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liliacamethyst · 11 months

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Web of Shadow and Light (Part III)

Sequel to Webs of Fate

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2 K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine

Part I Part II Part III

The Spider-HQ echo with an unsettling symphony - a child's piercing cries and the hushed whispers of concern from some of the multiverse's bravest Spider heroes. They stand clustered around the smallest yet most powerful disturbance they've ever encountered - a baby boy. His wails have been echoing through the HQ since Miguel left the room, leaving the baby and dozens of Spider-man behind. Each cry is a call for help that pulls at their hearts, demanding attention, challenging their patience.

After much deliberation and coaxing from the rest, Miguel gave his team an ultimatum - they have until dawn to find an alternative solution, before Gabriel has to be eliminated, before the universe collapses on itself. His voice was a cold whisper when he spoke, "Figure out another way by tomorrow morning, or..." Nobody dares to complete the sentence, not even Miguel, the unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. And with that Miguel was gone, and the baby immediately started wailing and hasn’t stopped since.

Now Gwen, with her brows knitted in worry, rocks the baby with desperate gentleness. Her blue eyes are bright with unshed tears, a look of sheer helplessness painting her usually confident face. Beside her Peter B. is attempting to cheer Gabriel up but his efforts as pointless as they are endearing. The usually funny and charming Peter B seems to be losing a battle of wits with a one-year-old. It would've been humorous, had the situation been any different.

The sight of the little baby boy weeping his heart out, oblivious to the chaos his presence is causing tugs at their hearts, binding them in a collective resolution - they must protect this child. The shadows and the light, entwined in this web they’ve all been thrown into. And the clock is ticking.

Hobie scoops up the little boy, cradling him close in an attempt to soothe his relentless tears. "See, the cow says muhhhhh," he coos. His tiny cries falter, curiosity momentarily replacing distress. He gazes at Hobie with wide eyes, intrigued by the cool looking man. "And the butterfly," Hobie pauses dramatically, "well, the butterfly don’t say nothin’." He continues his little game, while rocking the baby gently in his arms. "And the pig says-"

Miles chimes in with an eager grin, "Oink, Oink."

"Nah, bruv," Hobie laughs. “The pig says, ‘You have the right to remain silent!’”

Gabriel’s face scrunches up, and the waterworks start again. Hobie chuckles, "Fair enough, little fella. Cops make me wanna cry too."

Meanwhile Jessica Drew, clad in her black and white Spider-Woman outfit, her dark locks cascading around her shoulders, is leaning against the doorframe, half entering the room, her eyebrows raised. "Well? I assume he didn’t stop crying?“

Beside her Peter B. with his shaggy brown hair and five o’ clock beard just shakes his head.

“This is nuts. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is working.“ Gwen states.

In the background, the cries of baby Gabriel cotinue, little fists flailing as he continued his tantrum. Jessica, arching an eyebrow, comments, “He’s still going at it?”

Hobie Brown, just gives her a quick nod. “Oh yeah, the kid has got a set of lungs.”

Suddenly, Pavitr Prabhakar, yelps as a makeshift toy, made out of wood and spiderwebs, hit him square in the forehead. "Ow! And one hell of arm throw."

Methodically, Jessica starts running through a mental checklist. “Diaper?”

Peter B. Parker nods. “Clean.”

“Food?” Jessica glances at Miles who holds a baby food jar and a bent spoon.

Miles, in his black and red suit, shrugs. “Kept smacking the spoon out my hand.”

“Nap?” Jessica's questions further.

The entire room answer in unison, clearly frustrated “Literally the first thing we tried.”

Pavitr smirkes at them. “Jinx.” But his joke is short-lived as Gabriels screams become even louder.

Gwen, then takes charge, “Ok, we have to do something,” her eyes flicking around the room with determination. She points to Jess, “You have to talk to Miguel. You’ve been around him the longest, maybe you can get through to him.”

Jess looks hesitant but nods.

“And Peter,” Gwen turns to Peter B who’s still juggling items in his hands, to entertain the baby and stop his crying. “Get Mayday’s toys. Maybe the baby’s just bored.”

Peter gives a thumbs up. “You got it, boss.”

“And Pav, Hobie,” Gwen instructs, her voice steady. “You need to rally the other Spider-people. We need everyone on board to protect this little guy.”

“Margo, you’re with me, girl. We are paying our old friend Lyla a little surprise visit. Something’s a little fishy with her.” Margo nods eagerly.

As everyone scatters into action, Miles stands there, looking slightly lost and raising his hands. "Hey, guys, you forgot about me! What am I supposed to do? How can I help?" he calls out to the rapidly moving group.

Pav whirls around and points at Miles, "You, take care of the little guy, newbie," he says, as Hobie thrusts the still crying baby into Miles' arms.

"Great," Miles grumbles, balancing Gabriel on his hip and looking down at the squirming bundle of tears.

He starts to bounce up and down gently, trying to imitate what he's seen in movies. The baby continues to cry, unfazed by Miles' efforts.

“Alright buddy, let’s figure this out together. I can swing through New York, so how hard can babysitting be?” Miles whispers to the baby.

Hours drag on and Gabriel's relentless cries continue to echo through the HQ. Despite his earnest attempts, Miles, armed with only his spider powers and limited babysitting experience, is unsuccessful in calming the baby. He’s tried everything he can think of – makinf funny faces, telling funny stories in a soothing tone, gently swinging him back and forth with his web-slinging skills, and even humming a little tune (it was Humble by Kendrick Lamar, but the thought counts, right?). At one point, he even tried to entertain the baby by creating animals out of webbing, but that didn’t work either. The baby is relentless, and his cries only seem to get louder.

In the meantime in Miguel’s office, the echoing cries penetrate through the walls. Migel is sitting behind his desk looking at some documents, while Jess stands in front of him.

“Please, Miguel, it’s a baby boy. How did you imagine doing this, huh?” Jess exclaims, her voice rising. “Did you plan to build some sort of machine to just vaporize him? Or did you think of strangling him with your own bare hands? I know you’re not a monster.” But Miguel's face remains stoic, his eyes never leaving the papers on his desk.

“And look,” Jess continues, pointing vaguely in the direction of where the baby’s cries are coming from, “this baby is already older, and nothing has collapsed yet. The universe is still here.”

“I can’t risk any more lives, Jess,”Miguel responds coldly, finally looking up at her.

“But what if there is another way? We haven’t even tried everything. We have brilliant minds here. Let’s...let’s figure something out that doesn’t involve.. that,” Jess pleads, her voice softening.

Miguel looks at her for a long moment but his expression remains unreadable. The cries of the baby continue to fill the air.

Jess then turns her gaze towards Lyla, , who is stationed nearby, her holographic interface flickering with data. “Lyla, what are the kid’s powers? Run a genetics test, a DNA test. We need something to work with.”

Lyla’s synthetic voice answers in an eerily calm tone, "I have already processed the genetic information, Jessica. Thanks very much, genius. As per my findings, the child’s power attributes remain undefined. In regards to the DNA test..."

Lyla hesitates just a fraction of a second, but enough for Miguel to notice. It's an unexpected response from an AI that's programmed to be efficient and direct. A strange tingle rises within him but he pushes it aside, refocusing on the matter at hand.

“is inconclusive.” Jess squints at Lyla. “Inconclusive? What do you mean? Is he an anomaly or not?”

“He’s an anomaly, certainly. However, the DNA analysis is...complicated,” Lyla maintains her composed tone. “Complicated how?” Jess presses on. “Just...unfamiliar and intermingled genetic markers,” Lyla responds vaguely. “The child is an enigma.”

"Miguel, please" she continues, turning back to Miguel, clearly frustrated with Lyla's vague responses that are not helping her case. Her tone is still serious, "this isn't some variation of a monster, this is a baby."

For a moment, Miguel’s gaze flickers, his usual icy aura briefly wavering. "It doesn't matter," he finally grunts, closing his eyes as if to physically shut out the argument. Jessica's voice turns unexpectedly brittle. "I didn't join the Society to kill innocent kids."

Miguel clenches his jaw hard. "We do what we have to do for the greater good. No exceptions." Jessica takes a deep breath, her next words coming out almost in a whisper. "What if there was my Gerald or a version of your-" she begins, but is quickly cut off.

"DON’T. Don't even go there, Jessica" Miguel growls, his hand forming into a tight fist. "And why the hell is it still crying?"

Jessica's gaze softens slightly. "That child, that little boy, probably misses his parents. Parents who are going through hell right now, searching for their baby." Miguel's fist tightens further, a spark of something, maybe regret, guilt, flashing in his eyes. Jessica presses on trying one last time to convince him. "He was found in 586, right? Maybe we can reconnect with Su-"

"No," Miguel interrupts sharply, his voice a final command. “Until tomorrow morning, Jess,” he finally says in a low voice, putting an end to Jess’ outburst. “That’s all. You can leave now.”

There’s a heavy silence, where the only sound is Gabriel’s distant crying.

Jessica looks at Miguel, her gaze piercing. "Think about what you’re doing, Miguel," she whispers and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.

In the heart of the HQ, Margo sifts through the labyrinth of Lyla's concealed data. She uncovers a file that captures her attention – the baby's DNA results. "There you are," she mutters to herself, an air of triumph in her voice. As she opens the file, her eyes widen in disbelief, "Oh no…“

"What is it, Margo?" Gwen asks making her way over to Margo.

Margo's voice trembles slightly. "So, while looking through the hidden data, I found the baby's... there was a parental match."

Gwen's heart skips a beat. “I knew something was was off with Lyla. Of course she knows more. Well, who are the little guy's parents?"

Margo hesitates, then blurts out, "Miguel and Sunny."

Gwen stops dead in her tracks, her mind reeling. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"The baby's mother is Sunny, and the father is Miguel," Margo reiterates, her voice steady.

Gwen eyes widen. "But... are you sure? I know Sunny's baby. I was there when baby Gabriel was born!“

"Yes, I'm sure. There were two parental matches for the baby in the spider DNA logs:Sun Spider and Spider-Man 2099. When was the last time you saw the baby, Gwen? Babies change quickly at that age." Margo confirms.

"Miguel and Sunny? That's not possible... how have we never noticed that there's something going on between those two?" Gwen's mind whirls with confusion.

"Oh, I noticed," Margo's voice holds a hint of smugness, "The way he was sneaking into her room at night? And the way he looked at her every time she set foot in a room, like a lovesick puppy. It was adorable. Wait, nobody else noticed?"

Gwen splutters, taken aback, "What? No, I... well, he's all 'we need to sacrifice ourselves to protect the multiverse. No more traveling for fun'" she imitates Miguel's voice with a teasing lilt, then she adds, "And Sunnys is literally the personification of a warm embrace."

Gwen's mind whirls but she continues, “ Woah, okay lets focus on the important part. I mean, I knew something was wrong with Lyla, but why... why would she do that?"

"There's more, Gwen," Margo says, her voice shaking slightly. "I found another thing in her data. It's... it's about how she's processing information."

Gwen frowns, "What do you mean?"

Margo takes a deep breath before explaining, "In simple terms, Lyla's been teaching herself new things. She's changing, growing beyond her original programming. Her code is self-evolving."

"And the data about the baby?" Gwen asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Margo sighs, "She's been... twisting it, making the baby seem more dangerous than it actually is."

Gwen's mind reels with this new information, the world around her seeming to tilt. "But why?" she finally manages to ask. "Why would Lyla do this?"

"I don't know, Gwen," Margo admits. "But we need to find out and warn Miguel. And soon."

Meanwhile in Miguels office, the wailing becomes louder, almost as if piercing through the walls, trying to reach something, or someone. Miguel's face betrays his discomfort, as if the cries are tugging at his walls around his heart. There's a weight on his chest, something unidentifiable that makes it hard to breathe.

Suddenly Lyla’s holographic interface hums. She begins to show the outline various strategies for eliminating the child. Her voice, analtytic but almost cheerful, fills the room. “So, we could create a temporal displacement field, effectively erasing the child from existence. Or perhaps expose him to a slow-acting molecular destabilizer..."

"Based on the trial," she continues unfazed by Miguel’s lack of response. "the device should work as intended, wiping out any of its DNA and trace. Be like the anomaly never existed." There's a hint of satisfaction in her words.

Miguel, until now staring blankly at the wall, finally turns towards Lyla, his complexion pale and his eyes wide.

His insides twist painfully, the mere idea of bringing harm to this innocent child becoming now unbearable.

“Stop,” Miguel chokes out.

“Apologies, Miguel. We must consider all options for preserving the multiverse. You out of all people should know that,”Lyla retorts.

But something within Miguel snaps. His ice-cold distant facade crumbles. Rising abruptly, his chair clatters loudly onto the floor.

Without saying another word, he strides out of his office. “Miguel? Are you listening? Where are you going?” Lyla calls after him, but her words are unanswered in the empty room.

Walking down the hallway, Miguel slows down as he passes the room where the infant's cries come from. He pauses when he hears Miles' pleas inside.

“Little dude, if you stop crying promise I’ll get you some cool kicks. Maybe some baby Jordans? Please, please just stop crying,” Miles pleads, his voice sounding desperate and utterly exhausted.

After a moment hesitation, Miguel pushes open the door and steps into the room. His gaze, sterner than ever, as he takes in the scene: Miles looking near defeat, his energy spent trying to soothe the wailing child, his spider suit rumpled and hair disheveled.

"Enough," Miguel comms sharply.

Miles looks up from where he's been pacing with the baby, his eyes wide like he's just been caught stealing cookies from a jar. “You,” Miguel points at Miles, who is holding the still-crying baby. His voice booms with authority. “Put him down”

Miles, slightly dumbfounded, obeys and carefully lays the child down on his makeshift bed. “I need you to return to Earth 586. Get some of his belongings - toys, blankets, anything you can find," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"But Miguel--" Miles startsbut gets cut off immediately.

"Now," he says, his red eyes flashing dangerously. Miles opens the portal hastily and disspears to your universe.

The crying has subsided to whimpers, and Miguel finds himself kneeling next to the little one, who reaches out for him. As if on autopilot, Miguel’s hands scoop him up abruptly from the bed.

"Quiet, niño. "Miguel growls at him with a low and threatening tone. "I could just... do it right now." His irritation gets the better of him, and he bares his fangs at the little one. This sight shocks Gabriel into silence for a moment, his big, teary eyes widening at the sight.

But then, to Miguel's surprise, the baby breaks into a fit of giggles, the sound infectious and joyous.

Gabriel suddenly mimics Miguel, baring his own little teeth – two tiny milk teeth and the beginnings of baby fangs peeking from his gums, causing Miguel to stiffen in shock.

Caught off guard Miguel's hold slips and Gabriel lands back on the web-shaped bed with a bounce. The baby's laughter ends abruptly and is replaced once more with tears and cries.

Still in shock, Miguel stumbles back a step, but Gabriel's cries soon pull him back into the present. With a sigh, he picks up the little boy yet again andGabriel immediately snuggles into the crook of Miguel’s neck, his tiny arms winding tightly around his throat. Miguel swallows hard, unsure of what to do next.

Then, almost instinctively, he starts to hum a tune he thought he'd long forgotten. "Tú eres mi sol de la mañana, el sol que brilla..." His voice is barely audible, the words shaky. Gabriel's little body relaxes against him, a content sigh escaping his lips followed by a quiet yawn. He nuzzles closer to Miguel, his tiny breaths falling into sync with the rhythm of the song. "...alegra todo, mi corazón," Miguel coninues softly, his mind flooding with memories. He sees a bright, lively girl with the same curious eyes as the boy in his arms.

"Daddy," Gabriella asks, her large eyes bright with curiosity as she looks up at him, "why do you call me your morning sun? I'm not yellow."

Miguel chuckles at her innocence, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He cradles her against his chest, looking into those eyes so full of wonder. "No, mija" he replies, his voice soft with affection "you're not yellow but you are my sunshine."

"But why?" She wrinkles her little nose, her childish curiosity making Miguel's heart fill up with love.

"Because, mijita," he begins, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, "just like the sun, you light up my world. You chase away the darkness with your laughter and your love. You are warmth, you are joy, and just like the morning sun, you are a new beginning, a promise of a brighter day."

Gabriella blinks up at him, her lips curving into a small, and she hides her smile in the crook of his neck. "I like that, Papi," she whispers, "Sing the song again, please?"

“brilla, conmigo, brilla que brilla, alegrandome esta cancion. Tu eres mi sol de la manana…“

Eyes closed, Miguel draws Gabriel unconsciously closer, his heart full, and for the first time he’s feeling a sense of contentment he hasn't experienced in years.

The moment is shattered by the sound of a throat being cleared, pulling him abruptly out of his peaceful trance.

Peter B is standing in the doorway, arms loaded with various dolls. "Wow, he's finally asleep," he remarks, looking between Miguel and the now sleeping Gabriel with a relieved smile. "I was starting to think that was impossible."

Without responding, or even sparing a glance in Peter's direction, Miguel turns away from the door and heads to the bed. He gently places the sleeping toddler down, pulling a small blanket over him. Once he's confident that Gabriel is settled, Miguel quietly leaves the room, his demeanor as frosty and aloof as ever, making no acknowledgment of Peter's presence.

Peter B is quick on his feet, rushing after Miguel. "I brought him toys from Mayday," he blurts out. "She won't miss them. She's not too good at sharing, but I guess she won’t mind in this case."

Miguel continues his stride, not giving Peter so much as a backward glance. "Que maravilla," he mutters under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Ignoring the dismissal, Peter B. reaches out and places a hand on Miguel's arm, stopping him in his tracks. Miguel raises an eyebrow and glances back at him half-heartedly, clearly not interested in a conversation.

Peter takes a moment, his gaze intensifying. "Hey, boss," he begins, his voice shaky yet determined. "We can't let anything happen to this boy, right?"

At Peter's words, Miguel closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.

Back on Earth 586, you're in the throes of a meltdown. Your little boy, Gabriel, is nowhere to be found. You've scoured the whole city of Nea Yorkey, every nook and cranny you can think of, but there's no trace of him anywhere. Desperation gnaws at your insides, and fury bubbles up, hot and fierce. Your mind is in turmoil, swirling with anger and fear, clouding your ability to think straight. One thing is crystal clear though: whoever dared to touch your child will pay dearly for their actions.

You're frantically trying to find a way to contact anyone from the Spider Society, while simultaneously considering every possible avenue to traverse the multiverse yourself. Alchemax - the multinational conglomerate known for its cutting-edge research and technological advancements - seems to be your only hope. As you're about to make your way there, a sound from Gabriel's room stops you in your tracks.

Your Spider senses, already on high alert due to the unexpected circumstances, seem to kick into overdrive. Every instinct within you screams that something is about to happen. Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum as you slowly approach the room.

Meanwhile, in Gabriel's room, Miles is having his own share of troubles. In his haste, he stumbles over a toy car that starts making an assortment of noises and brightly lit animations. "Ah, this stupid toy!" he curses under his breath.

A thought suddenly crosses his mind and he wonders aloud, "Wait, does he need a blanket?" Just as he's about to reach for a small bunny stuffed animal that lay discarded on the floor, an intense blast of sonic energy sweeps across the room.

Caught by surprise, Miles finds himself flung across the room, his back hitting the wall with a thud. Before he can even let out a gasp, a spider web shoots out, pinning him securely against the wall. There he hangs, suspended, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he attempts to comprehend what just happened. Well its safe to say he didn’t saw that coming.

Miles, still stuck against the wall, manages to blurt out, "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" you echo, incredulity lacing your tone. "You break into my son's room and ask me whoI am?"

Your mind races as Miles stammers, "Wait, your son's room? Wait, are you...are you a Spider-person aswell?"

Ignoring his question, you stride towards him, an aura of threat radiating off you. "Stop talking!" you command, "I ask the questions!" In your hand, a ball of solar energy forms, crackling with power and casting a glow across the room.

"Why are you here? Where is my son?" The words are more of a growl than a question, the motherly instincts in you sending waves of danger rippling across the room. "Your son is okay, please don't hurt me!" Miles pleads with a shaky fear laced voice.

Squirmy and visibly frightened, Miles stammers out his confession, "We-we took him...it was our mission... He's an anomaly...we needed to get him out of this universe, send him to his own, so it wouldn’t collapse and interfere with the multiverse...but he doesn't have one, and I'm so sorry..."

His voice dwindles to a murmur, words tumbling over one another in his haste. Amidst his ramblings, your icy inquiry slices through like a blade, "Who instructed you?"

A sharp wince contorts his face, betraying his fear. "Our boss..." he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "Miguel... Miguel O'Hara."

The energy in your hand dissipates, leaving only shock in its place. It's almost too much to take in - the idea that Miguel, your Miguel, could have done something like this. "He's okay, we... we didn't know he was the son of a Spider-woman. I'm Miles Morales, by the way." he introduces himself, attempting to inject some normalcy into the situation.

"I'm Spider-Sun," you respond automatically, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

"Wait … you?" Miles' eyes widen in recognition. "You're Sunny?" When you give a numb nod in response, he continues, "You look more like 'Stormy' if you ask me." Your gaze snaps to Miles, the intensity of your death glare immediately silencing his attempt at humour. "Sorry, sorry," he stammers, raising his hands in surrender. "I just...I've heard Gwen and Peter talk about you."

"They never stop talking about you," Miles continues, trying to regain his composure. "They always say you have such a radiant personality and how much they miss you. They take care of your son, don’t worry. Hes safe for now.”

"What do you mean he's safe 'for now'?" you cut him off abruptly, your voice cold and hard. Miles gulps nervously before responding.

"Eh...we have until morning to find a solution for this...anomaly," he stammers. You interrupt him, seething with a fury that makes him cringe. "My son's name is Gabriel. He is not an 'anomaly'," you spit out the words like they are poison, hating the way they make your sweet little boy sound like some kind of mistake.

"Eh, yes, for Gabriel," Miles corrects hastily, "because, eh... if we don't find an alternative, they need to, eh...eliminate..." He trails off, speaking so quickly and softly that you almost don't catch his last word.

"ELIMINATE?????" You scream and for a split second, Miles is sure he sees your eyes blaze with a terrifying, luminating light.

"We can stop them. We can talk to them and say it's your son," Miles says quickly, desperately hoping to calm you.

"I don't talk. Bring me to my son," you demand. Without wasting another moment, you order him to open the portal. "Y-yes, right away, Sunn... eh, Mrs. Sun, eh... Ma'am," he stammers, visibly trembling under your steely gaze.

It takes him two shaky attempts before he manages to successfully open the portal, his hands still unsteady from the encounter.

Back at the headquarters, Peter chases after Miguel into his office. "Boss, all I'm saying is, what if Lyla is wrong?"

Miguel is pinching the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his lips. The weight of the situation is quickly becoming too overwhelming and he feels himself teetering dangerously close to his breaking point.

Just at that moment, Gwen, Pav, Margo and Hobie burst into the office, their faces set withdetermination. "Miguel, there’s something you need to know. Please hear us out. Margo and I, we found something.Lyla is - ," Gwen starts but Miguel is quick to silence her with a raised hand.

Just as Miguel is about to speak, the lights flicker, casting an ominous glow throughout the room. Hobie looks around nervously. "Is that eh...normal?"

Peter quirks an eyebrow. "Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?"

The lights flicker even more violently, plunging the room into a dance of shadow and light.

With a violent burst, the door is flung open, and a brilliant surge of light blinds everyone. You stand in the doorway, an ethereal aura glowing around you.

"O'Hara!" Your voice thunders through the room, heavy with wrath and revenge. As Miguel turns around to face the source of the sound, a massive, lightning-tinged sonar blast slams directly into his chest. He's pushed backward, knocked off balance before he can brace himself for the attack. He tries to recoverr, to shift into defense mode but he doesn't get the chance. You're relentless, a solar goddess in human form, hurtling blast after blast at him. Miguel has no time to regain his stance, each attack landing with more force than the last.

Gwen makes to step forward, her instincts screaming at her to intervene, but Peter grabs her arm, pulling her back. "That's Sunny," he says, his voice a mixture of awe and concern. Hobie's eyes widen comically. He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Our Sunny, eh? Blimey, I never knew she had it in her. That rebellious firecracker," he mutters, a distinct note of admiration creeping into his typically laid-back British drawl.

Miles bursts into the room, breathless and disheveled. He stumbles towards Gwen, his voice hurried and concerned, "I tried to stop her, but she was...she was furious. Woahhh, I've never seen Miguel get beaten like this before."

And he wasn't exaggerating. Miguel was fighting back, his fangs bared, his claws out and ready but he was no match for your rage-fueled attacks. You were right up in his face, delivering punch after punch at a brutal pace

"Where's my son, O’Hara? What have you done to him?" you demand, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

At your words, Miguel's movements falter. His defense wavers, and he barely manages to gasp out, "Your son?" He doesn't dodge your next blow, doesn't attempt to shield himself or strike back. Instead, he allows you to continue.

Miguel is shocked. His reflexes kick in as he sees the next punch coming and he grabs your wrist, halting your next powerful punch aimed for his face. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding an emotion you've never seen in him before. Is it fear? No, it's much deeper, more profound.

As he stares at you, your luminescent eyes gradually lose their fiery intensity, shifting back to their human form.

"I... I didn't know," Miguel stammers, his voice a trembling whisper. "Lo – lo siento. I – I didn’t know.”

His breaths are ragged, and you can see a war waging inside him.

"But...how?How didn’t I know?" His voice is choked, your wrist still securely in his grip. “Your son?” Miguel continues,his voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes search yours and all he sees is raw, untamed anger with an aching pain that pierces his soul.

“Yes, MY son!” your voice echoes through the room like a whip. “Did you think that you could just take him from me? That I wouldn't come for him?”

Miguel’s grip on your wrist loosens as he stumbles back. His heart feels like it’s about to explode as realization dawns on him. The dark curls, the small fangs the baby had bared at him –pieces of a puzzle start falling into place. His own blood runs cold.

“Where is he, Miguel? Where’s myGabriel?” your voice breaks as you say the name, and it feels like another punch to Miguel's gut.

“Gabr...” Miguel chokes. “No... no...”

His voice is barely audible, the air knocked out of him by the significance of the name. His knees buckle, and he falls on the floor. "NO."

“You, who I thought would protect any child, wanted to eliminate my – our – flesh and blood!” Tears, full of anger and hurt, stream down your face, but your voice doesn't waver one bit.

Miguel, still on the floor, looks up at you with tear-streaked cheeks. “I didn’t know. I swear on my life, on Gabriella’s memory. I-I wanted to do the right thing. I- I never, -Lo siento.”

There’s a moment of tense silence as you look down at the shattered man before you,the love of your life, the father of your child, who almost made the most horrifying, unforgivable mistake.

Just then, from another room, the faint sound of a baby's cries pierce through the heavy atmosphere. You abruptly yank your wrist out of his grasp and towards the door to leave.

Your heart clenches as you break into a run, following the pitiful cries. You don’t look back.

Miguel remains on his knees. He doenst follow you, he doesn’t dare to move, anchored by the crushing weight of what he's done, as the sounds of Gabriel's cries fade into the background.

"Gabriel," he whispers, the name escaping his lips like a vow. A promise of redemption. And with that single word, Miguel knows he'll move heaven and earth to protect his child.

Part 4 "Webs of Redemption"

Hello, you wonderful souls! I want to say a big thank you for your patience and kind words about this series. I really appreciate each of your sweet comments and messages – they mean so much to me. Thank you all for the insightful ideas and suggestions you contributed for part 3. I've incorporated as many of your concepts as I could because they're simply brilliant. I'm eager to hear more of your thoughts, criticisms, and proposals for part 4. I also want to give a special thanks to Jess, @wolfjessedragon . Her inspiration and amazing ideas were the driving force behind Part 3, and I couldn't have written it without her! love you guys, keep being awesome!

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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disneyprincemuke · 6 months

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count on us * fem!driver

she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing

notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.

he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.

he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.

in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.

“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.

until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”

“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”

“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”

max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”

“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.

he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.

he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.

not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.

not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.

which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.

he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.

the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”

“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”

“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”

she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”

“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”

she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”

sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”

“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”

he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”

“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.

oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”

sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”

“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”

“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”

“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”

“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”

“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”

“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”

“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”

“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”

“repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”

“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”

“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”

“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”

oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”

“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.

the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.

“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.

“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“

oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”

she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”

logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”

“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”

“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”

“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”

“oh, mine too.”

“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”

the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.

so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”

“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.

“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”

“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.

“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”

“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”

“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”

she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.

oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”

“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”

“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”

“really? what tiktok did i send last?”

“that one edit about that banana cat!”

“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”

“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”

“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”

she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”

“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”

“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”

she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.

“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.

the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?

“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”

“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.

“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”

“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.

they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.

that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.

“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.

max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”

“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”

“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”

she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”

max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”

yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.

“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”

“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.

“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.

he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.

“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”

there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”

yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.

when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”

so he smiles back. “hi.”

and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.

he never actually expected to be the one who find out.

“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”

“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”

she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.

“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”

“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”

“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”

“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”

“i-“

“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”

“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”

tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.

initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.

suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.

her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.

“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”

she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”

she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”

“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.

“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.

“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”

oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”

“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”

she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”

“i know, but-“

“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”

“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.

“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”

“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”

“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”

“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”

“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”

“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”

“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.

he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.

“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”

“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.

“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”

he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”

“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”

“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”

max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”

“like how?”

“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”

“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”

“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.

“oscar-“

logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.

“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.

“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”

“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”

“say bet?”

“bet.”

“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”

“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”

“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”

max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”

“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”

“fine, but-“

“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”

“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”

“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”

“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”

she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”

“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.

“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”

she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”

“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”

“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”

“maybe let’s not go that far.”

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#sebastian vettel x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 fem!drive #fem!driver #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke vr #logan sargeant x reader

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wqnwoos · 11 months

Text

on pick-up lines and cheek kisses

idiots 2 lovers & college!au / requested by @wheeboo / cw cheesy pick up lines. i’m not sorry. i find them hilarious. ft. bestfriend!vernon.

“okay, okay! rate this one,” you giggle, reading it from your phone. “are you a time traveller? because i see you in my future.”

seungkwan groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. “___, whyyy?”

“it’s funny! i like it!” you defend, still laughing.

the two of you are splayed out on the wooden floor of seungkwan and vernon’s apartment. the latter is nowhere to be seen — most likely in his room with his headphones in — but you and your best friend are taking a much needed break from studying: pizza, while he listens — unwillingly — to the many, many pickup lines you offer.

“it’s awful, is what it is,” he retorts. “like, 3 out of 10.”

“not even a 4?”

“3.25. at best.”

you roll onto your side to scowl at him, poking his side. “boooo. you’re miserable.”

seungkwan turns his head and sticks a childish tongue out at you. “no, your pickup lines are just pretty awful.”

“well,” you say, eyes sparkling. “i think you’re just pretty.”

“oh my god, if you don’t stop — ” seungkwan grouses, trying his absolute best to hide the flush creeping up his cheeks. it seems to be his lucky day, because you don’t comment, simply laughing again, before sitting up and checking the time.

“okay, boo, i’m outta here,” you declare, standing up. he wants to whine, pull you back down and ask you to stay, but he knows you won’t. and you’d also never let him live it down.

“text me when you get home, okay?” seungkwan sits up to watch you slip your shoes back on and pile your things together. “and i mean it,” he warns, waving a threatening finger slightly too close to your nose. “don’t go falling asleep on me again.”

“that was one time!” you pause. “okay, twice, but — doesn’t matter! i won’t do it today.” you grab your phone from the table, and then you lean down and peck his cheek. “see you tomorrow, kwan!”

seungkwan is indescribably glad that you’ve turned your back on him — too fast to see the way his cheeks absolutely flame at the feeling of your lips touching his skin. you don’t kiss his cheek often, but whenever you do it, it feels like he is dangerously close to passing out. he can’t decide whether he likes that feeling or not.

he’s still thinking about it when he’s curled up in bed, waiting for your text. he’s still thinking about it when the text finally arrives (didn’t fall asleep!! home safe, thanks for today kwannie. goodnight! 🤍 ), and he’s still thinking about it when he finally drifts off to sleep, one hand grazing the skin your lips brushed.

—

“vernon. vernon. vernonieeee!”

it takes a minute, but vernon finally takes off his headphones and looks at his roommate. “yo.”

“how do you tell if someone’s flirting with you?”

vernon blinks, considers solemnly for a moment. “fuck if i know,” he pronounces finally, and seungkwan rolls his eyes. “why?” vernon questions. “who are we talking about?”

“nobody.” seungkwan’s answer comes slightly too quickly, and his voice is pitched slightly too high.

vernon suddenly pauses, letting out an understanding ahhhh. “is this about ___?”

“what? no! maybe! kind of! okay, yes it is!”

(seungkwan has never been good at hiding things.)

“dude,” vernon says deeply, reaching out to pat his shoulder with sympathy. “you’re late to the party.”

“what party? literally what goes on inside your head?” seungkwan snorts, half embarassed, half baffled.

“you’re just late, man. they’ve been flirting with you, like, forever.”

it takes a moment to process that — several moments, in fact, but by the time seungkwan has recovered from the shock and launched into denial —“you’re lying! there’s no way!” — vernon has already slipped back on his headphones, bopping his head silently to the beat.

—

despite his initial reaction, things are starting to make a lot more sense to seungkwan.

why you help him study, patiently explaining a concept over and over until it makes sense. why you bring him coffee in the mornings and tell him to have a good day. why you always give him a bite of whatever you’re eating.

not to mention your recent obsession with pickup lines.

suddenly it’s obvious, and he feels stupid for not realising it before — maybe because he was too caught up in wallowing in his own feelings. he didn’t even think to check for yours.

he’s still considering this deep emotional turmoil the next time he sees you; he drops over to your apartment one afternoon, partly because you offered cookies, but mostly because he’s finally plucking up the courage to ask you the truth.

“___,” he begins tentatively, as he sits on your couch. you’re scrolling through netflix to find something to watch, but you hum to show you’re still listening. “vernon said something recently, and it had me thinking — ”

“if he’s trying to take my spot as number one best friend, tell him to suck a dick,” you cut in, brows furrowed.

“ha — ha, no — ” seungkwan swallows nervously as you return your gaze to the tv. “haveyoubeenflirtingwithme?”

“i don’t know what language that was.”

seungkwan inhales, slowing his garbled words. “have you been flirting with me?”

“oh. yeah, for about three years now, but thank you for noticing, i guess,” you reply, glancing at him and then away. “hey, what about shrek 2?”

“what?”

“oh. yeah, i guess you can’t go home and face vernon if you watch the second instead of the first.”

“not that!” seungkwan splutters, and you finally look at him. “what the fuck? three years?”

“and counting!” you chirp. “i’m glad you’ve noticed, though. i don’t like keeping secrets.”

“oh my god.”

“yeah. i love you seungkwan, but you’re a bit of an idiot.”

“i am! i am an idiot!” he wails, and you scoot closer with a laugh.

“it’s okay. you’re my favourite idiot,” you reply, patting his cheek. there’s one short moment of silence as the two of you look at each other — until you break it. “so, uh, do you wanna kiss?”

“oh god. absolutely.”

an / i have a horrible feeling that this is BORING. if it is, i’m sorry. it’s past 1 in the morning rn, i have Nothing in my brain.

#seungkwan fluff #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan comfort #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen comfort #seventeen fic #seungkwan fic #seungkwan angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic

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ghoul-slime · 12 days

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Mushy May Day 12&13 - First Time & Just Wanted to Hear Your Voice (Aether/Dew)

Uh oh, starting to fall behind now. Here's my combined entry for days 12 and 13. A million thank yous to @forlorn-crows for putting together Mushy May again this year and to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!

Day 12 & 13: First Time and "Just Wanted to Hear Your Voice" - Aether/Dew, first time phone sex, praise kink, no other warnings, rated E/Mature, 1929 words

It’s late when Aether’s phone starts to buzz. He’s already tucked into bed and ready to turn in for the night when Dew’s picture pops up on the incoming call notification. He picks up before the second ring.

“Hey,” Dew says casually. Aether can’t help but immediately notice the tired edge he hears in the fire ghoul’s voice.

“Hi Dew,” Aether answers, happy to hear from his favorite ghoul despite the late hour of the night. “How are you?”

Dew gives a noncommittal little grunt. “Fine,” he answers. “Bored though. Horny. Nobody around, though…” he trails off.

Aether lets out a laugh. The little ghoul must be lonely. As hard as he’s trying to sound nonchalant about it, Aether knows how much he hates to be alone. That he prefers to spend his nights pressed against one of his packmates. That privilege used to fall on Aether more often than not, at least it did before he stepped away from the band to dedicate himself to helping in the infirmary full-time.

“Who are you rooming with tonight?” Aether asks, genuinely surprised that Dew would ever find himself all alone.

“Nobody. Phantom ditched me to spend the night with Swiss and Rain,” Dew answers with a yawn that he hopes will hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Well that’s new,” Aether answers, sitting up in bed, genuinely intrigued. He's happy that it sounds like the newest ghoul is finding his place in the pack, though he feels bad that Dew seems to be feeling a little left out because of it.

“Not to me it isn’t,” Dew says, sounding more than a little bit annoyed. “They’ve been going at it nonstop for the past week. You should see the three of them trying to cram themselves all into Swiss’ bunk to fuck on the bus.”

Dew is quiet for a minute. Aether can hear the blankets rustle over the phone as he settles into his bed. He can tell he’s turning something over in head, so he gives him time and waits for him to speak again.

“I just wanted to hear your voice, Aeth,” he admits softly. “Lonely out here without you.” Dew lets out a sad little sigh.

The sincerity in Dew’s voice breaks Aether’s heart. He knows that if he were out there with them, he and Dew would probably be curled up together between scratchy hotel sheets, making the most of their night off with lazy kisses and wandering hands. He wishes he could reach through the phone and pull the little ghoul into his warm nest back home, to wrap his arms around him and remind him how loved he is.

"I want to try something," Aether says after a few moments of silence. “You can say no if it’s not something you like, though.”

Dew perks up. “Yeah?” he asks, already interested. “What is it?”

“Will you take your clothes off for me?” Aether asks, a little nervous, but hopeful. “Get undressed and get yourself nice and comfy on the bed. I want to take care of you tonight.”

Dew is silent for a moment, and then Aether hears more rustling, the sound of blankets and pillows moving around as Dew adjusts himself on the hotel bed.

“Already in just my underwear…,” Dew answers quietly. If Aether were there he’s sure he’d see a light blush dusting the little ghoul’s sharp cheekbones. That Dew would insist he isn't embarrassed despite it. They’ve had each other in every way imaginable by now, but this is the first time either of them have ever done anything over the phone. Up until now, they’d never been apart long enough to warrant it.

“Take those off too,” Aether asks. “And put the phone on speaker.”

He listens as Dew shuffles around on the bed, and Aether can just picture the way he lifts those skinny little hips up off the bed to shimmy his underwear off and slide them down his thighs. Distantly, he registers the soft little thud of fabric hitting the floor.

“Dew?” Aether checks in, “You ok with this?” He knows Dew would tell him otherwise, but this is new territory for both of them, so he feels that he has to check in, just in case.

“Mm, yeah,” Dew affirms. “Gettin’ hard already, Aeth. Now what?”

Aether grins to himself. He knew Dew would be game, and he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t something he fantasized about doing the second he found out he wouldn't be going out on tour with the rest of the pack.

“Lie back and get comfy, baby,” Aether purrs. “Get comfy and close your eyes, think of me there with you. I want you to hear my voice and imagine it’s me there. That I’m the one touching you.”

“Can you do that for me, Dew?” Aether asks, voice low and gravelly, imagining just how sweet Dew must look spreading himself out on the sheets out there all by himself, just waiting for Aether’s instructions.

“Yeah,” Dew answers in a breathy voice just above a whisper. “Yeah, I can.”

He must have the phone propped up on the pillow next to his face, because Aether can hear his shallow little breaths loud and clear through the phone receiver. He takes a minute to adjust himself in his sweatpants at the thought.

“Good, now touch yourself for me, baby,” Aether tells him, “Want you to run your palms up your chest nice and slow.” He stops, gives Dew a moment to do as he asked him. “Do it just like I would. How I would stop and feel those sweet little tits in the palms of my hands. Now give a little tug on your pretty jewelry for me, just enough to get your nipples nice and sensitive.”

Aether walks him through it, has Dew wet his fingertips with his tongue and pinch and tug at those sweet little buds, soft at first and then harder. Just like Aether would do if he had his mouth on him. He has Dew play with his chest until he’s panting in his ear over the phone, soft little breaths becoming more urgent as Aether works him up with his voice in place of his hands.

“Good job, love,” Aether praises. “Bet you’re nice and stiff between your legs for me now, aren’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” Dew answers, “‘M hard, Aeth. Getting all wet for you too. Want you to touch it. Please.”

“Lemme touch it, then, sweet boy. Lemme see how wet you’re getting for me,” Aether answers. “Spit in your hand, Dew, get it nice and wet for me. Just the way I would do it.

The wet sound of Dew spitting into the palm of his hand has Aether growling and tugging his sweats down to pull his cock out. When he hears the sound of Dew slicking himself up, he wraps a hand around the base of himself and squeezes.

“Good,” he praises, breathing hot into the phone. “Is it dripping now?”

Dew answers with a weak little uh huh, as he slicks himself up with a palm full of spit, mixing in with the pre his cock is undoubtedly dribbling out at the sound of Aether’s voice.

He has Dew jack himself off for him, reveling in the wet sounds of Dew’s hand working sensitive flesh. In the sweet little sighs and purrs as Dew imagines Aether’s big fist wrapped around him instead. When Dew whispers that he’s close, Aether tells him to stop, hands off, and the choked little whimper he hears lets him know that Dew’s done exactly as he’s been asked.

“Doing so good for me, baby,” Aether tells him, breath shallow as he starts to stroke himself. “Two fingers in your mouth for me now. Get ‘em nice and wet.”

Aether hears Dew suck two fingers into his mouth, hears the wet little sounds of him lapping at the digits. How he can tell Dew pushes his fingers all the way to the back of his throat, just far enough that he struggles not to gag, before pulling them out and waiting for Aether’s next instruction.

“Spread your legs now, nice and wide,” Aether instructs. “Touch yourself down there, just like I would. Start slow for me and feel yourself open up when you put ‘em inside.

Dew goes silent as he does what Aether asks, running his wet digits around the rim of his already wet little hole. He feels what Aether would feel if it were him fingering him open. Feels the way he stretches so easily as he pushes inside, how easily he takes two fingers.

“Got two fingers inside now, Aeth,” Dew whispers. “Oh, it feels nice. Feels like when you do it.”

Aether has Dew finger himself like that. Tells him to feel how hot he is inside, how soft. Tells him to feel the way his rim flutters around his fingers when he pushes in deep and crooks his fingertips just right.

“Can you get three inside for me now?” Aether asks after a while. “Gotta get you nice and stretched out for my cock, my love.”

“Y-yeah,” Dew answers, breathless and sweet as he pushes three fingers inside himself just like Aether asked. “Want your cock in me, Aether.” Dew sighs at the stretch, feeling full the way he would if it were Aether’s cock breaching him instead.

“Hold the phone between your legs for me, baby? I wanna hear how wet you are.”

There’s a moment of shuffling, the sharp scratch of the speaker dragging across the pillow fabric, and then Aether can hear it. The slick, rhythmic sound of Dew fucking his fingers in and out of his wet little hole. It’s completely filthy, the obscene, unmistakable sound of sex, and to Aether, it’s the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his life.

He groans, jacks his cock faster, working to match the rhythm of Dew’s fingers. If he closes his eyes he can picture it perfectly. Dew laid out in front of him, legs spread wide as Aether stuffs his tight little hole with his cock, fucking him deep and perfect until they’re both shaking with it.

A high-pitched moan from Dew breaks Aether from his vision.

“G-gonna cum, Aether,” Dew warns. “Gonna cum on your cock like this. Oh, wanna cum with you inside me, Aether,” Dew babbles, fucks himself faster, pressing in so deep with his fingers that Aether can hear his rhythm falter as he works himself closer to the edge.

Aether’s not far behind as he jacks himself faster, the slick sound of Dew’s fingers and his breathy little moans and cries working together to send him over the edge. He cums with a shout, just as he hears Dew give one final guttural ohhhh, as he clamps down on his fingers and shoots his load.

They come down together, panting into their phones as they catch their breath.

After a few moments of silence, Dew speaks up.

“Well that was fucking hot,” he snorts. “Got this bed all wet though, good thing Phantom isn’t coming back after all.”

Before they hang up, Aether tells Dew how much he loves him, that he’s counting down the minutes until he gets the little fire ghoul into his bed for real again.

Dew says goodnight, tells Aether that he loves him back, sounding happy and spent and breathless - the tired, sad tinge to his voice chased away for the night as he falls asleep with a smile on his lips.

#mushy may 2024 #dewther #aether/dew #aether/dewdrop #aether x dewdrop #aether x dew #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #ghost band fanfic #ghoul-slime fic #ghoul-slime mushy may 2024

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kysuguru · 10 months

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i love the last rin or shin? its so quirky and cute like satoru is absolutely so spoiled and reader does it without realizing she spoils him sooo bad😖hes so baby and a big head. he will throw a tantrum if her attention isnt on him for a sec!

but what if satoru founds out reader’s first crush was nanami? or suguru? i wanna see him throw a big fat tantrum LOL hes going to wail that reader doesnt love him and bullies whoever reader used to like and try to act like that person. or give reader the silent treatment which confuses her ?? maybe shoko accidentally puts out that reader and nanami or suguru went on one date and that puts satoru in the worst mood the entire week. yes WEEK.

ok so that one shot is from a series where both gojo AND geto are love interests, so i don’t think gojo would mind when it came to geto and the reader. but NANAMI? ohhh he’s such a big baby.

“okay!” satoru slams a hand down on your conjoined desks, startling everybody. you jolt a bit in your seat, your widened eyes trailing up and catching sight of his mischievous face.

“what is it now?” shoko drones, closing her book.

satoru sits down next to suguru, making sure to squeeze against him obnoxiously close before he’s opening his mouth with a big grin, “it’s time to talk crushes! [name]! go!!!!”

with the quickness of his finger as he points it at you and how he has no hesitancy with saying your name, both shoko and suguru knew the entire purpose of this sudden interrogation.

satoru was nosey. and a jealous bastard.

and even though suguru makes a face, he’s curious, too.

you stammer, suddenly put under the spotlight, “c-crush? me? what’s this about all of a sudden?”

“it’s not only you! everyone will say someone they’ve had a crush on! you just happen to be first,” satoru is excited, leaning in as he awaits your answer. as if he’s expecting what it’ll be.

that makes you sweat. but with the promise of everyone doing the same thing, you were more prepared to go. besides, you were kind of curious as to who were the lucky people shoko and suguru crushed on.

you fiddle with your fingers as your lips part, “well uhm,” satoru leans forward in his seat, eager. your eyes meet his for a split second. “i used to kind of have a thing for.. for kento-kun..”

…

nobody speaks for awhile. suguru and satoru’s faces contort. shoko looks close to laughing.

“i.. i didn’t know you- you liked the brooding type.” shoko takes a small breath in between as she tries to the best of her abilities not to laugh in the boys’ faces. she’s lying, with your obvious crush on suguru, she knew very well.

“it was only for like a week, i swear!!” you wave your hands in front of your face frantically, embarrassed and regretful of even answering in the first place. why did you have to set the example?

satoru has been oddly silent, you notice. which is odd because he looked so excited earlier.

you look to him and see him sporting the biggest pout. your jaw drops.

“s-satoru?!”

he turns away from you dramatically, not gracing you with an answer.

suguru’s smiling now, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and his lips are tight. you wonder what you did wrong..

shoko succumbs and snickers into her elbow.

“do you still like him?” suguru’s voice is strained, as he tries to keep up his norma demeanor.

you shake your head instantly in denial, “no! no! like i said it was just for a week! we’re just friends now..”

and even though you clarified that, and watched as a subtle relief overtook suguru’s expression. satoru was still silent.

even after you all went to your respective rooms for the night. the next day during class, and even when you all gathered your desks together again to talk about whatever whenever.

you loved satoru’s presence, it’s only been a day of him ignoring you yet your hurt was in so much pain you’d think he’d broken up with you.

suddenly, after walking shoko and suguru to their rooms, bidding them a good night, satoru latches onto you.

you’re shocked, initially, but it doesn’t take long for you to reciprocate the embrace, and satoru revels in that.

“don’t do this with nanami, okay?”

“w-why would i do this with him?”

“it doesn’t matter, just don’t do it.”

“will you stop ignoring me if i do?” what a dangerous proposal.

“of course!” he’s beaming at you again. you missed him.

of course, a hug with nanami sounds divine, but why jeopardize your special friendship with satoru over something that might never happen?

you melt in his arms and sigh with content. satoru is smug as he tightens his grip, cursing the first year in his head who probably wouldn’t even care if the entire ordeal was brought to his attention.

satoru gojo has been a spoilt brat since birth, he wasn’t sure how he would fare in school, but he’s ecstatic to say your bias towards him is worth more than any expensive object the gojo clan could provide him.

gojo is a little SHIT. and i’m sure he would still be a baby abt it in his adult years, but i also feel he would handle it just a liiiiitle bit better. anyways air head reader who enables him simply because she loves him and will do anything to keep him around. trying to write her to fit tohru and sawako because i heart them.

also thx for this ask i love detailed asks like these ur the best ever anon <333333

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

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pinky-mouse · 4 days

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The Sorrow of The Blue (Prt. 2)

Note: Sorry if this is very erratic looking. (T-T)

“You can’t just—just abduct random people!” Pearl squawked, her hands grasping at her hair as if she were ready to rip it out. Knowing her, she probably was.

“I didn’t abduct anyone,” You reply, a little taken aback by everyone’s reaction. Your face becomes crestfallen as you look around you. “I just wanted the human to meet you all. He was so wonderful to me, I thought that I should share his wisdom with you all.”

Before Pearl could get another incoherent stammer out, the door to the house swung open.

“Blue!” Greg frantically rushes out of his coastal home, his son Steven following behind him.

You smile again, looking hopeful as you bend down to look at him at a more suitable level. “Hello again, Greg. It’s been a while.”

“Hi to you too,” He nods, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead as he looks at the older man next to your form. “Blue, you can’t just take whoever you please.”

“I didn’t take him, he came willingly.” You replied softly, your eyebrows turning upward with disappointment again. “He didn’t protest at all. And he reminded me so much of you, I thought you two should become acquainted.”

Everyone around you, minus Steven and the older gentleman who you had not taken the time to know the name of sighed and shook their head.

“What’s the matter?” You ask wearily. You felt so isolated and alone all of a sudden. You’ve done something wrong again, haven’t you?

The lump in your throat returned, and you couldn’t swallow it down. Your droopy eyes began to dampen, and unbeknownst to you, the environment around began to envelop in the blue embrace of your persistent despair and hurt.

“I’m sorry,” You murmur, large tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, please don’t look at me like that…”

No matter how many times you’ve (accidentally) affected the gems with your sorrowful energy, they’ve never gotten used to it. It was like an anchor, weighing them down to the furthest depths of the dark and cold ocean.

And that was just a crumb of your pain. Even though your ability was so strong, you still bore the brunt of it all. Nobody could understand— fathom your agony.

Except Steven. “It’s okay,” He said quietly to you, snapping you out of your daze. His hand, which was so small in comparison to your giantess figure, pressed against your cloak. “you’re going to be okay, Blue. Just tell us what happened.”

You wiped your eyes, your lips parted slightly in awe at how quickly the boy took you out of that pit of self deprecation. He was so much like Pink. You almost shed a few more tears before you shook your head.

No, answer the question. You told yourself. Stop crying, that’s enough. You’ve done enough harm already.

“I was traveling through the human cities. And I found myself in a dark little place called Gotham City.” You say slowly, as if you can’t remember what you’ve done or have been to.

“I felt so…so helpless there. There’s so much suffering there, and I couldn’t bear to witness it anymore. So I found somewhere quiet to rest.” You look for the man you had taken with you from New Jersey all the way to Beach City, a place near Ocean City, Maryland.

You don’t seem him anywhere.

“Where is the human?” You question, your eyebrow raising as you look around him. Just as you had gone from bashful to distraught, your attitude was quickly souring. “Where has he gone off to?”

Greg was missing as well.

Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and Steven watched you get yourself worked up silently.

Your fists clenched at your sides. “Why will none of you answer me? Where is the human?”

“He’s with my dad, inside.” Steven speaks up, his hand never leaving the fabric of your garments. “Don’t worry, he’s just helping Alfred get back to his family.”

“Family?” You repeat, your own hands loosening. “Alfred, his name is Alfred. How peculiar. You humans have the strangest names.”

“Uh, sorry?” The fourteen year old apologizes sheepishly, not sure what else he could say.

Garnet shifts, her hand going up to adjust her silver shades. “You,” She begins in her cool tone. “took the butler of Bruce Wayne.”

Everyone goes silent, the only things being heard was the sounds of the waves softly crashing against the shore and the seagulls flying overhead.

“WHAT!?” Pearl wails as Amethyst snorts. “YOU KIDNAPPED A BUTLER!?”

Even Steven gasps. “The billionaire?”

“What, what’s happening?” You ask. Is there supposed to be some significance to this? You don’t get it. “Bruce Wayne? Who is that?”

“An elite, very powerful businessman.” Pearl breathes, she looks as if she’s going to faint.

Amethyst chimes in. “Yeah, we’re probably going to get into a lot of trouble when he gets here.”

Despite everything that’s happened with Steven and the Crystal Gems, a majority of people outside the city didn’t know they existed. At all. So you kidnapping the servant of a prestigious human man was going to blow everyone’s cover.

“I’m sorry,” You sigh, running a hand down your arm. You didn’t have the energy to cry. Or do anything else, really. “I’m very sorry, everyone.”

“We-we’ll figure something out, don’t worry!” Steven says encouragingly. You almost smile, had it not been for the way he immediately turned to the others with a look of worry.

Of course he was looking at you like that. Like you were pitiful. You were.

You needed to leave, you’ve done more harm than good at this point.

As you went around to the back of the house, you shrunk your form so that you were no longer as large and problematic as you had once been.

You had no clue how long you had been sitting on that large rock, letting the ocean water splash against the hem of your clothings. You still didn’t crying you refused to.

You held your head in your hands, a headache worming its way into your body. Whispers etched themselves into your mind, and your chest tightened.

The only thing that brought you back to the real world was the yelling coming from Steven, and as you lifted your head, you heard his words more clearly.

The boy was running to you, his hand outstretched and a look of fear on his face as he cried, “No! Don’t!”

‘Don’t, what?’ You wanted to ask, but before you could get the words out, before you could turn your head to see who he was pleading to, you felt a piercing stab in your stomach.

You looked down, mouth agape as you saw the sharp blade sticking out of you. Just you blinked, your mind catching up with your eyes, you went *(Poof!)*

And your gem splashed into the icy waters of the ocean.

#dc universe #steven universe #blue diamond #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #nightwing #dc robin #red robin #red hood #batman #batfam #crystal gems #steven universe crossover

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arachine · 2 years

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+ note: just a little concept that i wanna write a full-fledged piece for. if this gets any positive traction, then i’ll definitely be writing it soon (the idea was for eddie but now ‘m thinking about steve! >.<)

+ warnings: hybrid! reader

okay…but what if one of the things that came out of the gate from the upside down was kitty! reader? essentially, nobody really knows where she came from, all they know is that she’s seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and that she looks like a harmless little thing.

the gang are the first to find her, and they eventually take her in after one too many instances in which she’s clandestinely followed them home. the skeptics of the group are lucas and el: lucas, who thinks she’s gotta personal vendetta against him (he claims she ‘looks at him wrong’), and el, who just senses that there’s something not quite…right.

obviously, mike being mike, immediately shuts their conspiracies down but it isn’t until one day when they’re all hanging out in his basement when she just…appears. it’s like a little blip, and then there she is, in all her human glory—except, she has ears, and a tail, and…she’s naked. of course everyone loses their shit because, jesus, they’d been doting on her this entire time! petting her, sharing secrets, cuddling with her—washing her.

mike, lucas, and dustin are just in complete and utter shock, but max and eleven are the first to act quick and get her into the basement’s bathroom.

“mike, stop staring! clothes, now!” max screams before consecutively smacking each of them in the back of their heads.

when she’s all covered up and everyone’s settled down, they start asking questions. but to their disappointment, she’s just barely able to verbalize or communicate anything of significance. she can say small phrases like: ‘i love you’ , ‘hi’ , ‘good’ and ‘bad’—mostly because that’s what’s been repeated to her in her kitty form—but it’s not enough to answer their ever-growing questions.

a few days pass, and then a few weeks, months, and then two whole years. by then, they’ve grown accustomed to her human form, and they even learned how to keep her a secret (aside from finally introducing her to the older crew). the six of them would intermittently take turns hiding reader at their houses, and each and every rotation was different.

in the beginning, during mike’s rotation, he focused on improving her speech. first, it was the abc’s. then it was a few words, phrases, some flashcards here and there—and then it was children’s books, and poems and writing her name. after a while she’d become fully proficient in the english language and all it’s craziness.

everyone equally put just as much effort into teaching her, though. max and eleven loved to dress her up and paint her nails, dustin taught her (well, attempted to) math—but she didn’t quite enjoy it—lucas introduced her to music, and will always played with her in her kitty form.

life as a kitty was perfect, content. she’d been introduced to, kissed on, hugged on, and cuddled by just about everyone and anyone who was of any importance to the group.

she’d already known and grown used to steve, robin, nancy and jonathan…but there was still somebody she hadn’t met yet—somebody whose name she had become quite familiar with, despite not ever seeing them.

“ah, so you must be…wait, don’t tell me,” the long haired boy presses his lips together, “—the little kitty i’ve been hearing so much about.” he watches with amusement as the hybrid cowers behind mike, her ears shooting up animatedly.

“why so shy? i don’t bite…i mean unless you want me t–“ robin smacks his arm, “don’t be weird,” she scoffs, “yeah, don’t be weird,” steve rolls his eyes playfully.

the kitten studies him, creeps out real slow and circles him as if he were prey. he’s silent, and trying so very hard to hold his breath. he thinks that if he breathes—makes so much as a single move, she’ll become disinterested in him. so, he stands there, waiting. face locked but eyes trained, following all over her movements.

when she suddenly appears right next to his face, he thinks he’s done for. but to his surprise, he’s greeted with something wet and warm. she’d licked him. laid a log stripe of saliva smack dab on the center of his cheek. everyone gasps in horror, their eyes scanning eddie’s face for any signs of disgust or discomfort. but there are no signs, just a very shocked, very stunned, blushing eddie.

“s-she hasn’t done that in ages, i don’t know why she did that—why did you do that?” mike tries to pull her away but she swats him to the side with the force of her tail.

her face is still centimeters away from his, but now she stands directly in front of him. if he moved any closer, the tips of their noses would meet.

“hi, eddie,” she beams, a faint purr following suit.

“hi, (name),” he stutters. this is when he realizes something: that he’d be wholly, utterly, and everlastingly, wrapped around her finger.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x y/n fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x reader fluff #concepts

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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months

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Scooby-sidious

Sunday, October 29, 2023

Fic-tober Masterlist

Summary: You and Dalton watch Scooby-Doo and find yourselves in the episode, offering to help solve the mystery.

Warnings: spoilers for Scooby-Doo, Where are You? episode "Spooky Space Kook" (1x15), fluff, slight jealousy, brief mentions of the events of The Red Door (2023). 2.6k+ words

A/N: This is inspired by my love of Scooby-Doo, and the Supernatural crossover episode "Scoobynatural" (13x16)! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! Happy Halloweekend! :)

You’ve been begging Dalton to watch Scooby-Doo with you for weeks. It’s a Halloween must, but he keeps telling you he’ll do it later.

“It’s Scoob-tober, Dalton!” you exclaim as you collapse onto the bed.

He stares at you before shaking his head and dropping his shoulders. “Fine. Which episode are we watching?” he asks as he sits beside you, tossing an arm over your shoulders.

You squeal excitedly and grab the remote before leaning against his chest and answering, “Spooky Space Kook, A Night of Fright is No Delight, or Mine Your Own Business. Those episodes have the best villains, but you have to pick.”

Dalton looks down at you with furrowed brows as he asks, “Umm, Space Kook?”

“Excellent choice,” you say, nodding as you find the episode and press play.

As you settle into Dalton’s side, your head resting above his heart, he’s glad you convinced him. Even if he watches you instead of Scooby-Doo.

Just after the Space Kook lands the first time, red sparks light across the screen.

You lean forward as Dalton says, “Please tell me you see those too.”

Before you can answer, the TV turns off, and you fall to the ground.

➣➣➣➣➣

You hit the ground with a painful thud and turn to check on Dalton, shocked to see him in cartoon form before a cartoon background.

“Dalton, you’re a cartoon,” you say nervously, standing and wiping the dirt from your pants.

“You’re a cartoon,” Dalton parrots as he points at you.

“What just happened?”

“We were watching the show and then those sparks showed up,” Dalton answers.

“The red sparks. Do you think this is a Further thing?”

“No, we closed the door.”

A car sputters somewhere behind you, and you stop speaking, turning to follow Dalton’s hand as he points to a farmhouse in the distance.

You gasp as you see the source of the sputtering noise, hitting Dalton’s shoulder as you squeal, “That’s the Mystery Machine! We’re not just cartoons, we’re in Scooby-Doo!”

➣➣➣➣➣

You and Dalton approach the farmhouse from the same direction as Mystery Inc., listening to their conversation as you wait beside a tree, invisible to Scooby and the gang.

“Like, nobody home,” Shaggy says after their knock goes unanswered.

You point to the side of the porch just before the farmer appears with a shotgun and bellows, “Get off of my property! I’m sick of you reporters pestering me night and day! Now, get!”

Dalton pushes you slightly behind him as you watch the ordeal from the yard.

“Reporters? We’re not reporters,” Fred responds.

“No, uh-huh,” Scooby agrees.

“We just want to buy some gasoline,” Daphne says.

“Gas, huh? I don’t believe you. Now, get on out of here, the lot of you!” the farmer yells. “You two in the yard, too!”

Dalton steps back, pushing you with him. Your eyes are still on the gang as Fred glances over to see who the farmer is talking to. His eyes catch yours, and he smiles before turning to the farmer as Velma speaks.

“Excuse me, sir, but why would reporters want to bother you?” she asks.

“They’ve been running me ragged ever since it showed up.”

“It? What’s it?” Fred adds.

“A ghostly craft from another world moving across the sky like an evil spirit.”

Dalton tenses, and you raise your hand to press between his shoulder blades. It’s your silent way of reminding him that you’re with him and he’s not alone.

“Evil spirit?” Scooby repeats before swallowing harshly.

“You mean, like a haunted flying saucer?” Daphne questions.

“Right, but that’s not all. Something’s been creeping ‘round here ever since it showed up.”

“Then it must’ve just crept by,” Velma announces, “Look over there!”

She points to the footprints, which go right behind you and Dalton. Dalton looks at the tracks and then back to you.

“We need to get out of here,” Dalton whispers harshly.

“Footprints,” Fred says.

“Zoinks!” Shaggy exclaims.

Your eyes widen, and you tap Dalton’s back excitedly at the firsthand experience of hearing Shaggy say, ‘Zoinks.’

“I’ve never seen footprints like those before,” Daphne says.

“Neither have I,” Dalton agrees.

“They’re boots dipped in phosphorous,” you tell him.

Dalton turns to look at you with raised brows, and you shrug and say, “What? I love this episode.”

“I see ‘em all the time,” the farmer informs.

“They sure are strange-shaped tracks,” Velma says, leaning over to inspect them.

“Let’s us make tracks the other way,” Shaggy implores.

“He gets it; let’s listen to Shaggy,” Dalton mutters to himself.

“I’m with you!” Scooby agrees.

“Hold it!” Fred demands as the footprints fade. “They’re gone!”

“Hmm,” Velma begins, “Ghostly flying objects, strange tracks that glow in the dark…”

“And something creepy creeping around in the night,” Daphne finishes.

Dalton cocks his head as he watches Scooby get his tail bitten by a chicken before jumping toward Shaggy. Scooby overshoots his goal and lands in Dalton’s arm as he exclaims, “He rot me! He rot me! Oh, help, he rot me!”

Shaggy walks over to Scooby and Dalton, and he says, “Aw, you big chicken. It was only a chicken. Get down.”

Shaggy pushes Scooby from Dalton’s arms, and Dalton sighs with relief. Scooby chuckles as he hits the ground, and you kneel to pat his head as you listen to Fred.

“Well, those footprints weren’t made by a chicken. It looks like we’ve found ourselves a mystery,” he announces.

“Um, excuse me,” you call as you stand, laying your hand on Scooby’s head. “I’m a huge fan of Mystery Inc., and this is Dalton. We have some experiences with creatures like this. Any chance we could help solve this one?”

“Sure!” Fred agrees. “Sounds swell.”

You silently cheer and stick your hand into your pocket, surprised to see a Scooby Snack in your hand when you pull it out.

“Scooby,” you whisper, passing it to him as you and Dalton walk to the Mystery Machine.

“Mmm, rank rou,” Scooby says as he licks his lips.

Fred says your name, and when you look up, he smiles and asks, “Want to sit in the front with me?”

Dalton’s jaw clenches beside you as he waits for you to answer.

“I can sit in the back with Dalton and Scooby,” you respond. “But thanks!”

➣➣➣➣➣

“Sure was nice of the farmer to give us some gas,” Daphne says as Fred drives down the road.

“Yeah, now we can go look for that ghost craft,” Fred agrees before a high-pitched pulsing cuts him off.

“Well, we don’t have to look any further. There it is,” Velma points out.

“Zoinks! What a creepy-looking crate,” Shaggy yells.

“We’re in luck. It landed behind that hill,” Fred says, turning to follow it.

“Yeah, we’re in luck, and, like, it’s all bad,” Shaggy adds.

Dalton looks at you over Scooby’s head and nods his agreement.

➣➣➣➣➣

“It looked like it landed somewhere around here,” Velma says as everyone exits the van.

“What is this place, anyway?” Daphne asks.

“Looks like an abandoned airfield. Hasn’t been used in years,” Dalton answers.

Fred agrees with Dalton before smiling at you, causing Dalton to step closer to you.

“I’m for abandoning it, too. It’s, like, got the creeps!” Shaggy adds.

“Uh-oh!” Daphne calls. “Do you guys see what I see?”

“It’s those spooky glowing tracks again,” Shaggy says.

“Oh, no!” Scooby exclaims, jumping behind Shaggy’s legs.

“It’s our first clue, let’s follow them,” Fred says before walking alongside the footprints.

“Let’s don’t and say we did,” Shaggy suggests.

“But the gate’s locked. How will we get in?” Daphne points out.

The gate opens on its own, and Dalton turns to roll his eyes at you before flinching and smiling when you elbow him in the ribs.

“This is awesome,” you whisper as you step closer to him when Scooby jumps between you and Shaggy.

“Ghosts!” Scooby yells.

“You mean wind. The gate wasn’t locked. Come on!” Fred says.

➣➣➣➣➣

Fred calls you over and asks you to help him follow the tracks. Dalton stays right beside you as everyone heads toward a shed. The prints vanish into the shed, and Scooby jumps up to look in the window, surprised to see himself.

“What’s in there?” someone asks.

“Scooby!” Scooby answers.

Fred steps closer to you as you look into the window beside Scooby.

“It’s his reflection,” you say as you stand up.

“Window’s dirty,” Scooby adds.

As you step away from the window, you hear a humming sound from the other side of the door. Daphne asks what the sound is, and Fred expresses his confusion about how to get inside.

“May I?” Dalton asks before kicking the door and opening it.

“Wow!” Daphne expresses, grabbing Dalton’s bicep as she walks by, “You’re so strong, Dalton!”

Dalton looks at you, and you smile before asking, “We’re even?”

“Not even close,” he whispers as you walk in front of him.

You stop when you reach the generator, and Dalton’s hands land on your waist as he waits behind you.

“It’s the generator,” you announce, pointing to the device.

“Why would an abandoned airfield need a generator?” Daphne asks.

“And, like, why is it on?” Shaggy adds.

You turn your head at a strange sound and see the spaceship land in the field. Dalton turns to and alerts the gang.

“Let’s split up, gang, and find this space creature!” Fred commands. He invites you to come with him and Velma, but Dalton’s hand on your lower back feels like a better invitation.

“I think Dalton and I should go alone, we can cover more ground that way,” you suggest.

Fred agrees, and everyone goes their separate ways to find the Space Kook.

➣➣➣➣➣

“Do you know what’s happening right now?” you ask Dalton as you walk toward the radio tower.

“Fred is developing more of a crush on you?” Dalton suggests.

You bump your shoulder against him and laugh. “No, Fred just got stuck in a hoist, Scooby and Shaggy got caught up in sheets and think the other is a ghost.”

“You really do love this show.”

“Yeah. We do you think I tried so hard to get you to watch it with me?”

Dalton stops, wrapping his fingers around your wrist to make you stop.

“I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t want to watch it with you. I- just- I was trying not to spend time with you because I didn’t want to have to walk away if you didn’t feel the same way.”

You twist your hand to hold Dalton’s and step closer as you brush some of his hair out of his eyes.

“I do feel the same way, if it’s the way that makes you want to spend time with me.”

Dalton raises his hand to your neck, pulling you against his chest and tilting your chin toward his.

“I really want to kiss you,” he whispers.

“While I’m a cartoon?”

“You’re a very pretty cartoon.”

You shake your head and hear Scooby yell. Smiling at Dalton, you keep your hand in his and gesture with your head to where the gang is meeting.

“You still missed the entire episode,” you point out as you turn the last corner and see Scooby and Mystery Inc.

“We can watch it as many times as you want when we get back,” Dalton says.

“Will you actually watch it or just try to kiss me?”

Dalton simply looks at you as you join the group. Mystery Inc. expresses that no one found any clues.

“It seems to me that this ghost is using this airfield for something else besides haunting,” Velma says.

“Gas,” Scooby announces, pointing to the exhaust pipe of an old Jeep with flat tires.

Dalton looks under the car with Fred, telling the girls about the extra set of usable wheels. As they stand, the car drives away, and an entire army of Space Kooks appears. Scooby and Shaggy retreat to the radio tower as Fred, Velma, and Daphne run the other way.

Shaggy uses the radio speakers to call the gang to the tower, expressing that he found something, but you remain still.

“Should we go?” Dalton asks.

You shake your head and answer, “Space Kook beats them there and Shag and Scoob parachute down. We’ll wait for the sheriff.”

Dalton wraps an arm around your shoulders, content to wait with you. When Scooby returns, you give him more Scooby Snacks and kneel to pet him.

“How did you know to come, Sheriff?” Velma asks.

“I called. I saw your van was still here and got worried,” the farmer answers as he approaches.

Space Kook appears behind you, and when he sees the sheriff, he runs into a building labeled ‘Research Lab.’ Fred is waiting by a panel and presses a button after Space Kook runs by, turning on the wind tunnel. As the wind picks up, the helmet comes off, and the phosphorous on his boots illuminates.

“Well, I don’t believe it,” the farmer exclaims. “It’s Henry Bascomb, my next door neighbor.”

“But what about those weird noises and the flying thing?” Daphne asks.

“C’mon, I’ll show you!” Shaggy announces before leading them to the radio tower.

“It was a very clever plan. Here’s our ghost craft,” Fred says before turning on a projector.

“But what about those odd voices?” Daphne asks.

“It was just a speeded-up soundtrack…” Fred begins.

“Played over the loudspeaker,” Shaggy finishes.

“But we did see a whole bunch of those creepies over by the motor pool,” Daphne points out.

“Stuffed dummies, if I had to bet,” Dalton suggests.

“And I’d bet that crazy jeep was run by remote control!” Shaggy agrees.

“The last remaining puzzle in my mind is ‘why?’” Fred says.

“I can answer that. This Bascomb fella got wind that the Air Force was planning to open the field again and would be needing more land for jets,” the sheriff explains.

“Aha! So that’s it! He wanted to scare us off so he could pick up the land cheap,” the farmer concludes.

“And I’d have done it, too, if you kids hadn’t come along,” Bascomb yells.

“Weren’t you kids scared like the rest of us?” the farmer asks.

“Oh, no. Solving mysteries is our hobby. It takes a lot to scare us,” Shaggy answers.

Fred turns on the Space Kook laugh soundtrack, causing Scooby to jump into Shaggy’s arms and Shaggy to jump into Dalton’s.

➣➣➣➣➣

“So, where are you going now? We’re on the hunt for another mystery if you’d like to come,” Fred offers as Daphne talks to Dalton.

You look at Dalton and smile. “We have to get home. Thank you so much, Fred, this was a dream come true. Working with you was everything I dreamed of.”

“No problem,” he says, hugging you. “It would be an honor to have you back sometime.”

You smile, and he climbs into the Mystery Machine, followed by Velma and Daphne, who wave at you while Dalton returns to your side. Scooby stops before you, and you kneel, petting him as you feed him Scooby Snacks.

“Can I have a hug, Scooby?” you ask, smiling as he indulges you and lets you hug him.

“Like, thanks for everything,” Shaggy says before opening the door for Scooby. “See ya around!”

You watch the Mystery Machine drive away and turn back to Dalton. He pulls you into a hug and brushes his hand over your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his chest.

“Of course. Now let’s get home so I can kiss real you.”

“Scooby Dooby Doooooo,” you howl.

When your voice fades, you look expectantly at Dalton. He sighs before copying you, and everything fades to black.

➣➣➣➣➣

You open your eyes and find yourself on the couch, wrapped in Dalton’s arms again.

“Start the episode over,” Dalton says, slipping his hands onto your cheeks.

“We’re not going to watch it, are we?” you ask as you press play again.

“Does Scooby-Doo like Scooby Snacks?” Dalton responds, smiling against your lips as he kisses you.

#fluentmoviequoterfictober23 #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert #insidious #insidious the red door #fem!reader #scooby doo #scooby gang #scooby crossover

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kalorphic · 2 years

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Can i ask for ROs reaction to MC being used? Like domestical things like someone keeps making MC do their job or getting coffee. And just in case u didnt get the amount of support u need, i think ur amazing: ur characters are all well written, ur twine story format is eye-catching, your gentle way with answering questions is appreciated and your complexion is beautiful ♡♡♡

I know this ask is old, but thank you so much for your compliments, lovely 🥹🤍 I can’t claim credit for the UI though, that’s all on the incredible @/outoftheblue-if !!

K: would have been informed by their minions in your department about this person. Luckily they’re at HQ, so they can get to you quickly. Fury sparks in their chest when they see you happily getting your user colleague a coffee. K practically prowls across the room, minions frantically throwing themselves out of the way, and makes eye contact with the bastard, who goes so pale, they might as well be dead. Good, thinks K, nobody messes with what’s mine. “You know who I am?” A nod. “You know who they are to me?” Another nod. K grins, all teeth. “Then you must be one stupid bastard.”

A: frowns at the sight before them. You’re giving a person a slightly strained smile as they dump another pile of folders, clearly their own work, on your desk. A is about to go over there and politely ask that the person do their own work in future, when said person snaps their fingers in your face and laughs as you flinch. It makes A’s hackles rise, and they’re by your side in seconds, shoving the folders back into the person’s hands with too bright eyes, a vicious smile, and enough force to make them stumble a few steps back. “Try that again, and I promise that you’ll regret it.”

Reese: feels their hands clench into fists as the anger wraps it’s way around them like an old friend. They’re usually so good at controlling their temper, but watching this person take advantage of you really ticks Reese off. Fortunately for your colleague, you catch sight of them and smile, allowing Reese to take a deep breath and force the tension from their body, returning the smile. Ahh, how whipped they were. Now calmer, Reese makes their way over to your user, and leans right down next to their ear. You don’t hear what Reese says, but the person goes an off green colour, frantically nodding their head. Your partner then turns back to you with a bright grin and a request to join them for lunch.

Luisa: raises her eyebrow at you running around for your lazy sack of shit colleague. She always knew that your good-nature would end up getting you into trouble, but lucky for you, your girlfriend wasn’t in a particularly forgiving mood today. She makes her way over to the person who thought they could use you, and grabs the back of their shirt, yanking them up to their feet and letting her smirk grow just shy of feral at the high-pitched squeal they let out. How pathetic, she thinks. “I think it’s time for the little piggy to do their own work, no?”

Cody: has had enough, they’ve born witness to this person taking advantage of your kindness stupidity too many times. They hoped that you would eventually tell them to back off, but it’s day six and you’re still acting like their servant. The next time it happens, Cody spins around on their chair, sneers at your user, and says very loudly: “are you so utterly incapable of doing your work that you have to fob it off onto other people? You might as well just quit at this point and save yourself from further embarrassment.” The person flushes red, and Cody laughs and then adds, much quieter: “apart from MC, I’m the best this place has got, keep pissing me off and I’ll ruin you.”

Noah: let’s their instincts take over when they see you being taken advantage of. It makes their blood boil. Noah comes up behind your colleague, completely silent, and leans down into their space, making the person jump. They start to snap something before they realise just who has snuck up on them. Noah grins at the fear in their eyes and the useless attempts to speak. “How sweet, such a scared little mouse.” Noah can’t help but laugh as the person whimpers. “You’re not even worth my time, so you’re certainly not worth MC’s. However, I’m in a good mood, so I’ll give you a piece of advice…if you want to live a long life, you’ll do your own work from now on.”

#ask #lol I’m so rusty with character asks #all ros #ro: k #ro: a #ro: reese #ro: luisa #ro: cody #ro: noah #cw threats #cw swearing #what’s this?#kalorphic answered an actual ask?#is the world ending?

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luxaofhesperides · 2 years

Text

our passage of haunting

grief and the empty spaces that accompany it.

in which lee jihye and maritime war god carry what they can of the people they’ve lost.

also on ao3 and part of @themazine, which you should all download here!!

. . . . .

The only survivor of Taepung Girls High School.

This is not a title that she wanted. Lee Jihye did not want to walk out of that school alone. She didn’t want to walk out at all but she survived and survivors had to move on to the next scenario location.

As Kim Dokja said: Nobody “deserves” to live, but if you’ve survived, take responsibility!

She walked out of that school numb and shaking, tears falling from her eyes but only vaguely aware of them. It was as if she was looking at the world through a pane of glass; she could see everything, but it was out of her reach.

Her hands still feel foreign. How does one forget the sensation of strangling another? How does Lee Jihye go through each day without breaking down to the memory of Na Bori’s throat in her hands, Na Bori’s fingers gentle on her wrists, Na Bori’s final breaths beneath her hold?

There is an empty space where Na Bori should be. Always beside her, the absence is a ghost itself that Lee Jihye holds onto tightly; she has nothing, but this nothing is the last thing she has of Na Bori.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ advises his incarnation to sleep.]

Lee Jihye barely glances at the message. “I can’t.”

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ looks sadly upon his incarnation.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ reminds incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’ that he will listen if she wants to talk.]

She looks down at her hands. They’re empty, and yet—

She is a murderer, but so is everyone else that’s survived this far. She is a child, but there are no children in the Star Stream. She is alone, but she is surrounded by people she will kill for and who would kill for her.

She is Lee Jihye, and she should not be here.

“Why did you choose me?” Lee Jihye asks. It’s not what she wanted to say, but something between grief and loss and rage caught in her throat and the question came out instead. It’s not something she’s really thought about. Things have been too busy, and Lee Jihye likes busy; if she’s focused on survival, she doesn’t need to think about emptiness inside her that she ripped open herself.

“Why not anyone else? Someone who isn’t scared of the sea? Someone stronger?”

Her throat tightens. Somehow, Lee Jihye didn’t realize how much it was bothering her.

Why would she be chosen by a constellation named Maritime War God? There are so many better options. She’s just a teenage girl, too old to be a child and too young to be called an adult. She’s nothing special, just the survivor of a high school massacre done solely for the entertainment of uncaring constellations. Now that the question is out in the air, she’s realizing how desperately she needs an answer.

There’s a lot she’s been running from, lately. This is just another.

Maritime War God is silent. Had she been outside, she would have tried to find his star, make sure he hasn’t abandoned her.

But she’s not.

Lee Jihye is inside, back to the wall watching everyone else sleep through the open door. She’s far enough away that they won’t hear her speak, but close enough to keep an eye on them. It reflects much of how she feels these days: on the outside, looking in.

She’s idly counting each time she clenches her hands into fists, reaching 43 before an indirect message arrives.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ would like to honor his friend through incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ remembers how ‘Lee Eokgi’ did not abandon him when others had, and wishes to return the favor by taking care of his descendant.]

Lee Jihye stares at the indirect messages. She reads them again. Then once more.

She doesn’t cry, but it’s a close thing.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ understands that the weight of a life is heavy indeed, and to kill a beloved friend will hurt in a way that never heals.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ mourns the people he loves, who can only live on in his stories.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ reminds his incarnation that her friend does not blame her and gave her life so that incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’ can live on.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ hopes that one day incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’ can remember not only the pain, but also the love of her friends.]

Lee Jihye scrubs at her eyes roughly, ducking her head to hide her expression from view. It does nothing to stop the tears that quickly spill down her cheeks or the sob that fractures itself out of her chest.

It hurts. It hurts.

Being alive hurts but she has to live because Na Bori gave up her life for her. She has to live so Na Bori’s death can mean something.

“How can anyone live like this?” she asks, voice weak and heavy with tears. “How does anyone survive? I want her back. I want her back.”

Through the doorway, she catches sight of faint movement. Jung Heewon shifts, rolling away from Lee Hyunsung to place a hand on the hilt of her sword. No one wakes. Her grief is hidden away from them for another night.

She hears more indirect messages come in, the sound calling her attention.

Swallowing heavily, Lee Jihye wipes her eyes roughly, blinking back her tears, and looks up to read.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ recalls the day he was pushed into a lake by his subordinates after losing a drinking game.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ laughs at the memory of accidentally smearing ink on a friend’s face after writing.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ reminisces about sailing on a clear summer day and tripping over a soldier who was taking a nap.]

Lee Jihye smiles. “I did that too, once. Na Bori didn’t want to play volleyball so she took a nap on the floor and I tripped over her trying to get the ball.”

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ is looking fondly upon incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ wishes to hear more stories from the life of incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’.]

It’s hard to find the words. To find a voice for her life before the scenarios. She’s thought of it endlessly, in dreams and nightmares and slow moments when they could all take a moment to breathe.

Everything had ended and began the moment she killed Na Bori. She can barely recognize the girls in her memory when she’s changed so much.

But she’s the only one with those memories. No one else knows what she and Na Bori were like before. All they know is that one killed the other. Nothing else. Maritime War God knows nothing about the cheerful, lazy, funny girl who was afraid of insects, just as no one knows about the people he’s loved and outlived.

There are no graves in the apocalypse.

In Memory Of in this world means there is only memory. They are the living graves of others.

Lee Jihye carries the ghost of Na Bori with her. This is the only way either of them can survive—one the urn, one the ashes.

But it’s not the only thing she carries.

“We got lost once,” she says, “On a school trip. Got distracted by a cat and when we looked up everyone was gone. They were only a block away but with the way Na Bori acted you would have thought we had been abandoned forever.”

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ laughs heartily at the story and recalls how he, too, once got lost in a market following a cat.]

“Once during summer vacation we went to a park and I found a cicada shell. So I went to show her since it’s not really a bug and she nearly scaled a street light to get away from me.”

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ remembers his friend being scared of octopus and nearly fighting a fisher trying to sell him some.]

There’s a lull in their conversation before Maritime War God sends his final message for the night.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ is proud of his incarnation and honored to be one of the few to hear about ‘Lee Jihye’ from before the scenarios.]

“Thanks,” she whispers, engraving the indirect message into her memory.

It’s not the Maritime General he sends the message to. Not the survivor of Taepung Girls High School.

Just Lee Jihye.

Just the girl and the friend she survives.

She is Lee Jihye, and that means something. It means something to the constellation who looks after her as best he can, to the members of the company who always make sure she has something to eat, to Na Bori who haunts her because she gave her life for Lee Jihye.

It has to mean something.

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #lee jihye #orv fic #themazine #my writing #once again making my girl sad :)

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faofinn · 9 months

Text

Swing Life Away

As promised, here it is! Sorry for the delay, life got whumpy lol

"You're kinda cute, you know?"

"Yeah? Thanks." Harrison shook his head with a smile as he returned to his notes. "Have a few days rest, keep off that ankle and you should be back to normal in a few weeks.”

“I’m serious.”

“Who have you got to pick you up, Taidgh?”

“How about you?” He joked, and then at Harrison’s look, sighed. “My roommate drove me in.”

“Great. Do you want me to go get them?”

“Yeah.”

Glad to be away from his flirting for a few moments, Harrison headed into the waiting room to find Taidgh's friend. He was easy enough to find and Harrison brought him back through to where Taidgh was waiting.

“He’s had a bit of morphine, and he’ll need someone to keep an eye on him for a few hours.” Harrison told him. “Try and make sure he stays off the ankle as much as possible to let it heal. Ice it regularly and use painkillers as needed.”

“Alright, thank you. Tai, you ready?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Can I get your number before I go?” Harrison laughed. “Maybe wait until you’re not hopped up on painkillers before you ask things like that.”

“Oh, I’m serious.”

“Yeah? Alright then. I’ll see you later.”

His friend laughed, leading him away. “Come on, you. Let’s keep it in your pants. Thanks again, and sorry.”

“It’s no problem. Take care.” He called as they left, returning to the nurses station with a smile. It always amused him dealing with patients like that, and he’d much prefer flirting over fighting. He joked with the nurses as he finished the paperwork, and then headed onto the next patient, a smile on his face.

It was the start of his next run of shifts, thankfully days, but it was slow going. The patients he had were quickly sorted, either sent home or admitted. For once, there were beds available, and they didn’t stay long in the ED. He had a run of patients just before his lunch, and was just about to disappear when one of the nurses called him over.

“Hars? One of the physios called earlier, wanted a call back.”

“Finn’s around, isn’t he? Can you get him to do it? I’m going on my lunch, I’m starved.”

“Finn answered the bleep to start with. They asked for you.”

He groaned. “For fuck’s sake. Right, I’ll do this and get this over with. I don’t get why they call us. They don’t need us, they’ve got plenty of toys up there to play with without disturbing us.”

The phone rang several times before there was an answer. “Physio department.”

“Yeah, hi. It’s Dr Cunningham from the ED. I was asked to phone you back? Apparently you couldn’t annoy my colleague instead.”

“Oh, yeah, great, give me two seconds and I’ll pass you over.”

“Sure, okay.” More waiting. He rolled his eyes, tapping his pen on the desk in front of him.

“Hey, you said to wait until I wasn’t hopped up on pain meds.”

Harrison was silent. It had been a joke, he’d been his patient, but he couldn’t help the flip in his stomach. “Uh, hi.”

“Sorry, this is really weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just… you were cute and I thought I’d shoot my shot.” He paused. “I’m going to go and die of embarrassment.”

“Hey, no, no. Don’t go.” He spoke before his brain caught up. “Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll text you?”

“I’m about to go on lunch, I could come down and say hi?” He hesitated. “I was about to have mine, too. We could meet in the caf?”

“Great, it’s a date!”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Harrison said, the phone already dead. What had he just agreed to?

He was ridiculously nervous as he waited, standing at the door of the cafeteria. He wasn't normally nervous, and he had no reason to be. They were just having lunch, it was a one off, nothing serious.

"Hey, Dr Harrison, right?"

He turned. "Uh, hi. It's just Harrison."

"What, no first name?" He teased.

"No, Harrison is my name. Just Harrison."

"Alright. Don't think I can really say anything, can I? A name like Taidgh? Nobody normally gets it right the first time."

"I've got - one of the surgeons here, he's called Faolan. That's a mouthful too."

"Another Irish too? We'll take over the hospital eventually."

Harrison laughed. "I'm sure you will. So, lunch? I'm starving."

"God, me too. Come on."

#tai x hars #taidgh cole #harrison cunningham #injured ankle #flirty patient #tai is the sweetest and i love him #oc #fic #whump #whump writing #fluff #meet cute #morphine

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cain-writing · 2 years

Text

Discovered [part1]

collab of a story with @sorry-not-sorry-whump !

characters wont be revealed JUST yet but if you know you know.....

cws: murder, minor character death, “rescue”

The beast stares blankly ahead with one open eye, wrists held up in a stained rope in a tense position. They feel… nothing. Just aches and numbness. They’ve lost track of the days, the months… It all just faded together in their brain. What was yesterday? What was today? Their eyes close, feeling too tired and weak to stay completely awake for the time being. All they knew was here.

The little white noise the beast had, the whirr of electricity through the complex, dies down as the lights do. Someone swears down the hall, heavy footsteps heading away from the beast's position. A few others whish past, grumbling about the lights and something about 'Smash'. ‘..What the hell is a Smash?’ They try to lift their head again, but immediately stop when they realize how dark it is. A primal terror forms as a pit in their stomach, and the rabbit is left to try to stop themselves from panicking. Now they're only half-panicking as they ignore the darkness. No one pauses in front of their cage, not even for a glance.

A scream, cut short, rings from the other room. The half-panic quickly turns into full panic. They go rigid and alert, muscles screaming as they struggle a little against their current bindings. ‘Danger—!’ If their captors were being killed, what did that mean for them-

The beast is left alone as they hear their various captors be slaughtered, one after another. Soon, only one set of footsteps falls.

‘Fuck.’

All they felt was terror, fear... They hold their breath, and try to remain as silent as possible. Whatever this thing was, it could most likely kill them even more easily than the now-dead monsters.

The air is cooler now. The doors swing open, the only noise in this eerie hall. Whoever this is- whatever it is- treads down the hall. All that the beast thinks to do is hide. Be quiet. Play like they're already dead. ‘Nobody would touch them, then-!’ Their breathing quickens involuntarily as they hear the single footsteps. They're going to die.

"...Oh, got a coward among you?" a deep voice calls. "Don't worry, you'll meet your buddies again soon."

A man approaches, not yet having caught sight of the beast. A quiet whimper forms in their throat, making the softest of noises. They're convinced that they've been seen, but try to force themselves to stop trembling anyway. He bangs something against the metal of the cell, the sound reverberating.

"C'mon, show me the teeth."

They yelp sharply at the noise bouncing around in their head and forget every current survival plan as instinct kicks in, shooting up and trying to cover their long, brown ears as they hurriedly push away from the voice. ‘Hurts hurts hurts hurts-’

The man abruptly pauses, eyes shooting a bit above the creature's head. One pink eye opens, very slightly, and stares a bit unfocused at the man in-front of the cage. ‘Stay- 'way-’ A weak growl comes from their chest, heart racing.

"..You're not a vamp, are you?" he says, voice a twinge gentler.

The stained blood on the beastfolk's torn clothes, in and all around the cage, and the bruises... They don't answer, not seeming to fully hear the words being spoken. The man sets down the bloody pipe, and instead taps against the bars, looking for the door.

"Hey," he tries, "little guy."

They flinch, letting out a hiss instead of a growl. It sounds quite pathetic, and their hands go protectively towards their neck.

The situation clicks in the man's head. His attitude changes. "...shh. It's fine. See? No fangs," he lifts his lip, showing perfectly normal teeth.

Confusion is evident in their single visible eye, staring for a good few moments at the man's face.

‘Hu..man.’

Suddenly they're trying to come closer, reaching their furred hand out and whining. Out. ‘Out, out, they want home-’

The man couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for this bloodbag.

"Shh, it's okay. Do you know where the key is, buddy?"

If not, he'd just break the lock, but noticing the creature's large ears, he doesn't plan to make that his first course of action. It takes a few seconds for them to comprehend the question. They shake their head slightly in response, looking a bit more upset. ‘Monsters- would've had-’

"Damn," he frowns, eyeing the lock. He hits against it with the pipe, it popping open soon enough. Squeaking, they reel back and cover their ears again, wincing at each hit against the metal. ‘It's- It's not to hurt, it's to free-' They think to themselves, managing not to resort to hissing and growling in fear.

The sound stops once he realizes, and the man sets it aside.

"Ah, they tied you up, too. Poor thing." They look back up, confused at all of the kindness being shown, and try to communicate. A small gesture to the cell door- ‘Out. Please.’ The man examines the binds, and unfastens them from the cage, otherwise leaving them on.

"..Let's get you cleaned up, and someplace I can get a better look at you."

Tears form in their visible eye, looking hopeful and relieved, before slumping forward into an unconscious state from the stress and exhaustion of, well, everything. The man hoists them over his shoulder, giving a contented sigh.

They'd be in a better place soon.

#whump #whumpblr #whump writing #my writing

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 1 year

Text

I posted 10,152 times in 2022

1,692 posts created (17%)

8,460 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@shenanigans-and-imagines

@bruvebanner

@goshilovehappiness

@cryptids-and-starlight

@dingdongyouarewrong

I tagged 5,795 of my posts in 2022

Only 43% of my posts had no tags

#video - 967 posts

#marvel - 750 posts

#mcu - 713 posts

#stranger things - 658 posts

#star wars - 511 posts

#shameless self promotion - 418 posts

#eddie munson - 390 posts

#moon knight - 317 posts

#the sandman - 261 posts

#marvel oc - 224 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#ask any actor to write something for themselves to perform and they will give you the most angst ridden shit you’ve seen in your life

My Top Posts in 2022:

Steven protecting reader when people come after them but he's shaking like a leaf while he does so lol

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this. My brain was utter mush yesterday. This is my first time writing for Moon Knight, so let me know what you think!

Word Count: 456

This day couldn’t get any weirder. Steven had been missing for two days only to pop back up with a bag he claimed he got from a storage locker he apparently owned but didn’t know about. A woman named Layla was with him, saying she was his wife or rather a guy named Marc’s wife who at the very least looked exactly like Steven. Then the police showed up, threw both of you in the back of a car, and now a strange man, Harrow, asking questions you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Your head was spinning. The only consolation you had was that Steven seemed just as confused as you.

Glancing around, you noticed how everyone had their attention on Steven. Maybe you could slip away. Surely there had to be some actual police somewhere who could help. The woman Layla seemed to have some idea what was going on. Why didn’t you just follow her out the window?

“And who is this?”

You froze realizing all too quickly Harrow’s attention was completely on you. It was unsettling. Despite his gentle expression his eyes were pure calculation as if trying to pry every little dirty secret you ever had in hopes of finding you guilty.

You took a step back on instinct. The action only made him smile with all the pleasantness of nails on a chalkboard.

Before you could even think of how to answer, Steven stepped forward taking your hand and pulling you firmly behind him. You weren’t sure who was more shocked, you, Harrow or Steven.

“They’ve got nothing to do with this,” he said, his eyes never wavering. “Frankly speaking neither of us have anything to do with this.”

Harrow looked between you. Something sharp passed his features before slipping back into that holier than thou zen.

“I’m sure that’s right. All the same, I do like knowing who I’m escorting through this little slice of heaven.”

Steven kept silent and in solidarity, you did as well.

Harrow huffed out a resigned sigh. “Very well, Steven Grant and One-With-No-Name it is.”

He then turned his back and started forward.

The second he was out of eye line, Steven’s shoulders dropped, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

You had to smile. You could kiss him if it wasn’t for present company.

“Yeah,” you promised. “You?”

He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but it only came off as forced and a little manic. “Just stay close, yeah?”

You weren’t sure if he meant it to comfort you or himself. Either way, you squeezed his hand never letting go as you followed Harrow further into the camp. At the very least, neither of you were alone.

404 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

Stephen tending to reader's wounds because they're clumsy !

This was a new low, even for you. Who actually trips down the stairs? Nobody. Stuff like that is reserved for slap stick comedies and desperate soap opera writers, not every day life. And yet, here you were.

You held back a wince as Strange pressed the alcohol soaked cotton ball against your temple.

"I would think you'd be used to this by now," he said sardonically.

You hoped he wasn't so close he could feel the rise of heat in your cheeks. "I'm not that bad."

"Eh, debatable."

The initial sting had faded, and now you were left with the most more pleasant sensation of his fingers against your skin as he carefully dabbed the blood away. His shaking hands might have kept him from picking up a scalpel again, but there was nothing stopping him from doing an admirable job as your on call nurse.

He tilted your chin up taking a moment to exam all of your features for any further damage.

"Your pupils are dilated," he observed. "Are you experiencing any headaches? Nausea?"

Now you were certain he could feel your cheeks were on fire. If you were very, very lucky he'd just assume it was embarrassment and not an effect of having him so close.

"No," you choked. "I'm fine. I mean...not great, obviously, but you know...normal. No brain damage."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his lips pressed into a careful line before nodding.

"Alright, if you're sure. But tell me the second you feel anything like that, okay?"

The concern in his voice was enough to make you have all of those symptoms paired with dizziness and a light chest. Somehow you kept yourself together and nodded in understanding.

"Okay, I think that concludes your exam," he said, dryly. "Expect a bill on Monday."

"Worth every penny," you said, with a smile.

"Tell me that again after you talk to your insurance agent."

You laughed, slipping off the counter and back onto solid ground. Apparently you moved too quickly as you swayed, stumbling forward.

Strange caught you in a second, holding your arms to keep you upright.

"Careful," he warned. "Another move like that and I'll have to start wrapping you in bubble wrap every morning."

"That might not be a bad idea," you admitted. It was then you made the mistake of looking up, catching his eyes staring full force into yours.

"Your pupils are still dilated," he said, his voice losing that professional edge. "Something else I should know about?"

You swallowed, trying to find strength in your legs to straighten up but only finding jelly. "I can't think of anything."

His gaze didn't waver, the wheels turning every so carefully until finally they came to some sort of conclusion. A slow smile spread across his face.

"You sure?" he teased. "Because you've got all the hallmarks of being nervous."

"I'm not nervous," you lied. "I'm just...still a little shaky from the fall."

His smile only broadened. "Of course. Well, if that's the case. Maybe it's best you stay right here, with me, until you feel less...shaky."

You opened your mouth to retort, but it was too dry to say anything. This man was going to kill you and you would let him. Maybe falling down the stairs wasn't the worst thing to happen to you.

453 notes - Posted January 14, 2022

Here’s another one because it’s my day off and I deserve it.

468 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

maybe a drabble about peter setting the reader and stephen up? spidey matchmaker?

"Parker, are you listening?" you said, sharply.

Peter pulled his eyes away from his phone, flushing with mild embarrassment. "Yes," he assured. "Yes, absolutely."

You shook your head. Peter Parker truly was one of your best students, and you'd be lying if he said he also wasn't one of your favorites. He was nothing short of brilliant with the added bonus of not having an ego about it, unlike so many at Midtown. You had been happy to be his mentor when he entered high school. The problem came from him being so distracted. Once you had discovered he was Spider-Man, it made his absence from your classroom understandable, but there was a frustration in him not paying attention even when you had granted extra time with him after class to catch up.

"Excellent, so what is the answer?" you said, your gaze unwavering.

He squirmed in his seat. "Ah...twelve?"

You raised an eyebrow. "The chemical formula for nitric acid is twelve?"

"HNO₃," he corrected. "It's HNO₃."

He looked back down at his phone.

"Parker, if you can't be bothered to pay attention, perhaps we should reschedule for another time."

"No!" he said, quickly. "I am one-hundred percent paying attention. I wouldn't waste your time like that Ms. Y/N. I promise."

You let a sigh. He really was a sweet kid. You just wished he hadn't formed the habit of lying.

"Peter..."

Before you could finish, sparks formed in mid-air, just behind his head.

Your eyes widened as a circle formed growing bigger and bigger until finally a man walked through.

"Alright kid, what's the emergency."

You blinked, recognizing him.

Doctor Stephen Strange, the wizard who helped defeat Thanos.

Peter had told you about him and you had seen glimpses from various phone cameras taken of the events both before and after the blip. None of them did him any justice.

"Doctor Strange," Peter said, jumping to his feet. "Oh sorry, Ms. Y/N, this is Doctor Strange. Doctor Strange, this is Ms. Y/N, she's my chemistry teacher. The one I was telling you about."

You could feel heat rise in your cheeks, both from embarrassment at the idea of one of your students talking about you to outside of class and the very clear game he was playing.

Strange for his part, just seemed confused as he looked you up and down.

"Nice to meet you," he said. His gaze lingered, making your embarrassment only deepen. He really did have nice eyes.

A beep came from Peter's phone. "Oh crisis averted. Looks like it all worked itself out. Sorry for calling you, sir." He grabbed his backpack with lightning speed, heading towards the exit. "And sorry Ms. Y/N, my Aunt May need me home. Doctor Strange, there's a coffee place down the street, you should check out since you're here. You both should."

"Parker!"

"Kid!"

But it was no use, he was down the hall and out of sight before either of you could utter another word.

A long silence settled as both of you stared uselessly at the door and finally to each other.

"I'm sorry about--"

"I don't know why he--"

See the full post

757 notes - Posted January 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

could you write Mando/Din x reader bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go?

congrats on 5k :) I love your writing and your OCs

This was proof you needed better gloves. The ones you had were fine for metal work, but the precise nature of wiring couldn't be done with such a bulky set.

Your fingers were still numb, but the throbbing in your hand served as a reminder they wouldn't stay that way for long. Small blessings, still the open cut and small burns were nothing to sneeze at.

"Kriff," you grumbled, giving yourself a second to lean against the wall of the ship. Obviously you needed to get this taken care of, but the pain was still to immediate. There was no way you were climbing up the ladder until you got your head on straight.

"Everything okay down there," Din called from the cockpit.

"Yeah. Can you just throw me down the med pack?"

There was a small shuffle above you. Carefully you rose to your feet, readying yourself to catch the bag with your one good hand. It didn't make any different as, instead, Din came climbing down.

"Dank farrik," he swore, his head turning to your hand. "What happened?"

You shrugged. "Bad wiring."

There really wasn't much more to say and neither of you were one for unnecessary conversation.

He guided you back to a sitting position before pulling out a bacta patch and some other bandages.

"Let me see," he said, offering a gloved hand to you.

You suppressed the warm feeling that bloomed inside you at the gesture. This wasn't necessarily new. You and Din had traveled together long enough for you to know his instinct was to help. All the same, the reminder was enough to send your heart pounding.

Wordlessly, you extended your injured hand, allowing him to examine it. Rough leather brushed against your skin. In an instant, your skin felt like it was burning as a shock of pain shot straight up your arm.

You pulled away with a small yelp, the pressure of tears forming in your eyes.

"Shit!" you gasped, forcing steady breaths back into you.

"Are you okay?" Din asked, concern lacing his tone.

You managed a nod. "Yeah, just more sensitive than I thought."

He nodded in understanding, before doing something you never thought you'd see. He took off his gloves.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

"They're irritating your skin," he said, simply. "I'll be able to work faster this way."

You couldn't think of a counter argument. It was that line of thinking that got you into this mess in the first place.

Your eye became focus on his hands. You had only gotten glimpses of his skin before as it peaked out between his wrist and glove, but never so openly.

"Is this allowed?" you asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Of course, it means we have to get married."

"What?!"

A short laugh came for behind his helmet. You honestly didn't know whether to laugh yourself or smack him.

"Ha, ha, very funny buckethead," you said dryly.

He only chuckled, extending his now naked hand towards you.

See the full post

767 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #doctor strange x reader #din djarin x reader #steven grant x reader

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