, you couldn’t get rid of the other easily. It would take a lot to leave each other. You knew in your heart of hearts that you could never leave Miles, no matter what he did. You loved the boy so much and considered him a lifeline. If you cut that, you don’t think you’d survive the world. Miles felt about the same. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that the two of you would be in each other’s lives forever; even through the ups and downs of life.

You had your final class of the day with Miles. It was an English Literature class and you had been assigned a personal assignment that your teacher decided was a good way to get to know the students. You were allowed to work alongside a partner for the remainder of class to brainstorm and start the assignment. Quietly, you and Miles made your way to each other, sitting in the back corner of the room on the floor. Miles had taken out his sketchbook to start brainstorming some ideas for how he could title his paper. You had forgotten your sketchbook in your locker. Regardless, you weren’t as skilled as Miles when it came to art. You mainly did little doodles in the margins of your notebooks. Which is why Miles referred to your sketchbook as a ‘doodle book’.

“I’m sorry for losing my cool with you, Miles” You bumped your shoulder with his as you aimlessly doodled on your notepad.

“Don’t worry about it, mi vida.” he was already writing something out on a page that had a few drawings. One that particularly stood out was a side profile of Araña. “I know how hard you worked to be here and I’m more than happy to have you here with me.” he smiled as he continued sketching.

“What’re you going to title your essay?” you rested your head on his shoulder, a natural position the two of you were often seen in.

“I’m not sure yet but I thought of one for yours,” he mindlessly spoke, his attention on getting the design just right for you, “if you like it, of course.”

Your eyes started focusing on the word he had spelled out, the lettering he kept simple, almost delicate.

“Hummingbird?” you eyed him, brows furrowed.

“Yeah…I read somewhere that they bring good luck if you’re visited by one,” he stated as he continued detailing around the lettering, “I think it suits you.” he sheepishly smiled.

You couldn’t help but smile and placed a quick peck on his cheek, “I don’t like it, Miles.” you state with a smile on your lips as you bring your focus back to your notepad.

“Lo adoro”

[comiicii]

Hummingbird

Backdrop: You and Miles have been best friends since you were babies. Doesn't mean that the friendship never faced some hardships. Pairing: e1610!Miles Morales x fem!spider!reader | e!1610 peter parker x platonic!reader Warnings: None, probably some grammatical errors. A's notes: This is going to be a series that spans both Spider-verse movies. This first chapter is mainly word vomit, laying the foundation for the next chapter. Reader is a spider-person in the story and her powers/suit are that of Aña Corazon. Word count: 2k

You and Miles hadn’t always been joined at the hip. You two had grown up together on the same block which meant your families were close. You both also attended Brooklyn Visions Academy. There was a rough patch you two went through before attending the school. It lasted about two years. Two years of hang outs cut short, excuses and apologies (from you). Thinking back on it, those two years were the absolute worst.

The reason those two years were a rough patch in your friendship with Miles was because you got bit by a radioactive spider and became your universe’s Spider-Girl. Your actual spider name was Araña but the news didn’t care - you were a menace to some like J. Jonah Jameson and Spider Girl sorta stuck.

You were 12 when that happened. There was already a Spider Man, Peter Parker but he gladly took you under his wing. He didn’t mind showing you the ropes. Your powers slightly varied from his. Besides the usual super strength, heightened senses, and all the general arachnid powers, you got the extra boost of organic webbing and camouflage (which you would later teach Miles how to control). Peter did his best to help you. You had grown fond of the mentor that you would later think of as an extension of your family. Peter had started out incredibly protective of you (newsflash, he never stopped being protective). You were 12 for crying out loud! He wasn’t going to throw you into the dangerous streets of New York to figure it all out. He saw how scared you were of your new found powers and what it meant for your future. He made it clear to you from the beginning that your life was never going to be normal or easy moving forward. He didn’t want to lie to you because while being a superhero looked like a lot of fun, it wasn’t always the case. Sacrifices would have to be made in your life for the sake of your anonymity and your loved ones’ safety.

After you got the hang of your basic spider powers (aka about two months), Peter started taking you on patrol with him. He barely let you be near a criminal. After months of patrolling and begging Peter to give you a chance, he let you have an ‘easy’ criminal. You had spent those months prior working out your suit. It differed from Peters iconic style which you admired but you wanted to stand out as your own. You had gone with a different color scheme; opting for black and white to keep it simple. Your insignia was white and was the statement of your suit, looking as if a big white spider was hugging your body. Your mask was something else that vastly differed from Peter’s. Normally, the point of a mask was to make sure your whole face was covered. Never being the type to go the conventional route, your mask covered your eyes, the top and side portions of your face. Besides, your e/c eyes were your most defining feature. Your mask went up to your hairline where it stopped so your hair was flowing in a pony of sorts. Your nose, mouth and ears visible. You had prototypes in which you did have a traditional mask like Peter’s but it was way too constricting and truthfully, you felt claustrophobic in the damn thing. Plus, you had added a heads up display into the mask so as to take calls from your family as well as being able to see in different spectrums of light. You were always tweaking the tech in your mask to add some new feature if you felt it made your superhero life slightly easier.

While Peter knew you could hold your own, he still kept a tight leash on you. While he told you life was going to be hard moving forward, he still wanted you to live your life. He didn’t want you to feel the weight of the world on your shoulders as you were still a kid. As he put it, he wanted you to savor the moments while you still had the opportunity to do so. To experience the things that define your childhood and build relationships that would balance out the hectic and soon to be somber life that came with being a Spider. You had confided in Peter about your friend, Miles. A friend you had drifted from since gaining your powers. Peter had told you that your loved ones would essentially need to be kept at arm’s length because they could possibly be used as leverage by enemies. The thought of your family or friends being caught up in all of it scared you and so you started distancing yourself from them. Your family didn’t get suspicious as they chalked it up to puberty hitting you hard. Peter could see first hand how much it hurt you to lie about such a big part of yourself to Miles, though. He knew your friendship would hit a bump as you tried to balance your hero and normal life.

Miles was different. You had loved the boy deeply. It wasn’t romantic. It was genuine, unconditional love between the two of you. Having grown up together made it easy to say ‘I love you’ and the bond the two of you shared over music and art was deeper than anything you had shared with anyone else. It hurt you when he had that concerned look on his face when he noticed a shift in your demeanor towards him. He was the first person to notice that you weren’t being yourself. That you were lost in something - he just couldn’t know what that was. You had tried to gradually distance yourself from him but it was hard. You two would still hang out but since you committed to your superhero life, you helped the city when you could - even if it meant sacrificing some precious moments with him. You were late to most of your hangouts. You were constantly coming up with half ass excuses and apologizing to him as to why you were late. You hated the look he got on his face every time you showed up late or blurted out an excuse. It hurt him and it didn’t make sense to Miles. He didn’t want to think you were outgrowing him as a friend.

“I’m sorry Miles. Got caught up with…homework.” You winced as you met his eyes.

He knew you were lying. He knew very well that the words coming out of your mouth were absolute bullshit. Your wincing was also cause you got into it with the bad guy of the week and didn’t necessarily walk away scotch free (which Peter scolded you about like the big brother he was).

“It’s alright. I know your family is just as hard on you about school like mine”

He always understood. That was the problem. He didn’t want to lose you so he accepted that whatever was going on with you, it didn’t involve him. He came to terms that maybe whatever you were going through, you wanted to do on your own. He knew you were stubborn like that. He just hoped that you would find your way back to him. His mom had told him that it happens in friendships. Some dissipate while others come back to you after straying for a moment.

As your friendship with Miles suffered the first year of getting your powers, you got the hang of your powers and helped out Peter whenever you could. You started small and as time passed, you showed Peter how valuable you were as a partner in this world. Sure, you had your fair share of mistakes, you were still a kid after all, but you learned from them and always got back up. That’s something you quickly picked up on about being a Spider - you always got back up.

Peter would always let you know if he could handle things on his own or if he was chasing down a lead that left you alone to patrol for a short period of time. Again, he tried to give you time off so you could be a kid. He didn’t mind the company but it was hard for him to see someone so young be thrown into his world. You appreciated the sweet moments you shared with Peter and always smiled when he sent you a text saying to enjoy your Friday night with friends and family because it was a quiet night in Brooklyn.

“Hey Pete?” you broke the comfortable silence you were sharing atop a deli the pair of you frequented on relatively quiet nights of patrolling. He had grabbed a sandwich for the two of you to split.

“Hm?” He hummed as took a bite of his sandwich.

“Thank you,”

“What for, arañita?” his Spanish wasn’t perfect but you loved that he tried and used the spider name you gave yourself.

“For y’know…taking me under your wing” you started, looking to your mentor with genuine love and admiration. “I know it wasn’t easy having to take me on” you chuckled as you bumped your relatively small knee with his bigger one.

“Hey now, where’s this coming from?” He softly knocked your knee in return as he faced you, worried that you were going through something.

“Nowhere! Can’t your awesome spider-pupil tell you she appreciates you without there being an ulterior motive?” you laughed as you took a bite of your sandwich.

At that, he had a smug grin which earned him a slightly harder bump from your knee to his.

“I don’t know…you usually butter me up before asking for something.”

“Well, this isn’t one of those times.” you laugh once more as you look out to the bustling skyline of New York and continue eating your sandwich with pure bliss.

Those were the moments you savored with Peter.

As the months rolled into a year, you oh so slowly began to almost successfully balance your hero and normal life. Your grades had slipped slightly when you got bit but they were on the up and up. Your friendship with Miles was very clearly hanging by a thread. Miles didn’t reach out to you as much and there were more moments of awkward silence between the two of you than you would’ve liked. It wasn’t normal for the two of you to not talk about something. You wanted to let him into your world. So badly. You knew that he would be happy for you and support you like the amazing friend he was. He wouldn’t tell you to quit, he’d tell you to keep going and keep fighting. He probably would help you with upgrading your suit. You hated that you couldn’t share that part of your life with him. It would put him at risk of being used against you. You didn’t want him to be used as some pawn in a villain’s eyes to get to you. Peter could see the toll the secrecy was having on you and tried his best to keep your mind off it if conversations trailed to that territory. It wasn’t like you hadn’t breached the subject of the new ‘Spider-Girl’ to him, though. You brought it up once to gauge his reaction to the whole idea.

“What do you make of the new Spider-Girl swinging around with Spider-man?” You mindlessly asked while scrolling through your phone as a distraction from the studying you and Miles were supposed to be doing.

“Mm, thought she went by Araña?…but not bad, I guess?” he answered, his eyes not leaving his notebook that had his class notes, waiting for his brain to actually absorb the information on the page.

A flutter of your heart. He knows your actual spider name!

“Her suit looks pretty cool..” you nonchalantly commented, your eyes quickly looking to him for a reaction.

“Does look cool with the black and white,” he smiled, his pencil now aimlessly doodling on the margins of his notes. “I think Spider-man’s training her ‘cause maybe he’s getting old…probably wants to hand the reigns to someone younger.” he continued.

“Think she’ll be good at it?”

“Oh yeah.”

[comiicii]

You will do a part 2 for "Gotham Tales"? I loved that that one💕

of course! i’ll be posting it sometime this week :) just want to make sure you guys will like it. i’m so glad you loved it!! im excited (and nervous) to show you part 2 🤍

[comiicii]

so clearly "last week" was code for "lemme take my sweet-ass time" and i am sorry for that. here's part two !!

[comiicii]

Gotham Tales II

part i | masterlist

Backdrop: You and Bruce have been friends since childhood. You are both heirs to your families' legacies. As years passed, things between you and Bruce changed and became strained. Takes place a year before the events in the film but takes elements that were established from before the film. Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Batman (R. Pattinson) x fem!reader Warnings: none that i can recall. some grammar errors, probably. A's Notes: here is a direct sequel to the first part of Gotham Tales! thank you for the support! i apologize for this taking so long to post. i also apologize if this doesn't meet your expectations. please like and reblog as well as give me some feedback or whatever comment you want. this was heavily inspired by two songs; 'haunted' by maty noyes and ‘for us’ by osman. Word count: 2.6k

-

“The Prince of Gotham finally comes out of hiding,” Carmine sings as his hand on your waist tightened, an indication that he was enjoying this. You and Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s royalty ripe for manipulation. “I’m assuming it took some convincing from Princess over here, hm?” he continued without missing a beat.

“Carmine, Bruce and I were just catching up.” you eyed Carmine with what looked like a refined anger; it was evident that you were unhappy and usually you were careful of not letting your emotions get the best of you.

You didn’t like what would come of their interaction. It scared you that Falcone would use Bruce in a way that would hurt him. You couldn’t care less about what Falcone did with you but when it came to Bruce, you wanted to keep him as far away as possible from your world that involved Falcone. Not only did you not want Bruce to know of the relationship you had with Falcone, you simply didn’t want your friend to look at you differently. Bruce assumed the worst in people since he lost his parents. It wouldn’t surprise you if he did the same with you if he were to ever find out about the world you struggled to keep at bay.

The look you gave to Falcone was the first time in a year that Bruce saw anger within you. He had seen you angry before, especially at him, but this was different. You were protective but also scared. You were hiding something and it was his intention to find out what it was.

“Beautiful, mind joining me for a dance?” Carmine asked, his hand on your body already guiding you away from the man you were protecting and quite frankly, he liked seeing you be protective. It was cute. Bruce looked on as he took another sip of his drink, prepared to follow your every move like a hawk.

“That was real cute, protecting the little prince from me.” he started as he held your frame close to his. One hand on the small of your back while the other delicately held your hand. It took all the restraint you had to not slap him in front of all your guests. Most probably were waiting to see you explode while some just wanted to see Falcone be humiliated by you. Guess you’d be disappointing everyone tonight.

“Carmine, leave him out of this,” you softly pleaded. “please.” Being soft was a safer route than being crass with him. You were stroking his ego; begging him to spare your friend. “He knows nothing and I’d like to keep it that way. He’ll never hear a word from me about what we have going on.” you continued, pressing your body closer to his as you danced. Letting him feel you against him. Your phrasing intentional, of course. If you played into whatever image he had of the two of you, he would back down. Playing that doe-eyed damsel is what usually got him to do what you wanted. He scoffed with a smirk. He knew what you were doing and on the contrary, he loved it.

“Look at you, thinking I’ll do whatever you say,” he chuckled as his hand on your back ever so slightly slid further down, just taunting to hold you where it would be humiliating to you; metaphorically and physically. “As ravishing as you are in that dress—and you are quite the beauty every time I see you, doll— you can’t tell me what to do. If I want to mess with your little prince, I will. If I have to remind you who’s in charge between the two of us, I will.” his hand squeezed yours; not gently like he usually did. It was harsh and even if no one was paying attention, he made it crystal clear. The image of the two of you being the definition of how this man held the power over you. He owned you and if he had to be a little rough with you to make it easy for you to understand that, then so be it. It was humiliation at its finest and while you were the object of his affections, it was a reminder that you were not in control. He was the one who called the shots and you were to follow even if it seemed like he let you do what you wanted. In the end, your money was mixed with his. It was tainted and everything you did would be tainted if you barked back at Falcone.

Bruce could see the discomfort and fear that shone in your eyes. The extravagant chandelier hanging above highlighting it for him (and everyone else who was looking at you both) to see. He could see the tears starting to form in your eyes. Whatever you were going to tell him before, he knew had to do with Falcone. Your facade of comfort fading and fear setting in.

“Mr. Falcone,” a gruff voice interrupted the humiliation, “We have to leave.” It was the Penguin, Oswald Cobblepot. You didn’t have many encounters with him, only a few from your visits to the Iceberg Lounge when Falcone requested your presence. Oz never spoke to you coldly, always with respect. You didn’t know if that was because of his genuine fondness of you or if Falcone told him to never speak to you rudely. You’d never know the truth but his interruption made him your lifesaver. The look of fear and pain in your eyes enough for him to feel an inkling of pity for you, Gotham’s Princess.

Carmine nodded at Oz, whispering to him to wait outside. He walked you back towards Bruce, his arm back around your waist as you intertwined your arm in his, giving you time to compose yourself.

“Beautiful, sorry that I have to leave so soon. I’ll see you around.” You swallowed your fear as the two of you were in front of Bruce. He brought your hand to his lips, a soft peck grazing your knuckles as he smiled and turned to Bruce, “Mr. Wayne, mind keeping her company for me for the rest of the night?” Bruce nodded, a cue for him to leave. “Have a good night, sweetheart.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your hand found Bruce’s and the nausea you felt subsided. What was supposed to be a peaceful night turned into one of the worst.

“Are you alright?” Bruce broke the silence once he noticed you were calm again.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Wayne, can I get a picture?” John, the paparazzo from the other day chimed in before you could respond. You put forth your best smile and adjusted your body against Bruce’s; your front angled against his torso as his hand found its place along your waist. For the first time that night, you enjoyed having a man’s hand on you. Bruce mustered whatever smile he could. It wasn’t as radiant as yours but still made him look handsome.

“Wow, first time you guys have been photographed in God knows how long.” John sighed with content as he looked at the picture that would surely make headlines tomorrow. To him, it looked natural. It had been years since the two of you were photographed. The last time the two of you were photographed was when Thomas Wayne was running for mayor. He and Martha were seated on their patio next to your parents, both couples content with the scene before them; Bruce and you running around the spacious backyard. You were playing a princess and Bruce was the brave knight who had just slayed the dragon holding you captive. The headline for that picture was related to Thomas and his campaign but the main focus were the two of you. You two were thought of as the future of Gotham. The children that would carry the legacy of both your families. You and Bruce were thought to be destined for each other. Destined to carry the Wayne and Y/L/N legacies. Together. There were plenty of other pictures of the two of you afterwards but after Thomas and Martha’s murders. This photograph made it look as if you were carved for each other’s bodies; you, the radiant beauty of the city and Bruce, the reserved but handsome Prince of Gotham. John thanked you both and made his way to the bar.

Bruce’s hand remained on your waist as your head rested on his shoulder, breathing in his scent as a way to ground yourself. He didn’t say anything, his thumb rubbing against the soft fabric of your dress in a soothing motion. You didn’t want the moment to end. You wanted to stay where you were. Reality was that you couldn’t escape the dread that was in the pit of your stomach. That feeling was going to stay there for as long as you were to be in the situation.

“Bruce,” you whispered, not moving your head, “take me home, please.”

Without pause, Bruce found your hand and led you out of your own gala. You were sure the press was going to widely speculate about the nature of your departure with him. Maybe, for once, you’d enjoy reading about it.

Bruce took you home and without much thought, you invited him inside. Your manor was grand and you managed to maintain the estate with the exception of stacks of paperwork littering the main dining table. You were like your father, an organized mess when it came to paperwork. It made Bruce smile because despite being seemingly perfect, you had a flaw.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess at the moment, haven’t had the time to clean up for company.” You sheepishly apologized as you shed your coat from your shoulders. You hadn’t realized Bruce was behind you until you turned around and bumped your chest with his with a slight ‘oof’. His demeanor had returned to its usual neutral but rigid state. He never knew when to let something go. So stubborn you thought. You knew what he was thinking with the look he had on his face.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Bruce,” you sighed as you looked at him with sincerity despite the words leaving your lips being utter lies. Your fear for him was sincere. You walked past him to the small bar where all your liquor was displayed, pouring yourself a glass of rum.

Bruce didn’t ease in his suspicion of you hiding the truth from him. It wasn’t something that you often did or maybe he just didn’t notice. After all, you had this hold on him that he couldn’t quite explain. There was something that lingered in your eyes after Falcone left and while you insisted it was nothing, your eyes betrayed your lie. You didn’t want him to know the line you were constantly trying to avoid crossing.

“Remember how we used to play hide and seek when our fathers were holding some sort of meeting?” you attempted changing the subject with a sip of your glass, your back still to him. God, you’d be dehydrated tomorrow morning. A small smile spread across your lips at the vast memories of the two men conversing at the table. It was always business when the two spoke and you were running around in the background with Bruce. You missed the warmth of your childhood. The only warmth you were getting in return was from the alcohol numbing your fear.

“Why do you keep deflecting?” he finally spoke as he eyed the back of your dress. As much as he wanted to know the truth, some thoughts that littered his brain tonight were simply about you and that dress. More specifically, you without that dress. Each passing moment that you spent in his presence, the thoughts that he’d suppressed were crawling their way to the forefront. Edging him to throw whatever was his mission with you out the window and indulge himself with you if you wanted to do the same. His physical want for you and his stubbornness to figure out what you were hiding from him were causing a raging battle within himself.

He knew you were avoiding his gaze. You were close to spilling whatever it was that was haunting your subconscious. He knew that you wanted to tell him but just couldn’t bring yourself to do so due to the fear instilled within you. Bruce knew that it had to be serious if you were in such a state. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, for sure. You always knew how to act, react and say no matter the circumstances but with Falcone, it seemed like you weren’t sure what to do. It was the first time he’d seen fear within you. You were born in Gotham, by definition born tough. You’d fiercely defended your family (and his) through the years with the growing wage gap and drug epidemic. You were practically the spokesperson for Bruce for the last decade or so since he didn’t speak publicly. You had taken on that mantle. He just wanted to help you. From following you through the media and whatever Alfred said to him, you were so strong and taking on the world. He regretted the way the two of you ended the conversation the previous year. It gutted him to see you struggling. He didn’t want to lose you like he did his parents. He didn’t want to have a front row seat to your death due to your campaign to help this city you two called home.

“Please, Y/N…” his voice so soft and pleading for you to just spill everything and let him in. His feet padding across your marble floors until his body was just inches away from your back. You could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. You turned around with eyes glossy from the alcohol combined with tears of the utter fear that still coursed through you at the thought of Carmine Falcone hurting him. Maybe it was the alcohol heightening every emotion and making you want to spill your secrets.

“Falcone…” you started, trying to steady your breathing as it felt like you had forgotten how to breathe on your own. “I’m so scared, Bruce,” you shakily admitted.

“What’s he done to you?” he softly questioned, a hand coming to hold your hip while his other gently wiped the tears that had started to fall. “Please, Y/N…tell me.” Bruce didn’t often show his vulnerable side. It was rare to see him show emotions aside from anger and disgust. He kept his emotions in check with everyone. Well, everyone except you and Alfred. You were the only two who saw his varying emotions. It was absolutely killing him to the point of tears. Seeing the pain on his face only made the conflict rage on.

Telling him would risk his life. Despite being the Batman. There was no guarantee that he would survive the men that guarded the biggest mob boss in Gotham. But in not telling him, you risk your own life and the risk of your family name being torn down by Falcone. There was nothing that guaranteed you and Bruce would get away scratch-free. The risks were too high to do either one. Whether it was the alcohol or your nerves being fried from being on edge earlier, your brain didn’t have time to stop the words that spilled from your lips.

“Kiss me.”

a's taglist: i'm sorry if you were unable to be tagged!@strawberriebabbles @summerkate @pcyshi @anescapistreality @nicklet94 @nowayhomerry @1-imaginary-girl

[obiwan]

#Thor: Love and Thunder Synopsis: