WEEPING THIS IS SO CUTEEEE

Enrichment time !!! (maladaptive daydreaming whole listening to music and pretending fictional characters are in love with me)

in tears after this that was so beautiful oh my god ): <3

WHERE IT’S SAFE.

ellie williams x reader | fluff & a little bit of angst ♡ patching up ellie. wc: 1782

contains: descriptions of violence, disassociation, panic responses, emotional intimacy, intimate nudity (non-sexual).

a/n: im weeping and screaming

Enjoy ♡

The door slammed behind you as you locked it tight, your chest heaving. Ellie stumbled in after you, barely upright, her hoodie soaked in blood and something worse. Her hands were shaking. Her face was pale. And she wouldn't look at you.

"Sit," you said gently, guiding her toward the chair without waiting for a reply. She moved like she was in a daze, limbs stiff, haunted eyes still scanning the room like she wasn't convinced it was safe.

You crouched in front of her, already digging through your first aid kit with trembling fingers. "Ellie," you whispered. "I need to see."

She gave the smallest nod, and you peeled back her jacket—slow, careful not to jostle her too much. That's when you saw it. 

A long, raw gash along her ribs, blood crusted along her arm, scrapes up her neck. Nothing too deep, nothing infected—but it was bad enough.

Your heart clenched.

"They were everywhere," she rasped. "I—I almost didn't get out."

You swallowed hard and dipped a cloth in warm water. "But you did get out."

She didn't respond. Her gaze was locked somewhere far away.

Not just far—gone. Like she wasn't really in the room with you anymore.

Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, staring past your shoulder at nothing. Breathing shallow. Shoulders tense like she was still there, still fighting.

You dabbed at the blood carefully, your touch featherlight despite the tension in your chest.

She flinched.

"Sorry," you murmured.

"Doesn't hurt," she said quickly—too quickly.

You paused, watching the way her jaw clenched, how she wouldn't look at you.

Even like this—bleeding, trembling, barely pieced together—she was still trying to pretend she wasn't falling apart. 

Like if she said it enough, it might be true. Like staying tough meant she hadn't just survived hell.

But then... it happened again.

You saw it in her eyes first-the way the light dimmed, how her gaze slid past you and fixed on nothing. Her shoulders went rigid. 

Her breathing turned shallow, uneven. It was like someone had flipped a switch and pulled her under.

"Ellie," you breathed, softer now, familiar with the signs.

No answer.

She was dissociating again.

Her hands were still, fingers slightly curled, her whole body frozen like she was somewhere else—back in that alley, or that house, or wherever her mind had fled to escape the weight of it all.

You dropped the cloth. Moved closer.

"Ellie... hey. You're doing it again," you whispered, touching her knee gently.

"Come back to me."

You brought her hand to your chest, pressing it flat against your heartbeat.

Steady. Real.

"That's me. Right here."

Still nothing.

So you reached up, cradling her face in both hands this time. Her skin was cold.

Her lips slightly parted, breath shallow.

"Ellie," you said again, firmer now—but still soft. "Look at me, baby. You're safe."

Her eyes twitched. A small flicker of something passed through them. Then, slowly, finally, she blinked—and her focus shifted back to you.

"There you are," you whispered, thumb brushing along her cheek. "It's okay. I've got you."

Her voice broke the silence, barely audible.

"I thought if I died out there, no one would even know I was gone."

Your breath hitched. She wasn't crying, but her voice trembled like she was holding back a flood.

"I kept thinking about you. Wondering if you'd be waiting... or if you'd just think I disappeared."

You leaned in and pressed your forehead to hers.

"I'd never stop looking for you," you whispered. "Not ever."

You stayed there for a moment, just breathing together. Then, gently, you reached for her other hand—still bloody, scraped raw— but you didn’t care. You brought it to your lips. You kissed each knuckle, one by one.

"I like your hands," she murmured, voice small.

You smiled softly. "Yeah?"

"They're warm. Not like mine."

"I like yours too," you said. "They're strong. They saved us both more than once."

You went back to cleaning the gash on her side, slower now, more careful.

Every time she winced, you soothed her with soft words. When you finished, you pressed the last gauze into place and leaned in to kiss just above it—gentle, reverent.

Then another kiss. One at her temple.

One at the corner of her mouth.

And finally—when she leaned into you— you kissed her lips.

It was slow and tender, her breath catching like she wasn't used to being touched so softly. Her hands gripped your shirt, grounding herself, and you could feel the way her whole body trembled—not from the pain anymore, but from letting go.

When you pulled away, her eyes fluttered open, glassy and unsure.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"I'm right here," you said. "You're safe. You did everything you could, and you came home."

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder.

You held her tightly, burying your nose in her hair, breathing her in. Blood and salt and the faint scent of her skin beneath it all.

"Don't let go," she said.

"Never."

You stayed there like that for a long time

—just holding her. Letting her come down. Letting her remember she was still alive, still loved.

And when you finally pulled her close and helped her onto the bed, she let you. Curled into your chest like she belonged there.

The world outside could wait.

Tonight, all that mattered was that she made it back to you. And you weren't letting her go.

You helped her lie down on your shared bed.

You kissed every bruise. Every scrape.

Her fingers found yours and didn’t let go.

She curled into your chest like it was the only place she could breathe.

“I keep thinking…” she whispered against your neck. “What if I never get to grow old with you?”

Your heart cracked open.

“Don’t say that,” you breathed, holding her tighter.

“I think about it all the time, every time I’m out there. Fighting.” She said. “That one day I won’t come back, and you’ll be here. And I’ll just be—gone. And I won’t get to see what you look like with wrinkles and grey hair. Or how your voice sounds when you say still love me after fifty years.”

You kissed her hair.

“We’ll get that,” you said. “You and me.  Even if it takes the world falling apart.”

She buried her face in your neck. “Promise me.” She said while her hand reached for your waist.

“I promise.”

A long silence.

Then: “Can I touch you?”

You blinked. “Of course.”

Her hand slipped under your shirt—not with lust, but reverence. She traced your ribs, your waist, the soft skin of your stomach like she was trying to memorize every inch.

“I thought about this when I thought I was gonna die,” she murmured. “Not sex. Not anything like that. Just.. this. Feeling your skin. Knowing you’re alive.”

She reached for the hem of your shirt. “Is it okay if i..?”

Your eyes met hers, all softness and trust. “Yeah.” You breathed.

You let her take your shirt off. Then hers. Just warmth, skin to skin.

Her lips brushed your collarbone. 

“I love you,” she said, voice shaking. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“I know, Els.” You whispered. “I love you.”

She kissed your sternum, then the side of your chest, her hands roaming gently. Then she hesitated, her fingers hovering over your inner thigh. 

“Can I?” She asked again, quieter. 

You nodded.

She let her palm settle there, her thumb tracing delicate circles on the inside of your thing. Not near your center. Just close enough to make you whimper.

Not from desire.

From how good it felt to be touched like this. Like she knew you. Like she cherished you.

“Shit,” she whispered. “You’re so soft here.”

Your breath shook. You squeezed her hand. 

“I didn’t know being touched like this could feel like.. breathing.”

Her head dropped against your shoulder. 

“I almost died thinking I’d never get to lay here again. Just like this.”

You didn’t speak. Just kissed her temple. 

Then her voice cracked, slurred with exhaustion.

“I don’t wanna be a ghost in your life. I don’t want you to remember me—I want to be here. With you.”

Your throat burned.

“You’re not a ghost,” you whispered. “You’re here. You’re mine.”

She looked at you then, eyes wide and wet.

“I would’ve come back from the dead just to hold your hand one more time.”

And you let her. Let her explore your body like it was the only thing keeping her sane.

Let her kiss the hollow of your neck, the curve of your stomach, the scars you never let anyone see.

Her breath hitched. Her mouth hovered lower, pressing the faintest kiss over the curve of your chest—just above where your heart beat loud and steady beneath her lips.

Not sexual desire.

Not need.

Just longing.

Like she was trying to tell you something she didn't know how to say. Like kissing you there might be the only way to make you understand.

You felt her exhale shakily against your skin.

Her hands didn't wander. They just held you.

And still, that kiss burned.

You let her love you.

Not with lust.

But with every ache in her chest. Every brush of her fingers. Every shaky breath she took against your skin.

She pulled back just enough to look at you-really look at you. Eyes dazed, reverent, like seeing you this close had unraveled something in her.

"You're so fucking pretty," she whispered, voice hoarse, like it physically hurt to hold that truth inside any longer. "Like—it hurts to look at you. I don’t deserve it.”

And before you could answer, her mouth was on yours.

Not rushed. Not hungry.

It was slow. Deep. Endless.

The kind of kiss that felt like falling into the center of the earth.

You whimpered into her mouth, and her breath hitched. Her hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as she tilted her head and kissed you deeper.

 You could feel the tremble in her fingers. The ache behind every movement.

"Fuck. Ellie," you breathed against her lips—her name breaking out of you in a soft, shaking moan.

She gasped at the sound. Pressed closer.

She kissed you again, harder this time, but not rough. Just full. A kiss like gravity. Like a tether pulling you both back to the earth.

She moaned your name into your mouth, voice breaking with it—like saying it too loud might shatter her.

You didn't know how long you stayed like that, tangled in each other, your mouths slow and warm and desperate with affection. But when you finally pulled away, your breaths were fast and shallow, hearts thudding like drums.

Your foreheads stayed pressed together.

"I love you," she said, wrecked. "God, I love you so fucking much."

You kissed her once more-soft and slow— then eased her down into the blanket, tucking her against your chest. Her breath hitched once, then began to steady. Your hand moved gently through her hair as her body relaxed, piece by piece.

She fell asleep there, wrapped in you like a lifeline.

She didn't flinch in her sleep this time. Just breathed. Soft and steady. Like she was home.

whew.

Critcism and ideas are heavily appreciated (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

thank you for reading! ♡

Yarrow and Feverfew

Art trade with the incredible @liscepu, I'm so grateful for the chance! Thank you for fueling my love for the game again <3

this series is my new favourite thing oh my gosh please read it, spider hazel has my entire heart

The Masc Behind the Mask (4)

Summary: Hazel gets into a fight at the bank. And of course, you just have to save her.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), violence, mentions of bruises, cuts, and blood, threats of death, fainting, just Spider-Woman stuff

Word Count: 5019

Note: I got really annoyed at writing action because uhm it ls hard so the fight scenes are really lame. I also added a special character in here who you might recognize from Spiderverse teehee - Bia <3

Hazel hid in an obstructed alley, quickly scanning her surroundings before kicking off her shoes, sending them tumbling towards the nearby garbage can. She reached into her backpack to retrieve her suit while wrestling her jeans off, hopping on one foot, causing her to tumble into a heap of discarded cardboard boxes– before she managed to put on her suit in place. She shot her backpack to the dumpster with some webs to keep it in place, then leaped onto the roof. 

Perched on a ledge high above the street, Hazel looked down at the neighborhood and took a deep breath.

"Okay, this is fine. You’re fine! You basically left (Y/N) all alone in your room without a proper explanation and she probably thinks you’re robbing a bank! But this is fine," Hazel mumbled to herself, adjusting the web-shooters on her wrists before jumping down. 

She swung through the neighborhood, listening intensely to the sound of police sirens. As she descended upon the robbery at the bank, she surveyed the area, calculating her approach. The bank’s door seemed to have been blasted open by some form of intense firearm, but other than that, it was hard to see exactly what was going on inside. 3 police cars flashing red and blue circled the scene of the crime, yet the officers seemed to hesitate to interact with the building.

Hazel silently swung closer, landing behind a familiar officer. 

“Officer Morales,” Hazel said, startling the officer. Morales swiftly turned to the voice, a hostile glare etched across her face when she saw the outrageous Spider-Woman standing before her. 

“We’re handling it,” Officer Morales scoffed, tossing her braid. “We don’t need help from unidentified vigilantes in spandex suits.” 

Hazel laughed, giving a slap on the officer’s back. “Come on, Rio. Are we going to do this every time?” 

Rio glared at Spiderwoman, sighing before reluctantly pulling out her notepad. 

“Three suspects inside the building. They’ve got high-tech gear– dangerous stuff I’ve never seen before. The bank’s closed, so no civilians are in there, but we’ve lost a few officers already.” She glanced at Spider-Woman. “It’s risky going in.” 

Hazel gave a nod. “That’s why I’m here. Soon as I send out the officers, take them to a safe distance.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do…” The officer grumbled, but nonetheless, waved her fellow police over to update them on Spider-Woman’s appearance. 

Squaring her shoulders, Hazel strode towards the bank’s entrance. Her priority was clear– evacuate the officers, contain the threat, and get back to you and clear up the misunderstanding of her being an ex-convict/bank robber. 

You know, if you haven't left and called the cops already. 

As Hazel entered the bank, her eyes darted from corner to corner– rubble and cash were scattered all around on the ground, with the chairs and ATM machines smashed to pieces. It seemed like the robbers had already emptied out the ATMs, and had moved onto the teller drawers and vaults. As Hazel moved deeper into the bank, her senses heightened– sounds of shuffling footsteps, obnoxious laughter, and some form of– technology?

With a swift, controlled motion, she jumped onto the wall then to the ceiling, climbing the walls upside down towards the noise. She first saw a group of officers pinned to the ground by something invisible, placed by a robber holding a dark trumpet-shaped device. The second robber was holding a massive firearm, with a series of circular indentations giving off an odd blue glow. Hazel deduced that was what blasted the door off. The last robber seemed to be wearing a backpack that extended 2 long metal arms and talons that was grabbing as much cash as it could from the vault, stuffing it into a bag. Each of them wore a black mask, with only their eyes and mouths carved out.    

“Trumpet Man, Blaster, and… Noodle Arms,” Hazel mumbled to herself, giving each of her targets nicknames so that the author doesn’t have to write ‘robber’ a bunch of times.

Hazel slowly descended down, hanging from a web upside down until she hovered in the middle of the distracted robbers. The trio didn’t notice her until she cleared her throat. 

“Hey, guys! Can I make a withdrawal real quick?” 

In a swift, calculated motion, Hazel webbed Blaster and Noodle Arm’s eyes as soon as they turned around. Their shouts of surprise were muffled as she leapt towards Trumpet Man, where the hostages were pinned down. Trumpet Man tried to hit Spider-Woman with his weapon still pointed at the officers— and Hazel easily dodged the pathetic attempts, giving a good punch to his face. The device fell to the ground, and the officers were free. 

“Get out of here!” Hazel yelled to the officers. They obeyed as Trumpet Man tried to reach for the device on the floor. Hazel used her webs to grab it first, then attempted to rip it apart. 

“God, what is this made of?” Hazel mumbled at the complicated design of the weapon. After a few hits, a crack echoed through the room as the weapon gave away. She was surprised at the energy core— a small orb, the size of a marble, which radiated blue. It was unlike anything she had seen before. Hazel pocked the orb and threw the rest of the machinery pieces towards Trumpet Man as she felt her body snatched by two forceful hands— Noodle Arms had lunged, catching her off guard. 

“Looks like Spider-Girl’s come to play,” Noodle Arms sang, pulling Hazel’s body forward then smashing her to the ground. As her body made contact with the concrete, she grabbed onto a fallen chair and threw it towards Noodle Arms, causing him to fall back and lose grip on Hazel. 

She twisted her body and broke free, somersaulting backward and landing in a crouched position. “Nice try, but I’ve already dealt with a guy with 6 extra arms. 2 arms? That’s child’s play.”

She moved closer towards Blaster, who had been completely disinterested in whatever Hazel and the other robbers had been doing. As Hazel stomped closer, his attention shifted from the money bag to Spider-Woman, his eyes completely apathetic. 

“Alright, let’s finish this up,” Hazel said. 

Blaster cackled. He pointed the weapon towards Hazel, its entire shape pulsing with a blue electric glow. Electricity crackled around its barrel, as an unsteady vibration filled the air. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

And he pulled the trigger. 

Your breaths came in shallow gasps as you approached the bank. You had run for what felt like a good 20 minutes, which was enough to get you winded. Which was lowkey embarrassing, but you had no time to dwell on your lack of stamina. You latched onto the nearby policeman, heart beating out of your chest. 

“Officer, please, my friend is in there–”

The officer gently pulled you away, attempting to hold you steady. “-There shouldn’t be any civilians in there, kid. Calm down.” 

You shook your head. “No, You don’t understand— my friend, she was in juvie, and I think she’s being blackmailed into helping the robbery or something, and you need to help her–” 

“-Juvie?” The officer cocked his head, then leaned in closer, serious. “Okay, I’m going to have to write this down. So you’re saying one of the robbers is a teen?”

“She’s not a robber— At least I don’t think— I—” You fumbled, not wanting to get Hazel arrested. She didn’t exactly say what she was doing, and you didn’t want to get her into deeper trouble than she already was in. But what could you say to the officers without handing Hazel over to them as if she was a criminal? 

Before you could continue your words, a loud BANG exploded from the bank. 

Without thinking, you ran into the building. You could hear the officer trying to stop you but you ignored them, sprinting towards the door– or rather, the lack of one— and you immediately began screaming. 

“Hazel! Hazel!” You screamed, running into the building. You ignored the mess of broken concrete on the floor, eyes scanning for any signs of your friend. “Hazel!”

You could hear coughing from the deeper part of the bank, and you ran up to the sound, waving off the dust that settled all around you. Your eyes caught sight of the far away wall which had completely smashed down, creating a gaping hole identical to the one of the bank’s door. The air hung heavy, making every breath a struggle. Amidst the confusion, you spotted the friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman sprawled on the ground, her body heaving with coughs as she struggled to regain her breath. Around her was a chaotic scene– remnants of a recent explosion littering the area. 

You suddenly felt an immense amount of panic seeing Spider-Woman, the literal hero of this entire place in such a shaky state. You slowly backed away, your body reacting and telling you to fuck everything and run out of the door– but you stepped on a particular chunk of wall, making a very loud CRUNCH. 

Hazel immediately turned towards the sound, her heart dropping when she saw you. 

“Don’t come any closer!” Hazel screamed, scampering to her feet. “Turn around and run!” 

You tried to do as you were told– you really did. But your body froze up in a state of fright, your eyes focusing on the three robbers that slowly emerged from the wall’s hole. You pointed towards them and Hazel turned, groaning before running up to you. 

“What are you–” -Hazel deepened her voice. “-I mean, what are you doing here, uh, miss?” 

“I-I’m looking for my friend,” You choked out, suddenly realizing what a stupid idea this was. Spider-Woman was here, which meant this situation was a Spider-Woman level threat. You could be in real danger. But so was Hazel. “Her name is Hazel and she- she’s in here. She has blue eyes and– and dark, really messy sort of hair.”

“It’s not that messy,” Hazel mumbled, grimacing at the word ‘friend.’ She then grabbed you and pushed you out of the way as a concrete chunk from the wall was thrown towards the two of you. “Watch out!” 

You tumbled to the floor, and Hazel quickly grabbed you and got low behind the mess, whispering to you. 

“Listen to me. You’re going to do as I say.”

“But my friend–” 

“-She’s fine. She’s not here. She’s waiting for you outside, okay?” Hazel argued. “I’m going to distract the robbers, and as I’m doing that, I need you to run towards the door. Just run, don’t look back, and I’ll handle everything, okay?” 

You hesitated. 

“Answer me!” Hazel yelled. “Okay?” 

“Okay!” You yelled back, letting Spider-Woman give you a pat on the head before swinging towards the robbers.  

You scrambled to your feet, the only thing in your ears the rushing sound of your own heartbeat. Spider-Woman’s familiar voice echoed in your mind; Just run, don’t look back. But as the floor rumbled and walls cracked, you couldn’t stop yourself from turning around, your eyes following Spider-Woman as she confronted robbers. 

Hazel, not knowing you were stubbornly still in the building, intensely fought against the robbers. She moved with austere agility, using her webs to swing between the men, landing kicks and punches through the bits of rubble they threw at her. 

Trumpet man, without his weapon, pretty much rendered useless hits before Hazel managed to web him by the wall. Noodle Arms lashed out, trying to capture her, but Hazel was always a step ahead, dodging and weaving through the attacks. 

While she was distracted, Blaster adjusted the dials on his weapon, his fingers moving over the controls with an angry precision. Recovering the weapon’s blue glow, he aimed it at Spider-Woman. 

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw you, amidst the wreckage and dust— face pale with fear as you stared at Spider-woman’s movements. 

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, realizing you have been noticed by a robber. You had to move. You had to move. But your legs felt like twigs, about to break if you tried to take another step. 

An amused grin spread across Blaster’s face, as he redirected his aim towards you. 

Hazel’s spider-senses instantly flared, a tingling sensation shooting through her body. Her head turned towards the warning, just in time to take in the sight of a weapon aimed directly at you, its blue glow intensifying. 

“(Y/N)!”

Without a second thought, she pushed off the ground with all her remaining strength, launching herself through the air.

The weapon fired, a blinding burst of blue energy hurtling towards you. 

Your body recoiled as a reaction, eyes shutting tightly expecting the blow. 

A sudden, violent crash echoed through the bank, followed by a strangled cry. 

You braced yourself, waiting for the inevitable.

But seconds passed, and the expected pain didn’t come. 

You braced yourself, eyes tightly shut, waiting for the inevitable. But seconds passed, and the expected pain didn’t come.

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, looking through the haze of smoke and debris. Spider-Woman was on the ground, her body shaking from the attack. She had flown into the path of the blast, twisting mid-air to take the full force of the hit meant for you– sending a shockwave through the room and throwing her back against the floor, which had spiraling cracks showing the brutality of the hit.

The impact of the blast had knocked the wind out of Hazel, her every breath a struggle against the pain radiating from her chest and back. She blinked away the dust that clouded her vision, trying to push herself back up on her feet. But each movement sent sharp jolts of pain through her body, making her fall back down with her every effort. 

Noodle Arms, encouraged by the hero’s weakened state, closed in on her. His mechanical limbs headed straight for Spider-Woman’s body, as she forced herself back up. Swaying, she attempted to fight off the strikes, protectively staying in front of you.

 “You’re done, Spider-Girl,” Noodle Arms sneered, his metallic hands heading for her face. In a quick defense, Hazel pulled her face back, letting the claws snag just a bit of the fabric of her mask. With a yank, the fabric tore free. 

Fuck. 

A split-second of disbelief froze Hazel in place. The rush of adrenaline that had sustained her through the battle ebbed away, leaving her momentarily defenseless— letting a blow directly in her stomach. 

Hazel fell back, landing right by your feet as you flinched back. She immediately tried to cover her face with her hands— but you had already seen her, your eyes widening at the sight of the familiar face.

Hazel’s heart stopped.

Not like this. 

Not like this.

I didn’t want her to find out like this. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Not like this. 

You stared at the familiar face with a stunned expression, your mouth agape.  

“...Hazel?” 

Your body went rigid, realizing that the hero you thought could withstand anything, save anyone— was your Hazel Callahan. 

And she was bleeding out in front of you.

Your shock gave just enough time for Noodle Arms to grab you. Before Hazel could scream your name, she felt a cruel blow to her head. She toppled to the floor, body completely limp. 

“Hazel!” 

Noodle Arms laughed, grabbing Hazel’s body and tossing her over his shoulder. You struggled against the strong grip on you, eyes tearing up in utter panic.

The man then nodded towards you with a hungry expression. “What about her?” 

The man with the glowing weapon walked closer to you, examining your fearful face and then back at the unconscious Spider-Woman, as if to deduct the relationship between the two of you.

Then he grinned. 

“Bring her with us.”

“She’s slept enough.”  A voice rang. “Wake her up.” 

Blaster raised his leg, delivering a merciless kick to Hazel’s head. You gasped as she crumpled to the ground, pain searing through her head as her consciousness started to return. 

“You hear me?” The man sneered. He grabbed her by her head and pulled her up to his face. “Get up.” 

“Hhng,” Hazel groaned. Her vision started to return– and within her blurry sight she could see you, sobbing on the concrete ground. You weren’t even tied up, just far too scared to move even an inch from your submissive position. Hazel instinctively tried to reach you, but realized that she was chained– her arms tied up behind her with some metal cuffs. Hazel pathetically struggled against the restraints. “Don’t— not her…”

“Keep your eyes on me,” said Blaster, gripping Hazel’s head tighter. “If you want to keep her alive, look at me.” 

Hazel gave you a weak look of reassurance before glaring at the man in front of her. Trumpet Man and Noodle Arms sneered behind him. 

“Yeah, alright, you got me,” Hazel taunted, head spinning from the brutality of the hold. “How does it feel to win against a teenage girl?” 

The man grinned in amusement, scoffing at Hazel’s unwavering humor– before throwing an intense punch to Hazel’s stomach. Before she could properly process the blow, the fingers tangled in her hair forcefully jerked her head with a savage force. Her head snapped backward, setting her up for another brutal hit aimed at her jaw. The impact sent her body to the ground, slamming her onto the cold floor.

“Hazel!” You shrieked, quickly shuffling to her side. Her chest barely moved up and down as you panicked, pulling her to her knees and caressing her face. “Hazel, Hazel…” 

“You okay…?” Hazel whispered. You tearfully nodded. 

Good. Hazel sighed, leaning into your hand against her cheek.

“Teenagers these days…” Blaster grumbled, frowning at the two girls on the floor. “Why did you have to show up to our little robbery, huh? Now everything is complicated.” 

“It’s not that complicated, really,” Hazel wheezed. “You’re bad guys. You do bad things. I’m a good guy. I make sure bad things don’t happen.” 

She earned a cackle from the men, as Blaster crouched down in front of Hazel. 

“A good guy, huh? You think what you’re doing is good? And what we do is bad?”

“Oh, here we go with the villain origin story,” Hazel mumbled. “It doesn’t matter what your motivation is– you were hurting people. You were hurting officers.” 

“And what do they think about you?” Blaster scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he paced around the floor. “Spider-Woman, a vigilante who ignores the righteous law and pursues evil… even the cops hate you. You think you're so righteous, but you're just as much a problem as we are."

You watched Hazel clench her jaw. He had hit a nerve— Spider-Woman did not entirely have a positive image in the eyes of the law. 

Angry, you spoke up. “That doesn't justify what you're doing here. You chose this path. You chose to hurt people.”

Blaster nodded, as if to reminisce about his decision. "Choices, huh? We all make choices. Some of us choose survival. Some of us choose power. And some of us," he glanced pointedly at Hazel, "choose to play hero, even when no one asked them to."

He knelt down beside Hazel, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You think you're better than us? That you're untouchable because you wear a mask and swing from buildings? You're just as much a criminal in their eyes."

Hazel glared right back at him, but her mind was trying to figure out exactly where she was. It was definitely not the bank— based on the interior, it seemed to be an abandoned apartment somewhere, probably a hideout of sorts. There were two doors in the room.

Blaster stood back up, the blue glow from the weapon in his hands casting light on his hardened features. He saw you eye the color suspiciously and grinned.  

"You want to know about this stuff?" He fiddled with the machine, pressing a couple buttons and taking out a blue orb. "It's not just some fancy power source. This blue glow is the key to everything we've been planning.

"Years ago, I was a nobody. Scrapping for something, anything, in the mines for money. Until one day, I hit a vein. Not just any ore—a new material for a source of power. Unstable, unpredictable, but damn powerful if you know how to capture it and handle it."

“And you chose to build weapons with it?” 

Blaster straightened up, his gaze piercing through the orb in his fingers. “Smart girl. With weapons like these, the higher ups would want in. They can finally change the game. No more petty crimes. No more wars. I want recognition, respect—the kind that comes when governments realize what I can offer. This bank heist? It's not just about money. It's about making a statement. Showing them what we're capable of— what we can sell."

The man placed the orb back in his weapon, firing the machine on. You watched Hazel gulp as the machine whirred back to power. 

“Okay, well, that’s great for you, but my arm is falling asleep,” Hazel rasped, in a sort of pleading way. “Can we go?” 

“Oh, sure.” Blaster grinned again, with the same sadistic hunger as before. “But, before you go, I think there should be a lesson of what happens when a little girl acts like a hero and messes with the big bad guys.” 

Hazel’s breath hitched as the men behind him stepped forward. 

Blaster gave a nod towards you.

 “Kill her.” 

“No,” Hazel spluttered. “No!” 

“No, please, no,” You tried, stumbling away from the man who walked towards you with malice in his eyes. 

Hazel thrashed against her chains, causing her to fall to the floor again. “Stop! I’ve learned my lesson! I’VE LEARNED MY LESSON!” 

“Bet you have, doll.” Blaster chuckled. “But I gotta make sure we don’t see your ass swinging through my neighborhood ever again.” 

Hazel's heart raced as desperation hit her body, fighting against the chains that bound her. The cold metal cut into her wrists, sending sharp pains up her arms with each futile tug. Her eyes met with yours— she had never seen you so scared. 

“Please…” Hazel begged. 

Blaster's expression softened, but it was gone as it had arrived. Unmoved by her pleas, he nodded once again, ordering the arms to creepily stretch towards you. The metallic talons grabbed your throat. You tried to fight the pressure, clawing at the machine. But you had no chance, feeling your airway close as Hazel’s voice began to fade.

Before he could snap your neck, a sudden commotion erupted from the entrance of the room. Shouts and footsteps echoed through the apartment, startling everyone in the room. Noodle Arms spun around, his arms losing grip, momentarily distracted by the unexpected intrusion.

“It’s the cops!” Trumpet Man yelled. “How did they know we were here?!”

“It’s your fault! I told you we gotta get farther from the crime scene than this.” 

“Shut up,” Blaster grumbled, looking outside the window hastily. “Alright, this is our chance to leave another mark. Let’s blast through them. ”

As the men started to gather the bags of money from the floor while bickering, you quickly crawled back to Hazel. 

“Hazel— Hazel, we gotta go.”

“Yeah, just— help me up, please?” 

You helped her up, eyeing the door behind you. That was the door you came through— the door to the stairs. You supported Hazel’s body, your arm bracing her shoulders. She winced in pain as you practically dragged her to the stairs, giving a quick look back at the robbers. 

Blaster stared right at you, then at your reddened neck, as if to give a final warning.

You hastily turned back, hurrying Hazel to the stairs. 

Every step felt like eternity, Hazel’s weight heavy against you. Hearing her breath so uneven and haggard made your body run cold— you couldn't help but worry— what if she died here? The cuffs on her wrists weren’t helping either, clinking with each motion. 

You could feel Hazel leaning more and more heavily on you, her feet faltering as she struggled to keep pace. You had to admit your own fatigue— the stairs were too steep, too long. Your legs trembled as you heard footsteps above you— was it the police? The robbers?

“Come on, Hazel,” you whispered urgently, coaxing her down another step. Hazel attempted to put her foot down but she stumbled, gripping you tighter. 

“I’m sorry,” she gasped out, holding you so, so close. You could feel her entire body temperature dropping. The tears she did so well to hold now were dripping down her cheeks. “I can’t. I can’t do it, I can’t.” 

Her broken voice shattered your heart. You placed her gently down the stairs, helping her sit down. 

“Hey, hey— it’s okay. We’ll take a break. Just for a moment, okay? You’re doing so good.” You wiped her tears from her face, moving the strands of her hair out from her vision.

“I’m sorry-” Hazel continued. “This is all my fault I’m so sorry-”

“-No, it’s not your fault,” Hazel coughed. “It’s not your fault. You saved me.”

You stared at Hazel’s appearance— her usually shy and vibrant features were now marred by blood and streaks of dirt. Her dark hair was tousled and matted against her blue and purple face— she was a mess. So were you. You two had to get out of here.

“Hazel, we gotta get down,” You said. “We have to get back home.”

“No– not home. Not to my mom,” Hazel tensed. “Not my mom. She doesn’t know. No– no one can know.” 

“So where do we go?” 

Instead of answering, hazel’s eyelids drooped. She leaned her head against your shoulder as a weak groan escaped her lips.

"No, no, no, Hazel, stay with me," you sniffed, struggling to keep her upright. You adjusted your hold, keeping her steady as panic settled in your stomach again. 

You found yourself sobbing, clutching onto Hazel’s body as it slowly lost warmth. You couldn’t possibly bring Hazel down all on your own— and even then, you were sure where you were and how to get back home. 

“Hazel, I don't know what to do,” You begged, looking around the dark, empty stairwell. “I don’t know what to do…” 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind. You turned around as a bright flashlight shined into your face. You flinched at the light cutting through the darkness, hugging Hazel tighter. 

“Police! Don’t move!”

It was an officer with dark brown hair braided in a ponytail. She lowered her gun as she saw you crying, her eyes landing on Hazel’s spider-suit. Her stern expression morphed into shock, walking closer to you. 

You held onto Hazel, protecting her from the stranger. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” The officer insisted, her eyes traveling to the cuffs on Hazel’s wrists. She stared in silence for a moment before turning to you.

“What’s your name?” 

“...(Y/N).” 

The officer sighed and looked around the stairwell. Her walkie talkie buzzed, asking for a response. Your anxiety spiked— if people found out Hazel was Spider-Woman, wouldn’t that put her in danger? 

Sensing your terror, the officer put a hand over your mouth before answering the walkie talkie.

"Stairwell is clear. No sign of the suspects. Proceeding to the next floor. Over."

You stared at her with glistening eyes as she let Hazel fall into her arms, carrying her bridal style. 

“Can you walk?” She asked, to which you quietly nodded. 

The officer began descending through the darkness. You followed her, tears still streaming down your face as the officer silently guided you down the stairs.

You never thought you would ever be in the backseat of a police car, but here you were, in the middle of the night, with an unconscious Hazel leaned against your lap. The officer had managed to break the cuffs, letting you see the cuts and bruises on Hazel’s wrist. It matched your neck.

You looked outside a window. Rain had begun to fall, each sound of raindrops hitting the roof of the car. It was almost calming, if you weren’t thinking about the fact that Hazel Callahan was Spider-Woman and that both of you almost died today. 

“How old is she?” 

The officer’s voice interrupted your thoughts, making you jump. You turned your head to the front of the car. You realized she was talking about Hazel.

“...Eighteen.” 

The answer seemed to hurt the officer, as she muttered a curse word under her breath.

“...I have a kid her age,” she said. “I’d do anything to keep him safe.”

You immediately understood what she meant.  

‘I’m not risking my son’s life by bringing you to my home.’ 

Instead, you gave her your address. You couldn’t bring her to a hospital, at least, not with what she was wearing. You just had to somehow sneak the two of you to your room.

The officer continued. “You begged me not to take you to a hospital tonight, but I want you two to get checked tomorrow, alright? My husband works as a nurse. Tell him I sent you and he won’t ask questions.”

“Thank you, Officer…” you searched for her name. 

“Morales. Don’t thank me.” She stared at you from her rearview mirror, a stern look in her eyes. “And kid?” 

You stared back. 

“I don’t ever want to see you again.” 

Her words were sharp, but once again, you understood the soft meaning behind them. 

“Yes, ma’am…”

Officer Morales gave a slight nod, her eyes briefly softening in the mirror before focusing back on the road.

You looked down at Hazel, watching the passing street lights illuminating her battered face. So fragile, yet so strong. You reached down to hold Hazel’s hand, hoping the heat from your skin will warm her. You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment, listening to the rhythmic sound of the rain and the hum of the engine. 

The city continued to blur outside the window. And you too, felt yourself blur. 

Previous Chapter: The Set-Up for Chapter 4

Next Chapter: That One Patch-Up Scene in Films

@hardbeingcasual @koryianders @lottiematthewsceo @sourgummywormsss @1-danid @awenthealchemist @butterflymagic415 @samoozi @kyleeservopoulos @treehuggerfrvr @yokurts @hikaru97 @randomhoex @damnkehlani14 @byhuenii @ship-enthusiast @lamolaine @lovepityparties @cinematicdifls @sndixz

pretty girl, i love her sm ): ♡

karen jones

so i've been playing a game

JESUS CHRISTTTTT

we know how jealous vi would go down, what are your thoughts on vi x jealous!reader? esp if r got an attitude about it?

ohhhh my god okay no but lets talk about this -- bc ur sooo right anon, there's a lot of jealous!vi (for good reason, she's possessive don't get me wrong) but i feel like if you were to get jealous, she'd get such a kick out of it --

she'd tease you, lean into it for a bit (not far enough to actually upset you, of course) but she likes the way you pout, likes the way you get a little huffy, likes the way you tuck into her side just a bit tighter after she's leaned juuuust a bit too close to another girl at the bar -- maybe she was trying to catch something the other girl was saying ("it was so loud in there, baby! i didn't wanna be rude...") or she was trying to catch a whiff of the perfume the other girl was wearing bc she wanted to buy it for you ("it smelled so good on her but... god, it would smell delicious on you.")

and if you got a bit snappy, if you got a bit petulant, all the better. bc lemme tell you brat tamer!vi is here to play, and here to stay. she'd lean back, watch you work yourself up with her arms crossed, an amused little smirk playing at her lips. and when you're done complaining, she'd cock her head --

"yeah? you all finished?"

you nearly stamp your feet, "i just -- i didn't like it, okay?"

vi chuckles, "i could fill a library with all the things you don't like, pretty girl." she makes her way towards you, slow, steady, in no particular hurry one way or the other, "hot milk, cilantro," she starts to list them off on her fingers, "when i sleep in too late for get up too early," here, she grins, reaching forward to tug your chin towards her, giving your face a tiny shake, "when i talk to other girls at bars..." she murmurs, her body now pressed against yours, and you can feel her -- all of her, pushed against you, crowding you back till you topple onto your sofa, your breath coming in short pants.

"what about all the things i don't like, hm?" she asks, rhetorical. you sigh, licking your lips. she gets down low, props one of her arms across your legs to look up into your eyes, her gaze sharp and steady all at once. "what're you gonna do about those, sweetness?" she asks.

you bite your lips, shrugging.

"well, lucky for you... i've got a few ideas," vi says, grinning as she reaches up to rub a thumb along your bottom lip, a tiny gasp stitching out of you as you let your mouth fall open. your lashes flutter; your glance up to meet her eyes -- they're dark, pupils blown wide as she presses the pad of her thumb passed your willing lips.

"there's the good girl i've been looking for."

i’m dizzy

warnings: strap on usage (r!receiving), top ellie, bottom reader, overstimulation, bunnygirl reader, afab reader, mentions of reader wearing a skirt. not proof read cause i'm half asleep sooo

"god, fuck– fuck, just like that, baby." ellie moaned as her eyes watched your swollen, sopping pussy suck her strap in deeper for what felt like the thousandth time tonight.

you squealed from your spot below her, your hands meeting her abs in an attempt to push her away. "ellie! shit, babe, it's too much!" you babbled desperately, your legs flailing so much that ellie had to grab your ankles, slamming her hips against yours particularly harshly for almost kicking her in the face.

your ears flopped down on either side of your head, nose scrunching up with every sniffle, "watch what you're doing, bunny." she murmured, pushing your legs up against your chest.

a weak cry tore from your throat, your fluffy cottontail twitching against the mattress. ellie's eyes were fixed on your breasts, leaning down to latch her lips onto one of your sensitive nipples. your hands clawed at her back, giving up on pushing her away.

this was, what, the third orgasm she's pulled from you tonight? you knew there was nothing stopping her. not when you saw the way she was eyeing you in your pretty skirt earlier, watching how your bunny tail peeked out from the little hole you cut through your skirt so it'd be more comfortable for you.

you loved your girlfriend, you really did, and you loved how much she adored your bunny parts too. your exes weren't the most... accepting. but ellie was, and that made you happy.

cut to tonight, you'd lost track of what hour it was, whimpering and scratching her back to try and find some kind of solace.

ellie's teeth grazed your nipple and you cried out, your back arching off the bed. your skirt was bunched up uncomfortably around your hips, making you squirm even more. you wanted to take it off, but ellie just pushed your hands away, muttering "stop tryna ruin my fun, bunny"

the tip of ellie's silicone cock was hitting your cervix with every thrust, and you could just barely take it. your pussy ached, but you couldn't get enough of her cock.

"e-ellie." you stammered out, your pussy tightening around her cock. ellie groaned as if she could feel it, her hands grabbing your hips to ram into you a little easier, "so fuckin' tight around my dick, babe. can feel her squeezing me, tryna keep me inside." she was rambling, burying her face into the crook of your neck.

"she wants me to stay inside, right? wanna stay full of me? til my bunny gets nice and round– oh fuck." the base of her strap bumped against her clit just right, and the idea of breeding you? shit, that just made her so much more desperate. you could feel it in the way her thrusts got a little sloppier, in the way ellie let out whimpers against your skin.

your hands found their way onto her shoulders, nails biting into her skin, little squeaks leaving your mouth like it was all you could bring yourself to do. but you wanted to make her cum, to be a good bunny for her.

"breed me, ellie– ah!" you were barely able to get the words out before her thrusts picked up, her energy somehow coming back full force, having just enough to make herself cum.

ellie's arms circled around your middle, holding you against her as her hips slapped against yours with an obnoxious clap, clap, clap!

she buries her strap to the base inside of you one last time, her whole body twitching and convulsing atop yours. pathetic whimpers tumble from her mouth and spill into the dip of your collarbone along with her drool. the feeling makes your hole clench around her, and you can't help but push her onto her back, sinking down onto her cock one last time.

and fuck, ellie thinks she'll die from how unexpected it was. "m'sorry, ellie, mff!" your nose wrinkles up so adorably, she can't find it in her to be mad at you. even when the base of her strap bumps against her clit with every slow grind of your hips, making her hands grip your hips so tight it'd definitely leave bruises.

she just bit back a whine, because how could she be mad at her pretty bunnygirl bouncing on her cock?

hi guys can we all say thank you half asleep and horny jamie 🤟🤟 (/j)

JUMPING FOR JOY WITH ACTUAL TEARS IN MY EYES I LOVE AUTISTIC REPRESENTATION IN X READERS ))): and with abby too????? a billion more please :,)

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links (if you have links to any other gfms/resources pls send them to me so i can update the list!)

hello hello i am here with some abby x autistic! reader content bc i know i cant be the only autistic person obsessed with her. yes this is completely self indulgent.

i kinda just threw words on the page, but i hope someone out there will enjoy :)

it takes ages for you and abby to actually get together because you were entirely oblivious to her advances. during breakfast you had spent a solid thirty minutes talking about the different wildflowers that grew in north america and their significance in literature. abby thought your passion for the subject was sweet so while on patrol she picked some flowers that kind of looked like the ones in the pictures you showed her. when she presented them to you, your squeals of joy made her entire face light up. 

“ah, thank you!”

you think nothing of it, assuming she was just being nice. you always assume she’s just being nice. so when you accidentally end up on a moonlit picnic date with her and she asks to kiss you, your eyebrows raise in confusion. 

abby looks mortified “oh god, did i make things weird? i’m sorry.”

“no, no!” you reassure her. “i just…didn’t know this was a date.”

she could throw up on the spot. had she misread the situation? sure she never said the word “date”, but she told you that she wanted to spend some time alone with you. she brought you flowers, wine (if you could even call it that) that owen had been fermenting, and you two had been cuddling under the stars for the better part of an hour. 

“you can kiss me.” your fingers fiddled with the stitching of the blanket beneath the two of you. “i would like that, actually.” 

when you start dating you apologize profusely about all of your sensory quirks. you didn’t want to cuddle after she washed her hair because you hated the feeling of her wet hair on your skin. she kept separate blankets for you because you didn’t like the texture of the fabric on hers. 

you nearly cried after the only time you snapped at her. someone was playing music in the mess hall, everyone was talking over each other, the smell and texture of the mushy broccoli was overwhelming, and abby was asking too many questions about your assignments for the day. 

“please just be quiet for a second!” your tone had been a little sharper than you intended. abby looked hurt until tears welled in your eyes and you apologized over and over. you talked it over after dinner and obviously abby wasn’t mad at you (not that she ever could be). 

after that, whenever she would play music she always made a point to ask 

“is that too loud?”

and you absolutely hated patrol. all the yelling, the occasional gunfire, that god awful clicking. it was an overstimulating nightmare. abby often picked up your shifts whenever she could to save you the misery of leaving base. on the off chance that she couldn’t, she would always make sure a few pairs of ear plugs were in your bag.

you fight the need to vocal stim around people who aren’t her. it was a weight off your shoulders when you finally felt brave enough to explain it to her. at first, she just ignored them, growing accustomed to the empty noise. one day, when you’re softly meowing on repeat, she decided to join in. the two of you would meow back and forth until you erupted into giggles.

abby never made you feel weird about anything. sure, she had questions, but never in an invasive way. she just wanted to cater to and accommodate you as best she could. all because she loves you. 

i may write more of this if people like it? i have a plethora of experiences to draw inspo from lmao

i’m so glad people seemed to really like my loser!ellie x popular!reader post!!! i may have to write a part 2 mwehehehehe >:3