#pedro across the street

[oonajaeadira]

i was rereading a GTTT chapter and Patricio has just been in my mind rent free, creeping in from daydreams in places i should not be daydreaming. So I’ve got a PATS question for you. How would Patricio and Reader navigate the issue of him being too drained sexually when Reader is needy?

Hello, lovely.

First of all, I want to apologize for the long hiatus I've taken on Pats and Pres. This ask--and many more--have been sitting in my inbox for far too long and I'd like to think that answering late is better than never. Thank you for your patience with me!!!

This is a very interesting question and it sparked some over-arching thoughts. I have half an answer for you here--from his point of view, and therefore the "drained" part of it. Pres may not seem too needy here, but look to the next installment for more on that.

Also, a non-apology here to everyone.

For so long I've made you believe that Patricio is confident, in control...or at least in denial about it when he's not. But he's growing. Changing. There may be more vulnerability here than you want and much less sexy times. Not everyone has a good day every day.

Kiss and Tell: Everyone's Allowed a Bad Day (GTTT PATS)

FANDOM: Calls - Apple TV (PATS is a character from ep. 3. “Pedro Across the Street.” This is not RPF.)

As with all of my PATS installments, warnings abound for explicit content. (This one's much tamer than most.)

(gif by cavill-henry)

It’s nights like these that he sometimes wished he smoked. He’ll pour himself a drink once the client wakes up and leaves, but he doesn’t want her to catch it on his breath.

Bourbon. Bath. Bed. Maybe something short and calm on streaming. There’s a new cowboy film just dropped by that Spanish director looks good. 

Leaning on the kitchen counter and staring out across the silent living room, he contemplates the novel you left on the coffee table. Wonders if you’re missing it.

It occurs to him that he could call you. He can do that now. He doesn’t need a reason anymore, but even if the reason is a rough day…actually, maybe that’s even more reason to call you. In fact, he really should ask you–

His phone vibrates on the countertop and he frowns. It’s your pattern and his heart races a little, not only because it’s you, but thinking he’s been lost in thought too long, that he’s missed the three-hour mark. But a flip of the phone shows him he’s got 20 minutes to go. 

Odd. It’s not like you to interrupt a session.

“Hey, muñeca, everything okay?” he mumbles, stepping barefoot out onto the front porch in nothing but his sweatpants.

Your voice sounds far away, “Oh shit,” before a riffling sound and then a clearer, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit dial. I didn’t know I did. I was going to call and then I saw the time…I know you’re in the middle of a session, oh loverboy I’m so sorry–”

Just the sound of your voice is an instant balm. “It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s sleeping. I was actually just thinking about calling you.”

“Oh, really?” There’s something there behind your fluster, hiding among the smile in your voice, something that he might not have noticed if you hadn’t said you meant to call.

“Something you wanted to call me about?”

There’s a sound in the background. An announcement. You’re in public. “Um, no, not really. I just had a lonely moment, that’s all.”

“Well that’s an ego boost. You wanna come spend the night?”

There’s a pause. Shocked, judging by your voice. “Really? On an appointment night?”

He scratches his head and focuses on his feet as he aimlessly paces the porch. “Sure. I mean, if like a quarter after ten isn’t too late for you to drive just to go to bed.”

“With the weather shifting and how warm you run? It’s never too late to say yes to a heated bed.”

He smiles. “Glad I can be of service.” There's silence from you and he cringes. “Shit. Not you– not– Was that a bad choice of word?”

“No. It’s just–”

“Hey. I want you here tonight. I wanna talk to you.” Another silence. He supposes that sounds ominous. It shouldn’t. “You know, here. Not…on a phone.” He’s still not good at this. 

“That sounds nice…. You, uh, need anything? I’m at the grocery store.”

“No. Just you.” It feels good to say. Right. It’s what’s needed to break what feels like an odd tension into a few comfortable, mutually smiling moments. “So. The grocery store. And you’re feeling lonely. At a grocery store.”

Your laughter--hushed but musical--is kept close to the phone. “Well I am standing in produce and they just got in some preeeeeetty nice looking eggplants.”

“Wow.”

Another laugh, less hushed, throatier. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’ll let you get back to your work. I assume you’ve got a sleeping beauty to wake up.”

Pulling the phone away from his face for a timecheck, he winces. “Yeah. I’ll see you in 20?”

“I’d say I can’t wait, but you know that I will.”

Wow. “I know and I…”Something sweet twists inside. “I know.”

After you hang up he stands a minute more on the porch in the dark. The leaves are almost all off the trees now, the crickets are gone. His feet are freezing and the skin on his torso is goosebumping; doing its best–and failing–to lift his fine hairs to shield him from the autumn chill. But it’s far from unpleasant and he finds that he’s awake for the sensation in a way he hasn’t been in a while.

He’s alive again in a way he hasn’t been in a while.

The last couple of months have been…nothing short of amazing.

He should tell you that. He should say it.

But he’s got to get to that point where…he accepts it. 

Not the relationship…the fact that there’s always a possibility it’s too good to be true, that he could lose it. He could lose you.

You’re handling everything so well, but for how long? How long until you make him choose?

Oh fuck, please don’t make me choose, preciosa, please.

The phone buzzes in his hand. Timer; no need to look, just thumbs the button to silence. On another night, he’d allow himself more time, let the client sleep while he mused. But he’s got a job to do. 

And someone special arriving soon.

So he packs these thoughts away and goes quietly inside to prepare.

________

He’s just poured the detergent in the washing machine when he hears the door open. “Hey, I’m just cleaning up, gimme a second.”

Out in the entry, your shoes clatter on the floor and then your keys jingle on the kitchen counter and before he knows it you’re on him, topless and crowding him against the washing machine, kissing him like he’s just come back from war. It’s jarring but pleasant and full of hungry sighs…until there’s a ping in his calf muscle.

“Ooh, hey, Pres, hey hey, hang on.” Taking your face in his hands he calms, he whispers, he soothes you in order to soothe himself, but you catch on instantly, concern splashing over you.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

A kiss to the tip of your nose, to your smart little nose. “No, no, I’m a little sore; just had a difficult session–a difficult day, actually. And I haven’t showered yet. So don’t get yourself too worked up here. You don’t want me like this.”

He expects you to recoil from this, to find the sex with someone else still lingering on his skin. You don’t.

You simply run your hands over his sides, lean in to kiss his chin. “Of course I do. I want you like whatever you are.”

You’re backlit from the kitchen and there’s something like a soft halo around you, bringing a glow to the roll of your cheeks, the swipe of your lip. Tracing these with a finger and finding himself reflected in your eyes, he trusts you, accepts this, tries to see himself like you do. How are you so effortless?

There’s nothing but surrender when you rake your fingers through his beard and push yourself up onto tiptoe to press a warm kiss to his forehead. “But if you really feel that way, beautiful, let me run you a bath.” 

Everytime he opens his eyes and you’re there, it's like a small miracle.

“Come on,” you smile, taking his hand and guiding him to the stairs, “let me take care of you and you can tell me about your day.”

You’re perfect. He’s so grateful he picked up the phone tonight when he did.

________

“Mmmmm, that’s good.” The sigh comes up from his bottom wells, like a contented creature crawling out of hidden caverns within. The back of his head rests in your palm, warm water spilling over his scalp. Your hands whisper and calm and soothe. He spends so much time using his touch to bring relaxation to others that he’d all but forgotten that it could go the other way. And your touch–

“So there was some heavy lifting tonight, huh?” Your finger lightly wipes away an errant rivulet from the corner of his eye. “Ness, right?”

The ghost of irritation looms. “Mmm. She has a pretty severe tailbone injury. Didn’t tell me about it before she showed up. Lot of full-body lifting on the table just to get her in the right positions for stretch.”

“I see. You’ll feel it tomorrow. And sore tailbone means no actual sex tonight.”

“Oh no, we had some fun. She’s got weeks of recovery ahead of her and she needed some practice re-routing some natural orgasm responses to different muscle groups when she ejaculates.”

“Ejaculates? She…? Ohhh.” A loving hand begins to wander lightly over his chest. “I assumed. My bad.”

“Sorry. Should have been more clear. But yeah.”

“No need to apologize. I don’t know why I hadn’t just assumed that you…took all forms of payment.”

He peeks an eye open to catch your reaction as you reach over the side of the tub toward him and finds your warm, curious smile. “Not to disparage the vaginal anatomy, but sometimes it’s nice to have my dick handled by someone who has a lifetime experience with their own.”

“Noted. Fair.”

Closing his eyes and sinking into the warm bath of your care a lifetime goes by with your hands running over his skin.

“You’re very accommodating.”

A kiss lands on his temple. “Wait until you realize I’m terribly selfish and am in it for the rewards points.” When his smile fades, your hands slow. “That was a joke.”

“I know.” Sensing a shift in tone coming when he turns to you, you instinctively pull back, but he catches your hand in his, pulling it in to place a wet kiss to your knuckles. “Would you mind if I don’t want to have sex tonight?”

“Of course. That’s okay.” A half-smile. Are you covering disappointment?

“I’m more than happy to go down on you if you–”

But a shake of your head stops him. “No, it's fine. I can tell you’re tired. You said you had a hard day. Wanna tell me about it while we get you dried off and into bed?”

He feels like a child as he simply nods, allows you to help him up, succumbs to you as you care for him. It’s easy to do, to melt under your attention, to crack open and spill. He does his best not to control the spread as he generalizes a failed report at work, a difficult project he’s fallen behind on. By the time you’re sliding into the sheets and curling up next to him, he’s breaching the topic he’s been deciding and undeciding and deciding again to tell you about–that his mother called without warning.

“She wants to meet you.”

Your breathing stills in the darkness. “You told your mom about me.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I..” you stutter, “I guess I didn’t… I’m flattered that you talk about me?”

There’s a pang of guilt that he’s let you believe you’re not important enough for him to tell the world that you’re in his life. But he sighs as you squeeze your arm around his middle. “You might feel differently if you met her.”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to meet your…is it just your mom?”

“And my father. I have an older brother but he lives in Australia. Doesn’t go home much.”

“Home issssSantiago?”

“Just outside of it. Rancagua.”

Another squeeze. Perhaps that was a lie; your arm around him and the brush of your lips on his shoulder feels like his true home now. 

“So this call was stressful because she wants to meet me. And you’re nervous?”

“The call was stressful because…I don’t…want her to meet you.” Your squeeze lightens a bit and he slides his grip over your arm in case you decide he’s awful and want to pull away. He knows he should let you go if you want to but– “I wanted to ask you, Pres…I’m sorry I don’t know if I can ask this much from you but–”

It almost breaks his heart when your arm slides through his hand, when your warmth leaves his side, when you abandon him…

But it’s only for the time it takes to hear the click of the bedside lamp, register the bright sting and spill of light, and you’re back beside him, leaning over him, turning his face to yours with one patient hand on his cheek. “What’s going on. I’ve never seen you like this.”

Shit. Get it together.

“You’re going to think I’m a fucking jerk–”

“Don’t tell me what you think I’m going to think, sir. Tell me what you need from me. Just say it.”

This leaves him with depleted gambling chips, raises the stakes. But you’re right. He has to be honest.

“The relationship I have with my family is…strained. That’s why I live here and not there. I see them somewhat regularly, but the holidays are when the whole family gets together–all the cousins–and it’s just a lot. There’s a lot that’s expected, a lot of judgements…it’s overwhelming. I can barely make it through myself, but having you there? Watching you be scrutinized on top of it when we’re just figuring this out? I just…no.”

“You know I won’t tell them–”

“It’s not that, fuck, it’s not that.” He surges in for a kiss, taking you in deep, willing you to understand him by osmosis; if only… “Every time I’ve gone down for the holidays it’s stressful enough…it’s…it’s bad enough that I’m away from my clients, but–”

“But under stress the itch gets worse. And you don’t have your outlet. And you’re not in control.”

Oh god, you see him. You see him and he’s so…fucking pathetic.

The last thing he expects is for you to pepper kisses along his mouth and chin, to dot a lingering one on his cheek before pulling him into your chest, to cradle him, breathe into his hair.

But it’s exactly what you do.

“What do you need, beautiful boy? Anything you want.”

He breathes. Sighs. Curses himself for doubting you, for assuming you wouldn’t surprise him. Allows you to hold the weight of his heart on your own without a spotter.

“I need to…not do the ‘meet the family’ thing this year. I just want you to myself for a while.”

A hum of sympathy, of bittersweetness, one that stakes his heart into the ground at your feet. “Oh Patricio. Is that all?” Your breast moves under his cheek as you lean over to turn off the light, your soft curves and soft scent and soft hum whispering to him, calming him, soothing him into you. “I’ll admit that I’m a little sad that I don’t get to show you off to my family, but I definitely see the appeal of a quiet holiday season, just us hiding away from the world together. You want me to yourself? Did you really think I would find that anything but absolutely wonderful?”

All at once, the strains of the day overtake him, the need to say more is gone and took his energy to do so right along with it. A whole lifetime of relief in just an hour. That’s your secret power. Always has been. He cannot think of words more meaningful than, “Thank you.”

Your fingertips begin their pattern of affection along his jaw, tattooing a spell of sleep through him. “This really means a lot to you, huh.” He’s too gone to get his voice to work and it seems you assume he’s fallen asleep. “Well you mean the world to me. You don’t even know, mister.”

It’s not worth the effort to drag himself from the downward pull of dreams to ask you to say more about that. Not when he knows you’ll be right here in the morning and he can ask you then.

Or say the same thing right back to you.

Maybe this time he’ll find a way to do that.

______

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

#good things take time #pedro across the street #calls fanfiction #23

[juletheghoul]

a/n: I started writing fanfic when I was in my teens, typing away into the night as a way to feel connected to my faves. Eventually I stopped, maybe convinced myself that I'd grown out of it, but that definitely wasn't the case. Truth is the stories have always been there, and I've always wanted to tell them. I'm happy to have found my way back to fanfic, back to the sense of community and all those other amazing fucking stories that I've read here. I've been lucky enough to have my things put on rec lists and now I want to make one of my own. I've been compiling a list of submissions, along with some of my faves and I offer them up to you, humbly. This list in no way encompasses all of the masterpieces I've read, just doing my best with the shitshow that is my memory lol. I am beyond lucky to have reached such a wild milestone, thanks for following along-please enjoy and show these creators some love!

Story recs;

Each story will have it's own warnings**

Jack Whiskey Daniels;

Under Marula Trees (Jack x F!Reader) by @deadhumourist

Cognitive Dissonance (Jack x F!reader) by @prolix-yuy

The Cowboy Next Door (Jack x virgin!freader) by @ikissdin

Javier Peña;

Learning to Live (Javier Peña/f!reader) by @wheresarizona

Fear and Loathing (Javier Peña x F!Reader) by @joels6strings

Lie to Me (Javier Peña x DEA Agent fem reader) by @iamskyereads

Mailroom Crush (Javier Peña x f!reader) by @littlemisspascal

Girl Next Door (Javier Peña x f!reader) by @babybugwrites

Teach Me Tonight (Javier Peña x F!DEA!Reader) by @storiesofthefandomlovers 

Dieter Bravo;

Funny Girl (Dieter x F!Reader) by @radiowallet

Stay on the Screenplay (Dieter x F!Reader) by @jazzelsaur

Love Triangles (Dieter Bravo x Female Reader) by @littlemisspascal

Morning (Porn star Dieter x Porn star reader) by @write-and-buried

Dave York;

Appreciation (Dave x F!Reader) by @pedropascalsx

My Girl (Dave York x f!reader x Francisco “Catfish” Morales) by @foli-vora

Family Fun Series (Dave York x F!Nanny!Reader x Carol York) by @absurdthirst

Rare (Dave York x fem reader) by @ezrasbirdie

Din Djarin;

Take Me to Church (Din Djarin/Reader Western AU) by @frannyzooey

Vibes (Din x F!Reader) by @mandoblowmybackout

Boxer Din Series (Boxer Din Djarin x Masseuse Fem!Reader) by @djarinsbeskar

Like a Moth to the Flame (monster!Din x F!reader) by @the-scandalorian

A Brush of Life (Hades!Din x f!reader) by @charnelhouse

Pero Tovar;

Ego & Black Powder (Pero x F!Reader) by @psychedlic-ink

The Wolf Series (Werewolf!Pero Tovar x F!Reader) by @absurdthirst

Frankie Morales;

Weeknights (Frankie Morales x F!reader) by @frannyzooey

Please To Meet You (Frankie x F!Reader) by @intheorangebedroom

Still of the Night (Frankie xF!reader) by @foli-vora

Joel Miller;

West (Joel Miller x Third Person Female) by @radiowallet

September (Joel x f!reader) by @wheresarizona

Pedro Across The Street (Calls)

Good Things Take Time (PATS x f!reader) by @oonajaeadira

Masterlists;

@novemberrain-writes - masterlist

@thisishellfire - Pedro masterlist

@foli-vora - masterlist

@wheresarizona - masterlist

@frannyzooey - masterlist

@oonajaeadira - masterlist

@psychedelic-ink - masterlist

@nexusnyx - masterlist

@wardenparker - masterlist

@loversandantiheroes - masterlist

@whiskeynwriting - masterlist

@pedros-mustache - masterlist

@writer-darling - masterlist

@mothandpidgeon - masterlist

@littlepadika - masterlist

@pedropascalsx - masterlist

@absurdthirst - masterlist

@just-here-for-the-moment - masterlist

#joel miller #frankie morales #pero tovar #din djarin #dave york #dieter bravo #javier peña #jack daniels #3k milestone #3k celebration #fic rec list #pedro across the street

[morallyinept]

A list of all my favourite MISC. PEDRO CHARACTERS Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 2/2

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

SPECIAL AGENT ORTEGA - THE SIXTH GUN:

For The Night - @ladamedusoif F!SexWorker Reader

Special Agent Ortega - @boliv-jenta

Agents Don't Have Favourites - @softpascalito

The Chase Is Better Than The Catch - @palioom

Room For Two - @eupheme

CALLS - PATS (PEDRO ACROSS THE STREET):

Good Things Take Time Series - @oonajaeadira

Bad Boy, Good Girl - @mandosmistress

EDDIE THE FRESHMAN - BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER:

An Act Of Kindness - @missredherring Featuring Max Phillips

MISS FLORES - SNL:

Call Me Mommy & Telenovela - @palioom

A Table For Two - @gasolinerainbowpuddles Featuring Italian Waiter

NATHAN LANDRY - THE GOOD WIFE:

Your Honor Series - @blueeyesatnight

FIRE MEET GASOLINE CHARACTER:

It's Dangerous To Fall In Love Series - @something-tofightfor

RICKY HAUK - TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL:

Pocket Poetry - @coastielaceispunk

My Story Begins With You, Jealousy & Almost Getting Caught - @supernaturalgirl20

Fruitful - @fuck-goes-on Featuring Dio Morrissey & Eddie The Freshman

LIAM - NIKITA:

Untitled - @artemiseamoon Featuring Kevin Green from L&O

Grand Gestures - @pintsizemama Dark

#fic recs #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fic recs #special agent ortega #pedro pascal stories #miss flores snl #claudia flores #pedro pascal snl #nathan landry #the good wife #eddie the freshman #pedro across the street #calls fanfiction

[exquisiteserotonin]

Love & Desire

Dieter x F!Reader

Pedro Across the Street (PATS) x F! Reader

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Pairing: Dieter X F! Reader; Pedro Across the Street (PATS) X F!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 4.2K

Summary: Realizing how far you've fallen, you and Dieter decide to set some ground rules. Realizing that life is too short, you let yourself let go and have a little bit of fun. What will Dieter think??? (Younger Dieter before The Bubble)

Warnings: All oral (f!receiving) In case anyone doesn't know Pedro Across the Street is NOT Pedro (not RPF) it is from his character Calls.

A/N - The follow up to my first Dieter fic, which you can find here!

As always big shoutouts to may babes @legendary-pink-dot @sparklefarts38 @basicoccult @redhotkitchen @blueheat1-blog @best-little-secret @imalrightllama @arcanefox207

Dieter had put you in the worst position as he stood outside on your patio looking at you expectantly through the French doors. The birds serenaded the sunrise with morning melodies as he continued to wrap gently at your window. Pushing against the mattress, you hoisted yourself up gently placing your feet on the hardwood floors. Like a small boat wafting gently on the ocean you were rocking back and forth even though you hadn’t stood up. The lamplight illuminated his features perfectly, his eyes wide and expectant while the peachy, golden sunset painted his brown hair a warmer hue.

You stumbled to the door, the floor creaking beneath your feet, a sound you usually found comfort in. Instead, it felt like your feet were trudging through mud. Unlocking the door, you let him in without a word. His eyes sparkled. He must have had a good time. He followed you, fingertips lightly gripping your hips. Half asleep and hungover you sank back into your bed curling yourself into a fetal position. 

“How was the rest of the party?” He asked you quietly, stripping down to his boxers and climbing next to you into bed. 

You closed your eyes, feeling your jaw tighten as he put his arm around you. The tears threatened to return but you somehow managed to hold them at bay with a tight squeeze of your eyes. 

“Fine, don’t really remember,” you responded, your head still spinning. 

“Awesome,” he said with a laugh that was raspy and endearing to you through your disappointment. “Well, I had a kickass time; that photographer at the party, you know---she’s worked with a lot of high-profile actors and actresses and---”

“D, D?” you interjected with a groan. “Can you tell me later? In the morning---I mean when we’re both really awake? My head is killing me.” 

Dieter responded genuinely, “Oh fuck, yeah sorry!”

“No, it’s fine.” 

Most people should have and would have understood that it was not, indeed, fine. Perpetually lost in his own world, Dieter was not most people. 

“Good night, angel,” Dieter murmured, pulling you tighter to him. 

And as much as you wanted to push his grip away from your waist, you let it stay there like a memory of how he held you so many times before. With one deep breath in and one long exhale out, you let sleep take you. 

*** 

You were awake before Dieter, the sunlight filtering harshly again through the blinds. A long, hot shower was a necessity this morning as a dull headache still lingered in your head. When you finished, you found Dieter still snoring quietly curled up with your pillow. You needed to let him sleep, so you could have breakfast to yourself and think about how you would approach your conversation this morning. He might not have sensed it, but something changed. You desperately wanted him to have even an inkling of the same feeling that you had. But it was your mistake, you let yourself fall. 

A simple breakfast of a bagel, butter, and strawberry preserves was all you needed. The rays of sun streamed through the window of your breakfast nook, making your ordinary breakfast look perfectly picturesque. It reminded you of days when Dieter wasn’t there nearly every night and every morning and how that could be easier, more peaceful than having to worry about him every day. You imagined just how good it was on the days he found himself in your home. Maybe it was time to make things simple again. 

After you finished your breakfast, you grabbed a magazine and began flipping through it until Dieter ambled through the archway of your kitchen, scratching his belly and yawning.

“G’morning,” he said through sleepy eyes, “you’re already up.”

“It’s pretty much the afternoon, Dieter,” you said, closing the magazine and pushing the chair across from you for him to sit. “Feel free to grab anything from the pantry for breakfast, if you’re hungry.” 

He smiled at you, the corner of his eyes crinkling with a smile so big that it put extra emphasis on the dimple on his right cheek. Looking at him across from you just being himself was going to make this so much harder. 

“Last night was wild,” he said, his eyes wide and excited, “that photographer was a really cool girl, knows a lot of people---it could lead to something really good.”

You laughed and before you could even think you asked, “Was she a good lay?”

“What?” Dieter asked, taken aback at the question. 

You couldn’t back down now. You leaned in closer, resting your chin on your hands. 

“D, it’s ok, you can tell me,” you insisted, trying to stay calm about it, “besides, you might benefit in case there are some things that I might be missing when you stay the night.”

Dieter’s ears perked at the thought, and he gave you a devilish smile as he rested his feet on your legs. 

“I mean, that part was OK,” Dieter finally admitted, “but she doesn’t really know what I like? You know?”

Anxiety tightened inside your chest, knowing what was going to come next, “Hey, so this thing we have it’s good, right?” 

“Uhh, yeah,” Dieter replied, looking at you as though you’d asked the most ridiculous question he’d ever heard, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I know this is a casual thing,” you said, “and we never really set expectations or ground rules, I guess.” 

He took his feet and set them firmly on the floor as he leaned forward to listen. 

‘“I mean, we should probably let each other know when we’re available, right?” you suggested with a laugh that you hoped sounded as carefree as possible. “I mean how embarrassing would it have been if you came knocking and I was with someone.”

It would have been a lie to say that you didn’t feel a moment of fleeting satisfaction when you saw the confusion wash over Dieter’s face when you said those words. He sat staring at you, trying to figure out what he was going to say next. An advanced feeling of relief lifted your shoulders knowing that you had prepared yourself for any answer that he might give. 

“But this doesn’t have to stop,” he pulled his chair close to you so that his long legs were framing yours, “right?”

The way the inner corners of his eyebrows angled upward to draw lines of disappointment on his forehead slowly worked on you, trying to chip away at the fortress you’d set up around your heart. When he began to run his hands up your thighs, you shut your eyes tight at the feeling of his fingers massaging over their surface area until they climbed up to your waist.

“Fuck no,” you laughed, “you think I’d give it up that easy.” 

“Good,” Dieter growled, bringing his hand to caress the right side of your face, gripping you just behind your ear, fingers laced in your hair, “because, I think we’ve got a good thing going on.” 

You let him kiss you and let the softness of his pouty lips send shivers down your spine. He pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around you underneath your loose t-shirt. You pushed his face away from you with a laugh. 

“Go take a shower!” You said, giving him a teasing poke to his side, “I don’t know where that girl’s been.”

“Hey!” Dieter exclaimed. “I used protection.” 

You swatted him out of the kitchen. When you knew he was gone, you ran your hands through your hair in frustration. A constant mantra repeated in your head telling yourself it had to get easier from here. It just had to. 

***

The universe listened, giving you a respite from Dieter. It was as if your time apart gave you each time to thrive in your own different ways. Your job was going well, with nothing much to complain about. Auditions and offers for roles started trickling in for him. Most of all, it gave you time to be alone without having to worry about a man in your bed. But having had Dieter so regularly made you spoiled and this drought was beginning to drive you crazy. So, when your friends invited you to a concert at The El Rey, your attendance was obvious. 

You were putting on the finishing touches on your outfit when you heard a knock at your door. Skipping to the door, you saw Alex her blonde waves bouncing as she waved at you through the glass panels of your front door. Her mouth opened into a wide smile as she nodded approvingly of your outfit. You twirled and curtsied, showing off your black miniskirt, diaphanous cream-colored blouse, giving just a peek of your black, lace bustier underneath. 

“Well, if your aim is to forget about Dieter, tonight,” Alex said with a raised brow, “I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to find someone who can fulfill that goal.”

“I am not trying to forget him, Alex,” you responded with a sigh, “we’re not together, I just really, really need to get laid.” 

“Well, either way, I have confidence in you,” Alex teased with a wink as you put on a pair of chunky, black boots.

When you and Alex arrived, the theater was already buzzing with a crowd of people. Vibrant purple and red lights illuminated the room and the people with shades of red, pink, magenta, and royal purple. The variety of people in the crowd amused you. Alex and you took turns pointing out particularly interesting people you saw in the crowd. 

“Oooh, what about him?” Alex asked, gesturing towards a tall, clean cut bespectacled man wearing a light tweed jacket over a striped polo shirt with khaki pants. 

“He looks like an elevated Steve from Blue’s Clues,” you cringed, “and now I can’t get that image out of my head…pass.” 

Alex rolled her eyes before you continued to scan the crowd. 

“What about him?” you pointed to a lithe man, with a full but neatly groomed beard wearing a red flannel shirt, jeans, and a beanie over mussed, light brown hair.

You even managed to elicit a sneaky smile from him. 

Alex looked over at him and then back at you with a grimace. 

“You mean the one dressed like a lumberjack?” Alex said, her voice monotone and unimpressed. 

“Come on, it’s a style,” you insisted. 

“He’s wearing a beanie and flannel and we live in Southern California,” Alex stated plainly. 

“Maybe he runs cold?”

“He’s dressed like a lumberjack!” She said again, but more forcefully this time. “Look, just because you’re desperate for a deep dicking doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be picky.” 

“I’m not desperate,” you pouted, looking at her from the corner of your eye. 

“Whatever, go grab a drink, maybe you’ll meet someone at the bar,” Alex suggested. “I’ll keep a lookout here.” 

Nodding, you pushed your way through the crowd which was growing in size and volume as the band began to do a quick sound check before starting their set. The bar was thankfully not as packed at the moment as you expected it to be. A quick flash of a smile, and the bartender attended to you almost immediately. You leaned over the bar top, knowing well that you were putting your figure on display. Someone would be bound to notice. No sooner than the bartender returned with your beer, did someone approach you. 

“Stella,” the man said, pointing to your beer that matched his own. His voice was deep and rich, like liquid velvet undulating from his throat, “Good choice.”

He was a little taller than average, with warm brown hair, and brown eyes that glimmered with mischief. His broad, defined shoulders, arms, and lithe waist were accentuated by a grayish-blue Henley t-shirt with all, but the last button undone. His indigo-colored jeans hugged his legs in a way that begged you to look at them, taunting you to think about what might be underneath. His face was rugged and handsome, marked by a prominent nose at its center, the kind you’d see on the statue of a Greek god. He wore a mustache above pouty lips that led to a sparse, but well-groomed beard that emphasized the chiseled angle of his jawline. 

It was difficult not to stare as he licked his lips before curling them into a sinful grin. You brought your bottle to your lips for another swig of beer and then slowly moved your gaze from his lips, over the landscape of his face until they rested on his eyes. With one long thumb, he smoothed his bottom lip as his eyes studied your lips, your face, and your eyes in turn. 

“I’m Pedro,” he said with an accented vibrato, rolling the r of his name with the tip of his tongue. 

He paused for a moment looking almost embarrassed and laughed as he tapped three fingers to his lips, “Look, I’m actually terrible at flirting. I was just minding my own business trying to have a drink and then I just got so distracted…looking at you.” 

Against your better judgment a laugh escaped you, one that quickly faded away the moment Pedro stared directly into your eyes, then to your lips, and back to your eyes once again. 

What a line! You thought to yourself. Wonder what Dieter would think of this guy. 

You swatted the thought from your head, frustrated that Dieter was still occupying your mind even though he’d been away filming for nearly three months. 

Your attention turned back to Pedro, thinking of how he wrapped his own name in a Spanish accent that melted into perfect, unaccented English. You brushed your fingertips across the bar top as you turned to fully face him, taking one step towards him. He took the hand you held out to introduce yourself, but not before shamelessly looking up and down the length of your body. 

“You’re not from here, are you?” you asked, biting lightly on your bottom lip. “I thought I heard a little bit of an accent.”

“Well, I was born in Chile, so that’s probably what you heard,” he replied leaning forward as the sounds from the band and the crowd grew louder. 

“I’ve always wanted to learn Spanish,” you said, taking yet another step forward, close enough to breath him in. It was an inexplicably intoxicating smell that reminded you of falling rain in an evergreen forest and really good coffee.

At that same time, the band announced the beginning of their set with a loud riff of a guitar and the theater erupted in chest pounding noise. Pedro placed a hand to his ear and shook his head as he gestured to the band. Simply taking this as an invitation to bring your body close to his. Setting a gentle touch to his forearm, you stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against the side of his face, feeling his fine stubble prickle against your skin, until you were whispering in his ear. 

“Sorry, I just said ‘I have always wanted to learn Spanish’,” you could feel his chest quiver in an exhale as you breathed those words into his ears.

“Dios mio, que rico hueles,” he said in a whispered growl. 

You didn’t know what it meant, but from the way his hand was gripping low on your hip you knew it had to be something good. Clearing your throat, you moved your face from his with disappointment. Instantly, the whooping of the crowd, the drums, the bassline, and the guitars were cacophonous to your ears. 

“Maybe you could give me a lesson some time?” 

“Oh, querida,” he said leaning into you, so that your back pressed against the bar, “I live across the street.” 

“Well, Pedro from across the street,” you said, running your fingertips along the hem of his Henley, “wanna get out of here?”

Pulling him close by one of his belt loops, you drew an invisible pathway with the tip of your nose from his jawline to his lips. Your lips followed the path until they met his with a small peck. He moved to take hold of your hand and you allowed it, even interlacing your fingers with his as he led you away from the bar. As you navigated towards the exit, Alex spotted you. A look of bewilderment had overtaken her face. She grabbed your arm protectively. 

“Hey,” she said, pulling you close to her, “where are you going?” 

Her eyes shifted to Pedro with concern and then back to you. 

“Hey Alex, this is Pedro, he lives across the street!” you added excitedly, gesturing towards Pedro. 

“That’s me,” he added in confirmation, “I do live across the street, the apartments on Wilshire.” 

“Are you nuts? You just met him!” she said, holding her face close to yours.

You looked back at her with a raised brow, “I mean, that was kind of the point of tonight, Alex.”

“Ok, backtrack,” she said quickly, “I just want to make sure you’re cool, he’s cool, and that you’re safe.”

Before you could assure her, he interjected with a slinky grin, “Hey, I promise I’ll keep your girl safe --- I mean, you can even join us if you want if you’re into that.”

After assuring Alex of your safety in multiple ways (giving her Pedro’s address, phone number, and email address, a full plan of your route home and the time she needed to come find you if she couldn’t reach you) she begrudgingly let you go. His apartment was only a few blocks from the theater, and you marveled at the modern and well-appointed amenities. 

“Wow…this place is really nice,” you expressed in awe. “How do you---?”

“Ohh, I have a roommate,” he answered with a shrug. 

You weren’t convinced of his answer and decided that he must be a trust fund baby like yourself or that he had a sugar mama. The secrecy wasn’t enough to get you to leave, when you could just tell by the way he moved you would be in for a good night. You followed him upstairs after he keyed into his building, a short trip to the second floor. With each step upwards, your pussy clenched in anticipation of him. 

He pressed his back against his apartment door, his eyes glued to you as he made a show of unlocking and opening it. A quick flick of the light switch illuminated the space with mood lighting in shades lavender, blue, and coral. Absolutely cheesy, yet effective. You might have laughed but he pulled you to him with the velocity of a cheetah, attaching his hungry mouth to yours. 

He pushed you against the door, lifting your delicate shirt over your head before removing his own, tossing them both to the floor. His large hands framed your face. The grip of his arms was strong and sure, but his touch was sensual and soft against your skin. His right hand grazed the surface of your neck until they traveled down your clavicle down to the center of your chest. Two fingers traced where your breast met the cup of your bustier until he cupped it with his hand. With his thumb, index, and middle finger he massaged, flicked, and twisted at your nipples. The shivers kept building just from the touch of his fingers on your nipples, moans escaping from your lips. He squatted and wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up so you could wrap your legs around him. 

With a heady excitement, it felt like you were floating as he carried you to the kitchen island. You set down your phone next to you and shoved mail, magazines, and errant cups to the floor as he helped you onto the island. His hands massaged up your thighs, beckoning more of your arousal to settle into your underwear. He kissed you again, but deeper, his tongue swirling and undulating in your mouth, desperate for you. Pushing you further up the island, his hands coaxed you into lowering your head down to the cool marble surface. Slowly, he pulled your miniskirt from your hips. 

“Pedro, wait…wait,” you moaned, attempting to catch your breath, “what about your roommate?”

Using his steady hands, he pulled your lacy black underwear from you, and you felt the cool touch of the marble beneath your ass. 

“If he finds us, let him find us,” he said in between planting wet kisses up your thighs and then added, “but don’t worry he won’t be home for a little while.” 

You couldn’t explain, but you could somehow feel the grin that had formed on his lips as he crept closer and closer to your center. A gasp freed itself from the confines of your throat as he licked a long, slow, and deliciously measured stripe up the center of your folds. He swirled his tongue at your center in broad circles, leaving you moaning when he paused only to lick up your folds just as he did before.

“Oh, god, Pedro,” you gasped quietly, holding the back of your hand over your lips as if it would stifle your moan. 

“I told you,” his tongue lavished at your center once again, “he’s not home, so you’ll be able to scream as loud as you want every time, I make you come.” 

He darted in and out of you at the last few words he uttered, and you yelped in pleasure at every single one. A slow drip of saliva left his mouth to your clit and his mouth found its home there for the next few minutes, sucking it and undulating his tongue slowly, then quickly, and then slowly again. With each move of his tongue and mouth, he brought you closer and closer to the precipice of ecstasy. Your hips involuntarily bucked towards his face, pressing his nose closer to your clit only making you moan again. Wrapping his arms around your thighs he gripped you tightly and pulled your hips closer to his face until he buried his tongue deep within you, shaking his head back and forth as he fucked you unrelentingly with his broad tongue. 

And true to his word, he made you wail, louder and louder with each taste he took of you. 

“Tú sabes bien,” he groaned at your center, as he pushed into you with two long, thick fingers. 

“Fuuuuck! Ohmygod, Pedro!” you moaned through desperate gasps of air as he continued to suck at your clit while pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

“That’s it, cariño,” he praised, “you’re so tight, think you can take a third finger?”

It wasn’t a real question, not one that he needed an answer to and not one that you needed to answer. Just banter, just a tease before he eased another into your throbbing core. A fire was beginning to kindle in your abdomen, and you could feel yourself slowly beginning to quiver involuntarily. All you could hear was the obscene sounds that were Pedro’s deep, wanton, and wet moans. He knew you were close and took so much pleasure in bringing closer and closer to the edge. 

Suddenly the repetitive, shrill ring of your cell phone broke the air. Pedro continued moving his fingers in and out of you, grabbing your phone with his free hand. A disappointed cry left you as his mouth left you. 

“Who is Die-ter?” He licked into you again, his breath and voice vibrating against your core and even though you desperately wanted to answer him, all you could do was gasp and moan. 

“Hey, yeah, hermano, she can’t come to the phone right now,” you heard him say, your eyes opening in shock with the realization that he had answered the call, “I’m about to give her the best orgasm of her life.”

You heard him set your phone down as he curled his fingers like he was beckoning you to move to him and his tongue found his way to your clit again, circling and flicking at you without respite until you were arching your back and crying out from your release, your thighs shaking around his head. 

As you came down from your high, the ethereal glow of the mood lighting added to the floating feeling that wrapped around your body. 

“Need some water, querida?” He asked as he walked towards a kitchen cabinet grabbing a glass. 

You nodded dreamily and took Pedro’s hand when he offered it to you, helping you to sit up. He handed you the freshly poured glass of water and you sipped it, keeping your eyes on him. When you set it down, he pulled you off the kitchen island, tracing a line from your neck to your lips with his tongue. He pulled your bustier off you, leaving your body bare, flushed, and ready for him. 

“So, cariño,” he growled as he took your hand, leading it to dip into his unzipped jeans, where you cupped your hand firmly around his cock and then his balls, “wanna fuck?”

The answer was obvious, you could feel it in the perk of your nipples and as you began to drip with desire again. You nodded in confirmation and let Pedro lead you towards his room, making the conscious decision to leave your phone in the kitchen. 

Maybe you’d call Dieter tomorrow. Just maybe. 

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #the bubble #Pedro across the street #PATS x Reader #smut writers #smut #juice bar collective #juice collective

[the-blind-assassin-12]

a drabble a day based on this prompt list by @creativepromptsforwriting

1- Fairytale - Asteria (Ezra x OC Clara - PoNR universe) 2- Garden Hose - Dirty Work (Francisco Morales x Female Reader) 3- Fruit Stand - First Taste (Oberyn Martell x Female Reader)  4- Radio - Last One (Javi Peña x Female Reader)  5- Block Party - Cover to Score (Pedro Across the Street x Female Reader - The Long Con universe)  6- Tattoo - Vena Amoris (Dieter Bravo x Female Reader - A Bad Idea universe)  7- Ice Cream - Vacation Rules (Din Djarin x Female Reader - Mando needs a break universe)  8- Postcard - Not Like Him (Francisco Morales x Female Reader) 9- Festival - Sweet Smoke (Marcus Pike x Female Reader - Third Time’s the Charm universe)  10- Skating - Lifesaver (Javi G x Female Reader)  11- Barefoot & 12- Night Walks - Under the Dornish Moon (Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand, Oberyn Martell x Female Reader - Aphelion universe - written by @something-tofightfor​) // Under the Dornish Moon: Ellaria’s POV - written by @the-blind-assassin-12​ 13- Pride - Out Loud & On Purpose (Dieter Bravo x Female Reader - A Bad Idea universe)   14- Fries & 30 - Peaches - Back on Your Feet (Francisco Morales x Female Reader) 15- Stream - The Romantic Type (Joel Miller x Female Reader one shot - inspired by art created by @stealyourblorbos​)  16- Flower Crown & 25- Midsummer - What Fools (Dieter Bravo x Female Reader - Bad Idea universe) 17- Outdoors - When Land Touched the Sea (Ezra x Female Reader - Angelfish universe)  18- Cocktail Umbrellas & 19- Playing Cards - Counting On It (Pedro Across the Street x Female Reader - The Long Con Universe)  20- Sailboat - The Places Where I Missed You Most (Nico x Female Reader - A Clumsy Romance universe) 21- Karaoke - Happiness Looks Good On You (Marcus Pike x Female Reader - Third Time’s the Charm universe) 22- Dandelions - Birthday Wishes (Joel & Ellie flashback - set in Survivor Blues but could be stand alone)  23- Buttons & 24- Pearls - Frowned Upon (Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Female Reader - Recall universe)  26- Universe & 27- Neon Sign - Oracle:Sybil (Ezra x Female Reader - Soulmates AU) 28- Dragonfly - Skimming the Surface (Pedro Across the Street (Calls) x Female Reader - The Long Con universe)  29- Birch Tree - Bare Branches (Nico x Female Reader - A Clumsy Romance universe) 

#june drabbles 2022 #june drabbles 2022 masterlist #one word prompt challenge #pedro pascal characters #ezra (prospect) #frankie morales #oberyn martell #din djarin #javi peña #dieter bravo #marcus pike #joel miller #nico (house comes with a bird) #jack daniels #pedro across the street #javi gutierrez

[thirstworldproblemss]

Hey!! Wanted to recommend a few of my faves!

Starting with my bestie @wheresarizona and her lovely Learning to Live series, it’s a soft Javi series that is so sweet and hawt as hell. ♥️

My literal wife @foli-vora - she wrote a gorgeous Signs au with Frankie that had me in literal tears, it’s call Still of the Night

Going to just give you all of @frannyzooey ‘s Masterlist because she’s one of the first people I met on here- so encouraging and sweet and disgustingly talented, her TMTC series is humbling it’s so good. ♥️

And finally @oonajaeadira, she’s wildly sweet, and her series Good Things Take Time had a chokehold on me, Pedro (across the street) as a masseuse? Sign me the fuck up.

There are so many talented creators on here I wish I could fit them all into one post, thanks for accepting recs ♥️♥️♥️

Favorite Fanworks Fic & Author Recs:

Learning to Live by @wheresarizona​  [Narcos: Javi x f reader, ongoing series]

Still of the Night by @foli-vora  [Triple Frontier Signs!AU: Frankie x f reader, complete]

Take Me to Church (& the rest of her masterlist) by @frannyzooey [The Madalorian OldWest!AU: Din x f reader (x ofc), complete series]

Good Things Take Time by @oonajaeadira  [Calls AU: massage therapist Pedro Across the Street x f reader, ongoing series]

(Last Day to send in a rec for twp’s “Show Me the Fanworks!” Celebration)

Ooooh!  I already love the last three of these, and can hardly wait to get started on Learning to Live—it’s come very highly recommended!!  Thank you for the lovely recs, Jules!!  

🧡 twp

[Edited to Add: All recs now compiled on the Fav Fanworks Rec List]

#fav fanworks rec ask #javier peña #frankie morales #din djarin #pedro across the street #javier peña x reader #frankie morales x reader #din djarin x reader #pedro across the street x reader #wheresarizona #foli.vora #frannyzooey #oonajaeadira #twp's show me the fanworks celebration #juletheghoul.main #juletheghoul

[allfoolsinluv]

In 2022, I read an ungodly amount of fanfic haha. Not only has it been my favorite way to escape from real life, but it also brought me into the orbit of some really cool people, and I'm glad I got to spend part of my year joining this neat little community 🥰 I thought it would be fun to put together a list of some of my favorite fics from this year! This is by no means a completely comprehensive list, but if you'd like to see all of the fics I've read & loved this year, you can check out my full fic rec tag! So, without further ado, here are some of my favorite fics of 2022 😄

SERIES

Lie to Me by @iamskyereads

Ahhh such a good fic! I live for Javier & his human lie detector. They have such amazing chemistry together and I love them as a couple, but I also adore how interesting and well-written they both are as individuals. I love reading about them when they're together, but I also love seeing their lives/work when they're not. Also, the political & bureaucratic drama is so entertaining! I love it. Everything about this fic is *chef's kiss* 10/10

The Crush by @the-ginger-hedge-witch

Ok I am, admittedly, a bit behind on this fic (thx life 🙃), but it is not an exaggeration when I say that I think about this fic all the time. Javi & Isa have occupied their own little part of my brain since part 1. This fic is beautifully crafted and I love how well all of the elements come together in this story. The "forbidden" love, the small-town dynamics, the strained family relationships... ugh, this fic really has everything. I can't wait to catch up on it!

Learning to Live by @wheresarizona

JAVI & CIELITO MY BELOVEDS. Omg these two just melt my heart. I love their love!! It's so nice to see Javi getting the happy, love-filled life he deserves post-Colombia. These two were meant for each other and I have a dopey smile on my face every time I read about them 🥰

Irredeemable by @joels6string

Oh my god the emotional ROLLERCOASTER this series has put me through... so worth it lol. This fic is so well-written, I love it so much. The plot is incredible--truly an unconventional love story, but one I found myself quickly hooked into because of the characters. Dieter & Poppy really are the shining stars of this fic. They're real and raw and flawed and imperfect but that's what makes them so good. I love them & I love this fic

Everything and More by @dincrypt

The way this fic makes me want to quit my job & find myself a rich sugar daddy LOL. Just kidding (mostly 😉). Ugh I love this fic so much. The evolution of Din & Sweetheart's relationship is my favorite part of it. It flows so naturally and feels so realistic. I am a sucker for the pain of "idiots in love who don't realize the other person is also in love with them" and boy does this fic DELIVER on that lol. Din & Sweetheart are forever on my mind and I can't wait to see how their relationship progresses next!

Sunshine On a Cloudy Day by @pedrito-friskito

Oh my Frankie 🥺 This fic melted me into a PUDDLE. Such a sweet love story. I love how they progress from friends to lovers. How she stood firm in her decision to not be with Frankie if he wasn't going to be clean. How he worked on himself & got clean because he knew she'd be worth it. And seeing them grow their little family 😭 I love them I love them I love them

Funny Girl by @radiowallet

I cannot mention Cat in this list without absolutely gushing over how much I adore her prose. The way she writes is so beautiful and so elegant without falling into purple prose. I feel like I'm gliding every time I read something of hers, and Funny Girl was no exception. I loved this fic with my whole entire heart. The build-up to Dieter & Funny Girl getting together was intense but so worth it. Their characterizations were phenomenal. The ending was so bittersweet, I still think about it months later. Truly one of my favorite--and one of the best, honestly--fics I have ever read.

GOOD. THINGS. TAKE. TIME. by @oonajaeadira

I know the original GTTT was posted last year, but I discovered it in March or April (I can't remember lol) of this year and absolutely devoured it. I love how Adira has taken such a small character from one episode of a TV show and turned him into a compelling & complex one. PATS from Calls no longer exists to me, there is only PATS from GTTT lol. I love the progression of his & Preciosa's relationship throughout this series. It feels so real and I just love how they've grown into their relationship over time.

Celestial Navigation by @write-and-buried

Oh how I absolutely adored this series. I'm a sucker for coffee shop AUs, soulmates, and Dieter Bravo, so this fic really had everything for me 😌 I loved the opposites attract feel of this fic, and how in the end it turned out that they really weren't all that different after all. I love how supportive Dieter was of her and how he really gave her the space to grow into her own. And how he wasn't pushy with her when it came to their relationship, he let her guide the pace and come to him naturally. Literally perfect for each other, these two 🥺😭

Locked Down by @something-tofightfor

Another fic that I am a little behind on but holds a dear place in my heart 💗 I just adore these two. I love how their relationship blossomed from friends to lovers to actually being together. I love how he waited for her to be ready to admit that their relationship would work, even if they were apart. How thoughtful Dieter is in this fic makes me swoon. THE RING gets me every time I think about it 🥺

Love Triangles by @littlemisspascal

Oh my GOD this was one of the cutest fics I have ever read! I loved the atmosphere of this fic, and I thought it was so creative how the cast of The Bubble were all tenants in the same apartment building. The Disney nicknames were so adorable 🥺😭 I loved the slow burn of this fic--it made Dieter & Lady finally getting together that much sweeter 💗

Click here for part 2, a list of some of my favorite one-shots that I read in 2022!

#fic rec #javier peña x reader #dieter bravo x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro across the street x reader

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Welcome to Written in the Stars: A Pedro Boys Compatibility Test!

(A joint venture of @furious-rogue-stuff and @just-here-for-the-moment)

As of May 24, 2022: Requests are temporarily on hold while we work through our list of Asks! 🔮😍🌟

Thank you so much to everyone who is playing along with us, and thank you for your patience as we craft more Horoscopes for you and your beloved Pedro boys!

We thought it might be fun to pinpoint the Zodiac sign of some of our favorite P characters, and invite you to play along! If you send an ask to @just-here-for-the-moment (or an Anon Ask to @furious-rogue-stuff) we will provide a brief 3-4 sentence love/sex/romance horoscope for you and the P character of your choice!

Details are below!

Please check the Masterlist/Answers so far before you send your Ask, to avoid duplicates!

In your Ask, please include the following: Areas you're most interested in finding out about... Love Romance Sex Initial attraction Long-term relationship

Your Zodiac sign... Aquarius Pisces Aries Taurus Gemini Cancer Leo Virgo Libra Scorpio Sagittarius Capricorn

Which Pedro character you want to be matched with... Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes) Pero Tovar (The Great Wall) Nico (House Comes With a Bird) Mando/Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) Max Phillips (Bloodsucking Bastards) Dave York (Equalizer 2) Eddie (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) Ezra (Prospect) Oberyn Martell (Game of Thrones) Javier Peña (Narcos) Marcus Pike (The Mentalist) Pedro from Across the Street (Apple TV: Calls) The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) Frankie "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier) Dieter Bravo (The Bubble) Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman: 1984) Agent Jack "Whiskey" Daniels (Kingsman 2: The Golden Circle) Javier Gutierrez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

#written in the stars horoscope game #pedro pascal characters x you #pedro pascal character x you #marcus moreno x you #pero tovar x you #nico house comes with a bird x you #mando x you #din djarin x you #max phillips x you #dave york x you #eddie from buffy x you #ezra prospect x you #oberyn martell x you #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #marcus pike x you #pedro across the street x you #the thief casillero del diablo x you #casillero del diablo #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales x you #dieter bravo x you #maxwell lord x you #jack whiskey daniels x you #agent whiskey x you #agent jack whiskey daniels x you #javier gutierrez x you #javi g x you

[oonajaeadira]

FLUFFBRUARY 2: engagement | scent | jam (PATS)

ADIRA'S SELF-IMPOSED FLUFFBRUARY RULES:

Six sentences.

Must be fluffy.

All 29 ficlets must feature a different Pedro.

All three words must be used (Fluffbruary prompt list here).

Use the words in order.

I reserve the right to break rules and/or cheat.

Eggs, pastries, coffee, tea…just waiting on the toast.

Standing in the kitchen, Patricio’s mind wanders–beyond the breakfast he’s working on, beyond the apron covering his bare bits and pieces, beyond the butter melting on the waffles–to you, asleep in his bed upstairs.

And he finds himself staring at his hands.

He wouldn’t be able to wear a ring if he had an engagement…er…a client, but maybe there could be an alternative…maybe on a chain around his neck?

There’s a squeak from above, the bathroom door he needs to oil–the scent of the coffee must have woken you–and he’s back to the task at hand, plenty of time to think about the little details later.

When the toast pops up he adds it to the tray next to your favorite jam and takes the whole production upstairs, apron included…he knows getting to take it off him is your favorite part....

___

@fluffbruary

FLUFFBRUARY MASTERLIST

#fluffbruary #six sentence ficlet #calls fanfic - apple TV #pedro across the street #good things take time

[dare-g]

Night Across the Street (2012)

#night across the street #raul ruiz #sergio hernandez #christian vadim #valentina vargas #pedro vicuna #chamila rodriguez #talks

[crimsonheart01]

Saturday May 14, 2022

Apologies for the radio silence last Saturday. It was a big week for me. I quit my job of 13 years. I was poached by a competitor and offered an amazing new opportunity, so I was busy not reading. however, I made up for my lack of reading last week for ALL the reading this week.

If you read any of the stories on this lists, please make sure to show love to the authors by liking and reblogging their content!

A reminder to everyone that my blog houses 21+ content. This post isn’t any different. I’m not adding in the specific tags or warnings for each rec here but know that they can house adult content as well.

✨ If you are under 21, please DNI.✨

1.  In The Dark by @frannyzooey​​

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader

I adored the tension and pining in this fic. It was lovely. I can still feel my heart beating out of my chest at these two sneaking a few minutes together in the crowded bookshop. Phew, babes. I’m still sweating from the preciously perfect anxiety! I also love the way you’ve captured Ezra’s easy going personality, the way he’s absloutely comfortable no matter what, even when he’s feeling high strung. Ugh, beautiful, perfection!

2.  Partners In Crime by @mandosmistress​​

Pairing: Pedro Across the Street x Fem!Reader

HOLY SHIT WOW OH MY GAWD! Everyone needs to read this. E V E R Y O N E. You don’t even need to care about the fandom or Pedro Pascal. JUST FUCKING READ THIS. The dynamic, the story, the plot, the S E X! Oh gawd, everything about this is amazing. I blew through this the second I found and I’m going back again this weekend. It’s too good. I would pay the good monies for this. Go read it. Seriously, READ IT.

3.  Everything and More by @dincrypt​​

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

THIS SERIES HAS BROKEN ME. ITS CHANGED ME. ITS MADE ME YEARN IN WAYS I DIDN’T KNOW I NEEDED. I’ve always been pro sugar daddy, but jheeeeezzeeeeeeeeee babes. Din is a Daddy with a capital D. I’m literally hanging on by the thinest thread for the next update. I might die of a coronary just waiting. The slow burn, the work up, the everything. You’ve weaved absolute magic with this story. A DADDY ON THIS LEVEL! It’s what we all need and deserve! I can’t wait to find out the twists you definitely have coming our way. Learning about Din at the same pace as our reader is anxiety inducing BUT SO MUCH FUN AT THE SAME TIME!

4.  Another Way by @theewokingdead​

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

I haven’t finished this series yet, but it is absolutely lovely. I love the give and take between our reader and Din. Watching their relationship grow, form and develop has been wonderful. I love this take on the whole situation Din has been dealt and the way that they’re so into each other but hesitant at the same time. I can’t wait to finish this series and see where you take them. I love these two with my whole heart, I really do!!!

5.  This Oneshot by @menofchaos​

Pairing: Coco Cruz x Fem!Reader

MAYANS F A M I L Y!!!!!! Ahhhhh, it’s been so long since I’ve read anything Mayans related and I’m so glad that this was the oneshot that I got to dip my toes back into the water with. I have 0 idea of what’s happening in the show currently, but to me, this captured everything I needed to know. The stress, the search, the violence, THE LOVE! Coco is my soft, sad boy and I love that in this he’s worried about the reader. He just wants her to be safe, regardless of anything going on between them. I adored this. 

#crims fic recs #may 14 2022 #ezra prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #din djarin #pedro across the street x reader #pats #coco cruz #mayans #mayans mc

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

time

Summary: Not wanting to face Joel after you found out that you're pregnant, you leave the Boston QZ to live with Bill and Frank. Almost four years pass before you can't hide from him anymore, letting him finally know why you ran from him all these years back.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 6.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy, secret pregnancy, secrets, fluff, trust issues, Joel being Joel, making up, kissing, age gap (not specified but it's around 15 years), smut (unprotected sex), mentions of alcohol, Joel really is bad at feelings, but he's trying, Girl Dad Joel Miller, happy end

A/N: if these two had a relationship status it would be "it's complicated" Another WiP done! So now I am allowed to think about Biker Raider Joel for a moment, right?

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Pedro Masterlist || Joel Masterlist || Main Masterlist

“You know you’ll have to face him at some point,” Frank had a fond smile on his lips as he sat in his wheelchair next to you. He was watching Bill who let himself chase across the yard of his picture perfect post apocalypse home. 

Nobody would expect that just down the street, outside of the fence the world as you knew it had ended. 

“I know,” you sighed. 

“He asks for you every time he’s here. If we had seen you, if we knew where you are. He’s gonna understand,” Frank said and you scoffed. 

“He’s not gonna care. He has Tess and… he’s not…” you shook your head, searching for the words, “he’s not the man I fell in love with.”

“We all can change,” Frank said, reaching over to squeeze your hand. 

“Bill is the best example for that. Could you have imagined him like that when you showed up here three years ago?”

You watched Bill play with your daughter, Ava, playing catch. 

“Joel is not like that. He was like that. Before. But that part of him died long ago.”

You sat in silence for a while, just watching Bill and Ava, trying to soak it all in. It would never be like that again and you were already dreading having to explain all of this to her. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered, fighting against the tears as you looked at Frank. He smiled softly at you before he came closer, kissing your forehead. 

Four years earlier

You knew he could tell when you were lying. He would know with one look at you that you were full of shit telling him that this was not working for you anymore. Whatever this between you was.

Joel and you had known each other since before the outbreak. You had started babysitting Sarah to earn some extra money while you were finishing you degree when she had just been nine years old and you had moved in next door.

You had been there on outbreak day. Next door, still living at home to take care of your sick father. You would never get the picture of his infected body lunging at you out of your head the night the world changed. 

You and Joel… You didn’t know what Joel and you were exactly. 

You loved Joel, you knew that. And you were pretty sure he loved you too. You just wanted… more. Most people did not allow themselves to love so openly anymore. And in Joel’s case? Losing Sarah had changed him. After fifteen years the man who had been Sarah’s father was gone, replaced by a man that still had his face, but was missing the warmth and comfort Joel Miller had once provided. 

You could see it in glimpses, whenever his hand would rest on your back when he passed by. When he fell asleep in your arms deep in the night. When he kissed your forehead before he headed out for work. 

Loving Joel Miller was easy. 

Being loved by him was close to impossible. 

You never really labelled your relationship, mostly because you did not think of it as important. You trusted him more than any other person on this planet. It’s why you ignored the way he had started looking at Tess. It’s why you did not question him when he stayed away at night. You ignored it all, opening your arms for him when he chose to come home to you, letting him in your bed just to feel close to him. To feel something. 

The jealousy was killing you slowly, making you reckless when you let him have his way with your body. 

But once you had missed your period the first month, and then the second, you knew that there was only one possible answer to your dilemma. You had never been late before. A ration card swapped for a twenty year old pregnancy test had your worst fears come true. 

You were pregnant with Joel Miller’s child. 

Fifteen years after you both buried his daughter. The daughter he never got over losing. 

You could already see his reaction. The eyes you loved so much empty before he would tell you to deal with it. 

You could not face his anger or disappointment, but mostly you could not face him not caring. So you packed your little belongings once he had left you in the morning, sneaking out of your bed without a word.

You did not leave a note, just fled the QZ, making your way over to Bill and Frank, hoping your friendship with Frank would make them take you in. 

Of course Bill hadn’t want to, but once he saw your stomach swell (and tasted the sweets you baked in his kitchen) he had put all his work into making the house next door into your home. 

“Mama, can we go get Strawbebbies?” you chuckled, holding her hand as you walked with her on your daily walk by the fence. 

“Strawberries, baby,” you tried to correct her. Ava pouted at you, her dark curls swinging in the wind, her brown eyes so much like her fathers. 

“That’s what I said!” she put her little hands on her hips and you smiled. 

She was definitely her father’s daughter.

“Okay, baby. Let’s get some Strawbebbies,” you picked her up, making her shriek with laughter. Once again you were glad you made the decision to come here. She could grow up like a child was supposed to. 

Even though now that Bill and Frank were gone it was getting kind of lonely. You had all enjoyed a last dinner together before Bill and Frank had tucked Ava in for one last time and read her a story. 

You had tried to keep the tears at bay as Bill had reminded you of the folder full of instructions of how to take care of things around here for you. 

After dinner you had walked them to the gate, opening the fence for them as they took their last walk. You had watched them until they had disappeared into the dark woods before you made your way back to their house. You had cleaned the dishes and tidied everything up, before with a heavy heart, you had turned off all the lights and closed the door behind you before you walked to your house, allowing yourself to cry yourself to sleep as you sat on the floor next to the bed of your daughter, watching her sleep. 

That night was almost three months ago. The days were getting shorter, the nights colder. You’d have enough firewood for this winter but come spring you would have to find a way to make more. 

You had just finished making breakfast for Ava when the motion detector alarmed you that someone was at the gate. You froze, telling Ava to eat her fruit salad before you made your way downstairs to check out what was happening. 

Your heart was pounding against your chest, once you noticed his face. 

Joel Miller. 

And a…. Teenage girl?

The gate swung open after he put in the code and you allowed yourself fifteen seconds to panic. You knew this day would come. The day after Bill and Frank had gone you had checked the basement, finding that Bill had put on 80’s music, the distress signal. 

Even though you had turned it off immediately deep down you knew he would show up at some point. 

You just did not think it would be that soon. 

You grabbed your gun, checking if it was loaded before you made your way back upstairs. You did not think you would need it, but it was better to be prepared. 

“Ava? Remember when Uncle Bill played hide and seek with you and showed you the best place to hide?” you asked, hiding the gun in the back of your jeans as you got to your kitchen. She nodded. 

“I want you to hide there until I come and get you,” you said. 

“Hide?” she asked. You nodded, kissing her cheek. 

“Take Sluggi with you,” you smiled. Sluggi was the stuffed plush slug Bill had gotten for her. She nodded and ran out of the kitchen and upstairs, You heard her door to her room close and took a deep breath, calming yourself. 

You knew this day would come. You knew one day you would have to face Joel Miller and you knew you would have to face his reaction. 

You never regretted your decision to leave. Life has definitely been better here. That did not mean you had just stopped loving him, no matter how much he had hurt you in the past. 

Stepping towards your front door you could see him walk towards Bill and Frank’s house. 

You closed your eyes, taking a calming breath before you opened the door and stepped out. 

His head snapped towards you once he heard the door opening, eyes widening for a split second before he pulled the girl that was with him behind his back. 

He was protecting her. 

“What are you doing here? Where are Bill and Frank?” he asked, his voice low. 

“They’re dead. Frank got worse and… he couldn’t…” you shook your head, lost of words. He just looked at you before he shook his head, trying to put in words what he wanted. 

“I just… We need some…” he took a deep breath, looking up at you, a million emotions playing over his face. 

“Are you hungry?” you asked the girl behind him. 

“Starving,” she replied and you smiled a little.

“There’s some fruit salad left on the kitchen counter if you want?” you asked. She stepped around Joel and he looked at her. 

“It’s safe. There’s… there’s no one there,” you lied. He gave her a nod before she walked past you into your home. 

It had been years since you’ve been alone with him. He did not really change. His hair maybe a little grayer, the lines around his mouth a little deeper, but he was still Joel Miller. 

“You left,” he said. 

“I did.”

“Why?”

You took a deep breath. You looked past him towards the house the girl had walked in, hoping your little girl continued to hide. Knowing her she had was working on her puzzle. She would be okay for a moment. 

You knew she was safe. You just needed a little moment alone. 

“You can have some fruit salad too. I am going to get some vegetables for dinner,“ you gave him a nod, before you turned around and walked towards your garden, ignoring him as he called after you. 

With a basket full of salad, cucumbers and some tomatoes you pushed the door of your house open. Joel was sitting on the stairs, across the door, already looking at you. 

The girl walked past the both of you towards the living room, an apple in her hand she was munching on. 

„This is so fucking weird,“ she shook her head and you snorted while Joel hissed at her. 

„What? It is weird,“ she said, her head turned towards him. 

You smiled a little as you looked at her, before you walked towards the kitchen, setting the basket down. You had to go up to check on Ava. 

And you had to talk to Joel.

You couldn’t hide her from him, even though you wanted to do nothing more than that. 

You took a deep breath when he walked into the kitchen. 

„Is it okay if Ellie takes a shower?“ He asked, knowing that there was warm water around town. 

„That’s her name. Ellie,“ he clarified.

„Oh. Of course, yeah,“ you nodded and Ellie walked in, snorting as she looked up at Joel. 

„You could use one too dude,“ she said and you had to fight hard against the grin as you watched the look on Joel’s face. 

You were about to offer her to show her to the bathroom when you heard a door upstairs click open, followed from little footsteps, your eyes widening. Joel frowned, his hand immediately searching for his gun, his arm putting Ellie behind himself. 

He raised his gun, taking a step forward as you ran around the counter, the knife you had put out to cut the salad now in your hand. 

„Gun down,“ you hissed and his head snapped to you, his eyes widening when he saw the knife in your hand. You stood in front of him. 

„I will not repeat myself, put the gun down, right now or I will put this knife in your thigh,“ you fingers flexed around the handle of the knife. The footsteps came closer as you kept eye contact with Joel until he slowly lowered his gun. You nodded at him once you saw him put the gun back to wherever it came from, then looked at Ellie who was looking at you with wide eyes, before you let the knife fall down to the floor just in time as Ava jumped the last step down, rounding the corner. 

„Potty?“ She whispered shyly, looking up at you with big eyes and you sighed, before you nodded, the people behind you forgotten as you picked your daughter up. You risked a glance at Joel as you turned towards the stairs, your daughter in your arms.

His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, before you practically ran up the stairs. 

„Who is the man mommy?“ Ava asked as she was finished, washing her hands like you taught her, making as many bubbles as possible as she rubbed her hands together. 

You sucked your bottom lip in as you watched her, your hand brushing over her soft hair. 

„That is an old Friend of mommy,“ you explained, and she nodded. 

„And the girl?“ She asked. 

„That is a friend of him, I think. I am not sure.“

She finished washing her hands and you handed her the towel, her little face full of concentration as she dried her hands, making you smile.

You got down on your knees in front of her, your hands on her shoulders. 

„Do you think she’s gonna play with me?“ She asked, hopeful.

„We can ask her,“ you said with a smile.

You weren’t prepared for the sight in your kitchen when you came downstairs. Joel was standing at the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled back as he cut the tomatoes with the knife you had threatened with him not only ten minutes ago. 

He didn’t look up as you entered the room, but Ellie did. You looked between them warily. 

„I’m Ava,“ your daughter chirped and you took a deep breath, Joel still not looking up. Ellie looked at him with a frown, before she sighed, rolling her eyes, and walked towards you.

„I’m Ellie,“ she said and smiled a little and bend down to her knees. Ava looked first at her, then at you. 

„Ellie, do you like sea turtles?“ You asked and the girl looked at you. 

„Uh…. I guess?“ She said and you smiled. 

„Because Ava loves them. Her whole room is full of them,“ you said and saw interest flicker in her eyes.

„Can I see?“ Ellie asked and you nodded. 

„You wanna show Ellie your sea turtles?“ You asked Ava and she nodded eagerly. 

„Awesome,“ Ellie said, taking Ava’s hand before you could offer to show them, the girls already walking upstairs towards Ava's room. 

Which left you alone in the kitchen with….

„How old is she?“ Joel asked, still not looking at you as you turned to face him. He grabbed the cucumber after he had used the knife to put the tomatoes in the bowl you had prepared for the salad, beginning to slice them. 

You took a deep breath. 

„She turned three last month,“ you said, watching him nod slowly, the knife hitting the cutting board the only noise in the room. 

„She has my eyes,“ he finally said and you sucked your bottom lip in, nervous. 

„Yeah she has,“ you agreed and he finally looked up at you, setting the knife down, his hands spread out on the counter, resting his whole weight on them. 

„Why didn’t you tell me?“ He asked, his voice quiet. 

„I didn’t know how. Joel…. You were barely acknowledging me outside of when you were inside of me. You spend all your time with Tess doing god knows what. How would you have reacted if I told you that I was pregnant? You never even acknowledged what we…“ you stoped yourself, shaking your head. 

„You should have told me. I could have…“ he stopped himself, searching for what to say and you looked at him, waiting. 

„I could have helped you. I would have….“ He shook his head, his hands shaking. 

„I’m gonna need a moment. Can you watch after Ellie?“ He asked and you nodded, confused and he nodded back before he walked past you and out of the house. 

You just didn’t think it would be almost two days before he got back. You were outside in Bill’s garden, letting the girls help you pick everything that was ready from the garden when you noticed him walk towards the house. 

You knew he was still inside the little locked up town Bill had made his safe haven. None of the alerts had went off, indicating he had left. And yeah you could have searched after him, but what good would it have done?

You’ve known him from almost twenty years, and you knew that he needed time to process certain things. 

He hadn’t talked to anyone in almost a year after the outbreak and what happened to Sarah. 

„Look what the cat dragged in,“ Ellie said as she spotted him and Ava perked up, her little head turning towards where Ellie was looking. 

Joel nodded at the girls before he looked at you. 

The sun was already setting and you had dinner prepared inside. 

„How about we have some dinner and then Ellie can read you some more of the story you started yesterday?“ You asked and both girl smiled at you. Ava ran past Joel who looked after her as she disappeared into the house, Ellie following her. 

„Next time you ditch me, at least tell me?“ She glared at him before she walked back into the house. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. 

„Can we talk?“ He asked. 

„After dinner?“ You said, getting up and grabbing the basked full of fresh vegetables. 

„Yeah. Yeah okay,“ he nodded and you walked towards the house, giving him a hesitant smile when he grabbed the basket from you and walked inside after you. 

It was two hours later that you found yourself on the left corner of your couch, your legs tucked under you, a glass of wine in your hand. 

Because this conversation needed some alcohol. 

And not only because of what you were about to talk about, but because of the man who was sitting on the other side of the couch, similar glass of wine in his hand. 

Because he looked so damn good.

He had showered while you put the girls to bed after dinner, the whole scene feeling so domestic. Like a dream you had many many times before when you were still dreaming. 

Dreaming of a normal future. 

Dreaming of a normal life. 

Dreaming about how it would feel like if Joel Miller loved you back. 

Because no matter how much he may have hurt you in the past, you just could not stop loving him. 

„I’m sorry,“ he whispered after a while and you turned your head to look at him, his eyes already on you. 

„I’m shit at talking about those things….“ He stopped.

„Those things meaning feelings?“ You helped and he groaned. 

„Yeah. Always sucked at it. Even before….“ 

He sighed. 

„Sarah would be so angry with me with how I treated you,“ he whispered and your eyes softened. You could count on one hand how often he had brought Sarah up ever since she died. 

And while you thought you could understand him in the past, you loved her like yours after all, now that you had Ava, you realised that loosing her would kill you. 

It would be something you could never come back from. 

But he did. 

„I never cheated on you. I know you thought I did, can’t blame your for it. Tess was just…. Fuck, how do I explain this?“ He sighed, his fingers rubbing over his chin. 

„I never deserved you. You’re too fucking good for me. For everyone really. Because even after the whole world went to shit, you still had some kindness left for everyone around you. I know how much you hated what we did in the beginning. And I hated myself for putting you through it. I hated myself for putting you through everything I did to you since the moment Sarah died…“ he said and you could see his eyes watering. 

„Can’t blame you for hating me and leaving. And not telling me about….“

„Joel….“ You said, setting your glass down and getting closer towards him, your hand reaching for his. Slowly he turned his hand so you could put yours in it, his fingers wrapping around your hand softly. 

„I’m not gonna lie and tell you that it’s okay. Cause I was hurting. You were hurting me. Every time you left in the morning without a word. Every time you passed out drunk and drugged after you came back. It was like living with a ghost and it was killing me. That was the reason I decided to leave when I found out. I could…. I couldn’t bring a child into this. And I knew I wanted her before I even met her. Even though it seems crazy to bring a child into this world. But… She was half you. And the thought that there was even the possibility that you didn’t wanted her….“ You took a deep breath. 

„Honestly? I can’t tell you how I would have reacted. I was… I was really fucked up in the weeks before you left. I was taking too many drugs. Drank too much. Got too fucking reckless. But that changed when you left,“ he said and squeezed your hand. 

„Not right away. It might have gotten worse first but… I got better. Not perfect, but better. And I… Fuck I even talked through some shit with someone. Made me realise I never even told you how much I love you,“ he said and you were pretty sure you stopped breathing as he looked at you, a small smile tilting his lips up. 

„Pretty sure I fell for you the first time you walked through my door wearing that pretty baby blue dress. Even though you were way too young for me. Still are. But…. I hope you knew, know. I really fucking love you,“ he said and you felt a tear running down your cheek. 

„Can you tell me about her? About Ava?“ He asked before you could form an answer to his confession. And so instead you told him. 

You told him about how you craved strawberries your whole pregnancy. How Bill traded one of his guns for the seeds from Tess.

You told him that she only slept through the night in the beginning, when Bill put her to sleep. 

You told her how much she reminded you of Sarah when she smiled at you. 

You told her how every time you looked at her you saw him. 

Hours went by where you two talked, you ending up leaning against Joel’s side, his arm around you. His fingers brushing over your arm, his other hand still holding yours. His lips brushing over your skin when he told you about how Ellie ended up at in his care. 

How he wanted to take her to Wyoming to search for his brother who might know how to find the fireflies. 

„Do you know where he is?“ You asked and he shrugged. 

„Not exactly. I know he messaged me from the Cody tower, so that’s where we’ll be going,“ he mumbled and you nodded. 

„We could take Bill’s truck,“ you said and he stilled. You looked up at him. 

„We?“ He asked and you chuckled, sitting yourself up so you were facing him, your hand now on his cheek. 

„You really think I’m gonna let you go now?“ You asked with a smile. 

And then you finally kissed him. 

It was decided that you would leave within the next 5 days, giving you enough time to make a list (You always made lists) of everything you had to pack. 

Which was a lot. Getting four people across the country on a trip that hopefully would be just like you remembered road trips to be, took a lot of supplies. 

And while you were preoccupied deciding which food was best to take, Joel had asked you if he could spend some time with Ava. He wanted to get to know her. And of course, you agreed. Watching him, Ellie and Ava walk towards the garage where they spend hours doing god knows what. 

It was almost dark outside when they walked back in, your heart melting as you watched Joel carry a very sleepy Ava inside who told you all about how seatbelts where very scary, something you would make sure to ask Joel about as you took her upstairs, putting her to bed. 

The days went by quickly like that.

Joel quickly became Ava’s favourite person which could have to do with the fact, that she was always allowed to sit on his shoulders. Ellie had been confused, yet delighted at the change in the grumpy man she had left the QZ with. 

He even got his Dad jokes out, making the teenager groan in mock annoyance throughout the day. Ellie also spend a lot of time with you, wanting to learn everything you offered to teach her. Starting from making protein bars for the trip down to how to properly braid her hair. 

Even though she preferred you doing it. 

You got the impression that she never really had anyone how just… listened to her or wanted to spend time with her. She told you she grew up in FEDRA School and that her mother had died while giving birth. 

She had no family and her best friend (though you got the impression Riley had been more than just a friend) had died not that long ago. 

That the only thing she had left in life was her purpose to save the world. Joel had told you that she was immune, Ellie showing you the healed scars to confirm it. 

„You know that that’s not the only thing you have left, right?“ You asked her, sitting on the porch next to her, enjoying one last sunset, watching Joel and Ava play soccer. Her little feet chasing after Joel with happy squeals. 

„What do you mean?“ Ellie asked and you looked at her with a smile. 

„You have us, Ellie. You think we just gonna let you go?“ You asked and she stubbornly shook her head. 

„I have to do this. It’s my purpose. I have to save the world,“ she said and looked away from you. 

„Are you saying this because you feel that way, or because someone told you so?“ You asked and she looked at you. 

„Because it should be your decision what to do and what not. And… think about it, even if they are somehow able to make a cure out of your blood, do you really think they will be able to make enough to make a vaccine for everyone? Who will decide who gets it? And if they end up deciding on giving it to everyone…. There are so many bad people out there. Do they deserve to be saved too?“ You asked and you could see her thinking about your words and you smiled softly at her. 

„Even if you don’t like hearing it, your a kid Ellie. You should grow up and live first before you make a decision like that. You don’t even know how they would get whatever they needed from your blood. If I remember correctly Cordyceps grow in the brain, what if they have to get into your brain to get out whatever they need?“ You said and her eyes widened. 

„But Marlene….“ She whispered and you reached over her, taking her hand. 

„I don’t know how well you know Marlene, but I’ve known her for more than ten years. I know how she manipulates people to get what she wants. You wouldn’t even notice it,“ you said and she sighed. 

„I’m gonna think about it,“ she said finally and you gave her a small smile. 

„That’s all I ask about. Now how about you get upstairs and take one last long hot shower before we are on the road for days?“ You asked and she nodded, standing up and turning away from you to walk inside the house before she turned back to you and hugged you quickly.

After saying good night to Ellie later you walked towards your daughters room, her little suitcase for her toys laying open next to her bed, waiting for Sluggi to be put into the next morning. She was already in bed, Joel sitting on the floor next to her, reading to her. 

You wished you could take a picture of this. Unfortunately the Polaroid camera had broken earlier this year. 

„Mommy!“ A tired Ava smiled as she saw you, her arms raised towards you. Joel looked up and smiled at you as you walked over, climbing into the bed behind your daughter, pulling her into your arms. 

„What story is Joel reading you?“ You asked. 

„The little mermaid,“ she said and you found Joel’s eyes. You had been thinking about it for the last days now. Telling her who Joel really is. He slipped into your life like the missing piece, the man you had fallen in love with all these years back seemingly falling right back into his role as being the best father there ever could be. 

So before you could talk yourself out of it you said

„Your sister loved that one too.“

Joel gulped, his eyes growing sad for a moment, before he looked at Ava. 

„I have a sister?“ She asked you, her eyes big.

„Mmmh…. Her name was Sarah. She watched the movie every single night before she went to bed,“ you explained and Ava pursed her lips in an ooooh motion. 

„There was a movie?“ She asked in awe.

„Oh yeah there was. And a cassette with the music. Can’t remember how often she made me listen to it“ Joel said and smiled softly. 

„Where is Sarah?“ Ava asked and your smile went sad. 

„She’s where Uncle Bill and Uncle Frank are. Watching over us,“ you explained and she hummed. 

„I wish I could hug her,“ she whispered and you nodded, tears in your eyes, squeezing her against your chest, your hand reaching out Joel’s hand finding yours as you kissed her forehead, looking at him who had tears in his eyes. 

„Me too baby. Me too,“ you whispered before taking a deep breath.

„You know Joel is her daddy,“ you finally said and she looked at you. 

„He is?“ She asked and you nodded. 

„I bet he is the best daddy,“ she sighed and you chuckled at Joel’s cheeks turning pink. 

„Yeah he is. What would you say if I tell you that Joel is your daddy too?“ You asked and her big eyes looked at you first and then her head turned towards Joel. 

„My daddy?“ She asked and both you and Joel nodded with a smile, her smile getting wider, before she jawned.

„I always wanted a daddy,“ she whispered before her eyes dropped close. 

You were walking down the stairs to Bill's basement after you showered, finding Joel checking if he could manage to take any more guns. The supplies had all been packed into the truck already, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave anything of value behind. 

He looked up when he heard your footsteps, giving you a small smile. 

Walking over to him you were surprised when he reached for you, pulling you into his lap, one of his arms looped around you, his other hand on your cheek, his fingers brushing over your skin. 

„I didn’t know you were gonna tell her,“ he whispered and you smiled. 

„She deserves to know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell her sooner. If I would have stayed you wouldn’t have missed so much…“ he stopped you by kissing you softly. 

„None of that. We both know I would have fucked this up. I would have said some really fucked up things and hurt you even more. So, there’s nothing you have to be sorry for, okay?“ He looked at you, his eyes pleading. 

You released a long breath, bringing both of your arms up to cross behind his neck. 

„Have I told you lately that I love you, Joel Miller?“ You whispered with a small smile that he mirrored. 

„Don’t think so. But I don’t blame you, I gotta say it a lot more often than you to make up for all the years I didn’t tell you. I do love hearing it though. Love you,“ he mumbled before he kissed you again. His lips moving on top of yours slowly, his hand tilting your head up a little so he could deepen the kiss. 

With a little sigh you parted your lips for him, his tongue dipping into your mouth, a deep moan coming from him, his arm pulling you closer against him. 

There had been lots of making out in the last days, stolen kisses when the girls weren’t in the room, secret touches under the table while you had dinner. 

But you haven’t slept together. 

And you were ready. 

„Joel,“ you mumbled, parting from his lips. He hummed, his lips running down your jaw. 

„We aren’t gonna be alone for a while,“ you whimpered, your head tilting up to give his wandering lips some more space. 

„What are you proposing?“ He asked, playfully nibbling on your neck. 

„I’m proposing that you fuck me, Miller. Right here,“ you gasped when you felt his other hand slip between your legs. 

„Right here?“ He asked, his fingers over the seam of your slick panties. 

„Mmmmhh….“ You closed your eyes, biting your lip when he pushed the fabric to the side, his fingers dipping between you slick folds, lazily teasing you. 

„All that for me?“ He asked and you opened your eyes, crashing your lips against his. 

„It’s been almost four years Joel. Please don’t tease me,“ you whined and his eyes softened before he picked you up and set you down on the table behind him. Within the next minutes you were both naked, your hands in his hair as you kissed him as he stood between your parted legs, the heavy weight of his cock resting against your stomach. 

„Gonna need to prepare you,“ he hummed, his hands on your ass. You shook your head. 

„Please just fuck me. You know I can take it,“ you whined, one of your hands wrapping around his cock, making him hiss. He groaned, sucking your bottom lip between his before he slapped your hand away, his dark eyes fixed on yours as he held his hand out to you. Waiting. 

Feeling your whole body heat up you spit in his hand and the left corner of his mouth twitched. 

„My good girl,“ he praised you and you couldn’t stop whimpering. 

He brought his hand down to wrap it around his cock, coating it in your saliva, before he lined himself up. You had dripped on the table you were sitting on, more than ready to take him. 

„I love you,“ he whispered and you looked at him with a soft smile, your lips parting when he slowly pushed his cock into you. Filling you inch by inch, both of you starring into each others eyes. 

„Missed this,“ you moaned. 

„Missed you,“ you crossed your legs behind him, giving him a little push, his cock finally filing you up completely. 

„Fucking Perfect,“ he groaned kissing you again before he began to move, pumping into you slowly. 

You let yourself fall back down against the table, stretching your arms over your head, your back arching, your tits moving every time Joel fucked into you. 

He licked his fingers, bringing it down between your legs, his thrusts getting harder as he rubbed your clit, your pussy clenching around him. 

„Yes… Baby… Just like that….“ You moaned, your hands coming down to play with your tits. 

„You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?“ He asked, moving faster, his skin slapping against yours every time he moved.

Nodding, you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you came, your whole body shaking as he fucked you through it. 

„Shit….“ He groaned, both of his hands now coming to rest on either side of you as he leaned down, fucking into you deeply, chasing his own orgasm. 

„Want you to cum again,“ he grunted, kissing you, drilling his cock into you, the whole table moving over the floor. 

„Want you to cum inside me. Let me feel you,“ you whimpered, your hands in his hair, trying to meet his thrusts. 

„Fuck that is…. Not a good idea….“ He laughed and you grinned. 

„I don’t care. Wanna feel you. Cum for me, Joel. Cum inside me,“ you whispered and he groaned, fucking into you a half dozen times more before you felt him twitch inside of you, filling you, making you cum for a second time. 

Both out of breath you looked at each other before Joel leant down and kissed you. 

„Sleep in bed with me?“ You hummed against his lips. 

„As long as you let me,“ he answered against your lips before you both sneaked upstairs. 

Against all odds after six days of a rather boring trip across the country you reached the radio tower in Cody. And two days later a group patrol of people on horses found you, asking you all kinds of questions before a man pulled the bandana that had been covering his face down, revealing Tommy Miller in the flesh. 

By now you were living in Jackson for almost a year. 

Ellie had decided to stay and live her life, the constant threat of someone looking for her still on the horizon, but it was decided that the town was not in immediate danger. Patrols kept an eye out for fireflies, but they haven’t spotted anyone. 

You were living a happy life all things considered. 

Ava went to pre school, Ellie went to normal school. They really became sisters in the last year, spending a lot of time together. 

Even though Ellie started to spend more and more time with a girl called Dina you suspected was more than just a friend. 

Joel was always working on improving the house. 

He had changed the most, back to the man he had been before the outbreak. Yes, he still was the protector when he needed to be, but most of the time he was just Joel. Your husband. 

„Yellow?“ He asked, holding the can of paint up.

You walked over to him with a smile, nodding.

„It’s a happy colour. I like happy colours,“ you shrugged and he chuckled, setting the can down on the floor before he put his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

One of his hands came to rest on your growing belly, the baby inside kicking up a storm as if it could sense their dads hand, making you both smile. 

„Still think it’s gonna be a girl?“ You asked and he nodded, before he kissed you softly. 

„Think I’m meant to be surrounded by beautiful girls,“ he hummed before he kissed you again. 

#my fic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

[thirstworldproblemss]

Not sure how this works but these are some of my favorite artists:

@poenariuniverse

https://poenariuniverse.tumblr.com/post/689476786472534017/ive-always-loved-yautjas-predators-so-i-thought

https://poenariuniverse.tumblr.com/post/689214662548537344/the-otter-king-kneel-stupid-little-drawing

@oonajaeadira

https://oonajaeadira.tumblr.com/post/645054196818853888/oonajaeadiras-masterlist

@littlemisspascal

https://youtube.com/channel/UCFHedWuZi3D1Xau8Xtrgweg

Favorite Fanworks Recs:

Fanart by @poenariuniverse: - Grogu & the Yautja [crossover: Predator, Grogu, Din] - The Otter King [Pedro Pascal]

Fanfic* by @oonajaeadira: - Good. Things. Take. Time. [Calls AU: massage therapist Pedro Across the Street x f reader, ongoing series] - Where He is Compelled to Stay [The Great Wall: Pero x f reader, oneshot]

Fanvids* by @littlemisspascal: - Born Ready [The Mandalorian: Din] - Happy Birthday Pedro Pascal 2022 [Pedro & misc Pedro characters] *(Since you didn’t choose specific fanworks for Adira or Rae, I’ve picked a few of my favs—hopefully things you like too, ‘anon!)

(Last Day to send in a rec for twp’s “Show Me the Fanworks!” Celebration)

Thank you for these great recs, lovely anon!  I adore all of these creators, and I’m so glad to see them get some love!! <3

🧡 twp

[Edited to Add: All recs now compiled on the Fav Fanworks Rec List]

#fav fanworks rec ask #din djarin #grogu #pedro pascal #pedro across the street #pero tovar #pedro across the street x reader #pero tovar x reader #poenariuniverse #oonajaeadira #littlemisspascal #twp's show me the fanworks celebration #anonymous

[heartpascal]

is it freedom?

▹— spiderverse (future) found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.

▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(

▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation

masterlist PART TWO

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.

But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?

You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.

It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.

But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.

The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.

It’s freedom. It has to be.

You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.

And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.

So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.

You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.

“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.

“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.

“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”

The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.

“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.

And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.

It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.

There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.

You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?

Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.

The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?

“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.

“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?

“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?

The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.

“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.

“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.

You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.

But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.

Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.

“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”

The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.

You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.

His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.

You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.

“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”

Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.

“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”

“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”

The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.

No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.

So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.

However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.

But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.

A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.

She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”

You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?

“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”

You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?

“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.

“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”

The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”

“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.

The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”

You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.

…Right?

It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.

People aren’t born as monsters, are they?

Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.

Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.

“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.

You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.

It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.

In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?

You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?

It didn’t feel right.

And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.

“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.

“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.

It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.

But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.

It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.

And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?

“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.

You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.

Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.

It was a whirlwind from there.

Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.

You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.

But you were.

This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.

You had everything you needed.

And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.

The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.

It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.

“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.

She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.

“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”

You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.

“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.

The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”

“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.

“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”

She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.

It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.

If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.

It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.

Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.

A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.

She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,” You say, more of a question, “You with me?”

“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.

“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.

“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.

Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.

Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.

But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.

Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.

Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.

“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.

“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.

Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.

It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.

She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.

Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.

You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.

Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.

“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.

As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.

“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.

“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”

The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.

“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”

Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.

Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.

You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.

It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.

You’re capable and you’re content.

You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?

The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.

“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.

He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.

He stares at you, unimpressed.

“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.

“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.

You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.

Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.

His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.

“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.

Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.

Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.

#heartpascal writes #across the spiderverse spoilers #atsv spoilers #spiderman atsv spoilers #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x platonic reader #jessica drew x platonic reader #peter b parker x platonic reader #peter b parker x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x platonic reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse imagines #spiderverse one shot #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse angst #miguel o’hara angst #struggling idk how to tag with a new fandom shhh