#this took me 42 hours in like 3 sittings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luv4berry · 10 months

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Can you pls make one abt miles and yn getting into a very heated argument and she slaps him for saying smth outrageous and then she leaves and he climbs into her window after a few hours and tries to work it out with her

anything for you.

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you go over to miles practically drenched in another man's cologne, and he jumps to conclusions all too quickly.

GENRE: fluff to angst to fluff.

WARNINGS: bickering/arguing, physical contact made by reader, jealous miles, cursing, kissing/making out, suggestive (?) miles calling women females (this needs a trigger warning in itself), CORNYYY

AUTHORS NOTE: yo why this tumblr shit lowkey fun? + this is my first request agagaa thank you!! omg and i hit 200?? and my eyes only is almost at 2k notes wtf r y’all onnnn?? anyways thank you for requesting! i didn’t make miles say anything too outrageous just so he could redeem himself later on, hope you like it!

“you look so good,” your boyfriend says for what seems like the 100th time today, his large hands immediately dropping to your bare waist, fidgeting with your waist beads as he leans in to mold your lips, a smile gracing his face when you return his affection.

“all mine.” he mutters as he intensifies the kiss, his hands approaching the waist band of his boxers that you’ve claimed as your own. when he lifts your feet off the ground, the heels of your feet lock around his back, a giggle escaping your lips when he lays you down on his bed. you pull away from him, laying the palms of your hands on his chest to keep him away when he pursues your lips once more.

“miles, we can’t make out all day.” you giggle, running your manicured fingers down his chest.

“says who?” he buries his head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet kisses along the space when he suddenly pauses.

he removes his head from the crevice, sitting up to which you follow.

“baby,” you hum in acknowledgement, “where’d you go today?” he questions you, a hint of an indistinguishable emotion in his voice.

“just here, why?” you question him, running your nails up and down his neck. a look of confusion immediately sweeps over your features when he calmly removes your hand from his body.

“cause you smell like somebody been rubbing all up on you.” he looks you up and down, leaning in to now smell your clothes, hair, neck, anything within the perimeter really.

he pulls back, “who were you with?” his expression solidified.

“nobody, i swear i don’t know why i smell.” you reason with him, genuinely confused as well.

“oh? so the smell just magically took over your hair and your clothes?”

he completely gets up from his position next to you, hovering over you. “y/n, i know im not tripping, who the hell was rubbing up on you and why’s the smell so strong? that’s what we doin’ now? and then you got the audacity to bring your ass over to my house, lay in my bed, and wear my clothes.”

“what are you implying?” you scowl at him, now rising to your own feet.

“im implying that you forreal out here fucking on other dudes when you got a whole ass boyfriend.”

the next few moments go by swiftly and mindlessly, but the scorching sensation left in the palm of your left hand enables you to process what just happened almost immediately; you slapped him. though, not an ounce of regret filled your tank of emotions, adrenaline being the only identifiable one.

“i don’t know who the hell you’re talking to but it can’t be me, how dare you?” you glare at him, the imprint of your palm already making its mark on his face, the surrounding skin blemishing. “when have i ever done something like that to you?”

“today, apparently.” he mumbles under his breath, caressing the skin of his cheek to soothe the discomfort.

you look at him like he’s just grown 3 heads before silently walking over to the corner of his room, pulling his graphic tee over your shoulders. you immediately lunge it at him, same with his boxers, bracelets, his necklace, anything of his that is currently making contact with you. you zip up your navy blue hoodie, slipping your sweatpants over your bare legs.

you bring your tote bag over your shoulder, making your way towards his window which he currently guards, glaring at you from where you stand.

“miles, get the hell out my way before i pop you in your mouth next.”

“i want his name and address, you not going anywhere till i get an answer.”

you flail your arms in his face, “are you deaf or just stupid? there is no “him” because the only person i been rubbing up on is you!”

“baby, i don’t smell like no cheap ass cologne.”

“don’t call me that, move!” you raise your voice, stepping up to him.

“what’s his name?”

“you’re crazy.” you scoff, instead bolting for the front door. you’re mindful of mama rio cooking in the kitchen, slipping past quietly as to not raise any suspicion. though, you do bid her a quiet farewell, yet even when you slip out the front door with a smile on your face she knows something isn’t right by the way miles isn’t trailing behind you.

“miles, qué pasó?” she calls out from the kitchen, wiping her hands down her apron and subtly knocking on her sons door before entering.

“it’s nothing.” he calls back, digging his cheek into his pillow to prevent his mother from spotting the blossoming blemish. he didn’t want to explain how he got you so worked up that you slapped him to his mother, or anyone for that matter.

“it’s nothing? invite her over for dinner tonight.” rio arches her brow, taking a seat next to her son on the bed.

“we aren’t on good terms right now.” he sighs out, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

“even more of a reason to invite her over, right?” rio says, making her way out of his bedroom before miles could come up with a rebuttal.

he lazily grabs his phone when it pings, though when he realizes the message is from you, he throws it on the floor until the phone pings with a second message. he groans loudly swiping open your messages.

one attachment

next time don’t make stupid assumptions you dick

the photo captioned was of a half empty cologne bottle you had probably found somewhere in your home, miles heart immediately dropping to his stomach.

okay, maybe he fucked up a teensy tiny bit.

when you got home, you racked your brain for a possible explanation as to why you smelled like anything other than your boyfriend. you were stumped till your brother had walked past you, the aroma that had gotten miles so worked up earlier clouding your senses immediately.

you lay on the pad of your tummy on your king sized bed, your irritable mood causing a burning sensation to spread throughout your body. though it may not be displayed through your face, you were absolutely livid. after all you’ve done for him, this is what you got in return, his unprecedented allegations.

sure it was reasonable to be suspicious, but to outright accuse you? you’ve never given him any reason not to trust you, reassuring him whenever he needed it. had your words not been enough? what about your gestures? what about the times you’d cuddle up with him in bed, sleepily muttering words like “im yours,” or “i belong to you, miles.” had that not been enough?

your jittering thoughts are interrupted by a newfound presence in the corner of your room, the peripherals of your eye capturing those twin braids that you adore so much.

“nuh uh, get the hell up outta here.” you sit up, pointing back towards the window.

“deadass?” he raises both brows, staring at you dead in the eyes.

“deadass.” you return the gesture.

“nah.” he climbs into bed with you, settling his arm over your waist.

“im being serious miles, get out. don’t touch me either.” you pick up his arm as if it’s diseased, laying it over his stomach.

“you don’t like it when i touch on you?” he says in a sultry voice, and you roll your eyes.

“ma, listen to me,” he grabs your chin meeting you at eye level, your brows still furrowed out of anger. when your eyes meet his, any foreign sense of anger evaporates from your system, turning to putty in his hands, no matter how much you tried to fight it.

“you’re so pretty baby,” he kisses your downturned lips once.

“why you look so mad?” he ignorantly questions you, kissing your lips once more.

“baby smile for me?” he squishes your cheeks, yet he’s still met with silence till you finally part your lips.

“this isn’t helping your case by the way.” you roll your eyes at his obvious attempts to bribe you.

“alright, what if i came to you smelling like some other female? you wouldn’t like that huh?” he attempts to reason with you.

“i came to you smelling like my brother? and even then if you came to me smelling like some girl i would conduct a thorough investigation first.” you side eye him.

“how was i supposed to know it was your brother? i didn’t even know he was back.”

“he got back this morning, i gave him a hug and he must’ve rubbed off on me.”

“you didn’t tell me all that. so what i gotta do for you to believe im sorry, hm?” he climbs on top of you, following your darting eyes with his own.

“buy me a pandora bracelet.” you joke.

he perks up, “on god? baby i buy you jordans every other day, the hell is a bracelet?”

“i mean i was joking but you serious?”

“you didn’t know that i’d do anything for you?”

“you’re corny boooo, leave me alone.” you push his head away from yours, your facade breaking when a smile plays at your lips.

“y/n?”

“hm?”

“why do you hit so hard?”

“what do you mean?” you ask him, your outburst from earlier had completely left your mind. he turns to the side, and your eyes widen as they lay upon the imprint of your hand slowly fading,

“oh shit,” you wince, inspecting the damage of your earlier actions.

you throw the blanket off your legs, sitting on your knees to inspect further. you silently grab his hand, heading towards your bathroom as you slowly feel guilt begin to stir inside you.

“stay here.” he watches as you disappear into the hallway, coming back with a frozen pack of peas. you hold it up to his cheek for him, fiddling with the ends of his braids as you repeatedly check for signs of the bruising going away.

“im sorry miles, i shouldn’t have hit you.”

he hums in acknowledgment of your apology, parting his lips to speak. “it’s okay, i like them aggressive.”

a smile threatens your lips, your hand going up to cover your mouth to keep your false facade up.

“nah why you keep smiling?” he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand down to stare at you intently.

“stop that.” you attempt to straighten out your face.

it’s silent for the next few moments as you adjust the frozen peas seeing that the bruise had almost completely faded.

“y/n, you know im being forreal when i say i’d do anything for you, right?”

“yeah, i know.”

love, berry.

#miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miles #atsv x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales

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asdfghjklmals · 5 months

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CRAVINGS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. mentions of sex and suggestiveness at the end. WORD COUNT: 2.9k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend’s pregnancy cravings keep her up at night and she ends up waking up satoru because of it. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this all started because i was craving fried chicken. i love writing for pregnant oc gojo girlfriend. she is just so funny. 🤭 consider this my late happy birthday fic for satoru. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

toss. turn. toss. turn.

you felt satoru’s arm twitch as you kept tossing and turning in his embrace. the half-asleep sorcerer opened his eyes as they adjusted to the dark to look at you.

“you okay?” he asked as he murmured into the crevice of your neck.

he brought your body closer to his chest, stroking your cheek gently. you sighed, embarrassed to tell him what was running through your mind. your emotions have been all over the place during your pregnancy, so you were feeling vulnerable. pregnancy hormones were no joke.

you pouted your lips at him, “if i tell you, will you promise not to laugh at me?”

“why would i laugh at you?” satoru scoffed in disbelief. he reassured your feelings like he always did, “i know it’s been getting harder for you to sleep since baby gojo is growing so big and strong in your belly… so, tell me what’s wrong sweetheart.”

you pursed your lips and hesitated before leaning towards satoru’s ear to whisper to him. this was normal… right?

“satoru, baby gojo is violently craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

and you had to have it now.

satoru laid back down on his back and dropped his head on his pillow, he turned his head to stare back at you. he then glanced at his phone on the glass nightstand beside him, checking the time. all he knew was that it was an ungodly hour of the night.

3:42 am.

“right now?” he asked, “like… baby gojo doesn’t want it for breakfast instead?”

you frowned at your baby daddy and gave him your best puppy dog eyes that you knew he couldn’t say no to.

“yes, right now. for like… a midnight snack.” you replied with a twinge of guilt, “—but it’s okay, babe. i can make it myself. i know you have work in the morning.”

you turned away from satoru so you could roll over on your side of the bed to attempt to sit up. you could feel baby gojo kicking your side, happy that you were moving around at this time of night. your baby had always been extremely active while you were supposed to be sleeping.

“no, babe—” satoru interrupted you as he grabbed your arm, “i’ll get you—i mean—baby gojo a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. you stay here.”

you smiled sweetly at him and caressed his cheek, giving him an appreciative kiss.

satoru gojo would do anything for you, even if that meant he had to get out of bed at 3:42am to make his pregnant girlfriend a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when he had to wake up for work at six in the morning.

satoru took a deep breath and swung his long legs out of the warm and comfortable duvet. he rubbed his face with the palm of his hands before hopping out of the bed and into the kitchen.

even though you really wanted that peanut butter and jelly sandwich, you did feel bad that you woke satoru up on a work night. ever since shoko told him that all your cravings needed to be satisfied since that’s what his baby wanted to eat, he was always at your beck and call.

this wasn’t the first time the white haired sorcerer had to fulfill a ridiculous craving of yours. you’ve asked for extra crispy fried chicken in the middle of the night, finished large tubs of lactose-free ice cream, and would make the world’s spiciest noodles even though your heartburn was amplified tenfold during this pregnancy. you told satoru that you were going to eat whatever you wanted if you were gonna be having his baby.

you got up slowly from the bed, feeling your baby shift in your belly. small kicks attacked your left side as you laughed at your active baby. you opened the door of your bedroom to peek into the kitchen.

satoru was standing in front of the fancy digital toaster that megumi had bought him (with your credit card) for father’s day this year. satoru loved high tech gadgets, and knowing him, he always had to have the best in everything… even toasters.

you watched as your sleepy and shirtless boyfriend popped two pieces of whole grain bread into the toaster, grabbing the smooth peanut butter from the pantry and the sweet strawberry jelly from the fridge. your household had two types of peanut butter on hand at all times, one smooth and one chunky. satoru and megumi liked the chunky while you and tsumiki preferred the smooth.

you wrapped yourself in your robe and stepped out into the kitchen. you walked over to satoru, who’s cheek was resting in the palm of his hand, his elbow supporting him on the kitchen counter. he was waiting for your bread to finish toasting.

you snaked your arms around his bare chest, your belly preventing you from hugging him as tightly as you actually wanted to. you rested your cheek on his back.

“what are you doing out here, sweetheart?” satoru asked softly as he peeked behind his shoulder, “i was going to bring the sandwich to you.”

“i don’t want crumbs in our bed.” you replied innocently, “—and i just wanted to watch you.”

satoru turned to you and grinned, “a little creepy, but i like that.”

you glared at him playfully as he snuck a kiss on your cheek. you clung to his side as you watched him spread the peanut butter and jelly onto the perfectly toasted bread. he cut the sandwich into triangles, just how you liked it.

you sat across the kitchen island in the barstool, admiring your boyfriend’s shirtless figure. you laughed knowing that satoru would definitely be considered a ‘dilf’ once your baby was born.

he slid the plate to you and watched as your eyes lit up. he could practically see the stars dancing in your eyes. you were drooling over the sandwich that you were craving so violently just a moment ago.

you took a bite as the peanut butter, jelly, and toasted bread married flavors into your mouth. you swore you haven’t had such a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich before this moment.

“is it that good?” satoru chuckled. he was honestly curious. you could be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich spokesperson with the way you were eating that sandwich.

you licked your lips and your strawberry jellied fingers, replying with a mouth full of sandwich, “yes, thank you. baby gojo is so happy, babe. they’re doing somersaults in my stomach right now.”

satoru laughed at your ridiculous reply before swiping crumbs off your bottom lip with his thumb. he turned around to grab an empty glass cup from the kitchen cabinet and filled it with water. he slid the glass over to you.

“thank you.” you said with a smile before downing the glass of water.

satoru had always been an attentive boyfriend, but ever since he found out you were pregnant, he did all he could to be there for you in any way, shape, or form. he was present and involved, you couldn’t ask for a better partner. you couldn’t wait to see him be a father to your baby.

satoru patiently watched as you finished your last bite of your sandwich. you pushed yourself off of the barstool and took your plate to the sink, washing away the crumbs from your hands and plate.

he leaned against the kitchen counter, satisfied with himself, arms folded, “anything else before we head back to bed, sweetheart?”

with no hesitation, you blurted out, “baby gojo wants a hot chocolate.”

satoru blinked twice. at this moment, his baby was craving the most random things. he couldn’t even believe it. this was worse than when he went to buy you fried chicken in the middle of the night. you made sure you put the emphasis on ‘extra crispy’ and if it wasn't extra crispy, he couldn't come home.

“really, babe?” he asked, “you really want a hot chocolate? when was the last time you drank hot chocolate?”

you gave him the puppy dog eyes again, “it’s not me. it’s the baby—can you use the lactose-free milk?”

he stood in front of you and bent down to eye-level with your belly and pointed at your belly button.

“you—baby gojo—are asking for a lot in the middle of the night.” he said to your belly, “it’s a good thing i’m insanely in love with your mommy.”

you felt two kicks from baby gojo. you smiled at the sight of satoru talking to your stomach. he loved to speak to baby gojo as if they were already born. you were certain that your baby recognized yours and satoru’s voices because baby gojo would kick, twist, turn and throw punches when they heard satoru’s voice after he would come home from work or when he would stop by your office to escape his students. your baby loved his voice just as much as you did.

you sat back down in the barstool and watched satoru grab a mug from your mug collection. he recently added a pregnancy mug that he was very proud of.

“this is probably the most accurate mug you’ve bought yet.” you giggled. in a bright sparkly pink font, this one read ‘beware, due to the influence of pregnancy hormones, i could burst into tears or kill you in the next two minutes’.

“sometimes, i worry about you,” satoru teased as he poured your lactose-free milk into the mug and stirred a hot chocolate packet into it. “one minute you’re climbing me like a tree and the next you don’t want me to touch you. is that also because of your pregnancy hormones?”

you laughed shamelessly, “yes, sorry, the libido is off the charts some days.”

the white-haired sorcerer thanked god every day for your increased sex drive during your pregnancy. nowadays you were the one who initiated intimacy… and satoru gojo was not going to complain about that.

satoru put the mug of hot chocolate into the microwave to warm it up for you. he turned to face you as you both waited for the microwave to beep.

once the hot chocolate was done being warmed up, he guided you to the living room with the mug in his hand. satoru sat down on the plush white couch and patted the seat next to him, motioning for you to sit with him.

you obliged and made yourself comfortable. he grabbed your legs to put on top of his and handed you your hot chocolate. he draped a blanket on top of your laps. he placed his hand on your thigh and admired the pregnancy glow on your face in the warm and dim living room lights.

a sweet cup of hot chocolate, a handsome man cuddling you, a comfortable couch and warm blanket? what more could you ask for? you enjoyed any quality time with satoru as you got older and busier. quality time was something you’d keep near and dear to your heart, especially knowing that you weren’t going to be alone with him anymore in a short couple of months. baby gojo was going to be joining the circus soon.

“you know what i just realized?” satoru said out of nowhere as you blew on your hot chocolate.

you looked over at him, cocking your head to the side, “what?”

“we didn’t read week 22.” satoru stated. he was always on top of reading the ‘what to expect’ app with you. you watched as he stood up from the couch to quickly grab your phone from the bedroom nightstand for you.

once he returned to the living room, he made himself comfortable next to you again and swiped open your phone to find the app that you used to track baby gojo’s development.

“baby gojo is as big as a papaya.” satoru read, “baby gojo hit a huge milestone and is weighing at a whopping 1 lbs and is measuring 11 inches in length.”

“that’s our big and strong baby.” you cooed, caressing your belly with your free-hand, taking another sip of your hot chocolate.

“baby gojo’s grip, vision, and hearing are all getting stronger now! you might notice a protruding navel—” satoru lifted the blanket to check your belly button. you laughed to find a non-protruding one at the moment.

“—and possibly even bigger feet.” he finished reading. he peeked over to look at your feet.

“they’re just a little swollen.” you frowned.

“at a glance, even though baby gojo’s eyes are sealed shut, they can perceive light and dark now. shine a flashlight on your tummy and see if your little one moves—oh, babe, we have to try that out.”

you watched as satoru got up from the couch again to dig in the kitchen junk drawer for a flashlight.

“you need to clean out that drawer.” you nagged.

satoru brushed off your comment as he returned to your side, “yeah, yeah. i’ll do it later.”

he turned on the flashlight and pointed it directly on your belly. you immediately felt baby gojo move away from the light, surprising you and making you laugh out loud.

“did you feel anything?” satoru asked curiously. unfortunately, he still hasn't been able to feel baby gojo kick yet, you had hoped that he would be able to soon. only you were able to feel movement at the moment.

you nodded with a toothy smily, “yes. seems like our little one doesn’t like the flashlight.”

satoru grinned back at you. he sat back down and continued to read enthusiastically, “baby gojo is starting to hear and process sounds from inside your body so watch what you say… and baby's nervous system is sharpening the five senses, which means little fingers are learning to grab those tiny ears, nose and umbilical cord.”

you watched satoru’s slender fingers scroll slowly through the app. you gasped. your eyes started to well up with tears. you seemed to cry more easily now with the pregnancy hormones.

“satoru… it says my feet might not go back to normal after pregnancy.”

satoru knew exactly what question you'd ask. 'satoru would you still love me if my feet don't go back to normal after i give birth?'

“babe, it’s okay.” satoru wiped your crocodile tears as he comforted you, "and don't worry, i'll still love you."

“—what if i can't fit my shoes anymore?” you continued to frown, taking a sad sip of your hot chocolate.

satoru stroked your head before placing a kiss on your temple. leave it to you for the theatrics, you were his precious drama queen.

“sweetheart, if your feet don’t go back to normal, i’ll buy you every single pair of shoes you own in a new size.”

and satoru gojo could definitely afford to do just that.

you continued to pout as satoru continued to read the app.

“it says you might start experiencing braxton hicks. they’re like practice contractions.” he hummed, “and the app advises to take more magnesium and to work out… and that’s all for this week.”

you nodded, “i’ll call my doctor and ask about the magnesium. that should help with my leg cramps—and about the working out…”

“—we’ve been working out.” satoru commented slyly.

you glanced at him and sipped at your hot chocolate. even though satoru was keeping you company on the couch, he was probably exhausted. you thought that maybe he could call out of work tomorrow… guilty thoughts of keeping him awake filled your head.

“okay, baby gojo—” satoru leaned over to ask your belly, “is that all you’re craving for? last call in the kitchen. daddy wants to go back to sleep now.”

“yes,” you hummed, “—but mommy is craving for something now too.”

satoru squinted at you and booped your nose playfully, “mommy and baby gojo are the same at the moment. if you’re craving it, i’m sure the baby is too.”

“no, this one has nothing to do with the baby, satoru.” you told him confidently, hoping he’d understand.

he cocked his head to the side, wondering what else you could possibly be craving for at this time of night.

“what is it?”

you looked up at satoru with needy eyes before mumbling, “i want you.”

satoru stared at you for a couple seconds before he registered at what you were hinting at.

“oh. ohhhhhhh—i see where you’re going with this—” he grinned before replying to your sly innuendo of a request, “—well, how can i say no to that?”

you laughed out loud as satoru sat up quickly from the couch, taking you by the hand to lead you back to the master bedroom. you sat down on the edge of your bed, satoru towering over you to lean towards your ear.

he whispered, “you have some interesting pregnancy cravings, babe.”

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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multifandomgirl08 · 20 days

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On Sleepless Roads, The Sleepless Go [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: It's the early hours of Nikita's first birthday, and you can't help but look back at the day you brought your son into the world.

Warning(s): Flashback to a year before, post-childbirth (Non-graphic)

A/N: Shorter chapter today before my classes start up again this week. Title from the song Hear Me You by Jimmy Eat World.

Words: 1.4k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

It was late at night, a few hours before what would be Nikita’s first birthday. You were staying up because Max’s flight from England was running late. He had finished up the last of his sponsorship obligations earlier that day, and there were weather problems, so they hadn’t let his plane take off until a couple hours ago.

You had stayed up reading your book, drinking tea from your mug that was resting on the end table. The house was silent aside from the sound of the open doors that lead to the backyard.

You looked up at the clock that hung on the wall in the entry way.

11:42 pm, it read. You reached for your mug and took a sip of the tea, it had gone cold two chapters ago. You were just about the close your book and get ready to go to bed when you heard a set of keys in the lock of the front door.

You shut the book placing it on the coffee table before getting up and seeing Max standing in the entryway of the house, his blue Louis Vuitton backpack around his shoulders, and duffle bag in one hand.

“You waited for me.” He said mindlessly placing his keys on the console table.

“I figured that you’d want to be there when I tell Nikita happy birthday.” You said walking closer to him.

Max slid his backpack off, placing both of his bags on the floor. He reached out for your hand, turning off the living room lights, letting you walk in front of him on the floating stairs that lead downstairs. You kept turning off the few lights that were still on in the house, and stopped by Nico’s room first. He was fast asleep in his warm sheets curled up around his pillows.

Max closed to door just enough to let the cats in if they ended up wander around the house in the early hours of the morning. Nikita’s room had a small glow casting a shadow into the hallway. Max had pushed open the door to see Niki lying in his crib fast asleep. Max looked down at his watch for a moment, seeing the hands turn before both of them hit the 12.

You both reached in, kissing him on the forehead one after another. Max ran his hand over Niki’s head.

“Happy Birthday, Nikita.” You whispered. Max moved to sit in the fluffy chair that you would normally read to Niki in. He opened his arms for you inviting you to sit in his lap, while you both looking on into the crib as your son slept.

December 3, 2025 - 12:03 AM

It was a few moments later the nurse placed a swaddle of blankets into your chest, you still couldn’t comprehend the fact that you had just given birth aside from the weight that was against your chest.

“So good, so strong,” Max muttered resting his forehead against your arm. Max’s hand was placed on the baby’s back.

You could hear the nurse say something about giving you a few minutes before they had you start to push the placenta out while taking the baby to get washed, weighed, and changed.

Max kissed your forehead and then the back of your hand that was cradling the baby’s bottom.

“Max, would you like to cut the cord?” The doctor asked. You ran your fingers over the back of Max’s hand, encouraging him to go and do it.

Max went ahead and heard the little cry that the baby let out.

“What do we have?” You croaked having not heard the doctor earlier. Your throat sounded like it had been rubbed raw.

“A boy.” He said, and you could see the tears start to collect in the corner of Max’s eyes. You sometimes forget that Max didn’t get to experience Nico being born.

You had brought a boy into the world, Nikita.

Eventually, they took the baby out of your arms, and Max went with one of the nurses so you could push the placenta out and then get you cleaned up before they brought the baby back.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour. More pushing that felt like a strange ache, and a nurse helping you into the bathroom to clean you up. They ushered you back into the bed, after helping you into a new gown. As you leaned against the pillow, your eyes started to feel heavy. You rested your eyes for a bit before you heard wheels against the tile floor.

You forced them open to see a clear bassinette placed by your bed, and Max sitting in a chair with the baby in his arms.

“Hi, mijn leeuwin.” He said looking up at you. You gave him a weak smile.

“So do you have a name in mind?” The nurse asked.

“Nikita?” Max asked looking at you. He was giving you a way out if you wanted to change it.

You gave the nurse a nod, “Nikita Daniel,” The nurse nodded back to you, pulling a few papers out to write it down before leaving you, Nikita, and Max together.

You sat there in the hospital bed exhusted out of your mind, but let yourself take in the quiet of Max cooing at Nikita. You wanted Max to have as many moment with him as possible.

Max was slow to get out of the chair before walking towards you. He carefully laid Nikita against your chest. You ran a finger over Nikita’s cheek, feeling the soft skin under your fingers.

“I know your not a fan of Nikita as a name, so I thought we could call him Niki for short.” You could feel Max’s eyes trying to meet yours, but you were too busy looking at your son.

“I’m okay with Niki, but I’ll never hear the end of it from Helmut about him being named after Niki Lauda.” You looked up after hearing Max’s words.

You couldn’t help but laugh. Max, always thinking of others.

“After 12 hours of labor, Helmut doesn’t really get much of a say.” Max said nothing to that, just kissed the side of your head before pulling the chair closer to you. Max had laid Nikita in his bassinet after a while letting you get some more sleep. The nurse would come back in a couple of hours to help you breastfeed Nikita for the first time. Max looked in awe of you again, either watching you breastfeeding your child or Nikita eating straight from you. Another first for the both of you to share.

It was in the late hours of the morning that Sophie showed up with Nico holding her hand before Nico got the chance to meet his little brother for the first time.

“Come,” Max said holding your hand as you both walked to the master bedroom. “We should let the birthday boy sleep. It’s going to be a long day.”

“Do you have plans that I don’t know about?” You asked, admiring Max as he got ready for bed removing his stale plane clothes. He was all broad shoulders, and defined arms.

“Maybe.” He shrugged before pulling the bedsheets back.

“Who’d you invited?” You asked as you pushed the thick comforter towards the bottom of the bed.

“The usual people.” That just meant the grid (past and current), Martin, Max’s grandmother, Sophie, Victoria, Tom, and their kids.

“Don’t tell me you ordered a cake.” He said nothing back. You lightly shook your head, oh Max.

You remember him telling you the story of Nico’s first birthday. Max had to blow out Nico’s candle, Luka had thrown a tantrum from not taking a nap earlier in the day. Victoria had apologized profusely afterwords. You always wondered if Max had any photos of that day.

“We’ll blow out the candles for him, and I’m sure Nico will help.” Max said as you both climbed under the sheets.

He had you pulled you up against his chest with his hand resting of your hip. Your fingers were playing with his wedding band. You would have to get up soon to celebrate your son’s first birthday with the family, and somehow you didn’t feel even a little bit tired.

“Sleep mijn leeuwin,” Max muttered into your neck. You could hear that he was falling asleep just from his voice. You pulled the sheets up over your shoulders, and closed your eyes.

It was going to be a long day with people filling up the house, you would need all of the sleep that you could get. Your second oldest was turning 1 and you didn’t want to miss a second of the day.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #mv1 imagine #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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eddie x fem!reader. [vol i] [vol ii]

summary: Eddie’s shenanigans continue, a heavy conversation leads to revealing factors of how Eddie and reader know eachother.

tw: no minors, mentions of drug use/ abuse, death etc. heavy heavy flirting (eddie) eventual smut

wc: 6.4k

a/n: we made it! Another week another volume to our disgusting eddie series. I’m still blown away by the likes, reblogs, and comments this series is receiving— thank you all so much I appreciate it.

s/o: @pinkrelish @sweetsweetjellybean @jo-harrington + @agentmarvel for helping me bring this fic to life! whether that’s beta reading, me bouncing ideas from to you or just talking me through the pacing- I love you all, this fic would be dog shit without you 🤍♥️💋

You wake to the buzzing of your alarm, your hand reaching through the dark across your night stand, slamming down hard on the smooth cold snooze button, but it doesn’t stop.

You hit it again.

Nothing.

The beeps get louder. Your eyelids open a sliver to reveal the numbers 3:42 in red on your alarm clock.

Your alarm usually doesn’t go off until 6, and it’s Sunday so it was never set.

Fuck.

You fly out of bed, disregarding the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, and open the door. A light haze of smoke fills the hallway, white and dreamy, almost pretty like smoke on the water after it rains.

The smoke detector in the kitchen is alarming, letting you know that the potential of a fire is a great possibility with its ominous beeping. You spring into action, throwing open the kitchen window above the sink.

Where is it coming from?

At first you think it’s from the oven, maybe Eddie left a frozen pizza in too long. The older oven was fussy anyway, burning things one day and the next taking forever to heat up to 375° to make a batch of cookies. But the oven was cold, the smoke seemed to be coming from the living room, a quick glance shows you exactly what was going on.

The couch was on fire.

The hum of the vacuum and the clinking swirl of jagged edges of chips and popcorn kernels sucking up through the cylinders into the bag invade the small living room. It took Eddie almost an hour to find where you kept the cleaning supplies. Turns out the smaller door across from the basement was a closet, housed with everything you’d need to clean a home.

Each item was stacked neatly, brooms and a floppy white mop hung on hooks, the vacuum tucked into the corner. The top shelf had bleach, and a green can labeled ‘comet’ that looked like it could be mistaken for Parmesan cheese. Judging by the bottle with blue liquid and a window on it, called Windex, Eddie figured that probably wasn’t for spills on counters. He settled for a bottle of 409 and a roll of paper towels. Grabbing the vacuum with him.

After vacuuming the living room and wiping up the spills in the kitchen, he sits down. A lit joint between his lips, contemplating on what the actual fuck happened tonight. He couldn’t believe your bitchy attitude or the way your lip trembled after he called you out.

You weren’t the girl he used to know. You had changed, grown into a bitter woman, hating everyone and everything.

He falls into a dreamless sleep. Waking later to stumble into the bathroom to take a poorly aimed piss in the dark and falling face first into his mattress.

You grab the first thing you can think of to extinguish the flames ablaze on the couch. Where the hell is Eddie? What the fuck happened!? Filling a popcorn bowl with water that doubled as a puke bucket when you were sick with the flu back in March, you run back to the couch throwing the water on the flames. For good measure you refill the bucket and douse the couch again— putting the flames out, leaving a soaked charred couch that once was a staple in the Wheeler basement for the better half of a decade.

To say you are enraged would be the understatement of the year, possibly the century. You didn’t have much to your name— not anymore, he had made sure of that. But this!? You open all the windows, letting the dewy air of an early summer morning seep through the house, a slight breeze moving the thin curtains.

You weren’t a great physics student but you are almost certain that a couch wouldn’t suddenly combust into flames no matter how old it is. A red plastic lighter on the coffee table confirmed your suspicions.

You don’t waste time trying to wake him up by yelling, you fill the bowl of water immediately and charge into his room. It was as if you put the fire out but the flames were still burning inside of you, you were fucking irate with Eddie. Hate bubbling inside of you as you stomped into his room, water sloshing all over the carpet and onto your socked feet.

He’s laying on his stomach, a loud snore rippling through his body, the last bit of calm before the ice cold water hits his bare back. Soaking his bed in return.

A loud screeching gasp leaves his dry mouth, cottonmouth having his tongue feel like sandpaper on a sidewalk.

He turns over to face you, annoyed and confused at what the hell was going on.

“Y’know,” he says, standing abruptly from his mattress and shivering when the fan oscillates onto his freezing back, “there are more humane ways to wake someone,” he takes a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the smoke and the burnt fibers of the couch, “smells like you burnt breakfast so how may I help you at this ungodly hour?”

“You son of a bitch,” you seethe, “I swear to everything holy and your satan worshiping ass that I’m going to kill you!”

Eddie doesn’t bat an eye, “ooh baby, are we role playing right now? Shit I’m not prepared, gimme a minute.” He stuffs his hand into the front of his boxers making a jerking motion.

“Jesus Christ! I didn’t come in here to fuck you! Have you seen the living room?!”

“So hostile in the morning—“ he says rubbing his eyes, letting a yawn escape his slack mouth, “why what the fuck are you accusing me of now? I cleaned up my mess so if we’re not fuckin’ I’m going back to b— “ you drag him by the arm to the living room. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe properly through the lingering smoke.

His eyes land on the charred mass of the couch. Panic settled on his face for a brief moment before he discarded it for humor. “Damn Tooty, if you wanted a new couch you could have just asked,” he says, letting out a yawn, and stretching his arms out.

He cringes at the way his full name falls from your lips. The spinning rage of fury throwing yourself into a hissy fit.

“I can’t fucking believe you! How goddamn high were you to not realize the couch was on fire before you passed out?”

“Oh fucking relax, it was an accident!”

“Accident? Spilling milk on the counter is an accident. Knocking over the shampoo bottles in the shower is an accident. This.” You say seconds away from full on losing your mind, “is arson, destruction of personal property, a credible offen—“

“Credible offense? Didn’t know you joined the police force, officer Tooty..”

“Eddie!”

“… you probably have those swat grade handcuffs, the ones that won’t break when your wrists are bound to my bedpost, shit I’m hard just thinking about it.”

It takes everything in you not to look down, not to see the way he’s swelled up in his boxer briefs. Not to see the stretch of the fabric or the outline of his length.

You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands down your face. “God you are so fucking infuriating! You really moved in here and just thought you could do whatever the fuck you wanted because you’re Eddie the freak Munson huh? Twenty-six and still pretending that rules and doing shit in a normal way don’t apply to you.”

You think back to how he was in high school, ranting and raving on the cafeteria tables or giving a presentation about how Dungeons and Dragons was in fact not a cult when the assignment was supposed to be on the Holocaust.

He did whatever the fuck he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted to do it. He didn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. Never did, never would.

“I fucking hate you,” you spit, “you’re a filthy bastard and I hope you rot in hell.”

He’s heard it all before, so it’s not a surprise when your words turn sour, trying to break him down. But he won’t stand for it.

“Oh baby,” he tuts, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, “you think you’re the only person to ever hate me?”

He crosses his arms and leans forward, inching towards your face, “if you wanna compete with the big dogs, you better get in line. Heard they sell tickets at the high school for the ‘we hate Eddie Munson fan club’.”

He chuckles at the idea of the whole town hating him, small minded inbred losers, clutching to their cross necklaces whenever he walked past them.

“Probably more fans there than Corroded Coffin has right?” You provoke, eyes raised and a smirk twisting your lips.

“That attitude of yours…” his words are lost when he looks at your lips, he shakes his head and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes scan over your body. Tiny little tank top with one of the straps hanging off your shoulder. Your baby blue pajama pants low on your hips, no panty line suggesting you’re commando under them, “Fuck.” He breathes mostly to himself.

“Listen, I’ll replace the couch, but you seriously need to get a fucking grip and relax, you’re gonna have a brain aneurism if you keep this shit up.”

Only Eddie could turn a disaster of almost starting your house on fire to a joke about you being crazy and him getting horny in return. It had to be a talent to be so aloof from reality. So unphased by shit happening around him. Just placing a bandaid on things hoping they would work out.

But for you, it never came that easy.

You decide the only reasonable thing to do was to move the couch to the garage and try to rid the house of the lingering smoke smell. Thankfully the carpet and the coffee table were fine, but the couch was obviously a total loss. Eddie was surprisingly strong, maneuvering the couch almost by himself all the way to the garage, with your help of opening the doors. The way his muscles worked in his back as he lifted the couch and pulled it through the threshold made your stomach flutter. And you were pissed at the thought of it.

“Get some sleep,” Eddie ordered, after you got back into the house, yawning loudly and rubbing your eyes, “we can figure this shit out later.”

Normally you would have argued with him about not telling you what to do but you were exhausted. You climb back into your bed, and fall asleep quick. Dreaming of your entire house on fire and Eddie standing outside, pissing on the flames.

“What about this one?” Eddie asks, laying on a large brown sofa, sinking into the cushions like he’s submerged into quicksand.

He woke up around 9 AM, barging into your room, blaring Judas Priest and singing Love Bites at the top of his lungs. Scaring the absolute shit out of you and having you reach for the nailed bat Steve had given you after Nancy had moved out.

“Let’s roll butthole,” Eddie laughed as he sat on your bed, munching on a piece of toast, “ooh, and maybe skip the bra like you did this morning, that was so fucking hot.”

Jesus Christ.

“Get out,” you hiss, covering your chest with your blanket.

Eddie stands up and jumps on your bed pouting, “seriously you’re so boring, let them titties out and come jump with me.”

“I swear you get more immature by the minute. Now get the fuck out before you break my bed.”

“You wish I’d break your bed, oh my god!” He stops jumping immediately, “Tooty! Am I the first guy to be in here?”

You get up immediately, wrapping your throw blanket around you and grabbing Eddie by his foot trying like hell to yank him off your bed.

“Ow, stop you’re hurting me,” he jokes in a mocking, deadpan voice.

You’re slapping him anywhere you can reach him, throwing your pillows at his head, anything to get the perv out from your sheets. He’s laughing rolling around on your bed, moaning your name loudly.

“Eddie Munson I swear, I’ll slash the tires on that shit box van of yours out there if you don’t get out of my room!”

“Oooh, felony charges? Goddamn you’re gonna make daddy cum.”

You grab your clothes from the closet and retreat to the bathroom. Huffing and stomping the whole way, slamming your door so hard the windows in your room rattle.

You’ve been looking around the Big Boy’s furniture mart for at least three hours. Eddie insisted on trying every single couch they had. And you weren’t talking about just laying on them or testing their firmness.

“Hey, can you lay down and I’ll get on top so I can see how it feels? I need to make sure I can reach the right angles if ya catch my drift,” he says with a shit eating grin and a wink. “Or better yet, I’ll sit and you get on top, gotta make sure the ladies knees are comfy too ya know?”

You swat at his arms, “you’re such a fucking pig, Munson.”

“With a fat—“ interrupted by the sales clerk asking if everything was okay, you smile awkwardly and sit down next to Eddie, testing the enormous brown couch, “wallet.” He finishes, a smile on his lips as you roll your eyes.

“This one is good, c’mon sit down and try it out.” He purrs, wiggling his eyebrows.

You’re standing beside him clutching your purse, his long legs are bent at the knee and spread out wide. Arms on the back of the couch, claiming his space, spread like a king.

“No,” you complain, “If you like it, get it, I’m tired and I just want to go home.”

“Why? The Virgin Mary got a big date or something?” he says, with a mean laugh.

He’s such an asshole. If you weren’t playing his little games he’d turn into such a fucker.

“Jealous?” you say, invading his space, voice dipped low, tracing circles on his denim knees.

His breath hitches in his chest at your light touch, but you don’t stop there. Sauntering up to the sales counter you work your magic.

With a little flirting and the perfect placement of your arm under your heaving chest while leaning over the counter, chewing on your pen and running it down your neck and into the slit of the one too many unbuttoned buttons on your blouse with the dorky sales manager sporting a receding comb over, you get free same day delivery, even on a Sunday.

Impressed, and shocked Eddie asks, “Now how did you manage that one Tooty?” he asks his head dipped by your ear as you walk towards the door, “thought you were the head nun at Saint No Fun.”

You lick your lips, laying the charm on thick, “Think you’re the only one who can flirt and make someone uncomfortable?” You ask, looking up at him and batting your lashes.

Wrong.

That was the wrong thing to say to him. And you walked right into it.

A smug smile spreads against his lips, accompanied with lowered eyebrows and a deep groan to his voice, intruding on your personal space, “so you admit that I make you uncomfortable?”

Your cheeks heat and you slither away from him, buttoning your shirt higher and mumbling about how disgusting he is while walking fast out of the store and making your way to Eddie’s van, your sandals clicking on the asphalt.

Walking through the door to outside feeling the sun beat down on his curly mess of hair, he can’t help but laugh at you storming away.

“Don’t run from your feelings, sweetheart,” Eddie calls from the parking lot, “I’m a give— oh relax bitch I’m not talking to you!” He yells to a woman ushering her two children inside the store as she glares back at him, frightened when he places the infamous devil horns on his head and flicks his sinful tongue out.

He climbs back into the van, laughing maniacally and blaring Metallica’s Wherever I May Roam. He looks over and sees you shrunken down in the seats, covering your head with your arms trying to make yourself as small as possible. Avoiding being seen with him with all your might.

“At some point in time princess, you’re gonna have to give up this facade that you’re some high and mighty broad.”

“I don’t think that—“ you say sitting up right and forcing the heat from your cheeks, “I just don’t want to be seen with you in public anymore than I have too, plus I really think seeing you humping the furniture burned a hole in my brain.”

“It was quite a sight wasn’t it, wait until you experience it first hand— you’ll have to go to church begging for forgiveness.” he finished with a whisper.

You roll your eyes, disgusted with his constant perverted mind spewing sexual comments.

“Do you ever, just— I don’t know, have a normal conversation that isn’t based around your penis and all the things you’d fuck if given the opportunity?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, turning down his music, “When did you get so boring? I swore you were never like this when I knew you. Eyeball’s little sister. Thee Tooty. Meanest girl in her grade. Stealing cigarettes from the gas station. Sneaking out at night to catch a ride with the freak to the nearest party, you were cool back then. Now you’ve joined the fucking convent in virgin town capital of Lame-ville, USA.”

You had forgotten about Kev’s nickname, Eyeball. Eddie had made it up after he had gotten a fishing hook through his eyelid back in their sophomore year. Eddie was at your house almost all the time, him and your brother were as thick as thieves, and sometimes they were just that. He always invited you along, telling Kev it was alright. After he had graduated in ‘85 and Eddie stayed behind, Eddie became your outlet, bringing you and his hellfire idiots, your own classmates, to parties because you didn’t have a car. Swearing to Reefer Rick, that you little goons were cool. ‘Specially Tooty’ he’d say, announcing that you were Eyeball’s sister with a toothy grin.

Seems like such a long time ago that you were all just stupid kids, living for the weekend and a shared bottle of strawberry hill Boones Farm on the way to a party, now half of you were in serious relationships, or college. But you were still here in Hawkins, cutting the hair of the rich while you could barely balance your mortgage and utilities.

People like you and Eddie never got out of small towns. Live, breathe, die.

The end.

No happy endings.

“I’m not a nun, you inconsiderate prick,” you yell at him, “I just don’t think fart jokes, or shitting with the door open and belching contests are funny.”

Eddie pulls his eyebrows together annoyance splattered on his face, “yeah, I’m pretty inconsiderate, just dropped hundreds of dollars to get princess Tooty a new couch, how fucking dare I?”

“You’re the one that burned the other one down!” You holler back at him, losing any shred of self-control you have left, “ I wouldn’t have asked you to do that and you’re the one who volunteered to buy it in the first place!”

“Well, you didn’t really give me a choice standing there with those sad fucking eyes acting like I just fucked your sister and shot your parents in the face.” He sneers back, nostrils flared, driving like a bat out of hell through Hawkins.

You’re pouting, crossing your arms and huffing loudly as he continues.

“I swear to God there’s not a single fucking thing that I can do right for you Tooty,” he snaps, knuckles tight against the steering wheel. “It doesn’t matter what it is what I will, or won’t do you just have it in your head that I’m the worst fucking person in the world.”

You sit there stunned, face crumbled into anger as you stew pissed off beyond belief at his bullshit remarks. He pulls into the driveway, stomping on the brakes and having you lurch forward as he throws the van in park.

He turns to face you. A ringed finger pointing in your face as he gets closer.

“Like I said earlier, sweetheart, you want to hate me? Get in fuckin’ line, this whole goddamn town hates me and I don’t give a fat rat’s ass what anybody thinks of me, especially a stuck up brat like you.”

You’re both breathing heavy, the tension between you both thicker than oatmeal. You can feel his breath on your face, your cheeks are heated and his are tinged pink. His eyes dip down to your lips for a split second before he shakes his head. He jumps out slamming the door hard with a loud thud, stomping his way through the garage.

You mull over your emotions, here you were again, but this time you got the best of him.

Eddie: 1

Tooty: 1

In all the years of knowing Eddie, you’ve never seen him that pissed off. Sure he got worked up about stupid society norms in school but this was different. He was pissed, yelling in your face in the van.

You were never afraid of him, the whole town might be but you had no reason to be. Not from a guy with split ends and in serious need of a deep conditioner. He was just as stubborn as you were. Refusing to bend.

The couch was delivered in record time, your tits really putting the delivery boys to the test when they said you were their only delivery for the day, marked mandatory.

When Eddie arrived from the doorway of his bedroom, arms above his head hanging onto the frame, a cigarette hung between his lips, he was still mad but truly astonished at their arrival only twenty minutes after you had gotten home.

He flops on the couch as soon as they leave, the delivery idiots still drooling over you working up the courage to ask for your number until Eddie made a sadistic comment about getting the cat out of the freezer for the ritual sacrifice had them running back out to the truck, whispering Hail Mary’s and making the sign of the cross as they ran.

“Fuck,” he exhales, kicking off his boots and putting his stinky socks on one arm, his head on the other unzipping his jeans, and slotting a ringed hand down the front of them, Al Bundy style, “can’t wait to break this thing in, need’ta christen the whole house yet too.”

Oh for fucks sake.

“Were you this nasty while you lived with your uncle?”

He closes his eyes as he answers you, snuggling his head and hips into the cushions, a leg thrown up on the back. “He works nights, but my neighbors knew that when the trailer was rockin’, don’t come knockin’.”

You scoff, “I just have a hard time believing that anyone would willingly want to fuck you.”

“Well believe it baby, they don’t just call me ‘the freak’ because I’m into metal and have long hair,” he says, opening his eyes for your reaction as he grabs his dick through his jeans at the base and wiggles the length around.

Your stomach burns as you walk away, half disgusted at him for being so crude, and more disgusted with yourself for looking.

The only way you can combat the lingering heat of turmoil in your stomach is by keeping your hands and your mind busy. You change your clothes into some cotton pajama shorts, the old ratty Garfield slippers you’ve had since the 8th grade, and a baggy shirt with the Marlboro logo on the breast pocket and printed fully on the back. You start with baking a loaf of banana bread, the same recipe Karen Wheeler passed down to Nancy, and Nancy passed down to you.

You begin to whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. A sense of calm takes over your body as you remember the days of having Nancy as a roommate. A vast difference to the hellion who’s snoring on the couch right now. Your mind wanders, questioning why the tension between the two of you in the van could have been cut with a knife.

You despised him, the thought of him making your stomach churn like curdled milk. He was skating on thin ice and if you were stronger, you’d have kicked his ass out by now. But Eddie was right about a few things. After Kev left for college it was just you at home, but Eddie stayed around. Watching out for you at parties, threatening to kick anyone’s ass who got too close to you.

You mash the bananas and set them aside, using the handheld mixer you had been gifted to beat together the butter and brown sugar. The light pales of yellow swirling with the chestnut granules of the brown sugar.

You remembered how he was dating Chrissy during his senior year. How Chrissy, yourself, Eddie and Chad would go bowling on Sundays after brunch at the Cunningham’s or how sometimes Chrissy would drive the three of you to go to Eddie’s shows at the hideout, sweet talking her way to the owner so you could all support him. How messed up he had been after she broke up with him. To this day you don't know the reason. You wondered if he knew what happened between you and Chad.

You add the dry ingredients to the wet ones. Adding the eggs one at a time, the soft plump yolks slipping free from the shells and landing gently on the forming mixture.

So many things had gone unsaid. Different aspects of life taking you both in opposite directions but now suddenly back again, but under very diverse circumstances.

The banana bread mixture is scraped into a loaf pan, and tossed into the oven, the timer set to sixty minutes.

You had to admit that having Eddie around gave you a small inkling of comfort. Almost as if you weren’t alone. Something you hadn’t felt in years.

You really must be crazy. Eddie Munson giving you comfort? What kind of dream land were you living in. Clearly the banana bread hasn’t given you any sort of calm, better make muffins next.

Later that night you’re lining pasta noodles in a baking dish, layering them with ground beef sautéed with an onion and pasta sauce, and ricotta, mozzarella and Parmesan cheese. The small kitchen smelling delicious, and the counters full of chocolate chip muffins and the banana bread you had made.

Turns out there’s a lot you can get done in the 5 hours Eddie has been passed out on the couch. Turtle waxing the bathroom floors, scrubbing the baseboards in the living room, reorganizing the fridge and wiping everything down.

He’s still sprawled out on the new couch, his long hair wrapped around his face, soft snores whirling through his nose.

Another hour later and supper is done, you’re standing at the stove cutting short horizontal lines through the lasagna opposite of the way the noodles are laid, when Eddie comes up behind you, warm crumbles of muffin between his lips as he whispers, “shit Tooty, did’ya take home-ec? This is delicious.” You jump almost ten feet high, shrieking and cutting a horrible diagonal line through the lasagna.

“.. I failed ya know.”

“High school?” You answer after catching your breath, “Eddie, everyone in the Tri state area knows that.”

“Nah,” he mumbles through another bite, more crumbs falling from his mouth, “well I mean yeah, but home-ec. That’s why I didn’t graduate on time.”

You soon around with an incredulous look on your face, “how the fuck do you fail home-ec not once, but twice?”

He leans his long frame against the counter, hip jutting up against it as he crosses his legs at his ankles, you note that his pants are still undone.

“Well chef,” Eddie starts, licking his fingers clean from the ooey chocolate that melted onto them, “I kept burning everything. I couldn’t even get the eggs to boil right. I burnt the sleeve of Jason Carver’s letterman jacket while trying to make crème brûlée,” He says with a laugh. “That might have been on purpose, after he stiffed me for over 3 oz and two full bags of pre rolls.”

You chuckle, “not a loss there, that douche probably deserved it.”

Jason Carver would remain in Hawkins to run his dad’s business. Last time you had seen him he was at the salon, flirting with you while you trimmed his hair. Still a douche.

“Ah, he was just mad I stole his girlfriend,” he says with a little sigh, referring to Chrissy, “High school, what a blast!”

“All six years?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, your teeth biting down hard into your lower lip to hide your laugh.

Pushing himself off the counter and stealing another muffin he leaves the kitchen with a grin and yells over his shoulder, “piss off.”

Eddie’s on his third plate of “flat noodle pasta thing” or to anyone living on the planet for more than three years would call it, lasagna, and your homemade garlic bread chewed up between his teeth.

“Christ,” he exaggerates with a sigh, “I feel like this is my last meal on death row or some shit.” He smacks his lips and licks his fingers like a primate. Moaning with each swipe of his tongue like a porn star with a huge bush in the 70’s.

“Did you just compliment me on something other than my body or insinuating that you want to fuck me?” You say with a false shock, “I’m honored.”

“Yup, write it down in your little diary, ‘Eddie Munson said something genuine to me, made me feel pretty, maybe I will stop being mean and let him see my titties xoxo’.”

“…and we’re back to your regularly scheduled programming.” You announce in a monotone voice, pushing your lasagna around with your fork and taking a bite of the garlic bread.

Eddie turns his head and looks over at you confused on how this nice little night— not arguing, for once, eating the best thing he’s had in his mouth bedsides the pussy that was in it last weekend, could turn into you silently stewing, mulling something over that he had zero idea on how to understand.

“So— what ever happened to Eyeball anyway? Should I go ahead and assume he’s buried in a shallow grave somewhere?” Eddie asks, taking another mouthful of lasagna, “seriously, I haven’t seen or heard from him since he graduated and left this shithole town.”

You take a deep breath and let out a sigh, you couldn’t hide this from him, not when he’s here in your house, on the couch he just bought since he burned down the other one.

If you were going to tell him, there was no better time than right now. You take a sip from your Fresca and set your plate down on the coffee table.

“Kev went to the east coast. Full academic scholarship to John Hopkins.” You say curling your knees up to your chin, facing Eddie.

“Yeah, I think he mentioned that— I bet your parents were proud,” Eddie says, eyebrows raised, fingers hanging loosely over his knees, the last remnants of the garlic bread in one hand.

“Of course they were, he’s the golden boy, Mr. Perfect. He could do no wrong in their eyes.”

You weren’t just being a jaded little sister, it was the truth. Your parents favored him over you. Once it was let on that he was smarter than most kids his age, and a certain level of genius— that was it for you, you were casted aside like a wet paper towel, tossed to the heaping flow of garbage. Their whole life revolved around him.

“So what happened?” Eddie pressed, setting his plate down and twisting the rings around his fingers.

“Well, he went to college in August of ‘85 and at first was excelling in all of his classes, as if he were to ever do anything else. If you ask my parents, what happened next was out of character for him, and he was coerced into it, the wrong place at the wrong time kind of a deal, but you know how he was. He had a wild side to him.”

Kev was wild indeed. He was the one who convinced Eddie to borrow Wayne’s truck at thirteen and take it driving through Hawkins on a joyride to the gas station that led to all of the mailboxes in Forest Hills to be backed over and almost a gas pump. A smirk forms on Eddie’s face as you continue.

“I always thought it was his way of escaping— trying to be normal. Anyway— he made friends with some guys who were kinda like the Hellfire guys at home. Ya know nerds, who need haircuts.” A small laugh escapes from your lips.

“Easy, now.” Eddie jokes, shaking his mane, “This takes time and patience, ain’t built for the weak.”

You roll your eyes and keep going, “one of them was involved with dealing but it wasn’t just joints and half ounces like you did in high school. This was crack, and heroin.”

Rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palms, dreading this more than Eddie could ever know. “He started using—heavily. One thing led to another and he was eventually kicked out of school, turns out you actually have to show up to class and get good grades to keep an academic scholarship.”

“My parents tried to get him to move home, go to rehab, but he refused. He moved into a house with some other “friends” if you would even call them that.” You take another shaky breath, voice wobbly as you continue, “w-we aren’t exactly sure what happened— all we know is that he was driving down a one way, going double over the legal speed limit and he struck a woman— in broad daylight, killing her instantly.”

Pain is evident in your face as Eddie stares into your eyes, leaning forward on the couch, the venom of his words from last night and earlier this afternoon twisting like a knife in his chest. “Holy fuck.”

“He had been tripping out on whatever it was he was snorting, or smoking—I have no idea, for days, according to him, and he doesn’t remember anything. The woman was from a very well off family in Maryland— so they went for murder instead of vehicular manslaughter— and won. There were two other people in the car with him… they were both killed on impact. He’s currently known as inmate #90045, serving a life sentence and a sling of other charges in Roxbury Correctional in Hagerstown.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide at the thought of Kev in an orange jumpsuit, face behind bars. The fingers he was spinning his rings with stops, mouth agape.

You pinch your eyes shut and throw your head back, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “My parents sold the house the following year and moved out there to be closer to the golden son, still to this day refusing he did anything wrong, blaming it all on anyone but him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, shocked, “I can’t fuckin— wow.”

“Yeah,” you say, bringing your head forward, dipping into your chest. Sniffling quietly and rubbing your nose.

Eddie is dumbfounded by your admission. He thought for sure that maybe Kev was married and had kids so your parents went to help them out to be supportive grandparents. He would have never guessed that he was in prison doing hard time with a heroin addiction. And he certainly can’t believe that they left you here like discarded mail.

“But you stayed in Hawkins? By yourself, this whole time?” he says in disbelief. Outer corners of his eyes turning downward as his face frowns.

He feels like shit, he had been here the whole time in Hawkins and he didn’t have a clue that you were alone.

Shaking your head you answer slowly, shame on your lips. “The Wheeler’s ended up taking me in.”

“Tooty,” Eddie rubs his hand across his face, stubble catching on calluses as he thinks about the times he saw you at school. “Fuck man, why didn’t you say anything? Jesus, why didn’t any of them mention it?”

“I told them that if they told anyone I’d shave their heads,” you say proudly. A sense of pride present across your face, as you hold your head high.

This explains a lot, why you were bitter and downright miserable. He couldn’t believe this shit, how your family just left you, discarding you like you weren’t their only daughter. You were dealt a shitty hand, and all you had left to protect yourself was you. Eddie knew all too well how that felt.

His eyes are full of concern, wet with tears as he realizes how lonely you must have been.

“By the way,” you say, stretching your leg out and nudging him with the toe of your slipper, “that head shaving thing, goes for you too Munson.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. ” Eddie said, throwing his hands up in innocence. “I wouldn’t risk losing these curls over that, the ladies love this.”

Later that night Eddie laid in bed. Still completely blown away by the fate of his old friend. Not only that but what happened to you as well. When his dad went to prison, he had Wayne but you? You didn’t have anyone. Moving in with the Wheeler’s like you were a charity case, an orphan, with Ted Wheeler being the not bald Daddy Warbucks. He didn’t sleep worth a shit that night. His mind constantly running over the millions of conversations you had up until his graduation— not once did you let on that you weren’t okay.

🤍

HOPE YOU ENJOYED 💋 SEE YOU IN VOL IV

vol iv

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #roommate!eddie munson #roommate!eddie

2K notes · View notes

berriweb · 10 months

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ 3:19 AM ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. earth-42 miles morales x fem! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. both y/n and miles smoke weed, short mentions of some injuries

: ̗̀➛ a/n. feel free to laugh and correct me on any fucked up spanish because i highly doubt google translate will be accurate and 4 years of high school spanish can only get one so far /3 the 42! miles brain rot I’m suffering from is LETHAL

Every few minutes a gust of wind would send shivers down your spine and poke chill bumps into your skin as air blew through the cracked bedroom window. You did your best to block out the chaotic sounds of sirens and the occasional arguments and fights breaking out in the streets below the apartment complex by turning up the speaker playing soothing music ever so slightly to combat them. Striding across the room, the smell of lavender, citrus, and maybe just a hint of cherry blossoms filled your nostrils and the room as you carefully lit incense and candles scattered across the desk in the corner of the room, before using the same lighter to re-ignite the joint hanging from between your pointer and middle finger.

Bringing it up to your lips, you took a long drag before releasing it and making an attempt to blow towards the crack and avoid stinking up the room with the stench of weed and burning paper, hence the candles and cracked window.

When you flopped back onto the made bed after setting your joint in the ash tray, your gaze turned from the dimly lit ceiling to the glowing red alarm clock sitting on the nightstand next to you, 3:19 AM.

Reaching for your phone charging next to it, you squinted at the screen before using Face ID to unlock it, your previous messages with Miles already being displayed seeing as you couldn’t stop checking to see if there were any updates.

5:15 PM

M&M <3: Something came up, got some business with Uncle Aaron. I’m going to be late.

You: we still on for movie night ? :(

M&M <3: Of course, wait for me til then? Give me til 11.

You: i’ll keep your spot warm :) stay safe, i love you <3

M&M <;3: Te amo, Ma.

5:19 PM

You: oh!!! tell aaron i said hey 2, haven’t been around to visit n a while😞

12:01 AM

You: everything good?

12:45 AM

You: a little worried, txt me back when you can :(

2:00 AM

You: ?

Despite trying your best to ignore the nightly chaos ensuing outside, it was becoming increasingly hard to do so when your boyfriend of many years had recently admitted to being the Prowler and spending most of the nights he wasn’t with you out in the city carrying out orders on behalf of Kingpin, especially when he’d texted you earlier that day planning to be back by 11 at latest for a movie night, only to follow up a few hours later saying that something had come up.

He’d assured you when he first broke the news that he’d always come back home to you, but that never stopped you from worrying every once in a while that something awful would occur that was out of his control. Especially when he wasn’t replying to any of your attempts to check up on him.

What if he’d been captured? What if it was a mission Aaron sent him on and he somehow screwed it up? What if someone had screwed him over? A rouge villain? An assassination gone wrong? A stray bullet he couldn’t dodge fast enough? What if-

Creak.

Your unintentional spiraling into horrific ‘what if’ scenarios was interrupted by the sound of rusted metal grinding against another, your head tilting up in less than a second to see a clawed hand further pushing up your window frame.

‘Speak of the devil.’

The relieved expression on your face couldn’t be hidden as you nearly jumped up from your spot on the bed to his side as he crawled through your window, with an admittedly suspicious gait when he stepped back from the window.

“You’re back! What took so long?” You chirped as you stood. Normally you would’ve avoided bombarding him with questions as soon as he’d come back, seeing as he’d likely already been dealing with enough before arriving, but he’d never come home this late before.

The plates on his mask pulled back to show his gorgeous, as usual, yet tired face behind it, exhaustion pulling at the ends of his lips. “Lo siento mami, tomó más tiempo de lo que pensaba, I got caught up with some bad people,” he hummed while carefully removing his clawed hands and leaving them resting in your desk, the rest of his geared suit coming off after until he was left in just his shirt and some nice sweatpants. Without all of the extra gear, you had a better chance to size him up before he pulled you into his embrace.

You suspected he kept it brief to avoid/distract you from worrying about him, which was hard to do when you noticed the slight discoloration on his ankle when part of his pant leg moved and his attempt to not put as much pressure on that foot when he walked, paired with the way his nose scrunched when he moved and his right side of his torso flexed.

Part of you admired his dedication to protecting you from knowing too much about what he did as the Prowler and trying to be a role model for you. The other part of you thought he was a fool for not letting you in and allowing you to help, which you often voiced your opinion on.

“They had you at it for hours? Are you alright?” You buried your face into his chest to get a whiff of his cologne and what you were sure was a hint of blood and outside. He mirrored your actions by resting his head on top of yours, making you appreciate past you for choosing to oil your scalp earlier that night.

“I’m alright, but why are you still up? I’ve told you about-” “I’m awake-” you cut your boyfriend off before he could start to lecture you, which you didn’t want to hear no matter how much you loved his accent, “because my boyfriend promised to be home for movie night but instead left me worrying for his safety all night then has the nerve to lie to me when he finally makes it back hours later.”

A look you’d learned was his attempt at hiding his guilty conscience crossed his face before he rose a brow at your accusation of lying. “Wait, wha-” this time he cut himself off when your arm slithered back from around his waist and you used to fingers to dig into his side, causing Miles to jerk back and wince, holding his side.

"¡Hijo de puta! What’s your deal Y/N?! Eso duele como el infierno! Jesus-”

You tried (and failed) to hold back from giggling at his irritated gaze before grabbing him by both hands and leading him to your bed, practically forcing him to sit down at the edge, not that he tried to fight back.

“Consider it karma, Miles. If you’re gonna go out and do dangerous shit at least don’t lie to my face about it,” you tsked, kneeling down as you ignored the pointed glare and mean mug he sent your way as his nose scrunched and he muttered something under his breath about you being cruel. Lifting the side of his shirt up, you eyed the damage his assumed rivals must have caused before he came, black and purple bruises littering his side in different colors and shades. You sucked your teeth, looking up at him with narrowed eyes which he only responded with by looking off to the side and biting the inside of his cheek.

Moving down, you pulled his pant leg up to see matching colors on his ankle, and given his previous limp you’d have to take a guess as to what happened. He hardly ever let you treat him in any capacity, which was mostly due to him feeling the need to always be treating you, but judging from the look in your eyes Miles knew he didn’t really have a choice this go round.

“It looks sprained, and those bruises are gonna take forever to heal. Do you need an ice pack?” “Please.” You we’re already rising to your seat, not waiting for a response before you quickly and quietly left your room to go retrieve one from the kitchen without waiting your parent(s).

When you returned, you were carrying an ice pack, along with some bandages to keep it in place and a small snack just in case he hadn’t eaten in a while, and knowing how he gets when he prioritizes being the Prowler over everything else, he likely hasn’t. He’d taken the liberty of finishing off the rest of your joint, evident by the evidence still being in his hand and the smoke blown into your mouth when you leaned in for a quick deep kiss before kneeling once again to work on his ankle the best you could. You were by no means a professional, but your attempt was better than leaving it alone and your guilty conscience wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to.

As you worked in silence the initial tension in the air seemed to ease up, partially due to the weed, but you couldn’t help but still be slightly bothered by how worried you’d been for him. Yeah, he made it back relatively okay this time despite his lateness, but what about next time, and the time after that?

“Y/N.”

Miles’ voice pulled you out of your thoughts, mainly due to the fact that he hardly ever called you by your first name, and you realized that you’d been quietly staring at the floor for a while after finishing up treating his injuries. You could feel him reach down to grab both your hands and pull you up to his feet until you were standing between both of his legs looking down at him.

“You worry too much,” he started, but that didn’t help at all to ease your mind. “You don’t worry enough! Miles, you were supposed to be here hours ago. How can you expect me to just sit around and go about my normal routine knowing that you’re out their risking your life nearly every night? I can’t do that for you and you know that!”

Miles felt guilt creeping up his throat, this felt like a long overdue conversation. “I don’t expect that of you, but what do you want me to do mami? I can’t just drop out and you know that. All of this- I do it for you, for us, you know I can’t just back out now, it’s my only sense of normalcy ever since-” he didn’t finish his sentence, but you didn’t need him to. You couldn’t bear to look him in eyes, your heartstrings tugging painfully at the reminder of how he ended him the way he was now.

You’d been there for him through the worst of it, when his father died, when the city went to shit. It was awful for a very long time, your only glimpse of hope being when Miles seemingly started regaining a sense of who he was long after the fact. You’d been happy for him, encouraging him to go out more and constantly reminding him that you were there for him. Unbeknownst to you, the “healthy” outlet he’d been using to cope with the fact was sneaking out with his Uncle to commit crimes on behalf of some of the worst known criminals. You’d be lying if you said you approved, that you were okay with what he did and that you thought Miles was too, but you’d learned to accept it on account of the fact that there really wasn’t any other option. You knew you couldn’t even entertain the thought of not always being by his side, you needed him just as much as he needed you.

You couldn’t argue with his point and couldn’t hold eye contact, trying to look off to the side to avoid his hardened gaze but he was quick to gently take hold of your chin and turn your head back to him, making a warm feeling crawl up your neck.

“Siento haberte preocupado, mi amor. Do you remember the promise I made you when I first told you?” He asked.

It was a random callback, but you remember it as clear as day, the night you’d shown up at Miles’ house to surprise him with a gift you found at the mall which reminded you of him, sitting in his room awaiting his return only for him to crawl in through the window clad in Prowler gear mid-unmasking. You swore you could still occasionally hear the sound of your jaw hitting the floor.

“You promised that you’d never keep another secret from me,” you recalled with a small sigh, feeling your shoulders drop.

“And?”

“And…that no matter what you’d always come back home to me.”

“Dije que nunca te dejaré esperando a alguien que nunca volverá a casa,” Miles’ hands caressed your sides before falling still at your hips. “I promised to always, no matter what, come back, no?”

Your hands fell down to his shoulders, tilting your head until your foreheads were touching and you could feel his breathe hitting your collarbone.

“I’m sorry baby, I just…”

“No need to apologize, mami, I don’t blame you.”

His words ease your concern, but you know that the issue is too big for one conversation to solve. At the same time, however, it’s also out of concern.

Deciding that you’ve stressed yourself out more than enough for one night, you move away from him to flop back onto your bed before tugging on his arm to bring him down with you. Miles wraps his arms around your waist to bring you closer and you throw a leg over both of his while being careful to not hurt any of his already injured parts, burying your face into the crook of his neck while your free hand reaches to run your nails across the part for his braids.

“They got you good, huh? Messed up your pretty braids n’ everything, they were so neat,” you mumbled, making Miles chuckle.

“You can always do ‘em again for me, huh mami? You always do them the best.”

“And you missed out of movie night, I had the best trilogy picked out…” he could practically feel your pout on his neck.

“How ‘bout I make it all up to you tomorrow? No school, I’ll take you shopping and we’ll go eat someplace nice. Then we can watch all the movies you want, I can even find a decent theater for us, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that…” judging by the slur, he knew you were practically out for the night, which was confirmed by the yawn that followed your words. He let a small smile tug at his lips as he kissed your forehead before pulling the blankets up to covered the two of you.

“Buenas noches, mami.”

“G’night baby.”

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #spider man #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miles g morales #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales #e42 miles #e42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles g morales x reader #miles x reader #atsv x you #atsv fanfiction

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ieatangstforbreakfast · 7 months

Text

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ sorry for the delay, too busy girlbossing hehehe I made a closet for the reader, here’s the link || Her Closet

Chapter 3: To Dance For You, To Die For You

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, depression, family angst, plot progression, long ass chapter, reader lore, underaged smoking.

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous chapter || Next chapter

You || One hour ago

hey, u up already?

"… He sure is taking a while to answer."

You shut your phone with a click at the side, burying it down the sheets next to you.. "... I'm just gonna tell myself that he misses me so much, he can't put it to words."

You looked over to see the digital clock resting atop your nightstand, a bright 『 7:32 AM 』 gleaming right back at you.

… Maybe he’s still asleep.

It doesn’t take long before your attention drifts away from the subject. Unlike what Miles initially thought, you had priorities of your own. Sprawled before your table were books and notes you wrote all throughout your last lecture— neatly organized in pastels and glitters. You peered over the poorly written cursive, eyes cautiously and redundantly scouring through each word. Yet, despite the amount of time you've spent reading the paragraph, nothing at all entered your mind. That same suffocating scribble haunted you, and it sucked all the soul inside your body.

Saturday mornings.

Within the confines of your neat room, you still felt oddly and terribly exhausted. Which was ironic, as your routine was terrific as most would say. Ultimate Dream Girl was how your cousin put it. You woke up early, exercised, studied, ate good food, dressed in stylish clothes, went to school, and studied again after classes— and still, whenever you woke up every single day, you'd feel ultimately, and questionably exhausted.

It’s like you were sinking. Drowning even.

Yet you had to maintain your perfect, glamorous shell of a being. Even if it meant sleeping less these days.

But Miles took the boredom out of your humdrum life. Only he managed to tease out traits in you that even you didn't know existed— a bluntness paired with a foul mouth, and a sense of genuine lightness. He made you feel like your best self, and what was most ironic was the fact that your best self didn't have to be this talented, sophisticated, multi-achiever genius who managed to seamlessly shoulder adult matters— your best self just had to be happy.

And Miles made you genuinely, wholesomely, and incredibly happy.

Only Miles managed to eradicate the burden of carrying your family name. Around him, you were just you. A dumb, pretty teenager with a passion for art.

And that absolutely terrified you.

Peering over your books, spots of white shroud your vision. Like a feather, your head felt oddly light. You try to shake your head to refocus on the paragraph, only then you notice the blotches of red trailing down the page like splatters of paint.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Your fingers cascade over your nose, only then noticing the bloody mess running down your lip. You cuss, bolting off your seat to grab the tissue box sitting above the vanity.

“Miss?” One of the maids called out from outside your door.

You drag the sheets of tissue over your nose, muffling your voice as you answered. “What is it?”

“Your tango practice will start soon. Would you like me to prepare your clothes?”

“.. That would be nice, thank you.”

As her footsteps echoed away, you lull your head down, hand gripping onto the edge of your table. It gushed out like an open faucet, and this hammering in your head had you kneeling down to the floor.

“Oh my God, what is that?”

“Quickly, take a picture.”

“Get moving, people.”

The endless wails of the siren. Deafening, unyielding, and alarming. What was once the symbol of hope, was now all that silenced New York.

The lights of red and blue emanated through the streets like a ghost. Those who watched whispered among themselves, turning their heads from the glares of the officers who’d circled the establishment. Above the sign stood what was once the glory of Senator Barlowe’s billboard— now trashed with a chilling message spray-painted in bloody red.

『　ＮＥＶＥＲ　ＦＯＲＧＩＶＥ．

ＮＥＶＥＲ　ＦＯＲＧＥＴ．』

The police figured to take down the board, ushering the media and the people away. Though you can never truly silence the people, the people only learn to talk quietly. It’s how the world works, Miles thinks. You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.

His figure appears above the buildings like the menace all of upperclass society viewed him as— the emblem of his chest shining brighter at the bottom of the billboard. A shameless warning from the vigilante. A warning for the oppressive, a threat for a threat.

An eye for an eye. A life for a life.

Miles dreamt of it: losing you the same way he lost his father.

An image of you dying in his arms. The stain of your blood in his hands, and the touch of your body growing colder. As he held you close in that illusion, he felt your heart slowly easing to an inevitable stop. There, Miles knew he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another person to the wickedness of the system.

So he plotted.

The digitalized purple of his mask gleamed in the foggy morning, the fingers of his gauntlet gripping on the empty can of red paint in his palms, crushing it with a single gritty grasp. Miles looked at his masterpiece, the image of the man’s face all painted in red. He figured to beat the old thing up himself, had he had the chance— but New York won’t change from the decision of one vigilante. The people have to wake themselves up, to untie the blindfold of fear around their eyes.

Because once that fear fully unfolds, it’s never going to blind you again.

You || Five hours ago

hey, u up already?

Still no reply.

"From the top in three, two, one!" Marks the start of the bandoneon.

Emerging from the band, you approached the center with steady, elegant steps. Your heels clack against the wooden floors, the hem of your dress tickling your ankles. Your hands gently glide down your body along to the dramatic rhythms of the orchestra. Across the room stood your partner, reaching a hand out while circling your presence— as if to admire your entirety.

"Step, step, step. Spin!" The choreographer bellows. The boy reaches for your hand and spins you into his arms, dipping you down. Your fingers paint the floor with one swipe, head down to feign shyness. When you're brought back, your hand glazes down his cheek, stepping back with his arm wrapped around your waist.

"Keep your head high, shoulders back!"

In the passion of the tango, your grace was your skill— yet your indifference was your detriment.

Your hand steadily grips his shoulder, each step like a tease in average courtship. In the midst of the music, your head's riddled with a million thoughts. With each passing thought, your moves become harsher, and meaner.

Grip tighter, moves sadder.

With each pass of the violin, the knot in your mind tangles and tangles. While gawking into the stage light above, you shut your eyes tight to shield your view. And when your partner's fingers brush against the curve of your waist— you think of Miles.

The memory of his grip on you was forever ingrained in your mind. And when you turn around once more, suddenly, in your hazy mind, Miles stands before you, holding your hand above your head to ready you for a twirl.

In the delusion of your comfort, a sense of ardency replaced your indifference.

Madame Eleanor marveled at the view of the spark before her, glowing like a vibrant vermillion.

But as the final pose commenced, you were disappointed to see a pair of blue eyes instead of Miles' brown ones.

"Perfect!" Eleanor gasps, her hands clasped together with a clap. "Finally! My goodness, how astounding."

You awkwardly pull away from your partner, your body drenched in sweat. Eleanor approaches you with a smile too wide for her cheeks. "That was amazing, dear. All four weeks of practice finally paid off." She sighs, placing a hand over your shoulder. "You dance just like your mother."

The words were harmless initially, but to you it was anything but praise.

You fake a smile. "Thank you."

"I think we've done enough today. Let's wrap it up and call it a day. Great job, everybody!"

Only then the burden was eased off your shoulders. Immediately, you walk towards the bench to reach for your backpack. You dip your hands inside to fish out for your phone, a variety of notifications written across the screen.

Despite the many notifications and boxes your phone bore, you endlessly scrolled down in search of one name and one name only.

Miles || 7 minutes ago

ye im up sorry ab that

kinda busy rn

what time r u gonna go btw

You look around in search of the clock, girl-mathing your way to fix your schedule.

You || Just now

maybe around 6?? idk yet, hold on

nvm maybe around 6:30 to 7:30

You had a lot on your plate, and though you were full, you still have to devour all of what's on there.

Before you could even shut your phone, Miles' text bubble suddenly pops up.

Miles replied to you || Just now

js be on time

[Y/n] replied to you || Just now

damn u must miss me sm ;)

Miles looked over his phone from behind the screen of his mask— allowing it to unfold as he hid behind the brick walls above the roof, sinking down to the floor in exhaustion. Even then, he felt utterly warm just from the sight of your message alone. With a single press, he slips his hand off from the gauntlet just to hold his phone better.

He lolled his head sidewards, pondering over what to reply.

『 so what if i do?| 』

His thumb brushes against the send button, mind in complete tatters.

"... Hey." His head perks up at the sound of his uncle's voice. "What’chu doin lyin around? Get yo punk ass up, we’ve got lots to do."

"Y-Yeah, sorry." He stammers, slipping his phone into his pockets.

You glare at the screen before you.

「 Seen two hours ago 」

Well, fuck damn it, Miles. If you don’t miss me, might as well just say it. Does the G in your name stand for Ghoster or what?

“Are you even listening to me?”

You snap away from the abyss when the sound of your brother’s voice pulls you back to reality. The smoke exits your tongue as your eyes go past the black screen, welcoming the sight of your brother’s frustrated glare. His mere presence was an annoyance to you— as he was always scourging through your work like an animal desperate for scraps. It was pathetic. Despite all that, the both of you still managed to live under one roof.

It was your most common hobby to hang around the balcony to drink whatever beverage you felt like drinking. And at this time of autumn, hot cocoa was your most preferred drink, paired with any pastry you craved. As miserable as you were, you preferred suffering in your wealth. After all, it was yours to keep.

And yet despite your efforts to unwind, your pest of a brother suddenly appears like an unwanted guest.

“Can you stop smoking?” He pleads. In spite of his cries, you take another hit and blow. Antonne only gives up with a disgruntled groan.

“Did you see my message?”

“I did.”

“… Why didn’t you reply?”

“I did reply.” You pulled the mug to your lips. “I replied with silence.”

“You’re insufferable.” He clicks his tongue, sitting before you. Even then, you spare no time to even glance at him. Your other hand traces past the notes you’ve written over the documents, fingers flipping through the pages for a triple-check. Antonne stretched his neck, taking a peek at the title, and yet, you rest your palm over the private contents decisively.

“What do you want?” The sentence comes off too harshly for your own liking, yet it doesn’t shake you. Antonne insists.

“I want us to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

The mug clicks against the marble table as if to mark the end of your words. Antonne clasped his hands together, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. “I know it’s a difficult task, but direly, [Y/n], in all seriousness, you’re not inheriting the hotel.”

“I already know all that.” You interject. “And I still won’t drop my responsibilities.”

“What for?” He queries. “You’re bound for a life outside of all this mess— why do you keep bringing yourself into this life?”

You clamp your fist.

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

Antonne sat there, all the words in his mouth vanishing— leaving only a speechless, baffled face of himself that only worsened your mood. For a moment, his jaw hangs open, his mind ravaging through his thoughts to form a sentence.

“I don’t understand. Why— why are you doing this?”

For a moment, the thought of bursting crosses your mind, though right after the thought followed this shame of vulnerability. After all that, the only words that exited your mouth were,

“You would never be able to understand.”

“Can’t you at least—“ Antonne huffs, running a hand through his hair. “[Y/n], if this is about what happened to mother—“

“Mention her one more time, I dare you.”

Ruthless. A familiar air. You were too much like your father, and it was the most tragic thing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” He chokes out, knuckles growing paler from the grit of his wrist. “All this, all of what happened, you’re—“

“I have a meeting with dad.” You stand up, picking your things together. “Go find someone else to plague with your questions.”

“You’re irredeemably suffocating.”

“We’re siblings for a reason.”

Miles || Just now

im On my way!

wtf is that autocorrect

i meant to say im omw

im just gonna pick up something for a moment

The bell sang a soft chime upon his entrance. The warm air welcomes him, with a fire behind the bars of a furnace, and the smell of freshly baked goods and hot chocolate permeating throughout the establishment. Miles felt the chill of autumn roll off his gloved hands, embracing the warmth that felt very much like you. He peers over the aisles of bookshelves lined up before a fake brick wall, picturing the idea of sitting next to you with your nose buried into some novel, allowing him to lean his head over your shoulder to listen to you whisper about some paragraph.

He wanders and wanders, taking note of the chalk-written menu above the cashier, the half-eaten pies beneath glass domes, and the homely pictures of the owner’s life story hung all across the walls.

Next to the counter, a lone, middle-aged woman stood with a mug and a rug in her hands. Her blue eyes flit open— and it reminds him of the dull grey he often witnessed during a heavy downpour, and she acknowledged him with a single nod.

“Afternoon.”

Miles returns the gesture. “Afternoon, ma’am.”

His steps take him closer to the counter. It must’ve been suspicious somewhat— him, who was dressed in tones of dark purple and black like some thief, standing by the entrance for far too long. Miles had to admit, his presence was unbefitting of this whole cozy theme, and yet when he imagines you there with him, suddenly, he didn’t feel all too out of place anymore.

Miles looked at the woman, only then recognizing her from the pictures on the wall. Instead, now, she’s aged past her prime, and her blonde hair was shorter and frizzier. Her eyes were now tucked behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, having to squint just to study his presence.

“I-I just had to ask..” Miles gulps. “Are you guys perhaps.. Hiring r’now?”

“Hiring?” The woman raised a brow. “Why? You wanna apply?”

“Oh no! Not me,” He frantically explained. “I-I’m inquiring after my girl— my girlfriend.”

Embarrassment bled into his freckled cheeks. Initially, he wanted to say the two terms, girl and friend, separately to explain you were just that (But were you, really?), instead the unsure label clumsily exited his lips.

Then again, it’s not like you’d correct him had you been there anyways.

“Your girlfriend?” The woman placed a hand over her hip, a southern sort of twang in her voice. “Why isn’t she the one asking me?”

“Oh— it’s just, she’s really busy, and I know she really likes this place.. God… Idonreallyknowhowtoexplainitbut,” She held a hand up to ease his pace, shaking her hand. “Hold on, lover boy. I can’t understand a single damn thing, hold your horses.”

Miles nibbled on his lower lip, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Basically, she mentioned about wanting to apply here but couldn’t find the time to ask, so just in case her schedule clears up, I wanted to know if you guys are up to hiring part-timers… So I can tell her.” He managed to explain in a much calmer way, watching carefully as the owner hummed.

“So you only really wanna ask?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, alright.” For a moment, she bends down to reach something beneath the counter. A second or two later, she stands right back up, slipping a crisp flyer towards him. “All the details are in there. If she wants to apply, tell her to call for me— the name’s Matilda, and you’re?”

“Miles, a-and my girlfriend’s name is [Y/n], by the way.” Miles beams, picking up the paper. He liked repeating that word, girlfriend.

“Alright, Miles. I’ll wait for your little girlie.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Looking over to the glass domes, Miles then added.

“Also, can I get like a slice of each pie you have?”

You || fifteen minutes ago

I’m already here

where the fuck are you smh

“One, two, three… Spin.”

Miles shuts the chain door behind him, eyes rummaging through the darkness in search of the voice’s owner. At the end of the hall, a dim light emerged along with a shadow dancing over the golden circle just behind a wall. The dark figure moved like a ghost, each step of her feet echoing throughout the subway. The boy neared like a moth to flame, holding the box of pies close to his chest as he neared and neared.

Slowly, he peeks over the wall, only to find you dancing along to something he couldn’t comprehend. You had your phone in your hand, and your headset on too. A count was on your lips, lasting in intervals of three to eight. Your steps were like pulses, and the way you had your hands up meant that it was likely a partnered dance, despite the evident gap, you carried the dance effortlessly well, even in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. You were too lost in the flurry of the Latin music that was melting into your ears like honey, and Miles was too lost in the sight of you. There he was, gawking like a little kid on Christmas day, with his lips half parted and eyes following the traces of your fingers.

He’d already known you were something of a dancer. The way you carried yourself, the way you walked, and the way you moved, Miles noticed it all; A sort of grace, or some sort of flow in the way you presented yourself.

Like a princess, little girls would say.

Yeah, like a princess. My princesa.

Only then, you twirled and met his gaze. You froze in terror as Miles placed his hand over your shoulder.

Do it, Miles! You can do it! Just like what Uncle Aaron taught you.

“Heyy…”

“… WHAT THE FUCK!”

Your phone comes flying out of your hands, landing straight into Miles’ abdomen with a powerful thud. He catches the gadget with a groan of pain and laughter, which comes out as a dying wheeze. You rush to his aid, pulling the box out of his grasp and placing it down.

“Holy shit! Are you okay? Why the fuck were you standing there like a fucking skincrawler— fucking hell, Miles!” You endlessly cussed, aiding him by the arm.

“… I couldn’t help it.” He heaved. “You looked like one of those inflatable tube dancers, jesus— HAHAHAHAHA“ And he’s back to howling in your face all over again, falling to the floor like a duck in search of air. You click your tongue and swat his shoulder.

“I bet you can’t even dance.”

“Yeah, that makes the both of us.”

“Oh I hate you so much.” You shove him lightly before burying your face behind your hands.

“… Why were you dancing anyway?” Miles eased, eyeing the darkness. “And why didn’t you turn on the lights? The whole damn scene looked kinda apocalyptic.”

You knelt next to him, nails digging into the fabric of your jeans. “Well, I kinda have this tango performance at school and it’s in two weeks… I’m still not all that confident with what I’m about to present, so I’ve been working my ass off to perfect it.” You waved your hand around. “And about.. This... I couldn’t find the damn switch.”

He shakes his head in disapproval, placing his arm over his knee. “God, you’re hopeless.”

You tilt your head, lowering your voice into a whisper. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“…. I can dance tango.” He dumbly grins. “I think— I mean, I’ve watched it before, and I’m hella great with my feet.”

“Is that a proposal to dance with me?”

Miles scoffed. “In your damn dreams.” He laughs, leaning his head over to the wall. There, you pout at him like some little kid.

“What? Why are you lookin at me like that?”

And the next thing he knows, he’s up with his chest pressed against yours, listening to the sound of your voice guiding him through the basic steps of the Latin dance. He takes your other hand in his, while your other is latched onto his shoulder. Carefully, his fingers creep up on your waist, the sensation silencing him.

“And then when I step back like this, you take your left foot forward, and we’re just going to do this back and forth.”

“Oh— okay, oh shit,”

“Ow.”

“Sorry.”

“Just think of it as a game, and follow my feet.”

Miles readily follows your words, uttering subtle apologies whenever he’d step on one of your feet. When he does get the eventual gist of it, the two of you prance around in short steps. Miles grew overly conscious with the sound of his breath, as you were too near that it was detrimental to his whole being. With your head down, you carefully watched his moves, completely anonymous to Miles’ staring. He was hoping you’d look up and catch him like you always do. You were so pretty like that.

“Very good.” You beam. “Damn, you really do dance well, huh?”

“Of course I do.” He clumsily twirls you into his arms, still catching you either way. “I got it from my mama.”

“I assume she’d be a greater dancer than you, though.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true.” He admits. “But hey, ain’t I a good partner?”

As you turned around once more, your faces inch closer, your lungs a little too short of breath. Your hand traces down the outlines of his arms, the tension between the both of you thickening. You could almost sense it, Miles begging you to give in, and you were bound to— eventually.

“Yeah, you’re doing great.”

Then again, you pull away, fingers brushing past and slipping away from his palm. Although you were the one distancing yourself, your hand reached out for his. You tried to fool yourself into thinking that it was just for the dance— but when you circle him, and when you notice that Miles couldn’t help but face your figure, no matter where it went— you were defenseless. He looked at you like you were the eclipse, a shadow that capered around the flashlight’s gleam like how the moon would collide with the sun. You swivel back into his grasp, and you couldn’t care less if it was anything but perfect, because it was only at that moment that you recognized tango in its truest form.

And it was through this dance that Miles realized he’d absolutely die for you.

As the ending commences, the two of you smile at one another. Miles, who grinned at you so lovingly, could hardly see the rue in yours. “You ain’t half bad.” He then states, easing a crack out of his limbs as he stretches. “That was some ground-breaking exercise, shit, I started feelin shit I ain’t never felt before.”

“Yeah,” You tiresomely added. “God, now I’m starving.”

His head perks up. “Actually, I brought some food today.”

“Oh?”

He gestured over to the box. “I bought like a fuck ton of pies for my mom to cheer her up.” Miles picked up the box, offering it to you with a nudge. “You can get only two.”

As he slips the lid off, you marvel at the pastries inside, mouth watering from the smell.

“This one’s butterscotch, blueberry, apple.. Chocolate and banana, pumpkin, and cherry… The fuck are you doing?”

Miles watched as you positioned your phone above the box, angling it well. “Taking a picture, dumbass.” You shot back. The flashlight gleams over the food with a quick snap. “Shit, it looks so pretty.”

“Okay, you ain’t eating shit.”

“Wait!”

You point the camera at him. “Pose in three, two, one.”

And he pulls up his middle finger with a blank face.

“Tsk. Not like that, Miles.”

And he pulls up his pointer finger, turning his pose into a peace sign.

As the photo snaps, you immediately look into your phone’s album, grinning stupendously wide. “Pretty boy, indeed.”

“.. Why’d you keep calling me that?”

“Because you’re pretty. I like pretty things and pretty people.” You answered as though it were too obvious. Miles shook his head, hardly saying another word. Yet in his mind, he couldn’t help but ponder.

But you’re prettier than me.

“Now, which one should I eat?” You pondered with a tune, eyeing each slice. “They all look so good.. God! Okay, I’ll take butterscotch, and uh, the chocolate and banana one.” You cautiously tug the wrappers to pull out each of the treats. Miles couldn’t help but playfully deride. “You choose like a kid.”

“Just because I chose the chocolate one means I’m a kid.”

You take the flashlight and place it down the floor before taking a seat. Miles follows suit, sitting beside you with his chin resting above his palm, unconsciously watching you devour the treat with your cheeks full like some chipmunk. You hummed with each bite, going on about how you adored the flavor. Even as you did so, Miles listened and stared, adoring the way you spoke and the way you boasted about the flavors. Then and there, he realized how much he liked seeing you eat, and at that moment as well, Miles knew he’d like to eat with you everyday in the far future.

As you finished your little meal, you licked the chocolate off your fingers, anonymous to the stain on your cheek.

“You got a little sum on your..” He points at the corner of your lip. You try to wipe it off, yet it simply smudges. His fingers naturally reach for your chin to clean it off. You lean in, not thinking much about the act.

“Is it gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” You sweetly beam.

Slowly, his fingers lift away from your chin.

You lean your head against the wall, heaving a short sigh. “That was absolutely delicious.”

“I bought it from that store we saw yesterday, down the block.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and uh,” He slips his hand into his pocket, fishing out the folded flyer. Hesitantly, he hands it over to you. “I got you something.”

“What’s this?” You airily query, unfolding the paper. You browsed into its contents, only then realizing that it was a part-timer flyer. Your jaw hung open, eyes switching glances between the contents and the boy beside you. “Wh-where did you get this?”

“I asked the owner.” He directly answered. “You wanted to know if you could.. Get a part time job, so I asked.”

“I—“ The mere act rendered you speechless. “Oh my god. This is… Why are you so nice to me?”

Miles’ head turns away. “I’m not being nice. I wanted to apply too.” He smoothly lied. “I got you a flyer just in case.”

【 Emilie Chocolat — We are now hiring! Open positions for: bookkeep, barista, cashier. Accepts part-timers. Must be at least fifteen years old. 】

“Oh, I don’t know if I could apply right now.”

“Why not?”

You chew on your inner cheek, cautious of your words. “I don’t really have the time to go to an interview right now. I’m very busy with school.. And at home..”

“Then go when you have the time.”

You think about it. “… Alright. I’ll try. Not entirely sure yet, but I’ll try.”

“Take your time.” Miles mildly suggested, as if to comfort. “You have all the time in the world, man.”

“… Yeah.”

You’d like the think his words were true. When it came to Miles, you find yourself a little too optimistic— a parallel of your usual self. You’d joked to yourself every now and then, that if the world was ending and Miles would tell you that there’s a cure, you’d believe him. And it wasn’t that you were easy to fool, no, it wasn’t that at all. You were quite smart, as mentioned by all those who watched you grow up, but since Miles’ entry into your life, you started optimistically letting things fall into place before scheming.

You didn’t know what to call it. Calling it infatuation was underwhelming for you. To say you simply like him didn’t feel enough.

Though you didn’t want to admit it too quick.

That’s how your mother fell anyway.

“Do you think,” You huff. “Do you think I can do it?”

Miles straightened his lips. “You probably can. You’re smart.”

You roll your eyes. “How’d you know?”

“Ion think someone dumb can lie so well about having band practice just to see someone at night.”

“I don’t lie often, Miles,” Your head lilts. “I lie only for you.”

“… By that, does lying to me also count?”

You don’t know how to answer. You can feel his expectant stare burning into your skin.

“…. It’s not about lying to you. There are just some things I prefer not to say.”

Your head pivots, finally earning the strength to look him in the eyes. Before he could even speak, you already knew what he was going to say. You knew him too damn well.

“If that’s the case, can I ask you about somethin?”

As you’re about to open your mouth, he holds up a finger.

“Don’t try to run away this time, and don’t lie. You’ve gotta swear on it.”

You raise your hand. “On God, I won’t lie nor will I try to run away.”

He brokenly nods, taking in a deep breath.

“… Then, who– who am I to you?”

233 notes · View notes

thesexydevils · 1 year

Text

The Psychologist

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only.

I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted anywhere even if you give credit. But please re-blog and comment. Thank you!

Pairing: Criminal/Mafia Bucky x female reader

Summary: You, a young criminal psychologist, takes up a task with the government to study and make reports on the worst criminals in NY. One of them is James Buchanan Barnes.

Warnings: 18+ only, Dark fic, Noncon, breeding, blood, violence, force. GIF is not mine!

“Hello Dr. L/N, I got the call just an hour ago. Are you sure you want to do that?” You were sitting in front of him in your black dress pants and a beige sweater.

“Director, I can see you are not a fan of this but it is my job to study and understand humans like them.” His humorless laugh interrupted you and then he looked dead into your eyes. “Humans? This place is not made for humans. This prison is for those who are the scums of the society. Even animals are better than the monsters we cage here.”

You looked out of the window, the sky was gray with dark clouds. It was pouring outside and the gloomy weather made you low spirited. You took a deep breath and looked back at the man sitting behind the beg desk.

“Director Foster, I understand your hatred and disgust for the prisoners or as you said monsters, but right now you are stopping me from doing my job. I am here, because the Governor has appointed me to make a thorough report on the most dangerous criminals. This report is not only to see how dangerous they are, but also to see how and why they become like this.”

You took out the official letter out of your bag and handed it over to him. “I know you are worried that he will put them in a normal prison or pardon some of the crimes, but I assure you that this will never happen. Our goal is only to prevent others from becoming monsters.”

Director Foster leaned back in his chair and thought for a minute. “Fine Dr. L/N, but realize that you are putting yourself in danger. These are not just some thieves or drug dealers, most of them are criminal masterminds. Some of them will study you as you will them and play mind games.”

You nodded and told him that you will keep that in mind. As the door opened you picked your bag and stood up. A guard stepped in to take you to the first inmate, but before you left the office you heard the Director again.

“ Doctor, 2 guards will wait outside the room when you are alone with the prisoners and their hands and feet will be cuffed to the chairs. But still don't go near them.”

“I understand Director. Thank you.”

On the way to the room you talked with the guard. Apparently not many guards lasted longer than 3 years. The longest one worked 8 years but last year he had a breakdown and never came back on duty.

According to the young officer, he was a tough man with a military background, but one of the inmates got under his skin and made him lose his mind.

“Officer Peterson, can you get the inmates file and then get him too?” The Officer stilled for a moment, it took a few seconds for him to react. He turned around and looked a bit uneasy about your request. “ Are you sure Doctor? Maybe you should start with someone else?”

“Officer, I am sure, please bring him first.” He nodded and left without a word. You looked around the room, it looked like an interrogation room. With 2 chairs and a small table in between. You sat down behind the table and read through the file.

Name: James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky

Born: 10. March 1984 in Brooklyn, NY

Criminal charges: 42 murders (31 first degree, 9 second degree), smuggling of weapons, drugs and humans, kidnapping, rape,...

Before you could read more the door opened, Officer Peterson entered the room. 2 other Officers were holding the tall man you were just reading about. He was roughly pushed down on the chair and the chains around his body were tightened and secured on the chair.

You thanked the Officers as they left the room and Peterson took his place outside beside the door.

You looked back at the man sitting in front of you, when he jerked his head and his long dark brown hair flipped to the sides. This was the first time you saw his face, he had a short untamed beard.

He was gorgeous, but him being a criminal left a bitter taste in your mouth, so you pushed all other thoughts out of your mind.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I am Dr. Y/N L/N. I am a criminal psychologist, my job is to understand the motivations of criminals, clinical evaluation of a defendant and criminal profiling. I work with the FBI and sometimes with the police too. You are one of the few people I will be profiling and making some reports.”

Your eyes met his, a cold feeling went down your spine. It was like his cold and dark eyes could see directly into your soul. But you still held eye contact with him, even knowing he was making a profile of you like you were making his.

You asked him questions about his childhood and parents, but he just sat there without answering any of it. After 40 minutes of trying to get him to speak up about his childhood, you stopped. The whole time he didn’t move, never said a word or looked away from you.

“Mr. Barnes, I will be back in 3-4 days and hopefully you will be more cooperative.” You called Officer Peterson in the room and in a few minutes he and 2 other Officers were untying him. As the three were about to leave the room you said to him. “Goodbye Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky!” You looked shocked at him, this was the first time you heard him speak. He only smirked at your reaction. The Officers pulled him out and closed the door, leaving you with Officer Peterson.

“That was weird, no one calls him Bucky here. All the other prisoners call him Barnes. Doctor, you should be careful around him. Barnes likes to play mind games.”

You nodded and sat down again. The officers brought another prisoner, but Barnes was the one you kept thinking of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Exactly on the third day you were back and entered the room when James Barnes was already on the chair and secured. You greeted the officers and took your seat behind the desk.

Like the last time his eyes were staring only at you. You took out your notepad and started talking. “ Mr. Barnes I hope today you will be more talkative than the last time. Can we talk today about your childhood?”

You heard him chuckle lightly. “Bucky, call me Bucky doll. Why should I tell you anything about me? Don’t you think I should get something out of it too?”

I saw the slight smirk on his face. “Mr. Barnes if you have forgotten then let me remind you that I am only a psychologist. I don’t have the authority to make any kind of deals or promises.”

He moved his head to the side and looked directly into my eyes. “Don’t worry doll, it is something you can do to make this fun for both of us. For the last time, call me Bucky or this conversation is over.”

The way he said the word fun, made your heart skip a beat. Not because you found it pleasant, but because it sounded more like a threat to you.

“Okay tell me Mr. Bar... I mean Bucky.” His tongue moved over his lower lip and he bit on it. “See it wasn’t that hard. I want to play a game. A game that wouldn’t be hard for you to play. The game is 20 Questions.” That took you by surprise and seeing his reaction, you could tell he was enjoying the expressions on your face.

“What the ...? Why this game? We are not teenagers or on a date.” He laughed, like a real genuine laugh. “Come on doll, it is not everyday that a beautiful woman comes in here to spend some time with someone like me. Just humor me a bit and I promise to behave and not ask any dirty questions.”

Bucky winked at you and you could only roll your eyes at him. His behavior shocked you. It was like day and night. You had to be careful around him and not share much information about you or your personal life.

“Okay fine, tell me about your family.?” “I had a normal family. My mother was a faithful christian and my father was a hardworking man in Brooklyn and then there was my older brother Nick. Joined the military and a few years later died in Afghanistan.”

You were about to apologize but were interrupted by him. “What is your favorite color?”

“Really? Purple. Okay what was the turning point in your life?”

“If you believe that something really bad happened that made me like this, then no, there was not a turning point in my life. Why did you become a criminal psychologist”

You took a minute to answer this question. “My sister was killed. Why did you become a criminal?”

“I am sorry about your sister.” Your vision narrowed at him and you could help but to scoff at his heartless apology. “No, you don’t. You felt nothing at all.” “ Well doll, that's what normal people say, don’t they?”

You snorted derisively at him. “Normal people? Bucky, you are far from normal people. Just answer my question.”

“Don’t be so cold, doll. It does not suit you and I wasn’t making fun of you.” His cold eyes turned mischief and he shifted his head to the side. “I always felt peaceful when I could bend people or situations to my will and to do this you need power. And power comes from money, the money that you can’t get by working a 9-5 job.”

“So you kill for money and what about the women you raped? They didn’t deserve that, no one does.”

His laugh was cold and humorless. “Doll, it’s my turn. Play fair and don’t be naughty. Why was your sister killed?”

Fury flooded you, as the dark thoughts came back. The room turned quiet, but your heart beat throbbed in your ears. You felt like the time had slowed and the clock on the wall was ticking louder. One minute turned into two and then into five, but he did not say anything or asked again.

A loud knock on the door told you that the time was over and you felt relieved knowing that now you could breathe normally again.

The officers entered the room, but Bucky kept staring at you without saying anything at all. He was pulled by two officers but before they left called you. “Doll, we will continue this in 2 days. I will be waiting for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost a week went by, but you didn’t see him again. Of course you were there and met with other inmates, but somehow you couldn’t talk to him again. Barnes got under your skin and it scared you, because you met many criminals but only a handful people were this manipulative.

You were in the prison waiting in the room for him. Not because it was your decision, but because you got a call from the prison director. The director told you that Barnes had beaten an inmate almost to death, because he was telling all that you were very beautiful and nice. Somehow Barnes heard him talk about you and broke 4 ribs, 3 fingers and his jaw.

The inmate was in intensive care because of the head trauma and Barnes was held in solitary confinement. But it didn’t go well, because he banged his head against the wall till he started bleeding. The only thing Barnes wanted was to see you again and so you were waiting again for him.

You heard loud footsteps outside and you prepared yourself for him. “Doll, you came. I have been waiting for you.” You were weirded out as he was smiling so brightly, like he hadn’t almost killed a man and then went full psycho on himself.

He willingly sat down and when the officers were ready he shooed them out of the room. “So Doll, tell me, what did you do last week?”

“Mr Barnes, do you think this is funny? You almost killed a man and then went crazy on yourself.” he only laughed at me.

“It is your fault, you shouldn’t have avoided me and then you visited other guys here. It made me angry and right now you are pissing me too. I have told you to call me Bucky.”

The way his mood changed scared you. But you were going to end this now. “Bucky, you are not a part of the group I am working with anymore. I don’t think we will get any clear results if I am going to do the clinical evaluation, that’s why my colleague will do it.”

You thought he would get angry at you but he just smirked and said. “Really, we will see about this later, but now let's continue our game. Last time it was my turn, but I am going to change the question for you. So you had a sister, are there other family members?”

You looked away pinching the bridge of your nose. “My personal life is none of your business. I know you are trying to manipulate and play your sick mind games with me, but I will not let this happen.”

You stood up with your purse and went to the door, but then you heard him speak again. “

Mr. D/N L/N your dad is a professor at NYU and your mom, Mrs. M/N L/N is a family lawyer. With 3 children, the oldest daughter was killed then you came and after you there is a brother who is studying law. Then there is your boyfriend who is an assistant district attorney. Met while working on a case 3 years ago, he just proposed to you a few weeks ago. How sweet.”

“How the fuck do you know this? Did you bribe a ward to get the information?” He chuckled at you and said, “It’s all about power, love. You think, just because I am in a prison I don’t have the power anymore? Of course I do have the power, why do you think they didn’t take any actions? Because doll, I have the money and if I say jump they will only say how high.”

The anger in you was rising, but you stopped yourself from screaming at him. You were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you panic. You quietly stood up and packed your things and went to the door, but stopped when you heard him speak again. “Y/N, break up with your fiance. It will be much easier for you and it will also be better for him if you break his heart now then I break his neck later.”

Cold fear spiraled through you, as you heard him threaten your love Andy. You harshly turned around and started shouting at him. “Don’t you dare ... don’t you fucking dare to threaten my love or my family. James Buchanan Barnes I am glad you are rotting in this prison and one day you will die like any other disgusting low life.”

Hearing you scream the guards enter the room and it made you feel a bit better. You told them to take him back to his cell. Officer Peterson was talking to you, trying to calm you down. All of sudden one of the officers was lying on the floor with a bloody nose. The other one took his truncheon, but before he could land a hit Bucky grabbed him and banged his head on the table again and again, till his face was covered in blood.

Officer Peterson was as shocked as you were and he tried his best to protect you from him as he could. Bucky smiled sickly at you when Peterson got in between and tried to overpower Bucky, but you just heard a ugly cracking sound.

You stood, frozen with fear as his tall figure moved closer towards you. You tried to run past him but he was fast and graped your neck and pinned you to the wall.

No sound escaped your mouth, as he moved his face closer to your neck. You tried to scream as you felt his wet tongue on your neck, but Bucky covered your mouth with his hand. “No doll, not yet. I want to hear you scream, when I will push my cock into your small cunt. You taste so sweet and I bet your pussy tastes sweeter. Fuck I can’t wait to have you. See how perfectly you fit against me.”

Bucky pressed his hard on in your stomach, tears rolled down your eyes. You tried to shove him away, but the bastard only chuckled and licked your tears away. “Hmm, tasty.”

A half dozen officers ran into the room and pulled Bucky off you. One of them hit him on the back of the knees and the other one took him in a headlock, but Bucky just grinned like it was the most amusing thing in the world.

“I will see you soon doll.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After all the disaster you were not in the right mind space, you didn’t even remember entering the directors office or him talking to you. Only after Andy arrived and crunched down to your level and held your face in his hands did you come out of the shock.

You broke into tears and hugged him tightly. Andy whispered sweet and encouraging things to you. About 10 minutes later you both were leaving the prison building and led you to his car. All the while you didn’t say a word to him and he didn’t push you to talk.

You closed your eyes as soon as he started the car and in less than 5 minutes you were lulled in a dreamless sleep.

After 3 months you were back to normal like you used to be. Andy was a sweetheart, always taking care of you and supporting your decisions. You continued your assignment in the prison but you stayed in the right wing only with another psychologist in the room.

It was a beautiful day, Andy and you had finally decided a wedding date and the venue was booked. You were out with your friends, helping you with other wedding related matters. Andy was free today and he was all happy to stay home and cook dinner for you.

Surprisingly he was a fabulous cook and you were really excited for tonight, because you had some dresses in mind. You said your goodbyes to your best friends and entered your car and drove back to your apartment.

Shortly after you arrived at home and even before you opened the door you smelled the heavenly delicious Italian garlic bread. You entered your home, it was dark inside and only the fairy lights gave you the directions to the living room. A table was set with a red wine bottle and the food. You saw Andy’s silhouette and smiled at him.

The beautiful moment was disturbed by your mobile. “Andy, give me two minutes. I will make it quick.” You turned around and left the room and picked up. “Dr. L/N there is bad news ... the prisoner James Barnes escaped from prison with the help of his team. Please stay safe ...” The mobile slipped from your fingers and you ran back in the room. You hastily turned the light on, but when you looked at Andy, you screamed out.

You ran up to him, softly touching his bloody face. His hands were bound on his back and a dishcloth was stuffed in his mouth. You reached to pull it out, but suddenly you were yanked away from him.

Bucky caged you in his arms, his chest rubbed against your back and his face was between your shoulder and neck. He took a deep breath and spoke huskily in your ear. “I missed you doll. 3 fucking months ... Do you know how pissed I was when you visited, but never came to meet me. But don’t worry we will catch up soon.”

“Andy!” You called out his name, he looked up at you. His blood dripped down his chin. Bucky saw this and chuckled lightly and nibbled the soft flesh on your neck. One of his hands slipped under your blouse and grabbed your boob.

Seeing this Andy screamed but his voice was muffled by the cloth. You shrieked in pain when Bucky bit your shoulder blade. Andy screamed again and tried to pull himself from the chair, but his beaten up body was not helping much.

Bucky grabbed your hair harshly and pushed you forward to Andy. He yanked the cloth out of his mouth and spoke to him very softly. “Andy, between us men, how is she in the bed? I bet she is a wild pussy cat. Look at her how sweet and innocent she looks.”

He pushed her face near Andy’s. “Barnes, let her go! Please, just let her go. Don’t hurt her.”

Bucky tugged you back and pinning your body against his. “Hurt? I am not going to hurt her. I am going to fuck her. You have no idea how much I wanted to do that the first time he came to the prison.” Without any warning his lips were on you. You punched his chest, but he did not stop.

“Barnes, let her go. You fucking bastard. I will kill you, just leave her alone. Fuck, I will kill you. Fuck...” One moment he was forcing his tongue in your mouth and the next moment you were on the floor. Before you realized what happened, you heard an ugly stabbing sound. You turned your face back and saw a kitchen knife in Bucky's hand.

Everything stilled around you as you saw the blood running down the knife's edge. Bucky stabbed Andy a second time in his stomach, as you crawled towards him. “ No, no,no. Please, no! Andy, baby no. Please don’t leave me. Andy ...”

But Bucky picked you up and threw you on his shoulder and walked to Andy and your bedroom. You tried to grab Andy’s shoulder, but could reach him.

You were tossed on the bed and somehow it knocked the air out of your lungs. Bucky pinned you down on the bed, but you lashed out. You hit, punched and scratched his face, shoulders and arms, but nothing moved him away from you.

You screamed and cried. “No, please let me go. Don’t do this. Andy, HELP! ANDYY!”

A sudden slap shocked her to silence, the force turned her face to side and her cheek had a stinging sensation. Bucky was not done yet, he grabbed her neck and whispered harshly in her ear. “If you again say his name, I will make sure the police will not find his body in one piece. My people will scatter every part of his in different city districts. From now on you will only say my name.”

He kept his grip on her neck. “I thought I would take my time with you today, but now you have pissed me, doll. Last chance, calm down and enjoy or ...” He grabbed your face aggressively and invaded your mouth, but as you didn’t kiss him back, he growled into your mouth. “Fuck, doll! Kiss me back.” You cried harder, your tears soaked your cheeks. Bucky grabbed your hair, his lips were back on yours. You whimpered as his tongue was back in your mouth. He tugged your hair again, till you didn’t move your tongue against his.

Meanwhile Bucky pushed your leggings down, his free hand slipped between your legs and cupped your pussy though your panties. In panic you bit into his lip, making him bleed. Bucky pulled back and touched his bottom lip with his fingers and smirked. “Doll, why didn’t you tell me, you like it rough?As you wish, Y/N.”

He ripped the blouse open and then he took his pocket knife out and slid it between your boobs and cut your bra. The cold air made her nipples tight and hard and he saw that. Bucky pushed the teared fabric to the side and took your nipple between his lips and bit down on her nipple.

You yelped and started begging him. “Please ... no, let me go.” Then you felt his strength as he just ripped your panties from bothside. He let you go for a moment and you took the chance and crawled away from him, but he gripped your leggings and pulled it down. Before you got off the bed, Bucky yanked you back by your ankle. “NO ... no don’t do this.”

He lifted your leg and pinned it on the bed. His body weight on your back made it impossible for you to move. His finger slid between your pussy lips and rubbed your clit.

You winced as he entered you with his finger, as you were still dry.

“BUCKY!” You yelled when you felt his dick between your thighs. Bucky pushed his cock against your pussy. “Sssshhh ... relax, it won’t hurt much.”

“Please.” You choked, as he entered you completely in one push. “Fuck, you are so tight.” you gripped the sheets tightly, when he pulled all the way out and pushed back in. You cried out, when he slammed in your pussy again and again. He groaned into your ear. “ Doll you are made for my cock. I can feel you getting wet.” One hand was holding your leg apart and the other one moved down to your clit and circled your clit.

He was right, you were getting wet and coating his cock. It shocked you, how your body was reacting to the abuse and rape. You whimpered and shook your head. “ Soon you will learn to like it and then there will be a time where you will beg me to fuck you.”

“Never!” You spat and tried to push him off your back, but he just fucked harder. You yelped again when he bit your shoulder and sucked the skin, leaving marks all over you.

Suddenly Bucky pulled out, but before you could react he turned you around and got between your legs. He slid back into you, you felt him so deep that his dick was almost touching your womb.

One of your nipples was in his mouth, his tongue rolled around the hard bud, his right hand was pinching the other bud. His other hand was holding your leg around his hip, as he pushed his cock harder into you.

Bucky released your nippled with a pop and kissed your jaw, like you were lovers. “I love fucking you, doll. I could fuck you all day.” A kiss silenced your protest. He slammed harder and you could help but arch your back. “I knew, you will like it. Your little pussy is gripping so tightly. You are about to cum in my cock.”

He spread both of her legs wide and held them open, as he moved deep in her. “I want to see you cum, fuck you are creaming me so well.” You cried harder, because you felt your body let go. “ Stop ... please don’t make me. Bucky ... don’t.” He continued fucking you while he was rubbing his thumb on your clit.”

“Doll, cum on my cock, I know you want to. Your pussy loves my dick.” He rubbed your clit harder, his thighs slapped against yours. “Noooo!” Your legs trembled as the organsam grew and washed over your body. Giving into his assault you came hard on his cock.

“ Good girl, now it’s time for you to take my cum. Fuck, you got tighter.”

“No, don't cum inside me, I will get pregnant, please don’t!” He pulled you up and held you tightly against his body, his lips pushed against your and his tongue was in your mouth. You groaned as he went faster in a new position into your over stimulated pussy.

Your legs shook, because the over stimulation made you cum again and with that he spilled his cum inside you. “You are mine Dr. Y/N L/N.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You heard him say, before your eyes closed and you welcomed the darkness with open arms.

A few hours later Bucky was sitting in his private jet and with you sleeping in his lap and in one hand a whisky glass. You would sleep for at least the next 12 hours. The drug he gave you after you blacked out was a bit strong, but would make sure you didn’t wake up during the entire flight.

A couple hundreds miles away a man was dead on the operation table only to be revived back to life in a few minutes.

Assistant district attorney Andrew “Andy” Barber opened his eyes after 32 hours, only knowing one thing. He will get you back safe and he will kill James Buchanan Barnes.

“Y/N I will find you. Promise.”

The End

If you like it, leave comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

#dark!bucky x you #dark bucky barnes #dark fic #mafia bucky x reader #andy barber #non con #criminal au

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solitude4chiron · 10 months

Text

Carry me home..

Miles-42 x Black Reader

About: You and miles smoke together while braiding his hair

A/N: I think this will be a one shot tbh, I’m honestly writing anything rn so apologies if this ain’t my best 😪😪

“Im home ma” Miles yelled from inside of the living room, bringing in flowers like how he did every other day knowing there was no space for them.

You had took his hair out yesterday night and promised to braid his hair today. His coils framed his sharp face drooping over his forehead. Before you could even get up from your bed and put your joint down, he was in the smoke filled doorway.

“Damnn smoking without me? Estoy lastimado princesa” (I’m hurt princess) He laughed placing the flowers on your desk before changing his clothes.

“Didn’t think you’d be home so early sorry baby” you smiled before kissing his brown lips.

After he changed his clothes and got settled on the bed, you bounced up from your spot on his chest and ran to the bathroom. When you came back there were 2 combs and edge control in your hand.

Your mom had taught you how to braid since you were 5. You braided your baby dolls hair while she did yours. It was a love language to gift someone beauty through their hair. So you carried it over to your boyfriend who let you play in his hair whenever.

“You ready?”

“Always” he said scooting back into your open legs resting his head between them. “Tryna spark up? Again..” He said sarcastically trying to get a laugh out of you.

“Sure miles”

After every few minutes he would lean his head back and pass you the joint. Watching you take hits was his favorite thing ever, the way your lips opened to ghost and exhale. The way your eyes lowered and merged into your lashes. He loved it. Your window was open and orange streetlights poured through, illuminating the already candlelit room. Plus tonight your boyfriend didn’t come home at 3 am, so it was automatically a good night.

“I’m gonna try something new today ok? It’s gonna look amazing I promise”

“confío en ti” (I trust you)

After a few braids you threw yourself back onto the bed needing a quick break, miles stood from his spot and laid next to you. Kissing your forehead repeatedly to show his appreciation.

“Tired? That za got you sleepy huh” he laughed tracing your nose with his fingers.

“I thought you said you could take it? This what you wanted right?”

“What are we talking about right now..” You responded making a dirty joke, miles rolled his eyes sarcastically knowing he didn’t mind.

“boy sit back down”

“Yes ma’am”

About half an hour your later hands started resting lighter and lighter on his head. Getting more tired with every braid you finished. Luckily you were on the last braid for the night.

“I’m done babe” you said through barely open lips

“Well your coming with me to see them” miles said picking you up from the bottom of your thighs and draping your head over his shoulder.

When you got to the bathroom you both looked into the mirror with red eyes. He admired the designs in the side of his head in awe.

“How did you do this y/n what the fuck?!”

“You like it?”

“I love it hermosa, let’s get you in bed though.”

When you and miles were in bed his favorite thing to do was press himself into you. You didn’t mind if it kept you two warm through the night. Before drifting into sleep you felt something poke your butt making you flip your body over, locking eyes with your boyfriend.

“Your nasty as hell miles” you laughed

“My bad, you looked good tonight”

“Stay on that side of the bed please…” you said sarcastically pushing him away and rolling your eyes.

& that’s all thanks 4 reading 🫶🏾 + that vamp hobie fic is done I’m just hesitant on dropping it so gimme a minute 😭

#miles 42 x reader #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #miles morales x reader #miles morales #black reader #earth 42 #across the spiderverse #Spotify

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petrova121 · 9 months

Text

42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 |

Based off the song “are we still friends?”

There will be multiple parts to this

Summary :Miles and you had been best friends for as long as you two can remember but things take a turn. All of a sudden you two aren’t even speaking to each other, and you could never get an answer why but when you did it's not what you thought it would be

Friends to strangers to enemies to lovers

Warnings : Drugs are Mentioned/Used,fights, slight makeout, some mature topics will be present

enjoy:))

It had always been sort of weird between me and miles. He was my best friend, or well that was the case when we were younger. Miles would always be there for me and walk me home after school but after we turned 12, His dad had died and it took a toll on him hard.After that he just stopped talking to me. He would ignore me whenever I tried to speak to him.

“Miles?” I said over the phone hoping he would pick up. I was worried about miles, his dad meant alot to him and I really couldn’t imagine what he was going through. Miles didn’t pick up and He wasn’t answering my texts. “God” I sighed under my breath and decided to let it go until I saw him at school

I wish he had talked to me or explained why he had to just cut me off like that.

“Miles!” I exclaimed when I saw him in the hallways which had seemed like forever to me but I hadn't gotten any response. “Miles, hey? Are you good?” I asked him weirded out by his behavior. Yet again not any response but he did look at me this time. He had a stone cold face and looked at me blankly. I stared back at him after he shoved past me without a word or explanation. My heart sank to my stomach, my eyes grew tearer I guess the sudden realization that miles was or already cut me out of his life hurt. I thought we were best friends…

(time skip 3 years)

“Y/N!” I heard my uncle yell and I quickly jumped out of bed half awake and rushed to the kitchen. “I'm up! What's wrong?” I said quickly trying to not fall back asleep while sitting down at the kitchen table. “What's wrong?” he said, letting out a chuckle at the end.

“Is this a prank?” I was clearly annoyed.

“You do realize you slept in and missed your first three hours of school?” He said amused and finished making his coffee. My face dropped.

“OH MY GOD” I yelled and rushed back to my room to put on my clothes and at least brush my damn teeth. I grabbed my backpack and as soon as I was going to rush out my uncle stopped me. “What?” I asked him, confused. “Look, I don't want to ruffle any feathers, okay? But Morales stopped here the other day dropping some of your stuff off”My uncle said but his voice became faint. I stopped and looked at him weird. “Why would miles after two years come to drop off my things?” I thought, but that pit in my stomach that I thought disappeared had come back and it didn’t seem to want to go away.

“Oh okay? I'll look into that stuff after I come home. I got school '' I said trying to get out of his grip and away from this situation. “Alright I won't hold you back any longer” He said and let me go.

I had run, like really ran to get to my fourth hour on time and thankfully did. I sat down in my new seat, apparently there was a new teacher and she gave us new places to sit. I turned to see who I was sitting next to and it was miles. I gave a short glance and looked straight ahead trying to ignore the fact he was even there. That pit in my stomach never really left

“Now I'll give you guys a bit of time to talk to your partner if you dont know them already. This would be a great time to introduce yourself to one another,” the teacher said and then turned away from the class to finish whatever the hell she was doing on her computer.

As the rest of the class started chattering away and talking. Me and Miles stayed quiet; there wasn't really much to say. We were strangers now and the only difference is that we had some memories together.

“So how’s it been, Mà?”Miles had finally spoken, for the first time in two years. I almost couldn’t believe it. The words fell off his tongue so smoothly, it almost felt scary.

“It's been fine Miles” I said and I could feel a lump in my throat forming. “And you?” I managed to spit out. I could feel his eyes staring at me but I really didn’t want to look.

“Things… could be better, I haven't seen you in a while” Miles said his full attention was on me now which should have been weird or uncomfortable but it had felt right like it did when we still talked.

“Yeah… i could for sure say the same about you” i said dryly, slowly turning my gaze to him.

“Did you get the things I dropped off?” He asked leaning back on his chair but his gaze was still on me. “Oh yeah,.....Rick told me I haven't seen them yet,” I said. My full gaze was on Miles and much did change about him. He definitely had hit puberty, his face was more defined and he had changed up his style; which i wouldn’t say was bad it was just different.

“Mhm” Miles hummed as he stared back at me, it had been so long.

After class was over I packed up my stuff and left quickly. I just needed to get away. I felt like I was going to throw up, I don't know why I just couldn’t handle seeing miles. I rush to the girls bathroom to find it crowded with so many girls hitting weed and other drugs. “Well isn’t that great” I thought clearly annoyed. I look around through the fog and other bodies in there and find a corner and lean on the wall trying to calm myself down and try to distract myself. “Have you heard about that criminal, you know prowler?” The girl in front of me said to her friend both clearly high off their shit. “Yeah, I heard there's like a man hunt for him”The second said and started giggling. I got curious and pulled out my phone searching anything at this point to get my mind off miles.when i typed in the “The Prowler” and it showed multiple different News sites claiming he stole from big branded medical companies, and a ton of money.

What was weird is there wasn’t a good picture of the guy, all there was a blurry picture of a guy that had a mask that covered his face that seemed to have purple sort of lighting and a sort of claw on his hand that was on one of his arms Whoever this was nobody seemed to catch him but then again the city is falling apart by the second and the city wasn’t doing anything. But something seemed a little too familiar to me. I couldn’t seem to place my tongue on it.

I was startled by everyone rushing out of the bathroom, it seemed the bell had rang and everyone was heading to class and I should be doing that too but then I saw Miles from a distance leaving the building through a door in the back. “It shouldn’t bother you where he's going to, stop being nosey” I heard the voice in my head say but ignored it. I stayed back and watched him leave and glanced around, waited a minute or so and followed after him. He seemed to be walking pretty fast. He was already hitting a corner and he was out of my view. I started jogging to catch up but not make myself known. After hitting the corner he did, he wasn’t nowhere to be found i looked around but then a strange guy came up to me

“Hey, you from around here?” The guy asked me and I knew he was a creep. He looked old in his late 30s. Ignored him, walked away and kept trying to find miles but he kept following me. “Hey wait up!” the creepy guy shouted after me. I needed to lose this guy, whoever he was. I took a few turns but it led to me getting stuck in an alleyway. “Shit” I mumbled under my breath looking at the abandoned alley way you could see rats and it smelled horrible.

“I got you” I heard the guy say and I slowly turned around to see him standing tall with a smile that made this whole situation feel even more horrific.he started approaching me until before neither one of us could comprehend the situation, a guy came out of nowhere and kicked the guy to the ground. “What the hell!?”the guy said, he was now on the ground groaning in pain. I looked at the unknown man who kicked him and it was the prowler.

Then the prowler took another hit to the guy's stomach and he started coughing up blood. His face was in pain, you could hear him beg and beg for the prowler to stop but he didn’t. The blood was coming out of his mouth as if he was some sort of vampire.

I froze in my spot watching in horror as the whole thing went down. The Prowler had then picked up the guy from the ground and I could have sworn he was on the verge of death. There were tears running down his face and blood coming out of his mouth, slowly dripping down and consuming the lower part of his face. He got picked up by the guy by his throat and if I could imagine what the Prowler's face looked under that mask I could only imagine him to have some sort of cold smile or frown.

“Please” the guy barely managed to choke out holding on to the Prowler's arm that was choking him. But his pleads were unsuccessful, it only caused the Prowler to tighten his grip.

“Give me one good reason to let you go..”The Prowler said his voice was deep and sent shivers down my spine. The man couldn’t give any response, if anything he was so close to passing out.

After what seemed to be almost an entirety, he let the man go and he started gasping for air and somehow managed to crawl away but the Prowler stopped him. “Not yet” He said, stepping on his leg hard. “If i see you preying on little girls, you won’t be making it out alive” The Prowler said and then let him go. The man crawled away weakly and you could see him leaving behind a trail of blood. Then he turned to me, I stood there wide eyed looking at the Prowler. “Don’t kill me please” I said but it was barely audible for anyone to hear.

“You need to be more careful” He said and his voice sent a cold chill all over and he walked closer. “I will” I said louder and fixed my posture to look more put together. “Why are you even out here?”he asked and his voice went even lower which i didn’t think was possible.

I stood there looking at him, not as if I could see his face behind the mask. I started thinking why was I out here? “Looking for…….” I stopped mid sentence. What was I going to say? To look for a guy who cut me out of his life a long time ago but i just couldn’t seem to expect it. “A friend” I said and felt my mouth go dry. He stood there looking at me or at least I thought he was. “Stay in school and stop looking for trouble” the Prowler said and walked past me quickly disappearing.

I stood there looking so stupid and looked behind in some hope he was there but he wasn't. I decided to just go back home. This day was too much for me to handle. When I got home my uncle was at work and I had the apartment to myself. After an hour or so I kept thinking about what I saw . I just couldn’t get the scene out of my head.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Soon day turned into night and my uncle still wasn’t home which wasn’t too unusual for him. I stayed up on my phone all night looking up more stuff about the Prowler, and “speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

After I started to want to fall asleep I heard knocking on my window, hard knocking. I turned to see The Prowler himself. He seemed hurt and there was a cut, a big cut to his side. “Move” he said after I opened the window and he came falling down but got up. “What the hell?” I was so confused by what was happening.

“I got hurt badly really bad” he said but it wasn’t the same voice as last time it was a voice recognized. I started thinking and looking at the Prowler and I realized after looking at his jacket. It was the one i had gotten him on his birthday but it was too big on him at the time of his 11th birthday. “Miles?” I was shocked, and then the mask slowly started undoing itself to reveal miles and he looked to have cuts and bruises forming. “It's me but please i know i don't deserve you helping me i know but..” He said out of breath.

I didn’t know what to do or think but I did know that I had to help him. “Okay okay” I said quickly helping him over to my bed and rushed to my bathroom. I looked through all my draws and finally found the first aid kit and went back into my room.

“Miles I need you to lift up your shirt” I said quietly and he did just that. It was a pretty big wound that started at his lower torso and when up his chest. I slowly started to clean it with alcohol wipes disinfecting the area and then slowly banged it up.

“Dios por qué” Miles mumble as I wrapped his wound up. “It’s going to take a while to heal so..uh take it easy for a while” I said while keeping a steady hand while wrapping the bandage. “Yeah I’ll try” he said and then after finished up he got up and put his shirt back on. “Thanks Mà” he said turning to me.

“Your welcome miles” I said quietly looking around and before he was going to leave I needed answers. “Miles wait” I said grabbing up all the courage I had to continue this conversation. “Miles I want answers, you can’t just walk in my life after you left, and let’s back up a second YOUR THE PROWLER?” I said with all sorts of emotions running through;sad annoyed, mad, confused.

“Your right” he sighed and turned around looking at me. “But you need to trust me when I tell you, you don’t need answers not now at least” he said, his eyes narrowed down at me. “I don’t care” I said more annoyed. “You do realize that I can easily turn you in to the police right?” I said trying to threaten him. I stepped closer and so did he. “You’re not going to tell anybody. Because if you want what happened to that guy out there to happen to you go ahead but I can promise that you don’t” miles said his voice actually dropping down to what it sounded like back in the alley way. And just like that he was out and I was left without answers..

#42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #miles morales #across the spiderverse #spiderman #fanfic #miles molares #enemies to lovers

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daydreaming-en-pointe · 4 months

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A very Spidey Christmas - Hobie

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader (1610!Miles, Gwen, 42!Miles, Margo, and Pavitr are here too)

Word count: 992

Warnings: One cuss word, usage of nicknames (peng, dove, my love) Hobie calls Miles ‘Peter Pan’ (not a warning per se but I just thought ppl might now understand it bc it might be a lil obscure or smth idk) slightly ooc Gwen, mild ghostflower/gwiles and some (subtle) prowlerbyte stuff <3

A/N: Can you tell I put the most effort into this 💔

VEE I USED YOUR GUIDE 😁 very helpful 10/10 would recommend so everyone go give it a read!

The sun was slowly sinking on the horizon, lighting up the frozen patterns inside the icicles hanging on the branches of trees as you finished determinedly constructing your snowman. Or rather, snow-building.

You had been hard at work for almost an hour now, and with the first traces of the evening starting to graze the darkening sky you stepped back to admire your handiwork, then decided to go over to everyone one by one to see their creations.

You had made an elaborately-designed snow-igloo, complete with miniature city built from snow surrounding it. You had painstakingly replicated the Brooklyn Bridge, the Statue of Liberty, and the Empire State Building out of small sticks and carefully-placed blankets of snow.

Your pride and joy of your entire display, however, was the diverse cast of tiny snow-people that sat on the ceiling dome of the igloo in various candid poses.

Snow-Hobie was distinguished by giant boots and a leather vest, the spikes on his mask and shoulders - made from twigs that were meticulously selected - sticking out at random angles as he played his little guitar for his audience. Which was, of course, namely the snow version of you - sitting cross-legged in front of him, every bit as supportive of him as you were in real life.

Ballet slippers and a hood set Gwen apart from the others as she danced en-pointe on the edge of the igloo, the perfect muse for an artist’s sketches. You had managed to replicate Miles’ hairstyle to a tee on his snow doppelgänger as he sat with his sketchbook in front of him, drawing Gwen as she posed for him.

Snow-Pavitr hung off one of the lower levels of the igloo’s walls, a thin web connecting him to the ceiling as his hair - and the fabric of his dhoti pants - all flopped to one side. Snow-Margo with her Afro puffs and the tiny version of the other Miles with his Prowler suit and braids were engaged in a conversation on the other side of the igloo dome, random parts of machinery scattered around them as they compared notes on everything they knew about technology and tinkering.

You wandered over to where Miles was working away at his snow sculpture, looking over his shoulder at the sharp edges and added flair of various leaves, stems and flowers which made his unique art style all the more recognizable even off the paper.

“What’re you making, Miles?”

“Oh, hi, Y/N! I’m actually trying to build Gwen… I’m not sure if it’s coming out well though.” He sat back and rubbed the back of his neck as he critically examined his creation. You took in the petals forming her hood, the leaves wrapped over each other to form her chucks, and the stems woven together to imitate a web shooting out from her wrist. “Well, I think it’s really cool.”

“Wait, really? Miles, that’s so sweet! I’m trying to make you too!” Gwen, who was sitting only a few feet away, gave him a warm smile and Miles just about lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. You chuckled under your breath at his reaction.

“I made a dog!” Pavitr piped up, proudly gesturing to his snow-dog. “His name’s Gulab Jamun!”

He was unfortunately sitting right in one of the sun’s last dying rays, so the dog’s face looked a little bit like a melted candle, but everything else had turned out pretty well.

“Pavi, I think now might not be the best time,” Margo murmured with a soft laugh, crouching to look at his sculpture. “It’s a good dog though.”

“They’re so in love it makes me sick,” Miles remarked, standing and looking at Gwen and Miles skeptically with his arms crossed. Margo lifted her head to glare up at him and he raised his palms in mock surrender. Though the small, fond smile that tugged at his lips as he looked at the purple spidergirl didn’t quite escape your watchful gaze.

“Don’t worry about ‘im, Peter Pan! ‘E’s just taking the mick,” Hobie called out reassuringly to Miles, who was now frowning slightly at the version of himself from another universe. “Lay off him, bruv! Man’s trying his best, innit?”

You joined Hobie a few metres away from everyone, where he appeared to be taking a break. “‘Ey, dove!” He called, his eyes lighting up with a grin when he saw you. You went to sit next to him and he wrapped a long arm around you. “‘Ow’s it goin’?”

“It’s good! I just about finished.” You turned to angle your gaze down at his… sculpture? Was that the right word for it? Maybe the term abstract art piece fit better? “Hobie, love, what’s yours supposed to be?”

“Oh, it’s a me’aphor for capi’alism.”

“Did it… fall apart?” You asked carefully, not wanting to come off as rude but also trying your best to understand what was in front of you.

“What d’you mean, peng ting? I actually patterned up and made it as thought-provokin’ as I could,” He sounded so genuinely puzzled by your questions that you decided to stop beating around the bush.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Hobie, that’s a pile of snow throwing up a middle finger.” You leaned forward slightly to see his masterpiece - a deliberately messy pile of snow flipping the world off, complete with a Norman Osborne figurine drowning in the snow in the centre, it’s eyes scratched out in Sharpie with bold X’s. “And is that… an Osborne action figure? Is this supposed to be something about him drowning in money he doesn’t deserve or even need? And the snow is supposed to symbolize the money saying, ‘fuck the world’?”

“See, now ya got it!” Hobie said proudly, not at all offended by your confusion and slight skepticism. “Now let’s go inside, shall we? My fingers are startin’ to freeze.”

“Your fingers are always freezing. Honestly, you’re somehow always so cold it’s a wonder that you’re not perpetually an ice cube.”

“All I’m ‘earin’ is that you think ‘m cool.”

@vhstown @l0starl @tatumis-a @deritosmi @hobiebrownismygod @therealloopylupin2099

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lucillele · 1 year

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𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞

Shuri x Black!fem!reader

Inspired by Love Language by SZA

warning: sappy stuff, angsty in the beginning

A/N: thank you @szalipcombo for giving me something to write and another song in my 61 hour playlist 🤧🤧 also ahh 42 followers 😆😆 i like this one but at the time I feel sort insecure about idk

Having lonely days and nights had unfortunately become an average day for you with Shuri not sticking around long in the mornings, if she even made it to bed that night, and maybe coming home to sleep for a few hours. You couldn’t blame her with all the events that had happened between Namor’s attack and her becoming the black panther but ever since you hadn’t been getting as much attention.

It got to the point where you would lay on her side when she wasn’t there or wear her clothes just to feel closer to her. She still told you how she loved you and how grateful she was for you in the moments that she was able to be with you. However, she had been quiet and closed off lately which again you couldn’t blame her for but you were starting to get desperate. Sometimes you went into the lab just to watch her in her element and left before she caught you knowing she probably knew you were there anyway with her now enhanced senses.

It was one of the rare nights that Shuri came home early enough to catch you awake. She had to come home because of how exhausted she was and basically collapsed into bed the moment she came in. She woke up a few hours later, around 3 am, surprised to see you awake. “Y/N?” She said, rubbing her eyes while turning to face you who was reading a book. You hummed in response instantly putting all of your focus on Shuri. “What are you doing up?” She said, sitting up a bit. “I just wanted to finish this book.” You said, doing your best to conceal the fact that you were lying. She already had a lot to deal with and you didn’t want to add more on top of it.

She gave you a stern look knowing you were lying and took the book out of your hands and set it on the bedside table. She turned to you, expecting an answer. “I know you love me and I’m not trying to make it seem like you don’t..but I want you to show me. I mean, I barely see you anymore. I come to the lab and sometimes I just watch you. I just…I want you to be around.” You said, biting your lip and avoiding her eyes in slight embarrassment for your glorified way of saying ‘I want attention’ and slightly stalkerish confession. There was a small moment of silence as Shuri thought for a bit. “You know that you can tell me anything right? And even if you don’t want to, I’m still here.” You said, grabbing her hand and giving it a slight squeeze making Shuri instantly pull you on top of her into a hug. She had been feeling her guilt build up every day not just over not spending time with you but with the death of her family and the attack on Wakanda. Still, she refused to talk about it or think about it and focus on the work that needed to be done and shut you out but oh how she wanted to hold you and for you to hold her and to tell you everything. She was hoping one day she would have the courage to come clean with you but you beat her to it.

You stayed like this for a good minute with Shuri rubbing circles on your back until she responded to your earlier confession. “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, I do love you. More than you know.. I just have a lot to do and a lot to…heal from.” She said, now rubbing up and down your back while you completely relaxed in her arms. “I know but don’t feel like you have to rush for me.” You said, tilting your head to look up at her. “It’s no excuse. I want to be honest with you like you are with me. I promise I’ll do better.” She said, giving you a forehead kiss.

“You know what you could do?” You said, looking up at her. “What?” She said, thinking you were being serious. “I think you should get more than 5 hours of sleep.” You said with a bright smile that lightened up the mood, making her look away from you because she knew you were right. “I don’t think that will be possible.” She said, looking at the time. “Just sleep in, besides you have to make it up to me and we need to catch up.” You said, rolling off of her and cuddling into her side. Her face dropped to look at you with a deadpan look. “What does that mean?” Shuri asked sitting up more but you dragged her back down closer to you. “Don’t worry about it, baby.” You said, turning around before looking back which was your infamous sign to let her know that you wanted her to be the big spoon.

“You’re not making me feel better about it.” She said, chuckling. “Never said I would.” You said. You assumed she finally settled down to go to sleep as her arms moved around your waist only to be surprised when you felt her fingers tickle your sides. As you laughed your heart out, Shuri couldn’t help cheesing at hearing your laugh and seeing you smile so much. It didn’t take long for you to fold and apologize, making Shuri happily oblige. “Goodnight, my love.” She said giving you a cheek kiss and pulling the cover on the top of the two of you “Goodnight.” You mumbled, satisfied with how everything went.

#shuri udaku x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri x y/n #shuri x you #mcu fanfiction #shuri fanfiction #shuri fluff #shuri x reader #marvel fic #shuri fic

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rosinbae · 10 months

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shattered ⋆ kim taerae

◜✧◞ SYNOPSIS ─ where unfortunately for kim taerae, the truth hurts, and pierces his heart right where it shouldn't.

◜✧◞ PAIRING ─ kim taerae x male!reader

◜✧◞ GENRE ─ literally just angst.

◜✧◞ WARNINGS ─ mentions of overworking and passing out.

taerae knows this is a bad sign.

y/n only practices until three in the morning if he genuinely feels sick to his stomach, if he genuinely feels that he isn't doing good enough and has to work extra hard so that he doesn't disappoint anyone watching his performance.

unfortunately, this isn't a newly developed habit, y/n has been doing this ever since he first joined wakeone as a trainee. if he got an especially bad scolding from the dance instructor, he'd practice himself to death to try and prove them wrong.

he'd do anything just to make sure he wasn't lacking in any of his skills, anything about his performance that made someone else upset was immediately something he had to fix.

even it meant practicing so hard he would just collapse onto the floor of the practice room.

taerae remembers feeling afraid.

he remembers listening to hanbin console a concerned junghyun as he desperately covered his ears, trying to cover out any mention of y/n and his horrible state, too afraid to think about if he would even wake up the next day.

y/n is fragile, he takes many things to heart, though he doesn't cry as often as he used to, he constantly tries to prove others wrong by doing his best. of course he always does do his best but then there's something else to be nitpicked and then he has to fix that too.

he can just never win.

like at the moment.

taerae is usually a heavy sleeper, he doesn't wake up easily no matter what, but as he stares at the clock beside his bed, the one which reads 3:42 am, he feels a pit form in his stomach as he notices y/n's empty bed beside him.

he flinches upon hearing the door open, but relaxes as soon as he sees the familiar figure of y/n. his relaxation doesn't last long, though, because he sees how worn out y/n looks, and it's enough to make him frown.

"hi".

"hi" taerae smiles. even though he expects that to be the end of that, but y/n stares at him for a moment, which gets taerae worried.

"can i sit with you?"

"shouldn't you go to sleep?" taerae mutters, he feels that's the right thing to say because they have to wake up early tomorrow. tomorrow being the day which determines what the next 2 and a half years of their lives may look like.

y/n doesn't listen, and taerae doesn't bother. he's tired, exhausted, frustrated from having to perform the same song for five hours, worried that he may not debut, and may not debut with one of his friends in fact. when taerae makes space for him, he sits by him and simply blinks.

"taerae" he starts, and taerae simply stares back at him. he always liked it when y/n said his name, because it was like he pronounced each letter with surprising precision, as if they were all equally important to pronounce. "i don't have a good feeling".

"does that have to do with your or practicing all day again?" he asks rather loudly, making him cover his mouth. that is what gets a small laugh out of y/n, and that makes taerae feel glad, because it's been a while since he's laughed.

"i'm not gonna make it, taerae" he says, a sad smile coming to his face as he says those words. "it's not meant for me".

taerae furrows his eyebrows. "y/n—"

"i know that this is all i've been working for and giving up is horrible but at this point, there is nothing that'll make me debut".

"what makes you think that?" taerae wants him to be wrong, he wants to try and convince y/n that he deserves that spot, because he does. he worked his ass off every day, always did better each time if he got the smallest scolding, took care of his fellow wakeone trainees, even if he wasn't taking care of himself.

there is nothing that can convince taerae that he doesn't deserve to debut, he did so much, he tried so hard, giving up is never what he does.

but it seems he's too tired now.

"i constantly try, constantly try my best but then there's something wrong with my performance and i can never do anything correctly! i'm tired of trying taerae, first our debut was canceled and then we get thrown into a stupid survival show and it's like wakeone is doing everything to prevent me from debuting, i'm tired.."

his eyes well up with tears, and taerae doesn't remember the last time he's seen him like that. "i just want to debut, it's been two years and i've achieved nothing".

"but that's not true" taerae argues, and y/n takes in a deep breath, not wanting to sob in taerae's bed at three in the morning. "y/n, you can't give up yet, were so close.."

"no you're so close" y/n confirms, making taerae shut his eyes. "as much as i wanna debut, it's not gonna be possible. i wanted to debut with you, and hanbin, and jeonghyeon, woonggi, and sungmin but, fuck we can't, we just can't, there is really nothing left for me".

taerae wants to try so hard to tell him that he's wrong, to tell him that he's gonna make it, and he'll finally achieve his dreams of debuting, but it's not that y/n thinks he won't, he knows he won't debut.

he's tried so hard, time and time again, he'd put on a brave face as to not worry anybody, but he hates that all of efforts are looked over, and that he won't get a place in the debut lineup.

"taerae, i believe in you".

but why won't you believe in yourself? taerae desperately wants to say, he wants to give him hope, wants to tell him that everything's gonna be okay and that they're gonna laugh together tomorrow when they both end up debuting.

but it was the truth, y/n wasn't gonna make it, he can't climb over nine ranks in the span of the night. even if he's talented, even if he's worked so hard to the point that he's passed out, even with how many times he failed and continued to try, it didn't matter. not to the voters, not to the mnet editors, not to anyone.

taerae wants all of that be a lie. he wants to close his eyes and open them to see all of his wakeone friends laughing over stupid jokes, he just wants to be happy, wants y/n to be happy.

he just wants to live in a world where he can debut with all of his friends, where y/n will finally be recognized for his talents, where they can finally debut together like how y/n promised back in their first year as wakeone trainees.

y/n reaches for taerae's hand and simply places it on his cheek, wiping his own tears. "i wanted us to debut together, y/n" taerae mutters, and y/n gives a small hum.

"i'm so sorry" he mumbles, as if he's at fault for something. he wants to debut with taerae too, he promised him the first time they met that they would debut together somehow, even if the circumstances are weird.

taerae hates that this is the truth, he hates that this is the unfortunate way y/n has to tell him that he can't make it, even though taerae thinks he deserves it more than anyone. "you deserve to debut, you worked so hard".

"everybody did" he sighs. "there's just no more hope for me, taerae".

taerae stares at y/n, who simply rests against his palm. he then looks back to the clock beside his bed.

4:03 am.

#kim taerae #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 taerae #zb1 imagines #kim taerae x reader #kim taerae imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles

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angel-wings-and-tattoos · 1 year

Text

i'm having a really bad day so, unfortunately, if you're seeing this i'm dragging you down with me :)

---

(if you leave me, can i leave me too?)

Steve Harrington is announced dead on arrival at Hawkins' Memorial Hospital at 3:42 A.M. on July 5th, 1985.

Robin knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that he was dead before the ambulance even made it to the remains of the Starcourt parking lot. It was the same way that she just knew what Steve was thinking or could predict what he was about to say when they worked

(scoops. scoops ahoy, i work for scoops ahoy)

together.

Before Steve, she doesn't explicitly believe in soulmates and, if she did, she especially wouldn't have believed that hers would be a man.

Soulmates, twin flames, kindred spirits- no matter what you want to call it, Robin knows that Steve was her person.

Was.

Because the doctor told her that Steve was dead 18 minutes ago.

Robin had nodded her thanks at him despite not being able to even look in his direction. Her parents weren’t at the hospital yet- Robin had insisted

(-please! please don’t take him from me. let me go with him. i have to go with him. what if he wakes up and no one is there for him? he needs someone with him, please)

on riding in the ambulance with Steve, so they had opted to follow along in their car. They offered to grab her some clean clothes from their house on the way back and Robin hadn’t been able to respond with much past blinking at them a couple of times. She barely even registered her mom’s bear-hug, just brought her arms up on instinct until she let go. Her whole body felt numb, her legs were shaky, and she had the worst feeling

(i don’t know, Buckley, i have a bad feeling about this)

in her stomach.

When they reached the hospital, the doctors had told them it was family only. So, naturally, Robin lied and said she was Steve’s sister. It was what had gotten her into the ambulance in the first place, so the staff had pretty much taken her word for it. It was for this reason that the doctor led her down the corridor by herself. She was the only one in the room other than the doctor whose name she had forgotten

(is it still forgetting if it was never known in the first place? there’s probably a separate word for that. she would be hard pressed to tell you a single thing the doctor said past, my condolences, Miss Harrington, but unfortunately-)

and Steve.

Steve was laying on the hospital bed with a sheet covering him up to his neck. Probably for the best, Robin doesn’t think she can stomach seeing the condition the rest of his body is currently in. His eyes are closed, well, one eye is closed naturally- the other is practically swelled shut from the multiple beatings

(steve? steve, oh my god. are you- are you okay?)

he took over the course of the last 12 hours.

Beatings that he took so Robin didn’t have to.

So Dustin and Erica wouldn’t have to.

In books they always say that it looks like they’re just sleeping. Like they could open their eyes at any moment and smile when they noticed you standing next to them.

That’s not what this is like at all. Even through the haze of unshed tears, it’s obvious that Steve is eerily motionless; his chest isn’t lifting up and down, his eyes aren’t moving under his eyelids, there is a terrible stillness throughout his entire form. This isn’t Steve. This is nothing but a body laying in front of her- a hunk of meat that will never harbor life inside ever again.

Steve Harrington is dead. His eyes will stay shut. Robin could stand in this hospital room for the rest of her life and never see his smile again. She can almost picture it

(nurses decades from now gossiping about the girl who got frozen in time, life moving on for everyone else around the pair of teenagers. robin herself stuck in a fantasy, one where Steve made it out of that mall alive, the two of them sitting in a different hospital room together, laughing about something Dustin or Erica or Mike said about the questionable food in the vending machine outside. While in reality, Steve would remain still and motionless and decay while Robin herself would wither into nothingness on the spot. “died of a broken heart” would be the phrase repeated from one to the other to another until the details of the story are lost to time, no one remembering her or Steve’s names or whether they were siblings or friends or lovers)

now, in the back of her mind.

Robin takes a slow, hesitant step towards him and gently rests her hand on the general area where his arm should be. It’s possible she’s just imagining it, but she will swear later that he’s cold to the touch, even through the hospital sheet.

“I-“ It’s the first word Robin has said since the ambulance in the parking lot, “I am so sorry. Steve. I’m so sorry.”

Her voice is barely audible in the quiet room but the sound of it breaks her out of the trance she’s been in since the second she couldn’t find Steve’s pulse. Whatever was holding her tears back is gone in an instant, replaced with body-racking sobs. Stumbling back a step or two, Robin suddenly, desperately needs to get out of the room. There is a suffocating feeling threatening to take over her entire body if she doesn’t. Still crying, she slams the door to the room open, blindly heading in whatever direction will take her further away faster. She reaches the big door that leads to the main waiting room and stops. From here she can see the top of Dustin’s head through the door’s windows, his curly hair distinctive despite the distance between them.

Claudia Henderson has an arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders as a nurse prods his ribs with gloved hands. She watches as the usually expressive boy just allows the examination to happen, staring somewhat blankly ahead and he nods his head when prompted by the nurse. Taking a slow, deep breath, Robin manages to slow down her tears, not quite stopping them completely. Her hands shake violently as she reaches forward to push the door open. She barely even gets a step into the room before Dustin’s head swivels towards her. She can pinpoint the exact moment Dustin clocks the fact that not only is Steve not with her but she still hasn’t quite managed to stop crying yet. His mouth falls open as he stares through the door that she’s still holding open.

“Robin? Where’s Steve?” He knows

(he knows-

and she knows

and he knows that she knows he knows

but he asks anyway

because how can he not? Steve’s dead and Dustin and Robin and Erica aren’t but Robin is starting to wish she was, but that’s not quite right either because where does that leave Dustin and Erica? two children who didn’t deserve to be in this mess in the first place grieving two slightly older teenagers who also didn’t deserve to be in and die because of this mess)

already, she thinks, based on the tears that are already gathering in his eyes. Robin can’t do much more than helplessly shrug her shoulders. The tears are welling up again, even more than before somehow, to the point where she can barely tell who all is in the room with them. Blearily, she sees the outline of her mother appear on Dustin’s left. For the second time in as many hours, Robin allows herself to be hugged.

This time there is no silent shock. This time, Melissa Buckley has her daughter’s full weight in her arms, the teenager’s hands gripping the cardigan until they’re completely white. Robin is sobbing all over again, feeling like a child in her mom’s embrace despite having to slouch over to make up for the height difference.

“He’s gone, Mom. Steve’s gone.” Robin sobs into her shoulder, only vaguely noticing her father’s presence behind her. He’s holding the old bag she used to use for basketball practice in middle school, an awfully cheerful turquoise spotted with neon green polka dots. The handle is littered with aging friendship bracelets, the colors long since faded and the names of the girls who made them forgotten.

Later, she’ll find that her dad threw in a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, a pair of sandals, and a hoodie (Steve’s, that she stole but will never have the chance to give back). When she changes out of her scoops uniform in the hospital bathroom, she will be frozen staring that hoodie for a long time.

Distantly, she can hear Claudia trying to reassure Dustin

(Oh, please, Claudia loves me. probably more than she ever loved Dustin in the first place.

-only because you mow our lawn every month! and compliment her cooking! She also worries about me not having an older male figure in my life and for some godforsaken reason she thinks that you’re fulfilling that role-

ok! we get it! Dustin’s mom loves Steve. now would both of you shut the hell up before you scare any more customers off)

despite the shakiness in the older woman’s own voice.

Robin’s mom doesn’t let go of her until Robin lifts her head up and slowly loosens her hands. Melissa reaches up and wipes at some of the tears on her face.

“Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you cleaned up. You can change your clothes and then Officer Callahan in the hallway needs to ask you a couple of questions.”

She lets herself be guided towards the bathroom and doesn’t fight it when her mom begins rinsing off her hands and arms in the sink. As the dried blood runs off, it she realizes that none of it is hers. From the massive stain on the front of her uniform, the big splotches on both of her arms, to the streak smeared across her cheek; every last drop of it is Steve’s. Sure, she has a couple of bruises on her side from falling over in the chair, but she’s almost 100% injury free.

“He died because of me. He got their attention so they wouldn’t come after me or the kids. They hurt him, um, they- it was just so bad, but he kept insisting that he was fine. I had to help him walk when we got to the parking lot, but I- I really thought that he was going to be okay,” Robin pauses as Melissa gets to the dirt and blood around her eyes and mouth, “He had to be okay. There wasn’t any other option. We sat down on the pavement to wait for help and his head was on my chest and he was just kinda slumped into me. He- he just told me he needed to rest for a second, Mom, he was dying in my arms and I had no idea. He apologized for getting blood and snot all over my uniform. Oh my god- that was the last thing he said to me, Steve was dying and he apologized to me. I don’t remember what I said back but it was probably something stupid. I should have told him I loved him. I don’t think I knew that I did until I noticed that he wasn’t really moving anymore. God, Mom. He died in my arms and I didn’t do anything about it.”

Melissa is quiet as she listens to her daughter’s panicked words. She doesn’t have a clue what her daughter has been through since she left for work yesterday, but it sounds like she owes Steve for her daughter’s safety. Melissa never actually met Steve in person, but she had been hearing about him from Robin for years. Recently, the sentiment behind his name has gotten much fonder

(steve babysits a whole gaggle of middle schoolers, did you know that? he refuses to let the moms pay him and the kids bully him constantly! i simply do not understand any of it-)

than it was when the two went to school

(-steve harrington! he thinks he’s king of the whole school with that stupid hair, getting any girl that he wants-)

together. She’s not sure what exactly changed, but she was happy that Robin was making more friends her age.

“Robin, honey, take a deep breath. I know you’re upset and you have every right to be, but it’s over now. There’s nothing that you could have done that would have saved that poor boy’s life. You made it out of there and you saved those kids in the process. You did so much more than anyone could have ever asked you to. It’s not fair to you or to Steve for you to blame yourself for his death. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I saw you in that parking lot. I love you so much, you know that? I’m sure Steve knew that you loved him too without you having to say it to his face. He sounded like a good kid, I’m sorry I never got to meet him.”

There isn’t much more to say for either of them at that point. Melissa decides that Robin’s as clean as she’s going to get and gently helps her change her clothes. Under normal circumstances, Robin would never allow her to, but at the moment her hands are shaking so badly that she’s not entirely sure she’d be able to do it herself.

“I stole this from Steve last week.”

A Hawkins High Swim Team hoodie in her hands is the school’s team colors. The name Harrington is plastered on the back with one R and half of the T missing. Steve wore it to work

(reliving your glory days there, huh, Harrington?)

once and accidentally left it there. Robin had put it on to unload some tubs of ice cream out of the walk-in freezer at the end of her shift and when she got home, she realized she was still wearing it. She was planning on giving it back eventually but she had assumed she had the whole summer to give it back so what was the rush?

Melissa slowly covered her shaking hands with her steady ones. Robin was crying again, evidenced by the wet spots quickly appearing on the hoodie she was holding against her chest. Gently, she pried it out of her hands and slowly guided her arms into it.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. Most of the kids are gone once she gets done talking to the police, so the only people she sees are the Byers’ clan in passing. Joyce comes over and hugs her, breath catching slightly at the sight of the hoodie, but they don’t say anything to each other. Silent understanding seems to be the running theme of the night.

By the time they leave the hospital, it’s daylight outside.

——

I’m sorry!!!! I think i might eventually add more to this but for right now this is it. this was very therapeutic to write at first but now if i think about it anymore I might actually break my computer <3

Edit: ao3 link!!

#ali's ficlets #steve harrington & robin buckley #this is sad #this is so sad I’m really warning you here #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things 3 #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #codependent stobin #stobin fic #major character death #Steve Harrington dies #dustin henderson #erica sinclair

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cherrycelsius · 10 months

Text

100 things i L♡VE ABOUT YOU

just a small reminder that you deserve to be loved (cheesy asf i know but shut up) all ur exes can die.

1. you're a fucking nerd. i love that, truly

2. that fat ass, fr ❤️‍🩹

3. and a big brain to match tbh...

4. the way you're so smart and amazing

5. when i ask questions about resident evil or other things that you like and u say u don't wanna wear me out with the lore but explain when i ask anyway

6. the way you're so easily distracted by the little things

7. i be sending you one thing and you'll be replying with something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

8. when you forget the randomest shit but remember something that happened in 2021 🤨

9. one of my favorite moments with you was when we just kept sending each other that one face pic of leon kennedy LMAOOOO

10. the "u hate me" arguments we seem to have every day

11. the way you have me ranked as your #1 favorite ex and u as mine.

12. when i listen to love songs and immediately think of you

13. when u flirt then play it off as a joke in the end like i'm not already folding for u

14. your affinity with character ai even though sometimes u forget to reply to me.

15. when you send SCREENSHOTS of your toe curling blood boiling smut of miguel and leon and luis....

16. when i asked if you'd worship me and u said yes 😇😇😇😇 feeding into my kink and for what

17. that one discord date we had where we read aeon vacation fanfic .. that one's engraved in my brain.

18. the porn links we exchange on discord LMAOOO idk i love that kind of sentimentality..

19. the way there's a literal discord server for your porn links specifically

20. the hours we spend on any sort of platform

21. NO BC ITS the way we forget time exists every time we spend time with each other.

22. seriously i could be watching you play for eight hours and i wouldn't mind in the least bit.

23. i love spending time with you

24. the buzzfeed quiz parties before we were dating and we always got couples... and i took that as a fucking sign BAYBEEE but

25. u thought i was joking every time i flirt with you.....

26. rave dates where we watch those horror shorts

27. THE BF ASMR VIDEOS

28. that one bf asmr where he sounded like david harbour and you were off the rails and giddy as fuck

29. when we watched architectural digest videos.

30. and i asked you if you would fuck me inside of david's bathroom (you said yes obvi

31. when we watched a harry styles x y/n fanfic video and it ended with you skipping and watching a draco malfoy x y/n one instead. jesus christ

32. the edits and reels that YOU send that mostly traumatises me beyond repair

33. the edits i always send you that you always watch

34. when you let me rant about the most bizarre things

35. your obsession with leon kennedy. (why tf do people hate when you obsess over FICTIONAL CHARACTERS GOOD LORD)

36. your obsession with men and women half your age. bc twins

37. that one era you had where you always say "humps" or "rides my phone" fuckinf hell you're a freak.

38. when you say you're bored and i purposefully ask if u wanna do something with me .

39. our goodreads era where you were my only goodreads friend and we read together LMAO

40. the way you read the books i recommend you :(

41. that you fell for me first but i fell harder U down bad bitch, we kinda ate with this he fell first she fell harder trope

42. when we're literally red string theory reincarnated

43. enemies-to-friends-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers ex-best-friend amen

44. the way you'd let me watch you play video games for hours

45. when you sit through barbie movies with me even though you "hate" them.

46. the liminal spaces videos that we watch when we don't know what to watch

47. when you say yes every time i'd ask if you wanted to fuck inside an empty liminal space parking spot

48. honestly you say yes to me asking if you wanna fuck every time so..

49. the way u always say i cheated every time i win in plato games 🙄🙄🙄

50. every time we talk shit about our exes honestly, i love that

51. when we have these moments where we just reminisce about before we were dating

52. and i make fun of you for liking me first and you get flustered but really, you're absolutely adorable

53. the rare times that we play roblox and they're always horror games :P

54. the amount of inside jokes we have jesus christ

55. when we joked about having a child named leonidas jr

56. and then suddenly we have six children as of now... wanna reproduce again?

57. the day we watched breaking bad on discord

58. our spotify sessions where you would YELL at me for accidentally skipping a song that you liked

59. our rave dates starting with bf asmr and ending with liminal space videos

60. and when there was one point where i was in the hospital and YOU PLAYED A HOSPITAL HORROR VIDEO?

61. the way you modeled jamie bower for me even though you thought he was ugly

62. our stranger things era when i was appalled when u asked what was wrong with jancy kissing BC I DIDNT KNOW U LIKED ME THEN

63. when u are literally the luke to my lorelai

64. when we matched as them and it made so much sense

65. every time we'd start being little horny freaks then make fun of each other right after

66. our little "i found a ______ edit" "and you didn't send it to me" moments

67. the edits you send me that you say reminds you of me :(

68. HOTDOGATERIA

69. when you have those dark daddy dom episodes and start typing everything in capitalised letters and call me kitten.

70. the letter stickers we send each other that spell out the most lewd shit like

71. "some of u have the personality of a wet sock and it shows" "you make my sock wet" IDK THAT IS ONE OF MY STRONGEST MEMORIES OF U

72. the insults that turns into sexual innuendos every time we banter.

73. your little perverted dirty jokes

74. when you called me honey one time and i started calling you honey ever since

75. when you add eyebrows to my cat pics

76. the crazy ass text posts or memes you send and go "us"

77. when i'd be threatening your life and you'd say it's hot or moan.

78. the platonic / bff / friend era we have that resurfaces every few months

79. ok 3/4 way through i'm gonna get sappier... when you say you miss me

80. the edit you made me that i watch every day because it's so cute stfu

81. or wanna kiss me i swear it makes my heart flutter stupidly

82. the amount of times where i'd just smile stupidly while thinking of you is so jarring

83. when you asked if you wanted to claim ada and leon with me, and since then, they have been your favourite claim of ours.

84. the "i had a dream where i replied to u" moments >:(

85. when i tell you to sleep because you say you're tired and you say no because you wanna talk to me... do u wanna make me cry or what?

86. every time we have these conversations where we talk about our exes and i subtly hint that i love you very very much. not so subtle.

87. the cutscenes of video games you play that you think we should claim, and they're either absolutely unhinged or romantic.

88. when we claim absolute psychopaths to disney couples to high fantasy characters to furries. our duality fr

89. "i can't impregnate you with cats" LMAO one of my favorite lines from u honestly.

90. the fact that your love language is words of affirmation and coincidentally i like writing things.. soulmatism? i think yes.

91. each and every time you tell me you love me (i keep screenshots ok)

92. the way some days melt into one with you and i end up only talking to you and it feels complete somehow

93. the essay you sent me where you called me a homewrecker 🙄 but i loved it anyway. especially the last paragraph :( fuck you (literally)

94. every time you call me baby or your love plspslsposososo :( it just makes meeeeeeeeee fold

95. you introduced me to your favorite game :( and i and i and i

96. and you let me watch you play and panic around while playing

97. it makes my heart melt that you're comfortable enough to joke around with me :( truly

98. I FEEL SELFISH FOR SAYING THIS but it really makes me happy that you do things with me that you never do with anyone else, idk i feel soecial about it leave me alone.

99. the way there is never a day where you don't make me smile, that you absolutely complete my day, and that you're my absolute favorite person.

100. and lastly, you. i love you. soooo much. never forget that please.

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 1 year

Text

India Lima Yankee - Bonus Chapter

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2411

Warnings: Mild pregnancy complications

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: None!

Chapter Songs: All I Want For Christmas Christmas Baby Cold December Night

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32 Chp 33 Chp 34 Chp 35 Chp 36 Chp 37 Chp 38 Chp 39 Chp 40 Chp 41 Chp 42 Chp 43 Chp 44 Chp 45 Bonus Info Bonus Chapter

Rooster

Bradley Bradshaw discovered his wife curled up under a blanket on the couch with Raptor and Lightning, reading a book in the warm yellow lights of their Christmas tree. She looked miserable. Leaning against the wall, he asked, "What are you doing up?"

Juliette snapped her head up, and in the dim light, he could see her paleness. "I've been nauseous for the past hour, and nothing is helping, not even the anti-nausea medicine the doctor gave me. It's taking ages to kick in," she said sleepily, glancing over at the pill bottle on the coffee table with distaste. "What are you doing up?"

"Bad dream. Why didn't you wake me up? I would've sat up with you." Rooster moved to her end of the couch, intending to sit on the coffee table to be closer to her without moving the dogs, but Juliette sat up and moved over just enough to allow him some space next to her. He pulled her onto his lap and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"You're not getting enough sleep as it is. Still having nightmares?" Juliette inquired, looping her arms around his neck.

"Yeah, I guess getting shot down and traipsing through an enemy base and evading fifth-gen fighters in a fourth-gen fighter can do some damage to your psyche. Nothing I can't handle, though. I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you. Do the docs know why the morning sickness is so bad?"

Juliette shook her head. "No, they're saying all my hormone levels are super high, and that's what's causing all this." Juliette chuckled weakly and added jokingly, "Maybe it's twins."

"Let's hope they take on more after you than me because I was a troubled-ass kid."

"Hey, you went through things no kid should ever go through. If they take on after you, they'll be extremely lucky. And hey, I've seen the pictures of the men in your family. If we have a boy, he's going to be a heartbreaker."

"And if we have a girl, she's going to be beautiful like her mother and all the women before her." Rooster kissed his fiancée, smiling into it. He started to say more, but Juliette's hand flung to cover her mouth, and she bolted off his lap faster than a jet launched off a carrier catapult. Rooster followed her to the bathroom and barely managed to pull her hair back before she hurled into the toilet.

"Oh, I hate this," Juliette groaned, leaning away and sitting against the cabinets. Rooster grabbed some tissues for her, which she gratefully took to wipe her mouth. "I'm creating life, and this is how Mother Nature decides to thank me?"

"I wish there was something I could do to help," Rooster said sympathetically, hating seeing Juliette in this state. "Are you up to going to your mom's later?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. I want to go. Besides, we're giving everyone the big news, and I don't want to miss that. If it gets much worse, I'll go to urgent care or the ER to make sure it's nothing else, okay?"

"I'll be by your side wherever you go. Come on, let's get you back to the couch."

"No, no, brush my teeth first, then bed. It's still a little easier for me to sleep in the bed. I only went to the couch so I wouldn't wake you up."

"You can always wake me up when you're not feeling well, Jules. This is what I'm here for." Rooster stood up and held out his hands to help her up. Juliette gratefully took them. The couple strolled hand-in-hand to their room, intent on getting a little bit of rest before the chaos of Christmas Day.

Things hadn't gone as planned. Juliette passed out the moment she got out of bed later that morning. She barely called out for Rooster before she collapsed, and he narrowly managed to catch her. He rushed her to the hospital, much to her protest when she came to.

"I'm fine, Rooster. I'm sure it was my blood pressure dropping too low," Juliette insisted, bracing her head against the window.

"My mom thought she was fine for weeks before she went and saw a doctor," Rooster said sharply, a flashback of his mom eerily repeating Juliette's words almost exactly: I'm fine, Bradley. Just my blood pressure dropping too low.

It hadn't been that. It'd been something so much worse, and Rooster hadn't been able to convince his mom to go see a doctor sooner. Then again, even if he had, they would've told her she was fine, that it was stress. He wouldn't let it happen to Juliette or his future child. Besides, medicine had come so far now, surely they wouldn't make the same mistake now with Juliette as they had his mom?

Juliette had reached over and laced her fingers with his free hand, smiling understandingly at him. "India Lima Yankee."

Rooster smiled. "India Lima Yankee."

The trip and stay at the hospital turned out to be short. As Juliette stated earlier, it had simply been her blood pressure dropping too low, but they left with more information than they intended, and a flood of emotions went through them. It also sent them scrambling to buy new presents for Sarah and Maverick.

Upon arrival at the Kazansky house, as the last people to arrive due to the unplanned hospital visit, they had to park on the road, meaning a long trek for them up to the door. Rooster turned to Juliette and asked, "You sure you're up for this? You've had a hell of a day, and I know this year is... particularly hard since-"

"Dad's not here," Juliette finished, sniffing. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. I'm going to stay off my feet as much as possible. Besides, we have to give everyone the news. Trust me, there's no better surprise than this for my mom."

"Then let's get going." Rooster hopped out of the Bronco and rushed to the other side to open Juliette's door. As she stepped out, he kept a grip on her hand until she stood steady for long enough that there was no threat of her fainting. Then, and only then, did he let the dogs out of the backseat, who darted to the front door. The couple followed, and on the way, Rooster asked, "Hey, how many insinuations do you think I can make before people start to catch on that you're pregnant?"

Juliette grinned. "Let's find out."

Before they could knock, Sarak Kazansky threw open the door and enthusiastically greeted the two with a hug. In the blink of an eye, the pair found themselves going from one person to the next in the packed household: first Maverick and Penny greeted them, followed by Jack and his family, then Joey, and then the Daggers. Even Hondo, Warlock, and Cyclone came with their spouses. Rooster tried to stay near Juliette as much as possible, and if not near her, then at least have his fiancée in his line of sight, the events of earlier still fresh in his mind.

Two hours in, Rooster entered the kitchen, where Juliette sat at the counter chatting with Hangman and Maverick. He peered into the oven and remarked, "Ooh, got some buns in the oven."

Juliette hid a snicker behind a fake coughing fit, then said, "Mom's making two kinds as well, so it's double the goodness."

"Speaking of doubles, think I'm gonna have one." Rooster shot Juliette a mischievous look. "Mav, you want anything?"

"No, I'm good. I still have my beer." Maverick lifted his bottle. "Jules, you want something?"

"Nah, I was sick all morning and doubt alcohol will help. I'll stick with water."

Maverick's brow creased in concern. "How come you were sick all morning?"

Juliette shrugged. "Could be anything, but I'm fine now."

"Are you sure? You didn't eat anything weird recently?"

"Outside of the Prego's tomato sauce the other day? No. Hey, Rooster, what did you use to call Prego's when you were little?"

Rooster cringed, knowing Hangman wouldn't let him live down the truth for ages. Still, it was yet another hint for everyone at their big announcement later, and he couldn't resist it. "Preggers."

Hangman snorted into his drink. "Classic."

At that moment, Sarah Kazansky walked into the kitchen and pulled out the prime rib and roast chicken. She hollered out that dinner was ready, and everyone swarmed into the kitchen. Rooster sidled up next to Juliette, ensuring he stayed close to her while she stood and walked around in the event she passed out again. He doubted she would right now, but it'd scared him earlier to the point he found himself paranoid about her wellbeing.

The evening passed with good food, good company, and good conversation. Rooster mainly talked with Maverick and Juliette, who sat beside him, and Phoenix, who sat across from him. He and Jules even slipped in a few more pregnancy idioms and insinuations, mainly at the end of the dinner. Juliette leaned back in her seat and groaned, "Uh, I was so hungry, I ate enough for two or three people."

"Got a food baby?" Rooster teased, gingerly patting her stomach.

"I think there might be two."

"Well then, Merry Christmas to me! Best present yet!"

"Oh, speaking of presents, Mom, Mav, I want to give you yours before I forget." Juliette started to get up, but Rooster beat her to it, shooting her a disapproving look at how fast she tried to move. Jules sighed, evidently annoyed that she couldn't do what she usually did. Rooster returned shortly with the two presents and handed them to his parents. Then he sat back down in his chair and tried to hide his anticipation at their reaction. Sarah and Maverick opened theirs, although the former was a little faster. She blanched at the little onesie she pulled out that said: Guess what? August 2021.

"You're pregnant?" Sarah Kazansky squeaked, tears welling in her eyes.

"It's twins?" Maverick added in disbelief, staring at the onesie he pulled out that said: Guess what else? It's twins.

Juliette nodded, biting back a broad smile. "Rooster and I had to scramble to find new onesies because we just found it was twins today."

The shock finally seemed to pass for everyone because the group burst into cheers while hugs were immediately exchanged. It was Hangman that pointed out, "You were dropping hints the entire time, weren't you? The buns in the oven, the eating for two or three, the food baby, the 'Preggers' joke-"

"That was actually a true story," Juliette chirped. "And I give you full permission to never let him live it down."

"Perfect!" Hangman grinned and enveloped her in a tight embrace that lasted longer than any he'd given her before. Then, his voice full of sincerity and excitement, he said, "Congratulations, Juliette. I'm so happy for you two."

She smiled at his use of her first name as he rarely used it, always calling her 'Princess' or 'Jules' or 'Kazansky.' "Thank you, Jake."

Before they could converse any further, Sarah and Maverick reached her, and she found herself unable to catch her breath between hugs and conversation about her pregnancy until she and Rooster arrived back at their house with the dogs. They collapsed onto the couch, not even bothering to turn the lights on, as the Christmas tree provided more than enough illumination.

"So," Rooster began, "I think it's fair to say everyone was excited."

Juliette nodded, fiddling with her locket. "Yes, I think so. Thought my mom was about to pass out when she found out with how much she paled."

"Pretty sure Maverick wasn't far behind her. How are you feeling?"

"Better. I think all the anti-nausea medicine finally kicked in. Now I'm just anxious."

"About what?"

"Being a mom to twins. I mean, I don't know the first thing about being a mom! I don't know what all milestones there are or what diapers are best to use or-or what is normal during pregnancy and what's not!" Juliette rambled quickly, her mouth moving faster than he'd ever seen. "I'm going to get so freaking fat, and I've never been able to lose weight easily, so losing the baby weight is going to be a bitch. Worst of all, you're probably going to be deployed when they're born and-" Juliette's voice cracked, and she bowed her head to hide the tears Rooster had already seen welling in her eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey, what brought this on?" Rooster asked gently, brushing her tears away with his thumb.

"Seeing pictures of my dad on the wall in all these different countries and ports and knowing that that's going to be you. And I'm so, so proud of you and supportive of you for being in the Navy, but I'm selfish in that I want you here with me."

"Well, then, your wish is granted."

"It's not. You're still having to-"

"I'm going to be stationed at the naval base here. I already talked to Cyclone about it tonight, and he's given his approval. Apparently, he has a few favors of his own he can cash in to make it happen if it doesn't happen when he asks nicely."

Juliette looked up, eyes full of surprise. "Y-you're staying here?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm never leaving you again, Jules, not as long as I can help it." Rooster placed a hand on her barely swollen belly. "I'm going to be here for you every step of the way, every bad morning, every anxious thought, every pound gained, and I'm going to love you through it all too. If you're scared about losing the weight, I can help you get back in shape afterward when you're ready. We have your mom, Mav, and Penny to watch the twins when they're born, so we don't have to worry about babysitters. And if none of those three can do it, we have the Daggers as backup, although we need to make a list of who would be best and who not to call."

Juliette smiled through her tears. "Have I ever said how much I love you?"

"You don't need to. I know." Rooster lifted her left hand and kissed the skin next to her engagement ring. "India Lima Yankee."

Juliette cupped his face and kissed him. Her lips brushed against his as she said, "India Lima Yankee."

****

A/N: Threw this together after @polikszena gave me an ask about what Rooster and Juliette would be like at Christmas time. I made it relatively short and sweet, but I hope you enjoyed! And for the record, the twins came a month early on July 4!

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @souslesyeuxde @gleasonmalfoy @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @picklejuicesposts @bradshawsandbridgetons @majdoline @jakexfmc @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @nicangelinee @mak-32

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