#SO CAN WE STOP GIVING HER A PLATFORM ALREADY???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aphroditessaturn · 10 months

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𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 || 𝐌. 𝐎.

pairing || miguel o'hara x fem!reader (is a spider-woman, tho nothing specific)

summary || you have anger issues and it’s no secret to anyone in the Spider-Society, Miguel might as well be the only who can tame you. His methods are, quite effective…

warning || smut! p in vi, oral (female [fingering] and male receiving) throat fucking, nipple play, spanking if you squint

note || I had to get him out of my system and I'm not even done, this piece is for my anger issues and I need a Miguel to fuck them out of me. please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Miguel fics, I have so many more ideas

legend || mi luciérnaga = my firefly; abre la boca = open your mouth; buena niña = good girl; mocosa = brat; puta = whore; dios mío = my god; niña traviesa = naughty girl

BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST

“I do not have anger issues, who does he think he is?” you asked to no one in particular while walking around Miguel. He let out a sigh, pressing his fingertips against temples.

“He’s like what? 15, yeah you don’t say that to someone twice your age,” you continued, your blood pressure building up with every second you thought about the incident.

Miguel tried to be calm, but the last mission worked him up and scratched on his nerves. The mission went fairly well, except for you going ballistic and the newcomer – Miles – commenting on it. Oh, and the target almost escaping because of Miles which lead to all of this.

“Can’t fucking believe this, he was the reason the mission almost failed, and he dares to say I have anger issues!” the last part you nearly screamed. You never paused, always moving around.

You couldn’t stay calm, couldn’t calm down. Every vein beneath your skin run hot, some just waiting to explode.

Suddenly both of you heard someone coming near Miguel’s platform, said Spider turned around with a glare. He knew exactly who came and what would happen if you saw him, but now there was no preventing it.

You walked to the edge of the platform and looked down at Miles, “came to apologize?” you asked and crossed your arms over your chest.

Miles looked confused, no he wasn’t here to apologize, and he would make that clear, “you threatened me, screamed at me because I let the anomaly almost escape. You overreacted,” he stated.

Your eyes squinted together, expression hardening. “You can’t do a thing right and accuse me of having anger issues? I do not have fucking anger issues!”

Just as you were about lounge at Miles, arms wrapped around your waist, “enough,” Miguel’s deep voice rang through your ears. Normally his voice would smooth you, but you were already too gone.

Your man however ignored that and pushed you behind him.

“Miles, we will talk about this later. You made a mistake -,” “what, you’re saying she didn’t go bonkers?” Miles didn’t want to accept that what you did was right.

“If you’d let me finish, you would know that she will get her fair share of consequences,” Miguel snapped at the young boy, while it made a small part of Miles feel better it only angered you more.

“Are you serious? You let that little shit get away with saying I’m in the wrong? He lost the target and we had to-,” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Miles, leave,” Miguel’s voice was dark and left no room for back talk, he sounded scary to be honest.

Miles immediately left, knowing it was better for now and he needed to get away from you.

“We weren’t finished yet,” you barked at Miguel who didn’t bat an eye. You stalked up to him, trying to intimidate him – unsuccessfully. “Yes, we were and it’s time you calm down, mocosa,” he whispered and grabbed your waist.

You were manhandled onto his desk, wrists held together in his right hand. With his left hand he ripped down your suit, “you asshole! Can’t you-,” “yeah mocosa, stop your whining,” Miguel rolled his eyes.

Without warning he pushed pointer and middle finger into your drenched cunt, you gasped. Realising with just a few words he had you wet and in your rage you didn’t even notice.

He curled his fingers against your walls, your head fell back. Right hand letting go of your wrists and sliding down to your neck.

Miguel moved his head into the crook of your neck, kissing along your carotid artery.

A shudder run down your spine when you felt his sharp teeth graze your skin. You adored the feeling of his teeth piercing your skin as it made you feel a kind of pleasure nothing else brought you.

Miguel had easily picked up on that all those years ago and now used it taunt you, “niña traviesa,” he commented with a small smirk.

His fingers kept a slow pace, it was torture and Miguel knew that. “Miguel,” you snapped, a plead for more however the man above you wasn’t having it. “You think you can be a mocosa and I’ll just give you what you want?”

“I wasn’t a brat! It’s not my fault your spider people can’t do their job and then-,” “dios mío,” again Miguel cut you off, picking up the pace.

Hitting that spongy spot inside you which pulled a loud moan from your lips. As his fingers worked their magic on brining you closer to your high, Miguel run his tongue along your earlobe and gently nibbled on your skin. With your hands free you threaded them through his beautiful hair

You closed your eyes, the feeling just too wonderful and for a moment you lost yourself but quickly Miguel reminded you that this was a punishment.

“Look. At. Me,” his voice deep, commanding. His hand was suddenly in your hair, gripping it tight as he pulled your head back. It was a way to underline his words.

You looked at him with pleading eyes, god you loved this side of him. Miguel would make you take whatever he gave you if you could or not – you were surprised with how much you could actually take.

“I’ve barley did anything and you’re already putty in my hands,” he teased, slowing his pace down again. You wanted to scoff at his words.

He didn’t do ‘barley anything’, he almost bit into your sensitive neck, rubbed his fingertips over you bundle of nerves and hit your g-spot with every thrust. Miguel very well knew that all those little things would send your body into overdrive.

“You know exactly what you did!” you spit at him and drew a low chuckle from him, it amused him how you kept pushing, “are you that much of a puta for me that you can’t shut up?” “Guess if you want me to shut up then you have to fuck my-,” “fine.” Miguel retrieved his fingers from your cunt pulling a whine from you.

Both hands gripped your middle, manhandling you down to your knees. He gripped your chin with his thumb and pointer finger tilting your head up to look deep into your eyes.

Then his suit slowly started to dissolve, starting by his neck, and revealing his naked, toned chest, his broad shoulders, and muscled arms. The light of the screens dipped Miguel into a dangerous red which made him look like the devil in person.

Now he was completely naked, his mushroom formed tip hitting his lower abdomen. “Abre la boca,” when you didn’t instantly comply Miguel slapped your cheek, causing you to gasp and open your mouth, “now,” he added.

His thumb moved between your lips and pressed onto your tongue to make you kept your mouth open, “you’re going to be a buena niña and suck my cock.”

You caved and let your mouth hang open, tongue already awaiting him. At first, he gently placed his tip on your tongue, giving you a chance to taste his salty precum. Then without warning he thrusted his cock full on into your mouth.

You gagged as it hit the back of your throat, Miguel looked down on you. There was still a part of him that didn’t fit inside your mouth, but it was his mission to make sure it did.

Miguel began fucking your face, abusing your throat with his harsh thrusts. You looked up at him with teary eyes, his head was tipped back in pleasure and a deep groan fell from his lips. You clenched your thighs together, you were a whore for Miguel as it was already but something that always got you were his moans.

Miguel was vocal, so fucking vocal. For one his mouth never stopped running, but then there were his moans. They were deep, hoarse, and loud.

However, your throat couldn’t keep up with his pace any longer, though you loved the feeling of getting used by him too much. Salvia dripped from the corner of your mouth, his cock twitched in your mouth which was his cue to pull away.

You whimpered pathetically, of course Miguel catched up on that and wiped your mouth with his thumb. “Such a cock slut already, just for me,” he stroked over your hair before kneeling down your level and hosting up into his arms. Your back hit his desk, legs dangling over the edge.

“What hermosa? No, smart comment?” Miguel teased with a smirk, you couldn’t say a word. Your throat hurt, no tone would come from your lips.

Miguel dipped his head down, teeth closing around your nipple while his right hand grabbed your breast. Massaging it as his tongue lapped on your nipple, causing you to whimper again. In response your man slapped your breast making you moan, “fuck,” your voice barely audible, throaty thanks to Miguel.

Switching sides he sucked on your right nipple, your hand coming up to grab his hair and pulling on his roots. “Ay, dios mío,” Miguel moaned, loudly.

He pinched your neglected nipple causing you to arch your back and a line of goosebumps to adorn your skin.

Suddenly you felt his tip stroke over your drenched entrance, distracted by his work on your breasts you hadn’t noticed immediately.

“Miguel,” you whispered and in the next moment he had plunged his huge cock into your cunt. A pained yet pleasurable moan left your body, loud and hoarse.

His cock was big, and thick, god even after all this years you needed time to adjust to his size. You could feel those veins, how he stretched you out. “Don’t fret mi luciérnaga, I’m not fully inside you yet,” Miguel whispered against your lips before kissing you.

You loved his kisses, they were full of fire and passion. Miguel kissed you like he owned you – he did, and it was one of your favourite things. His lips were so soft and warm, sliding over yours before his teeth bit into your bottom lip.

“After all those years and you’re still so tight,” he gushed and slowly pushed deeper inside you, lifting his head to look at you with a smirk.

“Feel that mi luciérnaga? Feel me deep inside your belly,” Miguel pressed his hand onto your stomach, feeling his tip bulge out, “am I too big for you?” he taunted.

You didn’t know what possesed you, but something did, “you wish,” you snapped. Miguel looked dumbfounded for a second before his expression turned into a glare, “guess my mocosa is back.”

He pulled out all the way before harshly pushing back in with his full length, cunt pulsing around him as he pounded into you without mercy. You couldn’t catch a break, he constantly hit your sensitive spot, “you like it, huh, like me fucking you like the puta you are,” aside from his cock pushing you into an abyss of pleasure, Miguel’s voice made you shiver.

It also didn’t help that he groaned uncontrollably, growling when you tightened around him. You were close, so fucking close and he knew it.

Miguel wrapped your legs tight around his waist to keep you close. His thrusts became harsher, and his thumb pressed down on your bundle of nerves, drawing hard circles.

His pace was animalistic, “look at you, mi luciérnaga already cock drunk. That’s what you need, someone to fuck all the anger out of you, fuck you dumb.” You couldn’t say anything, only unidentified words came past your lips.

Your high was near, it came and washed over you like a fresh shower, “mhm, come for me, buena niña,” Miguel only strengthened it.

“I’m not finished yet,” he stated and manhandled you, so your back was turned to him.

All the while still having his cock in your needy cunt and fucking you through your orgasm. His hands gripped your ass as he rutted into you, “Miguel,” you whined, holding onto his desk, “come on where’s your fire mi luciérnaga?” he slapped your ass.

You had nothing in you anymore, your head was completely empty. As much as would’ve wanted, you couldn’t. You just laid there, enjoying the pleasure, and taking everything Miguel gave you.

“Maldito infierno,” he cursed as he reached his orgasm, for a moment he stilled inside you and painted your velvet walls with his cum. Filling you up to the brim, not pulling out.

He slid his hand around you and pulled you against his broad chest, right hand wrapping around your throat like a necklace.

“How you feeling mi luciérnaga,” he whispered, softly stroking your sides while you closed your eyes.

“’m fine, Miggy,” you mused laying your head on his shoulders. Everything felt at peace, you were calm and had no issues with anything.

You could just lean against Miguel and he would take of you. He scooped you up and slowly pulled out to make sure he didn't hurt you, his cum leaking out of your cunt. A sight Miguel could never forget – one he didn't want to forget.

Miguel went to your universe, laying you into your bed and cleaning you up. Meanwhile you dazed around, until he joined you in bed.

"I don't have anger issues," you muttered into him as you cuddled up against him.

He covered you two with the blanket, "no, you don't," he agreed and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. You were fast asleep, tired and spend while Miguel admired your beauty.

You have anger issues, always will but Miguel knew an affective method to control them. Add to that he loved your fire, needed it.

And Miles did fuck up.

please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Miguel fics, I have so many more ideas

BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic

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redroses07 · 1 month

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Heartfirst // Johnnie Guilbert

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is best friends with Johnnie and is avoiding telling him her feelings, but it's Tara's 1mil celebration party and she seems to be having some newfound confidence.

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, slightly suggestive, drinking, use of y/n (i tried to avoid i’m sorry)

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first time writing for Johnnie and tbh I'm really proud of it! It took me a few days to finish and I really hope you guys like it. As always requests are open if you wanna see more of this type of stuff. Love y'all sm!! ♡⋆˙

You were at your house getting ready for your roommate Tara's party. She was throwing a party to celebrate reaching 1 million on her Youtube channel, and almost everyone you knew was attending.

Reaching 1 million was an amazing milestone for her and you were so incredibly proud. You were also a content creator with a solid following, but nothing close to what she had accomplished.

You were finished with your hair and makeup and now just had to decide what to wear. You were torn between a silky black slip, or a sparkly gold mini dress.

"Tara come in here I can't decide what to wear!" You shouted down the hall.

Tara comes rushing out of her room, always prepared to give the best fashion advice. She was already dressed but her makeup was noticeably incomplete, only sporting her signature winged eyeliner on one eye.

"Okay, show me the options." Tara exclaimed, clearly filled with excitement.

You went into your closet and emerged holding the two dresses.

"I feel like the black fits better, but it's kinda basic."

Tara looks between the two and smirks.

"Well which one do you think Johnnie would like better?"

Your jaw fell open, clearly embarrassed by her words.

Johnnie was one of your best friends, and Tara's too. You two spent an awful lot of time together, especially recently since you had begun filming together much more frequently. You will admit, you two had chemistry, and your friends and fans alike picked up on it.

You couldn't deny the not so little crush you had on him, but no way you were ever gonna admit that. It took you forever to admit it to even Tara, you would be mortified if Johnnie ever found out. Although that didn't stop Tara from pressuring you almost every day to confess. It was according to her "obvious he felt the same", but you refused to take the risk and find out.

"What! I'm just being real." Tara said, eyeing your nervous expression.

You shook your head, giving her an annoyed glance.

"I say gold. We can be like opposites cause I'm wearing silver." Tara pointed to her dress.

You smiled, throwing the black dress to the side.

"See I can always count on you to make my decisions for me."

Tara laughed and sped out of the room to finish her makeup.

You proceeded to finish getting dressed, and while you did you thought about what Tara had said.

Maybe it was time for you to finally stop avoiding things and fess up, at least you would know the truth. The only drawback was losing your best friend. If Johnnie didn't feel the same then that would surely make your friendship awkward.

Curiosity was beginning to get the better of you, and maybe tonight would be the night you would find out the truth.

You could've said speak of the devil, because right at that moment Tara popped her head into your room to tell you that Jake and Johnnie had arrived.

"I hope you're ready, Jake said they brought a ton of stuff and need help carrying it all inside." Tara said with a sigh.

Her makeup was now complete, eyeliner perfectly symmetrical on both sides and glitter eye shadow completing the look.

"Yeah hold up I'm coming." You replied, jumping up from your seat and sliding your feet into your black platforms.

As you headed out the door and towards the car, you couldn't help but contain your excitement to see Johnnie. This recent rush of confidence has made you more eager and energetic than normal.

When you reached the car the first thing you saw was Jake piling boxes into his arms, and Johnnie very loudly complaining about how much shit he brought.

"What the hell...how much did you guys bring?" Tara asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Uhhhh, lots of food, and lots of alcohol," Jake began.

"Let's just say I'm gonna get fucked up tonight."

Tara rolled her eyes, and reached into the trunk to grab more boxes.

You rounded the corner and crept up behind Johnnie.

"Boo!" You said, causing him to jump and drop the box he was currently holding.

"Y/N!" Johnnie exclaimed the moment he saw you, completely forgetting about the box he had dropped.

"Johnnie, that could've been breakable." Jake huffed half jokingly.

Johnnie replied by flipping him off as he ran in to give you a hug. He wrapped his arms around you tightly as if he hadn't seen you in forever, when in reality it had only been about two days.

You breathed in the musky scent of his cologne as the hug lasted a bit longer than it should.

You broke apart and took a long look at your best friend. He was wearing a low cut black dress shirt that showed off several tattoos on his chest. He matched it with black jeans, a silver belt, and several chains hanging from his waist.

“You look pretty” Johnnie gave you a sheepish smile.

"Aww thank you!" Him complimenting you like this wasn't unusual for your friendship, but that didn't stop your heart from skipping every time.

Jake walked behind Johnnie slapping him on the back of the head as he did. "What the fuck Jake." Johnnie snapped, rubbing the back of his head.

"You know what." Jake responded without hesitation, giving Johnnie a telling look.

You wondered what Jake could possibly mean by that, maybe there was something Johnnie wasn't telling you. Although it wasn't unlike the two of them to share an inside joke that was impossible for you to understand.

"Let's get back to work." You laughed pointing at the trunk.

Johnnie nodded, pushed his bangs out his eyes, and brushed your shoulder lightly while reaching into the trunk.

You, Johnnie, Jake, and Tara spent the next hour or two setting up for the party, the sun slowly disappearing as you came closer to being complete.

Just as the night arrived, so did many of your guests. People began pouring in in small, or large, groups. Tara waited at the door, greeting everyone upon arrival like the amazing host she was.

Unfortunately, without Tara, you could be pretty awkward at parties. You and Johnnie had that in common, which is why you found yourself hanging out in the corner with him.

Obviously you didn't mind, you loved hanging out with him after all. The two of you spent the early hours of the night attached at the hip, ignoring the busy sections of the party, and sipping on your drinks while making small talk with your friends.

You were on the way to refill your cup with water, fearing that you had had one too many when a clearly tipsy Tara grabbed your arm.

"Y/N! I've been looking for you all over! I need to get a clip of you to add in my video before I forget."

You happily obliged, excited that you were finally got to spend some time with your best friend.

She led you into the living room, a camera following the two of you.

"Come on, dance with me!" Tara said excitedly, throwing her hands up in the air.

You giggled, and joined her moving to the beat of the music. Tara only needed a few shots of the two of you for her video but she spent much longer dancing with you.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed until, a few more drinks and many songs later, your feet began to ache.

"Hey Tara, keep on having fun, I'm gonna go find Johnnie and then relax for a bit." Tara gave you a hug, just in case she didn't see you again that night, and then ran off to join a few of her friends.

It took you a few minutes of aimlessly searching to find Johnnie. When you did find him, you saw he was talking to Sam and Colby while sitting on your couch that had been pushed to the back of the living room.

You plopped down next to Johnnie, carelessly resting your pounding head on his shoulder.

"Hey look at who's back." Johnnie announced, looking over at you.

You smiled, nuzzling your nose into his neck. It must be all the alcohol mixed with the excitement giving you this newfound confidence.

You sat there for a moment, letting Johnnie finish his conversation.

While you waited you thought over the same situation from earlier, and suddenly the drawbacks to confessing your feelings didn't seem so bad.

Whether Johnnie felt the same or not he would always love you regardless, whether that love be platonic or romantic.

Sam and Colby walked off, marking the end of the conversation. Johnnie turned to you, and you picked your head up from its position on his shoulder.

"I think it would be best if we both got out of here." Johnnie got up, reaching his hands out to help you up.

You took his hands and allowed him to lead the both of you away from the chaos.

You followed Johnnie down the hall until he entered your room and shut the door behind the two of you.

You took a deep breath, it was nice to be in a calm space and away from the loud party. Although you could still hear the base pumping it was easier to ignore.

"This is much better." Johnnie collapsed onto your bed.

"Hmm, my room is a real creative way to get some alone time with me." You smirked sarcastically.

Johnnie's mouth fell open, his face turning red.

"Okay dirty minded." He retorted, fidgeting with his hands.

"As if you aren't" You snapped back playfully, plopping onto your bed.

Johnnie shoved you playfully, causing you to fall back into your pillows.

The pair of you exploded into a fit of laughter. The concerning amount of mixed drinks you had both had made the ordeal much more hilarious than it really was.

After several moments a silence fell over the two of you. You were laid back on your bed, Johnnie's body only inches from yours.

You may have been slightly drunk, but you were sober enough to remember your feelings.

You turned to face Johnnie, finding yourself face to face with his icy blue eyes.

Johnnie smiled at you, that signature, warm smile of his that you loved. The sincere, loving smile that he seemed to only ever use with you.

Johnnie reached out and brushed your messy hair out of your face.

"There, now I can see all of your pretty face."

Your heart stopped, suddenly all your nerves had returned. You were scared, scared of losing this, and of losing him.

You weren't going to let this stop you though. You had spent too long avoiding this, and today you would finally confess.

"Hey Johnnie,"

"Mhm"

"I have something important to you about." Your voice was shaky, and you were convinced he noticed.

You could see his eyes fill with concern, maybe you should have used less ominous wording.

"I've been wanting to tell you this for a long time, and PROMISE ME you won't make fun of me."

"Are you serious? After how long we've known each other what could I possibly make fun of you for?"

You turned away shyly, he did have a point.

"Okay, well this is different."

"Well then I have to know, spill it." Johnnie said as he nudged your shoulder.

You blushed, avoiding eye contact in order to hide how flustered you were.

"I love you Johnnie, not like a best friend, like in love." You spat out, still refusing to make eye contact. God you sounded like a stupid high school kid.

"Hey..." Johnnie whispered.

He cupped your cheek and forced you to look him in the eye. Goosebumps formed on your skin where his skin met yours.

"I'm in love with you too, and I have been for a long time.

Your heart felt like it was going to stop, especially since he was now so close his nose was brushing against yours.

You closed your eyes before taking the leap and closing the gap between the two of you. His lips were softer than you expected, and you hoped he didn't notice how dry yours were.

Johnnie pulled you closer to him, and you re-situated yourself on top of him.

You leaned down to kiss him again, but he stopped you abruptly.

"Shit!"

You looked at him concerned, wondering if you had done something wrong.

"I owe Jake money now!"

You began to laugh as your face landed in your hands.

"You two had a bet...about me?"

Johnnie giggled nervously, still underneath you.

"I'll explain later." He said, his eyes staring intently at your lips.

He pulled you down into another kiss, this one much more passionate than the last. You felt his hands run down your sides, grabbing longingly at your hips. You pushed your tongue into the roof of his mouth, causing him to grip your hair.

You let out a soft moan, which was followed by Johnnie flipping you over so that he could be on top.

Your lips not breaking apart once during the swift motion.

You continued to kiss him, your hands tugging at his shirt in an attempt to bring him even closer.

He began kissing your neck softly, as he reached behind you to fiddle with the zipper on your dress.

Just as things were heating up you heard the door swing open followed by an extremely loud voice.

"You better pay the fuck up bitch!!" Jake shouted cause the both of you to nearly jump out of your skin.

The two of you scrambled to sit up, adjusting your clothes as you did.

"What the fuck Jake!" You shouted, re-zipping your dress.

"Oh don't you start with me missy,"

"Tara come here I was right, look at them!"

You groaned, letting your head fall into Johnnie's chest.

"There, there." Johnnie patted your head sarcastically.

"Well, I hope you're okay with the whole world knowing." You say grumpily.

"Are you kidding, the whole world better know that I'm in love with you!"

You smiled, and kissed Johnnie on the cheek. If only you had done this sooner.

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert fic #jake and johnnie #jake webber #johnnie guilbert x you #tara yummy #johnnie guilbert fanfic #emo #johnnie guilbert imagine

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clu-ven · 1 year

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A Curious Mind

summary: Hunter has always treated you slightly different and Omega is determined to find out why

word count: 2.1k

!reader goes by she/her pronouns!

The bright suns of Plurax make you wince, your arm instinctively coming up to shield your eyes. Shuffling out of the Marauder, you’re about to follow Echo down the steps when a hand suddenly appears in front of you.

“Oh!” you abruptly stop, almost colliding with it. Looking over to identify the owner of the hand, Hunter comes into view, an amused smile playing at his lips.

Already on the ground below, he stretches his gloved hand up to you, offering some support as you exit. You give him a grateful smile “Thanks Sarge”.

Slipping your hand into his, Hunter gives you a small, reassuring squeeze and you continue your descent down.

You’re not sure why you were so surprised by the action, after all, this isn’t a rare occurrence. In fact, it’s the opposite. Whether you have to jump a few feet from a ship or simply walk down a landing platform, Hunter always offers you his hand.

Every. Single. Time.

Once your feet reach the ground, he nods his head and reluctantly lets his hand fall from yours. His grip on his helmet, placed neatly underneath his other arm tightens for a moment as he wonders if he should have said more to you.

Oblivious to Hunter’s internal worries, you walk over to the rest of the batch and listen to Tech’s recap of the plan.

Turning back to the ship, Hunter taps the command panel and watches as the Marauder begins to close. Sensing eyes on him, he glances over his shoulder to the rest of the batch, only to realise none of them are paying much attention to him.

Casting his gaze downwards, his eyes meet Omega’s, who peers up at him curiously.

“Why do you always do that?” she asks.

“So we won’t get raided,” he shrugs as if the answer is obvious “or worse, if someone sees a ship like this unlocked, they’ll steal it and get a few thousands credits for it, especially with the amount of upgrades it has”.

“What? No, not that” Omega rolls her eyes, returning Hunter’s ‘that should be obvious’ tone.

When Omega says your name, Hunter’s eyes go wide, his posture becoming stiff as she elaborates “You always help her off the ship… why?”. His eyes flick over to you as Omega talks, hoping you didn’t hear her say your name.

Thankfully you’re too busy listening to Tech, who’s explaining your part of the mission to you.

“Just to be nice, I guess” he mumbles his response, trying to keep his voice low.

“But you don’t do it for Wrecker or Tech or Echo… hey, you don’t do that for me either!” she exclaims, a tinge of annoyance in her voice.

Hunter shakes his head, his mind turning to mush as he tries to think of an easy explanation “Well, that’s because you don’t need help getting off the ship”.

It’s like he can see the cogs turning in Omega’s head, already cringing at his answer as she questions “... but she needs help? She can’t get off the ship if you don’t hold her hand?”.

Oh Kriff.

“Well, no, that’s not what I meant-” he starts but Omega quickly talks over him. “Is she not good with balance? Is it like how Wrecker doesn’t like heights?”.

Before Hunter can form a response, Wrecker loudly interrupts them, the mere mention of his fear getting his full attention.

“Heights?!” Wrecker repeats, drawing everyone’s focus to Hunter and Omega. Throwing his head back, Wrecker lets out a whine “Oh please tell me this mission doesn’t involve heights”.

“Plurax is a relatively flat planet,” Tech interjects, his eyes still fixed on his datapad “and considering our main objective is to extract the bacta pods found in the small medical facility, I doubt heights will be involved”.

Wrecker lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders deflating. “Phew, you almost got me that time, Hunter” he chuckles.

Hunter nods, hoping to quickly brush past this entire situation. “Right, well let’s get this over and done with” taking his helmet from underneath his arm, Hunter places it on his head.

“But what about my quest-” Omega starts but Hunter cuts her off, acutely aware that you as well as the others are still listening “Later, Omega. All that matters right now is the mission”. With a sigh, she nods her head.

***

After successfully retrieving the bacta pods, the Marauder is quiet… for once. The hum of the ship speeding through hyperspace fills the silence as everyone gets some much needed rest.

Peering out of her room, Omega holds on to Lula the tooka doll as she scans the bunks. Wrecker sleeps in one, his arm obscuring his face and thankfully muffling his snores. On the other bunk, Tech is fast asleep and judging by the pile of blankets on the upper bunk, you’re asleep up there.

Tip-toeing past, Echo comes into view. He’s seated at the table, head resting on his arm as he mumbles in his sleep. Continuing on her journey, Hunter is the last person for Omega to see, his seated form visible when she approaches the cockpit. Slowly, she nears him.

From the corner of his eye, Hunter notices Omega, subtly watching as she quietly walks forward. “You should be asleep” Hunter’s voice cuts through the silence, making Omega stop in her tracks.

She sighs, giving up her attempt to sneak “But I can’t, I’m not tired”. Hopping up on the seat beside him, Omega keeps Lula close to her, curling up on the chair.

Hunter doesn’t reply. He knows how hard it is to go from being on high alert on a mission to being told to get some rest, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

He remembers the first few missions he ever went on and how hard it was to rest, his senses too overwhelmed to even comprehend the idea of sleep.

“You did it again, y’know” Omega says, pulling his attention back to her.

“What?” Hunter has a suspicious feeling he knows what she’s talking about but he hopes if he feigns some kind of ignorance then hopefully she’ll drop it.

“You helped her back onto the ship,” she explains, some sarcasm in her voice as she teases “when we were leaving Plurax… she must have really bad balance if you have to help her all the time”.

Head dipping down, Hunter’s hair obscures his face. “Omega,” he groans “she doesn't have balance problems, it’s just… look, it’s better if you let this go, ok?”.

“But why?” she drops her legs down, leaving them dangle freely.

“It’s… complicated”.

“How?” she presses, shrugging as she mumbles “I’m just curious”.

“Yeah, too curious,” Hunter says with an affectionate scoff and shake of his head.

Trying to simplify it, Omega begins listing out “Earlier you said that you do it to be nice but you only do it for her, nobody else! She doesn’t need you to do it since she doesn’t actually have any balance problems, hmmm and it’s pretty obvious you don’t like it when people point it out”. Hunter grimaces the more Omega goes on.

Thinking out loud, she furrows her brow “I wonder if she notices, I mean it’s pretty obvious so she must have by now…maybe I should ask her”.

“What? No!“ Hunter is quick to sit on the edge of his seat, facing Omega fully “You can’t do that, that’s a direct order”. Despite his pleading look, Omega simply raises an eyebrow, knowing she’s got him right where she wants him.

“Okay, I won’t ask her,” she complies before adding “but you have to tell me why!”.

Hunter sighs. A part of him is impressed, equally proud of her determination as well as cursing it. Sighing, he avoids her eye contact as he tries to explain.

“Well, since she’s not… uh, a clone… I just want to make sure… that, um… that she feels welcome” yes, Hunter is making this up as he goes. It’s true, of course but not his main reason.

Omega is not convinced, her face the epitome of disappointment. Not giving in, she replies “Yeah, that’s nice and all, Hunter but I don’t think that’s why”.

Hunter’s body deflates, putting his face in his hands. Even if he wants to, he doesn’t think he can get the words out. This is something he’s never had to verbalise before nor is it something he’s had to admit to anybody.

With his face still covered, he hears Omega’s voice “Can I tell you my theory?”.

He doesn’t reply and yet Omega continues “I think you like her”. Hunter can hear her smile in her tone, removing his hands to confirm his suspicions.

Watching for his reaction, Omega beams up at him. “And I mean like like her” she adds with the wiggle of her eyebrows.

Hunter keeps his face still, unsure how to react.

“I mean, it’s not a bad thing if you do,” she shrugs, offering some reassurance “I think it’s kinda cute, especially since she like likes you too”.

He freezes.

What?

Judging by the stunned look on Hunter’s face, Omega explains “I overheard her saying it to Echo, she said something about her heart racing whenever you’re around and being paranoid over it. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing at first but every time you do something nice for her, she gets all lovey-dovey so I think it’s a good thing”.

“Lovey-dovey?” Hunter scrunches up his face, not quite believing what his sister is saying.

“Yeah, like this” clutching her hands together, Omega tries her best to bat her eyelashes as she lets out a comically loud sigh before giving Hunter a goofy smile.

With a grin tugging at his lips, he dismisses “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her do that before”.

“That’s because you always look away!” she exclaims “ooh, I’ll have to add that to the list; you’re really bad at keeping eye contact with her”.

He rolls his eyes but the idea that maybe, just maybe you like him too distracts Hunter from properly deflecting Omega’s addition to her list. Even the idea of their being some hope that you feel the same way is enough to send Hunter’s head spinning.

Yawning, Omega hops down from her seat “I’m just saying, it would be a shame if you both like like each other but never tell one another”.

Hunter stays quiet, though he knows she’s right. “Anyways, I’ll try to get some sleep, night Hunter” giving him one last smile, Omega leaves him alone with his thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, Hunter leans back in his seat, resting one of his legs by the command panel as he looks out at the whirling blue lights of hyperspace. Hunter closes his eyes, trying to centre himself. Only you could daze him as much as this and make it feel so damn exciting.

Were the signs that you liked him back always there? For a guy with heightened senses, he presumed he would have picked up on it… but Omega is right, he doesn’t exactly hold eye contact with you. And whenever he hears the loud beating of a heart when you’re near, he hurriedly assumes it’s his own.

Speaking of his senses, he can tell Omega is still there, hovering by the doorway. He waits a few seconds, giving her the time to speak but she doesn’t.

Hunter knows where this is going, presuming she’ll either ask him to carry her back to bed or try to convince him to get her a snack. He takes his time opening his eyes again, turning his upper body to look at her.

Hunter can feel his stomach drop. His body automatically freezing as if you won’t see him if he doesn’t move.

You give him an equally bewildered look, a twist of anxiety in your gut. “Can we talk?” you ask, the words coming out quieter than expected.

Hunter has one main question on his mind: how much have you heard? And yet he doesn’t ask that question, instead blurting out “But I thought you were sleeping?”.

Is that a question? Or a statement? Hunter has no idea, his brain utterly scattered.

You smile nervously. “I was getting ready to go to sleep,” you reveal “I was just in the refresher”.

Pointing to the door to the refresher, Hunter’s heart lurches at how close it is to the cockpit, knowing you’ve definitely heard everything.

Clearing his throat, Hunter nods “Yeah, let’s talk”. It’s better to talk this through now, while everyone else is asleep.

He isn’t sure how this will go, still doubtful that you could actually like him back. But there’s only one way to find out. Hunter gives you a small smile as you sit where Omega was minutes ago. Once you’re comfortably seated, Hunter takes a deep breath and begins…

#I haven't proof read this so apologies if it's kinda choppy #the bad batch hunter x you #star wars tbb #bad batch hunter #hunter tbb #hunter x reader #hunter x you #the bad batch hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #the bad batch reader insert #the bad batch fanfiction #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x you

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scented-morker · 9 months

Text

Enha when 8th member s/o has a stage accident

8th member au, gn reader (mentions a dress in hee’s part), mentions of electrocution in jw + rk’s, requested!!, 1345 words not proofread

Heeseung

He was internally screaming as soon as he saw you getting ready

You guys always like to give each other fashion shows of your outfits before performing

Like "babe look!" And then strut strut strut pose "slay me!!" 😆😆

But he knew immediately that you did not feel very slayful in your outfit

You were literally yanking it down after every step you took because it was already short and just kept riding up

You give him a "What do you think? 😕"

And he's like "I think you would look really good in a pair of pants 😁"

But the stylists don't have anything else so you have to go out in it

He keeps giving you nervous looks from across the stage

Anytime he crosses in front of you or anything he tries to cover you up or block the camera so you can readjust

Literally texts THE FREAKING CEO like "I'm concerned about the outfits given to yn, she can't perform her best while being so clearly uncomfortable"

"I'm concerned about the entire world realizing you're in love with her, but I guess I can talk to the styling staff 🤷🏻‍♀️"

OKAY BANG PD CALL HIM OUT ON THE SIMPERY LIKE THAT

But you never get an uncomfortably short outfit again... Heelift indeed 😌

Jay

Someone did not think this through 😭

You're doing your killing part in one of the songs on music bank

So obviously the camera guy gets closer to zoom in on you (werk👏👏)

BUT THEN he immediately moves to camera above your head to find Sunghoon and just WALKS INTO YOUR FACE

Ik y'all have seen that wonyo fancam... that's what I'm talking about

You literally make the most horrified face bc THIS MANS CROCH IS IN YOUR FACE

Screw professionalism, you're traumatized 😀

But man jays face is WORSE 😭😭

He's SO MAD like angry eyebrows and everything bc YOU JUST GOT VIOLATED ON LIVE TELEVISION

Walks up to you in the middle of the performance and checks on you

"Are you okay? 🥺"

You're like "yeah, talk after" and go back to performing

At the end when you drop down to a similar pose he goes in front of you 😭😭

It's fine because it wasn't your ending fairy but everyone is on Twitter like "he protects them so well 😭"

He rly does 🫶🫶 and starts a petition to at least get female camera operators next time

Jake

You guys were performing at a festival in the rain (wow so safe)

And everyone has talked before hand about being extra careful so you didn't slip

But it was such a big crowd!!! And it was your favorite song!!!

So you maybe went a little bit harder than you should have 🫣

... and fell on your face mid performance

I'm sorry but he laughs 😭😭

Like he sees you down out of the corner of his eye

Just 💃🕳 and then nothing

You give him such a dirty look when he laughs bc "YOURE SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME STOP LAUGHING!!"

So ofc he runs over after and helps you up + gives you a big hug ❤️❤️

"I'm sorry, you just looked so funny!!"

So you smack him again of course because "WHAT DO YOU MEAN I LOOK FUNNY" 😠

But he kisses your boo boo scraped knees (which of course everyone LOSES IT watching) and looks up at you with a smirk 😫😫

I CANT 😵‍💫

Sunghoon

You pretty much always had to wear heels to perform because you were so much shorter than the boys

But today man you had some BIG STOMPERS ON

Like platforms and big heels, the whole thing

And at first Hoon just laughs at you 😭😭

"You really need all that extra height?" Then he stands next to you and realizes you're still not as tall as him "and it doesn't even work!!" 😆😆

He's having the time of his life until you smack him (except he makes you kiss him after so still a win for him honestly)

But then once you guys are performing he notices that you're not moving your legs as freely as usual 🤔 (we love an observant partner <33)

He gives you a 🤷🏻‍♀️ from across the stage and you mouth back "heavy... and too big"

It's a concert and not a like show performance so he just walks over and TAKES YOUR SHOES OFF 😭😭

Like, bends down, unlaces them, takes them off and sets them by the side of the stage

You're like wow he's so sweet omg 😆 but then he goes "now you're short again" with the biggest smile and then runs away

So much for that... enjoy your sock performance 😻

Sunoo

Honestly it was really bad for you but kinda good for him 😭

You guys were performing at a fan meeting and they were gonna shoot like fireworks out at the end !!

And everyone knew it, but you were in the bathroom when they told everyone the specifics 🫣

So you were out just like casually performing, not really doing all of the choreo

More so just singing and running back and forth on the stage to say hi to everyone 🫶

But then the fireworks shootout 😭 and you were literally RIGHT NEXT TO THEM

And you’re so freaked out and they were so close and loud and you fall on your butt 😁

And the boys don’t realize it at first because they’re interacting with fans

But when you fall the whole crowd gasps 😭😭 and they’re like ????

And then Sunoo sees you on the floor half crawling away from the fireworks THAT ARE STILL SHOOTING OUT

He feels bad but he also thinks it’s really cute (😒)

But of course he helps you up 😁

And then he drags you around with him for the rest of the time

Like no you aren’t allowed to go anywhere by yourself anymore, he is holding your hand and you are going TOGETHER

Jungwon

Listen he is MAD

Like Leader Won was on high alert all day because it's been storming on and off

He was worried someone was gonna slip

But it was 10x worse 😭

You had turned your head to do a part of the choreo and some of the rain water got into your in ear

LITERALLY ELECTROCUTED YOU

It's giving Benjamin Franklin sunbaenim 😻😻

You were center for that part so all of the boys just saw you jump from the shock and then fall into a crouch covering your ears

He is IMMEDIATELY on it, running up to you and taking them out of your ears and escorting you off stage

He lowkey yells at the staff (🫣) bc "the performance should have been cancelled and now Yn's hurt!"

He doesn't want to leave you, but he has to go finish the rest of the performance

But once you're back home, he's not leaving your side

Chilling in a dark room with soft music playing so your ears don't hurt 🫶🫶

He's trending for like a week because of how scary he was 😭

Riki

Riki is the opposite of Jungwon 😭

Like he was having the time of his life performing and then he sees you drop and goes through all five stages of grief at the same time

Runs over "are you okay?!"

Except he yelled and you just got YOUR EARS ELECTROCUTED so you clutch your ears tighter bc it hurt

Once he sees you crying ITS OVER

Literally picks you up and takes you backstage, yelling to any staff in a thirty foot radius that he needs help ☹️

They lay you down in a stretcher and take you out to make sure you don't have like permanent ear drum damage or anything and he's just standing there like 😨

He has no idea what to do with himself

"Can I go with them? Please please please?"

So they let him of course bc he's cute and he WILL NOT let go of your hand for the entire time you're being treated until you're back in the dorms laid on his bed 🥹

He’s so clingy for like a week after because he was just so scared and he never wants to be away from you ☹️

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen hcs #enhypen heeseung x reader #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jake scenarios #enhypen jay scenarios #enhypen sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunoo x reader #enhypen jungwon x reader #enhypen riki scenarios #enhypen heeseung scenarios #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen sunghoon scenarios #enhypen sunoo scenarios #enhypen jungwon scenarios #enhypen riki x reader

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riordanness · 4 months

Text

tolerate it — [p.mellark]

wordcount: 3.9K

warnings: slight death mentions, but bro it’s the hunger games what did you reallllllly expect

requested: yes!! @ornellastreet <33

I didn’t think it was possible for my mood to get worse after being reaped, but hearing his name called out over the loudspeaker definitely made me feel like hitting something.

“Peeta Mellark!” The chipper lady, Effie, is way over the top about all this. I mean, I get that it’s her job and all, but we’re kids, fighting to the death. We aren’t lottery winners or something.

I watch as the all too familiar blond boy’s face goes pale, then stare as he slowly makes his way towards the platform, toward me. He doesn’t look me in the eyes at first, just simply takes his place beside Effie.

“We have our tributes!” Effie squeals excitedly. “Now, shake hands, you two.”

Great. I clench my jaw as I hold my hand out to Peeta. He hesitates for just a second, but when he sees my expression, he quickly shakes my hand.

“Excellent!” Effie claps, and I feel the ridiculous urge to slap her wig off.

“Come along, both of you.” Effie waves us into the back rooms of the Justice Building. As I follow her and Peeta, I glance back over my shoulder, at what is probably my last look at home.

I sit beside Peeta, my fingers tracing the soft blue velvet of the couches in this ridiculously extravagant train car. I stare out the window, watching the world flash by faster and faster, till I get dizzy and have to stop. Then I stare at the floor.

Every part of me is aware of the boy only a few inches away. If I leaned even slightly, I would be brushing shoulders with him.

After noticing this, I quickly lean the other direction. I rest my hot forehead against the cool glass window, close my eyes, and try to pretend this is all a dream.

“Well, well, well.” A drawling male voice comes from somewhere above me, and I wake with a start. I must’ve fallen asleep in my chair, which almost impresses me because I was sure I’d been too scared to sleep.

I squint up and recognise Haymitch, the only living victor of District Twelve. He had a glass of alcohol in his left hand, and is waving the other hand at me. “Up, up!” he insists.

I get to my feet uncertainly, glancing around for a sign of Peeta.

“The boy’s already gone,” Haymitch says. “We’re arrived.”

“Arrived?” I ask. “Where?”

He spreads his hands, like ‘are you stupid?’. “The Capitol, sweetheart. Now come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Honestly? It wasn’t how I’d pictured it. I haven’t ever seen much of the Capitol, but the image in my head was way off. Everything was way more extravagant and expensive and ridiculous than I could ever have imagined.

We’ve been here almost two days now. Last night was the parade, where me and Peeta were basically lit on fire and forced to hold hands while all the Capitol citizens stared at us like we were circus animals. I hated every second of it.

I stand now in my room, on Floor 12 of this stupid tribute apartment complex. I stare out the windows, watching the Capitol go by. My fingers fidget with the satin sleeve of my new top, the most fancy thing I’ve worn to date.

I glance at the clock on the wall, and remember I’d better get going to dinner. Effie, Haymitch, Peeta, and apparently our stylists will all be waiting for me.

I hurry.

At the table, I’m forced to sit beside Peeta, much to my annoyance. He leaves me alone, though, which is more than I can say about Effie, who is peppering me with questions. I answer as little as I can, refusing to give this woman any information worth hearing.

“So.” My stylist, Cinna, gives me a smile. He’s nicer than I thought any Capitol people were capable of, but I didn’t exactly like him, not yet. “Ready for your interview tomorrow?”

“No.”

“I have your outfit ready to go. You’ll prepare with Haymitch and Effie all day, till four, then you’re mine. I’ll make you gorgeous.”

“Okay.”

Effie makes an exasperated sound in her throat. “Can’t you just try to be excited?”

I stare at her, dumbfounded. I can’t believe this. “What, excited to die?” I fake an extremely over exaggerated smile. “I can’t wait!”

Peeta kind of laughs, then immediately tries to hide it with a cough and a glass of water.

I ignore him. I’ve become pretty good at that.

Haymitch smirks. Effie sighs. Cinna gives me a knowing little wink, and Peeta’s stylist, Portia, doesn’t look at me.

I sigh and shove my chair from the table. “Night,” I announce, and storm to my room. I collapse instantly into my bed, curl into a ball, and let the tears come. I fall asleep like that, crying for home, for safety, for comfort.

The next morning, I’m woken by Effie’s ridiculous ‘It’s going to be a big, big, big day!’ The entire day sucks from that point onwards.

Both Haymitch and Effie are at their wits ends with what to do with me during my interview.

Effie has me first, and for the first hour, she keeps her optimistic outlook on my potential. Two sarcastic words from me and fifty-seven minutes later, she looks ready to wring my neck then and there. She hands me over to Haymitch looking ready to cry. I have a tiny bit of satisfaction from that, I’ll admit.

Haymitch looks, I don’t know, preoccupied, the entire of our session. Everytime I say anything, he seems almost jumpy. Eventually I give up and sit there in silence until he lets me go. I have a shower per Cinna’s instructions and wait for him in my room.

I have to admit, Cinna is a genius. His handiwork is incredible. I stand in front of the mirror and smooth my skirts, a hint of my smile on my face.

Luxurious clothing, especially dresses, were never something I even thought of back in Twelve. But it felt pretty damn good to wear one.

The dress is gold, with little pockets of white and yellow and orange and red and silver and black, like fire. When I move, it’s almost like flames are flicking over me.

“This is amazing, Cinna,” I tell him. “Thank you for making me feel pretty tonight.”

Cinna gives me a hug, and a kiss on the forehead. “I’m not allowed to bet,” he says in reply, “but if I could, I’d bet on you.”

This time, I really do smile.

I officially want to die then and there the instant I’m up on that brightly lit stage. I have no idea what to say, or how to act, and I fumble my way through the entire interview. Even Caesar Flickerman, who never seems to run out of funny things to say; who always knows how to keep the conversation flowing effortlessly, is at his wits end with me. It seems to be my only talent; making people exasperated at me.

I leave the stage to the quietest round of applause the world has ever known.

I pass Peeta in the hall, and he gives me the smallest look of acknowledgement. I wish we could just stop pretending to be friends. Nothing has ever hurt me as much as Peeta Mellark has, and I don’t know how to forgive him for it. There’s a tiny part of me that’s almost glad we're going into the Hunger Games. No matter how it goes, I won’t ever have to deal with Peeta again after this.

I go to stand beside Haymitch and Effie, and prepare to watch Peeta’s interview. I wonder what he will talk about.

I kind of feel annoyed at him the longer the interaction goes on. He and Caesar bounce effortlessly off each other, talking and joking about… showers? Anyway, the crowd seems to love it.

Then, everything changes.

Caesar leans in to Peeta conspiratorially. “So, Peeta,” he says in a whisper, but directly into the microphone of course. “Is there a special girl back home?”

“Uh, yeah, Caesar, there is.” Peeta looks a little red at the confession.

I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. We’re about to be slaughtered, and they’re discussing crushes? How ridiculous is that?

“Oh do tell.” Caesar sounds more like a teenage girl than a grown man. “We’d love to hear about her.”

Peeta clears his throat, and looks uncomfortably at the cameras. From my position inside, it’s like he’s staring right at me.

I quickly look away.

“Well,” Peeta begins, “she’s amazing. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I stuffed it up with her once. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”

I glance at the screen uncertainly.

Peeta stares right back out at me. “I’m sorry for what I did. I want to do everything in my power to fix it. I promise. I love you.”

Caesar makes a squealing noise. “How adorable!” he exclaims. “You’ll have to get back to District 12 and she’ll have to forgive you.”

Peeta laughs uncomfortably. “That wouldn’t work, in my case.”

“And why not?”

“Because…” Peeta shifts in his seat. “Because she came here with me.”

I remember very little of the aftermath of Peeta’s comment. I know a flash of fury, disbelief, and shock ran through me at once. I know I dashed off to my room. I know I got out of my insane getup and collapsed into bed. I know I wanted to hit Peeta Mellark for that comment.

But after that, I know nothing.

I wake the next morning feeling sick to my stomach. I have a headache, my body feels stiff, and I’m still irrationally angry at Peeta. Well, it’s not irrational. It’s perfectly fine to hate him for what he did. And ‘apologising’ on live tv? It was like a sick joke.

I slowly get dressed in comfy pants and a loose, light blue blouse. I tie my hair up in a ponytail, and head for breakfast.

Everyone else is already there, But I ignore them all, pile my plate with as much food as I can, and sit myself down on the floor as far as possible from Peeta.

Effie huffs. “Good morning to you too, young lady.”

I answer by shoving a bread roll into my mouth whole.

“Ugh!” Effie is more than annoyed with me, but when I catch Haymitch’s eye by accident, he has a small smirk playing at his mouth, so I figure it’s not all bad.

“Hey, y/n,” Peeta tries.

I don’t reply, don’t even acknowledge him. I’m still so angry, so hurt from all those months ago. His words from back then mix with the ones from last night in my head, giving me a headache to match my heartbreak.

“You’re not… I’m sorry… I stuffed up… she’s amazing… I don’t want to… she came here with me… you mean nothing to me… not like that, y/n… I love you…”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to block it all out. All the memories.

It was a dark, depressing day. The weather sucked, but I guess that just meant it matched the rest of District Twelve.

I was heading home after school, and trying to work up my courage to do something I’d wanted to do for years.

I was going to tell Peeta Mellark that I loved him.

Everyone knew where he lived. The bakery was a pretty, inviting little place. The window was always filled with cakes, all decorated by Peeta himself.

I skipped up the front steps, knocking twice quickly on the dark blue painted door.

A woman answered, Peeta’s mother. “Hello.”

“Hi!” I pretended not to notice her quick glance at my less-than-clean dress, or my coal-covered boots and hair. I knew I wasn't as rich as their family. I wasn’t ashamed, but her look made me sad.

“I’m here to see Peeta,” I told her.

“Ah.” She narrowed her eyes at me, then disappeared. I hear hushed voices, but don’t try to listen in on the conversation.

I just stood there and waited. Soon, Peeta appeared in the doorway. “Hey, y/n,” he says uncertainly.

“Hey.” I decided to just say it—get it over with as quickly as possible. “I like you, Peeta. Like, like, like you.”

Peeta blinked at me, stunned. “You… oh.”

I chewed my lip, suddenly feeling like this was a horrible, horrible mistake. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve just pretended I wasn’t in love with him.

Peeta’s eyes looked conflicted, hurt, despairing. But his words, and his tone, are as hard and cold as ice. “I don’t like you. Not like that, y/n. You… you’re not… anything to me. Just a friend, an acquaintance even. You’re worth nothing to me behind that.”

I physically felt the pain of my heart breaking. I wanted to cry, run, hit something.

“Oh.” I managed. “That’s… that’s cool.” I turned on my heel and ran all the way home.

It’s been over a year since Peeta Mellark broke my heart, and I’ve never gotten over it. Even now, eating my breakfast, knowing we are both probably likely to die in the arena, I still can’t find it in myself to forgive him.

I don’t believe his little stunt last night. It was for the cameras, to make a statement and gain sponsors. He doesn’t love me. He made that pretty damn clear a year ago.

I slam my plate on the ground so hard it cracks in two. A mute, red-haired girl rushes over to help me clean it. I apologise to her, but I can’t stay in this room for a moment longer. I feel trapped, like I can’t breathe.

I find my way to an out of the way part of our complex, sitting against the wall in a little window alcove. I’m overlooking the Capitol central, the citizens milling about in their celebratory days before the Hunger Games.

I feel sick at the sight.

How can they be so enraptured by the horror that is the games? How can they find actual joy and pleasure watching kids die?

“Hey.”

I start, and turn, and see Peeta a few steps away from me.

“Hi,” I say back, a little stiffly.

He gestures at the ground beside me, and I nod. He gently sits down, looking slightly nervous.

“What’s up?” I say dully.

“Uh—nothing much, thanks.”

“What are you doing here?” I have no patience for small talk, especially not now.

Peeta licks his lips and doesn’t meet my eyes. “I actually came to apologise.”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. “As opposed to your apology earlier?”

Peeta grimaces. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Haymitch made me promise not to—and, I guess I just didn’t stop to think how you’d feel.”

I look away, trying to ignore the sudden lump in my throat. “Yeah, well.”

“I’m also here to tell you the plan,” Peeta adds.

My gaze snaps back to him. “The plan?” I ask incredulously.

He nods. “This… star crossed lovers angle is really good for getting sponsors. It’ll help us gain friends in the Capitol—people who will want to help us.”

“Because it’s my goal in life to be besties with the Capitol,” I say flatly, and Peeta almost cracks a smile.

“If it’ll help to keep you alive, it is your goal.”

I shrug. “Whatever. What’s this plan?”

“Act like we’re in love.”

I stare at him for a second, then realise he’s dead serious. I deflate a little, but I know deep down he has a point. We need sponsors if we want to have any chance at all of winning the Games.

“Okay,” I say finally. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Training goes for three days, and it mostly sucks. I have zero talents, apparently, except for differentiating deadly plants from safe ones. Oh, I can also tie some knots. Not super helpful. I can’t throw a knife, shoot a bow, lift anything heavier than a couple kilos, or climb ropes very well.

As the third day comes to an end, I feel incredibly useless, and exceptionally hopeless. I’m going to be dead in a day, I can almost feel it.

Peeta actually had a pretty good chance. He’s very strong, and can lift even the heaviest of weights. He’s also a whiz at camouflage and starting fires. All bakery skills, I’ll wager.

As per Haymitch’s instructions, we stick together throughout the training, steering clear of the other tributes. We also touch whenever possible, holding hands, hugging, me letting Peeta touch my hair.

It’s all rather infuriating to me, but if it might help to keep Peeta alive for longer, then whatever. He needs to win. He needs to stay alive and get home to his family.

It’s finally the night before the Games, and to say I was completely terrified would be the absolute truth. I lie awake, goosebumps everywhere. I’m so scared I couldn’t eat anything at dinner, even though I know I should be trying to get up my strength. Who knows how long it might be before I can eat again.

I might be starving in that arena, or dehydrated, or freezing to death. Who knows? Maybe I’ll die right away, in the initial bloodbath.

I sit up in bed, sick of tossing and turning. I climb out, and head out my bedroom door. Surprisingly, it’s not locked. I guess they do have cameras literally everywhere, so they’d know if I was actually trying to escape. Which I’m not. That would be pointless. I’m going to die anyway.

Across the hall is Peeta’s room, and without thinking, I knock on his door. He opens it a second later, and his brow crunches together at the sight of me.

“Y/n?” he asks. “What are you—?”

“Can I come in?” I’m suddenly awkward, realising how weird this is.

Peeta nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Come in, please.” He steps aside and lets me pass. His room is indentical to mine.

I walk over to his bed and sit myself down on the silkily sheets. “Can I stay in here tonight?” I ask, not looking at Peeta.

I hear his bed creak beneath me as he sits too. “Yeah, ‘course you can.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then he adds, in a much softer voice, “Anytime.”

I wake up to the sun shining into the room, and for a moment, I forget entirely where I am, and what’s about to happen. I just sink into the pillows and close my eyes.

Then, I remember. The Games are today.

“Hey, you,” a voice says behind me, and I roll over in surprise. Peeta.

“Morning,” I say back, for some reason grateful he’s here. Having a familiar face to wake up to is much nicer than rising alone, facing the Games all by myself.

“Todays the day, huh?” Peeta asks, sitting up and frowning a little.

“Guess so,” I reply, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t want to get up.”

Peeta laughs, and it’s a pretty sound. Too pretty for such an awful day.

There’s a knock on our door, and Effie’s voice filters through: “Het up you two, it’s going to be a big, big, big day!”

“How does she know I'm here?” I ask, sitting up straight.

Peeta shrugs. “The Capitol has a crap ton of cameras, y/n.”

I roll my eyes in annoyance. Do they really need to know every single thing about us, before we die? It’s all so ridiculous I almost have to laugh.

“I’d better go get ready and stuff,” I tell him, sliding out of his bed. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.”

Peeta looks at me for a second, like he’s going to say something big, but just replies with, “See you in the arena.”

“Good luck.” And I’m gone.

“Ten seconds til launch.”

I take a deep breath, feel Cinna’s reassuring squeeze on my shoulder, and I step into the glass tube that will be taking me up into the arena.

“Bye, Cinna,” I half whisper. “Thank you for everything.”

He gives me a smile, that somehow is genuinely caring. “Good luck, my dear girl.”

Something inside the tube clicks, and it slides shut, locking me into my fate. It begins to slowly rise, and so does my anxiety. I come completely out of the tube, and bright, blazing sunlight temporarily blinds me. When I can see again, my throat squeezes in terror and anticipation. All of us are the same distance apart, standing on little pods that I know we can’t step off of without being blown to the sky.

In the middle of the tribute circle is a metal cornucopia, with various weapons and supplies arranged around it, trying to tempt us. I remember Haymitch’s advice to leave it all alone and just run to the woods.

That’s when I remember Peeta. I glance left, seeing a girl from District Seven, I think, who’s also looking in my direction. Beyond her is a tall, dark boy I’ve never really paid attention to other than to get out of his way. I think his name is Thresh.

I squint, frantically trying to locate Peeta. I finally spot him, the farthest tribute I can see to my right. He’s already got his eyes on me, and is shaking his head. Why? What’s he trying to tell me?

Suddenly, the bell is sounding, and there’s a flash of movement as the tributes all simultaneously leave their pedestals, most heading right for the cornucopia. I freeze, my body not reacting at all. I force myself to move, running in just close enough to snatch up a small blue backpack, and then I sprint in Peeta’s direction. I just manage to catch a glimpse of him disappearing into the woods, so I head that way.

About an hour later, I still haven’t caught up to Peeta, or seen any other tributes. Sounds of the bloodbath behind me have faded away now, and nothing but the occasional animal or bird or wind sounds now echo through the forest.

It would almost be peaceful, if I wasn’t where I was.

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, someone grabs my arm from behind. I let out a scream, and a hand slaps over my mouth. I struggle, but I’m not strong at the best of times.

“Calm down!” It’s Peeta’s voice. “It’s just me, y/n, jeez.”

I twist him off me and whirl to face him. My glare is almost enough to murder him right then and there. “Don’t scare me like that!” I hiss. “You idiot!” I hit him, half out of the fear bubbling inside of me and half out of relief he’s here and alive and with me.

“Sorry, my love,” Peeta replies, cracking a flirtatious smile. “I won’t do it again.”

I narrow my eyes at him, half annoyed and half embarrassed at how much relief is flooding inside of me at this sight of him, alive and well and here.

“Allies?” Peeta asks.

A laugh bubbles up, and surprises both of us. Peeta laughs too, but then shushes me. “Let’s not get killed just yet, okay?” he suggests. “I’d like to hang out with the love of my life first.”

And for some reason, I don’t even disagree.

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games #hunger games #thg #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark x reader fanfiction #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games fanfic #suzanne collins #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird

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olderthannetfic · 6 months

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You've encountered site changes over time as a fan elder, what do you make of Tumblr potentially being put out to pasture? Tumblr was my coming of age fan site, and im looking for advice to transition to the next thing with grace and less bitterness than I feel now.

Ahaha. God, you should have heard the howling about LJ. "Fandom is over!" "Never again shall we dwell in fandom's True Home!" etc.

Hell, this endless "only LJ was good" crap turns up in replies here on posts where I as OP have very clearly laid out why that's rose colored glasses nonsense and you can so make friends on tumblr, have a conversation on tumblr, etc.

I had my crabby phase about this during the transition from Yahoo Groups to LJ. A lot of the real olds had it over paper zines and the transition to the internet.

I don't know if reading these hilariously samey old posts would help. It does give perspective, I think.

As for what you should do, do what I did with Tumblr:

Look around to identify the Next Thing fandom is going to camp out on.

It may take a few guesses and some time to figure this out. You will likely not be an early adopter. Fandom was well established here by the time I joined at the end of 2010. Of course, by now, all those 2009 and before accounts are long gone, but at the time, I was a n00b joining other people's space despite having been in fandom for ages.

Don't expect to enjoy it

I didn't join tumblr because I liked it. In fact, I despised it. I kept right on despising it until a brief stint in Sherlock fandom, a fandom that was so active here at the time that I was able to finally see the good aspects of the site's structure and features.

This is the mistake a lot of people make. They give things a cursory try, don't enjoy them, and go "not for me", forgetting that the last site also had a steep learning curve that was either difficult or that they didn't notice because they were in a different phase of their life.

Bitterness and grief are, frankly, an inherent part of the process. You can try not to be a debbie downer in your public comments, but you can't just not feel those things during the awkward part of the transition. Sometimes, acting positive and cutting off excessively negative thoughts can make you feel less negative overall, but it doesn't happen immediately.

Accept that feeling cranky and old is both a you problem and a state of mind, not a property of the new site

Relatedly, the way we remember fandom platform X feeling usually has more to do with us being in college with fandom friends down the hall or having discovered Our People for the first time or some other time when we had a lot of energy and positive emotions. Often, we were in the throes of a first or new fandom love too, probably for some megafandom that other people also cared about at the same time.

When fandom is leaving some site, there's a grieving process anyway, but we're also often in a worse part of our lives for starting new things. We're busy. We're tired. We're between fandoms. We feel like we already paid our dues to build up our community. Why should we have to start again?

But let me tell you, you always need to start again eventually. I go to a weekly vidders' zoom chat, and a lot of the people in there are old as balls, including Kandy, the person who invented vidding back in the 70s. She's a lot of decades and a few cancers in, and she had to relearn how to vid on a computer after transitioning from slideshows to VCR vidding back in the day. If bad health, platform changes, and dead friends were going to stop her, she'd be long gone.

It's like sharks: you stop swimming, you die.

This isn't just about fandom, obviously. It's about avoiding a midlife crisis and, later, about avoiding feeling emotionally geriatric even when your body is falling apart.

Change gets us all, but being mentally old is a choice. The real reason I gave tumblr such a try was that I had been so resistant to getting on LJ. I was 20. Even a year later, it was fucking embarrassing to have been a crotchety old hag as a college student. I promised myself I'd soldier through the next change instead of dragging my feet about it. And it totally worked in the end! But boy did it not make the transition any less unpleasant emotionally!

Find your joy

As is obvious from the above, the vast majority of the problem is just emotions. Fandom has been on a million broken sites with shitty features. We go where the people are, regardless of whether it has the technological aspects we liked at the last place. The actual shape of that platform is largely irrelevant.

What does matter is whether we as an individual fan are still excited and happy about something. I was between fandoms recently and went looking around for BL series I hadn't watched yet. People kept suggesting things set in the present day with too-cheesy production values and too many banal schoolboys in modern day settings without even anything spicy going on. I realized that the BL/danmei scene wasn't really cutting it for me and I should go for production values and genre and non-canon ships. You probably scrolled annoyedly past the picspams that resulted.

(Of course, hilariously, someone has now shown me the trailer of Red Peafowl, so someone may be making BL that feels like it's for me after all. Look at all that badwrong and very dark color grading.)

When you're in a good place emotionally, it's a hell of a lot easier to weather any change, and when you have a new fandom, it's a lot easier to connect with other fans.

A lot of people wait around for lightning to strike twice. They found their first fandom by accident, and they expect it to happen seamlessly again. For me, it's far more productive to brute force it: collect up a big list of what's popular or what's new and go through it till you find things you might like, then try them all.

And part of this, obviously, is not waiting for other fans to make the party happen. The more you need to join something other people are already doing, the less choice you'll have in fandoms or in platforms. If you aren't picky and just go where the tropey longfic is, that can work, but even then, favorite authors disappear or go to fandoms you hate and former megafandoms dry up. If you're the one bringing the party, it's a lot easier to find a new fandom or platform or community to have fun in.

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tothepointofinsanity · 6 months

Text

Observation Log Series: Sayaka [III]

Today on: Visual metaphors for depression and the actual “magic of friendship”.

Images are taken from this Magia Record game video on YouTube.

I am pretty sure someone else in the ages past had already covered this bit, so I suppose I will add this to the archives for my own documentation purpose. Or for just anyone who feels like reading it, really.

Sayaka’s magical girl transformation in this sequence is very interesting. There are a lot of jokes about how she’s yeeted everywhere by the Holy Quintet in her own transformation, so here are the notes:

The beginning of her transformation is shot in the sequence of a downward spiral. Sayaka falls through the hoops and into the ocean as her opening, a reference to her descent into madness (keep in mind: the sea as a metaphor for an inescapable expanse of darkness; the abyss) in the main show, as well as her deteriorating mental health. The spiral drawn to resemble piano keys (🎹) is also no coincidence, but they break apart when Sayaka plummets past them, much like music becoming discordant and incoherent.

Right after that, she gets thrown around respectively by her friends, each of whom gets her to the destination of being fully transformed. What is important to notice is that for the majority of this part, you cannot see Sayaka’s face, and she appears completely indifferent and motionless as others pass her around without hassle. You would think someone like Sayaka, who typically exhibits stubborn tendencies, would be resistant to being literally thrown around, but I feel that there are reasons for this:

• Sayaka being shown not as weightless, but rather as something heavy that makes an impact wherever she goes. She’s literally dead weight in the water despite her Witch being a mermaid. There is no attempt whatsoever we see from her where she tries to swim gracefully or float naturally in the sea. She just seems to be…there, being moved rather than performing her transformation by herself like all the other magical girls.

• The Holy Quintet are the essence of friendship that help Sayaka not necessarily out of her depression, but rather giving her a massive boost by flinging her to the next appropriate person. Given she is portrayed as dead weight, she doesn’t transform manually and do fancy dances, instead heavily reliant on the support of the crew to help her get changed. The sequence where she’s thrown onto the bed and lies there before being flung out again is very reminiscent of the tragedy that individuals struggling with mental health problems can barely get out of bed on their own at times, even to the point where it seems they might never leave said bed. Homura has to pick up Sayaka in a bag before tossing her to Kyoko, where it unfurls and it becomes her cape.

It is also interesting to note that the bed is surrounded by mirrors of all sizes and shapes that don’t reflect Sayaka at all, but rather the oceanic creatures and environment. Her self image is nonexistent and replaced by the sea. When she’s thrown to Kyoko, it is only then she is “stopped”, and we finally get to see her face. Her hair is long, unlike the appearance of her short hair that we are used to. Kyoko helps her with the last part of her transformation by putting on the gold hair pin.

Kyoko being the one to not throw Sayaka but rather casually stop said impact is likely symbolic of their relationship. The ocean is stopped by the unmovable rock.

• In the very last part, Sayaka appears standing on a platform that arises from the sea, and only then she seems fully refreshed and ready to go. Once again, instead of swirling out of the water or something, she needs something solid to stand on and raise her to the surface as she is incapable of doing so herself. Her entire transformation seems to highlight that others need to be on standby to support her, or else she will likely just dwindle and sink motionlessly to the bottom of the ocean. By the way she’s posed, it also seems to imply that she has complete trust in her friends, who were there at every turn to assist her transformation.

Something else I thought about as well is the irony that despite being mermaid coded in terms of her own Witch and backstory, Sayaka is almost always portrayed as a sinking vessel the moment she hits the water. A finless mermaid, yet frustratingly a mermaid that cannot even swim or float. I find that this interpretation would fit into the existing narrative that Sayaka and the Incubators view her as useless or inadequate. What good a mermaid who sinks in the sea? What good a magical girl who needs others to help her transform proper? Noting that Sayaka’s transformation always involves her emerging out of water seems to tell us that she has always pulled her weight out of the abyss by herself.

TLDR: It wouldn’t hurt to show that Sayaka requires support from everyone in order to do her best.

#Sayaka Archives #madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #magical girl #pmmm #pmmm sayaka #sayaka miki #mahou shoujo madoka magica #magia record

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trippingontheescalator · 2 months

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Curious about the direction the HP fandom has gone

Okay, so as an old HP fan from way back when the books were first coming out, and then getting hit with the nostalgia and decided to return after years and years of not interacting with the fandom at all, the changes are truly mindboggling and I'd love to get to the bottom of some things.

Like, the disappearance of Blaise Zabini. Blaise was a fan favorite way back when we only knew his name but now I barely hear a whisper of his name. Now, the obvious answer is racism, which I think is the #1 reason why Blaise-pairings have dropped of significantly. Back then we all thought Blaise was a hot Italian girl, and then we found out he's a black man and suddenly people stop writing about him? Hm, yeah, seems the obvious answer (especially considering the popularity of other characters who are just a name on a page *cough*regulusblack*cough*).

Or the rise in Snape-hate. Like, Snape used to be the fan favorite. Everyone loved Snape. The meaner he was, the more we liked him. Being mean to children was a plus, not a negative lol. And this was back when we all thought he was a pureblood who came from a wealthy family like the Malfoys. Now by the time the 7th book came out I had pretty much moved on and so I didn't really see the fallout of readers discovering his actual background, so I don't know if his drop in popularity is classism and learning that he isn't a palette-swapped Lucius Malfoy or not, but honestly I would figure his impoverished background would be a plus in these times. Like Snape is obviously one of JKR's least favorite characters, and considering how she-who-must-not-be-named has destroyed her reputation with her increasing radicalization you'd figure the poor, abused, author-hating character would become more beloved instead of the rich, white, heteronormative bullies who barely even show up in the books. Like with our increasing knowledge of social injustice, I just don't understand why the fandom would want to latch onto the Marauders? And I just can't believe Snape's handful of snippets with Lily is the cause of his downfall (like what's there is barely enough to fill up a few pages, and there are certainly more toxic relationships in the series that are still beloved), or the fact that he was a Death Eater or that he inadvertently caused the deaths of the Potters (we already knew that in GoF and HPB respectively and he was still beloved, and this was when we assumed he didn't give a shit about the Potters or if they died when he went snitching). Draco is still popular. DRACO who doesn't give two shits about slinging around the word "mudblood," as opposed to Snape who actually changed for the better.

Am I just too old to understand? Is this like 90s fashion coming back in style (no, I won't do it again, I don't care if it's cringy I'm sticking with my millennial styles, I did the platforms and the slip dresses and the cargo pants in high school and I'm not putting myself through that again lol you gen z's can pry my comfortable mom jeans from my cold, dead fingers, I don't care if it makes me look old, that's the point, I AM old). Like, in addition to 90s fashion, has the 90s obsession with luxury athletic fashion like Lacoste come back in style? All those fashion ads of rich white people on yachts with popped collar polos? Are people starting to obsess over the Marauders because nouveau riche conspicuous consumption is coming back in style? It can't all just be young kids who have only read AtYD and have never actually opened one of the books, can it?

There also seems to be a trend of treating characters as if they're real people. I mean, we've always done it (Snape Wives, I'm looking at you), but now it almost feels as if the crimes characters commit are treated as if they're real crimes and that liking them is somehow a moral failing on the reader's fault. If you were to say "I don't like Snape, his douchy actions anger me, I'd rather skip all the parts he shows up in" I'd say, cool, I get that. That's normal. But "Snape is an abuser, a racist, and an incel and if you like him you're probably those things too" is fucking weird. Like, Harry and Hermione are not real children. Snape is not a real person. The things that happen in this book have as much influence on the real world as me imagining ninjas breaking into my workplace on a slow day. And that "media does not exist in a vacuum" pisses me off because it's blatantly misused. The pieces of media that have had serious consequences? Jaws, The Birth of a Nation. One resulted in the culling of sharks, the other helped restart the KKK. Do you know what those two pieces of media have in common? They're not about fucking wizards and magic schools. They instead paint a target on real groups. After twenty years nobody has ever tried to hurt a marginalized group of people because of a harry potter book (except for JKR herself).

Anyway, these are just some random thoughts, feel free to chime in with your own.

#pro snape #severus snape #pro severus snape #snapedom #mostly snape some blaise #would love to hear form some marauders fans but im not touching that tag with a ten foot pole #yikes

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darnell-la · 1 year

Note

If your taking requests could you write buzzcut!Rafe cameron x reader smut

Buzzcut!rafe eating reader out and not stopping. Like just going at it and she tries to pull him away to calm down a little but because his hair is buzzed she can't (and Rafe taking full advantage of it

-🍷🍷

As always, instead of y/n I’ll be using Scotlynn who is one of the owners of this Tumblr account.

word count: 1.9k

paring: buzzcut!Rafe Cameron x Reader

————————————————————————

SCOTLYNS POV

“I’ll be at the house in five minutes. Be ready because the boys wanna do shots soon,” Rafe said through the phone. I can hear him speeding as always on his motorcycle. “Okay babe,” I said before hanging up.

I slipped on my platform shoes after fixing my cute socks that match the vibe I want my outfit to give off. My mini skirt and slightly cropped shirt go with everything.

Rafe loves the way I dress but sometimes he had his days where he hates that I have to walk out of my house with it. One day he’s “I’ll beat you if you look at her,” then the next day he’s “Who are you dressing up for? If he looks at you, I’ll kill him,”.

I smiled at the thought of Rafe, the finest guy around here, being obsessed and angry at me for looking too good. He never shows his emotion. Not even towards his latest girls but me, he can’t control not to.

Less than five minutes passed and I hit a text from Rafe saying “cmon out babe,”. I smiled at the text, excited to finally see his haircut since he wouldn’t send me a picture or video that I asked for before he went.

I grabbed my mini purse that goes over my shoulder then walked out of my house, tip-toeing quickly to Rafe’s motorcycle.

“Show me please!” I said, excited as I jumped up and down in front of him. He got off his bike and slowly pulled off his helmet. Wow. I wasn’t expecting him to actually look good with a buzz cut. This suits him. A lot.

“Do I look good, princess?” He asked, snapping me out of any thought that I had. “You look more than good,” I said as I softly pulled him into a quick kiss.

“As long as you like it, we’re all good here,” he said as he handed me my helmet while he looked me up and down. “Why the outfit?” He asked. “I literally sent you the layout of it, Rafe,” I said.

“Yeah, without you in it. Looks small as fuck and you know that,” he said then hopped on his bike. “Who the fuck do you dress like that for anyways? Like I can’t figure it out. Is it JJ?” He asked.

“Like, I stopped fucking with him and his friends for you because you’re not into that Kook versus Pogue shit, but he’s been getting very talkative with you,” Rafe kept going, not even letting me answer.

“Like seriously Scotlyn. Is the way I fuck you not enough?” He genuinely asked, getting angry already. Everyone here knows that Rafe Cameron has anger issues. He tries to keep them in a low for me but I know.

“Rafe, it’s not for anyone, okay? I like my style and if you don’t-“ I tried saying but he cut me off. “And if I don’t, what!? Finish that sentence, I dare you,” Rafe glared.

I rolled my eyes before placing my helmet on my head. “Don’t start with that shit,” Rafe said as he put his on. He wanted me to wrap my hand around his waist tight enough before taking off.

“Is he good?” Sarah asked, looking at her brother get more hyped than usual, beating some random dude in beer pong. I’ve been keeping track of how much he drinks and what he’s drinking so I don’t get why he’s acting like he’s on steroids.

“He’s not the snow anymore, right?” Sarah asked, just as confused just as I am. “He’s not. I would be able to tell if he was,” I said and Sarah agreed. “You should check in on him while I got back out,” Sarah said as she backed up to leave the house.

I sighed then started making my way over to Rafe who was shouting with his friends. He barely drank his beer and didn’t even take the shit with Topper like he was rushing here to get to.

“Babe, can we get something to drink please?” I asked, only trying to get him away from everyone so he won’t act out. “Let me make this last shot, babe,” Rafe said.

Rafe rubbed the ping pong ball in his hand as he moved in front of the table. He kept his eyes on me the whole time. He glared behind me a few times, probably at some dude looking at me.

As I was walking up, I already saw a bunch of college boys tapping their friend's shoulders to point me out. I just hope Rafe remembers what I said about dressing for myself and not for anyone else.

Rafe finally threw the ball and magically made it with his eyes still on me. This boy’s full of surprises sometimes. And he’s definitely trying to show off in front of me.

“Do I get a prize, babe?” Rafe asked as he made his way over to me. He softly grabbed my face and pulled me into a nice kiss. I smiled as his friends hyped him up.

My heart skipped a beat after I felt him smirk in between our kisses. His right hand slowly moved down my body and gripped my ass, causing me to be pulled to my tippy toes. He knows I love that…

“Babe,” I giggled as I pulled away. “You’re the best prize I’ve ever had. And no one else can have you,” he smiled at me but his smile soon faded away when his eyes locked with someone behind me.

“Meaning you especially. Don’t fucking look at my girl's ass again unless you want your jaw hanging on your fucking neck,” Rafe aggressively said as his hands balled up on the side of his hip.

“Rafe! Calm down, okay?” I said as I rubbed his chest. “Better listen to your bitch,” the guy said. Rafe went to attack him but I got in his way. “Leave it! Leave it. Don’t call me a bitch, okay? I don’t even know you,” I said as I turned to look at the boy.

“I can get to know you. By the way, you’re dressed, it probably would be quick and easy,” he said. That set Rafe off. Rafe pushed me to the side, harshly but still softly somehow, and swung at the boy who wasn’t expecting Rafe to go off so fast.

“Rafe!” I covered my mouth at the sight of Rafe beating someone up for disrespecting me. I want to pull him off but at the same time, watching someone fight someone I couldn’t because they’re way bigger than me, if something I can’t just stop.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, huh? Huh, bitch!? I’ll fucking- Don’t you fucking disrespect my girl again. I’ll fucking rip your face skin on my motorcycle tire,” Rafe threatened before throwing a few more punches and then getting up.

“Rafe,” I mumbled as I looked down at the boy who was grabbing his face. He doesn’t look as bad as I thought he’d look but Rafe still fucked him up.

“Let’s go,” Rafe said as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me with him. I turned back to look at the boy who was still on the floor until Rafe stopped and pulled me in front of him and grabbed my face to look at him.

“What are you looking back? You care about him or something?” Rafe asked. “What? No! No, he just- Rafe, you really fucked him up,” I said. “I know and you seem unhappy about it. You’re ungrateful,” he said as his grip on my face tightened.

“I got something for that,” he said before grabbing my wrist again and pulling me passed a few of my friends, out of the party and towards his motorcycle.

“I swear I don’t care about him, Rafe! I swear!” I cried out as his face buried deeper into my thighs while I grabbed the pillows behind my head. He won’t listen to me.

When we got to his house, he pulled me to his room and ripped my mini-skirt off, and went in. He said I was ungrateful because he hasn’t given me a solid orgasm in weeks but that’s not true. He’s just making things up in his mind to overstimulate me. He likes doing that to me. He likes watching me cry for him.

“Rafe, please! Fuck!” I felt the knot in my stomach builds up. “Grateful yet baby?” Rafe asked in between sucking on my clit. “Y-Yes, yes! I swear I’ve — Fuck! I swear I’ve been grateful. I’m always grateful,” I moaned.

“Still doesn’t seem like it,” he said. “Shit, Rafe! Rafe, please slow down. Please, I can’t take it,” I sobbed at how good he was eating me. He never misses.

“You’re gonna take whatever the fuck I want you to. You’re gonna understand I’m the only motherfucker who can make those pathetic moans come out of you,” Rafe dived into me rougher than before, causing my eyes to roll to the back of my head.

“F-Fuuuck! Fuck, Rafe, fuck!” I basically screamed as my back arched and my ass flexed at the hard orgasm crashing over my weak body as he smirked at my folds.

“O-Off, off, off!” I cried as my legs began to shake. “Rafe!! Get off!!” I screamed as I started pushing his head again but my hands kept slipping. I wondered why until I looked down and remembered that Rafe had cut his hair.

“Rafe!” I whined as I tried gripping his hair to pull him off like I usually do but it’s not working. Rafe laughed at my attempts, only making me cry more at the advantage he has over me. He knows that I know that he won’t stop. He loves that I know he does whatever he wants to me.

“C-Cumming! I’m cumming!” I sobbed as I threw my head back. Tears ran down my face as my body shook for maybe the 6th time tonight. He keeps sucking me dry just to make me make a mess again.

Rafe pulled away from me after forcing me through my orgasm, only to taunt me. “Think you had enough, baby?” He asked as he towered over me. “Think I’m better than your little bitch boys who stalk your ass every patty we go to?” He asked.

“You think that pussy fell apart enough to understand who it belongs to or do I have to fuck my cum into you throughout the whole night till the only thing you’re pissing out is load,” he makes me want to say yes but I only I wouldn’t be able to take it. I would probably pass out if he’d continued on me.

“I-I understand. I just need a break,” My legs still shook as I spoke. “What do you say?” He asked. “Th-Thank you,” I breathed out as he hovered over me with his seductive facial expression. He makes me melt.

“That’s my good girl. You know you’re my good girl, right?” He asked and I nodded with a hum. “Yeah — And I want every single boy out there to know how good you are for me and how good I am for you,” he said.

“And if it takes me to set up my room and make a full movie of me filling every single tight and wet hole in your body several times, I’ll fucking do it. For you. For our love, baby,” Rafe said before kissing me softly.

It’s always been a turn-on to me that Rafe is very obsessed with me. Everyone says he treats me differently than any girl he’s been with. He’s honestly never been with anyone he’s told me. It was just out of boredom. That’s why he shows me off. To make sure people know he’s serious about me. It’s everything I could possibly ask for.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #buzzcut!rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe fic #outer banks smut #overprotective!rafe cameron

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

OH GOD YOUR REQS R OPEN, i would rlly like to request something, could you write an one shot of price with a little daugther reader? just like, him coming home and spending some time with his little girl, she tells him about her school, he tells her some funny stories that happened while he was at work, he cooks her favorite meal, just a big fluff, i love this man more than anything and i just need some paternal love LMAO, feel totally free to deny! do everything in your time and remember to take good care of urself!

Memories of Youth

Pairing: Father!John Price x F!Daughter!Reader

Synopsis: It was hard being away from his little girl, but warm mornings spent in each other's company were blessings - even if they were far and few in between. It didn't matter the form.

Word Count: 4.5k (short and sweet)

Warnings: Angst (just a little cuz I can't help myself), a lotta fluff, banter, just good platonic/paternal relationship in general, etc.

A/N: Didn't specify if the reader was adopted or blood-related, so that's really up to you! Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

He got the call at the halfway point of crossing the English Channel, Northern France behind him and Southern England just on the horizon line as the sun began to spread its orange glow over the waves. Sitting high above the water in a slick black Heli, John Price’s hand snaps to his side pocket, fingers deftly peeling back the layers as the overwhelming sound of helicopter blades shakes the hull.

The rest of Task Force 141 watch with varying interest, only Gaz taking notice of the sudden frown that mars his Captain’s face; the furrowed brow, and the spark of concern in his eyes. A call was unusual. The Sargeant tries not to intrude, but can’t help the way his body lightly shifts so he can have a better view.

John doesn't bother to look at the contact when he takes the device out, rapidly pressing the answer button and slotting the phone at his ear, tilting his head so his opposite rests at the junction of his shoulder. It only stops a fraction of the noise, even so, it would have to do for now. But with how his ears were already straining to find a sound over the line, he may not need to force out the jarring racket after all.

Inside his chest, John’s heart is racing – confusion laces his mind. This was abnormal.

I told her only to call if it was an emergency. What could she have gotten herself into now? I said to stay out of trouble…

“Where are you?!” The Brit has to shout down the line, his familiar deep accent loud and guttural.

His mind flies through every possibility. An intruder had broken into the house, you had broken your arm falling down the stairs again, or a fire had broken out in the kitchen. Fuck…he was too far away to help if anything bad had happened. John’s jaw clenches, eyes looking out over the water as the bucket hat on his head flops in the wind. It was only a product of his job that made him think like that; years of intuition and thinking on the fly leading to his mind making up the worst scenarios.

Especially when you called on a secure line when he told you it was only appropriate for life-and-death situations. Especially when it was his little girl.

I told ‘er about the Pistol in my office, yeah? The Captain asks himself with a steel-like resolve. And gave her Laswell’s number?

John’s fingers tighten over the phone when he hears your breath over the line, a shuffling of clothes, and a deep exhale.

“Sunshine!” He tries again, sitting up straighter as his pulse gets faster. Why isn’t she answering me? “Where are you right–”

“We don’t have anything for breakfast.” Your voice is heavy with sleep; fatigue drowning the syllables and holding them under the very waves that rage under John only separated by thin sheets of metal.

The Brit stops. His body freezes, and as the tense minutes go by his panic falls away and leaves a thick stain of annoyance resting behind his eyelids. Of course. John brings two fingers to his nose bridge, digging into the skin until tiny crescent moons are left behind; he has to take a deep breath before answering, but his tone leaves nothing to the imagination.

“...Breakfast…?”

“Yeah, Old Man, you need me to spell it for you? B-R-E-A-K-F-A–”

“Enough!” John barks stiffly and has to hold back his anger as you laugh from the other side. Ever the jokester – did you not realize how serious this was? How fast your father’s heart was racing with adrenaline?

Fuck, he had just about been ready to radio the cockpit and force the pilots to fly faster.

Across the way, Ghost locks eyes with the man, and with a tilt of his head and a loud call he asks, “That the Mutt?”

The Captain’s eyes slip back into a firm blank slate.

“Affirm.” John tilts the phone away from his mouth, ignoring your sarcastic comments to catch his sanity for a moment and respond to his Lieutenant.

Simon blinks as Johnny perks up at his side, looking in from the view in favor of the Captain with newfound interest. A bright smile forms over his scruffy cheeks

“She all good?” The skeletal man asks, and Gaz smirks lazily tapping his fingers over his knee, immediately noticing your shenanigans and the way the Cap was so worked up.

But anyone would be when they had a daughter thousands of miles away.

John simply nods once with an exasperated expression to Ghost. MacTavish snorts out a laugh, knowing the context of the situation without having to think hard.

“Is that Uncle Simon?” You ask, and with a scratch at his beard, your father hums in confirmation, letting the sound of your voice put him more at ease. She’s just fine. “Tell him I want him to come over and play Mario Cart with Gaz, Johnny, and me again! He wiped the floor with ‘em last time!”

There’s a clinking of pots and pans as you move throughout the house.

“Sweetheart,” Your father grumbles, sighing through the call. His voice takes on the authoritative tone that works for both soldiers and teenagers – but it rarely works on you, despite that fact. Took after your dad too much, is what John would say. Never listened until it was absolutely necessary. “What did I tell you about callin’ this phone when I’m away from the house?”

He hears your scoff and raises a warning eyebrow, though you can’t see it. You know your dad enough to know he’s doing it despite being separated. It was pretty common.

“Not to, unless it’s an emergency…But I’d say food is a big enough reason, y’know? Unless you want me to eat the leftover cake for breakfast – which I haven’t thrown out as a possibility yet, honestly.”

“You’re not eatin’ bloody cake for breakfast. You’ll get sick.” Gaz snickers, turning his face away to hide the amusement at the comment.

It hadn’t been a surprise that the Captain’s daughter was such a familiar creature – they saw traits reflected every time the two were together. Everyone had expected her to take after her old man in nearly everything, and when she had they had bumped fists and prayed for the brown-bearded man. But it was funny nonetheless, considering they got along better than most fathers and daughters; practically reading each other's minds when everyone was playing poker. Johnny was still pretty ticked off about that – he’s a good deal deep into the sweets debt he owes you because Price helps you win. But where they really shined was with the shared deadpan attitudes, bottom-of-the-barrel sarcasm, and knowing how to command a room without even trying. Safe to assume that the rest of the team would do anything for you.

“Will not.” You grumble in retaliation, and John’s lips threaten to tilt into a grumpy smile when he hears you put the cake plate back into the counter.

Letting the tension fall from his shoulders, the brown-haired man takes a glance outside, watching the waves go bright orange as they lap and writhe like great sea serpents.

“How long have you been up, eh? The sun’s barely risen. Thought Sunday was when you always slept in?”

There’s a pause in what John believed were fingers digging through a cupboard, and he narrows his eyes in confusion as the silence grows long. He frowns when you speak again, words so quiet he has to place a hand over his other ear to hear properly. Having half a mind to go and tell the pilots to hurry up and go faster so he can just talk to his little girl in person, he refrains, knowing that’s not how this works. But something was wrong – it had been laced in your previous words, as tiny and unnoticeable as it may have been. Only a father would notice it.

“You said you were gonna be home last night. I stayed up.” It takes a moment of halted breathing before John’s eyes widen, blues full of realization.

Oh.

…Damn it. He lets out the tense breath of air from his lips, shifting in his seat as the gear around his body weighs him down. His gun digs into his chest.

He hadn't seen you for over a week – leaving you in the care of a close and trusted neighbor, Mrs. Lilly, just as he always had when he needed to leave for work on short notice. But seeing as you were older now, it became apparent that, with your learned independence, staying at the house by yourself was alright as long as you checked in with the neighbor every morning and night. You had been waiting for him to come home. All alone. In the dark.

Fucken’ hell, John thinks in a deep layer of guilt as wrinkles overtake his forehead, I did tell her I’d be back yesterday. I forgot to call and tell ‘er. Shit! He didn’t want to imagine the stress that had been put on your shoulders. God, what’ve I done?

Not checking in was something he had never missed before – he always told you when he was about to come back. What had gone wrong this time? How had something that important just slipped his mind? Sure the Op had been tedious, but he was trained to handle it. It was no excuse.

“Sweetheart,” John starts and then pauses the soft and gentle endearment, knowing that an apology didn’t fit into what you were looking for. You didn’t want an ‘I’m sorry’ right now, you wanted your father. Flattening his lips into a line, he continues, wishing he was with you more than ever so he can press a kiss to your forehead. “...I should be back before 1200. How about when I get back I’ll cook you up somethin’ myself, yeah? Or we can go to that Cafe you like down on Newman Street and I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“...When do you have to go back?” You don’t answer his question, and yours makes his heart hurt.

John clears his throat.

“None of that, now. We’ll talk more when I get back, Darling, alright?” You don’t respond, but he hears you sigh and quietly scoff under your breath. “Alright?” He tries again, head tilting forward and eyebrows rising as if you could see him. Maybe you could.

“Fine. But you better make me pancakes. I don’t care if it’ll be noon.”

“Pancakes it is.” The Captain looks up in time to see Johnny mouthing words to him, and with a blank face and stiff lip, your father mutters with a grunt, “Johnny says ‘hello.’”

Your shocked snort makes him feel better, but a layer of guilt still stays. You were awake all night waiting for him, and he never showed up. Did you sleep on the couch? Damnit, he hoped you didn’t…but in his rattling chest knew you had. He found you like that every time he came back from a long stay away. Huddled under blankets, no pillow under your head. Sometimes you steal one of his shirts and hold it like a stuffed bear to your chest, shoving your face into it.

How could I forget to fucken’ call her?

Your voice takes him out of his growing self-resentment.

“Tell him to watch his back – I’m getting better at Rainbow Road. Soon enough I’ll be able to beat him in a 1V1!” John can’t help the slow chuckle that bounces in his throat, mind, for the moment, at ease as long as you continue to speak to him.

“I’ll be sure to pass it along. But, eh,” The Brit makes sure he speaks slowly, letting you hear every syllable of his next words. “Promise me you’ll stay at the house until I get there. No goin’ out with friends, yeah? You know how I worry.” John ignores the teasing look from Gaz and peeks out again to see how close they were to the mainland with narrowed lids. “‘Specially when I’m not there.”

Getting back to the Base wasn’t the problem, it was the damn reports coming in that would wring his neck before he could get out the door. But he’d push it off for however long he could; call in favors from Laswell to get him more time with his little girl so he can fix his mistake. As a dad, the only thing that counted was seeing his daughter after a seemingly unending Op that he didn’t want to relive. The hardest part wasn’t the blood or the guts – it was being away from you. Nothing would ever change that, even if he was the one on the ground gritting his teeth at the bite of a bullet.

“Scout’s honor, Old Man.” The happiness in your voice makes him smile to himself.

“Stop calling me that, Muppet.” John grumbles affectionately, rolling his eyes, “I’ll give you a call when back I’m in town, Sunshine. Make sure the door’s locked–”

“--Locked, the windows too, plus, if someone knocks on the door I need to look through the peephole and if I don’t recognize them don’t open it…Am I missing anything?”

“Mind yourself, now you’re just being cheeky, you are.” John teases, scoffing, but proud that you remembered his rules. It made all of this just a bit more manageable.

“Who do you think I got it from?” You laugh, but it tapers off sullenly, “Just…get home safe, okay, Dad?”

John’s beard pulls back into a soft close-lipped grin, eyes crinkling as his heart warms. He so desperately wanted to ruffle your hair.

“Of course, Hun. But, eh, take a nap. It’s still early, and I know you’ve got schoolwork to do later. You sound like you’re about to keel over where you stand.” You scoff before agreeing with a muttered grumble, most likely already stumbling to the living room couch, and then the line goes silent and is replaced once more by the whirring of the helicopter blades.

The man peels back the phone and pockets it, hand unconsciously brushing his breast pouch where a picture of the two of you always sits. It was a baby picture, with your little form held in his grip delicately; looking down at you with soft eyes and an easy smile on his lips that always formed when he was with you. From under a soft blanket, your tiny hand reaches out to try and brush his stubbily cheek.

It never failed to bring him ease when he realized the photo was there. A reminder that if everything else in his life went horribly wrong, you would still be looking up at him with those eyes of yours. At the very least, he had managed to do one thing right.

“She’ll be fine. She’s a good kid.” Gaz calls at him, and John spares him a glance out of the side of his eye with a raised brow.

“I know she is. I’m the one who raised her.”

—

You remember eating a piece of toast before you made your way over to the couch, throwing your phone to the coffee table haphazardly before tossing yourself onto the cushions. Still in your pajamas, you can’t find it in you to go and grab the homework in your backpack this early. The sun had only just risen, and the bags under your eyes reminded you how late you stayed up last night.

But your father had never shown up.

Frantic was too light a word to describe the feeling you had when your eyelids had peeled back to the empty living room and the TV still playing. It had been second nature to snatch your phone and call the secure line – half of you had said it was better to call Laswell, just in case, but your adolescent brain had wanted nothing more than to hear your father’s voice.

He would make it better. But you needed to hear his voice.

Dad, you remembered pleading to yourself as the sound of the dial tone echoed in your ear, please answer the phone. Please. Answer the fucking phone.

Your heart was pounding; hands shaking. He never just didn’t show up when he said he was going to. Never. Your dad was punctual – always on time no matter what – and he had ingrained the same sentiment in you as well.

When his deep voice finally bounced in your eardrums you nearly started to cry, missing the first hurried and concern-filled inquiry of where you were. Hearing his voice put you at ease, and after a week of missing your father’s strong presence and his warm hugs, it was hard not to take a shaky inhale when he seemed so close.

You just wanted him home; you wanted him to make you pancakes and help you with your schoolwork. You wanted him to read a book to you on this couch like you were a toddler again while his old record player was on in the background.

It was childish, getting so worked up about it, but your dad meant the world to you. Not having him here felt wrong.

Sighing, you rub at your eyes and revel in the darkness before letting out a strained yawn, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and pulling it over your body. It didn’t take long before your eyes were flickering shut, a calm quiet settling over the house as cars passed by outside in the street. You pull the blanket closer and breathe, inhaling pine needles and ash.

You don’t know how long you were there, twitching in your sleep before the scent woke you up – it makes your nose scrunch, eyelids blinking away fuzz. There was a pillow under your head, the blanket wrapped tight around your neck to keep out the London chill, and a clanking of pans in the kitchen. Scraping spatula over cast iron, you knew, the sizzling of batter.

The haze of that in-between state, sleep and consciousness fighting in the back of your skull and under your hairline, stays even as you try to force it away. It was like a wave – it constantly pulled you under when you thought you were getting to the surface. Your eyes would blink open and closed; comforted back into sleep by the deep humming, the waver of an old record player. Feet over hardwood and the smell of fresh pancakes.

Dad’s home.

A delirious smile slides over your sleep-hot face. That was why you were so content. This was what home sounded and smelled like.

Dad’s home. You repeat it once more, nuzzling farther into your father's travel pillow he brings to and from Base. Pine needles. Ash. Cigar smoke.

Dad’s home! Your eyes snap open wildly, your body shooting up from the cushions as the blanket falls to the floor. Angling your head to the separated kitchen, you swipe the drool from your mouth with a heavy hand and listen.

Your dreams had tricked you before, but no. Not this time.

He was humming along to some old tune under his breath that mirrored the record player behind the couch; the antique turned low so it wouldn’t wake you. Blinking in shock, your mouth morphs into a rich smile instantaneously.

Throwing yourself off the couch, your feet slam to the floor, rushing and almost tripping over the blanket on the floor as your body slants forward. Giggling, you push on, righting yourself with no second thought other than welcoming your dad home the same as you always did. Zipping around the corner, a shadow is already turning your way, a plate of pancakes ready to be put on the table and devoured.

“Dad!” You yell loudly and launch yourself at him, hearing his chest let out a grunt and his hands splay around you so he won’t drop breakfast food all over the floor.

A velvety chuckle is wrung from his body, and his free digits go to rest heavily on your head as you shove yourself into his hold. Gripping his shirt tight between your fingers, you try not to cry when that scent that had been fading from the house comes back tenfold. Your eyes burn, but you only let one tear out when your dad’s finger begins stroking your hair just like he did when you were little.

You had been so worried.

“There’s my girl,” His voice whispers out, “I’m here, Sunshine. Easy now.”

“I thought you died,” You can’t help the helpless gasp that rips from you. Your father’s hand freezes; body going rigid around your smaller, desperately grasping frame. The atmosphere of the room flips. Digging into the fabric of his shirt the full flood of tears finally comes forward. “W-when I woke up and you weren’t here I… I thought you were never coming back home, and that I would have to go and live with the neighbors and I’d have to bury you in the cemetery. I don’t-don’t wanna have to put you in the ground.” You’re rambling, but you can’t stop the words. “I don’t want you to leave me alone, Dad. Please don’t leave me alone.”

At some point, the plate of pancakes had been tossed to the counter without care for if the porcelain cracked from the force, and both of your father's arms hand scooped you into his hold effortlessly. Your breath was hiccuping violently, tears making his shirt wet and sticking to his skin.

But John didn’t care.

He wrapped his arms around you and curled his body in, taking you into a hold so warm and tight you couldn’t leave it even if you tried.

What’ve I done? The man feels his lips tense, blinking down at your shaking body with guilt as you sob. Oh, my Little Girl, I’m so sorry. What’ve I done to you?

Had he never noticed the toll that this job was taking on you? John asked himself this in disgust as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, whispering words into your hair under his shaky breath. He hated when you cried because of him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love, alright? Look at me.” You don’t move your bruising grip, face still held away from sight as you gasp down frantic breaths. John’s voice gets firmer, “Sweetheart, I need you to look at me, yeah?”

Your tight fingers stutter, and your head barely shifts to the side, one red eye peeking up as he looks down at you with all the love he can muster without looking incredibly broken. He never wanted to see you cry again but knew that would be an impossible feat to accomplish – but he’d do his damndest to try.

“There she is.” John’s hand goes to your cheek, brushing away the saltwater with a calloused thumb as you sniffle. “Just keep those eyes on me, Little One.”

“...M’ not little anymore.” You grumble out, your cheeks heating even as your pulse slows as you focus on your dad's eyes. So soft the edges were nearly liquid; water that held your attention as they lapped across your form.

“To me, you’ll always be little. Can’t change that I’m afraid.” The man grunts out, tilting his head down at you and letting his eyes travel from concern to comfort. But that doesn’t change the present.

“I’m so sorry, Love,” Your father mutters, eyes flickering away from yours in guilt so rarely shown to others. He always prided himself on being strong, you knew, bearing the brunt of the weight. Apologies weren’t often verbally said until it truly mattered. “I should have called you. That’s all on me, that is. Bloody stupid to forget about, knowin’ how you wait up for me.”

Your lips thin to mimic your dad's, brows pulling close. But in your chest, your heart couldn’t be larger. You didn’t hold it against him, but you wished he could be here more often; not put himself in dangerous situations. Knowing as little as you did about your dad's actual job, you still knew it wasn’t entirely safe.

Maybe the two of you protected each other from the things unseen.

Your chest aches.

“...You’re funny lookin’ when you have to apologize. Like a kicked bear.” Pulling back your lips, a tiny smile lighting your face, and you look up at your dad with a sniffle in your nose.

His visage snaps to yours, eyebrows going high on his head in surprise, and hooded blue eyes widening. It takes a moment, but a smirk pushes back his beard when he sees the tears have stopped falling.

“Yeah?” John asks you, a grumble reverberating in his chest, “Now, y’know, that is just bloody rude, Sunshine. Thought I raised you better…And after I made you pancakes.”

Laughing, you pull back, stomach rumbling and nose twitching at the prospect of the nearly forgotten food. Slithering past your father, you snatch the plate and fork before rushing into the living room. Jumping on the couch you begin to cut into the carbs, piling pieces into your mouth and smiling at the taste. No one else could make them as your dad could.

The Brit comes not seconds later, a cup of tea held in his hand before he sits down next to you with a groan, stretching out and laying his socked feet on the coffee table next to your tossed phone from hours earlier. You giggle, suddenly leaning to his large frame and hearing him grunt in retaliation.

“Tell me a funny story,” You demand, listening to him sip his drink in the mid-morning glow that spreads outside the house and leaks in through the opened curtains. Birds sing outside, heard from the street.

Your dad hums, his beard tickling your scalp as he leans into you in turn, making you chuckle before he nuzzles against you kissing your head; leading to a larger exclamation of glee before you elbow his gut.

He laughs and answers with a smile in his voice.

“Hm, did I tell you ‘bout the time Gaz fell out of the Heli?”

You laugh, eating the rest of the pancake remnants; feeling incredibly happy and warm. There were many memories you loved of your dad and his recounting of stories fit many of them. He always kept out the gory bits – promising himself that he would never lead you down that path no matter what – and always opted for the many downright hilarious situations the rest of the 141 always seemed to get into.

“Yes, but tell me again. It’s funny, especially when you describe his face afterward! Like he–”

“Like he had shit his pants and didn’t want to tell me,” John chuckles, eyes squinted, looking down at you as you snuggle into his side. He wraps an arm over your shoulders, taking your empty plate with one hand and putting it on the side table before pulling you close and making sure his tea won’t spill. He feels your tiny, bird-like, heartbeat on his ribcage and knows that nothing could ever take you away from him. You would always be his little girl. “Yeah, Love, I remember that one. Now, let me start from the beginning…”

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blacklegsanjiii · 2 months

Text

Established Acesan in Warlord!Sanji would be so funny lmao

Like Ace is telling Jinbei all about his boyfriend and brother and Jinbei is processing the fact that he's Sanji's boyfriend and his little brother is Sanji's captain. And then Ace is taken for his execution and not long after Luffy is there with an army of their Impel Down escapees.

He fills Crocodile in on the way to Marineford and the hooked man looks so disappointed that their kid is dating a commander of the pirate who kicked his rookie ass. Like Crocodile is going to get shit for this so hard. Jinbei is already giving him a look that says it's the first thing he's going to do if they survive.

Crocodile blocking Doffy's foot from kicking him just looks up at his coparent and goes "Fire Fist is Sanji's boyfriend." And Doffy just pushes off his hook to fly at the admirals on the execution platform. Mihawk who is fighting Vista looks as Doffy strings a bunch of marines up and then sends them crashing into each other.

"The hell is going on!?" Mihawk yells.

"He's Sanji's boyfriend!" Doffy calls back while laughing which make Mihawk rip Yoru away from blocking Vista and slice several marines in an instant. The Whitebeard fleet becomes confused as Mihawk and Doffy start helping in their fight to save and free Ace and get him and Luffy to safety.

They succeed and Jinbei gets the brothers out as the other four stay to fight. The Warlords keep it hidden, even after Jinbei joins the crew because he sees how smitten Ace is with his kid. After Wano the crew is docked at an uninhabited island Jinbei just tells everyone he has some friends stopping by as well. And then the warlords show up. Two of which Luffy has beaten to smithereens and all of them are gearing up for a fight, except Sanji who looks angry and Jinbei who's smiling.

"Friendly! We're friendly!" Doffy laughs as Boa groans and kicks him off. Mihawk and Crocodile jump off the other.

"Listen, thanks for help at my execution but we have a warlord." Ace warns them.

"That's part of the problem, unfortunately." Crocodile says as he looks at Jinbei. "She has several of your bones to break on her list."

"I have done nothing." Jinbei smiles.

"Wrong, you've kept my child from me." Boa hisses.

"Wait, hold on." Usopp says.

"You have a kid?" Luffy asks Boa.

"Adopted." Boa smiles and as she goes to swoon she's strung up in Doflamingo's strings.

"Are we giving a shovel talk or not, there are more important things to be doing." Mihawk demands.

"Sure, shovel talk. Now Fire Fist-" Boa starts which makes the Strawhat crew start screaming questions, "we understand Sanji can set himself on fire-"

"Wait-" Crocodile interrupts.

"So just to make it very clear we will come after you if you hurt our son, got it?" Boa presses on with a sweet smile.

"Hey, Sanji-kun, what the fuck is going on?" Nami asks.

"These are the people I consider my parents, unfortunately for everyone involved." Sanji sighs.

"You good, Ace?" Luffy asks as he looks at Ace who is in a fighting stance but staring at the ground wide eyed with weak flames lapping at his body.

"No, I just had four warlords threaten me." Ace answers.

"I'm sorry I didn't think this would be how you found out, I thought you already knew. How did you not know?" Sanji says to Ace and then looks at Zoro.

"Well ghost girl was there-"

"Perona and I came to an agreement not to tell him unless he brought it up." Mihawk cuts him which makes Sanji yell in frustration and set his legs on fire.

"Oh, I see." Crocodile says. "Anna is going to love that."

#sanji x ace #ace x sanji #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #warlord!sanji #warlords #shichibukai #strawhat pirates #acesan #sanace

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redr0sewrites · 9 months

Text

Kafka (HSR) Headcanons

REQS R STILL OPEN<3 KAFKA IS SO PRETTY OMFG I LOVE WOMEN AUUUGH

🥀CW: Smut in the nsfw part, bondage, marking, overall kinky stuff, non-sexual nudity mentioned in the sfw part

🥀 minors dni with the nsfw portion

SFW:

god i love women

kafka is often very busy, so i see her love language as words of affirmation

she loves flirting with you and whispering sweet things in your ear just to watch you get flustered

she can often be very touchy and flirty, however if it makes you uncomfortable she is shockingly good with boundaries and will simply give you space why would u say no tho

she loves having your head in her lap while she plays with your hair

she enjoys taking baths with you, esp after long or difficult missions

she will go all out, she will light candles, put rose petals and bubbles in the water, epson salt cuz its soothing, anything you like. there WILL be romantic music playing softly in the background, i said what i said

she likes to give you back massages and will give you small kisses on the back of your neck

she is VERY protective of you, i wouldnt say to a super controlling level but enough where she gets jealous pretty easily

she is actually so bad at dropping hints like she will flirt with anyone and anything but the second she caught feelings for u she had no idea what to do

she legit just teased u and made fun of u, you would probably think she hated you for awhile until you figured out that she was obsessed with u

have u seen her fit? yall def share a closet

her clothes are your clothes and vice versa

seeing you in her clothes sets something off in her i swear

this often leads to steamy makeout sessions and yk what else

SHE LOVES DOING YOUR MAKEUP AND HAIR SHE WOULD HELP YOU GET READY EVERY DAY IF SHE COULD

she will also let you do hers, but not super often since shes kinda busy sometimes and doesnt want to take forever getting ready

the type of person who can walk for hours and hours forEVER in super tall heels/platforms or "walk it off" after literally being beaten to near death in battle but will complain for days if she gets even the tiniest paper cut

likes giving back hugs

this is random but i feel like she eoukd enjoy puzzles and word games

YALL R THE TYPE TO GO ON FANCY DATES YALL R THE BIGGEST POWER COUPLE EVER

she always, ALWAYS pays for u, holds the door for u, she will hold ur shoes if they're bothering u/she will carry u if she can, LITERALLY A MIX BETWEEN GENTLEMAN AND MILF BEHAVIOR

she will prob introduce u to the other stellaron hunters if u dont already work w them

her friends r ur friends now

yall have self care dates where u get ur nails, hair, and skin care done and go to fancy spas or get massages im too broke to do this idk what people actually do at a spa

overall amazing and wonderful we ignore the fact that shes insane bc its hot

NSFW:

here we gooo

switch energy SWITCH ENERGY

when shes more subby shes still in control, i feel like she would def be a power bottom at least

really enjoys commanding you and ordering you around, gets off on your obedience and your disobedience

HAIR PULLER

she WILL wear a strap and use toys on you, putting a vibrator to your clit/cock while your tied down and watching you squirm and whimper, using leg spreaders to hold ur legs apart while she eats u out/sucks u off, paddles, rods/dildos, thrusting vibrators, she has it ALL

if u dont have stereotypically "female" genitals/or even if u do, she will peg u. there is no escaping it. she will overstimulate you and she will fuck u until ur begging for her to stop, thighs shaking, chest heaving, sobbing and pleading for a break

IDK IF I SAID THIS ALREADY BUT SHE WILL TIE U DOWN AND SHE WILL USE INTRICATE AND PRETTY DESIGNS AND ROPES TO DO SO

she very much enjoys riding ur face, seeing your face covered in her slick below her... godd ur gonna be up the whole night

exhibitionist (i am prob spelling this wrong💀) SHE LIKES PRESSING U UP AGAINST WINDOWS WHILE THERES PEOPLE OUTSIDE AND FUCKING U FROM BEHIND WITH HER STRAP

"oh? your upset about them seeing us? so what? dont worry your pretty little head about trivial things like that dolly, i'll take care of everything for you~" *proceeds to fuck u until ur babbling and no more worried are forming in ur head*

into sensory play as well

ur tied down and blindfolded and she will blot hot air against ur cunt/cock, run an ice cube up and down ur thighs, leave hickeys or kisses on ur thighs, trace a feather around ur chest and trail it down ur abdomen, just above where u want her, so close but so, so far...

perhaps she has a mommy kink, but it would take a little while to discover it 👀

wears lingerie on a regular basis and will strip in front of u at the end of the day leaving u in flustered in shock she loves seeing u all flushed and embarrassed omg

tease teas tease sOO UNFAIR

WILL TEASE U FOR DAYS ON END JUST TO GET U TO SUBMIT

OVERALL THE PERFECTEST AND HOTTEST LOVER U CAN EVER IMAGINE

hi guys cant believe i just wrote this anyways can u tell i have a preference LMFAOO shes just so cool <3 i might have a type *side eyes kindael, kafka, rosaria, and all the other pink/red associated women who r also fucking insane that i simp for* sorry i havent been super active lately, i prob wont be for a little while im going on vacation. however, reqs are still open i am BEGGING for reqs lmao😭 hope u enjoyed! lmk of any errors/gendering issues, hope u enjoyed

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margoisthemoon2 · 11 months

Text

Hate // Miguel O’Hara x Spiderpunk x reader smut w/ plot

Word count: Idk I wasn’t keeping track but this is very long.

Warning. Smut. Fingering. Eating out. Rough. PIV sex. Porn w/ plot. Unprotected sex.

Note: OC is 20-22. Miguel is in his 30s. Hobie is 19-21. This story takes place before ATSV. Contains a bit of spoilers. If you haven’t watched the movie then idk what to say, just don’t get mad at me lol. Ummm I haven’t wrote smut in a while so bare with me plz. Also OC is black because i am and there needs to be more representation. Oc can look like whatever you want them to look like but i put height/weight in there already. Okay im sorry im done. Go read!!!!

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Let’s do this one last time.

Hey I’m spider woman or more so called Spider Riot. I’m 5’11, 130lbs. I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for 4yrs I’ve been the one and only spider woman of New York on Earth 1214. A year ago I was pulled into the spider-verse. Invited by Jessica Drew and taught by her also. Lets get to the real story.

My best bud and rocker; Hobie Brown or as i call him, Hobs. We met a few months into me being in the verse. Our similar style and life made us super close super fast and we have been inseparable since. “Hey hobs have you seen my guitar pic?” I asked. We was getting ready to rehearse a song and I was desperately looking for my red and black pik i had just a few minutes ago. “Why are you asking me its your stuff” Hobie says lazily strumming on his guitar. I look at him with an annoyed expression. “Wow your really no help you know that?” I say reaching under a couch digging around for my stuff “good” He says reaching behind him “is this it lad” he says holding up my exact pic “ah yes!! Thanks hobs” i say reaching for it and him pulling his hand farther away from my reach. “Gotta give me a kiss first” he says with a smirk on his face “Hardy har har give it hobs” i says snatching it from his hands “i just wanted to know if you would actually do it” he says walking to the back of our rehearsal room. I know that he likes me but I just don’t feel the same. He is a great guy and all but i have my eyes set on someone else… Miguel O’Hara. Miguels was a authoritative 6’7 man who i couldn’t help but fall for.

After rehearsal I, Hobie and a few other bandmates was hanging out in the living area chatting. It was getting late. I do a big yawn and stands up “looks like it’s my time to bounce guys” i say heading towards the door “ill come with you to make sure you get home safely” hobie goes and we both head out the door into the cool night air. We walk into an alleyway and i get out my watch and type in my destination, a portal opens up lighting up the area. “Same time tomorrow?” Hobie goes leaning against a wall “you betcha” i say stepping a foot into the portal. “Actually i need you both at HQ” a hologram of jess pops up behind hobie. “Its late and people have jobs” hobie goes turning around “and those people are not you or her” jess says looking over at me “Get over here asap its important” and with that Jessica’s hologram goes away and i sign “well I guess we have other plans” i go typing in Nueva York destination and Me and Hobie step in disappearing. We arrive at HQ and i immediately goes to throw up into the nearest trashcan. “I will always say this. I. Hate. Portal. Traveling.” I say a sick look on my face. “Well you go to and from my place all the time” hobie goes shoving me a but with his elbow, “yeah because I actually like you and your fun” i go poking his nose the sick feeling leaving my body as we arrive to Miguels ‘office’. We wait what seems like an eternity for miguel platform to lower to us. “By the gods i hate this” I whisper to hobie “I can hear you” Miguel goes as soon as his platform stops. He turns towards us. “How many times do I have to warn you both to cut it out with the constant traveling between earths” He says “In the past 6mths you both have totaled over 12,000 travels. Hobie more than Moxie” Miguel goes pinching the bridge of his nose and putting a hand on his hip. “Where are you going so much hobs” I jokingly say, hobie side eyed me “don’t worry ’bout it” he goes and looks back at Miguel. We watch as Miguel blabbers on about being a superhero and being more responsible. “You are dismissed” Miguel says we both turn around to walk away “Except for you Moxie” He says running a hand over his face. Hobie winks at me and walks away with jess. “What did i do now your highness?” I go rolling my eyes. When i focus back in miguel is standing in front if me. Close enough to reach up and touch. I look up making eye contact with him and feeling smaller than ever under his large frame. “Do you know that hobie is mainly going to your earth?” He says, i talk a gulp of air “No I didn’t. Why are you bringing it up?” I ask taking a step back, miguel puts both hands on his hips “I think you should find out for yourself. And please…please be safe Mox. You two might be friends but who knows what that kid is up to” Miguel goes pointing out into the distance. “Yeah…yeah ill keep an eye out. Thanks” i say feeling a small tingling in my cheeks. I turn to leave, looking back and seeing Miguel walking back to his platform. “Miguel being worried for me…..strange” i think seeing Hobie sitting down and kicking up his feet. We wave at eachother and i do a small run over.

I wake up in a sweat. The dream i just had was so weird and strange. It was miguel and me in a relationship. Laughing. Happy. Drinking coffee. “I hate coffee” I whisper to myself and remembering the numbers i saw in that dream 199786. I slip on my spider suit. Black and red mask with long sleeve arm covers. Cropped red leather jack and half full black and red plaid skirt with thigh high combat boots. Jumping out of my open window and swinging to the rook of my building pulling out my hidden radio, listening to my next thing to do.

After fighting off a villain and rescuing a few kittens from too tall trees im finally free. But the numbers 199786 wont leave my mind. Out of curiosity i Type it into my watch and a portal opens up. Surprised I listen to my radio one more time….silence. I shut it off stepping into the portal and flying away. I land into a version of new york. But not my new york. It’s more minimal and cleaner. I’m on the rook of what would be my building in my earth. And look down and the person i don’t expect to see is… Miguel. I swing down. Hiding behind a car as i watch him enter a corner coffee shop. I look up at the business name Ceces Coffee Cafe. This place closed in my world tears ago. I continued watching running to hid behind a neatly trimmed bush looking through the window at miguel or at least a version of him. This Miguel looks more happy with life and a gleam to his eyes. I watch as he orders a coffee the server face is hidden behind a hat and then they look up…. ME. The server is me. I’m working here and talking to Miguel. “Hey are you okay?” I hear a voice behind me and turn around to see a lady reaching to touch my shoulder. I jump back and swing away to a rooftop. Can’t believing my eyes. I open a portal back to my world. Taking another look back and see Miguel leaving the cafe with a big smile on his face and a coffee in his hand. I quickly exit and land back to my world. I cant tell anyone.

It’s been a few months and every 2-3 weeks I visit ‘myself’ at the shop. Seeing miguel come in and order the same coffee. Its the 4th time ive come to this earth and im sitting in the shop using a black mask and a hat to cover my face a features. Miguel enters and goes right up to ‘me’ and orders. But instead of walking to wait for his coffee he does something else.

“Hey so i know i come here alot and fet the same thing but… i was wondering if you would be interested in grabbing dinner with me sometime” Miguels goes rubbing the back of his neck nervously

The version of me does a small chuckle. “Actually I would like that”

My eyes widen as i watch them exchange numbers and Miguel grabs his coffee and leaves. I quickly gets up and leaves. Turning a corner into an alleyway and opening up a portal. My heart is beating fast and hard. I jump into the portal and land in my room on my bed. Doing a sequel of excitement. “Omg I can’t believe Im going on a date with Miguel o’hara. Well a version of me but STILL” i say to myself. “What are you losing your wits for?” I hear a familiar voice say in my doorway. I look up. Hobie. “Hobs when did you get here?” I say sitting up. “Don’t worry ‘bout it” he says and looks up “where ya go?” He questions leaning against the doorway. “Don’t worry about it” i shoot back at him. He rolls his eyes and walks away into the living room. I follow behind sitting on the couch and watch as he perch himself on my coffee table. “So I’ve been thinking. We work great together” he goes. “Yeah we work pretty good beating bad guys” i say laying down onto the rest of the couch “yea, we’d look even betta together” he says looking at me. I look around and back at him “look hobs. You’re a really good friend and all but im waiting for someone” i say leaning up on my elbows to look at him more. “And that someone will never be ready for you. Why wait when im right here for you now” he goes i sit up fully “it can’t happen hobie. Im sorry. We just do-“ i get cut off from Hobie rushing over and kissing me. The kiss was soft with a little urgency. The cold metal of his lip piercing causing me to shiver a bit. “What was that again?” Hobie goes. I look at him still processing everything. Hobie leans in kissing down my neck. I put a hand on his shoulder “no please let me show you how much i care” He goes and looks at me. We make eye contact and i nod my head. Hobie moves down to the floor. And gently spreads my legs as he plants kisses along my underwear through my skirt. I let out a small gasp when I feel his tongue pushing into my underwear and into my area. I watch as his head comes up and we stare into eachother eyes as he pulls off my underwear. He lowers back in and continues to kiss my area. Eventually he sticks his tongue in and uses a free hand to rub my clit. I gasp and let out a small moan. “Youre so wet” i do a small hum as he proceeds to lick and suck my area. His left hand that was previously on my thigh grabs a boob and massages it for a bit before it goes down and two fingers plunge into my softly. I let out another moan. “Yeah you like that right?” The sounds of his sucking and my wetness fills the room. I’m getting close snd his fingers picks up the pace a little faster. “There we go” he says and i arch my back and do a not so loud moan. He kisses between my legs and removes his fingers. Getting a paper towel to wipe them clean. I’m panting looking up at the ceiling. “What have i done?” I think to myself. I quickly put on my underwear and hobie is walking back to me. “What ya thi-“ he says before i cut him off “go” i say “what? I-“ he stutters “JUST GO HOBIE. Please. I need time to process this” i say almost shouting at him. I hear a shuffle before a portal opens behind and he’s gone. I curl up into a ball and cry silently. Things are going to be so different from now on. Slowly i drift into sleep. Somehow my tear stained cheeks comfort me a bit.

•••

“Hey. HEY WAKE UP!!” I shot up from my sleep jessica’s holographic voice yelling at me. “Yeah! Yeah! What is it?” I ask yawning and rubbing my eyes. Looking up at her. “Miguel wants you at HQ” she says crossing her arms. “Okay, okay just let me get ready and ill be out there” i say getting up “yeah yeah. Shuuutt up” she says before leaving.

I arrive at HQ doing my usual throwing up my insides and talking to a few spiders. Eventually I arrive. “You called miguel” i say kinda afraid of why im here “yeah. Jess leave the room and shit the door make sure noone comes in…or out” his eyes shoot me a glare. I gulp and watch jess leaves. Miguel stands and looks at me “how are your portal travels?” He says “umm good good. Haven’t really been going anywhere except for hobies place” i say playing with my hands “really. Because i see you’ve been going to a unusual PLACE!!” Miguel says and jump down from his platform. “Umm what you mean?” I say taking a step back “you know exactly what I mean” he says walking up me me “Haha funny joke. Nice one you got me!!” I say nervously stepping back until my back hits a object and Miguel towers over me “Dont play dumb and stupid with me. What is earth 199786? And how do you know about it” he says “i don’t know. I’ve only been there a few times” i say “i saw it in a dream and it stuck with me” i say trying to move away. Miguel uses him arms to trap me in on both sides, he leans in closer, whispering in my ear “I know all about your little secret moxie” he says “You do?” I go shaking a bit. Both in fear and arousal. “Yeah and I know what you want” he goes. I feel his hand grab my waist as he pulls me closer to me. He pulls his head away and looks down at me. I gulp “you do?” I ask again “yeah. This!” He goes before he kisses me. In shock i push him off me. We stare at eachother for -5 seconds before i throw myself onto him and we continue kissing. I run my hands through his hair and he gives a small chuckle. “I work very hard on my hair” he goes as i bite down on his lip a bit and go “well looks like you’re gonna have to work hard again” we continue kissing and he starts using his hands to make me grind on his clothed member. I reach down to remove my underwear and immediately i feel his hand in between my legs. His thick long finger plunging into me “Youre so wet” he goes and i moan a little louder as he sucks on my neck. He removes his fingers putting them on his mouth sucking on what’s left of me. He takes my shirt and rip it open “don’t worry ill get you a nee one” he says into my ear. His suit retracts and he is bare in front of me. He taps my thigh a couple of times signaling me to jump up. I obliged he uses one hand to hold me up and the other to position himself. “This is going to hurt a bit sweetheart” slowly he moves into me. I wince a little from how big he is. He starts off slow. My juices covering his length now allowing him to slip in easier and faster. I moan loudly and bite his shoulder “Yeah you like that right?” He goes i lean my head back and we kiss. He start picking up the pace hammering into me. The feeling of his balls hitting my butt turns me on even more. I feel us moving as he walks over to a table like area and lays me down on it. Taking one leg and putting it on his shoulder and using a hand to cup my breast. The bee position allowing him to go deeper and faster. I put a hand on his bicep to hold myslef in place “oh god miguel faster” i say “There we go” he says as he lowers my leg and put both arms by my shoulders to hold me in place as he ruthlessly pounds into me. Our skin slapping rapidly and echoing in the large room. “Oh fuck. Miguel. Im close” i moan. He lowers himself onto me and rest his head in the corner of my neck, panting loudly and letting out few groans to curses. “Fuck!! I want to cum in you” He says as he wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me up a bit. The new position causing us both to moan and he sloppily kisses me. “Please do. Please miguel” i say in the heat of the moment. He looks at me to thrust into me a few times before I felt the warm rish of his cum paint my walls. I orgasmed and my legs shake he thrust into me slowly as we both come down from the intense moment. He slips off and kisses my forehead. “Go and shower I’ll go get you a new shirt” He goes as his suit materializes back onto him.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

-The next day-

I happily skip into HQ to see miguel of course. Me and Hobie still haven’t talk but i plan to fix that. I see Miguel talking to jess and Ben and kiss him on the cheek. “Hey miggy” i say cheerfully He looks at me with cold eyes and back at jess and ben “excuse me for a moment” he gently shoves me out of earshot of the two “what the hell are you doing?” He asks “what you mean? Im just giving my future boyfriend a kiss” I giggle. He closes his eyes and sign’s before opening them again and looks at me. “Im not your future anything. We had a one night stand” he says looking away “what! No last night was very intimate. You made loved to me!” I go “No. i fucked you. I was stressed and you was there. Like i said i knew all about your visit to earth 199786. Those versions of ourselves dating. Well thats not going to happen between us okay, i filled your fantasy and you you helped me out” he says. He pats me on my shoulder before walking back to jess and ben. I felt the tears form and fall as I quickly typed in my home and left. Running to my room and into my bed crying into my pillow. “Im always here if you need me.” I hear behind me, i turn around, Hobie. “And im sorry for what i did. It was stupid and i wont ever do it again” he goes and sits on the edge of my bed. I sit up and hug him tight. “Im sorry for doing that to you hobs. You’re all I could ever ask for” i say He wraps his arms around me and I silently cry into his shirt, he says “Dont worry about it Big steppa. I could never hate you”

End.

Note: My thumb kinda hurts now. Anyways what you think? Should moxie stay with hobie or should she go back to Miguel who cant decide his feelings for anyone. Also did you pay attention to the smut details i did using the same words that hobie used with moxie and had Miguel also use them to get a different reaction from Moxie. Anyways. Dont steal. I only posted this fic on tumblr and nowhere else. I hope you enjoyed it. Rock on!

#marvel #spiderman atsv #atsv fic #miguel o'hara #spiderman #spider punk #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara smut #spider punk smut #atsv hobie #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown smut #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #jessica drew #miguel o’hara fic #spiderpunk fic

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