#spider gang is alive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alastor-simp · 2 months

Text

Bon Appétit! - Alastor x Fem Chef Reader

❥Summary- You were a very popular chef when you were alive, talented in making any dish in any cuisine. You sadly died from unknown causes and ended up in Hell instead of Heaven. You happen to find the Hazbin Hotel and applied for a job there as a cook. Everyone loved your cooking, including a certain red haired demon.

❥Tags: female reader, fluff, chef reader, friends to potential lovers, alastor is bad with feelings, slight romance, hazbin hotel gang, reader is an amazing cook, alastor is a foodie

❥Notes: I had this story idea brewing in my head for a whole week and I needed to type it out. Hope you guys enjoy it :)

"Hum hum hum hum~♫" Your head was bopping to the catchy jazz radiating from the radio. Your hands were placed against a metal bowl, one holding it and the other mixing it. Your name was Y/N, and you were the chef/cook at the Hazbin Hotel. During the time when you were alive, your dishes were very popular. You weren't extremely well known across the world, but everyone in your town knew about you and craved what you created. Your family owned a small restaurant, that was opened to all the locals. It was a bit difficult in the beginning since you were self taught, but as you got older, your skills improved. Over time, you expanded to other cuisines, ranging from American, Spanish, Japanese, Korean, and European.

How you ended up in Hell was still mind-boggling. You remember closing up the restaurant, and heading back to your apartment, only to see a large bright light and then pure darkness. You woke up after that in a very strange area, the sky was a pure blood red and the people around you seemed almost fictional. A large sign that said "Welcome to Hell" was a clear enough answer to where you were. Well there was no way for you to go back to the living world, so you had to just deal with it. Finding a job wasn't very easy especially since many of the places you saw, had very grotesque dishes, and you weren't skill with cooking eyeballs and beating hearts. You stopped at a wall covered with different flyers, some for killing services and job offers. The one that caught your eye was the very colorful one, decorated with stickers and glitter. "Hazbin Hotel huh?" That seemed like a good place to start, especially since hotels had guests and needed someone to provide meals. Smiling, you grabbed the flyer and began making your way to your destination.

Having arrived at the hotel, you were greeted by the owner, "Charlie Morningstar." She was ecstatic that you wanted to come and help at the hotel, giving you a crushing bear hug. She did ask about your skills and was very surprised when you said you were skilled in cooking. Dragging you inside, she allowed you to introduce yourself to the others. They were quite an odd bunch when you first saw them, but they seemed friendly. The demon holding Charlies hand was Vaggie. She seemed like a tough cookie, given how intense she was looking at you. Two other demons were sitting at the bar, chatting away. One appeared to be a spider like demon and the other was like a cat. The spider, who Charlie said was Angel Dust, gave you a flirtatious wink along with a hand shake, while the cat demon, Husk, just gave you a small wave. A small clattering of feet came from behind you, causing you to turn. You saw no one there, but then you felt something on top of your shoulder. Turning, you were face to face with a mini female demon with a large eye. She was gazing at you, wearing a huge smile, before she jumped off and ran back to where she came from. Charlie told you that was Niffty as she then introduced you to another patron of the hotel. He was a large black snack with pink eyes, wearing a grey suit and top hat. His face seemed nervous, but he had a kind expression. He gave a slight bow, while shaking your hand, telling you his name was "Sir Pentious"

Charlie kept looking around, wearing a confused expression. "Hey Vaggie, have you seen Alastor?" Vaggie responded with her head shaking no. A large black circle soon appeared next to Charlie, then began to form into a person. The darkness soon faded away from the person to reveal themselves. The demon was dressed in a striped red suit, that went well with his monocle and bow tie. His bob hair cut was a crimson red, and were those antlers on his head. His fangs seemed very sharp, given how well you could see them through his wide tooth smile. "Here I am, Charlie my dear!" His voice was etched with static, reminding you of the old radio you had at your restaurant. "AH! Alastor! Just in time! I wanted to introduce you to Y/N. She is looking to work as a cook here." She push you closer to him, making you stand a few feet from each other. "Hello, nice to meet you." Giving a kind smile, you extended your hand out for a shake. The smile on his face widen, as he bent down, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it. "Charmed!" His gesture gave you small tingles throughout your body. He then removed your hand and stood back to his full height. "So you are talented in the kitchen I presume?" Smiling more, you nodded your head. "Yes! I am self taught and I started working in my family restaurant at a young age."

Charlie then butted into the conversation, eyes sparkling. "Wow that's so amazing. What kind of food did you serve?" You twirled your hair with your finger. "Well it was the classic family restaurant, so club sandwiches, mac and cheese, homemade pies, the whole lot. But, I wanted to expand my skills, so I explored other cuisines to try and master." Angel Dust had gotten closer and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder, looking excited. "You any good with making Italian dishes toots?" Hehe it was cute how excited he was. You went over the list of all the cuisines you knew how to make, causing everyone's eyes to widen and mouths to drop, except Alastors, as he was still wearing a smile, but his eyes did expand a bit after listening to you. In a flash, you were pushed into the kitchen by everyone, faces adorned with wide smiles, waiting to see what you would make.

That felt like so long ago, as after amazing everyone's taste buds with your cooking, you were hired immediately on the spot. Realizing you were getting distracted from your thoughts of the past, you went back to cooking. Today you were making blueberry muffin cookies for everyone to enjoy.

youtube

(Love making these⬆️)

The batter was all set, and what you needed next was the blueberries. Heading to the fridge, you opened the wide door, looking for the small container. "Ahh found you." Finding the small container, you grabbed it, moving back to allow the fridge door to close. "Salutations, my dear!" a static voice spoke next to you, causing you to scream, as the container from your hand dropped to the ground, causing all the blueberries to spill out. "Al! Don't do that!" your response earned a laugh from Alastor. "HAHA! Apologies, my dear! Didn't mean to give you such a fright." He batted his eyes at you, trying to appear innocent, but you knew he was joking. "Yeah sure you didn't. Great now I'm out of blueberries since someone made me dropped them." Your legs bent down to the ground, grabbing the blueberries. Standing back up, you marched over to the trash bin and threw them away. A loud *SNAP* came from behind you, causing you to turn around. On the counter was a mini basket, containing fresh blueberries. "Oh thank you." Looking back at Alastor, you gave a thankful smile. "Your welcome, my dear! May I ask what type of concoction you are preparing?" He bent down, leaning against the counter, with his hands under his chin. Grabbing a few handfuls of blueberries, you went to the sink to give them a quick rinse, before coming back after patting them dry with a napkin. "Oh I'm making muffin cookies. Was craving something sweet so I decided to make a bunch for everyone. I'll save you a couple." You smiled up at Alastor, as you tossed the blueberries in the batter, and began to fold them in. Alastor grimaced slightly at that, and just wave his hand at you. "No need, my dear! I don't particularly care for sweets!" You nearly dropped your spatula at that. He didn't like sweets things?! You had made other baked goods and desserts in the past since you been here and you had assumed everyone had gave them a try and loved them, so it was a bit of a surprise when Alastor told you that he didn't like sweets. "How come?" Tilting your head at him, you waited for his response. Alastor raised his head, giving it some thought, before he looked back at you "Just don't like overly sweet things. I have a very limited palate, so I prefer to stick with that." His smile widen at you, sharpening at bit as he seemed to be thinking of something gruesome.

You continued to prepare the cookies, scooping them and placing them on a baking tray. A sudden thought came in your head, and you turned back to Al. "What sort of foods did you used to enjoy when you were alive?" Alastor raised an eyebrow at that. "My, a curious one aren't you? Well I grew up in the roaring 1920s in New Orleans, Louisiana. Oh, how I miss the sights and the bayous. I preferred venison and other meats, but I did indulge on other culinary dishes from time to time. Gumbo, Jambalaya, Po boys, oh my!" Alastor seemed almost in a trance, as he kept talking about his past. It was nice to see him so happy and excited, when discussing the time he was alive. "It sounds like you really enjoyed it." Alastor looked back at you, eyes holding a certain tender look. "Yes indeedy!" Your eyes remained locked on each other, until Alastors eyes glanced to the clock on the wall.

"Oh! Seems its time for my broadcast! Ta-ta, my dear!" Alastor gave his microphone stand a twirl, before disappearing into the shadows.Once he left, you couldn't stop thinking about what he told you, about his past life. The joyful look on his face kept replaying in your mind, when he was discussing the delicacies he enjoyed. "I want to see more of that expression" you thought. You continued to brainstorm, as you waited patiently for the cookies to be finished.

**Evening- Alastors POV**

"Ah! What a pleasant stroll that was!" Alastor had arrived back to the hotel, after just finishing his evening walk. He arrived back quite late, since the other denizens were not parading through the hotel lobby and lounge. Placing his hands behind his back, he headed in the direction that would lead him to his quarters. A pleasant smell was wafting through the air, stopping Al in his tracks. "My what a enticing aroma!" Alastor leaned his head back, taking in the amazing smell. His feet began making his way, searching for where the aroma was coming from. He had arrived in front of the kitchen doors, which were slightly opened and the lights still turned on. Peeking his head through the crack, he was surprised to see you in the kitchen still. Your air was tied up in a bun, while you were adorning kitchen apron. One of your hands was busy, stirring inside a large pot, while the other was adding in some seasonings. Alastor gave a small knock at the door, letting his presence be known. "Still cooking, my dear? It is way past your bedtime!" Turning your head, you flashed a large smile at Al. "Oh! You're here! Come sit, its almost ready!" Your crooked your finger at Al, telling him to come closer and take a seat near the kitchen table. Alastor cocked his head at you, still confused on what was going on. He soon took a seat, placing his hands on his lap. "Wanted to surprise you." He heard you say, as he watched you grab a bowl, pouring the concoction from the pot to the bowl. You saw you walk closer to him, placing the bowl down in front of him. Alastor's eyes widen at the site, before turning to look at you. "My dear, what is this by chance?" Smiling, you took a seat on the other side of the table. "Its seafood gumbo!

(Bowl in front of Alastor)

Alastor continued to gaze at you in shock, then back to the bowl , then back to you. "Did you stay up just to make this for me?" He saw your face flushed as you rubbed your neck. "I did yes! You appeared very happy when you told me what you liked to eat when you were alive, so I thought I would surprise you by making a Creole dish." Alastor continued to stare at you, his eyes going soft from how sweet the gesture was. The smell of the prawns and cajun spice was making his mouth water. "This is my first time making this, so I hope you like it." Alastor nearly jumped when he heard that. "My dear, you never cooked Cajun food before?" You shook your head no at him. "I always knew about Cajun cuisine, just never got to it. Now come on, hurry before it gets cold!" You gestured for him to start eating as you placed your hands under your chin, copying him. The smile on his face grew, as he looked back at the bowl in front of him.

**Your POV**

You were sweating like crazy. This was the first time you ever made gumbo, and now you were scared that you messed up. Last thing you wanted was Al to try it, then recoil in disgust. Your eyes watched him lift the spoon of the broth and place it in his mouth. His expression was unreadable, making you all the more nervous. As he took the spoon out from his mouth, you saw the gentle smile on his face. "Superb." He took another spoonful of the broth, placing it back in his mouth, letting out a pleasant mmm. Phew! you were glad he loved it. You continued to watch him eat, before getting up from the table and walking towards the oven. Alastor didn't even notice you leave, as he was too immersed in the dish in front of him. The savory taste of the broth and spice that kept flooding in was so nostalgic to him. Soon there was nothing left, and Alastor leaned back against the chair, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Absolutely amazing, my dear! Thank you." Alastor motioned his head to look at you, as he saw you removing something from the oven. "Your welcome! Hope you have some room for dessert?" Alastor gave a small grimace. "My dear, I told you before, I am not one for sweets!" Giggling, you placed what you had made on a bowl, before sprinkling some powder on them. "Are you sure? Something tells me these might change your mind."

Carrying a plate in front of you, you placed it on the table. Alastor eyes once again widen at the sight. In front of him was a plate filled with freshly made beignets, piping hot and covered in powdered sugar.

"Go on, try one." You stepped back and made your way back over to the chair. Alastor seemed a bit hesitant to try them, the feelings of his past and his dislike for sweets were battling with each other. Moving his hand slowly, he grabbed one of them from the plate, hovering it next to his mouth. Finally he took a bite. Alastors eyes enlarged again, as he took another huge bite of the beignet, before grabbing another one. Soon there were no more left on the plate, only crumbs remaining. "Ahhhhhh~. Delicious!" Alastor wore a peaceful expression on his face, as he leaned back against the chair. He then heard you break into fits of laughter. "What is funny, my dear?" He eyed you curiously, as you kept laughing hysterically. "Ahahahahaha! You...you have powder all over your face!" Your finger was pointed up at him, as you were trying to calm down from laughing so hard. Alastor jumped a bit, before rubbing his mouth with his finger, seeing a trace of white on it. "Here, I'll give you a napkin." Getting up, you went to grab him a napkin for coming back to him. "Thank you!", Smiling, he grabbed it and began to clean his face.

Once he was finished, he looked back at you. His eyes held so much emotion, as he continued to gaze at you. He got up slowly from the chair, standing up to his full height, as he pointed his head down towards you. Raising a hand, he placed it on your cheek. "Thank you again, my dear. But, why did you go through all this trouble to make this for me?" Raising one of your hands up, you placed it against the hand that was on your cheek. "I wanted to see that expression of yours again. You seemed such in high spirits when you talked to me about your past, so I wanted to make you something." Alastor chuckled down at you, finding your reasoning simply adorable. "You reminded me of something my dear mother use to tell me "A way to a mans heart is through his stomach."" Your whole face flushed at that, painting your cheeks a deep red. Alastor slowly inched closer to you, bending his head down closer. His lips had landed on your cheek, giving it a soft peck, before he pulled back slowly to gaze at you. "Thank you again, y/n." His body began to morph into blackness as he became one with his shadow, and then disappeared from you, leaving you a blushing mess.

Tag List:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345 , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 , @mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow , @madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel , @ainsliemac , @sweet06tart , @nobuharashinyao , @aria-tempest , @fluffismystaplefood

930 notes · View notes

deadsetobsessions · 2 months

Note

Just read your triplet Tim au and I loved it so much. Which Robin is the one who went on the Brucequest and lost his spleen?

Hi! The originator of the Triplet Tim AU is @batman-soup and I am a humble writer in awe of her ideas, but AHDJSJDHS I’m really glad you liked it!! I think Tim (actual Tim) would go on the brucequest mostly because the other two aren’t that invested in Bruce personally.

They do, however, believe Tim because they know him better than anyone.

Lionel goes with him, loses him at the desert, figures out where he is/what happened with detective skills, and breaks him+pru out. He also shaves Ra’s entire head and does the og Tim’s job of crippling Ra’s assassin forces. Tim recovers but while he’s doing that, he’s entertaining himself by getting rid of the League of Spiders or something. Pru is like there’s fucking two of you??

Archy stays behind and guilt trips the shit out of Dick, does damage control with their PR nightmare, calls reinforcements with red hood’s gang, and basically takes over Gotham. Also somehow he convinces the bats/the justice league that he’s alive. “B never gave up when you supposedly died, Uncle Clark, and you couldn’t do him the courtesy of even trying?”

They come back with 1 less spleen and evidence. Bruce lectures everyone for an hour for not listening to his Robin.

Dick apologizes to Tim (by acknowledging his wrong doings and how much he hurt Tim thanks to Archy coaching him for months) and Tim punches him, forgives him (because that’s one of his robins, yall) and they go out for ice cream. Lionel and Archy goes to town with Ra’s threats. Assassins vs. Red Hood’s gang + the Triplets.

Bruce: I shouldn’t have left…

Clark: it’s not your fault, our grief couldn’t be helped.

Bruce: no, who cares about that? My robins took over Gotham and that’s what I’ve been trying to prevent for years goddammit I have to do so much damage control

#batman #tim drake #triplet Tim au #bruce wayne #asks

151 notes · View notes

lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

Note

Matt and Peter trying to see who can fuck you better but they both fuck you so good that you become a babbling mess

i meshed two requests together, this one as well as matt and peter fucking villain! reader :)) i had a lotta fun with this one, enjoy!

VIGILANTE SHIT- P.B PARKER & MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: Peter! Matt! x Vigilante Black Cat! Reader (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings: SMUT, praise and degradation kink, mocking/ babying, petnames, teasing, swearing, mentions of blood/ violence (matt also bandages readers wound), bondage, dry humping, masturbation, breeding kink, man handling, overstim, fluff tho<33

"and i don't dress for villains, or for innocents.. i'm on my vigilante shit again. i don't start shit but i can tell you how it ends..."- vigilante shit, taylor swift

You had married the night.

It was your escape, your desires, your dreams. The stars were rings upon your fingers, the moon a shining spotlight through the clouds as you’d stalk your prey during the hunting hours.

You came alive in the darkness.

You felt like a burst of light, energy and power bursting through your veins. It was when you could take charge. When you could sneak up on people, make them fall to their knees and beg for salvation.

It was when you could get revenge on the people who deserved it most.

You had trained yourself to be a soldier. To have your guard up, to be alert and stealthy. The Black Cat, is what they had called you. You were quiet and flexible, getting in places the average person couldn't.

It was ideal for stealing.

“Stealing” things that didn't belong to the people who had stolen them in the first place. They didn't belong to the white, rich old men the prowled the upper parts of New York.

They didn't belong to the thugs and gangs in Hell's Kitchen either.

They belonged to you.

It was a waiting game, finding the right time to swoop in from your spot on the rooftops to scurry down and collect the goods. But it was one you were willing to play. You had played many games since your time on the streets in the twilight hours, like cat and mouse.

Matt Murdock and Peter Parker were crawling on you like spiders, and you had run into them more times than you could count. As fast as they appeared, you had fled.

They had no idea who you were, but you had made headlines. The thief in the night. The media didn't know anything. They liked to spin and twist lies for their own benefit, so that things would sell and people would become frightened.

What they didn't know- is that you only stole from people who deserved it.

Your own version of justice.

And right now, the men you were watching from the alleyway deserved it. You had been watching the Pirus gang now for days, hiding behind old warehouse containers and perching yourself upon balconies and ledges to spy upon them and their dirty deeds that made your own hands feel greasy with grime.

They had something that belonged to you. You had noted the 18k gold ring getting pocketed between them, a ring that had been gifted to your mother before she had passed.

You didn't care about the imaginary price tag that was attached to it, like these crooks did. You didn’t care you could sell it and easily make a hundred thousand dollars, waving goodbye to student debt and mortgage rates. You just cared that it was in a safe, and valuable place.

Tucked away in the little vintage jewelry box she had gifted you before she took her final breaths on that old, creaking bed.

A growl ripped through your throat as you saw them flip it up like a coin, hearing their mutters about ‘thank god the bitch is dead’. They were just a leap away. With a push, you could jump down upon the pavement, ripping them to shreds with your claws.

You had been patient enough, a clock ticking in your head with each second that had passed where the ring wasn't in your possession.

The ring was an easy target, and you shifted your weight stealthy to propel your body forward.

It was all coming together. It was easy.

Almost too easy.

As you guided yourself, eye on the prize- a sharp jerk yanked you back. The breath was stolen from your lungs, your scream muffled as a hand was placed across your mouth.

“Shhhh. Not a word.” the low voice murmured in your ear, his warm breath making the hairs on your neck rise with anxiety as you struggled against his chokehold grip he held on you against his large, solid body.

You were brought back in through the large warehouse window you had so stupidly turned your back on, too focused on the activities below to realize what was going on behind you.

Who was behind you, for that matter. You twisted your foot to step on his own, but he avoided it, clearly trained in combat as he fought back against your contained fight.

“Don’t make this harder for yourself sweetheart.” he growled, twisting you around to smash your body against the cold brick, the wind knocked out of you, too stunned to cry for help as he tossed you like a rag doll.

A black bandanna covered his eyes, toned body was hidden under the same black fabric, blood smeared across his cracked knuckles. You searched him for some recognition of who he was, but you were too dazed from the sudden assault, heartbeat racing too loud in your ears from adrenaline to think clearly enough.

“She's got fight in her man.” the mystery man smirked, as if you were a wild animal in a cage, desperate to get free.

Shivers broke out across your skin from under the leather as shocks went through your whole body, white, sticky webs clinging you to the wall like a mouse in a trap.

Then it clicked. Oh. Fuck.

“Oh you fuckers.”

A second body hung from the ceiling, emerging from the darkness into the dingy warehouse lighting, attached to a web as he waved at you from upside down.

“Well hello there!” he said cheerfully as if the three of you were all buddy-buddy and this was an everyday event.

“Was that a goddamn Star Wars reference?” you huffed, wanting to strangle the both of them.

“Yes. Maybe. Maybe yes.” He dropped from the ceiling, bouncing on his heels as he looked at you with interest through his mask, head tilted with curiosity.

“You need to slow your heartbeat. Calm down.” the masked man murmured lowly, listening to the increasing speed of its thumps as he neared you. It was then your vision cleared, and you could get a good look at them in the dimmed lighting.

Matt and Peter.

“I would be calm, if I wasn't webbed to a fucking wall right now.” you sang sweetly, making him smirk.

“It's for your own good.”

“Well technically, it’s for our own good because if she weren't bound she’d be clawing our faces off right now.” Peter noted, his voice fading in the distance as he found some random old chairs that were scattered in the corner.

“Peter’s right ya know.” you played along, the dragging of the chair's feet against the stone floor coming to an abrupt halt.

“You know my name?”

“Well duh. I’m not stupid, no matter how much you and Mr. Matthew over here may think I am.” You couldn't keep the sly smirk off your face, knowing you had them right where you wanted them.

You couldn't defeat them, and you knew the gang had most likely scrambled by now, along with your ring- but you could keep them talking.

“It's nice for us to finally be acquainted again.” Matt sighed, watching as Peter brought up the chair, plopping himself in one directly in front of you. As if you were a circus act, or the hottest new movie in the box office.

You huffed, not meeting his eyes as Peter curled his feet under him, sitting crisscross in the old, rusting chair. “What is this a therapy session?”

“Does it need to be? Tell me, my darling- how is your relationship with your father?” Peter asked mockingly, making you hiss out in response.

“Alright, alright enough. We just want to talk to you…”

“I’m not giving you my name.” you replied sharply, slightly struggling against the webs, having no luck of them weakening.

“How is that remotely fair?” Peter scoffed.

“Peter- enough. Fine, be that way. As I said, we just want to talk.” Matt exclaimed, cracking his knuckles as his head tilted to listen, surveying the nearby area with his ears.

“I think they left.” you murmured, and he nodded in response, mouth drawn into a hard line. “They left cause you scared them off with all your thrashing. Settle down woman, the webs won't break that easily.” Peter hinted, watching in amusement as you finally gave up, putting your head down in defeat.

“I hate you.” you murmured softly, quiet as a pin drop as you stared down at the cold concrete.

“Yeah, yeah tell us something we don't know.” Matt sighed, your eyes flickering back up to look at Peter, his legs still crossed in an almost childish manner as he leaned his head in his hands- appearing bored.

“Let's get this over and done with. What do you want to talk about?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

They were going to threaten you- obviously, or they'd try and talk you over with their magical words of wisdom, about how being ‘good’ was better than whatever the fuck you were doing. You didn’t care for it.

But you knew they wouldn't let you go until they said what they had to say.

You fought the urge to shiver, a cold breeze filtering through the broken windows, seething to chill your bones. Your nipples hardened, and you swore Matt’s head tilted slightly, a smirk dotting his face.

“You. Helping us.” Peter retorted, and before you could stop it, you laughed.

You laughed and laughed and laughed because what the fuck? That was the last thing you had expected them to say, his words seeming like an inside joke you weren’t involved with.

The cold had now disappeared, replaced with a warmth and bubbliness that pooled in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” was all you could gasp out, your sides hurting from the continuous laughter that poured out of you. You laughed partly because yes- it was funny, but also because you were confused and anxious. Not that they needed to know that of course.

“We need your help taking on Kingpin.”

There it was.

The laughter stopped. That name had left you scarred, your insides shriveling up at the whispers of memories that trickled through your brain.

“I don’t get involved with him.” you stated, voice hardened like cracked sugar. The air was sucked out of the room, and you saw fear and darkness slither across the brick.

“I know you don’t. That's why we’re now asking you to get involved with him, with us. We need another hand to play in his card game.”

“I don’t. Get. Involved.” you hissed, drawing out each symbol as if they were illiterate. Which they must have been. They must have been borderline stupid to think you would help them, with Kingpin nonetheless.

He was way out of your territory, and there were even lines you didn't cross once they were drawn.

“We’ll help you get your mother's things back.” Peter said cooly from his side of the room. Your head whipped towards him, eyes wide.

Maybe you didn't have the upper hand afterall.

“I don’t need your help.” Peter snorted, hand extending to the broken window, the one you had been perched out of a few minutes prior.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” he said sarcastically. “I had it under control, until you two showed up and ruined it.” you snarled.

“We saved you. They had multiple firearms on them, and you were severely outnumbered. The second you dropped, you would have been shot on the spot, too many bullets to stand a chance.” Matt replied to your outburst coolly. “But you wouldn't have known that, would you? They were tucked away, in their boots and under their jackets. Because if you did know, you would have been openly committing suicide, and that seems unlike you since theres jobs that still need to be done.”

You were silent. They had you in their webs. Quite literally, at that.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice.” Matt replied softly, his demeanor seeming to change. Almost as if... as if he felt bad for you. As if he could see right through you, could feel the pain and sorrow in your heart that ripped and clawed at you daily, could feel the loneliness and anguish that haunted you.

Maybe he didn't have many choices in his lifetime.

His words were nearly comforting, but you knew they were one-sided. You did have a choice, but if you didn’t accept their offer- things wouldn't turn out good. Not that they would working with them anyways.

But what ‘choice’ did you really have?

“Fine. When do we start?”

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

“It’s fucking cold.” you groaned, the air around you seeming brisker with each passing second. New York never seemed to be warm, the skin-tight suit plastered to you not helping the cause.

It was lightweight and stretchy, its fabric perfect for fighting and climbing- but it provided next to no warmth.

The sirens shrieked as they passed by under you, the city lights illuminating the two men next to you as you sat perched on the roof.

It had been a few weeks since the webbing incident, and you now waited- bored out of your mind for an instruction. It was unlike you to listen and not lead, but you wanted to see how the dice would roll.

You crouched low, the concrete block rough and bitter to the touch as you knelt at Peter’s level.

“It’s not cold. You’re just being a pussy.” Peter drawled, the wind whipping through his messy locks as he looked down, taking in the bustling traffic below.

The cars were all fancy here, all Porches and Bentleys on this side of town. It made you feel out of sorts, and uncomfortable in your skin.

“Did you just call me a pussy?”

“He meant it romantically.” Matt replied, your eyes meeting his sharp jawline as he sourced out the area from the other side of you.

“I did not.” he scoffed, a blush burning on his cheeks as he turned away, suddenly very interested with the stone ledge.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. When are we moving in?” you asked impatiently, rocking on the balls of your feet anxiously. It felt like you had been sitting up here forever, despite meeting them back near Hell's Kitchen over half an hour ago.

So in reality, you had really only been sitting here for a good twenty minutes. Yet, it dragged on.

Where was the action? The fighting? You were sick of waiting.

“Don’t even think of moving in without my signal.” Matt stated, sensing your anticipation as you sighed.

“What are we even waiting for?!”

“For them to take their fighting somewhere else.” Peter snorted, obviously as anxious to get going as you were, but it appeared he was more collected. He had been working with Matt a lot longer than you had, and you hoped to keep it that way.

You watched as Matt listened closely, obviously aware of the conversation that was appearing behind the glass in front of you. The two men were tall and build, almost double the size of you. Anger was written across their faces, buried in the creases of their foreheads as they yelled, hands frantically moving. Their black suits were wrinkled, blood dotting one's forehead as if a fight had occurred before this one.

You tilted your head, curious.

Were they not on the same side? Were they not both fighting for Fisk, defending him?

“They seem pretty angry for people who appear to be on the same side.” you hinted, trying to think of reasons they could possibly be so mad.

“You’d be surprised how competitive his men can get, when he's angry the way has been lately.” Peter stated, looking to Matt for instruction as a gun was cocked, hands going up in surrender.

“Should we intervene?”

Matt just shook his head.

“Let it play out.” was all he said. You despised how calm and collected he was about this. Part of you wanted him to be rash, so you could save him and yell at him for how stupid he was. But that wasn't his style, and you knew it never had been. He and Peter waited in the shadows, counting down the minutes until it was right to strike.

Suddenly another man appeared from the hallway, breaking up the fight. They left the room, and you felt your body instinctively moving forward, ready to leap, though you couldn’t reach.

“The documents Peter and I need are in the office across from that one, in a safe behind the painting behind the desks. All the offices look the same, it's an industrial office. You’re in charge of making sure no one comes up on this floor.”

“So what I’m on watch duty? You brought me along so I could protect you guys while you play capture the flag?” you scoffed. Seeing as to how they quite literally webbed you to a wall, asking for your help- you figured it’d be for something much cooler than this.

“For now.” was all he said, a tone in his voice indicating something else was on the table for a later date. “I don’t really have a choice in this.”

“You always have a choice.” he repeated, words echoing those at the warehouse.

“I’m going to fucking punch you.”

A laugh escaped Peter and he was quick to cover it with a slap to the mouth as he watched the stand down you had with Matt. Nothing was coming out of this, and you weren't expecting it to. But it was still fun to try and bother him anyways.

Nothing seemed to get under his skin, which irked you even more. He was the water to your fire, the voice of reasoning. Fuck his reasoning.

“Punch me and I’m telling you right now things will not end in your favor.” Matt snarled, hand grabbing your wrist as you raised it.

“I’ll take my chances.” you hissed back, hair raising on your arms like a cat’s from under your suit.

“Go.” he commanded sternly. “What?”

“Go. The floor is clear, for now. Peter’s taking you over.”

“Wha-” Before you could beg to differ, confused about what the man meant, you felt an arm wrap around your middle. Matt's grip released from your wrist, yet you could still feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the area where his fingers brushed you starting to tingle.

The wind rushed in your ears as Peter grabbed you, a web shooting from his wrist as he swung you off your feet. It took everything in you not to scream, the movement so quick and sudden you felt your lungs come out through your ribcage. You were soaring through the air, Peter's grip tightening on you as you watched the world blaze by in a blend of colours from under you, coming to a standstill as he stuck to the side of Fisks building.

You looked over to where you once were, finding it empty. Matt had already disappeared, not a whisper or a trace that he had ever been there remaining.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” you whispered, looking down and regretting it immensely.

“I thought you liked high places? Don’t all cats?”

“Not this high.” you whimpered, willing for him to pry open the window quicker than he was currently. Although you gave him credit, he was doing it one-handed after all.

“Just don’t look down. That's what I did before I got used to it.” he shrugged, and you clung to him tighter, breathing in the cologne he wore through his suit. It was nice, you realized, sort of hating yourself for liking it as much as you did.

All of a sudden the two of you were much too close, the air becoming hot and saccharine despite being almost twenty stories high, the wind whipping through your hair wildly.

He let out a small grunt as you heard the window click open, the glass freeing enough space for you to wedge your body through.

“This is the storage room, down the hall from the office we’ll be at. Stay close.” he instructed, and you scrambled to grip onto the window ledge. “And don't let yarn be a distraction.” he added teasingly, darting away before you could let out a sly remark in return.

“Asshole” you muttered to yourself, slowly and quietly shutting the window behind you. You had landed upon a shelf, filled with cleaning supplies. The smell of chemicals burned, your nose twitching with disgust as you took in your surroundings.

It was quiet in here, minus the gentle hum of the air vents. Dark as the night outside, you were stealthy and careful not to knock anything over as you leaped to the floor, the hard tile cold under your hands.

Mops, buckets, vacuums and brooms all were dotted against the walls, cleaning chemicals so advanced you didn't even know if you could pronounce them. Sometimes you forgot how much money this man really had. It seemed unimaginable.

Kingpin could probably buy the entire city if he wanted, in all honesty. You were rather confused why he hadn't yet, since that always seemed to be his endgame. Changing the city. Changing the way people lived, changing the way the economy ran to better suit his needs.

All this change that didn’t need to happen. He could change his shitty attitude, or even the paint colour in here. You thought with a sigh, dusting your hands off as you rose to your full height, on high alert as your hand reached for the door handle.

It was quiet outside. Too quiet.

You held your breath, feeling your lungs tighten as you slid beside the door. Your back was to the wall, heartbeat thumping in your chest as you heard a voice call from the end of the hallway, turning the corner.

Waiting wasn't something you were very good at, but you knew you had to time this right. The whole mission- and your life, depended on it. Just as his foot hit the hardwood in front of your hidden alcove, you swung the door open, arm reaching around his throat.

A meer gasp escaped him as you pounced on him, dragging him into the cleaning closet with you. His arm went back to hit you with his gun, but you had wrapped around him like a koala bear- his arms unable to you. His gun clattered to the ground as you kicked it, squeezing your arm around his airways even tighter as he fell back against a shelf.

You winced as the pain shot up your arm as he slammed you back against the wooden ledges, cleaning supplies rattling in the struggle.

“Can you pass out quieter?!” you hissed, feeling his grip lack as he slipped into unconsciousness. You jumped off of him as he thudded down to the ground, limbs spread out as his breathing steadied.

You sighed, dusting off your suit again with the quick bush of your hands. He had got dirt on you- the bastard. Grabbing underneath his armpits, you attempted to trudge the large, beefy man to sit against the shelf.

If he was going to be unconscious, he might as well ruin his posture in the process. It seemed like a fair trade, seeming as he almost pointed a gun at you and smacked your shoulders hard enough to see little black spots dot across your vision.

He would be out cold for a while, hopefully, long enough for your little boy scout duo to get their shit and scramble. You watched as he slouched over, proud of your handiwork. You were lucky he wasn't as large as the other guards you had seen, or else you weren't so sure your strategy would work.

Remembering you had a job to do, you slipped back over to the closed door, poking your head out slightly as you heard the ever so slight creak of a window close from the office down the hall.

Good. They got in.

You were scared to breathe, scared the rush of air whooshing through your trachea would set off some sort of alarm or trigger. It was like walking on pins and needles. The air seemed tighter here, stuffy as it weighed down on you. It was almost an unfamiliar presence was lurking nearby, someone you had seen in a nightmare once before, but had convinced yourself they weren't real.

Shivering, you tried your best to ignore it, slipping off behind the corner- somewhere you knew the cameras wouldn't be able to see you. Peter had already mapped out the floor plan earlier- his long, elegant fingers gliding over the page, his words tuning out slightly as you felt warmth spread through you the longer you watched his fingers point and tap.

You thought of them now as you watched the empty hallways, knowing they were probably gliding across the ridges of the mahogany desk as he waited for Matthew to finish his task.

They brushed against you now as you felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise, a ghost slipping through you.

Someone was watching you. Someone was here with you, and it wasn't Peter.

Before you could turn fully, hands reached for you, tugging you under an invisible wave. You were dragged under the surface, the shock and adrenaline causing you to gasp for air as they yanked you back against the wall.

Men came from all directions, swarming you. You kicked and clawed, getting in a good few punches as you struggled.

You were caught. Again.

But this time, they wouldn't be willing to talk- like Matt and Peter were. You didn’t know what they do, which was the scary part.

“MATT-” You managed to call out, quickly silenced as a butt of a gun was hit to your forehead, the force so strong your neck snapped back, head rolling limp as the sound of the crack reverberated through your ears.

The world turned dark, and you prayed deep down he had some idea what was happening to you at the time being.

He was a catholic. He’d hear.

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

The world was fuzzy.

Everyone said that, that when their eyes opened it was difficult to see for a bit, shapes and colours blending together. But it was bad. Worse than they put it in the books, when they didnt know how else to change the scene, so they just made the character unconscious or whatever.

You feared you were trapped in a watercolour painting as your eyes opened, hand reaching up to grab the place where your head was throbbing like a jackhammer.

You ached for it to stop, moaning out in pain as the word started to reform itself.

“Shh, shh relax.” a familiar voice called, though he sounded slightly out of tune and distant. Matthew came into view as you turned your head, his hand reaching out to press you back into the pillows.

“What happened?” you croaked out, trying to hold back the tears as you felt dried blood crust on your forehead. There was the sound of water trickling as he twisted out a clean rag, the bowl on the bedside table scattered with medical supplies.

You managed to move slightly, allowing him to sit next to you on the bed, a slight frown on his face as he sighed.

“Peter ran out to back you up, but we were outnumbered. He grabbed you and we took off. There were too many of them swarming us for it to be a decent fight, especially because you were knocked out.”

The warm cloth was pressed against your gash, and you flinched from the sudden contact as he tended to you.

Who would have thought? Not you.

“I thought the Matthew Murdock never backed down from a fight?” you asked curiously, knowing it would twinge a nerve or two. But it didn’t. He just shrugged, setting the cloth back down next to the others.

“I do when someone who is on my side is hurt.” he stated, voice seeming to be filled with an emotion you couldn't quite decide on. It was a factual statement, and you were honestly shocked he wasn't more upset with you.

You were silent as he stood, bed creaking slightly from the removal of his extra weight, his arms hanging limp at his sides. It was then you could get a good look at him, though the lighting was dim in his apartment.

His knuckles were slightly smeared with dried blood, some slashes dotted across his forearms that seemed fresh.

But he was unbothered.

He had put on the mask you had put on so many times before, becoming a soldier. Becoming guarded.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” he noted, sensing your gaze on the marks that dotted across his exposed skin. All you could do was clear your throat as you peeled your eyes from him, desperate to think of anything else but running your fingers across his skin.

You focused on the red numbers from the analog that stared at you, seeing it was an odd hour in the early morning. The heavy rain pattered against the windows, the comforting sound reminding you of nights at your mother's, listening to the rain hit the tin.

Her soft perfume would wrap you in an embrace as she’d lie with you, book in hand as you’d drift off to sleep. The sound always brought you back to a place of serenity, even in the toughest of times. You urged to find yourself back to the memories of her, but were interrupted by the sound of the door slamming, and the squealing of wet boots.

“He returns triumphant.” Peter called from the entrance, a plastic bag dropping to the ground with the water that dripped from his coat as he shrugged it off.

You groaned, forcing yourself to swing your legs over the bed, the hardwood cold against your feet. Pushing up, you wobbled slightly as you rose to your full height- feeling like a fawn on its new legs.

“Did Claire cause a fuss?” Matt asked, flicking on a light from around the corner. You heard water run from a faucet as Peter shook out his dripping hair, running his fingers through it before carrying the bag over to him.

“No, no she seemed fine with it. Kinda rushy but-” His attention slid over to you, concern across his features.

“Hey, hey you're supposed to be in bed.”

“I don't like you.” you murmured, trying to shoo him away as he walked towards you.

“I don't care. You’re supposed to be resting.” he sighed, rolling his eyes as you protested. Peter's hands were warm, despite being outside in the crisp, chilled New York air as they picked you up gently.

He treated you as if you were a piece of fine china when he walked, moving ever so slowly to avoid jutting you around more than necessary. It was odd, considering you both had given each other the side eye more times than you could count.

You weren't used to the attention. You weren't sure if you liked it or not, it was too unfamiliar and new. But you accepted it, tucking your head to your chin as you clutched his sweater tighter, the clenching of your fists bringing you relief.

He carried you to the bathroom, the brighter lighting making you squint as he entered. Matt stood at the vanity, the bag of goods Peter had picked up scattered out on the counter. You gulped at the sight of the medical tools, the needle and thread making your skin crawl.

“I think I’m fine.” you said, anxiously clearing your throat as Peter set you down beside the sink. Matt resumed his doings, gathering the thread as if this were an everyday occurrence for him.

It very well could be, you realized.

“Seriously, I’m okay-”

“Hold her still.” Matt insisted to Peter as you made a move to slide off the counter. Panic swarmed you like flies, maggots chewing away at your lungs as you found it harder and harder to breathe.

It wasn't because of the boys, far from that. They had taken quite good care of you, despite the circumstances. It was the needle, the damn needle that made your stomach turn in on itself.

The idea of something sewing through layers of your skin did not sit right with you. You wanted to turn to the invisible camera, break the fourth wall during this shit.

“Can you believe this shit? I can help take down Fisk, but I’m scared of a small needle? (and commitment sometimes)”

“Breathe.” Matt commanded sternly as his hand gripped your thigh, sensing your bubbling fear. You shook your head frantically, your stomach starting to clench.

A gentle touch to your other thigh startled you, and you looked over in alarm as Peter's fingers brushed your skin, his eyes seeming to bleed raw with empathy. He seemed genuinely concerned for you, and you welcomed his touches with open arms as you started to shake and buzz with nerves.

“Kitty, it’s okay. I promise you, he knows what he’s doing.”

”I used to stitch up my dad after his fights when I was a kid. I’ve been doing it my whole life.” Matt replied softly. “It’s not that it’s just… it grosses me out. The needle- I mean.”

Matt tilted his head slightly, a small little smile on his face. The one you had seen so much when you were around him in the short period of time, the one he did when he was teasing you.

You wanted to rub it off his face, smear it like chocolate into his skin with the palm of your hand.

“You’re a brave lil thing. You’ll be okay.” You closed your eyes, doing anything to dissociate, anything to convince your mind you were in a better place. Knuckles clenched around the counters edge, nails scratching the sharp surface as you keened.

“I’ll be gentle.” he murmured in your ear, close enough so that you could breathe in his scent, could feel the heat that pulsed off him in a sinusoidal wave.

He was far, yet so close in your mind, sight like tunnel vision as you tried not to be consumed by him. But it was impossible. The soft gentle squeeze on your thigh took away from Matt's actions, and you exhaled softly, steadily.

In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. In for four. Hold for-

“Which one of them did this to you?” Peter asked you benevolently, finger strumming a steady rhythm. You were scared for him to stop.

Suddenly, you didn't want to be left alone anymore. It was strange how the human body could react like this, how it could change and fluctuate depending on each situation was thrown at it. It wasn't equipped to handle them alone. It was a machine, but was unusable, nor was it well-oiled if someone wasn't there to support it.

In some cases, that was the last person you'd ever expect in your life to keep its maintenance.

“I’m not sure. He had a scar, right across his cheek. That’s all I could see of him, before the others came.”

Silence. Then another beat.

“We’ll kill them all.” was all he said, eyes slipping up to admire Matt's handiwork. Matt nodded, humming to himself softly as he patched you up with ease. Your eyes threatened to bulge out of their head at their comments, shocked that they could talk about this so… so lightly.

And for you? They would kill for you, someone they could barely stand to work with. It rubbed you the wrong way.

There was more to this than you realized.

“I thought the two of you didnt kill?” you asked hesitantly, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt as you felt Matt tug on the final stitch.

The two of them just shrugged. You didn't like how much they shrugged.

“We don't really.”

Then this was personal. This was about Fisk. You needed- no ached for more answers for the more questions that brewed in your mind,

Why Fisk? Why bring you into this? They most likely weren't planning on killing them because of you. You seemed too insignificant. There was a larger cause behind this, if it was driving them to killing instincts.

“So why?” You couldn't help but speak your current interest, too many questions churning deep inside the labyrinths of your mind.

“Done.” Matt sighed, ignoring your questions. A chill spread through your thigh as you felt Peter's hand slip from the surface of your skin, slightly scarred but smoothen after healing.

It felt like a shock, his hand retracting as if he was zapped from you. As if the trance was broken, and things were back to normal. Where you hated him, and he hated you, and neither of you could look at each other for more than two minutes without making faces like children.

His footsteps were silent, cat-like as he removed himself from the tension sharp enough you could cut it with a knife- as he should.

You’d go, or he would.

You slipped from the counter, watching as Matt started to put his supplies in random drawers, although they weren't random to him. He opened each one swiftly, knowing exactly where to put each item where.

You stood still, hoping he’d provide you with the answer you desired. You didn't want to leave this apartment without one.

But he ignored you, acting as if you weren't there. A childlike tendency was brewing inside you, and you fought the urge to not stop your foot against the cool tile and huff.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

Why won't you tell me anything? Why am I being left in the dark? Why, just why can't you tell me anything? But you didn't want to push anything.

It was too soon. You had a feeling deep down, small but visible, that’d they'd tell you at some point. Patience was key. It was key in that cleaning closet, and it was key now. It had overtaken so many parts of your life- being patient. It was difficult to master, but it was essential for independence.

“Thank you. For stitching me up, and taking care of me. I appreciate it.” you nodded, not waiting for a reply before you stepped out of the bathroom, heart heavy in your hands.

It had weighed on you- how exhausted you were. It was a lot for your body to handle, in such a short period of time. It was hard for you to admit it to yourself, but you registered the fact you hadn't done something as extreme as this.

Of course you had taken down organizations before, small little street gangs and such that caused disturbances to your true targets.

But this? Fisk? It was a lot. And you had a very strong feeling it wouldn't be ending soon.

The sound of a glass shifting across the table made you jump, the scraping of the glass against the mahogany an uncomfortable pause in the everlasting silence.

Peter’s hand closed around the cup, adams apple bobbing as he chugged the water back.

“You gonna sleep in just that?” he asked, eyebrow raised with a sly grin on his face. You looked down, the oversized tank top hanging down just past your knees.

You presumed it was one of Matt’s considering how large it was on you- and the fact all you had on you at the time was your suit.

They had seen you mostly naked. Oh my god.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you looked back up at him, determined not to let the humiliation you felt win. Besides, Peter was more pretty to look at than the floor anyways.

“What else am I supposed to wear? You gonna be a pervert?” His hands flew up in mock defense, eyes widening.

“No, no I’m a gentleman. Just worried you’ll be cold, that's all.”

“These floors better be heated then.” you shrugged, snagging a warm fuzzy blanket off the arm of the couch.

“No ones sleeping on the floor. I’m on the couch, you're with Parker in the bed.” Matt chipped out, emerging from the bathroom at last. It was as if he was your conversation- not wanting to interrupt in case someone said something snarky and he’d drop the popcorn.

It took you a second to understand what he said fully, feeling incompetent.

“The bed?”

“The bed.” You shook your head hectically, the room blurring.

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“I know you can.” he replied, hand touching the lower area of your back as he passed you, making you shiver.

“But it’d be much better if you slept in the bed with your injuries. And besides, what guest sleeps on the floor?” he asked coyly, fluffing up the couch pillows.

Peter’s smile was mischievous as ever, a glimmer in his eye as he took you in.

“C'mon kitty. I don't bite. Promise.” You refused to trust a promise from Parker. But you felt your feet begin to automatically walk over to the comfort of the bed, with its warm sheets that smelt of lavender.

Today was bundles of nightmares all smashed into each other, toppling over one another to cram themselves into the twenty-four hours.

What would sleeping next to Parker do to add to that?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ He added a lot.

Though it wasn't nightmares- the opposite in fact, it was more trouble to your own morals than you thought was possible.

You woke just as the sun rose, only managing to muster a few hours of shut eye despite the events before. Though your injuries were numbed from pain meds, it was spent tossing and turning between the sheets, trapped in the labyrinth of your own mind.

You were internally angry at yourself, mad at the attraction you felt towards the two men. It had only been a few weeks, and anytime their eyes lingered on you for too long you felt your panties start to dampen.

You wondered if they could tell.

The idea that they could excited you even more.

This wasn't supposed to happen, this little rendezvous of sexual tension between the three of you. You were the villain, they were the heroes. The villain wasn't supposed to clash with the hero in that way- it was off-script.

Yet you felt frozen in place as the birds chirped, Peter's warm body so close to yours you felt the hardening bulge in his pj pants- his large arm draped over your body.

Everyone was still asleep as far as you knew, but you wouldn't be surprised if Matt was awake. He was as quiet as a mouse, most likely listening to your quickening heartbeat as Peter's arm brushed against your hardened nipples, and you opened your legs slightly.

You swallowed, too afraid to make a sound.

“Mmm here kitty, kitty.” he whispered, voice husky and laced with sleep against your scalp.

Your eyes widened.

Was he dreaming about you?

Shifting, you brushed the curve of your ass against his bulge, making him groan. There was no harm in a little fun- was there? It’s not like you were in love with them or anything.

Who said you couldn't mess around for a bit- act on that sexual tension?

You heard his breath catch in his throat, eyes opening slowly to feel you pressed up against him.

“Were you dreaming of me?” you asked innocently, starting to slowly tease him, his fingers brushing circles against your hardened nipples.

“I like when you do that, ya know. They're so sensitive.”

“You minx. You're being a tease.” he growled softly, pinching your nipple harshly as you softly yelped.

“Don’t you like it when I’m a tease though bug boy? It just means you’ll have to train me real good.” you smiled, turning back to give him puppy dog eyes, resulting him practically dry-humping you.

You knew Matt could smell your sweet arousal, and you wondered how long he would hold off before yelling at the two of you to stop fucking around on his bed.

“I thought you hated me?”

“I do. But you feel so good.” you sighed, coy smile blooming as he shimmed lower, teeth sinking deep into your neck as he slid his hand down to part your legs even further.

“Such a fucking whore. Just some cock will shut you up- won’t it?”

You nodded frantically, the hiss that slipped from his lips sounding like music to your ears as he felt how wet you were through the flimsy fabric.

“Please. Please I’ll be so good I promise-” you begged, squirming with anticipation as he chuckled lowly.

“Oh so now she switches up hmm? Silly girl.” he cooed, slipping your thong to the side. You couldn't believe this was really happening. It made your head spin, made your limbs tingly at the thought alone how wrong this was.

Wasting no time, he tugged down his boxers, slowly teasing you as he slid the tip along your wet folds. You knew he was doing it just to spite you, and you were insistent on not giving him the satisfaction.

Biting your lip, you shivered as he toyed with you- a cat playing with its dinner.

“Oh so no back talk now? Good.” he growled, sliding it in to the hilt, making you slap your hands over your mouth with a means to silence the moans that threatened to escape.

Though there was no point, Matt heard every little breath and whimper you protruded, cock hard and heavy in his hands as he stoked it like some pervert.

Peter stuffed you to the brim, brushing your g-spot as he tossed his head back in pleasure.

“F-fuck-” you whimpered, almost unable to speak with how sudden the stretch was. It sent fire coursing through your veins, an adrenaline rush bringing you back to when you were in his arms on the rooftop.

“Fuck is right, Jesus Christ you feel so good. So fuckin tight.” he moaned, slowly sliding out of you, feeling your juices coat the base of his cock as he thrust into you hard enough to send your body jolting before he steadied you.

A new body had entered the room, his presence searing and as hot as embers. Little moans escaped your mouth as you stared at Matt, mouth agape, eyes wide as Peter hammered into you.

“In my bed? Really?” he smirked, and you followed his happy trail down to where his large, veiny hand palmed himself as he heard your heartbeat skip a beat.

“Well someone’s happy to see me. Hmm kitty?”

You moaned, hiccuping on your spit and drool as Peter’s thrusts became more erratic. By the way he was handling you, you knew he didn’t care how quickly you came.

He was using you as a toy, a means to get off. That turned you on even more.

“You’ll get your turn with her after Matty. We talked about this.” he mused, watching your breasts bounce from his harsh manhandling.

“Oh, I know. It’s only fair, isn't it kitty?”

“Y-yeah.” you choked out, Matt’s fingers reaching out to wipe the drool that had dribbled from your lips, swirling his tongue around the coated digit and releasing it with a pop.

“She’s already going dumb. Like a bitch in heat.” Peter smiled, him and Matt holding you steady as your body instinctively attempted to wiggle away from the intense waves of overstimulation, his moans ringing out throughout the room as he came in you with a grunt.

“She just needs to be bred.” Matt smiled, tugging off his boxers and your eyes nearly rolled at the sight.

This was addicting. The way they were making you feel, the way they spoke to you as if you were just a toy for their pleasure. But that's what you liked. Which made it so you knew it would be even harder to avoid this scenario again. It was like a drug.

His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze on his as Peter slid out of you, cum oozing out all over your puffy, swollen cunt as you whined from the abrupt emptiness.

“Shhh. You’re fine.”

Your body was limp as Matt took over, flipping you on your stomach, knees bent with your ass in the air. Kisses trailed down your spine, thin tanktop slung somewhere in the room.

You didn’t know. You didn't care.

All you cared about was the way he handled you, so gentle compared to Peter. But you knew he’d get rough soon.

“S’too much-” you mumbled sleepy against the sheets, feeling spent.

“She's spent. Fuckin whore is cockdrunk.” Peter smirked, shrugging on a t-shirt as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

It felt dirtier with him watching in a way, knowing his eyes would linger on you in your most vulnerable state.

“But she had so much backtalk with us these past few weeks. What happened to that now angel?” Matt asked mockingly as he slid back in you, stuffing Peter's cum back into your abused hole again.

“Mhm-” you moaned, fisting the sheets as he entered you. He was more patient than Peter, slowly filling you instead of slamming to the hilt- but the stretch was just as delicious.

“M’so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” you mindlessly babbled- for what you didn't know. You just wanted to be good, to make them happy, and to please them. If that meant shattering your ego, then so be it.

“Silly girl.” Matt provoked, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he started to use you as he saw fit. You sunk your head deeper into the pillows, tears starting to stream down your cheeks from the sensitivity.

“M’gonna cum-” you hiccupped cautiously, seeing as Matt’s pace was not stopping for anything, or anyone.

“Yeah? Go ahead baby. I’ll let you, since Parker was being so cruel.”

“She was being a tease. She had to learn a lesson.” Peter mused, teeth digging into his lower lip as he watched where you and Matt connected, knowing his cum was being shoved further into you.

“But she’s such a sweet girl. Deep down, you just wanna please us, don’t you baby? Your little demeanor doesn't fool us.”

You felt your brain go fuzzy, his voice sounding distant as you came around his cock with a high pitched whine.

“Atta girl kitty.” Peter called, creaming Matt’s cock as he stilled, filling you up just the same. His grunts were like music to your ears, following you as you came down from the little cloud you were perched on.

“So good baby. Just stay put, yeah?” Matt murmured, and you didn’t even have the strength to nod as he slowly inched his way out of you, both of their cum now slowly spilling out of you as your legs twitched and quivered.

You couldn't move even if you wanted to. Your body felt like jello, and you felt your lower half slowly slide down onto the bed as you whimpered.

“Hurts s’bad.” you groaned, Peter's hand finding its way to stroke your cheek bringing you some form of comfort as you heard Matt start to run the tap, warm water spewing out onto a clean washcloth.

“I know kitty. But you did so good for us. It’s okay, just go back to sleep yeah?”

You nodded, eyes starting to droop as you clung to consciousness.

“I fucked her better you know.” Peter called, making Matt scoff as he returned with the damp fabric in hand.

“Yeah right. Older men just do it better Parker.” he shrugged, and you almost wanted to deride them. They were bickering like children and if you were in the position to bicker back- you would.

The feeling of the cloth against you made you jolt, and Peter reached out to steady you, rubbing small soothing circles on your back as Matt cleaned you.

It was strange and unfamiliar, the kindness and soothing physical contact the men were showing you. You bathed in it, scared it would all slip away like sand when the after-orgasm haze wore off.

“I’m sure Murdock. But who got to have her first?”

“Because she was sleeping right next to you! In my bed, may I add.”

You rolled your eyes, their endless arguing lingering over to the kitchen as you clung to the warm blankets that smelt of them.

It was going to be a long day indeed.

1K notes · View notes

sunflowersoap · 7 months

Text

y'know something I've been kinda wondering about blackspace since I first saw it is why the fuck basil dies so much. feels kinda ???? at first, but man in retrospect does it make sense. because like.

sunny thinks all he does is take. he thinks he ruins everyone's lives. he has this horrible self hatred and just overwhelming belief that he ruins EVERYTHING with no exceptions. he especially has guilt over what he "forced" basil to do. he ruined basils life. blackspace is sunny confronting his actual feelings and trauma for the first time since it happened. so, naturally, him feeling like he destroyed basils life is a reoccurring theme in it.

and also him feeling like basil has too much faith in him is shown. basil following him everywhere and trusting him. basil letting the spiders eat him alive. he thinks basil is letting HIM ruin his life. he thinks basil is just sitting there and taking it as he ruins everything.

another big thing to remember is the room where kel, hero and aubrey kill basil. that's what a part of him is terrified of. that HE tore the group apart. HES the reason why basils so alone. he's gonna make everyone hate basil.

it's interesting because it's an exact inverse of what basil was terrified of happening to sunny. basil hid the accident because he was terrified of everyone hating and ganging up on sunny, and now sunny's terrified of everyone hating and ganging up on basil.

so basils deaths in blackspace aren't omori wanting to kill basil like some people in fandom think it is. it's sunny's fears.

#omori spoilers #omori #omori sunny #sunny omori #basil omori #omori basil #omori blackspace #blackspace omori #ok to tag as ship #omori analysis

229 notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Text

YANDERE! BATFAM W/ MILES MORALES (BUT MAKE IT GENDER NEUTRAL)! READER

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] [PREVIOUS CHAPTER ]

GENERAL CW/TW: Spoilers for Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. Typical Yandere themes of stalking, violence, and whatnot.

PART SPECIFIC CW/TW: Soft, awfully wholesome scene with your father. Like seriously it’s like the third time I watched the whole movie but this particular scene still breaks me

current status: unedited

summary: you get replaced by peter last minute as the one that plugs in the goober. but you won’t let that happen. not when he still has a whole life to get back to.

Reply if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

WHAT’S UP DANGER

( PART FOUR )

“Aye, Getting old they doubted us, makes it that more marvelous. Sign ‘em up cause I’m on this vibes and I get synonymous.

What’s up, danger?

Aye, don’t be a stranger!”

Look, because of the Spiderman: Miles Morales game I’m a bit biased.

I don’t want uncle Aaron to die damn it. But yeah the Prowler does exist and you have been keeping contact with him.

But for the sake of keeping the dude alive though he’ll only physically come in act 2 of this series, we gucci?

Although this means you lose a lot of the development Miles gets from his death. I’ll try my best to make the events as natural as possible

Anyways, you come back to the spider gang hanging out at Jason and Roy’s apartment.

The gang essentially jumpscares you (thank god for spider sense) with a suit of your own.

Except it was one size too big.

And there were holes at the eye sockets for you to actually see through.

“Ehrm . . . Thanks ?”

“You don’t gotta pretend you like it, kid.”

“Ahaha…”

“It’ll fit eventually.”

You begin sweating quite a bit. Something felt so off here.

You notice that Jason was looking straight at you.

Which I mean, anyone would be m e l t i n g if someone like Red Hood was staring right at them so it’s a miracle you aren’t a puddle at the moment.

Perhaps it’s cause you spent so much time with your crush, Gwen, that you’ve pretty much gotten used to hot people looking at you directly.

Still, you turn away and hide your face. Utterly clueless as to how react in this type of situation.

The relatively peaceful circumstance doesn’t last long as everyone’s spider sense is alerted and the door bell rings. A mechanical tentacle shoots through the lock, completely shattering it.

“Cute place. Real homey.”

Oh great, it’s Liv.

“Get out of here, kid.”

“For the last time I’m a legal adult—“

“Mira todas estas arañitas. (Well, look at these little spiders.)”

Two more of Kingpin’s men show up, Tombstone and Scorpion.

God, fucking damn it—

Olivia spots the new flashdrive Peni made around Peter’s neck and grins.

“Oh, I think I’ll be taking that.”

You hold in your attraction to the woman and duck as a fight ensues.

Scorpion takes notice of you.

“Niñito dale. (Go ahead, little one.)”

“Prepárate a morir (Prepare to die) — Ah, man stupid pillows!”

Before you could get your body bashed in by the cyborg, Red Hood takes a shot his tail just in time.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah.”

Your spider senses were all over the place just like with Damian. What is it with black haired hot guys and their danger levels-

You manage to slip away, flashdrive in hand, courtesy of invisibility finally working in your favor.

“All vehicles in the area we have a disturbance involving multiple spider . . . people ?”

“On my way.”

Dick wasn’t the type to spend Christmas in Gotham.

But the tone of his brother’s voice — how broken and desperate it was — alarmed him.

It seemed that his baby brother finally fell in love.

It was about time really.

Although he was terribly curious as to who the person the Damian Wayne had fallen for.

You couldn’t just be a normal student from school right?

He finds around the scene looking terrified and scared.

A perfect opportunity to get to know you a little better.

“You alright there citizen?”

“Huh? Yeah I’m fine.”

“You seem pretty calm despite being in a police car and all.”

“My dad’s a cop. He gives me rides in one plenty of times.”

“Jefferson Davis, right?”

“You know him?”

“Well, it’s hard not knowing the guy who’s been looking all over for you. He spread the news to several police departments.”

“That . . . sounds a lot like him . . . “

“You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell him where you are. You need some space, right?”

“Right.”

Nothing outstanding so far. You were cute albeit awkward. But he could see that you were going through things at the moment. Early adulthood is a bitch after all.

You kept quiet most of the ride.

You were so distracted that you didn’t even question how he knew what school you went to and the location of your dorms.

“Hey, I’m a little curious, why don’t you have his last name? Family problems?”

“No, it’s something with my grandfather. I don’t think it’s within my place to share.”

“Well alright.”

You two arrive at your dormitory and you make sure to give the place a good old scan just in case you were getting followed.

“I’ll see ya when I see ya, [Y/N]. Give me a call if you ever need help.”

“Got ya.”

You realize that you don’t even know the man’s name much less a way to contact him.

But as you look back, the car he was in had already driven away.

Time wasn’t going to wait for you.

You knew that. You were trying your darn hardest to chase after it.

But you weren’t fast enough.

“[Y/N]. We came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? We can say goodbye at the collider.”

“You’re not getting it. You’re staying here.”

“I need to be there, so you can all go home.”

“They are going home [Y/N]. I’m the only one staying.”

“You’re taking my place.”

Your voice trembled as you say those words. And unbeknownst to you, Jason (and to be fair the rest of the spider-people are out there eavesdropping too) shivered as he heard your words.

“If you stay here you’ll die.”

“I’m doing what needs to be done. I just wanted you to hear it from me.”

“What about MJ?”

“Not everything works out, kid. I need the goober.”

“That’s not fair! You gotta tell them I can do this.”

It took Jason all his might to not reach out and embrace you.

He knew how it felt to be replaced. Circumstances differ but still, a connection was made.

Although he couldn’t be there for you now as you had to grow into the Spiderman you had to be, he promised to himself that he will in the future.

After all, if you two were partners in another universe, what stops it from happening in this one as well?

“It wasn’t their decision.”

“I’m ready, I promise— ah—!”

Peter knocks you down, jumping to the ceiling and dangling you by a web.

Jason clenched his teeth. As much as this man knew so much about him and his vulnerabilities, and how he knew this was completely necessary it still ached to see his destined partner getting thrown around.

“Then venom strike me right now or turn invisible on command so you can get past me.”

Peter webs your entire body and sticks you to the chair your roommate always used.

“Look I know how much you want this kid. But you don’t have it yet. I’m sorry.”

“When will I know I’m ready?!”

He then webs your mouth and takes the goober from your hands.

“You won’t. It’s a leap of faith. That’s all it is [Y/N]. A leap of faith.”

And you’re left alone, stuck with webs all over your body. Unable to move or talk.

You hear a knock to your door.

“[Y/N]. . . ! Uh . . . [Y/N] it’s your dad. Please open the door.”

Unfortunately you couldn’t so you just use thrust your body closer to him.

“[Y/N] I can see your shadow moving around.”

“Yeah okay I get it. I get it yes… still ignoring me. Look can we talk for a minute?”

You nod. Internally facepalming after realizing he can’t see you doing so.

“Look sometimes people drift apart [Y/N] and I don’t want that to happen to us, okay? I know I don’t always do what you need me to do or say what you need me to say but I’m…”

“But I see this - this — spark in you, it’s - it’s amazing. It’s why I push you but . . . it’s yours and whatever you choose to do with it you’d be great.”

You feel tears falling from your face as your father spoke.

All those days feeling the pressure of everyone’s expectations on you

As [Y/N], as the Spiderman of this universe.

You were an adult in age, yes. But in the face of all these events your youth and inexperience slapped you in your face.

You wanted to run away. You wanted everything to be over and done with.

But you realize, you were the only one who could do this. For the sake of the spider-gang. For Gotham.

You didn’t know if you were going to succeed but wasn’t that what life was?

A leap of faith.

“Look, call me when you can.”

“I love you. You don’t have to say it back though.”

And your father leaves.

You close your eyes. Thinking back to all the moments you’ve failed, all the times you’ve broken a bone or two trying to learn.

Time wasn’t going to wait for you. But why run after it when you can web-sling it up?

You use your venom powers to get rid of the webs and do you best to get to Jason’s place. He had to have an extra, better suit lying around right? Anything was better than what the gang gave you.

You ring the bell to his house completely expecting him to not be there and potentially having to break in.

But you stand corrected.

“Took you long enough.”

taglist: @vanessa-boo @w31rdg1rl @zlatolait-writes @ice-cream-writes-stuff @hakudaru @violet2507 @sleepy-maenad @yell0wdreams @humanoid606 @holybatflapexpert

869 notes · View notes

annabelle--cane · 4 months

Note

do we have any information on the approximate dates or year that TMA takes place in? I’m obsessed with timelines and I’m so curious about if those dates are Known or not or can only be guessed about

yes we do! some parts of the timeline are a little vague, but every live and "in situ" statement (with a few exceptions) has a date attached to it. I won't go through every known date, and I'm also not scrupulously checking to make sure I've copied all these numbers down correctly so there's probably an error or two in here, but some significant ones include:

mag 13 - alone: the first live statement and the first hard date for the show, 13 january 2016

mag 22 - colony: martin's statement after being trapped by jane prentiss, 12 march 2016

mag 26 - a distortion: sasha's statement about meeting michael, 2 april 2016 (<- that was my fourteenth birthday :3)

mag 38 / mag 39 / mag 40: jane prentiss's attack on the institute, sasha's death, and all the debrief statements afterwards, 29 july 2016

mag 41 - too deep: jon's statement about exploring the tunnels and his first supplemental tape about gertrude's murder, 2 september 2016

mag 43 - section 31: basira's statement about diego molina + the start of her giving gertrude's old tapes to jon, 19 september 2016

mag 47 - the new door: helen's statement about the hallways, we meet michael in person for the first time, 2 october 2016

mag 61 - hard shoulder: daisy's statement about seeing the coffin for the first time, 1 december 2016

mag 73 - police lights: basira's statement about rescuing callum brodie from maxwell rayner, 11 february 2017

mag 76 - the smell of blood: melanie's statement about her investigations into war ghosts, at the end she and jon have a bit of a fight about how That Is Not Sasha, 13 february 2017

mag 78 / mag 79 / mag 80: jon releases not-sasha from the table, martin and tim get trapped in the corridors, jon meets leiter, elias smashes leitner with a metal pipe, all on 16 february 2017

mag 81 / mag 82: jon makes a statement at georgie's place about a guest for mr spider at the same time as daisy interviews the remaining archives staff to try and ascertain his whereabouts, 18 february 2017

mag 89 - twice as bright: statement of jude perry, ft. jon hand crispification, 24 april 2017

mag 91 / mag 92 (/ maybe mag 93?): statement of mike crew, death of mike crew, jon daisy and basira's encounter in the woods, the big elias conversation at the institute, 28 april 2017. mag 93 might also be recorded on this day, I'm not quite sure, because georgie's statement (mag 94) is 29 april, but I don't know if that's fully the next day or if jon got back really late on the 28th, recorded mag 93, and then georgie gave her statement in the wee hours of the 29th. up to interpretation and how little sleep you envision jon as having.

mag 100 - I guess you had to be there: lynne hammond's is 2 may 2017, robin lennox's is 20 may 2017, brian finlinson's is 26 may 2017, and "john smith's" statement doesn't have a date.

mag 111 - family business: gerry's posthumous statement about smirke's 14, 30 june 2017. again, trevor and julia's statement about how they met in mag 109 is dated 29 june, and I don't know if it's an either-side-of-midnight thing or a full day elapsed between them.

mag 118 - the masquerade: martin and melanie pull a fast one on elias while the rest of the gang sets up explosives in the unknowing, 6 august 2017.

mag 120 - eye contact: elias's statement about jon's coma dreams + elias's arrest, 9 august 2017.

mag 121 / mag 122: oliver banks gives his statement about point nemo and jon wakes up, 15 february 2018

mag 128 - heavy goods: breekon deliver's the coffin and jon slurps a statement right out of his head, 3 march 2018

mag 132 - entombed: jon buries himself alive to rescue daisy, 24-26 march 2018

mag 141 - doomed voyage: on the boat to norway jon slurps a statement about mikaele salesa out of a shiphand's head, 11 june 2018

mag 142 - scrutiny: jess tyrell comes in to complain about jon slurping a statement out of her head and haunting her nightmares, 12 june 2018

mag 146 / mag 147: jon gets intervened on about all the brain slurping, they go to hilltop road and find annabelle's statement, 20 july 2018

mag 157 / mag 158 / mag 159: peter releases not-sasha and brings martin to the panopticon for a showdown with "elias," julia and trevor attack the institute, daisy goes monster mode, and jon follows martin into the lonely and saves him with the power of gay love and also slurping peter lukas's brain so hard he explodes badly, 25 september 2018

mag 160 - the eye opens: jon reads a normal statement and nothing bad happens, 18 october 2018.

fuck if I know

#tma #answered #anons

96 notes · View notes

one-green-frog · 5 months

Text

Post Surgery Cuddles

Hobie x ftm!reader

Fluff

Thank you for requesting anon, and sorry this took so long as you know tumblr isnt really nice to me rn :)

Y/N spent the day sitting on the couch and being pampered by Hobie, his lovely boyfriend. Just a few days ago, he finally got his top surgery, after many long nights working overtime and saving like a mad man. Hobie, the supportive boyfriend that he is, also occasionally contributed to the funds and Y/N luckily decided not to comment on the not so legally acquired money. Right now Hobie is in the kitchen preparing a neal for both of them, the surgery was draining for both of them. He was worried that soemthign might go wrong during it, but luckily Y/N came out drowsy and disoriented .

"They took my boobs" will forever be ingrained in Hobie's mind, and nothing will stop him at reminding his boyfriend of the many, many embarassing things he said while doped up on pain medication.

Y/N couldn't wish for a better partner in life, Hobie always prioritized him, he even "neglected" his Spider-man duties for him. The pre-surgery anxiety really hit him hard and he is so thankful that Hobie stayed with him all the time. Late night movies that turned into a cuddle session, home-cooked meals that turned into an eating contest, it didn't matter, Hobie was always there to take his mind off of any bad thoughts.

While this was great for Y/N you needed all the support and kind words Hobie offered his absence in a certain HQ caused some troubles. Especially for Miguel. But let's be honest, Hobie wouldn't care what Miguel thinks of him, his boyfriend needed him and that was all he could think about. Although he did forget to mention his leave to a certain group of spider-teens, who decided to take matters into their own hands.

Miles, Gwen and Pavitr all came to Hobie's dimension and started to look for him at their usual meet-up spots, but unfortunately they couldn't find him anywhere. As they ran out of places to look, Pav suggested tracking his watch, Miles was hesitant at first but he didn't have a better idea and they wanted to make sure that Hobie was actually alright. When they pinned down his location and arrived they weren't expecting to look through an apartment window at a romantic Hobie spoon feeding who was presumably his partner.

Sensing some eyes on them, both Hobie and Y/N turned to look out the window and saw 3 pairs of eyes looking back at them. Not wanting to force them to stick on the wall outside, Hobie opened the window for the teens to crawl inside. They stood there, embarrassed for being caught, but also glad that Hobie was still alive and well, the uncomfortable silence growing larger by the second as Hobie just sat down next to his partner again, a smug look on his face.

"Sooo.... uh, we didn't mean to..to interrupt you two, " Miles said awkwardly, removing his mask. "We were just worried since you didn't show up... for quite some time, 0" Gwen chimed in, all the while Pavitr used the time to admire the appartement and talk about how great it was decorated.

"Sorry, but my boyfriend here needed mew and thinking that my sudden absence would also piss of Miguel I killed two birds with one stone. Although I did seem to forget to tell you lads. "

Realizing that Hobie was alright while also hinting for them to leave so he could spend some quality time with his boyfriend, the teens left. Through the window.

Finally getting the peace and quiet back into the apartment, Hobie began to tell Y/N some stories about the gangs adventures while feeding Y/N, who still persisted that he didn't need that much help. The rest of the day was spent with his and cuddles and the occasional pill when the pain from the surgery intensified.

Again I'm sorry this took me so long to finish, i hope you like it.

#male reader #x male reader #astv #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #atsv hobie #hobie x reader #hobie x male reader #spiderman atsv #atsv #ftm reader

100 notes · View notes

vulnonapix1234 · 10 months

Text

Despite the semi popular headcanon that Miles has the self preservation instincts of an wet paper bag, I truly believe that he is the only member of the spider gang that has any medical knowledge.

Like I seriously believe that 11 year old Miles Morales would watch "Grey's Anatomie", so he could talk with Rio about her Job.

(I imagine that Jeff would take Miles to the police station sometimes. Like he didn't want his tiny child to be alone and he really didn't trust Aaron. So Miles is more than aware about the job of the policeman. )

Rio wasn't amused. Like she was touched that her little boy wanted to know more about her profession, but these kind of series are trash.

So she included him more and teached him about applying bandages, injection and other medical stuff.

Miles is actually aware how important self care is. He knows how detrimental sleep loss can be. How his high metabolism could destroy his body and what he has to do against it.

He was pretty shocked when he realized that the other didn't even know how to bandage an small cut.

Most of them just "let it heal", because of their healing factor, as if the risk of infection wasn't there.

Miles made a whole ass PowerPoint after Noir nearly got a sepsis after he tried to pull out a bullet with a knife.

Now, you might ask yourself who is the worst at self care and who is the best.

I have made a list

Hobie Brown has the body of an sick Victorian child. He is homeless, doesn't have a stable income, not enough food and has to battle every day and night.

Noir grew up in the first world war. What fo you expect?

Peter is only alive because of his Wive. His Nutrition is a nightmare and he will get a heartattack if he continues like that.

Gwen is reckless and is horrible at self care.

Penny doesn't get hurt as much, but her mental health is in shambles after her Canon event.

Margo doesn't sleep enough and needs to do more stretching, but is fine otherwise.

Pavitr is the only one that sticks to his health care. He often visits miles when he has been hurt for bandages and "get better soon" kisses.

Spiderham doesn't even know how his health works. It just does and Miles doesn't know if he should question it

#miles morales headcanons #atsv #itsv #miles morales #hobie brown #peter b parker #spider noir #spider ham #atsv margo #atsv pavitr

235 notes · View notes

pinesfamilyguidetotheweird · 5 months

Text

Stan Pines Headcanons Part 01

A Tight Squeeze

No doubt that he has some level of claustrophobia after being trapped in a trunk. I wanna say it was from an artsymeeshee post where a fic idea (a fic idea I still have and is still 95% finished…) that dives deeper into Stan’s quote of ‘chewing out of the trunk of a car’. When trapped in said trunk, the car it was attached to was pushed into a bog or something to sink (from I think Zeragii’s fic on AO3). With Stan in it.

Bi the Way

Because why the heck not? And, yes, I do think he dated Jimmy Snakes for a short while. Even so, Stan leans more towards women.

Hablo Español

I think it is canon that he knows some Spanish (The Last Mabelcorn). I do believe that he’s actually quite fluent in Spanish, something he picked up while in Colombian prison. Speaking of, it is said that he was imprisoned in three different countries. I’d take the guess that Colombia was one of them. As for the other two…still thinking on that, though I’d imagine the countries aren’t too far from the USA because I can’t imagine Stan being able to take a plane to, say, England. After some consideration, I think that the other two countries he was arrested in were Canada and Brazil. He knows some French and an exceptional bit of Portugal.

For Protection

Those ten guns he has? They’re for protecting himself (plus his family) from not only people from Stan’s past, but also from any aggressive anomalies that call Gravity Falls home. Or really anyone/anything else he deems as a threat to his family.

Love at First Sight

Stan claims that he’s not a fan of kids. He even wanted nothing to do with his nephew when he was born because he was all snotty and drooly. However, when Dipper and Mabel were born, it was like a switch was flipped and Stan adored the twin babies.

A Froggy Dream

Stan once had an occurring dream that he was the owner of some wax museum, which actually inspired him to get (steal) those cursed wax figures. The oddest part about the dream was that he was a frog instead of a human. And he swore that Soos was in it too.

Still Got It

He started going back to keeping in boxing shape some time after the twins were born.

Second Thoughts

There had been maaany times during those 30 years that Stan wondered if his brother was even still alive and if all this work was worth it.

Somewhat Sentimental

Similar to how Mabel has a section in her scrapbook of failed romance, Stan has a booklet that contains his own failed love life. Of the known partners he had, they were: Carla McCorkle, Jimmy Snakes, Marilyn Rosenstein, and Lazy Susan. There was probably more he tried to sweet talk over the years, but never panned out. Heck, Darlene the Spider Woman is probably in the book too. Also, I find it funny how three of the six known lovers are magical in some way (Jimmy is basically Ghost Rider, Marilyn Eda is a witch, and Darlene is...I guess a Jorogumo)

Former Biker

Pretty much a scrapped idea that is now in headcanon land, that Stan was part of a biker gang at one point, which was how he knew Jimmy Snakes, who was the biker leader. He still has his helmet and leather jacket. I wonder if he still knows how to drive a motorcycle.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #grunkle stan #stan pines #gravity falls headcanons

73 notes · View notes

jjungkookislife · 2 months

Text

Quarterly Fic Recs 2024: #1

Hello! I'm back again with the first fic rec list of 2024! I enjoyed reading these fics, and I hope y'all do as well! Please be mindful of the warnings on each fic and I encourage you to reblog fics you enjoy as well :)

Seokjin

king of tides @sailoryooons

summary: Seokjin meets a ghost of his past when he and his crew stop to celebrate for the evening.

Yoongi

desecrate @hamsterclaw

summary: A fall from grace causes you to stumble into the hands of a demon prince. Inspired by Lilith.

stress relief @dreamescapeswriting

soft Yoongi having a bad day

morals on sundays @/gimmethatagustd

summary: You’re still in love with your ex-boyfriend. Yoongi offers some help to get over him.

Hoseok

spider web @/sailoryooons

summary: Playing games with vampires is a bad idea. Playing with Spiders is worse.

Namjoon

gang shit @gimmethatagustd

summary: Your daughter’s classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you’re his arch-nemesis.

Jimin

technicolor @/gimmethatagustd

summary: Love is one hell of a drug. Bottled and sold on the black market, it isn’t for the faint-hearted. You’re not really interested in trying it until you meet Jimin.

Taehyung

the one with taehyung's indecent proposal @eoieopda

summary: your fuck buddy’s class reunion is coming up. that’s not something you expected to learn about. it’s definitely not something you expected to be implicated in.

Jungkook

none :(

OT7/Multiple Members

carnival of terror @theharrowing

summary: The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

immortals @bang-tan-bitches

summary: Sometimes, you find your destiny. And sometimes, your destiny does whatever it takes to keep you.

petrichor @purpleyoonn

summary: You had been working at Bangtan Corporation for almost two years now, and not once have you ever laid eyes on your bosses. That was, until you met them when out with some of your coworkers. Now, you almost wish you hadn’t. Almost.

Seokjin

memories of you @shuadotcom

summary: Your memories with Seokjin are some of your favorite.

serve me @chateautae

summary: kim seokjin has been your annoyingly stoic butler ever since you started university, and were gifted your own penthouse. for years, your relationship had remained on the outs, subjecting seokjin to hearing your desperate moans for other men each time they climbed into your sheets; and each time you rubbed it in his face. little did you know that you were only riling him up, and it would be your moans for him bouncing off the walls when your taunting finally unravels his ironclad self-control.

sweet dreams @/gimmethatagustd

summary: Seokjin loves when you paint your nails pink.

Yoongi

broken pt. 2 @kithtaehyung

summary: the championship game lights up… and everything goes down.

maybe so @diorh0seokie

(cheating/angst)

Hoseok

gone wild @johobi

summary: Hoseok consumes porn like he does Cheetos: in unhealthily large amounts. He’s seen, and jacked off to, most things imaginable. But there are those photos that always draw him back…

hot rod @kinktae

summary: a 1950′s inspired fic where greaser Hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner.

keeping a secret @/kpopfanfictrash

summary: You and Hoseok have been hooking up for a few weeks now. No one in your friend group knows. What happens then, when he shows up at movie night looking better than anticipated?

flower @readyplayerhobi

summary: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

who's your daddy? @ppersonna

summary: in order to get over your hopeless crush, you sign up for DADDI, a daddy-dom dating site. you can’t tell your friends, especially your best friend hoseok. but as weeks go on, you’re desperate to meet the man behind the screen.

groupie love @kimnjss

summary: he’s ½ of the famous rap duo, the 94′s. when stumbling upon a pretty youtuber, he’s quick to decide he wants to have her. but one night with her just doesn’t seem like enough.

heartbreaker ^

summary: you’re just his type. so it’s no surprise when all of his time and effort goes into making you his. though, they’ve always said… you only want it because you can’t have it.

swallow your pride @/ugh-yoongi

established relationship

ho ho horrible ^

summary: the one where your neighbor is a relentless christmas caroler and refuses to take a hint, but at least he’s really hot.

hate that i love it @yoongiphoria

summary: hate-fucking hoseok is your favorite and least favorite thing to do.

take care of me @/gimmethatagustd

summary: You’d never trade quiet, sleepless nights with your boyfriend for anything in the world, even when sometimes it feels like the world is falling apart around you.

not today, satan ^

summary: If you had known the demon tasked with reaping your soul would be a total #daddy you would have gone to Hell sooner!

Namjoon

the gang summons a demon @ugh-yoongi

the prompt: you, a powerful demoness, have just been summoned to earth. this man, this human, wants you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a few days so his parents will get off his back about it.

in the closet ^

office au

Jimin

none :(

Taehyung

rotten angelcake ch. 11 @inkedtae

summary: she’s as sweet as angelcake; he likes her honeyed rotten. this is a series following the complicated relationship between a sugar baby, sugar daddy and his corruption kink.

loverboy @kookslastbutton

summary: After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don’t initiate as much, you haven’t worn lingerie yet, and you’re still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

Jungkook

be mine @minisugakoobies

summary: Won’t you be his Valentine?

to give a helping hand @oddinary4bts

summary: when Jungkook comes home from the gym, he goes feral thinking about you.

oxygen @/gimmethatagustd

summary: If you get caught, you’ll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.

OT7/Mulpitple Members

lavender lover @/gimmethatagustd

summary: Taehyung broke all his rules for Jimin, even when it hurt.

Seokjin

chivalry @out-of-jams

summary: And they say chivalry is dead.

burn after reading @raplinesmoon

summary: The agency made the biggest mistake they ever could by trusting Kim Seokjin one more time. You weren’t going to do the same.

Yoongi

exitus acta probat @/bang-tan-bitches

summary: “All you need to know is that my name is Yoongi and you’re mine now.”

beloved ^

summary: Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win

the mark of yun-ki @/ladyartemesia

summary: For a thousand years the tiger god Yun-Ki has marked the heirs of the Min Empire and thus only a marked heir can inherit the throne. When the beautiful daughter of the Min Emperor’s loyal warlord rescues a mysterious tiger hybrid from the imperial prison, she unleashes a secret that the throne would kill to protect. The young emperor claims to be the chosen heir… but who really bears the Mark of Yun-Ki?

romancing the tome @/kpopfanfictrash

summary: Min Yoongi is many things: renowned archaeologist, versatile hat-wearer, on a bit of an unlucky streak with his work and kind of an ass. What he isn’t is fluent in Latin. Meaning, Yoongi can’t quite determine if he’s being led astray on his most recent archaeological expedition. Enter you, cultural linguist and all-around badass. The goal? Treasure. The means? Your teensy, tiny car. The problem? Min Yoongi is so damn annoying, you might just kill him first.

be my baby [SMAU] @/kimnjss

summary: when the love of his life suddenly vanishes, he drives himself mad looking for her. seemingly erased from the world, he’s forced to pick up the pieces of his life and move on… fast forward three years and someone who looks a lot like the woman he lost is being spotted, holding a kid with an oddly familiar gummy smile…

too easy @sweetestofchaos

summary: Yoongi’s sugar baby really wants that new Zimmermann dress

blackthorn ^

summary: Prince Yoongi and Princess Keena have been friends for as long as they can remember. But finding out they’re promised to one another in marriage isn’t the only obstacle they must overcome as war threatens their home.

stop thinking about me @/yoongiphoria

summary: there's only one person he thinks about with that song.

Hoseok

hot and bothered @sahmfanficbts

summary: You’re hot and bothered and your lawn needs some TLC. Enter: Hoseok with his big lawn-mower.

Namjoon

promise @joheunsaram

summary: Namjoon has always been in the periphery of your friend group, but when you meet the cute boy he doesn’t make the best first impression, or second, or third…

Jimin

renegade @/yoongiphoria

summary: is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together, so i can love you?

Taehyung

new flame @/gimmethatagustd

summary: Flame is a dating app designed for omegas and alphas to find heat and rut partners. You’re skeptical of using the app, not anticipating that you might find someone who is more than just a new flame.

enfer @/out-of-jams

summary: Enfer, the ironically named club, was well known for helping to bring together those of the living with the dead, well, undead. And your best friend had convinced you to try it out, to potentially find a partner amongst the sophisticated group of the otherworldly elite. You’d been open to it. But never would you have imagined meeting him.

stranger danger ^

stress relief @joonsmagicshop

summary: Taehyung gives you an offer you can’t refuse

Jungkook

none :(

OT7/Multiple Members

cosmic collision @/gimmethatagustd

summary: A responsible weedman, Yoongi always tests out new marijuana strains before selling them to his customers. When his supplier offers him a new strain, Cosmic Collision, Yoongi is eager to try it. What he doesn’t expect is the alien that comes with it.

accidental texts (hyung line) @ppersonna

accidental love confessions @kookiesjoonies

#jjungkookislife fic recs #jjungkookislife fic rec list #jjungkookislife masterlist fic recs

42 notes · View notes

lady-maracas · 4 days

Note

Hello! I have juicy angsty request for you! It's angel dust x !male reader and it goes like this:

Reader and angel lived in the same period and used to work in the mafia where they met eachother and eventually fell in love with eachother (in a secret relationship), after some time both reader and angel die in shootouts with other gangs and the cops.

They both assume that their partner went to heaven and go many years in hell alone. Until by pure luck Reader finds angel wasted behind a bar and decides to help this random twink he found (they don't recognize eachother because angel is a spider demon dude now and thus pretty different visuallg compared to his living self, same goes for reader), after angel becomes sober and understands that reader isn't someone who will take advantage of him the 2 start having some small talk which eventually leads to them both thinking "HOLY SHIT ARE YOU ANGEL/READER?!!?", after which they cry tears of joy after finally finding their soulmate after decades spent alone

Angst prompts are 17, 22, 30 and 40

Also it's the first time that i write a request with a prompt system so sorry if i messed it up and of course feel free to modify my request however you like if you need to.

Thanks for reading!

Memories

Pairing: AngelDust X M!Reader

Word count: 2k words

Warnings: Swearing, Angst with a happy ending.

Masterlist

I’ll be using angst prompts:

#17, “I lost myself the day I lost you.”

#22, “I’d take our relationship back in a heartbeat.”

#30, “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

#40, “You know I still love you, right?”

It had been a cold night. A bad feeling was in the air, as if everyone knew we’d never make it out alive. It was one of those days, working for the mafia, fulfilling your destiny, as they say. If I had the choice, I wouldn’t have done any of this—the killing, the fighting, the running away. I would have had a beautiful life and a better family. I would’ve been happy. Unfortunately, I had to work with my family, kill for them, fight for them, and be unhappy for them.

It was a cold night indeed. We could hear the bugs singing and fireflies lighting up the dark night. There was fog, if I remember correctly. Yes, there was. I was surrounded by my family and the rest of our mafia members. The ten of us stood around our enemies shelter, their house, hidden in the middle of the woods. We had found them a couple of days prior, deciding we needed to attack them first.

I remember walking slowly towards the house, crouching behind tall herbs. It was quiet; the only sound we could hear was our steps in the wet grass. I looked to my right, and I remember seeing him.

Oh, my dear Anthony, the light of my life. His blonde hair stood out in the dark, and his blue eyes looked right back at me. We had met a couple of years ago, when he joined my family’s team. Just like me, he was following his relatives orders, not liking the line of work we were bound to. I remember the first time I saw him and how mesmerized I was. His fluffy blonde hair, his deep blue eyes, his rosy cheeks—everything about him made me immediately fall in love. He was a bit taller than I was, making me look up at him like he was a god. He was beautiful.

Over the next few years, we got to know each other better. He spent our days together, followed our families together, comforted each other through hard times, and we were attached at the hip. I would lie if I said I didn’t fall madly in love with him. Unfortunately, the 40s weren’t swell enough to accept us, two men, being in love with each other. So we never said so. It was obvious, though; he cared for me as much as I cared for him.

So that night, that damned night, when our oh-so genius plan failed, when the enemies attacked us before we even had the time to draw our weapons, I knew I had to say something to him. I remember trying to make my way up to him through the bullet rain. That is when it hit me. Right through the spine and the stomach. Fuck.

I saw Anthony’s eyes widening as I fell into the tall grass. It all happened in slow motion. He threw himself down and made his way up to me, cradling me in his arms, tears threatening to fall on his cheeks. He was afraid.

“It’s okay.” I tried to lift my hand to his cheek. I think I did. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me, it’s alright.” I gave him a weak smile, and so did he, his tears staining his cheeks.

And everything went black, as black as the night sky.

That’s what happened; well, that’s how I remember it happening. My death. It was a lifetime ago, but sometimes it still felt like yesterday. I remember his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my arm, trying to make my death as painless as possible. I am forever glad the last thing I saw was his beautiful face.

I hope he lived a beautiful life after my passing. Or, well, at least I hope he lived. I have no idea when, how, or where he died. I don’t know if he’s in hell or in heaven. I hope he is in heaven, living his afterlife in peace, but a part of me wished he’d be down here in hell.

I got used to living alone in this shithole; I had to anyway. I spent most of my days working, trying my best to earn money to survive. I often spent that money on drinks, trying to solve all my problems by forgetting them for a short while. Tonight was no different; I was sitting at the bar of a shitty club. The music was awful, I cursed whoever chose to play some of these tasteless tracks. I stared at the bottom of my drink, silently hoping the creepy bartender, who has been giving me weird looks since I arrived, didn’t spike my drink.

I had very few friends down here in hell. Most of them have families and important duties to take care of. None of them knew just how much I was struggling to live here, to be happy, and to have a good afterlife. I was desperate, I needed a good friend, or at least someone who would understand me.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by a loud, crashing noise right beside me. I turned my head just in time to see a pink figure jump across the bar to tackle the bartender.

“Did you fucking spike my drink?” I heard the pink figure shout about two inches from the bartender’s face, holding his collar with his right hand, or more like one of his four hands. “You fucking…drugged me!” His speech was slurred. He definitely was not sober, and if he told the truth, he was drugged too.

The bartender pushed him away, making him stumble back. “I did not!” The bartender gestured, almost knocking on my drink in the process. I grabbed the glass, finishing its contents in one swift sip.

“There’s no need to fight, gentlemen.” I spoke up, trying to break the tension between the two. I put my hand on the pink man’s shoulder; he was much taller than me. “Come on, I’ll get you some help.” I tried to reason with him, obviously, he was scared. He glared at me, his eyes staring at mine, one white, one black. I took one of his arms and led him through the front door. “Where do you live? I’ll help you home.” I asked.

“You’re the one who…asked him to spike my drink, huh? If you wanted to take advantage of me, you could’ve just asked.” He brushed his fluffy bangs out of his face. I looked back at him with a soothing smile on my face. “I’m not trying to take advantage of you…uh” I hesitated; I didn’t know his name. “My name is Angel.” His speech was slurred. “Alright then, Angel, if you want me to, I’ll help you home.” I offered him my hand, to which he clung, to steady his sloppy steps. We walked for a bit to where I assumed was his home, all the while exchanging small talk.

I noticed Angel had been leading me to the famous Hazin Hotel. Oh Lord, please don’t tell me he lives there. “You’re staying at the hotel?” I asked, a bit hesitant. “Yeah, yeah, I was forced to; my friend, Charlie, thinks I can rehabilitate my soul. Ha!” He laughed at the thought. “You don’t think you can redeem your soul?” I laughed with him. “Absolutely not!” He crossed all four arms. “This body was made for sex, Toots! There is no way I’ll ever be a sweet angel!” He stumbled a bit due to the alcohol in his system. “Steady, we’re almost there!” I encouraged him by giving him my hand for him to grab again. He was definitely a funny guy.

We made our way up to the hotel, the path seeming endless. He waddled in, keeping the door open for me, but when I didn’t enter, he turned around, giving me a puzzled look. “You’re sure you want me to come in? I don’t want to bother you.” I fidget with my hands. I definitely wanted to help him, but I did not want to deal with everyone else who might stay at this hotel. “Oh, come on, you’re no bother! Everyone else is probably asleep by now.” He let go of the door when I stepped in. I noticed his Italian accent, and I loved that…

He walked up the stairs, holding the railing with both his right hands to steady himself. I stayed behind him in case he stumbled down. When we arrived in front of his room, he opened the door, and I hesitated again, not wanting to overstep. His room was decent, even nice. I barely had the time to process my surroundings when I heard the tap water in the bathroom sink. Angel leaned over the sink to try and drink. “Don’t you have a glass somewhere you can use?” I giggled a bit at the funny situation. “Nope!” He replied, sending water down his face. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Mh! That was good!” He mumbled a bit under his breath.

“I like your accent! Is it Italian?” My mouth asked before my brain even had the time to approve. He gave me a funny look before answering. “Yeah, my family was Italian. My real family, I mean.” He sat down on his bed, resting his arms on his thighs. “I miss my life, y’know. Wait, no, actually, I don’t. I used to work for my family, which sucked.” ‘Same…’ I wanted to answer, but I didn’t. “I wish I had lived longer, but when I really think about it, I had no reason to live…” He continued. ‘Oh, this was going to be a deep conversation’, I thought. “You know, my life was pretty much like yours; I’m afraid I used to work for my family too.” I tried to reassure him. He laughed softly. “Yeah, well, I guess you weren’t working for the fucking Mafia…” He sighed.

What? I had been looking away, but when I heard him, I turned slowly back to him. This couldn’t be right…I had to be dreaming, or maybe I misunderstood him. “When did you die?” I asked under my breath, fearing the answer. “1947, why?” He looked at me as if I were crazy.

My breath got caught in my throat. I wanted to cry, to laugh, and to jump into his arms. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him. “Anthony?!” I barely let out, wishing my eyes weren’t deceiving me. I saw his face become numb, all emotion leaving his face in the span of a second. “Y/N?” He returned.

I let out a breathy sob, tuning into his arms. He had gotten up, ready to cradle me in his arms, just like he did the day I died. I had finally found him—my love, my light, my everything. We cried for what felt like hours. I finally pulled back to look at his face. He did look different, but after all, he was still my Anthony.

“Oh, Y/N, you don’t know how I missed you; I lost myself when I lost you.” He smiled through his tears. Oh, how I love him. “I still love you, you know? All these years in hell, I tried to find myself, but I was never able to, not without you by my side. It turns out I died only a couple of weeks after you.” I didn’t hesitate this time; not afraid to cross any boundaries, I pressed my lips to his, stepping on my tiptoes. He returned my kiss eagerly, which sent butterflies through my stomach. I loved him. I pulled back a bit, leaning my forehead against his. “I’d take our relationship back in a heartbeat, if you’d let me.” I wiped the tears that fell down on my cheeks, to which he laughed. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He said.

At last, I had found my home.

///

Heya readers! Again, thank you for the request, @4ndr3ax10 , I hope you like it!

Just a reminder, I can write for multiple characters from multiple fandoms, you can find that info on my prompt list! Thank you!

#hazbin hotel #writing #angel dust #angel dust x reader #male reader

38 notes · View notes