#getting a headache just thinking about them

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ daddy kink, anxiety, reader is neurodivergent

There’s a splitting headache pounding behind your eyes. 

It’s the only thing you can focus on for the first five minutes of being awake, reconciling it with queasiness, the ache of your joints. You feel like you drank an entire vat of vodka. 

Jesus. How did you even get ho-

Oh god. 

Oh my god. 

Fragments of last night come rushing back, shattered clips out of order and full of nonsense, things that make no sense. Improbable things. 

Captain Riley dressing you in his t-shirt. 

Captain Riley holding your chin while he brushes your teeth. 

Captain Riley wiping your make up off.

Captain Riley putting you in bed. 

With him. Putting you in bed, with him. 

The fabric of your dress, black with little blue and purple flowers, catches your eye. It’s sitting neatly on top of a dresser with your bra, your shoes just below, placed side by side, and the world crashes down around you. It shifts and shudders, reality roaring into focus. 

This is his room. His house. His bed. 

Your stomach turns, nausea swelling into a wave that washes over you, forcing you from the bed to the bathroom on stumbling, heavy legs, snatching your clothes on the way, throwing them to the ground as you lean over the toilet and lose what’s in your stomach, bile and water, the burn pulling tears from your eyes. 

What did you do?

Shame rips through you like a knife, stabbing you between the ribs hard enough to make you ache. Humiliation, that’s what this is. You’re humiliated. Humiliated that you drank so much he had to take you home from the bar. Humiliated you couldn’t brush your own teeth or wash your face or change your clothes or put yourself in bed, humiliated you turned into an irresponsible, drunken mess. A burden. 

You’re in his house, his room, his bed, your secret fantasies crumbled away into one big nightmare. 

He’ll never look at you the same way again. 

You know what will happen now, of course. He’ll stop coming by the shop, or if he doesn’t, he’ll just stick to polite conversation. He won’t text you, and anything you send will be responded to with clipped, brief responses.

It always ends this way for one reason or another, but this, blacking out and making a fool of yourself, is certainly a first. 

A first you had with Captain Riley. The man you’ve spent every waking minute thinking about for months. 

Dumb. So dumb. 

You turn the sink on. Rinse and spit. Wash your hands. Splash your face with cold water, and then do it again, letting it mix with your tears, trying to use the shock of the temperature to slow your spiraling anxiety, your descent into madness.  

The fabric of your dress on your skin and the sight of his t-shirt crumpled on the ground, still warm from your body, nearly drives you to hysteria. 

You ruined it. 

Knuckles knock against the bathroom door, and then he’s calling your name. 

Your heart drops. 

The bathroom window is too small to crawl out of, but you did see a pretty big one in his bedroom. Maybe… 

“Open the door sweetheart.” You can do this. Just rip the bandaid off. Get it over with. You pull it wide, momentarily blindsided by what’s on the other side, Captain Riley in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, steam rising from a mug in his hand. A normal sized mug that for some reason, looks like a child’s toy. His gives you a once over before trapping you in his gaze, so deadly serious it keeps you rooted to the floor as he deposits the mug on the sink and pulls you close, warm palm settling on the side of your neck. “Were you sick?” 

“No.” You croak, the lie is blatantly obvious based on the smell in the bathroom alone. His eyes narrow. 

“Try again.” You can’t force yourself to say it, so you nod miserably. “Oh baby,” He tugs you into his arms, cupping the back of your head into his chest. “Why didn’t you call for me?” Jesus. Christ. He pities you. 

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

He’s being so nice, it makes it all worse. Makes the ache spread all the way to your heart where it pounds so loud you’re sure he can feel it. ‘U-uh, I… I…” 

The severity of it all hits you like a truck, hard enough to make your knees weak, and you force yourself to step back, leave the warmth and safety of his arms, his body, his smell, his… everything, before you try to disappear in it. Burrow yourself inside him, seek permanent refuge from the storm. Hide behind him like a child running from a monster. 

“I’m s-sorry about last night, th-this,” your stomach is queasy again, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “I… that was… I don’t usually drink that much, I’m… I’m sorry.” The walls are closing in, a sob so heavy you could drown in it builds in your chest, and you sink into the stark reality of what he’s probably waiting to say. It’s time to go. Get out of his house. “I’ll just… I’ll go.” You move farther of the bathroom, and he follows. 

“You’ll st-” 

“I need to go to work later, so I sh-should probably go home and get some sleep.” You’re scrambling, looking for anything that might make sense, might justify you sprinting out of this house. It’s amazing how solid your voice is, truly an impressive feat on your part, treading water in survival mode and trying to preserve a shred of dignity. “I have work. A lot of prep work. To do… later.” The uber app lights up under a stroke of your thumb. 

“Sweetheart…” he’s got his hands out now, palms open like you’re a wild animal thrashing in a trap and he’s going to free you. “Everything’s okay. You didn’t do any-” 

“I’m fine.” Your voice cracks when you cut him off. You can’t listen to him be nice to you after this. “It’s fine. But um… I-I… really do need to go.” You can’t describe the look on his face. It’s like he’s holding onto something with a shred of control, muscles in his arms tense, jaw tight. It almost looks like anger, mixed with concern, his eyes bright and focused, all of it making the edge of your vision blurry. 

He’s got you pinned. It’s all you’ve wanted. 

But now you’re standing in front of him, a mess, ashamed, horrified. 

When he says your name it’s gentle, and patient, the underlying authority in it impossible to ignore, a leash drawing your eyes up from the floor. 

Your phone chimes. 

Uber. 

“That’s my ride,” you rasp, looking away and towards the door. There’s a long moment where you think he might not let you leave, a thought that’s not frightening at all, but unexpectedly comforting. If he didn’t let you leave… if he wanted you to stay… 

He takes a very long, very deep breath, the only noise existing between the two of you until he nods and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to push you too hard yet,” he pauses, scrutiny bringing his brows together in a barely there crease, “and I can’t box you in, can I?” It doesn’t seem like a question for you, just about you, one he’s asking himself, one you do not understand at all. The hangover is liquifying your brain, and nothing is making sense. 

“I, uh… I-” His thumb presses to your bottom lip, stealing words, thoughts, logic, everything from inside you. 

“I want you to get some rest when you get home. Take a shower, eat, and text me before you go into work.” 

“O-okay. I will.” He rewards you with a smile, a small, proud smile that hangs like a blue ribbon around your neck. A shiny trophy from a soccer-roos game, a first place prize at the science fair, and for once it doesn’t feel like you’re looking out into the crowd for smiling faces that aren’t there. 

That feeling is what keeps you warm all the way home, even in the nip of brisk morning air. 

You should have gone home and slept, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. 

You went to work. 

You threw on a pair of throwaway clothes you keep in the office and tied an apron around your waist and disappeared into bakery. 

You buried yourself into whatever you could think of, four different types of cookie dough, brownie batter, massive batches of buttercream, nervous energy bubbling up in your chest and spilling out through your hands, forcing them to work, to make, again and again until you can’t possibly do anything else. 

The entire time, you ignore the world. Your headache, your stomach, the slow foot traffic out front. Weekends run on a skeleton crew and you’re never here anyway, so it’s not like anyone bothers you. 

It’s just you, an entire bag of fresh rosemary, and a mountain of flour. 

You could make rosemary focaccia every day and never get bored. It can be used for anything, eaten with anything, and- 

the dough can take a beating. 

It’s therapeutic, mixing and kneading it into pliable balls and then stretching them out onto sheet pans, chopping rosemary leaves into tiny little pieces so you can sprinkle them over the top with the olive oil. It’s easy to get lost in it, ignorant of the time slipping away, the shop out front closing, your phone rattling against the stainless steel tabletop across the room, the sun slowly sinking behind the skyline. 

You push the world away until a heavy knock sounds from the back door. 

Captain Riley is standing on the other side. He looks over your shoulder, a sweeping inspection revealing the facts of the matter, a truth that has your stomach sinking like a stone to the bottom of the sea. 

You went back on your word. 

“Hi.”  

“You didn’t go home.” You gulp. 

“No.”  He turns you around and steers you back inside. 

“You didn’t listen.” He hoists you up onto a stool at the end of your workbench.“Sit, and do not move.” 

“I-” Fingers hook under your knee, pulling it against his thigh so you’re partially spread around him, and the contact is like a drink of water in a drought. A washed out memory forces its way to the forefront of your mind. Did you know you’re so big?  “A-are you mad?” Your voice is tinny, steeped in anxiety, and his eyes soften. 

“No baby, I’m not mad. You’re learning, you’ll make mistakes.” 

“I will?” He nods. 

“My instincts are never wrong. You didn’t run off because you were uncomfortable. You ran because you were embarrassed, and that’s my fault.” He murmurs, wiping at something crusted on your cheeks. Batter. Dough. You don’t know, all you can focus on is the rhythmic rub of his palm skating up and down your leg, squeezing the flesh at your hip before traveling back down to your knee. It’s like watching a pocket watch swing in front of your face, hypnosis taking over your thoughts until the only thing left is him. “I shouldn’t have let you leave this morning but I didn’t want to box you into a corner.” There’s a bowl of raspberry filling to your left, and he swipes his thumb through it, holding the red, pulpy sweetness to your lips. “Open your mouth,” tart sugar swipes across your tongue from tooth to tooth, and he holds you open, tips your head back. You’re holding your breath, hanging on the edge of cliff, dangling, wondering if the rope will be cut, if the rug will be pulled out beneath you, scrambling to put something, anything together to make this make sense. It’s rattling through your bones, twisting you up into knots…

all of it going quiet when his mouth finds yours. Tasting. Taking. Holding your head between his hands and breathing new life into you, tongue against tongue, raspberry swirl staining you both, dying your mouths so red it could be blood. Heat turns molten and you throb, thighs trying to close instinctively, seeking contact, pressure, an alleviation to the mounting ache blooming between them. 

He pulls away and chuckles, thumb retaking its place in your mouth as he watches, studies. “My sweet girl.” You make a noise, a squeak, a little whine of pleasure. That’s you. His sweet girl. His. It makes you happier than you know how to explain. 

And then he says something that knocks the wind out of you. 

“You’re daddy’s girl, baby.” He lets it linger in the air, waiting for something, a reaction, but nothing comes except more agony between your legs, and a strange feeling of relief. “You’re mine, and I’m going to take care of you, every little piece of you, even the ones you try to hide.” Your eyes burn with tears and he wipes them away with his free hand. You wonder if you’re supposed to be disgusted, if you’re supposed to feel shame, discomfort, but none of those things are there. Only desire, relief, longing, peace. Hope. 

He wants you. He cares about you. He sees you.

Daddy’s girl. 

“Do you want that?” You nod and pull on his thumb like you’re trying to take more, and he huffs an exhale of a laugh. “Look at you, sucking on my thumb already.” He pops it free to cup your cheek, and you mourn the empty space between your teeth, leaning forward for more. More, more more- “I need the words.” 

“Yes, I want it.” Your voice doesn’t shake. You don’t stutter. It’s the strongest you’ve ever sounded. He presses his lips to yours, lingering in the kiss before holding your face in both hands, tipping your head back, bringing your eyes directly to his.

“Yes who?” You lick your lips. 

“Yes, daddy.” When you say it, it doesn’t sound foreign, or weird, or sinful. It’s right. For once in your life, your words don’t feel clumsy or stupid or mixed up. They just are. What you want to say, what you meant to say. 

“Yes, daddy. I want it.” 

[aninipanin1]

Lap pillows with Isagi? (I can imagine the rest of the guys getting jealous)

WHY HIM?

Notes: RAHHH I love Isagi so much, my loml, hope you enjoy!

"What the hell?!"

"Hm? Did you say something, Yukimiya-san?" You asked, tilting your head at the sudden outburst from the brunette player. You were busy tapping on your tablet, answering emails and other chores you were meant to finish as you ate in the canteen.

It was yet another day in Blue Lock, and the cafeteria was still empty except for you and Isagi until Yukimiya entered the cafeteria and found you sitting on a chair. Oh, but it definitely was not the one that caught his attention. Instead, his eyes glared at the slumbering striker that used the rest of the chairs as some sort of bed, with his head on your lap.

It definitely pissed him off, especially with how Isagi had his arms wrapped around your waist while sleeping away on your lap.

"How long has been here?"

"Oh, you mean Isagi-san? He was having a headache earlier, so I said he could sleep on me if he wanted to. So he did."

"Did he now?"

He swore to god that the veins on his forehead were so close to popping. What the hell was that bastard thinking? The shameless audacity to do this was just appaling to the brunette.

Okay, maybe it was because of the green envy running on his veins because he knows he does not have the guts to do this to you (he has a reputation as the gentleman to uphold) but damn, he did not know thag Isagi can be this...upfront.

Now, maybe it was you who offered to do this. It would not be surprising with your empathetic and caring nature, but are you thag clueless and oblivious, that you can let a random guy rest his head on top of your thighs.

"Damn, Isagi..."

He looked to be comfortable with it, too, softly snoring away and face nearly burying his face on your stomach.

It did not take long before the other guys also entered the cafeteria, and at first, it was all good and peaceful, probably because the exhaustion of practice wore them out. Though, they have yet to see the spectacle Yukimiya was currently glaring at.

But of course, it did not take long before the players searched for you. There you were, sitting peacefully, eyeing your tablet while eating, and on your lap was one Isagi...oh.

Oh.

Oh.

"What the fuck?" Barou let out the coldest curse he ever mustered out as he took in what he was seeing.

"Yeah, what the fuck indeed." Niko blinked, glaring at the slumbering raven haired striker.

"Am I the only who has the urge to grab his hair and drag him out of his position?"

"Nope. Do it, no balls." Otoya answered a pissed off Karasu, who looked about ready to jump someone.

"I think you guys are overreacting..." Nagi pouted, feeling jealous as well, but seeing as he always finds himself resting on your thighs when he is feeling extra lazy, he was not as worried as the others were.

"No, we're not. Isagi is dead." Reo said, not even paying attention that it was his turn to get his food from the machines.

"Y/n-chan! What happened with Isagi?" Bachira hopped to the seat next to you, seeing as the others were still too stunned to overtake it (they would always fight for the chairs closest to you, its like a whole Olympic game itself, believe me).

"Hm? Isagi-san was not feeling well, so I let him rest here!" And as if you could not make them anymore jealous, your hand found itself patting and massaging Isagi's hair to try and help relieve any left over pain from his headache even if he is still asleep.

The whole cafeteria was quiet. It is much too quiet than it usually is. But if you could only stop being oblivious for once, the hawk like glare everyone was giving Isagi was noise enough to scare and bother someone who has mental and common stability.

Too bad most of the Blue Lockers do not have that.

"He must have saved the world to be this damn lucky." Chigiri rolled his eyes, before continuing to eat his meal.

"Are we even sure that the headache is real or its just a ploy of his." Aiku doubted. Damn, now he wants to know how it feels to also lay his head on your thighs.

"Dunno, that's unlike Isagi. But still, no forgiveness on him. Traitor." Hiori sassed. Oh, he is definitely getting back at him at practice when he feels supposedly better.

"Oh, wait. Isagi-san, wakey, wakey. You need to eat to better your headache." You said in a whisper, gently shrugging the boy's shoulder.

With a groan, Isagi opened his eyes before standing up, still a bit groggy from his sleep. As he adjusted, you took that time to get him his food as quick as you can before putting it in front of him on the desk.

"Here, eat up! Say 'ahh'." You raised up a chopstick of pork to him to which the boy blushed at, before shyly accepting the pampering treatment.

"Now I wanna be sick. Come on, someone sneeze on me." Lorenzo commented from another table, moving Niko by his shoulders urging the boy to do something as if he knows how to make someone intentionally sick in the first place.

"Wifey material. For real, for real." Shidou blabbered, being stopped by literally Karasu and Nanase from going over to you and Isagi and doung whatever the weird demon had in his mind.

"Feed me too, Y/n-nie!" Charles hopped from his seat to where you are, which pissed off Rin so much he started chanting some curses and insults under his breath that he looked like he was summoning dozens of malevolent spirits.

"Um...okay, Charles-san. But maybe after Isagi-san, since he is sick." You happily accepted, although a bit confused as to why he wants you to feed him too.

"No one is stopping me from stomping on Charles."

"Kunigami no-"

"Kaiser-san, please don't bully Isagi-san. He was not feeling well earlier." You frowned at the German striker who is once again, acting like the cliche mean girl towards Isagi who just glared back at the man.

"Oh, no. Listen, häschen, I have a score to settle with little Yoichi here." Kaiser, who was not present earlier at lunch, heard what happened through word of mouth, and needless to say, he was jealous and pissed that his number one rival in the sport, is also his number one rival in another area.

"Leave me alone, Kaiser."

"How about you do that first with Y/n? Not be a creep?" The blonde striker retorted back with a smug smile on his face. The rest of the Bastard players just entered the field and did not even blimk when they saw Isagi and Kaiser fighting again.

It was another ordinary Wednesday for the German Stratum.

Meanwhile, you just looked at the tension between the two with confusion, trying your best to understand what they are even arguing about again.

'Is this what they call sexual tension? Well, do they even swing that way?'

ADDITIONAL TIME:

"Repeat what I said again, Y/n." Chris smiled, coaxing the girl who looked at him with understanding and determination to obey his words.

"No man is ever worthy of me. Especially hormonal football teenagers. And...um...what was after that?"

"You...?"

"Oh! I deserve someone who is a man who will take care of me well, instead! And if I don't find one, its better for me to be a single, free lady."

"That's my kid!" The blonde coach laughed loudly, patting your head as you smiled back at him, happy that you pleased your mentor and father figure.

Growing up, your father was not the best paternal guidance you had. He does not care about your emotional and psychological needs, only there to improve your intelligence. He never taught you life lessons about the world and how to survive its cruelty.

But now, it seems like you have many father figures (and a maternal figure) to learn the things you were never taught about before. So of course, you paid the utmost attention to the coaches' words and obey them as best you could.

"You're dooming Y/n to a lonely life?" Snuffy raised an eyebrow at Chris, a little doubtful and suspicious of the English man's words.

"Oh, come on! As a man who has been a teen, I know how most teens' minds work. They have to learn how to be a man first in order to treat the princess right. And I'll be the one to make sure of that!" Chris retorted at the Ubers' coach, which just led to Snuffy sighing before patting your head as well.

"He is right at some points. But don't take most of his advice too seriously."

"Hey!"

I know its short guys but pls bear with me I am experiencing writer's block again rahhhh. I think its because its my summer break and my mind is wired to just sleep and scroll lmaoo. Hope yall enjoyed this still though

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[futbolfatale]

Origin Story: Morning After

Pairing: Alpha Alexia Putellas/Omega Reader, Omega Mapi León/Omega Reader, Alpha Ingred Engen/Omega Reader, Omega Ona Battle/Omega Reader

Summary: You run into Maddie after class luckily Alexia is there to save you.

Okay, maybe going to the after-party was a stupid idea you stumble your way to your 7 am lecture with a pounding headache and an ache in your cunt. You left Mapi’s apartment at 5 and caught a cab to get to your apartment so you could change and get to class on time.

There is no doubt that you reek like them but you didn't have time to shower and get to class on time. Leaving early had the added benefit of avoiding any awkward conversations since they didn’t know where you went to school and you hadn’t exchanged numbers with any of them. Surely they wouldn’t want to see you again after last night. You can’t help but wonder what life would be like if you were with them as unbelievable as that is. How happy you would be if you had always had a special connection to the omegas in your life and this pack has two it's like heaven for you.

Your lectures wrap up about four hours later and you trail out into the hall trying to avoid Maddie like the plague. But her lily and patulio scent hits you like a brick wall making you stop in your tracks. it seems your efforts are for nothing as Maddie rounds the corner walking directly toward you. So of course you like any normal person turn and start speed walking away from her. “Are you seriously running away from me right now?” She growls snatching your wrist. “Oh sorry Maddie I didn’t see you.” you smile fakely at her. “You owe me I can’t believe you just abandoned me at the game you could have at least helped me out” She glances down at her sweats and your eyes naturally follow. “I don’t believe I owe you anything” You try to pull away but her grip stays strong. She pulls your hand to palm her cock through her sweat and you bite back bile.

“Bebita there you are” a voice down the hall calls at you the strong scent of old spice filling the hall. “Oh, so you're a slut just not for me” Maddie spits. “Get your hands off my omega,” Alexia growls she grabs Maddie’s wrist holding it so hard you fear it might snap. “And who do you think you are” Maddie tries to pull away but can’t and a look of fear crosses her face. Alexia just pushes her away and pulls you behind her and out of the school quickly. “How did you know I was here,” You ask as Alexia helps you into her car. 

“I made some call Mapi and Ona were so das when They woke up so I promised to come find you and let them tell you how much of a bad girl you are.” She leans across you to buckle your seatbelt and her scent overwhelms you. “Im the bad girl’ you ask slightly annoyed with her. “You left without saying anything. It won’t be safe for you by yourself anymore.” Alexia warns as she pulls out of the parking lot. It hits you that you are in a car with this woman you barely know this is the beginning of every kidnapping. “Maybe I should go” You try to pull on the door but it’s childlocked.

“Wherever you want to go I’ll take you but you can’t go alone.” her eyes never once leave the road as she speaks. “And why can’t I go alone” You say with some bite your scent no doubt turning sour. “The paparazzi will be all over you pictures from the party are all over. Plus I wouldn’t be surprised if my pups were already in you.”She smirks and it makes you want to bite her and not in a sexy way. “I can’t have your pup. I can't have anyone pup im in school full time” You try to open the door again to no avail. “Mapi and Ona can’t have pups till they retire. We need you” Alexia’s voice has turned to a needy whine. “So you want me to be a baby maker”

“No, I want you to be our omega, and pups would be an added bonus. Just see if you like it one week. If you hate it, you can go back to school, and we will leave you alone,” Alexia promises. “ I can’t not go to school; I’ll lose my scholarship.” You are over this whole conversation, but she doesn’t seem to be letting it go. “ I will sponsor your school, please. Just try that's all im asking you.” Alexia looks like a kicked puppy and you can’t kick her again. “Fine one week”.

[chroniclesofskz]

Virgin Boss

Y/N was a young woman with a penchant for the unpredictable. Her bright blonde hair fell in loose waves down her back, framing a face that was equal parts mischief and innocence. She had a way of lighting up a room with her infectious laugh and the sparkle in her ocean eyes. Tonight was no different. The neon lights of the bustling city outside the bar were reflected in her eyes as she threw her head back, letting out a giggle that was a bit too loud for her own ears. Her friends had left hours ago, unable to keep up with her insatiable appetite for fun. But Y/N was just getting started.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, interrupting her latest dance move. She fished it out, squinting at the screen. It was a message from her boss, Mr. Bang. The sight of his name sent a strange thrill through her. He was known for being a cold, demanding CEO, but tonight, she felt invincible. The whiskey in her system had loosened her tongue and her inhibitions. With a devilish grin, she typed out a reply that would normally make her cringe. "You're such a virgin who needs to get laid," she sent, and hit send without a second thought. Her giggle turned into a cackle as she chugged the last of her drink and slammed the glass on the counter.

The next morning, she woke up with a pounding headache and a mouth that tasted like a frat house floor. The memories of the previous night were hazy at best. She stumbled into work, trying to piece together the events of the night before. It was only when she walked into the office that she remembered her text to Mr. Bang. Panic set in, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. She hoped he wouldn't bring it up.

But of course, he did. His office door was open, and she saw him leaning back in his chair, scrolling through his phone. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, a smirk playing on his lips. He beckoned her over, and she felt the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders. "Good morning, Y/N. Did you enjoy your… enlightening evening?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement. She gulped, her mind racing to come up with an excuse. But before she could say anything, he handed her a glass of water and some painkillers. "You look like you could use these," he said, his eyes scanning her body, taking in the tightness of her skirt and the way her blouse clung to her in all the wrong places.

Her hangover fog lifted slightly as she took the offered pills, her cheeks still on fire. "Thank you, Mr. Bang," she murmured, trying to compose herself. He leaned back, his fingers steepled under his chin. "You know, I've been thinking," he began, his voice dropping to a purr, "about what you said last night." Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. "What I need," he continued, "is someone to show me the ropes."

He stood up, and she watched in horror as he stalked towards her, the power dynamics in the room shifting palpably. His hands landed firmly on the chair arms, caging her in, and she could feel the heat of his body mere inches from hers. He leaned down, and she could see the hunger in his eyes as they traveled from her eyes to her lips. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, mingling with the faint scent of his desire. "If I'm such a big virgin," he whispered, his breath hot on her neck, "why don't you do something about it?"

Her heart was racing now, a mix of fear and excitement sending waves of heat through her body. She didn't know what she'd gotten herself into, but she couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through her at his words. Her eyes darted to his, and she saw the challenge in them. He was calling her bluff, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to play this dangerous game. But something inside her, something primal and wild, urged her to accept it.

He stepped back and locked the door, the click echoing through the now silent room. His movements were deliberate, each step calculated to build the tension. As he approached the window, she watched him, her breathing shallow and rapid. He drew the blinds one by one, shrouding them in darkness. The only light now was the faint sunlight, the city outside, casting little cracks of sun across the floor. When he turned to face her again, she could see the outline of his muscular frame, the contours of his face highlighted by the dim light.

"Mr. Bang," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I didn't mean—"

"Oh, but I think you did," he cut her off, his smirk deepening. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to trace the curve of her jaw, his touch sending electric currents down her spine. "Or are you just playing coy with me?"

Y/N's eyes widened, and she swallowed hard, trying to form words that wouldn't betray the sudden ache between her legs. The way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing that mattered in the world, was intoxicating. His fingers slid down to her neck, and she could feel the pulse racing there. "Mr. Bang," she began again, her voice barely a whisper.

He didn't let her finish. With a feral growl, he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Shh, princess," he murmured, his hand tightening around her mouth. "You're going to shut up and take it like a good girl." His words sent a thrill through her, and she felt a gush of wetness between her thighs. Before she could process what was happening, he crouched down and ripped her shirt open, the buttons flying everywhere.

Her breasts were now exposed, the white lace of her bra the only barrier between her and his hungry gaze. He took a moment to appreciate the sight, licking his lips before he tore the bra off in one swift motion. The cool air hit her hardened nipples, making her gasp. He took one in his mouth, sucking hard and leaving a red mark, claiming her as his. The sensation was so intense that she could feel it all the way to her core. The sound of her own moan was muffled by his hand, which was now pressing against her mouth.

Mr. Bang stood up abruptly, his towering presence making her feel even more vulnerable. "Now, stand up," he ordered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. Y/N complied, her legs wobbly from the combination of fear and arousal. He grabbed her arms, his grip firm and unyielding, and pushed her down onto his desk. The cold glass sent a jolt of sensation through her body, making her wetness even more pronounced.

Her heart raced as he unzipped her skirt with a deliberate slowness that made her squirm. She watched the fabric slide down her legs, pooling at her ankles, leaving her in just her white lacy thong. He took in the sight of her barely concealed pussy, his eyes dark with lust. His hand reached out and traced the line of the thong, his fingertips grazing her wetness. The anticipation was unbearable, her breath hitching in her chest. "You think I'm a virgin?" he whispered, his voice thick with challenge. "I'll show you just how much of a virgin I really am."

With a swift motion, he yanked her hands behind her back, looping his necktie around her wrists and binding them together tightly. The restriction sent a jolt of excitement through her body, her breasts pushing up against the desk as she tried to get comfortable. The sound of his belt buckle unclasping and the metallic clink as it hit the floor made her heart skip a beat. He stepped closer, his crotch now mere inches from her face. "Look what you've done to me," he said, his voice strained with need.

In the reflection of the mirror that lay in the corner, she caught a glimpse of his massive erection straining against his tailored trousers. The realization of its size hit her like a punch to the gut. "Mr. Bang," she murmured again, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and desire. He leaned down, his smirk widening as he heard the doubt in her voice. "Don't worry, princess," he whispered. "I'll make sure it fits."

With a swift yank, he pulled her panties aside, and before she could protest, his cock was pressing against her slick entrance. The head of his cock nudged at her, and she gasped at the intrusion, her eyes wide with shock. "Take it," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Take it like the good girl you are."

With one swift thrust, he was inside her, filling her up completely. The pain was intense, a stark contrast to the pleasure that had been building inside her. She screamed, the sound muffled by his sock as he stuffed it into her mouth, his hand wrapping around her hair to hold her head in place. Her eyes watered, but she bit down on the fabric to keep from making too much noise. Her body was his now, and she knew she had to submit to his every whim.

He slapped her ass, the sound echoing through the room as he whispered, "Naughty girl, I told you to shut the fuck up." His grip on her hair tightened, and she felt the sting of his slap, the heat spreading across her skin. The pain was a strange mix of punishment and pleasure, making her cunt clench around him. She never knew she had a kinky side, but here she was, her body responding to Mr. Bang's dominance like it was made for this.

Her legs felt like jelly, trembling with each deep thrust he gave her. The pressure building inside her was unbearable, and she was sure she was going to come any second. His other hand found her clit, and he began to rub it with a fierce intensity that sent waves of pleasure crashing over her. The sensation was too much, a symphony of pain and ecstasy that she didn't know she could handle. But she was going to try, for him.

Suddenly, she felt a release, her body convulsing as she squirted all over his cock. The wetness was a stark contrast to the dryness of the room, the sound of her juices hitting the floor echoing through the silence. He pulled out with a grunt, his cock glistening with her arousal. He took a moment to admire the sight of her dripping onto the floor, the puddle growing larger with each passing second. "I'm not finished with you yet, bitch," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

Without warning, he slammed back into her, the sensation of his thick member filling her up making her eyes roll back in her head. She couldn't believe how much she enjoyed this, the feeling of being used by her boss, the man she had always feared and desired. His thrusts grew harder, faster, more punishing. She could feel every vein, every ridge of him, as he claimed her in a way no one else ever had. The pain was intense, but it only served to heighten her pleasure.

Her moans grew weaker, muffled by the fabric in her mouth, as she felt his grip tighten on her hair. His grunts grew louder in her ear, his breathing more ragged. She knew he was close, and the thought of his release made her clench around him, eager to feel his hot cum fill her up. Her legs were trembling uncontrollably, and she could feel the desk biting into her skin, but she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the man fucking her into oblivion.

With one final, powerful thrust, she felt him spasm inside her, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her quivering cunt. The warm, salty liquid filled her, and she moaned in pleasure as she felt the heat of his seed against her walls. He held himself deep within her for a moment, his breathing slowing before he pulled out with a wet sound. The feeling of emptiness was almost painful, but she knew it was only temporary.

Y/N lay there, gasping for air, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Tears streamed down her cheeks, not from pain but from the intensity of the experience. The room was still, the only sounds their heavy breaths and the rustling of their clothes. The sock in her mouth was wet with her saliva, and she felt a mix of relief and disappointment when he pulled it out.

Mr. Bang leaned back, his chest heaving, and she could see the satisfaction in his eyes as he looked at her. "Don't ever test my abilities again," he murmured, his voice still filled with the raw power that had just claimed her. He let go of her hair, and she felt her head fall heavily onto the desk. She didn't have the strength to hold it up anymore, her body feeling like it had been wrung out and then filled with something entirely new.

For a few moments, she just lay there, her body pulsing with the aftermath of what had just transpired. The coldness of the desk against her skin was a stark contrast to the warmth that still lingered between her legs. She could feel the stickiness of their combined juices, and the scent of sex hung heavily in the air. It was a scent that was both alien and thrillingly intimate, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

Mr. Bang stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers. He bent down, his hands gently but firmly grabbing her hips and turning her over. She gasped at the sudden movement, her legs still unsteady from the intensity of her climax. He knelt down, his hands running over her bare skin as he wiped her clean with a warm cloth. The sensation was almost too much to bear, her pussy feeling overly sensitive. She winced at the slight pain but couldn't deny the way his tender ministrations sent a new wave of desire through her body.

Once he was satisfied, he stood up and zipped her skirt back up, the sound seeming overly loud in the quiet office. He handed her a clean shirt, his smirk never fading. "Wear this," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. She took it, her eyes still glazed over with lust. She hadn't realized just how much she'd enjoyed the encounter until now.

As she pulled on the shirt, Mr. Bang took a moment to appreciate the view of her half-dressed form. The sight of her bare, reddened skin, the way her chest heaved with each breath, was enough to make him want to take her again. But he knew better than to push his luck. For now. He watched her with a hunger in his eyes that she couldn't miss, and she felt a thrill knowing she had that power over him.

When she had herself covered, Mr. Bang stepped closer, his hand wrapping around her waist. He pulled her into him, his grip firm but gentle, and leaned down to kiss her deeply. His tongue sought hers, his teeth grazing her bottom lip in a possessive bite that sent a shiver through her. She moaned into his mouth, unable to resist the pull of his dominance. He tasted of mint and power, a heady combination that made her knees weak.

"Same time next week," he murmured against her lips, the promise in his eyes unmistakable. She nodded, her heart racing as she felt his smirk press into her cheek. This was a game she hadn't expected to play, but now that she had tasted the thrill of it, she was hooked. He released her, his hand lingering for a moment before dropping away.

Y/N stumbled out of Mr. Bang's office, her legs still wobbly from the intense encounter. The cold slap to her ass echoed down the hallway, and she couldn't help but let out a cheeky yelp. The sound of his deep, satisfied chuckle followed her out, sending another wave of heat through her body. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, his silhouette framed by the light from his desk lamp, and she felt a strange sense of pride. He had claimed her, marked her, and she had liked it.

[hollyoongs]

⤷ THANK YOU, SPIDEY!

시놉시스 ┆ tasm!𝙟ake, ─────⠀f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +4.5k ꒰ ⌗ fluff, angst and an attempt of crack ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

It was one of those days where everything seemed to conspire against you; you knew it was going to be a rough day since you actually fell off the bed when your fifth alarm sounded, alerting you that you were going to be late. You watched your left wrist as you trudged through the bustling streets of New York City, sighing in relief as you noticed you still had time to arrive just in time.

Your camera bag felt heavy on your shoulder, but you blamed it on the fact that you couldn't shake off the feeling of exhaustion that clung to you like a stubborn shadow, in addition to the sweltering heat of the summer sun that only added to your irritation as you made your way to the Daily Bugle, where you were interning as a photographer.

Now, you actually liked your internship, despite the chaos that often unfolded around you. You have always liked capturing moments with your one and only camera, one that was a gift from your grandfather before passing away; he always told you that those pictures will always tell a story, freezing time with just the press of a shutter. But days like today tested your patience.

You finally entered the building, slipping past the crowded desks and skillfully dodging reporters that were frantically typing away at their articles; you could already hear Jameson ranting about something—but this time, it was someone. The new and masked hero in town, Spider-Man, was doing as he had usually done for the past 2 weeks.

Your possible future boss, Mr. Jameson, was notorious for his gruff demeanor and demanding nature, and today seemed to be no exception, as he barked orders at the staff. You adjusted the strap of your camera bag, rolling your shoulders as you approached your friend, Jay, who looked one bad headline away from quitting. When you sat on his desk, which was thankfully next to each other, he gave you a tired smile while handing you a bagel.

You gave it a bite and rolled your eyes in delight. “Don’t say anything; I brought another extra because I also skipped breakfast today.”

"You’re an angel… Rough already?"

"And it's not even 9 a.m." Jay spat in anger; you opened your bag to give him some of the jelly you always carry around. He took them slightly happier, tearing the packaging off and licking his lips before talking again. "He's now decided to put stupid challenges on everyone here. I spoke with his secretary, and she says he's getting jealous of the other newspaper company since they took the #1 place from us."

Jameson's screams got louder, and your neck turned to take a look at how he was walking to the employee launch. “Speaking of the devil.”

"Good luck." You raised an eyebrow at his words, looking back and forth at him and Jameson. “Hide the bagel.”

“What do you mean by ‘good luck’?” You whispered, but your expression spoke louder of the panic you started to feel.

"Ah, there you are," Mr. Jameson said. You braced yourself before turning to face him, a small smile plastered on your lips.

“Good morning, Mr. Jameson.”

"I've got a special assignment for you."

The word “special” itself was already making your brain think about any crazy options, feeling your heart sink at his words, knowing that whatever task he had in store would likely be thankless unless it benefited his pockets, just like Jay said in the past. But you nodded, steeling yourself for whatever was to come.

“May I know what you have in mind?”

"I want you to get me a picture of Spider-Man," he said bluntly, with no filter and zero emotions whatsoever.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at his request. Spider-Man? The one that is the talk of the town? You opened and closed your mouth, struggling to form words that were nice. Jameson arched an impatient brow, his foot tapping against the tiled floor that was causing you a headache.

“Well? You got a problem with that?”

You glanced at Jay, who was suddenly very invested in his bagel, offering no help. Turning back to Jameson, you forced yourself to nod. “No, sir, just… How exactly do you expect me to find him? We have no—"

“You’re a photographer, aren’t you? Use your damn head! That wall-crawling menace shows up all over the damn city. He isn’t shy about swinging around like he owns the place!” After that screaming session, he rubbed his temple, as if you were the one giving him a headache when it was the complete opposite. “I don't care how you do it—just get me a photo clear enough for the front page, or you'll be out of your ear."

And just like that, he turned on his heel and stomped off, barking at another poor intern about coffee.

Jay let out a low whistle. “Damn, he really hit you with that assignment, huh?”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “What am I supposed to do? Just wander the city with my camera and hope Spider-Man swings by? Or maybe make an attempt of suicide to see if he can save me?”

“Wow, let’s not go that far, shall we?” He said, rolling his chair to your desk with a concerned face after seeing you actually think about your last question to attract the hero. “But I do think you just have to wait on the streets.” Jay shrugged, shoving the rest of his bagel into his mouth.

Sure, you’d seen Spider-Man in grainy photos on social media and extremely blurry clips on the news, but actually tracking him down? Getting a clear shot? That made a wave of panic wash over you.

The hours passed slowly, and 7 o'clock of the night finally arrived, which made you fly to the only place you were sure that you would be comfortable at the moment, Jake’s place.

More than his place, Jake has always been your safe haven, ever since you were kids. You still remember the first time you met—he was sitting alone in the playground, sniffling quietly while being bullied by a group of kids; the sight alone made you leave your friends behind for a moment to march right up to the ringleader and sink your teeth into his arm. You still remembered how Jake looked at you like you had just saved his entire world.

Since that day, you two became inseparable. He was the first person you’d call when you had good news and the first to show up when you needed a shoulder to lean on. He knew all your quirks, and in return, you knew him just as well. You knew the way he would start biting the straw of a drink he was having unconsciously, the way he always made sure you walked on the inside of the sidewalk, the way he’d drop everything the second he felt you needed him. Just like you need right now.

Work was way more stressful than usual, and that was reflected in your tensed shoulders that were screaming for a massage, but that would need to wait; the elevator reached the floor you picked, and you pushed the button to announce yourself. To your surprise, you found yourself with Ni-Ki.

“The del—oh, it’s just Y/N.” Before you could speak, he closed it again, soon hearing your name louder with a surprised tone, He opened the door again with a smile. You blinked at Ni-Ki, still processing the interaction. “Y/N! Hey! What are you doing here?” He leaned on the doorframe like nothing happened.

You squinted at Ni-ki, arms crossed. “Did you just try to shut the door at me?”

Ni-Ki let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “What? No, no. That was just… muscle memory!”

“Muscle memory?” You deadpanned, and he nodded.

“Yeah! You know there are these random people knocking on the doors to bother, and I just always happen to be here when that happens, and I just… close the door.” He did some mimicry to what he said, but you weren’t buying it.

Your eyes flicked past him, trying to catch a glimpse inside, but Ni-Ki moved along his head. “Is Jake home?”

“Uh, nope! I mean, yeah, but, uh… he’s doing… something. You should probably come back later.”

“Right.” You took a step forward, but he quickly blocked your path, his leg and arm on the other side of the doorframe. You sighed. “Nishimura Ri-Ki!”

“Yes, ma’am?” He said, his voice clear like he was a soldier as he stood normally.

“I had a horrible day at work to the point that I will actually cry myself to sleep today due to the amount of work I have to do plus an almost impossible task Mr. Jameson gave to me. I just need to talk to you two to make this day less miserable.”

“And this is why we will go out for boba, my treat!”

Your eyes narrowed further. “Ni-Ki. Move.”

“No can do.” He leaned against the doorframe again, arms stretched wide.

“I’m literally just here to see both of you and to take a nap.”

“And I’m literally just making sure you don’t—uh, I mean, that you’re comfortable. Jake doesn’t want visitors right now, does he?”

You rubbed your forehead, already having enough. “I come over all the time, and Jake’s never cared before. What’s really going-”

“He’s touching himself!” Neither you nor he expected that sentence, your eyes opening wide at the statement, your cheeks getting warmer as seconds passed by. It was Ni-Ki’s turn to open his mouth, but before he could come up with another excuse, a loud thud echoed from inside the apartment, followed by a very familiar voice muttering a string of curses.

“Ni-Ki! I came!” Ni-Ki looked back and then at you, red in his face as he made a small dance.

“Good job, Jake! Glad you came! We will be right back!” His voice got a little higher, and with a panicked face and awkward laugh, he closed the door even harder than before, startling you. Soon, the noise of things falling, more curses, and somebody hitting himself with furniture was the only thing that actually kept you sane.

"Hold on a second!" A few seconds passed, and Jake was the one who opened the door. He had his hair messy; he had grey sweatpants on and a hoodie that was bigger than his usual size. "Hey lensgirl! Wow, you look tired."

“Yeah, no thanks to Mr. Jameson,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “I swear he’s actually trying to kill me with work.”

Jake fully opened the door with concern written all over his face, and that’s when you went for a hug, this time with tears going down, noticeably crying.

Jake was taken aback by your sudden display of emotion, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured softly, rubbing your back soothingly. "What happened? Why are you crying?"

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself as you entered the apartment. "It's just… work," you managed to choke out between sobs. "Mr. Jameson… He wants me to get a photo of Spider-Man for the front page, and I—I don't know how to do it. I'm so screwed, Jake."

Jake's expression softened with understanding, though you had no idea just how much he truly understood. "Hey, it's okay," he repeated, guiding you to sit on the couch. "We'll figure it out, okay? You're not alone in this."

“And you know what’s the most fucked-up part? Until this morning, I had 2 weeks to give the picture, and he randomly decided to change the deadline to Thursday. I have three fucking days.”

Ni-Ki, hearing the commotion, came to the living room, a package of donuts in his hands. He took one donut and placed the rest on the table in front of the three of you. It was a very brief moment of silence before Ni-Ki spoke after taking a bite of his dessert. "You know what? Jake can help,"

You looked up at Ni-Ki, the hand Jake had in your back getting tense. "What did you say?"

"Jake knows Spider-Man. You could get a picture like that." He snapped his fingers to emphasize the quickness, and that’s when you lost it.

"Since when?!" You practically shouted at him, and he gave a shy smile, which you loved, but not right now since your only thought at the moment was of him being friends with the hero and not telling you.

Jake shot Ni-Ki a deadly glare, but the younger boy just shrugged, taking another bite of his donut like he hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of the evening after all the excuses. You looked at Jake, and for a moment, he got lost in your eyes.

“I wouldn’t say ‘best friends,’ but… yeah.” You sat properly; your hands were now on his shoulders.

“So you know Spider-Man?”

“Uh… yes?”

“And you never told me?”

“I—well—”

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” Ni-Ki cut in. “Jake and Spider-Man are like this—” He crossed his fingers. “—so the picture? You got it.”

"Hey, your face looks awful due to the crying; how about we continue this conversation right after you clean yourself? Go to the bathroom; we will go to my bedroom." As you were protesting, Jake obligated you to go inside. The boys went straight to the room and locked it, Jake basically punching Ni-Ki for opening his mouth.

"Are you being serious?! Why did you say that?"

"You know I'm fond of her, and I can't stand her crying. And also, I'm doing you a favor; you've liked her since forever, and with this, you can make a move. And you know that she loves Spider-Man. I consider this a win."

Jake's heart raced as he processed Ni-Ki's words. He couldn't deny the truth about them. He had developed feelings for you for what felt like forever, but he never found the courage to act on them, and because of the sudden powers he got after being bitten by a spider, the dangers were too much to the point he would rather die with the secret in order to keep you safe if they get to know you’re his… something. That's how much he loved you.

Jake groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “This is not a win, Ni-Ki! This is a disaster!”

Ni-Ki flopped onto Jake’s bed, unbothered. “You’re being dramatic.”

Jake paced the room. "Okay, okay," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "But we have to be careful. She doesn't know about this, Ni-Ki. It's too risky."

Ni-Ki nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I won't say anything else, I promise. Only you have to stay cool; you get too nervous around her. I'm surprised you're not right now," he assured Jake.

"Because someone opened his mouth."

"Stop crying and be grateful. I pulled a move that you couldn't make for the past 4 years."

The door of the bedroom opens to you with your face clean; you actually had to wash your face the moment you saw your mascara falling down your cheeks through the mirror. You took a seat next to Ni-Ki and once again looked at Jake.

“Please, Jake, I need to take a picture for the front page; otherwise, I’m fired. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me the name of the person, but please.”

Jake shot Ni-Ki a glare before sighing. He couldn’t say no to you, not when you looked at him like that. But he also couldn’t risk exposing anything.

“Fine,” he relented. “I will talk to him and text you later.”

Your face lit up, smiling right away and contagiously affecting Jake with it. “Thank you so much, Jake. Really.”

Ni-Ki smirked as he watched the exchange, mouthing a silent “you’re welcome” to Jake, who simply rolled his eyes with the smile on his face when he felt small kisses on his neck.

Two days have already passed since that weird conversation and the explanation of Jake being friends with Spider-Man. It was still so odd to you, although that didn’t matter anymore when you felt your phone vibrating because of a text he sent to you.

"He’s arriving in five minutes; be ready!"

And here you were, waiting next to the entrance of the alley that was near the agreed-upon spot; it was getting late, and you could feel your heart beating fast when you saw a few guys in there, cigars in their hands, their auras as bad as how they looked. You felt a presence behind you, and you tried to move, but a hand grabbed you with enough force to pull you inside the alley.

"Hey, sweetheart," one of them said, his grip on your wrist tightened, making you wince.

“Let go of me!” You snapped, trying to yank your arm away, but another one of them stepped closer, blocking your escape.

“Shhh, relax,” another one chuckled, exhaling a puff of smoke before blowing it into your face. “We just want to talk.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you ignored the leering comments from the men in the alley. You clutched your camera bag tightly, feeling a surge of unease as you realized just how vulnerable you were in this dimly lit space.

Just as panic threatened to overtake you, a familiar sound cut through the tension—a whoosh of air followed by the distinct thud of impact. Before you could even process what was happening, Spider-Man descended from the shadows, landing gracefully in front of you with his trademark agility.

"Hey there, fellas," Spider-Man said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "I don't think the lady appreciates your company."

The men scoffed, eyeing Spider-Man with defiance and uncertainty. "And who are you supposed to be, huh?" One of them sneered, taking a step forward. You started taking your camera out of your bag, setting it up for a good shot, and taking as many photos as you could as both men focused on the hero.

Spider-Man's demeanor shifted subtly, his stance becoming more assertive as he addressed the group. "Let's just say I'm the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and I'm not too keen on seeing people hassle innocent bystanders, especially this pretty girl," he replied, his tone firm.

The men hesitated, sizing up the masked vigilante before them. They could barely move as Spider-Man sprang into action, his movements a blur of speed. All his movements were well calculated, and so were his dodges; his combat skills were even more impressive up close than seeing them on TV; he was a superhero.

It didn’t take him five minutes to leave them groaning on the ground in defeat; he effortlessly dispatched the thugs, taking a deep breath before turning to you and lightly running to the place you hid yourself.

You watched in awe as Spider-Man, his masked eyes meeting yours—at least you think they did—with a sense of warmth and reassurance. You took your camera and looked at the pictures, so many good enough to be front-page material.

"Are you okay there?" he asked, his concern evident even behind the mask.

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you in his presence and how he came to you for these pictures. "Yeah, I'm okay," you stammered, still trying to process the whirlwind of events that had just unfolded before you. You felt some drops of water falling on your face, looking up at the sky and wondering if more drops were falling. "Damn it, it's raining."

"Then let me take you out of here." Without a warning, his hand wrapped around your waist, both of your bodies covering the camera; you felt his grip tender. "Hold on tight, lensgirl," you frown at the nickname. There's only one person that could call you like that, but you couldn't think much of it as you held dear life to him as he swung you around places, screaming and closing your eyes due to the fear.

You ended up on your apartment building—on your balcony, to be more exact—and the roof kept both of you off the water. You went inside for a moment to leave the camera in your bed and return. He was hanging from the ceiling as you watched him, forcing you to believe that everything that happened in the past ten minutes was not a dream.

"Don't you want to stand up? So you don't get dizzy."

"I like it this way. Don't worry. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you."

"No problem; that's my job."

"Because you're a hero," the masked guy sighs in front of you. It was one of those that made you question if he was really tired of hearing the word or if he had something else on his mind.

"Some people don't think so." And it was true; all the articles were more fake rumors to paint him as a bad guy; even your boys wanted to paint him as an awful person, not even considering that they are writing about someone who just really wants to help everyone.

"But you are, at least I think that."

"It's nice to have a fan as pretty as you."

"Let me say thank you."

"But you already did."

"I meant the pictures, not you saving me and my job." You approached him more, feeling the raindrops falling on your face; the sound of the rain in the background gave the ambiance.

He didn’t stop you, giving you a green light and trusting you; you slowly took the mask, only revealing his lips. A shiver ran down your spine, but it wasn’t from the cold rain. Your breath hitched as you took in the sight before you—it was a shape you had seen countless times, normal, curved in a teasing smile and even forming words that had irritated and amused you several times.

Your fingers trembled as you traced his lower lip, your mind going wild. No wonder Ni-Ki and Jake got nervous; no wonder Jake was the only one that could help you with the hero; and there's no wonder why he called you "Lensgirl."

Your pulse quickened as you whispered a sentence with the name you had a sinking feeling was correct.

"Thank you, Jake," when you felt his body stiffen, you placed your lips on his. His tense body shortly after calmed, and he slowly kissed back the almost electrifying kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that felt so familiar. His fingers touched your hand in a way to ground himself, as if this moment wasn’t real unless he could feel you.

Everything made sense; all that scandal was all because he was Spider-Man, the hero you had admired from afar, and now he was the man whose lips were pressed against yours.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the kiss, the world fading away until it was just the two of you tangled together on that rooftop balcony. The rain continued to fall, a steady rhythm against the loud city, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart and the soft, almost shaky exhale Jake let out as he deepened the kiss.

The moment you decided to pull away, he rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingling in the space between you.

"Wait… how?" he steadied his voice before asking, his voice quieter now.

"You let out "Lensgirl," and I've stared at your lips too much to actually know the shape." Your lips curled into a small smirk; he finally dropped himself, taking off his mask completely, revealing his red cheeks and normal shy demeanor.

He actually searched your face for any sign of rejection. "I know it's a lot to take in," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "But I wanted to tell you, not in this way; I've got to learn to also be more careful."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached up to cup his face in your hands, sinking in his words. "It’s okay, Jake," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "I just… I never imagined…"

Before you could finish your sentence, Jake leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss; this one was slower than the previous one. He pulled you closer with his hands on your waist; your hands rested on the back of his head. He pulled away this time, his gaze darting to the side like he used to do to gather his thoughts.

He went to your hands, holding them in front of his lips. “I wanted to tell you for a long time; I wanted to confess before all of this… Spider-Man thing. But then things changed. I changed.”

You stayed silent, giving him space to vent just like you were used to when it was your turn to be the shoulder he needed to lean on.

“I didn’t think being Spider-Man would be this big,” he continued, running a hand through his damp hair in frustration. “At first, it was just helping people—stopping small crimes, saving a cat from a tree. But then the bad guys started noticing, and suddenly, it wasn’t just me anymore. I’m part of the Avengers, and I had enemies. People who would do anything to get to me. And I would rather go to war than to put you in danger.”

“Jake…”

“You don’t know how many times I wanted to just blurt it out, but my mind simply remembered what could happen. What if they found out about you? What if they used you to get to me? What if they…” His voice cracked mid-sentence. Was he that terrified of you?

You forced yourself to let go of Jake's grip on your hands, this time putting your palms on his face and grabbing his face firmly. “I know what this means now, and I’m still here. I’ll be right next to you.”

“Are you sure? There’s no turning back.”

You nodded, “I don’t want to turn back.”

With a smile on your lips and love in your heart, you leaned into Jake's embrace, letting the warmth of his touch chase away the chill of the night as you watched the city skyline glitter in the rain.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You reached up, placing your hand against his chest, right on top of the spider in his suit. “You deserve to be loved, Jake. Not just as Spider-Man, but as you. And I’m glad that I love both of them.”

He gave you a smile before hugging you tightly. "Please write good news about me."

"Don’t worry, Jay is in charge of your paper, Spidey." You took the discarded Spider-Man mask on the floor and looked at it up close. “Wow, ‘Stark Industries.’ Fancy.”

“Give that back.” He tried to reach it; you were quick enough to put it behind your back teasingly.

“Come get it, Spidey,” you said, a smile on your face, not counting that his hand will go behind you to pull you closer for a quick peck. The sudden kiss caught you off guard, your breath hitching as Jake pulled away with a smug grin.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, snatching the mask from your hands before stepping back, twirling it around his finger.

“Cheater.”

He chuckles. “Nah, that was strategy. Plus I wanted to kiss you again.”

─── MY BABY IS OUT AND FREE! if you read something similar to this around april or may of last year, no worries, it was my work too and this version have way more stuff added (plus it's way better)

𓄴 𝐓aglist (mostly moots!): @hheeluv @awqken @taeghi @caratstick @021894s @hees-love @heechwe @intromortal @dollyyun @wwooyology @ja3yun @veilstqr @httpenhoon

[surveillancy]

Can you doo boothill x reader

Where he was after the reader for they hade a really big bounty on them but right when he was about to get them they escaped?

"the bounty and the bullet" - boothill x reader

✧ ✧ ✧

the bounty on your head was enough to make even the laziest bounty hunters salivate. enough zeroes to make a man reckless, desperate. you’d lost count of how many wannabe gunslingers, corporate dogs, and dead-eyed mercenaries had come sniffing after you, thinking they’d be the one to bring in the ghost of the stars.

but boothill? he was different. he wasn’t just after the payday. he was after you.

you’d been dodging him for weeks, barely slipping through the cracks each time he came close. the bastard had an uncanny knack for knowing where you’d be, showing up just late enough to make your pulse spike but early enough to leave you no time to breathe. and this time? this time, he was closer than ever.

the old freight station was supposed to be abandoned, a place for you to lay low while the heat cooled. the air was thick with dust, rust clinging to the walls like barnacles on a dead ship. you could hear the distant hum of power lines still faintly alive, the only sign this place hadn’t been swallowed whole by time.

then came the sound you dreaded most: the jingle of spurs. slow. unhurried. a gunslinger who knew there was nowhere left to run.

"well, well," boothill drawled, his voice cutting through the silence like the edge of a well-honed blade. "ain't this a sight. finally got you penned in, darlin'."

you exhaled, already scanning for exits. the rafters were too high, the main door blocked by his imposing figure. that left the side panel... a slim chance, but better than none.

"you've been a darn headache to chase," boothill continued, stepping closer.

the dim light caught the sharp gleam of his teeth as he grinned. "ten billion credits worth o' trouble, and i gotta say, you sure wear it well."

"you here for the money?" you asked, keeping your tone level, casual. the kind of voice that had slipped through countless traps before.

"nah." he tilted his head, eyes glinting like a reticle settling on a target.

"a legend's only worth somethin' if someone's around to tell it, ain't it? hate to see yours get cut short."

a chill ran down your spine. boothill wasn’t like the others, wasn’t some ipc hound looking for a fat paycheck. he was enjoying this. the chase, the thrill, the knowledge that every second he got closer, your story became part of his.

too bad for him. you weren’t about to let yourself become a footnote in someone else’s tale.

the second his boots scuffed against the floor, you moved. a sharp feint to the right, making it look like you'd try to bolt past him. his hand twitched toward his gun, ready to pin you down...

and that’s when you really ran.

a burst of motion, straight for the side panel. you hit the latch with your shoulder, felt the metal groan before it gave way. the air outside was sharp and cold, the drop steep, but hesitation was a death sentence. you leaped without looking back.

boothill’s curse echoed behind you, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun firing. not at you, but at the door frame, sparks flying where he’d aimed just a breath too slow.

you hit the ground in a roll, feet finding purchase on the loose gravel. the engine of your stolen speeder was already humming nearby, primed and waiting. you scrambled onto it, twisting the throttle hard just as boothill stepped into the open, his silhouette framed against the flickering station lights.

for a second, just a second, you met his gaze. that shark-toothed grin was still in place, but his eyes told a different story.

you’d won this round.

but you both knew this wasn’t over.

boothill raised two fingers to his hat, tipping it in a lazy salute. "run fast, sugar," he called over the roar of your engine. "next time, i ain’t missin'."

you smirked, wind whipping past your face as you tore into the dark.

next time? maybe.

but if he wanted to catch you, he’d have to earn it.

✧ ✧ ✧

requests: open!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam would never kill a human, it's kind of a big no no and the sort of thing that gets you locked out of heaven nowadays.

But Alastor didn't die, he just got his shoulder and hip a little fucked up. No biggie.

Adam: This food is delicious.

Lucifer: Glad you like them.

When they were done with lunch Adam yawned, he was so sleepy. Using some power after not having any for a while was tiring.

They ended up on the couch with his head on Lucifer's lap and he half watched the tv show and half listened as he closed his eyes.

Lucifer sighed, angels can be scary apparently.

Adam was only defending them, so he guessed that was okay. The car was a little much but Alastor was an asshole.

He wasn't going to think too much about it. It kind of gave him a headache.

Lucifer must have fell asleep too because when he opened his eyes, Charlie was in the chair watching the tv with them.

Charlie: Oh look, the old man's awake from his nap.~

Trials of Apollo Au

@fanofstuff01 @beef-brisket

Sera tried not to throw a fit, she was too mature for such things but this was her baby. How could she not get upset?

Sera: Michael don't do this. Adams just a ba-

Michael: That's the problem, he's not!

It has been pointed out to Sera that she babies Adam, the angel of music too much. She always wanted a child but angels don't have babies the normal way.

Adam was made to replace Samuel, the fallen angel and devil down in Hell. When he opened his perfect golden eyes he took right to Sera and she knew she had to protect him from everything and everyone.

But that came at a price. Sheltering Adam like that made him naive, uncultured and lacking proper knowledge. And the fact that God made him the first gay angel meant Sera had to keep other men away from him. They only take advantage!

But now they want Adam to lead the Extermination Day army, Sera didn't understand why. He was too sweet too soft. Adam didn't have a real mean bone in his body.

Sera: He's my baby!

Michael: He needs to learn about the world and life! He can't do that with you sheltering him. He's going to earth to help a human better their life, without his powers.

Sera: WHAT!?

Michael: Or would you rather he go to Hell?

Sera winced, she didn't want either thing. She looked at her sleeping son, he didn't know what was going to happen and it wasn't fair.

Sera: No...... But no powers?

Michael: The more he helps them he'll start to get them back. Say goodbye it's time.

-

Down on earth, Lucifer and Charlie were laying in their normal dumpster watching the night sky. The brother and sister duo were about to fall asleep when they saw a shooting star.

Lucifer: Make a wish!

Charlie crossed her fingers and closed her eyes. She wished for a miracle to save them from the streets.

Charlie: Done!

That's when the shooting star...... Started coming for them!!

[lululocomo]

I wonder if MK is going to have any issues with the JTTW group.

Like, Zhu Bajie is constantly getting Wukong in trouble in the original book and that resulted in the circlet being used on the poor monkey- MK isn’t gonna let that slide. It also complicates things because Zhu Bajie reminds him of his Dadsy but this guy is NOT Pigsy and it makes MK uncomfortable to be around him.

MK is going to have some majorly complicated feelings towards Tripitaka because in the past cycle his mentor obviously thought of Tang Sanzang in a fond light but MK can’t just ignore the fact that the monk basically tortures his Dad with the circlet. Luckily, he barely sees Mr. Tang in Tripitaka because the monk acts NOTHING like how Mr. Tang did.

I think Ao Lie and Sha Wujing will be his preferred members of the JTTW group when he isn’t hanging around Wukong. Ao Lie is nice to chat with about Monkey King and Sha Wujing is similar enough to Sandy that it doesn’t pain him to hang around the water demon.

Though… Ao Lie’s magic reminds him of Mei, who he misses so so much. Mei was practically his sister, after all.

(Sorry for the long ask, I’m rambling a bit, whoops—)

dfgfdg I don't mind the rambling, no worries✨

MK just don't like Zhu Bajie at all in the beginning. like you said, seeing him will remind him of his Dadsy and make him very uncomfortable. Also him not knowing how to cook??? it's the weirdest thing of all.

But no worry! MK definitely protect his dad and side with him everytime Zhu Bajie try to mess with the monkey💪

And it's gonna take a while for MK to no longer see his Dadsy when looking ar Zhu Bajie.

For Tripitaka, well MK find the guy pretty cool, just not when he use the circlet. So he make sure the monk doesn't use it.

And Tripitaka will not have the heart to torture Wukong when MK is here- what kind of monk will just make a parent suffer in front of their child???

So yeah less headaches for our Monkey king! Yippee! 🎉

And for Ao lie and Sha Wujing, you're pretty spot on. MK love spending time with them.

I mean seeing all of them give a bittersweet feeling to MK, seeing them remind him of his dear friends but he still love spending time with those different (but lookalike) people.

[mutated-green-things]

Stop Me if You've Heard This One Before

Words: 5,189

Pairing: April O'Neil & Leonardo, Leonardo/Usagi

Rating: T

Summary: Leonardo isn’t supposed to be here. He shouldn’t be skulking outside April’s window, working up the courage to knock. He should be healing, should be working on letting go of his self-directed rage, but he can feel the thorny question at the forefront of his mind ripping at stitches, unraveling the progress he’s made thus far. He has to expel the sharp edges somehow or soon he’ll be right back to where he started. And April will get it. April will understand. At least, he hopes so.

-

There’s more than one part of Leonardo that rebels against raising his hand and knocking on April O’Neil’s window. There will be questions, oh so many questions, and he knows he can only handle so many of those right now.

It’s late too. It would be impolite. He says this to himself like it’s an actual argument, but the sun has really only just set and April is a New Yorker, she too never really sleeps.

And she’s the only one who would understand. He hopes. 

So he reigns in the rebelling parts of himself and raps his bulky hand against the glass. There’s a bit of shuffling and then sure enough, she answers. She’s clearly in an outfit that is more comfort than style, but she doesn’t look tired. Less so when she sees Leo’s face. Her eyes widen as they’re filled with sparks of surprise, and for a moment she just stares.

“Leonardo?” She blinks, then squints, like she’s sure she must have the wrong turtle. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a different dimension right now?”

Leo supposes that’s a fair question, but it isn’t one he’s entirely sure how to answer. He waves a hand back and forth and makes a sort of ’ehhhh’ sound. Then when her face starts to turn stern and disapproving, he jumps into his explanation.

“I’m feeling better! I think. I mean, I am. It’s just…” How does he explain this? Does he tell her all of it? He can barely even look at her right now, preferring instead to stare at his scaly, twiddling fingers.

Apparently, something about that is enough. When Leonardo looks up again, she doesn’t look confused or disappointed, instead her face has fallen into a melancholic kind of concern. She opens the window the slightest bit wider and steps back before gesturing Leo inside. 

He double checks to make sure no one sees him, that he’s not been tailed. After several months away from New York, he’s glad to see so many of his instincts are still holding up. That, at least, is one small island of reassurance in the racing current of his mind. He doesn’t see or sense any watching eyes or mysterious shadows, so he steps into April’s apartment and out of the early spring chill.

“You can sit wherever. I was just making—“ A kettle whistles from around the corner. She gestures toward the sound, then slips into her too small kitchen to silence it.

Leo doesn’t sit. He’s too amped for that right now and is busy taking in all the little things he missed while in Usagi Miyamoto’s world. Central electric heating. He hadn’t worried about that in a long time, hadn’t thought about it. Not since they’d turned… eight? He remembered worrying about all the wiring work Don was doing around that age, so that was probably right. Maybe nine. Definitely not ten. Only a decade couldn’t be long enough ago, right?

Second Earth had quickly reacquainted him with sturdy iron stoves and the frigid nights without them. 

The blazing electric lights in April’s apartment have almost become a wonder too, after being away for so long. Not their ease of use. He had prepared to miss that. In period pieces candles had always seemed… so much brighter, but actually trying to work or write or anything by candlelight was a hellish exercise in absolute frustration. How Usagi managed it without the eye strain headaches he would never understand. 

“Is lavender still your favorite?” April calls from the kitchen and warmth radiates from Leo’s chest all the way up to his smile. 

“You remembered,” he calls back. 

She comes back around the corner with a teapot and two cups in hand almost too quickly. Too quickly for her to have been waiting for an answer on flavor anyway. She has a wry smile on her face. “Of course I remembered, you doof. You’re all so distinct about these sorts of things it’s kind of hard to forget.” As she sets down the pot, she gestures to the couch, insisting that he sit down now. 

He finally does, saying very matter-of-factly in his best imitations of Mikey’s ‘I’m choosing to be obnoxious right now’ voice, “I’ll have you know that I have been turned into a jasmine turtle as of late. The flavor profile isn’t as light as I usually prefer but the deeper notes are—“ 

She throws a pillow at him. He laughs, and gods is it good to talk to her again. Actually talk to her, casually, without everything feeling like a deadly threat or without the world actually about to end. Whether or not she can help him, he’s glad he went to her first. His family— no, his brothers and father— would have been all somberly proud about a recovery he isn’t even sure he’s completed yet. 

She still sees it though, still smiles at him with an ease he doesn’t remember from the months before he went to go frolicking across second earth. He even smiles at that thought. That’s how he thought of it before leaving, but his time on Second Earth has been anything but easy. 

“You really are doing better, huh? I haven’t seen you this relaxed in…” she takes a deep breath, “I mean. It’s been a while. We all hoped Usagi might be able to help but—“ 

Leo winces inadvertently at hearing Usagi’s name outside his own mind. 

April flinches too, face quickly flickering into a deep frown. “Uh-oh. I don’t like that look. Did something happen? Are you two fighting?”

He laughs at that too, but this is a laugh from before any of the darkness had started lifting. Cold and bitter and absolutely devoid of the warm joy he was feeling earlier. Because really, if only it were that simple. If they were both at fault, then they could just talk things over, could just make amends, but the situation Leo’s in is all his own doing. Or… he tries to reframe it. The fault of someone else who hurt him maybe? Usagi told him the self-blame came from scars unhealed. Maybe that’s the issue. He wants to think so, but when the wrongness is inside him, his body, his feelings, his hurt, he can’t really think of who else could be blamed. 

“Leo, c’mon. What’s up? I know you came here for a reason.” She reaches toward him with one hand across the antique coffee table. His eyes dart past her manicured nails to the teapot and cups. The earthenware is immediately recognizable. It’s a gift from Donnie and him, from about three Christmases ago. 

“Is it still steeping?” He’s starting to smell the gentle aroma of lavender now. He’s surprised by how much he missed it. Usagi loves jasmine tea and Leo enjoys it enough that he doesn’t argue. He feels a little like he can’t, what with everything Usagi has done for him. With everything he keeps doing. 

“You know it is,” April says through a scowl. “What’s wrong, Leonardo? You’re—“

He picks up one of the onyx black yunomi. “Is the set still holding together well?” She’s using his full name and he just— he can’t handle that right now. Not yet. So instead, he traces the veins of gold kintsugi that wind and skitter against the black with a finger. 

April sighs and mercifully relents. “Yeah. I only use the cups when I have company, but the teapot is… I mean I don’t have a lot of them. I didn’t drink a lot of tea before I met you four, but it’s still my favorite. I use it all the time and there’s never been any cracks or issues with the bonding.” 

“I’m glad,” he replies, and even without the tea the warmth is back in his chest as he continues to trace the golden cracks. 

Donnie had been the one to find the set in the landfill. Three cups and the pot, though they’re pretty sure there were originally four. There had been minuscule bits of sharp earthenware scattered all around where Donnie had found it, like a pile of dangerous black sand. None of those tiny pieces matched any of the existing cups or the pot, and there hadn’t been enough to make a full other cup, so they couldn’t know for sure, but really, what else could it be?

The mystery didn’t matter much anyway. Something so quality so intact was always a great find, and Donnie didn’t hesitate to gather it all up into his duffel. He’d planned to repair it as he usually did. Glue and paint to hide any cracks, but Leo had taken one look and demanded it become a joint project

They practiced for weeks, following YouTube tutorials, public library books, on any dish they could get their hands on. They weren’t perfect. Leo can see the little bumps and blips in the gold even now, but they’re still beautiful, stunning really. Gold against black is always such a brilliant contrast. 

“Leonardo?” His eyes lift and sees that April’s slight frown is accompanied by a furrowed brow now. “The tea still has a minute left, but if you don’t start talking, I’m going to start pouring.” Her tone is mostly worry, but there’s also the smallest bite of annoyed anger there too. 

He sets the cup down, taking in the table as he does. Then he puts as much apology as he can into his smile. “Sugar?” 

“Leo!” 

“Okay that one isn’t a stall. I really—“

“Ugh! Yeah, I remember that too. Fine then. I’m grabbing it, but only ‘cause it’s still steeping.” She gets up, all forceful and irate, then stomps off to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder as she does, ”I swear to god Leo, if I come back and you’ve done the ninja disappearing thing I am going to be so mad.” 

He considers it. He even stares out the window. He still isn’t sure if he’s ready to do this, but then he thinks about the look on Usagi’s face and how fiercely he tried to hide the dejected shadows there. He really does need… no, more important than that, he wants April’s help. He wants to understand exactly what went wrong. He wants to know how to make the clunky weirdness go away. He wants Usagi to smile at him like that again, like all his cracks and flaws and scars have been filled with brilliant, beautiful gold, like he did before Leo’s… everything ruined it all. 

So he stays. April comes back with the sugar and a relieved kind of sigh. “Thank you.” 

He smiles again, still all shrinking apologies. 

She smiles back, and even if the grin is a tight one, it’s clear enough that she’s only this upset because she cares. “Now,” she says as she picks up the pot, “I am going to pour tea and you are going to talk.” 

“Is that—“

“Leonardo.” She starts pouring. Her voice brooks no argument. Leo nods. 

“Right um… where to start. Well. Usagi— he. I mean, I was sort of—” Leo realizes only now that he’s unsure if he ever actually officially came out to April. She knows. She has to. His brothers tease too much about celebrity and cartoon crushes for her not to. He’s pretty sure she’s even gotten in on it once or twice, but he still can’t quite recall if he ever said the words ‘I’m gay’ to her specifically. 

There’s nothing for it now though, and he knows that of all of his family, she isn’t about to judge. Still, he waits for her to finish pouring the steaming hot tea. “We… we kissed.” 

Her expression doesn’t even change. 

“And?”

“And? And! We kissed! I mean, I— wasn’t even. Really expecting it? Usagi is a good, great friend, but we were gazing at the stars and— why aren’t you more freaked out by this! I kissed someone! My first kiss! With another guy!” 

She raises a slim, perfect eyebrow. “Leo, I know you’re gay. You really think I’d have a problem with it?” 

“Well! No but… I mean. Usagi and I are really good friends but— I mean that’s kind of all we are and… and I thought this would be a bigger deal!” 

She blows on her cup of tea, then begins dropping little teaspoons of sugar into it, responding as she does. “Leo, you’ve had a very obvious crush on Usagi ever since you met him at the battle nexus. I’m pretty sure Raph and Casey had started taking bets on when you’d make your move.” She pauses, another little pile of sugar poised above her cup. “Or was it who would make the first move?” 

“Bets…?” Leo murmurs. 

“Anyway, you kissed! That’s— well isn’t that a good thing?” 

“Wait, what was that about bets?”

“Ask Raph or Casey. Or maybe Donnie. I think he might have been facilitating formal odds or something.” She waves off the idea of a gambling ring based on his romantic status with a flick of her fingers. “Why isn’t this a good thing? You looked downright devastated.” 

He opens his mouth to ask about the gambling again. Then shuts it. Later. He’ll be having words with all of them. Later. 

“It was a good thing. Or I think it was a good thing. It just didn’t… didn’t feel right.” 

She smiles like she understands, which means that she doesn’t. Not yet anyway. “Look, I hate to break it to you, but first kisses are never like the movies. My first kiss was messy. I’m sure Casey’s was too. Noses bump, teeth crack together, heck my sister ended up getting her braces tangled up and locked together with another set! She and the guy were both mortified. I don’t think I’ve seen her face that red since.” 

Leo’s nose scrunches up. “Really?” 

“Yep. They had to make an emergency orthodontist appointment. But hey! She laughs about it now. Whatever happened, I’m sure in a couple years it’ll probably just seem funny.” Her smile is still all sympathetic understanding, which is sweet, but if this were just about awkward mistakes, he wouldn't have come to her. He probably wouldn’t have gone to anyone. He knows what he wants to ask, but he also knows once the question leaves his lips there’s no stuffing it back in. There’s no pretending like he didn’t know what he meant. 

He bites his lip and tiptoes toward the line anyway, hoping he can get the answers he wants without tripping over it, knowing that’s probably impossible. “It wasn’t that. Not really. I mean… it was kinda perfect at first, y’know? He was really gentle with me and…” he goes back to inspecting the teapot. He just can’t look April in the eye when he says, “I mean, he’s soft. He’s a rabbit so that only makes sense. And that was nice. But…”

“Did he push you too far?” April asks. 

Leo can’t see her expression. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to. Especially when he shakes his head and responds. “No. I pushed. I shifted and it was all—“ how can he express it without the reality crashing down? If he says the words, if April figures it out, it all becomes real and the barriers, the obstacles, every single potential ‘you can’t’ becomes possible. 

Something clogs in his throat. That’s why he came here. Because April would understand, would help him mourn all the impossibilities. He swallows. “He’s older than me. By almost three years. He has more experience, more training. He’s wise and clever and I really admire him. Most of the time it’s like he’s larger than life, y’know? This sword master samurai who for some reason thinks I’m worth being around.”

“Leo—“ he hears the consoling tone in her voice and holds up a hand.

“That isn’t— I’m not done.” He takes a breath. He can guess what she sees, what she’s thinking, and she isn’t entirely wrong. It’s why he doesn’t think his recovery is over. He still hates himself. The reasons have just shifted a bit to the left. “Usagi… he’s also shorter than me. If you count the ears it isn’t by much but even with all that training he’s compact and small. And I’m.” He stares at his bulky, three fingered hand. “I just don’t usually notice it. With the presence he has, with the extra experience and maturity. But I pushed, just a little, and he let me. I had a hand on his cheek and I leaned in and he just folded. Then all I could feel, all I could think about was how— all the ways I’m bigger and clunkier and—“ he clenches his fingers into a heavy wrecking ball. His throat is stuck again, even when he swallows. He knows he wants to cry, but it’s all just lodged and immovable. Another weighty part of him. 

April is silent for several long beats, but when she finally does speak, it’s with the horrendous, crushing kind of understanding he’s been so desperate to avoid. “Oh. Oh, Leo…” 

He rushes ahead before she can offer anything. Before she can say it either. “How did you know? You know, for sure? That you wanted…” He can’t say it. He can’t speak it into existence. He isn’t strong enough to crush such a fragile, delicate wish. One he’s been holding in his heart longer than he realized. April does it for him. 

“That I wanted to be a girl?” 

He winces. Then nods. The fear is so horrifically real, but when he opens his wet eyes, he sees that miraculously, the world hasn’t crumbled around him. 

April is even smiling at him. She’s reaching out a hand. Now she knows, now she sees, and to Leo’s surprise she doesn’t look consoling or sad like he expected. Her smile is joy and excitement more than anything, genuine and bright. “I think you might already know the answer to that question.” 

He swallows. He nods. He brushes away the tears in his eyes before they can finally fall, staining his wrist wraps with salt and despair. “Don’t tell anyone.” He whispers through the heavy thickness in his throat.

April looks confused for a moment, but she nods. “Your secret’s safe with me, but…  do you really think your family will care?” Then she pauses, and seems to realize something else. “Will Usagi care? Is that what this is about? Cause if he won’t accept you as a woman, take it from me, he isn’t worth it.” 

Leonardo blinks for several moments. He honestly had never even thought about it. Usagi comes from an entirely different culture, one that’s missing over five hundred years of cultural baggage and interaction with western traditions and beliefs. Clearly if he kissed Leo, he doesn’t entirely consider himself straight, but the modern cultural connotations of that word are probably lost on him anyway. Leo hasn’t exactly taken the time to explain the Stonewall Riots to his extra-dimensional, early-Edo-period crush. 

“Uh— I don’t. I mean, It might surprise him, but I don’t think… I mean I’m not even sure how odd that would be to him, y’know? He lives in an entirely different dimension that I’ve only experienced for a little over six months. He’s— I’d like to think I know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t— he’d accept— he would be—“ how did he word this? 

“He wouldn’t lose any respect for you?” April offers and Leo nods once, sharp and sure. 

“Then are you just— I mean if you aren’t ready that’s fine. I shouldn’t judge. I just— I want to understand why you feel that way so maybe I can help.” 

The puffing wheeze of air escapes Leo’s lungs before he can help it. It’s not a laugh, not a cough, it’s more pathetic and painful than either of those. “There’s— you can’t help. That’s the problem.” 

“I—“ April’s mouth presses into a flat line. Now she looks really confused. “Look I don’t mean to toot my own horn or whatever, but I have kind of done all this before. If you have questions about— about any of it really! Hormones, blockers, make-up. You don’t have to change your name legally so that’s nice, but if you want ideas I already have some rattling around! I don’t know every little thing, but I’m here and I know a lot. I could even like— if you need me for moral support when you tell the fam, or heck even Usagi. I’ve gone to a different dimension before. I can do it again.” 

It’s all so sweet and supportive that it makes a couple more tears fall. An inane detail floats up to the top. Something he’s thought about longer than he wants to admit. “I already had a name in mind actually…” Mikey had given him the idea inadvertently while babbling about some comic when they were… eleven? Twelve? Something like that. 

His brother had bounced in his seat at the dinner table, telling them all about the superheroine who channeled the sun’s immense power to defeat her enemies. Going from how her supernatural abilities worked, to her armored outfit, to her secret identity and normal human job. He’d asked Mikey to repeat that last one, and then smiled at how something so similar to his own name could be so beautiful and elegant. 

Back in the present, April beams at him with the same solar power Leona uses to fight villainy. “Really? That’s awesome! What were you thinking?” 

Leonardo’s brain communicates to his body that a dire mistake has been made and he feels every single one of his muscles tense. From the outside it probably looks like a flinch, and he watches as the bright sun of April’s smile dims and then flickers out. She’s faster to recover this time though. 

She takes a breath and holds out both hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I know this is a lot. I’m being a lot and changing your whole life around is already scary. I just— I dealt with the beginning scary bits when I was like thirteen and… well to be honest I thought the whole mutant turtle thing would take the bite out of the whole gender thing.” She waves her hands in a way that hints at sculpting something amorphous. 

“But you’ve had your whole life to get used to the shell and scales and weird glowing mutagenic mystery substances whereas this— this is all new. And new is always gonna take some adjustment time. So, take as long as you need, okay? But when you wanna lay it all out, I’ll be here.” She reaches out again, only this time, she bends herself forward, not offering a hand but setting her small delicate fingers on Leo’s own clunky, twiddling digits.

This time, he really does flinch. Away from her. 

As April responds with her own flinch back, Leo stands up, shoving himself out of the chair, almost spilling his tea. 

“Leo I—“

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” He thought, he oh so foolishly believed she would get it, but her ideas are grandiose, bright hope like Michelangelo might be. Like, Usagi might have been if he’d shared? 

His friend had spent the last six months trying to get him to see all the little spots of shining joy in the world. Usagi hadn’t babied him, hadn’t told Leo it would all work out or be okay in the end. He’d acknowledged that fear and failure were simple inevitabilities. But then he’d turned Leo’s eyes to all he’d been missing. The little beautiful sights, sounds, tastes and feelings of the world. He’d urged Leo onward with those, telling Leo that’s how he’d avoided giving into despair years ago, when his lord was killed. 

There had always been something out of reach though. A chain around Leo’s heart that he hadn’t fully felt until the other crushing weights had started to lighten in Usagi’s company. He knew Michelangelo wouldn’t see the truth of it, suspected Usagi wouldn’t, but April was a scientist and knew so much more than the little bits Leo had hunted down through the private browsing tabs on Don’s computer at seventeen. 

Raph and Master Splinter probably wouldn’t have understood at all, which was fine but not useful. And Donnie would know. For certain, irrevocably. Donnie could, would shatter every fragile hope and dream without even trying to. And that was so painful Leo tried his damnedest to not ever think about it.

He’d gambled on April O’Neil gentle tact not hurting as much as Don’s assured decree and made the wrong bet. Now he had to leave. Right now. 

Only his chest is soaking in surprise and what he knows is wrongfully placed betrayal. He stumbles toward the window, but April is already there, hands held out again. Not a surrender this time but a barrier.

“Leo, wait! Please. What— I didn’t mean to rush you or… or try to force things. I’m just trying to help. I promise.”

He swallows. “Move.” She doesn’t get it. He has to leave. 

“Leo. Please. Just talk to me.” 

Something boils over. He wants the frustration, anger, despair, horror, pain to come out as tears. He wishes it could. Instead, it comes out as words, loud and unwieldy and too deep and too honest. “ Talk to you? What, so you can not listen to me again?” 

“What?” April can only manage that one word, quiet and hollow. 

“You can’t help April! There is nothing you can do that will magically fix this. I’m not—“ he growls. Doesn’t she see the obvious? It’s right in front of her after all.

“Leo, what are you talking about? There’s all sorts of treatments and exercises and—“

“April, I’m a mutant turtle! I’m an— an anomaly! A fluke! Our bodies don’t work the same as a normal human’s. We have no idea how prescribed estrogen and hormone blockers would affect me. If— if they even would.” He clenches his fists. “Where would I even get it? Am I just going to start stealing it from someone else? In the same dose? Every single month? Like that wouldn’t get suspicious!” Then he splays out his fingers much like she is. “Even if it did work, there isn’t some magical fix for these! For— for who I am. For all the ways I’m too—“ 

April takes his hands. Grabs them, squeezes them tight for multiple beats before responding, “Leonardo. Is the talking turtle who just came back from another dimension about to tell me her becoming the woman she wants to be is impossible?” 

“I…” Leonardo hadn’t ever really thought of it like that, hadn’t really ever compared this to the other impossibilities of his life. His family had experienced some truly astounding things, but getting thrown through time and space, finding the lost city of Atlantis, overthrowing an alien empire. Those had all been dangers, near deaths. All turtle luck, true to form. There are very few things he or his brothers have stumbled into that feel truly miraculous or fortunate, and most of what comes to mind at the moment involves warm pink-red eyes and blue swirling pools of light. He doesn’t expect, can’t imagine, another stroke of luck like Usagi again. That just isn’t how his life works. 

“Leo, you have three tremendously geeky science freaks on your side, one of whom is the world’s preeminent expert on mutated turtle biology.”

Leo holds up a finger, and repeats a favorite line of Donatello’s, “I’m an engineer, not a medical doctor.” 

“Yeah and we both know that’s bullshit.” Leo blinks at her owlishly, not quite absorbing the fact she just cursed. April resorting to foul language to refute Donatello of all people almost felt like a crime. “He’s kept all four of you alive for twenty years, he’s stitched you all up more times than even he can count, and sometimes he’ll just, casually mention setting an extreme compound fracture or doing an in-the-field blood transfusion. Just because he prefers machines doesn’t mean he isn’t an expert in biology out of necessity. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a file stashed somewhere with regularly updated blood counts and cholesterol levels for the four of you. And Splinter. Especially Splinter actually.” 

Leo can’t argue with that. April is right. They both know that Don has done something stupidly tough or miraculous in every field he‘s touched. They also know he’s overly paranoid and has nearly driven himself insane with sleep deprivation when hunting down answers. They call him a mad genius for a reason. Still. “That doesn’t mean he’s about to become my long term endocrinologist April. He has more important—“ 

“More important things than his big sister’s happiness?” 

“We don’t even know—“ 

“Uh uh uh. Leo. Stop. Would it make you feel better about yourself? Would it make you happy?” She still has a hand on Leo’s cloth wrapped wrists. She squeezes them now. 

“I— the hormones?” Maybe? Probably? That’s what the hope is.

“ All of it Leo. The hormones yeah but… dressing different maybe? The she/her pronouns. I noticed you didn’t correct me on those by the way.” 

Leo felt heat rush to their face. They thought April was just being kind. Maybe she was. 

“Being the older sister instead of the older brother. Being Splinter’s daughter. Being… I don’t know, Usagi’s girlfriend maybe? You don’t exactly have a normal life so…”

Leo loses track of what April is saying for a moment. They don’t use Donnie’s computer that often, but it’s a cobbled together thing they’ve seen blue screen many times. Leo’s pretty sure that’s what’s happening now. Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend. 

They blink and reset their motherboard, or hard drive, or whatever is the correct metaphor.

“…no matter what you’ll have a huge network of support right there with you.”

“I— I know. I know that. It’s… that is great, but again. Mutant turtle. There’s no guarantee that any kind of…” a deep breath, “I’ve thought a lot about this April and if I’m doing it, I’m not doing it halfway. I know– I know I’d want the hormones April, I just don’t know if—“ 

April moves her hands from their wrists to their shoulders. Leo looks up into eyes that are all green warmth and kindness. “Will it make you happy?” 

Leo’s hand goes to their mask tails, fidgeting with them. They stop to really think about that question. Immediately girlfriend comes to mind again. They imagine Usagi saying it and have to move on before some other metaphorical machinery bursts into spectacular flames. It isn’t just that anyway. Sister. Daughter. She. Her. Leona. She finds the smile on her face more than she makes it happen. 

A disbelieving, unsure chuckle leaves her mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it will.” 

“Then that’s all that matters. Whatever it takes, we’ll make it happen. Okay?” 

There’s something stuck in her throat again. This time it doesn’t feel as heavy. “Okay. Thanks, April.”

[rebeliz7]

MY WIFE

Kara Danvers x Reader

Prompt: “How could you do this to me?” “I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

Word Count: 1700

…

You know something is different from the moment you walk inside your apartment. Nothing is out of place, and everything looks exactly how you left it when you went to work in the morning, but still, something is different and you can feel it. 

You close the front door with a soft click and place your coat and purse on the rack, your shoes in the closet and your keys in the bowl. 

The silence is unnerving, it’s not a normal silence, it’s an eerie silence. These walls seem to vibrate with an unspoken secret. 

The glass of red wine on your kitchen counter is the first thing you notice. There’s red lipstick smeared on the edge, you recognize the shade but the dots stand too far apart for you to connect them just yet. 

It’s almost eight o’clock, and you’re supposed to be attending a conference via Skype with the head of Engineering in Tokyo, but he canceled at the last minute because of a family emergency and you couldn’t wait to get home. 

You aren’t supposed to be at home, you aren’t supposed to see whatever it is that this eerie silence is hiding. 

A heavy and uncomfortable weight settles in the pit of your stomach, with each step that you take down the hallway, towards your bedroom. 

The second thing you notice is the bedroom door being closed, and the dots begin to move slowly towards each other, as if they’re magnets and you’re taking too long to figure them out. 

When your mind finally puts them together, you come to a stop at the same time that your stomach drops, your body aches. 

The red lipstick, the door and the soft glowing red light that’s coming from underneath the door---the eerie silence. 

You know what you’ll see when you push this door open, and a part of you wants to turn around and pretend this isn’t real. 

The other part of you knows that there’s no going back, even if ignorance is bliss. 

You turn the knob and push the door open.

The red light blinds you for a second, and another wave of pain hits you right in the pit of your stomach. You developed the red light bulbs because you’re married to a kryptonian, and the bulbs act as a suppressant for sunlight, a suppressant for her inhuman strength.

Your sister in law helped you carve the idea, but your best friend was key in making them work. 

Your best friend. 

Looking at her now you completely understand her eagerness in helping you out back then. 

The thing about finding your spouse in bed with someone else, is that it becomes an out of body kind of experience. It’s not something that you ever expect to have to see, and your mind struggles to fully accept what your eyes are witnessing. 

Finding your wife making love to your best friend and boss, it’s just devastatingly life altering. 

They’re not fucking, they’re making love in a way that it’s particularly heartbreaking for you, because Kara is just as delicate when she touches you. 

How ironic, you think, it is that without the red lights, Kara would have been able to notice you minutes ago. 

You lean against the doorframe, your body feeling heavy and like it doesn’t belong to you. A headache is coming, your head is spinning and the pain that takes root in your chest reminds you of the car accident you were in when you were fourteen. 

The emotional pain transcends to become something real. They might as well have carved open your skin with a scalpel, taken out your heart with their bare hands and let you bleed to death, and the pain would be exactly the same. 

They haven’t noticed you, and you wait because you don’t know what to do. 

What do you say in a situation like this? What do you do? Experience has only taught you so much. 

You’ve been cheated on before, you told your wife the story about your girlfriend in college, and how you found her having sex with a cheerleader in your dorm room a few weeks before the semester was over. 

She knows how you feel about cheating. 

Lena knows too, of course, being your best friend she knows most of your inner thoughts, things that you can’t talk to your wife about, things that you trusted her with.

They knew you’ve been cheated on in the past, and they still did this to you. 

You take a deep breath, just as Lena moans out your wife’s name, and you turn on the regular lights in your bedroom. 

Whatever numbness you were feeling is broken by Lena’s throaty moan. You’re not willing to hear more of that. 

Your wife is the first one to react, jumping out of the bed in a rush, wide eyes staring at you with fear and shock, and completely nude. 

You don’t want to notice the little details, but you still do. You take notice of Kara’s red raw lips, abused from so much kissing. Her blond hair is a messy mane, from Lena’s desperate pulls. 

And Lena, who takes a second to comprehend what is going on before she has the mind to close her legs and pull a white satin sheet to cover her naked body. There are angry marks on her neck, from where your wife’s lips must have sucked till it bruised.

Swallowing with difficulty, you look away, feeling sick to your stomach. 

You’re a stranger in this life, you don’t belong in this narrative. 

Your legs shake when you move, so you walk slowly, directly to your closet. You grab a suitcase, and that sparks a cascade of reactions. 

“What are you doing?” Kara asks you in a rush, as she runs to your side. “What are you doing?” She asks again, when you meet her eyes. 

You look at her for a fleeting moment, but you quickly discover that her panic is only making you angry. 

She has no right. 

Setting the suitcase on the mattress, you go around the bedroom, picking up what you deem necessary. You don’t plan on taking much, only what you need until you’re back on your feet. 

You notice Lena being petrified on your bed, sheet clutching against her chest as she observes you. 

“Please, stop. Please.” Kara begs, as she follows you back and forth, back and forth. You don’t stop packing. 

“Please, just stop.” You eye the bedroom quickly, deciding you’ll buy whatever else, when Kara stands in front of you.

She’s thrown some pants on and a top, but Lena still hasn’t moved. 

“This means nothing!” Kara screams, making you take another pause. 

Your eyes flash towards Lena out of instinct, and you catch the exact moment the words hit her. She flinches, seems to shrink a couple of inches and even tears begin to roll down her cheeks. 

Her pain doesn’t make you feel any better. 

It’s clear that promises were made, conversations where you were supposed to leave the picture were held. 

You try to advance towards the bedroom door, but Kara blocks your way. 

“No, don’t leave. Please, don’t leave. Lena will go.” Kara rushes in. “Lena, leave!”

Lena flinches one more time, but she manages to pull herself back together quickly too. 

“Immediately.” She says as she throws the sheet aside and stands from your bed. 

This isn’t new. The way she moves around your bedroom is familiar, as if she’s been here a thousand times before today.

“You should stay. Work things out.” She tells you, as if she’s still your friend and her words aren’t liquid poison now. 

“¡Out!” Kara tells her harshly but you don’t wait to see her getting dressed, you just take the suitcase and leave the room. 

Kara follows you, rushes to block your path in the hallway again. 

“Please, don’t leave. Don’t leave.” She begs, anguish washing over her features. 

You see her pain, but you also don’t recognize the person standing before you anymore. 

“¡She means nothing!” Kara exclaims, desperate to convince you. “I have no feelings for her. This was just sex. Nothing more and I am so, so sorry baby. Please. I love you. You’re my… my wife, please.” 

Your heart breaks at hearing her words, mostly because you never thought of her as someone who could hurt you. Not even when you knew that she had the power of the sun in her bare hands, you always trusted her.

“Your wife.” You utter the words in a whisper, weighting them on your tongue and tasting only despair. 

“I love you.” She fiercely tells you. “I love you, and I won’t ever, ever leave you. Please.”

When she tries to touch you, you back away from her slowly. 

They say that every person has a breaking point, a switching moment, a flicker of time when they change. This must be that moment for you, because you know that this is the biggest pain you’ll ever get to feel. 

This betrayal is your defining moment. 

“Please.”

“I trusted you.” You tell her, refusing to acknowledge her pain no more. You hoped that you’d grow old together. 

You’re almost at the door when Lena walks out of your bedroom, clad in a blue tight dress and stilettos. 

She’s gorgeous, always has been. 

When she’s close enough and both of them are standing next to each other, they become complete strangers to you. 

They represent your life in two different ways, but your life altogether. 

“Please, stay.” You tell Lena, your hand slightly raised, and tears spring from her eyes again. You put on your shoes, and pick up your coat and purse. 

“No, she’s leaving.” Kara says. “Leave, Lena.”

“I’m so sorry.” Lena tells you, and you shake your head. 

“How could you two do this to me?” You ask them but you don’t wait for their answer, as you open the door and walk out without your keys.

This won’t be the last time that you see them, Lena is still your boss, and Kara is still your wife. 

You knew something was different when you got home, you just didn't know you were about to lose everything though. 

… 

[sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine]

Hardheaded

Prompt: Anon ask: "Would you be able to do a blurb where the reader is having a bad migraine flare up and Jake sees them struggling while they’re making dinner and he does anything he can to help them get some rest and ease their discomfort?"

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

{Author Commentary: This is a bit more than a blurb, sort of reverse-role version of Taking Care. Established relationship, comfort, fluff, acts of service. To all my fellow migraine farers, please drink your water and be gentle with yourself <3 }

The atmosphere of the kitchen was always better with Jake in it. In fact, he was probably the only person you even liked having in the kitchen while you were cooking. As Jake refilled both your wine glasses, you slightly lifted the lid on your simmering risotto. The steam rose and curled around you, blending perfectly with the soft music already filling the air. 

You’d closed the lid and turned to accept your glass as Jake handed it to you. You leaned in for a peck before taking a sip. His hand smoothed across your lower back, resting on your hip as you leaned against his side. “It smells amazing, you’ve really got the magic touch, Mr. Kiszka, what is your secret?” you jested, making him chuckle. He responded in an exaggerated, husky voice, “They say… I’ve got these magic hands…” You giggled, and he kissed your temple. His lips were cool from his wine glass, and it was a small relief from how warm your head had started feeling. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath and releasing it after a few seconds. His thumb grazed the small bit of skin under the hem of your shirt comfortingly, “Everything ok?”. You nodded, resolutely, -not about to let an impending headache ruin this otherwise perfect evening. “It’s just a bit warm.” He was already moving to open the small window over your sink before you could ask. You watched him, endeared, before making your way to the fridge to gather the stuff for the salad.

Ouch. The fluorescent light of the fridge felt sharp to your eyes, after they’d been accustomed to the soft, warm evening’s light. You closed them again, tightening your grip on the handle before summoning your strength, and ignoring the sluggish pounding that had begun emanating from deep in your skull. You gathered your ingredients and swiftly brought them to the cutting board on the counter. Jake handed you a chopping knife and got out a bowl.

You started chopping, keeping your eyes steady on the knife in your hand. You could feel the heightened attentiveness in his gaze as he sipped his wine and watched you. “...Babe, are you sure I can’t do that for you?” He asked as he made his way over to you, resting a warm hand on your back. “I just had a long day… that feels nice”. He’d moved to stand behind you, lightly massaging your lower back. You sighed, setting down the knife and tilting your head to the side, stretching your neck.

It couldn’t help at this point. The pounding had settled in, seemingly right behind your eyes. 'Dammit. A migraine'. Jake’s hands slid down your forearms, gently resting over yours. He set the knife to the side before gently wrapping his arms around you. “It’s ok, you can’t control when it happens.” He spoke softly from over your shoulder, nuzzling your hair. Your voice was weak but frustrated, ”I just wish it wasn’t tonight-” “I know, darling. You’re hard-headed,” you could hear his small, knowing smile, matching it with your own. He kissed the crown of your hair, ”the only thing you can’t win against is you. You don’t have to fight it, let me help you.”

You sighed and slumped into his embrace. With his arms still around you, he began guiding you away from the counter. “You should lie down. I’ll be in in a minute, I��ll bring you a glass of water. Is your migraine cap in the freezer?” “I think so… should we put away dinner?” “I’ll put a timer on for the risotto, you don’t worry about all that.” As the two of you entered the bedroom, you turned and kissed him, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against his. He breathed slowly with you for a moment, gently holding your hips. “Have I mentioned how much I love you right now?” you murmured. “...Just right now?” he murmured back, making you laugh again before you had to pull away and press at your temples desperately. He gave your hip a soft squeeze, whispering, “Go get in bed, I’ll be right back.”

You’d abandoned your cute outfit for an oversized tshirt and dimmed the single lamp at your bedside before flopping on the bed. You curled around a pillow letting out a small pathetic sound as the pulsing in your head raged. When the bedroom door opened, you hardly noticed. Jake had turned off the record player, and the hall lights. He closed the door quietly behind him, making his way over to the bed. You rolled over to reach for him. 

“Can you sit up and drink some water?” he asked softly, taking your outstretched hand. You nodded and sat up, taking the cup from him with your free hand and forcing a gulp before setting it on the bedside table. “Do you want me to lay with you, or do you want some alone time? Whatever you think will help. Everything else is taken care of.” You thought for a moment. “Could you stay here and rub my temples, please?” “Of course, ‘m just gonna change real quick.”

He discarded his belt and jeans for a pair of soft joggers. “Do you want any background sounds or anything?” ”Yeah, the one I have saved at the top of my headache playlist, please.” He turned it on, and the soft airy ambiance settled over the room. As he finished, you moved over and propped up some pillows against the headboard, motioning for him. You sat between his legs so you could lean back against his chest. 

He waited till you seemed comfortable. His fingers gently brushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ears before trailing back up to your temples. In unison, the pads of his fingers applied a slow, even pressure as they traced around the tender pulse point. Circling, circling, circling, then drawing the pressure away as they trailed back into your hair, and occasionally behind your ear, all the way down to the pressure point behind your jaw. 

The tension being gradually, methodically, pulled from you was replaced with a heavy calm. Jake’s knuckles gently pressed into the sides of your nose bridge, just below the brow bone. When he drew them up and out along your brow bone, the tension release was so sweet you let out a soft sound. You already carried a lot of tension in your brow day-to-day, and he’d learned your migraine pain tended to concentrate around your orbital socket. He repeated the motion again, and again, before shifting to drawing them down the bridge of your nose and along your cheekbones. After a satisfying repetition of that, he was back up to your temples, this time tracing down in front of your ears to trace the outline of your face and jaw.

As your adrenaline had crashed, your body had gone weak. Though not as painful, your head still felt increasingly heavy. It lolled to the side as sleep crept in. You reached up to take one of his hands, holding it to your lips to kiss his knuckles. “You’ve really got some magic hands...” He hummed softly, feeling content with the sleepy smile on your face. His free hand cupped your face, brushing a thumb over your cheek a final time.

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!

{Tag List: @joshsindigostreak @readyforthegarden @star-boxer @doodle417 ​ ​ @weightofdreams-gvf ​ ​ @gretnabancheese ​ @shutupdevvie ​ @holdingup-fallingsky ​ @groggyvanfleet ​ @garagebandvanfleet ​ ​ @razorbladekiszka ​​ @hyperfixated-gvf ​​@pippin-jay @hearts-hunger @twistedmelodies @ageofwagner @cal-a-bungaa @indigofallingsky @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @gretasmokerising @leviathanlazarus @earthgirlsreasy @lacuna-moon @suzi107 @wildbluesorbit @fantazmagorical96 @meetingthestarcatcher @musicislove3389 }

[whysodelirious08]

E.M - The One That Got Away. SHORT

Hurt/No Comfort.

Please Reblog with hashtags. It helps! 💗

A/N: Not Proofread. Just wanted to write some hurt/no comfort angst. Asshole Big Shot Eddie. Not gendered (I think) and based around 1998. Eddie is in his thirties I believe.

Warnings/themes: Relationship ending, headache, accused cheating, strained relationship, long-term, neglect on Eddie's part, swearing.

Edit: I have made slight changes just so ik it's not gendered in Eddie's choices in partners. Making it gender neutral.

---------

"What do you want from me, Eddie? Seriously- what do you expect?"

Your voice was filled with frustration and pain, months worth. Years even. The only sound that accompanied your defeated tone was the padding of your pacing steps followed by a drawn out sigh turned almost growl coming from your fiancé.

"I dunno. A bit of- of understanding maybe? You think this hasn't been hard for me-"

Eddie tried to bite back but, in all honesty, it just made you angrier.

"Understanding? Understanding! Wow- that's all this takes? Who would have known! All I've ever given is understanding, Eddie! Years of it!"

Your voice cut his cleanly off. Louder now. Standing just a few steps from him. But you didn't give up quite yet.

"When your tour went on longer because you added on shows, all I said was; yes darling, I understand. When you wanted to go sight-see in the cities on the way back, all I said was; sure, go ahead! When I couldn't get ahold of you for a week, I convinced myself you were just travelling. Just didn't have signal. You were just tired. But we both know the truth. Don't we, Eddie? Huh? I have always given you the benefit of the doubt. Always!"

The tears streamed now, your hands in fists as you let out all of the thoughts. Everything you had sworn to keep to yourself. But, in the moment that this argument had started, you realised you didn't need to keep it in. Not to protect him. Not to burden yourself.

"Everything. Everything, Eddie. I did for you! And all I ever asked for. Was for your love. For you to come home to me at the end of it all. To just be mine. And even that was too much to ask for..."

"I never- I swear I never even touched another woman-"

"Sure. Sure, Eddie. Let's say that's true. You Sure as hell looked though right? Or is it if you don't look it doesn't happen. So if you fucked those girls with your eyes closed, it didn't happen right? That's what you joked about with your band mates. Right?"

"Babe, it was just a joke- I would. I- I'd never. Please just- why do you always have to make things bigger than they actually are-"

You slipped the ring off your finger and practically launched it with murderous intent at his face before you walked away. And by the sound of it, you had made contact enough to hear a wince and hiss.

"Go marry one of those groupies. Then you can cheat on them and they wouldn't even care. Get out. You've got a show to do. Don't want to keep your fans waiting, Mr Big Shot. And don't ever call me again. A decade of my life wasted on you. I hope you rot Eddie Munson."

Your voice echoed in his mind that night, and years to follow. The years touring. The partners he had and pushed away all because he let the one he truly loved get away. All because he let it all get to his head. He had the fame. The fans. The world in his palm. But his world had slipped away. Fallen. Broken free. Rightfully so, but there wasn't a moment it didn't torment him to insanity.

[pumpkinspiceshiplover]

Vlad King Headcaons 🩸👑

• He expects nothing but the best from his students!

• That being said he's also aware of the issues that generally come with life and some his students more....underlying issues so he might give them a break.

• But don't think that's an excuse to slack off! He's very strict on cheating and goofing off during important lessons.

• Somtimes he'll bring his dog around for the class to play with and look after. (A hero must learn responsibility!)

• He just enjoys watching his students be normal for once.

• He's like that super grumpy strict dad totally loses it when his kids get or goal or high score on a test.

• The other teachers are sick of hearing him brag.

• He knows what it's like to be judged and pushed aside for your quirk. Which is another reason he pushes 1B to be the best.

• He likes to take his time to understand each student individually by focusing on their training specifically.

• His class doesn't get as injured as Class 1A. (Which recovery girl thanks him for everday.)

• But they do cause almost double the amount of property damage.

• And considering Class 1A has students like Bakugou, Deku, heck even Todoroki! That is a accomplishment.

• (And a headache)

• No, seriously every student in that class has broken at least one thing even the responsible kids.

• He thinks Aizawa plays favorites as unintentionally leaves behind some of his other students

• He also think the pro heros expect to much out of the students and was one of the pros that protested them being involved in the war

• (He reluctantly complied after realizing their were no other options.)

• He knows a lot about how to manage teenagers from being friends with Hound Dog.

[melanieph321]

Ruben dias cheats on his girlfriend and she leaves him and takes their child with her and he is left in shambles and just before they go to court for custody they reconsile and get back together

Remeber. you asked for this....

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 4.0

(DAY 6)

Ruben Dias x Reader - The Divorce Part 1/3

Part 2 Part 3

Ruben dias cheats on his girlfriend and she leaves him and takes their child with her and he is left in shambles.

Enjoy!

Ruben started to treat you differently after the baby. He became less physical and  less verbal with you after the birth of your first child. There were no more cuddles before bed or good morning kisses. His brief "I love yous." were always spoken in a rush, on his way out. And he no longer cared to invite you to watch his games. 

It seemed like the only topic of conversation that the two of you shared were about the baby, at the same time as Ruben never spent more than a couple of minutes alone with her before making up excuses to hand her back over to you.

"I think her diaper is full."

"Well, why don't you change it?"

For the longest time, you believed that this sort of minor bickering is what led to him cheating on you. But without an explanation from Ruben, how would you really know?

"Have you received the divorce papers?"

"Jupp. I'm dropping them off at the courthouse once Ruben signes them."

"Which is when exactly?"

"This afternoon. " You nodded, cellphone pressed to your ear. "I'm meeting him in the parking lot outside where I work. He's signing the papers there."

"You're meeting him alone?" Elise's voice sparked through the phone and right into your ear. "Are you crazy?"

"Ehm…not really." You said, collecting a few things off your work desk, rearranging it like you always did at the end of the day. "I did the same thing when I handed him back the engagement ring, I don't see the problem in doing the same thing now."

"Of course you don't." Elise sighed. She had been your pillar throughout this whole process. Without her, you would simply be all alone, considering that your own parents begged you to stay with Ruben despite his betrayal. "Think about it, Y/N. Things were still very fresh when you handed back your engagement ring. There were still things that needed to be processed that may not have happened then because it all was so fresh. What if things have changed since then?"

"What things?" You frowned. Of all the things you could think of, what could possibly have changed? Ruben cheated, and now you wanted a divorce — end of.

"What if he cries?"

"What?" 

"What if Ruben gets down on his knees and begs for your forgiveness? What, then? Are you going to be able to withstand those manly tears of his?"

Your laughter was so violent that it made you cough. You needed a moment to collect yourself while Elise sighed in your ear. "Firstly, I'm a hundred percent sure that this won't happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because, I just am."

"But why, Y/N?" Ruben is a human being just like you and I? Why wouldn't he be capable of—."

"Ruben doesn't cry!"

Silence fell on both ends of the line. Your words echo in the distance.

By pitching your nose, you tried to soothe the headache that had been coming on since lunchtime. Nevertheless, you never meant to take out your irritation on the world, especially not Elise.

"Look…" you sighed. "Ruben doesn't show emotions like that. Never has and never will. That's just how he is a person, and frankly, for the first time in my life, I don't have a problem with that."

"So you believe that he will sign those divorce papers willingly, without a fight?"

"What is there to fight for? Ruben doesn't want me. He made that very clear the day that he cheated on me. 

Part 2

Part 3

[starlightwoofwoof]

🐞💜✨ Random DW x MLB AU Fun Facts, Featuring Random Doodles!!! YIPPEE [Part 1?? I think I’m gonna make this a series lol why not] ✨💜🐞

okay where do I start uhhhhhh let’s start with some fruitcake why not

🍓💖✨ Sprout, Cosmo, Dessert Despair and The Vine Guardian ✨💖🍓

I have now decided that Dessert and Guardian’s ship name is Protectivedessert :]

I feel like if they met, Dessert and Guardian would just hug each other for hours on end

Not sure which one of them is taller, but they might be the same height, idk-

If they are, Guardian is sulking and going limp in Dessert’s arms because he’s just that happy to see him 💖✨

I do feel like Guardian would trap Dessert and take care of him too much lol

I’m not sure about the specifics of Sprout’s akumatization, but I like to think it was because either he thought something bad happened to Cosmo and he got hurt or something bad did happen to Cosmo. Either way, it made Sprout feel terrible for not being able to help him

🦋💜✨ Allureium and Akumatization in general ✨💜🦋

about time I talked more about the main villain and his funky little powers!!

The way Allureium manipulates the toons changes between who he’s talking to. If the victim is more likely to give in and accept his deal, he’s nicer to them and tries to convince them that he’s trying to help them. (Goob, Toodles, etc.) However, if they’re not willing to succumb so easily, Allureium will just straight up bully them into accepting 💀 (Rodger, Sprout and even Glisten, as seen in my comic about his akumatization-)

Not sure what you would call the dark transformation stuff that releases out of the possessed item after the victim accepts, but the miraculous wiki refers to it as ‘ether’ (I personally like to call it transformation goop lol)

btw if you didn’t know, to free the akuma victims, you have to break their possessed item. The victims usually don’t remember what happened during their time as a villain

Akumas can basically change your whole brain chemistry, like, a toon can go from being friends with someone to completely despising them

This doesn’t happen in the show, but I like to think that the akuma victims show different side effects, as shown in the AU introduction- (headaches and aches in general, nausea, passing out for hours or even DAYS after their defeat depending on how powerful they were, etc.)

The toons react differently to their possessions afterwards, obviously- mainly depending on how aggressive their villain side is (some of them just accept that it happened and moved on, some of them feel guilty after but feel better eventually, some of them have genuine trauma from it …… *cough* G L I S T E N *cough*, etc.)

… omg what if the transformation goop is ichor in this AU AND ALL THEIR AKUMA FORMS ARE THE TWISTEDS OH MY GO- (sorry getting ahead of myself lol, still gotta figure out the cartoon)

🖤❤️✨ Drama King and Dazzle ✨❤️🖤

figured I’d give these guys their own section because you guys seemed to really like them last time :3

Drama King has complete control over both of their legs, but Dazzle still has control over their right arm

Drama hates having to share his “rise to fame” with Dazzle (it’s like with what I said about the whole changing thing- Razzle would normally love his brother dearly, but as Drama, he doesn’t anymore)

I feel like despite Drama being giggly and laughing all the time, he has some big anger issues. Especially when Dazzle is “nagging” to him about how he shouldn’t do what he’s doing, and how much he misses Razzle. The true Razzle

Someone reblogged with an idea of how Razzle got corrupted because of multiple cancellations and rejections to just be apart of backstage work, and I love the idea- cause y’know, it makes sense (and it’s angsty lol)

Dazzle tried to make Razzle feel better about the whole situation they were in, but I feel like Dazzle wouldn’t be … great at comforting people-

🍭🌈✨ Extra Fun Facts ✨🌈🍭

extra fun facts I couldn’t really fit into a whole category lol (it’s mostly about Basserker and Hatred lol)

I feel like Basserker and Hatred’s ship name would either be Sharkbite or Sharkattack or something like that :3

Basserker has a great sense of smell, but his nose is very sensitive, booping it would probably make him jolt, even if he’s expecting it

Hatred’s arms are longer than they should be

I feel like Shrimpo didn’t accept Allureium’s deal for him (“I HATE BEING AKUMATIZED”) …… until Allureium promised violence-

I feel like I should mention Dandy, since he isn’t the main character anymore- Shelly replaced him for the main protagonist role in this AU lol

Dandy runs a little supermarket with help from Pebble, of course :]

okie I think that’s all I can think of for now!! 💙✨

[prosperdemeter2]

begging for more rewrite snippets/drops/chapters/anything 😭

Your wish is my command

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Eddie smiled coyly, and it was such an obnoxiously attractive look on him that Buck had a feeling that, so long as he was looking at him like that, all of his unfounded insecurity would dissipate completely. "Maybe." Eddie shut the refrigerator, placed his cup of water squarely on the table, and leaned on his forearms until he was just a bit closer. "Depends on your answer." "I'm going to have to check with my fiance," Eddie's eyes lit up with his smile widening. "I don't think he'd be okay with it." "He might be able to be persuaded." Christopher gagged. "Stop it." He ordered them lightly. As though he didn't really care one way or another, but felt like the protest was necessary. "You want to come with?" Buck posed, half turning in his seat to look at the boy. Christopher pondered it, smaking his lips like Ali while he did, before shrugging lightly. "Okay." He agreed. "Can we get Pepa flowers? For her birthday?" "Her birthday is in March, kiddo." "So?" "So it's June." Eddie said slowly. Christopher blinked. "So?" Eddie shrugged in Buck’s direction. What can you do with this kid? His expression asked. And it was going to be a good day, no matter what Buck’s headache said. They deserved it. They deserved the world. He'd buy Christopher whatever flowers he wanted, no excuses needed. "I think it's almost Athena’s birthday." Buck remembered something from Bobby talking about it. "If you want to pick some out for her too." Christopher, with his heart of gold, beamed at the prospect. "Do you know what her favorite kind is?" "We can ask Michael." "Not her husband?" Eddie asked with a confused, and awfully amused, wrinkle of his forehead. "Bobby asks him every time." Buck shrugged. "And Michael asks May." Wow, Eddie mouthed.

But, really, the update would have been out so much sooner, but my computer deleted literally everything and it turns out writing nonstop for like a year... isn't a great idea 😂 it's coming! Annoyingly slow but coming!