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heartpascal · 1 year

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the crooked kind

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: you were sarah’s best friend, and you reunite with joel years after outbreak day.

▹ — a/n: erm. i love him. again not my best writing but i love this concept sm. also yes now i know there is an audience for father figure joel u will be getting so much of him

▹ — warnings: reader had major family troubles, pre-outbreak & post-outbreak, father figure joel, reader is injured, stab wound, referenced raiders/hunters, bill being hostile as usual, frank being a sweetie

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

25th September, 2003.

After a long shower at the Miller’s house, you got changed and went downstairs to face them, the same anxiety you always felt when this happened arose in your chest. They were in the kitchen waiting for you, matching frowns on both Sarah and her dad’s face. You smiled tightly at them, grabbing the box of food Sarah held out for you.

“Guys, it’s fine! I can’t stay here forever.” You told them lightly, trying to lift the heavy mood that always fell over the three of you when you had to go back to your own house.

“You could! Couldn’t she, dad?” Sarah asked, turning to her dad and knowing the answer before he even said it.

“‘Course you could, kid. You know you’re a part of the family.” Joel supplied, making it even harder to maintain the certain and confident front you always put on when it was time to leave.

You heard the tires of the truck pulling up outside their house, and the truck door slamming shut as Tommy stepped out, his frown matching Sarah and Joel’s, too. He grabbed the box of food from your hand and put it in the bag on your back, clapping a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezing as you smiled at him.

“Time to go,” you said, and rolled your eyes with a watery smile as you looked at the sulking expression Sarah wore, “C’mon, Sar. I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”

Nobody responded to your words, and their silence clearly conveyed their thoughts, but what about tonight? You were all aware of how much your family disliked when you stayed at the Miller’s but sometimes, you’d rather face their anger when you returned than any extra time at your own house. Aside from the people who lived there, you also never knew if there would be any water, which is why you always took a shower before leaving the Miller’s. You’d likely be back by this time next week, but it never made leaving easier.

You had once tried to stay at your best friend’s for longer, going on a few weeks, but when you had returned to your house to grab some more clothes, your parents had kicked off. Shouting, screaming, throwing things, the likes. They had yelled in your face that they would call the police on Joel, say he had kidnapped you, was keeping you away from home.

The last thing you wanted was the man who was essentially your own dad going to jail because of you.

It’s better this way, you had decided, because there was no other way. You were lucky your parents let you out of the house at all at this point. Every time you took a bundle of clothes stuffed into the bottom of your school bag you were chancing your luck, but you just couldn’t help it. Staying at Sarah’s gave you the experience of a loving family that you so badly wanted. A warm house, cooked food, and working water didn’t hurt, either.

“Let’s go, kid.” Tommy said, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want you to go back, either, but neither Miller men were willing to let you walk there. Tommy took you home every time, all of you knowing that Joel was much more likely to snap if your parents showed their faces.

“See you guys later! Happy birthday for tomorrow, Joel!” You waved at Sarah and Joel as you headed out of the front door, throwing a wave behind you and hearing them call out their own goodbyes.

You and Tommy sat in silence for the first few minutes of the drive, before he glanced in your direction, saying, “Listen, if you need anything, give us a call. I’m gonna be out tomorrow but Joel will be about. But hey, you need a bit of extra muscle? I’ll be there.”

You smiled at him, thankful to have such a supportive family who had your back at every turn.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Joel sighed as he gripped the steering wheel in his hand, waiting for his brother to finish up the paperwork he had to sign. When Tommy finally approached the truck, Joel turned to him with a dark look, annoyance clear in the curve of his eyebrows.

“Listen, Joel, I’m sorry!” Tommy told him immediately, reluctantly pulling his seatbelt over his chest and holding his hands up as if he was surrendering. “That fucker said her name and I just snapped, man.”

Tommy must have seen the way Joel’s face dropped, because he felt anxiety warm up in his chest as Joel said your name, his expression telling them both that something was very wrong. He remembered the crease to Sarah’s eyebrows when he had finally gotten home, the way she’d told him that you hadn’t been in school, and she felt like something was off.

“She wasn’t at school today.” said Joel, his eyes almost unfocused as all the possibilities for the why flashed in his mind, he completely missed the way Tommy’s jaw set.

The sound of guns going off in the police station sent both of their heads whirling around in alarm, with Tommy reaching back for the box that was kept under the driver’s seat. “What the…” he mumbled, eyes flashing with the fire that had started across the road. It was when they started hearing the helicopters and dozens of military and coppers swarming the street that the two Miller’s realised something was very wrong. “Shit, Sarah!”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

23rd May, 2013.

Your arm was throbbing with pain, and you were sure something was fractured at the least. Not to mention the warm red blood that was dripping down from your shoulder, basically the only thing providing you with any heat in the all-encompassing cold. Or maybe all the blood leaving you was what was making you feel so cold. You weren’t sure.

It was the first time in a while that you had left your QZ, and you were ambitious, aiming to travel all the way to the Boston QZ with as little trouble as you could manage. Of course, you hadn’t counted on the people, the raiders and hunters who tried to kill you to steal all the supplies you didn’t have. You were lucky to make it out alive, really. You hadn’t felt very lucky for a long time.

It had been at least thirteen hours since you were attacked, and you knew you wouldn’t make it much further. Already, you were feeling lightheaded, woozy, like the ground was reaching up for you, but you powered on, seeing the glint of a metal fence up ahead.

The wiring at the top told you that it was electric, which you wouldn’t have been worried about if the buzzing didn’t echo in your ears, meaning it actually had electricity.

You pushed lightly against where there was a gate, a keypad there to unlock it. These days, you wouldn’t be able to bet on it being a simple 1, 2, 3, 4. Clearly, this was somebody’s home, and they didn’t take lightly to intruders. Your head dropped against the metal, the metal warm from the sun, and you were glad that only the barbed wire at the top was electric.

Your luck clearly hadn't lasted very long, as you heard the sounds of two guns clicking, the safety turning off.

“Who are you?” A man’s gruff voice asked, and you moved your head from the fence to look at the man stood at the front, “What do you want?” His striking blue eyes tore through you, looking for any sign of a threat, but you didn’t pose much of one in your current state.

“Jesus, Bill, let the girl in, she’s gonna die out there!” A friendlier voice called out, approaching the two men already stood in front of you.

“Or, she could kill us in here.” Bill said, eyes not moving from where you stood, narrowing as you put your hands up in a motion of surrendering.

Your eyes fluttered for a second, and you nodded at the man, understanding of his caution. “I—I’m just looking to get to the QZ. Boston.” You spoke, voice dry and cracking, having only been used when you had yelled out at the people who had attacked you, and that was hours ago. You were dehydrated, tired, and hurt. “Could you point me in the direction?”

“She’s not gonna make it that far.” A woman, who you hadn't noticed approaching, said, eyebrows raised as she looked from the other newcomer to Bill. A part of you knew she was right, knew that you probably wouldn’t make it another fifty steps of the way, but god, you’d come this far, and you really didn’t want to die.

“Bill.” The man prompted, eyebrows raised as he gestured toward the gate. “Just let her in, you can always… shoot her if she tries anything.”

“And I will.” Bill threatened, glaring at you even as you nodded in agreement.

“I’m not infected,” You supplied, because it was the best you could do, “Got a nasty stab wound, little while ago.”

Bill grumbled, sending the man who was trying to help you back into the town for something, and he continued his annoyed mumbling even as he opened the gate, tapping in a code and holding his gun up to your head as you took a step forward. You stilled, eyes following him as he approached, gun still raised, and held a tester to your neck, only huffing as it flashed green.

“Come on in, honey.” The kind man said, approaching your side and helping you stumble your way into their safe haven. You swayed, even with his help, and he frowned at you.

“You sure about this, Bill?” asked the other man, who hadnt spoken before now. You hadn’t really taken much notice of him, too focused on the people speaking to you in hopes that the world might show you a bit of kindness.

“Joel?” You croaked out, eyes going wide and your legs becoming numb as you stared at the man in shock. The guns immediately rose back up to your face, and they glared at you suspiciously, with the man who had been helping you stepping aside with one look from Bill, even if it was with some reluctance. “Joel— It’s you, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

They all stared at you, none of them daring to speak for a few moments. The woman stared at Joel, trying to communicate with him through eye contact alone.

“She—she fixed it. Didn’t she?” You said numbly, feeling like you were going to pass out, but unable to take your eyes off of the cracked watch that sat on his wrist. Sarah had told you her plan for his birthday, even if you’d never gotten to see it in action, but it was broken again.

Recognition seemed to seep into Joel’s eyes, and his gun lowered slightly. He said your name like a question, like your face was an answer he couldn’t work out.

In a single moment, his gun was dropped to his side, and he surged forward, pulling you into his arms. You held onto him just as tightly, or as tightly as you could manage with your fucked up arm, and blinked away tears as you squeezed your hands together behind his back.

His hand held the back of your head, keeping you close to him as he let out a breath. “Fuck.” He said, the words watery with tears you were sure he refused to let out. “I was sure you were dead. The houses on your street were on fire, I—…” He trailed off, pulling away to hold your face in his rough hands.

You forgot all your pain for a moment, eyes full of tears from something else, something like relief, “I got away, my—my dad was arrested and my mom went to get him. When I got to yours, you were all gone.”

He swallowed guiltily, eyes looking over your grown face. You looked so different, so… you looked like an adult.

You looked around at the town, wondering which one belonged to the Miller’s, “Where— where’s Sarah?”

Joel flinched, hands squeezing your cheeks once more, before he shook his head, looking away before he pulled you back to him once again.

“Oh.” You gulped, swallowing down the grief you had already felt for the Miller’s that rose back up, trying to sweep you away.

“Can somebody explain what the fuck is going on?” The woman asked, the first of Joel’s group to speak up since your unexpected reunion. She looked between you and Joel and the two men, as if one of you could answer all of her questions.

You looked up at Joel, and he felt like he was going to be sick, the memories of you doing that before the world had gone to shit hitting him like a brick to the face. He remembered the way you would smile at him, a grin that matched Sarah’s, like the two of you were born as sisters, and not just chosen sisters.

“I…” You began, stepping out of Joel’s arms to face the group and explain, but that wave of nausea hit you, the adrenaline from finding Joel seeping from your body, leaving you feeling like you were about to step into death’s doorway. “Okay, um, let me—”

Joel stepped forward, and you fell into him, with him picking you up like he used to do with you and Sarah before. It hit him then, with how you were heavier, and how he hadn’t done this for anyone in years, but he still managed.

“I—I’ll explain, after.” He said, the words echoing in your ears as your eyes fluttered, the last of your long-winded fight or flight leaving you as you rested in your dad’s arms, feeling like perhaps you’d wake up in the bed beside Sarah’s, and everything that had happened in the past decade would have been nothing but a dream. “Frank?” He prompted, letting the man lead him to wherever he thought would be best suitable to patch you up.

That sickening feeling crept up on Joel again, the situation being horribly reminiscent of outbreak day, almost like your weight was Sarah’s own, and his shaking fingers being from fear and not shock. He hated it, that the feeling of regaining a daughter was so similar to the loss of his other.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he followed Frank, and glanced to his side to see Tess, and allowed himself to feel the slightest comfort at the nod she gave him.

Your eyes blinked open, and you looked at him through bleary eyes, “I’ve missed you, dad.” You told him, not missing the heartache in his eyes as he looked at you, but he smiled. It was thin, watery, and barely there, but you saw it.

“Kid, you got no idea.” He sighed out, focusing on getting you fixed up before he could start crying.

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piratefishmama · 11 months

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Nest

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

Contrary to popular belief, Alpha heartthrob of Hawkins High Steve Harrington never managed to find himself a suitable mate. He tried, he tried multiple times with many different omegas, tried with Betas, hell he even tried with another Alpha! However, he never lived up to their expectations, he was never what they expected or hoped for, those he tried to court always eventually told him he was too soft.

He lacked the aggression, the ‘slam you against a wall and take you’ kind of rough edges a typical Alpha would have that made the act thrilling for his partner, that created that kind of primal need to submit that they desperately longed for.

He lacked the primordial Alpha need to take, to claim. Some even claimed he ought to have been born an Omega, that the Alpha didn’t suit him, that somehow he’d been born wrong, that his secondary gender didn’t fit him, it wasn’t right.

He was too soft, too affectionate, too clingy too— too much.

Everything about him was bullshit.

Nancy, his one attempt at a relationship with another Alpha, had been drunk when she’d said that to his face, and she didn’t actually remember saying it the day after, but… it still stuck with him years after it’d happened. Years after they’d become friends, years after she’d settled into a Poly relationship with a sweet, if a little awkward omega, Jonathan and his ridiculous (read: weirdly charming, Steve loved him) Beta mate, Argyle.

So he didn’t have a mate. No big deal, it wasn’t like he longed for one or anything, it definitely not like that at all. It wasn’t like he wanted a big family, to be loved, to be wanted, to be welcomed into a nest made of a mixture of his and his mates clothes, his and his mates blankets and pillows and—it was fine. He was fine.

He wasn’t fine, but within that failure, came opportunity. Alphas came in all shapes, sizes, and thankfully, as much as people liked to doubt, temperaments, which given how soft he as an alpha was, made him perfect for Nest. A clinic for unmated Omegas who struggled with their heats, Omegas who had nowhere to turn, no-one to help them through the worst week of the month.

An alpha helped. Even if he didn’t touch them, and usually he didn’t, having an alpha there, their pheromones permeating the room, just existing in their space, sometimes it was enough to help ease the pain of having no-one to fulfil the other needs.

He wasn’t allowed to touch them intimately, it wasn’t a sex thing, it was a comfort thing. A thing some Omegas needed, especially if they’d never had an alpha with them before.

Sometimes, never having one was worse than having one once and never again. You craved something with no frame of reference for why or how to recreate it, you’d go mad going in circles trying to figure out why this part of you needed something so badly despite never having had it.

It could get bad. Some went mad over it. Hence the Clinics.

Hawkins had one. Singular. Just one. It was linked up to the hospital, deeply underfunded and regularly had protesters outside claiming the alphas inside to be sex workers.

Blatant ignorance at work there, but Steve stopped caring about his public image before he’d even left school so on each shift he’d walk through the throng of idiots, with his head held high, greet his best friend Robin at the front desk, a quirky Beta with zero brain to mouth filter and the gift of gab.

She probably wouldn’t call it a gift, but Steve adored her. Had a bit of a crush on her at first, quickly replaced by platonic love after she’d drunkenly came out to him in a public restroom at a Christmas party.

She liked women. Omega women to be specific. He’d never asked her to elaborate on why not male Omegas, she had a type, that was that.

Steve liked both, he liked all. Steve wasn’t fussed, Omega, Beta, Alpha, male or female? It didn’t matter to him, he’d tried all in his search for a mate that’d stay and found himself enjoying all.

He just needed one to stay.

He’d walk in, greet Robin, if he didn’t have an Omega already, he’d grab a clipboard with his new assignment on it and head straight there. It was one of those days.

His last Omega, an awkward little thing that Steve sort of recognised from high school, he’d been a freshman during Steve’s last year, had left the night before, content and at ease, had spent most of the coherent hours talking Steve’s ear off about a table top RPG game he played with friends, Dungeons and Dragons.

Steve didn’t mind, he asked questions, let him bounce character ideas off of him, helped him pick a race out of a mix of words Steve didn’t really recognise but it made the Omega, Gareth, happy.

They came up with Galgrun the Giant together. A Dwarf with a height complex and a really big hammer.

He liked Gareth. Gareth was sweet, soft, bit too young though. Reminded Steve of the gaggle of kids Nancy’s little brother would hang around.

His new assignment was older.

Older than himself by one year, which… wasn’t unusual but it definitely wasn’t a normal occurrence either. Usually the Omegas that used the facility were younger, younger and in desperate need of comfort.

“They’ve put him in room 69, he found that hilarious.” Robin chirped when Steve looked up from his clipboard. Another him. Not that that was a bad thing, sometimes they alternated. “He’s a little… jumpy, very nervous, I could smell him a mile away and you know what my sense of smell is like.” Most first timers were, he checked out the clipboard again, no previous alpha, no sexual history, no… nothing.

For an omega older than himself to have zero experience in intimacy with an alpha, even the soft non-sexual kind? No wonder he was jumpy. “Alright, says here he came from a referral?”

“Yeah, GP basically threw him at us after he turned violent during his last heat an damn near mauled his uncle, he mentioned Gareth when he came in, that’s why they gave him to you.” Not just because he was one of the best Alphas there, but because Gareth had said nice things, the omega had asked for him. “Go get him tiger.”

Part 2

#PirateWrites #Steddie #CW: A/B/O #No Upside Down AU #Omegaverse #Omega!Eddie Munson #Alpha!Steve Harrington #NestFiclet

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me-and-your-husband · 11 months

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if you lie down with me || e.w.

summary: there's one thing you and ellie don't have in common: immunity.

warnings: not beta read, swearing, blood, canon typical violence, death by suicide, ellie has concerning ideations, smut, oral, scissoring, multiple orgasms, angst!, crying during sex, arguing, probably more

word count: 6k

a/n: i know, i'm sorry for using this photo 😭 actually i'm sorry i wrote this entire thing

The end never feels like the end, does it? When you wake in the morning, the air is as fresh as the day before and the sun streams through the window at the same angle. You smile fondly at the incessant banging on your door, and at her urging tone when she tells you to get out of bed. “We have patrol,” she says, like she's said a thousand times before. What makes today any different?

The gravel road feels the same as it crunches under your boots as she leads you to the gate. Her auburn hair shines the same in the light, the same way you've admired since you were fourteen and she had just settled in Jackson.

You were helping out in the library, arms full of books stacked above your head. You struggled trying to keep them up with one hand and shelve them with the other. She noticed you from the corner, where she sat with a pile of beaten comics and a Walkman. “Need some help?” she asked, standing up from her spot on the ground. She took half the books from your pile and put them wherever you told her. After, when you asked her about the comics she was reading, her face lit up and she knew that you'd be a part of her life until death. Finally, someone was interested in knowing her.

The friendly faces of the watchmen at the gate were the same as they were yesterday, a week ago, a month ago, a year. They waved at you and wished you good luck as you mounted your horse and rode alongside Ellie onto the trail. The way she shoved her pistol in her back pocket and slung her bow over her shoulders was always the same. The way your horse galloped evenly alongside Shimmer did not deviate from the norm.

When she spoke up, her words were usual.

“Look, babe. A hummingbird,” she said with glee, pointing to the frosty trees.

You smiled at her excitement. “Poor thing, it's so cold out.”

“Don't you remember?”

“Of course I remember, El,” you laughed. “How could I forget?”

How could you forget? It was a humid summer afternoon, shortly after Ellie had turned sixteen. You had snuck out of Jackson to explore a creek you had found the day prior on group patrol. You so badly wanted to show Ellie, to share every part of you with her. You didn't know what to call it, but you assumed it was just because you were really good friends.

The soft rush of the water and the gentle breeze across your skin contrasted to the beating sun plastering your hair to your skin. You and Ellie sat with your backs against a wide oak, watching minnows skip through the water.

“Do you think animals have feelings? Like us?” Ellie thought out loud.

You hummed, “I do, but not as complicated as ours.”

She nodded in agreement before her eyes drifted to the source of a new sound, a gentle humming. She saw the gentle bird sucking nectar from a flower, tapping your shoulder gently and pointing.

“Look, a hummingbird,” she whispered.

“Woah!” You beamed, “I’ve only seen them in those nature books in the library. That's so cool. Did you know the sound actually comes from its wings?”

As you watched the hummingbird, she watched you. “It’s really pretty.”

You agreed. She said your name, but looked away from you.

“Yeah?”

“I think I like girls.”

You let the words settle in the air.

“I think I do too.”

It was the first indication that something else could happen between you and her, something less platonic than you would've thought. After that, neither of you said anything about it, confident in the fact that something more could exist in the spaces between.

It was the same confidence you had today as you followed her through the Wyoming woods, putting your trust in her. You took the same path almost every time you went out on patrol, knowing your way around, knowing the landmarks of the area. You knew you were getting close to the danger zone when you saw your favourite tree, the one you and Ellie would lean against by the creek, telling each other secrets into the night, crossing your heart to never tell another soul. Each of you knew that the other’s soul was the only one that mattered, anyways.

It was just over a year ago that you’d both carved your initials into that tree, reminders of that early morning on patrol bringing a smile to your face.

You had stopped for a moment to take a short break against the tree, letting your horses get some rest. Ellie leaned up against the tree as you pet Shimmer. The sun shone despite the snow and the brisk weather, illuminating your features gently. She admired the curve of your lips and the shape of your eyes, imagining her fingers tracing your skin under lamplight late at night. You looked up at her when your name tumbled from her lips.

“Yeah?” You said, continuing to pet Shimmer.

“I like you.”

The air stilled and your hand faltered, breath hitching. But what if she didn’t mean it like that?

You forced a laugh. “Well, I’d hope so. We’ve been friends for how long?”

“No, I…” she struggled for the right words. “I want to be more than friends. I like you. Like…romantically. And stuff.”

She played with her fingers, shuffling her feet back and forth in the snow, not meeting your gaze.

“Ellie, look at me. Please,” you whispered. She raised her eyes to yours, but still kept her head low, not bringing it up until your hand cupped her jaw. She moved her hand on top of yours, trapping it there, wondering if it was just a dream.

She closed her eyes tight when she saw you leaning in, praying that you weren't messing with her. When she finally felt your lips ghosting across hers, she leaned into you. Your touch was fire on her skin, leaving a red blush in its wake. She pressed your mouth to hers hungrily, never wanting this to end.

“I like you too,” you mumbled against her lips.

When you finally broke for air, chests heaving, you were both beaming. Ellie nervously reached into her pocket for her pocket knife, flicking it open. She held the blade against the bark of the tree, grabbing our hand and putting it on the hilt, sliding hers over top of it.

She guided your hand as you carved your initials into the tree, trapping them inside of a heart. It was cliche, but it meant everything to you.

It was the same tree that, a year later, you and Ellie passed on almost every patrol. The same tree that symbolized your everlasting love for each other. The same tree that stood since the dawn of your and Ellie’s time.

You rode casually in comfortable silence until you got to the watchtower, negative memories plaguing both you and Ellie. The floorboards still held the echoes of your voices yelling, still soaked in your tears.

Four months ago, when the rabbits were still brown and the path was clear of snow, you'd come through this watchtower to find two clickers. It caught you both off guard, as Jesse and Dina had just cleared it as safe the day before.

Ellie, always being the hero, snuck up behind one, taking it out easily, and lunged at the other. The second one, however, pinned her to the ground, and she held it by the neck, its arms clawing hers.

The sound of your pistol rang out as the body slumped on top of Ellie. She rolled it off and got up from the ground, chest heaving.

“Well,” she said, brushing dirt from her jeans, “that was pretty close. Thanks.”

When you didn't respond, she turned to see you standing with your pistol still in both hands, brows furrowed as you watched the dead body of the clicker intently. She called your name.

“What is it?”

You shook your head.

“Come on, tell me-”

“Every fucking time, Ellie,” you said, shoving your pistol back in your pocket and turning away from her. “Why do you have to run head-first into danger like that every time?”

She didn't say anything, gaze on your back as she watched you turn back around.

“What would I have done if you had gotten bit?” You said, voice a little watery. “Say something.”

She stumbled over her words, not knowing what to say. “I don't try to, you know, it’s just…” she sighed.

“You know, Ellie, sometimes I think that I value your life more than you do.”

The words hung in the air between you two, both of you knowing that you were right. Knowing that she could've been more, done so much more, saved so many people. But she was stripped of that. So what kind of meaning could she give to her life? What did she really have to live for? Before Joel, she never really had someone she knew would care if she died. Now she had you, and she didn't know how her recklessness would affect you. Now she did.

“Okay, you're right. I’m too reckless. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll start thinking before I react,” she said, voice softening.

You huffed, “I just worry about you, El. I don't know what I’d do without you.”

She hugged you tight, letting you nuzzle into her chest. She knew how you felt. Before you, she was hopeless. She didn't see a point in doing anything if her life couldn't be used by someone. What was it all for? Everything she'd struggled through? All she'd suffered?

Now she knew that she was forced to experience it all so that she could end up with you. And she’d do it a million times over.

She breathed your name. “I need to tell you something.”

You pulled away from her, “Well that's one way to start a conversation.”

She laughed nervously. “No, it's nothing bad. It's just…it might be hard to swallow.”

She gestured at an old, ratty chair. You sat and watched her intently.

She took a deep breath, drawing it into her lungs and releasing it. “Do you remember why I got my tattoo?”

“Yeah, to cover up that chemical burn.”

“I lied,” she said. “That's not why I got the tattoo.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, silently begging her to go on.

“When I was fourteen, I was bitten. On my arm.”

You sat back in your chair.

“I waited and waited for my mind to go, for my body to go, for anything to happen, but it never did. So…I’m immune, or whatever,” she said, searching for a reaction.

Seconds of silence passed. It was shattered with a laugh.

“That's a good one, Ellie. Real funny.”

“It’s true! Ask Joel. Tommy. Maria. They're the only ones who know…”

“And you expect me to believe this?”

“Just trust me. Please. It's all I ask, is for you to trust my word. Why would I lie to you about this?” She pleaded.

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“Because Joel thinks it's dangerous for people to know. That's how we met, you know. He was hired to get me to the fireflies…they were going to make a cure,” she said, voice trailing off towards the end.

“It didn't work, I take it?”

She shook her head. “Joel says they didn't need me.” Joel says.

“Okay,” you said, making her look up at you. “I believe you. But that doesn't mean I’m fine with you running head-first into infected like that again. Just because you're…immune, doesn't mean you can't be torn apart. Got it?”

“Got it,” she said, crouching in front of you and putting her hands on your thighs. “God, I love you.”

You cleared out the watchtower and made your way back to the path. This part was one of your favourites, winding through the mountains. Your horses trotted casually beside each other.

“Okay, okay, here's one: What do you say when a chef dies?”

“Oh god, I don't know?”

“He pasta-way!” She said, giggling before she could even say the answer.

Her laughter was contagious, sending it bubbling through your chest. “That's so bad that it's good.”

“Come on, just admit that I’m a top-notch comedian. If the world wouldn't have ended, I’d’ve been up there with Dave Chapelle.”

“Who’s Dave Chapelle?”

“I don't actually know. Some old ass comedian Joel told me about.”

You both laughed, smiles painted across your faces. However, the giggles subsided as you felt your horse start to shake slightly.

“Woah, Shimmer, you okay girl?” Ellie said, patting her side.

“Beau’s shaking too.”

“Maybe they’ve got…I don't know, a cold or something? Can horses even get colds?” You shrugged. “Maybe we should let them rest for a bit.”

You agreed, dismounting your horse and planting your feet on the ground. The shaking underneath you didn’t stop. You looked at Ellie, who looked at the mountain behind you. She yelled your name as you looked behind you.

A loud, grating noise sounded as you watched the earth of the mountain loosen from its side, rocks and boulders tumbling from it, falling in your direction.

You hurriedly mounted your horses again, kicking their ribs to get them to go. You rode as fast as you could, attempting to beat the oncoming landslide. You'd never seen one before, only heard stories and read of them in books. You were about three quarters of the way through the mountain range when the land detached from the mountain and began to slide.

“Go, go, go!” You yelled, Ellie a few feet ahead of you as her horse was younger than Beau. She glanced behind her every few seconds to make sure you were still there.

The rocks falling created a settlement of dust around you, making it increasingly harder to breathe. You finally saw the green clearing outside of the mountain range. Almost there.

The grating noise died, and you peered behind you to see the path completely covered in rubble. A few boulders still tumbled from the mountain, or whatever was left of it.

“Watch out!” Ellie yelled. You looked to your right, seeing a massive boulder rolling down the mountain, coming right for you.

You acted before you could think, much like Ellie, and propelled yourself forward off your horse as the boulder hit Beau and rolled atop of his body. You landed on the ground near Ellie, propping yourself up on your elbows to gawk at the sight.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, running to Beau. His body was mangled, bones sticking out of the skin and blood painting the grass. You felt like vomiting.

Ellie dismounted her horse, still shaking from the adrenaline, and put her hands on your shoulders, attempting to get you standing.

“Wait,” you said, leaning back down, planting a teary kiss on Beau's muzzle.

You stood, holding her tight. “Let's never come through here again.”

“Don't think we can, sweetheart,” she said, looking back at the obstruction. “Come on, we've gotta find a new way back home.”

She was about to help you mount Shimmer when you both froze in your tracks. A low, husky groan rung out through the air, scaring Shimmer. She ran into the clearing out of fright.

“Shit,” Ellie breathed.

“We’ll find her later. Come on, we have to go. It's either a bloater or a shambler, and I don't really want to stick around to find out.”

You turned to leave when the ground shook again. You turned around, looking back at the mountain. It wasn't the mountain shaking this time. Spewing through the hole the landslide left like spiders were hundreds—if not thousands—of infected. Clickers, runners, stalkers, bloaters, shamblers. Everything.

There was no way you were making it out of this unless you legged it now.

In unison, you and Ellie started sprinting to your last checkpoint— the old cabin. You ran faster than you ever had before, the sounds of hungry infected hot on your heels. You couldn't feel your legs, the burning in your flesh too intense. When the cabin finally came into view, you couldn't even allow yourself a breath of relief. You and Ellie had your guns out, shooting behind you as you ran, picking off as many infected as you could. When you were close enough to the cabin, the idea hit you. You knew that the creaky boards of the cabin wouldn't hold that many infected off. You knew what you had to do.

“Ellie, cover me!” You yelled as you slung your backpack off your shoulder and grabbed what you'd need. You grabbed an old bottle of whiskey you and Ellie had found at the watchtower and a rag. Stuffing the rag in the bottle, you lit it with your lighter.

In the ten seconds it took you to do this, the infected crept closer and closer to you. Ellie tried picking off as many as she could, keeping them away from you. Until her magazine ran out.

You threw the molotov in front of the hoard of infected. It exploded, creating a wall of fire between you and your death.

Until a single clicker went at you from the side. The light of the fire flickered in your irises and cast an orange glow across your face, and you didn't even hear it creeping up amidst the roar of the flames. You didn't even hear Ellie yell your name.

It tackled you to the ground before you could even turn your head all the way, talons scratching your arms and legs, sinking into your stomach. Its jaw was inches away from your neck, begging to gnaw on your jugular. In the struggle for your life, you couldn't even tell where you were and weren't hurt, what was bleeding and what wasn't.

Blood gushed into your hair and eyes as you watched Ellie slice its head clean off with her pocketknife. The same one you'd carved your initials into that old oak with.

Something inside of you rattled knowing that something could be used so innocently and yet so dangerously.

Ellie picked you up from the ground and helped you limp into the cabin, reeds of grass tickling your wounds. When you entered, you stood in the centre of the room as she barricaded the entrances.

“There,” she said, returning to you. You were both coming off adrenaline, suddenly feeling the ache in your bones to an indescribable extent.

You put your hands on your knees and leaned on them, heaving a little. “Ellie. We were so close.”

She just nodded in understanding. Her eyes survey you from top to bottom. You had a scratch across your cheek, a few minor lacerations across your arms and chest, and a few on your legs. She couldn't see any bites.

You brought your right arm up to run it shakily through your hair. That's when she saw it, brutal and bloody, painted into your skin like a brand. One that would decide your fate. Except that it had already been decided.

The sight of the bite on your forearm turned her stomach. She blinked over and over again, hoping that she was seeing wrong. Maybe she was still coming off of adrenaline. “Your arm…” she breathed.

“What?” You asked, confused. You looked over your left, then your right, and…oh. “Oh.”

The silence was deafening. It wasn't like you'd been badly injured, still with a sliver of possibility for recovery. No, this bite sealed your fate.

In the next day, you were going to become something Ellie had to detest. Something she had to kill.

You felt the bile rise in your throat just in time to grab a decayed flower pot. You choked out everything in your stomach and more.

Ellie grabbed her stomach as she felt her body start to shake, that feeling creeping up her spine again. Her breath felt like it was being siphoned out of her. She needed air, but her lungs would not take any in. She hyperventilated as she threw herself back against the wall, legs giving out.

A sweat broke out across her body, knowing that she's losing you tonight.

Her mind shoved memories into her vision that she swore to never bring up again.

“There're a million ways we should've died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight…for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it's two minutes…or two days. We don't give that up.”

She remembers the small, impossible slice of hope in Riley’s eyes, one that she knew was futile. Riley was her first love. She thought they were both going to die. She felt…horrible. You would be her last love, though she knew only you were fated to die. She knew she would die too.

Your voice calling her name broke her out of her fit. One look at you wiping your face and shaking was enough to make her want to break something, anything.

“Ellie,” you called. She stood and began pacing, running her hands over her face. “Ellie, stop it.”

“There's gotta be…there has to…we need…” she babbled, still pacing. An idea clicked, “give me your arm.”

You held out your shaking arm to your lover, expecting her to inspect the area. Instead, she took out her pocket knife and pressed the blade into her hand without any hesitation.

“Ellie! What the fuck?!” You said, trying to stop her hand from bleeding.

“Give me your arm,” she said firmly, a major contrast from before. When you hesitated, her hard gaze met yours. Her eyes softened when she saw the fear in your eyes. “Please,” she whispered.

You gave her your arm and let her rub her blood into the bite.

She took your arm and rubbed the blood into the bite knowing it wouldn’t work.

It wouldn't work on you.

She knew that.

She tried anyway.

As she massaged the blood as deep into the wound as she could get, all she could think about was that she would've been able to save you if they made the cure. Her life would've had meaning, so much meaning. She would've been able to cure you from this. But she was helpless, cursed to watch you suffer.

“Ellie,” you said, putting your hand atop hers to get her to stop and look at you. She could see in your eyes that you just needed to be close to her in that moment. She needed it too, needed to be impossibly closer as to grip into you forever.

She buried her head into your neck and you did the same, holding your breath. For if you breathed, time would pass. If time passed, you'd be gone.

You don't know how long you held each other like that, but it was long enough that your legs nearly collapsed with exhaustion. You were the first to speak.

“I need you to promise me something,” you whispered.

Ellie knew what you were going to say before the words left your mouth.

“No-” she began pulling away from you, but you squeezed her tighter.

“When it starts to happen…when I can feel it, I’m going to take my gun-”

“Stop it-”

“-and I’m going to go outside. You’ll know it's over-”

“-Stop-”

“-when you hear it. Just promise me you won't look.”

“Stop, please,” she begs, tears brimming in her eyes again. She takes a step back from you and turns around.

“Promise me.”

The words get caught in her throat. Her lip trembles. “Okay.”

Outside, rain starts to fall softly, tapping against the rotting wood of the cabin.

She breaks the new silence. “I should've been there. I should've taken my rifle out, anything-”

“El, it's not your fault. Look at me,” you say. She looks at you over her shoulder. You nearly crumble at her red eyes and wet cheeks. “Never blame yourself. You hear me?”

She just squeezes her eyes shut, willing for this to all go away.

You walk to her, putting your hands on her shoulders and leaning your forehead against her back. You tried not to look at the bite.

“Ellie.”

“Yeah.”

“Will you give me one last good night?”

The soft pattering of the rain against the wood, trickling off the roof and into the ground.

“Please?”

She says nothing, instead turning around and gently capturing your lips in a kiss. Your bloodied hands find her wet cheeks, noting that the tears haven't stopped.

Ellie wanted to give you everything you wanted and more, and she had sworn she would from the moment she met you. If this was the last thing you ever asked from her, she would give it to you.

But it was so unbelievably hard knowing that this time would be your last.

She pushed you back against the wall, nearly devouring you. The salty mix of your tears and hers slipped into the kiss, but you didn't care. She moved her hand down to cup you where you wanted her.

You bucked your hips into the friction, already needing her. You began to undo your belt, but Ellie’s hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” She said, voice gravelly.

“Yes, El,” you said. “I don't know where I’ll be tomorrow, or…what I’ll be,” she let out a shaky breath, “but I know I want to be with you right now.”

She sniffled and nodded, getting on her knees to take your belt off. She threw it to the side, unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down along with your panties. You opened your legs wider for her.

She ran two fingers through your slit before sinking one into your hole, tongue giving kitten licks to your folds.

You could tell that she wasn't going to be as vocal as usual.

You couldn't really blame her.

You whimpered as she added another finger, pumping them in and out of you, filling the air with obscene sounds. She lapped at your cunt, trying her hardest to give you what you want.

“Ellie, don't stop,” you moaned, whimpering when she used her other arm to hold your hips down against the wall. “Almost there.”

You could feel the coil tightening inside if you quickly, your climax coming in record time. You thought for a moment that it was because of how sensitive you were in this moment.

You moaned wantonly and grabbed her hair as you came, her tongue working on your clit and her fingers scissoring you open.

You expected her to stop, but she kept going. In fact, she added a third finger.

You heard her moan into your pussy, looking down to find her grinding into the floor, a wet spot forming on her jeans. She was so messy, your juices coating her face, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair, rutting into nothing and moaning into your cunt.

When the fabric of her jeans caught her clit just right, she took her mouth of your pussy, replacing it with her thumb instead, and leaned her forehead against your stomach. You came with her from the sensitivity, both of your moans filling the air, pleading for more.

When she laid you down on a thin blanket from her backpack and undressed both of you, you noted the scared look in her eyes. The way she looked at you, drinking you in, knowing this would be your last time together. Some part of you wished that neither of you knew about the bite, that you didn't have to treat this so differently. That you could enjoy it. Enjoy your last moments together.

She threw her leg over yours, kissing you messily, yet softly, as she ground into you, folds slotting against each other. You both moaned each time your clits touched.

As she grew closer to her climax, she buried her face into your neck. You tried to ignore the feeling of her tears trickling down and pooling at your nape.

You came together. You moaned, but she cried out, more guttural than you'd ever heard from her.

“I love you, I love you, I love you—!” she cried into your neck as she came.

When you slowed down, she held you like that without words.

“I love you too, Ellie,” you whispered, just loud enough for her to hear over the rain.

You held each other as the sun set, through the night, and through the rain.

The golden rays of the sun shone through the cracks in the walls and shudders, dancing across her bare body pressed into your side. Hours ago, her body had stopped shaking and her tears stopped spilling onto your chest, your hands running patterns across her skin lulling her into an exhausted sleep.

Your eyes had never closed, however. You knew you wanted to be awake to feel it happening, to know when you were losing control over your body. For Ellie’s sake.

The rain had stopped and the clouds were cleared. Birds sang outside and all the animals went about their day. You thought it strange that the world would continue on without you, that people will age and new ones will be born, that people will die and people will forget about you in time. Your impermanence had never struck you as hard as it did now.

You felt the twitching in your feet first, unnoticeable at first, but is it crawled up your limbs, you knew it was happening. It happened over three or four hours, and once you felt your neck jerk the first time, you knew.

Your blood didn't feel like your own anymore, like someone exsanguinated it and replaced it with jelly, slowing you down. Your vision wasn't gone, but you couldn't focus it on anything. It constantly sounded like you were underwater, drowning, gasping for air to no avail.

Your eyes hardly left the woman in your arms, clinging to you even in sleep. You know she'd curse herself for falling asleep, but you were thankful for it. You were thankful that you could press a tearful kiss to her forehead before gently escaping her grasp, muffling your sobs behind your hand. You threw your shirt and jeans on quietly, dizzy, slipping your shoes on. Your world spun, your lungs burned, your head throbbed.

You picked up your pistol, watching Ellie stir slightly in her sleep, creamy skin illuminated in the sun, her freckled face creased slightly with worry, even in sleep. You put the gun in your pocket.

You tried, as silently as you could, to move the barricade from the door. You were thankful that she was a heavy sleeper.

You were thankful that you didn't have to see the despair in her eyes when you said a forceful goodbye, thankful that you didn't have to convince her to let you go, thankful that your last memory of her was this, thankful that her last memory of you was bliss.

Through your sobs, you squeezed through the door and shut it behind you, leaning your head against it, willing for this all to be a nightmare. It wasn't, because you started to feel something else take over your will.

Before you could lose it completely, you forced yourself into a dense brush of greenery, somewhere you hoped she wouldn't look.

You panted, sweating, trembling, as you took the pistol out of your pocket. It shook with your hand as you held it to your temple, bright eyes taking in all of the world that you could before it was gone.

You squeezed them tightly, willing yourself to stop shaking. You conjured the image of your lover in your mind, her auburn hair, milky skin, pretty green eyes, and those familiar freckles. How could you ever forget her?

You took a breath in, and breathed out: “I love you.”

Ellie sat up in terror when she heard the sound of a single gunshot ring through the air, seeping in through the cracks of the window and underneath the door. It took her a moment to process what it was, reaching for her pistol next to her discarded clothes. When her fingertips brushed the gun, it settled in. She craned her head to look beside her, half expecting you to still be asleep.

When she remembered what the sound of the gunshot meant, what you had made her promise, her lungs collapsed and she couldn't take any air in. Tears spilled from her eyes as she heaved, clawing at her chest for any relief. It didn't come.

She knew it never would.

When Joel got word that you and Ellie still hadn't returned from patrol, he worried that you'd gotten stuck in the landslide. He pleaded with Tommy and Jesse to go out with him to search, knowing he wouldn't be at peace without knowing what happened.

When the two agreed, they set off on horses to clear all of the checkpoints. It took an extra day to get around the mountain range that was blocked off by rubble.

When they only had one more checkpoint to clear, Joel got increasingly worried. If you weren't here, where were you?

When the three men got to the cabin, they held their breath as they dismounted their horses. Joel tried pushing the door open, but the barricade stopped him. It took the three of them to open the door, pushing the barricade out of the way.

The open door shed light on the figure against the back wall covered in a thin blanket, trembling. Joel let out the breath he was holding in when he saw Ellie. She was clutching your backpack to her chest, trying to keep any remaining part of you alive, hers.

She had hardly noticed Joel pick her up and carry her to his horse, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready to see the world without you in it.

“Ellie,” Joel’s gruff voice intruded her thoughts, “where is she?”

Ellie’s words failed her. All she could do was point to her forearm, to the bite that only Joel and Tommy knew hid underneath the tattoo.

She doesn't remember what happened after that.

It was warmer now, the flowers blossoming and the green coming back to Jackson’s landscape. Ellie sat facing your headstone, wishing you could've seen it. Wishing she could've shown it to you.

“It’s summer now,” she began. “We started planting these new flowers in your garden…Joel thinks you would've liked them. I think so too. They're really colourful…you know.”

She hesitated.

“Sometimes I wonder if you can hear me. Or if I’m just talking to myself like a crazy person. Joel says it's good for me. I don't know if I believe him.”

She played with her hands, tracing her tattoo.

“I wish you were still here,” she whispered. Her eyes drifted over all the flowers left by your grave from all the people who loved you.

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched a pretty red hummingbird land on your grave, searching for pollen in the flowers.

ellie taglist:

@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz @pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb

permanent taglist:

@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x reader angst #tlou #the last of us #tlou 2 #the last of us 2 #lesbian

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poguemunson · 1 year

Text

The Morning After

Eddie Munson x Reader (1.3k)

note: i haven’t written anything for months so i am a little rusty so please take it easy on me. if you have any requests please send them my way!

buy me a kofi masterlist

Summary: You try to sneak out the morning after sleeping with your best friend, Eddie because you think he will regret it.

Warnings: suggestive themes (mentions of sex), slight angst, insecure!reader, mentions of alcohol, misunderstanding

******

This is not your room.

This is not your bed.

That is, however, your clothes littered on the floor.

That is your best friend, sleeping next to you, equally as naked as you are.

You are never drinking again.

Running a hand through your hair, you begin to curse yourself. You’re trying to remember the events that took place the last night, pieces of memories coming together hazily.

You had turned up to Eddie’s trailer, upset and in need of comfort and reassurance. You had yet another failed date and you were feeling like shit about yourself. When you thought about the last time you genuinely felt happy, of course, your best friend of seven years was the first person to come to mind.

What you didn’t plan on was the pair of you getting wasted and hooking up.

Sure, the reason the dates were failing was that you were head over heels for your best friend. But your drunk brain decided to go for the kiss and let fate take over the rest.

“Fuck, fuck,” You murmured to yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was wake Eddie up with your panic.

Did Eddie just feel sorry for you? Did he just feel obligated to go through with something with you because he believed you couldn’t handle another failed experience with a boy?

That had to be it.

During the seven years of friendship, Eddie had never shown any interest that wasn’t platonic. He was flirty but that was just Eddie, right?

You had to get out of there.

You quickly dressed as quietly as you could. The last thing you wanted was to face Eddie. You wouldn’t be able to handle seeing the look of regret etched onto his face.

Eddie would never actively go for someone like you. You’re his best friend. The one stable thing, apart from Uncle Wayne, that he had in his life and you had screwed that up for him.

You spared a glance at Eddie. He was still seemingly asleep. He looked peaceful, you could’ve sworn there was a slight smile on his lips. You tried your hardest to try to remember him this way.

Maybe Eddie wouldn’t want to see you anymore after this. Would he do that?

You couldn’t begin to think about it. You pushed yourself out of the room, sending a thank you to whoever upstairs made sure that this event happened the day Uncle Wayne wasn’t home from the night shift yet.

Stepping out of the trailer, you closed the door as quietly as you could. You cringed when it made a loud squeak.

“Please don’t wake up,” You whispered. You would cross your fingers if your hands weren’t shaking so badly.

You waited a minute to see if you could hear any movement in the trailer, trying to determine whether to make a run for it or not. Once you were sure the coast was clear, you turned to leave, freezing when you caught the eyes of one of Eddie’s neighbours.

Maxine. You recognised her as one of Dustin’s friends. You had seen her around him a few times in town.

You put your hand up in an awkward wave to which she raised an eyebrow at you in reply before she made her way into her trailer. You were just praying she didn’t decide to call up Dustin to let him know that she had witnessed his babysitter doing the walk of shame.

Guess today wasn’t your day.

You stopped in your tracks once you felt the cold water drop land on your arm.

Yeah. Today wasn’t looking up apparently.

Looks like you get to enjoy a nice walk home in the rain. Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“You’re still here.”

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. He had always been good at sneaking up on people. Of course, it helps when you’re zoned out, focusing on the horror of a day you’ve been having. It doesn’t look like it’s even 9 AM yet.

“Yeah,” You let out an awkward laugh, turning to face him but making a conscious effort not to make eye contact, “Was just about to head off.”

He was now dressed. His hair was a mess from his sleep and their night together. If you closed your eyes, you could probably still imagine how it felt to run your fingers through it.

“Run away, don’t you mean?” Eddie questioned. You hadn’t heard it before but there was no mistaking the hurt in his tone. You finally met his gaze.

“I’m not running away,” You replied.

Eddie scoffed, “Okay, so what is this then?”

He raised a hand to gesture to you standing outside his trailer. You could practically feel your throat go dry.

“I didn’t let anyone know I wasn’t coming home last night. I don’t want to worry anyone,” You told him. It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the whole truth. You just didn’t want to own up to the fact that you were ferried that if you stayed around Eddie any longer, you would start apologising.

“Just because I’m yet to graduate high school doesn’t mean that I’m that dumb,” Eddie shot back. You opened your mouth and then closed it before taking a deep breath.

“I know you’re not dumb.”

“So tell me the truth,” Eddie leaned his back against the entry of the trailer.

“I didn’t want to face you,” You admitted.

“And why’s that?” Eddie countered.

“I didn’t want to see you mad at me. I didn’t want to stand here and do exactly what we are doing right now because it’s mortifying. I get that it means I’m running away from my problems but from where I’m standing right now, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” You stated with a shake of your head.

“You’re that embarrassed?” Eddie quizzed. You let out a scoff.

“I’m sorry that last night happened. I get that you regret it, okay? We don’t need to have this conversation. You don’t feel that way about me. End of story,” You told him.

Eddie’s eyes widened a fraction before laughing loudly at you. You have never been a violent person but right now? You wanted to clock him.

“Can you stop laughing at me?”

“You beautiful idiot,” Eddie laughed, running a hand down his face. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you complimenting me or insulting me?” You asked. Eddie shook his head in disbelief before taking a step closer to you.

“Both,” He replied before cradling your face in his hand and pressing his lips to yours. Your brain was going haywire because what the fuck?

His lips were so soft. Somehow softer than they were last night and you couldn’t help but completely melt into him.

Before you remembered.

“Wait,” You pulled away from him, his lips already trying to chase yours, “I don’t understand.”

Eddie laughed, his hand going to your cheek again to ensure you looked him in the eyes.

“I thought you regretted last night,” Eddie said.

“Why the fuck would I- Oh.”

You were both idiots.

“So… you don’t regret it?” You questioned.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” Eddie informed, beginning to trail kisses down your neck, your eyes fluttering close at the feeling, “The only thing I regret is that I don’t remember everything.”

You pulled away with a smile, reaching for his hand and tugging him back towards the opened door of his trailer.

“I say we get a do-over.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a grin before wrapping his arms around your waist to hoist you over his shoulder to get you back into his room faster.

“What are we waiting for then?”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x y/n

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teyamsilly · 5 months

Note

hey bby I luv ur works!! can u pls do jealous/possessive teyam?? maybe the reader was spending too much time with another guy and didn’t notice how it was making him feel. fluff ofc!

jealous neteyam

pairing: neteyam sully x omatikaya! reader tags & warning: oblivious reader, neteyam's patience was tested, feelings of anger and jealousy summary: your kindess was the one thing that neteyam loved but disliked at the same time. sometimes, you never notice when a guy is making approaches at you. he has heard that you made a new friend, but he didn't know that friend felt awfully comfortable around you. word count 1.3k index sevin - pretty, olo'eyktan - clan reader

my first request <3 i was really eager to write this. i hope you like it !! i've always pictured neteyam as a soft lover

You were in the healer's tent. Another woman was about to give birth, and Mo'at needed all the assistance she could get without leaving the tent unattended just in case someone needed help. So, you volunteered to stay behind.

However, you weren't alone. Vayem saw you and noticed that you were alone, then decided to accompany you. The two of you grew closer over the past days ever since he got injured badly from their hunt.

Apparently, his party that was being led by Neteyam and they were in search for food to feed the whole clan. They were successful in retrieving food, but a palulukan spotted them and ferociously chased them. Vayem wasn't quick enough to avoid the animal completely, resulting him to recieve a gash on the back. Neteyam assissted him on walking towards the healer's tent, and there you were.

You and Vayem had never spoken to each other before simply because you never crossed paths. Maybe you did, but the two of you never took notice of each other. But after he got injured, Vayem visited more often with or without injuries. You appreciated the company, plus he wasn't boring to be around with.

Vayem always had something funny to say, a laugh escaping from your lips everytime. His hand would linger on your thigh longer than what friends would do, but you didn't think much of it like you would ever. He sent hints, even obvious ones to you, but you never noticed them.

Eventually, you thought of them as platonic actions. When he would put his arm around your shoulder and pull you closer so that you two could walk together, or when he would hold both of your hands when the two of you laughed hard at a story that he shared.

Everything seemed platonic to you.

Vayem snickered, "I swear, Lo'ak would make the Olo'eyktan's hair fall out soon."

"I know," you chuckled, nodding as you did so. "He's always been brave and adventurous."

He hummed, eyes trailing to your top. His eyebrows raised in curiousity. "Is that a new top?" asked Vayem.

"Yes! What do you think? I wanted to show Neteyam, but his father called him in."

Vayem met your eyes which were filled with anticipation, waiting for his judgement. He drifted his eyes down back to the top. You were always creative, there was no doubt about that.

"You look beautiful," says Vayem. And he wished that this time you would take the hint when he looks back at you, but your eyes weren't looking at him. They were looking at what's above him, and they were shining brightly. He instantly knew who you were looking at.

"She is beautiful, isn't she?"

Vayem peered behind him, and saw Neteyam staring down at him. The Olo'eyktan's eldest son's sharp eyes spoke volumes, he was warning him.

You gleamed, "Neteyam!" You stood up from the ground, and jumped into his arms.

He chuckled at your exuberance, wrapping his arms around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder, staring at Veyam, who had previously gotten up. When Neteyam's palm caressed your back until it rested just above your ass, Veyam tried to disguise his grimace.

Neteyam smirked.

You pulled away, your arms still around his neck. "I thought you were busy assisting your father?"

"I was, but he dismissed me early." He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft, until his tongue slipped inside your mouth making you gasp.

With flushed cheeks, you pushed away. "Teyam, we're not the only people here," you whispered.

He shrugged without a care. "So? Maybe he should leave then."

You slapped his shoulder as you scolded, "Neteyam! Don't be rude."

Vayem cleared his throat, capturing your attention. He grinned and patted your shoulder. "It's okay. I will take my leave. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Neteyam glared at the hand that stayed on your shoulder. The audacity this boy have… to touch his girl right in front of him with no shame.

"See you, Vayem." You smiled.

The two shared an intense glare as Vayem walked past him, and you were oblivious to the weird vibe they shared.

"What do you think of my top?" You detached yourself from him, gesturing on the material with a proud look on your face. "Your mother gave me the feathers because she thought it would look good on me, and Tuk helped me find the beads to match it."

The thought of his sister and mother bonding with you caused a small smile to appear on his lips. It's one of the things he admires about you: you've effortlessly built a close friendship with his family. But the fact that he wasn't the first to notice you in this new material made his jaw clench.

"You and Vayem have gotten close," he pointed out as he fiddled with the feather on you.

You pouted when you haven't got an answer. "Yes, he's really funny."

Neteyam looked at you, jealousy written all over his face. "Oh? Have you been spending time without him when I'm not around?"

It took you quite a while to discover that something was wrong with the boy in front of you. He overlooked your question to begin with. Normally, he would shower you with compliments and affection. You couldn't figure out why he seemed agitated.

"Yes." You nodded slowly, eyeing him carefully. "Sometimes, he assists me with finding the herbs that I need in the forest. Most of the time, he stays with me here when I'm alone."

Neteyam scoffed in disbelief. He shook his head, a sarcastic laugh escaping from his lips. You only looked at him with confusion. "Neteyam?"

"He has no shame. His advances are obvious."

"Advances?" you pinched your eyebrows together. "He does not like me. He's only a friend."

"You are naive, sevin, if you think he wants to be your friend."

"I am not!" You crossed your arms defensively, turning away from him. Vayem may have been acting sweet towards you, but he was just being a gentleman. Right?

Neteyam sighed and placed his hand on your shoulder, moving to stand beside you. "Look, I don't mind if you have guy friends. But, sevin, these guys don't just want to be your friend. Did you see the way Vayem told you how beautiful you were?"

You looked at him with a teasing smile. "I feel priviledged to know that the mighty warrior jealous of men interacting with me."

"I trust you, I don't trust them."

You wrapped your arms around his torso, basking in his scent. Neteyam instantly engulfed you in his arms, leaning the side of his head against yours.

"I think I've knew all this time that Vayem liked me. I just didn't want to assume he did because I would be embarrassed if I spoke to him, and he tells me that he only sees me as a friend," you admitted. Your skin tingled as his palm stroked against your back, your tail standing tall.

"Sevin, if only you knew how many warriors wanted you before I had you."

You looked up, grinning at him. "Yeah? I only have eyes for one, though. The mightiest one of them."

Neteyam chuckled, his cheeks turning into a light blush. He was sure that you could hear his heart beating fast, and it made your smile widened. Eywa, that smile. The people would think that you were lucky to be chosen by him, but he begs to differ.

Your heart was filled with kindness and love. How much you give isn't limited to the people closest to you, and Neteyam considers himself special to recieve the most of your affection.

"From now on, I'm asking Lo'ak or Kiri to stay by your side," he declared, but you knew he was joking.

"Oh, yes, because Lo'ak would make a great guard."

"Or Tuk. She bites, you know?"

"Neteyam!"

#avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar twow #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #jealousy

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rainswept · 8 months

Text

I'M HERE. lyney.

warnings // 1.3k words. major backstory spoilers. in depth/poetically described gore, dead/rotting animal mention, overall content may be disturbing to some readers - proceed with caution. injury, main character death, angst. childhood friends trope !! ambiguous relationship (could be viewed as platonic or romantic, but pining/unsaid feelings are implied).

"now i'm here," lyney chirped, jumping out from behind a wooden crate along the sides of the wet street, before bounding back again and leaving only his voice as an indication he was there at all, "now i'm not!"

lynette looked on, unimpressed, while you clapped. of course, it was only a silly game; but you were more than willing to indulge him.

the air smelled of rain and sodden wood, and you could feel the cool moisture upon your skin. puddles and wooden planks knocked off of crates littered the streets, the post-rain painting the sky a gloomy gray. tall buildings formed of metal sheets outstretched, cradling the city paths the three of you walked. desolate as it was, it felt like home.

the steps of six boots into fresh puddles echoed alongside an otherwise quiet world. the rain had just settled, so off you went, in search of the next crowd of people for lyney and lynette to perform for. there was never any particular place the three of you stuck to; there couldn't be. so, with time, you began to see them as your home instead.

the worry of what was next to settle in your truthless maw dispersed when you were with them. in their company, neither worry nor hunger gnawed at your stomach. the taste of food was simply not as comforting when eating alone. no .. you could be in a sea of people. so, not just being alone; without them.

☽ . * ☾

"i'm here!" lyney called, turning the corner into the small alley in which you three often resided.

you and lynette glanced up, immediately filled with vigor at the sound of his voice. while lynette stayed seated, huddled in a cardboard box beside you, you wriggled your way out of her grasp and jumped up to meet lyney half-way. as he dipped his head and took off his hat with a quick bow, spare coins came tumbling into your outstretched hands. you thanked him, turning to lynette, and he waited until you two counted what you needed before he took his own spoils.

it wasn't long until you were on the move again. the three of you huddled close as you slipped through the crowd of the night market, hands held tight in a chain as to not lose each other. you stepped up to a merchant together, dirty coins scrounged together just enough to be worth something in your outstretched palms.

you ate comfortably that night, huddled next to lyney and lynette in a small alley you had decided to make home temporarily. lynette was on the left, her tail wrapped around you and lyney; he was on the right, one arm tucked between you as he ate his meal with the other. you were right in the middle, head resting on lyney's shoulder. you could hear his heartbeat, dull and faint from how far away, but there nonetheless.

you drifted off to sleep comfortably, warm between their bodies as you sheltered each other from the cold night air.

☽ . * ☾

"i'm here," you whispered, holding lyney tight. your arms wrapped around his shaking frame as he cried, burying his face in the crook of your neck as to not allow you to bear witness to his tears. "it's okay. let it out."

"i'm here," lyney said softly, tracing circles over your knuckles with his thumb as you stared, mortified, the first time you saw a rotting animal — mauled so badly the species was unrecognizable — slumped up against the wall of a building. flies buzzed in your ears, and lyney murmured soft reassurances to muffle the sounds even as the sight filled his own body with dread. "it's okay. walk with me, now. keep your eyes closed. i'll guide you."

"i'm here," you said, words only meant for lyney's ears, stepping in front of him protectively as you steeled yourself for a brawl over food scarcity. you were always the better fighter. "i won't let them hurt you."

"i'm here," lyney called, entering the small space you were currently residing in, throwing you the bigger piece of bread between the two pieces he had retrieved. "this one's for you."

"i'm here," you said, the first time he performed alone, because lynette was sick. "you did great."

"i'm here," lyney said, barely above a whisper as to not wake you, hand resting on the back of your head as you curl into him for warmth in your sleep. "i hope you're comfortable."

"i'm here," you yelled, gasping for breath, as you rushed to lyney's aid — all because he tripped and scraped a knee. "are you okay?"

"i'm here." "i'm here." "i'm here." "i'm here."

you were always there, and he was too.

you hadn't eaten, yet you still felt like you'd throw up pure acid; as if the impact of your heart plummeting into your stomach would actually cause some to splash up.

the sight was as awful as that day. you wanted to see blood flow beneath his skin, in his veins, and watch it turn his face hot when you looked at him. you didn't want to see it outside of him. it was spilling out his body much too quickly, unlike the words you wished you could've said sooner.

deep crimson laid out for the world to see, blood pouring out like heartfelt words; up-tilted smiles, and choked out apologies. the dirty street beneath lyney's limp body was beginning to turn the same color as his open wounds, blood following the imperfect curves of the rubble-littered concrete. the blood glinted in the light like a precious ruby, marred skin splayed open to reveal flesh pure and untainted.

the stream, yet to coagulate, picked up pieces of dirt and tiny dislodged rocks as it followed its path. it reminded you of how lyney found you. you were the debris, and he the blood, outstretched grasp picking you up and carrying you to all the places you wished to go — with him all the while. without him, you would be immoble .. useless.

.. but the blood did not have a care in the world; it did not have any thought as it meandered its way across the ground. it only sought the path already cut for it, where ever that may lead.

.. it .. did not have a mind of its own. blood .. it is born to sustain one person, to keep them alive. it only served one purpose; carry life to and from their heart. now, without a body to keep alive .. it had no use in the world.

.. that was quite the fitting metaphor for you, now.

you cradle him gently, letting him lean on you as he breathes. it's weak, it's fragile, and it's strained. your arms wrap around his body and his hands grasp feebly at your clothes, trying to hold you close the best he can.

stay with me, you want to say. stay with me.

but you know better than to have hope now. you've seen enough death that you can predict when it's coming.

.. is he even still conscious?

yet, regardless of your rationale, he seems to read your mind.

"i'm here," lyney murmurs, voice soft and eyes fluttering between open and shut. the last of the day's sun glints in his glassy irises, pupils shrinking and dilating as he tries his best to focus on you despite his blurred vision. he smiles softly, looking up at you with only his eyes. it would hurt too much to move anything else.

.. but, soon the pain ceases. in his final moments, he manages to glance at you once more, without the binds of wound left to mar his final memory.

you brush the stray hairs away from his face. "i know. i know."

slowly, the sun goes down. his eyes have long since stopped moving, and his final breath had drifted past your face and into the winds hours ago. yet, you're still here, his now-cold blood painting the entire front of you a glassy red, holding onto him as if trying to keep his lifeless body warm still.

now he's here. now he's not.

#✰ RAINSWEPT #✰ RAINSWEPT LYNEY #lyney #lyney x reader #lyney genshin #lyney genshin impact #lyney x you #genshin impact lyney #lyney gi #genshin lyney #gi lyney #lyney x y/n #lyney x gender neutral reader

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lancermylove · 28 days

Text

Plant Allergy (HC)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: All x Reader, platonic.

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Hello! I just read the headcanons that you are going to make and I noticed one that says "allergic to plants" and I would like you to make a headcanon for TWST of how the boys would react to finding out that their female friend Yuu is allergic to plants and what what they would do if someone exposed them to this (for example if they gave them flowers or even included a plant that especially affects them in their food, you know, sometimes it is done to give it flavor).

——————————————

Leona

Who needs plants when meat exists? Guess he can't call you an herbivore now.

Initially, Leona doesn't take the allergy too seriously as he thinks you are either joking or too sensitive. But when he sees you have an allergic region, he freaks out.

He always makes sure you don't get any gifts, food, or items with plants in them. The prince also uses his power and influence to ensure that no one else makes the mistake of exposing you to plants.

Leona even goes as far as not sleeping in the greenhouse, just in case the allergens transfer from his clothes to your body.

Ruggie

Awww, so you won't be able to try his dandelion tea? Ruggie is sad. Not really, but he tries not to laugh when you tell him you have a plant allergy.

He is not laughing at the fact you have an allergy but at the fact that you are allergic to plants. Ruggie didn't even know that was possible. How do you survive on NRC's campus with all the plants and trees around?

Just like Leona, he makes sure no one tries to play pranks on you, especially from Savanaclaw, using plants.

Jack

Does that mean you are allergic to his cacti? By what did they ever do to you? They are innocent!

He doesn't take your allergy seriously either since Jack had never heard of a plant allergy. But when he sees how badly plants affect you, he makes sure to double-check everything he sends to you.

If anyone dares to carelessly expose you to plants, Jack uses his strength or intimidating stature to scare the person into never repeating that mistake again.

Malleus

He doesn't question or doubt you in the slightest. As soon as you tell him, Malleus takes it very seriously. The last thing he wants is for you to have an allergy attack.

Sometimes, if he thinks you might need extra protection, the prince uses his magic to create a 'bubble' for you. That way, you can move around freely without worrying about allergens.

Malleus orders the students in Diasomnia to get rid of everything plant-related so you are safe in the dorm. The prince goes as far as to warn all his dorm members not to bring plants around you.

Lilia

He sympathizes with you, but at the same time, he likes to tease you. Lilia likes to stand a safe distance from you and wave a flower in the air just to see your reaction.

Like Malleus, he makes sure to let everyone know not to mess with your allergy. If they do, he will haunt them while they are awake and in their sleep.

His favorite gifts to give you are fake flowers. Lilia likes to see the panic in your face, followed by the relief when you realize they are fake. Most of all, Lilia likes it when you chase him around for his prank.

Sebek

What is a plant allergy? Sebek literally cannot comprehend that you are allergic to plants. It seems impossible, so he takes it as you joking with him.

He accidentally gives you food with plants, and when Sebek sees your allergic reaction, he panics. Since that day, he advocates for your safety. If anyone tries to come a mile of you with plants, he yells at them.

Sometimes, he takes things a little too far, and due to this, many students in NRC are afraid of being around you. They think Sebek will come out of nowhere and yell at them.

Silver

He feels bad for you. Nothing beats taking a nap in the woods with animals surrounding you, but sadly, you can't do that.

Silver takes your allergy very seriously and sits down with you to know what bothers you and what doesn't. He keeps that list with him at all times, along with a list of 'what to do' in case you have an allergic reaction.

He is one of the most responsible and considerate friends. When Silver is around you, you can be sure you won't suffer any allergy attacks.

Riddle

Plant allergy? Does that also include herbs, fruits, and vegetables? So you literally can't eat anything? Wait, does this also include cotton and plant fibers? So, you can't wear anything made of plants? His head is spinning.

He immediately implements a no-plants indoor policy in his dorm. That way, you can come and go without worrying about your allergens. Unfortunately, he can't do anything about the trees, bushes, and plants outside the dorm.

Riddle is very strict with reinforcing the no-plant or pranks on you policy, and Trey helps him with it.

Trey

Now he knows why you refused to join his club when he offered. Trey can't even begin to fathom how troublesome your allergies are. Plants are everywhere, in every corner, at every place. How exactly do you manage to avoid them?

At times, Trey worries about you and asks you to come over to Heartslabyul for certain meals. If he cooks for you, he can control every ingredient, but that won't be the case for the cafeteria food.

He is even more strict in reinforcing that no plants are brought indoors in the dorm when you are around; moreover, no students do anything to bother your allergies.

Cater

Confused. How did you manage to survive this far in your life? Literally, everything has something plant-related in it, from food to clothes to even houses. Either you are resilient or very lucky.

Cater goes straight to social media to spread awareness about this. In turn, he learns information about plant allergy and uses it to help you.

He even starts a campaign to replace all real flowers/plants placed indoors all around NRC to be replaced with fake ones.

Ace

"Does this mean I can't plant a kiss on your cheek?" Not funny? Ace thought you would laugh at his joke—at least, he thought it was funny.

But seriously? A plant allergy? That's real? He doesn't take it seriously until he sees you get an allergic reaction. Then, he realizes you were being serious. Since then, he hasn't questioned anyone if they say they are allergic to something, even if the allergy is unusual.

He always makes sure to check the gifts he gives you for anything plant-based. Ace secretly feels guilty for triggering your allergy and kinda won't forgive himself for it. But shhh, you don't need to know that.

Deuce

Being an honest and straightforward man, he takes everything at face value. So when you tell him you have a plant allergy, he is startled but doesn't question it.

Deuce is very protective of you and makes sure everything plant-based is kept miles away from you. He even carries extra masks and medicines in case you suffer any type of attack. Moreover, he has the school nurse on speed dial in case you get hurt in any way.

If anyone tries to purposely aggravate your allergy, Deuce will initiate his gangsta mode and say hi to their faces with his fist.

Vil

He takes your allergy very seriously, as Vil values beauty and health above all.

If your allergies cause a physical reaction, Vil will research and create a lotion that will help your skin recover. If you have an internal reaction, Vil will work with some students to create a potion that could help to reduce the effects of the allergens on your body.

He even goes out of his way to find you skin/beauty products that don't have plants in them, so you don't have to worry about putting something on your skin that could potentially hurt you.

Rook

Mon Dieu, the horrors of not being able to smell the divine fragrance of flowers. How can you survive such a life? Rook's heart weeps for you.

He has the most dramatic reaction when you tell him with a poetic monologue that lasts for a few minutes. Luckily for you, Vil is around and tells him to stop.

Rook uses his tracking and hunting skills to learn which environments are safe for you through the campus. If you go near any dangerous environments, you can be sure one of Rook's arrows will fly in front of you, carrying a warning note.

Epel

Then are you allergic to apples? No apples or apple juice?

He even asks his grandmother if there is a cure for it. But even his grandmother is surprised by the allergy information.

Epel has to take a moment to recall if he had done something to trigger your allergies in the past. Maybe he shouldn't have sent you the apple juice? That didn't give you a reaction, right? RIGHT?

He is more careful now and checks everything before giving it to you. Sometimes, Epel even texts you to make sure something is okay to give to you. He may be a little TOO careful.

Idia/Ortho

He has a lot of knowledge about many things, but plant allergy is something Idia was not familiar with. However, thanks to Ortho's program, he got all the information he needed.

If you ever get an allergy attack in Idia's presence, he will panic. Thankfully, Ortho has a built-in protocol that will give help you get back to normal. He even carries allergy meds/pens to be fully prepared.

In his free time, Idia develops a device that allows him to monitor your allergy levels and the potential threats that lurk around you in any environment.

If you ever want to be around plants, Idia will gladly create a virtual world for you so that you can enjoy nature without side effects.

Kalim

Allergic to plants? Then, what do you eat? How do you go on walks? You can't smell the fragrant scent of flowers? Kalim is very sad that you cannot enjoy the simple things in life without worrying about your allergies.

He suggests moving to his homeland. The desert barely has any trees, and his servants will make sure you are taken care of. Did he just indirectly propose to you? Maybe. Not even he knows.

Kalim isn't as careful with your allergy because he has moments when he forgets. For this reason, he always carries allergy meds/pens with him just in case you get a reaction from his carelessness.

Jamil

He has never heard of anyone having plant allergy but doesn't doubt you. Jamil knows not to mess with health and has no plans of messing with yours.

In fact, he talks to the ghost chef and asks the kitchen staff to label the foods with potential allergens. That will not only protect you but also the other students who have allergies.

During his free time, Jamil tries to use his knowledge to brew something that could help entirely diminish your allergy. But then, he realizes that brewing potions also requires plants.

Azul

Allergic to plants? Maybe he could make a business out of his by creating items that are made plant-free in every way. You just gave him a great idea.

Azul makes sure Octavinelle is a safe house for you so that you can come by anytime without worrying about your allergens. He has also warned the workers in Mostro Lounge not to mess with your food and to be careful when serving you.

It's not that Azul doesn't trust Floyd, but if the eel is having one of his mood swings, Azul worries that he might not be paying attention to what he is cooking and accidentally feeds you something plant-based.

Jade

At least you are not allergic to mushrooms. Right? Keeps his mushroom collection far away from you, just in case.

Jade is unfazed by your allergy and doesn't question it. One of the only students who handles your revelation with calmness.

Though he doesn't show it outright, Jades worries about you and invites you to Octavinelle quite often. At least with the underwater theme, you won't be exposed to plants. Wait, are you also allergic to seaweed...and sea plants?

He is curious but not enough to experiment with you.

Floyd

He can't decide whether to be concerned, laugh, or be fascinated. Never once did he think something like a plant allergy existed. Just when Floyd thought humans couldn't get any more delicate, you proved him wrong.

Though he doesn't grasp the concept of allergies at first, Floyd learns through trial and error. This means you have to deal with him accidentally doing things to aggravate your allergies. But then, he will never repeat that mistake again.

However, when you come to Mostro Lounge to eat, Floyd always takes extra precautions and prepares food for you in a separate pan/pot so that you can enjoy your meal without worrying about your allergies.

And if anyone tries to play around with your allergies, Floyd will constrict them. No questions asked.

———————————————

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 24 days

Note

Has anyone asked you about erisol?

If no, then what's your opinion on them! :-)

I feel like people will be upset at me for this, but a completely platonic and completely lukewarm mutual dislike... they don't really like each other, but take no great issue with each other either. The boys are not fightingggg

So like. A common thing in fandoms is taking things at face value and not really reading any deeper into them. You see this a shitton with Eridan in general - lots of people take it 100% at face value that he's a casteist genocide liker, when it's pretty clear upon further examination that he's pretty much lying about being casteist and doesn't actually want to murder his friends. So, at face value, Eridan hates Sollux, and either wants to do spadesies with him, or go ashen with him. And so this has become a really popular ship, but the thing is... at basically every turn, the story kind of goes out of its way to point out that there's actually nothing between them. At least romantically.

See, Eridan does not actually hate Sollux, at least not to the level of pitch/ashen. TWICE before Sollux and Feferi start hanging out all the time, we see Eridan commenting on Sollux in a fairly neutral-negative way - the first time calling him "a drama machine" and noting that "it is fuckin pathetic," and the second time as "the dead guy who saved [Feferi]". And let's be clear about the former, Eridan is just kind of Like That, he's rude as fuck even about people he LIKES (calling his BFF Karkat an "assblood" and sarcastically referring to Feferi by her royal titles), so that's actually one of the less nasty things he's said about someone.

Meanwhile, on Sollux's end, he LITERALLY says "not interested" to what he perceives as pitch/ashen advances from Eridan. Like, actually just says those words out loud. Not even in a pesterlog, he actually just says those words with his mouth.

So it seems to me that there's a pretty clear case to be made here that Eridan and Sollux kind of just... don't really give a shit about each other, and probably wouldn't have interacted in any substantial way if not for Feferi's involvement. Especially because Eridan's chosen method of hitting on Sollux is with casteism, something he's already faking in the first place.

If we really want to dig into this, though, it's kind of - in my eyes - a lukewarm case of the hedgehog dilemma. They're a bit too similar, and it winds up causing them both mild pain to get too close.

They're both nihilists that kind of hate themselves. Sollux's mutated brain causes him a not-insignificant amount of discomfort, his visions of the future and of the "imminently doomed" have made him lose a lot of hope, and he blames himself for killing Aradia, something so painful that he didn't tell anyone else she died, to the point where most of the team - including Terezi and Tavros - had to find out after entering the game. Meanwhile, Eridan struggles with the perceived inevitability of a lifestyle that causes him nothing but distress, and his constant, overwhelming anxiety about it leads to constant stressing over whether or not he's "good enough"; whenever he's in severe emotional distress, he starts beating up on himself.

They also both front at being more okay with their problems than they actually are. Sollux has his 1337 hacker, two cool for you persona that he puts on, and Eridan is always trying to be the big bad sea dweller. For example, Sollux goes "I'm not trolling the humans, it's beneath me," but he's in Jade's trollslum, so the implication there is that he totally did try trolling, it went badly for him, and now he's pretending that he was always better than that. And I don't think I need to tell you how hard Eridan works to try and present himself as badass and scary and totally not deep in the throes of emotional anguish at all times.

And these are the similarities that ultimately make Erisolsprite so stable. Erisolsprite speculates that maybe the reason he hasn't exploded yet is that deep down, he loves to suffer. The truth is, there's nothing between the two that's really so objectionable that they would ACTUALLY hate each other; Eridan isn't actually casteist, and Eridan never really hated Sollux in the first place.

Neither would they bring each other any comfort or joy - Eridan doesn't have any sympathy for Sollux's baggage, since, like, what, he only killed ONE person, and was even under mind control, so it's not like it was really his fault. He's a drama machine. And Sollux wouldn't have sympathy for Eridan's problems, partially because they manifest in such cringeworthy, embarrassing ways (and Sollux is highly sensitive to not being cringe, seeing as he's always commenting on other people being embarrassing or overly earnest), and partially because - I mean, fuck it, he's a rich-ass sea dweller who doesn't need to worry about being harvested to be a battery for a living ship. And also he's an idiot.

That's kind of what their relationship is to me, you know? A tepid and lukewarm dislike. They're just similar enough to each other to understand the other, and just different enough to be like "ugh, but that guy suuuuuuuucks". It's very funny, but not really a ship, hahaha.

So what you really get from that is two guys that just kind of dislike each other. Not vehemently or diametrically enough for pitch or ashen, and not a trace of the requisite pity for flushed or pale. When you throw the two together into one sprite, it won't shut up about how much it hates itself, how each part of itself is flabberghasted by the other, and how much practically the only reason it doesn't explode is a resounding "meh."

Eridan likes to validate his despair; ironically, since it's all he's ever known, it's where he feels comfortable - and nobody would provide better doomscrolling material than the doom player. Similarly, Sollux likes to torment himself, suffering his guilt in silence, and Eridan has SO MUCH to feel guilty over. Combine them into one entity, and you have a guy who can reach SUCH levels of revelling in his own misery, you don't even KNOW.

Not that it's healthy or positive for either of them... just that it would be incredibly stable. It's their worst tendencies being satisfied by each other. Maybe that's a form of leprechaun romance, but it's certainly not a quadrant.

#homestuck #eridan ampora #sollux captor #admittedly sollux is one of the trolls i'm still working on grasping #and this post should also in no way be taken as 'stop shipping them' because idfc #ship what you want who cares hussie has already been driven away with jeering and sneering #i just was always kind of fascinated by the endurance of the ship #despite pretty much every piece of canon involving these two pointing to the fact that they just. kind of dont like each other #but in a platonic way

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thelittleliars · 1 year

Text

Love forever? | Pt.1

Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader Yelena Belova x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Hospital, angst, fluff

Words: 1.2K

Summary: Natasha forgets that you are her wife after she suffered a head injury.

AN: Hi, I'm back 😁 I plan this to be a series but only if y'all want it too? And if I do it pls tell me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Part 2

You always knew this day would come. The day Natasha got hurt so badly that it would shatter your world. She was alive but you were the one who was barely breathing. The scene where Steve knocked on your door, all bloody and beaten up was constantly playing in your head. You knew right that second that nothing he'd be saying was going to be something good. "Natasha is alive." Those were his first words to you. You were glad he started that way since you honestly didn't know what you had done to him if he started any other way. Though his next words were all blurry to you. The words hospital, explosion, blood and head injury stood out for you and started to worry immediately. When he said "Natasha is alive" he actually meant she is alive for now. A head injury could go wrong fast, you knew that first hand since your twin sister died of an head injury after doctors said she'd be fine. You didn't know if you should go to the hospital to be with her or stay away since this all os very triggering for you. It didn't help that you and your wide had a nasty fight the last time you saw her. Would she even want me to be at her hospital bed? I hurt her pretty badly with my words and I do know that I regret saying them but her actions and words also hurt me.

In the end you decided to go to the hospital and be with her. You were an awful wife in her eyes anyways so not going would only proof her right even more. If only the past couple of months didn't happen then you both would still be in the bliss of an 'innocent' honeymoon phase. It wasn't until two days after staying with her and sleeping in the uncomfortable hospital chair, that she woke up determined. "Y/N," she tried to speak with the tube in her throat. You pushed the button for a nurse to while you tried to calm her down. After them removing all the tubes out of Natasha and drinking some water, she was on her feet looking frantic. "Yelena." She muttered over and over again. "I need to find Yelena. Y/N, will you help me find my sister?"

Your heart broke at her words, realizing that her memories were gone. She thought she was back to the time when the Avengers undid Thanos' snap. Back then, which was only almost four years ago, Natasha also got hurt pretty badly, she was treated in a hospital too but you were very close friends there.

"Yes of course I will but Nat, listen to me carefully before you go off running alright?" She sat back down on her bed, looking at you intensely wishing you'd hurry up with what you wanted to tell her. "I'm going to get your doctor to inform him about what we want to do so he can discharge you properly. Then we have to talk where you last saw Yelena before we rush out into the chaos that's currently happening outside, alright?"

Natasha had the urge to ignore your advice and sneak out of here to find Yelena fast but she had a huge crush on you and somehow that made do the right thing by listening to you.

After going out her room and talking to the doctor about her memory loss you called her sister. She came as fast as she could, probably driving like a madwoman through the city. You both decided it was the best for her to stay outside just yet so you could explain Natasha what had happen in peace. "Y/N not to rush you or anything but I really need to go and find Yelena now."

You nodded your head. "I understand and I will help you, I promise. There is something important I have to tell you first though."

"More important than finding my sister?" Your wife started to get upset with you. The serious look you gave her was enough to give in. "Ba-.. Natasha is the last thing you remember how you got injured during the big battle against Thanos?"

"How is this relevant? Wait we won right? Or did I just dream about that?" The color drained from her face, she looked at you like a ghost that was horrified. "Yes we won.. the thing is that happened nearly four years ago."

Natasha wanted to laugh in your face, laugh at the bullshit you were saying, there was no way that happened four years ago. She grabbed all of the wires and iv's attached to her and ripped them all out, you rushed to her knowing she wants to escape from here. "I need to find Yelena." Was all she said but you didn't let her, it made her angry that you hold her back. After telling you once again she needed to find Yelena, you literally had to hold her.

Yelena decided to come in as soon as she heard noises along with shouting. The sight of you on the ground looking shocked and scared made her heart ache. She knew that it was Natasha's doing, Nat probably did one of her signature moves on you and Yelena knew that some of those moves hurt a lot when you come in contact with the ground. "Natalia, what the hell?!" Yelena came rushing to you, helping you get up but before she could ask you if you're alright you ran away. Nobody could blame you though. You basically just lost your wife and then she hurt you physically for the very first time.

Yelena visited you at your and Natasha's house in the evening. She told you about how Natasha stayed with her until she would remember more. One thing Yelena had yet to tell you was your wife wanted a divorce. Nat saw pictures of you three together at Yelena's apartment. Once iconic photo in particular was how she figured out you two were married. It was the photo of Yelena making a gagging face when you two had your first kiss at your wedding, it was clear to see you two standing the background. The blonde widow counted you as her sister in law, she loved you being her sister and additionally good friend.

It all came back biting her ass a couple of days later when Natasha demanded the signed divorce from you. You were broken at the news of your wife wanting a divorce and your sister in law hiding that information from you. You felt betrayed by both. Yelena broke out in tears the second she saw the devastated on your face. "I-I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you. You're my sister and I didn't want to be hurt even more. I honestly thought Natasha would change her mind about it."

"Yel oh god what am I supposed to do now?" You broke down in her arms, needing the closeness and comfort from her. The fact that you didn't seem upset with Yelena was a huge relief to her, she was afraid of losing you. "I don't know Y/N.... one thing I do know for sure is that you won't lose me okay? This is real, this sister bond is real to me and I love you too much to let you go."

You cried in her arms to the point you physically couldn't cry anymore. There was a silent agreement or swearing that you were never gonna loose Yelena.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x fem!reader #Love Forever

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imagining-in-the-margins · 11 months

Text

The Mother Wound (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader bond over having emotionally absent mothers. Request: reader has an abusive parent and she has developed ptsd from that A/N: Written for a very dear friend of mine, and anyone else who needs to hear it. This is also my entry to @foxy-eva’s Celebration Challenge (prompt “Overcoming Trauma”)! Be sure to show her some love! Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader (also consistent with platonic love) Category: Angst/Comfort Content Warning: Mother’s Day, strained parent & child relationship, implied no contact (with mother), implied mental or physical abuse (from father), crying, feelings of shame Word Count: 2.5k

MASTERLIST

I didn’t go home for Mother’s Day.

I knew that I was supposed to, but I didn’t. Instead, I stayed exactly where I was. Some might say it was inertia, but I knew better. There was no real excuse for violating the duty granted to me by nature of having been born.

But at least I wasn’t the only one.

The case that had almost served as an excuse was both local and over. It ended with serendipitous timing that allowed almost everyone else to scurry home in time for an attempt at recreating a home cooked meal for the woman that taught them… well, everything.

Spencer stayed with me. He called his mother, though.

As I sat on the park bench overlooking the lake, I turned back to see him with his phone still pressed against his ear. Even from where I was sitting, I could make out his knitted brow. It felt too intimate for my tired heart to handle, and so I turned away.

Sort of like how I was avoiding my mother.

My insides twisted and their rioting made my bones rattle. It felt as though my body was tearing in two in protest of my failure to acknowledge its creation.

I breathed in, slowly but with a trembling lip. I breathed out much quicker, like a swift punch to the gut that left me doubled over.

When I brought my hands to my face, I felt the wetness of freshly shed tears. I looked up at the water, resting and rippling reflections of the universe and I wondered how many oceans I could fill with this feeling.

“Hey, are you ready to go?”

Spencer’s voice tore me mercifully from the thought.

“Hey,” I said as I sat up.

My hands were still over my eyes, rubbing constellations against damp eyelids and hoping that the red would quickly fade.

“Sure, we can go,” I tried to assure him when I finally turned to face him.

But Spencer, that sweet boy with his wringing fingers and always-averted gaze looked directly into my eyes—endless oceans of grief with a relentless rip current of rage.

He said nothing. Behind us, the frogs and crickets sang a raucous symphony that sounded nothing like a good mother’s tongue.

After a moment, I realized how little time had passed.

“Did your mom not answer your call?”

“No, she did,” he said with a curt shake of his head. Then, with more broken movements he tried to explain, “She just uh…”

I stared back. His eyes fell away, turning towards the lake as his face stretched into a strained smile.

“She’s having a bad day,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I offered.

“It’s alright,” he refused.

So, we stayed, both filled to the brim with inertia borne from the same shame.

That was, until he asked, “Can I sit with you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The bench was big enough that I hadn’t needed to move to make room for him, but I did it, anyway. I shrunk into myself exactly the way my mother had taught me to do.

Spencer watched me as I withered. Through my peripherals, I watched him struggle against the same instinct.

But then he gave a small act of courage, the trembling of a hand splayed against a bench, the demand to take up space.

It made my heart ache.

“I’m having a bad day, too,” I told him.

Spencer smiled.

“That’s alright,” he shrugged.

My mouth dropped open and stayed there. I silently wondered how many years of suffering it must’ve taken to grow muscles capable of letting go, of feeling badly freely.

“Truthfully, I’ve never really liked Mother’s Day,” he sighed. “It always felt… forced. If not slightly resentful, even.”

What cruel words they were, like a twist of a knife in already knotted insides.

It was an irresponsible thing to say, a horribly upsetting suggestion that I understood with such fury that tears poured down my cheeks with no warning. Again, I fell forward, caught by my own hands that tried to stifle the sobbing.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he shouted.

Then, with a voice like a child, he begged me to believe him.

“I-I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. I even surprised myself with a laugh and an uncharacteristic level of introspection. “I just… I relate a little too much to what you just said.”

“I’m still sorry,” he offered.

“It’s fine,” I refused.

We sat together in the suffocating darkness until one of us found the courage to speak again.

It was him first.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really,” I said.

My courage followed slightly later, with the word ‘yes’ fighting through my throat.

Eventually, it came out as a weak and broken, “Maybe.”

Spencer’s eyes scanned my features while I looked up at the lake.

“I’ve been told I’m a very good listener when I manage to be quiet,” he deadpanned.

I laughed. It tasted bitter like the words bottled inside of my chest. It sounded bitter like the way my mother never could compliment me without a condition.

“I just feel terrible saying it all today, of all days,” I sighed. My hands fell back to my lap, abandoning any hope that I could hide my weakness from his eyes.

In an unexpected and swift motion, Spencer moved closer. His body radiated warmth and the faint but familiar smell of a better home.

Without any attempt at hiding or quieting his voice, he chuckled, “I promise you, anything bad you could say about your mother, I’ve thought worse.”

I scoffed, but it didn’t dissuade him.

“I doubt that very much,” I explained.

But he was persistent.

“I mean it.”

Almost enough for me to believe him.

Our eyes locked. Mine, slightly squinted as I tried to find hidden meaning. His, wide eyed and innocent, as though he’d done nothing wrong at all.

“What if I told you that… I was relieved when she hung up on me?” he said, further betraying those eyes. “I spent the whole day dreading that phone call, and I barely managed to smile until I heard the dial tone.”

So simple, so sure that he’d done nothing wrong. I was inclined to believe him.

“What would you think about me?” he asked, “Would you think I was awful?”

“No,” I admitted.

His saturnine smile didn’t wane, but it trembled with both pride and pain.

“I agree,” he said. “Your turn.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

It had been close enough to the truth that I couldn’t call it a lie—but Spencer didn’t believe it. He spared me the humiliation of saying that, though.

Instead, he took my hand. His grip was soft and warm despite the springtime chill, exactly like his eyes. He looked at me with such reverence that I felt compelled to hide.

He didn’t let me do that, either.

“Try,” he said instead, “For me.”

He didn’t let go when my fingers twitched in his grip. Again, the seemingly small act of bravery—the daring to hold me even when my hands grew clammy and harder to love—felt like a balm over a bullet wound bleeding harsh words.

I took a deep breath before I spoke.

“I don’t know what to say about my mother because I don’t think I’ve ever had one. I don’t think I really know the woman who made me and I’m not sure I ever will.”

Spencer didn't move. Not even a nod.

Quieter then, with waning confidence, I cried, “I’m not sure if I would even want to know her. But then I say that out loud and I know I’m lying like she always said I was.”

A sob shook my body and I almost pulled away. Spencer was caught off guard by the sudden jerk, but his grip tightened like he saw how ready I was to bolt.

“Being confused isn’t the same as lying,” he offered.

“It doesn’t matter,” I refused.

So did he.

“It matters,” he insisted. “It matters to me.”

I tried to scoff but I choked on the sound. My free hand clutched at my chest like it could stop the way my heart was tearing in two.

I should have known better, though. How could my heart break in half when it was never whole to begin with?

As I fell back against the bench, Spencer’s grip loosened. He would’ve withdrawn completely if I hadn’t stopped him by squeezing tighter.

He settled, too. We both relaxed against worn wood and shivered from Winter’s dying breath.

“Sometimes it feels like there is this… ache inside of me,” I whispered along the whistling wind, “No matter how much I try to bury it over the years, I can’t seem to shake it. It’s like…. It’s like I can feel her. This version of myself that was never allowed to be.”

I held my hand out like an offering to the lake. I stared at a calloused palm l long enough for it to tremble under the weight of nothing.

“When you’re a child, all you want is a mother. Your mother,” I cried as my offering turned to a fist, “You crave it so badly, that reassurance, that comfort, that… unconditional love.”

Spencer looked down at his own scarred palm.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “you’re right.”

I wanted to pause, to let him speak and hear what he might have to offer from the safety of the other side of this suffering.

Yet when I spoke again, I swore I saw him shrinking away.

“They say when you grow up with an angry man in your house, you will always find him in your house, no matter how far from him you run. And they’re right. They…”

I turned to find him with furrowed brows pointed at the ground. I watched the breath come to him just to leave him again.

I recognized the signs of a heavy heart. Deciding that spilling half of my heart would be enough for now, I swallowed the words about my father. I turned back to my mother at the same time Spencer turned back to me.

“I never expected anything else from my father. But next to him, in front of him, in the space between the two of us, where my mother was meant to be, there is…”

“Nothing,” he finished for me.

“Exactly,” I croaked.

I wasn’t sure how I had any breath left, much less painful, beautiful words to try to fill the black hole where there was once an umbilical cord.

“I can feel it,” I muttered, “I can feel the lack of her like an insatiable hunger that feels… exactly like my father.”

I squeezed his hand. Tighter with each passing word, waiting to see how much of my rage he was willing to endure before I became unlovable.

“That child inside of me is made of monsters without mothers. I am, at my core, half-empty,” I nearly yelled, gripping him so tightly that I swore I felt my own muscles tearing, “and I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to fix that without a mother to teach me how!”

I gasped. My hand let go, flew away from him as I collapsed forward once more. I held myself with that same cruelty—digging nails into skin that looked both too much and not enough like my mother.

To my surprise, Spencer scrambled forward, but he didn’t pry me apart. Instead, he wrapped careful arms around me until he felt the full weight of my grief.

He cradled my head against his chest with trembling hands. I could see angry red welts where my fingers had been, and it only made me cry harder.

I wept shamelessly, clinging to him with tainted hands and half of a heart.

He said nothing and it sounded nothing like my mother’s silence.

Eventually, I came to join him in the liminal space between our suffering.

“I’m afraid I’m going to be angry forever,” I whispered.

“You won’t,” he answered in a way that sounded a lot like a lie. A half-truth, an almost abandoned hope.

He saw how badly I wanted to challenge the notion. He knew he couldn’t promise me peace, so he abandoned the hoping and returned his energy to holding me instead.

“I wish I had all the answers,” he said, and for the first time, I heard his voice shake. “I’ve spent a lifetime searching for something to help me calm that crying child and I just…”

Our bodies rocked with the soft rippling before us. Spencer’s tears dripped onto my chest and I realized no number of oceans could ever contain this feeling.

“I know,” he blubbered. “I know how it hurts. I know how terrifying it is to grow up with the full knowledge of how cruel the world can be, and it isn’t fair that you had to wait this long.”

How long, I wondered, how long does one have to suffer to be able to admit it wasn’t fair?

I bore witness to his final act of courage. I looked at him, saw him, saw the reflection of my fear and shame as it slid down his cheeks.

“I know that no one can completely fill that empty space,” he sniffled.

Slowly, he lifted heavy eyelids. Our eyes found each other once more, and he chuckled at the sight of himself in my eyes.

“But I can try,” he said with a shrug. “I can try to make it smaller. Because I know where to stand and how to hold you. I can bring a flashlight and beautiful things to try to drown out the darkness just a little.”

I bit down on my lip but it slipped away. With it came the secret still kept tightly against my chest.

“I’m scared,” I offered.

“I know,” he accepted.

Tired, trembling arms held me higher. He pulled me from the wreckage until my arms fell around her shoulders and my face buried against his neck.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, “We’re gonna make it. I promise.”

In my own radical act of bravery, I allowed myself to believe it. I closed my eyes and I held him, too. With an equal amount of bravery, he let me.

And within the comfort of that embrace, I found a memory that didn’t exist; a vision between the kaleidoscope of colors behind closed eyes.

There were two children adorned with capes made of old curtains and a flashlight strapped to their heads. Their hands were tightly clasped and clammy, like kids’ hands always were. But his grip was strong and steady and neither of them felt scared.

The beams of light fought through thickets of darkness ahead of them.

“Are you ready?” he said through a bucktoothed grin.

He takes a step forward and they both notice how the light travels further with every step.

“Yeah,” the small child inside me says without a tremble in their voice, “let’s go home.”

They couldn’t know where they were going but they didn’t let it stop them. The trek was long and the journey was difficult, but it was made easier by the company of a friend.

With clammy hands tightly clasped, they tried to make their way through the darkness to that storied place where nothing bad happened.

I didn't go home for Mother's day.

And nothing bad happened.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my CM Father's Day Rec List here! It has SFW and NSFW categories.

Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @will-byers-needs-a-hug

Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme

Thanks for reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid self insert

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yandere--stuck · 8 months

Note

I just read your yandere bulkhead and it gave me an idea.(This is all platonic btw)

What if, after a little while, the autobots get attached to the kids, so much so that they start seeing them as their sparklings.

They slowly make more adjustments for them at the base. Then they start getting more protective of them. All the sudden the autobots are hesitant to let the kids leave more and more. They start pushing away from Fowler and June. And finally, the autobots refuse to let the kids outside of their care because in their mind they are just sparklings.

This could work with or without reader, and it can be a big oneshot or a full on story. It's really your choice.

Basically all together it's platonic yandere autobots.

REAL REAL REAL SO REAL I LOVE FAMILIAL/PLATONIC YANDERES. Clawing the walls of my enclosure rn

I've thought about this so much watching tfp THEY'RE FAMILY. They love their kids ;w;

This isn't a straight up fic just spouting ideas I've had because so I hope you enjoy anyway! ^^;

---

No Cybertronian was left unaffected by the pain of war. Friends, family, allies… All of Team Prime had lost at least someone to the horrors of war. Who wouldn't be changed by that? Who wouldn't become invested in the little family of allies they'd made? Who wouldn't want to protect and care for these kids? These kids they've grown to know and love and want to protect so badly? Is that not what family is?

It started off slow. Just the bots getting closer and a bit more affectionate with their charges. Bulk picking up the kids to (carefully!) hug them. Extra hugs and hair-ruffles from Arcee. The 'bots working in 'I love you's to their goodbyes or goodnights.

They'd be smart enough to keep up a facade about their intentions around Fowler, but it's much harder with June. She won't allow Jack to stay over or stay longer than usual, and is hesitant about letting Rafael and Miko stay, too. June argues that the kids miss too much school already because of this, not to mention Jack flaking on his shifts! But, she just won't listen to reason! The autobots can learn human curriculum to teach them! And Jack was so young, why did he need a job? Sounds like *someone* isn't good enough at providing for their young. They don't want to hurt June, just… Turn over custody of Jack and allow them to do the same with Raf and Miko without contacting the families or police or Fowler!

They'll get a consistent supply of food and drink, beds, books and games, more comfortable pieces of furniture for organics... The children take it in stride and are excited and thankful. Just as Optimus predicted.

With the trap set, the kids alone, Fowler distracted, and June secretly locked up within the base until she would come around, they're locked in. They don't even realize anything wrong until they asked to be dropped off at home, only to be met by refusal. Stern explanations and consoling reassurance.

But the kids are anything if not crafty, and will likely put their heads together to come up with a plan. Jack would be their man on the inside, so to speak. Pretend to go along with the Autobots' wishes and accept them as family until he gets enough freedom or the opportunity to call for help or make a break for it. Because as smart as the Autobots were, they were obvious.

Even Optimus.

It was obvious that Jack was the favorite. Why else was he given the key to Vector Sigma?

"The prodigal son," as Miko put it.

It was easy for Jack to lean into Arcee as his mom. Because he'd be lying if he didn't see Arcee as a maternal figure, yeah, but he already had a mom. He had the dynamic down. But what was hard was being alone with Optimus.

Optimus gently held Jack in his hands, telling him how overjoyed he was that Jack saw him as a father. That he adored him, his son. That there's nothing Optimus wouldn't do for him. And Jack breaks. He cries. He let's Optimus hold and soothe him as he cries, asking his Dad why he left and pleading with him to never leave again, and at some point Jack couldn't tell whether his words were directed to a metaphorical father he never met or Optimus.

Either way, he couldn't bring himself to continue the plan. He was sorry, but he hoped Miko and Raf would understand.

Miko is Bulkhead's sparkling. There is no question. Don't get him wrong, he loves Jack and Raf, too! All of them are the team's sparklings, after all. But, Miko is special to Bulk. He wants nothing more than for her to ditch her host family and realize her so-called 'actual' family clearly didn't care for her enough to want her around! But, Bulkhead did. He loved her. And he'd do anything for Miko if she'd just call him Dad.

Rafael couldn't have known, but it was probably a bad idea to tell Ratchet about his large family and how loud and busy it is at home, now the medic is using it as a reason to keep Raf at base. Rafael's 'family', if he could even call them that, clearly didn't care about him enough to know where he went at all hours of the day, so they likely wouldn't notice if Rafael stayed there permanently - and more importantly, with those that actually loved and cared for him. His real family.

While Ratchet is probably the most stern out of the kids' caretakers, he's also the most likely to coddle and baby them. Because by the AllSpark, the eldest of them had only come into existence sixteen years ago! Compared to Cybertronian lifespans, their human sparklings were nothing more than infants!

He loves picking up the kids and carrying them around, held up against his chestplates like he did with his child and grandchildren, but unfortunately Rafael is the only one who consistently allows him to do so.

—

If the team is able to convince themselves that the kids are their biological-sparklings somehow (separation after incubation? Maybe crashing onto Earth in pods and taking on human altforms to survive?), they are quick to turn on June, especially Arcee. How could she call herself Jack's carrier? Jack was Arcee's kid!

Arcee would be incredibly apologetic to Jack, even as he tried to make her see reason. How could she have been so stupid? How couldn't she recognize her own sparkling right in front of her? She'd lost so many… She couldn't lose him, too.

Bulkhead would assert that he and Wheeljack were Miko's carrier and sire (not necessarily respectively). He'd have to catch Jackie up to speed, but Bulkhead was sure Wheeljack would come to remember the child they almost lost. He'd have to.

He knew Miko would be mad for a long while, but it was only because she didn't understand and didn't realize that they were really family. She'd come around and things would go back to normal - better than normal. He'd hold and hug her often, for as long as she allowed before she starts kicking and squirming.

It hurt seeing her angry at him. It hurt so deep when she shouted that she hated him. But it made it all worth it when she finally broke down into tears, realizing that Bulkhead did care about her. No matter how bad it got. He wouldn't throw her away. Bulkhead was more of a Dad than her actual father. Maybe going along with things would just be easier. Less sad.

Ratchet claimed Rafael as a grandchild. He thought he lost his child and all her sparklings, but… No. No, one managed to escape whole in protoform, somehow. And that was his dearest Rafael. Something about the look in his eyes and the rusted color of his hair… His spark still aches from the pain he'd brought unto him, before Ratchet knew. How he had nearly failed him. Had almost lost the last of his family. How could he have been so blind?

But, no. Not anymore. Not ever again.

Ratchet would somehow be even more coddling than if he thought the kids were completely human. Would try to scruff them, hold them while bundled up in blankets they had snatched, never allowing them to be out of his sight when under his sole care.

I think Bumblebee would either side with the kids or just be so glad that Raf and the others wouldn't be leaving again that he wouldn't want to help. It's like Rafael said, they're family. Brothers, right? Family doesn't leave each other behind.

Optimus is definitely the most restrained out of the Autobots, but still as endlessly loving. They are not just the hope for their people, but for him and his friends, as well. Optimus thanked his lucky stars every day that he somehow stumbled upon their sparklings and their family could be reunited.

At least, that's what he'd think when he's able to keep away bouts of regret and lucidity.

#platonic yandere #familial yandere #yandere transformers #yandere transformers prime #yandere autobots

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piratefishmama · 9 months

Text

Finders Givers | Prompted by @aellafreya

Curiosity.

Some may call it a dangerous thing. Some may argue for its ability to lead you to the truth of things. Some may claim it leads you to temptation, to regret, to suffering.

Steve Harrington, was curious.

He’d found the source of his curiosity while visiting a bar he’d planned on purchasing. It wasn’t a huge establishment. Or a well known one. Not exactly big bucks in the making but it was sat in a prime location atop a cellar that led to miles of underground tunnels which frankly.

He wanted.

He wanted them and not for legal reasons either. The tunnels weren’t on any official city map, predating them, Robin and Nancy, his right hand, and his researcher, found them by pure chance while on a fun little jaunt through the local libraries.

Fun being a stretch for Robin, but she needed to hang out with another woman her own age. And so did Nancy.

But he wanted those tunnels, they stretched all over the damn city, with just a little bit of work they could pop up anywhere, perfect for many a less than legal activity.

So many by-chance happenings had led him to that ratty little bi-fold leather wallet. Wasn’t even quality leather either. It looked old too, black with an embossed devil head pattern that probably came from some truck stop somewhere.

He could have just handed it in to the owner he was trying to buy out, could have even thrown it away, but curiosity was a devil sometimes. So there he was, sat down at one of the many tables in that little bar while one of his people did the majority of his work for him (honestly what’s the point of having people if they cant do your work for you?) perusing the contents and feeling more and more depressed by the second.

First, there was a wad of coupons and a single quarter in there instead of bills, which was never a good sign.

Second, a single, solitary, sad, badly rolled little joint.

Third. A single bank card with Mr E J Munson on it. Not even a credit card, just. A debit. Which statistically didn’t mean great things about this person’s credit score. Could just mean the owner was trying to avoid debt, but… doubtful.

Fourth, a stick of gum.

Fifth, a guitar pick.

Sixth, a library card, oof couldn’t even afford to buy the books.

An expired driver’s license desperately in need of renewal registered to Edward Joseph Munson, the photo made him look like he’d just gotten out of jail or some shit, his hair a terrible buzzcut and eyes too big, too dark, and too haunted to be anything else, but then that was just sometimes how those photos turned out. He could have been a totally innocent man!

It had his address on it, a few descriptors, height half an inch shorter than Steve himself, brown hair, brown eyes, male, 140lbs at point of issue (he’d been seventeen), date of issue, issuing State, along with a date of birth, clocking him at a year older than Steve, twenty nine, and… that he was apparently a donor.

And finally, a month old pay stub from a local fast food joint. So minimum wage worker at best.

It was… kind of sad really. Steve actually looked up the address on his phone, just for curiosities sake, because he was already in deep enough to look through a guy’s wallet, might as well google the poor saps address, just in case he felt charitable enough to drop it off on the way back to the high rise.

Oh there was that deep sadness some people might yell ‘I told you so’ about.

It wasn’t bad. But it sure as shit wasn’t good either. Steve knew of at least six bottom dweller drug dealers that operated out of that block, which explained the joint.

And also made him sadder about the joint, the weed probably wasn’t even all that good.

“Hey Robbie?” His long time friend and platonic soulmate turned her bored gaze over to him, she’d been playing angry birds on her phone, he could hear the war cries of those birds every time she launched one. “We done any charity this quarter?”

“Mmmmmnmnnnnoooooo?” It always looked good to the public for a rich guy like him to do charity work. Wouldn’t look too deeply into him if he was seen publicly doing good. “Unless you count telling Dustin to go wild in that nerd shop last week as ‘charity’, your child nearly emptied the damn shop.”

“Nah that was his birthday present, can’t call that charity.” He wasn’t going to reiterate that Dustin wasn’t his child. He was basically mom at that point.

“Alright, so what’re you thinking?” She sat up, turning to face him properly, putting her phone screen down on the table “Sponsoring something? A drive? There’s this cute little animal shelter in Japan called HEART I read about last month, ran by just a woman and her husband working with volunteers, could be a good thing to donate to? Helping animals is always good for PR.”

“…Those sound way better than what I was thinking, this guy’s wallet is bumming me out.” The expression on her face could have probably put grumpy cat to shame. “Pick one of your choices and do something with it, whichever you want. Imma do something about this wallet.” It didn’t have to be a big PR stunt, the fact that he was doing it on the DL as well? It always came back around all sunshine and roses because people believed it was totally selfless.

Didn’t do it for PR, couldn’t be doing it for PR, he hadn’t announced it.

It was always for PR. Always. The reaction just took a little longer to circulate and people were suckers.

“Just give it back to him? That should be charity enough. It’s like nine bucks to replace a driver’s license, you’re saving him nine bucks. Charity.”

“For someone who started out poor, you’re awful, Robin Buckley. Deal with this bar thing for me would you? I’m going to go on an adventure.” Curiosity was a powerful thing!

“Alright but if you come home with another stray I’m suing!”

“That was—”

“Seven times Steve! Seven!!” It wasn’t his fault that he struggled to see teenagers down on their luck. And four of them were two sets of siblings so it technically counted as one time per set, and one came with Nancy so—!

“Fine!” –So, he wouldn’t argue.

Empires weren’t built with throw away people who held no loyalty to you although he did have many of those on staff. Empires like his were built on the foundation of family, and while the one he’d grown up with was a little bit lacklustre, the one he’d built was perfect.

So he wouldn’t argue, he knew she loved them just as much as he did, in her own way, and that any additions would be welcomed with open arms.

—

Steve didn’t take the car. Although he probably should have, he knew at least three of his people would be following him, keeping an eye on him for safety reasons. At a distance of course but they’d be tailing him for the sake of safety.

That neighbourhood wasn’t safe. No matter if he had a weapon on him or not, it wasn’t safe for people like him.

People with visible wealth.

The watch on his wrist alone was probably worth more than some of the buildings in that neighbourhood, and it wasn’t exactly early in the day either. The sun setting made for an excellent ‘rich person in the wrong goddamn neighbourhood’ future police report.

But he made it to his destination unscathed.

The fast food joint from that pay stub. He even double checked the address on it. The chances of this Edward Munson being there were low, but that was fine, he just wanted to check it out. The atmosphere in there, the management styles, he’d hang out in the corner, get a cheap coffee and people watch for a while. See how fun Edward's work life was so he could add it to his decision making tree.

Curiosity really was one depressing little bitch baby.

The manager on staff was loud. Rude. Sexist. And he was pretty sure he’d made one of the staff cry because she’d hurried out very quickly rubbing at her face and sniffling. The temptation to put out a hit on him? High. But no, that was a lot for one asshole… maybe he’d just send Jane out, let the kid take his knees out.

She deserved a little bastard ba—

Someone beat him to it. A commotion later started by someone with a lot of hair, hair that’d been put up in a net and half hidden beneath the uniform’s god awful mustard yellow cap. It’d been two hits, the guy hitting him, and the manager hitting the floor, blood pouring from a very broken nose, spectacular.

The rest of the staff looked on in wide eyed horror, one yelping “Eddie, holy shit!” as the man pulled his cap off to reveal all that hair. “You’re so fired!”

“Didn’t need this shit show anyway! Chris an I quit, peace out assholes!!” Eddie. Eddie. Steve rose to his feet. Godawful coffee forgotten in the face of the mystery Edward, who caught his eye once before continuing on his way, all big brown frankly beautiful Bambi eyes, less haunted but still so big, full, kissable lips, and god, so much hair, going in the same direction as the blonde who’d disappeared to probably go and cry.

Eddie did need that job. He really needed that job. Steve had seen the state of his wallet. He needed that job, or at least he needed the paycheque that came from that job. Couldn’t even afford to buy his own books! He rented them, he rented books.

Jesus.

God, Robin was gonna judge him so bad for the person he was about to become.

Part 2

#PirateWrites #FindersGiversFiclet #Steddie #Mob Boss Steve Harrington #No Upside Down AU #Shady!Steve #CW: Stalker Vibes #nothing nefarious it's all lighthearted non-threatening stuff #Sugar Baby Eddie who never agreed to be a sugar baby but isn’t complaining.

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daisygirlwrites · 1 year

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I was wondering if I could get a platonic Simon ghost Riley headcanon of just simply being best friends with him ??

Rough Start (pt 1)

Summary: The first few months of Ghost and Crash's relationship

(pt 2-olive branch)

(pt 3-little things)

Warnings: Descriptions of violence and death. Mentions of verbal abuse. Slight Angst

Pairing(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem! Reader (Platonic)

Note: No use of (Y/N). Crash's former callsign was 'Shrike'

a/n: hello hello! im so sorry that i've been late with posting, my schedule keeps changing >:0 but i am finding times to write! as you can see, this is going to be a multi part because i had no self control when writing these headcanons. not sure how long it's going to be but i do know that the next part will be up this week! another thing, just passed 200 followers! i will make a separate post about itbut please send me asks/request! thank you so much for reading!

taglist: @bobfloydsgf , @itsscromp

He, along with Price, heard the rumors going around you. It was said that your skills were similar to his and that people called you “Little Ghost” behind your back. Like him, your specialty is sabotage and infiltration. Both men do some digging into your file.

Ghost was sent a redacted report, wanting to see what skills and training you’ve had but not really interested in your past. On the other hand, Price and Laswell were given the uncensored one.

Some parts of the report made his eyebrow raise though. Especially the one about your former team and their last ‘mission’. At this point he was curious and wanted to take a look of Price’s copy because some of the things he read was:

“Captain Lovelace Reported Dead” “Section Name: ‘BIRD'S NEST’; Turned Against Each Other” “Multiple Buildings On Fire” “Three Survivors: [REDACTED], [REDACTED], and [(LASTNAME)]”

Hell, your (former) callsign was covered with a black line too

But again, he looked over your skill list and previous experiences. If he were to compare an old file of his to your current file, it would be identical. No wonder why Price wants you so badly on the task force, you’re a younger Ghost

He gets called in by Price to have a meeting about your recruitment. He wanted to know Ghost’s opinion about you, though, his mind is already made up about having you on the team. Ghost tells him that having you would be beneficial and that the task force needs more members anyway. But what he doesn’t tell Price is his hesitation for you. Files and reports are one thing but he needs to see you in action to be fully convinced

Price, knowing Ghost for years now, can see the slight uncertainty in his eyes. To help with this, he and Laswell call up old contacts and former teammates that worked with you. All of them give you a glowing review but Ghost remains unconvinced. That is until Price contacts Mace, a former operator that Ghost used to work with.

“Just need your honest opinion about her.” Price said to the phone.

“About Shrike? Well, let’s see; Quiet, does what she’s told, hell of a shot and handy with knives too,” Mace paused for a second, trying to find the right words for what he was going to say next. “She’s still young and honestly, she can benefit with some training but I’m telling you, Price, she reminds me of Ghost when I worked with him seven years ago.”

Laswell made a face, as if she were to say ‘I’m impressed’, while Price eyed Ghost, studying his eyes for any reaction.

“You don’t say?”

“Look, if you don’t want her on the task force, I will gladly have her join my crew.”

Price lets out a soft chuckle, “Sorry Mace, I think we’ll have her transferred to us.”

As Price and Laswell finalize your transfer, Ghost starts making his way out of the office. Price stops him. “Simon,” He calls out. It was rare for him to get called by his last name, let alone his first. Hand already on the doorknob, he turns his head, facing Price. He watches him take a breath, before stating “You’ll be mentoring her.”

“I’m sorry sir, what?”

“You heard me. You’re going to be her mentor.”

Ghost lets out a scoff, “I don’t want to play babysitter, Captain.”

“Out of everyone in the team, she shares the same skillset as you. Plus, it shouldn't take long before she catches up.” Ghost looks away, not wanting Price to know that the last comment bothered him. All he could do was nod and leave.

Fast forward a couple weeks. He, Price and Laswell stand outside the base, watching planes and helicopters land and take off, waiting for your arrival. After a couple minutes, they see a Black Hawk touch down a couple hundred feet in front of them. The blades slow down as the side door opens. Out walks you, a duffle bag in each hand and a rifle case strapped to your back. Spotting the trio, you walk to their direction

Ghost stares at you as you walk towards them. For one, you are much shorter than anticipated, probably around 5’4. Another thing that he notices is your outfit; black hoodie, black cargo pants and a simple black facemask. Price looks at you two and takes note that you look like Ghost’s mini-me, matching outfit and all.

Price was the first to greet you, and ever the gentleman, takes one of your bags even though you respectfully refused. “Now you can properly shake my hand.”

Laswell was next but she gives you a look, as if she were trying to remember something (or someone). Still your introduction was pleasant.

Ghost stayed silent as he watched your interactions with each other. He didn’t even say anything to you as you held out your hand and told him your name and rank. There’s an awkward air between you two and Price watches on, only stepping in to introduce Ghost himself. “This is Lieutenant Simon Riley, your mentor.”

Finally, he returns your handshake. “Call me Ghost.”

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

Training doesn’t start until after your first mission together, which is literally the day after you got to base. Price was concerned at first but Ghost reasons with him; he wants to see how you do when being thrown in the deep end

And you do better than he expected you to. He understands what everyone is saying now and why they wanted you in their team; you may be young and have many things to work on, but you have the potential to be like him. As he is in the height of his career, within years time and training, you have the ability to surpass him.

This makes him a bit conflicted. For one, it’s an advantage to have someone like you in the team but on the other hand he’s worked hard and suffered through so much to be where he is now, so seeing you, young and even optimistic at times, makes him jealous. And Price’s comment stuck with him. A part of Ghost feels like he’s going to get replaced by a younger and better verison in a couple years

So when training does start, he treats you as if you were in basic again and he doesn’t hold back either, especially with how you are on the field.

Price thinks Ghost goes a little too rough in the training sessions but he doesn’t know his jealousy towards you

Will nitpick at every little mistake you do, yelling and shouting as he does so. Has called you stupid, idiot and weak. Does not hold back his strength during hand to hand.

But time and time again, you get up, hands and arms anticipating his next moves, blinking away tears that threaten to spill in front of him. Honestly, this makes him respect you whenever you do this and it also pisses him off even more.

During missions, you are amazing but Ghost wants perfection. He only talks about the objective and anything relating to it. However, when you get back to base, even if the mission goes well, he reprimands you on what you did wrong and what you could have done better. And like how he is during training, he isn’t nice about it either.

This hostile attitude towards you goes for about four months since you joined the team. The rest of the 141 made comments towards him about it but never really stepped in, mostly with how you’re taking everything and not letting it bother you. Yes you’re quiet and shy in the group, but they’ve seen your small acts of kindness. Helping to put gear away, getting them drinks and snacks during breaks and cleaning up the meeting room after it’s done.

But you are still human and you have your limits too. Everything that he throws at you starts to chip the mask you wore whenever he yells. And tonight, you were at the breaking point.

The mission went well, all things considered. Objective cleared and only leaving with some minor injuries too. However during the mission, you noticed some movement from the corner of your eye. An enemy and he was close behind Ghost. You were going off of instincts, immediately pulling out your knife and chucking it towards the man behind him. From Ghost’s perspective, you literally turned around and threw a knife in his direction. He would have screamed at you if it weren’t for the sound of a man choking on his own blood. Ghost turns his head and finds the said man, slumped down against the wall dying and your knife stuck in his neck. Grabbing the handle, twisting it for good measure, he takes it out and hands it back to you. You feel a small sense of pride and happiness when he nods at you.

Thinking that you did good in the mission, maybe this time Ghost won’t yell at you afterwards. But you were very wrong. Once you enter the main building at base, he goes off on you. And your heart breaks all over again, confused at why he keeps doing this and angry at yourself for believing you did something correct.

Price and Soap step in, between you two, to defend your actions and even call him out on his behavior.

Honestly, at this point, Ghost just wants to see you blow up and he believes that you will. But to his shock, you put a gentle hand on Price and Soap’s shoulders and shake your head. You step towards him, meeting his eyes.

There’s a usual ‘sparkle’ in your eyes but this time, you look like you’re dead inside. Months of this verbal abuse, you’re done and he can tell.

The rest of the team step back to give you some space, the room filled with uncomfortable silence.

Your voice, barely above a whisper, questioned him “Why do you hate me?” You search his eyes for an answer, a sign, anything. But he doesn’t give you one, so you guess instead. “Is it because you envy me?”

Ghost eyes widen and you scoff in response, finally getting the message and leaving the room without acknowledging the others.

The team didn’t hear what you were saying but they can tell that it properly pissed off Ghost, watching his hands ball up into fists. However, he doesn’t go after you because in the end, you were right

Part 2 Here!

Part 3 There!

#daisygirlwrites #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john price x reader #price x reader #john price #john mactavish #soap mactavish

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