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lazyjellyfish300 · 4 months

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Love Across Dimensions spicy part 2

Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader s/o

Gif credits to @miguelo-hara

Part 1 , Long Distance NSFW blurb

Synopsis: You're from a different dimension than him. You didn't ask to fall in love with the protector of the multiverse, and it sure as hell isn't easy being in a long distance relationship with him. This whole thing is you two being needy ASF for each other. 😏🔥 Outline/headcanon ish format. Word count: 2.3k

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(PHONE SEX, MASTURBATING, CONSENSUAL VOYEURISM, FINGERING, P IN V, SPANKING, HICKEYS, DADDY KINK, USE OF SEX TOYS(VIBRATOR)LITTLE DEGRADATION,ORAL F RECEIVING, SLIGHT YANDERE IN ONE STATEMENT TOWARDS THE END, RELATIONSHIP DIFFICULTY.

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(red is you, black is him)

Are you finally gonna let me talk?

I don't know. Are you finally going to keep the promises you make to me?

Stop it. You know when I get an alert that means I need to go, babe. I didn't break it because I wanted to.

I'm just so sick of this, Miguel. You always feel like you have to save everything and everyone. You don't need to be the hero all the time. You have Jess, Peter, Ben..lots of people who are perfectly capable of handling things for you while you're gone.

I have a job to do, it's as simple as that.

And you also have someone right here who loves you and instead of us finally seeing each other after 3 months apart for my birthday, which, by the way was supposed to be an entire weekend but I compromised and canceled the Airbnb & settled for just seeing you for a couple hours and dinner at home and instead, I'm once again up all goddamn night waiting for you and worried about whether my boyfriend is going to actually be alive the next fucking day.

Let me make it up to you.

That's what you said last time.

I mean it this time.

Anyway it's 4 am and I need to be up in literally an hour. Goodnight.

Baby...wait.

*Click*

You hang up and throw your phone on the edge of your bed and sink back under the covers, shuddering as you let your tears of frustration soak your pillowcase.

You doze off for several moments and jolt awake when you hear that familiar zapping sound of an orange portal.

Miguel walks through, eyes a fiery Vermillion fuming under a furrowed brow. "Don't hang up on me again."

You're secretly floating on the inside but you sit up, crossing your arms, holding your ground. He's not going to get off so easily this time.

"What are you doing here?"

"Not happy to see me?" His brow raises.

"No." You scoff, but the corners of your mouth start to give you away.

"Don't be like that..." Miguel croons, honey lacing his tone. He knew he could crack you easier than a chestnut.

"I'm not in the..... mood." Your voice gets quiet at the last word and your chest heaves when his suit deactivates, leaving him bare in front of you.

"Don't look away from me." He says quietly, taking your face in his hands, slipping under the covers with you, gasping at the feeling of his warm thigh touching your hip.

"I have work this morning..." You start to protest.

"Mmm? Well you can't work a full shift on only an hour of sleep." Miguel says, peppering your cheeks with kisses.

His minty breath and slight musk coming off his skin is completely throwing you off guard.

"I...mph...I started my period, today, actually...." Your face relaxes and you finally let out a soft moan of surrender as Miguel reclines you back, focusing on the outline of his broad shoulders rippling as he lays himself carefully on top of you.

He pauses for a moment, then the corner of his mouth twitches. "Do you have a clean towel?"

Needless to say, Miguel got his red wings that night.

- Sometimes he keeps a pair of your panties, putting it in his luggage before he leaves. He used to just rip them off you with his talons. But, one time after you two had sex, you used the bathroom and walked back in on him pressing the lace thong to his nose.

You smirked, "Why not just take it with you? And, you won't have to replace another pair."

He loved the idea and started doing it from then on. Saving his wallet and your sanity.

-The "I've missed you" sex is something else. When he can only visit for a few hours it's desperate, rough fucking. The kind of sex where as he's tearing your clothes off, he's telling you,

"Don't have very long baby, sorry if I'm a little rough....." He nips your bottom lip with his teeth tweaking the buds of your breasts in his fingers.

"¿Te parece bien?" (Is that okay with you?)

Fuck yes it is.

The kind where it feels like this fuck session is going to be his last, the way he's moaning, taking the Lord's name in vain over and over while simultaneously praising Him for the soft gift of your body underneath him.

The kind where you're bent over the arm of your couch, taking his cock all at once, over, and over, a battering ram against your cervix. Your eyes are watering, begging for a time out, so he'll pause and relieve your pussy from behind with his tongue, the globes of your ass nearly suffocating his face as he buries himself in between them, starting with your clit and pussy at the bottom then moving on up to eating your ass, slipping a finger into the tight ring of muscle making you groan.

Then, his pretty, glistening face will come back up, his chest pressing into your back with a hand around your throat for support, letting you have a taste of yourself off his lips. They're puffy, wet and sloppy as he glides his cock back into you, slipping into you much easier now.

"Got you nice and wet this time, hmm cariño?" he lays a sharp smack on your ass in praise, the smacking sounds of skin and your high pitched moans piercing the room once more.

- It's soft, sensual, passionate fucks when his visits are longer. The kind of sex with rounds. Start at 10 pm, end at 5 am kind. The, "let's see how many surfaces in this hotel room we can christen with me fucking you on top of it" kind.

The kind of sex that has you zoned out your entire college lecture because the flashbacks just pop up, making you clench your thighs. The kind where he's balls deep in your soaked pussy, and it's still not close enough. The kind where you two swear the sweat from your bodies is making you melt into the other's skin. The kind where he says "I love you" with every thrust of his cock.

When he's fucking you like this he's worshipping your body, particularly focusing on your breasts and tummy at first because when he reaches your pussy, he'll be there for hours. He starts by taking your tits and pushing them up gently, holding their weight, admiring how pretty they look in his hands.

Some time later he'll sit you up in Lotus. The angle his cock is going into you in this position is so good, you're sighing and fighting to keep your eyes open but he'll take your chin in his fingers, kiss you, and lean back a little, making sure you get a good view of his wet cock sliding in and out. Watching him fuck you is a requirement.

"No, baby, abre los ojos....recuerdas? (Open your eyes, you remember?)

You nod dumbly.

"Good fucking girl..." while he watches you with a smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

-But there's nothing like a good finger fuck from him.

"You're so beautiful..." he whispers while looking down at you, his pretty lips wrapping around your nipple again, his large pad of his tongue doing laps around your areola as he eases two fingers into your pussy with a tight squeeze. You arch your back and press the back of your head into your mattress, eyes shut tight. He begins to move his fingers in an agonizing rhythm while looking at you with his head cocked to the side.

"Does that feel good, baby?" He whispers.

"Nghhh....." you whine a little bit, struggling to adjust to the girth of his thick fingers.

Miguel eases his fingers a bit, curling them a little slower, pressing upwards softly, then brushing them gently down in a circular pattern against the walls of your pussy, coaxing the soul out of your body in a relaxed, steady pump.

"That better...?" He asks gently.

You nod. "Yes, baby...."

Then he hits the sweet spot.

"Oh.......baby.....right there..."

"Right here, sweetheart?"

Fuck, he hits it perfectly.

"Yes baby......oh baby, please, please don't stop..."

"Oh...." Miguel whispers, eyes melting as he keeps his fingers in your favorite spot.

"I won't..." he kissed your forehead.

"Am I making you feel good, sweet girl?"

"Yes, Daddy you are..."

"Fffuck...what was that, baby?" Miguel chuckles and smirks as he keeps finger fucking you.

"Yes, Daddy...." Your eyes roll back, and your breathing speeds up. He's fucking you too good at this point.

Miguel's cock is painfully hard now.

"Hmmm....one more time for me, mami."

"Yes, Daddy..."

Miguel bites his lip, leaning even closer to you, adding his thumb to your clit and swirling it, making you whine even more.

"Just for that, daddy's gonna make you cum."

-Hickeys only where he can see. You love looking at them when you're alone while he's gone.

"One more, baby, just one more...." He teases playfully, locking his lips around your sore ass cheek, several red purplish marks already left behind. You whine a little and bury your head in the pillow, trying to take your mind off the aching suction.

"Babyyyy...," you whine.

"Mmm, mmm, be patient, baby, almost done." He kneads the flesh of your ass with his hands.

"M' sore...." you exhale, but starting to enjoy the way he's massaging your ass.

He ignores you, focused on branding your ass with his spit.

"M'hungryyy...." you whine, adding a dash of sweetness that you know he always gives in to.

"I'll buy you lunch baby, just a few more minutes..." He mumbles, still occupied with your ass.

You pout but let him have his way this time.

-You two have a consensual agreement to voyeurism whenever you shower, or masturbate, he'll sometimes watch you via his surveillance screens at work. It's almost always a bad time for him though, being the workaholic he is. But once in a while he'll cave.

Miguel grumbles and activates his mask, loading the coordinates in his watch when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees you undressing in your bathroom in the small, minimized window he keeps open for you in the bottom corner of the screen on his watch.

"Really, right now?" He whispers, exasperated.

But then the water turns on and he sees you move the detachable shower head up and down the front of your body, starting with the top of your lead, then watering your tits. The droplets kiss your body and soak it, leaving it shiny and wet. Miguel's getting hard now.

You place a hand on the steamy glass door and open your legs, letting the stream hit you in that spot you love so much.

5 minutes is all I need.

"Ben. Change of plans, need you on Earth-67. Goblin's at it again. I'll be right behind you."

"Wait, what..."

Miguel doesn't answer as he's already briskly walking away for a quiet place to enjoy the show.

-Phone sex always starts off a little awkward but it's always shamelessly filthy as you two lay in your separate locations, letting each other hear the other one fuck themselves. (red is you, black is him)

"How long have we been talking by now, anyway?"

"No clue."

.......

So, did I tell you Jazmin's engaged? I'm supposed to be a bridesmaid. I need to get my dress next month and I'm kind of nervous.

.......

Hello?

....

Baaabe?

Hm?

You distracted or what?

I am technically working, you know.

Hah. Of course you are.

I thought you were only calling me for one reason.

Which was?

Don't play dumb, cariño.

No, really, what?

Very funny.

What?

Just shut up and start moaning or something, idk.

Oh my God!

What, phone sex is too much for you now?

No, but now you just ruined the mood.

Not my problem.

That's too bad, I had a whole outfit planned and everything.

Care to share what this 'outfit' looks like?

No way. I'm still mad at you.

You're not mad when I'm eating you out like the last supper.

Stop!

C'mon now baby...

Uh uh.

*Exhales* Cariño...

Fuck. You...

Baby...

*Grumbles*

Mi amor, mi vida, mi alma....

*Speechless*

My goddess...

*Getting weak*

My sexy little wife...

*Deep breath*

Mrs. O'Hara...

*quietly* Mrs. O'Hara....

Mmmmmm...does that excite you, hermosa?

yes baby....what are you thinking about right now?

I'm stroking my cock, wishing I was fucking that pretty pussy....

Miguellll.....

Shhhhh...baby.....not so loud...

Baby pleaseee...

Keep making those sounds for me baby. Tell me that I'm all yours.

You're mine...

Keep going....

You're all mine baby. I don't want anyone else but you....

Ffuck, that's right baby. Are you touching yourself?

Yes baby, I am...

Good girl....God you're so fucking sexy.

Oh....

Do you have your vibrator on?

Yes baby I do...

Good...put it on that clit for me.

Oh....oh my fucking God....

Yeah....like the way I'm spoiling your pussy, hmm?

Yes Daddy, I love it..... I love it so much.....

Call me that again...

Daddy....

That's right baby...such a filthy girl.

Yeah....

So fuckin naughty..

Yes Daddy I am...

Fffuck.....you're all mine right baby?

Yes Daddy...

You belong to me?

Yes Daddy I'm all yours....

Fffuck that's right baby...you're all fucking mine. Gonna fucking kill anybody that takes you away from me..

I love you so fucking much....

I fucking love you baby...God you drive me so fuckin insane...

Miguel.....Baby, I wanna cum....

Cum for me princesa...wanna hear you whine while I make you cum all over my cock....

Oh God....

Tell me you're close baby?

I'm close, baby....

God I wanna fucking ruin you...

Ruin me baby...

I'm gonna fuckin ruin you....pound you....fuck you so fucking hard....

Mmmmm yeah?

Gonna fucking shove this cock down your pretty throat....let you swallow my cum...

Oh baby I want you so fucking bad...

How much baby?

So fucking much baby, you're all I think about...I cum just thinking about you....

Cum for me right now.

Ohhhhhhh....

*Panting*

Baby....

Was that good for you baby?

Yes baby....it was fucking amazing...

Good... because we're doing it again.

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😇

#miguel o'hara #spotify #miguel atsv #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara smut #across the spiderverse

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jessamine-rose · 10 months

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꒰ The Spider and the Fly ꒱

This is for my hormones every artist/ writer who dragged me into the Miguel O’Hara fandom. Your content is absolutely amazing, and I hope this piece can measure up to the brainrot you’ve given me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

Tw:: YANDERE, kidnapping, manipulation, blood, violence, self-deprecation, mention of suicide, bondage, noncon, nsfw, MDNI

Note:: Female reader, double POV, ATSV spoilers, Best Wingman Award goes to LYLA

♡ 7.6k words under the cut ♡

i. spiral orb web

You’ve always been attracted to pretty things, and that includes spiderwebs.

In your eyes, the spider’s craft is the closest thing to art in your everyday life. It is a natural phenomenon marked by intricacy and utility, yet one so easily overlooked due to its associations with pest behavior.

Fortunately, public reception has shifted since the emergence of Spider-Man. It is thanks to your “Friendly Neighborhood Hero” that the spiderweb has been rebranded as a symbol of safety. Be it a weapon or a life-sized shelter, there is a certain beauty to those human creations.

Though the same cannot be said for Miguel O’Hara’s.

Spider-Man 2099’s webs belong to their own category. His are scarlet, bright as lasers, conspicuous and dangerous in equal amounts. When Miguel traps a villain in his webs, one is reminded that a spiderweb is the tool of a predator.

Miguel’s webs are not the only thing which set him apart from the other Spider-Men. He has more inhuman powers—claws, fangs, paralytic venom. His jaded personality and intimidating stature are also far removed from the public image which inspires hope in civilians.

Perhaps that is why you find him all the more alluring. Or it could be simply because he is the one who saved your life.

He’s done more than rescue you. After catching you midfall, Miguel regards you with shock and…pity, you think. It is the only logical explanation as to why he is being so gentle with you when your dimension’s stability is a greater concern.

It also explains why he allows you to follow him into the departing portal. No, follow is a self-preserving term. More like burst into tears, ran after him, then told him your pathetic life story and how anywhere is better than here.

Much to the surprise of his coworkers, he relents.

꒰♡꒱

At first, Miguel thinks you are an Anomaly.

It is one thing to find you in another dimension. It has happened before, and he always avoided your Variants for their sake. But you are inescapable.

Among every version of you, the happiest one was his Variant’s wife. Then there’s you, the one whose life would’ve ended if not for his interference.

He tries to justify his decision. Your departure doesn’t affect the Canon, so no harm will come to your universe. And judging by your personal data, you would be much safer in a different dimension.

His dimension, to be specific. Where he can keep a close eye on you.

He is also logical enough to recognize you as your own person. You aren’t his wife, and his observations support that theory. Your hairstyle is different. You code-switch more often. You sleep and wake up at earlier hours. You’re not as confident in your abilities.

You are alike and unlike her in so many ways, yet he still sees a spark of his sun in you.

ii. funnel web

Since then, you’ve resided in Nueva York.

In return for permanent residency, you are hired as a secretary for the Spider Society. It’s civilian work, nothing dangerous, but more purposeful than what you’d ever achieved in your old job.

Strangely enough, you encounter Miguel quite often.

At first, it feels totally warranted. He is the only person you know in Earth-928, so he guides you through every step of your adjustment. He gives you a Dimensional Travel Watch, shows you around the facility, and instructs you on how not to mess up the multiverse.

After your first week, he invites you to move in with him. Miguel claims that his home already has an extra bedroom, though LYLA’s remarks suggest otherwise. Regardless, you accept since it means a familiar roommate and better living quarters.

How thoughtful of him.

꒰♡꒱

“It’s easier to look after her if we’re under the same roof,” he rationalizes.

“Sure,” says LYLA. She flickers above his shoulder and watches the holographic screens with him. “And it’s not because she reminds you of a certain someone?”

Ignoring her, Miguel switches to a different camera angle. Peter B. Parker walks past your desk and does a double take, and he is promptly summoned for a meeting.

No doubt, there will be questions about you.

“What about the redesigns?” LYLA pulls up a screen showing two bedroom layouts, one collapsed and the other abandoned. “Should we pick one? Merge them? Think of a new design? Or we can ask for her input, seeing how she clearly has better taste than you.”

One of the monitors catches their attention, announcing an Anomaly in Earth-131222.

“We can talk about this later.” With that, Miguel opens a new screen and analyzes the data. On second thought, he adds, “She prefers thin bed sheets.”

Later that day, he escorts you home. Your mood has greatly improved since your change in environment, though you’re still quiet around him. LYLA compliments your coat, a purple remnant of her closet which Miguel lent to you, but he ignores her knowing glances.

You wear it differently, he notices. It’s the same article of clothing, but fully buttoned with a silver brooch on one lapel. The effect is significantly less casual.

“So, this is it.” Your expression turns hesitant as Miguel unlocks the front door. “Are you really sure that I can stay here?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure,” he points out.

And it means less time monitoring the CCTVs.

“And you haven’t seen your room yet!” adds LYLA. “We know you’ll love it.”

“I guess it would be impolite to back out now.” You follow him inside and remove your coat. “I’ll try not to be a nuisance.”

He pauses.

That green dress…he could swear that he’s seen it on you before. Many shades lighter, paired with a bright smile, to match the T-shirt of the little girl by your—

“Miguel?” You frown at him, then your gaze flits to your dress. “Is there something wrong with my outfit? I didn’t commit a serious fashion crime in your dimension, did I?”

“It’s nothing,” he says quickly. But upon noticing your lingering anxiety, he admits, “You look good in it. That’s all.”

You nearly drop your coat. “W-What? Are you serious?”

Miguel could swear that you look more shocked than during your first meeting. If he were to come close enough to touch your face, it would surely feel warmer than average.

That’s enough.

“I meant what I said,” he replies, walking ahead. “Do you want to look around or are you just going to stand there?”

That snaps you out of your fluster. You follow him into the living room, a small smile making its way to your face. “The living room is pretty. Was it you or LYLA who designed it?”

The change of topic is a godsend. As Miguel shows you around, you recover from his comment and focus on your surroundings. LYLA is the next to admire your dress, winking at Miguel as she asks about the color, and he takes note of your reaction.

More vulnerable to flattery, regardless of speaker. Extremely happy afterwards.

His wife wasn’t like that. Usually, she’d be the one teasing Miguel with praises, pick-up lines, and inside jokes which he pretended to understand.

Still, it’s nostalgic to sit next to you on the sofa. He could get used to this again.

iii. lace web

In the following months, you fully adjust to your new life.

Your job in the Spider Society is manageable, fun even. Aside from the Spider-Man of your dimension, your close coworkers are kind enough to welcome you into their group. They look out for you, include you in their conversations, and appreciate your hard work.

They even indulge your aesthetic interests! One word from you, and they are already comparing webs. Among the various designs and techniques, however, none have fascinated you as much as Miguel’s.

…You do wish he’d let you roam Nueva York more often.

In case of Canon events, you need to get his permission first. Then you have to wait for him or an assigned Spider-Man to accompany you, and the latter is always a stranger whom you find difficult to bond with. Conversations with LYLA can only do so much.

You’ve recommended your coworkers before, but Miguel doubts their reliability. And every time you invite them to go with you, a new mission cancels your plans. If not for the official records, you’d suspect them of making excuses.

It’s a bit frustrating, honestly, but you know better than to complain.

You should already be satisfied with Miguel. He is an agreeable roommate, he trusts your capabilities, and he acknowledges your efforts. And no matter how closed-off or overworked he is, he's still deemed you worthy of his company.

…He is also very nice to look at. Muscular physique, handsome face, a serious gaze occasionally tinted in red. It’s a shame that he rarely smiles.

In another dimension, a better version of you would have definitely pursued him.

꒰♡꒱

“...and get this, he can shoot webs with stabilimenta. The designs are so detailed!”

“Oh, wow.” Miguel barely looks up from the monitors, grimacing at yet another Anomaly. He quickly sends an alert to the dimension’s Spider-Man. “What else?”

Behind him, you suddenly grow quiet.

“Now that I think about it, you must already know that since you recruited him. Sorry if that wasn’t anything worth listening to…are you sure I’m not bothering you?”

“You’re not.” It comes out faster than intended.

He turns around. Once again, you look surprised by his words, but you don’t ask for confirmation this time. You just nod and return to your digital reports.

Why did you visit his laboratory again? You said it was a false alarm from LYLA, who’d likely sent it on purpose. Lately, she’s been on his case about how rude it is to “avoid” you through extra work. He thinks he could easily do without distractions or triggered memories, however.

Miguel opens a private file and thinks of what you’d just told him. Apart from concerned looks from Jess and Peter B, most of the Spider-Men haven’t given you any trouble. Your coworkers, however, are a different matter.

23) ______ laughed because of some stupid pickup line from Web-Slinger. Smiled when he complimented her outfit (purple blouse, black high-waist skirt, favorite heels, pearl hairpin).

24) ______ talked about the other agents’ webs again.* She admires stabilimenta.

“You should be careful with your friends,” he tells you. He types a few more observations and closes the screen. “The last thing I need is for you to get involved in their mess. Don’t think that I can’t see them slacking on the job.”

To your credit, you don’t apologize. “Noted.”

“Miguel!” LYLA appears and moves the screens around him. “We have an Anomaly in Earth-332. Spider-Woman called for backup.”

Great, another one. It must be a persistent villain if Jess needs his help.

“I’m on it.” He types the coordinates on his watch and activates the portal.

“How dangerous is it?”

He stops, just a few meters short of leaving.

You leave your desk, an anxious look on your face. “I know you told me not to worry before, but I really have no idea of what your battles are like. So…will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you. A hug comes to mind—it always calmed her anxieties—but he instead gives you a shoulder pat. “Don’t wait for me. If it takes a while, LYLA will call someone to escort you home.”

“Okay.” You’re still standing in front of him, but he can feel the tension leaving your body. “It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight, right? I’ll prepare a nice victory feast so look forward to that.”

A few more seconds wouldn’t hurt. “You don’t have to.”

You pout at him. “But I want to. Besides, it’s not fair that you are so good at making my favorite meals. I still haven’t perfected yours.”

Secretly, Miguel thinks your cooking tastes better than his wife’s. But whatever keeps you distracted while he is saving the multiverse.

It’s also…nice to talk about work with you. With her, he had to act normal and make up excuses for his sudden disappearances. It’s refreshing to see your concern and know that you are praying for his safety. To imagine your relieved smile when he comes home.

“Miguel!” LYLA reappears between the two of you. “I hate to ruin the moment, but Spider-Woman could really use some help right now. I know you’re counting the seconds!”

No more time to waste.

“I’ll see you later.” He lets go of you and walks into the portal.

“Take care!” you call after him.

iv. triangle web

“Welcome home, love!”

As the door opened, Miguel resisted the urge to flinch. The lights were always too bright.

His Variant’s wife wasted no time hugging him. “What took you so long?”

“Something at work came up,” he explained, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Again?” You closed the door behind him, a frown replacing your smile. “That’s the third time this month. Is there a problem in your office?”

“It’s…classified information. But nothing to worry about, mi sol.”

The house felt lively, even with Gabriella temporarily away. Warm lights. Family photos. Personal belongings scattered about. Your cheerful presence leading him.

The TV in the living room was on, paused at the beginning of a new film. Movie nights were an old family routine, he’d learned. The first time Miguel arrived in your husband’s place, you and Gabriella had agreed on an animated classic.

“Okay then. I’m just glad your office isn’t in the same area as that crime from earlier. Was there any debris blocking the road?”

“Not much.” And definitely none on the route to your workplace.

Upstairs, Miguel took a shower and contacted LYLA. The Anomaly had been returned to its original dimension. If he were lucky, none would appear tomorrow.

You were on the sofa when he came back. Wordlessly, he sat next to you and you rested your head on his shoulder. The film began playing.

“I called Gabriella,” you murmured. “She and her friends are already planning their next sleepover. I’ll pick her up tomorrow morning.”

“That’s good to hear. Have you gift-wrapped her present?”

A pearl ring glinted above your intertwined hands. “It’s in my closet.”

Note to self: Ask LYLA to record the party. It will be a nice memory to revisit.

He smiled at you. “I can’t wait to see her reaction.”

The movie had a happy ending. It was, in your words, a cinematic masterpiece.

“That’s how it ends?”

Your outburst prompts Miguel to face the opposite end of the sofa. In the dim light, he can easily make out the unimpressed look on your face.

“The ending looks decent to me,” he muses. “If you ignore the logistics of their reunion, the film is entertaining enough to rewatch.”

“I think it could be more realistic. And you’re saying that across the multiverse, this is the most common version of the movie?”

“In five dimensions, to be exact. Others have the same ending but different actors.”

You pause. “I’ll admit that Earth-928’s version has superior costume design. But I still prefer my dimension’s neutral ending. Maybe it’s because our societal values are different.”

The closing credits continue, but neither of you leave the sofa. You’re still criticizing the film under your breath, unaware that Miguel can understand every word. He does agree that the happy ending causes a few plot holes.

At least with you, he can adjust the brightness levels.

“We can watch your version next time,” he offers, reaching for the remote with his webs.

“Really? You don’t mind?”

He turns off the TV. “We can do it on my next day off.”

Knowing LYLA, this won’t be the last time she plans a movie night without telling him.

“Well, what else could I do?” she asked after he privately demanded an explanation. “You’ve been working yourself too hard, Miguel. You could really use a break, and so does ______.”

You take the remote from him and untangle the web fluid. “Do you mind if I keep this?”

Miguel gives you an odd look. “For what reason?”

You twist the web in your hands, forming string figures.

“As a decoration, maybe. Oh, and for the record, I don’t go around collecting webs from your coworkers. I just find yours particularly interesting.”

Weirdo. “My webs are functional like the others’. That’s all there is to it.”

You look him in the eye this time. “Hey, you should give yourself more credit. It’s my belief that every spiderweb is a work of art. And before you call me overly romantic, there have always been artists who thought they were worth noticing."

The web loops around your ring finger, in the place where her wedding ring used to be.

He averts his gaze. “I don’t see it that way. But whatever works for you.”

Another moment of silence.

“There is another reason,” you add softly.

He side-eyes you. “Is it about that day? You don’t need to keep thanking me for saving your life. As I said, I was doing my job and anyone would’ve done the same.”

“I wasn’t talking about you catching me.”

Oh, you meant that.

The web tangles in your hands.

“Listen.” You take a deep breath, eyes on your lap. “I know you’ve been avoiding this subject. Maybe it's so I don’t feel indebted to you or pressured into reliving bad memories. But…I just want you to know that I’m glad you foiled my plans.”

…It would be best to let you finish first.

Your voice shakes. “I mean, you’re smart, aren’t you? Even without my meltdown, you would’ve figured out that my fall had nothing to do with the Anomaly in my dimension.”

He did. And that was precisely why Miguel mistook you for one at first. It wasn’t just your identity but the fact that you were found in danger after the Anomaly had been captured.

Ten minutes post-battle. The undamaged state of the nearby buildings. The passive acceptance in your demeanor.

He can vividly recall the rest of that day. Those hours spent studying your personal data, identifying every action and condition which diverged from his wife's path.

A loud sigh. “I just—I couldn’t take it anymore, okay? I thought it would be easier to put an end to my mistakes, then you had to show up. And thanks to you, life has been great! I like this world, I’m not alone, I still have my personal issues to work through but I’m trying to do better. But yeah…I’m just sorry for forcing you to get involved.”

“It’s not your fault,” he insists. He scoots closer to you and puts his hand on top of yours. “I made the choice to bring you here. And I couldn’t exactly leave you, knowing your situation.”

That is a lie. Rather, half of his thoughts were about his wife and how he’d been able to sustain her happiness. How that farce proved he could do the same for you.

“Either way, I’m grateful.” You look up, your lips curving into a shy smile. “I’m really happy now, Miguel. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’ll never regret my decision to follow a cryptic stranger into a portal. Even if it meant learning that the multiverse is in constant danger. Or that my favorite film has an alternate ending which makes no sense to me whatsoever.”

Has his wife ever looked at him like that? There is a soft brilliance to your gaze, wholly reserved for him. It triggers a warm feeling in his chest.

The moment is quickly ended when you cover your face with a cushion.

“Anyway! If you don’t mind, I’d really love to move on and talk about something else. How was your mission earlier? Is Earth-199999 still giving you a hard time?”

You’re still seated next to him, legs touching. Your tone leaves no room for objection.

He lets go of your hand. “You would not believe what kind of shocking messes we’ve had to deal with. We are never recruiting Dr. Strange or his little nerd.”

“You can tell me all about it.” You untangle his web from your hands; it loops around your pinky finger this time. “I’m here for you, okay? For as long as you’ll have me.”

v. mesh web

There have been more Anomalies lately.

You walk past the detained villains, silently counting them. Their increase in numbers has kept the Spider Society on high alert for the past weeks. While it means more documents for you, the effect on Miguel’s stress levels is concerning.

Come to think of it, has he returned from his mission yet? If not, you hope the cafeteria’s takeout boxes have a self-heating function. As you get closer to Miguel's laboratory, you hear the door open. The sound is followed by two sets of footsteps.

“Do you think it’s healthy for him?”

“I’m more worried about ______.”

You stop walking.

Is that Peter B and Jess? Why are they talking about you?

Jess’s tone is reproachful. “The poor girl has been through so much already. It’s not safe for her to be here, at least in HQ. He knows that she is a different case from Gwen.”

“You know how Miguel is. I’ve already asked about her, and he won’t tell me anything new. Not even my Super Adorable Mayday album could convince him.”

“I don’t like this, Peter.”

Their footsteps become louder. You go back to the entrance of the hallway, just within earshot but hopefully far enough to evade their Spider-Senses.

“Neither do I. But you should’ve seen him when he lost their daughter, Jess. Now think of his wife: He never got to see ______ before she disintegrated. Then one day, out of nowhere, after staying away from countless Variants, he finds a version of her who needs him.”

…What the hell are they talking about?

The walls close in on you. You take a step back, followed by another.

Then, at the sound of a sharp “Is someone there?”, you drop the takeout box and run.

Their daughter. His wife. A version of her.

You already know that Miguel lost a family in another dimension. It was briefly mentioned when he warned you about Canon disruptions, but he refused to share the details. Is this why?

This whole time…you are a Variant of his wife?

You aren’t followed. Your coworkers cheerfully greet you, but you ignore them and return to your desk. It’s arranged the way you like it, complete with personal decorations. The drawer holds a stress ball in your favorite color, a gift from Miguel of all people.

You never did tell him that it is your go-to stress reliever. Was it the same for her?

You squeeze the ball and take deep breaths, but the action does little to calm you.

It all makes sense. Why else would Miguel take an interest in you?

Your gaze lands on your Dimensional Travel Watch before you remember that the idea is futile. Yours is only a modified version which prevents glitches but can’t be used for travel. And the Go-Home Machine would require Spider-Byte’s help.

…Why are you even wasting your time on an escape plan? How are you sure that you won’t mess up and make another mistake?

“______?” LYLA appears in front of your face. Her greeting sounds different.

He knows.

You force yourself to answer. “Y-Yes?”

“Miguel is back.” She flickers as usual, but it doesn’t change the nervous look on her face. “He wants to see you.”

꒰♡꒱

Peter B will be dead when he gets to him.

Several screens surround Miguel, each playing CCTV footage. He focuses on a live recording of you on your way to his laboratory.

At least you are complying with his orders.

The platform is fully lowered by the time you get there.

“Hey…welcome back,” you stammer. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” he replies brusquely. “Jess and Peter B spoke with me as soon as I came back. I was just confirming the status of Earth-67 when I checked the CCTVs. Care to explain?”

A heavy silence falls between the two of you. LYLA is nowhere to be seen.

Your panic is evident. Your gaze wanders, at everything but Miguel, until it stops at the dented takeout box on his desk. “Is that…is the food still warm? Or have you already eaten in Earth-67? I forgot to ask in advance.”

He glares at you. “Are you seriously worrying about my lunch right now?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to say?” you shoot back. The anger in your tone is unmistakable. “‘Hey, Miguel, when was I supposed to know that we were a family in the dimension you accidentally collapsed?’ Does that sound any better?!”

“Believe me, I was going to leave you alone at first.” He grips the edge of his desk, resisting the urge to raise his voice. “But how could I do it after the way you reacted?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You could’ve easily said no! This whole time, I wondered why you were so willing to help me. I thought you were being nice, that you believed giving me a better life was worth all these risky accommodations. Was…was I wrong?”

Your voice cracks at the last part, and you hastily wipe your eyes. It’s reminiscent of your first meeting, the distressed shock which Miguel had never seen in his wife. Only that time, you had sought out his comfort.

“Tell me, was it because of her?” you whisper. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill. “Is that all you’ve ever seen in me?”

“You have the wrong idea.” Miguel approaches you, but you instinctively back away. He raises his hands in a placating gesture. “If you would just listen to me—”

“How can I?!”

Your hand settles on your wrist, unconsciously fiddling with your Dimensional Travel Watch. The clasp loosens, and his reaction is immediate.

He grips your arm. “Don’t do that! You’ll get yourself—”

“Let go of me!”

You pull back, clawing at his wrist, but Miguel's grasp only tightens. His other hand taps the watch’s controls to activate the Lock feature.

“This is for your own good, ______." In the split second that he releases you, his webs shoot out and bind your limbs together.

“No!” You collapse onto the floor. The scarlet threads dig into your skin, emitting a harsh glow in the dark. “Please, just let me go!”

After everything he’s been through, he is not losing you again.

Ignoring the stab of guilt, he picks you up and salvages what is left of his composure.

“You see, this is why I didn’t tell you.” He sighs, already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

You’re still shaking in his grasp, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I…I’m not—”

His kiss easily silences you. It’s far from intimate but the sensations are familiar. Warm lips. The scent of your perfume. The addictive rush of euphoria. Physical and chemical reactions which couldn’t be adequately explained in words.

And the whimper that escapes your lips when Miguel pulls back to press a light kiss to your forehead.

“We can continue this conversation when we get home.”

vi. cobweb

Your days in the Spider Society are over.

Not permanently. Miguel says that you can resume work once you’ve calmed down, but you doubt it will happen under any pretense of freedom.

Since your confrontation, you’ve been confined in his home. As it turns out, Miguel had already prepared for this—locks, alarms, hidden cameras, a comprehensive speech which only elevates your horror.

“She wouldn’t want this,” you keep insisting. You writhe against your restraints, but the webs remain taut against your skin. “How would your ______ feel if she knew?!”

“She’s not here anymore.” Miguel looks away from your face, as though the reminder physically pains him. “What matters now is that I have you. The both of us can start over.”

“How can you say that?!” At this point, you’re on the verge of hysteria. “You…you don’t actually love me. You’re only doing this because I’m the closest you have to getting her back!”

The hand on your cheek makes you flinch. The gentle caress does little to soothe you, not with the underlying threat of his claws. His eyes flash red in the dim light, brimming with—what do you call it? Grief? Desperation? Obsession?

You can’t tell, not when those sentiments are for someone else.

“You only say that because you don’t know any better,” he says softly. His lips meet yours, trapping you in a deep kiss. “Now get some rest, mi sol. It’s been a long day, and we know how you get when you’re stressed.”

My sun. What a lie. Since when have you done anything to deserve such a title?

You can’t bother to fight back. You’re too tired to think, to resist the kiss, to move an inch as Miguel undos your restraints and tucks you into bed.

Instead, you close your eyes and retreat into slumber. But even in your last seconds of consciousness, his gaze is strongly felt.

As it turns out, Miguel really did consider all possibilities. Your Dimensional Travel Watch has an exclusive Lock feature, should you ever be tempted to escape him through death. It can only be removed during your scheduled baths, with LYLA acting as your timer.

You rarely talk to her, either. She clearly feels sorry for you, but not enough to help. She monitors your daily activity, keeps you company when Miguel is away, and tries to cheer you up. She has yet to accomplish the last task.

Against your better judgment, you ask her about your Variant. She is resistant at first, knowing the negative outcome, but you are persistent. In the end, LYLA decides that it’s better to show you a few videos than for you to ask Miguel directly.

…Your Variant is perfect. Pretty. Carefree. Successful. A calming presence. You can see why Miguel would fall for her, with how she effortlessly puts a smile on his face.

Among your Variants, isn’t there one who bears a closer resemblance to her? Or were they too important to leave without disrupting the Canon? Is that why he settled for you?

“You have a better sense of style,” LYLA offhandedly mentions. “It was Miguel who said that. And do you know that he calls you one of our best workers?”

It doesn’t make you feel any better. “I see. Thanks for letting me know.”

As LYLA predicted, the information only makes you feel worse. You can’t stop thinking about your other self. How did she turn out like that? How did she succeed in your failures? How has Miguel perceived his moments with you, as new memories or a replica of lost time?

You don’t want to ask him. You’ve had enough disappointments for one lifetime.

Neither do you make an escape plan. On the low chance that you succeed, you don’t have anywhere to go. The Spider Society, or most of them, is loyal to Miguel. And it’s not like you’d be better off in your dimension, back to your empty home and dead-end job and daily reminders of your insignificance.

At least here, you can feel valued. Even if you owe that to someone else.

꒰♡꒱

“I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so.”

Miguel doesn’t look up from the screens. “Now is not the time for this.”

LYLA is anything but smug. ”Are you sure? Because you said that when I asked if you’d ever tell her the truth, and look where that went. A civil explanation might’ve been nice.”

“How is she?”

“No better than with you.”

The CCTV switches to the kitchen. By now, you've established a new routine—lie awake in bed, rearrange your room, watch TV, cook your own meals. It's repetitive but easy to follow.

He zooms in on the ingredients. “Do you see anything suspicious?”

“No potential poisons,” LYLA responds, equally focused. “Oh, is she cooking dinner again? Last night’s meal looked really good.”

“It probably helps. Gives her something to preoccupy herself with.”

In the end, you’ve chosen the docile route. You’re still tense around Miguel, but your behavior can’t even be counted as malicious compliance. You just go through your new routine, trying to create some semblance of normalcy in confinement.

Though internally speaking, he has no access to your thoughts.

“She’s quite different from his wife, isn’t she?” asks LYLA. “I like this version of ______.”

Miguel zooms in on you this time. In your current state, you’ve revealed more contrasts to his Variant’s wife. It actually doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

When did his feelings for you begin? Was it when he saved you? When he saw a spark of his beloved in you? When that spark turned out to be your own brilliance?

All he knows is that you’re the one who consumes his thoughts nowadays. Your distinct preferences, your little quirks, your quiet words, your uncertain expressions, your attitude towards him and no other Miguel.

...There must be a way to persuade you. If Miguel was able to play along with his Variant’s family, to the point that his love for them became genuine, the same can be said for you. He just needs to prove that you can and will be happy together.

The only thing missing would be Gabriella.

vii. sheet web

You’ve been promoted to Miguel’s bedmate.

His room isn’t much. It is dark, minimalist, often empty due to the nature of his work. There are zero mementos of his lost family, not even a framed photo or something of her influence.

They’re probably hidden somewhere. How considerate.

On most nights, you act oblivious to your new sleeping arrangement. You just say good night to Miguel, lie down on your side of the bed, and try to fall asleep as quickly as possible.

…That turns out to be more difficult than expected. Try as you might to feign sleep, you can’t relax in Miguel’s grasp. He holds you tightly in his sleep, your back pressed against his chest. You wonder if it is a familiar position or a means of keeping you close.

Lately, he has switched tactics. Movie nights have become a regular pastime. You’ve received permission to work from home, sans contact with the Spider Society. The two of you have even gone outside for a few dates, though his grip on your hand discourages any escape attempts. Awkwardness aside, he’s been more physically affectionate.

It’s absolutely jarring, but you’re somewhat grateful for the added comforts. If your choices are different from his wife’s, Miguel doesn’t seem to mind.

This should be fine. It’s better than when he was acting like an overprotective control freak…even if those methods had left no speculation as to who the intended receiver was. With this approach, you can never be sure if Miguel sees you or his wife in front of him.

You try not to dwell on it more than you already have. You’re still here. Your living conditions have marginally improved. Miguel doesn’t expect you to be more like her.

You just need to keep it together, like you always have.

That is what you keep telling yourself, up until the night Miguel asks for your thoughts on starting a family.

“No. Please, stop!”

Red. In the dark, all you can see is red.

The lurid color wraps around you, binding your wrists to the headboard. The webs are taut, no-frills, effective in their sole purpose of keeping you trapped.

No, what’s worse is Miguel. His gaze is trained on you, scarlet orbs alight with crazed desire and your own terrified reflection.

“Stop struggling,” he sighs as he pins you down. Blood decorates his bare arms, from where your scratches failed to stop him. “You’re only going to get yourself hurt.”

You continue, anyway, only to scream as he leans down and sinks his fangs into your neck. It hurts, the flesh burns, everything feels heavy—

You can’t move.

It doesn’t take long for the venom to kick in. The numbness spreads throughout your body, leaving you dizzy and helpless. Your limbs won’t cooperate at all.

Yet despite the paralysis, the pain stays with you. It’s the only sensation you can feel—the sharp ache in your neck, the chafing around your wrists, the sting from where Miguel accidentally scratched your thigh while tearing off your clothes.

“Mi sol, you are still tense,” he mutters. His lips remain on your neck, administering light kisses to the fresh wound. A clawed hand presses down on the bed, puncturing the fabric, to support his weight. “You need to calm down.”

You can only bite your lip as he moves on to your chest, tainting the skin with love bites. His other hand retracts its claws and strokes your stomach, tracing—are those patterns supposed to be her stretch marks?

Of course he memorized them. She must be on his mind right now.

You squeeze your eyes shut, but the ministrations continue. His thumb strokes your hip, eliciting a stifled moan, and the self-inflicted darkness gives way to the sight of Miguel’s irritated expression.

“You’re not listening to me, ______.” His eyes flash, daring you to try again. The sight of his exposed fangs, speckled with your own blood, triggers another wave of dread.

Should you even be surprised that he knows your sensitive spots? He already made it clear that any form of escape is in vain.

It's pure torture. It would be easier if Miguel would just have his way with you, use your body to his heart’s content, leave you to your thoughts. But no, he is taking his time and making sure that you physically enjoy this. Ensuring that you will be ready for what comes next.

“S-Stop.” Your lips are still numb, but you manage to form words. “I said…I don’t want this! I’m not ready!”

“Shh.” He silences you with another kiss, his palm pressing down on your stomach. “You’re only saying this because it’s our first time. You have to trust me.”

It’s hard to believe him when you know that his composure is slipping. What is he trying to hide? His ragged breaths? The hardness pressed against your inner thigh? The urgency with which he lifts your legs up onto his shoulders?

“You’ll understand once our child is here,” he says. He breaks off the kiss, his voice hushed to a reverent whisper. “We will be so happy, happier than you can ever imagine.”

“You’re lying…I can’t—!”

You can’t stand to look at him. His gaze is so cruel, clouded with love, adoration, hope. Skies, he looks so hopeful. You don’t want to wait for the day he looks at you differently.

Was this how he looked at her? How did she return his gaze? It must’ve been passionate. It must’ve been romantic. It must’ve been so promising.

“I can’t give you Gabriella!”

The world stops as soon as those words leave your mouth.

“...What did you just say?” Miguel stares at you, eyes wide.

Of all Variants, why did it have to be you?

That is when you burst into tears.

How humiliating. It’s hard to breathe, it must be an ugly sight, and you can’t do anything to cover your face. But it’s enough to make Miguel stop and listen to you.

“I can’t give you Gabriella,” you repeat in choked sobs. “It requires an exact time, specific cells and DNA. And even if we succeed, I can’t raise her into the child you knew. I...I can’t restore your family. I can’t be her.”

In the end, you will only disappoint him.

“______…” He raises his hand to wipe your tears, but you interrupt him with a glare.

“Honestly, why did it have to be me?!” you shout. “Why couldn’t you have found a better duplicate of your wife? This wouldn’t be happening if you’d chosen the right ______!”

He doesn't respond.

For a few seconds, all you can hear is your own pitiful weeping. You vaguely register the feeling of your legs hitting the mattress, of the absence of Miguel’s touch, but you keep your eyes closed. It’s easier that way.

Suddenly, there is the sound of threads snapping. Then the sensation of strong hands coming under your back, lifting you upwards, pulling you into an embrace.

Your eyes fly open. “What—”

“Ya, calladita.”

Miguel…is he hugging you? He holds you tightly, repeating the words in a hushed tone. The message is followed by a string of curses which, judging by the way he turns away from you, must be solely directed at himself.

Paralyzed, you can only stare down at your lap. At his webs, still wrapped around your wrists but no longer connected to the bed. “What are you—”

“Could you let me talk for a second?" he snaps. He tilts your face upwards, allowing you to take in his glare. “You are my first choice. Not the version of you from Earth-94, Earth-835, or any other dimension in the multiverse. It doesn’t matter that you are different from her.”

This can’t be true. “Still, I—”

“As for Gabriella, you’re right." There is a flash of resignation in his gaze, so sorrowful that it clashes with his words. “I knew that from the start.”

“...Then why?”

Your head spins. His hands are still on you, caressing your cheek and keeping you in his grasp. The numbness gives way to warmth.

“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that any child from you will be ours,” he answers. His voice softens, as does his gaze. “Just as you are mine and I am yours.”

The words get stuck in your throat. “Are…are you sure?”

How can he say such a thing? Your sense of hearing must be damaged. It is the only logical explanation as to why—

The look in his eyes leaves no room for doubt. “I promise.”

...What else can you possibly say?

Your vision blurs. Miguel is still speaking, another quiet reassurance from the sound of it, but it’s all static in your head.

What the hell are you supposed to do with this information? It’s beyond your comprehension, too subjective and unproven for the likes of you. And yet you feel…good. Happy. So, so happy despite everything you have been through.

Skies, you are truly pathetic.

No, what’s more pathetic is the way you cry harder and melt into Miguel’s embrace. It’s the way you listen to his remaining praises and beg him to keep talking. To list everything about you that is good and faultless and desirable to him, everything he thought was worth noticing.

And when he kisses you, you willingly reciprocate.

The darkness is soothing.

The dim lights cast the bedroom in shadows. It’s a blessing to your dizziness, your eyes tired from crying. With this obstacle to your vision, you can pretend that the previous hours never happened.

Almost. The soreness, the deft hands tending to your injuries, and the immense euphoria are impossible to ignore.

It’s also painful, unbearably painful now that the venom’s effect has fully worn off. You can only sit up and wince as Miguel disinfects another wound.

He looks up in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I am.” You give him a weak smile as he bandages your thigh and mumbles a second apology. “I feel better already.”

His own injuries are equally evident, from your hesitant love bites to the scratch marks on his back. As guilty as you felt, you could only say so much before Miguel silenced you with a withering look.

…You will make it up to him tomorrow. If you are still capable of walking.

The thought leads you to cry into the pillow, muffling your curses. If Miguel can understand you, he doesn’t say anything. Rather, he closes the first aid kit and holds your hand.

“I’ll draw a bath,” he tells you. “Can you wait for a few minutes?”

Your thumb brushes against his pulse point. His heart rate is frustratingly calm, perhaps slightly above average if you are to flatter yourself. Maybe you can count the number of beats and ask LYLA tomorrow. She will be happy to confirm it.

You meet his gaze, intertwining your fingers with his. “Sure.”

You’d like to think that his last kiss is another promise.

With that, Miguel stands up and leaves the room. As for you, you lie down and go back to screaming into the pillow. Tired as you feel, you haven’t felt this thrilled in years.

Then the spiderwebs catch your attention. They’re still stuck to your wrists, albeit frayed. There are loose threads from where Miguel broke them.

Red. Illuminating the dark, holding you close, keeping you safe.

Carefully, you pick apart the threads and twist them around your hand.

No string figures this time. Your technique is clumsy, irregular, lacking beauty and order. Nonetheless, you continue until your left hand is covered in a glovelike pattern.

The final knot is above your ring finger. It’s a perfect fit.

It is the prettiest thing you have ever seen.

♡

Author's Note ๑ Side Story 1 ๑ Prologue ๑ Epilogue ๑ Side Story 2

“I’m just going to write a short post to purge my brainrot,” I say, shortly before Miguel O’Hara unlocks a core memory of me reading The Spider and the Fly and inspires me to write 7.6k words with literary references.

Thank you so much to @diodellet for beta-reading this and @yanmaresu for helping me with the Spanish phrases!! As for my readers, I hope you enjoyed my take on Yandere! Miguel and his darling. Do entertain me with your comments and brainrot ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @kocherry @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @h2o2-and-baking-soda @ansy-tea @yandere-wishes @weebsinstash @curesi @robindere @crystalcrynight @mrlidocaine @handsomeunderwear-art @blughxreader @chiikasevennn @fortheloveofleon

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tumble-witch · 5 months

Text

TW light suggestion of body horror. No descriptions though!

Creatomachia

Bunnix shows up in Marinette's bedroom when it's already dark outside.

Marinette knows what the older heroine is about to ask the second she hears the burrow open. When Bunnix greets her, Marinette is hyperventilating. Instead of exchanging pleasantries, she asks:

- Is it... him again?

Bunnix has a grim expression on her face, yet shakes her head. Marinette exhales. She has another question.

- Is it something I did?

- No. I'm sorry I'm asking this from you again. I'm sorry there will be no answers yet.

- It's okay. I am ready.

At first Ladybug thinks she is on another planet. Another dimension, even. There are cloud fractals in the sky. There is a street light growing out of another one, growing out of another one, growing out of another one... Trees are huge and have so many leaves they are almost a solid green mass. Some buildings are so tall they go way past the clouds in a curvy line. It reminds her of the Jack and the Beanstalk fairytale her mom used to read her before bed.

The roads branch out like blood vessels, getting smaller with each separation, ending in dead ends near the buildings or growing vertically on top of the walls.

The whole city almost looks like it could move at any second. It almost looks alive.

As Ladybug progresses through the streets (if she can even call them that), she finally realizes where the people are.

At least, what's left of them.

Infinite growth apparently works on humans, too. She never thought she'd be so thankful to see somebody not move.

The silence makes her ears ring. Everything is quiet, except for some mechanical sounds the structures make, not really meant to support their own weight in this new form.

Then, she hears laughter.

A girl with hair so long she's not sure where it ends is frantically pacing around the roof, her body movements jittery and odd. As the camera of the heroine's yo-yo focuses on the akuma, helping seek out where the cursed butterfly is hiding, Ladybug realizes the dress this girl is wearing is not grey.

It's is covered in trillions of colourful tiny dots of different shapes and sizes. They seem jittery too, as if trying to move, but some force is making them stay together. This feels like standing up after lying down for too long. Looking at the pattern for too long makes her head hurt

Ladybug continues hiding. She takes her time looking for clues. At this point she's not really sure if the girl is actually laughing or this is a weird hysterical cry. Sometimes the akuma starts muttering under her nose, too quiet to make out most of the words. Ladybug is pretty sure she heard the girl say "I can fix this" a few times though. She shifts to hear the words better.

The akuma turns around

This is the hardest she's ever fought. Chat Blanc feels like child's play now.

While the villain almost looks out of breath, long hair going everywhere, Ladybug is still barely able to keep up.

The air is too dense with oxygen.

The girl has a yo-yo as a weapon, in a cruel twist of irony. And she's damn good with it. Yet, she clearly hesitates in using the thing, saving it as a last resort to escape.

Ladybug tries to reason with the akumatized victim.

- Wait! Please, let me help you!

- You don't understand, - the girl looks around frantically, - I have to fix this! I need to fix this!

Villain's grey yo-yo starts to glow white and she throws it at a fire hydrant, making it grow another one on top.

The akuma was inside the earring. Ladybug was hit by the yo-yo. She doesn't have the time to think as she casts Miraculous cure, just before her brain registered the pain fully.

She'll remember the way it looked when she closes her eyes though.

The streets go back to normal. Her body is normal. Ladybug turns around and meets the eyes of

herself

Marinette sits on the ground, horrified. But before Ladybug can talk to her Bunnix appears and she has to go.

Bunnix doesn't say anything as they walk through the burrow, but she's pretty sure the older heroine is holding her shoulder softer than ever before.

They didn't change anything. They didn't fix anything after they came back, no scoldings, no erasing her name from anywhere, nothing. Marinette is growing more paranoid at every turn, expecting to get akumatized. Her conflict avoidance is at all times high. She's withdrawing from her friends.

Nobody is near when Hawkmoth himself shows up in the middle of the night and she has to transform. He senses her distress immediately.

This is just too easy.

The butterfly lands in her earring just as she started to call for a last effort Lucky Charm.

"Creatomachia, this is Hawkmoth. You are overwhelmed with every problem creating a million smaller ones. Things seem to stack on top of each other and just never end. I'll give you the power to fix everything. In return, you will give me your and Chat Noir's miraculous."

For a split second, everything is white.

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aprocessionofthoughts · 7 months

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To succeed is to fail

whumptober2023 day 9- mistaken identity fandom- Danny phantom x Batman TW- nothing summary- The Amity Parkers have the opportunity (they didn't want) to explore Gotham. It's just too bad that Danny looks a lot like adoption bait.

First of all, I’d like to state that I know this is whumptober. But the story disagreed. So now we have whumpcracktober.

ao3 masterlist

They were not supposed to be here. They didn't want to be here. They hadn’t even tried to be here. Yet luck had never been on the Amity Parker’s side before, and they should have realized this would be no different.

It was their senior year and things around Amity had calmed down. Or at least everyone was used to Amity’s special brand of crazy.

He had told his parents about Phantom and they had helped hunt down the GIW. Most of Amity was discovered to be liminal and most of the young people had developed some basic abilities.

And then Mrs. Abernagaby decided that their science final would be a group project. This wasn’t anything new. Every year Casper participated in the Helping Intelligent Minds Be Outstanding competition–better known as the HIMBO competition.

And usually the smartest seniors would be picked to work on a group project to submit. Casper High had never won. So, this year Mrs. Abrnagaby decided that all the seniors could work on it together. Because more heads were better than one!

Obviously she didn’t remember what being part of a group project felt like. And she obviously didn't account for the fact that no one would care.

They weren’t even told what the award was since it varied year to year and was meant to be a surprise.

All they were told was that they had to design a new air filtration system.

So, being seniors who had survived ghost attacks, invasions, their town being pulled into another dimension, dealing with the GIW, and making it through adjusting to Amity shifting to the stranger side as everyone's liminality began to show, they did not try.

Which was how they ended up with this masterpiece.

The challenge was to design a new air filtrator. Which if they had wanted to, would have been easy since air filters that would reduce the amount of ectoplasm in the air had been designed before the residents realized it was too late to do any good, and so they had never been made.

They didn’t even submit a design; it was a paper mache volcano covered in everyone’s failed tests. The accompanying research paper they were supposed to submit had Dash’s and Paulina’s self-insert fanfics with– you guessed it– phantom as the love interest. Danny had tried to make them remove it since it was awkward now that they knew who he was, but they had claimed they wrote it before they knew. Danny knew this was a lie because they were lying liars who lied.

The paper also included one of Sam’s activist papers, Wes’s conspiracies about Bruce Wayne being Batman’s sugar daddy (now that everyone knew Danny was Phantom Wes didn’t feel the need to include that research (he also believed that Batman was Bruce Wayne but didn’t want to antagonize the furry who could ruin his life)).

Tucker had included evidence of a Pentagon hack he had done a few years ago, Mikey had drawn some incredible fanart about Green Lantern (he said this would have the greatest effect on Gothamites and Wes agreed saying Batman didn’t like Green Lantern. How he knew this, no one asked.).

And lastly, they attached a file of them doing the Harlem Shake.

Mrs. Abernagaby hadn’t even looked at it before sending it off.

And then of course they had won. And what a grand prize it was! They won a trip to Gotham to explore the various big businesses, as well as a chance to apply at those locations for internships. Yeah… Sam had found out all the other schools had dropped out after finding out the prize. No one wanted to go to Gotham. But the school said it was a learning opportunity! To see what it was like outside Amity! To see what normal was supposed to be like!

So, they were forced to go, but at least they got Mr. Lancer as their supervisor and they wouldn’t even have to take a long bus ride because Amity was friends with Gotham. Apparently there weren’t very many Living Cities and the two liked to talk. They also thought it would be hilarious if the Amity Parkers went to Gotham. So, Amity had temporarily turned the road that left the city into a portal that led to Gotham’s border, and at the end of the week Gotham would return them.

And that was how he had ended up here. In the back of a smelly van with a smelly bag over his head surrounded by smelly men probably heading to a smelly, sketchy location. All because these men were stupid and thought he was some Wayne kid.

Sure, he could have gotten out. But this was honestly more interesting than touring another boring building and having to almost get mugged again.

..........

AN-I plan to continue this but it probably won’t be until after October because I want to focus on completing the challenges I'm participating in.

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober #no.9 #mistaken identity #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #batman #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #humor #no angst #I know this was supposed to be whumptober #but the story disagreed #what was I supposed to do #aren't we supposed to support our children's decision #I was being a supportive story writer

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 9 months

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Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 11]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Light Alcohol CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 7.4K

(11/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: This has to be the fastest I've uploaded an update AHAHA also quick heads up I updated the OC Guide

Disclaimer: This series is originally by @fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2015

“I’m home,” your keys hung loosely from your hands. “Hello?” Usually, you would’ve been greeted by at least Alfred. “Timmy? Cass?” Still, no response. “Well, what the fuck,” you shrugged and trudged upstairs. The manor was unnervingly quiet today, and you knew well enough that there was something amiss. Then, finally, you heard a conversation just ahead.

“I apologize if it’s a little cramped,” Alfred remarks. You stuck your head in. “Ah, Miss (Y/N), welcome home.”

“Hey, Alfred,” you looked at the child in front of you. “Huh… they get younger every year,” you crossed your arms.

“And who the hell are you?” He snarks. “A maid?”

“Oh, and he’s feisty,” you leaned against the door frame. “What’s your story then? Orphaned? Stole tires? Figured him out?” You went down the line and counted on your hands.

“Not necessarily,” your dad walks in from behind you and you jumped in your shoes.

“Hello to you too,” you rolled your eyes.

“(Y/N), this is Damian,” your father introduces him. “He’s your brother.” Your eyes widened. You looked at Damian again and, now that you really thought of it, you could see the resemblance to older pictures of your dad.

“Half brother, I’m guessing,” you added.

“Right. This will be his home from now on, help him get adjusted,” your father places the luggage in his hands down. “But, I’m not too worried about you.”

“Huh, have you told Dick yet?”

“He got here half an hour ago.”

“Oh, well, I guess I’ll clean up whatever mess happens,” you pushed off of the door now. “It’s nice to meet you, Damian, let’s get to know each other better later once you’re finished unpacking. I know a great arcade in the city you might like,” you adjusted your backpack and crossed the hall to your room. You leaned your backpack against your desk and went straight to work. The college application deadline was fast approaching and you had to be on top of it, then exam season was also following in its heels so you had to remain vigilant of that.

“So what exactly is your role, then?” Damian’s voice came behind you. You ignored the way your heart stopped from shock and turned around after taking a deep breath. You'd never get used to being snuck up on, even after having to deal with your brothers.

“Heiress. You?”

“You? Heir to what? The Batman title?” He was seated on your bed with his arms crossed.

“Oh no, no way, heiress to Wayne Industries of course,” you corrected him. “I have no intentions of doing whatever vigilante work dad or any of you usually do,” you crossed your arms and shook your head.

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“No, sir, I am not,” you nudged your head toward the desk behind you. “Plus I have more important things to worry about.”

“So you have no formal training at all?” Damian asks with heavy skepticism.

“I mean, I have basic combat skills that I learned from Dick and Jason, but that’s about it, just enough to handle my own, but not enough to do any vigilante work,” your eyes shifted to the side in thought. “Why?”

“I find it hard to believe that anyone would pass up an opportunity to become stronger.”

“I’m stronger in my own way, thank you very much,” you rolled your eyes and turned back around to your desk. “If you need anything else, just let me know. We’re siblings so I’ll always be happy to help you out,” you opened your laptop and started typing up one of your college essays. Damian didn’t respond, and when you looked back to check on him, he was gone. “They get stranger every time too…” you mumbled right as Dick sent a text to the sibling group chat.

‘THERE’S ANOTHER ONE?!’ You chuckled and shook your head.

‘Yeah.’ Tim’s response was blunt and your heart suddenly sank. Especially when just moments later his contact name appeared across your screen. You answered without hesitation.

“Hey, Timmy, what’s up?” You asked.

“Hey, sis, are you busy right now?”

“Just working on college applications, but I have plenty of time, where are you?”

“Let’s grab a coffee together, my treat! I just want someone to talk to right now.”

“Of course, Tim, I’ll be right over, our usual spot, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll save us a table. Drive safe, (Y/N).”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m heading out now, bye!”

“See you.” He hung up first and you grabbed your things before heading out of your room. Damian, meanwhile, kicked off from the wall next to your room.

“Where are you going?” He asks. You toss him a quick glance and a shrug.

“Out, why?”

“Out to patrol, right?” He presses. You shake your head.

“Nope, I already told you, I don’t do that stuff,” you walked down the stairs and he followed.

“Not even like Gordon?”

“Uh… Mr. Gordon or Babs?” You ask.

“Barbara.”

“No, I’m not too versed in tech, not on her level at least,” you grabbed your keys. “I’d invite you to join me, but I’m meeting up with Tim so maybe next time,” you tossed them in your hand now.

“For an intel report?”

“Why are you so set on me being a vigilante? I want nothing to do with that stuff, Damian,” you turned to him now. What was so hard for him to understand that you just weren’t a fighting person?

“It’s just…” Damian stops. You realized now how small he was, he couldn’t have been older than ten. “My… our father is the Batman. My mother is Talia al Ghul and yours is Selina Kyle.” Huh, he did his research. “I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re wasting your potential. Why would you choose to be ordinary when you could be extraordinary?” He asks. You hummed and crossed your arms, what a way to put your decision down and by a child no less. You didn’t know Damian well at all, you’d just met him today and here he was putting your life on blast.

“Well, I guess that’s something we’ll both find out together later, huh? I’ll see you later, Damian,” you cut the conversation off and walked down to the garage. This time, Damian didn’t follow you.

2022

“I’m sorry you had to come here while it’s in this state, Damian,” you grimaced. You start moving around the apartment to tidy it up at least a little, “as you can tell, we’re not usually home,” you start piling beer bottles in your arms and tossing them in the bin. “I’ll be back, their majesties call,” you said with an annoyed tone before disappearing into one of the rooms.

“It feels like I have a massive hangover,” Nixon whines as he collapses on the couch.

“I think all my ribs are broken,” Carter mutters next to him.

“It’s not a competition, boy scout,” Nixon groans. “Alex?” He looks over at him.

“Get in line,” Alex finishes up wrapping Eve’s hands with fresh bandages.

“The fact that you two can both self-heal is fucking bullshit,” Nixon cries.

“It’s actually reattachment, which is much more painful than regen,” Alex replies, “Damian, come over here, (Y/N) would kill me if she saw so much as a scratch,” he gestures to the chair and Damian sits down hesitantly. “I don’t think you remember me.”

“I don’t.”

“Blunt, much?” Nixon snickers.

“I was penpals with your sister,” he rolls the bandages over Damian’s arms. “Nothing more, we had a thousand miles between us and your sister had a reply period of two business weeks,” he rolls his eyes. “Oh, Evangeline, could you look around if we have something for the lad to eat? When was the last time he ate anything?”

“When he scarfed down my lunch two days ago,” Nixon answers.

“Has it been two days?” Alex taps his head. The time period he’s been here had gone by in a blur. He didn’t even realize it had been that long at all. Landing here on this Earth, nearly being eaten alive by god knows what, and waiting in the cold dirt floors of the regroup encampment, before finally landing here. He wondered how many people went into battle because there were only fourteen people who made it to the encampment.

“I’m not hungry,” Damian cuts in. Just thinking of the brief moment he’d seen the aftermath of the battle nearly turned his stomach inside out.

“It’s not that, Damian, look at your hands,” Alex starts opening drawers and cabinets. Damian looks down and feels his throat go dry. His hands seemed nearly transparent as if he could stick them through anything and they’d easily go through.

“Explain, now!”

“This Earth’s protective spell is rejecting you since you’re not from here, eating anything from here will bypass that spell and make it seem like you’re native,” Alex opened the fridge. One beer and one egg.

“How old are you again, Damian?” Alex asks.

“Sixteen.”

“That’s old enough,” he took the bottle and hit the cap on the counter. The cap bounced off with a quiet clink and he handed it to Damian.

“He’s a child!” Eve gasps.

“Would you like to eat a raw egg, Damian?” He asks. Damian shakes his head. “Bottoms up then,” he hands the beer bottle to him.

“Wow, you two really live like this,” Nixon groans.

“How do you still have the energy to be an asshole?” Carter asks him.

“My sister surrounded herself with idiots,” Damian says with a quarter-finished bottle of beer. Just in time for you to walk out in a cleaner uniform. You adjusted your gloves over your hand.

“Oh, you gave my baby brother a beer,” you observed. “You could’ve given him the egg, you know.”

“You broke both our pot and pan,” Alex reminds you.

“In self-defense,” you grabbed your keys off the counter. “How you holding up, kiddo, tired? Hungry?”

“Confused,” Damian watched the color return to his hands.

“Wow, you two really are siblings, huh?” Nixon asks.

“I know, you think they’re idiots, it’s fine, come on, I have to take you with me,” you nudged your head toward the door and waited for Damian to follow. “Someone already reported Damian to her majesty, she’s demanding an explanation and I have about half an hour to bullshit a good one.”

“Oh, man, she’s going to give you hell, (Y/N),” Nixon’s laugh turns into a groan of pain.

“Dumbass,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, Damian, I’ll explain everything on the way,” you gestured for him to stand up and he did so. “Eve, do me a solid, can you warp us to the castle?”

“Of course,” she places her hand on her heart and bows slightly before waving her hand in a circular motion. A portal opens up next to her and inside Damian could see the faint traces of a regal room on the other side.

“You head in first, Dami,” you urged him in, and, carefully, he stepped through and landed in what looked like a waiting room. He turned around and saw a distorted version of your apartment within the vortex’s walls.

“What are you going to do about him, (Y/N)?” Alex asks.

“Get him home, obviously. But not now, the royal family is watching him because some idiot reported him as a survivor,” you shook your head. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Until then, he’d going to have to act.”

“I know, that’s what I’m worried about. I'm just trying to make sure he doesn't freak out,” you said before you finally stepped through and it swirled closed. “Okay so…” you looked Damian over, “I asked his highness for a favor, you can’t go in wearing your uniform,” you brushed the ashes off of his shoulder. Then, behind you, there is a knock at the door.

“Captain? May I come in?” Calvin’s voice was only loud enough for those in the room to hear.

“Door’s open.” The prince slid in with a bundle of clothes in his hands.

“Oh, goodness, when I heard you’d brought back a child with you I didn’t think the rumors were serious,” Calvin stares at Damian for a moment longer before turning to you. “These should fit him, I think, it’s the uniform we give to the wards when they’re still training.”

“I know what these are, I usually hand them out anyway,” you shrugged. “Damian, this is His Highness the Crown Prince, Calvin Reinhart. Your Highness, this is my younger brother, Damian Wayne.”

“I see, there is a subtle aura to you both that I now understand runs in the family,” he says vaguely. You handed the clothes to Damian.

“Get changed into those, kiddo, then we’ll talk,” you nodded.

“Comfort room is just across the hall,” Calvin points in its general direction with two fingers and Damian turns to you. You just nodded your head again and he left, just barely catching the conversation behind him. “I never took you as one to pick up a ward.”

“He’s in my care for the time being and he’s interested in Knighthood.” Your voices fell silent as soon as he closed the door behind him. He looked at himself in the mirror for a brief moment, spotting the scars and the healed-over gashes as well as the bandages, before slipping on the fresher pair of clothes. He folded his tattered uniform carefully, the encircled R staring back at him as he walked back.

“We should have him complete a field test then, you know what people would say if you just let him in.” Damian walked into the rest of the conversation and you held your hand out. He placed his uniform on it and you pushed it carefully into a backpack that you handed to him after.

“Oh, of course, I’ll do it by the books,” you reassured him. “What should I expect walking in?”

“My father wants a full report on what happened, you can just ignore whatever chide remarks my mother sends your way though,” he says.

“And you?”

“I don’t have a say in any of this,” he sighs. He looks at Damian. “Wow, a perfect fit.”

“He’s as ready for this as any of those other kids are,” you crossed your arms.

“Are you sure? That test is difficult, I barely got through it,” he says.

“Yours was a formality, your highness,” you reminded him.

“Right, right,” Calvin nods with a knowing smile. “I’ll see you in the throne room, then,” he bids goodbye and closes the door quietly behind him.

“Look at you, handsome devil,” you rubbed his hair gently and leaned against the table in the room. “Alright, Damian, ready for your first mission on this new Earth?”

“Absolutely,” he straightens up.

“Mission one on the new Earth: Be good, blend in. Look, the royal family can’t know that you dropped from another Earth, okay? As far as they know we’ve all been born and raised here, very few people know about where the Brigade members came from. So, let’s get our story straight,” you leaned down and spoke in a quiet voice. Your eyes moved side to side to ensure that no one was listening. “Like usual, you are my younger brother. Our parents are living in the mountain regions and sent both of us down when we were teenagers to find livelihoods. I’m all done, but you’re just starting, I brought you in to live with me because you were interested in joining the Knight’s Order, and from today on you will be my apprentice,” you spoke in a steady voice and he nodded.

“Anything else I should know?”

“Don’t look into the eyes of the queen directly, she’ll know that you’re lying,” you told him. “Each member of the royal family has a special ability that has kept them in power. The King can crush your bones at the snap of his fingers, the Queen can know if you’re telling the truth with a simple glance at your eyes, and the Prince can throw anything and it’d reach it’s target. The presence of these innate abilities and the power to grant them is proof of royal blood,” you explained. “But, you don’t need to worry about all of that, hell, you don’t even have to worry about the practical exam coming up to enter as a Knight’s apprentice, at your skill level I’d promote you to the highest already,” you laughed shortly. “But, let me do all the talking in there, just observe, and if you notice something’s off, find a subtle way to tell me,” you stood up and he followed you out. You knew the layout of the castle already, having been here almost as many times as your own home, and finally you stood beyond two grandiose doors that stretched higher than Damian thought normal.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he nodded his head and you opened the doors, together, you both walked into the grand throne room. Before you sat three of the most powerful people in that world and, to say the least, Damian felt the pressure in the atmosphere. It was similar to those few times when he knew his enemies out-skilled him. He found himself subconsciously moving toward you and, as if you understood, your hand pulled him closer.

“Captain,” the King spoke.

“Your Majesty,” you stopped a good distance away from the thrones, bowed your head, and put your hand to your heart. Damian followed suit.

“What is that behind you,” the Queen spat. Damian didn’t miss the annoyed look in your eyes as you looked up at the other woman.

“My younger brother, and soon to be my apprentice,” you explained.

“I see,” she relaxes into her seat. “Quite the predicament you’ve found yourself in. If he will affect your duties, dispose of him.” Damian’s fists clenched behind his back, but he said nothing.

“That won’t be a problem. You’ll soon see that he is a very capable young man.”

“Tch,” the Queen turned her nose. Damian suddenly realizes why Jason would be so pissed when he did that to him. “So he’s virtually untouchable.”

“Yes.”

“Give me news on that village,” the King cut into the conversation.

“It’s unsalvageable, Your Majesty,” You replied curtly. He shifted slightly.

“How many survivors?”

“Five…”

“Hundred?” He cut you off.

“No, your majesty. Five,” you touched your heart again. “Correction, three, not including us from the Knight’s Order.”

“My god,” the Queen shook her head. “How could your team, your special operations unit, have failed?!”

“I believe I’ve told you before, Your Majesty, there have been frequent sightings of a new and much stronger daemon in our midst. Usually, we have been able to handle these mutations, but, for reasons unknown, an entire herd of a new variant descended upon the village,” you stood your ground and continued to explain the situation, all of which Damian already knew as Eve filled him in.

“Usually?” The King’s stance straightened and the Queen’s expression grew grave.

“Father, if you’d recall, I gave you a brief report on the Brigade’s findings a few days ago,” Calvin spoke up. The King held his hand up and Calvin stopped. “Captain, you look like you’re about to say something,” he gestures toward you.

“Yes, Your Majesty, I can assure you that the Brigade has everything under control.”

“New variant?” She asks. “How long have you been dealing with these beasts before informing us?!”

“Near a year now, Your Majesty, but with much smaller variants.”

“A year?! When were you planning on reporting this?!” She shouts.

“The Brigade has had this issue under control up until now. The mutations were advancing at a slow rate until now, and thus we kept a watchful eye on them. As I said, the variant that destroyed that village is a new one. We have never seen one that advanced that far,” your voice remained firm.

It was a presence that Damian wasn’t used to. The longer he stayed here, the more he realizes how much you’ve changed. Especially now, you look just like their father. Damian’s eyes wandered to the Prince, who was silent this entire time. He was almost entirely different than when he saw him earlier, whatever warmth he thought he saw in him was replaced with a bitter coldness that matched his parents, it was almost impressive. Calvin was watching you with a strange mix of curiosity, confusion, and concern. His head rested on the palm of his hand as he tried to feign superiority, but he held a similar annoyed expression that you had, with his eyes constantly shifting to the Queen, who seemed ready to boil over with rage.

“I see,” the King tapped his foot, the sound bouncing off of the room’s walls. “Then continue doing what you’ve been doing.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Await further orders then, Captain. You are dismissed.” You bowed your head again, turned on your heel, and left, Damian following close behind with every hair at the back of his neck standing up from the stares alone.

“What do you mean, you can’t find him?” Dick shouts. Tim rubs his head angrily and gestures toward the screen.

“Do you see him on the radar? No? Well, neither can I!” He argues. Jason rolls his eyes.

“Stop arguing,” Bruce sighs.

“Why am I even here?” Jason grumbles. He takes his helmet. “I’m out, this is stupid. We’re wasting time using this tech, I’ll find him myself and drag him back, yeah? Maybe the kid found (Y/N) already too,” he says.

“Jason has a point, we’re getting nowhere configuring this system,” Bruce concedes.

“Jason, Bruce, wait, come on, we should make sure he’s alright, the fact that he’s not pinging here is a huge problem,” Dick reasons. Tim turns back to the bat computer and a notification pings. “Hold on, there’s some noise about a strange light in the third district, it might be something to look into.”

“Pull it up, then,” Bruce says.

“Yeah,” Tim answers. He pulls up the grainy CCTV footage, speeding through the footage to find something of interest, and once he saw the bright light he scrubbed back a few minutes, and the figure centered in it was unmistakable. They watched as Damian ran around the area, asking random people who happened to be passing by, and whatnot, then a stranger walked up to him and inaudibly told him something. Whatever he said, Damian listened carefully, before the stranger pulled out what looked similar to a pocket watch. Damian watched the pendulum move from side to side before falling to the ground. The stranger lifted him and disappeared into the alley, a bright light emitting from it, and the footage ended there.

“Shit… I should’ve known it was one of the three,” Steph frowns.

“Three?” Tim turns to her.

“You know… aliens, robots, or wizards? This has to be wizard, it’s written all over it,” she says.

“Damian was not kidnapped by wizards,” Tim drags a tired hand down his face.

“Holy shit, Damian was kidnapped by wizards?!” Jason looks up from his phone and then it was Bruce’s turn to sigh, but before the argument could continue, then a notification pings on the batcomputer and Tim was quick to navigate to it.

“Whoa… what’s that?” Jason looks at the picture on the screen.

“I think (Y/N) left it behind, I found it on her seat after I woke up,” Tim skims through the report. “Damn… no matches.”

“Looks like it belongs to a wizard,” Steph whispers, and Cass snickers.

“Wait, try cross-referencing it with the CCTV from earlier,” Dick cuts in.

“You sure?” Tim asks.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he was holding a watch.”

“It could just be a pocket watch, you know?” Jason argues.

“Who the hell carries pocket watches in the 21st century?” Steph chides.

“It’s a match!” Tim nearly jumps from his seat.

“Shit, never mind then,” Jason shrugs and Tim pulls the pocketwatch from its spot on the console. He opens it quickly.

“Take a look inside of it, I noticed that the watch face looked too peculiar,” Tim tapped it and so far, no dice. There was no reaction or movement whatsoever. Inside the watch face was a series of concentric circles that were intersected by a number of hands that extended the length of each circle’s radii.

“Yeah… uh… maybe it also reads milliseconds,” Jason hums.

“I doubt that,” Tim grimaces.

“You guys really think it’s magic?” Dick asks.

“I’m thinking more of that it could be some complicated tech that neither of us understands yet,”

And so, operation Save Damian is a go.

2015

“So… how’s the new kid doing?” Steph asks. You, her, Cass, and Babs sat at a cafe table, you just wanting to eat your sandwich while the three of them were extra intent on hearing the drama from you firsthand.

“Damian’s doing good, stellar, actually, like… he’s probably one of the best Robins from the get-go,” you shrugged.

“Best Robin? That’s a loaded statement,” Steph chuckled.

“I did say from the get-go. But, to be fair, Damian’s raising situation was a little different than the others.”

“Right, the al Ghuls,” Steph says with an exaggerated tone.

“If you want to ask about Robin stuff you should ask the guys though, I’m not involved in that stuff,” you shook your head. “Like… Jesus, the kid’s only ten! I know it’s not my place to judge but… I kinda want to give him at least a bit of a childhood but he’s so…” you trailed, trying to find the right words to say.

“Bratty?” Steph asks.

“Rude?” Babs tries.

“Conceited?” Cass says before drinking her iced coffee.

“Those are a bit harsh,” you shook your head. You sighed and played with your straw for a bit. “Lonely. He seems very lonely,” you drank some of your drink, trying to ignore the hinted tension at the table now. “I don’t know… I mean, I get it, I do. He grew up to be an assassin, and he didn’t have time or the privilege to make friends, I don’t have the full story so I can’t assume, I just want him to feel comfortable,” you rest your chin on your palm.

“Takes one to know one, huh?” Cass asks.

“Yeah,” you answered absently. Then, in the blink of an eye, you smiled and shook your head. “Not that I was lonely, you know? Obviously, I had all of you, my brothers, my mom, and Alfred so I had plenty of people, and you’re all so wonderful so… I just want Damian to see that too. I get why he doesn’t want to be close with me since I’m just ordinary, but I hope at least Dick gets through to him,” you said.

“Well, Dick has a way with people so I’m sure they’ll bond somehow,” Babs nods.

“Ordinary… you’ve never used that word before,” Cass taps a finger on the table and you shook your head.

“It’s no big deal, it’s just the truth,” you shrugged. “When I first met Damian he said something interesting to me, actually,” you adjusted yourself so you were more comfortable on the metal chairs, “he brought up how our dad is Bruce Wayne, then he brought up how my mom is Selina Kyle, and he asked me why I settled to be ordinary when I could’ve been extraordinary.”

“Yeah, sis, he’s just a brat,” Steph deadpans.

“Hey now,” you shot a pointed look at her and she shrugs. “Anyway, I got to thinking about it over with Tim—”

“Aw, hell, Tim! Shit, how’d he take the news?” Steph asks. You shook your head.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but not well. Wait for him to talk to you about it though,” you told her. “But back on topic… I discussed it with Tim and he told me that of all of us, I was the most important member,” you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t buy it at first but…” you took a deep breath. “Every super family needs a civilian, right?” You finally said. Cass reached over and held your hand in hers, squeezing it with some amount of reassurance.

“You are so much more than just an ordinary civilian, (Y/N),” Steph says. “You’re our sister, through and through. Not just anyone can shut Jason up the way you do,” she adds with a short laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sure Damian is hurting right now, he needs time to open up,” Cass says.

“He’s an interesting boy, he’s so mission-driven that it surprises me,” Babs sighs.

“Dad thinks that me taking him out is a waste,” you sighed.

“Bruce said that?” Babs masks her surprise.

“He said it in a very Bruce Wayne way, you know? I told him I’d be taking Damian with me somewhere and he would hit me with the “Again?” and ugh it just makes me angry,” you grumbled.

“Well, he was never able to control you either, so there’s probably not much he could do to stop you,” Steph says.

“Like he’d try,” you leaned back against the chair and stole a glance at your watch. “I should head back to the manor, I still have assignments,” you sighed.

“Oh, need a ride? Let’s share an Uber,” Babs says.

“Sure, yeah, how about you two?”

“I have to go on patrol,” Steph says.

“Ditto,” Cass readjusts her scarf and you nod.

“Good luck, then, stay safe,” you gave the both of them hugs before following Barbra.

“You know, (Y/N),” Barbara spoke up when you were a good distance away, “I think what you’re doing for Damian is good,” she says.

“What am I doing?”

“Giving him a chance,” she says. “You’re right, he’s still a child, even though he acts so mature, sometimes I hear a sliver of the child he is and it reminds me that normally he wouldn’t be handling these kinds of missions,” she says.

“Yeah, I always worry about him,” you shake your head.

“(Y/N), about what Tim said, he’s right, you know. You keep us in touch with our human side, I know sometimes you feel left out when you walk into our meetings, but you are an instrumental member of our family,” she continues. “Remember that, (Y/N).”

“I know, I know,” you nodded. You’d known ever since you renounced the vigilante business. The looks you got from everyone were just different, and the looks you got from people after were just as bad.

“Thirsty? You should drink something,” you pulled out two discs from your pocket while you and Damian walked along the castle halls. Holding the discs close together, you firmly grasped onto the handles and twisted them to open and, as you separated the discs, water gathered between them.

“Whoa…” he observes it and you hand it to him. “How do I drink this?”

“You can hold it with one hand,” you chuckled and reached over, pulling out a small sphere of water and popping it into your mouth. “We have actual water bottles, but it’s just easier to carry that around,” you said.

“Is this magic?” He copies you and pulls a small sphere of water from the middle before drinking it.

“Yup, Alex brought it from somewhere,” you answered while Damian handed the device back to you. You resealed it and put it away. “Now, today’s the entrance practical for new knights, I gotta admit that we lucked out there. Like I said earlier, I’m pretty sure you’ll pass with flying colors,” you turned him down a hallway.

“What should I expect?”

“It’s divided into two exams. The first is an obstacle course, you have to get through it within ten minutes. The second is a mock hunt, you’ll have to fight and capture a beginner-level beast,” you say. “Easy, for you, trust.” You both walked out into the training grounds, Damian shielded his eyes from the harsh sunlight while he looked around seeing knights of various backgrounds roam around. “See that building over there? The one with the green banner on it? That’s for you and the other examinees, go ahead and make yourself comfortable there for now while I meet with the others to prep the course, and, oh! One more thing Dami!”

“Yeah?”

“Be nice to the other kids, okay? Not everyone's as cool as you.” You urged him forward and you waited for him to reach the practice house before taking off yourself.

Damian opened the door cautiously, seeing boys and girls similar to his age all talking amongst themselves and preparing for the exam.

“So the rumors are true, they let in a homeschooler?” One of the boys snarked. Damian turns to him, unamused. “Guess what, mountain boy, this exam isn’t for bumpkins like you,” he sneers.

“Oh, leave him alone, Hugo!” One of the girls grimaces. “Here, new kid, come sit with us,” she waves Damian over to a table with a few others and, remembering your words, obliges. “I’m Retta,” she introduces herself.

“Damian,” he sits next to her.

“I’m Niers!” The platinum blond boy next to him is next.

“My name’s Luciana,” the tanned girl goes next.

“And I’m Lowen,” the last boy introduces himself.

“So, is it true? You didn’t go to any of the academies?” Niers asks. Damian nods.

“Yeah, I trained… in the mountains,” he holds back a groan. Maybe you didn’t change at all, your lies were still obvious.

“That’s so crazy, I always forget there’s a whole village up there,” Niers hums. “Shoot, so you don’t know what to expect, huh?”

“I have an idea,” Damian eyes the tarts that Retta stacks on his plate.

“Eat them, they’re good for you. They have some mild stamina enhancers in them,” she smiles.

“I mean, we’ve kinda always known what the exam has,” Luciana mutters. “Lowen and I have siblings in the Knighthood already,” she says.

“Really?” Well, that’s a coincidence.

“Yeah, my older brother’s Aldryn,” Lowen says it with a slight hint of disdain. “Luci's are the twins in lab coats.”

“My older siblings! Marion'll be at the test today too, I’m so nervous,” she chews on the inside of her lip and Retta places a cookie on her plate.

“For the nerves,” she says. “No worries though, depending on how you fail you get a retest,” Retta explains.

“Is it really that difficult?” Damian asks.

“Oh, you don’t even know,” Niers shudders. “But… all of this for one reason!” He says. The four teens put their hands in the center and a blazing determination appears in their gazes. They glance at Damian, waiting for him to join in and, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he does so.

“To meet the Captain Wayne in the flesh!” Luciana says. Damian is taken aback for a moment.

“To meet the Captain Wayne!” The other three announce. What are the odds he gets sucked into his sister’s fan club?

‘Good grief…’ he could feel his battery draining already.

“Examinees, to the exam field,” Nixon walks in holding a clipboard. He eyes Damian but makes no other attempts at acknowledgment before leaving.

“That’s our cue! Follow us, Damian, we help each other out in this group!” Retta smiles.

“And who said I was in this group?”

“We all did now go!” Niers pushes everyone forward.

Damian listened in on all the conversations on their way to the site, trying to get a general idea of what awaited him. He’d heard many different things, but if one detail was certain, it was that the beast at the end was what they called a ‘Hamig’ whatever that was. You had mentioned to him that it was a beginner-level beast, but he still remained on his guard.

But when he saw the test site, he had to hold back a laugh. And when he spotted you walking toward the group, the eye contact alone almost made you both laugh.

You were right. This was child’s play.

“Students of the 28th class, today is your practical exam to join the Knighthood. My name is Captain (Y/N) Wayne and I oversee all the affairs of the Knighthood and the Brigade. Today myself, Nixon Jones, and Carter Adara will be observing your exams and grading you. You will know if you passed or failed as soon as you complete the exam and you are allowed one retest and one only. If you fail both of those, you will be held back to the next class practical which will happen exactly a year from now. We will be conducting the first exam now, then we’ll have a break, and finally the second part. Don’t let your guard down, and impress us. Your rankings will be given to you today as well,” you instructed. “So, who’s first?” You looked among the crowd. Damian crossed his arms, the first rule of undercover was easy, don’t stand out. He would have to observe the general skill level of everyone first just in case. “Ah, a volunteer already! Let’s see if I’m remembering correctly, Hugo Gardner?” You asked. Damian’s gaze moved over to the boy who pushed his way forward.

“That’s me, I’m glad you remember,” his bravado’s unmatched.

“Right, hard to forget you,” you smiled.

“This is Hugo’s fourth time retaking the practical,” Lowen says quietly, and Damian fights back a snort. This was the kid who tried to demean him? He couldn’t wait to see him fail the course.

And fail he did. Landing face first into the mud below because he didn’t gauge how far the next platform was.

“Gardner, back to the group, you’ll be retesting after everyone completes their exam,” Carter says.

“Whatever,” Hugo spats. “See that, mountain boy?! If I could barely get through it you could kiss this title goodbye!” He laughs. Damian glares at him and you shook your head. Not yet, it was a reminder.

Then, students came and went, students passed, and students failed, and, finally, that left Damian. He had looked over everyone’s abilities enough that he could replicate it to avoid attention, he didn’t want to make this more difficult for you, at least. He had heard a range of different times already, he’d heard eight minutes, nine minutes, eleven minutes, and more and less. The best time right now was five minutes and forty-two seconds. He could complete this in two, but he knew he shouldn’t, don’t draw attention.

“You can still drop out, mountain hobo!” Hugo’s insults were obviously forced.

Aw, whatever, Damian couldn’t resist a chance to show off against people like that. So, he stood at the starting line, and once you had blown the whistle, he took off.

The first course was simple, climbing. One jump and a strategically planned landing point had him at the top in seconds. Then, where Gardner failed, the jump to the next platform. Easy, Damian didn’t have to think of it. The next section was a series of spinning columns with various protrusions, and this one took out a lot of the cohort already, but, again, easy. The trick was to see the pattern before running in, and he’d seen it so many times already. The final part stretched over a small body of water with various buoys set up. There were many strategies for this one, such that he’d seen, either use momentum at each buoy or use them as floaters. Damian decided to do neither of those and used them as platforms instead, moving with ease among each and landing at the finish line.

“Two minutes,” Nixon clicks the stopwatch, and surprised gasps and cheers followed.

“That was crazy, Damian! Why didn’t you tell us you were that good?” Niers compliments him. “Shoot, now I feel kinda embarrassed, you’re a pro!”

“We worried for no reason,” Luci's shoulders relaxed.

“Hey, check out Hugo,” Lowen grins. Hugo had begun his retest, standing at the top of the climbing tower and staring at the platform. Be good, Damian thought of those words again. After years of living with his father, of being good, maybe this new Earth was a chance to try anew.

“Hey, Gardner!” Damian shouts. Hugo glares at him. “Focus on the platform before you jump, trust your instincts! If you’d been training for this, then you can handle it,” Damian instructs. Hugo takes a deep breath and, assumably, follows Damian’s instructions and successfully lands on the platform.

“Shouldn’t we call that out,” Nixon nudges you.

“No, I don’t think I can handle watching Hugo come in another year, he’s been working hard for this. Teamwork and trust are also tenets we emphasize,” you say. You watched Hugo continue through the course with difficulty and, once he’d reached the finish, Nixon checked the stopwatch.

“Eight minutes and seven seconds,” he calls, “congrats, Hugo, you advance to the final test,” he says. Hugo stands for a moment, catching his breath, when tears finally slipped down and his friends rushed over to him, all congratulating him on his achievement.

“You did good, kid,” you nudged Damian with your clipboard and he shrugs it off.

“Whatever…” he says. You slipped a lunch bag in his hand.

“So, let’s take a break, then we’ll complete today’s exam. Everyone who didn’t pass, don’t take it to heart, use this as a learning experience to prepare for the next exam. And those who did pass, don’t let it get to your head, the second exam is much harder,” you announced, walking past Damian as if nothing had happened.

“Damian! Come over here!” Retta calls him over again and he follows while he opened the paper bag and spotted the salad and fruits inside, and beneath it a wrapped veggie burger. Then, as he sat down, Damian felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and, if memory served him right, then your note should be sandwiched under the fruits and bingo. He reads the note in the bag, keeping his privacy about himself as he does so.

‘Why did P stick with J? Because P is butter with J! - Big Sis’ There is no Earth where that would have been funny. But, call it instinct, he flipped the note over and lo and behold, the actual message.

‘Hey Dami, the lunch they’re serving is boar roast and, obviously, you can’t eat that, so I had my assistant run and grab you these. They might taste a little different than what you’re used to, though, just keep an open mind.’

Keep an open mind? Damian pulled the salad out, eyeing the purple lettuce and pink spinach.

Oh.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, you walked straight forward, stopping in front of the cage with the beast inside, still standing, and still looming, but still silent. You looked at it carefully, going over all the details with a new understanding.

“Hello, old friend,” you crossed your arms and the beast seemed to bow its head. Unable to speak, it raises it now, exposing the dog tags melted into its fur. You looked at the protective circles around it, stepping through them carefully to approach the cage and, just barely, you could just barely make out the name on it.

‘CK - 78’ was engraved on it. Whoever this was, they weren’t part of the Knighthood.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are,” you backed away from the cage and the beast whimpered, lowering to the ground and lying there peacefully.

“Captain,” you look over your shoulder and watch the two twin scientists enter.

“That’s the most relaxed it’s been,” Inigo speaks up.

“All day, every day, that thing snarls at me and snaps at whoever nears it. It likes you, Cap, I don’t know why though,” Marion shakes her head.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Mary,” you lied. Again, you looked at the beast, who watched you with one eye.

“Pitiful creature, if we weren’t studying it then I would’ve put it out of his misery,” Inigo shoves his hands into his lab coat pockets. “So, what can we help you with, Cap?”

“Just looking, there’s something that’s been bothering me since the last attack,” you crossed your arms. “The report said that this beast displayed an unparalleled strength, and after dealing with similar variants I can confirm that,” you looked over the beast again.

“We’ve been trying to heal the wounds too,” Marion says, “it won’t let us get close.”

“The beast is guarded, most wild beasts are,” you nodded. “Well, keep up the good work, it’s about time I proctored the second exam,” you looked at your watch.

“Damn, that time of the year already? Cut 'em some slack, Cap.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved your hand and left the room, hearing the beast stand up behind you with sounds of metal hitting the cage to prove it.

Not Your Classic Vigilante: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435 @f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnack @akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz @lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc

#dc #batman #batfamily #batfam #batsis #batsis fics #batfamily x batsis!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily scenarios #batfamily x reader #batsis!reader #batfam fics #batfamily fics #batfamily x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #my writings #nycv

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runningupthatvecna · 1 year

Text

the law of seat partners | part 3

part 1 | part 2

a/n: ok this chapter is honestly a wild ride from start to finish, really had to look into google maps to get the geographics right here, sorry if it's a bit inaccurate, the dimensions in the us are a bit difficult to grasp for my european brain lol. same goes for the bus interior and the structure of road houses. also this is gonna be super self-indulgent since i keep picturing eddie as someone with this wholesome, kind and super soft stray dog side of personality that you only get to see once you break through his shell and i'm basically just romanticising the shit out of him in this entire story. also i apologize if the whole part is a bit random, it's just that i didn't plan for this thing to even have more than one part lol. anyway, thanks for reading and please leave me comments and reblogs if you're enjoying this little series! there will be a part 4.

summary: you're still on that damn bus with eddie. he plays you some of his favourite songs and they turn out to sound really familiar. when you do finally arrive at the camp, you find yourself spending even more time with your favourite metalhead and he makes it just a bit more clear that he might really like you back. and yeah, everyone around you already seems to know.

cw/tw: first off i want to clarify that eddie and reader both are at least twenty! slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers overall, (brief) allusions to +18 adult content (minors go away!), sexual tension, lots of physical touch, reader being self-conscious, angst, not feeling good enough briefly, a bit of self-sabotage if you squint, a few more pet names, bestfriend!Steve being reader's rock once again, reassurance, eddie not committing a crime, no mention of y/n, no mentions of reader's physical attributes except hair.

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Lunch break acted as a reminder that the rest of your friends were also still there.

That's how lost you were getting with Eddie Munson and your legs in his lap.

The gang was once again standing in a kind of circle shaped form outside on the parking lot next to the bus. You had passed Chicago already a while ago and the blue sky hadn't exactly followed you to Wisconsin, but thankfully it wasn't raining either.

Without even thinking about it you had taken the position between Eddie and Steve.

Jonathan and Nancy were standing opposite of you, the former holding his beloved pentax in his hands, it dangling from his shoulder on a strap being the guy's default. Always ready to press the shutter, just so now.

Steve groaned a little, complaining about how his hair just wasn't looking good enough to be in a photo right now, but no one cared. As someone who loved taking photos – probably even more than the Byers boy – it was in fact one of your pet peeves whenever someone complained about having their photo taken. In your book, photos depicted memories. Why wouldn't you want to be in them?

"You gonna fill that film up today, Jon?", you asked with a grin, and the photographer just nodded.

"Alright, now that we caught Steve's mesmerizing beauty on film, anyone wanna go grab a bite?", Robin asked into the round while shifting her weight continuously from her toes to her heels and back, trying her best not to sound too desperate to get something between her teeth.

"Oh shit yeah, I'm dying", Steve replied after a quick yawn and stretch and the three freshmen boys agreed with heavy nods and exclamations of the words yes and finally.

Their boyish eagerness made Nancy chuckle just a little, and she continued by taking the hand of the older Byers boy and pulling him along with her, leading the way to the building for the rest of you.

Jonathan kept turning around every few meters to just take candids of everyone, trying to fill up the roll of film just so he could reload once you guys would arrive at the camp.

Everyone in the gang seemed to be willing to at least check out the offers from the shop, and like, get a slushie or something.

"M'lady?"

Eddie had squinted one of his eyes shut looking at you while holding his arm out for you to hold onto it, just so you both could follow the group.

"Oh, thank you good sir."

He was just a little taller than you, which made walking with your arm hooked into his quite comfortable.

You threw the knowing smile of his towards you right back at him.

And while you were following the rest of your friends, he leaned in to talk to you. Even more.

"Quite rude of Ms Kelley to interrupt our sacred listening session like that. I guess she just doesn't seem to value a good tune, huh?"

"We didn't even start the tape, Eddie."

"But we already had headphones on so we were about to, that still counts."

He poked a finger into your side while walking, trying to stop you from bringing another absolutely valid and logical argument to his silly remark, making you squeak and jump to the side a little instead, letting go of his arm.

You only could see Steve's head turn towards you, having heard your exclamation of surprise. More of his reaction was kept hidden from you though, since Eddie had decided to continue poking, so you were left with no choice but to run, giggling like a toddler.

"Eddieeee, stoooop", you yelled in a higher pitch than your normal voice, trying and failing miserably at the attempt to hide between Robin, Will and Lucas.

You could hear your friends laugh, the sight must have been hilarious.

There was no escaping Eddie the freak Munson.

You had almost reached the motion sensor of the front door when he grabbed you by the waist, pulled your back flush against his front and apparently felt no hesitation encasing you in his arms entirely. He let out a short, low hum at the feeling and it sent a shiver straight through you.

You were slowly getting warm at the frequency you were having physical contact with him, but having so much of his body touching yours in this way did not leave you unaffected in the slightest.

His embrace made your heartbeat speed up, but it also transported this really comforting, almost soothing wave of feeling protected.

And it had you yearning for him. And it was essentially confusing you.

"Say that I'm right", you heard his deep voice mumble, the side of his head pressed lightly against yours.

You could feel the warmth radiating from his body. The way he smelled. The way he held you tight.

Yeah, bye.

"Huh?"

You wanted your voice to sound equally low to his, but it didn't come out quite as such.

"Ms Kelley disrespects the law."

He couldn't be serious.

"Eddieeeeee!", you laughed at his silliness and the great amount of dramatics he put into his persistence with referring to his law of seat partners rule joke thing.

The long haired boy let go of you since the others had caught up. You just saw him grin at you, before Steve swung an arm around his shoulders, pulling his best friend through the sliding doors, while you felt Max grab your hand.

The road house your teachers had decided to stop at consisted of a restaurant, bathrooms of course and a small convenience store, the latter being the destination of Max and you, while the others ventured out into the restaurant, trying to find something warm and edible to stuff themselves with before they would join the both of you.

"Are you having a good time? With him, I mean", Max dropped at you, slowly strolling through the aisles of products that ranged from sweets over car supplies to toothpaste.

The widest grin was plastered over her face as she eyed you curiously.

The question surprised you a little. And maybe you hadn't really been aware of your surroundings for the last few hours, for obvious reasons.

"Hm? Oh yeah, he's being so sweet", you replied to your friend, "not sure what's gotten into him today though, he's never been like this."

Max gave you a questioning look, clearly asking you to elaborate.

"I don't know, I mean he's always throwing arms around me and stuff, but this, I don't know, this feels different", you continued, not being able to meet her eye, "I mean, he's always nice to me when we're around each other, but he seems so much m–"

"He likes you."

Max interrupted your sentence.

"What?"

"It's so fucking obvious. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

I mean, yeah sure you had taken notice of the way he had been gazing at you with his baby cow eyes all day today. Actually, ever since he met you all those months ago, now that you're thinking about it. But why would you read anything into that?

You felt warmth spreading over your cheeks.

Did Eddie Munson really like you? Like that?

"He's just being nice, Max."

Only now you shot her a look, trying to tell her what you were too self-conscious, even anxious about to say out loud.

Guys never really seemed to see you as someone they could like. You were so used to the vast majority of them treating you as one of their bros, if they even treated you like anything at all, so when there was someone showing interest in you in other ways, it freaked the living hell out of you. To the point of denying yourself something potentially nice. Or more like, someone nice.

"Just nice? He is never that nice to me! I think you're just way too much in your head about this. You know you like him. And he likes you back, it's crystal clear to me, in fact, to all of us."

Wait. All of them? Had he talked to anyone about you?

Now you were the one giving her the questioning look, and before you could say anything, Robin popped up next to the both of you with a pair of wide eyes along with raised eyebrows.

"Okay, what are we buying, hm? I need more cookies, Steve and Jonathan ate all of them already", she informed you, walking off to find her restock of baked sweets, just as quickly as she had appeared.

You giggled lightly at the similarity of her and your snack situation.

Max only gave you a grin and a wink through her sky blue eyes before following Robin to the cookie section. The boys and Nancy returned from their feast not long after and you had tried your best to bring your focus to the task at hand: finding something snackable that wasn't too much of an overload, but also essential for the remaining time on the road.

Steve grabbed and pulled you away from the others on the way outside, back to the bus. The thirty minutes were almost over and no one wanted to risk being left in the middle of nowhere aka Bumfuck, Wisconsin, nor having a search party consisting of Ms Kelley and Mr Clarke out roaming the area.

"Hey there", Steve looked at you while walking by your side and throwing an arm around you.

He truly was your best friend and so you just happened to know everything about each other's lives. He had always been your rock throughout high school and mainly responsible for having you be part of the gang. He knew about your issues and always tried to give you advice.

You let your arm sneak around Steve's back, around the height of his waist.

"Everything alright with you, honey?"

You glanced up at him just nodding and he shot you a knowing look, before turning his head around to wink at someone.

The grin on his face widened before turning his attention back to you.

"Uh yeah, I'm having a good time, thanks for checking on me", you replied to him while holding onto the box of chocolates you had ended up buying.

"Munson treating you right I hope, yeah?", Steve inquired further.

You could feel your heart jump a little at the mention of Eddie's name. What you also could feel was the eyes of the long wavy haired boy on your back. He had run after Dustin who had pinched his ass on the way out and you just assumed they were a bit further behind you and Steve.

"A bit more than usual, yeah. I don't really understand why, though. Max said he likes me? But–"

A little frown now covered Steve's lightly freckled face.

You stopped. He stopped. And kept his arm around you. And then you sighed, when his big brown eyes found yours and the way he looked at you changed into a worried brow furrow.

"I think I'm terrified, Steve. I don't know how to behave around him seriously and I don't know how to handle all the affection. That's all so new and I don't want to disappoint him because he deserves someone who's able to give him everything he wants and he's already making himself vulnerable by letting someone in close like that and what if he's gonna realise that I'm just really weird for not being used to–"

"Hey, hey sweetheart, slow down", Steve put a stop to your little ramble, a soft tone to his voice, "you're overthinking. You like him, isn't that right?"

You just looked up at him, almost a bit teary eyed since you were realising a lot of things at the moment, and dealing with your own insecurities and issues was just not easy. Especially in a situation where you couldn't retreat or flee.

And then you nodded.

Steves frown shifted into a grin.

"Then there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Eddie right there is probably genuinely surprised that you're not shying or running away from him, like everyone else. Just look."

Steve pointed in Eddie's direction which made you turn your head. Next thing you saw was the metalhead chasing after Dustin again, both of them running through the group trying not to bump into anyone, all the way over the expanse of the parking lot like two headless chickens, his dark mane flowing in the wind which carried the laughter and giggles of the whole group over to you.

The sight made you laugh a little.

"I mean, not that he really ever tried to get close to someone, like, he doesn't have to try for people to be sort of intimidated and even scared off by him, but that's besides the point. Anyway, I just know for a fact that you could never disappoint him. I'm very sure he's gonna be fine adapting himself to your pace", Steve explained and then paused to take a deep breath.

"It's up to you of course, but I'd just hate to see you get in your own way just because you're too much in your own pretty, little head."

You had snapped your head around again, and Steve lovingly ruffled your hair a little, the way he always did when he tried to tell you that he'd always be there for you and the situation you'd found yourself in would turn out just fine.

You would be just fine.

Deep down you knew Steve was right.

"Yeah, yeah I know. You know how I can get sometimes", you replied to him, reciprocating the same look Steve was now giving you. The depth in his brown eyes was radiating warmth and it helped you calm down your racing thoughts. Steve had known Eddie for a bit longer and was closer with him in general, which was one of your reasons to believe the words of your best friend. In this moment at least.

-----

It was time for the tape.

You took off your shoes again and pulled your legs up to rest your feet on the barrier, this time right in front of you, facing more towards the window.

The boy next to you was still trying to catch his breath from shaking off some energy, pulling a squished paper bag with greasy spots out of the back pocket of his jeans and placing it on his lap, before he lost the vest and leather jacket. He then proceeded to sit down, take both of your headphones and held yours out to you.

"Alright, unlike Ms Kelley, let's obey the law again, huh?"

He let out a deep chuckle when you nodded with a smile.

"Oh hey, and I got you some extra fries, just in case you get hungry."

He handed the small paper bag to you.

Did he just carry fries in his ass pocket?

The thought made you snort.

Oh Munson.

"Did you pay for them?"

"Yeah of course I did. Is that all you think of me, sweetheart?"

There they were again. His dark brown doe eyes blinking at you all sweet, the purest form of Eddie he was willing to show you in this moment.

He was clearly letting you in. Showing himself to you. Letting you read his eyes, hoping you would take the hint which he secretly was yet too insecure to speak out.

He was the town's freak after all and getting his hopes up had never really turned out too positive for him. It had painfully taught him to better keep everyone at a distance.

It took every little ounce of willpower that you could find in yourself to not melt into a puddle, right there in that seat.

And if that wasn't enough already – him being thoughtful enough to think of you while devouring his own lunch – he pressed play on your walkman, before you could give him any sort of response to the fries situation.

The fact that the opening chords of Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears for Fears now filled your ears, your absolute favourite song, was sending you into another dimension.

How did he know your favourite fucking song? Did he ask Steve? He must have asked Steve.

He had asked Steve specifically about your music taste.

So many thoughts were flooding your brain at the same time, you were having trouble catching up.

The boy next to you just grinned at your visibly delighted reaction. And then he leaned in a little and you felt the heat once again rise to your cheeks.

"Is that good, that's a real good song, yeah?", you heard him ask, a very light sultry tone to his voice, after you quickly pushed one of your headphones behind your ear.

"Yes Eddie, immaculate choice right there", you praised him in a similar tone, before giving him a genuine giggle, unable to hide the way he was undeniably making you all flustered and earning another warm chuckle from him in return.

The way his cheeks turned into a beautiful shade of rose almost made your heart combust in your ribcage. At this point he was practically beaming with pride, reveling in the fact that he had elicited praise out of you. And it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

You lightly nudged your shoulder into his, which made him lift his arm, a gesture for you to lean into his figure.

"Come here, you."

That head of yours landed on his shoulder and you let him drape his arm over your torso like a seatbelt. A (still very) warm hand was placed between your waist and hip and you were pretty convinced it was going to burn a big hole right through the fabric of your shirt.

He just had to touch you, right?

His boldness however gave you enough of a confidence boost to return the gesture. At this point you needed to tell him, too. Make him feel the burn on his own skin. So you just hugged his arm, pulling it close and nuzzling the side of your face into the soft fabric of his hellfire shirt covering the skin between bicep and shoulder.

With every song you went on listening to, it became more clear than ever that Eddie Munson must really have gone all the way to Steve Harrington's house to ask him for a list of your favourite songs. Which he could then put on a mixtape. For you.

That's what you do for friends, right?

Yeah, right.

For a few songs you both just sat there in utter peace as you watched the landscape outside the window pass by. The wide plains of Wisconsin, fields of crops, forests, small gatherings of houses, farms, barns and horses and cows and sheep. The sky was slowly losing its light grey cover, which had you anticipating an actually nice sunset later.

He had leaned his head against yours, which made his warm breath trickle down the side of your neck down to your collarbone. And you had felt the goosebumps spread all over your arms underneath your longsleeve.

You were feeding off of the warmth radiating from Eddie's body once again, and the ringed hand on your waist had started rubbing up and down softly and slowly.

When Eddie felt you leaning more of your weight into his side, you could hear him let out a satisfied little sigh.

Every second of this part of your little road trip, whenever he tried to search for some form of physical closeness, felt like a fever dream.

And you didn't want to wake up just yet. How about never?

-----

Golden hour announced itself by coating the trees of the forest, the earthy paths for walking, the accumulation of dark wooden cabins and the water on the vast lake in gradients of yellow and orange.

Said lake would look more like the sea to you, it made little waves that were lightly crashing onto the shore of a small beach of a bay around which the camp was located, and it was so vast in fact that you were unable to see the opposing shore on the horizon.

You had just woken up from another nap which you had slipped into after one, two, you actually don't know how many hours of watching the endless fields and forests pass by through half-closed eyelids. Listening to The Romantics, New Order, Fleetwood Mac, The Cure, Genesis and of course Metallica, on Eddie's account.

Still surrounded by the warmth of his body, still tucked in between torso and arm. His hand however had sneakily breached an invisible barrier, now resting comfortably beneath the hem of your shirt on the skin of your waist. You didn't dare to check, but the hole in your shirt was certainly there now, burned through.

Even Ms Kelley's announcement of your arrival didn't bother any of you to move or shift positions. Or god forbid, separate your bodies.

You only slightly turned your head to watch Mr Clarke leave the bus in the corner of your eye, probably to head into the administration office of the camp with the intention to make your arrival known to the staff and to pick up keys for about 40 students.

From what they had told you pre-trip, you were gonna be sharing a cabin with Nancy, Robin and Max, since the plan foresaw keeping the middle schoolers separate from the older kids. And of course there couldn't be any cabins accommodating groups of mixed genders.

Which is precisely why Eddie was going to share his cabin with Jonathan, Steve and Dustin, while Lucas and Will had the honours to be joined in theirs by Gareth and Jeff.

Before letting you go to take the headphones off and gather all your things, Eddie's grip on your waist tightened a bit as he pulled you minimally closer for just two seconds, the vibration of his chest against your back telling you that he was humming softly.

You already missed him, and you hadn't even left the bus yet.

The structure of the camp was simple. There were ten cabins, each of them intended to accommodate up to four people comfortably. A row of them was spread out along the shore of the lake directly by the water. Another row spread out further towards the forest. Both separated by the same earthy pathway stretching and winding itself through the entire place, connecting the cabins to the rest of the camp. There were little houses with sanitary facilities not too far from the cabins, a little square with lots of seating opportunities intended for bonfires, barbecue and other gatherings, the office house, the beach further down the path past the cabins, and a pergola kinda situation with benches for mealtime and a corner with outdoor couches and further more cozy seating.

The cabin you were designated to spend your next 6 nights in was one of those directly by the water. Excitement spread through you at the thought of falling asleep to the peaceful sound of the lake water lightly hitting the shore at night and cicadas singing their songs after sunset. Frogs croaking and birds chirping away. The ambient background noise of a forest by the lake.

You had always been a dreamer.

"Top one's mine!", Robin exclaimed as she was the first one of you to enter, throwing her bag onto one of the top beds that were part of two bunks standing opposite of each other in each corner, a window with light beige and pastel floral curtains separating them.

You were loving the rustic atmosphere. The log aesthetic gave off the biggest summer cottage vibes, so taking in the interior of your small home for the next few days made you smile.

There were two closets with multiple drawers, enough space for accommodating clothing of four people.

The bag hanging from your shoulder landed on the bed below Robin's, while the other two silently agreed on Max above, Nancy on the same level as you.

The beds themselves were about the standard bunk bed size, nothing too fancy, but of course all wooden, fresh bedsheets folded into a neat pile along with a towel decorating the mattress.

While you were getting to making your bed (you knew that you'd thank yourself later), your mind started wondering if you could fit maybe even two people in there. For science, of course.

All of you had agreed to meet at the fireplace once everyone had dropped off their stuff, and when you and the girls arrived there, six pairs of eyes were already awaiting you.

The boys had probably just messily thrown their belongings onto their respective beds, not giving a flying fuck about pulling the covers over the duvets or maybe even taking power naps after the journey.

So yeah, night number one ended with all of you sitting by the fire that Mr Clarke and some guy from the staff team had set up. Conversations about everyone's most anticipated activities that were planned and scheduled for this week were held, your friends' former earth and science teacher telling stories about his first time field tripping back in the day.

Once again you were sat between Steve and Eddie, the metalhead's leather jacket around your shoulders, because he had insisted you'd take it. A sly grin on his face directed at you at the gesture, before turning his attention to the mutual best friend on your other side.

The younger kids had been tucked in by Ms Kelley already, since their curfew had been set to 9pm. Yours was at eleven.

You admired the multiple strings of fairy lights that had been hung into the lower maze of branches long ago, illuminating the earthy pathways throughout the whole camp to keep the kids from stumbling off into some bush or having to pull out flashlights.

At least until midnight, cause that's when the lights were going to be turned off.

-----

Your first full day at camp. The teachers had taken the whole group to a hike through the forest and up the hill at the end of the bay, overviewing the stunning scenery and you had taken a few moments away from everyone to take in the enormousness of the vision opening up in front of you.

Closing your eyes, you tried to wrap your head around the moment, taking a few deep breaths, feeling the freshness of the air surrounding you.

Slow down.

The sun made the deep blue of the sky reflect on the lake, a shimmer on the surface in the distance, sparse trees and bushes covering the top of the hill you were standing on, a bit separately from most kids.

The light brush of a hand against yours caused you to shoot open your eyes, jumping lightly at the sudden delicate yet profound touch.

"Uh, sorry I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I can also leave again if you want another moment to yourself?", you heard him say, an apologetic tone to his voice.

The rough facade now showed cracks.

Traces of softness, a great amount of empathy and hints of sensitivity were shining through them. He had always been a little more gentle with you than with everyone else in the group, but this telltale sign of trust he was instilling in you over the last hours? That was new.

So new. And so new to you.

Your head turned towards him, eyes squinting a bit because yeah, it was quite bright up there with almost no trees to throw shade, and of course clumsy you had forgotten your sunglasses on the little nightstand next to your bed.

"Eddie no, it's okay" was the only thing you managed to get out, brushing the back of his hand with the back of your index finger, in silent search for more contact, trying to support the words that had just come out of you.

It was just Eddie. You tried to remember Steve's words from lunch break yesterday. He's gonna be okay with adapting.

He turned his back on the sun, more towards you, and the light formed a halo around his head.

Given his reputation back in Hawkins, it looked hilariously absurd.

"Did you have a good first night?", you asked him then, in such a tone indicating your expectation of a sincere answer, while his shadow was covering half your face so you wouldn't have to stare into the late afternoon sun.

"More or less. You know how Steve snores", Eddie said before continuing his dramatic act, "plus, it was really lonely. I think there should be an additional paragraph in the law about an extension from bus seats to beds, you know? I think that would make a real difference and save me from eternal doom and misery."

He returned your previous gesture with his own index finger, his eyes finding yours, giving you a sheepish grin as your cheeks started imitating the colour of very ripe tomatoes.

Your entire body bloomed with electricity from just one light touch. If you didn't know any better, you'd say it was ridiculous.

Yes, there had already been touches that were way more direct than this, but there was something in the way and in the lightness of his touch now, that had your head spinning.

The lightness basically fuelled whatever this thing between the two of you was.

Ms Kelley's voice announcing the beginning of your descend ripped the both of you out of whatever moment you were having right there, and it sucked.

You could have stood there with him for the rest of eternity, if it meant being looked at by his warm, reassuring eyes, making you feel as if you were the center of the universe. It felt like his gaze was reaching the deepest corner of your soul.

And your brain started going 200 kilometers an hour, thinking about the allusion Eddie had just made. He was starting to consume your every thought at this point.

As a collective you managed to return to the deep green veils of the forest around an hour before sunset.

Slowly the day was coming to an end and since it had been a rather warm experience for everyone, the teachers had kindly granted you an evening dip in the lake.

High schoolers only though. Thank fuck.

Honestly, you probably would have gone for it anyway.

The beach included a small wooden pier leading into deeper water, which the boys delightedly acknowledged before using it to gracefully yeet themselves into the cold wet.

They also didn't deem it necessary to strip themselves of their clothes beforehand.

Too much enthusiasm and even more longing for relief from the day's heat and physical efforts. Who knew Michigan could be this warm already in May?

The girls and you had preferred to change into actual swimwear before joining the boys on the beach. A wise decision.

Because now you found yourself standing on the pier together with Nancy and Max, watching Robin follow Steve and dive in head first.

You were silently hoping the water was deep enough for her to not hit her head.

Next thing you saw approaching you on that pier was Eddie, dripping wet everything and soaked to the bone, some worn out jean shorts and dark blue Metallica shirt as well as his dark curls sticking to his skin like glue.

He left a trail of wet footsteps and sprinkles and splashes of water on the dry wood, grinning at you almost eerily and you threw him a similar glance back, because you knew he just wasn't anticipating your abilities to foresee the future when you jumped out of the way the second he started running towards you, trying to pull you into the water with him.

He landed face first, while everyone who had just witnessed that scene bursted into laughter, including you.

"You wish, Munson", you shouted at him and his poorly executed attempt once he had resurfaced, his appearance now reminding you of a wet poodle with his wet dark curls that were sticking to his reddened face, a piece of some green sweetwater plant decorating the top of his head.

You weren't ready to hit the water just yet, which is why Nancy and you decided to just plop down on the pier for a moment with crossed legs, while Max joined Robin and the boys.

Observing the scene happening in front of you, there were Dustin, Lucas and Jonathan, all of them fusioning their powers to swim after a screeching Will who was trying his best to escape being cruelly dunked by his brother and friends, Robin trying to stand on Steve's probably slippery shoulders while Eddie and Max were aiming for the same acrobatic performance.

Nancy next to you let out a chuckle at the sight before turning her head in your direction, "today was so nice, don't you think?"

With a nod you replied to her and leaned back on your arms behind you.

"Yeah it was beautiful! You just don't get those views in Hawkins."

"Yeah, absolutely not. The closest thing you're getting there is Lover's lake with a bunch of drunks fishing in their tiny boats, and that's about it", she paused, "are you in with us for the flower crowns tomorrow?"

Midsummer was still a few weeks away, but that didn't stop you from plucking and braiding.

You and the girls had been having this fantasy of spending this excessive amount of time in nature with flower crowns on your heads, inspired by Scandinavian summer solstice traditions. For weeks you all had been painting this picture in your conversations, anticipation bubbling up every time the topic came up. The picture of the four of you with the flowers of summer in your hair, in the deep green shades and distinct scent of the forest surrounding your every breath these days, had rented a big part of your mind, long before you had stepped on the bus, bringing you here.

"Hm? Oh yeah, definitely."

Losing yourself a little in the thought again, you hadn't yet taken notice of how two figures from the group of people in the water in front of you were missing.

You would learn soon, though.

Because before you knew it, a pair of strong, wet hands hooked themselves in the space of your armpits, lifting you up to stand, while another set of arms wasn't too shy to grab both your legs off the ground, wrapping themselves around your knees.

"Let's get you nice and wet, shall we?", you heard Steve's voice come out behind you in an absurdly husky tone, while–

"Time for your bath, princess!"

Eddie.

You were so taken by surprise, you couldn't even get anything in form of a verbal protest out.

The only thing you saw before your vision went black due to your reflexes was Eddie's mischievous grin between strands of his dark and wet curly mane, Steve's pearly whites being flashed at you equally prominent. Their laughter got muffled by the water invading your ear canals, and the sudden shock of the cold liquid surrounding every inch of your sun warmed skin was forcing a gasp out of your lungs.

When you returned to the surface, both of the boys held onto their bellies, high-fiving one another and still laughing on that pier like two fucking dipshits at you as well as at Nancy who apparently got to suffer the same fate as you, being dropped into the ocean mere seconds later.

With the back of your fingers you wiped the water out of your eyes along with strands of your hair that were clinging onto your cheeks for dear life, while you gathered back clear vision.

Unknowing to the two boys, Jonathan, Lucas and Dustin were currently in the process of sneaking up behind them. With big splashes both Eddie and Steve were forced to ungracefully breach the waves next to you, letting out equally surprised gasps for air before they had to instinctively hold their breaths.

You burst out into another laughing fit when the metalhead slowly appeared next to you just as soaked as half an hour ago, his hair now covering his entire face.

You took one stroke towards him while Jonathan and Dustin landed in the water not too far from you, shortly after being followed by Lucas and Max cannonballing their way in to join everyone.

The laughter and giggles filled the warm air, and you took both your hands to wipe Eddie's mane out of his face, just to reveal his brown chocolate orbs and a dorky smile, gazing at you from underneath.

The ground of the lake where you were finding yourself was close enough for you both to stand on, which made not sinking a lot easier.

"Thanks, sweetheart" was the only thing he brought out before putting a hand on your waist, pulling you closer before wrapping both his arms around your middle, while you responded by wrapping yours around his shoulders.

You thought he was going to bury his face in the crook of your neck with how close he was leaning in just now, connecting his lips to your skin, but all he really did was briefly running his nose over the side of your neck in an upwards motion. Giving you a little nudge while letting out another one of his hums.

It was almost like he wanted to do more than that, it was almost like you could feel him holding himself back. It was almost like you wanted him not to.

His warm breath hit the wet skin on your collarbone and it sent a slight shiver right through your system at the sheer thought of what exactly he was holding back.

And just when you felt him let go of you a bit more, you saw your chance at taking at least a little bit of revenge on him. For conspiring against you with Steve Harrington.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, found purchase on the ground, and your own weight forced him to go head below surface once again.

"Oh darling, that was an unwise decision", was all you heard before he returned the favour, his entire weight on yours as he drowned you beneath him, just before bringing one of his unnecessarily muscular arms around you to pull you back up again swiftly.

Soon after a few more dunks that you practised on Steve and Dustin, your swimming session came to an end when the sun had disappeared behind the trees and the sunset-ish colours of the horizon had faded into several shades of purple and blue.

After fresh showers that helped with rinsing off the lake water and smuck and sweat of the day, the older boys had decided to drop you off at the flower cabin, a nickname for your particular accommodation facility Lucas had come up with during the first bonfire.

To say goodnight or something.

Eddie held you in his grasp, pressed you into his chest for a second, letting you know that you meant something to him, shooting you one last glance, a hint of wistfulness in it, before disappearing surprisingly quickly into the dusk of the forest, towards the cabin he shared with the others.

You hugged Steve and Jonathan goodnight as well, the latter wearing a smirk on his face and you instantly wondered about the reason.

When you looked at your own pillow, you stopped wondering. A polaroid photo had been placed there for decoration, and you let yourself plop down on the mattress to inspect it more closely.

Jonathan had only recently started shooting polaroid in the first place, and the sun had delivered enough light for him to avoid using flash for this one, which had the colours of everything come out more natural.

The photo showed Eddie in his bus seat. You in yours, resting with his arm wrapped around you, his head on yours, both with your headphones on, both passed out. Steve, Dustin, Will and Robin behind you with widened eyes, tongues out and peace signs up.

Unable to hide the smile that spread on your face, you placed the photo on the little nightstand accompanying the bed.

Everyone knew. You knew. Eddie probably knew. But who would say it first?

-----

taglist: @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @spellbounddd, @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint, @mystars123, @gothmingguk, @kennafild, @chloe-6123, @michaelfuckinglangdon and @bakugouswh0r3

#eddie munson x reader #the law of seat partners #part 3 everyone wow #eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fluff #please be kind #and reblog #and let me know your thoughts #pls #this was a wild ride and took me a lot of nerves #nora writes

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bleedingichorhearts · 2 months

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𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝕲𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖝𝖞

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Had this type of scenario going around in my head.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, both advise me if not wanting to be tagged here. I don’t remember.😭

𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: I’m new to this lore, and learning on my way of writing this. I think I just have some basics down. This is also not a… logical story. This, in no way, fits into the Warhammer 30k or 40k universe. This is purely just for enjoyment. Not proofread.

The Suberb Cathedral of Cologne | Their structures look like this right?

TW // None, I think.

To discover a new dimension was… interesting to say the least.

The new dimension. The new world was- is structurally prettier than our modern world. They have built grand structures that would have “The Suberb Cathedral of Cologne” be minuscule next to them. Their structures much stronger, taller, and wider. Covering acres of the land. The land they called “Terra.”

Which was a similar name to “Earth.” Just in Latin, in our world. A similar planet too, that was just more… advanced and polluted than anything. They also called their moon “Luna.” Which was named almost as regular as anything else besides the hulking, men in armor.

Those were interesting beings. They were taller, enhanced, and thickly armored human beings that called themselves “The Adeptus Astartes.” Or in other words a “Space Marine.”

The “Adeptus Custodes” were the first ones I've met. It wasn’t a peaceful meeting either. How could it be? I was sent through an unbelievable portal, not expecting to visit some huge, gold ridden throne room. I'm sure they weren't expecting it as well with how their spear-like weapons surrounded the two people I came in with like a flash. Their towering golden armor casting a shadow over every form. Leaving no chance to escape.

Not like anyone could. It was clear of how much power these Custodes held just by looking at them. Feeling how the area shifted with a more dangerous one, and one of the stupid people tested that theory, booking it when they thought they had an chance, but got quickly picked up by the collar of their shirt like a kicked puppy. It didn’t even look like an effort was made to do so. The Custodes just seemed more annoyed than anything.

Furthermore, for one of those reasons. These Custodes moved, more like shoved the whole group into a cell block so far down into the structure that it had the other person whining about how their feet hurt.

The custodes didn’t say nothing while they closed us into a cell. Putting “The ShadowKeeper” on duty to watch the cell. Which I think is a specific type of Custodes for this job. Concluding how the guy just stood there up for hours and had to listen to the many, many, many complaints of the two people in the cell with me. I don’t even know all of the people well, except for the girl.

She was someone I was quietly extracting from point A to point B. Nothing hard to do besides her constant whining and her “heroic” boyfriend that was trying saving her from me. I honestly was about to put a bullet in the guy's head for disrupting my work until that portal showed up, throwing all of us in there. I might have done her father something good for doing so though. She was not allowed to be around “men” at all anyways. It was stated in the contract.

Though, I was lucky enough that I was not fully dressed up in gear to be presented to this new world that could have been more hostile for all I know. Could have sliced me into two right there in that thrown room in seconds if I had my gear on, but they didn’t and I don’t know if that was the better alternative or not, but it usually wasn’t.

Nevertheless, the days in that cell passed like a dream where the only parts you got were the unimportant ones. The whiny duo wouldn’t stop begging at the Shadowkeeper to let them out, or at least give them a shrivel of attention. The boyfriend of the girl wouldn’t stop trying to fight me, and the two would eat the food given to us by Custodes that I wouldn’t dare to eat, and still wouldn't dare to eat after the other two scavenged my serving like they hadn't eaten the day before. Something the ShadowKeeper notified his superiors about. I know they did, it was a warden's job.

That’s how the cell was visited by their leader, this man, this deity? I not to sure what he was, but his golden eyes swept across the cell, scanning it before landing on my own figure sitting crisscrossed on the stone cold cell floor, his eyes never once leave my own. His towering form overthrowing the Custodies with amazing ease. It left the other two in the cell shocked, just how big was everything in this world?

It was almost freakish in a way. His intimidating gaze felt like a heatwave to be underneath. Pulsing into my skin to see the sins beneath. To boil me alive from inside and out. It was wired. Never was there ever a person to feel like they were crawling under my skin, but this wasn’t a person was it? This man…thing was something else.

When he spoke, he sounded calm, and gravelly, but judging how the other two looked like they swooned over him, like he spoke honeyed words to them, I couldn’t be so sure of that. Were they hearing something different than I was?

Sudden whispers attacked my hearing as I looked away from the… man. Seeing the portal was summoned from out of nowhere. It's swirling vortex calling me in. The relief of not having to look at the intimating man coming off my shoulders.

Standing up from the floor, I looked back at the man dawned in gold for a second more. Questioning if it was he that controlled these portals or not. It wouldn't be unusual for a man in his stature to do something impossible like that considering that he was about the size of a two story building.

I’d expect them to rush into the cell and try to deprive me of going back to wherever this portal might take me, but they didn’t, they held back. The man’s golden gauntlet stoping the Shadowkeeper from proceeding any further. Does this mean he knows something I don’t?

Perhaps, he knew that I would come back again. Not purposely, of course.

It was almost nearly undeniable to reject the portal. It whispers to you, it’s unintelligible words calling you in like some sort of chant. Even if you did reject its whispers, it would forcefully pull you through by an unknown force.

That happened on my umpteenth time coming back to the world. I was too busy trying to get stuff done within my world, I got sucked into the portal.

Moreover, within these questionable timings of the portal. It became a regular thing in their world as the portal put me in the same place before, the throne room. There was always an Custodes posted there to await my untimely arrival. Ready to escort me throughout the maze of the structure, or if ordered, to my own “personal quarters.”

That wasn’t something I particularly liked at first.

Sure, it was nice to have a personal bodyguard. To have my own luxurious room decorated with softest, silkiest sheets I have ever touched in my life, but it wasn’t what I was used to. It wasn’t my lifestyle. It was different, unfathomable; shouldn’t be happening.

Non of this should be happening.

I shouldn’t be in the world of gods, and demigods. I shouldn’t be even meeting with them sharing the same ground as them and it wasn’t out of their divinity, but it was because I don’t belong here. This wasn’t my world. It wasn’t my universe.

This whole thing… just wasn’t right, but who to say anything to practical gods? Who’s to say anything against a cursed portal?

Not that “heroic” boyfriend. His blood stains the ground of the cell for… talking too much.

#warhammer 40k #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #snippet #introduction #Yandere? Yandere.#the emperor of mankind #adeptus custodes #and more

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safety-writes-noms · 2 months

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Blank Eyes

Summary; Miguel and you are separated after a mission gone wrong. You go looking for him… only to find him in an odd state.

This is a short story with vore in it!! It is sfw and nonsexual so if you don’t like that, don’t read!

Tw; there’s some fear play in this one but still all safe. There’s also some descriptions of blood and violence :D

—

The first thing you register is the crushing pressure over your chest, Your head is spinning and aching with a fury, sharp pain lancing down your side every time you try to breathe. Your hands scrabble at the hard edge of the thing holding you down, finding purchase and pushing.

Your arms tremble and your palms are tacky with blood – but you manage to shift the massive slab of concrete off of your body, and roll out from under. The second you let go, the thing crashes into the ground with a massive plume of dust.

For a moment, you have no idea where you are and how you got here before your memory revives itself with a sickening flash. The mission. The explosion. The shadow falling over you as debris rained down from above, the sickening jolt of pain – then darkness.

Your ribs have to be at least fractured judging by the ache nestled in your chest, you definitely have a bad sprain in your left ankle, and overall, you feel like all of your body is just one massive bruise. Everything hurts like hell, and you take a second to catch your breath and prepare yourself.

“Okay – okay, come on,” You mutter, taking a fortifying breath, “You’ve got this – you totally got this.”

You delicately push yourself upwards, ignoring the concerning tightness in your chest accompanied by aching agony, struggling to your feet with difficulty. Your ribs practically sear with pain at the movement and you pray that they're not broken.

You check your wrist, wincing at the cracked watch strapped over it — when you try to turn it on, it fizzles pathetically before the screen goes dark with only occasional glitches of light. Still, you should at least try to get a message out.

“Hello? Uh. Can anyone hear me?” You ask, fiddling with the dial on the side of the watch as you try to get out a signal. The dial promptly pops off the damn watch and clicks as it bounces on concrete, disappearing into the debris coating the ground. You gape in disbelief. Miguel is totally going to give you shit for that.

Miguel.

He was closer to the explosion — there’s no way he didn’t get buried under the rubble too or at least somewhat injured. Something cold and frigid burns into your organs and you look around, searching for a glimmer of neon red or dark blue. It’s too dark in the partially crumbled parking lot to see much. It’s massive, compared to you and you silently curse this dimension’s — well, dimensions. It just had to be one of those giant ones, didn’t it?

Either way, you decide to look at the bright side: You’re not dead (yet). Hooray! And Miguel is too stubborn to die too, you reassure yourself. There’s no way he’d kick the bucket from a measly bomb.

You limp along, carefully stepping around bits of debris and rubble littering the floor, waving away the thick dust permeating the air. You’re thankful that this area is abandoned — you don’t need civvies to make things harder.

“Miguel? Boss? You there?” You call out, cupping a hand to your mouth. No answer. You frown. He has to be here somewhere. You duck around humongous support pillars holding up what’s left of the second, third, and other floors up above. There isn’t much, but there’s still some.

You scout out the bottom floor, finding nothing but more cracked infrastructure. It takes you a while with your injured ankle and throbbing abdomen, but you manage it, coming up disappointingly fruitless. How does one lose a 6’9 man with shoulders the length of a football field? Easily, you find out with annoyance.

He’s wearing a neon suit brighter than Las Vegas. It really shouldn’t be this hard but it is.

However, you do find traces of bright crimson webbing, strung up messily. Erratically. Normally, Miguel is knife-precise with his webbing but you’re more focused on the fact that you found traces of him to really think about that. You also find deep claw marks from where he had probably dug himself out of. Awesome. That means he’s not collapsed in a pool of his own blood somewhere. All good signs.

Unfortunately, as you follow the trail of webbing up, he’s climbed up to the second floor and is somewhere up there in the ruins. Is he looking for you? You had been on the second floor when the explosion went off initially, only to be knocked all the way down. That’s a little weird — you thought he would’ve taken a more methodical approach of searching all of floor one before moving on, but you dismiss it.

Half the time, you have no idea what he’s doing anyways. It’s probably not that important, and you now have a cookie crumb trail leading you straight to the big boss himself. You plaster your palms to one of the support beams, hissing in pain as the scraped skin meets cool concrete, but you force yourself to climb anyways. Your hands ache, and you’re going at the pace of a snail, but at long last you manage to make it up there with some help from your webs.

From there, you just follow the geometrical lines of Miguel’s webs, rounding corners and avoiding chunks of concrete and various pieces of rubble. It’s darker here, and the only sources of light are the neon webs glowing dimly from where they’re splattered randomly upon surfaces.

Your healing factor must’ve kicked in by now, since the pain in your ankle is lessening — if not incredibly slowly. You’re able to put a tiny bit more pressure on it as you walk on, periodically calling out for Miguel.

There’s no answer.

You don’t let it get to you. And you do find Miguel, once you slip under a fallen pillar and see — a massive figure hunched over in a corner, suspended in a nest of crimson webbing. You mutter a curse, squinting up at him. He’s not moving and other than the occasional rattling hiss of breath, it’s utterly silent. You find your heart starting to constrict on itself. A fear response. Why? Miguel isn’t a threat. He’s fine.

Why do you feel like this? There’s an impending sense of danger shrieking in your head but maybe your senses are just .. off. You swallow a bit nervously before clearing your throat loudly.

“Miguel! I’ve been looking for you — you okay?” You ask, forcing your irrational fear down. He moves then, his huge frame tensing as he turns around, his eyes eerily blank. Jeez, his pupils are massive and his hair is all messy, errant strands flicking in front of his face as he stares down at you. “Hey, big guy.” You try for a smile, ignoring the way your voice goes high at the end.

He clambers down from the web slowly on all fours, his eyes completely fixed on you and nothing else. He’s moving pretty gingerly and you spot a couple of lacerations and possibly some broken bones as he moves. Not the best, but you’re mainly just glad he’s fine. Miguel’s nostrils flare, and he opens his mouth slightly, inhaling slowly. He’s acting weird. Really freaking weird.

“Miguel? What’s up with you?” You retreat a step. He advances a step, and you can see him bare fangs, the sharp points glimmering in the dark.

That’s your only warning before he lunges, his huge body moving scarily quick as you throw yourself to the side, narrowly missing the outstretched talons. Your pulse is thrumming in your ears as you gasp, eyes wide as saucers.

“Miguel — its me! Miguel —!” You shout, only to be cut off as he lowers himself to the ground again, reminiscent of a hunter’s crouch. You can’t see anything but Miguel’s eyes and you can’t quite strangle the scream of fear as one gigantic hand reaches out lightning quick and wraps around you. His talons retreat back into the pads of his fingers, and while his hold is surprisingly gentle, you’re still completely unnerved by the way he’s acting. You stay completely still as he raises you up to his face — and he inhales.

His brows twitch into a frown and he sits back on his haunches, using his other hand to carefully examine your hands, his eyes tracking over all the various bruises and scrapes spread over your body. The frown only deepens when he glances at your ankle. He’s still being oddly silent, and while you’re grateful he’s not being hostile, you still have no idea what’s going on. He tilts his head. Examining you with laser sharp focus.

Then he opens his mouth — and you freeze up as you stare down the dimly illuminated maw, the plush flesh shifting and dimly, you realize you’re being lowered down toward the abyss. Saliva pools inside Miguel’s mouth in preparation and the warmth of his breath washes over you. For a second, you can imagine it. The sensation of slime soaked into your body, the visceral click of teeth sealing you away, the suffocating vice of being squeezed down that powerful throat, never to be seen again — no.

You refuse. This isn’t how it ends. It can’t be.

You snap out of your daze and throw out a massive amount of web, hitting him square in the eyes with a panicked flurry. Miguel jolts back with a loud snarl immediately, dropping you to tear at the thick coating over his vision, talons sinking into the web viciously.

You can’t help but scream as you land on your ankle with a sickening crack— holy fucking goddamn shiiit, if it wasn’t broken before, it definitely is now. You glance up at Miguel — still trying to take off the thick webbing — and hobble away, dragging yourself with heaving breaths. Farther, faster.

You have to breathe through the stars burning across your vision as you search for something to help. Anything. You used the last of the webbing in your canisters on blinding Miguel so now, it’s just you. Everything is hurting and you can barely see straight as you get as far as you can and crawl into a tiny hole barely big enough for your body, a shelter made from rubble and concrete. It’s tight and cramped and you can’t stop your chest from heaving. Tears of pain squeeze out of your eyes and you press a hand over your mouth to muffle any pained sounds that could escape.

There’s a loud ripping sound as Miguel finally tears off the makeshift blindfold with a roar, and you press yourself back against the walls bracketing you in. He’s gone insane. He’s actually crazy. You stifle a hysterical sort of giggle. How the hell is this your fucking life?

There’s a quiet snuffling sound and your blood runs cold as you realize he’s following your scent trail. Plus there’s no way you didn’t leave an incriminating trail of crimson with how you’re injured — he’ll find you. There’s no doubt about it.

Footsteps, nearly silent, pace closer and you hold your breath, willing your heart to stop beating so loud. This is utterly terrifying. Everything is quiet for a moment. You don’t dare make a single sound, and you can’t tell what Miguel is doing at all.

For a moment, you hope that he’s lost interest and moved on. Maybe he’s looking somewhere else. Maybe he’s decided you aren’t worth it as a meal. You pray and you hope against hope. It’s quickly dashed as one bright crimson eye fills your vision as Miguel peers in through the hole, his pupils completely dilated, leaving only a faint ring of red.

You scream as talons pry off the top part of your shelter with apparent ease, stabbing through concrete like butter. You’re too scared to move as his hand shoots out and captures you again. This time he looks distinctly grumpy with you, brows furrowed and mouth set into a down turned line.

He sniffs at you again, somehow looking even more disapproving when he gets to your ankle again, glaring at you like it’s your fault. You can’t help but take mild offense to that.

Miguel delicately plucks off your web shooters and discards them which — hey! Those aren’t cheap to make — before wasting no time and opening his mouth. You barely have time to blink before you’re eased inside his maw carefully, spit immediately covering you in a thick sheen. You splutter, wiping the thick fluid off of your face as warmth soaks you to the bone. His tongue shifts under you only a small amount, only flicking to drench more parts of you in saliva. Miguel makes a satisfied hum, the sound vibrating through your body as he takes you completely into his maw.

Oddly enough, he keeps you far away from any of his pearly incisors, only deciding to make sure you’re covered in slick spit. Once he’s determined you’re ready, he swallows once, dragging your feet toward the yawning abyss of his hungry, twitching throat.

You shriek, trying to cling onto anything as another loud swallow gets you down his throat from your chest down. Your hands grab at his uvula, holding on as tight as you can as you desperately try not to disappear down his ravenous gullet.

Miguel makes an annoyed sound, then you feel everything tighten around your body as he swallows forcefully and your grip on his dangling uvula is lost. You squeeze your eyes shut as he swallows one more time, sending you down his throat — not nearly as crushing as you had imagined, and letting you pool into a more spacious area.

The inside of here is soft and extremely squishy. When you try to brace a hand against the ground, it just sinks into the flesh, plush and malleable. You’re in a shallow puddle of fluid — saliva? Acid? — and while it doesn’t burn, it coats everything. Including you, and you swear, this is the weirdest thing you’ve ever experienced. There’s still fear burning through your veins, and you can’t stop yourself from trembling.

But fuck, you’re so exhausted and it’s so warm here. While the fluid is uncomfortable, it’s nothing against your acute tiredness and you can’t stop yourself from just sinking into the cushy, gurgling walls.

Miguel purrs quietly from outside, retreating back to the web-nest he had created earlier, seemingly satisfied with the little weight inside his gut. He curls up, ignoring the lancing pain from his wounds. He’ll have to explain a whole lot of shit once he returns from this instinctual state but for now, he’s content to curl up, secure and safe.

In the back of his mind, he can register something vaguely sounding like the completely freaked out human side of his brain shrieking it’s head off, but it’s so inconsequential that he finds himself blocking it out lazily. Something about not eating his subordinates…?

Eh. He’ll figure it out when the rest of the spiders come to pick them up. He places a hand over his stomach, massaging it idly.

—

@diningopossum

#safe vore #soft vore #extreme cuddling #sfw vore #nonsexual vore #nonfetish vore #Sw writes fics #s: spidervores #spidervore #spidervores

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