#see you spider cowboy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fangirl-dot-com · 4 months

Text

Incorrect Quotes

all of these were from Pinterest - cause I'm not this funny (I also couldn't wait for the next chapter to come out so here :D)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated <3

TAG LIST IS OPEN! - 26 spots still open! (please send me a direct message to be added!)

Y/n: I’m cool Oscar Y/n: I’m THEE coolest Y/n: In fact, I was once arrested for being too cool *puts on sunglasses* Oscar: The charges were dropped because there was no supporting evidence. Also, your glasses are upside down.

Y/n: I have a very specific type Max: Oh yeah? Like what? Y/n: Y’know…polite, handsome, athletic…that sort of thing Arthur (on his fourth energy drink of the day) tripping over camera wires and holding his mic upside down: you little shit eating, damned pathetic piece of shit – now you listen here Y/n: *heart eyes* that one. I want that one. Max: *flabbergasted*

Lando: bet you’re standing in the corner because you’re scared that you’ll get turned down if you talk to anyone Y/n: please, I could fluster near everyone at this party if I chose to Oscar: oh yeah? Prove it. Go for someone borderline impossible and I’ll believe you Y/n, approaching Arthur: hey dumbass, hoodie looks kind of cute on you, wanna get out of here? Arthur: WH- I MEAN- UHHHH YEAH SURE Y/n: perfect Oscar and Lando:

Y/n: I brought a red bull Max: I don’t want a red bull Y/n: I didn’t bring this for you. This is my red bull. Max: then why are you telling me? Y/n: It’s a conversation starter. Max: That’s a lousy conversation starter Y/n: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate *sips red bull*

Y/n: *gently taps table* Logan: *taps back* Alex: what are they doing? George: morse code Y/n: *aggressively taps table* Logan: *slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

Lewis: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated Y/n: Killed without hesitation Lewis: nO!

Y/n: Is stabbing someone immoral? Mitch: Not if they consent to it. Max: Depends on who you’re stabbing. Christian: YES?!

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. Y/n: Shit Logan: Wait, three? Cop: yeah? Lando: OH MY GOSH OSCAR FELL OFF!!

Max: Time for plan G. Liam: Don’t you mean plan B? Daniel: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Y/n: What about plan D? Daniel: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Max: What about plan E? Liam: I’m hoping not to use it. I die in plan E Yuki: I like plan E.

Christian: Did none of you think this was a bad idea? *Y/n, Max, Charles, and Arthur covered in navy and red paint* Y/n: Oh no, we all did. We just decided to do it anyway.

George: (in sunglasses and newest Tommy Hilfiger jumpsuit) *in the most posh accent* I’m too good for revenge Logan: (covered in bug spray, cowboy hat and overalls on, pumped full of Bang energy drink and high on freedom) *cocks shotgun* Well, I’m not. Give me the name.

Arthur: So what’s your type? Y/n: Kinda long blond hair, green eyes, dumb, dimples, funny, really thin waist Arthur: Huh, that kind of sounds like me! Too bad its not me! Y/n: did I mention dumb? Arthur: yeah, why? Y/n: just making sure

*Over Text*

Y/n: Hey pretty boy, what’re you up to? :) Arthur: Eating cereal in bed Y/n: And what would you be doing if I was in bed with you? Arthur:…I would still be eating my cereal?

Waitress: And what would you like to eat? Y/n: I wish to devour the unborn Fernando: Eggs, she would like eggs

Y/n: Do you think that when sheep go to sleep they count themselves? Lando: Or do they count humans? Y/n: Ooo, that’s a good question Oscar: GO TO SLEEP

Y/n to Max: because I am a mature adult *turns to see Mitch, Christian, and Vito shake their heads* *turns back to Max* Y/n: I am an adult

*Dinner with Max, Y/n, Charles, and Arthur*

Y/n: The food is too cute, I can’t eat it! Max: Charles: Arthur: You’re cute, but I’d still eat y- Max: ONE DINNER Charles: *sighs* here we go again Max: ONE NORMAL DINNER IS ALL I ASK Y/n: Charles, this pasta is also crunchy, I truly can’t eat this

Ollie: Good night everyone Arthur: Good night Lando: Good night Oscar: Good night Y/n: good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. Tonight, imma fight until we see the sunlight. Tik tok on the clock, but the party don’t stop Oscar: I’M DONE

George (t-posing in the doorway): Greetings, parental figures and sister figure *Y/n, Lewis, and Toto walking past* Toto (not looking up from his coffee): Good morning, problem child

Christian: You see, Fernando, Y/n is at the age where she only has one thing on her mind Fernando (noticeably excited): Oh! Oh! Oh! Boys? Max (looking over at the dead tired rookie with revenge in her eyes as she looks at Esteban): No. Murder.

Y/n: Hey Liam, want some of this food? Liam: Sure, thanks! Yuki (storming in with the anger of the gods): WHO TF ATE MY LEFTOVERS THAT CLEARLY HAD MY NAME ON IT Y/n: WE did Liam: You surprisingly smart little mf

Y/n: Never have I ever…Been grounded by my parents! Arthur (exasperated): Every time. She makes disownment jokes every time and she always wins Max: Good one Kid. I always go for the ‘never had a dad who supported me.’ Charles: *stands up and walks away*

Y/n: I’ve only said I love you to four people. Christian, Vito, Arthur, and Max when I thought he died after he wouldn’t respond after a DNF. I only regret one of those Lando: Which one? Y/n: Max. He was just pressing the wrong button and walked out a few minutes later. He made me look like an idiot. Max: I let you win next race Y/n: still

(Y/n, Logan, Lando, and George trying to sneak into RB for more energy drinks after being banned from drinking more)

Logan: So what do you think Y/n will do as a distraction? Lando: She’ll probably, like, make a noise George: Or throw a rock. That’s what I would do *The door flings open and smoke follows. Screams of mechanics fill the air as they try to extinguish a small fire* Logan:…Or she could do that.

Y/n: When I die, donate my entire body to science Y/n: Except my middle finger, give that to Esteban

(max and y/n in a horror movie)

Max: QUICK YOU’RE LOSING A LOT OF BLOOD. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? Y/n (bleeding out): tall, male, brown hair, dimples, caring, supportive, Monegasque Max: BLOOD TYPE DUMBASS Y/n: oh Y/n: (looks down at wound) Y/n: red

Lando: I wish we could block people in real life. Oscar: Restraining order Y/n: Murder

Christian: Y/n, we need to talk about your professionalism for media days Y/n (and a lot of media personelle she rounded up, all standing on chairs): those are some mighty brave words for someone standing in lava

Y/n (to Max while hiding behind some tires – regretting everything): and then I called him dad Christian (to Geri – trying not to cry while cameras are everywhere): and then she called me dad

Max: Christian, look what Y/n got me for father’s day *holds up generic #1 dad mug* Christian (glaring silently while sipping from his own #1 dad mug) Max: that lying rookie Vito (holding a worn down #1 dad mug): you guys are late to the party suckers

Criminals: We have your daughter and son Toto: I don’t have a daughter and Jack is right here Criminals: then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crusts off their sandwiches? Christian: dear God, you have Y/n and George

Mitch: So Christian, you and Geri want to be a parents again someday? Christian: Someday? We’re parents right now. Mitch: Y/n is your employee Geri: She is our BLOOD

Christian: Max is late again Kelly: I woke him up at 8 and pretended it was 11 Y/n: I wrote a fake schedule saying we were starting at 9 instead of 12 Lando: I changed his clock from AM to PM Christian: I think you may have overdone it Max (bursting into the garage): WHAT YEAR IS IT?

Y/n: If I blended Red Bull, five hour energy, monster, coffee, and hot Cheetos into an energy smoothie...would it kill me? Logan: *shrugs* only if you die Y/n (getting out the blender): you're so smart Logan Max (running into the room): y/N STOP!

Lance: I got Netflix like you asked! Y/n: OH that's amazing! I've been mooching off Max's and Arthur's accounts for a while. This will be nice! Lance: Wait, what do you mean accounts? Y/n: Their Netflix accounts? Lance: Y/n: Like their profiles? I wanted one of my own, they're like $12 Lance: Lance:....Oh....You meant the account on the service... Y/n: Yeah, what did you think I meant? Wait...What did you buy? Lance: Lance:....Netflix...

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12

2K notes · View notes

thewistlingbadger · 1 year

Text

Is Spider-Gwen trans: An analysis

After leaving the theater yesterday for Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse, one thought sat in my mind: could Gwen be trans? This may seem like a reach, but just hear me out.

1. Trans Flags

There are two trans flags that I spotted in the movie, both of them are in Gwen's home. In Gwen's room, a small trans flags with the phrase "Protect trans kids" hangs above her doorway. Now, if Gwen isn't trans, then why would she have a trans flag in her room? Most ally's wouldn't have a trans flag in their room. Maybe someone she's close to is trans? There's only 3 people Gwen has in her life. Her father, her dead best friend, and Miles. There isn't any evidence to suggest that any of them are trans. Especially her dad and Peter, since they didn't have much screen time. The phrase is an important clue too. If she was just an ally, why the phrase "Protect trans kids"? Why not "trans rights are human rights"? That phrase is equally as popular and it's more general. Protect trans kids is personal and usually refers to anti trans legislation that affects minors. Gwen is a minor, so is it really too unbelievable to suggest that she has the flag because she's trans?

The second flag is a patch on Gwen's dad's police jacket. Does this flag mean that her dad is trans? Or, is this a dad wearing a trans flag in support of his daughter?

2. Color theory

This is a weak point, but I'm going to include it anyway. Gwen's world is full of pastels. In fact, in most scenes with Gwen in her dimension, the colors light blue, light pink, and white are in the background. Those are literally the colors of the trans flag

3. Spiderman as a trans allegory.

Now, it's no secret that a lot of trans people like the character/concept of Spiderman. For a long time, I, as a fellow trans person, didn't understand the obsession until seeing this movie. A main theme of this movie, if not Mile's franchise, is that anyone can be Spiderman. Anyone can wear the mask, each Spiderperson is unique. Spiderman isn't really a person, it's a concept, and that's why its so applicable to everyone, regardless of who they are. Spiderman is a good person with a "secret" identity who goes trough struggles and also lives a "double life". And when you look at the story like that, the trans allegory becomes clear. Across the spiderverese is a brilliant movie with an abundance of representation. To black spiderpeople, Indian spiderpeople, disabled spiderpeople, hijabi spiderpeople, even spiderpeople who are cowboys and all sorts of other different variants. If all these different people can be Spiderman at the same time, then who's to say there isn't a trans spider person? And who's to say that person isn't Gwen?

So, is Gwen Stacy trans? I don't know, and I'm not saying she is. But I think it's entirely possible and the fact that it is, the fact that any spiderperson could potentially be queer, is something to be celebrated because it opens more doors for representation.

#happy pride month #trans #transgender #queer #lgbtq+ community #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #gwen stacy #spider gwen #trans gwen stacy #mic does analysis #media #sony animation #animation #repersentantion

2K notes · View notes

dailyadventureprompts · 7 months

Text

Heavy Topics: A Child's Vision of Evil

One of the first big “aha!” moments in my journey to retrofit d&d’s laughably bad lore was the realization that the way the game treated evil didn’t make much sense. As a dungeonmaster I was asked to create dramatic stakes for my players but the out-of-the-box antagonists supplied to me were as laughably one note as the pollution loving villains in Captain Planet. Who would ever worship the demon god of killing everything that lives? Of torturing you for all eternity? Of being unpleasantly covered in slime?

None of it really made sense until I started to understand the world and recent history through a political lens, at which point several things became clear:

Despite how large a bogyman it played in the satan scare of the late 80s, the people who laid the foundations for the lore of d&d came from a background of conservative american christianity, and baked a lot of that ethos into the game.

The conservative christian imagination can only see things in black and white. People who disagree with them can’t just have a different opinion, even if that opinion is objectively good, they need to be wilfully evil . In fact they must be trying as hard to be evil as the christian is trying to be good, because they’re a backwards person, a monster, a demon.

This idea of the “Backwards Person” is the exact process that gave rise to the bloodlibel, to the witchpanics, to the redscare, and yes, the 80s fear that satanists lurk around every corner sacrificing babies and putting poison in candy because they love evil that much. It’s the same thought that’s given rise to Q-anon and the groomer panic. “People who disagree with just can’t just have a different opinion, they must be demons.”

D&D’s classic enemies are similarly all “backwards people”, hardwired to do evil so that players always have an excuse to kill them. While on the surface it seems harmless or even childish it leads to the default d&d world being one where peace is impossible and genocidal violence is the only correct answer.

We can do better in our writing than a bunch of shut-ins who wanted nothing more than to play cowboys and indians while ripping off Tolkien. Whether you want to write a sweeping epic or a mindless dungeon crawler, there’s a way to reconfigure d&d lore.

Join me below the cut for a discussion of different ways to use evil in your games.

Children cannot control their emotions nor their fear, they lack the life experience necessary to contextualize things beyond a surface level reading. If you ask a child to "imagine something bad" they're going to take something that scared them, something gross or unpleasant or threatening and imagine it blown up to cartoonish proportion. Tolkien got bit by a spider as a kid and the entire fantasy genre has never lived it down.

D&D is weird because it keeps these childish ideas about evil and drags them forward into an adult context. Those three demon gods I mentioned in the intro make a sort of sense when you realize they're fears of dying, pain, and uncleanliness made manifest. That said most of us having outgrown our childish simplicity understand that those things are neutral, Spiders might personally gross you out but we all understand that doesn't make them bad on a spiritual level. In the base d&d lore however that personal distaste is ALWAYS true: Evilness is synonymous with ugliness and monstrousness, drawing a thick crayon line between the good people and the bad things.

That's where we get our particular flavor of backwards people, because one of those fundamental (pun intended) fears d&d inherited from it's creators was xenophobia, fear of the strange, but also fear of the stranger. When the white, suburban, middle class, christian creators of d&d imagined the other they took all the bad things they had been told in their youth about people who were not them and made them into monsters: That's why the default thinking enemies of d&d are tribal primitives who squat in the ruins of greater civilizations worshipping demons while coveting the beauty and wealth of cultured people. It sounds hyperbolic, but there's a one for one parallel between between the weird sexual anxieties conservatives have about black men and orcs raiding human lands to kidnap women as breeding stock. Same fears about emasculation and race mixing and ethnic replacement, only d&d gives the good ol' boys a narrative vehicle where they can revenge themselves upon their imagined foe.

Most modern d&d is not like this, and I chalk that up to the demographic shift that's happened both because of time passing and the influx of new voices that came along with the 5e renaissance. We're all media literate enough to avoid the obvious racial pantomime... except in cases like the Hardozee when the devs port something almost word for word from an older edition and we get a thanksgiving uncle/facebook aunt screed about how the silly monkey people are really SO happy to work for the refined and civilized and white elves.

What's left behind however is that pervasive childlike worldview: Where perfectly natural things that creep us out (like rot) or frighten us (like pregnancy) are made universally villainous regardless of any themes that are going on in that specific story. Ask yourself why the creators of a piece of media made their badguys look and act like they did, rather than just accepting that it's that way because "the lore says so".

Anyway, that's my rant over, and I promised you guys some different versions of how to use Evil:

Classic demons or lovecraftian horrors make for good bossfights but are thin on character, one of the basic building blocks of story. To remedy this, pair your unremitting force of darkness and destruction with a troubled and nuanced mortal agent, someone who is trying their general best but has been forced down this low road by circumstances beyond their control. This gives your roleplaying focused players something to play off against while your combat focused ones battle a building sized monstrosity. Raw evil isn't interesting, it becomes interesting when we see what it makes morally grey people, even good people, do in reaction to it.

Extremity is one of the best ways to turn normal people into villains, a looming disaster or recent crisis that's putting the pressure on everyone and preventing anyone from thinking beyond protecting themselves and their own. Beyond the people acting rashly, you're also going to have a legion of opportunists offering to fix the problem as your higher rank of antagonists to overcome.

Similarly, if you're going to have your villain backed up by legions of faceless mooks you're going to need a reason for their loyalty. Your villain is offering them something worth dying for, which gives your heroes an alternate win condition for overcoming their numbers beyond genocide.

If you're willing to take a step into a more fanciful, cartoony universe, feel free to play with the idea of good and evil as arbitrary teams: It's the badguy's job to cause chaos and it's the goodguy's job to stop em, they're all working professionals and the dungeon is the workplace comedy. This is fun, but then lets you escalate the tension when someone doesn't play by the rules. What happens when a zealot starts executing evildoers who'd already surrendered? what happens when the villain summons something that is more interested in devastation than wacky hijinx?

Think of morality like a punnett square: There's the party, and then there's the villain who wants the opposite of what they want. THEN there's the villain who wants what the party wants, and the ally who wants the opposite of party wants. Suddenly rather than a simple binary, the party is forced to balance the interest of varying groups as well as their better judgment. This can be made even MORE complex by creating different categories of "what the party wants", which is generally how you get complex political dramas like game of thrones.

#heavy topics #writing advice #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder

612 notes · View notes

miguel-ohara-wifey · 9 months

Note

okay hear me out… headcanons for spiderverse men that’s like how they act when their s/o is pregnant

I know I said I’d focus on my cowboy!Miguel fic but I’ve been waiting for this request! Ask and ye shall receive

Spiderverse men when there s/o is pregnant headcanons

Tag list: @alliwriteistrash I figured you’d like this

Rating: 18+, hurt/comfort, fluff, Angst

Peter B Parker

-Peter and you have tried at a baby for ages, but stopped before hand because some new threat emerged for Spider-Man, career opportunities you had to make priority, or some financial problems came up. Overall it hasn’t been ideal timing whenever you two wanted to try.

-Your body had other plans however, after a few days in a row of getting sick in the morning. Food tasting weird and having a sickly feeling in your stomach. You had to take a pregnancy test just to ease your anxiety. Unfortunately it didn’t, it was positive. Your body immediately starts to shake, you throw up for an entirely different reason.

-the twitching under your skin from fear stopped when you threw up. But your mind was still fraught with catastrophizing thoughts. What if you need an abortion, what if Peter doesn’t want the kid anymore, how would you play this when he gets home? Is Spider-Man even meant to have a child?

-You knew you couldn’t hide it from him in good conscience, when Peter arrives at your home with the groceries like he promised. Joking about the latest villain of the week he took down. You can’t help but start sobbing right when you spot his brown eyes. Not even knowing why, when he huddled you gently. Wiping your tears away asking what’s wrong. You relent how you took a pregnancy test and it’s positive.

-Before your knee jerk apology can be made he embraces you, conscious of your stomach in the tightening of his body around yours. He whispers how great that is, all your fears laid dead before you. But you still kept crying, expect out of pure joy. Peter meet you eye too eye, clearly joining in on the sob parade.

“You’re gonna make a daddy honey…I can’t wait.”

Miguel O’Hara

-You knew it wouldn’t be pretty when you told Miguel you were pregnant. Especially because you were going to have the baby. Miguel was furious, you two have been casual for a long time. You knew of Miguel’s past with Gabriella, not like he makes an effort to hid it. For fucks sake initiates get the holographic slide show of his trauma.

-Miguel isn’t characteristically raving and violent in this rage, not like you’ve ever felt unsafe around him. However you’ve seen enough of his anger to know it burns hot. But this was the cutting chill of dry ice, he plainly told you he’s not going to be the kids father. If you want the kid, you’re on your own. You sob and scream at him how he’s an asshole.

-He doesn’t exactly argue against that point, in fact he doesn’t argue at all. Just nods and leaves as you sob in defeat. You knew this would happen, he’d break your heart in the end. Yet the smallest speck from the deepest crevice of your mind believed otherwise. Cause you want him close. Miguel would always assure complete low commitment and non-existent emotional entanglement when you two started dating. Work is his true love and he wouldn’t dare let you compete.

-The day after, you slept in till the afternoon. Not even wanting to make yourself breakfast even if it meant silencing the gargling of your stomach. You hear a knock at the door. You figure it’s a package that got sent to you by accident. So no matter how terrible you feel you get out of bed. Opening the door, you see Miguel with your favorite breakfast meal from Panera.

-You angrily squint at him asking if he thinks this’ll make up for ditching you. He says it doesn’t, his eyes reddened from crying. He just says he knows you probably haven’t had any food yet today because of your argument. But he is sorry, he’s going to be there for you and the baby. He was a fucking asshole, your entire relationship. He loves you and never wanted to admit it. For what it’s worth he’s here for whenever or however long you’d have him.

“It’s okay if you’re still mad at me…but I know you’re craving this so just have some food.”

Hobie Brown

-This was a shock to both of you, you’ve always been safe despite all the kinkiness you get into. You’ve always had protection upon protection on top of taking regular std tests.

-Despite this shockwave through Hobie and your lives, the moment you tell him you want to keep it. He’s on board, he gets a head start on baby proofing the apartment. Engineering makeshift baby monitors and safe toys for the baby to play with. He starts reading parenting books and setting up the baby’s room in his off time. Making the room a vibrant red, doesn’t matter if the baby’s a boy or a girl. You’re gonna raise them to be a punk.

-Also watches after you carefully. Even when it means leaving his station as Spider-Man for a day. You and the precious future you’re carrying matters even more to him. He’ll be sure to get everything you crave. Even if he has to teach himself how to make sponge cake. If that’s what his baby mama wants it’s what his baby mama gets. He didn’t exactly get it, but you appreciated the sentiment regardless.

-Unfortunately now truly the worst of your pregnancy signs present themselves. You throw up almost every other morning, your favorite foods now don’t taste like anything cause your tastebuds have turned against you. And you’re fatigued easily so you have to take a few weeks off helping the movement. On top of the fact you always feel heavier and heavier as every day goes by.

-When your mood swings are at there highest to boot, you find an excuse to yell at him at any point. So he knows it’s best to leave the house for a couple of hours for you to cool off. Not to dismiss your feelings, but knowing his presence only exasperates your rage spike. So when he comes back with store bought sponge cake for you. You sob and apologize for getting mad at him. He takes it in stride, he knows this road will be bumpy as everything else is. But you’re in it together.

“It’s alright love, and don’t worry I won’t torture you with my sponge cake I bought you some…”

Spider-Man Noir

-Once you ask your darling to open the oven to take out what you were making. He saw a single bun on the rack, right after asking why there’s a bun in the oven. A second later he puts two and two together. He rushes over to you, via sliding on his knees against the wooden kitchen floors to your stomach.

-He sends pecks all over your gut while massaging it with his head. Almost already trying to hear your baby, his baby. Whispering as if your future child can hear you through its very tiny molecules. You giggle at this man’s infatuation with your stomach. Sure he’s always loved every part of you. But now he has two angels in his life.

-He unleashes all the parenting books he stocked up for just in case he’d ever be a dad. As well as makes you promise to quit work in a week to focus on yourself. He begins doing most of the chores you did around the house. Doting on you head to toe, not that you’re going to stop him. Especially when your mood swings begin to hit. You become extra clingy and needy.

-But his heart breaks when you say you’re sorry for not being as pretty anymore now that you’re starting to show. He’s devastated, he thinks you’re even more gorgeous now. The fact you’re carrying your soon to be family. His whole world, how could he not find you all the more irresistible? He corrects such by going down on you that night. “Having sex with a pregnant woman makes the baby a pervert later in life” be damned. You must know how much he can’t get enough of you.

-After such he cuddles you into him like he always does, his stringy brown locks mixed with sweat. As he can still taste your orgasm in his mouth. After you started to breath steadily again, you relent you believe him when he says he knows you’re the sexiest woman alive. He smiles so innocently despite the unholiness of the situation, he cloaks your body in a cool blanket. Kissing you on the cheek and telling you need sleep now.

“It’s never a labor to love you, and our family. Don’t forget that darlin…”

#Peter B Parker #Hobie Brown #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara #Spider-Man noir #hcs #spiderverse hcs #spiderverse #headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #hobie brown x reader #Peter b Parker x reader #Spider-Man noir x reader #requested writing #Spider-Man

872 notes · View notes

stevie-petey · 7 months

Text

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan because, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away.

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together.

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family.

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.”

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.”

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of.

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night.

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by.

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?”

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.”

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?”

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.”

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special.

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle.

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.”

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.”

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly.

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding.

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.”

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck.

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier.

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other.

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store.

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.”

“Sick!”

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?”

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight.

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look.

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment.

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go.

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s got a stick up her butt.”

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now.

“Lucas! Language!”

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night.

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.”

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent.

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…”

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike.

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy.

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.”

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him.

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood.

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins.

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys.

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will.

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him.

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street.

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy.

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour.

–

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school.

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat.

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift?

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later.

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class.

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English.

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right.

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence.

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening.

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-”

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you.

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault.

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice.

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark.

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else.

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit.

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other.

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart.

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up.

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail.

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?”

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.”

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt.

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you.

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind.

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him.

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you.

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.”

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan.

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today.

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.”

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins.

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can.

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears.

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters.

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed.

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder.

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t.

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,”

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.”

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave.

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it.

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality.

“Holy shit, did I hit you?”

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes.

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.”

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?”

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.”

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.”

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!”

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance.

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual.

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise.

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones.

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.”

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.”

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.”

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys.

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.”

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels.

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face.

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone.

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now.

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside.

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed.

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans.

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path.

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.”

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone.

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.”

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.”

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says.

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off.

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.”

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit.

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…”

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in.

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.”

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit.

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them.

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him.

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.”

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving.

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe.

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys.

“Byers!”

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception.

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize.

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends.

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for.

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second.

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well.

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it.

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well.

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.”

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes.

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks.

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case.

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and you know that nothing will be the same again.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #honestly i just want to be jonathans bff #like its criminal that he doesnt have any real friends in the show until SEASON 4 #absolutely wild

376 notes · View notes

divine-donna · 11 months

Text

pink ensembles

pairing: miguel o’hara x gender neutral! reader

word count: 994 words

ao3 link: 💗💗💗

summary: the spider society is holding a very special barbie disco party!! miguel doesn’t have an appropriate outfit. thankfully, you have the perfect solution for your partner. and you’re awesome at dressing people!

for vibes: “dance the night” by dua lipa

notes: there are no detailed descriptions about the ensemble reader is wearing. it’s just something that’s all pink! anyways who’s excited for the barbie movie? i’m seeing it over oppenheimer.

“Wait, you’re not coming?”

“Well I didn’t say that. I said I wouldn’t dress up.”

“That’s as bad as saying you’re not coming! If you’re not going to dress up, why come at all!”

“(Y/N), that’s literally not what I meant.” The man was trying to enjoy his lunch in peace. “If I don’t come, it looks pretty bad. Especially as the person who founded the Spider Society.”

“And I just believe you should look the part.”

Miguel sets his arepa down. “I don’t think you get it. I’m not dressing up because my wardrobe...” He sighs. “You’ve literally been in my wardrobe. You steal my clothes all the time.”

It finally hit you. “Oh. I see. It’s because you lack color in your wardrobe. That’s not a problem!”

“What...What do you mean? I literally don’t have the clothes for it.”

“And I do! I think I have the perfect outfit too. Come on! We’re going back to my place!”

Miguel rushed to finish his lunch and even took the last remaining arepa with him. He’d rather die than let a good arepa go to waste (also because wasting food was something he was taught not to do). The two of you made it back to your place where you revealed your closet. It was definitely a closet from a Barbie dreamhouse playset. Your closet was even color coded and was very satisfying to look at. There were even shades of colors he didn’t think existed. You were going through your pink section, putting different shades of pink against his arm and even looking at the veins of his hand. “Perfect! The ensemble I have in mind is the right pink!” You were giddy about this and pulled out the set.

He wasn’t phased by the outfit but rather that you seemed to have it in his size. “How long have you had this?” He asks.

“For a while. I bought it in hopes of us doing matching outfits one day.”

“How did you get my size?”

“Lyla helped.”

He’s not the slightest bit annoyed. Instead, a small smile crosses his face and he walks over to you, giving you a gentle kiss on your lips. You kiss back and take in his presence. It was always nice to just be with him. “I’ll put this on.”

When Miguel comes out, you almost fell over. Because your partner was just...hot. So, so, so, so hot. The sleeveless top allowed you to see every single fiber of muscle as he moved his arms. His pecs were popping out from the neckline. The flared pants hugged his waist nicely, rising quite high, and framing his butt better than his Spider-suit. The white cowboy hat really topped everything off. But despite the beauty that was your partner in this outfit, you still felt he was missing something. Maybe something around his neck? That would be quite hot. “I look like a vaquero. Except without the equipment.” He says.

“I mean, it is Western inspired. And it was vaqueros that were the base for the Western cowboy.”

“We definitely did it better.” He takes a spin, watching the way the bottom of his pants flared out.

“You have white boots?”

“They’re the most colorful thing in my closet.”

“Great! They’ll go with the outfit. Now, you’re missing something.”

“Am I? I think it looks great.”

“You just need one more bit of pizzazz!” You rub your chin for a bit. “Lyla!”

“Here!” The AI appears besides Miguel’s shoulder. “I knew he would look good.”

“Lyla, do you think you can find the star patterned pink bandana?”

“Oh.” She winces. “It’s not here on this Earth. But it is available in these Earths and at these storefronts, from what I can gather.” Lyla expands the map of the multiverse.

“Well, we can start there. I’ll be back soon Miguel.”

Miguel was...very surprised to see you come back with a ton of scratches and bruises. But you were beaming brightly and judging by the bag in your hand, you had succeeded in your mission. He should’ve figured that you were willing to fight tooth and nail for the last fashion accessory for your partner. After all, what was better than getting to dress him up? “Geez! What happened (Y/N)!” Lyla cleans her glasses to make sure it wasn’t dirt blocking her vision.

“I fought people for it. Turns out everywhere in the multiverse is looking for this? It’s the biggest multiversal fashion trend.” You pull the box out and toss the bag, before removing the top of the box. “It’s like fresh!” You approach your partner with the bandana and he lets you tie it around his neck. When you step back, you feel your eyes water. “It’s perfect!”

“Awww. Should let (Y/N) dress you up more. They know what they’re doing.” Lyla looks at her watch. “Got to go. I’ll catch you two at the party!” The AI disappears.

“Okay now I have to get ready!”

“Take your time cariño.” His voice just purred softly. And you needed to prevent yourself from just melting at the way he spoke to you.

When you came out, your scratches and bruises were gone (mostly). And you had dressed up in your cutest pink ensemble. You looked like a Barbie doll! And honestly, Miguel was feeling like he was just a Ken. He looked nowhere near as good. “I like what you did beneath your eyes.” You had put small stones to complete your makeup look.

“Thank you! I’m happy you like it.”

“I always like what you do.”

“You’re going to make me collapse from how cheesy you are.”

“I’ll just catch you.” Miguel pulls you close to him and presses a gentle kiss on your cheek. He’s careful not to ruin the makeup.

“Shall we get going?”

“I don’t know. How about we just stay here for a little longer? No one arrives to a party on time anyways.”

#spider-man: across the spider-verse #across the spiderverse #fluff #spider-man 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

432 notes · View notes

staytinyville · 8 months

Text

OUTLAW (13)

ATEEZ ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: None

Beta Read by @mariana-mmtz

It didn’t take long for the town to find the camp the boys were staying in. They weren’t that far from the outskirts, so it was clear the camp would be found on the first day. With the search party going on the following day, Jongho and Yunho were too busy helping out with the hunting.

You were still too panicked to leave the hotel, but you knew that the morticians were there the morning you woke up with Seonghwa taking the bodies. Yeosang and Seonghwa had tried to keep you inside, worrying you’d go into a worse state. The patch on your neck was explained to your parents that you had gotten bit by a spider.

After that, your family began to worry and make sure you were okay. They could easily see how shaken up you were, chalking it up to knowing that people died close by. While the town had other crimes happening, it was the first time something like that happened so close by, which worried your family.

For the next couple of days, they decided it would be best to have everyone go home and have no night shifts. The guests were just going to have to wait until the morning to ask for something. They were right in doing that anyway, seeing as the town decided to put up a curfew for a few weeks. At least until they knew the outlaws were gone or dead.

Seonghwa and Yeosang tried their best to keep you from getting too worried over the boys. They knew you were getting anxious as each day passed and both Yunho and Jongho didn’t come back to say the city had gotten past the search. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, you hoped the boys were smart enough to leave a trail of where they might have gone. But you wouldn’t know anytime soon.

It was the third day of waiting for news from either or when you were anxiously sitting at the front desk. Yeosang was keeping you company, attending to his duties. When you heard people marching up on the patio of the hotel, your eyebrows pulled together as the sheriff waltz into the hotel.

You had already given your statement and so had Seonghwa. In order to not have you involved, both of you had explained that all you heard were the gunshots and had looked out through the window for fear of getting hit with a bullet. After you deemed it safe, Seonghwa had left to find the bodies and alert the officers staying at the inn.

That was the story you both came up with and made sure you knew what to say. Just in case you guys even came up with a story of what you did afterward. However, there wasn’t much else you could give. They only needed to know how Seonghwa found the bodies.

“Sheriff.” You greeted, watching as the man came closer to the front desk.

“(Y/N).” He politely greeted. “We’re going to need you to come down to the station.” He had told you.

You only looked at him confused, but nodded anyway. “Tell my parents that I had to go to the station.” You spoke to Yeosang.

“I’ll go with you.” Yeosang spoke up, walking around the desk to follow after you.

“That won’t be needed, young man.” The sheriff shook his head. “We only need (Y/N).”

“She already gave her statement.” Yeosang frowned. “What else do you need her for?” The man knew that both you and Seonghwa had told the exact same story, having been there for both of the questioning. He was skeptical as to why the sheriff only needed you and not Seonghwa either.

“What’s going on here?” Your father questioned. Seonghwa suddenly came from the saloon area, eyes going over to Yeosang inquiring. Your mother came down from the stairs, some bedsheets in hand.

“Nothing. Sheriff Hendrick just needed me to go down to the station.” You spoke up, looking up at Yeosang. “It’s fine really.”

“My daughter was shaken up by the incident. You already questioned her and got the story. What more do you need?” Your father frowned.

“Please (F/N). This is officer business.” Hendrick told him.

“To hell. This is my daughter. I deserve to know.” Your father glared.

“Your daughter is of legal age. Therefore, she is not yours to take care of anymore.” You grimaced at the man’s tone against your father. “However, because she is still living under your roof, we are obligated to tell you.”

“(Y/N) (L/N) you are under investigation for suspicion of fraternizing with the outlaw currently on the loose.” Your eyes went wide and your face paled.

“What?” Multiple voices shouted at once, all rushing up to the Sheriff to ask him what it was he was thinking.

“This is outrageous!” Your father sneered.

“My daughter would never associate herself with those people!” Your mother glared.

“Who would make those kinds of allegations?” Yeosang asked, his tone deep as he felt angry with someone who would try to frame you like that.

“Ms. Thwaites was a witness during the whole shootout and confessed that she had seen you with the outlaw.” Hendrick’s told you.

Your frown deepened, trying to think about who had seen you with Mingi at all. Seonghwa was the only one and the other men were dead. You suddenly realized that the only reason Mingi had come to save you was because you ran in first to save someone else.

You felt tears welling in your eyes, thinking about how you had saved that girl but she made things out to seem like you were involved in the crime. Your jaw clenched as anger seeped into your body. However, you told yourself over and over again you didn’t know the whole truth. People could have twisted the girl’s words.

“I’ll go to the station.” You spoke up, moving everyone out of the way.

“(Y/N).” Seonghwa called, gripping onto your elbow.

“Everything will be fine.” You told him with a small smile.

You didn’t know how things were going to go and it scared you. But knowing how you were, you had to come up with something to get you out of that scenario. You were always talented when it came to fabricating stories.

With a worried goodbye from your parents, the boys explained to you they would meet you there. The sheriff told them it would be allowed; however, they would have to wait outside. And then the sheriff put you in the carriage to take you downtown.

The building was close to city hall, where the court was. You knew that Yunho and Jongho were both there, a bit hopeful you would get the chance to see them. However, when the sheriff led you to the holding cells, that was when you started to panic.

“It’s protocol, (Y/N).” Hendrick sighed. “No hard feelings.” He was about to turn to leave.

Your hands clenched onto the bars as your breathing began to stagger. Tears fell from your eyes as the feeling of dread washed over your body. “I didn’t do anything.” You cried. “Please, you have to believe me.”

“We have to take all measures.” The sheriff explained.

“No. Just–Please don’t leave me here.” Your knees began to shake, your arms holding you up against the bars. You began to choke on air as your lungs had trouble filling. You wailed, trying to curl up into a ball.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Hendrick started to panic, catching the attention of everyone else.

“Open the door, you dumb shit.” Someone sneered, shoving Hendricks from the cage. They quickly placed the key into the lock, punching the door open with such force it caused the bars to rattle.

“I’m here.” The large person cooed, pulling you into their laps. “You’re okay.” They rocked you back and forth, running a hand down the back of your head.

You clenched onto their clothing, shaking as you tried to calm down from your panic attack.

“What happened to talking with us about everything first?” You heard Jongho sneer from somewhere.

“She was a suspect.” Hendrick glared at the boy.

“She came willingly and is no way a threat to others. Had you asked her, she would’ve sat down at a desk and waited. She is not a criminal.” Jongho glared at the older man.

“How do we know that? I was told she was seen fraternizing with the enemy that night. We have reason to believe that she was involved and gave the wrong story.” Hendrick explained.

“Would she willingly give herself up if that was the case?” Yunho glared, turning his head to look up at the man. “Innocent until proven guilty.”

“How can we be sure she is innocent then if we can’t prove anything?” The sheriff kept prattling off, angry that these boys were undermining him.

“Because she was with me that night.” Yunho declared. “Before Seonghwa went out to see everything she was with me the whole time. I didn’t leave her side until Seonghwa told me about the bodies.”

“You have multiple witnesses who can back that up?” Hendrick glared.

“She was with him. I can vouch for him. I’m not going to go into detail about their relationship because it’s none of your business.” Jongho backed up.

By then, you had calmed down from your attack, hiccuping as you tried to stand up.

“There are protocols we all have to follow. You want answers, (Y/N) will gladly give them to you. There is no need to keep her locked up.” Yunho proclaimed, head tilted up as he stared down at the town sheriff.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with Yunho much other than at the dinner. Compared to Jongho, he was always busy trying to get the town to back off from searching for Mingi. You had thought after this he wouldn’t so much as look at you after making things complicated for them. But after he just defended you, you knew that wasn’t the case.

There was a lot you all needed to talk about, but right now was not that moment.

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @smilingtokki , @fr34k4c1dr41n , @sousydive , @atinyluv238 , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads

247 notes · View notes

hippolotamus · 3 months

Text

Eddie’s thumb hovers over the location dropdown in the weather app, just like every day. And just like all those other days he allows himself to click it. The list unfolds as he huffs a humorless chuckle at how much it’s grown.

When he got his first cell, the only place he ever needed was current location. Technically, it’s still the only one he needs. Regardless he’s continued adding to it through the years. Hershey, Virginia Beach, a couple random towns in the Carolinas, Georgia and Florida. Fucking Sundance, Wyoming. All because he gave up pretending he doesn’t need to know.

It’s sunny, mid-50s today. A nice break for the time of year. Eddie scrolls through the upcoming week, noting a heavy snowstorm hitting in a few days. His nose wrinkles and he begins to worry his bottom lip between his teeth. Another thing born out of pure habit.

Not for the first time he types out a few messages before deleting them again. Eddie doesn’t even know if he’s got the right number. It’s been nearly three years since they exchanged anything at all. Not since Eddie could have manned up and told Shannon he could be a father, but not a husband. Not her husband, anyway.

He could have just been honest and said what he wanted when she finally decided to show up in her second trimester. He and Evan could have continued building a life together. But Eddie’s never claimed to be smart. Especially when it comes to all the bullshit his own dad drilled into his head about responsibility and honor and god knows what the fuck else. In the end it was too sticky to let go, trapping him like a spider web.

He can’t even say it was worth it because she loves him and they’re making it work for the sake of Christopher. Because why would that have happened? Instead all he got was a tour in Afghanistan, divorce papers (not that he’s surprised or blames her at all) and coming back to an empty house. Well, not totally empty. He’s got a son he’s still getting to know outside of a screen and shitty internet connection. A son he could have been raising with the love of his life this whole time.

Hope your coat’s warm enough, cowboy he types.

“Daddy!” Chris babbles from the floor, using Eddie’s pant leg to pull himself to standing. His toothy smile is on full display while he looks up at Eddie like he hung the goddamn moon and stars.

“Hey there little man.” Eddie tosses his phone to the side in favor of picking up his son and arranging him on his lap. Chris snatches up the yellow car from the next couch cushion, choosing to run it in a small loop over Eddie’s forearm, shoulder and chest. “Where are you off to today? Big race?”

Chris shakes his head vigorously. “Outer space,” he says as though that should have been obvious.

Eddie chuckles to himself. “Of course. How long until liftoff?”

There’s no answer as plastic wheels continue zooming along until Chris decides he’d rather be on the floor again. Eddie loosely assists as his son climbs back down. Some days are more difficult than others, but he tries to follow the physical therapist’s advice to let Chris do as much as he can by himself. She says it won’t do either of them any good in the long run. Eddie can certainly see the wisdom in that even if he’s constantly itching to roll Chris in layers of bubble wrap.

He blindly grabs for his phone, buzzing from the coffee table. “Hello?”

At first there’s complete silence and he winces thinking it’s yet another telemarketer. Before he can check he hears rustling, like someone’s covering the mouthpiece.

“Hello?” He asks again, more insistent this time.

“Uh, sorry. Didn’t think you’d actually pick up.”

Eddie thinks he might drop the phone. Or throw up. Maybe both? Probably both.

“Evan?”

tagged by the lovely and talented @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks for Inspiration Saturday (go check their posts, I’m very excited) Instead of working on anything current, I wrote this instead. Not sure I have any actual plans to expand it, I just had to get it out of my system, y’know? So, bon appetit or whatever 💖

no pressure tagging (lmk if you want added or removed) @stereopticons @this-is-bwr @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @tizniz @theotherbuckley @elvensorceress @apothecarose @barbiediaz @buckaroosheart @buddierights @chaosandwolves @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @eowon @fortheloveofbuddie @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @epicbuddieficrecs

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #alternate timeline #eddie is a great dad #hippo writes #buddie wip #maybe????#buddie ficlet #possibly???#idk #inspiration saturday #fic: you can plan for a change in the weather and time #divorced eddie diaz

138 notes · View notes

octuscle · 7 months

Text

Superhero Halloween

Halloween is the time you find the worst of the whole year. The decorations are a huge environmental mess. The candy is bad for children's health. And all the crap costs you a lot of money. For costumes, for example. Your no-good of a son really wanted to be a superhero. He found a dubious store somewhere on the Internet where there were cheap prices. Chronivac or something like that. But the moment the package was delivered, your son loses interest in it. He opens the box, sees that there is only a morphsuit without any sewn-in muscles inside and throws the package right to the side. And yells that he wants to be a cowboy after all. Spoiled pack! It's his mother's fault…

He could have at least put on the costume. One size fits all. Who believes that? Would you fit in it? You've let yourself go a bit since the wedding. 200 pounds. And we're not talking pure muscle mass. You're already pushing a massive paunch in front of you.

You still get curious. You tear open the plastic bag containing the shimmering spandex material. And the moment your hand touches the material, it hits you like a blow. The message "Chronivac Mobile Controller is being installed" appears on the display of your cell phone. What the hell! Okay, now you HAVE to try the costume. Fuck you! One size fits all. Of course you fit in it. But you look like a walrus dressed up as Spiderman. Your display says "Activate costume now". You click on it. And then your eyes go black…

"Spidey, are you okay?" Fuck, you were gone for a few minutes… Your friends look at you worried. You jump up. And say that maybe a spider just bit you. Everyone laughs in relief. Darn, that's your son back there in the cowboy costume. Calm down, maybe you need a glass of water first. How could that fellow be your son? He's probably the same age as you. You're all seniors in high school. But he could work out more. At least he doesn't have your tight ass. Not even in the cheap leatherette chaps that go with his costume.

"Spidey! Spidey! Spidey!" Your friends hoot. Lucky for you, you're still in control of your body after four beers. And your luck that you'll be in your bed by the time your friend's parents come home and realize that their chandelier is no longer hanging…

Found you pic hanging where the chandelier used to hang @tightguys

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #age reduction #halloween tf

198 notes · View notes

yandere-kokeshi · 9 months

Note

Hi:)

Cowboys are the only thing on my mind rn. Like I am down BAD for cowboys. But I got this idea…

Any yandere spiderverse character x cowboy reader 🤭

Warnings: yandere behavior and talks about cowboy shtuff

A/N: I love your thinking!! This is such a cute idea, istg. I added two characters totally, enjoy my love <3

Hobie Brown:

He thinks you’re so badass and incredibly attractive. He finds your taste in style pretty unique and your western accent so fucking attractive.

If you wear a western hat, you can bet Hobie will tease you so much and often grab it off you, waving it above you to see how you’ll react. Nevertheless, he finds you cute with it on.

With your style of clothing, Hobie is the type to have something similar for the both of you to wear, so people know you two belong to each other. Hobie will likely give you a necklace, or a keychain to go around your belt loops.

Isn’t really all that interested in learning how to ride a horse, but he does enjoy seeing you ride – especially staring at your muscled thighs from behind. If you’re a Spider person, you can bet Hobie will jump on the back of your horse to check up on you before swinging off in the middle of combat.

If you have a ranch, he will try to help, but he ends up just messing with the cattle and making sure they do mischievous things; finding your annoyed state funny. But! He will help you groom the horses and feed the animals.

At your ranch, he’ll try to make a little competition with things – such as who can lift more hay barrels, feed the most animals, etc.

Will definitely go out of his way to buy sugar cubes or snacks for your horse(s), rubbing their chin and patting their neck. Probably has a superb relationship with them.

Loves to call you outlaw, (his) cowboy, dusty boots, and buckaroo.

Will sometimes poke at your accent, even though he loves it a lot. And yes, he will playfully correct your grammar when you say things a bit off.

Miles Morales:

Thinks you’re the coolest person ever. Loves your style, your accent, and everything you do. He has a sketchbook dedicated to you, colored in pretty Western colors.

If you have a horse, you can bet Miles will be mouth wide and immediately run up to the horse, trying to pet them and ask you all sorts of questions about them. By the time his rambling shuffles down, Miles realizes he’s probably overwhelmed the horse and asks what he can do not to scare your best friend so much.

Absolutely asks if he can ride with you, or if you can teach him how to ride. He’s a slow learner, but, with your guidance and reassuring comforts, he becomes more comfortable riding. Although, he does whine about his body hurting afterward.

Your accent is so attractive to him. He’ll be looking at you like you’re the world’s best singer when you’re telling a funny story.

You can also bet he’ll be going with you to rodeos, being the few people in the crowd who’s cheering you on very loudly.

Watches you in awe when you lasso things, especially him. Again, will ask if you can teach him to how to use a lasso and make one.

Doesn’t really say a lot of nicknames, but at times Miles will say: boots, mustang, and hoss.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

296 notes · View notes

ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year

Note

cowboy!reader i feel would be a big baker. casually just bringing in bread and cookies. one of the other agents is sick? they get dropped off their favorite treats and a water bottle. bad day? cookies on your desk the next day. i also feel like he would be a gardener or at the very least have an unhealthy amount of house plants. also a bird watcher. i have so many ideas oh boy.

- 🦦 (if not taken)

🦦isn't taken (I didn't even realise it was an emoji omg it's so cute) Also send me all the ideas please!!!

Cowboy reader taglist: (it's only one person but let me know if you wanna be tagged lol) @xweirdo101x

"Hey, y'all does anyone have any allergies?" You asked, walking into work one morning, tupperware box in hand.

"No," Hotch answered, before looking at you slightly cautiously. "Why?"

"I er, I was feeling, um, anxious? I guess," You said, placing your hat on your desk and dragging your hand over your hair, "So I baked. And I thought, since there's only me and I got a bit carried away, that y'all might want some?"

Spencer peaked over, "What's in the tub?"

"Oh, er, my Grandmama's cookies," You said with a grin as you pointed at the top tub, "And my Mama's sourdough bread."

A few days passed since then and you had made a habit of bringing in a tub of baked goods each day (you weren't lying when you said you have baked a lot). You got in early, expecting to be the first one there when you noticed Spencer sat at his desk, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Spence, you feeling a'right?" You asked, approaching the younger agent. Spencer looked at you giving a small nod. Seeing him hesitate, you sat down next to him, "I know I ain't a 'talk about my feelin's' kinda man, but I'm here if you wanna talk,"

"I- Cases like this make me wonder if I'm even making a difference."

You take a moment to let what he's saying sink in, "Kid, I want you to know that what I'm about to say is comin' from the bottom of my heart... But we'd be stuck six cases ago if it weren't for you." You state, "You're the reason we get through so many cases - don't tell Penelope I said that - but it's true. I ain't a man of feelin's and sentimental words, but you're the reason this team keeps goin'. Please don't even doubt yourself, because you're the most valuable member of this team."

Spencer doesn't say anything, just continues staring at his hands, "I- I'm not quite sure what to say to that..."

"There's nothin' to say, Kid." You give him a grin, "I'm just spittin' truth... Now don't tell anyone, but I got some cookies in my bag if you want 'em?" When Spencer nods, you fish through the bag, grabbing the box and hand them over. "Let me know what you think, I tried somethin' different."

"Thanks," He says softly, standing up to head to the breakroom.

"Oh, and er, don't forget to hydrate and all that," You add before making your way to your desk.

Bonus: The team meet (Y/N)'s house plants.

"This is Wyatt," You said, "He's a spider plant. And my baby," The team share a confused look, "And this is Percy, he's a money tree. These are my children and if anything happened to them I would cry."

"What about the others?"

"I haven't gotten round to naming them all just yet," You said with a shrug, "They're all new purchases,"

"How new?"

"Last month or so," You said, "I buy one or two after a hard case... We have a lot of hard cases..."

Silence filled the air, no one quite sure what to say, "Anyone want a cookie?" You asked, "I baked them last night,"

You watched the team fight for the box with a confused look.

#cowboy reader #reader #male reader #male!reader #x male reader #criminal minds fanficiton #criminal minds fanfictions #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia #bau x cowboy reader #bau x reader #bau x male reader

561 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 9 months

Text

part one

———

Lance has no idea how powerful he truly is.

Seriously. Completely oblivious. He’s convinced that he’s the only one on the team who’s not powerful — and Keith knows this because those are the words Lance said with his own mouth. He’s so convinced that power is Shiro’s strength, Pidge’s intelligence, Hunk’s wit and compassion, Allura’s regality, and Coran’s wisdom. He’s even completely sure that Keith has power in his speed and initiative.

Somehow, though, the heart of Voltron does not know how he holds everyone in the palm of his hand. He does not see the picture of terror he makes; jaw clenched, brown eyes flashing with determination, back straight and shoulders set, demonic spider at his side, telepathic mice gathered on his head, poisonous, sentient vine wrapped around him — and the spirts of two lions, red and blue, growling in tandem behind him as he swears that no harm will come to the beast by Voltron’s hand.

Lance did not see the fear in the dignitary’s face. He did not notice his team staring at him with wide eyes, leaning far away from him and his own army. He did not see the pure, concentrated power rippling from him in waves.

If Keith’s being totally, completely honest, it’s kind of hot.

But it’s also a pain in the ass. As much as Lance’s greatest strength is in convincing people to listen to him, when he sets stubborn eyes on a task, the Universe herself cannot sway him. Keith has a snowball’s chance in hell of managing either.

“Just try,” Shiro pleads. “Please. Attempt to convince him that, as much as it sucks, killing the damn beast is the easiest way to secure this alliance and move on.”

“Shiro, your braincells are spilling out your ears like loose marbles if you think that I can convince him to even listen to the words I will attempt to say.”

“Holy idiom, there, cowboy,” Pidge teases, and Keith breaks away from the intense stare-down with his brother to stick his tongue out and shoot her the finger.

“That’s a normal idiom. Sorry that you grew up in Michigan where the most interesting insult you ever hear is someone saying please with a little more passive aggression than usual.”

“…Alright. Point to Keith.”

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.”

“Paladins!” Allura snaps, ignoring Hunk’s smartass comment that she is also, actually, a paladin, and as such is included in such snappish remarks and thus has lost a good chunk of ethos. “Focus! Stars, it’s like I have to do everything around here. Keith. Put your big boy pants on.”

Shiro chokes with laughter, desperately trying to pretend it’s really a cough, but it fools no one.

God, those two need to stop hanging out together. Shiro is dragging Allura down to his level. Poor woman.

“Talk to Lance,” she continues. “He only really listens to you.”

Keith looks at her incredulously. “Listens to me — have I missed something? I asked Lance to lead a briefing yesterday and he asked me what deity died and made me king of the jungle. He doesn’t listen to a goddamn word I say.”

Allura raises an eyebrow. “Did he?”

“Did he what?”

“Lead the briefing yesterday?”

Keith deflates. Because, well. “Yeah,” he mutters.

“So you’re just being a pussy, then,” she summarizes – why does Pidge insist on teaching her modern slang and why does she like it so much – and this time Shiro doesn’t even pretend he’s coughing. Hunk and Pidge also lose their shit.

“I resent that,” Keith says haughtily, denying nothing.

“Yeah. Okay. Off you go. Convince him to at least attempt to hear us out.”

Keith sighs, but does as asked, making his way to his and Lance’s rooms. He decides to take a minute and gather his thoughts — see, he’s learning, look at how not-impulsive he’s being — and heads to his room first.

When he gets there, he spends a few meditating beside his bed — he’d rather stick a hot iron through his eye than admit it, but Shiro and Black may be a little, teensy, itty-bitty bit correct about taking time to gather up thoughts and reflect or whatever.

Just as he’s about to get up and knock on Lance’s door, he hears Coran’s heeled boots click down the hallway.

Oh, fuck yes. If Coran talks to Lance, he might actually listen without argument! Lance has no issue following Coran’s instructions!

…On the other hand, Coran’s just as much of a — and Keith says this with all the fondness in his heart, believe him, if he didn’t find it so damn endearing he would not be spending his nights imagining what will happen when he finally grows enough of a pair to ask Lance on a date — tree-hugger as Lance is. He won’t be happy about the beast killing either.

But, hey. Coran’s a wise guy. It’s probably fine.

Just in case, though, he gets up as quietly as he can — he knows Lance’s goddamn bat ears will hear him if his fucking heart beats too loudly — and leans against the door to hear their conversation.

“Lance, dear, I was just coming to find you,” Coran says.

So far, so good. If Coran was already trying to find Lance, it was probably to try and gently convince him that saving the beast might not be the best option, right?

Keith heart sinks a little as a new thought worms into his brain: maybe, Lance isn’t just being stubborn, and he’s actually upset. Maybe Coran is going to make sure Lance is feeling okay, like a good person.

…Yeah. That’s more likely. Keith kind of feels like a jackass.

He startles out of his thoughts as Coran’s voice, notably louder than before, speaks again.

“Well, if you’re really feeling so much better, would you mind helping me recalibrate the fabricator?”

“Absolutely,” Lance says, and he does sound remarkably happier than he did when he stomped out of the bridge.

Huh. Maybe Lance convinced himself…?

As he thinks it, he knows it’s not true. But it might not be best to bring it up now, then. He’s only just gotten into a good mood, it will probably be better to bring it up over dinner, or something, when the good mood has enough time to settle properly.

Keith nods to himself. Yeah. That’s totally not an excuse because he doesn’t want Lance to look at him in complete betrayal again when Keith attempts to convince him that saving the beast is not an option, or anything.

Right.

Totally.

———

part three

289 notes · View notes

drefear · 10 months

Text

They Know (Drabble)

I got this from a post by @miggyyyyohara

TW: violence, a little bit of smut, nothing else really. (Second hand embarrassment?)

It wasn’t an easy mission.

Usually, Miguel and Jess could handle things just the two of them, and the other teams could handle the smaller anomalies. Gwen, Hobie, and Pav were a team, Ben, Lego Peter, and cowboy Spider worked together sometimes, and the list went on. Today, a Lizard got through to Earth -1563 and Miguel called for backup, which was something he genuinely hated doing. When he didn’t see any portals opening after a few minutes, he made a second call.

Swiftly, Ben, Gwen, and Hobie popped through.

“Where’s Jess?” He yelled, anger bubbling at having to deal with the others- mainly Hobie.

“Jess is having bad morning sickness!” Gwen called out, swinging to land a blow to the Lizards abdomen, until its claws dug into her suit and threw her into the concert wall.

“It’s 4pm!”

“Innit funny how it can come at any time but it’s called mornin’ sickness?” Hobie smashed his guitar over the Lizards head, but it barely flinched and he moved backward to save Gwen. The portal opened again and Miles and Pav ran in, glancing around at the bloodied Gwen and exhausted others.

“Take Gwen somewhere safe, Pav.” Miguel instructed and Pav nodded, then pulled Gwen into his arms and ran back into the portal. Miguel glared at the green being, whose strength seemed to be a bit much to handle for the group.

“Hobie, Miles, use the electricity powers to stop that thing, Ben and I will keep it busy until you do and when you can, trap it.” He instructed and Miles nodded, as Hobie sighed.

“I’m only listenin’ cause that’s what I was thinkin’ a doin’.” Hobie then went with Miles to start shooting webs, making a decent trap for the large anomaly.

Meanwhile, Miguel and Ben fought against the large reptile villain. Ben flipping and narrating everything made Miguel practically seethe with irritation. He would remind the Spider-Man to stop doing that.

“Now!” The two boys shouted and Miguel flipped out of the way. He caught sight of Ben, who obviously didn’t hear the signal, and continued to fight the Lizard.

Miguel jumped and soared to Ben, pushing him out of the way, but he was a bit late.

The electric currents from the two younger spider-boys shot through their webbing and into Miguel, as well as the Lizard.

While the beast was indeed captured, Miguel caught a breeze against his skin as he felt his suit malfunction. Glaring at the ground, he stood with his backside to the group as they stared at him. He huffed and spoke.

“Lyla, use my emergency application suit.”

“Nice buns-“

“Lyla!” He growled and she immediately covered his body with a new suit, rolling his shoulders in the holographic fabric. It was a bit tighter than the newer one, now having his new measurements, but still working to keep him modest.

Later once he was back on his platform, he ran diagnostics on his suit, fixing the technology and trying to find a way to not let Miles and Hobies powers affect it so much to where he’s completely naked every time. Hearing footsteps, he turned and hit a button to lower the platform.

“So I heard the mission was a success.” Peter spoke, lightly teasing the bigger of the two as he hopped onto the platform. A few others were behind the father and Miguel heard a few stifled laughs.

“It was. Now spit it out.” He glowered, waiting for the punchline to whatever ridiculous joke the group was trying to make. Turning around, he saw Gwen, Pav, Miles, Hobie, Jess, and Peter. Miguel folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at them all.

“We got a good look at ya backside.” Hobie stated and the others looked at Miguel with smiles.

“It’s the same as anyone else’s, don’t be immature.”

“It definitely was not the same as everyone else’s.” Miles mumbled, making Miguel’s eyes snap to his with a lingering question in them.

“I mean, sometimes my back looks a bit like that, depends when my girl is ova or not.” Hobie smirks, winking at Pav as he lets out a laugh.

“What?” Miguel asks, still confused.

“Miguel- can you take the back of your suit down? Just your back, not your butt?” Jess asks, making the large man think for a second. Without another thought, he lets the back of his suit dissolve and Gwen gasps. Jess and peter stand, eyes wide, and finally Peter clears his throat.

“I think the kids have some sort of paperwork to do.” Peter moves to rush them all out, Hobie shaking his head.

“Finished it all, so who’s the lucky lady?” He dodged Peter’s grasp before he can push him out of the room, making everyone stop.

Miguel furrows his brows. “I don’t understand, is there something-“

And then you walk in.

A bouncy little pep in your step, making him want to pepper kisses all over your face, and his face relaxes a bit. You’re in mostly casual clothing, shorts and a t-shirt with those cute little boots he loves so much. You two had been dating secretly, not wanting the spider society to make a big deal of it.

“Who’s got a lucky lady?” You inquire and Hobie nods to Miguel.

“Big boss man’s got some serious evidence of a good night all ova ‘is back. We’re just asking who could he be smashin’.”

Silence covers the room as Miguel finally understands.

He immediately covers his back.

He was with you last night.

You, with your legs around his waist as he sunk into you over and over, causing you both to practically break the sound barrier with your moans. You with your nails dragging all across his back, your mouth leaving hickeys all over his skin, and Miguel returning the favor. Him, leaving hand shaped bruises on your thighs.

Ones that were very visible right now in those little shorts.

Your eyes swelled as you somewhat understood what you just waltzed in on.

“W-wow, maybe I shouldn’t be here right now-“

“And what are those?” Hobie bends down to your thighs, making you freeze as you and Miguel refuse to break eye contact.

“You have a secret partner too?” Pav asks, shock filling his voice. Gwen and Hobie look at each other as it sinks in and Miles takes a step back to the door.

“I-I got those on a mission.” You sputter, trying to save some face.

“The hickeys and fang-marks too?” Jess crossed her arms, not believing you as you just shrugged, face red as a beet.

“Everyone get out!” Miguel roared, embarrassed by the obvious being revealed.

“Fine, but try not to get distracted, yeah?” Hobie says, strolling out with his hands in his pockets. Gwen follows him out with a hand covering her face while Miles drags out Pav, who just keeps trying to ask questions. Jess and Peter glance back to you and Miguel, before Peter mumbles a happy little ‘good for them,’ and Jess pulls him away.

You two stare at each other before he sighs as you ask,

“You think they know?”

“They know.”

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut

208 notes · View notes

kairiscorner · 9 months

Note

reader creating silly miguel emojis and sending them tk the spider society gc for everyone to use bc shes a fun gal ;p (and she likes annoying him too)

fr. (did i legit make a whole ass dc server for this? yes.) sorry i didn't change my display name to y/n, i got lazy 😭😭😭 also written ver with additional scenes under the cut !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

shitting on miggy cutely. 🫶— miguel o'hara x reader

✧ written version !! ✧

after lyla had signed miguel up for a discord account, much to his frustration, you immediately got a hold of his username (which was really generic, he named himself: 'miguelohara' at first, but lyla changed it up to: 'migolohellnawh') and added him to the spider society's discord server. you made a channel that was dedicated to showing miguel all the stickers and emojis you and the society had made that was just full of memes of miguel. thanks to earth-928's social media, you were all fed with silly stickers and emojis of him for days; you all had a spam channel where hobie and pav would have contests to see whose thumbs could spam more miguel shitpost memes, but that would be a story for another day.

as miguel got notified that he was added to a server, the first thing that caught his eye was the vulgarly named channel of the server: "shitting on miggy". he brought his eyebrows together and tapped on the bold text of the channel's name. he asked what that channel was for, pointing out the name in a disappointed manner as he typed. lyla giggled under her breath as she watched miguel try to act intimidating and angry over text, but his scrunched up face crinkled even more as he saw that the first thing you sent him was a sticker of his stern, stoic face that had the words: "this ugly son of a bitch is fucking super hot chicks and basically you are fucking stupid. how? ...just watch the free video."

miguel had clicked the sticker, and he saw the file name: "singlehotmominyourarea". he huffed as he texted you, asking you what that was that you sent, because he thought it was an actual link to something. he took his reading glasses and, when he could make out what it said, he got angrier than he already was earlier. he told you what you sent was not at all funny, and when you replied that—no, it certainly wasn't... it was very hysterical, though—you sent him a very pink and cutesy sticker of him with cat ears. miguel groaned as lyla took a hundred screenshots remotely from his phone. "where are you even getting these?" he asked you as you kept sending him more shitpost stickers.

"but i don't even like horses." miguel muttered as he saw the "save a horse, ride a cowboy" sticker you sent. "yeah, you're scared of them." lyla reminded him as he rolled his eyes. "no need to remind me." he said as he typed out that he 'hated' (didn't fear, there's a difference, and that is that miguel is fucking lying, he is scared of horses) horses. but of course, you knew his secret, and miguel pounded his fist against the arm of his computer chair. "are you seriously telling them on your end?" he asked lyla as she stuck her tongue out and shrugged, looking all smug as miguel grumbled and told you that he didn't ask for your correction, only for you to send an emoji of your favorite girl dinner: his five course meal ass on display.

"yeah, you need ass correction 'bee cee' this bakery is packed; what...?" he read aloud as lyla groaned. "get with the times, old man." "we don't say stuff like that in 2099 anymore, don't tell me to get with the times." he told his AI assistant as he looked through the emoji catalogue you guys had, and among them all, a colorful one stood out to him and he sent it—hoping you could tell him what was on the emoji, but knowing you, you'd of course mess with him again. you told him the emoji, which was promptly named: "doublecheekedup", meant the very sticker you sent him in response. it was similar to the cat-eared one, but it read: "i <3 my girlfriend", with miguel's angry face in the heart.

miguel looked at it all confused and pulled his reading glasses away from his face and back on to see if he was reading this right. he asked you if he was supposed to be flattered about your sticker, with him immediately following up with his honest opinion; that it was irritating instead of flattering to him. you told him the sticker was more 'sexy' than it was irritating or flattering, and you soon sent him another sticker, where he was diving face first with his legs spread and bottom out. miguel looked at it all baffled and flustered, where were you getting these photos...?

you asked him who he was spreading for, asking if it was you, while sending him an emoji with his back turned to the camera and his ginormous bottom in full view. miguel couldn't make out the text in the emoji and told you the text was too minute for him to read it. he also cleared up that he wasn't intentionally spreading his cheeks for anyone, he had just 'stumbled'. "sure ya did." lyla said as she appeared over miguel's shoulder with a smug grin on her face. "i really didn't, though." miguel said as lyla nodded slowly, her smug grin not leaving her face as miguel saw your next message. "because you wanted to spread your asscheeks for me, i didn't spread for anybody!" he screamed aloud in the confines of his office, pounding his fist on the arm of his computer chair as you sent the girl dinner emoji that was the very profile picture of the spider society's discord server.

miguel was heated in the face and heaving... oh, was there some unspoken feelings he was hiding about your little provocative words? maybe... he might sound like he wants out of the server immediately, but deep in his heart, he'd stay; even if you'd annoy the shit out of him with those damned emojis and stickers. they were irritating, yes, and maybe just the tiniest bit flattering in a twisted way for him. "wow, you're a masochist." lyla pointed out as miguel mumbled for her to shut up, but she was right as always.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

158 notes · View notes

elusivewildflower · 1 year

Text

Wide Open Spaces | Cowboy!Court x F!Reader

Pairing: Cowboy!Court Gentry x F!Reader

Summary: After ending your five-year relationship, you find out your beloved Aunt left you her small Ranch out in the country. Desperate to get away from the city, you happily up and move several states away for a fresh start. What happens when you find out your new neighbor is a hot single dad? (Court and Claire have taken on their new life of father & daughter after the events of the movie and settled down on a ranch.)

Warnings: Court being a sexy Cowboy, Claire meddling in Court's love life, and mentions of a deceased family member.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I haven't posted anything in FOREVER, and honestly....I have missed it. The new photos of Ryan have inspired me to write a fic (that will probably turn into a series) about Cowboy Court. I hope you all love this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

As you stepped out of your car, you sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. It was so much different than the city air you had been breathing for the last five years. There was none of the usual exhaust fumes, cigarette smoke, and the lingering smell of fast food from two blocks away here. You cast your gaze over the home your aunt had left you when she passed. It had been years since you’d been here, and it looked like it had been quite a while since anyone had. The house wasn’t in total disrepair, but it was clear that no one had lived here in the three years your aunt was in assisted living. The wooden steps beneath your feet creaked as you climbed them, the railing wobbly when you placed your hand on it. Your nose scrunched in disgust as you had to bat away a few cobwebs, thankful that there weren’t any spiders on them at the time. You dug your new set of keys out from your purse and pushed it into the lock. A smile crept across your face as the lock twisted easily, but when you simply pushed on the door to open, it wouldn’t budge.

After putting all of your weight against the door, you nearly barreled through it into your aunt’s foyer. Well, you supposed it was yours now. As you maneuvered into the living room, a sneeze overcame you. Wow, you were going to have to put dusting at the top of your list. All of your aunt’s furniture sat right where she left it, just coated in a heavy layer of dust. The style wasn’t exactly to your taste, but it was better than having nothing. Sure, you had some furniture back in the city, but it was easier just to leave it there. Those pieces held too many memories that you wanted to forget, and it made it easier to move several states away without any help. After all, with your aunt gone now, all you had was, well, you.

As you explored the house, grimacing at the state of a few rooms, you found yourself back in the kitchen. It was going to be difficult, but this fresh start was exactly what you needed. Leaning yourself against the sink, you gazed out the window in front of you. Your aunt’s land wasn’t ginormous by any means, but there was a stable for horses, a small barn, and plenty of fenced in yard. In the distance, you could see a man on a horse. You assumed that must be your new neighbor. He was too far away to notice much, but the cowboy hat on his head and tan leather jacket that covered his broad shoulders was enough to intrigue you. The sudden sound of a knock on your door pulled you from your staring.

“I’m coming,” you called out as you made your way back to the foyer. You certainly weren’t expecting any visitors, but you figured it was probably the wife of the man you had just been ogling from a distance. However, when you opened the door, you were greeted by a girl who looked no older than sixteen.

“Uh, hello,” you greeted.

A wide smile was spread across the girl’s face. “Hi! I’m Claire, your new neighbor.” She gestured towards the land besides yours, and for the first time you noticed the plate of cookies in her hand. “Can I come in? I made these for you.”

You let a smile grace your features as you nodded and took a step back. “Of course, come on in.” As Claire stepped into your home, you felt the need to apologize for the state of it. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess.” You began as you led her towards the kitchen.

Claire shook her head, cutting you off. “No, it’s okay. No one’s been here in years.” She glanced around as she followed you. “I actually met your aunt right before she went into assisted living about three years ago.” She admitted. “She was a really nice lady.”

You nodded your head solemnly as you thought of your recently deceased family member. “Yeah, she was.” A wave of guilt washed over you as you wished you had visited her more often, or you know, at all. But, you were busy living your life and always put it off.....You called her monthly, sometimes weekly, but you never stepped foot onto a plane to come and visit. You always thought you’d have more time. Sadly, you’ve found out that isn’t how life works.

It was like Claire felt the shift in you and decided to talk about something else. “It’s nice to have a new neighbor. It gets lonely out here sometimes.”

That caught your attention. Surely, a girl her age must have friends. You furrowed your brows as you looked her over. “Lonely? How so?”

Claire set the plate of cookies down on the dusty counter. You made a mental note that you really needed to get started on cleaning. The younger girl then shrugged her shoulders. “Well, it’s just me and my dad, and he’s fairly protective. I’m homeschooled, so I don’t get out much.” She admitted.

A frown pulled at the corner of your lips. “Mm, I suppose father’s are always good at that, aren’t they?” You questioned rhetorically as you thought of your own father. Vaguely recalling when you were her age and how your father wouldn’t let you stay out past nine o’clock.

Claire nodded in agreement as she absentmindedly brushed a finger across the countertop. “Is it just you moving in?” She asked curiously, her head tilting to the side as she eyed you over.

Something about the look in her eyes made you a bit uneasy, like she was sizing you up. Whatever for, you had no clue. You shifted your weight onto your other leg as you nod. “Yeah, just me. My aunt was the only family I had left, and, uh, I’m newly single.” You explained very briefly.

“Newly?” Claire prodded on that last piece of information you gave.

You blew out a puff of air. Did you really need to be telling your sob story to a sixteen year old? You were silent for a moment as you contemplated. The look in her eyes made her seem older, and she had been nice thus far. What did it hurt? Other than perhaps your ego for your first new friend being a teenager.

“Uh, yeah. I found out my boyfriend of five years had been cheating on me, shortly after I learned about the death of my aunt.” Shrugging your shoulders, you continued. “So, I packed up everything that truly mattered, and I came here.”

Claire scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Ugh, men.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that response. “My thoughts exactly.” You agreed with a heavy sigh.

Claire looked around the room for a moment before something in the window caught her eye. “Well, I’ll leave you to unpack. If you need any help, just give me a call, yeah? And if you need help with repairs, my dad had to fix a lot of stuff when we first moved into our house. I’m sure he can help.” She extended the offer as she pulled out her phone and asked for your number. Once your contact was safely in her phone and she had sent you a text, she let herself out of your back door.

You moved to the sink and watched as she wandered off towards what must have caught her eye. The man you had seen earlier, her father, was at the edge of your property on his horse, staring at your house. That is, until he spotted Claire and his head turned to acknowledge her. You couldn’t tell what they were saying, but the tanned man in the cowboy hat gave your house one last look as Claire hopped up onto the horse to join him before riding off towards their home.

Once they were out of your sight, you turned to face the disaster of a house you now owned and heaved a sigh. It was time to start hauling all of your things in and pick a room upstairs to call your own. Then, you would get started on dusting.

Morning came all too soon for you after staying up late last night dusting every inch of the house. But, at least you wouldn’t have a sneezing fit every time you entered a room anymore. It really wasn’t all that early, but with the long days of travel, emotional and physical baggage you’d been carrying, you felt as if you could sleep all day. However, you had too much work to do for that. So, you pulled yourself from bed and got dressed into some casual clothing. A white tank top and denim shorts, something to keep you cool while you clean.

After taking care of getting yourself ready, you made your way down to the kitchen. Sadly, your aunt didn’t even have an old-fashioned coffee pot and you begrudgingly accepted that you would have to make due without any caffeine. This wasn’t the city, and there was no easy way to doordash your morning fix. You heaved a sigh and made your way to the kitchen sink, intending to twist the knob and turn on warm water. But, it was stuck. You sighed again in frustration, wondering how many things in this house were going to require more strength than you possessed in order to work. You beared down harder on the knob, and felt a streak of pride as it finally turned. That is, until the knob came off right in your hand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” You stared at the handle in disbelief for a moment before the sound of rushing water reached your ears. Dumbfounded, you stared at the faucet. There wasn’t any water coming from it. Where was it…? Oh no.

Realization hit as you hurriedly bent down to rip open the cabinet beneath the sink. There was water gushing from….somewhere. You weren’t a plumber and without caffeine your brain still felt like mush. You cursed, several times actually, and then began to panic. You tried twisting the other knob to the sink, but it did absolutely nothing. At least it didn’t break off like the other, though. You had no idea where the water shut-off valve was in the house and you stood helplessly as you watched your kitchen floor begin to flood.

Come on, do something! You thought to yourself, trying to come up with a plan. Towels. Finally, there was an idea. Surely your aunt had to have a spare linen closet around here, right? You frantically searched for one until you found it near the mud room, grabbing as many linens as you could carry and rushing back to the kitchen. Unfortunately, the water had spread since you had left, and you slipped, landing on the hard linoleum floor. The towels you were carrying also fell, at least beginning to soak up the water. As you slowly rose to your feet, your white tank top and shorts now soaked, you realized the towels were hardly helping the problem. Grabbing your phone, you called the only person you could think of.

Claire.

It was answered on the second ring. “Hello?” Came the familiar voice of the girl you had met just yesterday.

“Claire!” You exclaimed in relief. “Do you know any plumbers? I think a pipe burst in my kitchen sink and it’s gushing water and I have no idea where the shut-off is.” You rambled out frantically.

“I’ll go get my dad, he’ll be right there!”

You shook your head, that wasn’t what you had asked. “No, wait–” you began to protest, but the girl had already hung up.

Claire must work fast, because you swore it was only a matter of minutes before you heard a knock at your front door. Your feet carried you as fast as you could without slipping on the hardwood floors of the house. You were going to have to throw your shoes outside to dry after this. As you slung open the front door, you stopped in your tracks.

Wow. You knew Claire’s father was handsome even from a distance, but you didn’t expect him to be this handsome. He was a bit older than you, but he had to be, to have a daughter that was Claire’s age. The only thing that gave away his age, though, were the fine lines he had begun to develop on his brow and around his eyes. His short, blonde, hair was messy without a single strand of gray insight. He must’ve come from working in the yard because his white t-shirt that fit him perfectly was slightly dirty, his arms and face were covered in a bit of dirt and dust, along with a thin sheen of sweat. As your eyes trailed down his form, you noticed the toolbelt he wore around his waist, and the new pipe that he held in his tattooed hand. You only caught a glimpse of his brown cowboy boots before he cleared his throat to gain your attention. Shit, had you really been staring for that long?

You rose your eyes to meet his keen blue ones as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. He was staring directly at your face. Maybe, if you hadn’t been so distracted, you might’ve noticed it was because your top was completely see-through from being soaked.

“I, uh, heard you’ve got a leak?” His smooth voice graced your ears, and successfully pulled you back to the issue at hand.

You moved away from the door so that he could enter, gesturing for him to come inside. “Yes, a big one,” you answered hurriedly. As he stepped inside, you saw his horse waiting for him in your front lawn. Ah, that was how he got here so quickly.

You didn’t need to show him where the kitchen was. He either was smart enough to have an idea, as you assumed all of the old houses out here were set up similarly, or he followed the sound of water. He let out a curse under his breath as he saw what he was faced with. “Yeah, that’s a big one alright,” he agreed with your earlier sentiment before dropping down to his knees and immediately getting to work.

Within seconds, his tee was completely soaked like yours. But, it didn’t seem to bother him. His hands were moving faster than you could comprehend, using his pure strength to unscrew the pipe that was broken so that he could get the new one installed. He let out a few grunts as he worked, and all you could do was lean yourself against the island and watch. The muscles in his arms bulged as he exerted his strength against the pipe. His slightly tanned skin was on full display now that his shirt was transparent, and you could even make out a bit of the tattoo he had on his chest. Your eyes happily drank in the sight of his chiseled torso. At this moment, you were almost thanking your ex for cheating on you and your aunt for leaving you this house because without all of those things coming together, you would’ve never been able to experience this. An attractive, hard working man at work. Your eyes drifted from his torso to take in the gruesome scar he had on his left arm, curious to know how that came to be.

What felt like an hour to your daydreaming self, was really only a matter of minutes before Claire’s father had your leak fixed. Or, at least, one of them. You couldn’t help but realize the sight before you, and the grunting sounds he let out whilst working, had awakened something within. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time. And you didn’t even know his name.

Movement pulled you from your thoughts, and you realized that he was coming out from underneath the sink. You had to act as if you hadn’t been gawking at him this entire time, and instead stared at the floor that was covered in soaked towels. The sound of running water pulled your attention back to the sink, and you found that he was also staring at the faucet that was still running. Right, the knob broke too.

He gave a nod as he realized the next issue. “Right, well at least it’s not flooding your kitchen anymore.” He turned his head to look at you briefly before looking back to the faucet. “I probably have a spare around, if not, I’ll run out and grab one.” He explained with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

You were quick to shake your head. “You don’t need to do that,” you began. “I can run out to the store and grab one.” You glanced down at yourself, finally realizing that you had put on a hot pink bra this morning and your still-soaked tank was completely transparent. “....Right after I change.” You felt heat creep up your neck once more as embarrassment overcame you.

When you glanced back over at him, he was quick to avert his eyes. “Really, I don’t mind. Your aunt was very nice to Claire and I when we first moved in. She personally made us about a week’s worth of food, I think.” He explained, letting out a chuckle.

You bit down on your bottom lip. That certainly sounded like something your aunt would do, and if this attractive man wanted to help you as a repayment, then you supposed you could oblige. “Fine, I’ll accept your help. On one condition.” You paused, watching as he rose a brow at you, urging for you to go on. “You tell me your name so I don’t have to call you Claire’s father.” You finished with a grin.

A smile of his own crossed his features and those wrinkles in the corner of his eyes deepened. “You can call me Court.”

“Thank you, Court, for saving my entire house from being flooded.” You spoke with a laugh as you looked down at your kitchen floor.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t stop it before the kitchen flooded,” he responded. “Speaking of, do you wanna go get changed and I’ll help you clean up before I fix the faucet?”

You glanced down at yourself once more, and with a moment of confidence, you shook your head. “No, I’m sure you’ve already seen it, so what does it matter?” You asked rhetorically. “Besides, it wouldn’t really be fair for only one of us to be wet, now would it?”

Court paused to look at you, seemingly analyzing your choice of words. You watched as his eyes flashed down to your chest before he shook his head. “I suppose not.” He spoke, moving to pick up the water-logged towels on the floor.

A few minutes into picking up the strewn about linens and you heard Court curse.

“Shit.”

You turned to look at him, worry in your brow. “What?” You questioned.

“A piece of your linoleum was lifted up, water got all underneath.” There was a pause. “I’m gonna have to replace your floor.”

“Shit,” you echoed.

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow.” He stated nonchalantly.

You stopped in your tracks. Here this man was, a stranger, really, volunteering to spend a day replacing your flooring? “Court, really, you don’t have to. I can hire someone to fix it.”

Court shook his head. “It’s not a problem. Like I said, your aunt was a nice lady.”

“She was so nice that you’d spend an entire day of labor replacing her niece’s kitchen floor?” You asked in disbelief. If this were the city, you’d never find a man offering to replace your flooring for free.

Turning his head to finally look at you, Court smirked. “For her niece that’s as pretty as you? Yeah, I’d do a lot of things.”

Any retort you could think of making died on your tongue and Court went back to picking up linens with that smug smirk on his face. You felt as if your brain had short-circuited. Did he just flirt with you? After a moment, you shook yourself out of your stupor and resumed picking up the towels.

The two of you carried your heaping piles of soaked towels to the mud room, where you began loading up the washer. As Court stood there watching you, you turned towards him.

“Can I at least make you and Claire dinner tonight to show thanks?” You canted your head as you awaited his response.

Court’s tongue darted across his lower lip. “I’ll allow it.” He agreed with a nod, then motioned towards the hallway with his head. “I’ll be back soon to fix your faucet, alright?”

You nodded, watching as he turned and left. After you heard your front door close shut, you placed your head in your hands. Your life felt like an absolute train wreck at the moment, but somehow you knew it was only going to get better. Your aunt always swore moving out here would be better for you than your life in the city. You didn’t used to believe her, but after today? You were starting to realize she might’ve been right.

Now, you need to plan for dinner. Fuck. Why didn’t you ask him what his favorite food was? You have no idea what to make. Slapping yourself on the forehead, you let out a groan before making your way up to your bedroom to get changed.

“Easy, girl.” Court called to his horse as he pulled on the reins. She slowed her trot to a halt by his house, allowing him to slip off from the saddle. As he made his way inside of the home, his thoughts solely on the new girl next door, Claire was waiting for him.

“So, did you fix her sink?” She asked, startling him from his thoughts.

Jesus, he thought. He was really losing some of his skills if he let Claire startle him over a woman. He clicked his teeth and nodded, trying not to seem interested. The last thing he needed was Claire meddling in his love life. He’d been lucky thus far by keeping her home so often that she never met anyone she could set him up with. But that never stopped her from constantly suggesting it.

“Yeah, mostly. I stopped the leak, but a knob is broken and I need to replace it. Some water got under her flooring.” He explained as he moved towards his bedroom to find dry clothing. “I’ll have to replace that tomorrow.”

Claire followed right behind him, the idea of personal space diminishing over the years they had lived together. She wouldn’t enter his room if he was changing, but she’d be right outside of the door, continuing the conversation she started.

“So, you’ll be seeing her again tomorrow?” Claire wondered aloud. There was something in her tone of voice that set off alarms in Court’s head. But he tried to ignore it. If he called her out on it too soon….

“Yeah, and she’s making us dinner tonight.” He added on with a huff as he stripped himself of his shirt and pants. Then began rummaging around for new ones in his closet.

“That’s great! I knew you’d like her.” She called smugly from the other side of the door.

Court’s brows furrowed as he tossed his new shirt over his torso and closed the distance between him and the door. He opened it wide enough to peek his head out and level his gaze with Claire.

“Who said anything about liking her? She’s doing it as a thank you.”

Claire stared blankly up at him. “But she’s pretty, isn’t she?” She questioned, as if that were the only important matter.

Court didn’t respond. He simply shook his head at her antics and shut the door in her face. He wasn’t giving her the satisfaction of the truth.

“Deny it all you want, but you just wait! You’ll be telling me I’m right before long.” She called out teasingly as Court retreated further into his room to put on pants.

God help him with that girl. She wasn’t going to rest until she was right. For once though, he might not have much of a problem with that.

#the gray man #court gentry #ryan gosling #sierra six #cowboy! court gentry #court gentry x reader #f!reader #court gentry x female reader #ryan gosling fic #court gentry fic #sierra six fic #the gray man au

200 notes · View notes