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zepskies · 6 months

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Assistant Hottie

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader (implied Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason Teague, Assistant Football Coach, meets you in the faculty break lounge at Smallville High. He tries to kick you out, thinking you’re a student. Technically, you are. Turns out, you both go to the same university.

AN: So I know it’s about 20 years late, but I’ve been wanting to write some Jason Teague for a while now. There’s a very dated reference to iPods (remember this show was circa early 2000s).

Word Count: 2,600 Tags/Warnings: Implied love triangle (quadrangle?), fluff, tinge of angst, and a meet cute.

“Hey, Coach T!”

Jason turns his head, shooting Clark Kent a smile that’s just a little bit forced. He slows down in the busy hallway so the younger man can catch up.

Clark’s friends, Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang keep walking, though the brunette glances his way. Her hazel eyes catch his.

But Jason focuses on Clark, who’s coming at him with all six feet and three inches of farm boy earnestness.

Jason has City Boy Charm in his arsenal.

“What’s up, man?”

Clark smiles. “Real quick, just wanted to ask you about the drills we’re running today…”

Eighth period is about to start, meaning just another hour until school ends, and another day of practice begins on the football field. Clark takes all five minutes between classes to ask his questions about how he can better move the ball, his throwing technique, how to better communicate on plays with the rest of the guys.

As always, Jason gives Clark the best advice he has to offer. Even a few months into this job, he’s still feeling a bit of imposter syndrome. He’s only a couple of years older than the guys he’s coaching, and Clark is looking at him like he’s got all the answers.

Newsflash, champ. I don’t. Jason smiles though.

Because Clark is something else. He’s a starting quarterback of a game he’s never played before in his life. Head Coach Quigley thought it was steroids at first, but Jason had a gut feeling about the guy.

“He’s not a cheater,” he’d told Quigley. The other man had scoffed, rubbing his chin.

“Okay, Teague. If you think so,” he said. “…Make him piss in a cup anyway.”

Since then, Clark hasn’t given Jason a reason to doubt him, at least on the field.

No, his reasons for still being wary of Clark are more…personal.

“All right, we’ll workshop the rest later on the field,” Jason says, as the starting bell rings. “You’re gonna be late for class.”

“Okay, see ya later.” Clark nods and holds up a hand in goodbye. To tell the truth, Jason is a little relieved to see him go.

Instead of heading to his office, he makes a pitstop at the faculty break lounge for a cup of coffee. He could use a little pick-me-up, even if it is from a watery K-cup.

When he pushes open the door, he’s greeted by the familiar smell of stale roasted hazelnut and microwaved fish. Along with the wall-to-wall countertop and refrigerator down the end, there’s a small round table fitted with just three chairs.

Uh oh, he thinks.

You’re sitting there with a pair of earbuds in, nodding to your music while you make notes with a red pen. The contents of your messenger bag are half-strewn across the table, displaying a couple of notebooks and binders, different colored highlighters, pens, and a post-it pad.

Your back is facing him, so he has to walk around the table to get your attention. He hesitates, before he taps your shoulder. He’s never had to do this before, and he’s actually a bit nervous.

“Hey there,” he says. His lips quirk when you jolt a little. You stare up at him with wide eyes and the top of your pen resting against your lower lip.

“Uh…” You remove your ear buds and hit pause on your iPod.

“Did you get lost on the way to study hall, or you just here for the coffee?” Jason gestures to the Keurig machine on the counter. “Hate to break it to you, but that stuff’s not exactly quality joe.”

You blinked at him. “What? Um…I mean yeah, the coffee’s ass. But it is free, I guess.”

Jason tries to reign in his smile. He cards a hand through his blonde hair and taps his free hand on the table.

“Uh, are you ditching class or something?” he asks. “If it’s history, I get it. Snooze fest.”

He makes a flatlining motion with his hand. Your brows knit together in confusion…but then you brighten.

“Oh, I’m not a student,” you laugh. “But good on you for trying to lay down the law, Coach Teague.”

Now it’s Jason’s turn to be confused. “How did you know—”

You point with your red pen, over to the yellow patch emblazoned on his red polo that says: Crows Football and Assistant Coach.

“Pretty sure you’re the one the cheerleaders are calling Assistant Hottie,” you say. Your gaze is wry and a hint playful.

He lets himself smile, albeit with some embarrassment. He points at you.

“And you’re…”

“Part-time teacher’s aid,” you reply. Your hands make a frame around the stack of papers in front of you, that Jason now realizes you’re grading.

Great. His face warms a bit.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, and points to the coffee maker. “Let me just mind my business.”

He doesn’t know it, but you subtly watch him with a small smile while he goes about said business. The Keurig eventually spits out more roasted hazelnut into his Styrofoam cup.

With his prize in hand, he means to leave you in peace to head for his office, but your voice stops him.

“You can sit if you want. I need a break anyway.”

Jason can admit, at least to himself, that he’s curious. (About you.) He goes over to the table and sits down across from you. His eyes unconsciously dart over the splayed contents of your bag, and you don’t miss it.

“Sorry,” you say, as you try to reign in the mess and corral things back into your bag. “I’m kind of an organized chaos kind of girl.”

“No worries. I dabble in that philosophy myself,” he says with a grin. “I’m Jason, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, giving him your name in return.

You like his smile. His long fingers are wrapped around the steaming cup. Meanwhile, the afternoon sun is pouring in from the windows behind him. It shines golden on his hair and broad shoulders, and makes his green eyes look warm.

Those eyes glance down and focus on a familiar badge sticking out of your bag. His brows furrow.

“No way. You go to Kansas A&M?” he asks. “So do I.”

You blink at him. “What, you’re still in college?”

He laughs and leans back in his chair, blowing out a breath.

“Okay, wow! A bit rude," he says. "Just how old do you think I am?”

You bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Second thought, don’t answer that,” he quips.

“I’m sorry,” you say, through a bit of laughter. “I guess we’re both reading each other wrong today.”

Jason shakes his head and crosses his arms.

“No, no. It’s fine,” he says airily. “Lest I be any more presumptuous, can I ask what year you’re in? Major?”

You concede with a nod, but you’re still smiling too hard.

“Secondary Education. Junior year,” you say. Jason’s brows raise with his grin still in place.

“Okay, a future teacher on our hands.” He leans forward. “As it turns out, I’m actually a sophomore.”

A year below you. You bury your reddened face in your hands, though a giggle still bubbles up.

He doesn’t let you stew in your misery for long though.

“Eh, it’s okay. Don’t feel too bad,” he says. You hear the smile in his voice, and you peek out at him from between your fingers. “I’m technically a year behind. Transferred from another school so I could take this job.”

Once again, your eyes widen as your hands fall away from your face.

“Oh, yeah? I assume you play football, but I’ve never seen you on the team…”

Jason’s smile turns playfully cocky.

“I don’t play anymore, but I’ll have you know, I was on track for the NFL.”

Yeah, for about a minute, comes a dull reminder in his brain.

You rest your chin in your hand as you meet his smile. “Okay. You definitely have the face of a guy who almost went pro.”

Your voice lowers at the end there, impersonating every “dude bro” you’ve ever met who thought he could throw a ball across a field.

“I’m serious.” Jason laughs, but then his eyes dim a bit. “I played for Metropolis U. Tore my rotator cuff, and uh…that’s it. Scrubbed. Had to start over.”

You dim along with him. “That sucks ass. I’m sorry.”

He snorts, almost spilling his coffee. “You’ve certainly got a way with words.”

“But you feel better for me calling you old, don’t you?” Your pen taps on your lip, and his eyes are drawn to the gesture.

He also notices your eyes, the shape of your face, the shade of your hair, the black Fleetwood Mac shirt (with a ripped V hinting at cleavage). It doesn’t exactly scream T.A., but you’re pretty.

Beautiful, really.

He tries not to notice that too much.

“Maybe a little,” he allows. He smiles behind a sip of his drink. It’s getting cold, as he forgets to actually drink it.

“My parents sent me to college to be a lawyer,” you confess. It perks his interest with raised brows. “Like my mom, and my uncle, and his father before him, and so on.”

Jason’s smile is back. You consider that a small triumph.

“I sat in one class. Intro to Business Law.” You shudder at the memory. “Jason, I wanted to bludgeon myself with the textbook. And it wouldn’t have taken long. That thing was the size of a Dostoyevsky novel.”

Jason laughs, even though he doesn’t know who Dostoyevsky is. It does unearth a distant memory of his 12th grade English class (he barely passed that one).

“So, I decided to disappoint them,” you say ruefully.

That, he understands all too well. He raises a finger at you. “Hey, a teacher’s respectable. But I happen to be an expert at disappointed parents, so you’re in good company.”

You smile, small but genuine. Jason counts that as a win.

“What’s your major now?” you ask.

“Sports medicine,” he replies, but you both hear the lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

Your head tilts, and your eyes soften. Not with pity, he thinks. Maybe with understanding.

“You could find something else you’re actually passionate about,” you say.

Jason bites the inside of his lip, sets his cup back on the table.

“Sure,” he says.

His lackluster answer is telling, and he can’t even think of a joke to inject into this moment to lighten the mood. (He even disappoints himself there.)

“Look, I get it,” you say at last. “You probably ate, slept, breathed that game. Like that’s what you were put on this earth to do. And I know you must’ve been good. Because the fact that this school hired you while you’re still in college is amazing.”

He meets your gaze steadily.

Your smile brightens. “But I’m sure football’s not all there is to you.”

That touches him. Warms him even, though he’s reluctant to let it.

“We just met, and you’re already sure about that?” he remarks.

You shrug, gesturing at his cup. “Well, I’m sure that you probably have crappy taste in coffee. I’m broke as hell, and even I don’t drink from a Keurig.”

Jason laughs. If you only knew that he’d spent his summer in Paris, sampling some of the best restaurants and cafés in the world without even looking at the bill…until his dad cut him off. Needless to say, he’s had to refine his tastes.

“What kind of teacher do you want to be?” he asks, instead of getting to all that.

Your brow arches. “You mean what subject?”

“Yeah. What, like physics or something?”

“Ew. God, no!”

“What’s wrong with physics?”

“Too much math. I’m shit at that shit,” you reply.

“Okay. No to the sciences.” He laughs and rubs his chin, squinting at you. “Let me see if I can guess.”

You gesture widely. Go ahead.

“Not economics, I’m thinking. Too close to business,” he teases.

“Business law,” you correct. “But you’re actually right about that.”

“Hmm, history?”

“It's interesting, but it’s also rigged,” you say. “Only the victors in society get to dictate what gets remembered. Just look at Columbus Day. What a sham that is.”

Jason allows that with a nod and a smile. “All right, what then? Algebra? Geometry?”

“That’s math, remember?” you reply, with furrowed brows. “Besides, I don’t like mixing letters and numbers. It’s not sanitary.”

He chortles at that. You’re a little ridiculous, but he kind of likes that.

“Okay, how about English?” he says.

Your gaze flicks up to his. A small, growing smile.

“What makes you say that?” you ask.

“Process of elimination?” he says. His smile curves. He saw your little reaction. “But I don’t know. I get the feeling you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me. The way you’re talking, all quick as a whip… Like I said, you’ve got a way with words.”

You laugh a little. “Oh, do I?”

Jason’s brows raise expectantly as he leans back in his seat again.

Well, then? that move says. “Am I right?”

Your head tilts, and you answer the unspoken challenge in his eyes. You raise a finger and pull out one of your notebooks and you take up your red pen. You tap the top of it on your lip, in what seems to be your habit, and you begin to write on a clean piece of paper.

Your hand moves with purpose on each word. Jason watches you in curiosity. Though when you realize he’s staring hard at your paper, your free hand forms a wall against his probing eyes.

“No cheating,” you reproach.

He scoffs, but he waits for you to finish.

Finally, you tear off the piece of notebook paper, fold it up neatly, and you slide it over to him.

“What, are we passing notes now?” Jason can’t help but joke, even as he opens the little gift. “I thought we weren’t in class, Professor.”

You shake your head. “Just read it.”

He starts to, and his smile grows. He glances back up at you. “You wrote me a poem?”

“Just a little haiku.” You gesture at him to keep reading while you start to pack up your things. The alarm bell just tolled for the end of class, and you have another job to get to.

Jason’s eyes lower back down to the looping scrawl of your handwriting. His smile deepens into a smirk.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

He stares at your words for a while. He rereads the last line a few times.

By the time he looks back up, your bag is packed and you’re standing, ready to go. You smile at him.

“See you on campus,” you say. “I also work at the Writing Center, if you ever need a spruce up on your essays.”

“Can I get you to rewrite my history paper?” he teases.

“Make an appointment,” you counter, still with that smile. “And we’ll see.”

You leave the faculty lounge, and Jason feels a suspicious jolt in his heart.

Something he immediately feels guilty about.

Because the real reason he came back to Kansas is to continue his summer fling with Lana Lang, a senior at Smallville High.

Well, to him, it’s not a fling. He used to think it was as close to love as he’s ever been. Recently though, he’s been getting the sense that she’s still hung up on her not quite ex, Clark Kent.

That’s not even the most complicated part.

She’s 18, and Jason’s barely 20, but their relationship could still one day be the reason he loses his job…

And maybe, any chance he might have of being friends with someone like you.

AN: Lol no shade to my sciences, history, and math people! Just creating a character. Let me know what you think! 😉

And if you liked this...

Read the Sequel!

Check out "Miss Professor" to continue reading. ❤️

Smallville Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Jason Tag List:

(Includes "Everything" tags + "JT" tags.)

@sleepyqueerenergy @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @fromcaintodean @deanbrainrotwritings @jackles010378 @akshi8278 @rachiem4-blog @waters-2567 @jessjad @sweettimelady @iprobablyshipit91 @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @lokigirl666 @xiphoidbones

#Assistant Hottie #Jason Teague #jason teague x reader #jason teague x female reader #jason teague x you #jason teague fics #smallville #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #lana lang #smallville clark kent #clark kent #zepskies writes

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angelicsjn · 1 year

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How would they react to someone flirting with their darling right in front of them?

YOUR SIX YANDERES.

— ROMAN CORNELIUS JAMES BEAUREGARD.

Whoever even dares would be a complete idiot.

Flirting with THE Roman Beauregard's S/O? Obviously this person is either stupid, insane or brave.

If they don't stop once he's made his presence known he acts polite, he has an image to uphold. He's an important person and need to be loved by all.

So he smiles, he walks away with his arm tightly wrapped around your waist and you feel the intensity radiate from him. His jaw clenching.

Behind the scenes he uses his power and influence to ruin this person. Finds out who they are, their job, their family. Everything. Uses anything and everything against them to ruin their lives. If they're squeaky clean, he makes something up. Forges up a complete lie that is still believable and makes this person's life hell.

Funny because while their life is turned upside down, they don't know he's the one at fault. They still probably support him, cheer him on and speak about that time they met him and his lovely S/O at that one party.

What a lovely and polite couple!!

— LATEN REED.

Does this person have a deathwish? Who would flirt with this beast of a man's S/O.

Everyone knows that Laten is kind, he's the life of the party. So sweet. But his body? His height? His attitude when angered? They're more than dumb. They must be suicidal.

Laten is forgiving enough, he would politely tell them that you're taken. To stop flirting but if they're persistent and keep up with it, they're getting their jaw spun.

One punch and they're out cold with a tooth missing. You don't fuck with Laten, especially the one he loves.

He will then apologise for making you see him angry. He only wants to show the best parts of him! Behind the scenes, he would AND HAS fucked up those who hurt you.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

Jae is sneaky, he's a scheming man and will manipulate those around him to hate the person who flirts with you. He watches them, picks up on everything and uses it against them.

He can make the most popular person turn into the biggest villain and he won't stop until everyone hates his guts.

He watches with a smile as people call him out on things he created. He laughs as they distance themselves from the person until they're completely alone.

Biggest thing, Jae doesn't care. He's loved by all, he's amazing. Once they all hate them, he'd make it known. They've already lost everything so why would anyone believe him?

"I told you to stay away from y/n." He'd say before walking away with a smirk. He won, as always.

— KAIDAN ALEXANDER WOLFE.

He internalises it. Is he not good enough? Do you like this person? Are you flirting back?

He'd go through a mixture of emotions until he realises you don't like this person. You want nothing to do them. Of course you don't, you're with him!

He's then angry. Very fucking angry.

Kaidan takes work off them, modelling jobs are now his. Brand deals are now his. He makes sure to post better outfit pics. You name it.

He'll become better than this person at everything. There will be rumours that this person is copying Kaidan and he plays his violin over this. Dropping hints on social media that he's being copied by them, that he feels attacked and like they're obsessed.

It leads to this person being run off social media due to the amount of hate, even though Kaidan never verbally spoke bad about this person, he dropped enough hints for the people to confirm that they're trying to become him.

— HAYDEN WEST.

He wants the ground to swallow him up. He hates it.

He feels under attack like he's going to lose you to this person. He becomes insecure and compares himself to this person.

He follows you around like a puppy. Watches your reactions whenever this person is near, to see if you give them attention at all. He hates it, so so much.

After you reassure him, his confidence does pick up. That's when he begins to think of ways to keep them away from you.

He's not physically scary, he'd have to use his brain. He'd tutor this person, just feed them the wrong information until their grades are so bad they've failed and can't progress onto the next year.

Hayden does small things that embarrasses this person in public. Pouring water where they're going to walk, 'accidentally' bumps into them and tips his food over their white t-shirt. Oh god! He's so clumsy!

You don't see what he's doing, you think he's innocent, like everyone else. Half the time nobody even notices him, much like the one who was flirting with you...

— JOSHUA WHITE.

He is a very kind man, a respected one too. Nobody would flirt anyone he is with.

I mean, how could they? He's so sweet. It'd just be wrong to do that.

But with the off chance that someone would actually flirt with you, he's really just like 🧍‍♂️the whole time.

Maybe he's upset. Maybe he's ready to kill. Maybe it's Mabeline. Who knows?

Really, his eye is twitching, and his fist is curling from the bad thoughts. He doesn't let it show.

When he shakes the person's hand, he smiles, but his dark eyes are blank. They walk away with a red hand from the pressure, but even then, they're convinced he's the nicest person they ever met.

#darling reader #darlingcore #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you

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itoshiexx · 3 months

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the garden of your heart

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ isagi yoichi + nepenthe (n.) - something that can make you forget grief or suffering

synopsis: when the weight of loss threatens to crush your bones, isagi yoichi becomes the solace you need.

notes: hi guys. i wasn't planning on posting this so soon, but then again, i wasn't planning on my dog dying and experiencing grief first hand either, so this flowed out of me as a form of comfort. thank you for requesting @popponn, love you dear <3

event masterlist

grief came in a wavelength of darkness; one that covered every seam and corner of your skin until it swallowed you whole. grief carved its way deep into your heart, leaving behind a hole that burned every time your chest expanded to try to breathe. grief had an iron grip on the base of your throat, choking down the words of disbelief and the acute sorrow of your cries that insisted on keep coming out, despite the irritation on the skin of your eyes.

grief, you thought, was kind of like facing death one on one, shivering upon its wicked smile, watching helplessly as it takes away something you cherish and treasure with all your heart.

“baby, have you eaten yet?”

you can barely register the words coming out of yoichi’s mouth, too engrossed in staring at the white ceiling and reliving the last 24 hours on an endless, torturous loop. you try to blink away the images of your loved one dead, but they keep coming and opening the dam that releases your infinite tears. you’ve lost count on how many of them you have already shed.

(it seems like it could fill the pacific ocean).

“baby?” he tries again, gently poking your body. with great strength, you manage to look at him.

grief took away the sparkle of life in your orbs, almost as if you were the one who passed — because, in reality, a part of you did die with them. grief made you feel incomplete, sensing an emptiness that was never there before, but that would perpetually be from then on.

yoichi smiles, and it feels like a beam of light on your little dark bubble.

“there you are. my pretty baby.” he runs his fingers through your hair, trying to soothe the fresh wounds of your soul, even for just a moment. “what would you like to eat? i’ll cook for you.”

you feel the tears once again prickle your lash line, but you fight the quiver of your lips and the cement block lodged in your throat. “i’m… ’m not hungry.”

grief made you lose your appetite. it made you lose a lot of things.

(ironic, considering it all began from loss itself).

your boyfriend frowns, “you know you need to eat, honey. at least a little bit.”

guilt starts gathering in your guts. you don’t want to worry your boyfriend — your sweet, kind boyfriend who is always by your side — because what if you lose him too? what would you do with another hole in your life, in your heart? how could you bear the weight of another loss without letting grief take over you completely?

“hey, hey… don’t cry, pretty. i’m sorry,” yoichi is quick to say, turning until he’s face to face with you. he sits on the edge of the couch and brings your face to his warm chest, drawing circular motions on your back to try and calm you down.

you didn’t even realize when you started crying again, but you let it flow. although everything in the world seems fragile and scary, you know you can always count on isagi to be your safe space.

because your lover’s heart is like a garden — a place where the birds chirp and the flowers continuously bloom, even when they are faced with drought. a spot where the breeze gently blows your hair and kisses your wounds, no matter how deep they are. a space where you can rest and recharge, allowing yourself to be vulnerable.

(you don’t have to be strong all the time).

yoichi’s heart is the one slot of the whole universe where you know you can find peace from your worst nightmares.

“what do you want me to do, pretty? how can i help you feel better?” he asks, voice slightly shaken with concern. it makes your heart swell, and maybe, just maybe, you think you can be alright.

“just hold me,” you murmur.

because it’s love that fills the holes and makes you forget grief. even if it’s just for a little while.

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spinningwebsandtales · 1 year

Text

Imagine Helping Vash Get Cleaned Up After the Incident in July

Vash the Stampede X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive themes, mentions of nudity, angst, mentions of deaths, and steam

Word Count: 1k

(A/N:) I am drowning in Trigun Stampede feels. I needed to write something to make me feel better (it helped a little bit). I want Vash to be happy, somebody please stop writing bad things happening to him!! He deserves good things and I just have all the Vash feels. So I have SEVERAL ideas in my drafts for both him and Nicholas so my fellow Trigun fangirls be on the lookout as I keep working and hopefully get around to posting more often! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

After the disaster of July, your heart ached horribly for the lives lost in the incident. But you found yourself worrying more about a blond haired man more than anything. Once the news of the destruction was done an announcement followed about the raised bounty of the person responsible for such a horrific act. Vash the Stampede now had a sixty billion double dollar bounty stamped across his name and every bounty hunter with the guts to go after him on his tail. You worriedly waited for the fateful moment that he would find his way at your doorstep every night. You didn’t have to wait long as a week later Vash stumbled right to your door, collapsing at your feet.

You struggled getting him inside before you were finally able to get him in and shut the door. Vash sat limply in a chair, a ragged cloth draped over his form leaving him in shadow, while his normally styled hair hung limply in dirty knots. He didn’t speak or even look at you, keeping his eyes down to stare holes into the floor. You sighed tiredly, knowing that he was blaming himself for everything. Nothing was truly his fault, but Vash always took the world and it’s problems on his shoulders. He probably didn’t understand why he brought himself to your door as he worried about bringing destruction down upon your home. You shook your head grabbing his arm and tugging him up to his feet.

“You don’t have to talk,” you started walking while tugging him along, “or explain anything. But you will follow me and do what I tell you. No arguing.”

You brought him into your bathroom where you started running water into an old wooden tub you kept for your baths. He started to protest, Vash’s voice rough with disuse but you quickly shushed him, continuing on with your work.

“Get undressed,” you stated with no room for arguments. “I’m going to get you cleaned up.”

Vash just sighed in defeat as you turned back to focus on getting the tub filled and the necessary items to get him all clean. Bashfully Vash stood in the middle of the bathroom waiting for you to finish with the running water. You didn’t focus on that the man you cared for dearly was standing naked in the middle of the room, but the sight of all the scars and metal marring his flesh made you gasp in concern.

“Vash,” you whimpered. He stood there stiffly before looking away as you got closer to him. “Oh Vash.”

You reached out and he flinched, ashamed that you were seeing the sad state his body was in and what he had done to himself all for the sake of his ideals. Still you didn’t let his embarrassment stop you as you traced the metal across his pectoral.

“Sorry I’m so hideous,” he grinned sadly which just made you glare at him.

“You aren’t hideous,” you stated a little angry that he thought that way. The look in his once bright blue eyes had you tugging him into your embrace. “You’ll never be hideous to me. Now get in the tub, you’ll feel much better once you’re all clean.”

“Yes ma’am,” Vash chuckled entering the water. He watched you for a couple seconds just waiting for you to leave. You stayed there staring back before making your way back to the tub. Kneeling down you grabbed the wash cloth, dipping it into the still warm water and rubbing it across his grimy skin. You traced all the scars, leaving tender touches to each one as you went along. Vash shivered at your touch despite the heat of the water. The water grew murky quickly as you made sure that all the dirt was washed away. You wished greatly that you could scrub away guilt as easily as the sands of Noman’s Land. Vash relaxed a little at the attention you laved upon him, all thoughts of the scars he hated so much melting away at every touch you gifted them.

You knew Vash had always seemed a little flustered around you, but you were happy to see him relax. Normally you wouldn’t stick around and watch or help him bathe, but when you had seen him so exhausted at your doorstep that he wound up collapsing at your doorstep you couldn’t leave him alone. Bringing him back to his fun and goofy self was your newest mission. Vash stiffened when you leaned forward, placing your hand in the water to use the tub as leverage. He felt your fingertips brush against his bare thigh, making his eyes widened. You brushed your lips gently against his chapped ones.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you whispered.

Vash continued to stare before he placed a damp hand on the back of your head and brought you closer. Before you could ask what he was doing, his lips were on yours. You melted into his embrace, letting Vash do whatever he needed to take from you. He stood up taking you with him as water splashed onto the floor in large puddles. You groaned tangling your fingers in his hair, ignoring the fact that your comfortable clothes were quickly becoming soaked. Vash held on tightly your smaller form fitting against his like the perfect puzzle piece. He hadn’t been able to relax or feel at peace one day since the destruction of July, but now that he was here with you he finally found that comfort he had been longing for. He held on tightly not wanting to ever let go as you saw him as he wanted to be seen. You didn’t judge him or force him to open up, you quietly stood by just waiting for the times he needed you. He loved you greatly and he was thankful that he found someone like you. All cleaned and freshly dressed, Vash watched you fall asleep against him, your warm breath puffing against his neck. He held on tighter letting himself relax for the first time in so long.

#Vash X Reader #Vash / Reader #Vash the Stampede #Trigun #Trigun Stampede #Vash Imagine #Trigun Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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thebigbadbatswife · 7 months

Text

Internal Conflict (Part 2 of 3)

Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader Series - Under Your Skin Part 1 here | Part 3 here

Summary - Following the aftermath of your fight with the Dark Knight, you end up recieving a call from him asking you for help on one of his cases. Making you wonder, just what is he up to?

Warnings - Canon typical violence, brief mention of death, major character injury, blood. (If I somehow missed a TW, lmk!)

A/N - Since for October I'll be posting what I've written for Kinktober, Part 3 will be coming sometime during Novemeber simply so it isn't lost in the wave of fics! As always hope you enjoy! 💜

Taglist - At the end of the fic. Please message me if you would like to be added/removed.

Word Count - 5.1k

You sighed softly as you wrapped the towel around your body and walked out of the bathroom. The blinds were open, allowing the early morning sunlight to stream into your bedroom. Something that your cat was taking full advantage of as he was fully stretched out across your bed. You chuckled as you briefly stopped to ruffle his fur, earning you a small chirp as his eyes opened and he greeted you.

“How about some breakfast?” He perked up at that, meowing as he got back up onto his paws and followed you from the bedroom to the kitchen.

Today was going to be a good day, you had decided. Not even Batman was going to get you down. Not that he had been doing much in the ways of talking, or arguing, with you anyway. Of course that was likely down to how good you had become at avoiding him or making sure you had left the room before anyone else. Now the only time he spoke to you was during briefing, the middle of a mission or debriefing.

The injury that you had sustained during Lex’s attack had not only kept you away from your usual superhero duties, but had left quite the scar. Some of your focus over the past few weeks had been on healing and slowly building your strength back up, following the advice that Black Canary had given you. Though you had no actual proof, you suspected that the advice had actually come from Batman. Why he hadn’t just given it to you direct, you didn’t understand. You might hate his guts, but he was still a teammate. And a teammate who was very knowledgeable when it came to the medical side of things. If he had any advice to give in regards to that, then you would listen.

The rest of your focus had been on your equipment and future suits. It was important, not only to be prepared, but to stay a few steps ahead of the bad guys.

Now that your leg was fully healed, you would be returning to the Watchtower today. Though had been talking to everyone, other than Batman, through the group chat that The Flash had set up, it wasn’t the same as seeing everyone in person. You had also missed kicking bad guys’ asses and doing your best to make the world a little bit better.

After you had gotten your cat his breakfast, you proceeded to make yourself something and sat down on your couch. It was rare that you were awake this early. Typically waking up either right before or right after midday. You were curious of what sort of trashy tv was on at this time in the morning. As you flipped through the channels, you came across a talkshow that had Bruce Wayne on as their guest star. You didn’t have a clue as to what had been said, but the host was laughing rather hard. With nothing else to watch, you decided to leave it on while you ate. Besides, he was very easy on the eyes. He was a man that you certainly wouldn’t throw out of your bed.

You scoffed and shook your head. Damn. Was this really what you were doing? Fantasising about a well known womanising billionaire? Dammit, you really needed to get out more. It was just a shame that the superhero lifestyle didn’t really allow for that. You switched the tv off and focused on finishing your breakfast. It wasn’t going to do you any good to dwell on things like that. The life that you had choses was a good one, even if it did get lonely at times.

Once you were finished with breakfast, and had finally gotten dressed, you walked over to your bookcase and pulled on rather inconspicuous book. There were several clicking noises and the bookcase slid back before sliding to the side, revealing a hidden elevator. You stepped inside and pressed one of two buttons. As the doors slid shut, the bookcase slid back into place.

The elevator trip was a long one. It had to be to get from your apartment all the way down to the hidden basement of this building. The money wasn’t yours. At least it hadn’t always been yours. The money, the company, the real estate. All of it had been your father’s, but after his untimely death everything he’d had landed into your lap.

Your father’s death had been the catalyst to your new life as a crimefighter. That was a day that you didn’t like to dwell on for too long. Besides today was supposed to be a good day and it very well couldn’t be if you were wishing you could change the past.

The doors of the elevator dinged as they opened up into your base. It wasn’t the most hightech place, especially when compared to a place like the Watchtower, but it did everything you needed it do. And you weren’t looking to upgrade it right now.

A large black box sat on the centre table. The sight of it made you smile. You had forgotten that was down here. Your new suit. You hadn’t had a chance to try it on before Luthor had injured you. Well what better time to debut it than now?

Your smile was big as you checked yourself out in the mirror. Your friend had done well. Very well. From the colours to the new kevlar weave, it was a hell of a lot better than your last one. And it should hold up nicely against bald rich men and their overly large mechs. Mechs that were definitely compensating for something.

Once you had gone through your gear, making sure you had everything you needed, you left your base and headed for the nearest zeta tube.

The Watchtower was quiet when you arrived. Which wasn’t a surprise, with how early it was. You imagined people had either already gone home, after working all night, or were slowly waking up. Being mindful of that, you kept your steps light and made you way toward the breakroom. As you entered the room you were greeted with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Other than yourself the only other person in the breakroom was Black Canary.

In recent months you and her had become quite close. So close, in fact, that you knew each other’s secret identities. After all, you weren’t just coworkers or allies, you were friends. And it felt good to have friends that you could share the burdens of a superhero life with. As much as you trusted your friend that made your suits, at the same time you knew that there were lots of things that she couldn’t understand.

“Welcome back,” Dinah greeted you as you entered the room. “There’s coffee, if you want any.”

“Thanks, it feels good to be back,” you replied. You made your way over to the coffee machine and poured yourself a cup before joining her at the table.

The two of you spent the morning catching up with each other. It felt good to finally catch up with each other in person. It really wasn’t the same using text on a screen. As you chatted, the door to the breakroom opened and in walked Batman. You took a long drink from your cup, keeping your focus on what Dinah was saying, pretending that he wasn’t there. He didn’t stay in the breakroom for long. Grabbing himself some coffee before leaving again.

She looked between you and the closed door. You thought she was going to ask you what was going on there, you knew the question had to be everyone’s minds. The two of you go from being at each other’s throats to not speaking whatsoever? She didn’t though.

“Me, Ollie and Hal are going to a bar later tonight, if you want to come along as well?” she offered.

It sounded good; a night out with your friends. It had been awhile since you had last been out. Maybe that was what you needed. To go out, get drunk and maybe end up waking up next to a stranger. Something that might help in you in forgetting how it had felt to have sex with him.

You nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great. I would love to. You know, as long as no supervillain tries world domination again.”

Dinah chuckled at that.

The bar was far quieter than you had thought it was going to be. It didn’t look like you were going to be taking anyone back to your hotel room tonight. Which was fine. You were here to hang out with your friends after all. While Dinah, Oliver and Hal had ordered themselves some beers, you had opted for just a soda. The more you had thought about it, the more you hadn’t wanted to get drunk. You would rather to keep a clear and focused mind. Maybe next time.

Right now the four of you were laughing at Hal’s rather on point impression of Batman. You shook your head, smiling, and calming yourself down long enough to take a sip of your drink. After weeks of being cooped up, using the majority of your free time to focus on future equipment blueprints and potential future materiels to use, while your leg had healed, it felt good to be out with them.

Oliver raised his beer bottle to his lips, frowning when he found it empty. “I’m gonna go and get us another round,” he announced as he got up and turned to head toward the bar.

“I’ll help you,” Hal said very abruptly, going after him.

You frowned. That was… strange. What was going on with him? That was when you saw it, out of the corner of your eye, Dinah moving, leaning in close to you, so that no one would overhear. Now you understood.

“You and Batman. Spill.”

You looked at her like she had just grown horns. You scoffed. “What do you mean “spill”? You’ve seen the arguments. Everyone one has. What else is there to talk about?”

She raised an eyebrow at you. It was more than clear that she didn’t believe a word you were saying. “Right. That’s why you both disappeared for hours at a time afterward hmmm? Because there’s nothing else to talk about?”

Okay. It was clear to you that she definitely knew what happened between you and Batman, but how? Had she somehow overheard the two of you? Mentally, you shook your head. It didn’t matter how close you were with her, you would still rather forget what had happened between you and Batman and talking to her about it wouldn’t help. Before anything else could be said, Oliver and Hal returned to the table, drinks in hand.

“And what were you two talking about?” Oliver asked as he set down his and Dinah’s drinks, while Hal set down his and yours. You thanked him.

“Nothing, just some girl talk,” she replied. You nodded in agreement with her before taking a sip of your drink.

The rest of the night went by quickly. The situation between you and Batman wasn’t brought up again, but you didn’t believe that Oliver and Hal were oblivious to the situation. The timing of their leaving and Dinah’s questions were too much of a coincidence. It made you wonder how many more Leaguers were aware of it.

As the night came to a close, they walked you back to the zeta tube. Since you weren’t having a one night stand tonight, you figured you may as well just go back to your apartment.

You were curled up on your couch, underneath a fleece with a bowl of popcorn on your lap. You were watching a movie you had been meaning to watch for a while now, but had just never got around to it. Until now. It had felt good to go out with your friend, but it had completely drained your social battery. You needed to recharge, so to speak. And this was the perfect way to do so.

You were about halfway through the movie when the phone you had specifically for League only business, started to ring. It was for emergencies, in case that you weren’t on the Watchtower ro away from home. You paused the movie and picked up the phone, growing when you saw who was calling you. Batman? There were plenty of other Leaguers available tonight, so why you?

You pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. He was a teammate and he needed help.

“Where are you?” you asked as soon as you had answered the phone. There wasn’t any time to waste if he was in trouble.

“There’s an old amusement park, just outside of Gotham.” He sounded winded. Something you were sure that you had only picked up on because of you… time together.

“I’m on my way.”

The sight of the amusement park had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It just seemed… wrong. A place that was supposed to be filled with people, lights and laughter was dark, devoid of life and decaying. It was unsettling. The fog drifting in certainly wasn’t helping with that.

You stayed down and kept your steps light as you stalked through the park, looking for Batman. You wouldn’t lie, it confused you a lot. Why he would call you, of all people, for help. Hell, the fact that he had called for help to begin with. You had heard the stories from the other Leaguers. How is stubbornness to handle things all by himself had nearly killed him more than once. Not to mention that he had made his feeling about you more than perfectly clear. So why had he asked you for help? Especially when there were other Leaguers that he not only liked more, but had more experience with this sort of thing than you did. There were plenty of them on standby. You knew because you had double checked, in case the two of you weren’t enough for whatever this threat was.

You thought about asking him why, once you found him, but you dismissed it almost as quickly as it had come to mind. He wouldn’t tell you even if you did. There was no point in wasting your breath.

The old rides groaned and creaked. Chains, whose purpose had been long forgotten rattled and banged against various makeshift poles and equally rusted poles. The cleaning noise echoing around you. The shadowy remains of the rollercoaster loomed high above you, like the unnatural skeleton of some giant creature. If you hadn’t been unsettled before, you certainly were now.

Voices ahead caught your attention. They were loud and distressed. Like they had been attacked. You had a good feeling you knew by who. Sticking to the shadows, you slowly began to creep toward them. Through the fog, two silhouettes started to take shape ahead of you, but before you could get closer, someone grabbed you. An arm wrapped around your waist white the other covered your mouth, pulling you to the side and keeping you secured against a muscular chest. Your instincts had kicked in and you attempted to fight against the person who had grabbed you, not stopping to think who it might actually be. You stopped when you heard his voice.

“It’s me.” His voice was deep and gravelly, sending goosebumps across your skin. You were thankful your suit didn’t show any skin.

Even as you stopped fighting, your body remained tense. You stayed still and silent. The two of you watched as the two figures, two henchmen dressed in black and red, rushed past. They were yelling at how Batman must have gone in the direction they were headed, completely unaware that in their hurry they had run past him and you. When they were gone, their footsteps fading, he released his grip on you. Now free, you spun around to face him.

You were so close together, lips centimetres apart. If either of you moved forward just a little bit they would meet…

You snapped out of it immediately and backed away from him, putting space between you both. What the hell where you thinking? This was not the time or place to be thinking with anything other than you brain. Especially with him, of all people.

“What’s going on?” you asked, making sure to keep your voice low.

He gestured with his head for you to follow him before he moved away from the wall, continuing down the makeshift alleyway.

“I’ve been investigating the recent super villain attacks,” he started to explain as he led you through the park. “So many happening so close together is too much for it to be a coincidence.”

You stuck to the shadows and kept low. The henchmen were on high alert, from their run in with Batman. You were sure that their trigger fingers were itching, ready to fire at anything that looked just a little bit like a bat.

“They’re connected?” While you had found the attacks a little strange, you hadn’t found it so strange to have thought that they might be connected.

He nodded and looked over his shoulder at you. “Tonight should prove that.” Then he turned back and continued leading you.

Batman didn’t elaborate further. Not that that wasn’t unexpected. He had a thing for being cryptic. That was something you had learned quickly after joining the League. The amusement park was crawling with henchmen as well. Too much talking and you could definitely end up drawing some very much unwanted attention. Being silent for the time being would be best.

Still, it was gnawing at you. Why had he asked for your help? There was a part of you that really wanted to know. You remembered the night in Star City vividly. The words said, how he had snapped at you. Showing his true colours. Similar fights had broken out on the Watchtower, more often than not involving him and Hal. As far as you knew he had never called him for assistance. Especially when there were other Leaguers he preferred working with. Then it hit you. Was this his way of attempting to start over with you?

The two of you soon came to a funhouse. Which, unlike the rest of the park, was seemingly devoid of life entirely. The quiet though. It didn’t feel natural.

Batman rose a hand as he stopped in his tracks, stopping you at the same time.

“Something’s wrong,” he stated, voice low.

“Definitely,” you agreed with him for once. “Could it be a trap?”

“Maybe. Stick close.”

You nodded and followed him into the funhouse.

Floorboards creaked beneath your feet. Some of them felt like they were about to break beneath your weight. So you kept your steps as light as possible, hoping to avoid that. You didn’t want to reinjure your leg. There was a strong stench of wood rot and mould, making you wrinkle your noise in disgust. The further into the funhouse that you got, the worse the smells started to get.

After walking through a couple of rooms that had clearly been gutted, you and Batman came to a hallway full of mirrors. The distorted mirrors coerced the walls and ceiling. They were either cracked or broken, glass littering the floor, cracking and crunching beneath your boots. He came to a stop before one of the broken mirrors, something catching his eye, and stepped through it. You followed after him, careful of the jagged pieces of glass that were still attached to the frame.

There was a short hallway behind the mirror, with a door at the end of it. Likely for employees back when this place was still operational. Batman had already dropped down onto one knee, lockpicking equipment in hand, working on the door’s lock. You kept watch, listening for anyone who might potentially be headed this way. A few minutes later, you heard the door creak open.

It hadn’t been open for even a few seconds before the smell hit you. It had you coughing hard and gagging, though nothing came up. You covered your nose with your arm, hoping to try and block out some of the smell. It felt like it was all over you, coating your hair, skin and the inside of your throat and nose. You had no idea if you were ever going to be able to get it off of you. It was a smell of rot, but not like what you had been breathing in throughout the funhouse so far. This was far, far worse. The only thing you could think was that this was what death must smell like. Which had your stomach churning.

Other than a few coughs when the door first opened, Batman didn’t seem to be overly effected by the smell. It made you wonder just how many times he had to have encountered the stench before for it to not effect him as much as it was effecting you. You were about to ask him to confirm that what you thought you were smelling was exactly that, when you were stopped by the sound of laughter.

“Are those—”

“Hyenas? Yes,” he cut you off. “Two of them, to be exact. Stay close.”

Hyenas? Who of Gotham’s criminals kept hyenas again? You racked your brain for the answer. It came to you as you followed him further in. Harley Quinn. She kept hyenas. You were only aware of that because everytime she did something it was big, televised and all over social media.

“Harley Quinn is here?”

“Most likely, but even if she’s not here currently she would have left something behind,” he replied. “Either way we should stay on high alert. She’s become even more dangerous since Joker’s death.”

“Didn’t she kill him?”

“Yes, in a slaughter house. There wasn’t much left of him.”

Though he didn’t go into detail, your mind unprovoked conjured up an image of what likely happened, making you cringe.

“You saw?”

He was silent for a moment before finally answering you. “Yes. I arrived too late to stop her.”

As you continued deeper into the funhouse, the smell of rot grew stronger, making you gag again. The hyenas’ laughter had stopped by now, which made you even more anxious. At least before, when they were making noise, you could have pinpointed where they were.

After walking down a maze fo corridors that all looked the same as each other, the two of you soon came to a room where the smell was it’s strongest. It wasn’t hard to see why. You didn’t know what this room would have been when the funhouse was being used, but now it had a large cage in the centre of it. There were two hyenas with spiked collars with in the cage, surrounded by bones and fighting over a piece of meat. It looked fresh, meaning they had been fed recently. Harley was probably close by then.

The bigger of the two won the fight and ran of with its prize. While the smaller one now had its attention fixed on you and Batman. Its ears came forward as it sniffed the air intensely. You were grateful for the bars the stood between you and the hyenas.

There was a couple of desks shoved into the corner of the the room, piled with various papers and files and there was a map of Gotham attached to a corkboard, sitting just above the desks. While you had been focused on Harley’s pets, Batman had already made his way over to the desk and was going through the papers.

“She stole them from the zoo an hour afterwards,” he answered your unasked question, like he could read your mind.

You nodded and moved away from the cage, deciding to help him go through the papers to help him. Only for him to bat your hands way and glaring at you for getting in his way.

“Only trying to help!” you snapped.

“Then keep watch,” he grumbled, looking way from you and continuing to focus on the task at hand.

Folding your arms across your chest, your turned away from the desk to survey the rest of the room. If Harley was still around, after feeding the hyenas, she wasn’t going to be getting the drop on the two of you. As you kept watch, you listened to the way he was sutling through the papers.

Wondering what was taking so long, you briefly looked over your shoulder, watching how he shuffled through the papers and kept looking up at the map. Trying to match the information with the scribbles perhaps? Before you could think to ask, his head snapped up and you found yourself being thrown across the room.

You hit the floor, hard. Pain radiated through your arm and ribs at how awkward your landing was. Your arm, thankfully, hadn’t been broken in the fall, but with the way your ribs hurt from just shallow breaths you figured a couple of them had to be broken. As you pushed yourself up from the ground, hissing as your arm protested, you looked back over to where you had just been standing.

Batman laid on the floor, completely still, whilst Harley Quinn stood over him, an almost comically large mallet in her hands. How the hell was she carrying that thing, let alone managing to swing it?

She looked away from his body and over to you.

“Who are you? Batsy’s newest sidekick or just the stand in until Catwoman comes back?” she taunted, a smile on her face.

You pushed down the anger you could feel rising in you at her comment. You couldn’t let her get a rise out of you. Doing so could, and most likely would, get both you and Batman killed. If that initial hit from the mallet hadn’t already killed him. You really hoped that it hadn’t. One of your hands came up to your utility belt and pressed the SOS button there. Though you were sure you could take Harley on, Batman was still in need of serious and immediate medical attention and you seriously doubted you would be able to haul him out of here by yourself.

“The silent type like him huh? Ugh, how boring!” She rolled her eyes.

She charged for you, her mallet at the ready. You waited until the last second to jump out of the way. The resulting swing made Harley stumble and almost fall over. While she had the strength to lift and swing the mallet, her control over it seemed to depend whether or not she hit someone with it. You could work with that.

You kept light on your feet, dodging each of her swing. The aim right now was to try to tire her out, before you got tired yourself. Which would hopefully give you an opening to take her out.

“Stop moving!” she yelled as you dodged again. The time, instead of hitting air, the mallet smashed into the door of the cage. The door squeaked as it swung open and banged against the bars of the cage. She laughed manically and pointed at you. “Babies! Get her!”

The hyenas whooped and giggled as they ran out of their cage, baring their teeth as the headed straight for you. You didn’t want to hurt them, at the same time you really didn’t fancy getting ripped apart by them. You narrowly avoided the bigger on as it lunged for you and kicked out at the other one, trying to force it back. You went to reach for your belt, but a gunshot rang out, making you jump.

“Uh uh uh! My babies can’t use flash grenades so neither can you! The next bullet goes into your leg if I see you reaching for that pesky belt again!” Harley was now sat on one of the desks. Her mallet was propped up next to it and a gun in her hand. Batman was still laying on the ground, unmoving. God, you wished he would just spring back up and surprise her. But he wasn’t going to. This was all up to you.

The hyenas were well coordinated, doing their best to get you to jump back into either one of their jaws. Which you really didn’t want. You could smell the rotten meat stuck deep within their sharp teeth. You were sure that a single bite from either of them would likely be singing your death certificate. The longer this went on for the more chance they had to do that. You were going to be bitten if you didn’t find a way to either render them unconscious or scare them.

As you did your best to avoid the hyenas, you were getting closer and closer to Harley. Who was getting more and more annoyed that her “babies” hadn’t ripped you apart yet. Taking both her and the hyenas by surprise, you darted forward and grabbed the mallet, doing your very best to swing it. It hit one of the hyenas, making it yelp as it slid across the floor. When it climbed back up onto its feet, it ran out of the room, the other one following close behind. You let go of the mallet and it hit the floor with a loud thump.

“How dare you!” she screamed, the gun she held was now pointed directly at you. Though you jumped out of the way as she pulled the trigger, pain flared through your side. Ignoring the pain in your side, you darted forward again. Disarming her with a kick and slamming her head down into the desk, successfully knocking her out cold.

Your hand went to your side and when you pulled it away again, it was covered in your blood.

“Fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand back against your side. You really hoped that the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital.

After handcuffing her, you left Harley laying where she was and dropped down by Batman’s side. “You had better not be dead,” you told him. Using your non-bloodied hand, you slipped it beneath his cowl to get to his neck. You sighed in relief when you finally found his pulse. You removed your hand and slumped against the desk. Now all you had to do was wait for help to arrive and hope that her thugs or hyenas didn’t end up coming back beforehand.

So much for today being a good day.

Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000 @geminicinderella @warsaur @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @jdream55 @thedeadlythoughts

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x fem!reader #batman imagine #bruce wayne imagine #under your skin verse #my writing

156 notes · View notes

improbable-outset · 8 months

Text

𝐈𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧-𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈

(Part 1 here)

Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 ★ | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 ✎ | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Food (?), Brief hospital settings, memory loss, medical examining, head trauma, post injury, Wife!Reader. Reader is just so lost in all this :(

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @thel0velykey190 @oharaludes @deputy-videogamer

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re finally given a diagnosis from the hospital on why you’re experiencing memory loss. After being discharged, Miguel leads you through the city of Nueva York and shows you memories of your shared life. However one question still nags your mind: what was the cause of the accident?

𝐀/𝐍: I’m not the sentimental type but I know Miguel will be, especially with reader’s cooking 🥹🫠

It’s been several days since you woke up from your comatose state. Everything was far out of your reach, even your memory of your husband. During those days while you were staying in the hospital, the nurse had been taking different tests to identify the cause of your memory loss. You had to move from different departments in the hospital including the Emergency Department and Neurophysiology Department. You were assessed with various aspects of your brain function including your reflexes and brain coordination. Though the most daunting part was imaging studies where they had to scan around the head area to identify anything unusual in your brain functioning or blood flow. You were uncomfortable with the thought of lying down and sliding into the tunnel, which seemed to swallow you whole. It didn’t help that they had to strap you to the bed to ensure you stayed still while the scan was on but Miguel was there with you throughout the procedure, constantly reassuring you and reminding you that it was important to do these tests so you could have a better understanding on what’s going on with your mental state.

But even with his constant presence, you still couldn’t shake off the drowning feeling of being lost. It was suffocating at times and you knew Miguel was trying his best to make you feel comfortable and safe as a husband should but no matter how hard you tried, Miguel just couldn’t feel like home to you; even if you didn’t really know what home was.

After the CT scan, you were given a diagnosis and the doctors had told you that you have a Traumatic Brain Injury and the memory loss was caused by Post-Traumatic Anemia. Your initial reaction was pure confusion - it all sounded like mere words to you until they explained that some regions in your brain were damaged after the accident. The thought made you feel uneasy. You realised that these damaged regions held the key to your core memories that you’ll never recover from. You couldn’t even remember what led up to the accident but whatever it was must’ve been something disastrous. After finalising everything, you were prescribed pain killers for the headaches and were discharged from the hospital, now sitting on the passenger side of Miguel’s car and on your way home. The car ride was quiet but comfortable. However, there was the queasy feeling of anticipation that settled at the pit of your gut not only because of the diagnosis but also with whatever lies ahead in the future, making you fidget in your seat; your clothes brushing against the leather seat was the only noise in the car that filled the silence. Miguel seemed to notice and tried to distract you from your thoughts.

“Mi amor, do you recognise these streets? Are you familiar with where we are?” Miguel looked at you briefly as he spoke before his eyes were on the road again. Every street looked the same to you especially now when it was dark out and all you could catch were streetlights and headlights.

“Barely…” You replied dryly. You scanned your surroundings and tried to jog your memory again. The bustling metropolis with its constant car honking, swarming pedestrians and the distant whine of sirens was a significant contrast to the still hospital room being engulfed by pale walls and the sickly sweet smell of disinfectant. Sure, the hospital was chaotic sometimes but it was still organised and everyone had their own roles and knew what to do. Here in the streets, everyone was unpredictable with where they were going to go. Some formed crowds like a moth surrounding a light bulb and some were walking alone. Even though it was well past rush hour and it was late, the streets were still packed.

“Barely? So you do recognise it a little?” Miguel said, his voice had some optimism to it. He glanced back at you again and tried to read your expression.

“Yeah…. I remember being surrounded by buildings and lights like this before but I don’t know exactly where we are.” You knew that you lived in Nueva York which was a busy city and was always surrounded by tall buildings but you couldn’t distinguish any of them or any of the landmarks.

“That’s alright mi amor… it’ll take some time getting used to. We’re almost home now.” Miguel was now driving to a quieter neighbourhood with less people and more residential areas. The streets were now filled with houses and garages. Miguel parked up the car in front of one of the houses and killed the engine.

“We’re here…home sweet home.” He announced. He got out of the car first before going to the passenger side and opening the door for you. You stepped out of the car and observed the exterior of the house. Miguel opened the front door and gestured for you to follow him. You were first introduced to the hallway that led you to the living room.

“This is our place?” You asked, taking in the interior. The living room was pretty spacious only because there wasn’t too much furniture around. The decor was pretty simple with a few paintings on the wall which made the room feel more cozy. The room was illuminated with a warm gentle glow of the wall sconces that were strategically lined on the walls and casted comforting shadows around the room.

“Sí mi amor. We’ve made this a home together.” He then took you to the kitchen which was half the size of the living room but it was still just as welcoming, with a small dining table and two chairs. You imagined how unbearable it must’ve been for Miguel to sit there alone for so long with an empty chair in front of him, the chair where you were supposed to be. “How about I make you some dinner…I’m sure you’re bored of eating the hospital's bland food.” He chuckled before gathering the ingredients in the pantry.

“You don’t have to go through extra trouble for me.”

“Trouble? Cooking for my beautiful wife is never trouble, mi vida.” He smirked almost as if what you said was plain nonsense. Your heart soared regardless. A change of food choices was needed. Even though you couldn’t remember what Miguel’s food was like, you still looked forward to whatever he had planned and food made by his own hands made it even more special. The kitchen was now full of the aroma of spices and oil with the sound of sizzling from the pan. A few moments later, Miguel returned to you with two plates full of food and put one in front of you with the steam hitting your nostrils.

“Thank you. It looks lovely.” You took a bite with your fork and were blown away with new flavours and spices. The texture was just right, now that it was easier to swallow solid food.

“How does it taste, hermosa?” Miguel asked, a hint of apprehension reflected in his eyes.

“It’s delicious! Definitely better than the hospital food.” You beamed, taking another mouth full. Miguel watched you in amusement.

“Thank you, but it will never be as good as your cooking.”

“I could cook better than this?” The statement sounded hard to believe.

“Sí…you know the night before the incident you made an amazing dinner and there were a lot of leftovers.” He paused, a smile tugged on his lips as he recalled the memory of that night - it must’ve been really special to him. “I decided to freeze it so I could preserve it as long as I could. I was hoping I could have a piece of you with me whenever I was having dinner while you were still in a coma. It was like you were there with me.”

“Really? Miguel, I’m flattered.” Everything Miguel had told you so far would always bring a shock to you but this carried a lot more weight to it. You tried to imagine yourself in this kitchen, cooking a meal for the two of you. You were probably very passionate about everything you made and Miguel would come home to you with a freshly cooked meal. Or maybe you only cooked just to survive and made whatever was available and Miguel would appreciate it anyways. Regardless, the fact that Miguel preserved your cooking must’ve meant that your food was decent enough at least. It clearly held a special place in his heart. After dinner, Miguel led you out of the kitchen.

“Come on, mi vida. Let me show you our bedroom.” He held your hands as he spoke and took you up the stairs.

The bedroom was just as simple yet cozy as the rest of the house. The first thing you noticed was the bed that was placed in the middle against the far wall. A testament of your shared space. The bed itself looked inviting with its crisp white linen and plumped pillows layer out nicely. On each side were two nightstands with a collection of objects on each. One side had a collection of old books and the opposite had a vase with a bouquet of dried roses.

“I want to show you something.” Miguel said as he opened a drawer from one of the cabinets and took out a thick book.

“What is it?” You asked. He took a seat on the bed and gestured for you to sit with him, patting the empty space besides him. You followed suit and sat on the bed, your arm pressed against his strong ones making your cheeks heat up a little. You were still not used to being in close proximity to his muscles yet.

“Our wedding photo album.” He said as he opened the book to show you the first few pictures. There were some photos of you taken separately and some standing together. You ran your fingers over the pages, studying each picture, more specifically the dress you were wearing. You had to admit to yourself that you looked magical in your wedding dress. It was flattering on your body type and your hair was styled beautifully with some floral decorations etched in your locks.

“This is ... incredible. Is that the wedding dress I chose? It’s beautiful.” You said in awe, still marveling at the pictures.

“Yes, you chose this dress, mi amor. It took you almost a week to finally pick the perfect one. You were radiant that day. Though, I think you would’ve looked good in anything.” Miguel commented. You turned the page to a picture of you and Miguel at the altar. You were hand in hand and facing each other, the picture captured the both of you laughing at something. This must’ve been when you were exchanging your vows.

“Tell me about this moment.” You pointed at the photo.

“That was when you tried to steal a kiss before I could say ‘I do.’” He chuckled at the memory. It was frustrating that you couldn't recall any of this, especially the fact that your relationship with Miguel must’ve been full of banter like this. But flipping through the album gave you a glimpse of your marriage dynamics. You hoped that things will be carefree between the two of you like that again.

“Thank you for showing me this, Miguel…” you smiled, your heart felt a little fuller now after seeing those pictures but you noticed Miguel’s expression dropped as he closed the book and placed it on one of the nightstands. He turned to face you again, his eyes flicking with something you couldn’t read.

“Mi amor,” he held onto your fingers again and caressed the knuckles with his thumbs, just like how he did in the hospital, the moment you woke up from your comatose state for the first time. “I know this will sound sudden but I have to know…do you love me?” His voice trembled. The question took you by surprise, you didn’t expect to be asked about this. You thought for a moment and tried to come up with an answer without sounding dismissive. Miguel looked deep into your eyes, desperately trying to read your expression.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Miguel.” You began, your voice was laced with uncertainty. The room became hushed, recognising the gravity of the situation. “…but everything is so distant and out of my reach. It’s hard to love someone that you barely remember.” Miguel’s expression revealed his pain as he listened intently to your answer. The air seemed to be amplified by the fragility of the situation as he continued.

“What about attraction? Are you drawn to me, even a little?” There was pain evident in his voice now as he spoke. You hesitated as you tried to find the words and navigated through your complex thoughts.

“I feel something…but it’s like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. But the thought of losing that connection we had, the thought of losing us…it’s tearing me apart.” He released his grip from your fingers and fell limply on his lap. You desperately wanted to comfort him but you couldn’t find the words to and you couldn’t lie about your feelings either. All you could do was watch and you felt a little useless not knowing what to do.

“Miguel, can I get a little closer to you? Can we lay down and cuddle on the bed…on our bed?” You asked, hoping you could lift his somber mood. He looked back up at you and smiled after hearing you ask that.

“Sí. There’s nothing I would want more than to be close to you right now.” You both settled into the bed, facing each other with one of Miguel’s big arms wrapped around your waist and you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “I missed having you in my arms like this, mi esposa.” He whispered, his breath fanning against your ear. You were engulfed by the soft comforter, almost like the bed recognised your presence and missed you laying on it. You imagined Miguel felt the same just like the two-seated dining table in the kitchen.

“It must've been torture having to sleep here alone for that long.” You commented.

“You have no idea…” He held you closer, afraid to let you slip away with his touch leaving an essence trail of musk and cinnamon. The two of you stayed in this position for a while in silence, until you remembered about Miguel’s work, breaking the stillness of the moment.

“Miguel, will you have to go back to work tomorrow?” You asked reluctantly.

“I’m afraid so, mi esposa.”

“But I don’t want you to leave me alone. Please…” your voice trembled.

“I know I know. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can. But duty calls and I have to go.” His voice softened, trying to get you to understand. He hated leaving you alone especially in the current circumstances you were in but there are some things he just can’t ignore.

“You sound like a superhero saying that.” You joked, attempting to bring some light into the situation. But you didn’t expect to feel Miguel’s muscles clench around you, almost like what you said triggered something in his mind. The air thickened with a palpable tension that was almost suffocating. The change in mood made you retreat from his neck to see his face. His eyes looked like they were lost in thought while his body had stiffened, the sight made you slightly uncomfortable.

“Miguel… did I say something wrong?” You watched him blink rapidly out of his trance and relax his muscles. He looked back at you and his gaze softened again.

“You said nothing wrong mi amor…I promise I’ll explain everything about my job in due time okay? Do you think you could use tomorrow to familiarise yourself around the house while I’m gone? There’s more photo albums you could look at.” You were still hesitant about all of this but you didn’t want to get in the way of whatever was important to Miguel and his job so you nodded slowly, unable to voice your agreement. Miguel reached for your face, caressing your cheek and brushing his thumb lightly over your lower lip. He leaned in and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you for understanding,” He murmured, voice filled with relief. As the night progressed, you couldn’t help but wonder what was so important about Miguel’s job that you had to wait to find out and why nobody had told you about what caused the accident.

No because now I’m getting more ideas on how to expand this. I was thinking of posting another chapter, explain the cause of the accident (yes it does involve Miguel being Spider-Man). Should I do it or just leave it to your interpretation??🤔

Maybe have Miguel’s POV this time?? I didn’t think I’d get this far?? Also first post-coma kiss??? I was gonna add that in this chapter but I think readers already been though so much and I want to wait for that perfect pivotal moment.

#Miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #★— ayrus writes

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jin0 · 2 years

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When Fire Meets Fate [Mitch Rapp]

(gif is not mine, all credits go to the author)

Summary : You couldn't feel feelings or emotions like normal humans did. But you could when your best friend's brother, Mitch the firefighter, had something to do with it.

Pairing : Firefighter!Mitch Rapp x Reader

Warning : 18+ ONLY, MINOR DNI, mentions of fire related lingo, reader is in danger, running (yes it's a warning, I've got asthma), smut, titty worship, oral (m and f receiving), pussy slapping, fingering, slight creampie, pet names (sunshine and sweetheart), mitch is kinda soft but also really much mitch i guess ??

A/N : first post in a while, this one's for birdie nonnie so hope you enjoy love !!

Destiny had a funny way of letting things happen without any kind of warning or explanation. Everyone always repeated that bullshit about things happening for a reason and God working in mysterious ways but nobody ever tried to go deeper into this, try to explain it a little better. It was all about the vagueness and how mysterious it made them seem.

Well fuck that.

Fuck them and their stupid fate. You were the one in control and you knew it when the stupid choices you made would come back to bite you in the ass. They always did. If there was an omnipotent force to guide and even control each and every one of us, then it was doing a shit job because there was no way the decisions you made could be allowed by the universe. There had to be a pop up warning of some kinds to make you think it through at least one last time before actually doing anything.

To some, that pop up warning was sever anxiety and to other it was a little gut feeling that they enjoyed defying to test out their limits. All in all, you had neither, you were simply… empty. It was funny truly, but it made your life ten times more logical. From an outside point you were probably a psychopath with tendencies to tickle danger for the kick of it. Now, to anyone who knew better, meaning very few people, you were desperate.

It was hilarious really, poor you who simply couldn’t feel that rise in your stomach whenever something was wrong or when you were in danger. You simply couldn’t feel shit.

The doctor’s never understood why you, why or how it started. It wasn’t hereditary or anything, you simply couldn’t feel normal human emotions and you hated it, or at least you tried to. It was difficult to know what hate felt like when again, you didn’t feel things.

You had tried, through various technics and nothing had worked. You never cried when you fell and hurt yourself as a child. You weren’t in pain but it was uncomfortable. You never jumped in joy or even smiled whenever you’d be offered something, as pricy and beautiful as it was. You barely moved whenever someone was threatening you or humiliated you. The way you would look at these people right in their eyes had you nicknamed the Soul Searcher. You never lost an argument because you never let yourself be swayed by emotions such as annoyance or fear.

Your emotional impairment made you one of the best lawyers in the business. It was bad for relationships but great for money and business, so you weren’t in such a bad situation. You had learned to find great pros in a situation that pretty much seemed like a big con, another talent of yours.

For someone who couldn’t feel happiness or joy, you were very positive about most things and you were also very observant, making it very easy for you to study emotions and mimic them. Some called it manipulation, you called it adapting. In a society were everyone felt to a certain extent, it was your duty to try and look like them. You were only blending in.

But what were you supposed to do when strange things were creeping up inside you ? When tingles erupted in your stomach and started exploding all over ? Were you supposed to act like nothing was going on ? Could you do both ? Fake it and act like the little burning feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’t there ?

That was your current situation, the predicament you found yourself in as you watched your office burn down slowly.

You always worked late and stayed behind to catch up on work. You groaned were not particularly fond of big piles of files and or putting things off. For all you knew, you could be dead tomorrow, so might as well do it today, right ? Well, Death had come knocking on your door that day.

With your headphones screwed around your head and blasting the loudest kind of music, you were fully focused on your work. You were the most efficient for a reason. Only emergencies ever managed to pull you out of it. And it was the case that day, when your best friend called in a hurry after sending her own weight in text messages.

“Please tell me you’re at home or out in a bar ! Tell me you went home early ! Tell me you’re not at the firm !”

You could hear the panic and the sniffles, she was crying.

“I’m at the firm, why ? Is everything alright ?”

She had taken a deep breath to hide a sob and failed miserably.

“Can’t you smell anything ?! T-The building… The building is on fire ! You got to get out of there ! Quickly !”

As soon as you had heard those words, that concentration bubble popped, letting the bitter scent of smoke creep into your nostrils. You couldn’t feel panic or fear but you were also actively avoiding death, so you did what she told you, you acted quickly.

You snatched your laptop and your bags as well as the USB drive containing your life’s entire work and ran, you ran as fast as you could, breathing in the toxic smoke. Maybe not the smartest thing to do. You had realized that when you fell unconscious, a few feet away from the exit door, lazily dodging a falling peace of concrete. It had blocked your way, but it didn’t matter anymore, not when you were passing out.

You could hear and see the bright light of a firetruck and the screams of the firefighters calling out for you, one of the voices sounding a little more familiar than the rest, and letting those bubbles explode in your stomach again. What a strange feeling.

When you started waking up, you felt comfort and warmth heating the side of your face. Nuzzling against whatever it was, you when it traveled to your forehead but quickly settled, too exhausted to fight when you felt good either way. The hand on your stomach, caressing it slowly felt good too, very good.

Suddenly jolting awake and sitting up, you looked around frantically, swatting away the hands on your skin and jumping down of whatever you’d been laying on this whole time. With all this movement, the dizziness was quick to get you and lay a cloud of nausea and confusion of you. The reflux of whatever pastry was in your stomach made your sour throat burn and your eyes water.

Was this pain ? Was it what it felt like to not feel good ? To suffer and be able to notice it ? To understand it and recognize it ?

“You have to lie down, otherwise you’ll feel even worse.”

Between the ringing in your ears and your shakiness, the faint voice of the person who had been touching you earlier managed to reach you. When you felt yourself falling again, arms wrapped around you before you could violent meet the floor.

“God, you’re a pain in the ass. Even worse than before.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes at a memory he had.

Composing yourself slowly, you took deep breath to gather your wits and register all the informations flooding your brain. As you felt your heartbeat slow down and your stomach settle, you slowly turned to look into the eyes of the man who’d been spinning your world around in such a short period. Or a longer one than what you were ready to admit.

“M-Mitch…”

“Happy to see that you remember me Sunshine. Does Stacy know you’re here ? She called me in a panic saying you worked in the building that burned down.”

You stayed silent and unmoving, practically frozen in time. You were loosing it out here, there was just no other way to describe it.

Mitch Rapp, the bane of your existence if you could describe it.

You did not hate or love, nor did you feel annoyance. But this man made you feel something very close to it and you were not pleased. You’d known him since you were thirteen, when you met Stacy. She’d been the most intriguing person ever to your younger self and still to this day. When everyone ended up leaving you because of your incapacity to feel like normal people did, she had stuck around and made sure to let it be known that she was not going anywhere. She would follow you around and ask you questions after questions. You’d never been bothered by your condition so you answered but the surprise was when she revealed the notebook she kept with everything you’d had told her about yourself. She learned happily and compensated your lack of emotions by what seemed to be an overabundance of them in her. She was necessary to you just like you were to her.

Now, one thing that you were certainly not needing was Mitch Rapp, Stacy’s big brother and an absolute pain in your behind. From the end of middle school to the end of high school, he made sure to push your buttons as far as they could go, in a simple desperate attempt pull himself out of his constant boredom. It being invasive questions or small touches in hallways when no one could see, he did it all.

The only barrier he never crossed was sex and public humiliation. You believe that he respected you to some extent, but his need to amuse himself seem to top it all, and you seemed to be the most interesting thing ever to him. Because where you naturally couldn’t feel and had taught yourself to fake it, he could feel emotions to their extreme and taught himself to simply not feel. Polar opposites, that’s what you were. And maybe that’s what had you develop the closet think you could feel to a crush on your best friend’s big brother. No matter how annoying you found him, he still did things to your heart that no one ever did.

And maybe you’d been far from a simple crush on him, using the term as an excuse. It was a good one right ?

It was even more fun to see how different you were because when you found a way to always be positive no matter what, he believed in nothing but himself. To him, the world was only toying with you and you could let it happen or fight back.

Nothing could link you both other than Stacy, so why was it that he managed to ignite such strange things in you ? It being happiness, interest, annoyance or lust.

You would always be ashamed of it, but you couldn’t help it. It was out of your control, once again, and this time it shattered your whole world.

How ironic of Destiny to choose the man you seemed to avoid at all cost as the only being to successfully make you feel.

It being a simple word or a whisper. Him leaning down to reach you and hear the words you’d mumble whenever he did successfully annoy you. All of it, it made your heartbeat rise, your skin heat up and your hands turned clammy. You even stuttered with him and you hated it. For so long, you wished to be normal but it happening with him and him only was something you couldn’t accept.

“Are you done staring ? Or is it your way of admitting that you like what you see ?”

His deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making your insides shake and while a new wave of confusion and anxiety rose inside of you. You completely ignored his words, staying still and staring at him with a need to jump his bones. Was it the uniform ? Or your high school crush just jumping out after years of repression ? You had done an incredible job avoiding the man so seeing him now, all dirty and looking absolutely divine in his firefighter uniform did have its effect on you. The famous “men in uniforms” type of feeling. It was indeed powerful and vicious too.

This wasn’t good at all. Why were you thinking this way ? Taking time to stare at the parts of him that were exposed and feeling genuine lust wasn’t supposed to happen. You needed to leave.

Looking around, you checked for anything that could be yours, which you grabbed quickly before dashing away, as fast as your current state allowed. You had been running a short distance before finding a place to hide and breath as much as you could. Your throat burned and your limbs felt like they would fall off in a second, but you couldn’t stay so close to him.

As you crouched down, a hand ever your heart and yours eyes screwed shut, you tried to slow your heartbeat but you couldn’t. You could still hear his voice and see his face in your mind. Even his scent tormented you, so much so that you could practically feel the warmth it carried.

Slowly realizing the situation, you looked up to find him there, looking down on you with your phone and your keys. .

“You can’t outrun a firefighter, mostly not with lungs like yours. I bet it burns huh ? Come on, let me help.” He breathed out, crouching down to your level.

When he reached towards you to touch you, your body acted on its own, jerking back and away from his touch. He was quick to react and surrender by raising both his hands.

“You’re safe, I’m not going to do anything you won’t like. Stacy would kill me anyways if I bothered you, especially today.” He promised, his voice sounding softer than usual and soothing you in a matter of seconds.

Moving slowly, you let him pull you to his chest and wrap you in his arms. You were still dizzy and slightly out of it from running with smoked lungs so you ignored the little yelp you let out when his hand slid under your shirt and under the strap of your bra to be held tightly against your skin. When he started making small circles over your skin with his fingers, you felt yourself sink down on top of him, your entire body melting into a puddle as you felt yourself relax and your heartbeat slow down.

You were no doctor but you were practically certain that the massage had no power to fix a painful breathing system, so you wondered why it felt so good to have him press into your vertebral column and help you relax. Your throat was still sore and you would be coughing for a long while but none of that mattered when Mitch Rapp was doing something to you, something that had you purring in the crook of his neck.

“Yeah, that feels good huh ? You like that Sweetheart ? Tell me how you feel.” He ordered in a low voice, his lips grazing the tip of your earlobe.

You stayed quiet, you couldn’t speak. You knew what would happen if you opened your mouth, the most humiliating sound would come out. You knew you’d let out a sound even worse that a simple yelp and you couldn’t have that.

You didn’t understand feelings very well but you wouldn’t let him get his way just because he was bored, even as an adult. You knew you were feeling something intense, standing on the line separating comfort and pleasure. That separation, you’d been standing on it, practically loosing balance each and every time Mitch Rapp was around and toying with you.

You tried to move, to get up and pry yourself out of his grasp but it was two against one, Mitch and your body siding together to fight your mind. He kept you close to him, held you tightly while playing with the hooks of your bra. Maybe you had jumped into the lion’s den by allowing him to help. Because now you were stuck, fighting the urge to respond vocally and let it be known that you wanted more, needed more.

These feelings and emotions, they felt good, so good. The kind of good you never had the chance of experiencing before. This was too much pleasure for you to simply detach yourself and let it go to waste. You wanted to discover more, dive deeper into what it was.

That yelp that you had been trying to conceal, it suddenly shot out of your mouth when he swiftly move you on top of him, having you straddle his muscular thighs. Maybe it was then that your body lost power and control, your brain taking over once again when you felt his bulge press between your ass.

“When I tell you to tell me how you feel, that’s not a suggestion Sweetheart. Let me hear it, how good I make you feel.” He growled, pressing you down on him by the waist.

This was far from simple firefighter intervention. This was Mitch, the Mitch from high school who’d corner you in hallways trying to get you to show him how you felt and what you looked like when you did.

Looking into his eyes, you saw it, that glint of excitement. Not lust, but interest. You were still intriguing to him and he was letting it be known that he hadn’t changed.

You shouldn’t have allowed him around you, not again, not like this, no matter what he made you feel. You were being flooded by emotions, this was what it was like to be overwhelmed. And maybe it had you tear up a little bit, but you were new to this and you didn’t know how to process them.

Looking around you again, you found all your belongings and even the one’s he’d kept. You expected him to keep you locked against him but no. As soon as you showed any signs of wanting to leave, he let go of you. You were surprised but also grateful, standing up on shaky legs and walking away as fast as you could. Your body felt like it would float away and you could still feel his gaze on you, fixated and piercing through your soul.

When you got near the outside of the hospital you’d ran out of, you were lucky to find Stacy waiting for you with a bone crushing hug and a speech about being aware of your surroundings. She might’ve also mentioned her brother telling her your location so that she could pick you up.

When you arrived at your place after convincing Stacy that you could survive on your own and would call if anything was wrong, you found yourself leaning against your door, exhausted beyond measure. You tried to move but you couldn’t, the mind whipping memories of Mitch Rapp playing with the most sensitive parts of you and actually having an effect.

Because with lack of physical or emotional reaction, came lack of sexual pleasure. You just, didn’t enjoy yourself, no matter how long you would try or how good he felt. None of this worked and maybe you were also at fault, constantly comparing them to the little high school crush you couldn’t get rid of. Maybe it was even time to admit that you might’ve loved him a little. Or a lot. You wanted to feel pleasure but to this day, you had to lie and fake orgasms to get out of awkward situations.

As you slid down your door, locking it for the night, you felt the pulsating sensation between your legs, the kind that had started when you were sixteen and would only happen around your best friend’s big brother.

Nothing ever happened but God, your body and mind agreed that you wished it would. You felt your insides scream at you for depriving them of him and what he clearly wanted, just as much if not more than you. Your mind could still vividly feel the large bulge throbbing under you and it was enough for you to flood your panties again.

You were ashamed of your reaction but how were you supposed to control what you weren’t familiar with ?

Reaching down to take of your pants, you mewled loudly when your fingers grazed your dripping core and pressed on your sensitive bud a little longer than what would be appropriate. You had the memory of his fingers pressing your back and soothing your raging heart, his breath against your neck and his strong scent sticking to your nostrils.

Maybe you were too out of it but you weren’t going to let this go to waste, pushing three fingers inside your wet pussy and inhaling deeply when you felt actual pleasure. You felt good. In an attempt to mimic his size, you parted your fingers open and played with your walls. You couldn’t breath properly, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth and your head thrown back. Letting out little noises, your let your fingers rub your insides as you let them go back and forth inside you.

You could feel it vividly, his own member, thick and raging with hormones and lust but also so much more, just waiting to dirty you all over.

Your fingers soaked and your juices dripping all over your lower parts, you cried out in pleasure when you felt your high get close. You cried out in pleasure, his name coming out a few times while you reached down with your second hand. When your thumb grazed your clit you were done for, instantly. This was what it felt like to feel pleasure and to cum.

You sat there, dazed and trembling, for a few minutes before standing up and finally entering your bedroom. After a very much needed cold shower, you dropped on your bed, your bathrobe falling to the floor. You sunk against the mattress, covered yourself and fell asleep in no time, desperately hoping that the night would erase the lingering presence of Mitch Rapp on your sensitive skin.

Maybe if you had been awake just a little longer, you would’ve seen him, leaning against his car, as he stared up to your window.

The night was ineffective. You remembered it all after eighteen days and you hated it. Everywhere you went, you could feel his gaze on you, the way he looked at you while he massaged your back. You could see it all and feel it all as if it was happening all over again. The memory you used to be praised for was now killing you a little bit each and every day.

But to add salt to you wounds, Stacy had given Mitch your number. And for a man who seemed to hate the majority of people and just about any kinds of discussion, he was fucking chatty. It started with simple messages asking how you were doing, then it turned into the kinds that would send your heart into a panic. He was slowly getting you used to his presence, you could feel it but the question was why ?

Why after all these years of not seeing each other, no matter how close your circles were, was he suddenly finding interest in you again ?

This question, you didn’t expect to find a response of any kind. But it seems you wouldn’t have any other choice when you found him, standing there, behind your door with a bag in hand.

You stood there, in your pajamas, looking at him with what seemed to be a blank expression but hid the most violent of hurricanes.

“Are you going to keep staring or are you going to let me in ?” He tilted his head with what looked like a smile behind extending the bag towards you. “I brought you a care package.”

You stayed quiet but moved out of the way to let him in. As he assed by, his strong scent infiltrated your nostrils and the entirety of your body, making you clench your exposed thighs together. The scent of smoke, wet grass, rain and pine trees, all of it forming the perfect mix to make your brain melt and your body react out of control.

When you felt ready to face him inside your home you finally faced away from the door but crashed directly into something. You looked up to find him staring down on you, a slight look of amusement.

“Where you sniffing me ?”

Fuck, that was humiliating. You tried to open your mouth to respond but no sound came out, just a string of weird faces and silence. You didn’t think you could react any worse, until you felt his hand slide around your waist, letting his fingers graze your skin and leave a soft burn behind.

“Tell me, Sunshine. Were. You. Sniffing. Me. And this time, I want to hear sounds coming out of your mouth. I bet you sound amazing when you’re being honest with yourself.”

His eyes were staring straight into yours and you felt mike he was pillaging your soul, trying to find the truth he was talking about. Who was named the Soul Searcher here ?

For a short second, you started questioning his motives, why was he insisting on seeing you react that much ? It wasn’t as if you would be crying of joy or breaking bones at each reaction so why ? You frowned , staring up at him, before you picked his hand off of you and laid a hand on his chest to push him away.

“Mitch Rapp, I don’t know what you’re hopping to find here, but we’re not teenagers anymore and I won’t let you toy with me and have your way because you’re bored.” You said, unable to conceal the slight annoyance in your voice.

Instead of backing off, he seemed even more amused this time.

“Is that what annoyance looks like on you ? I was working towards something else but I’m not going to complain, this is good, very good.” He asked, a curious grin on his face.

“Stop saying stupid things and go to the living room. It’s that way.” You exhaled, turning towards your kitchen area and walking away.

You met him in the living area, trying to ignore his presence as much as you could. You were feeling crushed under his aura in your own home and you wouldn’t tolerate it, but it seemed like he wanted to see you fight back.

You shook your head, ignoring all your questions and sat in the opposite couch.

“Why are you here ?”

“Well, you’re not very responsive over texts and even less for a phone call. I was worried, I pulled you out of a burning building remember ?” He joked, dropping the heavy bag on your coffee table.

“I pulled myself out of there, Mitch. And do you visit all the victims you save ?”

“No, just you. I came here to check on you too. Make sure your lungs would be fine. Stacy told me you still sucked at taking care of yourself so I needed to make sure you were taking good care of yourself. I was worried you know ? You tried to sprint out of the hospital as soon as you woke up.”

You tilted your head to the side, showing your confusion once more. You doubted the honesty of his motives but you weren’t going to debate him, you did suck at taking care of yourself. You shrugged and slide to the side, allowing him to sit next to you. You stayed still and silent when he grabbed your chin and asked you to open up. You waited until he was done with your mouth to proceed.

“Aren’t you like, off duty or something ?”

He chuckled, hearing your vague words.

“Off duty ?”

“Yeah. Firefighters, they’re off duty when they’re not working, right ?”

“No. Us, Sunshine, we’re not off duty. That’s for cop’s and soldiers.”

“Yeah, same stuff, except you don’t have a gun.” You responded, watching him check on your arms and neck. “Wait, but what do you know about my health anyways ? You’re a firefighter, that’s not your job.”

“I know. But I know my way around basic first aid and things like that, so I’m making sure.”

You wanted to smile, some other things never changed. He always had a thing for taking care of others or saving them. He saved you from countless situations and was always the one to fix you up when you were hurt. Being a firefighter was his calling. And the uniform looked damn good on him.

Looking down on his body with a blank expression, you observed and compared with his looks from years ago. You only ever truly saw him on few occasions and each one had your insides doing backflips. Stacy always made fun of you for gawking at him but she understood, her brother looked good. She even bragged that it was the genetics,

“Well, that’s nice of you. But I’m fine. So you can leave, and take the care package with you. It’ll be useless.” You declared, pushing his hands off of you.

You both stared at each other for a good minute before he removed himself from your grasp to hold you instead. When his hand took hold of yours, he pulled you closer to him, forcing you to lay a leg over his. In a swift move, he grabbed both your wrists in one hand while the other fell on your exposed thighs. Shorts were good to sleep when it was this hot outside, but definitely not when Mitch Rapp was in your living room, playing the deadly kind of game.

“Why are you always trying to get rid of me ?” He asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. You tried to respond but the sound were cut off again when his hand slide higher on your skin.

You looked down, inhaling loudly and biting your lower lip to hide the embarrassing sounds threatening to come out. He watched it all, letting go of your wrists to pull it out from underneath your teeth.

“Do I make you uncomfortable ? Do you hate it when I’m around you ? When I touch you ?”

You managed to free one of your hand, grabbing his wrist to pull his fingers away from your lips, but allowed him to feel your plump lips just a little longer than he should’ve. He looked at them with an unreadable expression but you felt like a lamb standing in front of a wolf, ready to be devoured.

At the thought of being viciously devoured, you couldn’t help the gush of wetness pooling in between your thighs, the sensation of pleasure and desperation infiltrating your mind all over again. You felt it, the heat from last time, it was back and it felt good but also uncomfortable. It wasn’t enough, you needed to quench that thirst flowing all through you.

Without paying much attention, you tried to speak again but this time, opened your mouth wide enough for his finger to slip inside your mouth and rest lazily on your tongue. You saw his eyes darken and heard the low growl erupting in his chest. You lowered his gaze, chuckling as he shook his head, but never took his thumb out of your mouth.

“Fuck…” He sigh, looking at you and warning you with his eyes. “For as long as I’ve known you, Sunshine… You ran from me. Everything I did, you would end up running away or hiding from me. Nothing I did was enough to have you react or stay, and it hasn’t changed.”

Feeling the defiance grow in you, you pulled his thumb out, looking at him with piercing blank eyes.

“Maybe if you stopped trying to get me to react for your own entertainment, I wouldn’t be running. I’m not here to fix your boredom.” You responded, glaring at him.

“Is that what you think ? Did I did all this just because I was bored ?” He asked with narrow eyes, was he angry at your assumption ? When you nodded, you saw his jaw tighten and you couldn’t help but react. Were you into this ? Visible anger, did it turn you on ?

Too busy wondering what new kink you seemed to have, you let your guard down, allowing you to be moved by him, having you sit on his lap again. And there you were, back to the issue you had faced the night of the fire, he was too close for your own sanity.

“Mitch… Let go of me…” You stuttered, trying to maintain your composure but were only met with silence and his firm hands gripping your waist. Younger you was jumping and screaming in happiness but current you wasn’t so happy.

“You keep saying that… That I have to let go of you, stop touching, stop talking to you. But what if I need you Sunshine ? You ever thought of that ?” He whispered the last part, leaning closer to your face. “What if I can’t fucking live without you ?”

This time, his words fall straight down your lower parts, having the exact effect you were trying to avoid. You inhale loudly, trying to avoid his gaze, but he’s quick to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You weren’t the type to cry or feel altogether, but you were ready to cry right now. Why were feelings and emotions so annoying ?

“Why are you bothering me… Why can’t you just leave me and my emotions alone ?!” You asked loudly.

“You think I give a fuck about your emotions ? Sunshine, I don’t care about them. I care about you, that’s all I fucking care about since high school.” He pressed you down on his growing bulge, making you face the pleasure you felt with him. “Every touch in the hallway, every kiss on your cheeks, everything I did, all of it was for you to notice that I was ready to help. Fuck I was borderline desperate to help you and you took it for boredom ? Couldn’t take a fucking step around you without needing to inhale your scent. You even had me loosing it like a fucking idiot every time I saw you inside my house, but to you I was only bored ?”

He was vexed, but still gentle with you, letting you do what you wanted to do. In this moment, you felt all the years of repressed emotions and desires flood you in one big wave that you didn’t even try to contain. All the times you ended up screaming in a pillow because of the things he would say or just how he would say them. Even just looking at you made you feel, and all this time you tried to push it away, to refuse it. Well you were done doing that. For the first time in your life, you allowed yourself to respond to his actions by acting however you pleased too.

When you pressed your core down on him, you didn’t expect him to just let go of you and drop hiss head backwards. He leaned his arms on the back of your couch, a small smile on his face before he looked at you again, his eyes clouded by lust and faint restraint. This man decided to control himself now ?

“You can’t do that Sweetheart… What am I supposed to do when you retaliate ?”

“I-Isn’t that what you want ? For me to respond ?” You attempted to keep your voice as steady as you could despite the knot of moans forming in your throat.

“Is that what it is ? A response ? What are you responding to exactly ? And be clear, I want to hear you say it.”

Now he was teasing you, and for a split second, you felt like a teenager again, like the girl he would corner in hallways, kiss on the cheek and call beautiful when no one but him was watching, when no one but him could see you react. For a split second, you understood everything that he always showed you and you started questioning how good you were at reading people. Because you had read Mitch Rapp completely wrong for years.

“I want you to touch me. I want you to touch me until I feel something… Just like I felt before…” You declared, a sudden boost of confidence surging through you.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, you waiting for his answer and him grinning like an idiot with no thought going through his mind. He needed to do something because you wouldn’t have the strength to do it again.

And in good Mitch fashion, he said nothing and acted.

When you asked him to make you feel, a part of you was worried for what would happen next. Were you ready to face whatever reaction he’d pull out of you ? And how would you react exactly ? Because you weren’t just new to this, you were finally accepting it and maybe it would be too much. You were used to being overwhelmed when he was around and never truly managed to deal with it. You hated the idea of simply untrusting the next events to Destiny but clearly you would have any other choice.

As soon as you spoke the words he had desperately been trying to hear, he lifted you up and marched towards your bedroom. You held onto him, staying quiet and avoiding his piercing eyes on you. If you could see what was going through his mind, you would think that he was crazy. There was no other way to explain it, but he couldn’t help it. The things you had him dreaming all throughout high school and even during adulthood, they tormented him for years.

Mitch Rapp had been in love with you since he was eight years old and you took his actions for a desperate attempt to entertain himself.

It was his fault for not being more direct, more honest with himself. All these times, when you’d smile at him or respond to his usual flirting with you own usual blank expression and wittiness. He just couldn’t help it, even if he tried, and it was certain that he never truly tried. He had wasted too much time acting subtle and discreet when the only thing he wanted was to drop to his knees and worship the very group you walked on.

But it was fine. Because now, he would catch up on years of missed opportunities and do everything his dreams had him hoping for. He would show you exactly how much he meant it when he said that it was never boredom.

As soon as he dropped you on the mattress, he did not waste a second trying to be subtle or gentle with you. He promised to make you feel and would do good on his promise, but he couldn’t think straight currently. All of you was made to ruin him and be ruined by him in return.

He watched your body bounce on the bed and for a second, processed exactly what he intended on doing to you, his cock twitching at the simple memory of your plump ass sitting right on the perfect spot and pulling the plug on any rational thought. At first, he came here to check on you honestly, but seeing you in your pretty silk shorts and tank top, he wanted nothing more than be the reason you wouldn’t be thinking or walking straight for the next few days.

He all but ripped his shirt off, and let it fall to the floor before dropping to his knees and pulling you towards the edge of the bed. You would be lying if you said that this little display of strength didn’t make your dripping cunt throb in desperation. You never wanted to be used so much in your life, ready to do anything to feel.

You pushed your legs apart without his help and were ready to hide your face when he looked at you with amusement and terribly hidden desire. He was amused but nothing had ever made him this hard in his life. He could feel his pulsating cock begging to be freed, pushing against his zipper and desperately trying to reach that sweet pussy of yours. He could see it, the juices dripping out of you and soaking your pretty shorts. He pushed them to the side and practically came on the spot when he came face to face with your exposed core.

You slept with this, and this only. No underwear and had greeted him at the door with this as the only thing covering you.

Wrapping his hands around your full thighs, he pulled you closer, burying his nose between your legs and inhaling the scent of your soaked pussy.

“Fuck Sunshine… Smells like fucking heaven… And bet it tastes even better. Tell me, do you want me to give it a taste ? That would make you feel good, do you want to try ?”

You could barely speak a word, your cunt doing the thinking for you when you pushed it closer to his face. His lips grazed the wet fabric and you let out a cry of pleasure. This was all you needed to truly feel pleasure ? God, he’d truly ruin you in no time.

Tightening his fingers around your flesh, he forced you to stay still and looked straight into your eyes with a commanding gaze.

“I said that you had to tell me sweetheart. Use that pretty brain of yours, and speak. Or do you just want me to leave, since you’re not communicating ?”

“No !” You exclaimed, genuinely worried that he would leave you without touching you. “P-Please… Please Mitch… I’m so… So wet… I n-need more… Please, touch me more…”

Your pleading voice sounded like a melody falling straight from heaven down his dick and erasing just a little more rational thinking out of his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting his go of one of your thigh to stuff his free hand down the front of his jeans. Fuck, this wouldn’t be enough. He frantically pulled it out to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper, quickly freeing his large member and letting out a groan into your cunt.

You let out another cry of pleasure, feeling the vibrations of his deep voice inside you. Letting out little moans of pleasure at his closeness to your core, you couldn’t help but grind against your sheets, feeling your pussy spread around your tiny shorts and give you a little bit of the friction you asked for. You completely forgot about the man in front of you and started grinding against the sheets, shamelessly moaning his name as if he was the one doing anything.

He watched you, hand wrapped around his thick cock and jerking himself off to you as if he was a in high school again. He dreamt of being able to see you pleasure yourself before, but this was beyond any of his dreams. Gripping on the sheets with one hand, he knew he was done for when you used your second hand to spread your folds open and give him the perfect view of your modesty.

“Mitch… F-Fuck, Mitch please… Please… More, please, gimme more…” You sobbed, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

His hand tightened around his girth, slowly moving up and down and letting his thumb move over his tip. Fuck, he was hard, beyond hard, he was ready to bust with barely any contact. He wasn’t a difficult man when it came to sex, but you were making him and easy one. Easy to please and ruin. The kind that would only ever find pleasure in his hand because the girl of his dreams was too far away from him.

You spread your thighs even wider, giving him space to dive in and rub his nose wherever he wanted. You skin was as soft as those fucking shorts, so tender and easy to mark. He inhaled your scent and quickly kissed your inner thigh tenderly. You looked down on him and your cunt quivered when both your eyes met. He kept kissing you, so gentle and sweet, you felt like you were made of fine china. You could feel his tongue lick off the wetness that had dripping down your legs earlier.

Without paying much attention, you found yourself running a hand through his hair tenderly. He groaned loudly, trying to keep in his moans. You could hear the sound of his cock going back and forth into his hand as he fucked his fist at an increasing speed. The contrast between the eagerness from earlier and your sudden tenderness gave you whiplash and you felt dizzy all of the sudden, but you couldn’t on the opportunity to keep watching him pleasure himself.

“You like that huh ? You like watching me fuck my hand in front of you ? Making me go crazy and now you’re all sweet and gentle.” He groaned, his voice sounding strained.

You were quickly brought back to the initial state of things when his lips were replaced by his teeth and you felt a new kind of pain, the pleasurable kind. The sharp pain you felt when he took bit your inner thigh only made your insides wetter and your mind fuzzier. You were breathing loudly, letting the feeling pass while he stood up. His warm hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer to his exposed cock.

“Open up. And keep your eyes on me. I want you to show me exactly what you feel with your eyes, okay Sunshine ? You’re going to show me how good you feel gagging on my cock.” He ordered with a playful grin.

You obeyed mindlessly, opening your mouth and letting his cock slide in, rubbing your tongue slowly and letting you taste him. You moved to get on your knees on the bed and help onto his waist, your eyes never looking away from his. He caressed your nape as a silent praise, you were truly ready to let him do whatever he chose to do.

You had slept with men before, but none could rival with Mitch and his size. The feeling of being so full, you might explode, you now knew it. His bulbous tip pushed into the back of your throat, making you tear up at the slight lose of air. You tried to adjust but no matter what, he would be too big to fit. Probably seeing the dilemma in your eyes, he smiled tenderly and caressed your cheek.

“It’s okay Sunshine, don’t force yourself too much. Take your time and do what you want with me. I just want to see how you react to it, okay ?” His smile made your heart swoon, this man would kill you.

Starting off slow, you quickly lost yourself in the pleasure you felt from having him in your mouth. You dug your nails in his flesh, pushing him further down your throat as your sucked on his thick length as if no one was watching. He felt so big, you would suffocate at any wrong move, but none of that mattered when your body only wanted his cum to fill your stomach. You wanted to feel all that thick cum drip down your throat and fill you up like you’ve never been filled before. You wanted to have the memories and the remnants of his presence inside you.

You were going faster and faster, your soft lips wrapping nicely around his girth and sucking on his flesh with all you had. The sounds of suction were flooding your head as well as the sounds he was making, his groans and slight desperate whisperers making your pussy wetter than ever. You needed more, his cock wasn’t enough, you needed all of him inside you.

You tried to suck him deeper than your body allowed, feeling his invade your entire being. If you could see yourself, eyes crossed and fingers gripping on him as you grinded against your bedsheets, begging for pleasure as if you’d been deprived for years. It wasn’t necessarily wrong, you had been deprived by your incapacity to feel lust. But now you could feel and you wouldn’t let it go to waste.

Mitch watched attentively, basking in the pleasure you felt and made him feel. Those lips, he dreamt of them, but seeing you suck his dick like it was your mission on Earth did something vile to his brain. He gripped on your nape and started meeting your movements, pushing himself into your mouth in sync with you. You were quick to respond with loud moans, all of them echoing around his cock.

You giving him your all and even more than what he had asked for. He could see you enjoying yourself and begging for more. Quickly, the gurgling sounds of your drool filled your mouth and dripped to the side, all over your chin. This was the vision. He couldn’t control himself anymore, letting himself truly fuck your mouth full of him.

Soon, you weren’t moving anymore, the man in front of you doing all the work as he fucked your throat into oblivion and made sure to use you as much as he could. The sounds of his sack hitting your face filled the room and resonated around with your muffled moans and his own groans of pleasure.

“Fuck, feel that Sweetheart ? Feel his deep I am ? Bet you can barely breath… Fuck, that’s it, that’s good baby, that’s good… You’re taking my cock so good… I gotta cum Sweets… I needa cum in that pretty throat… You’ll let me huh ? You’ll let me fill your belly up with me ? Might cover your face too… Yeah, I’ll cover you pretty face…” He sounded close to cumming and you had never been so eager before to being covered in cum, but this wasn’t anyone. This was Mitch, and you’d only take it from him.

Your body felt like jello when he pulled your face closer to his lower stomach, your nose grazing his pelvis. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you felt his spend fill up your insides. He pulled out to cover your face, like promised and watched the white substance drip all over your skin. He stayed still, grabbing the base of his cock on one hand, and his balls in the other, rubbing his tip over your lips and smeared his cum on your skin.

When he was done, he admired you, looking as pretty as ever on your knees, nipples as hard as diamonds as they poked through the fabric of your top, legs shaking softly and your eyes looking dazed and confused. You looked up to him and swallowed every drop of cum in your mouth, licking as much as you could off of your face. He grinned, grabbing your jaw and cleaning his cum off of your face with his thumb before stuffing it in your mouth. You eagerly licked it off and swallowed proudly. He leaned down to kiss your lips tenderly, feeling a sudden surge of romanticism running through his body. You responded by grabbing his shoulders softly and kissed him back, a soft sob coming out of you.

The kiss was as tender as it looked, delicate, as if he was trying not to hurt you of spook you after the multiple previous events. He pulled away, smiling honestly when you moaned in displeasure, holding onto him tighter and pursing yor lips for one more kiss. You wanted more kisses, you needed more.

“Please Mitch… Just one more…” You begged, and fuck, he knew he was absolutely gone for you but not that badly. He was ready to fold as soon as his name came out of your mouth, ready to do whatever you desired.

“I’ll kiss you as much as you want Sunshine, I promise. There’s nothing more that I want. But first I wanna put my mouth over that sweet cunt of yours. It’s been calling my name for days now and I really need to taste you. You’ll let me ?” You nodded and he smiled, dropping to his knees again. “Then, undress for me Sweetheart. And take your time, I want to see it all. I need to carve it in my memory for the future.”

You obeyed like the good girl you had shown yourself to be earlier. You started with your top, throwing it on the floor and letting him admire your soft tits bounce at your movements. He wanted to have them in his mouth too now. You proceeded with your shorts, letting him see how truly soaked they were before you tossed them to the side. You bent sat on the bed and parted your legs open for him to truly take you in.

He licked his lips, rubbing his fingers over your folds and pressing your clit with his thumb. The little yelp that followed fell straight down his girth, standing straight and ready for the next parts. You covered your mouth and he glared at you, prompting you to obediently take your hands off.

“Don’t ever try and cover your sounds. I want to hear all you have to say, always. Do you hear me ?”

“Y-Yes… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re still new to this. Don’t apologize for doing something without thinking or instinctively.”

The softness in his voice was still making your insides melt, but so were his words. He understood how you worked and responded accordingly. This was a first for you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Tell me when it gets too much, okay ?” He ordered.

You nodded, waiting eagerly for him to do what he had in mind.

Without wasting anymore second, he pushed two fingers between your folds, making you sob in pleasure. You looked down on him and crossed his gaze while he stayed still, he was waiting for you. You took a deep breath before nodding, ready for him to proceed. You had the time to prepare yourself for more and you did good doing so, his thumb pressing on your clit and making your entire body jerk in surprise. Who would’ve expected you to be so sensitive ?

You covered you mouth as a reflex, surprised by the obscene sounds coming out of your own mouth. You’d been quick to forget Mitch’s previous orders clearly, the man punishing you instantly by pulling his fingers out and spanking your pussy until it was swollen and leaking out of control, not that you had any in the first place. You could only cry out a little more at each slap, begging for him to stop but pushing yourself towards his fingers everytime he thought of stepping away.

“Sweetheart, I won’t be telling you again. Your hands, off of your pretty face. Or do you want me to tie you up ?” He watched you genuinely debate the proposition in your head and smiled tenderly. He got up and kneeled on the bed to lean towards your face before kissing your cheek. “I’ll remember that for next time, don’t burn your neurons trying to answer.”

You nodded slowly, feeling your heart thumping loudly at the thought of doing it again with him. You hadn’t even gone all the way yet that you were already excited for the next time.

You watched him get back on his knees and smile at you tenderly, as if that would soften the effects of what he was about to do to you. You wanted to respond to his smile with your own but quickly forgot the idea when his fingers slid back in you, this time to part you open. In an instant, you were twisting and shaking in pleasure, feeling his flat tongue lick a long strip along your dripping folds. He was looking at you, you could feel his eyes on you, but it didn’t matter, not when you felt like you’d pass out from this alone.

Your hand dove into his black curls, pulling on them at each new lick from him. You could feel his organ invade your insides and suck on your slick covered flesh, sucking in your juices loudly. Your moans and cries of pleasure echoed around the room, competing against the sounds he was making while buried between your beautiful legs. The soft burn of his facial hair made you entire body shake, the feeling the beard leaving marks along your sensitive core and inner thigh.

If you could see yourself right now, you’d understand why his actions became frantic and practically desperate. The view of your body, arched to perfection to give him a view of your tits while he devoured you was ruining any kind of control he found pride in having. His cock was as hard as stone, leaking heavy drops of cum and begging to empty itself inside you. He’d never been this weak before, this sensitive to anyone. You were truly going to be it for him and his entire body was embracing the idea of submitting itself to you.

Pulling a finger out of you, Mitch licked the slick off of it and rubbed it around your clit, smiling against your core when you wrapped your legs around his neck and tightened your hold on him. He could choke to death in that instant and would be perfectly fine with it, ready to die if it was by your hands, or by your thighs if we were being accurate.

He let you grip onto his scalp and hold him still, pushing his tongue inside you while you fucked yourself on his face shamelessly. He could feel your insides wrap around him and drip sweetness all in his mouth. He had never felt that much while going down on a woman, but here you were, pushing him to his limits, making him moan praises and pleas for you to keep using him.

“M-Mitch ! Fuck, Mitch, God… I-I…” You tried to express what he already knew, feeling you pull away from him. Absolutely not, Mitch wasn’t having it. Not when you were right there, ready to pop. There was no way he was going to let you waste another opportunity for him to taste and smell you keep your scent etched into his growing beard.

He wrapped his large hands around your thighs and held you tight and as close as humanly possible to his face, letting you right your high on him. It took everything in him to not cum on the spot , God, you were killing him.

For the first time ever, you felt the pleasure of cumming with a man’s tongue pushed deep inside you. You felt like your organs were exploding in thousands of little fireworks, burning everything in their way slowly while you could only quiver and cry out for more. You could feel Mitch suck in your cum and feast on your sensitive core while you tried your best to survive what had just happened. Your legs felt like jello, deprived of strength and hanging loosely around the man’s shoulders in defeat.

In a sudden boost of submissiveness, you let out a little sound of pleasure, and ran your hand along your thighs and stomach before reaching your breasts that you squeezed vigorously. You knew he was watching, God, his gaze and attention was the only thing you wanted at the moment. You wanted him to watch you pleasure yourself to the memories of him and his tongue inside your pussy, already giving up freedom to give yourself to him. How addictive was sexual pleasure when you could actually fell it, right ?

While you played with your tits, pressing and pinching your sensitive nipples, his hands gripped on your but, tightening his hold around you possessively. A part of him had just started to wonder where you had learned such things. To him, you were still the girl he met through his annoying sister. Young and beautiful, taking shit from no one, and considered difficult by too many people to fond a boyfriend who would actually be worthy of her feelings and emotions.

She must’ve learned these things somewhere, with someone. Multiple someones even. And that thought made his blood boil and his ego fly up at the speed of a rocket. His long cock couldn’t stop vibrating at the thought of marking you inside out, making your pretty pussy as his and marking himself as yours.

To busy in his thoughts, scheming his little plan, he hadn’t noticed your eyes on him, and what you said next gave him what felt like a heart attack.

With your legs parted wide and your eyes barely opened, either out of exhaustion or lust (or both), you have him another look at your pussy, taking a life of its own and opening up under his insistant gaze.

“Mister Firefighter... Are you going to fuck me now ? I want to feel your cum drip inside my pussy… She wants a taste of you too…”

Mitch Rapp wasn’t a believer. Fairytails and hold folklore and mystical creatures, he didn’t care about them. But in that moment, you gave him the proof that sirens existed and that he was about to lose his life to one.

The next seconds turned into a blur, either because of how fast the events went or because you had managed to unlock pure desperation out of Mitch. He was quick in him movements, jumping on the bed and placing himself between your legs. He was already holding your wrists, pinned them to the mattress and kissed you as if his life depended on it. His tongue felt warm in your mouth, exploring all the surfaces in you and swallowing your soft moans at the same time.

Tasting your plump lips again, but more thoroughly this time, his body moved too. You could feel him rub the thick tip of his cock along your folds, smearing the drops of cum leaking out of him all over your gaping cunt.

His mouth descended towards your neck, biting pieces of flesh and sucking on the on his way down. His real target were your tits, soft sweet, ready to be devoured too. Mitch was slowly getting closer to a beast than a man with you under him. He’d never felt this kind of hunger before, desperate to taste all of you. He looked into your eyes, thinking about it for a second before dropping his face in the crook of your neck in a chuckle. He kissed on your skin tender, his fingers playing with your nipples as well.

You watched him kiss the valley of your breast and leave bite marks around your flesh. Your body was covered in them now. Just a little more and you might’ve actually been eaten alive. He grinded against you, both centers of your body heating up on the other and ready to truly feel it. His lips quickly found the center of your chest and sucked on them, his eyes entirely on your body while yours were on him.

Your hand found his hair again, caressing it tenderly while he enjoyed himself. It was supposed to be about studying your feelings and emotions but looked like Mitch was lost in his own. You pulled him away from your breasts, still breathing out little moans when his fingers went back to doing the work.

“Please Mitch… Don’t want to cum without you inside me… Please…” You pleaded softly, trying to form a coherent sentence while you could feel his throbbing cock begging for the same.

He caressed your face and smiled, sliding his hand around your neck and squeezing in a possessive grip.

“See what you do to me Sweetheart ? This was supposed to be about you but fuck… Fuck, I need to taste all of you… I have too many ideas for you, too much shit I want to do…” You exhaled, looking down on his own length and guiding the tip to play with your swollen folds. He kept teasing for a few seconds, enjoying the sounds you made when desperate, before stopping and leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry Sunshine. You’ll get fucked properly in a second, I’m just making a list of what we’re trying out next.”

Your nod was instantly replaced by a gasp and your entire body shaking in a second. You looked down, seeing his fat cock push inside your dripping hole and felt yourself melt from the inside out. His width kept expanding, pushing your walls further apart. Despite being still, raised straight and holding your legs apart, you could feel his girth mold your pussy around him. He was truly ruining you flr everyone else.

When your breathing slowed down, he pulled out slowly, chuckling when you cried out in displeasure. His hand found your cheek to caress it tenderly before stuffing his tongue between your lips out of nowhere.

He repeated the motion, pulling out of you and sliding back in slowly before picking up a rhythm, the kind that left you speechless. As he started fucking into you, the sounds of his thighs slapping against yours started resonating louder and louder.

“M-Mitch ! Feels so… So good ! P-Please ! Please more ! More !” You moaned, your hands gripping on the sheets as if you were scared of falling down without them.

His own fingers dug into your soft flesh, his cock pounding harder into you each time you’d let him hear how good he made you feel. The sound of his name coming out of your mouth in the most obscene of symphony wasn’t just a boost to his ego, it all went straight to his heart and into his dick. There was something deadly about the vision of you, laying under him, taking his abuse of your pussy to perfection.

He leaned back, watching the way your pussy would swallow him whole, taking every inch of him and begging for more. None of his dreams could even compete with having you really here. He couldn’t even count the amount of time he’d dreamt of fucking you, no, making love to you. It could possibly be expected from a teenager, hell he even dreamt that his hands were yours when he needed relief. But a grown man having wet dreams about his sister’s best friend on her knees for him, that had to be weird.

“Good, Sunshine, good girl… Taking me to perfection… Greedy little pussy, you just wanted me to fuck you silly huh Sweetheart ? Wanted to feel my cock buried all the way inside your tiny body huh ? You needed me to make you feel better than good, answer me.” He groaned into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist and moving your body at however he pleased.

“Y-Yes ! Yes, God, yes ! Yes, yes ! M-Make… Make me feel ! Please !” You sobbed, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly.

Better than a simple display of strength, Mister Firefighter was treating your body like it was made of plastic, light and ready to be filled to the brim. Was he crazy for wanting to see his cum drip down your thighs ? Maybe, maybe not. All he knew is that he’d give you exactly what you were asking for.

Moving your body effortlessly, he spun you around, laying you flat on your chest and raising your hips while he grabbed handfuls of your ass to guide you under him. He looked down on you, his hand caressing your exposed back and your nape. With your face buried in the pillows, back arched and presenting yourself to him, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

He leaned over you, moving his hand from your hips to your swaying breast that he grabbed and played with, squeezing vigorously. Raised your head, turning it slightly and facing him. His nose rubbed your cheek, inhaling your scent just like he was used to.

His breathing was loud and so were his soft moans of pleasure. He kissed you, as passionately as before, all the sounds coming from your body being swallowed by the other. You pulled away to breath in, your head getting cloudier by the second.

“Mitch, Mitch, Mitch, fuck ! Fuck, I-… I…”

He heard and understood you, being in a similar situation himself. His kisses on your neck started again, his warm palm founding your stomach and pressing into it. There it was, the feeling of his tip invading your entire being. He fucked into you harder, the sounds of his sack slapping against your cunt and probably making it even more sensitive. He was ruthless, fucking you like he had years of repressed desires to make up for.

He stood straight, still pounding the life out of your dripping pussy, and grabbed your ass again, parting it wide and viewing the way his cock would come in and out. If he could, he’d take pictures or even paint them himself from memory. There was no way he’d forget that vision now.

“I’m cumming too Sunshine… I’ll fill you up real nice, I promise…” He swore, throwing his head back and pushing himself just a little more, his release getting closer and closer.

“Yes, yes, yes ! Please, please give me ! Give me your cum Mitch, please ! Oh, God ! F-Feels so good ! Oh fuck ! Fuck, fuck, fuck !”

You were losing your mind, his balls slapping your sensitive skin and even reaching your clit. You were desperate for more, starved for it, so much so that you had even started pushing yourself towards him, meeting his thrusts and parting your legs even wider.

“My greedy little cum slut, fuck, I can’t… Can’t hold it Sweetheart…” He grunted loudly, making your pussy vibrate in submission around him.

Then, it came. The flood. For the first time, in your life, and the second (or third, your brain was too fuzzy to keep up) time tonight, you came around him while he was cumming into you. Hard and messy, you both coated the other of your arousal. It felt hot and was truly sipping through each corner of your insides. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you collapsed into the pillows and took in every drop he let out inside you.

His own girth was getting soaked by your sweet juices. He watched his cum spill out of you and drip down your inner thighs, just like he had dreamt. He watched you, mesmerized by your submissiveness, his member jerking back to life when you tightened around him. He kept going back and forth into your canal, making sure that his cum wouldn’t go to waste.

You turned your face towards him, reaching for his lower stomach weakly. He groaned, smiling tenderly when you scraped his chest attempting to get him to stay still and with you. Your legs were still shaking and

“You need more already Sunshine ? Barely able to think straight and you already want more huh ?” He mocked playfully. You hid your face in the pillows and it was his turn to swoon internally. He leaned over your back, teasing you by slowly rolling his hips. “Don’t worry Sunshine. Mister Firefighter is going to give you as muck cock as you want.”

Mitch truly was a man of his words, and he was also a cuddler. After rounds after rounds, you had finally decided to stop, or at least, kind if stop.

Still buried deep inside you, he caressed your sides while you laid still and silent on top of his chest. After you had shown him you could ride him like a mechanic bull, he couldn’t let you escape that easily. His fingers felt good on you, soothing all of the pain you could feel. He did admit going a little too hard on you, but your face when overstimulated just… Irresistible.

You purred into the crook of his neck, kissing his collarbones and biting on them when you had the strength. You were content, you knew it, that was what joy felt like and you knew it thanks to the man kissing the crown of your head tenderly.

“I hope you’re aware that I’m not tolerating anymore running away Sweets. I’ll chase you all over the world if I have too. Be warned.”

You chuckled, raising yourself slightly to face him. You smiled, taking hold of his face and kissing his nose.

“You told me you loved me thirty minutes ago and you’re already okay with following me around the world ?”

“Obviously. I loved you since high school if you don’t remember. I was just waiting for you to stop running away here.”

“And all it took was for my workplace to catch on fire. Nice.” You mumbled against his chest.

You both laid there, in silence. Basking in the comfortable loving bubble you had both built around each other. Yeah, you were great.

“By the way, be careful when calling me Mister Firefighter. I might do something crazy like fuck you in uniform.”

#•°jin's 2k sleepover°•#•°birdie nonnie°•#mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp x female reader #mitch rapp x you #mitch rapp x y/n #mitch rapp smut #mitch rapp #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien #female reader #woc reader #black reader

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madschiavelique · 4 months

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𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐔

This au was first talked about on 04/11/2023 with my amazing bestie @sunflowersandsapphires and I thought it could be cute to share these thoughts !! (I'm gonna post several AUs ideas we had and discussed on throughout the months because DAMN the thoughts are delicious)

please note that english is not my first language and that there might be some little grammar mistakes here and there !

word count : 2,2k

We’re all familiar from up close or far of the myth of Medusa, also known as one of the gorgons. People often tend to forget that there were 3 gorgons on this myth : Medusa (of course), but also her sisters Euryale and Stheno.

To give you a bit of a refresh on the myth of Medusa – just from memories okay, the versions of each myth vary in mythology and this is the one i remember best – she was in love with Poseidon and the god decided at one point to bring her to one of Athena’s temples so that they could make love there, her two sisters helping her getting in.

The two lovers were taken during the act by Athena herself who cursed the 3 women by making them gorgons, creatures with snake hair (and body too I believe) that could turn to stone anyone that made the mistake of looking at them in the eyes.

So my mind went like “huh, wait a minute you’d have to be able to see to actually turn to stone right ? So what would happen if-” and it all clicked.

I think somehow Athena’s magic on the gorgons would make them prone to often get reached by men that are ill-intended. So who knows, what if reader is one of the gorgon sisters, hum ?

What if men in the past have tried to come and attack you, what if men in the past successfully killed your two sisters and that you’re now all alone ? What if you lost faith in the possibility of anyone being nice to you, or of anyone not considering you as the monster that you are ?

You lived bitterly, secluded in an area people never walked by in fear of getting attacked by you. You're just so used to people coming to you with the intention of killing you that you expect everything to be a threat. You know better than to be afraid, your powers serve you well enough that you don't have to live in fear.

Until one day, Matt gets lost. He’s never passed through that area before, and the surroundings are so different to his sensitivity. There’s a certain presence, an aura that makes his senses blurry as he walks hesitantly.

Of course, you notice his presence. You’re used to living underground, and the vibrations his footsteps and his stick send through the earth are enough for you to come to the surface. You get out, ready to fight, ready to stare, ready to kill.

He hears you, turning around and simply asking “Hello ?”

But ironically, you’re the one to freeze this time : he is looking in the void, and the usual signs of petrification are not lining up on his body. You frown, and the gut wrenching feeling of fear takes you as much as the weight lifting sensation of relief.

Maybe your powers aren’t working anymore, maybe this is your last moments of torment, maybe you will join your sisters in Hell, maybe you’ll die and get humiliated once more.

But maybe you’re finally free from your curse, maybe only the snakes remain on your head but you can’t turn anyone to statues anymore : maybe you can finally get out of this situation where you’re all alone.

You just want to make sure though, so you step forward a bit, not entirely in case he tries to attack you by surprise, and ask “Why have you come here ?”

He tilts his head towards the sound of your voice, a curious gleam passing his eyes as his eyes won’t settle on you.

“I’m lost.” he answers.

Now you scoff, thinking it’s another trick to make you fall. You’ve had wise men trying to kill you in the past, using their wits to trap you in enigmas or other stupidities that would bring your downfall.

“I don’t fall for tricks and traps,” you say as you step closer to him.

He doesn’t seem to step back, nor does he seem afraid, not in the slightest. You tilt your head a bit until your eyes bore into his, making sure your gaze is aligned with his own.

He frowns, tilting his own head to the side, “Tricks and traps ?”

Your eyes go wide and your shoulders fall as the realisation hits you : he’s blind.

The fear dissipates, but gives its place to disappointment. Of course your curse is not lifted, of course the possibility of you going back to a semi-normal life is purely impossible. You step back, looking at him as if discovering him for a second time.

“You’re not here to kill me ?” you question as you cross your arms over your chest.

He’s the one to scoff now, placing both of his hands on his stick.

“Kill you ? Why would I do such a thing ?”

There’s genuine confusion in his tone, but you’re not ready to let your guard down about all of this.

“Don’t play ignorant, you know why.”

“I assure you I don’t.” he answers.

Now you’re both confused.

You are mostly because it’s the first time your powers don’t act on someone, as well as the first time someone isn’t here to kill you nor is aware of your existence.

As for him, he’d just arrived here because he had lost his way, and now here he was in front of a woman that was claiming he was here to kill her. So who could she be that people came so often here with that purpose only ?

There was something different about you, your smell indicated a strong presence of wet stone, but of something much different. Something that smelled like warm sand, like diluted metal, like scales of snakes. He wondered if perhaps you had one on you, or if the area had plenty of them he had to beware of.

You couldn’t tell if he knew of the legends, for who knows : maybe your sister’s tale had gone forgotten. If he was aware of your story however, he looked like someone pretty calm about it, which made the word ‘unusual’ turn into a euphemism for your situation.

“You’re simply lost ?” you end up interrogating.

“I never used this passageway before,” he conceded, “I wanted to use it as a shortcut, but I’ve never gone this far away from the places I know by heart.”

You continued looking at him. He was well built, enough that his physique could be considered as one of the many heroes that had tried harming you. Yet the more you looked at him, the less the thought of him being here to cause you pain and kill you faded. He only had a bag, and his walking stick.

Your silence perplexed him.

“Why would people want to kill you ?” he asked again, pulling you back from your reverie.

The question made you feel weird, because it seemed like such an evidence to you that seeing an alternative to this interrogation seemed impossible on the spot. Why would they not want to kill you ? They had plenty of reasons anyway.

“Doesn’t matter,” you answered on the spot as this being somehow the only thing your could provide as an answer.

“I think it does,” he interjected, and your parted your lips.

In all these years of being a gorgon, never had your had much of a conversation like so. He surely didn’t care about your life, and maybe was this another ruse to lure you in and make you easier to kill.

Guessing how answering these questions wasn’t one of your fortes, he sighed.

“Could you help me find my way back, please ?”

You’re hesitant on the case of his demand. Every man before him had wronged you, had turned against you to try and bring some glory to their pathetically short lives while you remained eternal and undefeated.

What if it was another trick by Athena ? What if this was her final resort to bring glory to humans ?

And in any case, men had taken away your sisters, how could you not be angry at them and not wish to help them ?

But this one… He seemed kind, disinterested in any kind of glory in any shape or form, just a blind man lost in your woods.

Not daring to be closer to him or even touching him in case this could ease your way into death, you grabbed the foot of his stick and rose back up.

“Hold on to it,” you mumbled as you started walking towards the next path.

You turned a second to him, a grin plastered on his face. Not a vicious one, to your relief, but a grateful smile.

“Why’s a lady like you all by herself on this desertic passage ?” he questioned, walking at your pace as he tried to make sure by waving his arm in front of him that he wouldn’t be hitting anything.

You weren’t here to make friends with men, but you hadn’t talked to anyone in a while. The sight of him having so much trouble directing himself because of your gauche handling of his stick sent you a wave of pity. You dropped the wood, and he stopped, surprised.

“Already there ?” he asked in surprise.

But you came to him, taking his hand and have it circle your arm so that he could still use his stick.

“Thank you,” he softly smiled as you both started walking again, your mind trying to chase away the way his arm against yours felt. “So, why are you all alone in here ?”

“Because bad men chased me until there was no place other than there for me to live,” which wasn’t far off the mark.

“Exiled ?” he interrogated.

“Feared.” you breathed.

“How could you be feared ?” the question rang wrong to him.

“How could I not,” you almost laugh as your free hand comes to caress the neck of a snake.

“I don’t find you terrifying,” his lips came to form an inverted smile as he rose his eyebrows.

“It’s because you are safe from my unwanted danger.”

“Am I holding the hand of the most dangerous person to ever be ?” he laughed, the lack of seriousness in his tone making the situation all the more ironic for you.

“You just might,” you answered, a bit less tense than you were seconds ago.

“Well, it pleases me,” he admitted and you stiffened.

Trying to play it cool and not get nervous that this could be your last conversation ever, you asked :

“To be in danger ?”

His head turned to yours, his gaze still lost somewhere you could never be in.

“To be in good company.”

Your walk with him came to an end, and Matt had by now remembered the way to get to the path. He wished you goodbyes, and you came back to your cave thinking how much of a strange situation it had been.

He hadn’t tried to kill you on the way, but maybe had an acolyte of some sort of his placed a trap in your cave. You meticulously made your way back to your place, but nothing different was to be found.

What an odd encounter.

And thus he came a second time to you.

“I’ve lost my way again,” he had explained.

“Have you got the memory of a goldfish ?”

But nevertheless, you had accompanied him back again, and had chatted again, and waved goodbyes again.

But still, he kept getting lost, and kept coming back to you for your guidance.

You had the full conviction by now that he had the worst sense of orientation a man could have ever gotten.

And he had the full conviction that you were not a monster, so he pretended to not know his way although he now knew it by heart just to have an excuse to meet you again and talk to you.

“Seems like I really can’t remember my way anymore.”

“Matt, you always come to me with the exact same path, you know that right-”

“Really can’t remember it anymore, such a shame, looks like you’ll once again have to accompany me.

“It’s the second time you’ve come to see me today.”

Of course he tries to play it off and placing this on his atrocious sense of orientation, but there are some moments where he accidentally lets the cover slip.

“It’s near a huge rock.” you explain again.

“You mean the one shaped like a heart that is about 300 steps from here ?”

“Yes exact- wait a minute, if you know the placement so well, how come you always get lost ?”

“...”

“...?”

“Amnesia has taken me, what were we talking about ?”

“Matt you’ve gotten ‘amnesia’ three times this week. You need to speak to someone about that.

“You shouldn’t worry. Actually I feel like I have most of my sense in your presence lately, your company cures me of my own obliviousness-” he says as he trips over a rock immediately.

And you’re quite oblivious to this, but also the more you understand about this, the least do you complain about it.

Maybe loneliness started slipping away from you after all.

(I could continue on this au but I have WAY too many others in mind that I want to put out there !!! I'd love to see any of the thoughts you'd have on this au besties <33)

#mads' thoughts ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#mads' aus ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#mads rambles ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock au #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader

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highpri3stess · 3 months

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Alright, Imma say it anyways.

Tw. Racism death threats etc

First, I'd like to thank people who told me to do other stuff outside tumblr today. You are real ones and I am grateful because I would have lost my mind if I didn't do something else today. To people who texted and checked up on me. You are real ones. I was getting to a level where my mental state was spiraling and yall talked sense into me. I'm gonna let this go, right after this.

Now, to the controversal statement.

This is the last thing I'll say before I do other stuff on here.

If you expect me to be quiet after seeing "Monica deserves fifty lashes, she's a slave n-word bitch that needs to be decapitated and her boobs cut off" you are racist. No, no, no don't gasp, don't gasp you know it's the truth.

If I unfollowed you after that issue and you blocked me, you prove to me, you are an enabler of racism. No, no, no, don't gasp either, you know it's the truth.

If you were a black creator who followed me and then got mad at me and unfollowed me because if that issue, you are also an enabler of racism. No no no don't gasp, don't gasp hold your breath I'm not done talking.

You know why I said this thing?

Three of the people in these categories were actually defending that guy caught with shota shit. Yes. You people were so ready to defend that guy, one of you even made a fucking alt account to defend that piece of shite, as if his life was in danger. I saw some people I'm exmoots with liking posts defending him while saying "oh his actions are gross". Who are you trying to deceive?

And when I started getting racist anons, some of yall had the nerve to tell me I am a drama blog and yall don't want to hang out with me no more. I was literally getting threats and slurs and that was all some of you said on anon. And you have the guts to still reblog shit on my account? Is it because I didn't expose you? Because I know it was you. Yes you. One of you even caused the entire issue by sending the post to that person. I know you. You caused this. Fuck you.

And yes I called some of you inhumane. You all were ready to jump on that guys dick but to defend someone who was recieving SLURS all of a sudden "I'm not a discourse blog". And when I said it, some of yall appeared in my dms saying I was being too mean. No. That was me being TOO nice, I could have called them something far worse and they would have deserved anything I called them.

And hell, some of you that are black jumped in my dms. I know you would not have the balls to open your damn mouth if it was not your fellow black authors, since you decided you wanted to kiss ass. And I know you don't have the balls because you did not go to the perpertrator and disrespect them like that.

All of you involved plus that weak ass fool going on people's accounts saying those slurs are spineless. Spineless weaklings. Since all of you in these groups of people have decided to be afraid of some disgraced mf who cannot do shit off anon, you all are the weakest links. And you deserved to be dragged by the root of your hair because you rather defend a pedo than stand against racism.

And if this offends you and your Kabal, or your queen mother, since you people are shaking in your boots when you see her, you have yourself to blame. Look in the mirror and reflect. Maybe grow a pair or two.

Anytime I feel bad, I remember you mfs and I feel better about myself. "I may be having a hard time, but at least I'm not spineless."

I am glad I broke mutuals with some of you weird bitches and I am glad my anons are off. Trust, if you ever get harrassed, you do not have my sympathy. In fact, I will tell you word for word, exactly what you told me and I will do it off anon- "Why are you being a drama blog?" "Just stop being angry and touch grass"

If the shoe fits. If you like, send this on your discord server and groups. Fuck y'all.

- love, Monica

#monica.speaks ♡#tw. discourse #tw.racism #i said what i said #go and hit your head on the wall #fandom

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justaninchident-f1xreader · 3 months

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max verstappen x reader part9

(incase you missed part8- https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740597178369802240/max-verstappen-x-reader-part7?source=share)

themes-

ferrari female driver jealousy enemies to lovers possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)

warnings- mentions of past abusive relationships

chapter 9- i'll be your anchor in the storm

It has been a few days since the saucy and spicy social media exchanges. All the drivers decided to go for a casual night out. The Monaco night thrummed with the usual post-race buzz, a symphony of tinkling glasses and boisterous laughter. Yet, amidst the revelry, Y/N's silence resonated like a discordant note. Her fiery eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were veiled by a layer of worry, her smile strained at the edges. She fidgeted with her phone, her gaze darting around the room like a cornered animal.

Max, ever the observant predator, caught the tension radiating from her. He approached her, a wary concern creasing his brow. "What's with the ghost act, L/N?" he asked, his voice low and gruff, devoid of its usual playful bite.

Y/N flinched, startled, as if his presence had snapped her out of a trance. "Nothing," she mumbled, shoving her phone into her purse, but the tremor in her hands betrayed her words.

Max wasn't convinced. He knew her well enough to recognize the telltale signs – the nervous chewing of her lip, the way her fingers danced anxiously on the clasp of her purse. He pulled out a chair next to her, his gaze unyielding. "Spill it," he commanded, his voice laced with gentle authority.

Y/N hesitated, her silence stretching like a taut chord. Then, with a deep breath, she began to speak, her voice cracking with repressed emotion. "He's back," she whispered, her eyes darting towards the doorway, as if fearing a phantom presence.

Max felt a cold knot tighten in his gut. "Who?" he asked, his voice hardening.

"My ex," Y/N whispered, her gaze finally meeting his. "He…" she choked on a sob, the memory of past trauma raw in her eyes. "He got out."

Max's jaw clenched. The details of Y/N's past were whispers in the paddock, rumors of a violent relationship, scars hidden beneath her fiery spirit. He had never dared to pry, respecting her private battleground. But seeing her fear unfold before him, raw and visceral, ignited a protective fire within him.

He pulled her chair closer, offering a silent sanctuary. Y/N leaned into him, seeking solace in his quiet strength. In a halting voice, she recounted the ordeal – the chilling phone call, the constant dread, the fear that had crawled back into her life like a venomous snake.

"He.. he used to hit me, use me and leave me like i was a worthless doll. He criticized every feature that i had and made me feel bad for existing. When I started to do better in karting and racing, he hated me for it," Y/N took a breath and continued, "One night, when my friend Percy gave me a new book, he got jealous and he tried to...he tried to force himself onto me and I lost it. I smashed his head with the nearby lamp and called 911. He went to jail but he's getting out now. And I know he's out to get me"

Max listened, his usual stoicism cracking as he witnessed her vulnerability. He clenched his fists, a storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. The man who had hurt her, who had dared to dim her fire, would feel the full force of his fury.

When Y/N finished, her voice a trembling thread, she buried her face in her hands, tears soaking through her fingers. Max hesitated, then reached out, his calloused thumb gently wiping away a stray tear. He didn't offer platitudes or false promises. He simply held her gaze, his eyes pools of quiet strength, an unspoken vow etched within them.

"He won't touch you again," Max said, his voice deep and unwavering. "I won't let him."

The words were simple, yet they held the weight of a promise, a declaration of his unexpected but fierce protectiveness. Y/N's tear-filled eyes searched his face, finding validation, comfort, and something more – a spark of something she hadn't dared to acknowledge in the heat of their rivalry.

The night club dimmed around them, the music fading into a distant hum. The other drivers, sensing the charged atmosphere, retreated, leaving them alone in a bubble of shared vulnerability. In that intimate silence, a connection crackled between them, more potent than any post-race adrenaline rush.

Y/N reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and traced the outline of Max's jaw, the callouses beneath her fingertips a tangible proof of his strength. His gaze met hers, unflinching, reflecting the storm brewing within him and the tenderness reserved for her alone.

The lines had blurred. Rival, teammate, protector – Max Verstappen was now something more, a shield against the shadows of her past. And as their eyes locked, the unspoken tension between them, fueled by jealousy, competition, and now, a dawning protectiveness, threatened to ignite into something far more combustible than the champagne bubbling in their abandoned flutes.

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The spark crackling between Max and Y/N ignited into a searing flame as their lips drew closer. The tension in the air, thick with unspoken emotions, finally found its release in their shared breath, a promise whispered on the cusp of a kiss.

But just as their lips met, a chilling voice shattered the fragile moment. "Y/N!"

A figure emerged from the shadows, his face contorted with fury. It was Ethan, Y/N's ex, the embodiment of her past trauma, a nightmare made flesh. He held a metal rod in his hand, its glint reflecting the cold anger in his eyes.

Max's hand shot out, clamping onto Y/N's arm, pulling her back like a shield. Her eyes, wide with fear, met his, a silent plea for protection flashing within them. His own gaze, now glacial, locked onto Ethan's, a silent challenge issued across the dimly lit room.

The tension crackled, thicker than the smoke curling from abandoned cigars. Ethan, fueled by a twisted possessiveness, took a menacing step forward, the rod held aloft like a twisted trophy. "You think you can steal her from me, Verstappen?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom.

Max, ever the strategist, remained calm, his voice a low growl. "She's made her choice, Ethan. And it's not you."

The air crackled with the promise of violence. The other drivers, sensing the imminent storm, edged closer, forming a silent barrier between the two men. Lando placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder, his own anger simmering beneath his calm facade.

Y/N, however, refused to be a damsel in distress. She straightened her spine, her voice ringing with defiance. "I'm not yours to steal, Ethan. I'm my own person, and I choose who I want to be with."

Her words hung in the air, a declaration of independence that pierced through the suffocating atmosphere. Ethan, his facade of control crumbling, lunged forward, the rod aimed at Y/N.

But Max, faster than a lightning strike, reacted with lightning speed. He shoved Y/N behind him, taking the brunt of the blow on his arm. A sharp cry of pain escaped him, but his eyes remained fixed on Ethan, a predator protecting his prey.

The room erupted in chaos. Lando tackled Ethan, wrestling the rod from his grasp. The other drivers, spurred by a shared sense of protectiveness, formed a human wall around Y/N, shielding her from further harm.

Max, his arm throbbing with pain, held his ground, his gaze never leaving Ethan. The storm within him, fueled by jealousy, protectiveness, and now, a surge of adrenaline, threatened to break free.

But before he could unleash his fury, the security guards arrived, alerted by the commotion. They swarmed Ethan, disarming him and dragging him away, his screams of rage echoing through the nightclub.

Y/N, still shaken but unharmed, rushed to Max, her eyes filled with concern. She cradled his injured arm, her touch a balm on his pain. "Max," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He looked at her, the storm within him subsiding, replaced by a quiet tenderness. "It's okay," he rasped, his voice strained but reassuring. "He's gone. You're safe."

In that moment, amidst the chaos and the aftermath, a new understanding bloomed between them. It wasn't just about rivalry or competition anymore. It was about a bond forged in the crucible of fear, a silent promise of protection, and a connection that went beyond the surface.

The Monaco night, once a celebration of victory, had become a battleground for a different kind of victory. The race for Y/N's heart had taken a dangerous turn, and Max Verstappen, the unexpected hero, had stepped into the ring, claiming his place as her protector. But the battle was far from over. The shadows of Ethan's threat still loomed, and the race for Y/N's heart had just become a race against time, a gamble fueled by fire and the promise of a love forged in the face of danger.

writer's note- guys this was a bit different, i did want to add more emotional aspects to the story and i really worked hard writing this one. tell me what you think. WE LOVE LANDO IN THIS ONE.

#formula 1 #max verstappen imagine #red bull racing #charles leclerc #ferrari #max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz #f1 #lando norris #max verstappen #mv1 fic #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 smut #redbull racing

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heartilywrites · 7 months

Text

♡ — Leaving tonight ; H. Callahan

cw: angst, but like, a bunch of that ; avengers: endgame strong references ; avengers: infinity war final battle reference just at the beginning ; spider!hazel; black widow!reader ; mention of death

word count: 2.8k

a/n: love me some angst, this is my post ~celebrating~ endgame happening canonically now, i just happen to remember we made spider!hazel a thing and i needed to write her in the mcu timeline. . . i made peter exist at the same time as haze because,,, why not? i think they would be best friends idk. anyways, hope you enjoy!

“ 𝓐ll alone, all we know, is haunting me. . . Making it harder to breathe. ”

⠀⠀Ever had that feeling that something is about to end very very bad? Great! That was the exact feeling everyone at the battlefield had, even the most optimistic person could be doubting about the conclusion of that fight. Yeah, you were winning against the army, but that gut wrenching feeling that it may all be in vain was there, haunting you.

You fought with everything in your system, but there wasn't really much to do as a Widow besides helping to stop the alien army and hope for the more powerful avengers to stop everything from the source: Thanos. . . And then you saw wakandians disappear in dust, your heart dropped to the ground when you realized what that meant and your feet were quick to run looking for Natasha.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Please, please, please.” you begged while your eyes began to accumulate tears.

You heard your name being shouted and were fast to recognize Natasha's silhouette running to you too. An almost crushing hug was what you received, after making sure neither of you were about to disappear you look to the scene next to you. 'Oh god' the captain's voice whispered in disbelief. You lost.

And that was just the beginning, once you arrived back from Wakanda you were fast to look for your friends only to find that Brittany was the only from your group still around, both of you cried as soon as you saw each other and hugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Where's Hazel?” her voice asked, “I know she ran out the campus with you, didn't she?” your eyes widened.

Hazel. She and this other spider–dude went to fucking space as a stowaways when you clearly heard on the earpiece Tony's voice telling them to stay on New York, obviously neither of them listened even after your own scold while helping on the ground as much as you could.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'll be back, darling, I promise!” her voice in a robotic sound told you before losing signal with her.

You didn't know if she was alive anymore, but after the first couple weeks, you were beginning to accept the idea that she did dust away along with the other kid, Tony and the wizard dude. And you started to grief.

At least you were until one night in the compound an earthquake caught everyone's attention on a possible attack, curious your feet took you out of the building and in your visual field a spaceship appeared with a glowing woman directing it to the ground.

You were far behind from everyone, squinting your eyes to see a bit better your jaw almost fell to the floor to the sight of Tony coming down the stairs with a blue woman and. . . Wait.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hazel!” an exclamation came from you now running to help the girl, once again crying, but those were tears of relief. She hugged you tight as much as she could. “I thought I lost you.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I thought I lost you.” she repeated back on a sob, once you pushed away you saw how bad she looked. “Oh my god, Steve shaved?”

At that question, you turned your face to the captain who was talking with Tony and frowned. “I guess. . .” once again, your eyes were back at her and a sniff was heard from both of you. “Fucking idiot, I'm confiscating your web–shooters everytime we see a spaceship.”

After laughing at your comment, she gave you a weak kiss, leaning on you after a bit and you guided her steps to the building.

They did a little meeting to get the ones on space to date, your teeth were biting your bottom lip trying not to cry at the pictures of those you called your friends that weren't around anymore.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We lost Peter.” Hazel whispered while watching the argument the two grown men had. She, just as Tony, were connected to an IV and you were on her other side holding her hand. “We lost everyone, we–.”

You calmly shushed her, your thumb was leaving caresses on her hand. “We did what we could.” you smiled weakly. “And we're going to do everything to get them back.”

And you were one to keep a promise.

The next thing the group did was trying to find Thanos, but you didn't had the right mind to go with them. You wanted to stay with Hazel and take care of her, so that's what you did; stay. You hugged Natasha while wishing them good luck, telling them to 'get that bitch's ass' as she laughed and assure you they were going to bring everyone back. . .

But then, 5 years went by.

As soon as they got back, everyone took their own way. Defeated, neither of you needed to ask what had happened, because their faces said it all.

Once Hazel got better, both of you decided to move on, try to have a normal life. Kept studying at collage with Brittany, the three of you grew closer together. Deep down you knew things really won't be back as they were, missing Josie, Isabel and PJ became something constant like breathing; the first two years you usually went to the compound to train with Nat, but after that you started to drift away from the avengers to continue with your life, she didn't stopped you at that.

Sure, you did missions once in a while, but it wasn't as much as you did before the events. Your relationship with Hazel got serious and one night, she proposed to you. Obviously you said yes, you wanted to be with her for the rest of your life if it was possible, she had been your rock all those years in work, such as you were hers and it finally felt as the universe was trying to let you two rest at least a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We need you two, kid.” Rogers' voice was heard after his speech and a bit of silence, you were serving the dinner, passing a plate to him and one to your now fiancé, both of them smiled. “We need as many hands as possible.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I. . . I don't know, Mr. America.” Hazel was the first one to speak, you took your seat across from her.‍ “Our graduation is near, we're planning a wedding as well.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's our second chance, girls.” he said, his eyes moved from Hazel to you.‍ “Congrats on the wedding, by the way, but this is our only chance to get everyone back.”

Your eyes darted back to Hazel as she did the same.

Maybe you'll get your friends back, maybe they'll be here for the celebration. What else could you lose? It was something easy, he said, risky, but easy enough. Travel in time to the stones, take them to use them, bring everyone back and take them back as if they never left their timelines. Piece of cake, right?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you sure you want to do this?” Hazel asked you while saving both your and her suit in a bag.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you?” You shot back, raising a brow her way. You sighed and walk to her side of the bed.‍ ‍ “Haze, we can get them back. Have Josie, Isabel and PJ on our day, don't you want that?” Her eyes looked down to the bag.‍ “Didn't you say you wanted to have them as best women?”

She laughed and nodded slowly.‍ “Fine, but we're only helping with the stones, yeah? Once that's done we come back home, we still need to choose between daisies or jasmines.”

You nodded with a funny smile and gave her a tiny kiss.

Once in the compound it was explain how everything would go down, where the stones have been seen and who had them at that time. It took no more than two days to get the information in order and everyone did teams; yours was the one going to Vormir and Morag, the soul and power stones.

A pretty good speech, a couple of words exchanged and a promise to come back was said by everyone before everyone started to travel.

Arriving to Morag was quite the experience, you've never been to space so looking around was almost inevitable.

A scream was heard from Hazel before kicking. . . Something similar to a rat, you laughed while taking away the white suit, underneath that it was your well–known black suit, your fiancé had her classic one without the mask.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are we ready?” You said looking at your teammates, they nodded.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Good to go, kiddo.” Now it was your turn to nod. A small hug was received by the older man for the both of you. “Get the stone and comeback, no messing around, okay?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yes, dad.” Hazel said jokingly, after a bit she took your hand and started to walk towards the ship.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Take care of each other!” he exclaimed, you gave him a military salute followed by an 'aye aye, captain', the doors closed.

You both looked around the ship while walking to the pilot and co–pilot seat, once buckled up, the ship itself began the trip.

Your hand was holding tight to the seat, both laughing at the speed and colors, truly an experience worth living.

When arriving to Vormir, both of you looked shocked at such landscape. Nothing like we had on earth, you thought.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Let's go, m'lady.” Hazel called for you, offering her hand, you took it with a smile. “Let's get this stone and go back home.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Easy work, we should've choose New York for a bit of a complicated level.” you said while walking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And miss the opportunity to come to space? Nuh–uh, maybe we should've changed planets with them.” she responded back. “This planet is way too dark, feels sad.”

A laugh fell from you mouth. Now infront of the big mountain in there, Hazel got the both of you up with webs, knowing it would take more time if you climbed the mountain.

Once at the top, you took your gun out for precaution and both sets of eyes inspected every corner they saw.

You heard a voice say your name and your father's name, at least you figured that was him since after the same voice pronounced Hazel and her father's name as a welcome later on, such jumpscare made you both be on guard ready to attack. Then you saw a. . . A man? with red face, floating. “Consider me a guide to you and all of those who seek the soul stone.”

You exchanged looks with Hazel before putting down the weapon, your fiancé never let down her guard. “Yeah? How do we get it then?” she asked, still a bit scared.

The entity floated in the middle of the two, you followed him to almost the edge. “What you seek lies in front of you,” he said while both heroes walked to see down. “In order to take the stone you must lose that what you love, an everlasting exchange.” you could feel how your heart dropped, turning back to see Hazel. “A soul for a soul.”

You walked a bit back to think about what was just said, sitting down on a rock in silence. “There has to be another way,” Hazel said after a couple of minutes in silence. “Or maybe he was joking.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I don't really think so,” you responded blinking a couple of times. “Think about it, Haze; Thanos came here with his daughter Gamora, got the stone and left without her, that has to mean something.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Maybe he lost her somewhere else, how do we know he isn't making shit up and the stone is somewhere else?” Hazel stood up from the rock, clearly stressed at the situation.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “He knows my father's name. . . I don’t even know it, I don’t think he'll be guessing if I knew him or not.” now you stood up and took her hands. “If we don't get that stone, billions of people will stay dead. . .”

She nodded sighing. “Whatever it takes, right?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Whatever it takes.” you responded with low voice. Cutting distance with her, your lips met in a sweet kiss; one filled with sadness too knowing what was about to come, regret at the thought of accepting the mission, but calm at the thought of saving people. Once you pulled away, a smile showed on your face. “I love you, Hazel, remember that, yeah?”

The girl blinked confused at your words. “Did we just thought of different endings?” she shook her head, taking your arms. “Honey, you have the wrong idea.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hazel, please, let me do this.” you almost cried, taking a step back. “I promised you that, didn't I? We're going to do everything to get them back and this is how. After everything I've done. . . This is my way to redeem all the pain I caused.”

She didn't answer, in your distraction she pinned you to the floor while shaking her head. “No, you'll tell the girls I love them.”

You were quick to change positions and stand up while pointing at her with your electric gun. “Tell them yourself, Haze.” your voice defended before shooting her, seeing how the shock did its work at keeping her down you started to make your way to the edge.

Hazel was fast enough to remove the shot from her and sit up, when trying to use her right web–shooter she realized you had covered it, but not the left one so she changed hands and shot you on the ankles making you fall. With a curse coming out of your mouth, your hands were fast to get the small knife from your belt and cut the webs as Hazel was about to reach the edge.

You ran as fast as you could just as she jumped, hugging her and shooting a gadget which you attached to her was in matter of seconds. The mutant was fast to take your wrist.

The gadget was short, and it was right on her hip so she couldn't reach you with her other hand if she wanted to.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't do this, please, don't do it.” she pleaded, your hand was open so if she tried to shoot another web at you with the left shooter, she'll drop you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's okay.” you smiled at her, with quick hand you took away her left shooter. “Let me go, it's okay, I promise.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I can't, I need you, please, don't do this.” Even with her sight blurry from the tears, Hazel was able to see how calm you were.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you.” your voice breathed out one last time.

Taking impulse from the rock, your feet pushed you as Hazel's grip slipped and let your wrist go.

A bloody gut wrenching scream came out of her mouth, feeling how throat hurt from said action, a lightning took her away while she called your name.

Next thing she knew, she was on a pond lying down. Sitting down, on her left hand she could feel the stone, Hazel opened her hand and tears began to stream down her cheeks at the look of the yellow infinity stone. What was she going to say know? How can she show her face back home without you by her side?

It took a couple of minutes for her to find any strength to stand up and get back to her time, but as soon as she arrived to the circle, she felt again on her knees. Completely numb, hearing the other voices muffled celebrating and asking her about you once her knees made noise.

Natasha's voice brought her back, Callahan looked up to her, tears falling from her eyes silently, she couldn't bring herself to tell her how her apprentice sacrificed herself for the stone.

So you could only imagine how she felt once the whole team won over Thanos again and brought her friends back, only for them to ask for you after hugging her and thanking for bringing them back.

Your funeral was alongside Tony's, but Hazel didn't cried, she just stood silent watching at her own ring on her hand, sitting on the stairs of the cabin.

Brittany was the one who sat next to her when she realized she wasn't inside with everyone else, they both were in complete silence.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You know. . .” she finally talked after hours of silence, hoarsely. “I just. . . I hope she knows that we did it. That we won.”

Brittany looked at her, compassionate at the way she was feeling. “She knows.” she said, passing one arm on her shoulders, Hazel leaned her head on her friend letting a couple of tears leave her eyes. “I'm sure she does.”

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel bottoms #bottoms 2023 #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan angst #ruby cruz #spider!hazel callahan #widow!reader

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