#like imagine you were put into a world where the people you knew were gone; bu tinstead you're with a bunch of people who

[smuthospital]

⭐️Yandere Husband x reader⭐️

Premise: Your husband really wants kids, but you're not really all for the idea

Warning: Noncon, breeding, fem reader

Minors DNI

You prepared a cute little basket with bread, some homemade jam and a couple of sandwiches along with a delicious strawberry cake you baked just for today! You look up at the playground from where you're sitting, the breeze feeling just right. It's a beautiful day out. Kids playing, people walking their dogs, couples like yourself picnicking. You and your husband have been together for three years and married one. He's the sweetest man in the world and you couldn't feel luckier to be with him. Your mother introduced him to you. He was her close friend's son. His mother and yours just so happen to go to the same knitting class. Although his mother was of a higher class, your mother and his had a lot in common and hit it off right away. Your mother would have buried you six feet deep if you refused to see him, not that you would've. He's handsome, sweet and has a well-paying job. Of course, that's the side of him that he allows you to see.

He begged his mom to introduce you after he saw you sitting on your porch one day when he was picking his mother up from your house. You waved at him and smiled. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. Your beauty was nothing he'd ever even imagined before. Everything about you is perfect. Everything. He asked his mother about you as soon as he drove off. She was more than happy to tell him. She's quite fond of you and would choose you as a daughter-in-law over anyone else. She couldn't be happier that her beloved first son has shown interest in a jewel like you.

He couldn't help but fall even deeper in love when he got to meet with you. Your voice rings bells in his heart and your eyes speak to his soul. He knew from then on that you were made for each other. He would never admit it, but he's absolutely obsessed with you. He would prefer to say that he's in love with you. Dating was smooth. He quickly proposed as soon as an appropriate amount of time passed. It couldn't come soon enough to him. You're so sweet and understanding. So thoughtful and intelligent. You share interests and when you don't, you make the effort to try. So does he, of course. You're so perfect.

Once married, he was happy to go to work and come back to your loving embrace. He'd rather die than have you support yourself. Anything you want, anything you need is yours. You don't even have to ask, your husband is very observant. You might mention something in passing that he'll overhear. Something small, something you didn't even put a lot of focus into, but he'll remember. He'll remember and he'll get it for you as soon as possible. He'd do anything...and that means anything. If anyone made you cry, he'd comfort you...before beating them unconscious. Getting his hands dirty is a small price to pay for you. But dear god, if anyone dared to lay a finger on you... well...consider them gone. Consider them erased actually. Consider the fact that they won't be bothering anyone ever again. Consider people closely associated with them being severely injured.

He's a ray of sunshine. You love him and he loves you. He loves you very much. You've never had any serious arguments. The two of you got along so well that there weren't any disagreements, but there were, he'd just fold and let it go. The only problem is that now that you're married, he wants kids, but you're not ready. You've never been very good with kids. They make you anxious. The sticky fingers, their delicate little heads, the fact that they could become psychopaths if you don't raise them properly. Not to mention how expensive and time-consuming they are. You spend all that time and energy on them and get almost nothing in return. Don't even get you started on the effects it'll have on your body.

There's just too much that could go wrong and besides, you just font feel like you're mature enough to have a kid of your own when you still feel like one yourself. You're not ready to raise a human being. There's so much you want to do, want to explore and you can't do that with a baby. Your husband on the other hand is great with them. He's the eldest brother of six so he's used to taking care of kids. At birthday parties, you can find him carrying three kids at a time, one over his shoulders and two in his arms, even the older ones, which doesn't surprise you because he's built big and strong. Must've eaten his vegetables when he was a kid, you snicker, inwardly. Your husband pokes you every time he sees a cute video of a baby on his phone like a boy asking his parents for a puppy. "Just watch! Aren't they cute!? (Yyyy/nnnn)!" He sticks his phone in your face and makes you watch a bunch of videos. He has a severe case of baby fever.

You look over at your fiance. He's looking out at the swing set with a dreamy look on his face. A little boy is pushing his younger sister and they look like they're having a blast. You cringe, knowing your husband is gonna bring up the baby talk again when you get home. Just then, you feel a light tug on your dress and look over to see a little girl around the age of 4, wobbling on her feet, looking up at you. You at least try to be good with kids. "Hey, what are you doing?" You laugh nervously. You know you're in for it now. You can feel your husband's intense gaze on the back of your neck.

"...Mama said that if I'm good, I can have cake. I was good today, so can I have some,...please?" You look up to see a woman face palming and yelling at her daughter to come back and stop bothering the nice lady. You smile at her mother, letting her know it's okay. "Well you asked so very nicely, how can I say no?" You cut a small slice and plate it for her. You give her the plate, but she just looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. "I...I always let Mama feed me," she says as fiddles with her fingers nervously. So adorable. You look up at her mother, who seems to be busy dealing with one of her other kids and decide to give her a break. Although this is breaching your comfort zone, you just can't say no to that face.

You pick up a fork and begin feeding her. You just know your fiance has the most love-struck look on his face, if you were looking at him, you'd be able to see big hearts in his eyes. You peek over at him to see just that and roll your eyes. "Mm so yummy! Thank you miss!" She gets on her tippy toes and kisses you on the cheek. You must admit that was adorable, but your opinion remains firm. No kids. No way. You still have plenty more reasons not to have any so cuteness is not enough to sway you. The little girl waddles away back to her mom. You don't want to turn around. You sigh and look at your husband to see he is still swooning.

"Oh my god! That was beautiful. You be such a good mom!" He coos. You groan. "We talked about this so many times, honey. You know how I feel about kids," you pout, folding your arms. You could've sworn you saw his eyebrow twitch like he was upset. "You'd be great, I believe in you. I just know it," he beams. Oh, he's not mad. Must've been your imagination. You roll your eyes. He didn't listen to a word you said though. You love him so much, but he's a brick wall when it comes to things like this. He's been on your ass quite literally about kids ever since you got married. "I need more time," you say, looking away from his pouting face. He was a bit gloomy for the rest of your outing after that. Last night, you misplaced your birth control pack. You were worried about it, but you just brushed it off and decided to take two the next night when you do find them.

Soon, your picnic comes to an end and you head home. He's on you as soon as you shut the door, kissing you passionately. You return the gesture, hugging him close. "Don't take your birth control tonight," he whispers huskily in your ear. You stop and push his chest. He takes a step back and looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. "We literally just talked about this! Respect that I don't want any dumb kids!" You shout. You expect him to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness like he always does when he's in the wrong. Then he'd go and get you flowers, and cook for you, but this time, he looks down at you rage evident in his expression. He looks really pissed. You shrink in your spot. What?

"You're being ridiculous, (y/n)! It's time for you to grow up! You're old enough to be a responsible mother so stop acting like a child. I can support the both of you easily. You don't have to lift a fucking finger, just have my child already. I've been so fucking patient with you. My mother and yours have been asking us where their grandchild is. What the fuck do I tell them? I'm wondering too! I've been waiting for you to change your mind and be reasonable, but you're really getting on my nerves now," he grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence. Each sentence felt like a stab to your heart. He's never said such cruel words to you or even cruel words in general before. Your husband hasn't so much as insulted you. You never could've imagined your husband had this side to him.

He gripped your arm and began dragging you upstairs. "Hey! S-Stop! Stop it!" You cry, holding onto the stair rail. He looks back at you. That was the last fucking straw. You hear a loud clap and your head turned. Huh? Your cheek stings? Tears begin to well in your eyes as you hold your reddening cheek. He takes the time to pull you the rest of the way up and into the bedroom. He sets you on the bed and locks the door, taking his clothes off right there, his well-built figure casting a shadow over you. You begin sobbing in your place on the bed, covering your face with your hands. He walks over and gently hugs you, rubbing your back. You push at him, but he keeps you still pressed to his body. "Stop that," he whispers in your ear. His voice is commanding yet gentle, but you ignore him and continue fighting his hold. "That's it. I'm so tired of you acting like this. It's time you give me what I deserve, a family." He grips your dress and violently rips it off you, leaving you in your bra and panties. You've had sex before, but never like this. This is the first time your eyes held fear while looking at your husband.

He shoves you back onto the bed, climbing over you and trapping you beneath him, smiling. He traces a finger from your collar to the center of your bra, where it stills before ripping it off you. You know better than to scream so you whimper as he throws it to the side. He places a hand over your breast, squeezing it painfully. You grab his wrist, trying to pry it off. "You are gonna be a great mommy. Can't wait to watch these fill up with milk." His face takes on that dreamy look again. "Seeing you today in the park confirmed it. You're more than ready." You feel his cock rubbing your thigh. He yanks your panties down your legs, tossing them into the forgotten corner with his clothes and yours. With his other hand and rubs your pussy. You whine and struggle under him, but you know you're no match for him. He spreads your thighs open and lodges himself between them, his cock rubbing up and down your fold, taunting you. "I love you...so much," he says before slowly entering you. You are NOT having a fucking baby. You'll take your birth control and that'll be that. He smiles down at you, knowing what you're thinking and bucks his hips. He laughs like he knows something you don't, but the idea is completely lost on you.

He bottoms out, moaning as he does. He rubs the bulge in your stomach lovingly. "I want a big family, honey. Make me a daddy. Let me breed you," he says, rutting into you. Even though he's being so rough, it feels so damn good. He picks up your thighs and pressed them down beside your head, squishing your cervix with his cock. Your tongue rolls out your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He kisses your neck and cheeks, giving you soft praise. "I knew you'd be good for me. Such a good little wife and soon to be mommy. You're gonna look so cute stuffed with our baby. God, I fucking love you," he chants as he rams into you again and again, your brain is far too clouded by the feeling of him spearing your guts to understand him.

You dig your nails into his back as continues bruising your poor cervix. You let out a choked whine. "It's ok, honey, you can cum. I'll allow it." As if on command, you do. He kisses your lips passionately, quickening his pace. Moans leave your mouth each time he pounds into you, the air and sound being forced from your lungs each time on impact.

His fists curled in the sheets, his eyes clenching. He slams his hips to yours, your body being forced farther before he grabs your hips and forces you back. He grunts as he cums deep inside you, your stomach filling to the brim with his seed. He sighs and kisses your cheek. You breathe heavily, waiting for him to get off, but he doesn't. He just starts going again like he didn't just fill your guts up.

"W-Whah?" You whine. "I need to make sure my seed takes, darling. We'll be doing this until I say we're done so don't complain now." You can tell by his tone that he's daring you to try something. You just clench your eyes and keep taking him. You're so bloated with cum. He's never been like this before, always stopping when you wanted to and treating you like porcelain. Now he's grabbing you and fucking into you like he's been holding back for years, which you now think he has. Your eyelids begin drooping after the sixth time he forced you to cum. You can't keep them open and he notices. "It's ok, take a nap. Warning, I'm not stopping. I guess I tired you out," he laughs.

You wake up to him hugging your back, spooning you. You look at your alarm clock. It's been hours and judging from the still-wet cum all over your thighs, he only stopped recently. You slowly and very carefully slip out of his hold and off the bed. You feel a soreness like never before in your stomach and almost fall to the floor. Oh god, your uterus. More cum slips out of you as you walk to your vanity. You open a couple of drawers where you think your birth control might be, but it's not there. Where could it be if not in your vanity!? You look around frantically, but you still can't find them! You begin looking everywhere. You check the bathroom cupboard, opening it slowly so it doesn't creak and wake up your crazy husband. It's not in there! You look down to see the crumpled package in the trash. You pick it up to see it empty. Every single slot, even the pink period pills. You begin tearing up as you see there are tiny white specs by the sink. No! He washed them away! How could he!? You clutch the sink as you stare at the empty package. You feel a presence creep up behind you. You look up in the mirror to see your husband right behind you, looking down at you with disdain.

"I knew you were going to take them after I told you not to so I got rid of them last night." He planned this!? "Let's go back to bed...Common," he says tiredly and grabs your arm, forcing you back into bed with him, your back to his chest. You feel his cock harden and you try to inch away, but he grabs your hips and rubs his cock up and down your folds before jamming it inside you until he bottoms out. You whimper with your hands over your mouth, knowing that if you annoyed him while he was tired, you'd get in real trouble. He lazily humps into you, rubbing your bulging tummy from behind you, his lips kissing your head. You pass out later from exhaustion.

You wake up to find him not in bed. You take the chance to get up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweats. You grab your wallet and sprint out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the painful limp he gave you and the soreness in your poor tummy. Your wrist is caught mid-air..." Where the fuck do you think you're going, honey?" He asks, his sweet smile contrasting the bone-crushing grip he has your wrist in.

"O-Oh! Um...we...need-" He cuts you off in the middle of your lie, yanking your wrist and forcing you closer to him. "You were going to go kill our baby." You've never seen such darkness in his eyes. "Well, you can't. I won't allow it. The doors have new locks just for you, love. You're not going anywhere." He smiles down at you, that same handsome face you love, but now come to fear. You gulp as he leads you into the kitchen where he prepared a beautiful breakfast.

You soon accept what's to happen. Your husband is a loved man. Loved by all. His family, your family, his job, the community, everyone. Your husband is often described as charismatic, funny, helpful and friendly. If you told anyone of them what he's done to you, they'd call you a liar without hesitation or even better, take his side, agreeing that it's time you give him a child because it's your duty as his wife to do at least that for him. Be a little grateful for all he does. Providing for you and taking care of you. You'd rather keep your mouth shut. Nothing good can come of telling anyone. It only took a few days of brutal fucking till you woke up early in the morning feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom, him hot on your tail, ready to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. You sob as you hug your knees on the bathroom floor. He got on the floor with you, wiping your tears with his thumbs and holding your face. He smiles wide and hugs you tightly. "Yes! (Y/n)! I'm so proud of you! We're having a baby! I love you!"

Yandere husband with pregnant reader head cannons:

- You're allowed out of the house after a while of proving your obedience! Hooray! With the exception that he has to be there, of course. A man flirted with you a bit while you were shopping and your husband was within earshot. You still cringe when you remember the sound the man's nose made as your husband punched him. It took three security guards to get him off the guy.

- Your husband makes you eat so much! "Sit down and finish your food. You're eating for two, remember!? Or did you forget?"

- Paints the baby's room with non-toxic paint and will not let you help or hold anything. "No, it's too dangerous, (Y/n). Sit back down, I've got this, ok?"

- Spares no expense for you and the baby. Buys everything people recommend to him

- Watches youtube videos for things he needs to watch out for during your pregnancy

- Does pregnancy stretches with you and won't take no for an answer. "It's good for you and the baby so get to it! I'll do them with you so we look silly together!" You both still have a fun time.

- You once dropped a book on the floor and your husband burst through the wall to get to you, leaving a cartoon cutout of himself and all. "WHATHAPPENDAREYOUOK!?" He shouted all in one breath. You assured him that you were just fine and that you'd only dropped a book, but he still cradled you in his arms crying.

- Cooks all your meals and cuddles you every single night.

- You being pregnant does not mean he stops fucking you, no. He's just a lot more gentle with you.

- Has everything about your pregnancy and birth planned to the exact detail, even when you'll have the next one.

- He rubs his face against your tummy and kisses it, singing to the baby.

- Do you need to get up? "Here, take my arm...actually...I'll hold you!"

- He picks up the phone on the first ring...and you better too or he's racing home.

#non con #lemon #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere husband #dead dove do not eat

[999h34rt]

FLATLINE | PAIGE BUECKERS

➣ paige x fem!gf!reader

➣ summary: y/n and paige experience what it means to be in a long distance relationship, but with the distance between them, can they overcome it?

➣ warning : secret relationship, angst (kinda) ,long distance.

➣ duayaps: first post🥳🥳🥳, thoughts?

➣ inspired by flatline by justin bieber.

"I'LL MISS YOU" paige muttered against her neck.

"it'll go by before you know it" y/n said pulling away from the hug. When college applications started being filled, she took a big risk and applied for Politecnico di Milano, a fashion uni in Milan, Italy. She had already said goodbye to her parents, thinking that was the hardest goodbye she could imagine, but the tears in her eyes from saying goodbye to her girlfriend right now, told her she lied to herself a while ago.

Paige and y/n had always had a rocky side of their relationship, for one, it was a secret waiting to bomb the world, two, they always knew that long distance was going to be a thing for them. With Paige going to Uconn and Yn going to PDM, 'it was already doomed' said by most people. But overcoming the rocky side of their relationship, there was the fairytale side. The one where they in love, where they supported each other in everything, where they took each others first kisses, first everything. They were each other's lifelines in a way, they didn't go a day without speaking to each other.

They both hoped that these future 4 years, weren’t going to change their feelings of each other.

✩

Lately you've been busy, wondering if you miss me

Why did you go against me? I just wanna know

How come you act so different? Talk to me, I'll listen

All the love I'm giving, don't act like you don't know

“…leave a message after the tone” y/n sighed as she hung up the phone. It was 7am and her alarm had just gone off, Paige was most likely asleep. It’s 1am at Storrs.

If you put the time difference aside, they were doing well. Both of them spent at least 2 hours everyday on the phone and haven’t had an any problems yet.

But it’s only been 5 months. 7 months and 3 years to go.

Y/n was glad Paige settled in great, she got along with her teammates and had a great support system there. Paige became a media star, with that came many fans. While y/n wasn’t the jealous type, these fans were wild.

She opened her instagram app, and slowly started to scroll through stories. When she stopped, went stiff. “Oh” she muttered, her girlfriend’s teammate, Aaliyah, had posted a story with the Uconn women’s basketball team having fun ,at what she would guess, a bar. Paige is in the background , a girl sitting next to her, whiles shes on the phone. Y/n quickly checked when the story was posted,10minutes ago.

‘Okay so she could’ve just posted this when she came home’ y/n quickly assured herself. Paige wouldn’t just ignore her calls, especially on a night out, right?

As those thoughts filled her head, a notification sound came from her phone.

pb 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽

gm baby. can’t talk, tired, going to bed.

y/n didn’t think anything, she couldn’t. She just typed ‘sweet dreams💗’ and hit send.

no i love you, no ily, not even an emoji.

‘Stop, don’t overthink this ,shes just tired’ she told herself. She shut her phone off and got out of bed, leaving her thoughts about P in her comfy bed.

:

It had been a month since the bar incident, and everything seemed normal, until a week ago.

Y/n just got out of work, a small intern job to help her graduate early. It was 6pm in Milan, and 12 in Storrs.On her way home, y/n called P.

The phone rang, 1,2,3 times before she hung up. Tried a gain, 1,2,3. User is busy.Paige had hung up on her, she didn’t think much of it. ‘She’s probs busy’.

That was 6 days ago.

While they exchange texts, no calls were made this week. Paige was busy, like really busy, But not busy ‘not go out with her friends for the 3rd time this week’ busy. Y/n got it, freshman year, new teammates, she had to have fun. She also knew that their relationship was on the down low. Even though she assured Paige that it was okay to tell her teammates, P reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t know, i’ll see’ She muttered to y/n, 2 weeks ago on their normal facetime call.

Y/n didn’t want to think much of it, she didn’t want her overthinking to brew a fight. The last 2 years she was back home, her and paige had never gone a day without speaking to each other, but so what it stopped now?, it was common sometimes to not call. So she let it be, but Paiges text became more and more rare,more dry and definitely more weird.

But y/n knew, paige was just busy.

✩

Girl you always catch me at the bad time (Bad time)
When I know you probably think it's a lie (A lie)
I know I told you last time was the last time (Last time)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

On the other end of the phone. Y/n hit the red button, and ended the call. She hit her head on the wall behind her in frustration, thankful that the call wasn’t on facetime and Paige could see her sad face.

Y/n had called in sick at work so she could watch Paiges game in peace, her boss gave her an earful, because it was one of the more busier seasons in the fashion world, but she let her be ‘sick in bed’. She was proud of Paige, and was the happiest for her.

But the mood drifted when she heard the voice tell her they need her. ‘I need her too’ Y/n thought. This was the first time in a month that Y/n heard Paiges voice. Her heart clenched when she heard her sound weird, it sounded like she was frustrated. Frustrated with who though, with y/n?.

As time went quick, it felt like Paiges texts were more rare, and even more dry. And Y/n didn’t know if Paige was aware of the way she was acting, she also didn’t know if she should say anything, Paige was a freshman in college having fun, alone,without Y/n next to her.

If Y/n were to say anything, she didn’t want to seem like the bitchy jealous girlfriend that only wanted Paige to spend time with her, she just wanted Paige to spend some time with her.

It felt like their relationship was a bomb, and their time was running out quickly.

How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline? (Flatline)
Cause when I hit you, you don't even reply (Reply)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

✩

Not breathing, what is it I'm not seeing
Said she's leaving, damn I can't believe it
It's like my heart's bleeding knowing that you don't need me
Shut my heart down, now I don't know what Imma do now

“… i just need some space y/n” Paige said with frustration, a sigh coming after. Y/n’s heart dropped.

It all started an hour and a half ago.

Paige went out with her teammates after a late night practice, forgetting that y/n was waiting on her phone call that she promised she would do after practice.

After she came home, she was bombarded with messages from Y/n. 8 to be exact.

y/n💍

hey did you finish practice?

- 8:15PM

you ready?

- 8:18PM

paige?

- 8:20PM

paigeeeeeeee???

- 8:30PM

pbabyyyy

- 8:35PM

pls tell me u didn’t forget

- 8:45PM

paige are you fucking kidding me

- 9:45PM

it’s our anniversary

- 9:45PM

call me when you get home and make sure you’re not busy

- 9:50PM

And when she called, the yelling happened. It was the first fight they’ve had in a while. While Y/n finally exploded demanding to know what’s happening with her, Paige only had one thing to say.

“I think we should take a break”

“What?” Y/n whispered after a long pause.

“i’m not ready to be in a relationship Y/n/n, i’m still questioning what i want, and i don’t know if its you yet.” Paige said. “I’m sorry, i just need some space Y/n”

Y/n heart dropped, she didn’t know what to say or think. While Y/n knew that not everything lasted, Paige was a sure thing. Paige was her lifeline. What was she going to do?.

Y/n gulped and said the only thing she knew she could say “It’s okay”.

‘It’s okay?’ Paige was taken back. Had Y/n want to breakup before?, and then Paige shockingly felt hurt in her chest, her stomach slightly dropped. Why was she feeling like this? why isn’t she feeling relief?. This has been on Paiges mind for the past 3 months, wasn’t this the solution?

“Go be a superstar but don’t expect me to wait for you while you figure out what you want to do” Y/n said, her voice sweet. Not even a slight tone of bitterness.

Y/n still wasn’t able to move from her spot on the kitchen counter. Tears were streaming down her face, and before a sob sound could come, she hung up the phone. All Y/n knew was Paige, but know she didn’t even know that.

She had literally left her clueless, without her lifeline. now flatline.

✩

- 5 MONTHS LATER -

Paige stood there, watching from her afar.

“That’s her?” a croatian accent asked. She felt Nika sit beside her. “Yeah” Paige answered still in awe of her.

“She’s really pretty” Nika said. Paige nodded agreeing with her. She was wearing a flowy white short summer dress with cowboy boots.

It was Drews birthday today, and as the team had some off time, Drew invited them to his barbecue party. And the weekend before his birthday, he ran into Y/n. Of course the boy was oblivious to the breakup and while he asked still asked Paige for Y/n, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that they broke up.

So when Drew begged Y/n to come to his birthday party, Y/n didn’t know what else to say but yes. He could literally get whatever he wanted out of everyone.

At first, Y/n debated if she should just call Paiges stepmom and cancel, or she should just go and pray that Paige couldn’t make it.

Well, Paige had come. And so did the rest of the huskies. When Y/n saw them, she sighed. Although she was friends with Azzi, she didn’t know the rest of them, but by the look on their faces when she came in, she knew that Paige had told them her history.

Azzi, being the sweetheart she is, excitedly came running to Y/n and hugging her tight. The whole party they caught up with each other, with Azzi telling her about Uconn and Y/n telling her about studying abroad. For the past 30 minutes they’ve been talking, not once have either of them mentioned Paige.

Y/n turned, meeting Paiges eyes. The two of them made eye contact with each other again. Y/n then heard Azzi laughed, when she snapped her head to look at her friend. She saw a small teasing smile on her face. “Don’t even start” Y/n said, glaring at her. She got up and made her way to the other side of the backyard, where there was no Paige in sight.

“Y/n/n” she heard a child scream. Drew was suddenly hugging her legs. “Hi Drewsky” she laughed, beginning to tickle him. She felt the boy starting to laugh, and start to kick her hands away, while Paige and her were together, Drew became a big part in their relationship. Paiges parents often made Paige babysit Drew, and Y/n just tagged along. Through that time, Drew and Y/n became close, Y/n considered him as a baby brother. She would miss him.

“Paigeyy help me” Drew screamed laughing. Y/n became stiff, the hair behind her neck stood. She could feel her ex behind her as she let the little boy go and stand up.

Paige and Y/n stared at one another. Paige was thankful her teammates weren’t around right now, they would be on her ass all day after this.

“Hi” Y/n whispered, looking away from her and to the ground.

“Hey” Paige said back. “How’ve you been-“

“Paige please no small talk, what do you want?” Y/n cut her off. This was already awkward enough, no need to make it even more.

“Uh” Paige stuttered, a sigh coming after. “I missed you” Paige admitted. Y/n’s blood boiled, now she missed me?

Paige could sense Y/n anger, she placed a hand on Y/n elbow, tugging her from leaving. “Please just wait” Paige pleaded “I’m sorry, i just didn’t know what to do i kept having all of this kind of feelings and i know i was busy but i swear just one more chance-“

“Paige” y/n cut her off

“- and i’ll promise i’ll try harder-“ paige continued

“-stop-“ she tried to stop her

“please just give me one more chance”

“-okay” she agreed. Paiges eyes went wide, she didn’t think she would get her to agree that easy.

“I only needed you to apologize P, i only want you to make some time for me thats all. And if were really trying this again you have to be sure you want this because i don’t know if i can handle loosing you again” She said still looking at the ground.

Paiges heart dropped hearing her voice break. Although she knew how Y/n felt, Paige had been nothing but moody,grumpy and miserable these past few months. Seeing Y/n today, brought her hope that she had a second shot with her.

Y/n slowly picked up her head, and looked up at Paige. Paige was jaw dropping hot, and she knew that, her head couldn’t get any bigger by her ego.

Paige reached a hand towards her waist, pulling Y/n towards her. When she did, she slowly dropped a sweet kiss on her girlfriends lips, when she pulled away, her forehead dropped to Y/n’s.

She felt like she could finally breathe, her chest no longer hurt. She had her lifeline back.

✩

#Spotify #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers imagine #huskies #uconn #nika muhl #azzi fudd #aaliyah edwards #paige bueckers headcannons #wnba #lesbian

[kaleldobrev]

Hauled Up

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam recruits you to try and convince Dean to stop hauling up in his room

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Cursing (1x), Mutual pining & Fluff

Authors Note: Takes place in season 14 | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

As you were watching some Netflix, there was a hefty knock on your bedroom door. You had hoped that it was Dean who was knocking as you hadn't seen him in pretty much a few weeks since he had gotten back, but you knew that was a long shot. "Come in!" You called out, pausing the program that you were watching.

About two seconds later, Sam appeared, and he looked insanely drained and tired; something that's been pretty much normal for him over the last few weeks. Between helping the hunters who had come from the Apocalypse World and trying to find any information on where Dean/Michael could have been. Thankfully with Dean back, the only thing really draining him now was making sure the "newbies" knew how to handle certain cases on their own or through team-ups.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?" Sam asked, his voice sounding a little hesitant.

"Sure, what is it?" You asked. It could be a numerous amount of things as while Dean was gone, you had became Sam's right hand, assisting him with the other hunters. You were either helping to find cases, going on team-ups, cooking giant meals for everyone that could last days, or bandaging people up when they came back from a hunt.

"I need you to try and get Dean out from his room. He's been hauled up there for weeks. It's not good for him," Sam said, sighing a little.

"I think he just wants to be alone Sam. I mean, I don't really blame him. He was gone for weeks, and then when he came back, he came back to a place full of people that he doesn't know, not just us," you stated. You couldn't imagine what Dean went through while Michael was possessing him doing God Know's What. As much as you didn't mind having the other hunter's here, you knew that with these other hunters here, Dean couldn't really be himself even if he wanted to be. "Why can't you try and get him out?"

"I think you're the only person that might be able to," Sam stated.

"And why do you think I'd be able to convince him?" You questioned, raising a brow.

Sam looked at you, giving you one of those 'you know exactly why' look. It wasn't a secret that you and Dean had feelings for each other, and have had these feelings for each other for the past couple of years. It was one of those things that even though neither one of you had directly said to each other that you have these feelings; it was kind of a known fact how the two of you felt about each other.

You sighed. "I can try."

Walking into the kitchen, you had decided that one of the things that you were going to do in order to try and convince Dean to come out of his room was bring apple pie as a kind of offering to him.

As you gathered the ingredients, one of the hunters from the Apocalypse World walked into the kitchen with a big smile on their face. "You making apple pie Y/N?" He asked, rubbing his hands together.

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm making a pie for Dean," you said, starting to chop up the apples.

The man sat down at the counter, and even though you didn't directly look up at him, you could have sworn that he rolled his eyes at your response. As much as you had wanted to comment, you decided to ignore it. "Anything that I can help you with?" You asked.

"Hoping you can make this pie for me instead of Dean," he stated. Instead of the eyeroll like he had done before it was a wink; and it took all you could not to roll your own eyes.

"I remember you saying how much you hated apple pie," you stated, putting the apples into a bowl of cinnamon sugar.

"But I've never had your apple pie Sweetheart," he said, winking again.

This time, you had decided to say something, as you did not like when someone other than Dean had called you Sweetheart. "It's Y/N, not Sweetheart."

"It's just a nickname Y/N," he said. "Lighten up."

Before you could comment any further, you heard someone clear their throat in the doorway; and when the two of you looked up, looking into that direction, it was Sam with a clipboard in his hand. "Jones, shouldn't you be getting ready for your wendigo hunt with Xander?"

Jones looked at Sam for a moment, before looking at you. "Can't wait to eat this when I get back," he winked, getting up from his spot at the counter and making his way out of the kitchen.

As soon as Jones was out of the earshot, Sam sat down on the same stool that Jones was sitting at a few seconds before. "I could have handled that myself you know," you stated, giving the piecrust a gentle coating of butter to make sure that it didn't completely burn in the oven.

"I know, I'm sorry," Sam said, slightly sighing. "Gonna try bribery?" He asked, pointing to the pie.

"I call it motivation," you shrugged.

With the pie finally done, you placed it onto a tray along with two forks and a pint of vanilla ice cream. You doubted you'd be able to convince Dean to come out of his room, but maybe you can convince him to at least share some of the apple pie that you had made for him with you so he could at least have some kind of social interaction.

Lifting up the tray, you took a deep breath and made your way out of the kitchen, heading to Dean's room.

Upon coming up to his door, it was shut like it has been the last several weeks, the sounds of his television blasting as he watched a horror movie (which sounded remotely like the All Saint's Day series to you, as you thought you could vaguely hear Hatchet Man's voice).

Knocking on the door, you heard Dean sigh loudly and pause the television. "Fuck off," he said, his voice annoyed.

"I don't really want to eat this apple pie by myself," you said, your voice a little low.

You heard Dean get up from his bed, slightly sighing. A few seconds later, his door opened and he looked down at you as you held the tray in your hands. "Sam put you up to this?" He asked.

"He asked me to try and convince you to come out of your room. But, I know I wouldn't be able to convince you, so, I decided to make some apple pie for us to share together instead," you smiled.

Dean eyed you and the pie for a moment before stepping to the side. "I'm watching All Saint's Day two," he said.

"Perfect," you said, stepping inside his room.

"Thanks for trying not to convince me," Dean said, between bites. "You're the only one I feel like gets it." He knew that you were the only person to get it, as you and him always seemed to be on similar wavelengths.

"I might not necessarily know what you went through but...I just know for me, if I came back to a Bunker full of strangers, I'd want to haul up in my room too," you said, wiping your mouth.

"You outdid yourself this time with the pie," he commented.

"It's how I always make it," you said.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know tastes...better than usual."

"Probably because you haven't had it in a while," you stated.

"Probably," he agreed.

"I hope you enjoyed your pie," you smiled, grabbing the tray; no more pie or ice cream in sight.

"I did, thanks," Dean said, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched you make your way to his bedroom door. "You didn't have to make it for me by the way. I know you've been busy with all the other hunters."

"Dean, I wanted to," you began, walking back to the bed where he was and placed the tray of empty dishes next to him. "Besides, I'll never be too busy for you," you stated, taking his hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You mean a lot to me Dean, you know that," you added.

The feeling of your hand in his was one that he longed for these past couple of weeks, but he didn't necessarily know how to ask for it. "You mean a lot to me too," he stated. More than you'll ever realize, he wanted to add. He took your other hand in his as he stood up from his spot on the bed gently looking down at you.

"Want to help me with the dishes and then we can come back in here and do something?" You asked him. "We can either watch something or just go to sleep; up to you," you softly smiled.

"I'd like for us to take a drive together. Feel like Baby's been neglected these past few months I've been away," he grinned; a brief chuckle leaving his lips.

"I'd like that," you smiled.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @crystal555 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @madzzz0797 @livingordeadwhoknows @writinginfear @Roskar16 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @taraswifes @zepskies @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @frozenhuntress67 @coldspoons @androah If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

#Dean Winchester x you #Dean Winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #reader insert #female reader

[thot-of-khonshu]

eyes on me (Joel Miller x reader)

Summary: Joel expresses himself through his eyes and his hands. He was always the strong and silent type.

Mature 18+, explicit smut.

A/N: This is just a little something because like all of us, this man has taken over me. Not beta’d.

He was always the strong and silent type.

Even before the outbreak. Even before the demanded silence to save your lives when exploring new territory.

He’d grunt if he didn’t like something. He’d have a smart ass retort for something he did like. For someone who used so much sarcasm, Joel was a man who was straightforward with what he wanted.

Sarah and Tommy did most of the talking for him.

And when they were gone, filling their gaping cracks felt futile.

The two of you didn’t even attempt to fill the silence. A comfortable quiet that only two people with your intimacy could understand.

With so much between you, some things were better left unsaid.

He did, however, manage to express everything through his eyes. All the pain, all of the longing for the past, everything held back and wanting more all at the same time.

Those damn brown eyes.

“Eyes on me.” He’d say.

When he wanted you to focus on him instead of the growing clicks inching your way, steadying your heartbeat as you loaded your gun.

Eyes on me.

During negotiations with FEDRA where he could outsmart these idiots that sold their body to the corrupt government. Giving you more ration cards to support yourselves than you needed.

Eyes on me.

When the knife in your stomach pierced and burned. When he’d wrap you in your arms to Cary you back to the QZ with softness the smugglers that just got a bullet put into their brains couldn’t imagine.

Eyes on me.

When the pain was unbearable as he washed you with a warm cloth. A gentle cadence you hadn’t heard from him in years, his hands so gentle because he was so afraid you’d break.

Eyes on me.

When he knew you wouldn’t break. When you could take all he gave you. Riding on top of him as he fucked into you mercilessly. His large cock sliding into your frame as he exited you with more of your wetness. From behind as he grabbed your ass so hard it was as if he thought you’d vanish.

The thing about Joel is that even though he wasn’t vocal, he wanted you to be. He wanted to make sure you were still there. That there was something of a semblance from his old life.

If all you heard was the skin slapping between you, he’d grab at your hair tighter, reach out for your nipple in that specific spot you like or even from behind slide a finger into your tight ring. All to hear your sweet sounds.

Eyes on me.

Between your legs, panting and wanting salvation through this world from your slick heat. Fingers slowly breaching you and coaxing you into orgasm.

It was you and him, no matter what.

Through the silence. Through the loss.

Through those damn brown eyes.

#joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal x y/n #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #joel miller fanfiction

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

Not Leaving You

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Prompt - "You need to leave."

Requested - anon

The Doctor never said more about his past than he had to. Most of the people who travelled with him never asked too many questions, too caught up in the life that came with knowing the Doctor to ask about who he really was. When they did ask he gave them just enough to stop asking. 

He didn’t know what was different about you. When you asked he found he didn’t mind sharing a part of himself with you, a part of himself that nobody else knew. He couldn’t say for sure why because it ached his hearts terribly to talk about a life long gone but it was a little bit easier with you at his side.

You were a curious thing too, he’d lost count of how many times he’d lost you, you wandering off, too distracted by something or other and ready with a million and one questions by the time the Doctor finally did find you.

He knew sooner or later you’d be curious about him too, once you found out he had two hearts that had taken up about a week’s worth of conversation, you asking questions about Time Lords and what else was different about them, not knowing that there were no more Time Lords out there and missing the sad look that the Doctor forced off his face.

He had taken you to a planet he had found many, many years ago, one that made his chest feel warm and a smile pull on his face as you repeated the name after him, the word Zirafell sounding as beautiful as the planet itself coming from your lips. He had never shown it to anyone before but there was something so extraordinarily different about you that he wanted to share all his hiding spots and secrets with you.

The two of you were sitting in the field, the TARDIS parked not too far away. The grass was littered with little pink and blue flowers and a lilac lake glistened under the two suns in front of you.

“Where are you from anyway?” You asked softly, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between you causing the Doctor to look at you in surprise but you kept your gaze on the lake.

“Me? Oh nowhere really.” The Doctor answered after a few beats of silence, watching as a frown pulled at your face.

“Everyone’s from somewhere.” You told him, finally turning to face him and seeing the discomfort on his face. You wondered whether to push it but before you could decide the Doctor spoke again.

“Not me. Not anymore.” The Doctor sighed and you stayed silent for a moment, just looking at him.

His gaze was on something just passed your shoulder, refusing to look at you as his mind played memories from long before you could even imagine. You wanted to know what he was thinking about though, wanted to know what put that sort of look on a person's face. 

“You could always go back home.” You told him, keeping your voice soft.

The Doctor looked back at you, a sad smile spreading across his face. You hadn’t seen that smile in a while, of course you’d seen it plenty when you’d first met him. A sad man sitting alone looking like his whole world had fallen apart around him and there was nothing he could do about it.

It took some time but eventually he told you about the people he’d lost and how travelling with him was dangerous. He had told you he’d take you home, that he’d understand if you wanted to leave but you just wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug, smiling into his chest when he gripped you tight.

“Not even I can do that.” The Doctor laughed softly, no amusement in it as he turned to look out at the lake. He never wanted to talk about it, about all that pain and suffering, about what he had done and yet sat here with you, he wanted you to know that sad, angry, lonely part of him. 

“My home’s long gone, Y/N.” The Doctor said after a long silence where you had figured he wasn’t going to share anything with you. “It was a beautiful place, you’d have loved it. I’d love to have shown you. The Time Lords, my people, the universe was so much brighter with them in it. People would cheer when they saw one and now, now they’re gone, my planet’s gone.”

“What happened to it?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper as you looked at him, his eyes glazed over. 

“There was a war.” He told you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “It doesn’t matter, but nobody won that day. Nobody ever really wins I suppose. Everyone died. Everyone but me.”

When you first saw the Doctor, before you knew who he was, you just referred to him as the sad man. Watching him now you couldn’t think of a better way to describe him, the sad man, the sad man who was all alone in the universe, the sad man who had lived through the destruction of his whole planet, his whole race.

The sad man with a magical box who spent his life bringing hope everywhere he went.

“The last of the Time Lords.” You murmured, remembering what a woman from several months back had hissed to him, at the time the Doctor brushed it off when you asked questions, now you knew why. 

“The last of the Time Lords.” The Doctor agreed just as quietly and neither of you said anything else, there was nothing left to say so you rested your head on his shoulder, his coming to rest on top of yours as the two of you stared ahead at the lilac water.

From that day onwards you and the Doctor were closer than ever, he shared more of his life with you and you found yourself falling a little bit more for the man as each day passed. It was a dangerous thing to do, falling in love with the Doctor and yet you let yourself fall, not bothering to question if he would catch you but enjoying the fall while it lasted.

You felt closer with the Doctor than you had with anyone you had known back home, not a single day went by where you regretted leaving, regretted choosing the Doctor over your old life. You knew you’d make the same choice over and over again. You could never give the Doctor up.

Months passed since that day, months where you and the Doctor would spend your nights floating through the galaxy, legs hanging over the TARDIS door as the Doctor told you about the different stars and planets that surrounded you with such fondness, months were he took your hand in yours and you couldn’t help but smile, savouring the feeling of his thumb running softly across the back of your hand as he pulled you along, tugging you back to him when you went to wander off. Months were you and the Doctor traded secrets in the quiet of the night, things that you’d never have dreamed of sharing with anyone else and yet knowing the whispered words were safe with each other.

“You’ll love this one, Y/N/N!” The Doctor told you with an excited grin on his face, hurrying you to put your coat on causing you to laugh before he finally grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the TARDIS, pausing long enough to lock the box before the two of you were off.

“Welcome to Thucruiruta.” The Doctor beamed at you and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you as you finally looked around.

The planet was beautiful, the sky was golden and all sorts of creatures were moving around you, so many things demanded your attention and the thing that won it was the Doctor squeezing your hand.

“It’s beautiful, Doctor.” You breathed out, watching as the Doctor’s grin softened and you didn’t even try and stop yourself from smiling back, leaning into him before letting him lead the way.

The Doctor was eager to show you everything, used to your curiosity and the hundreds of questions you came up with, more than happy to show off and answer them, making his way through the stands and insisting you try all the different foods on display. 

It was hard to imagine such a perfect day taking a turn but you had also gotten used to trouble following the Doctor by now, so when an explosion sounded not too far in the distance you immediately turned to the Doctor, waiting for him to do something.

It didn’t take him more than a second to grab your hand, pulling you into the heart of the danger and you went along with him willingly. You knew you always would, you never gave it a second thought, you knew that you would always follow the Doctor no matter where he went.

You gasped as you took in the scene, people were scattered all over the floor, some crying out and others not moving at all. You gripped the Doctor’s hand in yours and he squeezed back before moving further into the chaos, looking around for some clue as to what had happened.

There was a child on the floor, a deep cut in their green skin as blue blood poured from it. You pulled your hand from the Doctor’s and made your way to the child’s side as the Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out to try and find what had caused the explosion. 

“You alright?” You asked softly, pulling your jacket off and using a sharp bit of rubble to rip the end of your shirt in lieu of a bandage. 

“Hurts.” The kid whimpered and you gave her an encouraging smile, warning her it might sting as you tied the torn material around her arm as tightly as you could.

“Good job, that’ll be good until we can get you to your family.” You told her standing up and holding a hand out for her, pulling her up by her uninjured arm and looking around. “Where was your family?”

You watched as she pointed the way you had come from, away from where the explosion was and you glanced over your shoulder to see the Doctor glaring down at the sonic, a furious expression you couldn’t ever remember seeing on his face that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come on then, let’s see if we can find them.” You said, pulling your gaze from the Doctor and forcing the uneasy feeling you suddenly felt in the pit of your stomach away, leading the young girl away from the scene.

Even in the sea of screams and shouts for friends and family you managed to find the young girl's family quite easily, her mum falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around her daughter, mindful of her arm after she winced. 

You stayed long enough for the family to thank you tearfully and the girl to hug you before you pushed your way through the crowd and looked around for the Doctor, frowning when you couldn’t see him.

You made your way further into where the explosion had gone off, gasping when something sharp dug into your arm, looking to your left to see a tall figure beside you, sharp teeth visible as the thing grinned down at you and pushed you forward, dragging you alongside it and not even pausing as you fought back against it.

There was a slimy sort of wet texture to the creature and you couldn’t stop yourself from wincing as it’s nails drew blood from you, the thing snarling the whole time until it pushed you onto the floor and you were staring at sharper nails and blue feet, looking up to see more than a dozen of the things standing together.

“Let her go.” The Doctor’s voice sent a wave of relief through you and your head snapped around to look at him. “Now.”

The Doctor’s voice was cold, so devoid of any emotion that it scared you. The creatures, however, didn’t seem at all phased by him and instead laughed at the Doctor.

“The Doctor always was too fond of the humans.” One of the creatures laughed, sending a wave of spit flying from his mouth. “Too bad he can never save his precious little pets.”

That seemed to hit a nerve with the Doctor and you had heard the stories of his past companions, of how much danger they had been put in simply by being with him. You knew it was scarred on his two hearts, every loss, every defeat, every life lost, every life he blamed himself for.

“The Doctor’s not good at saving anybody.” Another one called, amusement clear in its voice, “Poor little Doctor, all alone, no Time Lords around anymore.”

The creatures all laughed together and you winced as you watched fury take over the Doctor. It seemed these creatures had history with the Doctor, at the very least they knew exactly what buttons to press to tear him apart.

The Doctor looked different, he didn’t look like the Doctor you had seen every day, he looked like a whole different person. Cold fury in his eyes, mouth set in a thin line and his knuckles bone white from the grip he had on the sonic.

“You will let her go and you will leave this planet.” The Doctor told them, voice low and commanding the attention of everyone.

You could only stare at him, fear in your eyes, not sure who you were more afraid of in that moment. Usually you could read the Doctor easily, always seeming to know what his next step was but right then, in that moment you didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Or what, Doctor?” One of them spat but you didn’t bother looking behind at them, keeping your gaze on the Doctor. “The last time we met you were a coward, what’s changed?”

“What’s changed?” He shot back, taking a step forward and you felt your breath catch in your throat at his tone. “What’s changed? The last time I showed you mercy. That was a mistake. I won’t make the same one twice. Now leave.”

“Or what?” It asked again, tone hard as the creatures refused to move.

“Or I’ll burn this entire planet with you on it.” The Doctor said without hesitation and your eyes widened, staring at him in shock.

“You wouldn’t, the Doctor wouldn’t harm innocents, not in the name of revenge.” One of them laughed but it sounded nervous, like it didn’t believe its own words and looking at the fury on the Doctor’s face you had to agree with it.

“Do you really want to test that theory?” The Doctor asked, the silence stretching as the creatures all looked at each other. “All I have to do is press this button and you’ll be dead before you realise it.”

The Doctor held the sonic up and you shook your head, not that he was looking at you but you couldn’t believe him. He wasn’t bluffing, he wasn’t improvising whilst he came up with a plan to deal with this without harming anybody. He was being deadly serious.

You were terrified of the man before you. He wasn’t the Doctor, not the Doctor you knew anyway.

“Liar!” A creature yelled and the Doctor gave it an unimpressed look before going to press the button but you stood up before he could.

“Don’t!” You shouted, reaching a hand out like one would around a scared animal, locking eyes with the Doctor for the first time since you’d been pushed onto the floor. “Don’t.”

“Y/N, you don’t know what these are.” The Doctor told you, his thumb hovering dangerously close to the button on the sonic. 

“I don’t care. This isn’t you, you’re the Doctor! People look to you for hope, you’re not a murderer, don’t do this! Don’t become them.” You pleaded with him but his face was still set with cold fury and you feared there was no changing his mind.

“Get to the TARDIS and don’t look back.” He instructed and you immediately shook your head.

“No.” You told him. “No, I’m not letting you do this. There are millions of innocent people on this planet and you will not destroy them for whatever grudge you’re holding.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you need to leave. Now get on the TARDIS, Y/N!” The Doctor snapped and you felt tears sting your eyes but held your ground.

“No. If you’re going to burn this planet you’ll do it with me on it.” You said, voice shaking as tears made their way over your eyes, hating that you didn’t know what the Doctor was going to do.

“Get on the TARDIS.” The Doctor commanded through gritted teeth but you shook your head again.

“I already told you I’m not leaving.” You told him, blinking away the tears as they carried on running down your face.

The Doctor held your gaze, the small part of him that wasn’t consumed with anger and hatred felt guilt and hurt as you looked at him like you were terrified, like he was the monster instead of the creatures behind you. 

“Leave.” He spat out, not taking his gaze of you as he addressed the creatures. “Get off this planet and if I ever see you again I won’t show a shred of mercy.”

The creatures wasted no time scurrying away, hurrying over to their ships and taking off just as quickly, leaving you and the Doctor staring at each other. Just as the Doctor opened his mouth, you cut him off.

“Take me home.” You told him, suddenly feeling drained.

“Y/N,” he sighed but you just shook your head at him, moving past him and making your way back towards where the TARDIS was parked, using your key to unlock the box and letting yourself in.

The Doctor sighed to himself, rubbing a hand across his face before pocketing the sonic and following after you, desperately trying to think how he could salvage this. He hadn’t wanted to let himself fall for you but over the year and the months you’d spent at each other’s side he couldn’t help it.

Now he was losing you because he had held onto a grudge from so many years back.

The anger had taken over him to the point he couldn’t control himself but you could, you stopped him even when he didn’t think he could be stopped.

When he walked into the TARDIS you were sitting in one of the chairs, looking away from him as he quietly worked on setting a course for Earth, hoping you would change your mind before you got there.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, watching you closely. He could tell you were listening but you didn’t say anything. 

“Those creatures, Y/N…” He trailed off and you finally looked over at him, seeing him take a deep breath before he spoke again. “Those creatures are called Eelvo’s. I met them a long time ago, long before I had this face. I lost somebody because of them and I let them go.”

“You don’t kill people.” You told him, your voice quiet but firm and the Doctor sighed as he came and sat next to you. 

“I have bad days, Y/N. Days where I am not a good man.” The Doctor told you, ashamed of himself, ashamed that you had seen him like that. He had never wanted that.

“Doctor, today I was more scared of you than any of those other things.” You said softly, glancing at the Doctor as he shut his eyes and swallowed thickly around a lump in his throat, fighting back tears.

The last thing he had ever wanted was for you to be scared of him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what happened, seeing them again after so long, seeing the destruction they were still causing, the pain and lives they were still taking…” The Doctor trailed off, a single tear making its way down his cheek.

You sighed softly, reaching over to take his hand in yours and giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You were still unsure, still hadn’t liked seeing the Doctor so furious but he was still the Doctor, he was your Doctor again and seeing him in pain was the last thing you wanted.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N, I never wanted you to hate me.” He whispered, his voice breaking around the words and you felt your heart break with them.

“I don’t hate you, Doctor.” You told him honestly, “I’ve never seen you like that and I didn’t like it but I don’t hate you. I’m not sure I could ever hate you.”

The Doctor smiled over at you sadly and you returned it, squeezing his hand again.

“I’ll take you home.” He whispered and you frowned, you had asked him to take you home but the thought of actually leaving the Doctor behind sent an ache through you.

“How about Zirafell instead?” You asked him, a small smile pulling at your lips as he looked over at you in surprise. 

“You sure?” He asked, a hopeful note in his voice and you nodded, watching as his shoulders lost the tension in them and he let out a small breath, nodding himself before standing up and moving around the console to change the course, hoping that the two of you would be alright. 

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[heartpascal]

late spring . . .

▹ — joel miller x f!reader

▹ — summary: you and joel didn’t exactly see eye to eye, but things have started to change, at least for you. [2.2K words]

▹ — a/n: ok so this is like. one of the first joel things i’ve ever written!!! pls go easy on me <3 i also never really write one shots so this is pretty new to me! i do also plan to take requests so if you have one, feel free to do so!

▹ — warnings: blood, injury (reader), mention of alcohol (to clean wounds), r + joel hated each other (kinda. not really), haters to luverrrrs except not much actually happens except for them being soft

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Remembering the old world is not something you enjoyed doing. In fact, you did your damned best to completely avoid it; tuning out of any conversations involving it, averting your eyes when people traded rare items belonging to it, even holding your breath when your nose caught something nostalgic. It was the reason why you had avoided any semblance of feeling for the first eighteen years of the new world.

That all changed when a certain Joel Miller entered your life, of course. He was closed off, distant, even rude toward you. That was to start with, anyway, before the softened features and the slightest turn of the corner of his mouth.

He had been everything you tried to be, with much stronger willpower. It took Joel much longer to warm up to you, than it did for you to him. But how could you help yourself? Quiet nights punctuated with his annoying snores, the way his brow lifted when certain music played through the radio, the tone of voice he used when speaking to his brother… it revealed something you never expected: humanity.

At first, you hated it.

Which definitely showed, your snarky comments towards Joel making his face scrunch up in annoyance. The subtle jabs about him and his rash behaviour made him glare in your direction. There were times where the only thing stopping him from kicking you out, was Tess.

But much like your harsh expression and nasty comments, the heart inside your chest softened over time. The sheets of ice that had kept it unmoving for years melted away, a warmth that you could only imagine was Joel became ever present.

Your behaviour towards him changed, and instead of providing him with a rude remark, you smiled and thanked him when he passed you what you needed. When he asked you to fix the radio, you did it with no other prompting. The scowl that used to face him every day was gone, replaced by that stupidly soft expression.

Joel hated it. He would take your critical comments and frustrated expression over… this, any day. There was some part of him that enjoyed seeing your softened eyes, that got warm when your lips turned upwards, and he couldn’t understand why.

Ever since the day he met you, something about you just aggravated him. And when you’d gone out of your way to be rude towards him? Well that was all the excuse he’d needed to throw the same treatment back in your face. He’d started to gain satisfaction when you would roll your eyes at his smart comments. But now, there was the slightest tilt to your lips when you’d roll your eyes.

When he’d asked you to fix the radio, begrudgingly, he’d add — he was so tempted to try and do it himself, but as Tess reminded him, they couldn’t afford to lose such a vital piece of equipment — you had nodded at him, and made a start. Unscrewing the screws that held it together, then pulling apart the casing to see inside, you put your full concentration on the task at hand.

Joel didn’t get it, couldn’t. Usually you’d be screwing with him, mocking him for his inability to do it himself, but you just sat and worked away, barely noticing his continued presence.

Your shoulders slumped, and Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “What?” He asked.

“I need some new parts,” you sighed out, looking at the parts inside the radio which had decayed past saving. You knew this day was coming — had seen the rotting insides of the machine the last time you had to fix it. You knew where to get the parts, you just weren’t happy with it. You’d hoped you would have enough time to find somebody else — anybody else. “I’ll be back.” You told him, pushing away from the partially disassembled radio.

“Y’need me to go?” Joel asked, though he was unsure what prompted him to do so.

“Nah, it’s fine.” you replied, smiling tightly towards him and shrugging on your jacket, before turning to the door and heading out.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Selfishly, you really regretted not letting Joel go.

Like, really regretted it. Putting weight on your right leg made you want to keel over, but you limped all the way up to the apartment you shared with Joel and Tess. Your face was aching, throbbing and still dripping with blood, though a lot of it had begun to dry, crusting over your skin.

“Ah, shit.” You huffed, the door locked when you tried to open it. You really should’ve let Joel go — because you didn’t have your key in the pocket of your jacket like you thought you had. With an annoyed sigh, you. started banging the side of your fist against the door, wincing when your skin pulled tight on your split knuckles. “For fuck’s sake— Joel!” You yelled, continuing your assault on the decaying wooden door.

“What?” snapped Joel, the second he opened it.

You ignored him, shoving your way past him with much difficulty and limping into the apartment, dropping down on the chair in front of the radio that remained exactly the way you left it.

He slammed the door shut, rolling his eyes and finding the sigh he was about to release got stuck in his throat. His eyes scanned your entire body, the way you now favoured your left leg, and cradled the hand you’d used to knock with your other one. Finally, Joel looked at your face, his brow settled long down over his eyes as he saw the way your face had swelled up, the blood that was still wet out of your nose, and the dried red that surrounded a cut on your forehead.

“Shit, what happened?” Joel questioned, approaching you quickly and pulling you up to face him with his hand on your jaw.

“Fuckin’—” you winced as he tilted your head up to look at the damage to your nose, “Prick with the parts for the radio. Tried to pull a fast one on me, had his guys jump me.”

Joel stepped away to grab the alcohol resting on the counter on the opposite side of the room, grabbing a the rag that was settled beside it for situations just like this one. When he turned back around, you held your hand out triumphantly, small silver parts rolling around your palm.

“Didn’t work,” you said, victoriously.

He couldn’t help but huff out a surprised laugh, which shocked you almost as much as it did him. Shaking his head, he kneeled in front of you, pouring a bit of the alcohol onto the red rag, before he held it up to your face and started cleaning the slice on your forehead.

“‘Course it didn’t,” Joel muttered in the quiet between you both, “What’s the guy’s name?” He didn’t look in your eyes as he asked, focused on your wounds, but he could feel the intense gaze you kept on his face as he worked.

“Benny.” You told him, eyes flickering across the wrinkles that had steadily been growing deeper over the time you’ve known him.

“That guy?” Joel inquired, voice incredulous. His eyebrows raised, and he finally looked you in the face. “Why didn’t you ask me to come with you? You know Benny’s got a reputation.”

“So have you, Joel,” you reminded him, “Besides, I handled it, didn’t I?” You tilted your head at him, as if daring him to refute that fact.

“Yeah, and look at where that handling has gotten you!” replied Joel, a scowl coming back to his features at how you didn’t understand he was just trying to protect you, as much as you annoyed him.

“I am looking! I’m home, isn’t that all that matters?” you retorted, a scowl crossing your face to match the one on Joel’s own. Your annoyance with him increased, and you turned to face the radio to begin working.

Your knuckles bled more as you stretched your hands, wincing before you gathered the parts you’d been through hell to get in a line by the radio. Just as you were about to reach in and start removing the broken parts inside the machine, Joel snatched your hands back, muttering under his breath about how annoying you were as he cleaned the torn skin over the back of your hand.

“These are bad,” he commented, eyes flicking up to survey your expression before returning to your hand, “How many were there?”

“Three, four,” you said, cringing as he poured some more alcohol onto the cloth and dabbed it against your knuckles. “Not enough to beat me.” You added on with a smile.

“What happened to your leg?”

“Dislocated knee.”

He nodded, a small frown on his face. He knew that kind of pain, and he knew it wasn’t pleasant. The fact you’d made it all the way back here on that was honestly pretty impressive. Clearly, from the way you found it difficult to get it into a somewhat comfortable position, it wasn’t without consequences. You’d likely aggravated it by using it so much after the tendons and ligaments were likely damaged.

“I would’ve come with you.” Joel said, still staring at your hand which he held within his despite the fact there was nothing left to clean off or disinfect.

You swallowed harshly at his words, feeling suddenly nervous in his presence. He’d never said something to you so… softly. Without any of the usual bite his words retained.

“I know,” you replied, softer, eyes falling to your hand against his. “You’re a good man like that.”

“Nothing good about me.”

“This seems pretty good to me.” You said, the hand that had gone completely still and limp whilst he was cleaning now moving to squeeze his hand. It hurt, pulling the skin taut where it was already torn, but it felt worth it to you.

His eyes moved to your face, eyebrows creased in the middle as he stared in confusion at you. Where were your harsh words? Your critical remarks? The glare you had always shown him? He knew something had changed over the past few weeks, but he had no idea what. Maybe he didn’t hate these soft looks and words as much as he thought.

Joel pulled away, and you put your hands back to the radio on the counter, finally working on it once more. You were silent as you removed the scrapped parts and added the newer ones in, but he could practically hear the gears turning in your head.

He stayed in the room while you finished working, which wasn’t totally unusual, his eyes following your movements every so often. He perked up when you finally turned the radio back on, and he heard the regular static crackle before the sound of an old station started playing.

With a huff of victory, you screwed the external casing back together and finally tweaked the settings to ensure you’d receive the music sent by Bill and Frank.

It was when you tried to stand that you realised the extent of your knee injury, as you quickly sat back down, muttering, “Fuck.”

Joel was by your side in a second, hand against your shoulder as he crouched by your side. “Worse than you thought?”

“Just a bit, yeah.” You replied, but you could barely move it now without pain. You sucked in a harsh breath, hand going to lean against Joel as you stood up once more, this time putting your weight on your good leg. Once you were upright, Joel stood back up to his full height, hands outstretched like he was expecting you to fall at any moment.

“C’mon,” he sighed, pulling your arm around his shoulder, “You need to rest it, couch or bed?” He asked, though he was already pulling you in the direction of the bedroom, taking the full weight off of your bad leg with every other step.

“You’re being nice to me,” you noted, a hint of amusement in your words. “Thanks, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.” He responded gruffly, eyes softened by the smile he could see on your face from the corner of his eye.

After he’d taken you to lay down, Joel sat in the living room area for the rest of the night, ears tuning into the radio which played general music, nothing from the code for him to worry about. And as he listened to the song play with that familiar slight crackle, he shook his head, doing his best to reject the smile that tried to slide on to his face.

“You look happy.” said Tess, walking in after an extremely long day gathering resources. “Radio fixed?”

“Yeah, all good now.”

#joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #tlou imagine #tlou one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #pedro pascal imagine

[pixiemunsons]

you're so cute (em)

your boyfriend was always so scared of corrupting you, he never considered that that might be just how you wanted it. time to convince him.

a/n: i can't believe how many people liked for your viewing pleasure! i'm so excited to share this one with you. hope u love it<3

smutty smut smut, use of slut and whore during sex, reader thinks she's in control but she's not<3, soft!dom eddie, spit play, semi public bathroom sex, choking, rough sex, the ending's cringe because i didn't know how to end it, reader is a cheerleader and fits into an oversized t-shirt of eddie's but no explicit mention of body size. eddie and reader flirt like he's cheating on her but he's not you'll see what i mean. no use of y/n

cute was very quickly becoming your least favourite word.

you used to love it. when boys told you you looked ‘cute’ at parties, when your friends told you your outfit for school was ‘so cute’, when your mother picked out ‘the cutest’ swimsuits for you to wear on holiday. you revelled in the fuzzy socks and pink wallpapered life you existed in. perfect cheer practice, ill-be-home-for-nine-daddy, milkshakes in a 50s diner with a boy whose hand would never creep any further up your leg than your knee. 

but then eddie munson exploded into your life. and dragged along behind him in a shitty, beat up van came a whole new world.

───

‘sweetheart, y’know i’d love nothing more, but it’s just not your kinda scene. you wouldn’t enjoy yourself.’ eddie felt terrible for cancelling your upstanding saturday night together, but gareth had begged him to go to a gig at the hideout, and whilst he really couldn’t care less about a rush cover - prog rock was definitely not his usual scene - he’d bailed on his friends at least twice this month already, and it was starting to get hard to hide what was going on from everyone.

not that you really wanted to. but cmon; the rebel and the good girl? it was bad enough when grease did it. and if people were to find out, then both of you would end up miserable, at least in hawkins. so it was easier to have spaces devoted to just you; eddie’s bedroom, his van, skull rock when you were feeling particularly risky. once or twice you’d managed to drive to a town an hour or so away, where no one knew either of you, and you’d almost cried the first time you’d held his hand in public.

still, that wasn’t going to stop you from pouting about not being able to go with him. sure, you were more pretty in pink than pink floyd, but anything could be a good time with eddie. you sighed down the phone, fiddling with the edge of your bed sheet as you spoke.

‘you better not meet any girls there,’ you teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

‘i’d never find anyone as cute as you, baby. i gotta go, listen i’ll swing by sunday for fifteen, how’s that? i gotta go, love you sweetheart.’ his voice was crackly on the shitty line, but one word stood out.

cute.

that’s what you were, you supposed. soft. sweet. cute. 

when you had lost your virginity to eddie, he’d been so careful and gentle, making love to you like you’d always imagined. but it had never gone further than that, and you knew he was capable of so much more. you’d heard the locker room talk after gym, seen the black bandana hanging out of his tight jeans, felt the way he held himself back when he was inside you as if you were a precious porcelain doll he was terrified of breaking. well, you thought, maybe it was time you put an end to that. and, well, when’s a better time than the present?

‘yeah, baby, love you too. see you later.’

───

it had taken two hours to get ready, not including the hour you’d had to wait for your parents to get ready and get out of the house, off to some retirement party or other. your mother had waved you goodbye with a twenty, not before checking at least three times that you would be fine on your own overnight. and as soon as they’d left, you began.

and you thought you looked pretty fuckin’ hot.

gone was the cheerleader’s outfit and sensible white tennis shoes. eddie had left enough clothes at your house for you to fashion an outfit, and what he didn’t provide you could put together from some old clothes in the back of your closet. you were wearing your hair down for once, and black eyeliner was smeared around your eyes in a semi-messy, semi-sexy style. eddie’s big, worn black sabbath shirt was tucked into a pair of black denim shorts you’d bought secretly on a shopping trip a few months back. your old tights were ripped in a few places, and you finished the outfit off with your black high top chucks; you’d had to beg your dad for weeks to buy them for you, convincing him finally that they went best with the green of the hawkins high sports teams, and all of the other girls had them.

the drive to the hideout was filled with nervous energy. you tried playing some van halen cassette that eddie had left in your car to gear yourself up, but hot for teacher reallywasn’t calming your nerves. so you simply switched it off and drove the five miles in silence, contemplating what you were about to do. getting in wasn’t the issue; they almost never took id, and even if they did, you weren’t sure the bouncers could even read to work out how old your date of birth made you. 

the bar was absolutely packed out when you arrived, and you weren’t even sure you’d be able to find your boyfriend through the thick crowd of leather jackets and long hair and doc marten boots. you half considered standing on a table, but you wanted to find him before he found you. so you worked your way through the throng, muttering ‘excuse me’s and ‘thank you’s as you navigated the sticky carpet. then, in the corner of your eye, right at the end of the bar, you spotted a figure slouching against the wall, beer in one hand and the other in a jacket pocket. a jacket with dio painted on the back. grin plastered on your face, you walked over to eddie quietly, leaning up to his ear from behind.

‘hey honey, you gonna let me buy you a drink?’

you saw his arm jump at the slight intrusion, beer sloshing over the rim of the cup, but he barely turned his head towards you.

‘nah, i’m cool, i got a girl.’ you cocked an eyebrow, placing a hand on his left shoulder.

‘is that right, babe?’

you heard him huff in annoyance, making to turn around and face you fully.

‘yeah, i fuckin’ do, so- jesus h christ!’

you had never heard eddie as silent as when his eyes scanned your form, lingering over the ripped lines on your thigh and the curve of your ass in particular with his jaw wide open. you hadn’t expected his reaction to be so visceral, and the way his face transformed had you clenching your thighs together. eddie thought you were hot in your cute little everyday outfits, but this?

you were a goddamned wet dream.

‘what brings you here…?’ you quirked an eyebrow up at him questioningly, smoothing down the collar of his t-shirt, and he gulped loudly, seemingly getting the hint.

‘e-eddie.’

you smiled, all teeth, and ran your hand further down his front, hooking it around his waist and stepping forward so you were chest to chest. you could feel his heart beating wildly against your front, and you hoped to god he couldn’t feel yours.

‘cute name for a hot guy,’ you winked. ‘surprised your girlfriend lets you out alone.’ something about the way you said girlfriend, dripping with seduction, seemed to snap something in him, and he leant down so his lips brushed against your ear, his hot breath sending heat directly to your centre.

‘she was gonna come, but she’s got cheerleading practise in the morning.’

‘ah, a cheerleader? she sounds like a good girl.’ he smirked down at you, laughing lightly, and reached a hand to tug your hips against his.

‘i think she likes people to think she is. she dresses in all this cute shit usually, puts a show on. but really, deep down inside? i think she’s a dirty little whore who wants her shit rocking.’

any modicum of dominance you were holding onto fell from your grasp at his words. you had allowed him to slowly back you up against a pillar, and were now standing with his legs between yours and his head tucked into your neck. with a thrill, you realised that people probably thought he was kissing your neck, thought that the hand gripping your waist was feeling you up, and you couldn’t deny it was turning you the fuck on. you clutched onto his waist, keening up against him and whining as he pressed a sharp-teethed kiss onto the delicate skin of your throat, and it took everything you had not to groan aloud.

‘what do you think, honey?’ he asked, and you made dazed eye contact with him. 

‘hmm?’

‘i said,’ eddie growled, ‘what do you think? my girlfriend. she a slut?’ his voice was gravelly, and you could tell you’d almost pushed him to where you wanted him; breaking point. so you pushed your chest forward, and looked him in the eye.

‘i think, eddie,’ your voice sounded husky and sexy under the music booming through the club, and you reached to lace your fingers through his belt loops. ‘that i would let you do whatever you wanted to me, and i’d do it better than your girl can.’

───

you had no idea what to expect of the hideout’s bathroom. you’d never been in a bar like this before. not that it mattered; before you could get a good look at it, your back was pressed against the locked door and eddie’s tongue was down your throat.

‘i can’t fuckin’ believe you turned up here,’ eddie gasped, running his teeth down the column of your throat and letting out a moan when you pulled on a handful of his hair.

‘didn’t think it was your scene, princess.’ he adjusted his grip on your thigh, pulling your feet to link behind his waist, and you could feel a bulge pressing against your core through two layers of denim.

‘wasn’t really the cheerleader’s,’ you breathed out, gripping his leather jacket to pull his mouth back to yours. ‘but ’s definitely mine.’ this time, he was barely kissing you; instead, he was nipping at your lips, stroking his tongue against yours, and you weren’t sure if it was his spit or yours that was dripping down your chin.

‘does this you fuck in bathrooms?’ he asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he grinned down at you. you knew eddie would never do anything you didn’t want, but you also knew this was the beginning of a whole new aspect of your life together.

‘eddie, this version of me wants you to fucking destroy her in this bathroom.’ eddie’s eyes went dark, and he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet them.

‘baby, do you know what you’re asking for?’ you sighed at him, rolling your eyes.

‘i’m so sick of everyone treating me like i’m gonna break! eddie, i can take whatever you got. whatever you wanna give me. i jus- i just want you to fuck me like i know you can. like i know you want to.’

‘in that case, princess,’ he looked downright sinful as he spoke, stroking your face with a ringed hand before slapping it lightly, ‘hold on tight.’

suddenly, you were in the air, and your ass was landing on the cold porcelain sink behind you. you put your hands out to steady yourself, gripping onto the edge, and eddie looked at you approvingly.

‘good, you’re learning quick. open that dirty mouth.’

you opened up, sticking your tongue out a little, and eddie came to settle himself between your open legs. his large hand gripping your chin once more, your eyes fluttered shut, anticipating his next move. you felt something wet touch your tongue, looking up to see a trail of spit connecting your mouth to his.

‘don’t swallow yet,’ he demanded, and you could’ve cum on the spot. he just spat in your fucking mouth and you let him, wanted him to. two thick fingers made their way into your mouth, playing with your mixed saliva, rubbing it into your tongue and pushing themselves down your throat until you were gagging and your eyeliner was streaming.

‘aww baby, are you sure you can take it? choking on my fingers already, my cock’s gonna fuck you completely dumb, ’s that right?’ his voice was taunting, harsh and going straight to your pussy, and it was all you could do to concentrate on nodding your head as you drooled around his fingers.

then they were gone, and you went to chase them out of your mouth, whining at the loss, but a sharp slap against your inner thigh had you mewling and pulling away.

‘gonna have to be a good girl f’me, princess. wanna get down for me?’

you were on your knees before he could push you down, yanking his pants down and taking his boxers with them. you weren’t even gonna pretend to tease, no kitten kicks or soft kisses to the tip. instead, you spat right on the head, just like eddie’d spat on your tongue not two minutes earlier, and took his unbelievably hard dick as far as you could.

‘jesus fuckin’-, sweetheart, are you okay?’ eddie looked almost concerned, and he went to card a hand through your hair reassuringly. instead, you caught it halfway and slowly, nervously, traced it down your face, past where you were connected, and down to the swell of your neck. you placed his hand there, looking hopefully up at him, and he took the hint and squeezed.

‘o-oh, honey, is that- you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me, it’s buried in there, holy sh-‘ eddie could feel his cock moving through the skin of your throat, feel it in his hand how you swallowed around the thickness of him, how your muscles contracted and tried to push him out.

‘think this face was made for fuckin’, baby, what’d’you think?’ you moaned around his length, pushing yourself down on it even further, and you could hear him breathe in sharply above you.

‘christ, honey, i need to get out. i wanna fuck you, need to feel how wet that pussy is.’ eddie grabbed your hair and pulled you back to your feet, kissing your slick mouth and revelling in the way you pressed against him, tasting himself on you.

‘bend over the sink for me, princess.’

you were practically grinding back against him already, hips swivelling on nothing. you hadn’t noticed the mirror when eddie had first pushed you into the stall, but you finally caught a glimpse of yourself and- holy hell.

your eyeliner was dripping down your face, and where it had previously stylishly smudged it was now destroyed, smeared around your cheeks. your hair was a knotty mess, nose snotty and drool seeping out of the edges of your mouth. yet, somehow, you felt so powerful. you’d taken control of the situation, got what you wanted and, you’d discovered, looked pretty hot when you were all fucked out. behind you, eddie already had your shorts pulled down your thighs, and he was making moves to eat you out until you cried when your hand came back to stop him.

‘baby,’ you panted, vice-like grip on his wrist, ‘i need you. ‘m wet enough, promise, just put it in, please.’

eddie never much liked passing up on foreplay with you. he always took his time, made you come once or twice with his fingers and tongue before he eased himself into you. you very rarely had to do anything to get him going; he’d spend so long on you, he’d be bursting to cum before you’d even started. but the tables had been turned and he had the power here. so he yanked your panties down and sank himself to the hilt in your pussy.

‘eddie, fuck!’ you cried out as soon as he bottomed out, head dropping down so your forehead was touching the porcelain sink. instantly, a hand wound it’s way around the back of your neck and yanked your head back.

‘i’m gonna need you to watch, babe. watch yourself get fucked out, there’s a good girl.’ you whined at his words, meeting his eyes in the mirror. he looked as wild as you; hair sticking up all over, fringe plastered to his forehead, and his eyes were fixed on the place where you met. it was all too much, too hot, and before you knew it your eyes were closed again. the hand braced against your hip delivered a sharp slap to your ass, the other gripping your hair and pulling your head back.

‘stop fuckin’ looking away, baby, i’m not gonna tell you again,’ he spat, delivering a particularly deep thrust that had your knees buckling under you.

‘i want you to look at yourself in the mirror while i stuff you up. you’re gonna let me fuck you in a public space like a dirty slut, you’re gonna get fucking treated like one, do you understand me?’ you could only moan in response, and he let go of your hair in favour of wrapping his hand around your neck. your back was arched against him, his rings chilly and biting against the hot skin of your throat, and he lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper against your ear.

‘sweetheart, if you don’t give me an answer right now, i’ll cum inside you and make you walk out in front of all of those people with it dripping down your legs. so, i’ll ask you again, and i want you to answer me properly. are you going to be a good girl, like i know you can be, and keep watching us, or do i need to repeat myself?’

‘yes, yes eddie, i’ll be so good for you, your good girl, please make me cum, gotta come so bad,’ you were babbling now, and eddie knew you were close. picking up the pace, he gripped your neck even harder, and now you were dizzy and chasing your orgasm and your eyes were pricking tears at how hard you were trying to keep eye contact.

then he bit your shoulder and it was all you needed to push you over the edge, one hand gripping the sink and the other clinging onto the hand wrapped around your neck as you pushed back against him, triggering his own orgasm. he came inside you, deep and hot, and you could hear him rambling as he rode you both through it.

‘jesus christ if i knew you had it in you i’d have been fuckin’ you like this for months, so beautiful, so- shit, so good for me sweetheart, can’t believe you let me do this to you…’ his forehead rested against your shoulder gently, and you leant a hand back to smooth his hair out.

‘was- was that too much?’

you whirled around in surprise, hissing slightly as eddie’s cock slipped out of you, and took his face in both hands.

‘fuck, eddie, that was the hottest shit that’s ever happened to me! and one to tick off the bucket list,’ you shrugged, laughing as his face lit up.

‘bucket list, huh?’

‘oh baby, i gotta whoooole lotta shit to cross off it,’ you winked, giggling as he swooped you up in his arms to kiss you again.

#Eddie munson oneshot #eddie stranger things #Eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson smut #Eddie munson x female!reader #Eddie munson x female reader #stranger things s4 #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #Eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson imagine

[inknopewetrust]

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

summary: you are recruited to the spider society after conducting a batch of vigilante actions against the men who killed your husband, miguel and well... their leader isn’t like the man you remembered.

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider-woman!reader [wc: 12.7k]

warnings: language. this has got everything: backstory, meeting, conflict, angst, sadness, tie-ins with the film, (i hope you're reading this in a stefon voice), ethical dilemmas, vigilante shit, violence, romantic love strains, etc., etc.

Manhattan was rainy. It was always rainy.

But let’s do this again, shall we?

The skyline was high. Muddled variants of blues and reds, the colors that had painted your life for a decade now. It was silly to imagine a world of color beyond that–it's all you knew, you had nothing left.

And all of that nothing was the consequences of the dealings of a few bad men.

You breathed in deep. They were right there, right below your feet.

Their laughter in their indifference to life was vexing. It made your blood broil and bubble to the surface where you thought your eyes may have been red and your grip on the stone building was onerous.

In the distance, police sirens blared across the city where crime did not take a backseat because their most treasure hero was rogue. People were in trouble but you saw cessation of hope with every second that passed and those in charge did nothing to avenge your husband.

Husband. Nevertheless, what you had was gone and never coming home to you. The least you could do was try to find the justice to be brought by your own hands.

"Nah, man..." One of the men–a blonde, high-tech worker from the east side of town–shook his head. "We can't go there. They've got cameras all over the place! Ain't no way we are gettin' out free."

"Well then we go downtown and hit one alongside the river. We'll set up a boat and get us to Brooklyn before they can even suspect anyone was there," another collaborator said. Blondie shook his head determined.

"You think Spider-Girl isn't gonna be waitin' for us?" He scoffed, scuffing his shoes against the pavement. You perched straighter as you peered down. Spider-Woman. It was Spider-Woman.

“She got Mikey last week, Simon two days ago… we don’t have much left and if you think robbin’ fuckin’ Wall Street is gonna save us, you’re wrong.”

A sensible criminal with blood on his hands. Nice.

“Besides, they got the police captain on her ass and while they’re out lookin’ for her, they won’t sweat the small stuff,” blondie pulled a black ski mask from his jacket.

“It’s now or never,” he slipped it on and walked to the door of the bodega on the corner. He held out his hand as if his friend was actually a true friend and not a piece to his own networked puzzle.

Your stomach turned and the sight made your spine tingle.

Outside on the sidewalk of the street in the rain of New York City, the two men who were left of the dirty dozen walked into the grocer with no intention to buy anything.

It hadn’t dawned on you that as you dropped to the pavement, you weren’t wearing your suit or mask.

The hub was quiet.

In this slick world, everything was silver and green and the headquarters were no different — yet too different for Peter to know that he wasn’t from this universe and always felt out of place.

A picture on desk that wasn’t his grounded him to a separate reality; one of love and hope and a small child’s laughter.

Spider-Byte’s was typing away on the keys beside him while he tapped away on the table top.

Nothing exciting had happened since the… glitch. It had been a long nine months without the glue that had put him back together.

That was until Spider-Byte’s computer started beeping in a manic fashion. It was a sound neither of them had heard before. A high pitched siren blaring loudly from a machine the the left of Peter, a button glowing red and flashing.

“Uh,” Peter pointed to the button, “you got any clue what that’s about?”

Spider-Byte shook her head as she pulled up a database on a screen. Her tech hands glided over the keys like music, fluid and fast and working with a purpose.

“Some system Miguel’s got here,” she muttered and Peter attempted to cover the small speaker beside the button with his hand—it didn’t work.

“Where is he? He said he’d be right back and now we’re facing the end of the wor—“

“I doubt this is the end of the world, Peter!” Spider-Byte cut him off harshly. “Now would you be useful and go find Miguel?”

As the dutiful Spider-Person he was, Peter rushed out of the central lair and into the bright white halls of the headquarters. Everyone he passed he asked the same question:

“Hey! You’ve seen Miguel anywhere?”

“Yo! Seen the big man around?”

He slid up to a group of variant Julia Carpenters as they sipped on coffee in the cafeteria. Peter gave them a sly smirk, trying to be cool, and snapped his fingers.

“Have any of you seen the boss today? Looking fine as usual.”

Synchronized, the Julia’s pointed to the empanada station and sure as shit, there was Miguel, talking with the vender who yes, just happened to also be a Spider-Man.

“Miguel!” Peter screeched from the table and Miguel’s mind went soured. A violent jolt to his instincts as the new father came barreling toward him.

“¡At no…!” Miguel mumbled to himself as Peter skidded to a halt, dropping his hand on Miguel’s shoulder with a clunk.

“Hey, Boss! Whatcha… watcha doin’ out here?” Peter chuckled nervously and Miguel narrowed his eyes. “You said you’d be right back.”

“I did,” Miguel drawled. “I told you five minutes and it’s only been three, Peter.”

Peter laughed, glancing around the space as confused gazes began to pick up on the pebbles of sweat that dripped from his temple.

“Oh! You don’t say?”

“What’s so impo—“ Miguel began but never finished. Lyla appeared out of thin air with a casual urgency unlike Peter’s frantic one.

“We’ve got a doozy here for ya, boss.”

With Lyla, everything came to life smoothly. As she snapped her fingers, holograms of screens appeared like magic and on them, an un-masked, Spider-Woman was beating the shit out of thieves in a bodega.

“Jesus,” Peter whispered to himself.

“He doesn’t come here,” Miguel replied without a smile nor a chuckle but it took Peter back.

Miguel was watching the woman carefully. This Spider-Woman was not apart of the society and was actively doing what no Spider-Person should do. However, Miguel knew the actions. He felt them deep within his bones and the mistakes he had made as a newly minted Spider-Man 2099.

“Name’s Y/n L/n… a former nurse who got mixed up in a bad batch of blood for a transfusion. This isn’t the first time we’ve been alerted about her,” Lyla debriefed and Miguel snapped.

“What do you mean, ‘not the first time?’”

“These are a group of men she’s been targeting. It’s got to do with her,” Lyla cleared her throat that was nonexistent, “canon event.”

“We have to bring her in,” Miguel began walking away from Peter and Lyla followed. “I am NOT having some vigilante shit show up on this doorstep. Peter, get Jess, brief her and get a day pass to bring along.”

“Miguel,” Peter wagered, “what if this is associated with her canon? What if she’s just an anti-hero in her world?”

“She’s not,” Lyla piped back in. “She’s a hero, hero. And this isn’t part of her canon event. You’ve gotta know how grief moves people?”

Miguel grunted, Peter sighed.

“Get Jess. I’ll wait for you,” Miguel pushed on Peter’s shoulder to send him the other way.

Once alone and down the winding halls near the center of the headquarters, Lyla spoke again perched on Miguel’s shoulder.

“Miguel, I think there’s something you should know?”

“Know what, Lyla?” Miguel’s attitude had always been sour—she had been there from his creation and it never changed. He never truly smiled, he never truly laughed.

Miguel O’Hara was a tough nut to crack in a world full of people who lived off joy and laughter.

But she could feel the sensations radiating off of him. Those strident lines of afflictions that were masked by the way he covered his face. The tense nature of his shoulders as he walked further and further away but closer to a person he’d never thought to face again.

It felt like an intrusion all over again.

“You know what, Lyla?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” she defended, hologramed hand squeezing his shoulder. “But there are a million Peter’s and Gwen’s and MJ’s out there.”

“This isn’t her,” Miguel huffed. “She would never do this.”

“But she is, Miguel… and her canon event is you.”

“So a possible disruption?”

“It’s already happened,” Lyla explained, giving immediate explanation to your actions. Miguel did not know you in this way, but he could imagine why such feelings would manifest in violence.

“Good, good.”

Lyla scoffed, hopping to her feet. “I wouldn’t say it’s ‘good,’ boss. You died in her world. You were married in her world. I think she’s gonna wanna slap you for even existing in another timeline.”

“Why?” Miguel quirked a brow. “You know her or something? Keeping secrets from me now?”

To save her, Peter and Jess entered the lair with their bands glowing. Lyla simply shrugged and disappeared before they jumped into an Earth that would feel like they own but be nothing like it.

“Miguel," Jess was already shaking her head. Three months pregnant and still doing work, both Peter and Miguel would not be surprised if the child arrived wearing a suit of their own. "There's no anomaly there–there hasn't been a case in that world of a villain glitching from another."

"It's not about the bad guys," Miguel walked toward them to meet them in the middle. "What she's doing no Spider-Person has done before and what's the purpose of a society if we don't help one of our own?"

Lyla appeared between the three ready to open the portal.

"One last thing, folks!" She walked around casually glowing and pushed up her heart shaped glasses to her hairline. "She's not wearing her suit - so if you don't work fast, her identity will be known to the public and well! We just can't have that, can we?"

"Fantastic!" Peter complained as Miguel opened up the portal. "They are a bit suffocating really, if you asked me."

"Well we didn't," Miguel gruffed.

"What's her name? Just Spider-Woman?" Jess asked. "Should we just yell 'Hey! Spider-Woman! Stop it! You're actually a good person!'"

"Y/n. Her name is Y/n and don't freeze up when you see her, alright bud? Alright! See you all when you get back! Have fun!" Lyla waved, patting Miguel's leg as she walked the floor and disappeared once more.

Stretching out his legs, Peter did not miss the glare Miguel gave Lyla. His eyes cold and hardened; he knew so little of this leader but felt he knew so much. Miguel wasn't like the other Spider-People and well, he assumed perhaps you were not either.

Peter missed that he should have recognized your name.

He had been there with Miguel when the other world collapsed.

"Anything else you wanna tell us, boss?" He pushed. Miguel shook his head and slipped on his mask in more ways than one.

"She's disturbing her own canon by going rogue. I'm not going to let her destroy it because she's... upset."

Jess laughed and Miguel was indignant. "If she's a bad egg, she's a bad egg, Miguel. You can't save everyone."

"She's not a bad one!" Miguel scolded her, pointing out toward the darkness of the portal. "She's not supposed to do this and we need to fix this! Y/n is good!"

Peter smirked, wiggling his brows. He could sense Miguel's anger muddled with a nervous fear he never had. "Y/n, Miguel... first name basis already and we haven't even met her. You move fast, don't you?"

"Oh, you are so fucking annoying! She was my wife!"

Peter's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Oh no! Not again, nope!"

"She doesn't exist in this world anymore, Peter," Earth 928, "and in another timeline, she's taken the mantle."

Jess jutted her hip out as the whirring of the portal loomed over them. "So you exist in her's too then? This won't be too confusing. It's just like Peter and MJ or Gwen in the thousands of realities that exist."

"Sure, sure," Miguel said. "But there are only three realities where she exists and," he cleared his throat as he looked down the portal, "this is the last one left."

"We shouldn't risk it. We can't collapse another world."

"We won't collapse it."

"How do you know that?" Peter questioned. There was always a level of selfishness when it came to those someone loved most.

"I just... I just know! You're not in charge here, Peter. If I don't have any hesitations right now, then neither can you."

"Well then," Peter strutted through the portal and turned around before his body was completely gone, "Let's go get us another Spidey then, yeah?"

And he saluted Miguel and Jess before jumping in.

"You've been monitoring her world?" Jess asked and Miguel looked to his feet. She had never seen him so bashful. Never one to make a scene of rash emotional actions, the causation would need

"I watch over many worlds."

"Yeah but come on," She dug, "this is a lot different than those worlds. You know her."

"I don't know her," Miguel defended himself and took a step further into the portal. "She isn't my wife. She's just a version of her that I don't know."

"Mhm," Jess hummed and drummed on her arm as they remained crossed from the moment Miguel said you were his wife. "Let's go meet her then. Then you can go on and on about how she's everything you remember but not the same."

And she walked through the portal before she disappeared to leave Miguel alone.

With clenched fists, Miguel breathed in deep and appeared in a reality he promised never to interfere with.

Inside of the bodega, the two men bartered with one another in the aisle. They looked to be two friends having a conversation in the middle of the shop but their intentions were not pure.

The bell above the door rang as you entered. Shoulders and hair wet from the rain, the cashier paid you no mind as he changed the station on his portable radio sat on the counter.

There were three civilians inside. One, the cashier who was oblivious and that is the sole reason these thugs decided to hit the bodega. An 'easy' target to get in and out. Two, a woman who was going grey at her temples. And three, a teenage kid with untied sneakers.

You ducked behind a shelf as you watched them in the aisle beside you. Between the chips and pretzels they concocted their idiotic plan in the presence of innocent people as they always did–it was how their bank robbery disaster went sideways six months ago.

When civilians are present, one of them will always try and become the hero. It is what Miguel did and now he's six feet under in a cold box.

"Excuse me, Miss," the older woman pointed to the bag of chips that your hand was resting on. She turned your attention away from the men. "Could I get one of those? I don't mean to be a–"

The men began to make their moves and you were distracted by the woman. She had kind eyes. Easy and familiar and a familial feeling to them as she waited patiently for you to move.

"Yes, yes," you replied as you got out of her way. "Sorry."

You didn't know why you apologized. Maybe you felt sorry she found herself in this bodega at an hour such as this.

"No worries, dear." The boy wasn't far from her either. He was shuffling through a freezer looking for a drink that wasn't there.

As she grabbed onto the bag, the radio dropped to the floor and turned off. It startled everyone inside and the cashier filled the silence with his desperate pleas.

"Oh my," his jaw chattered, "please... I don't have anything.... I-I-I I've gotta lot of student lo-o-oans and I really n-need this job."

He was staring into a silver barrel of a gun by the hands of the blonde who orchestrated everything. The older woman screeched behind you and the freezer door slammed shut with a "oh hell no!" following its thud.

You imagined the fear they felt was the same Miguel felt that day. Sitting there, hostage on the bank floor with a check to cash from his mother for his birthday.

The check was in evidence splattered with his blood.

In the neon light of the bodega, you made a choice to never let that happen again.

The cashier kept muttering whole-hearted pleas and the friend reached over the counter to open the register's drawer but it was locked.

"Unlock it!" Blondie ordered, shaking the gun closer and closer to the cashier who looked close to wetting himself. Behind you, the older woman crouched to the floor began praying to herself.

"Unlock it now, you son-of-a-bitch! You wanna end up on the floor? Open it!"

The cashier, who now you realized had a name badge on that read 'Max', began to reach for the keys that were hooked onto the counter.

Fear in his eyes, anticipation in theirs, anger in yours.

Anger always caused the tides to turn.

You reached your hand forward in a quick motion and the web that released itself from your wrist snatched the keys from the hook. Max flew backwards in a jolt of despair and the barrel was soon pointed at you.

"Oh you have got to be kidding!" Blondie screeched and fired a shot. He missed. It was sent right into a chip bag and exploded them all over the floor. You tossed the keys to the older woman and went for the gun.

Like child's play, the gun flew across the bodega and into your palm to be crushed like a piece of fruit. It was still hot from being fired and its pieces crumbled to the floor.

"What the fuck–" the woman stuttered.

"So," Blondie spoke and you hated his tone. Condescending and mighty. "Spider-Woman has a face..."

This friend pulled a bracelet from his pocket that lit up green. It glowed as brightly as the neon signs in the window blurred by the rain.

"She does," you replied. "And it will be the last face you see."

He laughed. They always did. It was an inescapable pattern of dealing with enemies who thought they would win. They never did, and they all thought the same way.

"Is that so? I would really hate to have the Bugle's headline to read: Spider-Woman killed innocent civilians at the 6th street Bodega." He let out a series of tisks with a shake of his head. "Who knew heroes could be so bad?"

He looked to his friend. "Herman..."

The friend, Herman, locked eyes on you and approached quickly and with a heavy hand charging with the green of the gauntlet. You could hearing the whirring and the loading of the power.

Instead of moving out of the way, you turned and pushed the older woman away. She slid on the slick floor into a corner with her bag of chips still in her hand.

The shock hit you with a staggering power. It blew you backwards into an ice freezer in the back of the store. As you landed on the ground, the woman whimpered in the corner and the boy caught your eye underneath a table by the restrooms.

He couldn't have been more than fifteen.

And he wasn't going to die today.

So, you got back on your feet and brushed off your jacket. The residual sting of the shock began to wear off and the men looked at you with a challenge.

"Who knew fighting the Spider would have been so easy?" Blondie laughed. "Where were you when we started? It would have been a much more fair fight."

"Busy," you spat.

"Huh," he hummed with a nod of his head. It was like he was trying to clock you–the way his eyes squinted and he tilted his head just a bit higher than it normally would have been. "Say, have we met before?"

"I'm sure I would remember. This is certainly a pleasurable encounter."

Blondie didn't let the words sting. You weren't a Spider who stung with a bite.

"I've seen your face before..."

"Maybe I just have one of those faces," you quirked a brow and Herman charged his gauntlet again. "Is this the worst you can do? Threaten a few innocents and have your friend do all the work? What happened to real criminals, huh?"

"Funny," he walked like a villain. Hands in his pockets, shoes scuffing the floor. "I've heard that one before." His mind raked the last time he heard that.

"Well it must say something about you then."

Herman went to shock again and you shot a web at him. He went soaring into a wall, head hitting it hard.

"I know!" He snapped his fingers like a lightbulb went off inside. Clarity now in a world filled of unclear ways. "I've seen your picture before."

"So what?" You matched his movements as he moved toward the center of the store. Every tight aisle blocked your view like a shutter.

"'Is this the worst you can do?' Someone told me that a short time ago. A man who tried to get in my way."

Miguel.

He was at the bank. He had his check ready, he was at the counter. Miguel had his wallet out and prepared.

He had a photo in his wallet.

"And I think you know how that turned out for him. But here's the thing, Spider-Woman... I don't hate the idea of having that same fate met you tonight. I imagine being so deep underneath the ground it gets a little lonely."

He stopped at the center, so did you.

"I think it's time for you to join him."

But all you saw was red.

There was an intense pulsing pressure inside of the bodega. You weren't sure how much time had passed as your fist dug deeper and deeper into the man who spoke too much and had little to act upon.

Whimpers of those left inside were deferred. The begging of his friend fell on deaf ears.

In the corner beside the three civilians–the woman, teen, and cashier–a glowing hexagonal portal opened to the dimension in which they lived. It hummed like a freezer and moved like something from the cinema they watched last year but instead of aliens appearing from the abyss, three people emerged no different than the way they walked.

They were people, human. Three Spider-People in a world that already had a Spider-Woman.

In their perspective the heroes were welcome. They were terrified and huddled within one another as one robber was webbed to the wall and the other was being beaten to a pulp by a woman with super-human strength.

"Peter," Miguel motioned to the civilians in the corner, "get 'em out of here."

The humble servant Peter was, he acted quickly. His nervous high-pitched voice soothing their fears with panic and disbelief that three masked people walked through a portal as though it was any other day.

"Get the man down, Jess," Miguel pointed to the guy webbed to the wall. Jess tipped her head to the side with an amused, sly grin on her face as he wept. Chick's a badass, she thought.

A violent one at the moment, albeit, but a badass nonetheless.

Fist hovered in the air, you went rigid as the sensations coursed through you. A striking feeling that felt more like a severe headache that came on too quickly, the immense pressure your body suddenly took on wasn't unfamiliar.

You had felt them before. It happened when something in the air changed. When something you knew could disappear or when time was suddenly running short. There was no term for it nor did any other person in this world feel what you felt.

The man below you gurgled. It was, just like the sensation, a sound that awoken something within you. It cleared the vision from red to reality and suddenly the harsh lighting of the bodega and the reflections of the neon signs on the linoleum filled in the edges.

"Shit," you stammered as your grip on his body lessened with every second.

Those consistent strums of radiating itching went from the top of your head to the base of your skull. A humming in the distance turned into a whirring sound that was too extraneous to come from a small place such as this one.

In an instant, the aluminum window covers were pulled from the ceiling by a pair of red, glowing lines reminiscent of webs. It shut out the outside world and the rain that had been pouring down for hours. The neon lights no longer reflected themselves on the flooring.

A hero, a villain... at some point those had all become the same to you.

The ideas that propelled them to act were all based in something that made them feel passionate enough to target an opposing force. When a hero turns to the fragmented middle of the road and balances the line of enemy and friend, the revelations of such shame grow from a deeper place of pain.

"Let him go."

The voice in your head sounded so much like Miguel.

And once your senses stopped going wild, your heart lept into your throat at the thought.

You buried him. You buried him six feet under.

The door to the bodega's alley opened and closed.

"Come on," the voice said again, "let him go and we can clean up this mess."

"Stop," you mumbled, shutting your eyes as your fists clenched the man's jacket harder. The one that had been in the air dropped to his chest. It was wet with the mixture of sweat and blood.

"Stop it please. Please stop it."

"Those civilians are gonna go get the police," his voice was low. It was that kind of voice that Miguel would use to talk you down from a nightmare–or maybe what this dimension had made you.

"And when they get here, what do you think they're gonna do when they see you sittin' over him?"

"Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking–" you repeated again and again. A thud in the distance set the blonde's friend on the floor and a web kept him in place once more.

"Boss they're gonna take her," another voice, not one you had ever head before filled the room and suddenly you were terrified that it wasn't voices you were hearing in your head. "We gotta bring her back with us."

"Alright! Three darling innocents saved again by, you guessed it," a far too cheerful voice added to the collection, "me."

You were curled into yourself over the blonde. Peter saw a woman, not dressed in a traditional uniform, use her powers for bad. But he saw the destruction of the man and knew that it wasn't from sheer wickedness.

He had seen you care so much before. It had to come from a place of caring.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "this is... a lot." And then he blanched.

"Jess," Miguel motioned to your static figure. He turned around and walked away as if to say 'you got it.'

There was an inflection in his voice that made Jess bristle. She hated the tone; removed and vacant. He was already living a humorless existence and the idea that this dimension made you act this way fractured himself in a new way.

"You heard him," Peter went scouring the aisles, plucking a bag of dried beef from a shelf to shove his mouth with. "You got this!" He gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

So, Jess had this.

She didn't crouch down. She didn't attempt to place a hand on your shoulder or help clean off your hands.

Jess kneeled on the other side of the man and your distant eyes met hers to know you weren't alone. You weren't alone in your pain and you certainly weren't alone in this world.

Your first thought was that she was pretty. Your second thought was that this woman was pregnant and that made you sad.

"Looks like you've gotten yourself in a bit of a mess," she spoke quietly but acted quickly. She placed her fingers on the pulse of the man.

He was breathing.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Jess."

"Jess," you repeated, "and Jess comes from...?"

She saw your lip tremble, eyes welling with tears. Jesus, she thought, she wasn't ready to be a mother if she couldn't deal with a thirty-something spider-woman who happened to be Miguel's wife in three different dimensions.

"Earth–404."

"Earth?"

"You felt that, right?" She motioned to her head, mimicking a tingling sensation with her fingertips. You nodded.

"Well, a lot of us have it... and I mean people like you and me... and I know it makes no sense, but if you can fight mutant enemies, maybe you can imagine there are other worlds out there."

"Like planets?" You sniffed and your hands began to shake. Everything bubbling to the surface of pain and anger. "You're from another planet?"

"Not really, but kinda, sure," she agreed for your sake.

"And your friends?"

"Different planets too."

You breathed in a shaking breath. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the sirens begin to blare. It may have been 10 blocks or 6 blocks, but they were coming and they were coming in fast.

"Now," Jess cleared her throat, "it looks like you've gotten yourself in a little situation that needs a bit of help."

Jess was the most sympathetic she had ever been. The way your hands shook, your tiredness expanded beyond you. Maybe it was the fact she knew what made you go off the deep end that made her feel more thoughtful.

"They, um-"

"It's ok," Jess said and didn't let you finish. "We just need to get you somewhere safe, ok? Me and my friends can help you."

The sheen in your eyes was cloudy. Face wet and brushed with splatter of a man who was not yours, there was a lifeline to get you out of here and you had to take it.

You shook your head softly before it became more frantic. "I don't have anyone to go to... I don't have anyone."

"You do," her hand hovered over the man's body as Peter came back and lowered himself beside Jess. "You're gonna have a whole group behind you if you let us help."

"We'll get you all cleaned up and then introduce you. There is a whole universe of us out there."

"Us?"

"Spider-People?" He questioned, brows furrowed. Jess hadn't been explicit.

"A society," she drew back from Peter. "Like myself and Peter," indirectly introducing him, "and you and–" she stopped short.

"And you want me there?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "I mean, we could use some more badass Spider-Women around."

"But I–"

"Don't worry about all this, alright? We all have our moments."

Peter reached out his hand for you to take. There was a certain level of hesitancy you felt; perhaps it was a trick or maybe you were trapped in another nightmare. But Peter gave a small smile. He gave off a warmth that Jess had exuded and made you nearly forget that there were three voices and not their two.

You took Peter's hand.

The man was breathing, he would live even if he didn't deserve to. The sirens were no more than 3 blocks away.

"You gonna need one of these," Jess held out her hand to reveal a rubber bracelet.

"A day pass," she explained, "to help you adjust."

"Adjust?"

"It's better to ask fewer questions," Peter scrunched his face. "Less confusion for you."

You slipped on the bracelet.

"We good here?"

It was that voice again, the one from the back of your head.

"We gotta go. Time is ticking."

Except this voice wasn't the back of your head now that you've realized there were others in this bodega. As you rose from the floor and began walking as Jess led the way, the friend was passed out on the floor and a glowing hexagonal portal was lingering in the back of the store.

The sounds, the sensations... it meant something.

"All good, Boss. The robbers will live."

The man in the blue suit–from what you could tell–nodded and looked in your direction but said nothing. There was something in your body that was sending alarm bells to your mind but you ignored them.

They weren't like the sensations you had felt before. These were different in a way you couldn’t explain.

“Right let’s, ah,” he hesitated as his hands rested on his hips. You looked at him and he looked away. “Get moving then.”

“What’s going to happen when I go through that thing?” You pointed to the portal.

He didn’t look at you. He couldn’t look at you. All he saw was his wife who used to laugh at his corny jokes and rest her head on his shoulder in bed. He saw, in one dimension, the mother of his child and he saw a happy, generous nurse who loved her job.

But when he looked at you know, part of that image was shattered.

You were a little bit broken and a little bit worn down by the world you lived in. You had blood-splattered clothing and tear stained cheeks and it was enough to make his heart ache more than it already did.

“It will pop you out just where we want you,” Peter said as he took a step into the portal and his body began to glitch with the moving sphere around him. “Just walk in and it will do the rest.”

“And it’s safe?”

“So far, yeah!” And he ran off before he disappeared.

“I’ll see you there, alright?” Jess turned to you, then looked at Blue before giving a smile that was as flat as a dead man’s heart beat.

She walked in just as suave as she came.

Suddenly, it was just the two of you and it felt strange.

There were so many feelings lingering that you couldn’t grasp onto. The air was comfortable but hesitant; there was a barrier of distrust and burden, but one that itched to reach out a hand to help.

“You know,” you sniffed back a chuckle, “I half thought I was crazy for a second.”

“About what?” He asked. “The fact that you almost killed a man or the portals? Both are equally crazy.”

In any other circumstance you would have thought he was being sarcastic.

You shook your head. You were beginning to feel the weight of your actions.

“I thought I heard voices… a voice in my head.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” you glanced at the portal.

A lull. The whirring of the portal, the sounds of police cars went mute when you looked back. Blue was looking at you but you couldn’t see his eyes. You couldn’t see a thing and indeed, you didn’t know his name.

Blue.

Miguel’s favorite color was blue.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly. “For coming here. I think I’m still a bit shell-shocked,” you laughed and he knew you were, “but maybe I was waiting for this… I don’t know.”

“It’s our job.”

Blue was done with the conversation at that point. He walked to the portal, his body glitching just like Peter and Jess’s did.

“Come on,” he motioned to you.

“What’s your name? The other two—they introduced themselves.”

“Spider-Man.”

“That’s not your name.”

He let out a huff. “You wanna be caught by the police? Fine.” He began walking again and the glitching became more erratic.

“Who’s to say you’re all not some group of aliens trying to kidnap me? At least the other two looked like me!”

His patience too was skating on thin ice.

“Come on, kid, let’s go.”

Maybe you weren’t crazy.

“What did you just say?”

He turned his body back to you and walked out of the portal. On the precipice of where you stood just beyond and where he did, he towered over you.

“I’m giving you a chance here. You come with me now or you’re dead here.”

“Kid. You said ‘kid.’ Why did you say that? Why did you say I was a kid?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, let’s go.” Like a rhythmic pattern, he turned back around.

“I’m not crazy. I know I’m not fucking crazy.” You sure as hell looked it. “Why did you say kid? Who told you to call me kid?”

“No one—“

A sudden banging on the door to the bodega caught the attention left in the room. Blondie started to gurgle, you stood steadfast, and Blue was agitated.

You took a step into the portal. Progress.

“Nobody calls me kid, no one. Why won’t you tell me your name? Who the hell are you people? Who are you?”

“We don’t have time for this!” The way he said your name that followed was one you had heard a million times.

It was just like Miguel used to say.

“Take off your mask.” You demanded and stepped further again.

“Take off your fucking mask or I’m stepping out of this goddamn thing and going to prison.”

The police began to feverishly hit the glass with their batons.

“Take it off,” you begged, “please. Please let me see you.”

And how could he say no to his wife who begged so mercilessly?

There was a time where you replayed that moment over and over in your mind.

You could still feel the way your breath caught in your chest. An immense wave of emptiness washed from you and filled with a jittery dismay that had no outlet.

His eyes were no different; the way his lips sat and his brow furrowed.

You felt the silent shed of tears mask your face before the glass breaking set Miguel moving toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the portal.

His touch was the same.

And when he opened his mouth, what he sounded like was different from what he said and you were quick to realize that this Miguel was not your Miguel.

This Miguel despised people who lived happy lives.

This Miguel was mean and callous and demanding

This Miguel worked beyond reasonable hours and made being a Spider-Man his life’s purpose.

That was not your Miguel.

There was no making sense in that moment. You either believed it or you didn't and if you didn't, then they'd drop you back off in a world that had your face plastered on wanted posters and big screens in the middle of the city.

So you made sense of it and made some semblance of life within the four walls of the Spider Society headquarters with the Grade A asshole known as Miguel O'hara – not your husband.

The grief of that worked in waves. It came and went when life continued to move. It was strange to think that what brought you here, to this future, occurred one year ago.

Sat by a window looking out into an Earth that was not yours, you swung your legs as those thoughts crossed your mind. The chatter of a thousand Spider-people filled the space around you.

A thud sounded on the beam a few feet from you. Soft, nearly mute shoes tapping their way beside you. Green. The color of artificial grass in a children's playset, nearly blue.

"Watcha doing?"

There was never a moment of peace here. But you closed you eyes, sighed and a smile quirked on your lips.

"You daydreaming? I wonder what it's like out there..." Gwen Stacy joined the Spider-Society three months ago. "It looks so... contempo."

"Contempo? Where did you hear that?"

"I read you know," she tipped her head up in mock offense. "Kids do read when they're in school."

"Yeah, yeah," you brushed her off.

"So... what are you up to today? I was thinking we could monitor the dimensions with Jess and maybe catch a bad guy or two–" Gwen's fists mimicked boxing, "–and then Peter said he'd bring Mayday around–"

"Slow down," you chuckled. "I am up to nothing, thanks for asking and if that's what you want, sure."

Her eyes lit up when on most days they didn't.

"Really!?"

"Mhm, yeah, sure."

"Great!" Gwen got to her feet and wrung her hands. "Jess was in the control center so–"

"Control center?"

Gwen hummed, hands clasping behind her back comically.

"Yep! Just... chillin' by a screen. You know, she's got that baby on the way and all so we thought it'd be best to keep her inside for the time being and she doesn't like that but she said–" Gwen went on and on as the words came pouring out.

"Gwen."

"–that she would rather die than have to sit here and watch screens all day. I told Peter she would hate it and he agreed with me but sometimes he brings–"

"Gwen."

"–Mayday around just to cheer us up that we haven't gone on that many missions and its always well... you know... and we feel like we can't do anything to help out sometimes–"

"Gwen!" You shouted at her. She stopped her rambling; blue eyes wide and ears listening. "Just... take a breath, alright?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"You don't have to be sorry," a sharp breath steadied you. "I'm not going to go with you to the control room."

"Please," she begged. You imagined this is what it was like having a teenage daughter who wanted the most unattainable of things. "I promise it will be fine! Miguel's not even there so you don't have to worry about what he said last time!"

"That was three days ago, Gwen!"

"So what!?"

The last time was three days ago.

Ever since you arrived, it had been nothing but anger and hostility pushed toward you from him but you were not easy on him either. It was hard facing a piece of your past that had every connection but no foundation at the same time.

Earth 9591 was in ruins and the screens replayed the horrors of the people over and over. It was desolate. Earth was crumbling in on itself and a medieval Rhino had found itself in the mess as Earth 9591 Peter was on his last leg.

According to Miguel, this Peter was supposed to experience this.

"We can't just let him die, Miguel," you argued as he stood up on his platform above you and Peter. "There is a chance he could live and we're reducing him to nothing because of his goddamn canon?"

"We can't mess with it, you know that." Miguel's patience was running thin. "Every time we can't interfere you come here with the same argument and the answer is always no. It will always be no."

"Why?" You pushed. Sometimes just seeing his face now made you mad. The questions of why this Miguel got to live when your's didn't was something that constantly simmered within you.

"You plucked me from my Earth and brought me here so why can't we do that for him? He'd be healthy and safe here."

"This is supposed to happen to him," he huffed your name as he turned back to the screens. "Not every battle is going to be one that Spider-Man wins and if we mess with it, we threaten that whole dimension."

"Well it sure as hell looks like it's in a bit of trouble, boss," Peter let out a nervous chuckle.

"And so it is."

"But what of Rhino, hm?" He hated the way you rose your eyebrows in question. Every version of you did that. "That's not supposed to be his fate."

"One less villain we have to worry about."

You let out a frustrated groan. "When did you become so heartless? We save people here, Miguel. We don't let them suffer."

"I'm not heartless. I'm being realistic and the fact is that 9591 Peter isn't gonna live and his world will become uninhabitable. That is part of his canon, end of story."

"So my canon said to bring me here?" You asked, hands on your hips. Peter inched backwards from you because he could feel the rumblings of the volcano bubbling.

"Take me from my home and bring me here for what? To have another person go along with every decision you make? Newsflash, Miguel, that's not going to happen."

"Oh, really?" He laughed, sarcastically, and looked down at you from above.

"Yes, really. Maybe this canon bullshit is just that, bullshit. Maybe you made a mistake–"

"I didn't make a mistake," he defended loudly. "I am not letting other worlds get destroyed because of stupid decisions."

"So it's only a stupid decision when it's a reality that we both exist in?"

If Peter hadn't known any better this would have sounded like a fight between a married couple.

"That's not what I said," Miguel brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and squeezed. "We can't go around making those same mistakes. I am not putting any other lives in danger."

"But you did it when it benefitted you."

Miguel mumbled to himself up there. You couldn't hear. Peter took more steps back and Spider-Byte ducked behind her consul. Miguel's brown mop of hair slicked back with the motion of his hand.

"Well you would've liked that world too."

"I liked the one I was from."

God, some days he really disliked you.

At the same time, when Miguel looked down at you, he saw the wife he knew in a different capacity and it sent his mind spiraling. He didn't sleep, he barely took the time to care for himself because all he could think about was the dimensions of happiness that you both had and the one you've both found yourselves in now.

He hated that he loved the body of the woman he knew but couldn't fully trust the version of you that existed now.

"We're not going."

"Miguel,"

He lept from the platform and onto the level you stood on. Still as large as before, his shadow filled your space before he did and for some ungodly reason, the presence of this Miguel made your heart pump furiously as your husband had.

Miguel had that look in his eyes that made them appear red. Fist clenched at his sides and that same lingering sadness emitting from his person.

"Not another word."

He hated the challenge you took from him.

"Why is it ok that you took me from my dimension? To serve some sick purpose of remembering your wife?" You spat at him.

You were just like her... just a little more broken.

"I'm not her, Miguel."

"You think I don't know that?" His voice was nearly caught in his throat. "You think I don't know that you're not her? It's pretty goddamn obvious you're not her."

"Oh yeah?" Your voice was no different.

You hated when you fought with Miguel in your dimension and that didn't change in this one.

Peter thought he should look away.

"Well she's not here, is she?"

Miguel stared at you. He couldn't help the way his eyes moved over your face. He saw the same eyes, nose, and lips. You were his wife just as he was your husband.

"No," he said as a ghostly whisper, "she's not."

"And maybe I'm not like her but you're not like my Miguel either... so don't make this fall on me. I didn't ask to come here."

"You're here now," Miguel's voice was devoid of feeling. "So get used to the rules. We're not going."

And he stalked off with Peter following on his tail.

If you closed your eyes you could see fragments of Miguel. Now, however, this Miguel was beginning to eclipse those memories.

"Shit..." Spider-Byte snickered from behind her monitor. Her blue glow filling your vision as you looked at her. "I wouldn't take that, mama. I'd kick his ass."

Miguel wasn't there. He was off saving a dimension because canon was all that mattered and Jess was monitoring that other universes just as Gwen had said.

It was a relief.

So, you sat back and watched as Jess and Gwen flipped through the different footage from the dimensions that either lit up red for an anomaly or maintained green for a perfect balance.

Jess flipped through them quickly. Every world passing by your face within a second of seeing the light on the panel turn green. The few instances of red sent her pressing on a communication button before Gwen could complain that she wanted to go out and fight.

Gwen lingered on worlds. She looked at the images as though she wished to be a part of them.

She hesitated moving on from a boy in a black suit just a second too long.

"Gwen?" You asked her as her hand hovered over the button. She was intently looking at him as he moved about the fire escape.

"Gwen?" You reached out a hand to shake her shoulder. She bristled out of her spell and pressed the button before you could ask any questions.

It would be several months later that you'd learn that the boy was the source of it all.

Miles Morales had heard a million versions of the same story.

It all began with a name and that named person being bit by a radioactive spider that magically gave them powers and they used them to save the world, or fight street crime, or kill mice (in the case of that Spider-Cat he saw in the lobby).

They were all the friendly, neighborhood hero that the world needed.

Until the collider messed with their functions and required a society such as this to take on a much larger purpose.

And Miles was taken aback.

He had never felt so seen sans the moment he walked through the doors of the complex. Every turn he made, a new Spider-Person was uniquely fit into their world so different than his own.

Within the chamber of villains from other dimensions, he saw a Spider-Woman without a suit.

"So people like, live here?" Miles asked Gwen who shrugged.

"Some do. We can stay for as long as we like and then go back to our dimensions when we need to."

"And suits are optional?"

Hobie turned around and gave Miles as questionable gaze.

"A uniform is binding, man," he told Miles. "Use what makes you comfortable."

Gwen nearly galloped ahead to the Spider-Woman with a digital portfolio. Miles saw the way Gwen's eyes lit up just as they did when they saw each other again.

Hobie was the one to introduce you. Your named rolled off his tongue like butter–so casual and cool in a way Miles did not believe he ever could be.

"She lives here," He explained. "Can't really go back to her dimension so she does a lot of cataloguing. The main man doesn't want her out of missions... you know," Hobie spun his finger near his forehead, "little crazy that one."

"I'm not crazy, Hobie," you called out as Gwen pointed toward your group.

"No, you're right," he corrected himself. "He's the crazy one."

"That's more like it," you smiled and Miles felt a boyish crush form in his stomach. "Hi Miles. I've heard a lot about you."

You did. Gwen had been giddy in the way she reminisced about her time with Miles. Even Peter put in his two-cents about the way he trained him and it went incredibly poorly for the greater part of their journey together.

You missed a good chunk of time by not being present when they all converged on the same dimension. It may have saved you from yourself.

"Hi," he waved back nervously.

The party kept walking with your addition. Beyond the orange cells of villains captured and waiting to be returned home, a center of technology he could dream of appeared in front of him.

It was just a tour.

Lyla appeared beside you.

"Miguel's hangry," she complained as she looked at her non-existent nail-beds.

"He's probably just angry."

"No," she shook her bob, "it's the hangry kind. You should have the kid pick up something for him... a gift."

"Gift," you chuckled. Miles looked so green. He was amazed by the technology of the go-home-machine that you weren't sure how he would react when he reached the hub. Walking through all of the test technology before going to Miguel's station... he'd be on cloud nine.

"He'll be expecting the party soon."

"I'll stay behind."

You were certain Miguel would be able to hear this conversation but Lyla had a mind of her own–she was artificial after all.

"You should come with. Miles could use your perspectives."

"What perspectives?" This was the longest conversation you had ever held with her. "Oh, Miles," you mimicked, "don't beat criminals to a pulp... um, don't let your anger get the best of you... don't kill people.... yeah, good advice."

"I meant a motherly figure here."

"I'm not a mother, Lyla. Besides, he's got Jess for that."

Lyla glitched to the other side of you. "Jess hasn't taken to him like she did you and Gwen."

"He's got Peter."

"But he could use you too."

You gave a tight-lipped hum.

"Or," she countered, "maybe you need someone like him. It's always strange what effect kids have on adults... makes them... soft or something. You should see the videos of Miguel!" She laughed, you didn't.

"He liked to play soccer with her."

Her. In another dimension, you had a daughter.

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked her.

She waved her hand dissuasively. "Miguel's not going to, so I might as well."

The party began to make their exit. Down to the liar they went and as they walked, Lyla floated in the air beside you. Miles kept peaking back like a child on a holiday.

"Miles," you called out to him.

"Yes?" He turned around quickly and at attention. He was a cute kid. So nervous and out of his element. If it weren't for his merry misfit group of friends, Miguel was sure to eat him alive.

"Do you have a question or is there a reason you keep looking at me?"

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Miles then pointed to Lyla.

"Is she a Spider-Person too?"

"No," you told him and Lyla glitched to him. "An A.I. that Miguel created. She knows all."

"She flatters me," Lyla murmured back a smile.

Miles turned back around and continued on with his conversation that bounced between Gwen and Hobie. Lyla disappeared from the hallway as the sounds of old, tinkered experiments and Miles' struggles painted a picture of a much different boy in your mind.

While his struggles were not yours and you'd never understand them completely, his want to belong struck a chord with you in a way it did with Gwen.

There was a family that could be built here if the realities of pain could be ignored.

Above on his floating platform, Miguel slowly descended as Miles gaped in a slight awe. Yes, it was dramatic. Yes, it was unnecessary and it made you roll your eyes.

Hobie stuck to the wall in the back. Gwen took Miles to the edge and you leaned up against a pillar not far from Hobie.

"Miguel O'Hara," Gwen introduced, "meet Miles Morales."

And then Miles butchered his introduction with cheer. He offered up those empanadas which Miguel slipped right into the trash.

And like Gwen, he fumbled his words by rambling about how to catch Spot.

Miguel threw the trash can at them both only for Hobie to sneak the empanada out of the box and into his hand without blinking.

And then everything spiraled out of control.

Miguel's meter began to spike an angry red as the frantic nature of his focus within this world had been protecting the multi-verse. Here, in this room, Miles was the supposed source of it.

If it wasn't for Miles, many of his problems wouldn't exist and he'd be grateful but he can't be, simply because they are truly real.

"Hey Miguel!" Peter's voice broke through the silent seconds. Miles perked up at the sound. "Come on, go easy on the kid. He had a terrible teacher. He had no chance."

"Peter!"

The two hugged like old friends.

"Miles!" Peter put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be afraid of my friend Miguel. He just looks scary. He's got no bite."

He had seen it once. He chose to ignore it.

So he went on with his little break up of Miguel's serious moment and you watched unfold from the shadows, the orange glow of your tablet keeping you busy while Mayday swung around the room and Miles exasperatedly came to terms with Peter being a father.

"-You always say the 'fate of the multiverse' and my brain dies."

You chuckled to yourself, glancing up at Peter as he circled Miguel. Miguel was holding Mayday like he had never held a child in his life.

That was the kind of thing your Miguel did.

"You guys smell that?" Peter sniffed into the air. He swiftly picked up Mayday and swung right by Miles and Gwen and straight to you.

"You smell that right?" He held her up high. Yes, yes you did smell that.

"That is entirely your problem, Peter."

"Miles–" Miguel caught their attention again. "–You disrupted a canon event."

"Canon event?"

"The kid wasn't thinking," Peter interjected. He held onto Mayday as you strung a web for her to bounce on. Miguel was half torn between the conversation he tried to be stern about and the watching you weave a web for that little girl.

"That's not how he works."

"That's insulting," Miles commented.

Hobie got up from the floor to stand next to you. He caught Mayday in the air, saluting her with two fingers.

"Taking a crap on the establishment... I salute you."

"What are you upset about?" Miles furrowed his brows as Miguel stepped off the platform and walked towards him. The boy would be amiss if he hadn't felt his stomach drop to his feet in the menacing way Miguel O'Hara walked.

"When isn't he upset about something?" You murmured from the back.

"I saved those people."

Ah, yes. Pavitr's dimension. Miguel had been in the go-home-department when it happened.

"And that's the problem," Miguel clarified. "Lyla, do the thing."

As she always did, Lyla appeared with a semi-oblivious nature.

"Huh? What thing?"

"The thing... what do you mean 'what thing?' The information explaining thing!"

She gave a casual 'ok' and the room changed before you.

You had never seen everything before.

Jess had talked about it, Peter mentioned what it looked like, and a few others who had seen it claimed it left them more confused than anything.

It was a bright blue tree, in a sense. Woven with a variation of color that reminded you of the sea at mid-day and the sky at night, everything was a timeline of complete facts of the world. Every moment of every person's lives were tied to this one branch of 'everything.'

Expansive and high, the tree of everything bloomed over your heads and Miles was the one trying to come to terms with the sincerity of it. However, just as he had begun to grasp the idea of everything being resembled by a tree with branches that diverged from its timeline, the room changed to a red web.

Hundreds and hundreds of webs interconnected by lines that captured the very lives in that room. All of them facing convergence by multiple lifelines to different events, canons, and realities that make up a person's existence in the, as he had coined, the Spider-Verse.

"The lines... where the nodes converge?" Miles asked aloud.

"They are the canon."

Every web around him had different nodes. Some had more than others, some had barely any. He noticed a cluster of three big webs with few canon nodes.

"Their chapters apart of every Spider's story, every time. Some good, some bad... some very bad."

Miguel pulled down a cluster to showcase the very bad. You had a sinking feeling somewhere along the line the 'very bad' also included you.

A row of Spider-People emerged in the same position. He saw Peter, he saw Gwen, he recognized you, and then himself leaning over the body of a loved one who perished too soon.

Like a story, Miguel walked through varied canon events that were to occur in many Spider stories. A police captain, a lover, the event that turns someone into a hero, the struggles of the hero.

Miles looked at each of you as a fragment of your past appeared before him.

"That's how the story is supposed to go. Canon events are the connections that bind our lives together and those connections can be broken that why anomalies are so dangerous. Inspector Singh's death was a canon event."

A police captain.

"You weren't supposed to be there."

Even though you weren't there, you saw it unfold from the safety of Lyla's simulation. People running, a bridge nearly collapsing.

"And you weren't supposed to save him. That's why Gwen tried to stop you."

You could see the gears in his brain turning. He was hurt, misguided in his efforts to be a good Spider-Man because it was suddenly becoming a conflict for him. Miles tried to be good. He tried to save people and even doing so, he seemed to mess up.

It was so different from the Spider-Woman you used to be.

"I thought you were trying to save me," Miles admitted to Gwen who had turned her back from him. She kept her eyes to the ground.

"I was. I-I was doing both," she took a chance to gaze back at him only to see the hurt.

She was just doing her job.

"And now, Miles," Miguel sighed and he walked around the space. He planted his feet beside you and Miles took a glance and couldn't tell who was friend or foe.

He didn't know where he stood himself.

"Because you changed the story, Pavitr's dimension is unraveling. If we're lucky, we can stop it. We haven't always been lucky."

Miguel looked at you. He looked at you with a sheen in his eyes that you'd hadn't see from this version of him. For once, he looked as sad as he felt on the inside.

And for once, he wasn't fighting with you about what was right or wrong in that moment.

"That wasn't me!" Miles defended. "That was the Spot."

"It's what happens when you break canon."

"How do you know?"

"Because I broke it once myself."

There was a part of you that wanted out. You wanted out right that second because you had seen enough. You had seen the destruction, had been part of some destruction, and seeing Miguel's world crumble animatedly in front of you wasn't something you wanted. But your feet stuck to the floor. Planted, like mud, waiting to be freed.

It was your story too and you didn't even know what happened.

"I found another world where I had a family. Where I was happy."

In the web, the cluster of three was connected by one single strand to a much larger web with varied canon events. Whatever this was, Miles imagined, was Miguel's universe.

"At least a version of me was. And that version of myself was killed."

This time trying to catch a thief who stole a woman's purse. Not a bank robbery.

"So I replaced him. I thought it was harmless."

You looked away at the scenes. Miguel with her. A little brown haired girl who loved soccer and he did her homework at the kitchen table with her. A father who looked adoringly at a daughter who was joyous and knew no pain.

"But I was wrong."

Then the world began to collapse. In his arms, the girl disappeared as though she had never existed.

"Isn't that right, Peter?"

Your head shot up towards Peter who looked away from you. He had seen you before, in a different reality where you too were happy with the life you lived and where you were happy with a daughter who loved Miguel too.

"Peter?" You gave a weak call to him. He shut his eyes tightly. "Peter, you knew?"

Miles felt the way you felt. A shell of a hero without a purpose with people who made very choice feel like a mistake.

You walked up to Peter. Miles saw the white-knuckle grip you had on the pink robe. This was more than just friends making choices feel like a mistake.

"You knew me?"

Miles glanced back at the web. The three small webs that had little to them stuck out like a bouquet of flowers. Each their own small story.

“Whose is that?” Miles gestured as he tried to ignore the way you prodded at Peter for answers. Perhaps Miles already knew that Miguel had made this more complicated than it needed to be.

He had already destroyed one reality for happiness. Miles imagined that this man could ruin many more if it meant one more second of living.

“These ones?” Miguel pointed to the web of three.

You knew it was yours without even realizing it.

“That’s mine," you breathed in deep.

Even though you hadn't gotten along in this world, Miguel felt the weight of his secrecy fall heavily onto his shoulders.

“You see, Miles,” Miguel started, “there are infinite dimensions were we exist. All these webs here,” he pointed to the connecting lines that reappeared of many lives, “are realities were someone like you may exist. Maybe not as Spider-Man but as something.”

Miguel looked to you and for the first time since he met you in your reality, he saw the woman he fell in love with.

“And her dimensions look a bit different.”

“Why?” Miles questioned. “Why don’t ours look like that?”

“Because you can exist in infinite realities, Miles,” you told him in a voice that reminded him of his mother telling him a relative died. “And I can’t.”

“There is only three of her that exist in our… Spider-Verse, as you put it,” Miguel stated. “And one of them collapsed.”

In a hologram, he saw you in the world they had all just witnessed disappear from reality. Miles saw you running and running and he could see the destination, Miguel and that child, so close yet too far away.

And then there was nothing.

“Oh,” Miles felt sadness creep within him. Gwen wanted to comfort both you and Miles but couldn’t muster it in front of Miguel.

Peter wasn't sure what to do.

One strand of three disappeared.

“And in the other, she’s not here anymore.”

"What dimension is that?"

Miguel sighed. Hands on his hips, he met Miles' intense stare instead of yours.

"This one."

“So there is only me now,” you have a half-hearted smile.

“I thought you said you were the only Spider-Man in this dimension?” Miles asked Miguel as he tried to make sense of this world he found himself in.

“I am,” Miguel clarified. “She’s not from this dimension. Her… alternate self isn’t here anymore.”

He recalled the images of all the Peter’s and Gwen’s and Jessica’s mourning their canon disasters. Loved ones, friends, lovers.

The second strand of three disappeared.

“Does that mean if you…?”

You nodded your head at Miles. Peter put his hand on your shoulder at the admission.

Miguel focused on that hand. He saw the comfort, he saw the friendly love and knew he had wasted time. He had wasted months being angry at you when you weren’t the cause of it.

He had watched over your dimension to keep you safe while you struggled and in his own pain, he made the unity between you strained and unrealistic.

But he also knew the greater purpose.

“I guess I just have to pick the right side.”

You tried to bring levity.

You didn’t realize that you’d be picking Miles and your friends or Miguel and the person you knew because if you didn't you'd lose everything.

And you needed to save yourself in one dimension you still existed in.

Earth 42.

A/N: this isn’t proofed yet. I can totally see a million different sequels to dive deeper into the relationship between reader and Miguel.

As always, comments and reblogs are the best feedback a writer can ask for. I love reading any comments you all leave 🥺. Thank you so much for reading.

Tags:

@csmt-m @er4tous @gracielou0518

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine #fanficition #x reader #x fem reader #fanfic #x female reader #x female y/n #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac

[royalsunshinehotel]

talkin' rings and talkin' cradles ( The Kid x escort!reader, 18+)

Something was different, in all of the months he came to see you, he’d been a gentleman. He’d never pushed you, only kept his hands where you wanted them, and he never, ever hid from you. Now, after a month of no contact, and begging the Gods for his safety, he was right here, hiding. 

No, maybe that wasn’t true. He was just different. 

Over a month, you’d heard nothing. You thought, for a moment, that he’d gotten bored of you, most men who came to see you did eventually, but deciding that perhaps he’d died hurt your heart less. It was all men were good for, after all. 

But here he was, in the back room, eerily calm. Of course it was him, you’d know him anywhere. Tall, broad, a black suit, and a white ape mask covering his beautiful face. You knew it was him under there, but he held himself differently. His shoulders held back, like he wanted to be seen when he walked into a room. 

“What’s happened? Talk to me.” You almost beg him, there was a time you’d have worried you were asking for too much. But not here, not with him. You hear a small sigh under the mask, and it makes your hair stand on end. 

“Was it a fight?” You’d seen him at Tiger’s Temple, you knew how badly he needed to be hit, and hit hard. What if he’d quit pulling his punches. Maybe he’d knocked someone out he hadn’t meant to? What if - 

Your anxiety sits on your chest, digging in deeper, but is cut off by him, slowly, steady as ever, he took your shaky palm in his hand, bringing it up to the mask, as if to kiss it. Of course your hair stands on end, even the lightest touch from him left you shaking. For a moment, you think of other men, the ones who paid to fuck you, and how they’d die to see you like this - obedient, soft, trained.

They didn’t matter, and never would. 

He lets you fall to your knees. You look up at him like he was that western God he’d heard so much about. He knows he’s an absolute fool for coming to see you. It would be the last time, he just had to see you, he just had to tell you … 

And it’s gone. Any plan he’d made of what he’d say evaporated the moment you put your hands on him. 

You were quick with your hands, always, and it dazzled him, just like the rest of you does. 

He breathes heavily through the mask, trying not to crumble at your feet…again…He shouldn’t have left you alone for so long, completely unprotected, with these people. It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this was fair. He shivers lightly, as you expose him to the cold air in the room, and slowly stroke him, firmly and evenly, as if that would hide your own hunger. 

With a short, rough lick to his tip, he’s in pieces. He could sit and ponder the hold you had on him, but he wouldn’t. He’d had enough time to think. 

You take his hands in your own, and put one large, warm palm in your hair. He doesn’t do it himself, so you’ll have to do it for him. You always felt he was far away whenever you had him like this, you wouldn’t allow that this time. 

He, on the other hand, was too busy gazing at you, cock in your hand, begging for attention, and your sweet face totally focused on him. What did he do to deserve this attention? What had he done that warranted such care? 

Your breath on his throbbing muscle feels like fire, it’s quite a contrast to the rest of you. He’d gotten used to your manner, but the way you completely softened to him felt like an honor. You lick lightly, and he grinds his teeth together. Teasing him brought you such joy. You couldn’t imagine a world where everything he passed didn’t fall at his feet and beg for attention, same as you. 

Enough now, you think, as you end it. 

A small puff of air through your nose, and he has to brace himself on the wall behind the two of you. 

You fuck him with your throat. It’s what he deserves. 

The ridges in your mouth drag mercilessly against his member. Your nails dig into his hips, your tears stream freely down your face, and you're determined to have your fill. He’d never spilled in your mouth before, and he wouldn’t today. Even if it would be the last time. 

You whine, just a little, as he lays a warm, wide palm on your shoulder, a little signal to stop. The fold between your brows deepens, you want to taste him but all he ever does is deny you. 

The white ape stares at you, blankly, only a hint of him underneath. He helps you off your knees, and you can’t remember why you were scowling.

He puts his injured palm against your cheek, and your chest is suddenly filled with feathers. He’s always so gentle with you, and you can't stand it.

Your makeup smeared, you grip his shoulders and press yourself against him, reaching up to grab that stupid white ape mask, pulling it off his face.

He looked better than when he'd last come to you, his face a little more round, like he'd smiled at some point since the last time you'd seen him. 'Better' was a good look for him, but the unbearable sadness remained the same.

He knows you see write through him, taking a fist of your hair, pulling your head back firmly, tracing up your throat with his tongue, only meeting your mouth when you keen for it, brushing your nose against his own.

He'd never make you beg, that doesn't mean you wouldn't

Your eyes roll, mouth falling open as he pushes slowly, confidently, inside of you. You allow him to coo at you, “always so good for me, such a good girl,” and you nip at the hand he’s resting on the side of your face. 

You help him, as he moves you like he pleases, humming as he puts your legs over his shoulders, trying to hit deep. You want to keep him and his formidable cock hostage. Maybe you should.

He starts slowly, softly, praising you all the while.

"I've missed you terribly, have you missed me?" You nod, lovely warmth seeping out of every pore.

He thinks, for a moment, about his revenge, and he twitches inside of you. You don’t know a thing, that’s by design. You’re perfectly drunk on his cock, his fierce lover, completely sweet and soft. It makes him insane, the privilege you'd given him.

"Ah - You always take me so well, fit around me just right. Thank you," You put your thumb in his mouth, where it belongs.

Kid wants to tell you that he’ll keep going. He’ll keep fighting, that he can save enough to get the two of you out of the city. You wouldn’t know a moment of worry for him again. 

He says nothing, tears stream down your face as he ruts into you, eyes glazed over as he takes a heated love bite out of your neck.

For a moment, you see yourself in a year - hopefully less, in a different bed, body changed by him, comfortable now. Maybe even free. Maybe you're retired. Maybe you've gone back to laundry, working like your mother, before you were taken away.

Kid rolls the sensitive flesh of your breasts with his burned fingers, watching you twitch against the wall. Your sad little whines sounds like music, and he can't tell you how he lives to hear it.

With your back arched in a silent scream, you shatter. Lost in heaven. 

You drift - vaguely feeling him pound into you, chasing right behind. Your breasts bounce with each thrust, as if it only makes him hungrier. You think about the first time you did this, how you had to put his hands on you, to let him roam as he pleased. He dared now, he roams all over, and he pleases you by pleasing himself. 

Good, you think. 

"Jaana?" He calls to you from far away, voice rough, "Have I hurt you?" You feel him sigh as you smile at him, stunned. He’s still pulsing inside of you, and he’s asking how you are? 

The heat of him makes you wriggle to get closer, and he almost laughs. Almost. You couldn’t get closer without becoming one, he wishes it was possible. 

“No, you haven’t.” You hum,  pressing your face into his neck, and inhaling. He chuckles lightly, and you want to drown in the rumble. Even after letting a stranger devour you, he still fucks you more sweetly than anyone ever has. Or ever will.

Face buried in your neck, your wrists tight in his grasp, you pray to yourself that he’ll stay with you. That he’ll stay overnight, and the two of you can be something more than what you were.

His grip on you tightens, safely stepping forward, and lowering you back on to a worn out mattress. He doesn't like to have you there. Your clawing grip on the back of his neck doesn’t release, your body won’t allow you to let him go. He doesn’t mind. 

He leans down to kiss you like he loves you, and that was far too dangerous to dwell on. 

#monkey man #monkey man 2024 #monkey man fanfiction #monkey man movie #dev patel #dev patel imagine #dev patel fanfiction #kid x reader #the kid x reader #the kid x escort!reader #fuck it we ball *send post*

[sgt-seabass]

Just Imagine this:

"Honey?" Bucky called as he came home from a long day of work only to find you and the kitty asleep, He would scoop you up and put you in bed only mildly stirring you. His perfect family. he would change and hop in bed with you.

THIS MAN IS GORGEOUS

𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒂

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and sgt-seabass

Bucky returns home after a mission, ready to spend time with his two favourite people, you and Alpine.

pairing — bucky barnes x reader w/c — 1.3k part of the Vengeance AU listening to —♫navillera by gfriend

warnings — bucky barnes is a sweetheart, part of a dark AU, mentions of Hydra a/n — navillera is a korean phrase meaning ‘like a butterfly’, so i thought it suited. thank you so much for your ask, it inspired this oneshot! hope you enjoy a little peace before our next part comes out.

“Steve, there’s something more to this.” Bucky rapped his flesh fingers against the back of his metal hand, shoulders tensed as he looked out the car window, the sky dark. Shadows cast across his face, emanating his worries easily with the subtle light of the moon.

Normally, he rode his bike to the compound before a mission, but this one had been urgent so Steve had picked him up, and now was stuck with dropping him home.

Steve sighed, both hands gripping the wheel. Both men were tense. “Buck. We really shouldn’t be talking about this–”

“The base wasn’t just empty, it was stripped bare. Someone cleaned house.” Bucky chewed on his lower lip as they passed by familiar streets, one’s he often walked with you. It felt dirty to be thinking about work in the area he considered your domain. Bucky liked to keep work and private life separate, although the edges seemed to be bleeding more and more.

Lately, he’d had a lot more late nights and sudden missions as a string of ex-Hydra bases were ransacked by unknown assailants. It was concerning enough to have someone interested in old Hydra assets, and even more worrying with no idea as to why.

The world was better off without the tentacles of Hydra swirling below the surface, but it seemed some people didn’t agree with that sentiment.

“We shouldn’t be talking about this. It’s classified. We need to be in a secure facility.” Steve was clearly growing more irritated, but Bucky knew the stem of that annoyance was the same as his – they didn’t know who was doing this, and what their motive was.

“You sound like Tony,” Bucky sniped before he could think better of it.

Steve inhaled sharply, shooting Bucky a look. It had Bucky curling a little into his seat. “Sorry. You just know it’s weird and there’s something big we’re missing. Hydra is gone, so why would someone care about their old junk?”

“I don’t know, Buck. But I intend to find out,” Steve said with finality as he pulled up outside your apartment building. “Either way, it’ll be fine. Hydra died the same day the Triskelion fell. Now go get some rest, you look like shit.”

“Is that an order, Captain?” Bucky chuckled dryly, his eyes lingering on the high up window with the open curtains – his apartment. The four walls didn’t weren’t what made it his home – you were. Becca had always told him home was where the heart is, and his heart was always with you. You were his home. His safety blanket. His everything.

“Stop being a jerk and get out of my car. Your girl needs you,” Steve gently pushed at Bucky’s shoulder, an air of ease between them.

Bucky opened the car door, sliding out, but not without sticking his head in to have the last word. “Fine, punk. But keep me in the loop.”

Steve just nodded, affection in his expression. Bucky smiled as he shut the passenger door. The world was certainly different from the one they’d grown up knowing, but after everything it was nice to still have his best friend.

Bucky didn’t look back as Steve drove off, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats as he ambled his way up to the apartment. He felt relaxed coming home. He was finally able to live the life he had been so vehemently denied of by his captors.

It was hard not to think about the past. In the years since his freedom, Bucky had mourned the loss of his life in the 40’s, dealt with the shame and guilt of his actions as the Winter Soldier, and now dealt with the anxiety of the modern world. He’d chosen not to share the gory details of his actions as the Winter Soldier with you, and while you’d never pressed, he could see that curious look you gave him. But if he told you he was a ruthless killer, would you leave? The logical part of his brain said no, you’d work through it with him. But the gripping fear that you would leave was too much to bear.

So instead, he let you live in an oblivious bubble, with only trickles of information coming through. It was safer that way. You wouldn’t be a target when you didn’t know anything.

Bucky’s keys jingled as he opened the front door, undoing the multiple locks he’d had installed when he first moved in. The apartment was dark, only a soft light emanating from the television that was running repeats of some crime show Bucky knew you liked. 

A soft chuckle left Bucky as he sighted you cuddled up on the couch, strewn across the cushions with a few blankets piled on top of you, and Alpine perched happily atop your chest. Your chest rose and fell slowly, a little snore sounding with each few breaths.

Guilt began to nibble at Bucky. You’d stayed up for him. He hadn’t given you an estimated time back since he didn’t know when the mission would be over, but he knew you, and he was certain you would have had little sleep while he was away, always waiting for the front door to open.

Ignoring the empty ice cream container and takeout on the table - a problem for another time - Bucky made his way through the mountain of coziness so he could pick you up. 

Bucky’s arms looped under you, lifting you and Alpine in one scoop. Alpine mewed softly, which Bucky quickly shushed in response, not wanting you to wake. You stirred in his hold, but luckily stayed asleep. 

Unable to help himself, Bucky placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving to the bedroom. With the utmost care and caution, Bucky placed you down into the soft covers of the bed, tucking you in tight so you wouldn’t feel the chill of the night's air.

Within minutes, Bucky was undressed and ready to join you, left in nothing but his dog tags. He’d showered at the compound after the mission, since he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from cuddling you the moment he set eyes on you.

Bucky climbed into bed next to you, pulling you close to spoon you while he propped his head up on his metal hand to watch you, Alpine snuggled close to your stomach. He placed his flesh hand on your chest, feeling the soft thrum of your heart through his palm. Nothing could ground him like you did. Bucky smiled, placing a kiss to your shoulder and head, allowing himself a moment of reprieve in your familiar scent.

Everything about you was just comfort. You were a beauty inside and out that Bucky felt privileged to witness. Each night, he could bid the moon goodnight knowing there were good, pure people like you in the world. 

At first, he’d hated the modern world. But when he’d met you, he’d started to think it might not be all bad.

He’d be with Steve until the end of the line, but with you, he’d be with you eternally. Even if the world ended, if everything just ceased, you’d still own his heart. The love he felt transcended the mortal realm, and was something more than he’d ever understand.

Bucky’s eyes traced your form, taking in each intricate detail of your face. Becca and his Ma would have loved you, he was sure of it. His sister would have undoubtedly given him flack for pulling a girl so sweet and stunning, and his mother would have treated you like the second daughter she never had. Bucky felt a twang in his heart that he couldn’t give you the loving family you deserved.

“Bucky.” Your dreary voice snapped Bucky back to reality, as if you knew his mind was beginning to spiral. “I love you.”

Bucky let his head rest on the pillow next to yours, but not without placing a kiss to your shoulder first. “I love you too.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #navybrat writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky #fanfiction

[bvtbxtch]

White Knuckles and Red Hearts | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

a cute little (I don't know what this work means, the fic is 3.9k words) oneshot for valentines day <3 IT STILL COUNTS BECAUSE ITS FEBRUARY

You had been paired together in Home Ec. You were making eclairs. Everyone else in your class sneered at him, hoping - praying - that they wouldn’t have to be in the same workspace as the freak of Hawkins High. Sure, you didn’t jump for joy when you met him in your designated kitchen space, but you gave him a warm smile and introduced yourself. From that moment on, your name rang through his mind like church bells. His hands shook when the two of you measured ingredients, but you quickly put him at ease with your effortless friendliness.

“So, eclairs huh… have you ever made them before?” You smiled over the metal bowl filled with various dry ingredients. 

“Ahh, can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. Don’t find a lot of fancy baking in the trailer park. But I did spend about 10 minutes in a French class before I was kicked out so I do know that it’s french.” Eddie jousted back with a dry laugh. 

“That’s where I knew you from! Your face looked so familiar to me!” You giggled. Eddie’s cheeks bloomed a glowing red. Your smile grew and you peeled your eyes away from him to form your choux. 

“You know, in French eclair means flash.” You babbled. Eddie could see your cheeks were turning a darker pink than the rouge already donning your apples. Eddie wanted to listen to you talk forever. “They say it’s because the glaze on the top of them… or because people eat them so quickly, they’re gone in a flash!” You both looked up and locked eyes. You suddenly felt shy. Stupid under the glow of the big brown doe eyes peering down at you. How the hell did anyone think that this person in front of you was a freak, was dangerous, wasn’t worth friends?

“Sorry, I’m babbling now.” You turned away to begin whipping cream while Eddie had begun to boil water.

“No, no! Babble away! You have interesting stories.” Eddie praised. 

The rest of the afternoon flew by as the two of you laughed, stole spoonfuls of chocolate, and filled your delicate pastries with sweet cream. The bell dismissing the students from their last period of the day startled the two of you out of your dream world. You handed Eddie the last bowl that needed to be put away and wiped your wet hands on your jeans. 

“Well, thanks for being a great home ec partner, Eddie. If we get to pick our people next time, we should work together again.” You smiled and squeezed his shoulder as you breezed past him to grab your backpack. You flashed him another smile and waved at the door. Eddie felt his knees buckle. You were beautiful; Eddie had noticed you at the beginning of the semester, in awe of how simple and easy you made beauty look. You weren’t popular by any means, but as a member of the drama club, you had a great group of friends. Eddie couldn’t imagine why you would want anything to do with him.

DnD wasn’t the same; Eddie’s mind was not fully immersed in the world he had created. Usually charismatic and intense, he was tripping on words, forgetting important details he had set up last session. His mind was transfixed on you. God, he felt pathetic. You were the first girl that wasn’t in Hellfire or wasn’t trying to get free weed from him to be nice to you. Was that all this was? Was he that pathetic that he was going to fall in love with any girl who was nice to him? Surely not. You were different. Not every girl had glowing eyes like you did; nor did they have such a friendly smile, and the slightest dusting of freckles across their cheeks like yours. They didn’t genuinely laugh at his jokes or touched his arm like you did. You weren’t petty or rude or hung out with him as a joke or-

“Dude!” A squeaky voice rang out, interrupting his daydreams of your interactions. “I rolled a 16 does that hit or not?!” Dustin Henderson was not a patient person on a normal day, but now, the third time he had to snap Eddie out of whatever coma he was in, he was rapidly growing angrier by the second.

“Uh- yeah.. How many hit points does it take?” Eddie mumbled. 

Within 25 minutes, the whole Hellfire party had surrendered to their DM, ending the session 40 minutes before their scheduled end. With a frustrated huff, the gaggle of high schoolers exited the stuffy prop room and into the dim hallways. 

February rain was not uncommon in Hawkins. It had caught you off guard though. In typical midwest fashion, the morning had started out mild and sunny. Now, at 5:45 when you were attempting to flee the grip of Hawkins High and make the 10 minute walk to the comfort of your own home, you were met with sleet and rain. You paused at the thick glass doors keeping you warm and dry and let out a long sigh that clouded the vision in front of you. You shrugged your shoulders and pushed through the doors into the cold, wet parking lot. You were kept warm by the thought of seeing an outlandish metalhead in the morning. You had to admit, you had been scared by Eddie Munson. His hard shell deterred many people away, but when you were given the opportunity to get to know him today, you penetrated right through to his soft center. You had to stay after school to direct for the one act festival next month, but like Eddie, your mind was transfixed on your home ec partner. You replayed your conversations in your head as you headed to the main street that dissected the community of little houses and the high school field. You shivered into your jean jacket, cursing the fact that your fashion choices weren’t practical at all for a rainstorm in February. Your eyes stayed glued to the pavement in fear that your face would freeze solid if you looked against the wind. Your hair stuck to the sides of your cheeks. You moved your legs as fast as they would carry you.

Eddie jogged out to his van, now covered in frosted rain drops. The short jaunt already had made his hair heavy with moisture and left a shiver in his spine. His engine lazily sputtered to life and he tore out of the school’s parking lot. He couldn’t wait to get home to pick up his guitar and write you forbidden love songs you would never hear. His headlights pelted through the thick, icy rain. God it was miserable. As he rounded the corner of yet another sleepy avenue, he slowed his van and pulled to the side of the road. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief as he stared at your hunched over figure fighting through the storm (and very obviously losing). He pulled his rusted van over to the sidewalk just ahead of where you were trudging. You stopped and squinted towards the rusty Chevrolet Astro and the curly haired driver that was looking at you with his beautiful, yet worried, eyes. You could see Eddie’s tongue poke out of his mouth as he reached over to the passenger side of his van to unlatch the door. 

“Hey, Y/N! Are you okay?” The boy had to yell to be heard over the pelting rain and the rattle of his exhaust pipe. “Do you need a lift?”

Your heartbeat quickened and your cheeks grew warm. You smiled at him sweetly. “It’s okay, Eddie. It's only a few more blocks to my house.”

“Are you sure? It’s terrible outside. I really don’t mind!” You paused in contemplation. Did you know Eddie well enough to get into his van? Most of your friends would say no, but you felt like you’d known him for a long time. You felt safe around him. So you shrugged your shoulders and hopped into his van with a small ‘thank you’ leaving your lips. A sudden wave of bashfulness hit you after you gave Eddie approximate direction to your house. 

“I-I usually just walk, you know? It was so nice this morning, but…” you ended in a curt giggle, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in embarrassment. It made Eddie’s dimples sprout on each of his cheeks, like you had seen for the first time this afternoon. 

“Well a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking at all! Let alone in weather like this!” Fuck. His lips moved before his brain could catch up and stop him. His eyes grew double in size and it was his turn for his cheeks to turn a bold red. “Sorry I didn’t mean- I mean-”

“It's okay Eddie.” You turned your head away from him to stifle your grin. “I appreciate the ride”

It felt like no time before Eddie pulled up to your house.

“Thank you again, so much for the ride. That was so sweet of you.” That damned shoulder touch again. The warmth from the hand around his jean jacketed shoulder sent molten lava straight to his heart. 

“Hey,” he choked. He ravaged his cluttered console for an old napkin and a sharpie. He hastily scribbled his digits on the napkin and shoved it towards you, eyes glued to his knees. 

“Here, take this, just in case you get caught in this shit weather again.” He didn’t feel your fingers take the paper. He peered up at you, cheeks bright red and brown eyes bright with rejection already. “You know, I just-I don’t mind driving you, you know? It’s strictly just-” He was interrupted by your soft hand around his wrist.

“Eddie” you cooed as you took the wrinkled paper from his hand. “You are the sweetest. Of course I’ll take it. I really appreciate it.” Your eyes locked with him and you felt electricity surge from him to you. You released your grip with a blush and backed away from his van.

“Maybe I can call you about some home ec homework too?” Eddie thought his chest was going to burst out of his chest. 

“Y-yeah, doll. That would be great.”

He watched to make sure you got into your house, and left only when you flashed him a smile and wave from your door. He drove home smitten, still smelling your perfume, feeling your warmth from the empty seat beside him. Blissful giggles escaped his lips. 

-

The shrill ring of the telephone startled Eddie out of his daze and brushed through the cloud in his room to the hallway. He picked up the phone and answered with a lazy ‘hey’. His throat closed when he heard your voice peep on the other end of the line. \

“Hey, Eddie. I-is this a bad time?” Yes. Eddie thought. He was just starting to feel his buzz, now he felt like he was going to have a heart attack.

“No! No not at all! What’s up, Y/N?” His baritone voice went straight to the butterflies in your stomach. You took a deep breath to ground yourself. You could hardly believe what he was doing to you. Yesterday, Eddie was a stranger to you, someone that was interesting to look at, but you hadn’t dared interact with him - he was too cool for you. 

“I-I’m so sorry to ask this… but I think I left my history textbook in your van from this afternoon. I am so sorry but is there any way I can come pick it up or you could-”

“Oh! Yeah I will bring it to you, no problem!” Eddie choked. Your stomach sank in excitement.

“Oh, great, thank you so much!”

“I’ll be there in 10” Eddie hung up the phone before you could let out another apologetic thank you. You bit at your nails in selfish excitement. 

Eddie raced through the darkening streets of Hawkins. He remembered where you lived like the back of his hand: past the school three blocks, to the left, then take a right and you were almost at the end of the street. Luckily the storm  His headlights pulled up to the sidewalk in front of your house, like he did earlier that afternoon. To his surprise, he saw the upstairs window on the second floor illuminated with your excited figure. You sheepishly slid the window open and crawled through it and shimmied down the ivied siding. You trotted up to Eddie’s unrolled passenger window. 

“Hey, Eddie. Thank you so much!”

“No problem. Front door broken?” Eddie chuckled. 

“Nah, strict parents make for sneaky kids.” You wagged your eyebrows at him. You boldly opened his passenger door and snaked into the seat. Eddie’s cheeks grew warm with yours as your bodies were now closer (but not as close as you both craved). He sheepishly handed you your textbook, which you pulled to your chest.

“Thanks, Eddie.” you peeped. A sudden burst of courage hit you, and although your hands felt numb, you took a breath and let the words escape your mouth. “I need to tell you, I don’t think that you’re crazy and weird like people say.” You dared to look into his soft, dark eyes. “I think you’re really sweet, and funny. And it really sucks that Hawkins is too small minded to see how great you are.” You leaned over and gave him a sweet peck on the cheek before hopping out of the passenger seat. Eddie wanted to pull you back to him, to grab your face and press his lips to yours; but he was frozen in shock. He would have never imagined you ever wanting to talk to him again, let alone thinking he was a good guy AND pressing your perfect pout to his cheek?

“Thank you again, Eddie, for driving all the way over here. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He mustered up the strength to break out of his daze. “Yeah, doll. I’ll see you then”

With silent smiles, Eddie watched you retreat back up the siding of your house back through your window, pausing to look back at him. 

Eddie drove home with a smile plastered to his face. 

-

The second week of February was filled with stolen glances in the busy hallways of Hawkins High. Your home economics classes flew by, papers being graffitied with notes and doodles passed between the two of you. Your dreams were filled with Eddie. Every second or third comment to your regular grouping of lunch buddies was something that the metalhead said or did or comments that reminded you of him; But you didn’t dare disturb him and his gaggle of Hellfire-clad freshmen; just like he knew he would warrant a death wish by coming to speak to you and your friends. So, you kept your little slice of heaven to blushing smiles, secret notes, and your home ec class.

When the two of you both found yourselves at school late (which both of you were finding more excuses, Eddie would offer to drive you home. You would sheepishly follow him through the parking lot and take (what Eddie will now permanently hope is) your spot in his rusty van. You were scared to admit it to Eddie, but it was easy for your own revelation: Eddie was very quickly becoming your comfort person.

February 14th was usually a day that reaffirmed that Eddie was destined for a life of loneliness in Hawkins, Indiana. Until, he pried open his overfull locker and was greeted with a small green note with his name neatly printed on it. 

“Eddie. Thank you for being such a great person to be around. I hope you have a great day - just like the rest. You deserve them.”

Under the message, your name sat with a small heart scribbled next to it. Eddie’s cheeks burnt a furious red. His big brown eyes scanned the hallway desperately, hoping to spot your bouncy curls, or hear your infectious laugh; but to no avail. He trudged through the halls. He strode up to Chrissy Cunningham and her gaggle of cheerleaders - your normal crowd.

“Hey Chrissy.”

“Oh- uh, Eddie?” The metalhead could tell that he had caught the girl off guard.

“Sorry, don’t mean to bother you in your natural habitat” the girls shifted uneasily. “But do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her… about home ec homework.” He wavered over his lie, and Chrissy caught the note grasped tightly in his hand. 

“I haven’t seen her yet today.” The girl gave a polite but curt answer. The group dissipated, but Chrissy offered a light touch on his shoulder. “When I see her, I’ll let her know you need to talk to her.” With her words ringing in his ear, and the shrill warning of the morning bell, Eddie was alone in the hallway with his lovestruck mind. He decided to do what he did every time he was in crisis: go to the bleachers and make himself forget about all the shit that was worrying him. He spent the morning outside, but by the end of the day Eddie had spent his time either thinking about you, or tracing every inch of the school looking for you.

You had stayed home, school feeling less than ideal today. You had stuffed the note in Eddie’s locker at the end of the day - opting to stay even later than he did and walked yourself home. You didn’t sleep all night, and could barely get any food down today. Would he understand? You were only bold enough to make a move in subtleties. Would he care? 

Eddie gripped his steering wheel with white knuckles. It was a drive that he wished was both over already and would never end. It was a short drive to your house from Forest Hills Trailer Park. Eddie had called Hellfire off and beelined out of the school when he found out you hadn’t shown up at all. He felt he had paced a trench in his bedroom floor debating whether or not he should go to your house. What if the letter was a mistake? Or if you were only reaffirming you only liked him as a friend? When the clock hit 9:30pm, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his keys from the hook by the door and trotted down the concrete steps. When the van rumbled to a start, he turned the radio fully off, too tempted to be absorbed in his own thoughts. The streetlights of your neighborhood illuminated the small red heart box and the humble bouquet of roses that sat where you normally did. Eddie chewed on his lip so hard he thought he tasted blood. His brakes squealed to a halt on the sidewalk outside of your tidy little house. He had hoped that the light in your bedroom would be off, so he could wimp out and go home and hide in his bed forever. But his heart skipped an excited beat when he saw the light in the window you had crawled out of a week ago was on, and it illuminated your figure moving through your room.His breath caught in his throat as he turned the key in his ignition and grabbed his wares to begin his journey up the ivy siding to your window. 

-

You had hid yourself away in your room - cassettes, VCRs and books being your welcome distraction from your anxious heart. A tap on your window pulled you from Madonna’s breathy whines about living in a material world. Your heart dropped to your knees when you saw a mop of dark ringlets framing an alabaster face. Eddie’s eyes were wider than you have ever seen them, but filled with an unreadable haze. You rushed to the window and let the boy fall into your room. He straightened himself up with a nervous smile, you returned the sentiment. His hands stayed fixed behind his long body. He shifted his weight, but couldn’t help but inch closer to you as well. 

“Hey” he peeped

“Hi, Eddie. What are you-”

“I-uh. I got your note.”

Your breath hitched and it was your turn to shift your weight. The spot on your carpet was suddenly too tempting to look at than Eddie’s face. His hands obscured his vision. In them you saw a small red box, and flowers. You looked up at Eddie with confused excitement; his face was warm, cheeks blushing. 

“I looked for you all day at school today because I wanted to ask you if you’d be my-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you threw yourself into his arms. Your cheek could feel the pounding in his chest and he stood in shock. 

“Of course I will, Eddie.” You breathed into him. You pulled yourself away from him and took the flowers from his hand. You placed them on your desk with a giggle. You turned to see the open box that Eddie had in his hand. In it laid a small chain with a pink and purple guitar pick. You gasped in awe and your eyes filled with tears. 

“I thought, since I have one-” he pulled a red and black pick on a chain out of his Dio tee. “We could kind of match.” Eddie’s voice shook. His cheeks matched the red on his own necklace. You pulled him to you and pecked your plumped lips against his cheek. Eddie chuckled as he spun you to put your new favorite piece of jewelry on you. Eddie clasped the metal and ran his hands down your arms. 

“Let me take you on a date, please?” He whispered. His hands sent shivers throughout your body. His lips pursed on the top of your head and you wished you could stay in this moment forever. You turned in his arms and draped yourself around his neck. His arms migrated from your arms to your cheeks. His doe eyes were dark with admiration, he wanted to devour you whole, but he waited, silently asking for permission to press his lips to yours. You silently obliged him and tilted your chin up to him. His soft lips met yours and the world slowed. His thumb traced small grounding circles on your jaw. Your insides filled with molten, a desperation for the moment to never stop. Eddie’s soft lips probed yours, lightly asking for permission to deepen your kiss. You permitted him with a content sigh and let Eddie show you just how much he really cared about you. All of the words he was too afraid to say to you, all of the times he wished that he could sweep you off your feet and kiss you in front of everyone. For the thank you he couldn’t give you for the note you left him. For the times he wanted to ask you out in his van, or the time he desperately wanted to tuck your wet hair behind your ear the first day he drove you home. He poured all his heart out to you and you felt it. You pulled away softly with wet eyes. 

“Eddie, I would be honored.”

-

Taglist: @eddies-acousticguitar @mmunson86 @sadbitchfangirl @hideoutside @anxiousobserver @ali-r3n @brinleighsstuff @filth-fiction-archive @vintagehellfire @kirstinjayjay @darknesseddiem @poofyloofy @sluggzillaa @aol19 @dark-angel-is-back @keikoraven @emxxblog @adrenalineeerevolver @crybabyddl @lovemegood @cherry-pop3547 @cozmiccass @leelei1980 @trixyvixx @skylar-ish-meh @harrysgothicbitch @emsgoodthinkin @micheledawn1975 @thehuntresswolf @girlwiththerubyslippers @blueberry-lemon

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson ff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson edit #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson brainrot #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson ficlet #carly writes

[chronicbeans]

what if wally was the puppeteer and y/n was a puppet (yes, i am proposing a roleswap)

Hmmm... Interesting...

Puppeteer Wally and Puppet Reader

TW: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Kidnapping

🍎 His coworkers found it odd... He kept talking to you during recordings for the show. After he was done recording, he would take you to his little office, put you in his lap, and pat your head. He would even brush your hair, if you had any. He'd dress you up and speak to you as if you were the most prized thing in his eyes. Sometimes it even bordered on romantic, making many people who walked in on him uncomfortable.

🍎 That was BEFORE you gained sentience, speech, etc. Now that you have, everything is upped to 100 on his end. You act exactly as he imagined! So sweet and adorable! The best part is, you can't necessarily LEAVE him. Where would you go? To your voice actor/actress? They'll SCREAM if they saw you! Not Wally, though! He'll treat you with all the love and care in the world.

🍎 If he gets desperate, he will gladly just steal you. He can cut the security cameras off, put you in a little box and lock it, then drive you to his home! Nobody will know, because nobody will expect it! Maybe some will, but he has always said that if you ever went missing, he would scream and cry in disdain. So, he can put up a little act tomorrow. That should remove some suspicion, because there would be no reason for him to cry and scream in he knew where you were. The boss could just have another puppet made.

🍎 With you safely in his grasp, he'll continue to care for you as he always has. He'll carry you around like a doll, most likely with you flailing around in his arms, as he does his daily tasks. He'll make you some clothes for you to wear, too! You deserve to feel as pretty/handsome/adorable as you really are! Then, every night, he'll hold you close as he falls asleep.

🍎 Really, the only hope you would have for escape if it ever came to him taking you home is to wait until he goes to work. Maybe you could escape through a window, or something, while he is gone?

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader

[strawberrysturniolo]

never grow up part nine

summary: after the same back and forth for six months, sunny finally decides its enough, until she's given the same hopeful moment again

part eight

Chris and I will never see a day where we aren’t best friends. No matter what our relationship or our friendship levels out as, I know he would take a bullet for me, and I can’t imagine a world where I don’t look for him first in a crowded room. 

Of all the people I meet in my life, it all goes back to him. Every friend I make, every boy I meet, every person I try to love, they will never be him. It’s not even comparable. It will never be a fair battle. It will always be him. 

The last six months have been eventful to say the least. 

I turned 22. I celebrated in Boston. Chris wasn’t there. Said something about wanting to come and making an effort to fly back out. Last minute he said he couldn’t because he had to work. I said whatever, got mad for a bit, then got over it and got drunk with my friends. 

I drunk called him, weeping some bullshit about how my birthday is never the same when he isn’t with me. Cried over how badly I wished he would move back home. He may have cried a little too, but I was too drunk to notice anything other than the pain in my chest from him being gone and the nausea coursing through my body as I held back every gag.

He apologized profusely, promising that he would make it up to me. The same broken promise I’ve lived with for three years now. 

I shouted at him and told him to stop lying to me. He insisted that he was being honest. He promised that things would be different. They never were. 

I slept with someone else. Had a short fling with someone that I thought could pull me out of the rut I was in, only to realize it was making me feel worse. Every time we fucked I imagined it was Chris. I then felt like shit because I knew it wasn’t fair to either of them, nor was it fair to me. I couldn’t move on. I was stuck on someone who couldn’t make up his mind. 

Chris kept promising that we would end up together. Maybe he was right. I was getting too dizzy and exhausted going around in that whirlwind to even let myself be optimistic about our future. 

I can’t keep waiting. I know he’s what I want, but I can’t put my life on hold for someone who isn’t sure of me. 

So, I called it quits. Told him straight up, I can’t do it anymore. No more back and forth. We go back to being friends and only friends. I cut the ties that he had knotted between us, forcing us to stay attached no matter how hard we pulled. I always fell to my feet and he dragged me through the fucking dirt and I got up, dusted my pants, and let him do it over again. I took the sharpest scissors I could find and cut it in half, sawed at it until my hands bled, and watched him walk away and leave me behind, because finally, I wasn’t attached anymore. 

I’ve managed to be okay with calling him my best friend with no underlying meaning. I’ve buried that higher level of us so low in myself that I can look at him across the country and feel nothing but friendship. I like it that way. 

I’m graduating today. 

Four years of college, stress, and long nights are over.

I let my mom curl my hair, let her pamper me and make me feel like a kid again before it all flies out the window. She puts gentle braids in my hair and curls the strands that fall down my back. She tells me to pucker my lips, and she swipes lipstick over them, making me feel like a little girl playing in her moms makeup again. 

“How excited are you for today?” she asked me with a smile.

I smack my lips together, coating the lipstick over every inch. “More nervous than anything. It’s awkward. I just want to get it over with.”

She frowns at me. “You’ll remember this day forever, I know it,” she promises, and I let her think she’s right. 

My mom and dad drove me to my school for graduation. I had one other ticket available, which I extended to Mary Lou, hoping she would make it. I grew up with her like a second mom to me, or maybe an aunt considering how close she is to my mother. Either way, she’s family. Always will be no matter how stupid her son can be at times. 

When I sat in a folded chair in the middle of an auditorium and waited for us to line up, I turned around and found an empty seat next to my parents. 

I for sure thought she would be here. She never missed an event for me. She was there for every sporting event, every birthday party growing up, everything. She wouldn’t leave me hanging like that. 

It was empty when I crossed that stage, and it was empty when I sat back down. 

I don’t know why it hurt so bad. Maybe she had something come up. Maybe she got stuck in traffic. 

All I knew is that I wanted at least one Sturniolo there. And I kept getting let down. 

The long day had finally come to an end, and I searched for my parents in the cattle of students and families trying to find each other after the ceremony. 

“At least one of us graduated.”

My feet halted. I froze, not even able to bring myself to turn around and search for the voice that I knew all too well.

“Do you think you could copy that paper?” he asked next. I turned around, and the first thing he did was take the book from my hands. He opened it up and inspected my diploma inside. “My mom would love to have this on her fridge. Oh! By the way. She couldn’t make it, so she sent me instead.”

I swallowed, suddenly nervous, like he wasn’t real.

He grinned at me, the same cheesy, childish, and adorable grin I’ve watched remain the same while the rest of his face aged as we grew older. 

“Give me a hug, Sunny,” he sighed. “I just flew the whole day away to be here. Think you can crack my back too? It’s killing me.”

My first instinct was to punch his shoulder, playfully of course. He let out a fake wince before grabbing my arm and pulling me into him.

My head nuzzled into his neck out of instinct. That spot was made for me.

“What are you doing here?” I managed to get out.

He laughed. “What a dumb question. I’m here for you, you goof. You thought I’d miss this?”

I pulled back, looking at him closely, like he was something from a dream. He straightened the cap on my head like he found all of this entertaining. “You weren’t here during the ceremony. I looked for your mom, and the seat was empty.”

“I got here on time. I promise,” he assured me. “I waited up top so you wouldn’t see me until now, but trust me, I got here and saw everything. I have pictures and videos to prove it.”

He pulled his phone out and swiped through his camera roll, which were screenshots of me walking across the stage while the rest of his family watched through FaceTime, cheering me on from home. 

My eyes welled up, unsure of my emotions at the moment. All I knew was I was feeling something, and crying seemed like the only logical answer.

He held my chin and pulled me to look at him, wiping my tears once my gaze settled on him. 

“I came, Sunshine,” he nodded. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. You’re my number one girl, always.”

My lip trembled at his promise, seeing that he kept it. He shook his head at me, silently telling me to stop it, that him being here wasn’t supposed to make me upset. He wrapped an arm around me and led me to my parents instead, letting me stand awkwardly in photos with the three of them as they gushed and let out their excitement for me.

We all went to lunch after, nothing fancy, but we were together, and that was enough. 

Chris came back to my apartment with me, which was now boxed up as our lease was coming to an end. I managed to find somewhere for us to sit comfortably in the clutter and eat our leftovers for dinner in my home. 

We talked about the last six months – our lives, things we’ve done, what we missed out on.  

“Did I surprise you?” he smiled. 

I nodded. “Yeah, especially since I haven’t heard from you in a week.”

He sighed. “I’m trying, I really am.”

I shrugged, tired of this already. “Can we just drop it?”

“No, we can’t,” he insisted. He grabbed my thighs and turned me towards him, and I hate the way my body sparked when his hands were on me again. “I love you, no matter what, you know this. Stop making me feel like you don’t love me anymore.”

I don’t respond.

“Do you still love me?” he asked, now worried. His face softened enough to prove that. 

“You know I do,” I mumbled. “Stop making me say it. It upsets me. It hurts, actually.”

“Well it hurts me that you don’t want to say it to me, because I would do anything to make you know I love you.”

Something in me snaps, because his answer isn’t fully true, and we both know that. 

“Then maybe that’s all we know how to do,” I throw at him. “We hurt each other but promise to be with each other somehow for the rest of our lives. And you know what, Chris? I know for a fact I’ll be at your wedding, but the idea of being there in any other dress other than the white one I’ve had picked out since I was twelve keeps me up at night. And the idea of walking down the aisle and not being the one makes you cry makes me fucking vomit. So please, for me, make up your fucking mind. Stop playing these games with me.”

He kisses me after that, and I want to push him off, but my body has a natural reaction to him.

My hands find his cheeks and I pull him closer. My fingers eventually thread through his hair and pull on him until my back is pressed to the tile of the kitchen floor and his hands are on my waist, but we know it can’t go further because there’s nothing sexy about us fucking on my floor with boxes surrounding us. 

He pulls back, catches his breath, and says, “No more games.”

I believe him, and I regret how quickly I do. “No more?”

“No more,” he repeats. “You and me. That’s all that matters.” 

tag list: @ev3rgreenxtrees @thottie777 @plasticferal @angelworldspost @alluringsturniolo @sturniolho @sturniolopowers @sleepysturnss @sturniolovoid @sturnslcver @gamermattsgf @freshluv @flowerxbunnie @luverboychris @luvsturniolo @lacysturniolo @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @christinarowie332 @bernardenjoyer @bellybumm @nicksbf @n6ptunova @mbbsgf @mattsneezing @mangoposts @mattitties

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #strawberrysturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #Spotify

[bidisasterevankinard]

I can't imagine a world with you gone

bucktommy / T / 3981

Buck was happy with Tommy and he wanted him to know it. He wanted to tell Tommy in words how he felt about him. But of course the moment Buck said the words “I’m happy”, universe said “Fuck you”. In the worst way possible. Or Buck has to see how universe tries to take Tommy from him.

(text under cut)

Buck never was so happy as the months he was dating Tommy. He never felt so settled in his skin and relationships, even in way longer relationships with Taylor he was missing part of himself. And it wasn't connected so much with the thing that he dated the man now. It was because for the first time Buck stopped feeling like he was trying too hard to play his part. Like somewhere his girlfriends left him the script he should have followed, but he never read it and always felt lost with them.

With Tommy he felt in his place. Like he finally belongs. Like he can finally do something right, because Tommy likes him despite his flaws, that the man had seen more and more with time passing, choosing to stay anyway. Tommy stayed even after Buck told him, or more like stuttered over every word, why he didn’t like the idea of seeing his parents again, how he wanted them to somehow not to be at the wedding, how he wanted just some more time before he would come out to them telling them about his bisexuality. 

The older man just hugged him, kissed his forehead and told him he shouldn’t feel bad about his parents' mistakes. But he also shouldn’t come out to them if he’s not ready. Tommy said that they could be “just friends” at the wedding. Buck looked at him like he was something else, something absolutely surreal. Not only Tommy wasn’t running from him because of his family drama, he gave him the way to hold the old mask in front of them longer.

Yet, Buck didn’t want it. When he saw the support and something so tender in Tommy’s clean sky eyes, he knew he would come out to them before the wedding. And he did. During the dinner on their first night in LA he looked at them and introduced them to his boyfriend, holding his big hand for support.

Since then their relationships have only gotten stronger. Buck met Tommy’s friends and family, found some stories about Tommy’s past in the 118, army and 217. Heard about some exes Tommy had. But most importantly he began to find out more and more details about what kind of person Tommy is now, falling in love with him every day. 

At their anniversary of the kiss tomorrow, Buck decided to get Tommy to the restaurant the man wanted to try for so long, but couldn’t find the time. So Buck went “all Buck” and found the way to book a table to woo his man on such an important day for them.

Buck was happy with Tommy and he wanted him to know it. He wanted to tell Tommy in words how he felt about him. But of course the moment Buck said the words “I’m happy”, universe said “Fuck you”. 

In the worst way possible.

It started as a big fire at the warehouse where some people were lost. It was just Buck’s call then. But they needed the help of more people, so Tommy’s station came to help, not just with air support, but with leaving some firefighters behind. 

Buck finds out Tommy is one of them already inside the warehouse, where he and Eddie found their victims and is ready to get them out. Tommy’s voice over the radio confirms the order to check the delta zone, and Buck can’t help but feel a strange weight on his heart. As if he should be shouting at Tommy to stay outside. He puts it down to the fact that he is not used to his boyfriend running into the fire like him, and not staying in helicopters skillfully piloting them.

Oh, how he is wrong.

He and Eddie are outside, passing their people to Hen and Chim, and fist bump each other, walking to Bobby, who listens to something said to him and pales. Buck already doesn't like it and he is ready to ask what is wrong when Bobby’s voice over the radio orders everyone to get out.

Everyone inside confirms it, and Buck is happy to hear Tommy too. He turns to the warehouse trying to see his boyfriend getting out when the worst happens.

Something explodes inside. And it explodes in the delta zone. In the zone where Tommy was. Buck for a few seconds can't even move, trying to make his eyes stop showing him a nightmare that can't be real. It can't be true. Tommy can't be in danger in a burning building. It's not true. Buck's just asleep and having a nightmare. He has to wake up. 

He. Has. To. Wake. Up.

But it’s real, he knows, when everyone around him goes loud, but he still can’t move. He hears Bobby order everyone who was inside to give him updates. One by one they confirm that they are going out. Everyone except Tommy.

“Firefighter Kinard, your status?” Bobby asks again, and Buck is pretty sure if he doesn’t not hear the answer this time, he will pass out because he is not breathing, scared to miss Tommy’s answer. He just listens, not breathing, not moving, only silently begging Tommy to answer. “Firefighter Kinard, what is your status?”

Nothing. Tommy still says nothing. 

The radio is silent. Someone starts saying something to Bobby, but Buck only listens when he hears Tommy’s name.

“Firefighter Kinard is still near the delta zone, but,” Buck’s heart misses a beat and he can see that Eddie near him doesn’t like where it goes too, “ he is not moving.” 

And that’s it. Buck fight or flight instinct kicks in, and the body and brain of first responder goes into action. He runs to the warehouse, but not even makes it half a way when strong hands behind him stop him, making him hit the person who dares to stop him from saving his boyfriend. 

“Buck stop,” the person screams at him.

It's Eddie. The traitor who doesn’t let him go and save his boyfriend is Eddie. 

“Stop it. You can’t help Tommy, when you don’t think straight,” Eddie pins him to his body, using all his power to hold Buck. “You don’t even have your mask and air tanks on you, how the hell are you going to go and save him? By killing yourself? Well, I will not let you. And Tommy wouldn’t let you too,” Eddie screams and Buck’s body goes weak. 

Eddie is right. His tank was empty so he took it off and his mask now possibly lays somewhere on the ground, where he lost it when couldn’t hold anything in his hands after he saw the explosion. 

“It’s Tommy, Eddie,” Buck turns his head to his best friend, not being strong enough to stop the tears from his eyes. “It’s Tommy. I-I should save him. I-I can’t lose him Eddie. Please I-I can’t,” he is crying and Eddie hugs him to his chest.

“I know, Buck. I know. Trust me I’m barely holding myself from running there too,” Buck hears in Eddie’s voice that it's true. Tommy and Eddie become friends quickly and they are close like all other 118 family members. Tommy means a lot to Eddie. 

“But we need to think straight,” Eddie’s voice becomes strict. It's the type of the voice Eddie uses on the worst call, when he tries hard to work with a cold head. “We need to let Bobby make the plan and let others save him.”

“B-but,” Buck tries to say it should be him who should save Tommy, but all the words are lost.

“You can’t help him now, Buck. Right now you should let other people help him,” Buck wants to cry from how right Eddie is. 

He knows deep down he is not even close to the head space where it would be safe for him to get into the burning building and save his boyfriend. He knows it's how it should be. But can’t just sit and wait for someone to save Tommy.

It should be him.

He again tries to fight Eddie, but the man overpowers him.

“Buck, I’ll sedate you if you do it again. Will be forever your number one enemy, but at least will save you.” 

Buck screams from pain hearing it.

“You-you never can be my enemy.” 

Eddie looks at him with so much pain in his eyes.

“If I don’t bring Tommy from there alive, save and sound, I’ll be.”

“Never,” Buck whispers, but Eddie hears it anyway. “You can never be my enemy. But please Eddie, please we need to find a way to get him out. And I need to be with you, please.”

Eddie nods.

“Grab the tanks, find a new mask and let’s hear what Bobby has for us.” 

They quickly do it all before coming back to Bobby. 

The man looks at Buck with so much emotion, Buck can’t look him in the eyes.

“I’m not sure I can let you inside, Buck,” Bobby’s captain's voice, yet with so much care, tells him that. “You and Tommy are in a relationship and we still don’t know what condition he can be in. I don’t want to risk anything.”

Buck begs, “Bobby, please, I…”

“You stay with Hen and Chim and let me and Eddie find him,” it’s said abruptly, without any of the care with which Bobby usually speaks, but Buck knows that the very fact that Bobby is putting him out of danger is an act of caring. He's just so angry at everything. He also is tired. So he just falls on his butt, hugging his knees, takes off his helmet and nods, already looking only at the doors from where he expects to see his boyfriend to get out.

It’s never happened, of course.

When Eddie and Bobby are almost out ready to go, he speaks with so much grief in his voice he doesn’t think he ever heard from himself, “Bring him back to me,” he looks them in the eyes. “Please bring him back to me. Alive.”

Buck knows they can’t promise anything, but Eddie still nods at him and Buck has never been so thankful to have him as best friend. 

Buck doesn’t know for how long he sits in the same position, probably no more than ten minutes, feeling how from time to time Chim and Hen glance at him for several seconds between moving to work on their next patients.

He knows they don’t just check to make sure he is not running in the building, but also because they are worried about him. Buck hates that, actually. It’s not him who is in danger in the burning building in who knows what condition. And Buck just sits there letting other people work to save his Tommy when he is first responder too. When he knows how to do the job, but he sits and waits, the only thing left for him it’s to hope. To hope that Bobby and Eddie will find Tommy soon and take him out so Buck can hug him hard and never let him out of his embrace.

He hopes to have a chance to hug and kiss Tommy again soon. He hopes to see his smile again. He hopes to have his boyfriend with him <i>alive</i>.

Familiar hands hug him and take his face in the crook of their neck and Buck only now understands that he was crying all this time. His tears run over his dirty cheeks. Feeling Athena’s powerful aura makes Buck feel a little bit better. He tries to take part of her strength she holds in all her body for himself.  He is also just simply seeking and thankful to feel all the maternal care she has for him right now.

“H-how are you…”Buck tries to gather his thoughts but they are as foggy as the air around them.

“Dispatch said they need more police for control. I was here for some time, and the moment I was free and wanted to find Bobby I saw you. Hen told me what happened. I’m so sorry Buck,” she hugs him tighter and he cries harder.

“I-I can’t lose him, Athena,”  he raises his gaze to her, seeing her face contorted in pain, surely only partially reflecting all the agonizing pain Buck is feeling right now. “He-he makes me feel alive. Really alive. For the first time in my life. He makes me happy and free. He-he… I just can’t lose him. I w-won’t survive it.”

Athena doesn’t say anything but she puts her hand on his head patting it with so much love, Buck cries more.

His chest hurts and he wants to scream how terrible the pain is, but screams are not coming. Because if he gives up to the pain, it will mean he gave up on Tommy and Buck will never dare to do it.

He will hope to the very end. He will hope till Bobby or the doctor will tell him otherwise. 

Bobby’s voice over the radio makes the pain worse and better at the same time.

“We have a firefighter down. He is pinned down and unconscious. Possible spinal and head injuries. We need another paramedic, jaws, C-collar and backboard in the hall between the delta zone and west exit.” 

He wants to run in the building again, but now it’s Athena, like Eddie before, who doesn't let him. Buck watches how Chim and Ravi run inside.

Next minutes somehow are worse and longer than the time he didn't know Tommy's condition. But then he sees his family running out of the building with his boyfriend on the backboard, still unconscious, but Buck can see how his chest is moving and for now it’s enough for him.

This time he doesn’t let anyone stop him from running to his Tommy, jumping in the ambulance with Chim and Hen. No one really stops him.

He takes as little space as he can, letting Chim and Hen work their magic, just holding Tommy’s hand, counting his pulse and trying to breathe in this rhythm.

He kisses dirty knuckles and sends all his strength and fight to his boyfriend.

“I know you're unconscious, but I don’t care. You will listen to me and you will do how I say,” Buck kisses the pulse point on Tommy’s hand. “You will fight every minute when we’ll pass you to the doctors. You will wake up after they’ll put you into your room and you’ll see me sitting near you and you’ll smile and I’ll kiss you. And then we will book the table in this restaurant I booked for us again and we will have another anniversary there,” Buck holds Tommy’s hand near his lips saying it. “You are not allowed to leave me, you hear me? I don’t allow you to leave me. You stuck with me Kinard. And I won’t let you stop fighting to come back to me,” Buck kisses ring finger. “One day I’ll put the ring here so you have to fight. For me. For yourself. For <i>us</i>. Please, Tommy, please. I can't imagine a world with you gone.”

He cries again, kissing Tommy’s hand till he has to let him go so doctors can save his heart. 

Time in the waiting rooms has been going on for an insanely long time. So long that Eddie has time to bring him a change of clothes and make him change in it and wash his face in the restroom. Bobby brings them food and coffee from the dinner near the hospital and all his family looks at him till he manages to swallow half of his portion. 

All he can do is look at the clock, counting minutes till some hours later the doctor comes to tell him that Tommy is fine. No spinal injury, just some bruise on his back, but his pinned hand needed surgery to fix it and Tommy would need a lot of PA. The man also has a lot of bruises, smoke inhalation and a gash on his head that's already been stitched up. But it doesn’t look like he has a concussion. He'll be kept overnight for observation, but he should be able to go home pretty soon.

Buck’s knees buckle under him, when the doctor says the last sentence and he lets the big cry escape him. Bobby and Eddie put him back up and move him to the room the doctor said belongs to the man.

He enters it alone, as the doctor said only one person can stay, and he tells Bobby and Eddie to go home. They hesitate.

“I’m going to be ok,” Buck says to them, but all his attention is already on the man in the bed. 

Buck hears the door closing when he is already near the bed, sitting on the uncomfortable chair, taking the hand he was holding in the ambulance in his. 

“Thank you, baby. Thank you for coming back to me,” Buck traces with his hand the wound on the head carefully and then kisses Tommy’s forehead. “Now rest, baby. I’ll be here.”

He gets as comfortable as he can in the chair, holding his thumb near Tommy’s pulse point and letting his body crash from exhaustion.

-

Buck wakes up hearing someone call him by the name. He opens his eyes, hissing from the pain in his neck, and he sees Tommy who is looking at him with a cute smile.

“You awake,” Buck kisses him, finally exhaling the last tension and pain from everything that happened yesterday.

“Yeah, I am,” Tommy looks at him like Buck puts the sun and stars on the skies. 

“What? Why do you look at me like that?”

“You stayed with me all night,” Tommy shrugs and then hisses. Buck rushes to help him to put his bed in the sitting position. 

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I? You're my boyfriend and I’m your emergency contact.”

“No one did before.”

It makes Buck sad and angry at all the other partners Tommy had. Thay had this perfect man and never could stay the night with him at the hospital? Well, it’s their loss. 

“I’m not like them,” Buck looks at their intertwined hands. “And it’s the least I could do for you,” he says, frustrated with himself. For being so weak his team had to stop him from saving his boyfriend.

“Why do you say that, baby?” Tommy looks at him confused.

“I couldn’t save you. E-Eddie had to stop me from running into the warehouse without the mask and the tanks because I lost any cool I have as a first responder. I couldn’t save you. I was just sitting here looking at how the team saved you. Waiting hours for doctors to save you. I did nothing except waiting and hoping for you to be ok,” Buck admits with tears running his cheeks and he can’t look Tommy in the eyes, not wanting to see disappointment in them.

“You did more than you can imagine, baby. You let people you love save you from doing something stupid like run into the fire without proper equipment,” Tommy raises his head using a weak grip in his chin. His blue eyes are kind and caring. “You let the people who you trust save me. And you stayed near me all this time, thinking about me. Trust me, Evan. It’s enough. I need you to be safe too,” Tommy kisses his knuckles. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if you would be hurt because of me.”

“Stop being the one to comfort me. It’s not me who is in the hospital bed,” Buck kisses him again, saying thank you with the kiss for being so caring and gentle with him. 

“You can comfort me by saying I can go back to work soon,” Tommy nods to his hand in the cast.

“Sorry, baby, but the doctor said a month in the cast and then a month of PA,” Buck kisses the pouting man. “I promise you will be ok really quick. You also have a lot of bruises all around your body and had smoke inhalation, but they took you from the oxygen during the night.”

Tommy nods, “could be way worse.”

“Yeah,” Buck swallows, still feeling the cold of the fear of the possibility to lose Tommy forever, “but let’s not challenge the universe, please.”

Tommy smirks but agrees.

“You know, there’s a thing you can actually do for me,” his boyfriend says with a playful smile and Buck nods to him to continue. He is ready to do anything for his boyfriend. “Kiss it better.” 

Buck chuckles on the way Tommy pouts his lips, but leans to him anyway leaving the most tender kiss he can, translating all his love and fear of losing it to his man in it.

He was thinking about saying “I love you” the moment Tommy will wake up, but decided against it. They deserve better than it. Something sweet and tender, not with the aftertaste of pain and fear. So the kiss is a good alternative for now.

-

Two days after the fire Tommy is discharged and Buck takes him to his house, sending his man to rest on the couch while he cleans and cooks and then goes to have dinner with Tommy at the couch, not forgetting to grab the pain pills for the man and water.

“I cooked different meals and froze them. There's food for at least a week. All the instructions about pre-heating are left on the fringe for the moments when I can't be here. But I’ll come after and before my shifts and I spend time with you here on my days off, ” Buck says, while he cleans the dishes. 

Tommy insisted on sitting with him in the kitchen because he missed him while Buck was doing all the chores.

“Or you could just stay here with me without running between my house, loft and station,” Buck turns to Tommy who looks pretty confident, yet Buck sees in his eyes he is scared about Buck’s answer. “Do you want to move in with me?”

Buck puts the last dish on the shelf, wipes his hands with a towel and comes to his boyfriend, falling on his knees to kiss him. 

When they part, they both smile so much, “Yes, yes, I want to move in with you,” Buck kisses him again and then whispers in his lips. “I love you. So much. Wanted to say it on our anniversary after a big romantic dinner, but I don’t want to spend more days without saying it to you. I love you, Tommy.”

Tommy’s huge smile blindes Buck like the sun on the warm summer day.

“I love you too, Evan. So, so much,” they kiss again and Buck can’t wait to spend all his life doing it. 

“When can you move?” Tommy asks after they end the kiss.

“I can pack my most important things the day after tomorrow as it’s my day off and take it all here. Then I’ll talk to my landlord about ending the lease and just pack all other things.”

“Good,” Tommy kisses his birthmark now. “I want you to feel here like home.”

Buck chuckles, “I will feel like home not because my stuff stays here,” he cups Tommy’s face in his hands, “I feel like home with you. No matter where we are.”

“You’re such a sup,” Tommy laughs, kissing his birthmark again. 

“Said the man who made me a playlist of songs he associates with me.” 

Tommy shuts him the same way he did when he kissed him for the first time. Buck can’t be happier his man uses this tactic to shit him any time he wants.

He just can’t imagine himself happier when he's with Tommy. 

#bucktommy #my fics #evan buckley #911 #evan buck buckley #911 abc #tuck #tevan #kinkley #tommy kinard #911 on abc #bucktommy fic

[chubbyreaderwriter]

I’m not sure you do requests, but if so could you please do - Where Sirius and Remus are your parents and hear someone making fun of you at grimmauld place - obviously you don’t have too, love your imagines btw

This is adorable!

In Trouble

Parent! Remus x Chubby/Plus Size Reader x Parent! Sirius

Imagine: Your parents overhear Ron being a little too honest with you and decide to take the situation into their own hands.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: bullying?

Masterlist

You weren’t sure exactly when this little feud started with Ron, but it had slowly progressed over time. It wasn’t quite strong enough for you to say you despised each other, the two of you could feign civilness in front of your shared friends and the adults of The Order. The first couple days at Grimmauld Place were miserable for you, without Harry to keep him occupied Ron had took it upon himself to wreak havoc on your belongings. It was your luck that the red haired boy had never had the best knack for charms and all your cursed, flying books were quickly ceased from their attempts to collide against your head. Hermione had tried reasoning with him but there was little effort in her recent attempts, given how you stopped down to his level and retaliated by turning his skin blue. Of course, you had successfully convinced Hermione that it was the twins who had put you up to such a prank, further planting the seed into her head that you were just an innocent bystander in the whole thing.

You hadn’t told your parents of what was happening between you and Ron, not knowing how they would react. Even in the wizarding world, they would not be considered normal parents. You knew all about their notorious past at Hogwarts and the Marauder’s Map. While you didn’t like a single thing about Ron, you didn’t particularly feel like watching him be crucified in front of your eyes should your fathers be revealed the truth of your sudden mood swings. Thankfully, Harry’s presence along with the return of the missing Aurors of the Order had distracted you both to put your squabbling at ease for the time being, focusing on your mutual friend. All had gone smoothly for the first night, but on the second evening, you had told Hermione to head to dinner without you, promising you would be following her shortly. You had finished brushing your hair and headed down one of the many long, narrow corridors to get to the dining room where everyone was waiting.

A small creak of the floorboards behind you prompted you to turn around and your eyes instinctively rolled at the familiar sight of red hair and blue eyes. You folded your arms over your chest and scowled at him, “Following girls around now? Should’ve known you were a creep.” Ron’s fists clenched at his sides and his face already turning a bright shade of red, causing a smirk to appear on your own. The taller boy stepped closer, glaring down at you, “As if I’d be following a pig like you anywhere, maybe you should go back to your room so there’ll be food left for the rest of us.” Ron had made little comments about your weight before, it was all his intelligence could come up with to insult you about. You weren’t bothered by his opinion of you, especially when you knew he was wrong. You scoffed and held your arms by your sides, not backing down from him, “You’re one to talk, shovelling shit down your throat for everyone to see. Go learn what basic manners are, if that’s not too difficult for you to understand.”

Your eyes glanced up at a very prominent vein poking out of Ron’s forehead and it took a small amount of effort not to laugh at how obviously worked up he was. He opened his mouth but before another word could come out of it, a hand clasped you both on the shoulder and your attentions were turned to your fathers standing to the left of you both. Remus put his arm around your shoulder, “Come come pup, we’re all waiting for you two, people will get the wrong idea.” Your face heated up in rage and disgust at the mere thought of anyone thinking you would even consider the possibility of doing anything with that horrid boy. Remus chuckled at your expression, “I’m only joking, we’re all well aware of how much you hate each other, but unfortunately, you can’t go about hexing people just because you don’t like them in the real world.” You frowned, “Why ever not?” Your father shook his head as he sat you down at the table next to him.

Sirius’ hand firmly gripped Ron’s shoulder to the point of being painful, causing the boy to wince from the pressure on his shoulder. Unbeknownst to the both of you, they had heard everything between the two of you and it had taken most of Remus’ strength to hold back Sirius when he heard Ron talking about your weight. Sirius smiled at Ron but it disappeared once you were out of sight, pushing the boy against the wall, taking his wand out and pointing it towards the cowering child in front of him, “If you even dare to think about talking to my dear little pup like that again, I’ll make you wish you were never born. Do you understand?” Ron whimpered as Sirius gently patted his cheek and ruffled his hair, putting his wand away in his cloak, “Atta boy, now hurry before your mother worries. I’d hate to have to tell her how you’ve been treating girls.” The fear of both Sirius and his mother was enough to make Ron dash into the safety of the dining room, his tail between his legs, and quickly sit next to Hermione and Ginny. He didn’t dare to look in your direction for the entirety of the week and you were more than grateful but you knew that something had happened outside of your knowledge.

Cut to a few hours later and it was nearing midnight, you had yet to hear another peep from the ginger boy despite there being a few instances he could have jabbed a quick insult in here and there. But no, he just kept his head down and didn’t seem to be able to look you in the eye, not even speaking to you at all. Don’t get me wrong, you were delighted with the change but you were curious to find out what brought it on. Your eyes looked over at your parents and the way Sirius was glaring at Ron told you everything you needed to know. You smiled to yourself and walked over to them, they were stood in the kitchen helping Molly clean up after dinner.

You wrapped your arms around Remus in a hug, “Night dad, night pops.” Remus didn’t hesitate returning your hug and let you go after a few moments to let you hug your other adoptive father. You hugged Sirius close and mumbled in his ear, “You didn’t have to tell him off you know, I had it handled.” Sirius chuckled and stroked the top of your head with his hand, looking down at you with a fond smile, “Oh I know you did dear, but I couldn’t help it, i have to keep my pup safe and happy at all times.” You smiled to yourself and gave Sirius another quick hug before heading upstairs to bed for the night. Once under the sheets you snuggled up to a black wolf teddy that your parents had gotten for you when you were little. You held it close to your chest as you drifted off to sleep, comforted by the fact you had the best parents you could ever wish for.

#chubby reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #harry potter x plus size reader #sirius black x chubby reader #remus lupin #remus x sirius #Remus Lupin x chubby reader

[cinnamondumbb]

ੈ✦ ⿻ 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐔𝐏 —𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 : after a clash with the rda, you are left with a wounded neteyam to care for.

contents. a scenario? drabble? imagine? i really don't know what to call this lol comforting, bit of angst, fluff + gn! omaticaya reader

notes. my first ever piece on neteyam ! i had sm fun writing this ^^ i already have two more neteyam pieces on my drafts :) i hope you like it!

in which you try to not let your emotions affect your duties as a healer tending to neteyam's wounds .

or

where neteyam is terrified of the idea that he might have disappointed you after he makes a mistake .

being a healer — even if only in training — meant that serving your people would always come first, so it was crucial that you never let your emotions cloud your best judgement, and you took that assignment very seriously. however, you would be lying if you said that following reason was not getting more and more difficult, as your feelings for a certain member of your tribe only grew stronger.

you tried with all your might to keep yourself from crumbling as you watched toruk makto carry neteyam's body covered in blood and scratches into the omaticayan's hideout in the hallelujah mountains. which proved itself to be a task close to impossible. still, your spirit did not yield. you needed to remain calm and act rationally.

your duty to your people came first.

you rushed to the gathering in the entrance of the camp, promptly offering your services to mo'at. you wanted to help in any way you possibly could. alas, mo'at decided that she and the others could take care of the gravely wounded and entrusted neteyam's care to you, her apprentice and neteyam's close childhood friend.

that is how you found yourself alone with neteyam, sitting across from each other on the floor of your small tent, patching him up. this boy you knew your whole life, your best friend.

neteyam kept his head down as you gently rubbed a damp cloth on his recent injuries, his braids hiding his features completely so you could not read his expression. he was too afraid to meet your gaze. he feared you might despise him now, that maybe he had crossed a line and that it had cost any high regards you once held for him. he knew how deeply you valued your duties, and he had just gone against his, it did not matter the reason. he had brought dishonour upon himself. after all, it was his choice to put himself in danger and now you were the one who had to deal with it. resigned, he could only stare at the tapestries that adorned the floor and let you continue your work.

"i am sorry," said neteyam, much like a plead.

you did not answer, not out of spite, you just did not know what to say.

you had not spoken a word to neteyam since he got back from his mission— in which he was only supposed to participate as a lookout along with lo'ak. instead, he ended up going against his father's direct orders and taking part in the fight, nearly getting himself killed.

he grimaced at your touch, the medicine you were applying in his wounds stung more than he had anticipated, leaving a tingly sensation on his skin. yet, it did not hurt as much as when he finally lifted his gaze at you, taking in the look on your face.

it was only then that neteyam noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks.

"please, don't cry, i am so sorry," said neteyam, quickly standing on his knees to get closer to you. he was confused, why in the world were you crying? he expected you to be angry or disappointed in him, but this was a reaction he did not predict. neteyam tucked a few stray braids behind your ear then cupped you cheek. "i cannot stand to see you cry."

"what you did was so stupid!" you spat as neteyam wiped your tears away.

"i know, i am sorry. i disobeyed orders and have disgraced myself. i– i just hope you can forgive me."

"what?" neteyam took himself too seriously at times, it was something you frequently teased him about, but this was insane. "what are you talking about, neteyam?"

"that i failed to follow-through with my responsibilities–"

"i do not care for any of that, especially not when you could have been killed!"

neteyam's expression was one of sheer confusion.

"wait, does that mean you are not– disappointed in me?"

"oh neteyam." you took his face between your hands, resting your forehead against his. "i could never be disappointed in you."

you leaned away for the briefest of seconds only to place kiss on top of his brow, before he pulled you into his arms again, squeezing you tightly, as if he was afraid you would simply slip away if he loosened his grip.

"i see you." neteyam whispered softly, his breath brushed against your lips, sending chills through your whole body.

"i see you."

cinnamondumbb © 2023 — please do not copy/repost/translate my work without my permission. (♡) + rb! :p

#— ᵕ̈♡ lua writes🧁 #ੈ☆ — (avatar) 📓 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #atwow spoilers #atwow fanfiction #avatar fluff #avatar fanfiction #avatar fandom #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan