#should i also mention that youre not white or no. idk if you left that out on purpose

[relaxxattack]

prefacing for maxs followers who dont know who i am but stating this as like. autistic queer person. who also has a lot of other things going on in the brain. i think a lot of autistic n adhd n queer ppl (ESP white auti adhd queer ppl) need to remember that likeee. not everything we relate to . is necessarily an us exclusive experience. and sometimes the thing being judged as 'bad autism rep' or whatever wasnt really.. a character being autistic . not every character whose an outcast or blunt or has problems in social scenarios or behavioral problems is queer or autistic or has adhd and judging a character off of whether theyre good rep for those groups often comes off as. ignorant of experiences outside of autism and queerness n adhd. not to say you cant relate to characters meant to rep a different experience, just that you need to acknowledge that experience and treat it as just as needing of rep as you.

n like it shows up in like. perception of mituna. or isabela from encanto. and ive heard abt white autistic ppl seeing a black character avoiding eye contact w white people as an autism thing. and its like. fuck man not every outcast is autistic or queer or has adhd. brain damage from head trauma is a very real thing and maybe mituna Could be autistic but he isnt bad autism rep just because you (general you) dont want to think about how neurodivergent includes people with head trauma or other disabilities that may cause increased vulgarity and mood swings. isabela Could be a lesbian but that doesnt mean ppl shouldnt also consider how her story isnt like. a lesbian story just because she doesnt like the man shes supposed to get married to its abt how young women get married off n how common it can be in family oriented cultures. avoiding eye contact isnt inherently an autism thing esp when youre a poc and any little thing could be taken as a sign of aggression esp if youre black

n like i get it. when youre queer/autistic/adhd its hard not to try and grab for every little piece of representation you can get. god knows i always take a chance to hc a character i like as a lesbian. ive always been prone to making white characters black. even if a character is clearly nt i will project onto them anyways. but i think the sorts of ppl who will complain abt mituna being bad autism rep often miss the fact that like.

if your projection and desperate need to see and find people like you. gets in the way of showing proper respect to people who Arent like you but face similar issues. then you might need to take a step back and think 'fuck am i overstepping? am i ignoring others need for representation in media in my own pursuit of rep?' . yknow? i think a lot of ppl would have an easier time respecting and learning about other cultures and experiences if they just like. sat down for a bit and thought about the world outside of their own bubble. bc sometimes there gets to a point where it feels like the overall communities i mentioned care more about being listened to than they care about having an actual conversation. and all media really is a conversation. if that makes sense . ok im done now i just have a lot of thoughts abt this.hi max -🎭🎪

yeah this is all pretty interesting and fair actually and tbh id never heard of some of that stuff since im not in that fandom but its an interesting look at this concept

[ghoulysaphomet]

i kinda wanna write a short crack-ish time travel au where 12 year old jason swaps places with 22 year old jason bcs it'd be so fkn funny everyone would be so concerned. bcs like jaybin was not the angry kid fandom seems to think????? he was so sweet?? he listened, he was happy-go-lucky and wanted to help, found wonder in everything (robin gave him magic) and he was just so full of life and hope

so im just imagining:

titans: so hows it going with robin? you havent really talked about him or complained about his goody-two shoes sunshine-ness for a while. you good?

dick: well, uh. you see.

titans: also, who's the body-guard?

jason:

dick: so uh. this is.. future? robin..?

jason, 6'4 built like an idustrial fridge and a heavy aura of ''i can and will break your neck if you look at me the wrong way'' and voice gravelly from either the scar tissue or smoking or both: sup

titans:

titans: (just. stares. uncomprehending)

More under the cut V

just got like a funny picture in my head of like. a time travel AU where jason either swaps places with his younger self or somth idk but they're like sitting quietly eating breakfast and it's all fun and good but then a magical poof ensues and bam. adult jason is sitting there and jason is very confused bcs like yeah he was in fact sitting and about to eat but that had been at the nest with tim across him and maybe dick or damian snoring away on the couch in the next room.

meanwhile, dick and bruce and alf are all.. very confused bcs 1) baby jay just vanished. not only is the kid gone but in his place is a man who sorta looks like jay. (i headcanon jay as trans, this was before he came out.. tho i do have aus where he doesnt get to come out to anyone but tim, who makes a secret grave in his honor and doesn't out him.)

and bruce is like.

b: caroline...? is that you?

jay: (blinks) hm. congratulations, it's a boy. (jazzhands).

2. this man looks like he's seen the worst things humanity can offer, not to mention the very extensive scarring *covering every visible inch of his body* and the creepy either white eyes or green eyes.

and now he's sititng with just bruce and a very young looking dick and all of them just stare at each other and all jay can say is "fuckin' hell. seriously?" and groans bcs he did not want to deal with bruce. at all.

3. this man is not as surprised to be there as he should be.

jasons really not pleased with the situation but it is what it is and he's like just call constantine or zatanna or whatever. meanwhile everyone else is too busy staring at the fact jason, tiny jay, is taller than freakin' bruce and built like an industrial fridge (that isnt from lowes). none of them know how to feel about this

just like.

"you're.. awfully calm about this."

"eh, i've seen weirder." it is unsaid but jay is thinking of discowing.

n the three of them just has no idea how to treat this adult jason. this jason who seems.. familiar but so, so very different. obviously something must've happened bcs the guy looks like he's been in a freaking zombie apocalypse. and jays just like i cant wait to be home i hate this place, and makes the most unnerving comments here and there that just makes the others more confused. like.

"you can sleep in your old..? room. we will need to look for a change of clothes, though."

"ill use a guest room, i'm not setting a foot in that shrine."

"as you can see by this footage it's possible-"

"oh, that's not who killed him. look there, that's a falcone mark. this wasn't random but premediated."

"hm why are you even bothering with this case? listen - that's the sound of a skull being crushed, not the sound of an arm breaking, duh."

and they just get more confused and concerned

jason is a giant man made of muscle and rage and everyone is left reeling cause something happened to him, but he wont say what, and everyone keeps trying to guess and he doesnt clarify anything and obs no one is thinking "he died, got revived, turned into a zombie, pumped through HRT rage edition, becamea crime lord, was killed by his dad who chose to save his murderer, thrown into arkham by his older brother, broken out by his younger brother/boyfriend, made his own team of outlaws and put himself back together, only then starting to reconcile with some of the bats"

when they finally figure out how to get him back, someone, maybe baby timmers guesses "you were turned into a zombie" as a joke and jay finger guns him and says "yep" and then back jumps into the portal to get him back to his own time

meanwhile baby jason has the time of his life

not only is he apparently tall, *but* dick likes him?? he's apparently done a lot of good for crime alley??? he has a brother? boyfriend? both?? who looks up to him and is both very familiar yet he doesnt recognise him at all, and a younger brother who also looks up to him and is very protective and reminds him of like a small cat?????

dicks like we gotta get so many pictures of you!!! and jays like super confused but also like ok???

he can obviously tell that somethings up that theyre not telling him. but honestly the fact that it's like a decade into the future and he has so many people who loves him??? he decides its a problem for future him.

everyone is just very happy bruce is away on a mission in space.

[aryxchse]

the hot lifeguard. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n : no one's requesting for my husband so i simp for him on my own (and with my girl annabeth chase ofc)

warnings ; cursing, you being a simp (totally not inspired from me), him being a simp, maybe nsfw mentions idk just horny teens, hot percy jackson, my baby annabeth because she's too cute for you to handle, ALSO LONG ASS FIC WTF, well you know me, i'm a sucker for daughter of hera trope

having a crush on percy jackson was normal in the campers.

he was hot, powerful, funny, sarcastic, kind, loyal, and believe me, the list goes on.

so when he started working as a lifeguard in the camp, suddenly everyone was in the water. he, the little shit he is, surfed once in a while too, to give a little show to the girls and boys. he was the aphrodite cabin's precious, which piper was disgusted. but he was proud.

today was another day for the camp to be at lake, swimming. annabeth dragged you out from the peaceful hera cabin, saying that you should at least get in the water to survive this hot weather. even though you wanted to stay inside, she was right, like always. the weather was hot and you started to get embarresed from the amount of times you asked jason to create a wind for you.

now you were going to use percy's element to cool down, which is, your secret crush.

"having a crush on percy isn't bad as you think." annabeth said quietly, carrying her and your beach bags. you, who was carrying the snacks and your surfboard, sighed. "oh yeah? i'm literally in a fucking cult annabeth. the 'i-have-a-crush-on-percy-too' cult. and believe me, there's so many of us."

annabeth laughed at you and found a good spot while you were rambling. she put the bags down on the sand and pulled out a blue picnic blanket to claim the area.

"i know the cult, i was a member of it when i was like, 12." she joked, now putting the bags on top of the blanket to keep it in place. "then i left, realising i wasn't really in the cult."

you smirked at her as you took off your big camp shirt, laying on the blanket with your matched blue bikini. "see? you should know what i feel."

annabeth shrugged, taking off her own camp shirt, leaving herself with her yellow swimsuit. "not really." she said. "besides, there's no one like you in the cult. you're quite famous yourself."

you raised an eyebrow at her, taking a lemonade from the little fridge standed beside you. "how so, blondie?" you asked, taking a sip.

"well, you're the only daughter of the famous hera, and literally the definition of good. everyone knows and loves you, you're always helping people. the little kids call you mom sometimes for gods' sake." she explained, and you chuckled.

"what's that have to do with percy?" you asked as you grabbed a diet coke from the fridge. annabeth groaned, taking the diet coke from your hand. "what i'm trying to say is, you probably have his attention already. you're as famous as him and you're literally gorgeous."

you 'awww'ed at annabeth which she gagged playfully. you left a kiss to her cheek. "thanks annie, but i'm only successful at being little boys first love. not getting the famous percy jackson's attention."

annabeth groaned louder, laying on her back. "man, people talk about the skinny white boy like he's some god." she said. "when he was twelve, he was basically a loser."

you laughed at her and stood up, taking your surfboard. "how nice of you to talk about him like that." you joked, and annabeth made thumbs up to you. "anyways babe, i'll surf a little. there's a lotta good waves goin' on right now."

annabeth looked at the ocean and sighed. "you sure? it looks dangerous today." she said, and you only giggled at her worries. "oh please, you know i'm good at surfing as much as percy."

"yeah, sure. don't let piper hear that'." annabeth yelled after you as you walked away. you waved at her without turning back.

you looked around a bit. the apollo kids was blasting music in the food corner, which was now full of demigods. dionysus kids was making cocktails without the alcohol, because their dad's were watching them. chiron was just chilling next to mr d, a sunglass on his face, and the aphrodite kids was playing beach volleyball with the demeter kids.

then you looked at the right. oh, there he was.

percy jackson, sitted on the guard chair -you really didn't know what it's called- with that tan and muscular body of his. he had a sunglass on his face and an ice cream stick in his mouth. he lazily swinged his feet once in a while, and the blue shorts of his were looking so damn good on him. the red whistle hanged around on his bare chest, not that he touched it often.

you stopped staring when a girl accidently bumped you, apologising right after it. you smiled and said it was nothing, internally thanking the girl for making you turn back to life again. you were damn sure annabeth was making fun of you.

little thing you didn't know that percy, was observing you in that blue bikini, behind his sunglasses. what do you think was the reason of him wearing them? to be cool? nah, he doesn't even need those to be cool. he's just watching you secretly. you, didn't had any idea you were making an eye contact with him until that girl bumped to you.

he watched you dive in the water like you were poseidon's champion or something, getting on that white surfboard of yours like a damn model. percy felt like he was drooling at the sight, which he probably was.

he was snapped out of his gaze with mr d yelling at him. man, you were just about to bend over and stand up on that board.

"yes, mr d?" he said lazily, rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses.

"this little shit needs to find the bathroom, go show him." mr d pointed some little boy who was holding his shorts like his life depended on it. percy jumped down from his seat like it wasn't 2 feet tall, and smiled at the boy.

"don't mind him, he's an old man who's angry he can't drink." he said to the boy, ruffling his hair. the boy only nodded. "i don't really care anyway, i just need to pee."

percy chuckled as he picked the little boy in his arms, already taking him to the bathroom. "i'll carry you little fella. just be careful not to pee on me."

"i won't, thank you percy." the little boy said. percy wasn't suprised that he knew his name. "no problem. what's your name kid?"

"peter." he said. percy chuckled again. "yeah? mr d used to call me peter. he still does sometimes."

the little boy laughed as percy entered the bathroom. "really? so that's why he calls me percy sometimes." he said, forgetting he had to pee. percy smiled. "probably. go and let go all your pee boy, i'll be back on busin-"

he couldn't finish his sentence when annabeth rushed to the boys bathroom. "percy!" she yelled.

percy turned around to look at annabeth and smiled. "hey 'beth, nice to see you. not a really good spot for meeting don't ya thi-"

"there's no time for joking seaweed brain! she's fucking drowning!" she yelled at him. percy immediatly took of his glasses as they already start running towards the ocean.

"who?" he asked.

"y/n! you know her right?" annabeth said breathlessly.

of course he did, he fucking adored her. percy's worry only growed when he saw how big those waves were. the demigod's were already in panic as they looked at the sea. chiron called percy and said that the daughter of hera needed to be saved immediatly. percy didn't even stopped to listen to chiron as he dive into the water.

you thought you could handle it, or at least swim up and sit on your board. but no, poseidon was definetly in a bad mood, and he was taking his anger out from you, probably.

as you lost your balance and fell into the water, you didn't panicked and started swimming as usual. but big and strong waves hit you back and forth, until you were tired, swallowed too many water and fainted.

when you opened your eyes, you thought you were in elysium. or it was just some another version of the little mermaid.

percy smiled at you as you opened your eyes, his big hands cupping your face. he was panting, not because he was tired from all the swimming, no. he was panting because he fight with the thought of losing you for the past five minutes as he worked on getting out the water you swallowed.

"there you are, breath honey. can you do that?" he asked, and you caughed a bit. you nodded softly as he lifted you until you sat up, his strong arms still supporting your back.

you looked around, there was only the two of you, the crowd was long gone. you looked at percy again as your hand find it's way to your forehead. "what happened?" you asked.

"nothin' to worry about angel, just some big waves." he explained, caressing your back softly. you let your body rest on his chest, sighing as you remembered what happened.

"didn't thought the waves would get this crazy." you said, voice still hoarse as you caughed again. percy nodded as he patted your back. "me either."

after a minute of silence, percy finally speaked up again. "i... i'm sorry i was late, i took this little kid called peter to the bathroom because mr d asked me to, i swear i'd help you quicker if i didn-"

"percy, hey, it's okay." you shushed him, your hand caressing his arm. "you already saved my life."

percy nodded again. "yeah i know, i know. but i just," he sighed. "i don't know what i'd do if i lost you before i even asked you out."

you giggled to his chest. "yeah? you were gonna ask me out? when?" he smiled into your hair.

"today. been watching you for sometime now."

"creep." you joked.

"observing beauty, i'd say." he said, smirking.

you sat straight and looked deep into his eyes, which now matched with the color of the sea.

"i'd love to grab some lemonade with you, as a way of thanking you i guess." you said as you smirked back at him. percy chuckled as his hand caressed your cheek.

"who am i to refuse a sweet thank you, right?"

[wonwayne]

how enha takes care of you ☁️

pairing : ot7 x gn!reader genre : fluff, comfort, humor warnings : mentions of food word count : 1k

a/n : requested by anon! kind of kicked it off with this hee drabble but had so much fun writing for all the members. for today’s purposes, let’s keep y/n sick and alone in their apartment 🫶

💭 heeseung

my little philosophy is that significant others can be two types of caregivers — one actively tries to treat your illness, the other is emotional support

each has their own merit ofc

but hee is miraculously both

sincerely believes he can rizz you to health

he’s being a bit selfish, he worries, for making you smile all the time

because it heals him more than it heals you

but he makes up for it by making sure you eat like a king (for all three meals a day!) until you feel better

also cuddles with you in bed to keep you warm

if whatever you have is contagious, he is definitely getting it

last but certainly not least: he sings to you. acoustic covers + snippets of his self-produced music, you’re getting it all 😌

almost makes you wish you were sick more often

💭 jay

arrives at your place with like fifty grocery bags (okay maybe not fifty, but… a lot)

big believer in sleep as the best medicine so he lets you be for the most part

but as soon as you wake up and come down to the living room

say hello to a FEAST

literally no room left on the dining table and he’s still doing something in the kitchen????

“jay i can’t… consume all of this” “don’t worry, eat as much as you want for now and i’ll put the leftovers in the fridge”

at this point what is there left to say except “can you just be my husband already”

you’re about to dig in and suddenly he’s standing over you giving you the death stare

“... did i… do something wrong?” “seriously?” your heart stops before he goes, “what happened to my thank you kiss?”

UGH he’s such a softie

💭 jake

is worried SICK and cannot hide it

refuses to leave your bedroom once he first enters it unless absolutely necessary — must stay by your side at all times !!

not the most experienced but the effort is very much there

“should we take the medicine together? would that be easier?” and you KNOW he hates taking medicine

“babe why would you take nyquil. you don’t have a cold.” “idk it can’t hurt can it?” it very much can (don’t do this kids)

he drinks it with you anyway (clinks the medicine cups and says “cheers!”… what are you going to do with this man) and tries his best to fight the drowsiness

ends up dozing with his head on your lap, kneeling by the bed

peak puppy position i tell you PEAK

💭 sunghoon

what matters is not so much how he takes care of you but how he looks so good while taking care of you: simple white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up just to the elbows, hair slicked back a little from washing his face, setting damp towels on your forehead and his forearm veins emerging as he wrings them… help me

it’s the wuthering heights bedridden cathy victorian era aesthetic okay

speaking of books why do i get the feeling that sunghoon would read to you

or simply talk to you about his day or childhood memories or anything to keep you comfortable and entertained

idk i feel like he’d want to remind you of his presence in a “i’m here for you” type of way but without being intrusive… is not at all offended when you fall asleep to his voice

don’t you just love when sunghoon.

💭 sunoo

i have one very specific idea for sunoo and i’m kinda obsessed with it

MINT. TEA. (if you know you know… mint tea is the sinus relief GOD)

and ofc as our resident mint choco lover, how could he not

“baby i made something for you!” you peer into the mug and you’re like 🤨 “you didn’t add chocolate syrup to this did you” “wtf i’m not a monster why would i do that??”

his discography and food preferences beg to differ but he truly does give you pure, steaming mint tea

it is so perfect i promise you will fall in love with him all over again

mint aside we all know this man is a human vitamin like i cannot imagine you staying sick for long

no need to binge tv (it makes your head hurt more anyway), just have sunoo spill all the drama to you for seven hours straight and you’ll be good to go

💭 jungwon

makes you wonder, did this boy have a medical degree this entire time and just not tell me??

knows exactly which medications help with which symptoms, gives you all the immune boosting foods, pulls up with a weighted blanket and a heating pad and a plushie to hug— you’re getting the best sleep of your life no question about it

listens to you so well “i miss what it was like to breathe” “it’s frustrating, isn’t it? as soon as one nostril clears, the other fills up, and it never seems to end” “YES ohmy— [cough] god, yes, you get it :(”

at the same time i think won is the most likely to avoid skinship when you’re sick bc yeah that stuffy nose does not sound fun

is smart about it though; prepares a bubble bath for you and then sets up the heating pad and everything on your bed while you’re in the bath

becomes 143x touchier once you’re back to normal (“i missed squishing your cheeks” “i missed squishing your cheeks!”)

💭 niki

crashes at your place to make sure you’re having a good time

it’s either you watching him game or movie marathon together

you don’t say it but you are so inordinately grateful that he’s caring enough to chill with you on days like these, you know he’d rather do dates outside and play pranks on you every other hour, but he’s giving that up just for you

would share a tub of ice cream with you if you’re craving it, although he voices his concerns first “is it… right to eat cold stuff when you have a cold?” “it defrosts in my mouth don’t worry” “okay you do you”

basically a good old sleepover

every time he checks your temperature he sings his part in fever (he’s humorous like that)

[slytherinboysappreciation]

SMUT REQ LESGOOOOO

Male reader and Tom are from the Wool's orphanage and they grow together, so ofc it would be natural for Tom to think that they would end up together, right? To have reader standing beside him as he becomes the Dark Lord? Wrong. Reader never considered him more than a best friend or a brother that should be protected. So when there's a rumor abt reader dating someone Tom was furious, he went to search reader to confirm the rumor (which is not true) but alas, he's too furious to listen so he fuck him dumb, and Tom started speaking parseltongue while getting it on

Bruh idk how to explain this lmao, English is hard 😔 But hey u can make the setting for this one when Tom was alr a Dark Lord (daddy) or when he's in the 7th year.

Rumor - T. R. x male!Reader

A/N: I’m so sorry for taking so long to get to this 😅 My writing motivation has been a little skewed lately. However, I did it! And I hope you like it!

I changed the parseltongue part to him speaking it when he gets angry enough because it just helped the story along more. I hope that’s okay.

It’s unedited with no use of Y/N. I think I tagged everything, but let me know if I missed something please! 💛

And of course, this fic contains explicit sexual content so ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS!!!!

CW: Possessiveness; mentioned failed love confessions; angst; a mention of horcruxes; anger, lots of anger; murder mention; Tom gets a bit physical with reader; dubcon touching; dubcon sexual content, (consent is there, but not referenced); handjob; doggy style, I think?; Tom ties reader’s hands with a belt; anal sex; anal penetration; no lube mentioned; dirty talk; aftercare; slightly fluffy ending; also, this takes place after Hogwarts so Tom and Reader are both of age!!!!

1676 words

You were Tom Riddle’s best friend.

Everyone knew it. He’d made sure of it as soon as your friendship had been born. You were his friend. First and foremost, above anything else.

You were his. His friend. His follower. Almost his lover even.

Not anymore.

From as far back as he could remember until his seventh year of school, you’d been by Tom’s side. The two of you grew up together. Shared classes together. Practiced dark magic spells together.

And then graduation came and ruined everything.

He hadn’t meant it to. When he’d confessed to you, he’d thought you’d felt the same. Thought you’d felt the spark between you. The feverish heat that came with late night talks and too long glances.

But no.

You hadn’t seen Tom as anything more than a friend. Even worse, you’d called him your little brother. It had made him sick, to think that all that time he’d been pining after you, you’d never even looked his way.

So he’d cut you out of his life. Carved you out of his heart and left a bleeding hole there instead.

It hurt every day you weren’t there.

But he’s stronger now. He has Abraxas and Bellatrix to take your place.

He never finds himself clutching his chest, gripping so hard his knuckles turn white from how strong the pain is of missing you. Never. Not even once.

Not even making a horcrux hurt as badly as missing you.

But Tom was content. He was fine. He had other followers who were just as loyal as you’d been. He didn’t need you anymore.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

It all changed the moment your name fell from Abraxas’ lips.

Tom’s head snaps up immediately, eyes cold and intense. “What did you say?”

Abraxas blanches, as if realizing his mistake. “My Lord. I just— I didn’t mean—“

“What did you say?” Tom’s voice is low, almost a hiss of warning.

“I— I said that Lestrange saw him out with someone. A— A woman, it looked like.”

The fury is slow building, but its intensity could’ve fueled countless more murders. Tom rises slowly. He stands, his aura sucking the life out of the room.

“I will return.”

With that, he sweeps out of the room, a cold blaze of fury and betrayal following in his wake.

Neither Abraxas or Bellatrix try to follow.

He finds you in your house. Whether he knocked or not, you’re surprised to see him all the same.

“Tom?” You stare in bafflement, maybe even awe.

He’s not surprised. Tom’s been told many times of his physical beauty, something that only heightened over the years. And it’s been many years since he’s seen you.

You look… very much the same as ever. New hairstyle, perhaps. Your face has matured a bit, making you look a little older. But you’re still you.

“Hello.” He spits out, barely able to hold back the rage and flood of feelings that fill his mind. Anger, betrayal, hurt; as if the rejection had been mere moments ago.

“What are you—“

“Who was she?” Tom demands, interrupting you. You blink.

“Huh? Who was who?”

Tom grabs your shoulder, his fingers digging into your shirt. “The woman you were with.” His voice is venom, pure anger in his tone. His voice shakes with it as he speaks. “Lestrange saw you with someone. Who. Was. She?”

You blink, visibly confused. Then your expression clears. “Oh. Her? She’s just a friend.”

“I don’t believe you. Who. Is. She?” Tom grabs your other shoulder, barely holding back from shaking you.

“A-Aurora Greengrass,” you stammer out, looking even more startled by his anger. “I swear, we’re just friends—“

‘Just friends.’

That’s exactly what you’d called Tom’s relationship with you. A ‘just friends’ thing.

He doesn’t even listen to the rest of your words. Blind to everything but the fury in his veins, he starts rummaging through your shirt pocket. Looking for something. Anything to prove you wrong.

He only finds a pack of cigs and an old lighter.

He tosses them to the side and hauls you over to the nearest wall. Slamming you against it and holding you firmly in place with one hand. “Who is she to you?”

You stammer, unable to form words. Tom grips your shoulder tighter, pressing closer to you. “Answer me!”

“I— I can’t understand what you’re saying!” You cower in the face of his anger. “I can’t understand— Ahhh!”

You yelp and shudder as Tom’s hand grazes your groin. He ignores your reaction and digs into your pants’ pockets, looking for anything at all. There’s nothing but fabric and a single money bill.

Still, his hand continues to search, roaming from pocket to pocket like something will appear. Nothing does.

It only heightens his anger, makes his jaw clench with fury. His words coming out in a hiss. “Is she your lover? Your wife? Or is she just another useless little toy for you?”

You let out a pathetic little moan, hips jolting a bit. Tom’s vaguely aware that his hand has stopped wandering where it’s supposed to be. But he can’t be bothered to look.

“Answer me!” He spits out. “Who is she to you, really?”

“I can’t—“ Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine. “Tom, please! I— I can’t understand you!”

Your hips jolt again and Tom finally looks down. He’s groping you, hand wandering across your half-formed hard on. Unconsciously feeling you up.

And you’re not pushing him away.

In fact, you’re stifling a moan, resting your head back against the wall. Eyes half closed. As if you’re… enjoying this.

A plan forms in his mind. A wicked, wicked plan. If you’re not willing to answer him… he’ll just have to fuck the answer out of you.

“Couch,” he hisses, “Now!”

He yanks you after him, relishing the way you stumble. You don’t deserve his kindness right now; what you need is to be fucked dumb.

Tom pushes you down against the couch and reaches for your belt. You don’t even protest. You just whimper softly and let him do what he wants.

He pulls your cock out, sliding his thumb along the tip. You moan and arch up, precum coating his thumb.

“T-Tom!” You gasp as he fists your cock, gripping tight enough to make you see stars. Your hips thrust up automatically, fucking into the sweet pressure of his hand.

“Shut up!” Tom hisses, eyes narrowing. He starts to move his hand and you choke with pleasure.

“I can’t— fuck!” Your head is thrown back against the couch, hands gripping the cushions tight enough to make your knuckles white.

You moan and writhe under Tom as he guides his hand along your cock, shifting and changing the pressure until he finds what makes you gasp.

And then, he pulls back.

Making you almost sob from the loss.

You reach for him, voice cracking pathetically. “Tom, please…!”

He bats your hands away, manhandling you until you’re kneeling on the couch. Pants around your ankles.

You grip the back of the couch tightly, practically clinging to it as Tom undoes his own belt. He grabs your hands, looping the thick leather around them. Pinning your hands together. You’re tied up now, unable to free your hands.

Tom frees his own cock, lining himself up with your asshole. You shudder and whimper, face flushed red. “Please!”

“Needy little bastard,” Tom hisses. “Can barely even wait for me.”

You just moan and press back against him. “Fuck, that’s so hot…”

Slowly, Tom sinks into you. Inch by glorious inch, he slides his cock into your greedy little hole. You clench hotly around him, making his breathing stutter.

You feel divine.

Hot and tight and perfect.

He bottoms out, cock buried deep inside you. He grips your shoulders, resting his forehead against your back in an effort to keep from cumming on the spot.

You’re a moaning mess, soft pleading babbles mixed with whimpers and gasps. Tom can barely understand you, you’re so incoherent.

It’s exactly what he wants. You fucked out enough that you forget how to speak.

Finally, he starts to move. In and out, each thrust getting faster and more aggressive. Slowly building up until you’re sobbing underneath him, mindlessly whining with pleasure.

You look glorious. Perfect.

It’s like a dream come true, you underneath him finally, just like it was always meant to be.

The thought makes his hips stutter and he grips your cock. He won’t last long like this; you’re clenching around him too tightly.

With a couple good firm strokes, you’re spilling onto the couch, cumming with a loud cry.

Not even moments later, Tom thrusts into your ass, filling you up with a gasp of his own. He shudders and leans against you again, struggling to catch his breath.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, absently rubbing along your back. The rage is gone from him, leaving him feeling tired and drained.

“Are you…” Alright doesn’t seem like the right word for the situation.

But you just moan softly. Roll over onto your back and gaze up at him with dreamy eyes. “Fuck yeah…”

Tom chuckles softly, almost tenderly. He can’t help it. It’s you.

Gently, he undoes his belt around your hands. They flop uselessly to your sides, as boneless as the rest of you. You just melt into a puddle of dreamy gazes and soft smiles.

He literally fucked you dumb.

As you continue to bask in the afterglow of your fucking, clarity starts to return to Tom. This is his opportunity. His chance to look around and see what you’ve been doing with your life since he cut you out of his.

But…

Gazing down at you…

Tom settles himself on the couch next to you and pulls you into his arms. You happily snuggle into him, burying your face in his neck.

Snooping can wait.

It’s been forever since he had you all to himself like this.

And he’s planning on taking advantage of every moment he can get.

[clxja16]

Enough

Part IV

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: Toto Wolff's Daughter Au!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 3.5K+

Author's Note: AHHHHH I think I'm done. well idk, if you guys want more, I could probably write one more. However I don't think anything will top the scene after Charles DNF in the Netherlands. I could literally talk about that scene for hours on end. I need to know what you guys think of that scene, because it's probably some of my best work ever. I hope you guys enjoy though. A lot of time and dedication went into this fic. Also this is in no way a reflection of these people in real life. This is not based on real life events. Nothing in this story is fact. This is a work of fiction, purely for entertainment purposes.

Part I, Part II, Part III

------------------------------------

“I cannot believe you,” Susie says after she hears the front door slam shut from you walking out.  She slightly shakes her head, as she looks to the gods, praying for strength.  The strength to not kill Toto at this moment.  

“Me? You can’t believe me? I cannot believe our daughter, does she even think about how the rushed marriage will look to the public?”  

“Toto,” Susie sighs, “you’ve gone too far.”  She doesn’t know how she can get him to understand that you’re not a little girl anymore.  “She’s chosen Charles, and you have to accept that already.” 

“But she could do so much better…” 

“She doesn’t want better,” Susie raises her voice in disbelief.  “Toto, she doesn’t want anyone else, she wants Charles.  That’s it, that’s the end of the discussion.”  Susie doesn’t know what more to say on the matter.  

“He’s going to hurt her…” 

“Toto, that is enough, just because you had an affair that ended your marriage, does not mean Charles is going to do the same!  Why can’t you see that?”  Susie doesn’t like that she brought up Toto’s affair but it must be said.  “Pack your stuff, you’re leaving for the Netherlands first thing in the morning.”  

“I don’t have to be there for a few more days…” 

“Well, then fucking go to the factory Toto!” Susie can’t handle it anymore, as she stands from the table, “I don’t want to see you, until you apologize to our daughter.  Hopefully before her wedding, so help me God.” 

-

Charles had left, around the same time that you had earlier that night to attend a work dinner.  He returned home after you and when he did, he found you on the bedroom floor surrounded by all the legal paperwork for the wedding.  He could see your eyes were red from crying, and he knew that it wasn’t from happy tears.  You were holding a white out pen and the paperwork to change your name stood out among the bunch.  

“Ma cherie…” 

“Hi,” you greet Charles with a weak tone, you couldn’t even look at him properly. 

“What happened?”  Charles moves the papers out of the way to take a seat next to, pulling your face to look at him.  He can see more tears roll down your cheeks.  

“Daddy asked if I was pregnant…” 

Charles' brows are furrowed together at your statement, “Why would he think that?” 

“Because…” you smile a sarcastic smile, “the only people who get married this fast are people who are knocked up.”  You cry, and laugh at the same time as you recall the evening to Charles.  You take a moment before you pull away from Charles, wiping away your tears.  “I don’t want anything more to do with my father.”  You grab the paper for the name change off the floor, and prepare the white out pen.  

Charles places his hand on yours stopping you from continuing, “maybe you should wait.”  Charles’ watches you carefully, he doesn’t want to say the wrong word, “just sleep on it for now.” 

You look up at Charles, and you can see his worry for you.  He doesn’t want you to make any decisions that you will regret later on.  You stare back at the name you have written across the paper, Wolff-Leclerc.  

-

The next morning you and Charles set out to drive to the Netherlands.  The drive surprisingly doesn’t take as long as you anticipate, time travels fast with Charles.  However when you do arrive at the hotel, you realize how much the drive took out of you.  The two of you pass out, practically right away, and you don’t wake up until the next morning.  By that time, you guys have to be at the paddock.  

You make it a point to showcase that you and Charles are together.  You arrive at the paddock with Charles, dressed in Ferrari red.  Part of you does this to spite your father, the other part of you does this because you want Charles to know you pick him over everything else.  While Charles is in the driver’s briefing with the FIA, you make a stop at the Mercedes motorhome.  

The motorhome is mostly empty, the majority of the team being in the garage at this moment.  However you knew your father would be in his office right now.  He scheduled all his online meetings with the factory at this time, because the motorhome was quiet.  When you make it to his door, you don’t hesitate to knock.  

“Come in,” he says, right away.  You walk in and hand him the letter in your hand.  You don’t say a word to him, you’re trying to make this as clean cut as possible.  He takes the letter from you, “what is this?” He asks as he begins to open it up. 

“My resignation letter, effective immediately.” 

“You’re resigning, what are you planning on doing with your life?” 

“I’m going to let Charles take care of me,” you lied to your father.  You tell him this, purely out of spite.  He always raised you to be able to take care of yourself.  His biggest thing was he never wanted you to rely on someone else.  So you tell him this, just so he can suffer.  You don’t stay to see his reaction, or hear anything more he has to say.  You eventually go on to spend the rest of the weekend avoiding him.  

-

You spend Sunday watching the race in the Ferrari garage.  The beginning of the race was chaotic to say the least.  You knew Charles was making his own calls, when the pit crew is yelling at each other, and no one seems to know what is going on.  You see Fred look at you, like you have an idea of what’s going on.  You’re too amazed that Fred can see this far back into the Ferrari garage, to even give a reaction to his stare.  

As you continue to watch the race, you know Mercedes messed up the strategy.  Especially when George had a good qualifying.  Then you noticed that Charles couldn’t keep up with the Haas, and you concluded that there must be a problem with his car.  When Ferrari does decide to retire him, you see him come out of his car.  You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not happy in the slightest.  He ignores you as he makes his weigh-in and goes straight to the media pen.  You look at Andrea, and you see him shake his head. 

You head to Charles' driver's room, knowing he would go straight there after the media pen.  It doesn’t take much longer, as you hear Charles’ heavy footsteps.  When he enters the room, he doesn’t say anything.  He shuts the door, and takes a deep breath.  Then he launches the water bottle he was holding across the room, the cap comes loose as it hits the wall, water splattering everywhere. 

He takes another deep breath, before saying, “sorry.”  Charles runs his hands over his face, he paces the room as he talks, “I know I fucked up the pit-stop, I didn’t give them enough time to grab the tires, before I came in.”  He doesn’t look at you as he talks, “that was my fault, I know that, but for fuck’s sake, they left me out there to get overtaken by Hulkenburg in a fucking Haas.”  Charles sighs, his shoulders drop, he doesn’t look like himself. He takes a heavy breath, now looking at you and he says, “I’m tired y/n.” Charles sits on the floor, instead of on the bench next to you.  He sits by your feet, leaning against your legs, resting his head in your lap.  He reaches up to hold your hand, and he repeats, “I’m tired.”  His head feels heavy in your lap, you place your hand on his head, playing with the ends of his hair, while your other hand continues to hold his. He looks straight on at the wall.  

“Just rest Charles,” you say, you’re not sure how you can comfort him at this moment.  “You can rest now.”

“Can I really?” He asks, as he looks up at you.  You can see how the season has weighed him down.  You slowly nod your head at him, and he closes his eyes.  You know that he doesn’t actually fall asleep, but the two of you stay like that for the rest of the race. You stay right there, in that same position, for Charles, for until he’s ready to move. 

When the race ends, Charles finally moves, he changes out of his race suit. He heard Pierre got promoted to P3, and insisted on staying to see the podium.  You see him put on a smile for his best friend.  You watch them make plans to celebrate Pierre’s podium after Monza, during the weekend they have off.  You watch Charles pretend he isn’t tired for his friend’s sake.  And you feel your love for him grow.   You love that he can be vulnerable with you, and you love that he will always be proud of those he loves accomplishments.  

-

As soon as the Dutch grand prix was over, you and Charles hopped on a flight to Milan.  The Italian grand prix was a home grand prix for Ferrari, so there were events all week long.  Charles’ schedule was packed through and through.  You don’t bother him with the wedding stuff, you allow him to focus on Ferrari this week.  

Susie comes out to Monza, and she helps you plan for the wedding.  Although it’s a small event, she insists on getting you a dress, maybe not your dream dress, but a nice dress nonetheless.  Charles is at the Ferrari Ray-ban event, while you and Susie are going through Milan, looking at several dress shops.  

You are in one particular shop, trying to pull a few dresses to try on, when you look at Susie and say, “thank you coming Mamma.” 

Susie can see as tears line your eyes, she knows that you and your father being at a cross like this hurts you.  “Of course sweetheart, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

“I wish Daddy felt the same,” you say somberly, “has he said anything to you after that night.” 

Susie turns to look back at the dresses, “I-”  She pauses for a second, “I haven’t seen your father since that night.” 

“What do you mean, you haven’t seen daddy since that night?” 

Susie sighs, “I told him that I didn’t want to see him until he apologized to you, so I haven’t see him.”  

You can’t help but let out a cackle of a laugh.  You slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself, as Susie looks at you wide-eyed.  “I’m sorry,” you say, as you begin to giggle some more, “I’m sorry, but that-”  You can’t contain your laughter at this point.  You know part of you is laughing to stop yourself from crying, but it feels so good to laugh.  And oh do you laugh, “that is too funny, you kicked daddy out of the house?” 

“Well,” Susie can’t help but to laugh at your reaction, “I had to sweetheart.”  She looks at you fondly, pushing your hair behind your ear, and you stop laughing.  “You didn’t deserve that from him,” she says seriously.  

You feel a few tears fall, “thank you Mamma.”  

Susie shakes her head, “now enough talk of your father, let’s focus on you sweetheart.”  She smiles at you, and you nod your head.  You try to push all thoughts of your father from your mind, focusing on the task at hand.  You and Susie spend the rest of the day shopping.  

-

Being in Italy does good for Charles, you can see it clearly on Saturday.  He qualifies in P3, but it makes him happy.  The fans make him happy.  And even though he didn’t really rest, he isn’t tired.  You watch him fondly from the Ferrari garage as he does the post qualifying interviews.  After he wraps up on Saturday, the two of you are walking back to his car to head back to the hotel.  You can feel the bounce in his step, how light he feels. 

“I love you,” you say, as you look at Charles, as the two of you walk. He stops, and looks at you.  His eyes full of love, as he displays a fond smile.  You take all of him in at this moment.  You can’t help yourself from falling deeper in love with him.  You’ll never love someone like you love him.  

“I love you too,” he says.  To anyone else it’s the same ‘I love you’s you said to each other over and over again, but to you, it’s so much more.   

-

It was another Sunday, another Grand Prix, and your second time watching from the Ferrari garage.  Although there is nothing technically different from the Mercedes garage, it all felt different.  Being at Mercedes it felt like a business, it felt like work. Mercedes was cold, it was calm, it was like a normal nine to five workplace.  While being at Ferrari it feels like passion.  You feel the desperation to be great like they once were.  You understand why Charles remains so loyal.  Being there, in the garage it makes you cheer for Ferrari.  You see them trying, you feel their need to win, and you want them to be great.  It only took two races, but you’re definitely a Ferrari fan.  

As you watched the race, you felt yourself constantly holding your breath.  Carlos was brilliant defending against Max, Checo and even Charles.  He drove to the absolute limit and you were amazed that he held onto the lead for as long as he did.  Charles drove the wheels off his car.  Going for ridiculous moves, and pushing it to the absolute limit every chance he got.  Although you must say, you felt like you were going to have a heart attack watching the last five laps.  Yet, when you saw the smile on Charles’ face after  the race, you think your almost heart attack was worth it.  

Watching them race makes you miss it even more.  Watching them push the car to the limit, to the extreme and hold it all together to bring it home, makes you itch to have that feeling under you.  When Charles makes his way back into the garage, after all of his requirements, he doesn’t waste any time in finding you.  He pulls and holds you close.  You let him, sweaty and all.  You can’t help but to just smile stupidly at him.  Seeing him this happy, makes you happy.  

“I know,” he smiles and drops his head bashfully, “I shouldn’t be this happy about P4, but I had fun.”

“I think you should be proud,” you say, making him look at you, “proud that you gave it your all, and you could give it your all.” 

Charles doesn’t need to say another word, as he pulls you in for a kiss.  

Toto was trying to meet Fred to discuss some things, when he sees yours and Charles' interaction within the Ferrari garage.  He witnesses the private moment, away from the crowds, from the cameras, from everyone else.  He sees you being deeply in love with Charles.  Toto has been watching you all weekend long, and last weekend too.  He knows now how much you love Charles.  He sees it now.  Toto can finally see what everyone else saw.  

“Charles,” Fred calls from across the garage, as he beckons for Charles.  You let him go, as he catches up with Fred.  At this time you notice your father standing there watching you.  

“Darling,” Toto calls out to you, as he steps closer.  

“Hi,” you say. 

Toto doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to make this better, how to fix this.  He knows he messed this all up.  He knows it’s his fault.  He just doesn’t know where to start, when really there’s only one place to start. “I’m sorry.”  

You’re taken aback by your father’s apology.  You never expected him to actually apologize.  You thought that eventually you’d feel guilty enough to make up with your father.  

“I’m sorry, y/n.”  Toto repeats again, “I should have never suggested you were pregnant and that’s why you guys were getting married.  I know now that you really love this boy, and that he really loves you.”  

You smile, as you feel a few tears line your eyes.  This time you are certain they’re happy tears.  “Thank you daddy,” you say, as you hug your father.  And just like all the times when you were a little girl, your father has made all your problems go away.  

“Now,” Toto starts off, and he pulls back from you, “may I please come to your wedding, if it is still this Tuesday?” 

“I hope you do come,” you say genuinely.  

Just outside of the Ferrari garage, Charles and Fred watch you and Toto.  Fred shakes his head at your father for being so stubborn.  While Charles just smiles fondly, because now he sees you genuinely happy. 

-

After all the festivities, you remembered the news that you had to tell Charles.  Charles had just walked out of the bathroom, freshly out of the shower.  Towel in his hand drying his hair.  He sits on the edge of the bed, while you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around him.  Pressing your cheek against his shoulder blade.  

“I have something to tell you,” you say softly to Charles. 

“What is ma cherie?” Although you don’t see it, you can hear him smiling.  

“I got a call from Zac Brown,” you say.  Charles doesn’t need to hear more as he turns around to look at you excitedly.  “Apparently, someone has been constantly raving about me to his drivers,” you say knowing exactly who has been raving about you to Lando and Oscar.  “And his drivers keep telling him about it.”  You laugh as you see how excited Charles is to hear your news.  “Zac asked if I wouldn’t mind doing some simulator for Mclaren.” 

“Oh this is great news,” Charles says as he pulls you into a kiss.  

“I know it’s not really back to racing…” 

“But it’s a start.” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “It’s a start.” 

“I’m so happy for you,” Charles says, as he kisses you again.  You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him down.  Charles falls against you, planting more kisses over your face. 

“Thank you Charles.” 

Charles pulls away to look at you, “no need to thank me, I love to brag about my fiancée.” 

-

Today was finally the day.  Although it wasn’t a big or traditional wedding, there were certain things that your parents and Charles’ mom insisted you guys do.  Like how it was bad luck to see each other before the actual wedding.  So you were getting ready in your hotel room, while Charles and his brothers all got ready in another room.  

You tried to tell your parents that this wasn’t going to be a big event, that you would make it up to them and plan an actual wedding, however that all fell on deaf ears.  They fussed and doted on you all morning before going to the courthouse.  You look into the vanity mirror and behind you, you can see Susie and Toto.  In between fussing over you, they make up.  Your father apologizes and he makes amends.  Your mamma forgives and she loves continually.  The pieces of your family begin to slide back into place.  

As you make your way to the courthouse, Toto insists on walking you in.  You smile, allowing your father.  You wrap your arm around his, in front of you is Susie and Jack walks in first.  Just behind the door, there stands Charles.  His brothers by his side, all dressed in matching casual suits.  His mother stands just off to the side of them. You don’t know why but the sight has tears falling from your eyes, happy tears.  

“Ma cherie,” Charles exclaims as he sees you crying.  He comes up to you wiping away your tears with a smile, “no more crying already.” 

You giggle, you know a lot of tears have been shed these past few weeks.  “It’s happy tears, I promise.”  

Charles smiles at you.  At this moment, Toto unwraps your arm from his, and gives your hand to Charles.  He takes your hand, and both you and him look at Toto.  You know what this moment signifies, nothing more needs to be said.  

One thing about courthouse weddings, they are very efficient.  The officiant says what he needs to, you and Charles both say your ‘I do’s, kiss, and they announce you married.  “I now present the two of you married, as Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc.”  The officiant looks back down at his paper, “or I should say Mr. Leclerc and Mrs. Wolff-Leclerc.”  Your family and Charles’ family cheers at the announcement.  

-

While you and Charles took pictures down by the lake, your families watched on.  During the picture of you with your parents, did Toto whisper to you, “thank you.”  

“For what daddy?” you question, looking up at your father innocently.   

“For being proud to be a Wolff.” 

“I am your daughter,” you say, as you look back at the camera and smile.

------------------------------------

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[songsofadelaide]

HELLOO!!! me again teehee i was wondering if u still accepted requests or if theyre closed for now but i still wanted to share my ting!! moment but its totally up to u whether or not u’ll accept.

in part two of the cbffs hoshina x reader series, hoshina mentioned reader should write him letters if there are anything reader cant say to his face and i was wondering if we could get like a moment where that happens im thinking uhh since hoshina is pretty important member of the force maybe he gets too busy/ preoccupied/ spending too much time w work and while reader understands this it doesnt mean she doesnt feel lonely sometimes… maybe add a bit of jealousy w hoshina spending alot more time w/ okonogi or whoever/ whatever scenario if thats up to ur liking and reader just gets distant?? and decides to leave a letter to hoshinas table telling how she feels as she cant say what shes feeling to his face

idk theyve been so cute and happy i wanna ruin it EMZ!!! lowkey theres already a number of good jealous hoshina we need more of jealous reader imo. thank uuu!!!

ANON WHY?! Like why ruin a perfectly good thing LOL BUT I GET! 😂 I'm all for fluff, but maybe the reader should go apeshit sometimes. 🤭

This will be the final part of my Radiant Point series, which took on a life of its own after I received so many lovely requests for more parts of it! 💛

My apologies too that this took so long! There's balancing life in real-time. (I just quit my job and am now hunting for a new one lol! 😂)

flare — another side story to radiant point. ✧ refulgence | candor

cw: vice captain soshiro x platoon leader (f) reader, fiancee reader, childhood friends to lovers, jealous + mean reader, no use of 'yn', happy reunions.

Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro of the Third Division was perhaps the second most admired person in Tokyo. 

Not only that, but perhaps he's also the second most busy person in your division.

You learned about that the hard way one day when you found Soshiro conversing with one of the Operations trainees Konomi assigned to him during low-risk missions while on your way to the Captain's office. You just wrapped up from a mission yourself when you nearly walked in on him and the young but pretty girl. She had a neat look to her person and evidently took everything he said to heart, jotting down notes as he spoke to her about pointers you had no idea about. If you remembered correctly, too, she must be one of Konomi's best and brightest since she had no issue assigning her to the Vice Captain, of all people. 

"Well? Did you get all of that, Tateyama? It's a lot to consider, but Okonogi-chan thinks you're capable enough."

"Yes, boss! I-I mean sir!" The Operations trainee, Tateyama, eagerly nodded her assent as she closed her notepad and slipped it back into the pocket of her white coat. 

"Do you have any other questions?"

"D-Do you have a girlfriend, Vice Captain?!"

"I'm engaged to Platoon Leader Koganei," Soshiro replied with his usual cheer. "You must not know about it since we've just recently announced it."

"O-Oh, I see! One of our Platoon Leaders…" 

"She and I are childhood friends, too."

"Ah! And childhood friends, too!" The younger girl remarked with a look of complete surprise on her face. "How romantic!" 

You left them to their conversation after hearing just how harmless it was and decided to pay no thought to it afterwards. A young girl with a silly crush on your fiancé was nothing to feel threatened about. More than anything, it was rather flattering to know just how well-sought-after Soshiro was and that he still chose you out of all the people he could be with.

But then you realised the young girls around him may not be as harmless as you initially thought.

The young Operations trainees were taking a break from weapons calibrations when you overheard their conversation at the mess hall that afternoon. You didn't mean to, of course. You and Tae were there for a break yourselves, but something in the tone of their voices made you do a double-take.

"I can't believe you actually asked Vice Captain Hoshina if the rumours were true!" 

"I-I know! It's too bad that they were. That means he's off-limits," said the girl you recognised as Tateyama from the other day. "B-But that doesn't mean we can't daydream about him a little now, can we? He's just so cool!"

"Exactly! And he's got a cute side, too. Maybe if we show him just how good we are, he might cave in and even consider enterta—"

"Well, that's not a good w— O-Otome-chan?!"

Your fellow Platoon Leader was unable to stop you from marching towards their table, where you unceremoniously slammed down your favourite iced drink.

"P-Platoon Leader K—!" The girls hastily rose to their feet to meet your smiling yet furious gaze. "We—"

"You're… Tateyama, aren't you? The one assigned to the Vice Captain," you said, not even allowing them to speak. "And you are?"

"A-Akabane, ma'am," the other girl stammered.

"My, you must think so little of Vice Captain Hoshina if you think he'll consider entertaining little brats like you," you stated with a wicked grin on your face. "How… funny. I seem to recall the Vice Captain telling you that he was already engaged, Tateyama. But that doesn't bother you at all, does it?"

"I-I…"

"This isn't high school, children. We aren't in the business of stealing other women's boyfriends here. Even more so that he's engaged. We're all about saving lives and subjugating Kaiju here. If you're really as smart as Konomi-chan says you are, you'll know what's more important."

How scary, Tae thought to herself, though she couldn't blame you for reacting that way, too. Then again, these kids are way too brazen!

Captain Ashiro Mina of the Third Division, a pillar of strength and a beacon of light for the people of Tokyo, has been reduced to matchmaking duties because she's had just about enough.

Because two of her best officers were acting like idiots.

She was supportive of your relationship with Soshiro at first, but now that you were unable to coexist in the same space whenever the Vice Captain was around, she thinks it's borderline ridiculous. You couldn't even deliver reports without glaring at him wherever your eyes met! (And you admit that it's totally unprofessional on your part.) Mina is forgiving, but your situation begs the question now.

Can loving someone really fry your brain that much?

She heard about how you scolded the younger Operations trainees and even had Konomi apologising for their "brazen" behaviour, as Tae also mentioned.  

Soshiro's not-so-subtle teasing and flirting aren't helping your case, either. Everyone knew he liked throwing around little endearments, but the way he spoke to you was different— his voice hushed to a whisper and a string of endearments he'd rather not let anyone else hear—and it made sense to the rookies that you were a blubbering mess afterwards.

But they all noticed how you avoided the Vice Captain like he had the plague even though he just whispered yet another light-hearted sweet nothing to you. It was clear to them that you were annoyed, but the way your lips quivered in embarrassment gave you away and you might as well just combust on the spot.

"I'm acting like a fool…"

The final straw was when you were taking your bath late in the night. Mina realised you were purposely avoiding everyone else by volunteering to be the last one to take a bath and mop up the floors. You thought you'd be all alone by then, but you were shell-shocked by the dark silhouette that appeared behind you as you groaned to yourself. 

"C-Captain! I-It's late! Wh—"

Your Captain held her belongings in one hand while the other had a finger gun pointed at you. "You need to tell me if you're acting like a fool for a reason."

Soshiro has had just about enough of your attitude lately.

Your jealous outburst was cute when he first heard about it, but the Operations trainees wanted nothing to do with him anymore after that. And he couldn't have that happening since they had to practise analysing vitals and situations and calibrating weapons with someone. He will have to pass on the task to the Platoon Leaders, but he needed to speak with them— and you. 

You avoided him as much as you possibly could and everyone else picked up on it now because no one else spoke up whenever you two were in close proximity, as if they were waiting and anticipating for the two of you to reconcile. You didn't mention anything about leaving Tachikawa, too, since he found out earlier this week that your platoon was assigned under Ryo and Tae in the meantime.

"I gave Koganei an assignment. She's at Ariake," Mina told her Vice Captain as he inquired about your whereabouts. "She… didn't want me to tell you about it."

"Ah, I see," came Soshiro's flat response. "I apologise for draggin' the entire division in our…"

"She'll be back tomorrow. When she arrives, I'll need you two back here in my office to discuss something," she stated. "In the meantime, Hoshina, have you considered organising the files at your office?"

Letters were among the many things you and Soshiro shared, especially when you went to France to further your fencing skills. For the young man who loved to read and devoured nearly everything that had words on it, your letters to him were always a source of delight. When you were still in France, it took around 10 days for your letters to reach each other, so you always had something new to read almost every week.  

He was utterly elated when he found yet even more letters from you addressed to him, though you never sent them his way because of how candid they were. It pleased him to no end to find out that his feelings for you were reciprocated. In your letters, he could trust you to give voice to the very depths of your emotions, even more now after he told you to write to him whenever you wanted to. 

On his office desk sat a single letter in your familiar and favourite cream stationery, and it was only then he realised that his Captain's cryptic comment was meant to be a sign of sorts pointing to his most favourite means of communication with you, his most favourite person. The letter sat atop a number of document folders that had to be sorted out, but he'd figure those out later. 

"To Hoshina Soshiro-副隊長,

I suppose I'm still at headquarters by the time you find this letter. I remember you once told me that I could write to you whenever I could, whenever I wanted to, especially if there were things on my mind that I couldn't speak out loud. It's embarrassing having to write something like this, but I feel like I can be honest with you here.

It was only recently that I realised that Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro of the Third Division is perhaps the second most admired person in Tokyo. I say second because Captain Ashiro is still at the top of the list. Imagine that— your fiancé, one of the most admired persons in the city. The whole of Japan, even, now that I think about it. 

You always claimed to be nothing special, but I can confirm with you that it wasn't true at all when I heard those little girls prattling about impressing you. They speak about you like you're some monolith meant to be worshipped… and the worst part is I completely understand them. I, too, look up at you in awe of your silent strength and skill and still hope that you will turn my way— even though I know that your gaze rested solely on me and that your heart is mine, even from long, long ago. 

Truth be told, I can't handle the way other women speak about you. And it's beyond my control. You are just so amazing like that— And have you heard the way they talk about your body??? You've been objectified so many times now, I might as well burn down the base—

I know I must have been a brat this past week, but I promise you that my antics end now. Captain Ashiro scolded me in the bathroom sometime last week and told me to sort things out with you. She even said you must hand over my remaining brain cell because I clearly wasn't thinking straight these past few days. 

I apologise for being such an insufferable person. I hope we can talk once I return from Ariake. The Captain of the First Division requested a blade master for close-quarters training, so Captain Ashiro sent me, claiming I am the second best Tachikawa can offer. You are, of course, a knife she can't afford to lose. 

She also told me to beat up Captain Narumi in her stead, so there is that.

I'll bring back some Mont Blanc from that shop at Jiyugaoka. Let's have them with coffee and tea when I get back.

I love you dearly."

Soshiro was nothing but happy to see you back at Tachikawa a day later, the box of Mont Blanc you promised him nearly dropped in the process when he welcomed you back with a hug. He didn't let go despite your struggling and urging and whimpering at how embarrassing this was. 

How could he let you go when you were holding him just as tight in the first place? 

You both had barely set down your salutes when your Captain welcomed you into her office with a simple declaration, an order you couldn't refuse. 

"I need you two to go on a vacation for me."

✦ Thank you for requesting! Nothing makes me happier than writing a request I know I can work with. 🍹 You can read more about requesting here. (Requests are closed at present. Thanks for your kind understanding!)

[hxskzz]

IDK IF YOU DO HIM BUTT. Can you do a Perv!Angel Dust and an oblivious? (If that's the right word) female reader who doesn't understand his jokes or instead of Angel Dust it could be Vox I don't mind either! Also you should like totally add a part at the end where they finally get the reader into bed you don't have to do it ofc tho!

a/n: hii, im gonna do vox because doing angel with a fem!reader isnt rlly right since he's confirmed gay, but here you goo!

vox themed banner by @rubra-wav

"𝑰𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆"

vox x fem!reader

contents: kissing, flirty!vox, sex jokes, suggestiveness , mentions of sex

whenever vox was bored, he'd randomly make sex jokes about you or to you

but..you didn't understand them most of the time. took you a while to notice

one day in the vees' tower, you were brushing your teeth and getting ready for the day.

he came into the bathroom, grabbing a towel that he needed for the living room.

"morning love" he mumbled, still half tired from his slumber

"goodmorningg baby" you removed your toothbrush from your mouth to speak, then continuing to put it back in.

you began to brush your tongue, but the farther you brushed, you started to gag.

"you wouldn't be able to take mines that deep.." vox snickered, grabbing a towel and closing the cabinet.

you removed your toothbrush from your mouth, raising an eyebrow looking over at vox. "huh?"

vox smirked, coming over to you holding your chin.

you had a little line of white toothpaste rolling down the side of your mouth, as you looked at vox with a clueless look.

"I could replace this toothpaste with something else white of mine my dear.." he snickered, he enjoyed being flirty first thing in the morning

"vox what are you even talking abouttt?" you chuckled, licking the toothpaste that you felt on the side of your mouth.

vox's dirty mind couldn't help but imagine the toothpaste being this "something of his own"

vox laughed, kissing your cheek. "you're so clueless darling, its cute" he walked out of the bathroom, leaving you to think about what just happened.

later, you talked to velvette about what he said.

"oh darling you really are clueless- he was talking about sex"

your eyebrows raised and your eyes slightly widened as you froze. "he was?!?!"

"yepp" velvette chuckled, "he was referring to the toothbrush as his dick an the toothpaste as his cum" she spoke bluntly.

you were left speechless, not knowing whether you should go fulfill vox's requests or leave it alone for the rest of the day.

little do you know he'd been listening the whole time..

©hxskzz

[strwbnnie]

chileee what is up with me & angst 😭 I was able to salvage this from my notes so I thought why not post it lol probably my first and last aot piece cause idk how to write them fr 😭 & sorry to the Reiner loves cause I wrote him so mean 😭

cw: fat shaming, fat phobia, best friend Eren, ex-boyfriend Reiner, mention of cheating, verbal abuse, mention of k!lling, friends to lovers, one sided pining, sorry if I missed anything!

Word count is undetermined but it’s not that long.

❀

Eren hasn’t said a word to you since you arrived at his apartment, puffy eyed and soaking wet from the rain, just stepped out of the way and allowed you to walk in. 

You didn’t blame him, it’d been quite a while since the two of you had last spoken. Two or three weeks maybe, you couldn’t remember. It was difficult keeping track of time when your mind was slowly but surely shutting down. Either way it made you feel like shit. 

You wanted to to sit and talk to him but your first priority was getting out of those wet clothes. You went straight to his bedroom, closing yourself in the en-suite.

You let the shower run for a little bit, fogging up the room and hopefully drowning out your sorrow as you sit on the covered toilet, aimlessly scrolling. You checked the notifications on your phone, tapping around until you heard your ex-boyfriend’s voice projecting from the speakers. 

“Baby, just come back home. Please, let’s just talk about it.” “Hear me out, Y/N. I’m sorry okay, just come back.”

The way he was pleading you’d think he actually gave a damn about you.

“Come on Y/N,” There’s a short pause and a deep sigh. You know it’s coming. You hear the change in his tone, that false compassion and empathy has withered away. “Let’s face it, Y/N. Nobody’s gonna want you but me. Nobody’s into fat bitches. You’re lucky your face is cute. Nothing but a pretty face and a hole to fuck. Or should I say holes? I’m sure a slut like you takes it up the ass too-.”

Globs of hot tears ran down your face, budding at your chin and pooling on the screen of your phone. You deleted the nasty voice message Reiner left, only thirteen seconds into the minute and twelve second voice message, his harsh words breaking your heart all over again. 

The wound was still fresh and he did nothing but cut you deeper. Why was he like that???

Blocking his number so you wouldn’t receive anymore, you were ready to be done with this shit. Ready to heal from Reiner and all the bullshit he‘s put you through.

After your eyes are cried out and your skin is parched from the piping hot water, you finally exit. 

You didn’t leave with anything except your purse, phone and the clothes on your back, so you’re more than grateful to see a white tshirt and a towel on Eren’s bed waiting for you. The shirt was a little tight on your arms and the hem ended right at the cusp of your butt but it was better than nothing. 

The California King in his bedroom looked freshly made, plush and inviting, but you’d spent far too many nights alone in an empty bed while your so-called partner occupied another. You should’ve known that’s how it’d be when you decided to get yourself into a domesticated situationship with a narcissistic cheater.

You opted for the couch, where Eren was also sitting. He’s munching on a bowl of cereal watching some crime documentary. The atmosphere is dull, but it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be.

“Hey!”

He didn’t bother feigning the same excitement, sending nothing but a head nod you’re way but you’re still grateful to get something out of him.

Maybe he was annoyed, which he had every right to be. It was late as hell, around three in the morning, and you honestly felt a little bad. Showing up out of the blue and forcing him to share his space. 

“I really appreciate you letting me stay here, there were no rooms available anywhere.”

He ignored you, you figured he would. He hasn’t said much since you’ve been there. He’s treating you as if you’re a stranger, almost.

Unfortunately the documentary has lost all of his interest, he figured out the wife was the killer all along and there’s no reason to keep watching. 

Now he’s stretching out, manspreading if you will, with his legs cocked open. He’s sporting that same bored look, except now he’s on his phone watching TikTok’s with his volume obnoxiously loud.

Honestly, he didn’t even touch this app unless he was watching the shit ton of videos you sent him at some manic hour of the night. But right now he needed something to distract him. To distract him from everything only you made him feel.

“I get paid Friday, I can send you something once it’s deposited, my money lookin kinda funny right now so...” 

You’d spent close to your last getting an Uber to Eren’s. You weren’t sure why you even decided to come to Eren’s. Your parents lived in the same city and they probably would’ve been more welcoming than he was being right about now. 

“When have I ever asked you to pay me back for anything y/n?” 

His tone isn’t cold or mean, but indifferent. Like he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t. 

The tension is almost tangible, thick and suffocating.

“I know, but-“ You cut yourself off, stumbling over your words. Your throat is scratchy and your mouth dry. You didn’t know exactly what to say to mend things between you and your bestfriend. 

You hoped to pick up the pieces. Pickup where you left off like the two of y’all always did. But this here just showed how dumb and deluded you really were.

“I’m sorry…you were right.” You feel ashamed. Embarrassed even.

You can feel him staring at you, so you keep your eyes glued to your hands in your lap, twirling your thumbs in hopes to make amends. 

“What are you talking about, y/n?” You can feel his gaze boring into you.

“About Reiner…and every-everything else really. We not getting back together, forreal this time, I can’t.”

He was right about everything. Reiner was an immature asshole. You trusted his smooth talking, pretty smile and it backfired horrendously. 

Reiner was verbally abusive, insecure and mean, and he projected it without a care. Tore you down every chance he got, belittling you until you were almost an empty shell of your former self. 

On top of that, he was insensitive as hell, bullied you worse than any of those middle and high school nobodies you no longer remembered.

He’d probably use his last breath to lie, just because. If you were blind he’d tell you the sun was blue and the sky was yellow, for no reason whatsoever other than to be a dick. 

All of this Eren warned you about, but you just had to go and see for yourself. You fell for the first boy to show interest in you. The first to give you attention and affection. The first one who wasn’t looking to ‘try it out’ with a fat girl or looked at you like some pity case. 

So you thought. 

“You’ve said that before.”

“I know! But I mean it this time, and I’m so sorry for ghosting you and lying a-and putting him first before our friendship cause..I know you wouldn’t do that to me and I’m such an awful person-.”

Your sniffles turned into sobs, deep sobs that shook your entire body against his when he finally went against his stubborn ways and pulled you into a hug. 

You sound sincere, but Eren doesn’t know if he believes you. Hell it wouldn’t be the first time you lied to him about getting back with Reiner.

He wanted to tell you off. Scold you and yell at you for abandoning him. For giving him your ass to kiss cus you thought you were in love, only to come crawling back asking him to pick up the fucking pieces, again.

“I should’ve listened to you.”

Words muffled into his chest but he heard you. 

“You should’ve.” He doesn’t mean to sound condescending but it’s true. “I don’t like seeing you cry.” 

His voice startled you a little bit, velvety and deep, chest rumbling as he still had you pressed up against his frame. The aloof facade cracking with each sob. 

“I’ll handle it.”

He’d handle it. Handle him. 

His arms embraced you tighter. One holding you against him while the other ran down your back, over your thigh then back up again as he allowed you to bawl your eyes out.

“I hate when you talk like that Ren,” You leaned back to look at him. “You know I don’t like unnecessary viole-.” 

He grabs your face mid sentence, squishing your cheeks together, your lips round and pouty as you stared back at him. 

“How’s it unnecessary when my princess is sitting here with tears running down her pretty ass face?”

It slipped but he made no attempt to correct it.

His princess. He’d always called you a princess, especially when y’all were younger. He found it very intriguing how spoiled you were, especially by the men in your life. Dad, uncles, even Eren himself. 

He remembers saving up his little paychecks from working part time to spoil you as well, buying you little trinkets and gifts you probably didn’t even have anymore. 

Nothing was unnecessary when it came to his princess. He’d die for you. Kill for you, even. You were the light of his dim life. Why wouldn’t you just realize it?

[gamercats-fight]

[REDACTED] from Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective vs Judge from Off. Vote for your fav!!

Need help picking? Check down here!

[REDACTED] - CAPCOM - 2010 - Magic black cat:

-He is DEAD and has GHOST POWERS. He can TIME TRAVEL. He has a LOVING CAT DAD as his OWNER and the only family they have left is EACH OTHER. I would go into detail but that would involve spoiling the best mystery game ever written. You should play Ghost Trick. This stupid cat has not left my brain in months. He's haunting me. Which is fitting because he is a ghost. Did I mention he's a ghost cat what is cooler than a ghost cat.

-most special little guy in the world. hes HUGE spoilers for the game btw but um. yea <3

-Because [REDACTED] is the true Schroeder’s cat, he is both dead and alive at the same time and has really cool ghost powers. Also, he can’t read!

-If you haven’t played Ghost Trick, I tragically cannot tell you the spoilers, but this cat is sweet and determined and got a sad man through some rough times.

Judge - Unproductive Fun Time - 2008 - White cat:

-Idk his teeth fucked up tho “I am meowing at my lung’s fullest. I would even argue that the voice that reverberates back to me is the voice of someone I know… have you seen my dear brother?”

-adding some extra propaganda for the judge [non-spoiler]

-He speaks like you gave someone thesaurus for the first time ("Nevertheless, I will introduce myself. I am the Judge, and I am aching to know your name, dear elusory interlocator."

-in some parts of the game it can be read as him making fun of the batter ("Oh, so you can read?" - in response to the batter reading aloud the ad for cat food he was admiring)

-his real name is Pablo

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE ENTIRE GAME-- BE WARNED

-His only family is his brother, who he watched as a bird came out of his mouth and revealed his brother was long dead and the bird was puppeteering his corpse around. While you fight the bird the only thing he can say is calling out his brothers name.

-after you kill the bird he stays at the rooftop where it happened and calls out his brothers name (with real sad cat meows) and says the meowing at his lungs fullest line in the original post. he isnt seen again until the very end of the game

-At the end of the game he reappears to berate you (the player) for helping the batter kill eveyone else in the world, and you can choose to side with him and kill the batter. All his special attacks are named after neck, spine, and brain injurys (Anyurysm rupture, Staggering sclerosis, ect)

-with your help he can easily kill the batter with three of his special attacks.

-after you kill the batter he is seen roaming the now empty world, seeming being one of three(?) people left in existance

hes a silly guy basically thanks for coming to my ted talk

-

-ALSO The Judge was most likely the inspiration for SANS HIMSELF,

since undertale is highly inspired by OFF and both characters have a part in the game where they judge the players actions, and weigh their morality.

[rrenzwrld]

if you catch my drift…

in which you have a crush on mighty football player! reiner and sasha tries to help you out with it — might make it into a series idk 🤷🏽‍♀️

ik it’s been a few days, but i wanted to mix it up a bit by writing something about reiner <3 i hope you enjoy!

Reiner Braun was a fairly big guy, both inside and out. He used his strong and burly figure to be a part of the college football team and help out with his family’s construction business whenever her came home for the weekend. He had big hands, that he used to do those construction jobs and got frustrated with them when he had to use them to work on smaller projects in his life. And he also had big heart, which he used to allow people to take advantage of him once they got pass the intimidation of his size. And not to mention that he was absolutely gorgeous to look at.

The people that knew him would describe him as some kind of big teddy bear. He was scary to encounter just because of his towering height or the fact that he looked angry all the time, but if someone got him to laugh, smile, or fall in love, he was the absolute sweetest. You of all people knew that because he was in love with you. Because he was in love with you and all things you, you were the person he was most sweetest to. The only downside to his love was that you didn’t know about it, you just thought he was being nice to you as one of his friends.

“Girl take the hint, that man is in love with you!” Sasha tried to drill into your brain for the hundredth time this year. You wanted to believe it, you really did. You even had your own little mini fantasies about how it’d feel to be his but in your mind there was no way he was in love with you over some thin, prissy white girl. Besides, you never saw him look your way so you pretended not to look his way.

You rolled your eyes and continued typing way on your laptop. “I wish..” You mumbled. You did get a bit sad as you thought about it some more. As cool as it’d be to imagine being his girlfriend, going on dates, kissing him, hugging him, and other things, you didn’t think it’d be real life if that actually happened to you.

“I say you should try shooting your shot. What’s the worse that could happen?” You turned to her.

“I get my heart broken and give up on love forever. And besides, everyone knows that dating athletes is a bad idea anyways.” Sasha shakes her head in annoyance as you tried to justify your reasoning to not take a chance at getting with your dream guy.

“Well if you won’t do it, I will— look! there he goes now..” You thought Sasha was playing with you like normal but when you looked towards the entrance to the library, there he was. All handsome in his sweats and jacket. ‘He wore a beanie today’ you thought to yourself and your heart softened at the sight.

“Sasha, don’t do no stupid shit—“

“Too late. Reiner!” He didn’t hear her at first because he had headphones in but he took them off after Sasha yelled his name another four times.

“Oh my god..” You groaned as you tried to do the rest of your work and pretend to be completely unaware that Reiner was on his way to where you were.

“Hey, Reiner~” Sasha cooed and you mentally cringed in your head.

“Hey, um.. you need something?”

“Nope, just wanted to say hi. And I think Y/n wanted to say hi too. Say hi to Reiner, Y/n!” You looked up for a second and waved quickly before narrowing your eyes back down at your screen. He didn’t even have enough time to wave back.

“She seems.. busy.” A small frown crept onto his face but he hoped it wasn’t noticeable. He was kinda sad that you didn’t really seemed to be bothered with him right now, but he just blamed it on the fact that you were busy. So he figured he should just leave you alone.

“I’m gonna go… Bye, Sash.”

Sasha made sure he left for sure before speaking “That was your chance~!” She held onto your shoulders and shook them as she whined.

“Chance at what?” Your words were bumped over with each shake Sasha gave you.

“To talk to him at least!”

She stopped shaking you. “I do talk to him!”

“Yeah right! You two need to have a serious conversation. Like share your traumatic experiences or something to get closer.” You hated to admit it, but Sasha was right. You hadn’t talked to Reiner and when you did, it was always kinda awkward. He’d act weird around you so that’s why you thought that what Sasha was trying to imply was complete bullshit. But in her defense, you could be a little dense.

“Doubt that’ll work.”

“You two are gonna be together, trust.” Sasha declared as she gathered up her things and swung her bag over her shoulder. When Sasha wanted something to happen, best believe that she’ll find a way to make it happen and that’s what worried you.

[abiiors]

red lines - pt. 1 ║// matty healy x reader

a/n: i want you to read this very very carefully: i am pro-choice and i will always be pro-choice. and this is a work of fiction. also feel the need to add that this is more a collection of small vignettes??? ugh idk, hope you enjoy regardless cw: *deep breath* angst, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, mentions of vomit, (and other pregnancy symptoms), crying (so much of it my god) and arguments, mentions of smoking, illness, hospitals, panic attacks, reader has a good relationship with her mother so i guess that's a cw too, (most definitely inaccurate) descriptions of birth. wc: 4.6k

two red lines is all it takes to ruin a perfect life. 

two red lines repeated twice on two different tests that stare back at you from the counter—innocent and white and damning. the bathroom is utterly still, save for the tap dripping one drop every seven seconds. you would know, you counted it, used those seven seconds to ground you and stop you from spiraling into another panic attack for the three minutes it took to get those two red lines. 

pregnant. 

with two more weeks left on tour by matty’s side. 

gingerly you wrap them in toilet paper, make sure they’re safe and secure and nothing’s peeking out. you throw it in the bin, looking at it with a deadness on your face that you feel deep inside. then you call the reception and ask them to take out the trash. 

matty isn’t here. he’s on stage, serenading thousands of people who hang on to every single word he says, looking at him with all the love and adoration in the world. matty, your matty, who belongs as much to you as he does to the people, the fans. you should have been there too but there was the migraine and the nausea that wouldn’t go away. so you told him you would just sleep it off tonight. 

have an amazing night, babe. break a leg. and then a sweet kiss and a promise to see him tomorrow. 

and then the two red lines.

every time you blink you see them flash in front of you—like a promise or a warning. or maybe even a sentence. 

pregnant. 

a baby. 

a cause for happiness and celebration. 

and the conversation from a week ago that lingers in your mind, echoes inside your skull as if those words are the only ones you remember. 

i’m just not ready love, he says, not now. maybe not for another year or two. i don’t know, babies are a lot of work. and i am a lot of work. 

i love you, he says, kissing you deeply and tasting his own cum on your lips. i love you but a baby right now is a hard no. 

nothing in particular spurred this conversation really—just the two of you, naked, and tangled up in the sheets, his hand caressing your lower stomach and you letting yourself daydream. who knew the daydream was indeed reality? and now here you are, head in your hands—partly from the migraine, partly from the anxiety—waiting for him to be back. 

he will change his mind, you know it. matty loves you, and this baby is half you, half him. he will come around and you will be there to soothe his worries. you know he will hear the baby’s heartbeat and fall in love. 

you know he will treat them like the most precious thing in the whole world. 

the thought makes you smile and the door creaks open. 

“pregnant,” he looks at you warily, “what do you mean pregnant?”

the small smile on your face fades away. “pregnant with a baby, matty. what other kind of pregnant is there?”

you wonder if you meant to joke, if he will break character and laugh and everything will be okay again. maybe you just caught him by surprise, this is just a blip. in two more minutes, he will smile and drop down to his knees and kiss your still-flat stomach. he’ll say hello to them. tell them he loves them and then tell you how much he loves you, kissing you gently and pulling you into him. 

you can already feel his feather-light touch on your skin. his mouth lingering on your lower stomach on his way down. 

matty stills in place. 

“no…”

one word, it’s small and broken and so unlike him that you almost do a double-take. 

“what do you mean no?”

“i can’t okay?” his voice rises, “i told you i can’t!”

you can sense the agitation he feels, his hammering heartbeat and the shallowness of his breaths. his hands runs through his hair, spilling the curls everywhere. 

“you’re on the pill.” 

“i think…” you hedge, tears gathering in your eyes, “i think i missed a day.”

he snaps his head up to look at you. when matty first came back to the room, he looked happy and giddy—cheeks pink and hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat. now he looks grey and listless. like all the colour’s been zapped out of him. 

“you missed a day,” he repeats. 

“matty, please…”

but matty is already turning around and storming off to the balcony. through the glass you watch him light a cigarette with shaky hands, taking a deep drag before he tips his head back and blows it out. another drag, another blow. eyes closed. breathing that slowly goes from rapid to normal once again. 

five minutes later, only the stub remains and matty is back in the room. 

“i can’t,” he says firmly. “i told you i wasn’t ready.”

it sounds final. like a death knell. instictively your hand covers your stomach.

“i won’t,” you shake your head and the tears fall rapidly, first down your cheeks then your chin and onto your chest. “i won’t get rid of it.”

matty stares at you quietly, you stare back. it seems you’re at an impasse. 

twenty minutes later, you pack your bags. 

london is greyer than it has ever been, especially from your new flat so far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. not that you’ve had much time to get acquainted with the new area after being bent over the toilet for days on end, retching and heaving until there’s nothing left inside you. a hollowness so deep that no amount of food or water will fill it. 

so you eat strictly for the baby. pre-natal vitamins and supplements and a nutritious breakfast that you throw right back up. but you try. all for the sake of the tiny clump of cells dependent on you. the image of the two red lines has long been replaced with a grainy black and white rectangle. every time you close your eyes, you see the screen lit up with an image of your little bean, moving around. in some far back corner of your mind, you think they look happy.

at night you curl up on your cold bed, phone in hand, the baby’s heartbeat playing on repeat. it used to be his, your brain reminds you painfully. back when you slept all cuddled up with him. head on his chest, his soothing heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

you mother is worried about you. she calls at least thrice a day to make sure you ate every meal and took every pill. she comes every sunday to stock you fridge full of vegetables and fruits and make sure you have enough ginger and peppermint tea. sundays, begrudgingly, become your favourite. your mother, once again, becomes your best friend. 

but you can’t let her move in. can’t let her be a constant presence and drive you crazy and unearth him every chance she gets. so like clockwork, at 6 pm, you usher her out the door, tell her you need privacy and quiet and solitude. like every single time, she promises she’ll be back next sunday. 

and every single time she keeps her word.

one day you wake up to a change—a small one, really, but a change regardless. barely even noticeable at first. it’s your top that doesn’t reach all the way down. maybe it shrunk in the wash, you think. then the full length mirror reminds you of the reality. and the tiny little bump that’s seemingly grown overnight. 

your little bean. suddenly so real. so tangible. so present. 

“hello, little one,” you coo at your stomach, feeling a little silly at first. there’s no reply, of course, just the sounds of morning traffic coming in from the open window. but your eyes stay trained on the bump. “you weren’t so noticeable last night.”

nothing happens. no movement (of course, not. they’re too small for that.), no one appreciating the change with you. matty who should have been here to witness this…

matty who isn’t here to witness this. 

emotions swirl in your head so fast that it’s dizzying. this time there’s no tears falling one by one. there’s the sobs that come all of a sudden and the floodgates that open in the blink of an eye but he is not here to hold you or pull you into his chest when you gasp and gasp for a breath that never comes.

in a panic you dial the first number you can find in your contacts, gasping and yelling out broken sentences and panicking at whoever’s picked up. it’s 8 am on a wednesday, whoever you called must be utterly bewildered. yet when you can focus enough, you realise it’s a man’s voice replying. a familiar voice. shocked and equally panicked and asking you if you’re okay again and again. 

you pull the phone away from your ear and look at the screen. at adam’s name flashing on it. 

the first contact on your list. one starting with an a.

“fuck,” you mumble. “sorry, i’m okay. i’m fine.” and then you hang up, and rock yourself back and forth on the ground until your breaths resemble something normal. 

fifteen minutes later, there’s pounding at your front door and the bell rings incessantly. in your gut you know it’s adam. and it’s confirmed when his voice floats through the door. 

“open the door,” he urges. “i need to know you’re okay.” 

and so you pull yourself back up, harshly wipe away the tears and unlock the front door. 

it’s only been a month since you last saw adam but he looks different. his hair’s grown out, his dark circles are gone and in spite of the worried look on his face, he looks happier somehow. healthier. 

being back home with the love of your life and your baby will do that to you.

“you look well,” you croak out and then clear your throat. adam doesn’t take the bait. 

“do you need me to take you to the hospital? call your gp?” straight to the point as always. you smile at him fondly. 

“no, no i don’t. i’m okay, i promise.”

“you didn’t sound okay.”

“i meant to call my mum, adam. sorry i dialed the wrong number.”

“regardless,” he holds up a hand. “can you please talk to me. or talk to mat—”

“don’t.” the voice that comes out of you is stern. “he doesn’t want me or the baby. i will not let him talk me into an abortion.”

adam winces and rubs a hand over his face. perhaps that was harsh, you think, he’s not some evil villain. but none of it changes the outcome. in every single universe, you end up here—fresh off a panic attack in your living room, talking to your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. 

“how did you know where i live?”

at that he looks a bit sheepish. “i asked you mum. not today!” he reassures hastily when your eyes widen. “don’t worry. i asked her a few days ago. i wanted to… i’ve been meaning to check up on you.”

“and you couldn’t call?” you smile at him wryly. 

“no. i wanted to see you in person.”

“so you can report back to him?”

adam clicks his tongue and warmth fills your chest. he’s always been good to you, always been kind, and loved you like a little sister. you shouldn’t have cut him off like this. 

“no,” he says. “so i could make sure you were okay.”

it’s a small mercy that the morning sickness eases a few days after that as your bump continues to grow. more often than not, you find yourself with a hand on your stomach, drawing small circles on it and humming to it. lately, you’ve also noticed the little flutters that linger long after you stop humming. your baby responding to you. showing you they’re there. 

it’s not far before you approach the twenty week mark. the most important scan you’ll have throughout. you’ll find out the gender, you’ll find out if they’re healthy or not. 

and each time you think about it, it’s like the weight of the entire world is on your shoulders. 

the night before you contemplate calling your mum, nervous and panicked once again but it’s almost 11 pm. she would be deep asleep by now—she would be excited too. no need to put a damper on her mood. 

then you wonder if calling adam is a good idea. but you quickly scrap it. 

for the first time in months your finger hovers over the familiar name in your contacts. over the little heart that’s still next to his name that you never bothered to change. 

what will he say if you called him now? will he even pick up?

are you ready enough to brave it? 

the truth still remains. you want this baby, he doesn’t. the same impasse you were at months ago. if any of that had changed, he would have called you. he would have reached out… right?

so instead you do the second stupidest thing. you type up his name in google. 

your stomach churns with nausea or anxiety or just impending doom while the webpage loads—slow, too slow for your liking. or maybe time has simply slowed down and you’re too much of a coward to really face the consequences of your own action. 

the webpage loads. the frown on your face deepens. 

nothing. rather, the last article written about him specifically is from two days after the tour ended. everything after that is either recycled news, or some silly quiz about the band. nothing about him. no pap photos, no social media activity. absolutely nothing to indicate he’s even left his house in the last few months. 

you mind buzzes with all kinds of thoughts, swirls with wicked possibilities. you almost even text adam about it before the turning your phone off abruptly and chucking it to the other side of the bed. 

no more temptation. 

sleep is like a fickle friend—has been since the day you left the hotel room in tears. but you close your eyes and imagine your baby’s heart beating inside you in sync with yours. tomorrow, there will be a new recording to replace the older one. hopefully one that’s stronger. calmer. 

when sleep drags you under around three in the morning, you dream of his hands—fingers gingerly touching your stomach, resting on all the spots that flutter with movement. gentle hands that massage your sore feet and work out the kinks in your back. 

hands that you might never feel on your skin ever again.

the doctor smiles coyly and slides an envelope to your mother. it’s a little hush-hush secret, one she insisted on and begged till you relented. the gender reveal isn’t huge or flashy but you know there’s a cake waiting for you at home along with a few friends and family. and for the first time in months, you let the excitement of it wash over you. 

the scan was perfect! and now you feel a bit bad for clutching your mum’s hand hard enough till she’d winced (even though she hid it quickly and smiled at you in encouragement). so now here you are, thanking the doctor and practically skipping out the room with your mum laughing in tow. 

she looks lighter too, you realise, much more carefree as she gushes about her precious grandbaby and how excited she is to meet them. 

“we have to buy onesies!” she squeals getting behind the wheel and you laugh.

“we will, mum, but they’re going to grow out of it in weeks so you can’t go crazy, okay?”

she dismisses this with a wave and a pfft and you can already imagine the mountain of clothes she’s going to buy over the next twenty weeks. 

you nod off to the sound of your mum excitedly making plans for an elaborate baby shower, one that you’ll have to beg her to tone down, but her voice fades away soon. instead, you dream of him. your subconscious wonders what he would have been like today—maybe he’d cry out of excitement or being overwhelmed, maybe he would smile so wide his cheeks hurt. in some parallel universe the two of you would be in the baby aisle—hand in hand and cooing over tiny onesies. 

in this universe, you jerk out of the daydream just as your mum parks in the driveway. 

your friends and family don’t yell “surprise”, much to your relief. there are many hugs and congratulations. tears of happiness and jokes and then a delicious vanilla cake brought in front of you. 

everyone waits eagerly. no one brings him up. not even you, as you sink the knife into it and cut a slice. 

it’s pink. a gorgeous, pale pink. it’s a girl. 

everyone cheers. your mum hugs you and you sniffle into her shoulder while laughing giddiy. a girl, your baby girl. 

right then you know what you’re going to call her—you don’t need baby name lists on google or a hundred suggestions from your mother. you already know her name. 

mia.

mine and mine alone.

blink and twenty weeks go down to fifteen and ten and then five. each day it seems like you only get bigger and bigger, impossibly so. your life is filled to the brim with baby stuff, inside and out. everywhere you look there’s either a pram or a crib or pregnancy books. every time you get one spare minute you’re reminded of the back aches and sore feet. the constant hunger that just does not seem to go away no matter how much you eat.

your mothers visits increase from only sundays to whole weekends to three days a week. 

at first you protest—fuelled by hunger and hormones and mood swings. fuelled by the rage of a thousand burning stars as you stomp into the living room where she’s folding yet another batch of baby socks and blankets. 

“you’re suffocating me!” you snap, already on the brink of tears while she looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. 

“baby—”

“no! mum,” a deep breath and a few stray tears, “i’m not a baby. i’m having a baby for fucks sake.”

“language!” she scolds.

“stop it, just, please!” there’s not much you can do but stomp your foot like a petulant child. proving her point most likely. “stop acting like i need to be coddled and protected. just. stop!”

your mum looks speechless, too stunned to speak but the ball is rolling and now you cannot stop. 

“i don’t need you here. i don’t need you acting like i would crumble and wither away without you. i don’t need you and i certainly don’t need him—fuck!” you gasp for a breath, choking mid-sentence. 

the second those words spill out of you, you want to take them back but it’s too late. her eyes are already red-rimmed and glossy. one tear rolls down her cheek and that’s all it takes for you to break down completely. 

“fuck!” you repeat. “i’m sorry, mum. i’m so sorry.” that’s the only thing you can chant until she chucks the clothes aside and wraps her arms around you, shushing you the best she can through her own tears. 

for the first time in eight months you wonder about what if. and for the first time in eight months, you think about his words from that night. 

maybe not for another year or two.

you’re closer now to the one year mark that you’re to that night. mia kicks your insides again—her own version of support or maybe it’s her doling out punishment for never introducing her to her dad. either way, it’s not helping. all it does is spread pain throughout your lower body as you hold onto your mum, rocking back and forth. 

“it’s alright, sweetheart,” you mum whispers gently, kissing the crown of your head and cradling you like she used to when you were a kid. it makes your emotions worse. increases the ache tenfold. 

“i miss him, mum,” you admit finally, in a voice so small that you might as well not have spoken. but she hears it anyway. she hears it but doesn’t interrupt. she lets you speak. 

“every single day i wonder if he even gives a shit. or if he regrets leaving me, leaving us. i speak to adam and carly and i wonder if they ever tell him about me. i wonder if he even cares…”

you gulp down air, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your jumper and cuddling into her further. 

“and after everything. i miss him more than anything in this world.”

there it is. the truth, finally out there, finally spilled after months of pretending to be cold and callous. you wait for her to speak, to say something that will dull the pain and release you from this torment but she never gets the chance. 

because that is the moment your daughter decides to make her grand entrance.

it’s pain like you’ve never felt before. 

pain and panic and unadulterated fear. she’s not supposed to be here yet. you’re only 35 weeks pregnant—nowhere near full term. what if this affects her negatively. you blame and blame—first yourself; you must have done something wrong, right? ate something wrong or not taken the right vitamins or slept the wrong fucking way. then you blame matty. if he was here, you would have never been this stressed and unhappy in the first place. everything would have been smooth-sailing. 

and yet a small part of you yearns for him to be here. to brush your sweaty hair away from your forehead instead of your mother as the doctor yells at you to push. 

it’s all too much, all too soon. this is not how it’s supposed to be. this is not how any of this is supposed to be. 

the machines around you beep in a rhythm that’s all worng—it’s too loud and erratic and out of sync with the rest of the world. surely, that’s not how fast your heart’s beating. maybe the beeping is something else you’re unaware of. and yet your body feels hot and cold at the same time. too weak to move but pushing and contracting and tearing you apart from the inside. you’re vaguely aware of the screams that tear out of you, of gripping your mum’s hand so tightly that you worry, you’ve bruised it. 

but she’s strong, stronger than you’ll ever be. she endures and passes along some of that strength to you. 

“one more big push,” the doctor encourages. she’s a kind, middle-aged woman. probably someone who’s brought many babies into this world. she knows what she’s doing. but your body won’t cooperate. 

all you feel is a bone deep exhaustion that tries to drag you under as your mother taps your cheek. 

“a big push, baby,” she repeats. “one big push and her shoulders will be out.”

and that would almost be the end of it, right? so you nod with whatever’s left in you and breathe the way they taught you in birthing classes. 

and that’s how it goes. inhale. hold. exhale. gather strength. push. all of it done to a constant stream of rather futile encouragements. until you feel like you’re bursting at the seams and coming undone. about to unravel any moment. 

but then a tiny cry echoes around the room and the world comes to a standstill.

mia’s arrival changes everything in the blink of an eye. 

you have no time left for self-pity; every waking moment is occupied with feedings and nappy changes and laundry. you sleep when she sleeps, you hold her close every chance you get. you sing her and cradle her and shower her with enough affection for two people. she has you and your mum. she doesn’t need anyone else. 

slowly you let other friends and family visit—extremely selective and protective about who gets the priviledge but one afternoon when adam messages you know you can’t deny that to him. even when you’ve tried to keep him, and all of them by entension, at bay. 

in another universe, she would have been his goddaughter. you’re sure of it. 

so you let him and carly and their son visit, let them hold her and gush over her. carly instantly falls in love with her, cradling her close and trying to make her smile even though she’s just woken up. mia babbles at her and grabs her shiny necklace. 

you watch them transfixed, giggling at carly’s squeals and coos until adam asks if he could speak to you alone. 

“i don’t want to step over a boundary,” he starts and you know what’s coming but you let him continue. “have you thought about letting him know? that she’s already here…”

“i…” in all honesty, you had wondered if you should call him and let him know. but what if he still doesn’t care. “i didn’t. i couldn’t.”

adam’s face softens. “he’s back in london, you know? you could. you could try.”

that piques your interest. you hadn’t knows he’d left in the first place. “he’s back?”

adam takes a deep breath, eyes darting slightly and lingering on his wife as if he’s trying to steel himself. as if he has some news he’d rather not share. in the end however, maybe he chooses not to.

“yes, he’s back,” he says, trying and failing not to sound cagey. “he wasn’t until now. but if you would talk to him… just, i think you should talk to him.”

for the rest of their visit, his words linger in your mind. they stay even after the hanns leaving, promising another visit whenever you’re free next and you tell them they’re welcome any time. this time, you even mean it from the bottom of your heart.

but adam’s words come back to haunt you day after day as mia continues to grow. day after day you watch her learn about new things and figure out new stuff around her.

matty should be here. if not for him then for her. and once again you wonder about calling him.

one last chance. if he ignores this then he loses the right to his daughter forever.

so one tuesday morning, you gather the courage. you strap your baby to your chest and go downstairs to make some pancakes.

“after breakfast, darling,” you tell her, even though those words aren’t meant for her. “after breakfast we’ll call him again. maybe he will pick up. maybe he won’t.”

mia babbles when you kiss her head and flip a pancake, ignoring the worry that settles in the pit of your stomach. you’re so focused on the task at hand (rather, at ignoring the thoughts of impending doom) that you almost miss the doorbell that rings once and then again.

so focused that you have to scramble to wash your hands and rush to the door. maybe it’s your mum again, even though she wasn’t supposed to come today. it won’t be her first surprise visit, though. she misses her granddaughter far too much for that.

in a hurry you open the door, without even thinking about it twice. without even bothering to unstrap your daughter from your chest.

matty’s familiar face comes into view and for the second time in three months, the world comes to a standstill.

lemme know what you think <33

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[preciouslandmermaid]

🕸🕷 Free Fall 🕸🕷

Pairing: Insomniac Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Fem!Reader (code name: “Huntress” + she is Kraven's daughter)

Rating: T (there are mentions to Kraven's abuse toward his children, but nothing described.)

Prompt: It was strange to touch each other without one of them dying, but maybe touch was also something for the living.

This is a drabble for the enemies-to-lovers fic that I haven’t written (and idk if I will write it). This takes place after the events of Spider-Man 2.

tags: angst, pov second person, no use of Y/N, no hurt/some comfort, unhinged fmc lmao

🕷🕷 ( read on ao3 ) 🕷🕷

New York City :: 4:25AM

Your legs dangle from the edge of the building, but the height doesn’t terrify you—never has, never could—not with Kraven as your father. Your necklace emanates a soft click-click-clack as the wind knocks its animal teeth together. For each kill, your father once said, take a trophy with you. Their coat, their teeth, their claws and wear it with pride, Huntress. You press your thumb into the tip of the largest canine tooth.

You think, what’s the point of collecting a trophy when I have no one to share the victory with?

Lower Manhattan sleeps fitfully below you. Three police cars, one ambulance, and groups of tiny black dots like fleas jumping on the back of a tremendous gray-skinned beast. You wonder where the fleas are going. Home? Work? To their lovers and friends? Something akin to loneliness bites at your heels and you stubbornly kick it away.

How can you be lonely in a city of millions? You twirl the canine tooth in your grip. Snow flurries drift through the sky like dandruff and the crystallized air scraping through your nasal cavities reminds you of home. Or whatever you could call a ‘home’. Kraven had home-bases, with all the luxury and technology money could afford, but they forever lacked warmth.

I should leave this city, the traffic lights below switch to red and a car screeches to a stop, I should leave…

An influx of cold air hits your spine followed by the sound of someone’s feet touching the rooftop.

“Hey, this doesn’t look like Barcelona,” Spider-Man says casually.

He’s referring to your last conversation---“there’s nothing left for me here. I’m relocating.” When Spider-Man asked where, you said “Barcelona, obviously.”Granted, your tone wasn’t as cauterizing as you wanted. You were bleeding out thanks to the Symbiote that speared you through the collarbone and it’s difficult to be snarky when your vision is doubled and your brain is on fire.

“Plane’s delayed,” you toss the words over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. The sun hasn’t risen and all the artificial light reflecting from skyscraper windows paints Spider-Man in an interesting arrangement of shadowy grays and muted red. You recall the not-so-distant time when you hunted him. All the tricks you played, all the injuries you gave each other, and you have nothing to show for it.

You release the tooth from between your fingers and it knocks against the others. What trophy would I take from the spider anyway? You return your focus to the fleas and machines between the gap in your feet. A piece of his suit, perhaps. You search within for the rage, the anger that typically fueled you, the desire to hunt that Kraven taught you—instilled in you—through his cruel voice and crueler hands.

Yet, no rage comes to greet you with its fiery white-hot grip. You find stark emptiness akin to the featureless skyscrapers that cage around you.

“Seriously,” he leaps onto the ledge beside you, “there is a place for you in New York, I mean, you’ve met Tombstone, and Martin Li, you could help at FEAST or--” he makes a plaintive gesture with his hand, “there’s other places for you.”

You clench your jaw and create a low ‘hmm’ sound with the back of your throat. His eyes burn into your cheek. Why haven’t I left yet? You could’ve at any moment after Kraven’s death.

You had a complicated relationship with your father. On the one hand, you wanted him to find a worthy opponent and achieve his ‘warrior’s death’, but on the other hand—you wanted to be that warrior. You stayed in New York to kill Venom because he killed Kraven before you could. But then...well...that didn’t work out, now did it? Venom was dead. Kraven was dead. The vultures and crows were circling, circling, circling, and if you were smart then you’d get out before they started plucking out your eyes.

“You know anyone in need of a big game hunter?”

“You’re more than that.”

Your gaze slices toward Spider-Man. His lenses widen. You don’t say anything and let him stew in the uncomfortable silence. How dare he presume to know you? The gall of these heroes. You are what Kraven made you to be. A hunter. A killer. A panther stalking through humid forests, a polar bear staining its white fur red, a sharpened blade sinking between the ribs and puncturing a lung.

You recall the wheezing, rattled breath leaving Spider-Man’s lips. His blood on your hands, staining your palms crimson, drying rusty on your wrists. ‘Gotcha’ you had said before he kicked you in the chest with both feet and sent you into the wall. He was flexible and fast, you’d give him that. An almost worthy opponent.

A true worthy opponent would’ve killed you, you think.

“I saw your notes in Kraven’s study,” he says it quietly, like it’s a secret, and your shoulders bristle close to your ears.

“What about it?” You snap, annoyance corrodes your tone and hides the soft and vulnerable parts of you. My worthless notes. Saving no one. Healing nothing.

“Oncology isn’t an easy field of study,” if he’s trying to convince you of your goodness then he is destined to fail. Your motivations for studying tumors and cancer were inherently selfish. You were trying to save your father—as cruel, and mean, and abusive as he was—you tried to save him. That wasn’t virtue at work. It was fear.

You were afraid of a world without Kraven. A world without purpose, without something to prove, without something to overcome. Kraven never loved you—never could. But he gave you a reason to live, to fight, to thrive against all odds.

You wanted to kill him with your own hands and you wanted him alive. A paradox, you know, but your relationship to your parent’s was an unsolved Rubik's cube, a labyrinth of missed opportunities. You grew up in a home made of kerosene and lit matches. What do you say to a child who grew up breathing smoke? And how can you expect them to live in the clean, fresh-air? You catch a snowflake on your thumb.

“Those notes could help someone,” he continues, gesturing, his voice growing more animated the more he spoke, “I glanced at them and I’m not saying I’m an expert, but they were thorough and they were--”

you cut in, “useless.”

“I know a guy--”

“I’m sure you do, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

Spider-Man continues, unperturbed by your interruptions, “he’s continuing the Emily-May foundation on a much, much smaller scale. Maybe he could use the notes. Maybe it could help someone.”

“Or maybe it winds up in a drawer, or in a box somewhere, and is eaten by rats.”

Spider-Man huffs, “he doesn’t have rats!” A thoughtful pause, “at least, I don’t think so.”

“It’s New York,” you roll your eyes, “there are rats everywhere.”

The silence slips into the space between you, but it’s not uncomfortable or cold. It’s just there. Like the dusting of snowflakes coating the ledge. This is the longest you’ve ever spoken to him without trying to maul him. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, waiting for an attack, but his body language is relaxed. His elbows rest on his knees, his sinewy yet lanky arms, and supplicant bowed spine. You trace the curve of his throat with your eyes.

Kraven would tell you to strike. He’d say to take a tooth hanging from your necklace and ram it into his jugular. But Kraven is gone.

Why am I here?

Spider-Man stands, “can I show you something?” he extends his hand toward you and his long fingers curl slightly as they await your hand.

Your heartbeat is loud in your ears; loud, and hot, and claustrophobic and begging you to say ‘no’. Toss the spider from the ledge. Reassert your status as his enemy. Remind him of the blood you’ve spilled from his body. Reignite the animosity between you. It would be so simple. Like lighting a match in a house of gasoline.

But, you’re so tired of inhaling smoke.

Your hand slides into his. It’s solid and warm. His fingers encase yours and bring you close.

It’s strange to touch each other without one of you dying, but maybe touch is also something for the living.

“Hang on,” he mutters before the space between your bodies vanishes.

You dig your fingertips into the strong sinew of his shoulder as cold wind whistles through your ears. The skyscrapers and snowfall dim into smears of chrome and white, the noise of the city deafens, and you feel Spider-Man’s heartbeat against your own.

Your feet hit solid ground. The air tastes colder, thinner.

“Just in time,” Spider-Man says.

You open your eyes. You’re standing in a sea of roiling clouds. You look below, seeking the maze of streets and honking taxi cabs, but fluffy, blue-gray cotton greets you instead. You’re above it all. Above the constant noise, the mesmerizing traffic lights, and warm bagel shops, and kitschy tourist stalls. It’s dizzying.

A spark hits the horizon. An orange light, a tiny flame, and illuminates the clouds into a pastel landscape of pink hues. Your breath catches. Your fingertips tighten on his shoulders. The sun pushes from the clouds like a seed emerging from soil and the clouds ignite. You can’t feel the warmth of the sun, but you see it in every stroke of color, against every bulbous mound of cloud.

Spider-Man’s arm hasn’t left your waist.

Maybe touch isn’t meant to always be sharp and serrated and bloody.

“Give me your friend’s number,” you don’t turn your face away from the sunrise.

“Sure, yeah, of course,” his voice is warm, “no problem.”

A gentle orange and pink hue bleeds out; like sliced grape fruit, or a flock of flamingo feathers, or a painting done by a child with an enthusiasm for warm-tones.

“Does that – I mean – are you staying?”

“Hmm,” you step out of his embrace, “catch me and I’ll stay.”

His lenses widen, “w-what?”

You drop sideways into the cotton-candy colored clouds with laughter bubbling up from your throat.

You place one hand on the grappling hook at your waist—just in case.

He catches you.

And you stay.

[lexisecretaccx]

High School Sweethearts Pt. 2 - Chris Sturniolo

PT1, PT3, PT4, PT5, PT6, PT7, PT8, PT9, PT10, (rest of the parts on my Masterlist)

(Chris sturniolo x fem reader, slight mentions of attempted SA but no description dw, slight angst towards the end, idk what else)

A/n: I’m sorry y’all :)

I wake up the next morning feeling still startled from the dream that I had. “Get yourself together y/n.” I mutter as I get ready for the school day. I run down the stairs to my kitchen, my mother must have left for work already.

I grab a granola bar and a bottle of water and throw them into my bag, I head to school even though there’s an hour and a half till school starts and it’s a 20 minute walk from my house.

As I’m approaching the school I hear voices and the familiar sound of skateboards against the floor, I look down a path that leads to a skatepark and see quite a few boys, probably my age.

Curiosity takes over me and I walk down the path and sit on a bench just where the boys couldn’t see me. I turn my head to the side to see who it is and recognise one of the boys standing to the side of the ramps, it looks like Chris but slightly different, I’m guessing it’s one of his brothers.

He’s yelling to another boy who has his back to me as he’s balancing on a ramp, “Matt, get down from there you’re gonna fall, you don’t have a skateboard it’s not safe!” Matt.. that’s the other triplet if I remember. “Calm down Nick I know what I’m doing.” He laughs softly before he walks down the ramp and falls onto his ass.

Laughs erupt from Nick, and some other boys there as Matt just sits there in embarrassment, I would probably do the same. “Fuck you.” Matt flips them off before grabbing his bag and walking up the path next to me, I quickly turn my head and look down at my phone.

Matt walks past me slightly before he turns his head to me and quietly says “you didn’t see any of that did you?” His face is red and he looks so much like Chris, “uh no?” I say unconvincingly as I smile up at him. “Don’t lie, but don’t tell anyone that.. please?” He whispers and I nod.

He walks away and his pace quickens as I hear more footsteps coming from the skatepark, “Matt!” I turn my head to the boy and it’s Chris, his eyes dart to me, and he tilts his head smirking. “Stalking me y/n?” My face goes white as I shake my head rapidly “no, no I left early for school and I wanted to wait it out and then I saw your brother fall and..” Chris sits down next to me and laughs, “I was kidding.” He rolls his eyes in a joking way.

“Oh..” i chuckle softly, “Chris where the fuck are you we wanna skate!” A familiar voice rings through my head as I quickly turn to face the skatepark, Chris notices my stiff posture and asks “you okay?” I turn to him, his face plastered with confusion and concern.

“Uh that’s.. my ex boyfriend.” I mutter, Chris laughs abruptly before stopping himself, “Evan?” His tone makes me think that he can’t believe it. “Yeah.. I don’t want to talk about him, I should go..” I trail off, my eyes glued to Evan. “Why what did he do?” Chris’ voice quietens and he scoots closer to me.

“He tried to.. I don’t know why I’m telling you, you’re the one who’s friends with him what if you tell him?” I say as Chris shakes his head, “I’d never tell him, plus he’s friends with Matt, not me. I just skate with the kid because Matt asked me to.” Chris looks over to Evan and his friends who are now skating as usual.

“Fine, he tried stuff Chris. And when I said no he kept trying and then he broke up with me because I was a ‘pussy’.” I stand up, and Chris also stands up in front of me and grabs my arm “he did what?” He slightly yells, his face reddening in anger. “Chris please don’t do anything or mention this, please.” I practically beg him.

His jaw hardens and he sighs and let’s go of my arms, “fine, but it doesn’t mean I won’t hate the kid.” I smile softly at him, “thanks Chris, I’m gonna go to the library, cram in some studying for that maths test.” I start to walk away, “there’s a maths test?” Chris yells to me, I turn back and his eyes are wide as if to say ‘oh shit’. I laugh and nod before walking away.

Chris’ POV

Shit I forgot about the maths test, I walk back to the guys, still fucking pissed at what Evan tried to do, but I brush it off since I don’t want to upset y/n anymore. “Who were you talking to?” Evan calls over to me, I keep my composure calm as I shrug. “Was it a girl?” Nick teases, “do you have a girlfriend Chrissy Poo.” Nate jokes around as he grabs at my arm. I can’t help but feel annoyed at their pestering.

“Can we drop it? I don’t have a girlfriend.” I yell, fuelled with the anger towards Evan. I pull my arm out of Nate’s grip and pick up my board. “What the fuck is his problem.” Evan whispers to his other friend. “Fuck you Evan.” I shout before grabbing my bag off the floor. “Where are you going Chris?” Nick asks me calmly. “Anywhere away from here, I gotta study for my maths test.” I respond. “Since when do you study?” Nate laughs softly.

“Since I fucking feel like it okay?” I walk away. I feel guilt wash over me for yelling at Nick and Nate, but I just feel so fucking angry. I put my skateboard on the rack and walk into the school.

Y/n’s POV

I enter the library and notice Matt sitting at a table on his own, reading a book.

I sit down next to Matt who is still looking pretty embarrassed, his head flicks up to me, “what?” He asks coldly. “You okay after falling?” I reply to him as he scoots his chair slightly away from me so we weren’t so close. “Physically? Yeah. Mentally? Probably not gonna recover from it.” He laughs softly.

“It’s fine, once I fell off my chair in a class and everyone saw it and laughed, but now nobody mentions it anymore.” I reassure him, “yeah but how long ago did that happen?” He tilts his head softly, “like 2 months ago,” I chuckle softly, “and it’s okay because at least your friends saw it instead of a bunch of people you don’t know or like.” I smile at him, “yeah I guess you’re right.” Matt looks at the book that I put down infront of me.

“Maths test?” He asks. “Oh yeah, I’m in Chris’ class.” I grab my pen and start to scribble on my page, “you know you aren’t writing anything of importance.. right?” Matt half jokes and starts to laugh softly, “yeah I’m just thinking..” I laugh back.

“I’m pretty shitty at Math but I think that answer is 300.” Matt leans over me to point at the book I’m studying from. “I can tell your shitty at it because that is far from the correct answer.” We both start to laugh before the library door swings open and I lock eyes with Chris.

I smile at him but his face drops and he looks between me and Matt. Matts arm moves from off of my book and he smiles at Chris. Chris turns around and walks out of the library. “Sorry I’m gonna go see if he’s okay.” I stand up and pack my stuff into my bag. “Okay,” Matt smiles, “good luck on your test, whenever it is.” I smile back at him. “Thanks.”

I walk out of the library and see Chris walking down the hallway. “Chris!” I yell so he can hear me, he ignores me. I run to catch up to him “hey” I smile at him, his face remains stern. “You okay?” I ask him nicely, not understanding why he’s being like this.

“Of course I’m not.” He replies.

A/n: sorry sorry sorry, also btw y/n has no interest in Matt like that so im not switching up the storyline lol. I love u guys tho but soon u will get ur fluff and other.. stuff ;)

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @cind2224 @annelouise321 @sturniolosmind wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all that happens sometimes which is annoying..

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[kumezyzo]

hear me out, now we’ve seen jealpus sapnap i would love to read about reader being jealous ( maybe just someone flirted with him at a party or an event and keeps looking over at him)😭

this is such a funny idea to me idk why 😭😭 also happening to be a really old ask.... suggestive content and drinking mentioned

anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list

bf!sapnap who invited you to a frat party his old friends from college were hosting. they were very surprised to see how much he had changed and that he had gotten into a relationship.

bf!sapnap who will stand with you in front of him. he would have his arms wrapped around your midsection and rest his chin on your shoulder, all while catching up with his friends.

bf!sapnap who would have you leaning against a counter in the kitchen, his hands on the counter either side of you. he has you trapped against the counter, his legs separated just enough to have you stand between them. hes right at your eye level, whispering to you about how he just wants to leave.

"i thought you wanted to talk to your friends?" you whisper back as you feel his breath hit your lips. "we're here cause you wanted to be here."

he sighs, and his green eyes over your face, taking in the sight. "yeah, but im kinda over it now." his voice dropping from a whisper to breathy

you scoff playfully as you roll your eyes. you smile, amused by his very expected switch-up. his own expression matches yours subconsciously.

"why am i not surprised?" you ask him, causing him to shrug. "how about we wait just a little bit longer. maybe another... thirty minutes?" you ask, checking the time on your phone before shoving it back in your pocket.

"twenty-five?" he suggests, slightly tilting his head like a puppy.

"thirty," you say with finality. you push him away softly and shake your empty red solo cup. "im gonna get a refill. you want anything?"

"white claw," he says simply as you nod and walk outside to where all the drinks were set up on a white foldable table.

bf!sapnap who, instead of talking to his old buddies like you told him to, scrolled on his phone right where you left him. he tried to make it clear to everyone that he was not open to having a conversation.

bf!sapnap who was very happy to see you coming back inside after a random girl came up to talk to him.

bf!sapnap who kinda wished you were more hostile when you saw the girl.

you walked up to your boyfriend with a weird look on your face. he had looked at you pleadingly as soon as he saw you. infront of him was a shorter girl in a pretty black sequin dress with platinum blonde hair.

"hey, yn," he said in complete reflief. the girl turned to look at you and you smiled kindly at her, handing your boyfriend his alcoholic seltzer.

"hey, whats up?" you ask to no one in particular.

"hi! I'm amelia!" the blonde introduced herself enthusiastically.

"hi..." you said, your confusion growing when she didn't introduce herself further. "uh, how do you know nick?"

"oh, no, i dont," she said her smile also growing confused. "uh... im sorry im really confused right now." she laughed nervously.

"i am too," you laughed the same way, looking at your boyfriend and shaking your head for him to explain.

"im sorry, are you two dating?" amelia asked. her eyes widened in horror and embarrassment when you nodded. "shit im so sorry! i just thought he was really hot, and my friends said i should try to shoot my shot. im so, so sorry!"

"oh my god, no, dont worry about it," you say in understanding. you watched as her face starts to burn bright red.

"okay, im gonna leave... im so sorry, again!" she said, turning around, presumably heading back to her friends.

you turn to your boyfriend slowly, looking at him with wide questioning eyes. "you didnt tell her you were in a relationship?"

bf!sapnap who just kisses you because he's too overwhelmed and embarrassed to answer your question.

when you pull away, he looks at you sheepishly. "she caught me off guard,"

"uhuh," you say, leaning in to kiss him again. you set your cup on the counter to free up your hands so you can then hold his face gently. he sets down his white claw as well, not breaking the kiss to place his hands on your waist.

bf!sapnap who decides that you starting a makeout session in the middle of a party would scare off anyone else who wanted to talk to either of you.

but the more bf!sapnap thinks about it, the more it seems a little out of character. and right before the kiss breaks naturally, he realizes why.

"you're jealous," he says dreamily with hooded eyes when you two pull away.

you roll your eyes and shake your head, "i dont know what you're talking about."

"oh, yeah, you do," he says smugly, following your eye line when you try to avoid his eye contact. "youre jealous."

"and you probably have a boner right now," you shoot back, reaching behind him to grab your drink.

"yea, i do," you look at him with wide eyes as he continues. "but i will at least admit it. cause you're hot... especially when you're jealous."

bf!sapnap who drags you out of the party very soon after that but not without his friends noticing.

"nick! leaving so soon?" one of his friends yells when they notice you two heading for the front door.

"yeah, man, im kinda tryna get laid," he says, earning a slap to the arm from you. his friends all collectively laugh and whoop.

"alright, man, do what you gotta do," he says, shooting you a wink but not without saying, "dont go too hard on him."

"yea, go easy on 'em," another one chimes in, to your amusement. "he was a virgin for like-"

"okay we're leaving!"

i guess reader wasnt too jealous here. but this was lowkey so fun to write 😭😭 -nony

[k4marina]

the night we met || b.w || prologue

synopsis : who knew one night would change both of your lives

warnings : idk, spelling, vigilante, mentions of drugs, trafficking, rapists, murders, and general crime

brucewayne x fem!reader

a/n ; follows no specific plot line other than that bruce has been batman for a few years now. also, readers suit is this :)

batman slowly enters the apartment building's 6th floor through one of its balconies. using one of his many gadgets he sweeps through the rooms getting closer to the main room.

for the past three weeks both the falcone family and oswald cobblepot, or the penguin, had been moving suspiciously. well, more than usual. so much that commissioner gordon had personally asked the vigilante to find out what had been going on.

so far, a week later, all he'd found out is that falcone had been using the iceberg lounge to smuggle drugs. from where? who knows. to who? who knows. surprisingly, they had all kept it very tight and under wraps.

it wasn't until two days ago where batman had found a person involved in the whole ring and had valuable evidence. now, batman was creeping up to his apartment. he reaches back to his utility belt to pull out a lock-pic only to stop, his eyes narrowing at the door clearly forced open.

instead he opts to grab a batarang instead and slowly pushes the door open, stepping into the dimly lit apartment.

living room? clear. kitchen? clear. bathroom? also clear. which left the bedroom. light poured out from under the bedroom door. there's no sound coming from behind it, which doesn't help his nerves. batman pushes the door open only to be met with the man laying on his back on the bed. his eyes are wide open, blankly staring up at the ceiling.

there's a few white lines of drugs on his nightstand as well as a dime bag half full, rolled up money, and a credit card. that paired with the man's chest no moving means that he'd overdosed.

batman's eyes gloss over the room. something's off. he couldn't tell what exactly, but he knew. in the corner of the room was an opened safe.

there. he creeped closer only to find it opened as well, the safe empty of its content.

"looking for this?"

batman whips around to where the closet was. there you stood, holding up an orange folder. his eyes scanned you. you didn't seem like a threat. you wore a black and grey bodysuit with white-silver highlights. the top of your face was covered by a mask and your hair let down.

"who are you?" he asks. another vigilante? or a mercenary? or did you work for falcone and were tying up lose ends?

"inescapable." you reply. batman frowns. what the hell does that mean?

"you're one of falcone's people," he says, accusingly.

you laugh in disbelief. "me? you really think i'd work for that scum? no, bat-boy, i'm like you. except i can take the finally plunge."

"you did this?" he says, referring to the dead man on the bed.

"well, not really," you shrug. "i didn't shove the cocaine down his nose, personally. but, i also didn't stop him." you could see batman slightly grimace when you said that, but you couldn't really care. "took some time for him to trust me, but hey," you hold up the folder, "it was worth it in the end."

"what are you going to do with it? sell it?"

"no, i've got enough money. i'm just going to look over it, make some notes and then hand it over to you and the boy's in blue."

"and when will that be?" there's an edge in his voice as batman get's irritated the more you play him.

"depending on how soon i leave, it should take too long." you hum.

"you really think i'm going to let you go with such important information?" batman crosses his arms over his chest. even through the tactical suit you could still see his bulging muscles.

"well it's not up to you really." you give a mischievous smile. "you see, our friend there was supposed to make a phone call to his criminal friends. now, because of his untimely death, he wasn't able to do that. so now, they're on their way here. and i am going to leave."

just as you finished your explanation the sound of a car engine could be heard outside. batman looks out the window. there, were two cars, all filled with mobsters, no doubt coming up here like you'd said.

batman looks back to you to say something but pauses when he sees that you're gone with the folder.

fucking hell.

---

by the time bruce makes it back to the batcave it's nearing 5 in the morning. alfred's there with a warm cup of tea, like always, and ready to treat any possible injuries. bruce steps out of the batmobile tumbler and removes the cowl.

"rough night, mater wayne?" the old man asks. he walks over, swapping the cowl for the cup of tea. bruce rolls his shoulder and takes a sip of the tea. it was a special blend that was to help his sore muscles and help his sleep easier.

"something like that." rather then heading towards the elevator, bruce walks over to the massive computer and sits down.

after you had left he had to deal with six mobsters by himself and then called over gordon hoping for some information, only to be left with more questions. though, he was given a name.

"inescapable?" alfred reads aloud. bruce presses enter and the watches as the computer tries to decipher the word.

"is this some code?"

bruce grunts, rolling his shoulders. "something like that." he takes a sip of the warm tea. "there was a women, at the apartment. she was wearing some sort of gear. looked handmade."

"another vigilante?" alfred muses.

"if she were another vigilante then she'd have been on our radar. it's like she just appeared out of thin air." bruce watches as the computer worked to find something. when it does, it shows a series of articles and photos.

"adrasteia was the goddess of "inevitable fate", representing "pressing necessity", and the inescapability of punishment." the first article read.

alfred slightly leans over, pointing at a certain part of the article and read aloud. "the name adrasteia can be understood as meaning "inescapable". there's your link."

bruce clicks off to another article, this time it was a news article. "adrasteia takes down new yorks biggest crime family. so she has experience."

"but the question is, what is she doing in gotham?" alfred hums.

as the two looked through more article, more and more information surfaced about you. you were a vigilante that fought crime in new york. it started off small, handling petty crime before moving up to taking down rapists and murders until you took down one of new yorks biggest crime families. after that, it seems that you vanished and reappeared in gotham.

another thing about you, that rubbed him the wrong way, was that you weren't afraid to kill if necessary. you went after everyone, and like your namesake, you were inescapable.

after a few hours of more research alfred finally had enough and dragged bruce back to his room.

"you can look over all of this after you've had your rest. the last thing we need is bruce yayne collapsing at one of his charity galas due to lack of sleep."

bruce begrudgingly agrees and heads to bed. despite the exhaustion taking over him, he couldn't help but think back to you and your encounter with him.

what's this? another bruce wayne fic? and it's a series? whaaa <3