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peachesofteal · 3 months

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Simple Math / Part 8

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut. Graphic domestic violence, physical abuse, choking. Non consensual kissing. Hospital setting, nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies. Drowning metaphors. Strong feelings of self loathing, despair, fear, anxiety. Suicidal ideation. Crying. Panic attacks. Bun is unraveling. Comfort. Protective Simon and Johnny. Things are happening.

The girl in the mirror hates you.

It’s easy to tell, by the way she stares, how her eyes glow in the yellow fluorescents of the staff bathroom.

You make her sick.

Your weakness, your stupidity, has cost her, again. As if it hasn’t cost her enough at this point, as if it hasn’t drained her dry over and over until she thought she would die.

Until she thought she wanted to die.

Someone knocks on the bathroom door.

“Occupied.” You snap, and they huff, turning away to go who knows where.

You peek back over to the girl in the mirror. She still stares at you in disdain, but now it’s more expectant, more… intrigued, like she’s asking, well… what are you going to do?

“What are you going to do, sugar?” Phillip’s hands tighten around your neck, white teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun of your apartment. The sound of your windpipe being crushed echoes inside your eardrums, and you flail uselessly, struggling, kicking and hissing and crying to no avail. “Where are you going to run next?” Black spiderweb strings along the outside of your vision, and your palm slaps against his forearm, a pathetic endeavor, as always.

He’s too strong. Too determined.

You’re an ant. He’s a shoe.

You’re an early high school grad, on an academic scholarship at school your mom couldn’t afford, and he’s the charismatic grandson of a Texan oil tycoon, the son of a judge, living in a fancy house without roommates in the city.

You want to be a doctor. He wants a housewife.

You want to be a mother; he promises to beat them out of you.

You want a life in the sun. He wants to become a shadow himself.

“Phillip.” You wheeze, air snaking through your teeth. He lowers his ear, like he can’t hear you, a mocking bow that you know he relishes.

“What’s that?”

“Can’t- breathe-“ The sigh that answers you is what you imagine a disappointed father sounds like, followed by a tsk, an over developed dramatic show that you’ve come to know so well, and he throws you to the ground in one motion, shoulder smacking against the hard wood floor.

There’s a tear of muscle. An immediate soreness. Stars dance in your vision.

“Gotta hand it to you, princess. You were hard to find this time.”

You don’t have an answer for the girl in mirror.

Even with the turtleneck and the very good makeup, it’s bad. There is no doubt, someone will notice.

And then there will be questions. Nonstop questions, personal questions, private questions. Questions from your boss and an HR rep behind a closed door somewhere, invasive, mandated reporting, logical questions that you must have answers for.

You chew your lip.

It’s not so obvious, maybe, with the turtleneck. The long sleeve under your scrub top covers the tender flesh on your neck, your shoulder, your forearm. It’s second nature, how easily you hide, how perfectly they tuck away, little stories beaten into your skin for no one else but you to feel.

Except for your orbital and cheek bones.

These are blatant. The ball cap pulled down over most of your face hid them well enough on your way in but now... inflamed, angry skin swells beneath your eye, and while it looks okay, you guess, when you get close, it’s obvious that something is wrong. The foundation and failed attempt at contour can only do so much.

It’s shocking to realize you’re actually mad at him for it.

For being so impulsive.

So sloppy.

But then again, wasn’t that your fault?

You’re bold. Bolder than ever before. Closer to the top of your breaking point now, angry and beaten down and dying in the black of a bottomless pit. Unable to escape. Unable to climb out.

You’ve been falling inside it for years, and it’s all you ever do.

Fall.

And you’re so, so tired. All you want, is for it to end.

“That was sick, even for you, Phillip. What are you, some kind of freak? Jerking off all over your ex girlfriend’s-“ The backhand is swift. It rockets across your face, combination of it’s force and the sting making your head spin, and you stumble.

When you lurch, he presses close, chest to your side, strong fingers digging into your forearm so tight it hurts.

“Don’t say that.” His lips drag across your cheek, insult to injury where he struck you. They press together in a kiss, a foul, rancid piece of affection, making your stomach turn.“You know I don’t when you call yourself that. I don’t like when you lie, sweet thing. It’s not very nice.”

“It’s not a lie, you Texarkana hillbilly fuck, it’s the tru-“ You’re up against the wall in a single movement, arm twisted so hard you cry out, and he shoves you into place until he’s got you where he likes, face to face, nose to nose.

“There’s my spitfire. Knew she was in there somewhere.” The nickname almost makes your retch. It’s a flicker of a memory, of yourself before the grave of your now life, the fateful twist that is Phillip Graves.

“I hate you.” You spit. His eye twitches, and he looks every bit the insane man you know him to be.

Because this... this is Phillip having fun. This is Phillip playing with his food. Phillip and his toy.

This is not Phillip’s crazed rage. This is not suit and tie Phillip, rip your hair out from the roots Phillip, beat you until you’re unrecognizable Phillip.

This isn’t the Phillip who slaughters innocent people. Who murders entire towns for pleasure.

For a very short moment, your mind drifts to Simon and Johnny. You wonder what they’re doing right now, if they’ve already had their lunch, if Penny visited today. If maybe she napped with her Da safe and snuggled, sweet and asleep dreaming of sugar plums. You think about the light in Johnny’s eyes from last night, the way he looked at his daughter, and Simon, and even you. You remember the press of Simon’s mask covered lips on your forehead, a sweet, comforting piece of affection that you’ve already locked inside your heart.

You float there. In those feelings, those memories.

You wish they were here. You wish they could help you.

The acknowledgement is terrifying. It happens so fast, hardly a second, but in that time, horror shivers down your spine.

You’d put them in danger, for yourself. Your selfish, stupid self.

Phillip’s mouth hovers over yours, and you swallow the gag rising in your throat.

“I can’t stay.” He whispers, pseudo-gentle kisses adorning your nose, your cheek again. “It’s really rotten luck, honestly, you showing back up here today. I was just saying my see you laters.” You’re not religious, but the thoughts come easily regardless. Oh god, thank god. Thank fucking god. You have a chance.“I know you’ll be here when I get back, won’t you? I’m tired of chasing you around the world, sugar.” He gives you another wet, closed lip kiss, and your jaw trembles. “If you’re not, it’ll be that much worse for ya.”

You can do this.

It’s not anything you haven’t done before.

Deep breath. You can do this.

Stepping outside the bathroom is like taking your first steps as a child. You’re slow, pushing through the burn in your side, the sore agony in your shoulder, the torn cartilage you’re sure is the cause the of the pain in your shoulder.

You can do this.

Get it together. Get yourself together. You’re not going far.

You make it down the hall without running into anyone, and once you reach the on-call room, you’re breathing long sighs of relief, sliding the lock into place after the door shuts behind your back.

Two black duffels sit on the floor, staring at you. Mocking you, just like the girl in the mirror.

What are you going to do?

The receptionist is calling your name.

You ignore her, trying to make it to the elevators, almost breaking into a run even though you’re in pain, your face throbbing, neck sore beyond belief.

“Sorry, can you-“ Intercepted on your path, she gasps. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“I was mugged.” It’s a point-blank response, even though you sound like a frog or a piece of roadkill, and it brokers no argument. You look at her with the flattest gaze imaginable, dissuading her from saying anything else.

“I- I’m sorry. We’ve been trying to call you.” The hair on the back of your neck rises.

“For what?”

“We need your room. There’s been a block reserved, and it includes the floor you're on. I'm... sorry.” You’re not able to contain your shock, mouth dropping open, heart cracking into tiny pieces.

On top of everything. Now this.

The receptionist peeks at you nervously, waiting on pins and needles for a response.

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning, I’m afraid. I’m so sorry. The hotel apologizes, the block is paying for a higher rate and-“

“It’s fine, really. I needed to check out anyway.” You know it’s not her fault. Hell, you’d be surprised if it wasn’t the hotel’s fault either. It’s not like Phillip wouldn’t move heaven and earth to force you out of hiding. He's more than capable of finding out where you’re staying.

She gives you another apologetic look before scurrying away, and the elevator doors finally enclose around you, a tidal wave of despair swelling in your heart, dropping you to your knees with gut wrenching sobs.

You’re crying again. Curled up in the on-call bed, your shoulders shake in hysteria, tears and panic overwhelming everything you have left, swallowing you until you can’t see the surface anymore.

Your throat burns. Breathing is like rubbing sandpaper down the back of your tongue, and you wheeze when you try to take deep breaths, shoulder shrieking in misery every time you shift.

You have to get it together. You have to work in an hour.

But you can’t. You dig deep and try, desperately working to pull something forward, something sane and controlled, but there’s nothing to be found, only acid in your throat. The hysteria mounts. It catches the wind and flies down the hill, crashing into you over and over until your hands are clenched together so tight, even they hurt.

You fucking idiot. You waited too long. You ran out of time.

You’re dead.

“Oh my god.” Nia covers her mouth, eyes wide. You hold up a palm.

“It looks way worse than it actually is.” Another nurse peeks around her shoulder, and gasps.

“What happened to you?”

“I was mugged yesterday, getting off the train.”

“Oh my god!”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“Yes, I did.” You assuage them to the best of your ability, reassuring their worry. “I filed a report, and they didn’t get anything important. I’m okay. Really.” And then the kicker: “I would tell you if I wasn’t.” You glance at everyone, four or five now, gathered around, and lay on the final piece of the puzzle. False familiarity and the ever present desire to be relevant. “Wouldn’t I, Nia?” You gesture around to expectant faces as if to say, tell them, and she readily agrees.

“Yeah, she totally would.”

Everyone pretty much leaves you alone after that. Patients need checks, meds, all of the usual stuff. You assure Nia once more in private, promising that you’re okay, and she reluctantly leaves you alone too, once you swear up and down.

The only thing that doesn’t leave you alone, is your cellphone.

>Hey, just wanted to check in, see how your day off was yesterday?

>Bunny :)

There are a few others, alternating like above, Simon first, then Johnny. Asking if you got some rest, if you’re okay, and then a promise not to push.

You ignore them.

You ignore the feeling in your chest at the sight of their incoming text messages, the proof of their care.

You ignore the way it feels to know they’re only a floor below you.

You ignore the fact that when you got here today, all you wanted to do was run to Johnny’s room and settle in that chair next to his bed, curl up close to them, where there’s love, where there’s warmth.

You ignore it at all.

Get it together. You have a job to do.

Simon appears at the pit three hours into your shift. There’s no one around, everyone trying to take breaks, cover breaks, or deal with whatever emergency is happening in the moment, except you.

And when you round the corner and spot him, waiting, it takes your breath away.

Half of your reaction is pure fear. The last thing you want is for him to see you like this. Beaten. Broken. Ugly.

The other half is… something pure. Something enamored. He came up here, why? Is he worried because you didn’t answer? Do they care?

Still-

You start to turn on your heel, eyes flipping wide and panic startling your heart. You’re barely a shadow, a clip of a person on the other end of the hall and yet-

“Hey, there you are.”

Fuck. The acid starts to rise all over again. You keep your face tilted down towards the floor.

Maybe you can pretend you don’t hear him. You leap back around the corner, practically running towards the on-call room, where your life sits in two black bags, waiting.

You can’t do this. You can’t face them, let them see.

Something desperate gnaws in the pit of your soul, a howl that begs you to turn back and let him in, let them both in, tell them everything.

It’s selfish, and cruel.

It’s unfair.

He calls your name. You still don’t answer. Your scrub pants swish together as you jog, trying to get away, but the effort is in vain. He’s too quick, long strides overtaking yours at a brisk walk, and just before you reach the door, he positions his body in front of the handle, an immovable wall.

There’s a long moment of silence. You stare up into his face, wide eyed, horrified.

You know what he’s seeing. A failure. A moron. A mess.

To his credit, his expression does not change. His brow does not furrow. He only stares at you, frozen, slow thawing fury finally glowing in his eyes after a centuries’ long minute.

He reaches, time standing still, the back of his fingers stroking the lightest touch against your tender cheek, and his voice is almost unrecognizable behind the mask when he snarls,

“Who did this to you?”

The tears come in a flood. You don’t understand why the breakdown comes in this moment, why everything crashes into a million little pieces, until you feel a strong, careful arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a broad, warm chest, face tenderly nestled into a black hoodie. It feels… safe. Like a home you haven’t had in a long, long time. Like something you never thought you’d feel again.

Maybe it’s a moment of weakness. Maybe it’s your downfall, another thing for the girl in the mirror to be angry with you about, you’re not sure. You’re not sure about anything except this feeling, this feeling that lights up your heart in an explosion of fireworks, fear and panic and anxiety soothing into sadness, into a homesick feeling for a love, a life you’ve never had.

Maybe it’s a moment of weakness, when you sob his name, when you go limp against him and he holds you steady, a cheek atop your head, soft words washing over you in a whisper.

Maybe it’s a moment of weakness, but right now, you can’t seem to care.

Johnny is distraught.

Simon brings you into his room, still tucked into his side. He’s careful with you, telegraphing all his movements, letting you know where he’s going, reverence rich in his touch like he’s handling glass.

“What in the-“

“Bun says she was mugged.” Simon tells him, and you miss whatever is happening over your bowed head, hands shaking with nerves all over again. “She assures me she’s not hurt but-“

“I’m fine.” You croak, and Johnny jerks, mouth half open in disbelief. The light is dim, casting short shadow across his face, his sweet eyes drenched in worry, and you stand at the foot of his bed, tears waiting on your waterline. “I’m okay, they didn’t really get anything, and I-“

“Come here.” He cuts you off, raising both arms, extending them as wide as he can manage, scooting his hips to the side. It’s a feat, but he hides the grimace of pain well. When you don't budge, he repeats himself, firmly the second time. “Bunny. Come here.”

The shame burns, entrenched in you so deep, you know you’ll never be able to cut it out, and your tears fall unbidden, encouraged by the hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach, your heart, an ache that you need soothed so desperately.

You’re out of control. You’re losing your grip.

You had a moment of weakness but this… this is too much.

“Please, pretty girl.” He whispers, reaching you where no one else can. Speaking to you through the fog of your doubt, your hatred, your fear.

Your hands shake as you reach for his, and when you sit beside him, hip to thigh, he looks at you like he’s staring at someone other than the person who used to be his nurse. He’s looking at you the way you catch him looking at Simon sometimes. Bright gaze full of love. Of worry.

“I’m okay.”

“No, ye’re not.” He shakes his head. “Ye’re not. This is not okay.” The way he says it feels like he knows, like he understands, and you swallow dry, breathing ragged and shallow. It turns frantic, and he squeezes your knee gently, redirecting your attention. “Hey, shhh. It’s okay. Ye’re safe with us.” Simon sits on the arm of the chair, directly next to the bed.

“Do you need to count your breaths?” He cuts directly to the quick. Will this provide you relief? Will this stop the pain? The agony?

No.

“N-no.” You gasp.

“Okay. Just try to breathe, everything’s alright."

I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just this- this happened and then I found out I had to find a new place to stay, and I st-still haven’t, so I have to sleep in the on call room, and I don’t-“

“Whoa, okay. Slow down.” Simon soothes, hand slowly sliding up and down your spine. You relax into it, marginally, clocking the subtle upward tick of Johnny’s lips, firm line shifting into a small smile, and then turning cross.

“What do ye mean, ye dinnae have a place to stay?”

“My apartment-“ is trashed. Is a scene of a crime. Is a hollow rib cage housing a dead heart. “is being renovated so I’ve been living in a hotel,” Johnny nods, like he knows. Of course he does. What secrets do they have between? Probably none. “But someone reserved a whole block and there’s no vacancies, so I had to check out this morning.” It’s pathetic, the way you’re crying over this, the way you feel, but it’s all so forlorn in this moment, and you can't stop yourself from falling deeper and deeper into a well of despair, hopelessness dragging you to the bottom, trying to drown you. “It’s not a big deal but-“

“It is a big deal.” Johnny declares. “Ye had somethin’ horrible happen to ye, and now this on top of it?” Simon shifts, flat palm and fingers pushing down through the air, and you barely catch it from the corner of the eye. It’s the same kind of sign you give someone when you want them to slow down, and you blink.

What’re you doing?

“I… I’m fine.” You wince at the croak in your voice, last menthol infused cough drop wearing off, bringing back the raw pain in your windpipe, the gravel grit of bruising in your voice.

“It’s okay to be upset, bun. Anyone would be.” You wipe your face, chasing away the tracks of tears and trying not to wince when you straighten your back.

“I know, but I’m okay. Really.”

“Ye cannae stay in an on-call room.” What?

“Oh… it’s fine. It,” wouldn’t be the first time. “It’s not a big deal.” Simon is watching you, focused with that same blazing intensity that feels like he’s digging around inside your skull.

“Why don’t you stay with us?”

“What?” You blurt. “No. No, I… I couldn’t. It’s not-“

“Appropriate?” Simon finishes, head cocked. “Johnny isn’t your patient anymore.”

“And we have plenty o’ room. Penny’s still staying with Price’s a lot, because Simon’s here all the time, so it’d be nice and quiet for ye.” Say no. Tell them no.

“I couldn’t. It’s… you hardly know me. You’d invite me to live in your house?” Incredulously, you stare at them, flicking back and forth between two expectant, understanding faces.

“We know ye. Ye try to hide yerself from us, bun, but… ye cannae. Ye light up every room ye step foot in, and I dinnae think we would have made it through this without ye. Ye’re special to us, even if ye cannae accept it.” He winks. “Yet.”

“We want to help, sweetheart. Let us help you.” You’re between a rock and a hard place. An immovable force, and object. Two wills, locking in around you.

But instead of a cage, it’s warm. It’s gentle. It’s… safe.

“I couldn’t encroach.” You’re on autopilot, mouth making sounds that your heart protests. Simon sighs.

“You’re not encroaching. We’re inviting you.”

You would be putting them in danger.

“I… I can’t.”

“Why?” Johnny’s still got his hand on yours, and he squeezes, carefully. “Talk to us, bunny.”

“Tell us what’s really going on.” Simon is grave, and for a second, air gets stuck in your lungs, fighting to escape.

You cannot tell them. No matter what. You can’t. The turtleneck is too tight, cotton and polyester scratching at your sore skin, and you shiver.

“There… there’s n-nothing going on. What if the people that mugged me,“ come back to finish the job? Track me down? Words die on your tongue, the lamest attempt to push them back withering away. Simon is having none of it.

“We’re special forces, love. No one is going to get to you while you’re with us." He pauses, trapping you, holding you in stasis, and when he repeats himself, it's a dark vow, a promise. "No one.”

If you do this. You have to tell them.

You can trust them. They’ve proven that so far, haven’t they?

You hardly know them.

But isn’t that better?

“I…” Your hand raises instinctively to your throat, and Johnny’s eyes narrow.

“Bunny.” He leans forward at the waist, slow as to not hurt himself, and you sit, frozen, bug eyed, transfixed on his hand that are stretching towards your turtleneck.

You should stop him. You should tell him to back off. You should do something.

You can't. You don't. You sit there, waiting for the discovery. Waiting for the shame.

Once he hooks his pointer finger in the top and tugs, it’s over.

Your heart stops in your chest. Johnny burns, dragon flame and rage, incineration boiling over in his body.

“Bleedin’ christ.” He hisses.

“Fucking hell.” Simon echoes, and you close your eyes. You know the tender skin looks bad. Swollen. Angry.

“Please.” You whisper, lower lip quivering, floodgates trying to burst into pieces. “Please I… I can’t talk about it. I c-can’t, I can’t-“

“Okay, okay. Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe now, sweetheart. You’re safe.” You’re crying violently, unable to see, trying to rasp out apologies, and Simon stands, tucking you back into his chest, big hand on the back of your head. Johnny keeps his touch at your back, consistent, reassuring pressure that rubs from the top of your spine down, and he hums delicate, affectionate phrases lilting in heavy Scots’.

The girl in the mirror screams at you inside your head. She calls you a fool. A coward. She tells you the truth, that you’ll only get them hurt, that you know better.

You don’t disagree with a single thing. You know all this to be true.

But for a moment… would it be so bad to indulge? To have one- two good things in your life, even if it’s fleeting. Even if you know how it will end, can you not just have this for yourself, in this suspended moment of time, this chance?

You want it. Them. So desperately, it swells and aches and tugs at you, just as they do.

Time ticks forward, and you do not pull away. You don't try to hide, or evade. You just... exist. Between them. The rock and the hard place.

“Alright?” Simon murmurs, your tears now stopped, only delicate sniffles sounding from his chest. You nod, shifting backward to take them both in.

“I… if you’ll have me, I’ll… I’ll stay, until I can find a place.” Inky dark shadow flickers across Simon’s face, but sunlight chases it away, happiness crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

“Are ye sure?” Johnny is hopeful, bright, and beautiful, and you tighten your grasp on his hand, holding it like you’ll never let go. You take a deep breath-

You take the plunge.

A moment in the sun.

“I’m sure.”

#simple math #peaches writes #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john mactavish #phillip graves

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underoossss · 11 months

Text

Tell me – Miguel O’Hara

pairing: jealous!miguel ohara x f!reader

warnings: none

an: had a lot of fun writing this, pls laugh with me when you see the little crossover I included lol. anyway, have some pining!miguel that gets jealous when he learns something from your mission and a pining spiderwoman who gets on his nerves

masterlist

—-

“So, there you have it guys, another fun adventure for Spider-Sting.” You say as you step back into the Society, a rogue Scorpion trapped next to you and your phone help up high to frame the two of you. The displeased villain rolls his eyes and you laugh. “Bye!”

A frustrated groan comes from your watch a second later, and you smile knowing who it belongs to. You shoot a web towards the trap and hold it over your shoulder, dragging the Scorpion behind you on your way to Miguel’s lab. “Let me guess,” You say, pocketing your phone and knowing what Miguel’s going to say next.

“No social media use while on duty.”

“Live a little, babe.” You smile, taking your mask off and waving at Webslinger when you spot him dropping off a villain of his own. “Hosting a live while working won’t hurt anybody.”

The Scorpion is taken away by Margo to be sent back home when Miguel speaks again. “It can hurt you.”

“Aw, Miguelito. You do care about me!” You smile at one of his cameras, hand over your heart, as you pass by on your way to his lab. “Anyway, I gotta tell you something. You’re not busy, are you?”

“When has that ever stopped you?” Miguel’s voice gives away the likely eyeroll he’s giving you through one of his glowing orange screens. “You need to file your report anyway.”

“Say, here’s a suggestion,” You start, grinning widely when Miguel’s no comes from both your watch and above you once you’re in his office. Feigning being upset you mutter, “You didn’t let me finish.”

“I’m not filing your report, pulguita.” Miguel says, not looking at you but lowering his platform so you can step on it. As always the yellow and orange glow of the screens bathe him in their light, making it hard not to stare at his handsome features. The bridge of his nose, his bottom lip, the sharp edge of his cheekbones.

“Worth a shot.” You tell him as you stand next to him and sit on a free spot over his desk. Your friend turns slightly towards you, sending an amused look your way before he goes back to typing away on a keyboard. It’s his way of saying go on, so you do.

“Anyway! The mission started off alright, the bastard almost got me –can you believe he wasn’t amused by my jokes? I mean what are odds he has a stinger and he’s fighting someone calling herself the Spider-Sting– whatever, the thing is I had it like 70%–”

“Seventy huh?”

“Hush! 70% under control and this dude shows up out of nowhere, white suit with like gold moons what worked just like boomerangs? He tries to kill my villain!” You throw your hands up in exasperation at the memory.

“Uh-huh, so what did you do? You brought the Scorpion back with you, so you must have won.” Miguel is still looking at whatever he’s messing with on the computer, tsk-ing every time he messes something up. His tone holds something like fondness mixed with pride, it makes your whole body warm.

“So, I had to tell him, I have to take this guy with me, and he goes I can’t let you do that.” You continue, hopping off the desk and walking to Miguel’s other side. When you lean over to look at his face he looks down, eyes meeting yours briefly, waiting for whatever you’re going to say next. “Babe, he sounded just like you! I’m not even joking; I got it on video ‘cause I was live –as you reprimanded me for– but Lyla can tell you!”

“It’s true.” Lyla blinks into existence over Miguel’s shoulder, messing around with her phone for a moment before smiling teasingly at her boss. “He was all: sweetheart, I don’t care if I sound like your boyfriend, and Sting went–”

“What?” Miguel pauses his typing and turns to look at you. “What did he say?”

“I didn’t tell him you’re my boyfriend.” You wave him off, crossing your arms and looking away; your defenses go up immediately. Despite all your teasing and flirting, the last thing you want is for Miguel to find out about your dumb crush on him. Dumb in the sense that he’s never going to feel the same. “He just assumed you were–”

“He called you sweetheart?” Miguel asks, voice low and turning back to his screens.

“Well yeah, I–” You stop yourself short, glancing over at the tall man in front of you and taking in his stance.

Miguel’s hands are clenched into fists on either side of him, his neck muscles tense from whatever he’s feeling. Both his brows are pressed together in the middle of his forehead and his full lips are pulled down in an upset frown. In a moment, your body lights up as hope settles on your chest. Is he?

“Are you jealous?” You ask slowly, dragging out the word as you tilt your head.

“I think he is.” Lyla blinks in front of Miguel’s face, laying on her stomach, chin on her palm.

“Lyla.” Miguel grumbles which causes her to go away, out of mercy you’re sure. “I’m not jealous.”

“Hmm.” You scoot closer to him, letting your hands fall to your sides. Curious to see where this goes, and because you can’t help yourself, you exaggerate the end of your story. “Anyway, he was really flirty, but I distracted him enough that I captured the Scorpion and came back here before he could give me his number.”

“What?” Miguel’s eyes betray his emotions when he meets your gaze. He’s incredulous at your retelling of your adventure, but even more so outraged at your last words. His mouth is still twisted in a sneer, though at what you don’t know.

“What’s the problem? The fact that he called me sweetheart or something else?” You place your hands on your hips, done teasing and very curious. “You call me nicknames all the time.”

“They’re not nicknames.” Miguel tells you before he can stop himself and looks away when he realizes his mistake. “I’m busy. Go file your report.”

“Oh, not nicknames, then what are they?” You don’t back down, rolling your eyes when he turns his back to you. “That’s it you’re going to be annoyed out of jealousy? I flirt with you all the time.”

“That’s different and you know it.” Miguel says turning around, eyes scanning your face and the surprise that you actually got a reaction out of him.

“I don’t think I do. Why is it different?” You don’t back down walking into his space and looking up at him — damn him for being so tall. If he’s going to act like being hit on (which didn’t really happen, bless his heart) is such a problem for him he has to tell you why. For selfish reasons, you hope it’s because he likes you. “Tell me.”

Miguel looks down at you, his eyes boring into yours in a way that makes your next breath stutter. They’re still guarded but less so than before, and the sliver of emotion he lets through when he’s with you, grows the tiniest bit to show hesitation and nerves. The easy smile you were sporting falters, and your lips drop open slightly when you realize how close your faces are. When did Miguel lean so close to you? Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, and you panic.

“Or don’t.” You back down, shaking your head as you wonder if this was a good idea after all. You decide to lie through your nerves. “I’m just teasing you.”

As you begin to turn your face to put some space between you, Miguel’s hand goes up to your cheek to keep your gaze on him. “They’re not nicknames. I’ve been calling you endearments.” He murmurs, voice low as he looks down at you. “Just like you.”

“You mean, you’ve been flirting with me?” You ask breathlessly, your mind trying to compute what the man in front of you —who you never imagined liking you back— is saying. When he nods in an almost reluctant confession, you roll your eyes. “Then that’s the worst flirt—”

You’re cut short by Miguel’s lips pressing onto yours, effectively shutting you up with a world altering brush of lips. Then as if that wasn’t clear enough for you, he murmurs Shut up before leaning in and kissing you again, a real kiss this time. His hand on your cheek goes to the back of your head and your sighs are exchanged into each other’s mouths when they leave you in a rush. You’re surprised to find the same painful yearning you’ve been harboring for months in Miguel. It’s obvious in the way he deepens the kiss, the way he gathers you into his arms and pulls you closer, in the way his tongue tastes your mouth and leaves you dizzy.

“You were jealous then.” You say when you part momentarily, brushing the tip of your nose against Miguel’s.

“Yes.” Miguel confesses begrudgingly, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“A waste of time.” You shake your head fondly, looking at him with a healthy dose of unrestrained adoration and attraction. “The guy assumed you were my boyfriend, and you know why?”

Miguel kisses the corner of your mouth and lingers there like he doesn’t want to part. His affection is hitting your system like a shot of adrenaline to the chest, you feel drunk on it. “Dime.”

“I couldn’t stop talking about you.” You smile, leaning in to kiss him again. “I think half the audience in my live already guessed I like you.”

“Half the society too.” Lyla pops up next to you, holding up a phone and taking a selfie with you. “Some of which are coming to your lab right now, so…”

You take a step back from Miguel, beaming at the conflicted look on his face. “Do you mind if I file my report here? I assume you’re not busy.”

“Wouldn’t matter if I was, princesa.” Is all he says before he pulls up some feed on his computers, getting ready to brief the Spider People on a new mission. You move to sit on the desk next to him, and smile when his hand squeezes your thigh affectionately.

—-

Let me know if you liked this! Reblogs are appreciated 🥹 motivate an unmotivated writer ✨

---

pulguita - ok taken literally it's a flea, but it's an endearment like lovebug for those who are short hence why miguel uses it.

dime - tell me

princesa - princess

—-

#miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x fem!reader

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

Hey!! I’ve spent most of my day catching up on my reading goal for the year, on your blog. I love your writing!! I wanted to know if you could write something poly!marauders where the reader comes home from work early due to chronic pain (winter weather sucks sometimes), and the boys take care of them? Pls add your own spin however you see fit! Hope your day is going well! :)

And happy holidays!

Thanks so much lovely, you're too sweet <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Breathe, angel,” James reminds you, eyeing you worriedly as he sinks into downward dog. “Deep breaths.”

“I’m breathing,” you sigh, following him down. The movement, the stress it puts on your legs and back, aches, but you feel better than you had when you’d come home.

You weren’t expecting James to be here (he typically likes to get out of the house on his days off, too energetic and cabin-fever-prone to stay in) but he hasn’t let you have even a moment of peace since you’d come in the door, unannounced and several hours from the end of your workday. He’d first tried to get you to go on a walk, but the frigid weather outside is what had doomed you in the first place so he’d settled for pulling up a short, low-intensity yoga video on his laptop.

A small part of you resents him for it, just a little. The smarter part of you is grateful.

“Just a bit longer,” James says, likely sensing your growing discontent. “After this we can get you a warm bath. Or a massage, if you like.”

You hum a weary thanks. Either of those sound great, but a nap would be spectacular. You want to evanesce. Sink into a sleep beyond pain.

The serene voice on James’ laptop guides you into a cat-cow pose, but you’re only starting your first cat when you hear the click of the door opening. You turn to James in confusion. He won’t quite look at you.

You recognize the loud clunking sound of Sirius kicking off his shoes a moment before he comes into view.

“Ooh, yoga.” He’s smiling, but there’s a watchful quality to his gaze as he drapes himself across the sofa. “Mind an audience?”

You shoot James an accusatory look. “Why’d you call him?”

“Excuse me,” Sirius says, reclaiming your attention. “Do you not want me here?”

You give up on the yoga, sitting on your mat. “I don’t want you to have to leave work,” you say quietly.

Sirius tsks, sliding off the couch and moving closer to you. “I couldn’t have been productive while I was worried about you anyways. Figured I’d save my boss the money.” His smile slips, a tiny pucker appearing between his brows. “You alright for a hug?”

You answer by opening your arms, and he gathers you up. He doesn’t squeeze the way he normally might, hands careful on your back, but it’s still nice.

“How bad is it?” he asks, turning his face to mush the words lovingly into the side of your head.

“Not bad,” you murmur.

“I’d say it’s pretty bad,” James contends gently, “if you had to come home from work.”

You turn your head to look at him, offering a sheepish shrug. “The yoga helped some.”

James’ smile is lopsided, eyes flickering with relief behind his glasses. Sirius isn’t so easily convinced, loosening his grip on you so he can see your face. Despite how used to it you should be, it’s still an effort not to shrink under that gaze. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, if he finds it or he doesn’t, but a few moments later Sirius’ hands slide up to your face. He kisses the skin next to your nose lightly.

“Let me make you some tea, sweet girl,” he says, standing. “You’ve had pain meds already, yeah?”

You hum that you have, and James says after him, “Not the chamomile, it’ll just make her sleepy.”

You try not to sulk as Sirius calls back, “I’m not new here, Potter.”

James is trying to get you back into the yoga when the door opens a second time. If you hadn’t gotten there by process of elimination, the soft, considerate footfalls would have let you know who it was.

“Oh, hi,” Remus says when he finds you and James already waiting for him. Pity softens his expression as his eyes fall on you. “How are you, dove? Is the yoga helping?”

“It was,” James grouses, though his little smile lets you both know he’s only teasing. He extends his arms out in front of him, beckoning with his hands. “Come here, give us a hug. She got to go first last time.”

Remus doesn’t put up any argument. James stands as he comes forward, weaving one arm over Remus’ shoulders and the other under.

“I am ailing,” you point out. When Remus angles his head on James’ shoulder to give you a concerned look, you add softly, “Not terribly, though.”

Remus chuckles, pushing a spindly hand slowly up and down James’ spine. The other cups the back of his boyfriend’s head, sinking into his plush nap of curls. “I think you’ve worried him down to the bone,” he observes.

There’s a noncommittal hum, followed by a muffled smacking sound as James kisses Remus’ shoulder.

“Have you considered that I’m just soaking up all the hug I can get?”

“Nefarious,” Remus murmurs lovingly.

“I leave the room for two seconds, and of course a lovefest commences.” Sirius strides in with a steaming cup of tea. “It should be outlawed. I feel swindled and scorned.”

“You got to go first,” James argues, but Remus extricates himself from his hold anyway, folding a leg under himself to sit on the couch.

“Irrelevant.” Sirius sets your tea down on the coffee tables, using his free hand to wave James off. “Do either of you want tea?”

“No thank you,” Remus says while James shakes his head. “You didn’t give her chamomile, did you? Because that will only—”

“No,” you all say, you rather mopily.

You scoot towards the table and reach for your tea. Sirius settles into the couch, leaning his back against Remus’ side.

“Alright,” James relents, shutting his laptop, “we can call it quits on the yoga. We were basically at the end of the video anyway.” His big hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Want one of us to get a bath ready for you, lovie?”

A whole new ache starts up, right in the center of your chest. You set your tea back on the coffee table, too hot to drink, and lean your head on James’ shoulder. Your throat clogs slightly. So, so sweet to you. A bath does sound nice, but you’re not sure you can commit to it. That’s at least a half hour between you and sleep.

“Thank you,” you say, making sure he hears the sincerity in the words, “but I think I just want to go to bed.”

James’ sigh is so soft you think you’re not meant to hear it. “It’s a bit early for that yet,” he says, thumb swiping back and forth on your shoulder. “How about a massage?”

“I’m tired,” you complain, and you try not to whine but a bit of it comes through anyway.

“I know, love,” Remus says, leaning his elbows onto his knees so that his face is nearly level with yours, “but if you nap now you won’t be able to sleep tonight, and then you’ll be tired all over again tomorrow.” He reaches across the coffee table, the tips of his fingers brushing yours. “This is to help you, I promise.”

You let your little sigh fan cool air over your tea, raising it again to your lips as you nod.

“Go for the massage,” Sirius says. He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning like he’s letting you in on some sort of secret. “Trust me, babe. Jamie missed his calling with that one. Hands of an angel.”

You look over, and James is grinning so hugely you wonder if his ears pop. “Alright, fine.” He shrugs, feigning reluctance. “After I’m done with her, you can have next turn.”

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anisdolly · 4 months

Text

・。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ quiet now, will you?

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀STRICTLY 18+.

WARNINGS: bratfem!reader x dom!modernau!anakin, dirty talking, teasing, clit play, he likes to command just a bit too much.

summary: anakin is taking you home after picking you up from your shift, and of course he is hungry as fuck. just...you're feeling bratty.

・。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

“h-hey!” you lament, hands quickly folding together to push the fabric of your sweater between your legs. the little fist they created stays there, pressed right between a drenched cunt, his hand and your thighs—a vain, and rather pathetic, attempt to stop your boyfriend from getting what he was craving. “h-hand away!”

it had been already a long day at work—your boss making you run from one office to the other just because her spoiled daughter wanted to read a book that wasn’t even fucking released yet. last thing you need, was anakin all over your pussy, and his car’s seat dirty. maybe you should’ve thought twice before shoving yourself into more comfortable clothes—a thick sweater that worked more as a short, barely covering dress—and keep your tailleur instead.

anakin just watches you squirm and use your only cloth as a barrier, his blue eyes gleaming with wicked delight before a low chuckle escapes his lips. his hand, determined in feeling more, comes to rest atop the hoodie mound you just created after abruptly pushing yours away, pressing down against the fabric just enough to feel the warmth and dampness underneath.

"'hand away'…" he teases mockingly, his voice resonating with that deep sound that is exclusively his. "think you got the power to make demands, princess? after i haven’t seen you for an entire day?" a playful, yet starved edge lines his words with a smirk. his fingers begin to move in a slow, deliberate circle over the hoodie, not enough to touch directly, but the implication is there—a reminder of the control he holds over your pretty body.

it gets you writhing and panting instantly, and as you wrap your hand around his wrist to try and move him away, the pressure only gets more insistent. so much, that what sounds like a tiny moan flips out of your mouth. you really thought you had the strength to push him away? tsk.

“a-ani…c-c’mon…” you cry, but your hips were betraying you by basically humping against his hand.

he simply scoffs at your pitiful wail, enjoying the friction of your core over his digits. “never this drenched. not even when i cum all over it.”

the car's engine hums and thrums to life as anakin lets his hand linger over your hidden cunt, driving you insane with the need for more in only seconds. yet, he never really gives you what you need. you were always so fucking perfect with your innocent blush and eager body—he loves how you respond to him so quickly, despite your best efforts. even if, at times, he has to push you a bit more. but it’s alright, because your pussy always spoke louder than your useless words.

anakin’s other hand grips the shifter, his knuckles white as he pulls it into reverse, his gaze finally breaking away from you to check the mirrors. his actions dual; driving the car while driving you mad, and it was an easy combination to him. probably it became a skill after all the other times he fingered you in that passenger seat, making you cum more than one time in less than six miles.

and even as he pulls out of the parking spot, he keeps his eyes on the task while his body did not—his driving smooth and practiced, while his fingers softly toy with you.

"quiet now, angel." he murmurs, licking his lips in what seems a concentrated—yet unbothered—expression. “don’t wanna be pulled over by cops while i milk my fingers, right?”

the car backs out from the parking lot and, as he finds the way to the road home, the vibrations of the moving vehicle add an entirely new layer to the torture you are already being put under. your doe eyes look like more interested in the movements of his fingertips rather than the road ahead, and your hole clutches around nothing.

and then, anakin found your clit even through all those layers of fabric, pushing a full-on moan out of your lungs. how the hell does he manage that? every fucking time?

“b-babe…please—” you grit out while your body heat increases more and more, and your soaked panties practically damp the sweater too.

"hey. told ya, quiet.” anakin commands again, this time way sterner than before. “if you can stay silent and good, maybe—maybe—you’ll get the reward you’re dripping for. but make even a little noise, and i’ll leave you wantin’ and aching all the damn way back."

his hand presses a little harder before pulling away completely, making you tremble at the loss, before it reaches for the gear shift to help drive on the dark street. "so…let’s see how good my little princess can really be, hm?"

your lover could feel the stickiness on his fingertips, highlighting his hunger. god, he could still taste the sweetness of your pussy from the previous night, and the scent of your arousal is the car made his pupils dilate. but there’s nothing more easy for anakin than to have self control when it comes to teasing you. so he stays in his seat, driving carelessly, as if his index and middle didn’t just turn you into a heated whore.

but tonight, you are having none of it. who does he think he is? making fun of you like that? after you had one of the most stressful days of the week at work, and even told him? hell the fuck no. just like he started, he was gonna make you finish.

“mmhm! no!” you huff out, your hands clutching the excessively long sleeves of your sweater before smacking right onto your thighs in frustration. “p-put it back there!” the pout on your face mixes with what seems a frown—this was a stance that you never dared to take before, but that now came automatically at his carefree demeanor and actions.

“now.”

whiny brat.

at your defiance, anakin’s sharp jaw clenches tightly and almost immediately. a surge of possessiveness tightens around his heart like a vice, the call to put you back in your damn place taking over any restraint he had been putting onto his own emotions. that sudden insistence in your voice makes him laugh dryly, simply not to reach out and pull your hair like you fucking deserved.

"ahhh, what did i say about zipping it?" his voice is a lethal purr, and his eyes, blue like shards of ice, caught yours in the review mirror. "seems someone’s already beggin’ for punishment." and as he continues to navigate the deserted streets, the silence of the night around you feels almost like an accomplice to whatever was about to happen inside that poor range rover.

but still, you don’t relent, staring right back into his eyes as your lids turn into two thin lines. “i’m not.” you respond, fists tightening even more with rage.

anakin drums his fingers on the steering wheel, the rhythmic tapping sending a message of impatience as he considers your outburst with a sickening silence. with a quick glance to ensure the road is empty, he slows the car, almost to a crawl. the sudden braking gets you to jerk forward, but thankfully the seatbelt prevents you from hitting your head. it makes you yelp, though, and your eyes squeeze.

"you want it there, right? is that how you ask for something, you snappy brat?” he almost barks at you, noticing how your expression is a mixture of defiance and surprise before snapping his eyes fully back towards the road.

and then, anakin reaches over with a masterful slowness, allowing the back of his knuckles to graze across the swell of your breast through the sweater, then down your stomach, before hovering just millimeters away from your needy, aching pussy. “touch this?” the scent emanating from there is still so strong, the window couldn't air it out.

“y-yeah…” you gulp, following the path of his hand with your trembling eyes, while thinking that your little tantrum did the thing. but the next words he speaks get that smug and aroused expression off of your face just as quickly as it came.

"want me to touch your pathetic cunt? funny. you break the rules, sweet girl, you get nothin'." his voice is firm yet threaded with a dark desire. "you keep being this disobedient...hmmph, i might just have to spank that pretty ass of yours until you remember who's in charge here.” then, just as abruptly, he shifts his hand away, up to the damn shift again.

now, you think twice before humming a lament. last time he slapped your ass, you were barely able to sit.

"but if you’re good—and i mean real good—you’ll get what's coming to you. i’ll fuck your worthless hole until you're screamin', breed you until you can't think...all those dirty things you like."

“i-i’m not being—” but you don’t even manage to finish your phrase as anakin makes a hard turn, taking the rover to a more secluded area—a field just by the street, apparently empty. your nails claw at each side of your seat, trying to keep you steady, and that belt helps you once again.

he told you to be fucking quiet, why you still speaking?

the headlights illuminated the open space as he pulls over, then switches off the engine, and turns in his seat to face you properly. "fucking crybaby." anakin sneered, glaring your startled body up and down. "listen up. you've got one chance to show me how good you can be for daddy. are you gonna take it, or do i have to remind you just how hard i can make that little pussy beg for me?"

#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #star wars #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin imagine #anakin #anakin skywalker x you #anakin smut #anakin x you #star wars anakin #anakin x y/n #anakin x reader #anakin x fem reader #anakin x oc #anakin skywalker x female reader #fanfic #anakin skywalker smut

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gglitch1dd · 2 months

Note

Ochako!COME ON GIRL! WHAT ABOUT GIRL CODE?! :(

I imagine the reader talking to her and be like: "I DON'T WISH YOU TO SET A FOOT ON MY HOUSE, or else I'll ruin you and your reputation..." the reader hisses.

"He will never leave me because he has his priorities, and these priorities are his sons; you are just a warm cunt" and reader leaves like a boss and Ochako is standing there like: 🧍🏼‍♀️

Warning: Infidelity, sidechics.

I like the way you think honey! However, reader is better than Ochaco. She knows who she is and she knows the level she's at. If she ever did see Ochaco around I think it would go like this:

You stood watching Izuku as he talked to the Prime Minister, he was laughing with other high ranking government officials. You held a glass of champagne, dressed in white, gold and green, the colours of your husband's family name.

You heard the clacking of shoes as someone came to stand next to you. She gave you a fake smile, one that you had believed time and time again before you found out about your husband's infidelity. "Y/N. Evening."

You gave her a fake smile. "Ochaco." That was all you gave her as you turned back to look at Izuku. It was easy to identify him by the fact that the two of you always wore matching colours at events.

Ochaco sipped on her champagne, dressed in a pink and white dress, but you noticed emerald earings in her ears. You let out a silent tsk. Shameless. "Has Izuku been busy lately?" She asked you.

"Why do you ask?"

She hesitated before shrugging. "I heard from his PA that he's been taking on less work and we agreed to meet up to solve a case but he hasn't gotten back to me." She told you.

You glanced at her before looking back at Izuku. You let out a sigh. "My husband is focused on his priorities at the moment, so if he says he's busy, I advise you heed his words." You advise her.

Ochaco glanced at you with dark brown eyes. Her smile turned tense as she let out a low chuckle. "Izuku, is-"

"I'd like to remind you, Ochaco that he is my husband." You remind her with a glare of your eyes. "And you should mind the way you address him, especially since he is your superior."

She let out an offended scoff as she turned to look at you. "And I would like to remind you that I've known Izuku since we were sixteen."

"And isn't that so wonderful for you." You smiled tensely. You took a step closer to her as you kept your smile up for appearances but your eyes said anything but. Ochaco flinched as she looked at you, your eyes cold and empty as you stared at her. "The next time you sleep with my husband, I'd like you to remember a few things." You whispered making her eyes grow wide at your words. "I am the Number One Hero's wife. I am the woman he married and the woman he impregnated. I am the one who gave him five sons that are his world. So when you're lying with your legs opened, remember that he would never leave me for you." You stepped back as you placed your champagne glass on a passing waiters tray. You turned back forward. "Just a reminder."

Izuku walked over to the both of you, but his eyes stayed on you. "There you are." He smiled as you looked up at him. He placed a kiss on your forehead as you held onto his forearm. You grinned up at him, keeping up the appearance of his perfect little wife. "Ready to leave?"

You stepped forward as you leaned against his shoulder, him taking you away. You nodded. "Very." You stated as you walked with him away from Ochaco.

-Glitch1d

#mha x y/n #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #dilf midoriya #dilf deku #mha deku #mha izuku midoriya #bnha #izuku midoriya x reader angst #midoriya izuku angst

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kyopmi · 2 years

Text

arguably, sakusa kiyoomi's worst habit is tsk-ing at any slight inconvenience.

when he thinks the team is being too rowdy at 7am in the morning. when he sees someone sneeze without covering the lower half of their face. when the pedestrian traffic light turns red right as he's about to cross.

he thinks he picked it up from his mother, from when she used to click her tongue disapprovingly whenever he comes home late after playing in the neighborhood with komori, or when he returns from volleyball practice with a noticeable bruise on his pale skin. most of the time, there's no lingering malice behind it – it's just something he's so used to doing and he fails to catch himself before he even realizes he's doing it.

in fact, the opposite is true when it comes to you.

he tsks at you when he sees you on your phone at ungodly hours of the night, snatching up your phone and pulling you to bed so he can snuggle you to sleep.

he tsks at you when he gets a text from you saying you missed breakfast because you had overslept, opening up the food delivery app on his phone to order a proper meal for you.

he tsks at you when he sees you scampering over to his parked car from your workplace much later than you should be, silently cursing your boss for assigning you with an extra shift and taking away his precious y/n time.

he tsks at you when he notices your stress taking a toll on you physically and mentally, pulling you away from the cold world and into his warm arms, if only for a moment, letting your tear stain the front of his t-shirt and holding you tight against him for as long as you need.

sakusa is aware he's never been good with words, choosing instead to show you what he can't put into words. yet despite the feigned annoyance behind the clicking of his tongue, you know his tsks have become a love language of their own, reserved specially for you.

take care of yourself. you deserve the world. i love you.

#omi youre so dramatic but ily anyway #<- is it time to bring back this tag? experts say yes #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #hq x reader #hq x you #&works

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rafedaddy01 · 5 months

Text

Summary: Rafes pov. Your his bestfriend little sister who he’s madly in love with but he can’t risk his friendship so he fucks you in quiet. (Usually on his desk)

Warnings: smut, fingering, male masterbation, language

A/n: comments and reblogs are much appreciated! Thank you all for you support, we are almost at 1000 followers!! I couldn’t have done it without all of you! Let me know what you want to read more of ❤️

Of course we’d end up in this position we always do. Her sprawled out on my desk as I finger fuck her. But this is wrong. So wrong. She’s my bestfriends little sister, and topper would fucking kill me if he found out. But she’s so much more than just a good fuck, I love her, she just doesn’t know it. Nor will she ever, she can’t. I fuck her tight pussy with my fingers, curving them just the way she likes, hitting that spongey spot that makes her go wild. Her nails claw at my desk, leaving scratch marks. But I don’t care. As long as I get to pleasure her and hear her sweet, sweet moans.

“Rafe!” She moans and I have to clamp her mouth shut.

“Shhh, can’t let everyone in the office know what a dirty, dirty girl you are. Letting your boss finger you while your cum seeps all over his paperwork? Tsk, tsk” I move my finger faster and watch as the pleasure makes her pupils widen. I love her like this. Her pussy tightens around my fingers and she finally legs go. Coating my whole hand in her cum. I slowly pump before pulling out and fisting my hard cock with her cum drenching my hand.

“What are you doing” she asks as she watches me jerk off with her juices. I throw my head back and let a low groan rumble through my chest before my cum spurts all over her glistening pussy.

Taglist:

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing

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ddejavvu · 10 months

Note

I’ve never sent one of these before so I apologise if this is silly. But Imagine hotch is scrolling through readers instagram and derek catches him. He’s all embarrassed denying that it meant anything meanwhile derek is literally taunting him about his crush.

i used fem!reader for this just bc you didn't specify so i hope that's okay! this prompt was so good <33

The way that Hotch is bent over his knees, Derek thinks that he's crying. Which is a shocking sight for him, but not unheard of. He beelines for his boss but instead of glistening tears he finds the glow of a lit screen, stopping short before Hotch is able to see Morgan out of the corner of his eye.

Morgan thinks he's actually more surprised that Hotch is hunched over his phone than he would have been if he was crying. Crying is just something that happens when you have too much sadness welling up inside of you, and Morgan knows Hotch has a lifetime of sadness pent up and ready to blow. What's strange is that he's on Instagram, his posture is shitty and he's indulging in social media like a normal person; like someone who isn't Aaron Hotchner would.

Derek isn't about to interrupt the only time he's ever seen Hotch relax, but before he can turn away, his boss's thumb clicks on a picture in the grid he'd been scrolling through. Morgan quickly realizes that what he'd thought was the Explore page was actually someone's profile, a woman- a pretty woman, and he watches Hotch peruse the six photos you'd uploaded to the set.

Morgan's never seen you before, but he commits your username to memory, hellbent on finding your profile, then giving your name to Garcia for a full deep dive. He wants to know who you are, how Hotch knows you, if you're single and ready to mingle with his seemingly-unmingle-able boss.

Hotch lingers for just a second longer on the photo of you in a bathing suit than the ones where you're posing beside your friends in matching sundresses; really, Derek might be imaging that. But it's all he needs to finally reveal himself, clapping a firm hand down onto Hotch's shoulder.

"My man," He grins, squeezing Hotch's tense muscles when the man startles for the first time in his life. Nothing ever catches Hotch off guard, but now he's fumbling to lock his phone and struggle out of his seat so that Derek isn't looming over him.

"What do you need, Morgan?" Hotch addresses his subordinate with a tight frown on his face, swallowing so that his Adam's apple bobs.

"I need to know whether to set an extra place next to you for dinner at my place this weekend," Derek pries, "Is she coming?"

"She is not coming to dinner this weekend," Aaron snaps, frown somehow deepening, "She's none of your business."

"That's no fun," Morgan tsks, "Come on, Hotch, you can tell me! Where'd you meet her, what's her name? She's cute, I see why you like her. 'Seems fun, too, she'll fit right in."

"We're not involved with each other," Hotch insists, but Derek can see his face being slowly seized by a pink flush, "I got distracted on my phone, that's all."

"Yeah, distracted by that bikini," Derek snorts, and for a moment he genuinely thinks Hotch might lunge for him.

"That's inappropriate," Aaron glares Morgan's way, fists clenched by his side.

"Alright, alright, stand down," Morgan puts a hand up to placate his boss, "I was just trying to get a rise out of you, Hotch. Y'know, what friends do? We're friends, man, you can tell me if you're interested in someone."

"In this office I'm your boss," Hotch reminds him sternly, though his stiff posture has weakened slightly, worn down by Derek's earnest appeal, "Social matters have no place here."

"Women don't like men with sticks up their asses," Morgan drawls, mentally repeating your username so that he doesn't forget it before he can dig up information on you. He turns to the door of the conference room he'd caught Hotch lingering in, headed back to his desk, "I suggest you sort that out if you ever wanna get with her, Hotch. And if you need help doing that, you know where to find me."

He takes his leave, he knows his place, but Hotch calls for him just before he can let go of the door: "Morgan."

At Derek's curious glance back at him, "Thank you. This stays between us."

Morgan hopes Hotch takes his acknowledgement as agreement, because he's not going to make a promise to his boss that he won't keep. Derek bites back a grin as he beelines for Garcia's office, no it won't.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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vixialuvs · 15 days

Note

yeonjun, taehyun x reader established poly relationship please! daddy kink and they call reader princess and/or baby. maybe scenario is reader getting back home to the throuple's apartment from her 9-5 office job, and she had a bad day and really really tired, so taejun comforts and spoils her. you can add any kinks! 🤭♡

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ OFF TO THE RACES ! ⋄ 𓍯

୨୧ pairing. taejun x afab!reader

୨୧ genre. comfort/smut.

୨୧ cw. soft!dom taejun, sub reader, daddy kink, established relationship, poly, face sitting, kissing, unprotected sex, praise

YOU REALLY HATED YOUR JOB. it is simply hours on end of doing the most tedious jobs for your extremely harsh boss, who hates your guts. the only thing you look forward to at the end of the day is going home to your lovely boyfriends, who spoil you like their lives depend on it.

today, in particular, has been extra demanding and strenuous. your boss has yelled at you at least 3 times for the tiniest things, and customers have been complaining all day over stupid stuff, which has made your bubbly personality and social battery wear out for the day.

when you finally get home, later then usual because your boss made you work overtime, you come home to taehyun cooking in the kitchen and yeonjun on the couch, on his phone. they both turn to look at you, their smiles becoming wide and evident, but faltering a little when they see how worn-out you look.

“welcome home, princess.” taehyun says from the kitchen, stirring around a pot of your favorite food. “i’m making your favorite. it’s almost done, okay?”

you nod weakly, allowing yourself to be engulfed in yeonjuns arms. you didn’t even realize that he was coming over to you, you’re too sleepy. you can feel his lips press against your head.

“what’s wrong baby? hard day?”

yeonjun gently talks in your ear, lifting you up in his arms to carry you over to the couch where he then places you on his lap. taehyun also comes over, having finished cooking the food, sitting beside the two of you and pulling your legs over his lap.

you nod softly, your voice coming out in a little tiny mumble.

“yeah.. everyone was s’ mean to me today..”

you speak with a pout, causing the boys to crack a small amused smile, hands coming to pull you closer to them.

taehyun rubs his hands over your thighs, covered in the prettiest pink thigh highs, while yeonjun ties your hair up gently for you and kisses the shell of your earlobe. you don’t see, but him and taehyun share a look of silent agreement on something.

“awe, we’re sorry princess. how about we help you feel better, hm?”

taehyun coos, his hand starting to travel up to play with the edge of your skirt. you whine softly and nod, but then hear yeonjun tsk in your ear softly.

“words baby. let us hear you..” he murmurs, beginning to play with your clothes.

“y-yes, please.. wanna feel better..” you whimper bashfully, beginning to tremble on his lap.

that’s all that the boys need to hear before their strong arms are lifting you up and carrying you into the bedroom. they set you down on your back so carefully, placing your head on a pillow.

taehyun leans down to connect your lips, meanwhile yeonjun is busying himself with getting rid of your pesky clothes. the boys lift you so that your sitting on your back legs.

yeonjun has already pulled off every single item of clothing, leaving you and him bare. you pull at taehyun shirt mindlessly, trying to take it off of him. he obliges and pulls it off, letting you run your hands all over his abs.

he lifts you up so yeonjun can slide underneath you, right below your pretty cunt. yeonjun groans at the sight, his eyes rolling back slightly at the aroma of your heavenly juices.

“fuck, princess, you look so pretty like this. gonna eat your cute cunt out, just fuck yourself on daddy’s face, okay?”

he latches his lips on your clit, making you let out a shaky whimper as taehyun kisses you again. the only thing you can hear is the wet sounds of yeonjun devouring your pussy.

“daddy!” you whimper against tyuns lips, pulling at yeonjuns hair and bucking your hips along with the rhythm of his licks, falling apart on his mouth.

“come on baby, daddys got you. shh. that’s it sweetheart, just let go.”

taehyuns raspy voice only turns you on further, and the feeling of his lips on your neck pushes you over the edge.

you cum all over yeonjuns face, whimpering loudly for them as they help you through your high. yeonjun suckles on your clit like a starved man, rubbing at your soft thighs and kissing your folds relentlessly.

taehyun pulls your weak body off of his face and gently sits you on yeonjuns lap at the edge of the bed, before getting down onto his knees infront of you two.

“wanna taste this pretty pussy, baby. will you let daddy?”

he kisses your thigh, growling softly as yeonjuns tip nudges your entrance.

“yes daddy, please.. you guys make me feel so good..”

you mewl lewdly, back arching up into juns touch as he pulls you down onto his cock. you look down to see tyun licking up and down his cock and your clit as yeonjun plunges inside of you repeatedly, moaning into your shoulder as he kisses it.

taehyun moans against your cunt as you tug on his hair, sounds of pleasure spilling out of your lips as yeonjun splits you open on his cock.

“fuck, gonna cum in this pussy baby. gonna let me? let daddy fill your cunt with his cum?”

yeonjun babbles into your ear, groaning as he fucks you faster and faster, close to his release. you nod dumbly, eyes rolling back in your head as you let out the sluttiest noises.

“please cum inside daddy, need you!”

you wail, looking down to see taehyun simultaneously jerking off while he eats you out, the sight making you paint yeonjuns cock white. your walls squeezing him is too much for him and he cums all over your pussy, mixing your cum together.

taehyun has also came, making a white mess all over the floor as he nurses the two of you through your orgasms.

you can feel strong arms pulling you off of yeonjuns cock and cleaning you up, before being laid down on the bed in the two boys embrace, where you almost instantly knock out into a deep sleep.

maybe hard work does pay off sometimes.

@vixialuvs ‘24. likes and reblogs appreciated !

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jujutsukatsuki · 2 months

Note

i’ve been waiting to see someone write thissss! (i think ur taking requests??)

the scene when alastor threatens husk!

the idea is reader (gn!) is there to comfort husk but he brushes them off, kinda like a hurt/comfort thing!

Okay I'm a little rusty but i got this! i wanted to do this as a Alastor x Reader but Reader is friends with Husker! I would like to add that I DO NOT SUPPORT VIV OR THEIR ACTIONS!

"This whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into Heaven..." Charlie rambles on to her estranged father Lucifer, Vaggie follows on the other side of the short demon king and the princess of Hell. You followed behind them with Alastor, tall dark and creepy as he had been described by Mimzy moments before the group walked down the hallway.

"Hey Boss... can i have a word?" Alastor turns his head before his body, you hate when he does that, the sickling crack his neck makes. You turn to face the gambling demon cat, also known as your best friend in the hotel. You loved Husk, he was everything to you. "what is it?" Alastor's sickling smile never faulters, you're convinced he'd never drop the smile for people who weren't you. He was always sweet on you, even if on the outside it didn't look like he was. "You and i both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin'. That bitch is trouble and who knows what kinda demon she fucked with to come running to you this time?" Alastor smirks and leans in towards the furball, you chew your lip, ready to jump between the two something you've done a few times before. "Its nothing i cant handle, don't worry Husker!" Alastor turns, arms crossed behind his back with his cane in hand, you look between Husk and Alastor. Husk looks angry that Alastor isn't listening. Husk looks to you and gives you an almost pleading look. If anyone could reason with the radio demon, it would be you. "Who in their right mind would cross me?" Alastor lets out a small hum as he starts to walk away. "I mean... you've been gone a while and its not like anybody knows why." "They don't need to know, and don't you worry your fuzzy head about it!" Alastor turns and pets husk on the head, something he absolutely hates. Husk lets out a loud growl as him and Alastor are nose to nose. The next few moments are a blur to you once husk mentions Alastor's metaphorical leash. The lights flicker, the room glitches with Alastor's power, your skin runs cold and you see the green leash snap around Husk's neck as he's thrown to the floor. "enough!" You yell, your hair standing on edge, eyes staring daggers into Alastor, your eye twitches with annoyance as you grab Alastor's arm and rip him away from Husk. "Now now sweet-" Alastor tries to calm you down, husk is shaking on the floor from the encounter. "No! This is enough Alastor, go find Charlie and Lucifer. Now!" You snap and point to where the group had gone. You never snapped at him, never even raised your voice. But right now, there was smoke coming out of your ears with how upset you were. Angry tears threatening to spill as you hold your stance. The green leash fades away and Alastor marches off without another word. "You okay?" You help Husk up who shakes you off with a tsk. "I don't need your pity, I'm fine." Husk grumbles and retreats to the bar downstairs. "Husk, please." You try and catch up with him. "What!" He turns and snaps.

"I don't need you playing the role of my parent! i can take care of myself, that's all ill ever need. Myself and what ever alcohol i can get my hands on." His voice is heavy, you know this is his mask. The one he puts on when something really bothers him and doesn't want to talk about it. You pull him into a hug and gently rub his back, you can feel his body tense, his wings are stiff before he slowly relaxes under your touch, his wings gently folding around the two of you. "I know Husker." You say gently, fingers combing his fur. "But I'm always here, you don't have to do it all on your own. I got you too. Family and losers and what not." You hum as the two of you pull away. "Yeah yeah, whatever you say." Husk smirks as he waves his hand, you know he understands what you're saying and what you mean is true, but the little bit of ego he had left doesn't let him fully show it. You and Husk reach the bar just as the building starts to shake due to some loan sharks trying to get in to look for Mimzy. The building catches fire, as they throw some Molotov cocktails through the windows. You gasp as you see some of the glass coming for you but i certain red demon pulls you from harms way. "I suppose i need to remind everyone why I'm here!" Alastor grins as he goes into his demon mode, you close your eyes, you hate seeing him in his giant demon mode. Once he's outside, you start helping Husk clean the building up.

"Darling, you alright?" Alastor comes back in to check on you

"Peachy." You snarl, still upset about earlier. Now even more upset due to Mimzy and her drama hurting the one place you loved.

Alastor straightens his suit before he forces Mimzy to leave, seeing as she was hurting the hotel and his beloved. You ignore the conversation as you sweep up glass. You feel a certain hand on your shoulder, you turn to look at Husk.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have made that comment. Don't let me get between the two of you." "I just don't like how he treats you." "Its okay, its my deal to take care of, not yours."

You let out a deflated sigh before turning to see Alastor who was waving around his cane to start fixing the hotel once again.

"Ali-" You say softly using the nickname he adored, it was simple but sounded amazing rolling off your lips.

"Yes darling?" He cuts you off as he grabs your hand and pulls you into him. You cant help but smile gently before grabbing his bowtie and yanking him down to be face to face with you.

"You ever hurt my Husky like that and i will make sure its your screams broadcasting on the radio. Understood?" You hiss and stare in his red eyes.

"Yes beloved." He nodded.

"Good." You nod back before going back to continuing to clean up the hotel lobby.

Sure life in the hotel wasn't the best, but it was your life none the less.

i hope this was good! its been a while since i wrote something!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel drabble #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #alastor x yn #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor x y/n #requests open #reader insert

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phoenixblaze1412 · 2 months

Note

Im obsessed with jealous Dottore scenarios...

Can u write a oneshot where Krupp starts trying to flirt with Reader (who is just looking at him with a blank expression like "huh") and then Webttore sees it and gets so angy... staring daggers into Krupp and plotting his death as he SPEEDWALKS OVER THERE to deal with him...

PLS..... im insanr... - 🐓

Very well!^^

You were only doing your tasks in the laboratory until your co-worker Krupp started talking to you.

"How about you and I have dinner after work?"

"Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are? They are simply stunning!"

You could only stare at the man with a confused expression. You don't know if Krupp is currently drunk or have drank something terrible that caused him to act like this. Nonetheless, you ignored your fellow scientist and continued with the task Dottore has assigned for you. But alas, Krupp just won't stop leaving you alone until he gets your approval to go on a date with him, to which you kept declining.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Dottore was watching the whole thing unfold in front of him. Him glaring daggers behind his assistant's back, a frown evident on his face as Krupp kept complimenting you and your talents. He would've just let the man be if he was flirting with other people but you? Oh, no, no, no. That made his blood boil. Finally at his limits, he set down the equipments he was holding and marched his way towards you and that incompetent Krupp.

You let out a huff as you tried to hide yourself among the various test tubes and beakers just to avoid your annoying co-worker. To be honest, you'd rather be alone in a room with Lord Dottore himself than be in the same presence with Krupp. How the man keeps yapping just makes you want to rip off that ugly moustache of his. Luckily for you, your savior walked over in all his menacing glory.

"So, the offer still stands. I'd like to take you out on a date--"

Before Krupp could even finish his sentence, he was immediately grabbed by the shoulder and forced to turn and face his own boss.

"Instead of taking her out, how about you get back to work, Krupp. Your gibberish nonsense is not needed here in the workplace. If I ever see you talking to her again, I will hang you by the throat, gut out your insides and leave you in the dungeons to rot among the rats. So do kindly leave her alone. Got that?"

Oh, if only you could see how frightened Krupp was after Dottore had threatened him. How Dottore gave him his most malicious grin that already shows how he will not hesitate to kill him on the spot.

"Y-yes sir!-"

The Doctor simply threw Krupp to the side before glaring down at him. Krupp immediately got up to his feet before running off to do his tasks, never to speak to you again. You could only smile in relief now that there's no annoying co-worker forcing you to go have dinner with.

"What's with that smile, hm?"

"It's nothing, Lord Dottore. Thank you for making Krupp leave me alone. He doesn't know that I'm already taken, it seems."

"Tsk. I'll come up with something that will make everyone know you belong to me then. Now enough of that smiling already. Get back to work."

"Will do, Lord Dottore."

You watched as the harbinger sauntered off before going back to your tasks. Oh, how you find it adorable when your partner becomes so aggressive towards any person that tries to ask you out.

What you didn't see was how Dottore was already fuming red after seeing you smile at him. He's annoyed at himself for easily melting at a simple smile that you give before quickly shaking his head and walking back to his station to finish his work.

Making a mental note to himself to make sure to mark you with hickeys and love bites later on once he has you all to himself alone in the privacy of the bedroom...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore #female reader #gender neutral reader #il dottore x reader

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richea · 2 months

Text

Inomata’s Design Notes & Memories - Destiny Cast

Some notes:

I’ve linked images of each thing she references below.

Unlike the first batch of Eternia characters I previously posted, these were in Japanese. And unlike the Destiny 2 ones I translated, she talks about her experiences with the characters in the game and not just her design processes!

The book in question is this one.

What I think about most when designing characters is their colors and the components to their look. The characters are displayed as such small sprites, so in order to be able to differentiate them from each other, I give each of them a specific color palette and unique accessories to each of their outfits.

Stahn’s thing was his scarf. I also made sure his shoulder pads, gloves, and boots looked huge.

Rutee is supposed to be a thief, so I made her look a bit like a ninja. I didn’t want her to look too girly, so I gave her shorts and exposed her navel. For colors I went with red and black, since that’s a distinctive palette. Whenever I’d do boss battles, she’d always be joyfully picking 2 gald off the ground instead of healing my very low HP characters (laughs). I thought about removing her from my party to prevent this, but then I’d feel bad, and it just made me think “this is all part of her plot” (laughs).

Philia is a priestess through and through. I went for white and green to give her an earthly feel (laughs). Her glasses and braids were a strong request from Namco. I came up with designs for her, but they didn’t have the glasses or braids, so they were repurposed for the priests in Straylize Temple. It was the basis for Philia’s design as well as Elraine’s in the sequel. Philia has her eye on Stahn, but he eats too much and he oversleeps. I feel like they’d work out better if Philia was more the assertive type herself (laughs).

Woodrow is an archetypical handsome man, so I didn’t have much to stress about when designing him. He’s a king, so I wished he had a stronger atmosphere behind him. I almost never used him when playing the game though (laughs). When you break into Dycroft, I thought, “it’d be really cool in a narrative sense to use him here, but he’s just so weak”. But you get special dialogue if you take him along, so I went “tsk” and brought him anyway. “Just stick to the backlines and don’t die” (laughs).

Leon’s really easy to draw, so again I didn’t have much to stress about when drawing him. He has a princely vibe to him, so I gave him white tights, but everyone was taken back by it! I thought, “is it that weird?” and ended up making them less tight fitting (laughs). He acts a bit snobbish, gets seasick easily and refuses to eat vegetables, so he really crosses off a lot on the “young master” list. He’s also really fun to use in battle (laughs). He has a really low defense stat but he hits fast, so it’s crucial that you string your combos together. When paired with Stahn, if you can isolate your bosses in the far side of the screen, they go down quite fast. Then I see the popup that Rutee’s picking gald off the floor again and I just use healing items on him (laughs).

I wanted to make Chelsea cute and small, so I based her image off of little birds. I gave her a palette of pink, green and blue, and made her hair look like a cockatoo or parrot. Her bloomers look like a paper lantern and I find them quite cute (laughs). Her life story makes me want to cry though. She’s fine and all in the first game, but in the sequel, she’s still wearing those bloomers from when she was a kid, living all alone on a snowy mountain. And if you go through her drawers, you can take something that Woodrow gave to her. I felt so bad, I thought “even though it’s so out of the way, I’ll go buy all the items you need!” (laughs). Then she makes all of these bows for you, but by then, I’d already enhanced my weapons a lot… But I felt so bad that I never Refined them and thought, “I’ll keep these on me forever” (laughs).

Johnny’s original idea was “troubadour,” but as the story progressed and I gave him his hat and all sorts of plumes, he came out a bit comical (laughs). He’s a really fun character to have in your party though, and I fell in love with him right away. I love that his tone-deafness does physical damage to the enemies (laughs).

With the Swordians, they have the will of humans and I wanted to incorporate that into their designs, but it didn’t seem to fit so I went for something more inorganic. Berselius alone has a creepy aura to him, and when Destiny 2 came around I thought “But his owner is such a nice person! Is it really okay for him to have such a creepy design?” but then I thought well, maybe Harold just likes things that way (laughs).

#seines translation #tales of destiny #tales of destiny 2 #mutsumi inomata #tales design notes #inomata mutsumi

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spidernuggets · 4 months

Note

Hi! :D

I was wondering if you could do a jason x fem reader where jason just rescued reader from being kidnapped and he has to calm her down from a panic attack?

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warning‼️: threats of rape

Note: I apologise in advance, I don't have much experience of comforting or calming someone down during a panic attack

You couldn't see. It was dark. You were sitting down on a hard, cold surface. Wherever you were, you were moving. But, you couldn't moce your arms or your legs. Your wrists were bound together behind your back, and your ankles tied together.

You were whimpering and crying, tears rolling down youe face as you heard someone, a man most likely, scoffing at your state.

"This is the girl big, bad Red Hood is hooking up with? I expected someone... Feistier. Definitely wouldn't mind a feisty gal," he grunted and you sniffled at his comment.

So you were kidnapped as bait for Red Hood?

You were scared. This never happened before. You couldn't even remember what happened before you got kidnapped. But you knew your boyfriend was already out on patrol. Yeah. And he checks up on you ever half hour. He'll find you. He'll figure out where you are.

The vehicle came to a stop. The ropes from your ankles were cut. Someone harshly grabbed your arm, forcing you up and shoving you out of the van, almost tripping over when you couldn't watch your step.

"Move it, bitch," a different man said, pushing your back every two seconds, guiding you to a cliche located warehouse.

You were gagged with an itchy rope tight around your face, dribbles of saliva running down, mixed with your salty tears.

"Ugh, fucking disgusting. Did he answer yet?" Asked one of the men.

"No, sir. It's been 17 minutes since our message."

"Tsk." The man who seemed to be the one in control of this situation leaned down by your ear. "Looks like you don't mean as much to him as both of us thought. You know, if he doesn't come, we can still make good use of you," he sneers, grasping a tight hold of your jaw.

You snarled, refusing to take any of this bullshit, anger rising in your chest. You took the close proximity as a chance to kick him as hard as you could in the crotch. You can hear the loads of guns being pointed towards you, but no fire. You assumed their boss refrained them from pulling the triggers.

"Oh, ho, you fucking whore!" He yells, giving you a brutal slap across the face, making you topple over, your head hitting against the cold, concrete floor. Luckily, though, you were still conscious, aware of your surroundings.

The man pulls you back up and grabs you by the throat. "That was your only warning, you little bitch. Make a move like that again, and the next time your little Red Hood fellow sees you, you'd be branded by someone else," he threaten as the other men snickered and laugh at your vunerable state.

But then, there was a sound of a creek of a floorboard in the distance. You can hear the mean aiming their guns to where the sound was coming from, up at the catwalk.

Suddenly, one of the men dropped dead. As some of the men closer inspected the now dead body, they saw a small hole in the middle of the dead man's eyes.

A few seconds before they could react, three more of the men got shot. Unusually, though, there were no gunshot sounds. And you knew Jason was there. Jason once told you that if you were ever kidnapped, he would use a silencer, so you'd be less startled.

You weren't, to say the least, but then one of the men was ordered to grab you and bring you back to the van. You felt the harsh breeze slap your skin, struggling and wriggling in the man's grasp.

"Shut uo, would you-" The boss yelled and was about to throw a punch if his head wasn't then filled with lead a split second after.

You felt the grip the man had on you loosen. You were so shook, you fell to the ground, crying and whimpering, still unable to see or speak.

You felt like you couldn't breathe. Your heels were digging against the dirt and gravel, and your nails pierced cresent shaped dents in your skin.

"Y/n!"A voice called out. But you couldn't register whose voice. "Darling- Hey, princess, I'm here- I'm right here, it's me, don't worry," the voice said frantically.

You were in a state of shock, you kept kicking, and your screams were muffled. You looked like a mess. Snot was running down your nose, your wrists were red and bruised, and some of the skin was peeling off, and foam of saliva filled the corners of your lips.

Jason quickly untied all the bounds. He started with the rope around your face. Once it was released, you wasted no time to beg for you life.

"No- No, please! I'm- I'm sorry, please, please," you wailed, choking on your sobs in the process.

"Wh-what? Darling, it's okay, it's me! It's Jason!" He tried to assure, but to no avail. You were still squirming against him as he tried to take off your blindfold.

But once he did, your eyes were bright red and closed tight.

"Please!" You sobbed. "Please, let me go, I won't tell anyone, just- please." Your breathing began to quicken and became unsteady.

Jason started to panic, cutting the ropes off your wrists as fast as he could. Once your arms were free, you put them in front of you in defence.

"I'm sorry, please! I- I can't-" Your sobs grew loud, your hands grasping at the dirt on the ground, gravel pieces digging into your nails.

Jason carefully places his hand on your knee. "My love, please look at me. It's me. Jason. Look," he took his glove off and held his hand in front of your shut eyes, hoping you'd open them for at least a second. "It's me, your husband. You're safe. I came. I promised you I would always protect you," he continued to assure you.

You peeked and saw the glistening band that rested around his ring finger. You still couldn't pricess that it was Jason who was in front of you, but you called out his name.

"Jay?" You whimpered. Jason nodded, his free hand slowly reaching out to hold your cheek, his rough textured glover softly caressing your face.

The hand on your knees takes your hand, and he puts it against his heart. "Breathe with me, doll. I'm here for you, okay?" He says, taking deep breaths in and out.

Your breath continues to shudder but manages to slowly follow his deep breathing patterns. "That's it, love. You're doing so well."

Finally, you can see the face of the love of your life, kneeling in front of you, eith glassy eyes and a scared and concerned look on his face.

"Jason," you said quietly while sniffling. You weakling reaching your arms out, and Jason immediately understood. He leaned towards you, holding you in a secure embrace, a promise showing you that he'll always save you.

"Did they hurt you?? Did they touch you?" He said, fury sparking in his eyes as you weakly nodded.

Jason clears the damp hair away from your face. "Listen to me, sweetheart. They're dead. They're all dead. Every single one who laid a hand on who, and those who were an accomplice to it. They're dead. And I'll kill anyone else who thinks they have a right to do so," he says.

You were never afraid of Red Hood. Why be afraid of someone who loves you so much that they'd kill someone who put you in danger for you?

And that's why you love him just as much.

soz this fic is shorter than my usual ones, hope you lile it!! 😭😭

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