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fanficsformyfaves · 9 months ago

Text

Or What?

Rhea Ripley x Uso Sister!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Enemies To Lovers, Confessions, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Nicknames, Oral Sex (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Orgasm Denial (R Receiving), Degradation and Praise Kink (R Receiving), Mommy Kink, Choking Kink (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Choking (R Receiving)

PREFACE: Reader has always known Rhea to be arrogant, callous and mean, so it only made sense that she despised the eradicator, especially after what she did to her brother...but what happens when they find themselves in a broom closet alone together?

A/N: Jey and Rhea are feuding in this A/U

Announcer's Dialogue In Bold and Colored!

Texts in Italic, Colored and Bold!

As I waited for Jey to finish up his match, I hear the sound of boot heels clicking from down the hall and when I turn my head to see who it was, I was immediately vexed.

Rhea fucking Ripley.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. She was easily the most smug-faced asshole I'd ever met and not only that, she had the audacity to make my brother look stupid in front of the entire world.

I stuff my phone into my back pocket, before crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well, if it isn't little (Y/N) Uso. What's a cute thing like you doing out here by yourself?", she teased.

I simply looked away, ignoring her comment.

"Hm, never took you for the shy type", she said,

Taking a step closer towards me.

"From what I've seen, you're quiet the firecracker", she brushes a hair from my face.

I grab her wrist, staring daggers into her eyes.

"Never...touch me"

She lets out a dark chuckle, using the grip I had on her to yank me closer. Our faces were now merely inches apart.

"Or what, princess?"

"Or...I'll..."

"Mhm, use your words", she whispered,

Leaning down closer to the point her breath brushed against my bottom lip.

What was happening? And why was I not pulling away? I should've...but I just couldn't.

Just as I was desperately trying to regain my composure, the crowd outside goes wild and the speakers go off.

Announcer: And here is your winner...Jey...USOOO!

My brother's theme song began playing and I knew he was just moments away from bursting through the doors.

Shit, if he sees me causing trouble, I'm gonna be in for it. I could already hear him and some guards just around the corner. With seemingly no other option, I push Rhea and myself into the closet directly behind her and close it shut.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving both of our asses", I whispered,

Stepping away from the door. The footsteps were getting closer with each passing second and my heart was pounding so hard, I could barely breathe.

As if getting caught in the hallways wouldn't have been bad enough, I could only imagine what would happen if Jey found us in a literal closet together.

The shadow of his feet stop right in front of the door and I was panicking like I never have before.

"Have y'all seen (Y/N)? She said she'd be waiting right here"

"No, sir, not since before the match started"

"Hm", he hummed dismissively,

Before carrying on towards his dressing room.

Once he was finally gone, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Jesus, that was close"

"You're telling me", she replied.

That's when I finally noticed her towering figure hunched over behind me, with an arm around my waist and her hand flat on my stomach.

I turn to face her and there we were again.

Her lips almost meeting mine, as our eyes found one another in a tense exchange. I couldn't comprehend much of anything that was happening, but mostly, I was confused at why I wasn't pulling away again.

She humiliated my brother and betrayed him. I had every right to hate her...right?

"You know", she breaks the silence,

"You're awfully adorable, when you aren't staring daggers into me"

There was that stupid smirk again, only this time it affected me differently.

Instead of becoming agitated, I felt a second heartbeat I didn't feel before. Every inch of my skin was overheating at her touch and she knew it.

"Oh...you like this, don't you?"

"What? No-"

"Such a cliche, falling for your brother's enemy"

"I don't-"

"Then how come you aren't shoving me away and telling me to fuck off like you usually do?", she questioned,

Gently turning my body to fully face her, before pinning me to the wall by my arms.

"I think we both know the answer to that question, darling", she whispered,

Ducking her head down on my shoulder, whilst trailing kisses up my neck.

"Just say it. Say you want me and put a rest to this tiring act of pretending like you don't"

Was she right?

Have I just been in denial about the attraction I felt for her and hid behind anger all this time?

I couldn't quite focus on finding a proper explanation, as she reached the lobe of my ear, nibbling on it and forcing a whine out of me.

"God, even the sounds you make are sweet. Wonder if you'll taste as sweet as you sound", she mumbled against me,

Running her hand up my thigh.

"R-Rhea"

"All you have to do is tell me to stop and I will. Is that what you want?"

I contemplated for a moment. This was wrong. Getting involved with someone like her would only ever end in chaos, especially with the bad blood she had with Jey...but in that moment, any voice of reason was no match for the way she was touching me.

"No", I ultimately answered.

"Good"

Not wanting to waste any more of the limited time we had, she finally presses her lips against mine.

They were soft and gentle, which surprised me the most.

One of her hands let off my waist and trailed up my skirt, brushing against my bundle of nerves through the underwear I had on.

I whined against her mouth, which curled up into an excited grin.

"Sensitive, are you? Let's see how long it takes till I have you cumming on my tongue"

Just then, she drops to her knees, flipping up my skirt to take a good look at the mess she was already making of me.

"God, I barely touched you yet", she mocked,

Before pulling my thong to the side and licking up my slick entrance.

"Mmm, so fucking sweet", she praised,

Throwing my thighs over her strong shoulders, so I was sat on top of her. It didn't take long for her lips to wrap around my bundle of nerves, as the grasp she had on my hips tightened with each passing lick.

I intertwined my fingers in her hair, whilst her name repeatedly spilled out of me like a prayer that would never be answered.

Eventually, I feel the tip of two digits press against my slit, before slipping themselves completely inside me with no resistance to stop them.

Her momentum immediately fast and relentless.

Already, the knot in the pit of my stomach began to tighten and threaten to snap. I could tell by the way she smirked over my clit that she knew it too.

"Not so tough when I have you at my mercy, are you? Maybe I shouldn't let you cum", she teased,

"No! Please, don't stop!", I pleaded,

"Good girl", she says,

Continuing her unletting efforts to bring me over the edge, but before she could, voices on the other side of the door interrupts us.

I immediately let out a gasp, causing Rhea to slap a hand over my mouth.

"Jey's looking for (Y/N)"

"Wasn't she just here earlier?"

"Yeah, but I don't know where she went"

The security guards eventually move past the closet and I let out a sigh of relief.

I get off of her, arranging my skirt and she eyes me up in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"This was a mistake"

She scoffs, getting up and dusting her knees.

"You didn't seem to think this was a 'mistake' when my tongue was wearing you out", she tested,

Pushing my head up with a hooked finger.

"Now...what did you say about me never touching you again?"

I roll my eyes and push her hand away.

"Wait five minutes before I leave", I instructed,

"Whatever you say", she smiled,

Looking down at her feet.

I carefully opened the door, whilst peaking my head out to make sure the coast was clear and once it was, I step out and close it, when I turn back around and was ambushed by my brother.

"Fucking Christ, dude!", I exclaimed,

As my hand went over my chest.

"Aye, language", he warned,

"Sorry"

"Where were you? I've been looking for like twenty minutes"

"The...bathroom"

"For twenty minutes?"

"Yo, what's with the interrogation, dawg? Woman business", I snapped,

"Alright, alright. I was just asking", he throws his hands up in surrender,

"I wanna grab food on the way back, come on", he says,

Putting an arm over my shoulder and walking me out. I quickly glance back at the closet door and prayed it stayed closed till we were out of sight.

Once we got into the car, I was finally left to my thoughts.

The guilt that overwhelmed me was all consuming and burdensome. I had just slept with my brother's nemesis. The person he hated most and here I was, pretending like it didn't happen, as he went on and on about his current win.

In that moment, I get a notification on my phone and I go to see who it was. I didn't recognize the number, but once I saw the text, I knew immediately.

Unknown Number: We should talk about this

Me: There's nothing to talk about

Unknown Number: Oh please, spare me, are you really going back to being in denial?

Me: Denial about what?

Unknown Number: Whatever

Unknown Number: But, when you do come to your senses, you know where to find me, beautiful ;)

I lock my phone and shove it inside my purse with a sigh.

"You good?"

"Yeah, just tired"

"Well, you look tired", he says,

Mimicking the sweat dripping down my face, causing me to hastily swipe it off.

After stopping by at a pizza place for dinner, we head to the hotel and made our way back to the suite.

"That was scrumptious. We needa head back before going home", Jey emphasized,

Opening the door and letting the both of us inside.

"I call the shower first"

"Dude", I go to argue,

"Ah! Winners get special privileges", he mocked.

I roll my eyes and he chuckles at my response, before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I lay back against the bed by the window and looked over the entire city.

As breathtaking as the sight was to behold, I was still hung up on Rhea. Why? Why her? Of all the people I could've hooked up with, it had to be fucking Ripley?

As disappointed as I was with myself, I couldn't help but look back at the encounter with a certain sense of reverie.

I'd never been touched like that.

None of the people I'd been with before had ever gotten me that close...I wonder what would've happened if I had just stayed there in that closet with her.

Before I could delve any deeper into my thoughts, I hear my phone go off once again and I already knew who it could be.

Unknown Number: Can't stop thinking about you, precious

God damn it, again with the nicknames.

Me: Rhea, please

Unknown Number: Please what?

Me: We can't do this

Unknown Number: Oh yes, we can

Unknown Number: The only person saying we can't is you

Me: You hurt my brother

Unknown: Hey, he decided to attack Dom, I couldn't just sit idle and let him

Me: Yeah, after the fact he slammed Jimmy with a chair

Unknown: Listen, I have no control over what the boys do

Unknown Number: Nor do I have control over who I want

A frigid chill run up my spine.

Unknown Number: What happened wasn't ideal, I get it

Unknown Number: So allow me make it up to you

Me: How?

Unknown Number: By picking up where we left off of course

Unknown Number: When I had you on the brink of cumming, before we were so rudely interrupted

It was getting harder and harder to resist her tempting.

Me: This is wrong

Unknown Number: Did it feel wrong? When you were begging me to make you unravel on my mouth?

Me: Rhea

Unknown Number: Tell me, when did the regret set in? Was it before or after my fingers found themselves inside you?

The pulsing sensation in my center began to intensify with every text she sent.

Unknown Number: You can lie to yourself all you want, darling

Unknown Number: But we both know that you want me just as much as I want you. I'm just making it easier by admitting it first

Unknown Number: Ball's in your court now, Uso

It took all the strength I had to resist, but it still wasn't enough. I ultimately caved, needing to feel her against me again.

Me: Where are you?

I just knew she was grinning like a wildcat on the other side of the phone.

Unknown Number: Location📍

The hotel she was staying at was only ten minutes away.

Me: Room?

Unknown Number: I'll be in the lobby to let you up. See you, beautiful ;)

I facepalm my forehead.

What was I doing? Once could've been a mistake, but twice? Now, this was betrayal.

Jey steps out of the bathroom, drying off his hair.

"Shower's free"

"Actually, I gotta go. Naomi wants to have a girl's night"

"For real?"

"Mhm", I hesitated,

He contemplates for a moment, before shrugging.

"Aight, just text me when you get there"

I let out a sigh of relief, before grabbing my phone and leaving.

Besides the obvious thoughts going through my head, all I could think about was how conflicted I felt. On one hand, family meant the world to me and out of all of them, Jey was who I was closest with...but on the other hand, there was Rhea. I didn't know what could transpire from this, but I guess I was just gonna have to find out.

Eventually, I got to her hotel and tried my best to avoid any paparazzi by keeping my head down and speed-walking into the lobby. I allow myself a moment to scan the room, before my eyes finally landed on her.

She was sat on one of the couches with elbows resting on her knees and scrolling through her phone.

With one last deep breath, I made my way towards her.

"Hello, there", she grinned,

Looking up at me, as she stood up.

"Hi", I greeted,

Avoiding her piercing gaze.

"I appreciate eye-contact, whilst speaking", she says,

Using my cheek to make me face her. I was already melting into her touch and blushing a bright red hue.

"D'you enjoy the ride?", she questioned,

Causing my eyes to widen.

"The car ride, darling", she teased,

She knew what she was doing.

"How about we get you upstairs?", she suggests.

I nod, as she took my hand and lead me to the elevators.

Once we were inside and the doors close us in, she pushes my hair aside and ducked her head into the crook of my neck, leaving wet kisses lingering on my skin.

"Couldn't stop thinking about earlier. I've never tasted anything better", she murmured,

Gripping my waist.

"R-Rhea", I whined,

Holding onto her shoulders. If the elevator doors hadn't opened just then, we would've had our way with each other right there. We rush towards her room and she uses my body to slam the door shut.

My hands creeping up into her hair, as her teeth tugged on my bottom lip.

I pull my sweater over my head, leaving me exposed to the cool air.

"Goodness", she exhaled,

Cupping the bottom of my breasts and licking my hardening buds. My skin was ablaze and my jaw drops with every moan that fell past my lips.

I go to pull my skirt down, when she stops me by my wrists.

"The skirt stays on"

Fuck, was I dripping.

"But...these need to go"

She reaches up and hooks her fingers around my waistband, yanking my underwear off and helping me out of them.

"I've already gotten a taste, now I need the whole show", she says,

Undoing the buttons of her jeans and revealing the toy already strapped around her waist. My eyes widen and she chuckles at my reaction.

"Like what you see, princess?"

"Y-Yes"

She bites back a smile and carried me to bed, before laying me out against the soft comforter.

"You're such a good girl when you aren't running your mouth", she praised,

Shoving her thumb into it, as I gladly accepted.

She then pulls it away and pressed it against my clit. A gasp rips out of me and my legs clench together, to which she pushes them apart and keeps them in place with her broad shoulders.

"Don't try escaping me now, you wanted this"

As she began rubbing firm circles on my bundle of nerves, my core dripped onto her ready palm.

"You are such an easy brat. All those time of you screaming at me, when you should've been screaming for me. All I had to do was put you in your place", she mocked over my moans.

Eventually, she pulled away and left me whining at the loss of contact.

"Patience"

She trips herself of her pants and tank top and the sight before me was something straight out of my wildest dreams. From her ample breasts, perfect waist and the sweat collecting on her fair skin, I was growing more and more desperate.

"As much as I love seeing you gawk at me, I think we should switch gears"

With one swift motion, she flips me onto my stomach and drags my ass into the air by my hips.

"This ass, babe. God", she mumbles,

Leaning down to place a gentle kiss on one cheek, before biting down hard and smacking the other.

I scream out, gripping the sheets.

Just then, I feel her rubbing the tip of the toy up and down my entrance, furthering the torture.

"How badly do you want this?"

"Please, I need you", I whined,

"Oh...you need this, huh? Think you've earned it?", she challenged,

Yanking me up against her by my throat, squeezing tight.

"Y-Yes, Mami, please!"

With one more wicked grin, she fills me to the hilt. The stretch burning, as I cried out into the air.

Her pace was immediately brutal and relentless, like the grip she had on my neck.

"Such a precious little thing", she praised,

Pounding repeatedly on my g-spot and causing stars to cloud my vision.

She'd been teasing me since the night began, so it should've come as no surprise to me when my walls had already begun pulsing around her.

"So good for me. So fucking good", she growled against my ear.

"I'm gonna cum, Mami, please!"

"Not till I say so"

"Please!"

"Keep whining and I'll make you wait even longer", she threatened.

Not wanting to face those consequences, I bite my tongue and held onto her hips for dear life, digging my nails into her flesh.

By this time, the room was nothing, but the smell of sex, sweat and tear-filled moans. The orgasm that I'd been chasing was now hounding me down and threatening to overwhelm me. It was getting harder to fight it off with each of her harsh thrusts.

I was just surprised we didn't get a noise complaint.

Once she was satisfied with how weak she had me, her hands reaches for my clit once more.

"You look so good this way. Fucked out and drenched in sweat and tears for me. Cum for me, darling. Show mami just how good she makes you feel"

That was the last thing I could make out, when the knot in my stomach finally snapped and pushed me over the edge.

All I could see was a rush of pure white, before falling limp on my stomach, out of breath and gasping for any air my lungs would allow.

She then pulls out of me and discards the toy from her hips. I was then picked up and placed delicately onto her bare chest.

"You did so good, darling", she muttered sweetly,

Wrapping her arms around me and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Maybe...this wasn't such a bad idea.

I snuggled deeper into her embrace and she welcomed me in with a satisfied chuckle.

"Who knew beneath all that cold exterior was a soft little angel?", she jested,

Making me roll my eyes.

"I'm really glad you came. Well, in that sense, yes, but also you making the trip here", I interrupt with a playful smack to her shoulder.

"I wasn't too rough, was I?"

"It was perfect", I reassured,

Craning my head up to meet her lips.

"About your brother-"

"We don't have to talk about that"

"But we do"

She sits up, as I did the same, covering myself with the comforter.

"It’s always so easy to get caught up in messes, but that doesn't excuse what I did or let happen"

"I love my friends and I'd do anything for them...but not at the cost of someone like you. I've admired you since the day we met. Your passion, your drive and not to mention your everlasting beauty, it seems"

I couldn't help, but blush at her confession.

"Though I'm used to your fiery, protective side, I've also caught glimpses of your heart when I see you care for the people you love...I couldn't deny that"

"So I thought the best way to keep myself away from you was to make you hate me", she continued.

"Because I knew letting myself fall for you was betraying The Judgment Day, when lo and behold, you felt the same all along. We were always so consumed with putting other people first, that we forgot that our own happiness mattered too"

The more she spoke, the more it all made sense.

"And at some point, I couldn't hold back anymore...so I just let it happen. You can tell me that I'm wrong and that nothing that I said made sense, but I know, by that look in your eye, that I'm not"

By the end of her speaking, I was in tears, having felt so seen and understood. I gently cup her face in my hands, kissing her once more.

"You're not wrong", I sniffled,

Pulling back.

"I don't think I would've ever had the courage to say those things to your face"

"Of course, you would've. You're braver than you think"

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley smut #demi bennett

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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Summary: Eddie's past in Chicago is revealed after he reaches his breaking point, but he's not the only one facing a crisis.

Warnings: mentions of drug use/addiction, neonatal medical trauma, panic attack, mentions of learning disability, brief allusion to Kurt Cobain's death, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 7.2k

Chapter 7/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie was no stranger to bad report cards, failing grades, and dissatisfied teachers. You don’t fail twelfth grade twice without dealing with all three of those. He’d learned to shrug it off and move along with his day, mostly unfazed.

Those same things directed towards his son was a different story.

Ms. Marion’s words rattle around in his brain, wrapping around his lungs and choking him from the inside out.

Constantly interrupting

His heartbeat pulses in his ears, drowning out the background noise of other parents chatting as they wait their turn to meet with the teachers.

Incapable of paying attention and following directions

A bead of sweat trickles down the back of his neck to his spine, then another, until he feels his t-shirt sticking to his skin. Despite the stifling heat building up in his body, his teeth chatter together noisily as a deep shiver rips through him.

Socially and academically behind his peers

He knew this day might come; he should’ve been prepared for it to happen. Has he only been fooling himself, pretending like everything was going to be fine?

At this rate, he won’t be ready for kindergarten

Eddie swears he’s walking to the parking lot, one foot in front of the other, keys clenched in his right hand until he feels their serrated edges digging into the calloused skin of his palm. Yet he finds himself at your classroom door jamb, leaning up against it with a soft thud.

You’re struggling to stay awake after the long day you’ve had. You roll your shoulders, wincing as you hear the small pop. You’ve just finished the last conference with Frankie’s mom, Carol, and she was a bitch and a half. She’d insisted that her son was gifted and demanded that you recommend he start kindergarten early.

A noise draws your attention to the door, and you’re suddenly wide awake when you see who’s there.

“What’re you doing–hey, what’s going on?” Your curiosity morphs into concern when you clock Eddie’s ragged breathing and tear-streaked face. He’s repeating something, but his voice is so low that the words resemble a hum, and you can’t catch them until you get closer to him.

“Harris–falling behind–all my fault.” Eddie speaks as though he’s in a trance. His brown eyes are saucers, and more tears fall with each blink of his eyelids. “Falling behind–all my fault.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but you do know that you need to get him inside the classroom before anyone else sees him breaking down. You reach for his wrist, and he instinctively flinches and pulls away before seemingly snapping back to reality and resting his hand in yours. One calloused palm trembles in your smooth one as you lead him to the table where you’d just been speaking with Carol Perkins, only letting go to steady himself into the chair.

“Falling behind–all my fault.”

You take both of his hands this time, and he doesn’t draw back when you do. “Eyes on me, okay? We’re gonna breathe together.” It’s the same technique that you’d used with Harris on Halloween. In for three, out for three. Eddie watches you a few times before joining in, breath hitching slightly before evening out. “There ya go…here, let me get you something to eat.” You offer him a small, kind smile that he doesn’t reciprocate before rummaging through the bottom drawer of your desk and pulling out a little bag of mini pretzels and a half-pint of water. “These good?”

He manages a nod, eyes locked onto you even as he twists open the snack and absentmindedly pops one in his mouth. He’s still in a daze, but no longer at risk of hyperventilating. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” you cautiously ask, not wanting to trigger another panic attack.

A solid ten seconds passes before he answers. When he finally does, the hoarseness in his voice startles you. “Could you, um, close the door?”

“Of course.” The wheels of your swivel chair skid against the tile floor, but Eddie’s too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice. When you return to your seat, he doesn’t even register your presence until you say, “whenever you’re ready.”

“I, um,” he clears his throat. “I just had the parent-teacher conference thing with Ms. Marion. And, apparently, Harris is destined for failure, just like his old man.”

He relays everything the old woman told him; the racing thoughts all spill out like bees fleeing their hive.

“She starts off by saying that he’s already behind the other kids, which may not seem like a big deal now, but, apparently, it means he’ll fall farther behind as he grows up.” He gnaws on his lower lip and continues. “And then she said that him interrupting and not paying attention is because he ‘lacks structure at home,’” he adds with a grimace.

“But y’know what really fuckin’ got me?” he asks, rubbing his hands over his jean-clad knees until his palms are tinged red. “She said to me, ‘Some kids aren’t cut out for school, and if Harris is struggling with preschool, it’ll be a long road ahead of him.” Eddie’s eyes are shiny with the prospect of a fresh batch of tears. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

You try to quell your temper for the sake of professionalism, but your boiling blood makes it almost impossible. “None of that is true. Harris having trouble doesn’t make him impossible to teach. And it doesn’t make you a bad parent.”

Eddie can’t manage eye contact when he says, “But what if I’m the reason why he’s having trouble?” His voice is so small that you can barely hear it.

“I’ve taught a lot of kids with a lot of different needs, and none of them–”

“You’re not listening!” Eddie slams his fist on the desk, rattling your jar of pencils, and you reach out to steady it. His eyes blaze with fury, but this time, it’s not towards you. “It is my fault, because I am a bad parent! I let this happen!”

You crease your brows. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” What, exactly, is his fault? What could he possibly have done?

Eddie shakes his head despondently. “I-I didn’t know…Harris’s mom, she…Christ, it’s a long story.” But you can practically see the words on the tip of his tongue, just waiting for permission to be spoken.

So you give it to him.

“You can talk to me,” you murmur, resisting the urge to grab his hand and lace your fingers through his. Just to comfort him, you tell yourself. “You can trust me.”

Eddie lets out a slow, low breath and looks up at the ceiling. There’s a long silence; for a moment, you worry that you’ve said something wrong. Overstepped your bounds. Harris technically isn’t your student anymore, and God only knows where you and Eddie stand.

Finally, Eddie begins to speak. “I met her out in Chicago when I was twenty-four? Twenty-five? She was a groupie, I guess. We never said we were seeing each other exclusively, but after a while, I realized that she was the only person I was sleeping with, so…” He shrugs. “A couple nights before my band and I left for tour, she told me she was pregnant. Too far along to, um, do anything about it. She apparently didn’t even think to test until she complained about gaining some weight and her friend brought it up.” His gaze shifts to the window over his right shoulder, and all you hear is the sound of his sneakered feet nervously tapping a fast rhythm against the tiled floor. “Look, I’m not proud of this, but I used to party. A lot. And at these parties, there were, um…”

“Drugs?” you supply before you can bite back the comment, clenching your fists at your side where he can’t see you chastising yourself.

Eddie just laughs, a throaty chuckle that escapes despite the seriousness of the conversation. “A shit-ton of ‘em. I was partial to coke; helped me stay awake when I wanted to crash. But I swear, I only used when I was partying. And when I found out I had a kid on the way, I stopped using completely. Cleanest tour of my life.” His lips turn up in a semblance of a smile that doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Figured she’d do the same…she said she would, but…”

Your heart sinks; you know exactly where this is going, but you don’t dare interrupt him this time.

“I was at some dive bar in Cincinnati when I got the call that she was in labor; ran right off the stage and caught the first flight back home. I got there in time to watch him be born; and it was the best goddamn moment of my stupid life, until…” His voice breaks on the last word, and he can’t stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes. Or maybe he doesn’t want to. “He was six weeks early. Fuck, I shoulda known, but I was just so excited to be a dad. He was shaking so hard that his tiny little body was practically blurry, and, like a total moron, I’m going, ‘Is he cold? Does he need a blanket?’ No one would answer me; they just fuckin’ whisked him away before I could even hold him. And when they brought him back, they told me that he tested positive for cocaine and had something called Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome because of it. Said it can affect his learning, his attention span, everything. Kid wasn’t even two hours old and I’d already fucked him up.”

Your response seems meek; far too pathetic for the intensity of what he’s just admitted. “But it was his mom…”

He tucks his lips into his mouth, pressing them together until the outer edges turn white.

“Yeah, she was the one using,” he relents, but his tone is so thick with self-loathing that you couldn’t claw through it if you tried. “But where the fuck was I? On the road, thinking I could be a rockstar and take care of a family. If I had stayed back, I could’ve stopped her. I would’ve seen that she wasn’t just doing it at parties or shows; she was an addict. I could’ve gotten her help; I could’ve saved my son from being born a goddamn coke addict!”

“You can’t make someone stop doing drugs,” you say feebly, though you’re certain he already knows this.

“But I could’ve done something! Fucking anything! And it would’ve been better than not being there.”

You have to choose your next words wisely, mulling them on your tongue before talking. “Is she still involved in Harris’s life?”

He shakes his head forlornly. “I invited her to his first birthday party, and she came, surprisingly. All the way from Chicago. I thought maybe she was getting her life together. Then, right before we were gonna cut the cake, she came out of the bathroom with white residue under her nose. I told her to leave and not to come back until she got clean.” He barks out a gruff laugh, as though he still can’t believe it. “Haven’t heard from her since.”

You don’t know how to respond to this. It’s going to be okay seems too patronizing, because nothing about this is okay. I’m sorry? What are you sorry for? Harris’s mom is an atrocious excuse for a human being, and so is Ms. Marion? Kind of tips the balance towards the unprofessionalism you’re striving to avoid.

Eddie continues, not noticing your failure to respond. “The doctors would tell me that he was developing slower than he should be–walking and talking and stuff–but he always got there eventually. But hearing his teacher say that he wouldn’t…fuck, if that’s true, I’ll never forgive myself.” He puffs out his cheeks as he exhales; tendrils of hair flow upwards and flutter back down with the exaggerated breath, and you realize that he’s trying to ward off another crying spell.

You can’t remove the guilt that eats him alive, but maybe he’s not asking you to. “I’ve never met a more determined little kid than Harris Munson,” you say truthfully. “Name one time that boy gave up.”

“For better or for worse, I can’t think of any.” His eyes still don’t meet yours, but you see a flicker of happiness at the mention of Harris’s perseverance before his expression darkens again. “Call me stupid; that’s fine. But my son is gonna be better than I ever was.”

Your heart pangs with sympathy when he puts himself down. “You’re not stupid.” He bristles at your reassurance, puzzling you even more. “What?”

Eddie runs his tongue over his teeth. “That’s not what you said before.” The comment isn’t accusatory, just a simple fact, as though he’s talking about the weather. “On the first day of school, you told me to leave before I said anything else ‘ridiculously stupid.’”

“I just–”

“Look, I’m not saying the Cat-and-Mouse is the nicest thing to do,” he interrupts, cheeks aflame at the mere mention of it, “but I guess it really fucked with me for someone I…someone I just met…to call me stupid.” The phrasing is clunky and awkward, and he sinks his teeth into the tip of his tongue in a paltry attempt to stop the word flow.

You take in his shameful expression, mulling over a response. Knowing what you know now–that his little game was a poorly-designed coping mechanism after being put through the wringer–your comment was harsher than he deserved. “I was hurt, and I…I should’ve just said so. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Just an asshole?” He tilts his head, finally looking at you. The corners of his mouth turn up to form his first smile of the evening.

“Just an asshole,” you confirm playfully. Another silence fills the room, only interrupted by Eddie crunching on the pretzels you gave him. He’s nibbling on them from the outside, as though savoring each bite. “Mr. Munson?”

“Eddie,” he says, crinkling the empty pretzel bag in his fist and tossing it into the nearby waste bin. “Please, just call me Eddie.” Mr. Munson awakens memories of his father; specifically, the way the cops addressed him each time he got arrested for various offenses.

“Eddie.” Though you’d called him that on the night that you two had fooled around, the name feels foreign in your mouth. Too casual for what you’re about to propose. “Eddie, um, back to the stuff with Harris…” You swallow your nerves and push through, knowing that you need to do what’s best for Harris, even if you have to face his dad’s wrath. “If I suggest something, promise you won’t get mad.”

Eddie flinches, but not for the reason you think. No, it’s because he hates that you’re fearful of his reaction. He hates that he’s made you afraid of him. “Fuck. I mean, yeah. I promise.”

“What…what if we talked to the school psychologist about getting him evaluated for a learning disability?” The words tumble out, and you worry that whatever semblance of acquaintanceship will shatter, leaving you unable to pick up all of the pieces. And even if you can, even the best adhesive can leave visible fractures.

His jaw clenches; his shoulders draw up and biceps flex with a twitch, fight or flight instinct kicking in. This was a horrible idea; he’s already emotional from the conference with Ms. Marion, and now you’ve crossed a line. You’re so caught up in deciphering his body language that you don’t catch his softening eyes as he silently reminds himself that you’re on his side. On Harris’s side, at the very least.

“What does that involve?” he asks. It’s inquisitive, not judgmental, and you permit yourself a small sigh of relief at the narrowly-averted crisis.

You explain the process as Eddie intently listens, nodding to acknowledge that he’s following along. “Nothing invasive; just asking him questions and giving him some tests, and then if he does have a learning disability, we’d figure out what modifications we can make so he can learn alongside the other kids.”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, considering your recommendation. “Will they know? The other kids, I mean. Will they know that he needs, like, extra help to learn?”

“Nope.” You shake your head. “I don’t know how Ms. Marion runs her classroom, but I always emphasize that everyone learns differently anyway.”

He nods, drumming his fingertips on the desk in a rhythm you can’t decipher. “Do you think…if we do the evaluation, would he go to kindergarten on time?”

“Well, as a teacher, I’m not supposed to say. But as a friend,” you shrug, “I think it’s worth a shot.”

As a friend. A friend. Friend. The word reverberates around Eddie’s brain, replaying like a melody he can’t pause. But he doesn’t want to stop it. He wants you to call him your friend over and over again, enveloping him in your kindness, never letting him go. He wants to wrap his arms around you in a hug and bury his face in the crook of your neck, while he laughs or sobs or a combination of both.

Do friends do that? Or is that something more complex than he can allow himself to imagine?

Your voice brings his perseverations to a grinding halt. “And you can be there while they evaluate him. So he won’t have to be alone.”

Another nod, another pregnant pause. He twists his curls around his pointer finger, brushing them over his lips. “Could you come, too?” he murmurs, quickly clarifying, “for Harris?”

“Of course.” You agree without a second thought, watching as his body unstiffens when he leans back in the chair with a sigh. “And if you want, I could tutor him after school once a week. Catch him up and stuff.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “You’d do that?”

“Mhm,” you beam. It’s like cracking a complex code after aimlessly spinning the dial, hoping to land on the right combination of numbers. “Just…it would have to be at my place, so I can stay home with Grandma. Medicare only pays for her aide to be there for a certain number of hours. I’m actually paying out of pocket so I could be here tonight.” While you’d initially been annoyed at having to spend your hard-earned money just to talk to ungrateful parents, this time with Eddie has made it worth every penny.

“Yeah, no problem,” he easily agrees, starting to stand and brushing some rogue pretzel crumbs from his jeans. “Oh, um, how much do you charge? For the tutoring?”

At this, you giggle. “Eddie, you’re not paying me to work with my,” you lower your voice mid-protest, even though the door is closed and no one else is around, “favorite student.”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest defiantly, denim jacket creasing at the elbows. “Well, I’m not gonna let you work for free, so name your price.”

“Fine,” you huff, feigning annoyance. “It’ll cost one…pizza.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Seriously,” you confirm, walking to the supply closet and grabbing your coat. The inside of the sleeves are chilly, having not been exposed to the heat churning through the classroom, and the temperature shift makes you shiver. “Saves me from having to worry about making dinner. And Grandma loves pizza, so it’s one less thing for her to argue about.”

The arguments in question were still happening frequently, though her verbiage was decreasing with each subsequent spat. Last night, you’d told her that she had to turn her TV down so you could sleep. Grandma had repeatedly yelled “no” and “hate you” until you gave up and smushed one half of your pillow over your exposed ear in a pathetic attempt to muffle the sounds of the infomercials blasting from her room.

“I can do that,” he agrees, following you towards the door and stepping out of the way so you can flick off the light, plunging the classroom into total darkness. “Any toppings?”

You think for a moment, tapping your forefinger to your chin as your other hand rotates the key in the door until you hear the soft click of the lock. You twist the knob just to make sure, only turning from the door once you’ve confirmed that it doesn’t open. “Ooh, we both love olives. Get those.”

Eddie scrunches his nose in disgust. “I’ll do half olives, half plain, so Harris and I won’t have to suffer.”

You stop in your tracks. Eddie’s chest bumps against your back. “Oh, I…”

“Shit, that wasn’t an invitation, was it?” He’s blushing, cheeks turning a deep crimson at his gaffe. “Sorry, totally misread–”

“No, no, I’d like the company.” You’ve come to appreciate how much easier it is to navigate Grandma’s moods when there are other people around, but you can’t ask someone to endure that just for your comfort. “‘S just that my grandma…well, you saw her at the hospital that night. She says things that are mean, or inappropriate, or don’t make sense…I don’t want Harris to hear that.”

Eddie just laughs, waving off your concern of Harris. “He grew up around me and Wayne. He’ll probably be teaching her some bad words.”

“Oh, God,” you shudder at the thought of Harris and Grandma swapping swear words. “Then, yeah, I’d love to have you over for dinner. Are Wednesdays at four okay? We can start tomorrow, if that works.”

“Perfect!” Eddie chirps, tossing his car keys upwards and dramatically snatching them mid-air. “I teach guitar lessons, so Wayne’ll drop him off. I’ll swing by around five with the olive pizza.” His pronunciation of the topping is obnoxiously whiny and snide, and you roll your eyes, pushing open the main doors to the school while he trails behind you.

You’re normally not at work this late, and it feels almost unnatural to walk out to a night sky. Clouds obscure the stars, and the dim streetlights do little to pave a discernible path. Eddie seems to be walking in the same direction, and there’s a sense of comfort knowing that you don’t have to navigate the parking lot alone.

The volume of Eddie’s voice lowers considerably as he says, “You’re…you’re kinda the best, y’know that?”

“About time you realized.” You smile as the two of you approach your car. You slide into the driver’s seat, tugging the seatbelt over your shoulder. “Where did you park?”

“Um…” Eddie squints, pointing to a spot clear across the lot. “Right there.”

Your jaw drops. “Eddie!”

“What?”

“Why’d you walk all this way, then?” Your keys sit in the ignition, waiting to be turned over.

“And leave you to trek across this vast terrain all by your lonesome?” He presses his hand to his heart, staggering backwards until he bumps into another parked car. “Ow, shit. So, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yup.” And as he closes your car door with a small wave, it occurs to you that you’re actually looking forward to seeing Eddie Munson.

Elise wasn’t exaggerating when she’d warned you that Grandma was in a mood today. In addition to the usual song and dance to the tune of “those pills aren’t mine,” she’s insisted on changing her clothes no less than four times in the hour since you’ve been home, grumbling that every outfit doesn’t look right. As you wipe down the kitchen counter, sweeping crumbs from your after-work snack into the garbage bin, you hear banging against the living room wall. Never a good sign.

“Grandma?” you call out as you abandon your chore and start towards her. She’s struggling to hold onto the large painting of a sailboat that should be mounted on the wall. You get to her side just before she can topple over, grabbing the artwork from her grasp. “What are you doing? Why did you take this down?”

She looks at it–and you–with utter disgust. “S’ugly,” she mumbles.

There’s no sense in telling her that it was her favorite or that she picked it out herself years ago. Instead, you heave a frustrated sigh. “Okay, well, we’ll just leave it here,” you say, carefully leaning the cherry-lacquered frame against the wall.

“No!” She shakes her head, tousled gray hair brushing against the wrinkles etched into her cheeks. “No, no!” Anger creeps into her voice, and tears appear along her lash line. Truth be told, your tears are not too far behind.

“Look, I’ll just…turn it around. See?” You swivel the painting so it faces the wall; all that’s visible now is the sad beige frame backing. It’s hard to believe that she finds this view more appealing than the soft watercolor brushstrokes of blues and greens, but you leave it as is, until she inevitably demands to know why it’s no longer hanging up.

The harsh buzz of the intercom brings your quasi-argument to an abrupt end. You can hear some shuffling, and then an older man’s raspy voice instructs, “say who you are so she knows you’re here.”

“HARRIS!” The little boy exclaims loudly. “Oh, and my Grampa Wayne!”

The sound of his voice alone is enough to bring a smile to your face. You press the button that lets them into the building, quickly ushering Grandma into her room and putting on the Animal Planet. A rerun of Wildlife SOS blares through the TV, and you can only hope that Harris won’t be too distracted by the noise. It certainly beats being the recipient of one of her incoherent rants.

The frantic knock on the door ushers away your anxious thoughts. “Ms. Sweetheart, I’m here!”

“Relax, buddy,” the older man–Wayne–gently reminds him.

You open the door, grinning as Harris barrels into the apartment. His little arms wrap around your waist as he envelops you in a tight hug. “Ms. Sweetheart! I’m at your house!”

“You are,” you agree with a laugh, patting his back with your palm before offering your hand to his grandfather. “And you must be Grampa Wayne.”

The older man chuckles as he shakes your hand in his own calloused one. The whiskers above his lips and on his chin are white, flecks of gray stubble peppered along his jawline. “‘S nice to put a face to the name. All I hear about lately is how wonderful Ms. Sweetheart is.” He bashfully scratches at the wisps of hair that lay flat along the crown of his head.

Taking compliments is not your strongest suit, but you manage. “Trust me, I’ve heard some great things about Grampa Wayne, too. I’m just glad Harris loves being my student as much as I love teaching him.”

“Huh?” Wayne’s forehead crinkles in confusion before he catches himself. “Oh, yeah, Harris. Right.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, Ed’ll be here at five.”

“He’s bringing PIZZA!” Harris shouts, unable to contain his excitement as he pumps a tiny fist in the air.

Wayne shakes his head, as if to say, this kid. “C’mere, Har. Give me a hug goodbye.” Harris all but leaps into his grandpa’s arms, spider-monkeying his legs around his waist. Emotion wells within you as the gesture reminds you of the easy way love used to flow between you and Grandma. No questions or doubts about who you were or how she would perceive you in that moment.

As soon as Wayne leaves, Harris tugs on the hem of your shirt, peering up at you with a gigantic grin. “Daddy telled me that you’re gonna teach me again! But not at school.”

“Mhm!” you say, guiding him over to the kitchen table. You’ve cleared a spot for the two of you to work. There’s a stack of flashcards in front of your chair, and Harris eyes them curiously. “Those are gonna help you learn letter names and sounds. You’ll be reading like a pro in no time.”

He eagerly nods, flinging one little leg onto the chair and climbing onto it haphazardly. He’s facing the back of the chair with his knees tucked underneath him, and he shifts until he’s sitting on his bottom, eye-level with the tabletop. “I can’t see anything!” he harrumphs grumpily.

“Here, you can face me,” you tell him, holding the chair steady as he swivels around again. “There ya go. This works out better anyway.” You tap the deck of cards on the table, watching as Harris kicks his feet in anticipation. “We’re gonna play a game with these,” you say, keeping your tone full of excitement. “I’ll hold up a letter, and you tell me what the letter’s name is and the sound it makes. And if it’s a little tricky, there’s a picture on the back that might help you out. Sounds good?”

Harris considers this, tongue poking out between his lips, and you can’t help but notice the way he mimics Eddie’s actions. “Can I see the picture even if it isn’t tricky?” he asks.

“Absolutely.” You shuffle the deck, making a dramatic show of closing your eyes and folding the cards into a bridge. “Let me give you an example.” You grab the card off of the top, the letter R printed in bold, black lettering. “This is the letter R. It makes the rrrr sound.”

“What’s the picture?” Harris squeals, clapping his hands together, the sound muffled by the cast on his wrist. When you flip the card around to reveal a cartoon robot, he cackles like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. “He has triangles for eyes! That is so silly!”

“That is silly,” you agree with a laugh, putting the card at the back of the deck and holding up the next one for him. “Okay, now it’s your turn. Remember, just do your best. This is just so I can see what we need to work on.”

He nods, sitting up straight as he reads the letter F.

“Nice job, Har! And what sound does F make?” This is more difficult for him, and he squints as though it will help him remember.

“Umm, eh?” He knows it’s not correct, and you watch as his shoulders begin to slump dejectedly. “I…I don’t know.” His lower lip juts out, quivering as he admits it.

You keep your tone light and breezy. “No worries! We can always look at the picture, and if it’s still tricky, we can figure it out together.” You show him the french fries on the back of the card.

“French fries!” Harris exclaims giddily.

“And what sound does french fries start with?” You enunciate the start of the words, but he still can’t seem to get the pronunciation. His breath hitches with frustration, chubby fingers digging into his tousled curls to pull at them. “You can ask me for help if you need to. That’s what I’m here for!”

His tiny “need help” is almost inaudible, head drooping towards his chest in defeat. “Everyone needs help sometimes,” you say kindly, pointing to the flashcard to draw his attention back to it. “F makes the ffff sound. Go ahead, try it.”

Harris emulates you, bits of spittle flying as he makes the noise over and over again. “This is fun!” he cheers, eyes widening when he comes to a realization. “Hey, fun starts with the fffff sound, too!”

“Sure does!” You raise your hand for a high-five, shaking it in mock-agony when he slaps it. “Wow, Har, you’re super strong! Okay, let’s try the next one.”

With a few breaks to release some energy, Harris continues stumbling through the rest of the alphabet unceremoniously. He’s definitely behind, you realize, but not so badly that he’s unable to catch up with some extra help.

“Only a couple more to go,” you assure him, presenting the card with the letter P.

“P!” he yells, a grin spreading from ear to ear across his sweet face. “An’ it makes the puh sound!” He reaches out and plucks the flashcard from between your fingers, turning it to see the picture on the back. “It’s a princess.” His eyes flit between you and the pink poofy dress-clad cartoon. “Me an’ Daddy think you’re pretty like a princess.”

There’s no time to ask for further clarification before a loud bang erupts from Grandma’s bedroom. You swear silently, somehow still aware of the four-year-old beside you as you dash to her door. Instinctually, you grab the knob and twist, only to be met with resistance.

“Grandma!” you call out, pounding your fist as loudly as you can. “Grandma, open the door!” You hear the soft, slow pad of her footsteps, watching as the door knob turns slightly before it stops.

“‘S broke,” Grandma says from her side, and relief temporarily floods your senses with the knowledge that she’s unscathed enough to get to the door.

“No, it’s just locked. I need you to unlock it.” Another brief twitch, then nothing. “You…you have to turn the little dial on it. See how it’s horizontal—um, left to right? It needs to go up and down. Can you switch it?” Jiggle jiggle, silence. No attempt to toggle the dial.

“Ms. Sweetheart? ‘S everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, honey,” you lie through your teeth. “Why don’t you go look at the pictures on the—”

BZZZT!

“Pizza delivery!” Eddie croons through the intercom. “One half plain, half gross—sorry, half olive—”

“Eddie!” you press your finger to the button, cutting him off more sharply than you mean to. “Eddie, my grandma locked herself in her room, and she can’t remember how to open it.” Your voice catches in your throat, and you swallow the lump in a determined attempt not to break down in front of your guests.

There’s a pause before his voice floats through the box again. “Gimme a sec.” That’s all he says before he’s gone as quickly as he arrived, and you turn to face the inquisitive little boy who remains glued to your side.

“Har, why don’t you go sit at the table until Daddy comes.” Thankfully, he doesn’t put up a fight, and you’re able to turn your attention back to the crisis. “Grandma, can you please turn the dial?” But when you’re met with another disheartening turn of the doorknob, you have to accept defeat.

BZZZT!

“It’s me; let me up,” Eddie’s words are straightforward but not brusque or curt, and you buzz him in without wasting any time. He’s at your door in a hurry, and you open it before he can knock twice. He’s got the pizza box balancing in his right hand and a small rectangular container tucked under his arm. “Is she hurt?” he asks, handing you the box as you lead him towards Grandma’s room.

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. She’s been twisting the doorknob, but she doesn’t understand what I mean when I asked her to unlock it.”

He nods, examining the knob for a second before unfastening the box’s latch and pulling out a tool that resembles a miniature hook. Splitting his stance, he squints and pokes his tongue from his mouth, just as his son had done earlier. Within seconds, you hear the telltale click of the door unlocking, and you exhale audibly. Relief floods your body as your shoulders untense; you hadn’t even realized you’d pinched them together. Behind Grandma, the TV has toppled to the floor, screen now resting on top of the beige carpet, but that’s the least of your concerns.

“Are you all right?” you ask her, checking for scrapes and scratches, but she luckily appears to have escaped unscathed. “How did this even fall?” You pick up the TV, wincing as you get a glimpse of the spider web of cracked glass right in the center.

“Dunno,” Grandma shrugs, moving past you to get to the piping hot pizza that you’ve placed on the kitchen table. She slides into the chair you’d just been sitting on, pushing the pile of flashcards away clumsily. “‘M hungry.”

You look at Eddie and Harris and muster up a smile. “Guess it’s dinner time! Oh, Grandma, wait for a plate.” You grab four of the plastic pale blue plates from the cabinet to set the table, giving one to Grandma first. You place one at the spot Harris had just occupied, and one in front of the third and final chair–

“Shit,” you whisper under your breath before addressing the boys again. “Um, we only have three chairs. ‘S normally just me and Grandma, and sometimes her aide–”

“No worries,” Eddie waves off your concern, scooping Harris up and resting him against his hip. “Harris can sit on my lap.”

“Or I can sit on Ms. Sweetheart’s lap!” Harris squeals, wriggling out of his dad’s grasp. “Or Ms. Sweetheart can sit on your lap!”

You cough as Eddie turns bright red, cheeks the same shade as the marinara sauce buried under a thick layer of cheese. He sweeps Harris on top of his thighs and snags a slice of pizza for each of them. “Uh, yeah, no,” he mumbles, taking a gigantic cheesy bite in an attempt to end the conversation.

Dinner goes as well as it possibly can. Harris asks to try an olive, promptly spitting it onto his plate as soon as the taste hits his tongue. Grandma tells Eddie no less than five times that she likes his shirt, thoroughly embarrassing you, but he just politely says “thank you,” each time as though it’s the first. At one point, Harris gives him a bewildered glance, but before he can say anything, Eddie whispers, “I’ll explain later, bud.”

The rest of the meal is filled with conversations about work and school. Eddie tells a story about how a customer came into the store completely frazzled after listening to a Nirvana album. “She thought it was about Buddhism, and was very distraught when she got Kurt Cobain instead. Guess she missed the whole…” He mimics holding a gun to his head, and you laugh at the crude gesture, slapping his hand out of the way before Harris can see. Luckily, the boy is too engrossed in dissecting his slice to notice.

Grandma retreats to her room as soon as she finishes her dinner, and Harris gets bored soon after, squirming to the floor and dashing to the living room TV set–now the only working one in the house. That leaves you and Eddie at the table alone.

“I can take your plate if you’re done,” you say as you lean over, scoffing when Eddie starts to get up and bring his empty dish to the sink. “Hey, let me clean up. You brought the pizza.”

“Yeah, because you tutored Harris,” he reminds you, swooping in to grab your plate as well. “So we’re even.”

“Even?” you ask incredulously. “After you rescued my grandma and kept us company during dinner? Do you know how long it’s been since I had an actual conversation during a meal?”

Eddie chuckles at this. “I think ‘rescued’ is a bit dramatic. All I did was unlock a door; not exactly superhero stuff.” He shakes his hair back behind his shoulders.

“She could’ve been hurt,” you point out earnestly, following him to shoo him away from the pile of dirty dishes, “and without you, my only option was to take a battering ram to the door. I don’t even know where I would buy one of those.”

“Have you tried Melvald’s? They sell everything there. ‘S actually where I got Harris.” Eddie teases, hand inching towards the faucet.

“Eddie, sit down and relax. Don’t you dare turn on the water.” Your eyes widen as he locks his gaze with yours, flicking on the spout indignantly and grabbing the sponge without breaking eye contact. “Eddie, I mean it–”

He smacks the sponge against a plate and harshly brushes it up and down, still staring at you. “Oops,” he deadpans, rinsing it and haphazardly placing it in the dishrack before picking up another one. “Oops again.”

“Give me that!” you charge over to him, yanking it away before he realizes what you’re doing. You squeeze the bottle of soap over the already-saturated sponge just to emphasize your point. “Go watch TV with your son and let me clean up.”

He’s quiet for a moment, leaning back next to you. The hem of his shirt makes contact with some water that sprayed out of the sink, but he doesn’t notice; if he does, then he doesn’t care. “I don’t usually have anyone to talk to at night, either. And with Harris–I mean, I love him to fuckin’ death, but a guy can only hear so much about the latest episode of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers.” He clears his throat, but the words come out even softer somehow. “I like talking to you.”

The water runs uninterrupted by any movement as you look into his warm eyes. Flecks of gold punctuate the deep chocolate orbs that are drinking you in. They're the same eyes that you looked into on the night that he’d brought you back to his place. The eyes that shot daggers at you while he spewed venom at you in the music store. The eyes that could barely look at you when he’d somberly confessed his past, more motivated by anxiety than trust. The eyes that could flip your world upside down if you let them.

He lets his thumb graze yours as he grabs the newly clean plate from your hand, wiping it with a towel until it’s impossibly dry. You can’t look away from his lips, the way they practically scream kiss me. And you want to. Fuck, you want to so badly.

But you’re not stupid. Possibly naive, hooking up with him nearly three months ago and thinking it would have no emotional impact on you, but not stupid. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…

“Same time next week?” you blurt out, taking you both by surprise. It’s too abrupt to be natural, but you don’t care. You need to stop this before it starts. Again.

Eddie recovers quickly, though his nod is a bit delayed. “It’s a date. Uh, a tutoring date. For Harris.”

“For Harris.”

Harris is at your classroom door the next morning, knocking excitedly. “Ms. Sweetheart, I got something for you!” Digging into his backpack, he produces a plastic bag tied in a knot. Bradley’s Big Buy is stamped on the side, but the contents aren’t anything you’d find in the supermarket.

It’s a lockout kit; the same kind that he’d used last night to unlock Grandma’s door. There’s a note Scotch-taped to it, and you read it silently:

I hope it doesn’t happen again, but I wanted you to be prepared in case it does.

-Eddie

P.S. Don’t try to pay me back. It was much cheaper than a battering ram.

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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barblaz-arts · 4 months ago

Note

Ok I lied, one more Hazbin character ask.🙏

Thoughts on Lucifer, Carmilla, Rosie, and Adam?

Lucifer

I love love love him. Terrible dad tho! Lmfaoo

Genuinely think Charlie let him off the hook too easy for all the neglect imo. It's kinda weird how most of the fandom suddenly thinks he's a great dad. He's okay at best, tbh. Just because he has a gorgeous singing voice(Jeremy Jordan is the fuckin BEST man) and a silly personality doesn't mean everything's swell. I hope the second season further tackles this. I remember someone saying before that Lucifer resembled a dad who accidentally had a baby as a teen and doesn't actually know how to be a father and I haven't forgotten about how accurate that is. Still tho! Great character! I'm not even exactly mad about him being popular, just a little bothered by how he's viewed by most people. I hope the show has him do more than sing a musical number to EARN Charlie's forgiveness

Carmilla

I love her, even if the way her character is written is a little, um, how do I say it? Weird? Doesn't make sense sometimes.

Like how she's a demon Overlord who sells weapons but has a line that goes "I always thought that I would keep blood off my face". So does that mean she's never killed anyone before? Or maybe she swore off killing at some point? If she's only ever taken a life to protect her daughters, what sin did she commit to get her to end up in Hell, with her daughters no less. I have my speculations, but with how little we know about her, speculations don't change the fact that Carmilla is a strangely written character. She has some moments that are just questionable choices from the writers too. Like, how they had Carmilla point out how obvious Vaggie's nature is, making Charlie's feelings of betrayal look a little stupid on Charlie's part. Or how Carmilla sang to Vaggie that she should focus on love and not revenge, even though all Vaggie has ever thought about is protecting Charlie while never showing any signs of even thinking about getting back at Lute. Such a strange character. I hope she makes more sense next season when we get to see more of her, because I truly do love her. If this is never tackled though and I just happen to be overthinking, it's fine. I still like her anyways.

Rosie

A really sweet lady for a, um, cannibal. I can never get behind the fact that she and the other characters eat people RAW though! No matter how beautiful she is, the hotness factor is knocked down as long as you don't clean, cook, and season your food, maam. Nasty.

I hope we see more of her relationship with Charlie though. People keep talking about how Carmilla and Vaggie are similar, but I feel we should talk about her similarities with Charlie too. Throughout the show Charlie is ridiculed and given no respect by her people because of her sweet nature and jolly disposition, but here Rosie is being all those things and yet has a whole town to lead! I hope them meeting is set up to have Charlie learn even more from her.

Adam

Oh man he vexes me lol I don't completely hate him, because he has some funny moments, and kickass songs, and the OG Broadway Beetlejuice voices him, but he's suuuuuch an asshooooole. He's not even the kind of villain that you still like to see and romanticize even when he's evil. At least to me. I think my brother explained accurately why. He hates Adam in fact, and that's because his attitude and personality is too accurate to incels that you can see in real life. I enjoyed him as the first season's villain, but I do NOT want him coming back somehow as a sinner like others want. I want him to stay dead. It's Lute's turn to be the new big bad. I still have Pentious if I want more Alex Brightman anyway.

#asks #hazbin hotel

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inknopewetrust · 1 year ago

Text

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

summary: you are recruited to the spider society after conducting a batch of vigilante actions against the men who killed your husband, miguel and well... their leader isn’t like the man you remembered.

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider-woman!reader [wc: 12.7k]

warnings: language. this has got everything: backstory, meeting, conflict, angst, sadness, tie-ins with the film, (i hope you're reading this in a stefon voice), ethical dilemmas, vigilante shit, violence, romantic love strains, etc., etc.

Manhattan was rainy. It was always rainy.

But let’s do this again, shall we?

The skyline was high. Muddled variants of blues and reds, the colors that had painted your life for a decade now. It was silly to imagine a world of color beyond that–it's all you knew, you had nothing left.

And all of that nothing was the consequences of the dealings of a few bad men.

You breathed in deep. They were right there, right below your feet.

Their laughter in their indifference to life was vexing. It made your blood broil and bubble to the surface where you thought your eyes may have been red and your grip on the stone building was onerous.

In the distance, police sirens blared across the city where crime did not take a backseat because their most treasure hero was rogue. People were in trouble but you saw cessation of hope with every second that passed and those in charge did nothing to avenge your husband.

Husband. Nevertheless, what you had was gone and never coming home to you. The least you could do was try to find the justice to be brought by your own hands.

"Nah, man..." One of the men–a blonde, high-tech worker from the east side of town–shook his head. "We can't go there. They've got cameras all over the place! Ain't no way we are gettin' out free."

"Well then we go downtown and hit one alongside the river. We'll set up a boat and get us to Brooklyn before they can even suspect anyone was there," another collaborator said. Blondie shook his head determined.

"You think Spider-Girl isn't gonna be waitin' for us?" He scoffed, scuffing his shoes against the pavement. You perched straighter as you peered down. Spider-Woman. It was Spider-Woman.

“She got Mikey last week, Simon two days ago… we don’t have much left and if you think robbin’ fuckin’ Wall Street is gonna save us, you’re wrong.”

A sensible criminal with blood on his hands. Nice.

“Besides, they got the police captain on her ass and while they’re out lookin’ for her, they won’t sweat the small stuff,” blondie pulled a black ski mask from his jacket.

“It’s now or never,” he slipped it on and walked to the door of the bodega on the corner. He held out his hand as if his friend was actually a true friend and not a piece to his own networked puzzle.

Your stomach turned and the sight made your spine tingle.

Outside on the sidewalk of the street in the rain of New York City, the two men who were left of the dirty dozen walked into the grocer with no intention to buy anything.

It hadn’t dawned on you that as you dropped to the pavement, you weren’t wearing your suit or mask.

The hub was quiet.

In this slick world, everything was silver and green and the headquarters were no different — yet too different for Peter to know that he wasn’t from this universe and always felt out of place.

A picture on desk that wasn’t his grounded him to a separate reality; one of love and hope and a small child’s laughter.

Spider-Byte’s was typing away on the keys beside him while he tapped away on the table top.

Nothing exciting had happened since the… glitch. It had been a long nine months without the glue that had put him back together.

That was until Spider-Byte’s computer started beeping in a manic fashion. It was a sound neither of them had heard before. A high pitched siren blaring loudly from a machine the the left of Peter, a button glowing red and flashing.

“Uh,” Peter pointed to the button, “you got any clue what that’s about?”

Spider-Byte shook her head as she pulled up a database on a screen. Her tech hands glided over the keys like music, fluid and fast and working with a purpose.

“Some system Miguel’s got here,” she muttered and Peter attempted to cover the small speaker beside the button with his hand—it didn’t work.

“Where is he? He said he’d be right back and now we’re facing the end of the wor—“

“I doubt this is the end of the world, Peter!” Spider-Byte cut him off harshly. “Now would you be useful and go find Miguel?”

As the dutiful Spider-Person he was, Peter rushed out of the central lair and into the bright white halls of the headquarters. Everyone he passed he asked the same question:

“Hey! You’ve seen Miguel anywhere?”

“Yo! Seen the big man around?”

He slid up to a group of variant Julia Carpenters as they sipped on coffee in the cafeteria. Peter gave them a sly smirk, trying to be cool, and snapped his fingers.

“Have any of you seen the boss today? Looking fine as usual.”

Synchronized, the Julia’s pointed to the empanada station and sure as shit, there was Miguel, talking with the vender who yes, just happened to also be a Spider-Man.

“Miguel!” Peter screeched from the table and Miguel’s mind went soured. A violent jolt to his instincts as the new father came barreling toward him.

“¡At no…!” Miguel mumbled to himself as Peter skidded to a halt, dropping his hand on Miguel’s shoulder with a clunk.

“Hey, Boss! Whatcha… watcha doin’ out here?” Peter chuckled nervously and Miguel narrowed his eyes. “You said you’d be right back.”

“I did,” Miguel drawled. “I told you five minutes and it’s only been three, Peter.”

Peter laughed, glancing around the space as confused gazes began to pick up on the pebbles of sweat that dripped from his temple.

“Oh! You don’t say?”

“What’s so impo—“ Miguel began but never finished. Lyla appeared out of thin air with a casual urgency unlike Peter’s frantic one.

“We’ve got a doozy here for ya, boss.”

With Lyla, everything came to life smoothly. As she snapped her fingers, holograms of screens appeared like magic and on them, an un-masked, Spider-Woman was beating the shit out of thieves in a bodega.

“Jesus,” Peter whispered to himself.

“He doesn’t come here,” Miguel replied without a smile nor a chuckle but it took Peter back.

Miguel was watching the woman carefully. This Spider-Woman was not apart of the society and was actively doing what no Spider-Person should do. However, Miguel knew the actions. He felt them deep within his bones and the mistakes he had made as a newly minted Spider-Man 2099.

“Name’s Y/n L/n… a former nurse who got mixed up in a bad batch of blood for a transfusion. This isn’t the first time we’ve been alerted about her,” Lyla debriefed and Miguel snapped.

“What do you mean, ‘not the first time?’”

“These are a group of men she’s been targeting. It’s got to do with her,” Lyla cleared her throat that was nonexistent, “canon event.”

“We have to bring her in,” Miguel began walking away from Peter and Lyla followed. “I am NOT having some vigilante shit show up on this doorstep. Peter, get Jess, brief her and get a day pass to bring along.”

“Miguel,” Peter wagered, “what if this is associated with her canon? What if she’s just an anti-hero in her world?”

“She’s not,” Lyla piped back in. “She’s a hero, hero. And this isn’t part of her canon event. You’ve gotta know how grief moves people?”

Miguel grunted, Peter sighed.

“Get Jess. I’ll wait for you,” Miguel pushed on Peter’s shoulder to send him the other way.

Once alone and down the winding halls near the center of the headquarters, Lyla spoke again perched on Miguel’s shoulder.

“Miguel, I think there’s something you should know?”

“Know what, Lyla?” Miguel’s attitude had always been sour—she had been there from his creation and it never changed. He never truly smiled, he never truly laughed.

Miguel O’Hara was a tough nut to crack in a world full of people who lived off joy and laughter.

But she could feel the sensations radiating off of him. Those strident lines of afflictions that were masked by the way he covered his face. The tense nature of his shoulders as he walked further and further away but closer to a person he’d never thought to face again.

It felt like an intrusion all over again.

“You know what, Lyla?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” she defended, hologramed hand squeezing his shoulder. “But there are a million Peter’s and Gwen’s and MJ’s out there.”

“This isn’t her,” Miguel huffed. “She would never do this.”

“But she is, Miguel… and her canon event is you.”

“So a possible disruption?”

“It’s already happened,” Lyla explained, giving immediate explanation to your actions. Miguel did not know you in this way, but he could imagine why such feelings would manifest in violence.

“Good, good.”

Lyla scoffed, hopping to her feet. “I wouldn’t say it’s ‘good,’ boss. You died in her world. You were married in her world. I think she’s gonna wanna slap you for even existing in another timeline.”

“Why?” Miguel quirked a brow. “You know her or something? Keeping secrets from me now?”

To save her, Peter and Jess entered the lair with their bands glowing. Lyla simply shrugged and disappeared before they jumped into an Earth that would feel like they own but be nothing like it.

“Miguel," Jess was already shaking her head. Three months pregnant and still doing work, both Peter and Miguel would not be surprised if the child arrived wearing a suit of their own. "There's no anomaly there–there hasn't been a case in that world of a villain glitching from another."

"It's not about the bad guys," Miguel walked toward them to meet them in the middle. "What she's doing no Spider-Person has done before and what's the purpose of a society if we don't help one of our own?"

Lyla appeared between the three ready to open the portal.

"One last thing, folks!" She walked around casually glowing and pushed up her heart shaped glasses to her hairline. "She's not wearing her suit - so if you don't work fast, her identity will be known to the public and well! We just can't have that, can we?"

"Fantastic!" Peter complained as Miguel opened up the portal. "They are a bit suffocating really, if you asked me."

"Well we didn't," Miguel gruffed.

"What's her name? Just Spider-Woman?" Jess asked. "Should we just yell 'Hey! Spider-Woman! Stop it! You're actually a good person!'"

"Y/n. Her name is Y/n and don't freeze up when you see her, alright bud? Alright! See you all when you get back! Have fun!" Lyla waved, patting Miguel's leg as she walked the floor and disappeared once more.

Stretching out his legs, Peter did not miss the glare Miguel gave Lyla. His eyes cold and hardened; he knew so little of this leader but felt he knew so much. Miguel wasn't like the other Spider-People and well, he assumed perhaps you were not either.

Peter missed that he should have recognized your name.

He had been there with Miguel when the other world collapsed.

"Anything else you wanna tell us, boss?" He pushed. Miguel shook his head and slipped on his mask in more ways than one.

"She's disturbing her own canon by going rogue. I'm not going to let her destroy it because she's... upset."

Jess laughed and Miguel was indignant. "If she's a bad egg, she's a bad egg, Miguel. You can't save everyone."

"She's not a bad one!" Miguel scolded her, pointing out toward the darkness of the portal. "She's not supposed to do this and we need to fix this! Y/n is good!"

Peter smirked, wiggling his brows. He could sense Miguel's anger muddled with a nervous fear he never had. "Y/n, Miguel... first name basis already and we haven't even met her. You move fast, don't you?"

"Oh, you are so fucking annoying! She was my wife!"

Peter's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Oh no! Not again, nope!"

"She doesn't exist in this world anymore, Peter," Earth 928, "and in another timeline, she's taken the mantle."

Jess jutted her hip out as the whirring of the portal loomed over them. "So you exist in her's too then? This won't be too confusing. It's just like Peter and MJ or Gwen in the thousands of realities that exist."

"Sure, sure," Miguel said. "But there are only three realities where she exists and," he cleared his throat as he looked down the portal, "this is the last one left."

"We shouldn't risk it. We can't collapse another world."

"We won't collapse it."

"How do you know that?" Peter questioned. There was always a level of selfishness when it came to those someone loved most.

"I just... I just know! You're not in charge here, Peter. If I don't have any hesitations right now, then neither can you."

"Well then," Peter strutted through the portal and turned around before his body was completely gone, "Let's go get us another Spidey then, yeah?"

And he saluted Miguel and Jess before jumping in.

"You've been monitoring her world?" Jess asked and Miguel looked to his feet. She had never seen him so bashful. Never one to make a scene of rash emotional actions, the causation would need

"I watch over many worlds."

"Yeah but come on," She dug, "this is a lot different than those worlds. You know her."

"I don't know her," Miguel defended himself and took a step further into the portal. "She isn't my wife. She's just a version of her that I don't know."

"Mhm," Jess hummed and drummed on her arm as they remained crossed from the moment Miguel said you were his wife. "Let's go meet her then. Then you can go on and on about how she's everything you remember but not the same."

And she walked through the portal before she disappeared to leave Miguel alone.

With clenched fists, Miguel breathed in deep and appeared in a reality he promised never to interfere with.

Inside of the bodega, the two men bartered with one another in the aisle. They looked to be two friends having a conversation in the middle of the shop but their intentions were not pure.

The bell above the door rang as you entered. Shoulders and hair wet from the rain, the cashier paid you no mind as he changed the station on his portable radio sat on the counter.

There were three civilians inside. One, the cashier who was oblivious and that is the sole reason these thugs decided to hit the bodega. An 'easy' target to get in and out. Two, a woman who was going grey at her temples. And three, a teenage kid with untied sneakers.

You ducked behind a shelf as you watched them in the aisle beside you. Between the chips and pretzels they concocted their idiotic plan in the presence of innocent people as they always did–it was how their bank robbery disaster went sideways six months ago.

When civilians are present, one of them will always try and become the hero. It is what Miguel did and now he's six feet under in a cold box.

"Excuse me, Miss," the older woman pointed to the bag of chips that your hand was resting on. She turned your attention away from the men. "Could I get one of those? I don't mean to be a–"

The men began to make their moves and you were distracted by the woman. She had kind eyes. Easy and familiar and a familial feeling to them as she waited patiently for you to move.

"Yes, yes," you replied as you got out of her way. "Sorry."

You didn't know why you apologized. Maybe you felt sorry she found herself in this bodega at an hour such as this.

"No worries, dear." The boy wasn't far from her either. He was shuffling through a freezer looking for a drink that wasn't there.

As she grabbed onto the bag, the radio dropped to the floor and turned off. It startled everyone inside and the cashier filled the silence with his desperate pleas.

"Oh my," his jaw chattered, "please... I don't have anything.... I-I-I I've gotta lot of student lo-o-oans and I really n-need this job."

He was staring into a silver barrel of a gun by the hands of the blonde who orchestrated everything. The older woman screeched behind you and the freezer door slammed shut with a "oh hell no!" following its thud.

You imagined the fear they felt was the same Miguel felt that day. Sitting there, hostage on the bank floor with a check to cash from his mother for his birthday.

The check was in evidence splattered with his blood.

In the neon light of the bodega, you made a choice to never let that happen again.

The cashier kept muttering whole-hearted pleas and the friend reached over the counter to open the register's drawer but it was locked.

"Unlock it!" Blondie ordered, shaking the gun closer and closer to the cashier who looked close to wetting himself. Behind you, the older woman crouched to the floor began praying to herself.

"Unlock it now, you son-of-a-bitch! You wanna end up on the floor? Open it!"

The cashier, who now you realized had a name badge on that read 'Max', began to reach for the keys that were hooked onto the counter.

Fear in his eyes, anticipation in theirs, anger in yours.

Anger always caused the tides to turn.

You reached your hand forward in a quick motion and the web that released itself from your wrist snatched the keys from the hook. Max flew backwards in a jolt of despair and the barrel was soon pointed at you.

"Oh you have got to be kidding!" Blondie screeched and fired a shot. He missed. It was sent right into a chip bag and exploded them all over the floor. You tossed the keys to the older woman and went for the gun.

Like child's play, the gun flew across the bodega and into your palm to be crushed like a piece of fruit. It was still hot from being fired and its pieces crumbled to the floor.

"What the fuck–" the woman stuttered.

"So," Blondie spoke and you hated his tone. Condescending and mighty. "Spider-Woman has a face..."

This friend pulled a bracelet from his pocket that lit up green. It glowed as brightly as the neon signs in the window blurred by the rain.

"She does," you replied. "And it will be the last face you see."

He laughed. They always did. It was an inescapable pattern of dealing with enemies who thought they would win. They never did, and they all thought the same way.

"Is that so? I would really hate to have the Bugle's headline to read: Spider-Woman killed innocent civilians at the 6th street Bodega." He let out a series of tisks with a shake of his head. "Who knew heroes could be so bad?"

He looked to his friend. "Herman..."

The friend, Herman, locked eyes on you and approached quickly and with a heavy hand charging with the green of the gauntlet. You could hearing the whirring and the loading of the power.

Instead of moving out of the way, you turned and pushed the older woman away. She slid on the slick floor into a corner with her bag of chips still in her hand.

The shock hit you with a staggering power. It blew you backwards into an ice freezer in the back of the store. As you landed on the ground, the woman whimpered in the corner and the boy caught your eye underneath a table by the restrooms.

He couldn't have been more than fifteen.

And he wasn't going to die today.

So, you got back on your feet and brushed off your jacket. The residual sting of the shock began to wear off and the men looked at you with a challenge.

"Who knew fighting the Spider would have been so easy?" Blondie laughed. "Where were you when we started? It would have been a much more fair fight."

"Busy," you spat.

"Huh," he hummed with a nod of his head. It was like he was trying to clock you–the way his eyes squinted and he tilted his head just a bit higher than it normally would have been. "Say, have we met before?"

"I'm sure I would remember. This is certainly a pleasurable encounter."

Blondie didn't let the words sting. You weren't a Spider who stung with a bite.

"I've seen your face before..."

"Maybe I just have one of those faces," you quirked a brow and Herman charged his gauntlet again. "Is this the worst you can do? Threaten a few innocents and have your friend do all the work? What happened to real criminals, huh?"

"Funny," he walked like a villain. Hands in his pockets, shoes scuffing the floor. "I've heard that one before." His mind raked the last time he heard that.

"Well it must say something about you then."

Herman went to shock again and you shot a web at him. He went soaring into a wall, head hitting it hard.

"I know!" He snapped his fingers like a lightbulb went off inside. Clarity now in a world filled of unclear ways. "I've seen your picture before."

"So what?" You matched his movements as he moved toward the center of the store. Every tight aisle blocked your view like a shutter.

"'Is this the worst you can do?' Someone told me that a short time ago. A man who tried to get in my way."

Miguel.

He was at the bank. He had his check ready, he was at the counter. Miguel had his wallet out and prepared.

He had a photo in his wallet.

"And I think you know how that turned out for him. But here's the thing, Spider-Woman... I don't hate the idea of having that same fate met you tonight. I imagine being so deep underneath the ground it gets a little lonely."

He stopped at the center, so did you.

"I think it's time for you to join him."

But all you saw was red.

There was an intense pulsing pressure inside of the bodega. You weren't sure how much time had passed as your fist dug deeper and deeper into the man who spoke too much and had little to act upon.

Whimpers of those left inside were deferred. The begging of his friend fell on deaf ears.

In the corner beside the three civilians–the woman, teen, and cashier–a glowing hexagonal portal opened to the dimension in which they lived. It hummed like a freezer and moved like something from the cinema they watched last year but instead of aliens appearing from the abyss, three people emerged no different than the way they walked.

They were people, human. Three Spider-People in a world that already had a Spider-Woman.

In their perspective the heroes were welcome. They were terrified and huddled within one another as one robber was webbed to the wall and the other was being beaten to a pulp by a woman with super-human strength.

"Peter," Miguel motioned to the civilians in the corner, "get 'em out of here."

The humble servant Peter was, he acted quickly. His nervous high-pitched voice soothing their fears with panic and disbelief that three masked people walked through a portal as though it was any other day.

"Get the man down, Jess," Miguel pointed to the guy webbed to the wall. Jess tipped her head to the side with an amused, sly grin on her face as he wept. Chick's a badass, she thought.

A violent one at the moment, albeit, but a badass nonetheless.

Fist hovered in the air, you went rigid as the sensations coursed through you. A striking feeling that felt more like a severe headache that came on too quickly, the immense pressure your body suddenly took on wasn't unfamiliar.

You had felt them before. It happened when something in the air changed. When something you knew could disappear or when time was suddenly running short. There was no term for it nor did any other person in this world feel what you felt.

The man below you gurgled. It was, just like the sensation, a sound that awoken something within you. It cleared the vision from red to reality and suddenly the harsh lighting of the bodega and the reflections of the neon signs on the linoleum filled in the edges.

"Shit," you stammered as your grip on his body lessened with every second.

Those consistent strums of radiating itching went from the top of your head to the base of your skull. A humming in the distance turned into a whirring sound that was too extraneous to come from a small place such as this one.

In an instant, the aluminum window covers were pulled from the ceiling by a pair of red, glowing lines reminiscent of webs. It shut out the outside world and the rain that had been pouring down for hours. The neon lights no longer reflected themselves on the flooring.

A hero, a villain... at some point those had all become the same to you.

The ideas that propelled them to act were all based in something that made them feel passionate enough to target an opposing force. When a hero turns to the fragmented middle of the road and balances the line of enemy and friend, the revelations of such shame grow from a deeper place of pain.

"Let him go."

The voice in your head sounded so much like Miguel.

And once your senses stopped going wild, your heart lept into your throat at the thought.

You buried him. You buried him six feet under.

The door to the bodega's alley opened and closed.

"Come on," the voice said again, "let him go and we can clean up this mess."

"Stop," you mumbled, shutting your eyes as your fists clenched the man's jacket harder. The one that had been in the air dropped to his chest. It was wet with the mixture of sweat and blood.

"Stop it please. Please stop it."

"Those civilians are gonna go get the police," his voice was low. It was that kind of voice that Miguel would use to talk you down from a nightmare–or maybe what this dimension had made you.

"And when they get here, what do you think they're gonna do when they see you sittin' over him?"

"Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking–" you repeated again and again. A thud in the distance set the blonde's friend on the floor and a web kept him in place once more.

"Boss they're gonna take her," another voice, not one you had ever head before filled the room and suddenly you were terrified that it wasn't voices you were hearing in your head. "We gotta bring her back with us."

"Alright! Three darling innocents saved again by, you guessed it," a far too cheerful voice added to the collection, "me."

You were curled into yourself over the blonde. Peter saw a woman, not dressed in a traditional uniform, use her powers for bad. But he saw the destruction of the man and knew that it wasn't from sheer wickedness.

He had seen you care so much before. It had to come from a place of caring.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "this is... a lot." And then he blanched.

"Jess," Miguel motioned to your static figure. He turned around and walked away as if to say 'you got it.'

There was an inflection in his voice that made Jess bristle. She hated the tone; removed and vacant. He was already living a humorless existence and the idea that this dimension made you act this way fractured himself in a new way.

"You heard him," Peter went scouring the aisles, plucking a bag of dried beef from a shelf to shove his mouth with. "You got this!" He gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

So, Jess had this.

She didn't crouch down. She didn't attempt to place a hand on your shoulder or help clean off your hands.

Jess kneeled on the other side of the man and your distant eyes met hers to know you weren't alone. You weren't alone in your pain and you certainly weren't alone in this world.

Your first thought was that she was pretty. Your second thought was that this woman was pregnant and that made you sad.

"Looks like you've gotten yourself in a bit of a mess," she spoke quietly but acted quickly. She placed her fingers on the pulse of the man.

He was breathing.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Jess."

"Jess," you repeated, "and Jess comes from...?"

She saw your lip tremble, eyes welling with tears. Jesus, she thought, she wasn't ready to be a mother if she couldn't deal with a thirty-something spider-woman who happened to be Miguel's wife in three different dimensions.

"Earth–404."

"Earth?"

"You felt that, right?" She motioned to her head, mimicking a tingling sensation with her fingertips. You nodded.

"Well, a lot of us have it... and I mean people like you and me... and I know it makes no sense, but if you can fight mutant enemies, maybe you can imagine there are other worlds out there."

"Like planets?" You sniffed and your hands began to shake. Everything bubbling to the surface of pain and anger. "You're from another planet?"

"Not really, but kinda, sure," she agreed for your sake.

"And your friends?"

"Different planets too."

You breathed in a shaking breath. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the sirens begin to blare. It may have been 10 blocks or 6 blocks, but they were coming and they were coming in fast.

"Now," Jess cleared her throat, "it looks like you've gotten yourself in a little situation that needs a bit of help."

Jess was the most sympathetic she had ever been. The way your hands shook, your tiredness expanded beyond you. Maybe it was the fact she knew what made you go off the deep end that made her feel more thoughtful.

"They, um-"

"It's ok," Jess said and didn't let you finish. "We just need to get you somewhere safe, ok? Me and my friends can help you."

The sheen in your eyes was cloudy. Face wet and brushed with splatter of a man who was not yours, there was a lifeline to get you out of here and you had to take it.

You shook your head softly before it became more frantic. "I don't have anyone to go to... I don't have anyone."

"You do," her hand hovered over the man's body as Peter came back and lowered himself beside Jess. "You're gonna have a whole group behind you if you let us help."

"We'll get you all cleaned up and then introduce you. There is a whole universe of us out there."

"Us?"

"Spider-People?" He questioned, brows furrowed. Jess hadn't been explicit.

"A society," she drew back from Peter. "Like myself and Peter," indirectly introducing him, "and you and–" she stopped short.

"And you want me there?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "I mean, we could use some more badass Spider-Women around."

"But I–"

"Don't worry about all this, alright? We all have our moments."

Peter reached out his hand for you to take. There was a certain level of hesitancy you felt; perhaps it was a trick or maybe you were trapped in another nightmare. But Peter gave a small smile. He gave off a warmth that Jess had exuded and made you nearly forget that there were three voices and not their two.

You took Peter's hand.

The man was breathing, he would live even if he didn't deserve to. The sirens were no more than 3 blocks away.

"You gonna need one of these," Jess held out her hand to reveal a rubber bracelet.

"A day pass," she explained, "to help you adjust."

"Adjust?"

"It's better to ask fewer questions," Peter scrunched his face. "Less confusion for you."

You slipped on the bracelet.

"We good here?"

It was that voice again, the one from the back of your head.

"We gotta go. Time is ticking."

Except this voice wasn't the back of your head now that you've realized there were others in this bodega. As you rose from the floor and began walking as Jess led the way, the friend was passed out on the floor and a glowing hexagonal portal was lingering in the back of the store.

The sounds, the sensations... it meant something.

"All good, Boss. The robbers will live."

The man in the blue suit–from what you could tell–nodded and looked in your direction but said nothing. There was something in your body that was sending alarm bells to your mind but you ignored them.

They weren't like the sensations you had felt before. These were different in a way you couldn’t explain.

“Right let’s, ah,” he hesitated as his hands rested on his hips. You looked at him and he looked away. “Get moving then.”

“What’s going to happen when I go through that thing?” You pointed to the portal.

He didn’t look at you. He couldn’t look at you. All he saw was his wife who used to laugh at his corny jokes and rest her head on his shoulder in bed. He saw, in one dimension, the mother of his child and he saw a happy, generous nurse who loved her job.

But when he looked at you know, part of that image was shattered.

You were a little bit broken and a little bit worn down by the world you lived in. You had blood-splattered clothing and tear stained cheeks and it was enough to make his heart ache more than it already did.

“It will pop you out just where we want you,” Peter said as he took a step into the portal and his body began to glitch with the moving sphere around him. “Just walk in and it will do the rest.”

“And it’s safe?”

“So far, yeah!” And he ran off before he disappeared.

“I’ll see you there, alright?” Jess turned to you, then looked at Blue before giving a smile that was as flat as a dead man’s heart beat.

She walked in just as suave as she came.

Suddenly, it was just the two of you and it felt strange.

There were so many feelings lingering that you couldn’t grasp onto. The air was comfortable but hesitant; there was a barrier of distrust and burden, but one that itched to reach out a hand to help.

“You know,” you sniffed back a chuckle, “I half thought I was crazy for a second.”

“About what?” He asked. “The fact that you almost killed a man or the portals? Both are equally crazy.”

In any other circumstance you would have thought he was being sarcastic.

You shook your head. You were beginning to feel the weight of your actions.

“I thought I heard voices… a voice in my head.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” you glanced at the portal.

A lull. The whirring of the portal, the sounds of police cars went mute when you looked back. Blue was looking at you but you couldn’t see his eyes. You couldn’t see a thing and indeed, you didn’t know his name.

Blue.

Miguel’s favorite color was blue.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly. “For coming here. I think I’m still a bit shell-shocked,” you laughed and he knew you were, “but maybe I was waiting for this… I don’t know.”

“It’s our job.”

Blue was done with the conversation at that point. He walked to the portal, his body glitching just like Peter and Jess’s did.

“Come on,” he motioned to you.

“What’s your name? The other two—they introduced themselves.”

“Spider-Man.”

“That’s not your name.”

He let out a huff. “You wanna be caught by the police? Fine.” He began walking again and the glitching became more erratic.

“Who’s to say you’re all not some group of aliens trying to kidnap me? At least the other two looked like me!”

His patience too was skating on thin ice.

“Come on, kid, let’s go.”

Maybe you weren’t crazy.

“What did you just say?”

He turned his body back to you and walked out of the portal. On the precipice of where you stood just beyond and where he did, he towered over you.

“I’m giving you a chance here. You come with me now or you’re dead here.”

“Kid. You said ‘kid.’ Why did you say that? Why did you say I was a kid?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, let’s go.” Like a rhythmic pattern, he turned back around.

“I’m not crazy. I know I’m not fucking crazy.” You sure as hell looked it. “Why did you say kid? Who told you to call me kid?”

“No one—“

A sudden banging on the door to the bodega caught the attention left in the room. Blondie started to gurgle, you stood steadfast, and Blue was agitated.

You took a step into the portal. Progress.

“Nobody calls me kid, no one. Why won’t you tell me your name? Who the hell are you people? Who are you?”

“We don’t have time for this!” The way he said your name that followed was one you had heard a million times.

It was just like Miguel used to say.

“Take off your mask.” You demanded and stepped further again.

“Take off your fucking mask or I’m stepping out of this goddamn thing and going to prison.”

The police began to feverishly hit the glass with their batons.

“Take it off,” you begged, “please. Please let me see you.”

And how could he say no to his wife who begged so mercilessly?

There was a time where you replayed that moment over and over in your mind.

You could still feel the way your breath caught in your chest. An immense wave of emptiness washed from you and filled with a jittery dismay that had no outlet.

His eyes were no different; the way his lips sat and his brow furrowed.

You felt the silent shed of tears mask your face before the glass breaking set Miguel moving toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the portal.

His touch was the same.

And when he opened his mouth, what he sounded like was different from what he said and you were quick to realize that this Miguel was not your Miguel.

This Miguel despised people who lived happy lives.

This Miguel was mean and callous and demanding

This Miguel worked beyond reasonable hours and made being a Spider-Man his life’s purpose.

That was not your Miguel.

There was no making sense in that moment. You either believed it or you didn't and if you didn't, then they'd drop you back off in a world that had your face plastered on wanted posters and big screens in the middle of the city.

So you made sense of it and made some semblance of life within the four walls of the Spider Society headquarters with the Grade A asshole known as Miguel O'hara – not your husband.

The grief of that worked in waves. It came and went when life continued to move. It was strange to think that what brought you here, to this future, occurred one year ago.

Sat by a window looking out into an Earth that was not yours, you swung your legs as those thoughts crossed your mind. The chatter of a thousand Spider-people filled the space around you.

A thud sounded on the beam a few feet from you. Soft, nearly mute shoes tapping their way beside you. Green. The color of artificial grass in a children's playset, nearly blue.

"Watcha doing?"

There was never a moment of peace here. But you closed you eyes, sighed and a smile quirked on your lips.

"You daydreaming? I wonder what it's like out there..." Gwen Stacy joined the Spider-Society three months ago. "It looks so... contempo."

"Contempo? Where did you hear that?"

"I read you know," she tipped her head up in mock offense. "Kids do read when they're in school."

"Yeah, yeah," you brushed her off.

"So... what are you up to today? I was thinking we could monitor the dimensions with Jess and maybe catch a bad guy or two–" Gwen's fists mimicked boxing, "–and then Peter said he'd bring Mayday around–"

"Slow down," you chuckled. "I am up to nothing, thanks for asking and if that's what you want, sure."

Her eyes lit up when on most days they didn't.

"Really!?"

"Mhm, yeah, sure."

"Great!" Gwen got to her feet and wrung her hands. "Jess was in the control center so–"

"Control center?"

Gwen hummed, hands clasping behind her back comically.

"Yep! Just... chillin' by a screen. You know, she's got that baby on the way and all so we thought it'd be best to keep her inside for the time being and she doesn't like that but she said–" Gwen went on and on as the words came pouring out.

"Gwen."

"–that she would rather die than have to sit here and watch screens all day. I told Peter she would hate it and he agreed with me but sometimes he brings–"

"Gwen."

"–Mayday around just to cheer us up that we haven't gone on that many missions and its always well... you know... and we feel like we can't do anything to help out sometimes–"

"Gwen!" You shouted at her. She stopped her rambling; blue eyes wide and ears listening. "Just... take a breath, alright?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"You don't have to be sorry," a sharp breath steadied you. "I'm not going to go with you to the control room."

"Please," she begged. You imagined this is what it was like having a teenage daughter who wanted the most unattainable of things. "I promise it will be fine! Miguel's not even there so you don't have to worry about what he said last time!"

"That was three days ago, Gwen!"

"So what!?"

The last time was three days ago.

Ever since you arrived, it had been nothing but anger and hostility pushed toward you from him but you were not easy on him either. It was hard facing a piece of your past that had every connection but no foundation at the same time.

Earth 9591 was in ruins and the screens replayed the horrors of the people over and over. It was desolate. Earth was crumbling in on itself and a medieval Rhino had found itself in the mess as Earth 9591 Peter was on his last leg.

According to Miguel, this Peter was supposed to experience this.

"We can't just let him die, Miguel," you argued as he stood up on his platform above you and Peter. "There is a chance he could live and we're reducing him to nothing because of his goddamn canon?"

"We can't mess with it, you know that." Miguel's patience was running thin. "Every time we can't interfere you come here with the same argument and the answer is always no. It will always be no."

"Why?" You pushed. Sometimes just seeing his face now made you mad. The questions of why this Miguel got to live when your's didn't was something that constantly simmered within you.

"You plucked me from my Earth and brought me here so why can't we do that for him? He'd be healthy and safe here."

"This is supposed to happen to him," he huffed your name as he turned back to the screens. "Not every battle is going to be one that Spider-Man wins and if we mess with it, we threaten that whole dimension."

"Well it sure as hell looks like it's in a bit of trouble, boss," Peter let out a nervous chuckle.

"And so it is."

"But what of Rhino, hm?" He hated the way you rose your eyebrows in question. Every version of you did that. "That's not supposed to be his fate."

"One less villain we have to worry about."

You let out a frustrated groan. "When did you become so heartless? We save people here, Miguel. We don't let them suffer."

"I'm not heartless. I'm being realistic and the fact is that 9591 Peter isn't gonna live and his world will become uninhabitable. That is part of his canon, end of story."

"So my canon said to bring me here?" You asked, hands on your hips. Peter inched backwards from you because he could feel the rumblings of the volcano bubbling.

"Take me from my home and bring me here for what? To have another person go along with every decision you make? Newsflash, Miguel, that's not going to happen."

"Oh, really?" He laughed, sarcastically, and looked down at you from above.

"Yes, really. Maybe this canon bullshit is just that, bullshit. Maybe you made a mistake–"

"I didn't make a mistake," he defended loudly. "I am not letting other worlds get destroyed because of stupid decisions."

"So it's only a stupid decision when it's a reality that we both exist in?"

If Peter hadn't known any better this would have sounded like a fight between a married couple.

"That's not what I said," Miguel brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and squeezed. "We can't go around making those same mistakes. I am not putting any other lives in danger."

"But you did it when it benefitted you."

Miguel mumbled to himself up there. You couldn't hear. Peter took more steps back and Spider-Byte ducked behind her consul. Miguel's brown mop of hair slicked back with the motion of his hand.

"Well you would've liked that world too."

"I liked the one I was from."

God, some days he really disliked you.

At the same time, when Miguel looked down at you, he saw the wife he knew in a different capacity and it sent his mind spiraling. He didn't sleep, he barely took the time to care for himself because all he could think about was the dimensions of happiness that you both had and the one you've both found yourselves in now.

He hated that he loved the body of the woman he knew but couldn't fully trust the version of you that existed now.

"We're not going."

"Miguel,"

He lept from the platform and onto the level you stood on. Still as large as before, his shadow filled your space before he did and for some ungodly reason, the presence of this Miguel made your heart pump furiously as your husband had.

Miguel had that look in his eyes that made them appear red. Fist clenched at his sides and that same lingering sadness emitting from his person.

"Not another word."

He hated the challenge you took from him.

"Why is it ok that you took me from my dimension? To serve some sick purpose of remembering your wife?" You spat at him.

You were just like her... just a little more broken.

"I'm not her, Miguel."

"You think I don't know that?" His voice was nearly caught in his throat. "You think I don't know that you're not her? It's pretty goddamn obvious you're not her."

"Oh yeah?" Your voice was no different.

You hated when you fought with Miguel in your dimension and that didn't change in this one.

Peter thought he should look away.

"Well she's not here, is she?"

Miguel stared at you. He couldn't help the way his eyes moved over your face. He saw the same eyes, nose, and lips. You were his wife just as he was your husband.

"No," he said as a ghostly whisper, "she's not."

"And maybe I'm not like her but you're not like my Miguel either... so don't make this fall on me. I didn't ask to come here."

"You're here now," Miguel's voice was devoid of feeling. "So get used to the rules. We're not going."

And he stalked off with Peter following on his tail.

If you closed your eyes you could see fragments of Miguel. Now, however, this Miguel was beginning to eclipse those memories.

"Shit..." Spider-Byte snickered from behind her monitor. Her blue glow filling your vision as you looked at her. "I wouldn't take that, mama. I'd kick his ass."

Miguel wasn't there. He was off saving a dimension because canon was all that mattered and Jess was monitoring that other universes just as Gwen had said.

It was a relief.

So, you sat back and watched as Jess and Gwen flipped through the different footage from the dimensions that either lit up red for an anomaly or maintained green for a perfect balance.

Jess flipped through them quickly. Every world passing by your face within a second of seeing the light on the panel turn green. The few instances of red sent her pressing on a communication button before Gwen could complain that she wanted to go out and fight.

Gwen lingered on worlds. She looked at the images as though she wished to be a part of them.

She hesitated moving on from a boy in a black suit just a second too long.

"Gwen?" You asked her as her hand hovered over the button. She was intently looking at him as he moved about the fire escape.

"Gwen?" You reached out a hand to shake her shoulder. She bristled out of her spell and pressed the button before you could ask any questions.

It would be several months later that you'd learn that the boy was the source of it all.

Miles Morales had heard a million versions of the same story.

It all began with a name and that named person being bit by a radioactive spider that magically gave them powers and they used them to save the world, or fight street crime, or kill mice (in the case of that Spider-Cat he saw in the lobby).

They were all the friendly, neighborhood hero that the world needed.

Until the collider messed with their functions and required a society such as this to take on a much larger purpose.

And Miles was taken aback.

He had never felt so seen sans the moment he walked through the doors of the complex. Every turn he made, a new Spider-Person was uniquely fit into their world so different than his own.

Within the chamber of villains from other dimensions, he saw a Spider-Woman without a suit.

"So people like, live here?" Miles asked Gwen who shrugged.

"Some do. We can stay for as long as we like and then go back to our dimensions when we need to."

"And suits are optional?"

Hobie turned around and gave Miles as questionable gaze.

"A uniform is binding, man," he told Miles. "Use what makes you comfortable."

Gwen nearly galloped ahead to the Spider-Woman with a digital portfolio. Miles saw the way Gwen's eyes lit up just as they did when they saw each other again.

Hobie was the one to introduce you. Your named rolled off his tongue like butter–so casual and cool in a way Miles did not believe he ever could be.

"She lives here," He explained. "Can't really go back to her dimension so she does a lot of cataloguing. The main man doesn't want her out of missions... you know," Hobie spun his finger near his forehead, "little crazy that one."

"I'm not crazy, Hobie," you called out as Gwen pointed toward your group.

"No, you're right," he corrected himself. "He's the crazy one."

"That's more like it," you smiled and Miles felt a boyish crush form in his stomach. "Hi Miles. I've heard a lot about you."

You did. Gwen had been giddy in the way she reminisced about her time with Miles. Even Peter put in his two-cents about the way he trained him and it went incredibly poorly for the greater part of their journey together.

You missed a good chunk of time by not being present when they all converged on the same dimension. It may have saved you from yourself.

"Hi," he waved back nervously.

The party kept walking with your addition. Beyond the orange cells of villains captured and waiting to be returned home, a center of technology he could dream of appeared in front of him.

It was just a tour.

Lyla appeared beside you.

"Miguel's hangry," she complained as she looked at her non-existent nail-beds.

"He's probably just angry."

"No," she shook her bob, "it's the hangry kind. You should have the kid pick up something for him... a gift."

"Gift," you chuckled. Miles looked so green. He was amazed by the technology of the go-home-machine that you weren't sure how he would react when he reached the hub. Walking through all of the test technology before going to Miguel's station... he'd be on cloud nine.

"He'll be expecting the party soon."

"I'll stay behind."

You were certain Miguel would be able to hear this conversation but Lyla had a mind of her own–she was artificial after all.

"You should come with. Miles could use your perspectives."

"What perspectives?" This was the longest conversation you had ever held with her. "Oh, Miles," you mimicked, "don't beat criminals to a pulp... um, don't let your anger get the best of you... don't kill people.... yeah, good advice."

"I meant a motherly figure here."

"I'm not a mother, Lyla. Besides, he's got Jess for that."

Lyla glitched to the other side of you. "Jess hasn't taken to him like she did you and Gwen."

"He's got Peter."

"But he could use you too."

You gave a tight-lipped hum.

"Or," she countered, "maybe you need someone like him. It's always strange what effect kids have on adults... makes them... soft or something. You should see the videos of Miguel!" She laughed, you didn't.

"He liked to play soccer with her."

Her. In another dimension, you had a daughter.

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked her.

She waved her hand dissuasively. "Miguel's not going to, so I might as well."

The party began to make their exit. Down to the liar they went and as they walked, Lyla floated in the air beside you. Miles kept peaking back like a child on a holiday.

"Miles," you called out to him.

"Yes?" He turned around quickly and at attention. He was a cute kid. So nervous and out of his element. If it weren't for his merry misfit group of friends, Miguel was sure to eat him alive.

"Do you have a question or is there a reason you keep looking at me?"

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Miles then pointed to Lyla.

"Is she a Spider-Person too?"

"No," you told him and Lyla glitched to him. "An A.I. that Miguel created. She knows all."

"She flatters me," Lyla murmured back a smile.

Miles turned back around and continued on with his conversation that bounced between Gwen and Hobie. Lyla disappeared from the hallway as the sounds of old, tinkered experiments and Miles' struggles painted a picture of a much different boy in your mind.

While his struggles were not yours and you'd never understand them completely, his want to belong struck a chord with you in a way it did with Gwen.

There was a family that could be built here if the realities of pain could be ignored.

Above on his floating platform, Miguel slowly descended as Miles gaped in a slight awe. Yes, it was dramatic. Yes, it was unnecessary and it made you roll your eyes.

Hobie stuck to the wall in the back. Gwen took Miles to the edge and you leaned up against a pillar not far from Hobie.

"Miguel O'Hara," Gwen introduced, "meet Miles Morales."

And then Miles butchered his introduction with cheer. He offered up those empanadas which Miguel slipped right into the trash.

And like Gwen, he fumbled his words by rambling about how to catch Spot.

Miguel threw the trash can at them both only for Hobie to sneak the empanada out of the box and into his hand without blinking.

And then everything spiraled out of control.

Miguel's meter began to spike an angry red as the frantic nature of his focus within this world had been protecting the multi-verse. Here, in this room, Miles was the supposed source of it.

If it wasn't for Miles, many of his problems wouldn't exist and he'd be grateful but he can't be, simply because they are truly real.

"Hey Miguel!" Peter's voice broke through the silent seconds. Miles perked up at the sound. "Come on, go easy on the kid. He had a terrible teacher. He had no chance."

"Peter!"

The two hugged like old friends.

"Miles!" Peter put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be afraid of my friend Miguel. He just looks scary. He's got no bite."

He had seen it once. He chose to ignore it.

So he went on with his little break up of Miguel's serious moment and you watched unfold from the shadows, the orange glow of your tablet keeping you busy while Mayday swung around the room and Miles exasperatedly came to terms with Peter being a father.

"-You always say the 'fate of the multiverse' and my brain dies."

You chuckled to yourself, glancing up at Peter as he circled Miguel. Miguel was holding Mayday like he had never held a child in his life.

That was the kind of thing your Miguel did.

"You guys smell that?" Peter sniffed into the air. He swiftly picked up Mayday and swung right by Miles and Gwen and straight to you.

"You smell that right?" He held her up high. Yes, yes you did smell that.

"That is entirely your problem, Peter."

"Miles–" Miguel caught their attention again. "–You disrupted a canon event."

"Canon event?"

"The kid wasn't thinking," Peter interjected. He held onto Mayday as you strung a web for her to bounce on. Miguel was half torn between the conversation he tried to be stern about and the watching you weave a web for that little girl.

"That's not how he works."

"That's insulting," Miles commented.

Hobie got up from the floor to stand next to you. He caught Mayday in the air, saluting her with two fingers.

"Taking a crap on the establishment... I salute you."

"What are you upset about?" Miles furrowed his brows as Miguel stepped off the platform and walked towards him. The boy would be amiss if he hadn't felt his stomach drop to his feet in the menacing way Miguel O'Hara walked.

"When isn't he upset about something?" You murmured from the back.

"I saved those people."

Ah, yes. Pavitr's dimension. Miguel had been in the go-home-department when it happened.

"And that's the problem," Miguel clarified. "Lyla, do the thing."

As she always did, Lyla appeared with a semi-oblivious nature.

"Huh? What thing?"

"The thing... what do you mean 'what thing?' The information explaining thing!"

She gave a casual 'ok' and the room changed before you.

You had never seen everything before.

Jess had talked about it, Peter mentioned what it looked like, and a few others who had seen it claimed it left them more confused than anything.

It was a bright blue tree, in a sense. Woven with a variation of color that reminded you of the sea at mid-day and the sky at night, everything was a timeline of complete facts of the world. Every moment of every person's lives were tied to this one branch of 'everything.'

Expansive and high, the tree of everything bloomed over your heads and Miles was the one trying to come to terms with the sincerity of it. However, just as he had begun to grasp the idea of everything being resembled by a tree with branches that diverged from its timeline, the room changed to a red web.

Hundreds and hundreds of webs interconnected by lines that captured the very lives in that room. All of them facing convergence by multiple lifelines to different events, canons, and realities that make up a person's existence in the, as he had coined, the Spider-Verse.

"The lines... where the nodes converge?" Miles asked aloud.

"They are the canon."

Every web around him had different nodes. Some had more than others, some had barely any. He noticed a cluster of three big webs with few canon nodes.

"Their chapters apart of every Spider's story, every time. Some good, some bad... some very bad."

Miguel pulled down a cluster to showcase the very bad. You had a sinking feeling somewhere along the line the 'very bad' also included you.

A row of Spider-People emerged in the same position. He saw Peter, he saw Gwen, he recognized you, and then himself leaning over the body of a loved one who perished too soon.

Like a story, Miguel walked through varied canon events that were to occur in many Spider stories. A police captain, a lover, the event that turns someone into a hero, the struggles of the hero.

Miles looked at each of you as a fragment of your past appeared before him.

"That's how the story is supposed to go. Canon events are the connections that bind our lives together and those connections can be broken that why anomalies are so dangerous. Inspector Singh's death was a canon event."

A police captain.

"You weren't supposed to be there."

Even though you weren't there, you saw it unfold from the safety of Lyla's simulation. People running, a bridge nearly collapsing.

"And you weren't supposed to save him. That's why Gwen tried to stop you."

You could see the gears in his brain turning. He was hurt, misguided in his efforts to be a good Spider-Man because it was suddenly becoming a conflict for him. Miles tried to be good. He tried to save people and even doing so, he seemed to mess up.

It was so different from the Spider-Woman you used to be.

"I thought you were trying to save me," Miles admitted to Gwen who had turned her back from him. She kept her eyes to the ground.

"I was. I-I was doing both," she took a chance to gaze back at him only to see the hurt.

She was just doing her job.

"And now, Miles," Miguel sighed and he walked around the space. He planted his feet beside you and Miles took a glance and couldn't tell who was friend or foe.

He didn't know where he stood himself.

"Because you changed the story, Pavitr's dimension is unraveling. If we're lucky, we can stop it. We haven't always been lucky."

Miguel looked at you. He looked at you with a sheen in his eyes that you'd hadn't see from this version of him. For once, he looked as sad as he felt on the inside.

And for once, he wasn't fighting with you about what was right or wrong in that moment.

"That wasn't me!" Miles defended. "That was the Spot."

"It's what happens when you break canon."

"How do you know?"

"Because I broke it once myself."

There was a part of you that wanted out. You wanted out right that second because you had seen enough. You had seen the destruction, had been part of some destruction, and seeing Miguel's world crumble animatedly in front of you wasn't something you wanted. But your feet stuck to the floor. Planted, like mud, waiting to be freed.

It was your story too and you didn't even know what happened.

"I found another world where I had a family. Where I was happy."

In the web, the cluster of three was connected by one single strand to a much larger web with varied canon events. Whatever this was, Miles imagined, was Miguel's universe.

"At least a version of me was. And that version of myself was killed."

This time trying to catch a thief who stole a woman's purse. Not a bank robbery.

"So I replaced him. I thought it was harmless."

You looked away at the scenes. Miguel with her. A little brown haired girl who loved soccer and he did her homework at the kitchen table with her. A father who looked adoringly at a daughter who was joyous and knew no pain.

"But I was wrong."

Then the world began to collapse. In his arms, the girl disappeared as though she had never existed.

"Isn't that right, Peter?"

Your head shot up towards Peter who looked away from you. He had seen you before, in a different reality where you too were happy with the life you lived and where you were happy with a daughter who loved Miguel too.

"Peter?" You gave a weak call to him. He shut his eyes tightly. "Peter, you knew?"

Miles felt the way you felt. A shell of a hero without a purpose with people who made very choice feel like a mistake.

You walked up to Peter. Miles saw the white-knuckle grip you had on the pink robe. This was more than just friends making choices feel like a mistake.

"You knew me?"

Miles glanced back at the web. The three small webs that had little to them stuck out like a bouquet of flowers. Each their own small story.

“Whose is that?” Miles gestured as he tried to ignore the way you prodded at Peter for answers. Perhaps Miles already knew that Miguel had made this more complicated than it needed to be.

He had already destroyed one reality for happiness. Miles imagined that this man could ruin many more if it meant one more second of living.

“These ones?” Miguel pointed to the web of three.

You knew it was yours without even realizing it.

“That’s mine," you breathed in deep.

Even though you hadn't gotten along in this world, Miguel felt the weight of his secrecy fall heavily onto his shoulders.

“You see, Miles,” Miguel started, “there are infinite dimensions were we exist. All these webs here,” he pointed to the connecting lines that reappeared of many lives, “are realities were someone like you may exist. Maybe not as Spider-Man but as something.”

Miguel looked to you and for the first time since he met you in your reality, he saw the woman he fell in love with.

“And her dimensions look a bit different.”

“Why?” Miles questioned. “Why don’t ours look like that?”

“Because you can exist in infinite realities, Miles,” you told him in a voice that reminded him of his mother telling him a relative died. “And I can’t.”

“There is only three of her that exist in our… Spider-Verse, as you put it,” Miguel stated. “And one of them collapsed.”

In a hologram, he saw you in the world they had all just witnessed disappear from reality. Miles saw you running and running and he could see the destination, Miguel and that child, so close yet too far away.

And then there was nothing.

“Oh,” Miles felt sadness creep within him. Gwen wanted to comfort both you and Miles but couldn’t muster it in front of Miguel.

Peter wasn't sure what to do.

One strand of three disappeared.

“And in the other, she’s not here anymore.”

"What dimension is that?"

Miguel sighed. Hands on his hips, he met Miles' intense stare instead of yours.

"This one."

“So there is only me now,” you have a half-hearted smile.

“I thought you said you were the only Spider-Man in this dimension?” Miles asked Miguel as he tried to make sense of this world he found himself in.

“I am,” Miguel clarified. “She’s not from this dimension. Her… alternate self isn’t here anymore.”

He recalled the images of all the Peter’s and Gwen’s and Jessica’s mourning their canon disasters. Loved ones, friends, lovers.

The second strand of three disappeared.

“Does that mean if you…?”

You nodded your head at Miles. Peter put his hand on your shoulder at the admission.

Miguel focused on that hand. He saw the comfort, he saw the friendly love and knew he had wasted time. He had wasted months being angry at you when you weren’t the cause of it.

He had watched over your dimension to keep you safe while you struggled and in his own pain, he made the unity between you strained and unrealistic.

But he also knew the greater purpose.

“I guess I just have to pick the right side.”

You tried to bring levity.

You didn’t realize that you’d be picking Miles and your friends or Miguel and the person you knew because if you didn't you'd lose everything.

And you needed to save yourself in one dimension you still existed in.

Earth 42.

A/N: this isn’t proofed yet. I can totally see a million different sequels to dive deeper into the relationship between reader and Miguel.

As always, comments and reblogs are the best feedback a writer can ask for. I love reading any comments you all leave 🥺. Thank you so much for reading.

Tags:

@csmt-m @er4tous @gracielou0518

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine #fanficition #x reader #x fem reader #fanfic #x female reader #x female y/n #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac

645 notes · View notes

oakbuggy · 1 year ago

Text

Liar, Liar Chapter 4

Recom!Neteyam x female OC

Summary : Tala of the Tawkami gets captured by a familiar face and to both of their misfortune, they are trapped together due to circumstance. They are extremely vexed by this and each other and also very horny.

Warnings: Minors DNI, non-con+dub-con, explicit smut, dirty talk, authority, power struggle, mentions+depictions of blood, minor violence, character death, marking, biting, scenting, ANGST

!! Each chapter will have images throughout the chapter, only the AO3 will have the NSFW-uncensored versions. Please keep this in mind as you read !!

Chapter 4 (NSFW) ~9.8k words

AO3 Link Here!

Prev Chapter / Next Chapter

Tala unceremoniously woke up in her cell, her body completely sore and wrecked, and no memory of how she got back. She endured hours of self-pitying and Orlek’an’s intense questioning of what happened and if she was okay and yes, the sex was extremely good and she didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Her next sessions in the lab were more bearable, a silver lining of pleasantries was included in each meeting. Patty had also surprisingly apologized and ‘gifted’ the Tawkami with her own starched white lab coat, filled with pockets.

Well, it was less of a gift and more of a ‘all the bites and marks on your body are making us uncomfortable so please wear this piece of clothing’-type offering. Tala did question why not they just look away but she couldn't necessarily blame them, the soldier wasn’t very gentle with his ‘playing’. She had also been spared embarrassment and given a replacement tewng, but this one was so strange. It was a tawtute piece of clothing, underwear that dug into her hips a bit, an ugly grey color. Still, better than the shreds Neteyam had left her with.

Scientists trusted her more and allowed her closer to materials. So much closer that she was able to build up her own collection, including a paralyzing agent to coat Orlek’an’s crude darts and needles with. The pockets were like godsend.

The only one who didn’t trust her any more in the time she’s been here was unsurprisingly and so frustratingly, Corporal Tom.

He dragged her away at careless hours of the day and night since then, to the quiet and somewhat disturbed acceptance of all the scientists and Patty. Every kiss was wounding, every touch was rough, and his steadfast meanness was grating on Tala’s resilience.

And by Eywa, so was his stamina. Any peak she caught of the soldier in the hallways made her scowl. While each step made her wince and tremble, oh no, perfection himself had the swagger of a palulukan prowling their territory.

He’d come to find her every few or so days, so Tala took these breaks as little gifts from Eywa. Hidden in high corners, hallways, and window corners, she would etch clues of the prophesied danger. ‘Tsefta’ Eywa’ [Eywa’s Revenge], she wrote. Vrrteps could translate it, true, but the People would know it was a warning, a true sign. Even if Tala got caught, the rest would follow in spreading the message, though she obviously hoped this wouldn’t happen.

A few days passed, it was no worry. The few days stretched into a week and she still hadn’t seen neither boot nor tail of him. Not that she was worried.

Not that she missed him, Great Mother, she’ll poison herself before she ever admits that.

“Haven’t seen Corporal Tom in a minute, he… alright?” Dr. Hanson said awkwardly as the two of them waited for the droid to bring out the next sample. Tala snorted, how would she know?

Patty knew. “He sick.”

The Tawkami proudly fought the urge to twist her body at a breakneck speed to interrogate the guard but her shoulders did tense. He’s never been sick, and, extreme headaches aside, he was all the makings of a healthy and hardy soldier.

Dr. Hanson spotted Tala’s pinched focus on the table, so he took pity and asked for her.

“Sick with what?”

Patty shrugged.

“Ramirez spotted him hiding out in his room and the medics are salty ‘cause apparently, that’s just ‘what he does’ instead of going to them.” The guard explained, picking dirt from underneath her nails which only got a scolding from the other scientists. Tala could feel her ears perking up, intrigued, but she kept her mouth shut and her eyes focused on the plant material before her. It wasn’t any of her business, even if she burnt for answers.

Before her was a cluster of hardened plant sap and crystals before her, golden, and still connected to violet tree bark. Previous thoughts of the Corporal were quickly replaced by delight.

“Oh. This is… sweet thing. Honey.” She replied in her simple English, and Dr. Hanson’s previously unreadable expression broke when his eyebrows shot up.

“Honey? So, just edible, no medicinal properties?”

Tala smiled and quickly swiped a tiny crystal to taste, causing the scientists around the table to squawk.

“What are you doing!”

“H-hey!”

“Spit it out!”

Tala let it melt on her tongue, smiling cheekily. “Properties… makes other medicine easier to eat.” She said with a giggle and pushed the cluster towards the tawtutes. They eyed each other before shaking their heads, deciding to input their observations instead. She shrugged, savoring the sweet, tart, taste, the flavor like a melody on her taste buds. It’s been so long since she’s really tasted anything besides those miserable dry bricks of vitamins. As she licked her fingers clean she remembered something.

He liked honey when they were younger, didn’t he?

Tala blew some dark strands out of her face, eyelashes fluttering like a tizzy and she paused. Her green eyes snapped up to see Dr. Hanson’s extremely observant and bespectacled brown ones.

She felt her cheeks heat up, Great Mother, how affection-starved was she to consider Neteyam’s continued absence discomforting?

She blinked twice before smiling, pointing her ears down as if bashful. “You’re staring very hard, it embarrasses me.” She teased and puffed up internally when he sputtered.

Dr. Hanson sheepishly looked down and with a glance around the room, pushed the honey cluster towards her.

“You can have it.”

“Really?”

“Well, I think honey’s a small price to pay for saving my life.”He said with a small smile. He straightened up nervously but Tala delightedly leaned across the table close to his face. She blinked prettily at him and smiled, her nose almost touching the glass of his exo-pack.

“I think you just like me!” She said delightedly and carefully placed the little cluster in her pockets, licking her fingers. When the tawtute’s face flushed, Tala smiled to herself. She was far more used to this sort of reaction. Not Corporal Tom’s indifference tinged in distaste.

She grimaced suddenly when the sweetness on her fingers made her feel so terribly homesick.

She missed her medical alcove, the crunch of grass as she walked, and the smell of everything in the air. She didn’t miss the raids, nor the trepidation she felt every time she awaited her friends to return from their own missions.

But now because of one single prick, she was forced into a new normal. Tala was sure he saw it as Eywa’s strange sense of humor that he was burdened to come find her for his aching head. Both the one on his shoulders and the one between his legs.

The mark on her neck stayed ever deep and ever sore. And yet despite the evidence of his outright obsession, which Tala felt like she was running in circles in making him admit, his bruising indifference was prevailing. The tranquil seed in her back fangs didn’t feel like enough to get back at him for, not by a long shot.

The mechanical doors whirred open and already her mouth poised to snark at the corporal for his absence, but the face she saw was much uglier than she was expecting. Corporal Halloway smiled broadly, to her chagrin, and noisily stomped into the lab, arms wide open.

“Hey there eggheads, and Private!” Corporal Halloway walked into the room with the confidence of a man who was not sporting a healing black eye. The disgust replaced shock when he grabbed her chin, making her hiss.

“Aw, hey to you too, sweetheart. Still mad?” He asked with mocking kindness. A hazmat-suited scientist guffawed from the corner.

“Your black eye looks like it’s healing well.” They said in the back smugly. The corporal flipped them off and fingered through Tala’s braids roughly until he found her kuru and pulled it harshly to get her feet. She shouted from the pain and her legs bumped painfully against the side of the table.

“Not feelin’ like talking to the eggheads today. How about you and I get some privacy?” Corporal Halloway said heatedly, eyes dangerously gleaming. She grimaced and the rest rose to their feet as well.

“You can’t-“

“We’re in the middle of-!”

“Hey-!”

The corporal leaned over Dr. Hanson in a way that made the scientist step back and strain his neck. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to and even Patty was shifting her eyes in apology.

After a few seconds of tense silence, he suddenly laughed.

“Thought so,” Halloway said and quickly dragged Tala out of Lab 12. In the narrow halls, he dug his dirty nails into her hip.

“Hurts.” She tried to say without hissing but her revulsion peaked through too obviously. His loud boot stomps echoed along the floor, her own feet skidding along. He had dragged her out so quickly that thankfully her inhibitor cuffs were still unlinked, but who knew how long that would last?

“You don’t seem to mind when it’s the big blue boy scout doin’ the hurtin’.”

Her nose scrunched up. Maybe her reaction was a touch dramatic because the Recom barked a laugh loud and hard, so pleased.

“What, you don’t like him either? That’s a shame, I think you’re his favorite.” His eyes looked strange when he said that last word. Tala didn’t like that, didn’t like him, for some reason, she felt like something more dire than a disappointing fuck was awaiting her and her mouth felt dry. His gaze right after he kicked her to the floor was so… intense. Scary.

The sour aftertaste of honey stuck to her tongue.

Corporal Halloway nearly dislocated her arm when they made a turn into an unfamiliar set of hallways. While Tala appreciated the new addition to her mental map of the facility, the pit in her stomach grew. Just weeks ago she was fine with Halloway’s advances, but now he seemed even more disgusting an option. His already awfully-stale smell was mixed with blood and gunpowder, smoke. He had returned recently from battle.

Tala’s green eyes worriedly darted around, the empty metal passages, the corporal’s face that towered over her with an unsettlingly friendly smile, and his gun still holstered on his harness. She had forgotten that despite his harshness, ill-treatment, and manhandling, Corporal Tom never acted with an intent to kill her, not really. Corporal Tom cursed and used her, but he was at least reliant on her, even if he hated it.

Tala avoided making any further eye contact with Halloway. She knew that looking into them would only set off more dread.

–

Neteyam could smell her before he could hear her and at first he thought those whiffs of honey and rose were only his delusion.

His body was sore, his bedsheets were covered in his sweat and he huffed, vexed at the thought of her.

A simple mission turned out to have much more annoying consequences than Neteyam had expected. It was a simple raze and redevelop; Raze the ground and redevelop for more RDA bases. More Bridgeheads.

The roads were developed but on this side of the moon, barely inhabited. Most fled, the few warriors the na’vi were more focused on evacuating the many young they traveled with, which the Omaticayan thought was so outrageously reckless of them. How could one think to travel with so many helpless clan members in the open? How could they let themselves be targeted like that?

Neteyam’s scope remained fixed on grown warriors, knives and bows in their calloused hands. Halloway’s accursed chuckles from his throat comm about ‘easy pickings’ made his jaw tense.

But his headaches and mind soothed with each shot he, as a soldier, took. Perfect, accurate.

The battle was barely worthy to be called such. His migraine returned to manageable levels, his supplies were hardly dented and when Quaritch recalled the team to the center of the field Neteyam saw no movement.

The arrow shot at Neteyam’s clavicle was surprising, to say the least. He had seen the half-dead na’vi on the ground, her arm still in the air, and the both of them dropped onto the grass to bleed out.

Visceral shadows of sensation coursed through his body as he bled out, it prickled muscle memories that he didn’t know where from. Had he bled out before? His scars felt like they glowed red-hot but he had enough sense to apply emergency care and pressure to staunch the bleeding.

“Tom down, requesting extraction.” He hissed into his throat-comm and he knew he was conscious as another squad member arrived and dragged him back to the helicopters. He knew he was awake when the Colonel asked for his condition, of which he answered positively, and Halloway painfully clapped his hand on his back like a dickhead.

And maybe Neteyam was awake when Quaritch then told him to report to medbay and Neteyam instead went back to the darkness of his private quarters, deciding he’d rather hunker down and tend to himself. He had made his own collection of RDA medical supplies inside his room, increasingly avoiding any medical staff if he could.

He didn’t know why he did. He just never wanted them to touch him, never to set him inside one of those chambers.

Neteyam, still in bed, looked down at the haphazard bandages awkwardly applied around himself to cover his clavicle and the dried blood on his mattress. Ah, yes. After he got shot, he developed a fever and continued to seclude himself.

He groaned when he realized he could still catch her scent, still provoking him and perplexing him. It must have been days, how did she always manage to worm her way into his thoughts? She confounded him, which was precisely why he avoided seeing her. Neteyam needed actual strength every time he saw her, or else he’d end up falling for her cloying words or stabbing her dead, it was for both their sakes really. He kept her distant even despite their intimate closeness, kept her screaming with his fingers instead of letting her poke her away around his mind with careful touches. He kept her shut up with kisses that made them both taste blood because even if he couldn’t stand her, his feet would take him to Lab 12 and back in the sights of her infuriatingly pretty green eyes.

Damn her. And damn Eywa, for making him reliant on her, he could feel the veins on his forehead pulse and it felt like gunshots were hammering away in his head. He was fine before he found her.

Halloway’s barking laughter was so loud Neteyam could hear it through his door and thankfully he harbored absolutely no goodwill towards that irritating person. He regarded his fellow Corporal with the barest respect, he was more cruel than he had to be on the battlefield. It bristled against Neteyam’s previous warrior sensibilities, he would definitely have considered Halloway dishonorable.

Neteyam shot up in his bed as the pieces of his mind finally clicked together. Halloway and Tala?

The soldier walked to his door with minor difficulty and it hummed fully open. There was Halloway, lecherously draped around Tala, leading her through the soldiers’ living quarters. Her tail was swishing anxiously.

Neteyam glowered when the two of them turned towards him but all he was focused on was Halloway’s hand squeezing her ass through her lab coat.

Her fucking pert, round ass he’d watched bounce on him just a week before-fuck. His nose wrinkled, he didn’t feel like sharing.

“Get over here.” Neteyam’s voice rumbled through his chest dangerously low, not acknowledging his fellow squad member. Tala blinked her stupid pretty eyes and she cautiously leaned her weight forward, toward Neteyam. The soldier above her kept her still.

“Hey sunshine, you finally awake? How you feeling, big guy?” Corporal Halloway greeted him, friendly, but when he adjusted his grip on Tala to kiss into her hair she could feel the temperature drop as Neteyam’s pupils turned to pinpricks

“Fine. How’s your eye?” The snark in Neteyam’s voice felt too personal and the way Halloway’s pulse quickened made Tala immediately look back up his face, the black eye. He did that?

“Cute. I’m gonna go get my dick wet now, you can have her when I’m done. But, uh, I wouldn’t wait.” The Recom said dryly, winking, and began dragging Tala back to their original destination. Neteyam’s growl was enough to get everyone to freeze and Halloway faced him again, she could see Neteyam’s knuckles turn white.

The Tawkami na’vi thought quickly, a second option had become available to her and though she loathed to admit, Neteyam was by far more attractive. As an option.

She discreetly rolled the thinnest of Orlek’an’s crude darts at the bottom of her lab pockets with her thumb and finger. The Anurai woman had taught her some new tricks and Tala’s tongue ran over the tranquil seed still tucked securely in her back fangs, another option if things went awry.

She could do this.

Tala pressed herself firmly onto Halloway’s arm and let him feel the contours of her body through her closed lab coat. Both soldiers’ ears perked up, alarmed. She fluttered her eyelashes up at Halloway coquettishly while ignoring the holes she felt burning on the side of her head.

“Can we go already~?” She whispered with a small whine, and Neteyam could feel his fever spreading tenfold down his fucking bloodstream what the fuc-

Halloway’s eyebrows shot up and the wolfish grin on his face was so immense Neteyam considered kicking his teeth in. Halloway turned to him, dramatically shrugging.

“You heard the little lady.” He said before picking Tala up, she tried to hide her yelp as a squeal of delight. When her eyes caught Neteyam’s unreadable yet simultaneously rageful expression Tala tilted her head and smiled innocently, her tail flicking lazily behind her.

He looked so stupid, what was he all angry for? Adorable.

The Omaticayan was losing his mind, his scowl was deep and he huffed when Tala smiled. When the door shut, he bruisingly hit the side of his fist against the wall. Yomioang [chalice plant], he couldn’t have picked a better plant for her, she seemed all too fine with ensnaring whoever she could with her nectar and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Neteyam felt all too much like the stupid boy he’d acted around Tala when they had first met as children. Pretty flowers, sweet scents, he wanted to murder something.

Tala wondered if she had gone too far, seeing the way the male na’vi’s back muscles flexed, tight. His hair had whipped away from her so dramatically. But her attention was demanded when Halloway punched in the code for his private quarters and nearly threw her in his bed.

The smell overwhelmed her, and so did he as he immediately ripped her coat open, groaning at the sight of her in this grey underwear. He grabbed at her hips and pawed at her breasts, and Tala obliged despite feeling her skin crawl.

“Finally got you all to myself. Come here, sweetheart…” *He breathed into her darker blue skin as she held the crude needle in her palm. She sighed breathily and arched her back to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

Halloway started to laugh. “Don’t worry I’m not going anywhe-ERK!” Halloway’s body nearly suffocated her as it fell on her diaphragm, heavy as a rock. She quickly pulled out the needle from the space near his adam’s apple, just as Orlek’an had taught her. A new trick, just to cause a fainting spell.

Tala blew more dark strands of hair away from her face as she poked him hard a few times and checked if he was still breathing. He was out cold and Tala nodded to herself, impressed. She would need to ask the Anurai woman to teach her more, though she did also offer a quick prayer to Eywa that she hadn’t just killed him.

After some major effort, Tala rolled the soldier off of her, bit into his skin here and there despite the revulsed reaction it brought to her tongue, and scampered quietly to Neteyam’s door.

She knocked. Nothing. She knocked again, louder.

A crack opened and even from the tiny space, Tala could confirm what she thought she had smelled earlier: dry blood.

She could see Neteyam's bright golden irises blaze at her through the crack and she beamed at him.

“Missed me?”

The door quickly shut and she made the brilliant decision of letting Neteyam nearly break her toes as she tried to stop it. She bit her lips and hissed in pain. Neteyam smiled, almost amused.

“Ow!! Really?” She whisper-shouted to him, feeling extremely vulnerable out in the bright hallways of Bridgehead.

“What did you do to him?” Neteyam asked, eyes flicking to Halloway’s door. Tala rolled her eyes. “He’s fine, he’s just taking a little nap.” She grumbled and attempted to get further inside by squeezing her arm in now, the door digging painfully into her tit as she tried to force her way through.

“You told me to get over here, didn’t you? I had to think of something.” She huffed.

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He kept his hand firmly against the door, though her efforts amused him. He kept enjoying the view of her breast squeezed, her lab coat now open, he let his eyes rake through her exposed figure.

“Toys have to look like they want to play if they want to survive, adorable warrior.” The tease in her voice died when Tala’s nose scrunched, the smell of sickness apparent on him. “Let me in, you’re hurt.”

Neteyam quirked his brow but relented, not wanting the two of them to get caught by anyone.

Tala entered and immediately re-examined him. His striped body was covered in a light sheen of sweat and pale, She noted a mass, of bandages she assumed, protruding from underneath his black, tight shirt, around his right-side clavicle. When her hands reached out he pushed it away.

“Show me your pockets.”

“What?” Tala’s ears folded back. Neteyam raised his brows as if his request was predictable and she was the one being unreasonable.

“How did you ‘make him sleep’, Tala?” He said, a slight growl to emphasize his soberness.

Tala made a face. This wasn’t cute.

“How do I make you sleep, Neteyam?” She replied, a challenging swish in her tail. She crossed her arms, they stared at each other in silence, his mouth was set in a hard line.

They stared.

Neteyam lurched forward and dug his hand into her pockets himself.

“You-!”

He pulled back only to reveal fingers covered in sticky and spiky clusters of honey. Tala’s heart had jumped out of her chest for a moment there but his fingers were mercifully too big to sense the tiny needles still deep inside. She made a very good show of her innocence with sass.

“Yes! I poisoned the poor corporal with honey, best be careful. This yomioang is just full of tricks.” The Tawkami woman said tartly as he stared down, still confused about what the heck was on his hand. He hadn’t seen honey since he had left the forest with his family.

“Why do you have this?” His voice was more full of wonder than she had expected.

“The scientists. They-“

“They?”

“Dr. Hanson just gave me some as a thank you. That’s it.” Tala looked up at him through her eyelashes. “And I didn’t hurt the corporal or poison the honey if that’s what you’re going to ask next.”

Neteyam pursed his lips, it was. Tala sighed and stepped forward and he was damned to admit that the gentle air of her perfume did make him feel better.

“If I wanted to hurt him I wouldn’t have come back to you now.” She cautioned another step forward and she delicately picked out the sticky sweet crystals from Neteyam’s hand. He froze, eyes warning as the veins on his neck pronounced itself. She was close enough for him to count the tanhi on her face and now the real sweet thick substance was setting his nerves on fire.

“I promise, I won’t hurt you. You know I know how to help, let me help you. If I’ll heal the vrrteps, I’ll heal you. Please.” Tala said again, her green eyes gazing straight at his, she noted how the golden syrup reflected against his eyes. She used to think he was sweet. For that, she couldn’t ignore how his mottled blood-stained stank, how the sick clung to his skin and his breath was short.

Neteyam’s eyes softened a percentage under Tala’s determination. The plea in her voice seemed sincere to him.

He sighed and kept his eyes on her, suspicious. She frowned, about to give up and her fingers started to leave his skin.

The soldier sighed again, tugged off his shirt, and sat on the edge of his bed.

Tala let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as she quickly looked around the windowless room, closed off and the only comfort it possessed was that it smelled like him and the forest. Pine, sunlilies, and, somehow, sunlight.

She picked out what she needed from the available medical supplies and sat down delicately next to him, barely disturbing the wrinkles.

The bandages were decent, but they were old, Tala worked quickly. He hissed when she cleaned the wound.

Tala pushed the small cluster of honey she had recollected from his hand into his mouth as if she were comforting a child.

“Tawtute medicine stings, you’ve always known that. Just enjoy this.” Tala said, a small smile quirked on her lips as she foresaw the scowl begin to sink into the wrinkle of his mouth.

He definitely didn’t appreciate it but kept stoic as he let the honey roll around on his tongue. Sweet, his eyes flickered to the navi in front of him. The scene felt so… familiar, despite his best efforts to resist

The Tawkami alchemist finished and quietly touched his exposed forehead. The fever wasn’t too strong, he had sweated out the majority of it and Tala had spotted some pill bottles earlier. She wished she had her usual ingredients, the Tawkami medicine and recipes that could heal him faster.

“How did this happen?”

“Do you really want to know?” Neteyam mumbled though he did admire her handiwork as he looked down.

It wasn’t from uncooperation that he asked this, Tala knew. She paused if she really did want to know. What was a messy scar and a fever for this solder was likely something much more permanent for whoever did this to him, it made her chew the inside of her cheek. The tranquil seed was still always an option.

“Why didn’t the vrrteps heal you? Your wound shouldn’t have gotten infected.” She switched her question.

“I told you I don’t like the scientists.” Neteyam thought her change in topic was prudent.

She nodded and he realized she still didn’t understand.

“I’d rather tend to myself, I know how to and I don’t need them to run their… tests on me. Keep me under observation for something as small as this.”

Curiosity flashed in Tala’s eyes and Neteyam mentally decided he’d only humor her for as long as this small ball of honey in his mouth lasted.

“Do they do that often? Keep you under observation?”

“They brought me back from the dead, Tala. Of course.”

“What do they do?”

“They check my vitals, lay me inside one of their bio-lab chambers.”

“And what else?”

The ball of honey was melting fast.

“I’m unconscious when I’m in the chamber.”

“But does it… hurt? When you wake up?”

Neteyam didn’t feel like answering, so he sucked until the honey disappeared completely on his tongue.

“Thank you for tending to me, Tala. I’ll call a guard to escort you back.” He was not surprised from the severely offended look on Tala’s face.

For she didn’t appreciate the clipped ‘thank you, get out’ from Neteyam’s mouth. Tala kneeled up to tower over him, letting the unbuttoned lab coat fall off her shoulders as she placed her hand on her hips.

The soldier would hurl himself off a cliff before confessing that his eyes strained not to stare at that deliciously thin, tiny, piece of grey cloth that covered her cunt. She looked too good in it, no loincloth to cover the supple fold of her flesh, her thighs and pelvis meeting- focus.

“You didn’t answer my question.” She said.

“I’ve answered enough.”

“You didn’t answer an important one.” Tala was slowly realizing she should not have missed him as much as she did in his absence. She sighed, and Neteyam took minor offense to being treated as if he was the source of her vexation.

“I’m just… Of course, I’ll leave, you need to rest.” She figured she wasn’t going to get any more information and a larger part of her was scolding her for trying in the first place. This skxawng wasn’t worth the effort, she had done her duty as a healer and alchemist. This was enough.

Neteyam stilled his movements, taken aback at her so quickly giving up. He regarded her suspiciously and sighed. He lets the wrist tech fall to the floor.

“You drop-” Tala was about to be very helpful and reach down to retrieve it until Neteyam suddenly grabbed her by her waist and pulled her down with him, letting his back fall onto the mattress.

“Neteyam! Your wound!” She yelped.

“Just be quiet.”

Tala looked at him in complete disbelief, Neteyam kept his eyes trained on the ceiling since he didn’t need to look at her to already know what her expression was like. She was stunned, to say the least, but Tala was also minding the feeling of her body pressed onto his bare chest. This felt the closest thing to tender between them.

She decided being a little selfish for the comfort wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Instead of asking more questions, which the soldier was preparing himself mentally for, Tala surprised him by simply sighing and settling in, tracing the stripes on his chest. Her fingertips danced lazily on the skin, careful over his old gunshot wound on his left pec. Whatever, looks like she was stuck here.

Now Neteyam knew he was still delirious from his fever when he found himself not stopping her. When he found her soft curves like a blanket on top of him and her careful touch endearing. This was why he needed strength every time he saw her, already he was letting her entrap him like a small animal, attracted to her warmth and smell. He had to remember that even wasps also settled within her, waiting to attack him on all fronts.

His tail thumped softly against the side of the bed, agitated. Tala noticed but stayed quiet. She reminded herself that every show of embarrassment was because his ego was crying, not because he considered her capable of affecting him.

“Why do you help me?” When Neteyam asked it he wondered to himself why he was so eager to get eaten and stung.

Tala could feel the bass of his voice tremor through her and she raised her face to look at him.

“A healer doesn’t need a reason to heal, remember?” Tala replied softly, simply, she rested her cheek on her arm. In the end, this was what she believed in, even if her wartime experience told her this was reckless.

The Omaticayan was not expecting to be so unscathed.

“Mm.” He hummed.

“Did you give Halloway that black eye?”

There it was, the first sting. Neteyam shrugged and then winced. Tala was immediately amused and scooted closer to his face, grinning.

“How come?” She asked, beginning to sound all too excited.

“… You were unfairly punished, remember?” His heart didn’t know whether to feel lighter or heavier when she giggled.

“You got revenge for me before I even asked!” Tala was smiling, wasn’t this a treat? Did this skxawng actually have the capacity to be charitable? “How come you didn’t tell me?”

It was when it dropped that he realized he was smiling at all. He trained his eyes back on the bare ceiling. He remembered when he used to ache to see stars.

“What would you have done if I did?”

“I probably would’ve kissed you.”

He furrowed his brows at her, unimpressed. Tala scoffed and laughed again.

“A real kiss. Not that bloody mauling you make us do with our lips.”

Now that offended him, Neteyam propped himself up by his elbows.

“I don’t ever hear you complainin-”

Tala pressed her lips so completely softly against his, it should’ve been so easy for him to shove her off.

Yet his voice broke off instantly and her eyelashes brushed against his cheek. Her eyes were mercifully closed so she couldn’t see the war his ears flushed red.

Another sting.

“You taste like honey,” Tala said, smiling into the kiss. She didn’t have any real reason why she was doing this. Maybe she wanted to prove herself wrong. Maybe she wanted to check really how little Neteyam cared for her… and how much.

His body felt hot, Great fucking Mother why was she so… It was embarrassing how quickly he was getting enraptured by her whims. She always did whatever she wanted, he hadn’t seen that as something attractive before.

The Tawkami pulled her face back and so embarrassingly his own chased after hers until she put his hand over his mouth.

“See? A real kiss.”

Neteyam dumbly nodded and only when Tala ever so softly giggled did he regain some sense. He scoffed and quickly turned the both of them to properly lay in his bed, pulling the covers over them.

He settled his face into her soft breasts, the only thing that he felt hadn’t betrayed or embarrassed him that day.

“Excuse me??” Tala squeaked, amused though.

“Shu’up. Tired.” His voice was muffled into the fat of her breasts but Tala basically understood. She chortled, was this fondness she was feeling? His resistance towards her was bordering so much closer to adorable than to infuriating just then, the flashes of his old self were… bring up warm reminders. Of when he was much nicer and much funner to be around, much kinder.

Tala settled in, supposing correctly she wouldn’t be let go any time soon. Her hands softly patted his back as they laid there.

“Fine, I’ll leave you be since you’re hurt.” She said in her magnanimous good grace. She decided to also ignore Neteyam snorting between her breasts.

Silence returned and Tala considered speaking of something of much more substance, of importance. Like the war, his family, but the words stuck in her throat. They were virtually strangers. Even strangers in war could share intimacy like this if they were desperate and tired enough.

The thought made playing with Neteyam’s unadorned braids of hair feel… invasive. She stopped.

They were just starved for warmth, that was all. Neteyam felt lucky that he was drowsy now. Like Tala, there was too much he didn’t want to think about, no intention to release it all.

Both kept silently awake for hours before drifting into slumber.

—

Neteyam’s face was lit by stinging sparks of fire and magma.

It was hot, so hot he could barely breathe. He looked around, coughing, and there he saw the slender back of someone who looked too eerily familiar. He groaned internally, he had always hated Eywa’s ability to send visions in dreams, did he really have no place for solace?

“Mother.”

Neytiri turned, her amber eyes wide and blazing as she looked at her son with a face of anguish. She ran towards him, through plumes of burning stone.

“Maitan [my son]!”

Neteyam grimaced as his mother’s arms encircled him, her grip tight and pleading. She was shaking, he could see how aged the skin on her hands had become, her smell of daffodils.

He saw his songcord hanging on her hips and he felt as if the splatters of fire were less painful a sensation than seeing that.

Neytiri stepped back to look at her firstborn, miracles and blessings on her tongue. Her fingers wandered along his face, his scars, the one on his forehead was hidden from her however.

Her reverie was cut short when she truly looked at the RDA vrrtep uniform he was fully clothed in

“You are alive.” Her voice trembled regardless, too much pain and happiness bubbled up to the surface as the lines of her conflicted smile deepened, she was trying not to sob.

“Mother.” Neteyam couldn’t help but want to be kind. He had often daydreamed of how such reunions would go. He had calculated soon enough his mother would see him, as he is now. He knew she would know she’d have to kill him and how she would want to refuse to. He counted on it.

“M-my son, how could you think like this?” His mother’s voice broke at the question, somehow everything the two were thinking was so plain to them here.

Their ears flicked at the roars of fire and heaviness settled.

“If the People give up Jake Sully, I won’t have to.” Neteyam said and he could feel his mother start to draw blood. Nothing, it felt like barely anything.

“What is this poison, Neteyam? What have they done to you, maitan?” Neytiri nearly shouted, her own songcord swinging as her whole body shook in anger, imitating the volcanoes around them. “I will kill them, I will avenge you-“

Jake Sully first. He alone should be the only casualty, Neteyam knew that, all of Eywa'eveng knew that. But even in his clearheadedness, not at all shrouded in migraine, he could feel his scars emanate a heat hotter than fire. Nothing to hide behind, resentment filled up so much of his core.

His head and his heart wanted revenge. It wasn’t even his fault, none of theirs, Neteyam knew so logically.

“Bro…?”

He turned his head so quickly his plain braids whipped to see a na’vi too familiar to him. Five fingers, eyebrows, face and limbs inked with dark tattoos, and taller. He walked towards them, somehow feet not burning and the heat made his visage blurry but not his emotions.

“Lo’ak…” it was their mother, Neytiri called out to him in warning. The son in front of her, she would not dare take her eyes off of him now.

Not when the inferno reflected in Neteyam’s eyes was overflowing, his jaw tightened, if his nails were longer he’d long be drawing blood into his palms.

“You do not want this.” Neytiri’s voice rose as Lo’ak approached them, his lips parted. Wonder, horror?

Guilt.

“Bro-, Neteyam. Neteyam I’m so sorry-“ Lo’ak wanted to believe it was because of the way even the air sizzled that he found it harder to breathe, not because of his… did he have the right to call him a brother?

“First, Dad. Because we shouldn’t even exist and you know it.” Neteyam’s voice was eerie and he stepped closer to his younger sibling, it made Lo’ak’s feet falter and Neytiri’s throat bubbled up with panic.

“What- What are you talking about-?”

“There was something Quaritch told me since the time I’ve come back.” Neteyam spat at the words ‘come back’ as if he had any choice in the matter. Neytiri followed as her sons came closer and closer to each other, no one backing down. The lava was following the steps of each warrior.

“Something about the ‘sins of the father’ to be paid by his children.”

Lo’ak kept his gaze steady, his hands twitched at the threat. Neteyam didn’t have a clue what his face was like now, but he could feel it through Lo’ak. Monster, freak, he supposed it was unsurprising.

A son that was supposed to be dead.

Both sons of a traitor.

Neteyam stopped a meter away from the younger. Their heights seemed even, Lo’ak’s warrior garb and belly band looked similar to the one he had had. He wanted to laugh, was that a tribute to him?

Lo’ak’s ears turned down, jaw set.

“Do you really think that’s fair, baby brother?” His voice was too calm.

“Neteyam, stop this, they have poisoned you against your own family, your people! Please, just come home maitan-“

Lo’ak heard the mistake in his mother’s plea too late.

“Home? Like when I asked to come back home when I died?” His fury was overwhelming, Neteyam was seeing things he did not recognize. He was shot in the head, when had he the time to tell them? What was this dark view of the stars, faces of loved ones looking down on him, where was this from?

The other two sensed the confusion, only making their own burst through.

“Neteyam, please, just listen to us-“

“Maitan, it will be okay! Your-your father has barely slept since you-“

“Why should the People continue to suffer for his actions? Jake Sully already doomed this place-!”

“Dad doomed this place? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Lo’ak’s tone turned grave with this outburst and he ventured closer to his brother despite Neytiri’s protests.

“You’ve got to fucking joking. You’re actually on the side of the people that ruined our lives, destroyed our homes, killed everyone, killed you, mom’s family-?!” They were growling at each other now, Neteyam no longer had the significant height advantage he was used to. Their fangs gleamed red in the dream, as if already bloodied, he always hated Lo’ak’s were sharper but he was confident it wouldn’t help that much.

Both were suddenly aware that in their respective war costumes, both had knives strapped to their bodies.

“No!” Neytiri sobbed with a pain that both brothers knew they’d never forget. She reached for her own, to protect, to defend, Neteyam’s gloved fingers wrapped around the handle of his black combat knife, and Lo’ak’s citrine eyes begged for peace as his hand reached for his carved hunting knife.

Neteyam recognized that knife. He gave it to him, a present for Lo’ak’s iknimiya, recently sharpened. Neytiri’s knife hung with a feather he had gifted to her as a child.

Neteyam now truly knew Eywa was cruel.

-----

“Neteyam!!”

The soldier gasped and immediately hurled his body forward to break the bones of whoever was in front of him.

Tala choked and she placed her hands on his face.

“Breathe, Neteyam.”

One blink and he could see the cool-toned blues and greens of dull and dark silver walls in shadow. Bridgehead. His room.

Inferno-yellow eyes met cooling leaf hues. Green, green eyes, Tala.

The breath he let out was shuddering and violent, he immediately crumpled tightly around her and Tala found herself now trying to hold the soldier up with wrinkled, damp blankets.

“I’m sorry, shit, I’m sorry…” he gasped out quickly, his entire body felt so fucking cold now, it hurt. Tala blinked owlishly but her sleepy state focused on comforting him.

“It was a dream, just a dream. You’re okay, you’re okay.” She whispered soothingly, she rubbed his back. They were sitting up in the middle of his bed now, though Neteyam was still hunched over and breathing hard to regain himself. She felt his calloused hands dug into her body as if tattooing her stripes into his palms…

“It’s your fever, you’re sweating, you’ll warm up in a bit.” Tala continued and her voice stayed calming and even. She couldn’t do much else when Neteyam’s remedy to whatever he had seen in his sleep was to bury their bodies impossibly closer together. The soldier hadn’t meant to hurt her.

He pushed his face into her softness, desperate for real warmth, not the clammy fabric of the blanket.

“Li’Tala…” Tala jerked her entire body away, stunned. He didn’t know why he said it, her full name, one that he knew-

“Don’t call me that, Neteyam.” She said, her firm voice edged on icy.

“Only my mate is allowed to call me ‘Li’Tala’ so I don’t want to hear my name out of your mouth again, you!”

“Oh, and I’m sure your mate will be crying tears of gratitude for finally becoming worthy of it, of you, beautiful Li’Tala.”

Their second meeting as young adults was not… frictionless. But as childish as it was, Tala never wavered in this little dream of hers. Who cared that it was immature, she didn’t allow exceptions, even though the Omaticayan prince bristled hard when not given one.

Neteyam always remembered this of her, yet her insistence and denial of him now made his body feel that much more frozen-numb.

He chased after her skin and stuck his tongue out to taste its natural salt, reminding him of the first time they had reunited. Her taste and her everything, his whole body was shaking for it.

“Li’Tala, Li’Tala…”

“Neteyam–stop–” Now Tala started to squirm in his desperate hold. She could feel his hardening arousal between them, settling so perfectly against her vulva. She pushed against him.

“You need sleep, not a fuck.” She hissed. Tala shivered as the soldier switched between licking, sucking, and biting lightly along the tanhi on her shoulders and chest.

“I need you, Li’Tala.” He rasped deeply. She ignored the way his voice made even her toes curl because now her blood was pumping far too loudly. What did he just say to her? Was he losing his mind, what pills did he take??

“Eywa, get a grip!”

He suckled at the flesh of her tits, Tala shoved his face away with the thick metal of the inhibitor cuffs. He groaned and settled for simply pulling her onto his lap closer than ever, taking a break from his ministrations.

She huffed, she was panting much harder than she realized.

“What happened, what did you see?”

Great mother or whatever being out there, if there ever was one… what could he do to make her realize his ache for her?

“... I need your help, Li’Tala.” He started, fangs catching onto her skin as he spoke. It all made her freeze, she peered down and tried to gently bring his face back towards hers. He let her and looked up at her, she caught herself thinking it was as if he was beseeching her. There was no way.

“I need to forget it. I know you can help.” He said, sunspot yellow met with her cool green. She knew she could to, it’s just…

“Stop calling me Li’Tala” She tried again, this time much more softly. He groaned.

“Let me pretend.” He whispered hotly, his fingers reaching for her cheek. His fingertips barely touched hers and yet she felt only heat.

He still felt so cold.

She gulped. What did pretending mean, what was he thinking of? Tala usually felt like she was the one getting burnt by him, now it seemed like he was starving for her kindling because now… his fire was weak. He was begging her.

Tala bit her lips, frustrated, conflicted. She could just do the same to Neteyam as she did with Halloway, she didn’t need to comfort him.

The Tawkami glanced at her wrists still heavy with metal inhibitors, he needed her?

She would blame her drowsiness for it, just… fuck it. Fuck it.

“You follow my lead then.” Tala whispered and Neteyam swore he could feel his cock twitch at her tone. He nodded eagerly.

Tala then smashed their lips together. His tongue immediately sought inside her, to explore the cavern of her teeth.

She was practically sitting on him now. She could feel his bulge dig into her thigh, he was pawing at her, palming whoever fat he could. He groaned into her perfume.

Tala shushed him softly. She raised her hips just enough for him to frantically shove down his sweats and Tala delicately pushed the tawtute tewng to the side, it squeezed her pink and puffy folds so perfectly that it made him nearly weep. He was already leaking as he heaved, not noticing the bitter look on her face.

“Don’t worry.” She cooed so nicely in contrast. Her voice was like those tawtute myths he was told about by his father, angelic. She slowly and carefully sunk down her pelvis, his cock head breached her open none too gently and she muffled a high-pitched moan, letting Neteyam’s hard shaft split her open. The stretch ached but she kept her voice even and breathy.

“Be good.” She whispered and waited for his reply. The soldier groaned, every strand of muscle forcing him to not push her down right there and then.

Tala sunk down completely it made Neteyam groan harshly and loudly at the feeling of her tight and warm walls surrounding him. His nerves were shot. Naturally, he was about to fuck into her heat when she did it for him. She dragged her hips up unbearably slowly, both reveling how her cunt squeezed each ridge, so hot, so tight.

“Stay still.”

She slammed her hips down with a ferocity that made both of them moan loudly, she nearly cried out. She started to bounce, holding onto Neteyam’s broad shoulders for support.

“Mmmm…” Tala moaned low, each moan punctuated every time she felt her ass slap against his thighs. He moaned with her, finding himself on the receiving end of her fast pace. He groaned into her hair wantonly, cock twitching inside her.

“Fuuckkk, hahh, fuck.” He cursed softly then latched his mouth on his first mark on her. She stopped suddenly and it embarrassed him how nearly he fucking whined.

“No biting.” She cooed and Neteyam thought he was being driven insane tonight. Today. Since he had taken Tala.

He growled but nodded, settling into a tight embrace instead. He looked at her expectantly, was this allowed?

Tala’s smile was enough to replace the ache for stars he usually felt whenever he looked up in his room.

Then his eyes nearly rolled back when she slammed and bucked harder onto him.

“F-uuuck, haaah, aangh~” Tala graphically moaned into his ear. She panted and her tits bounced as she pistoned herself on his cock. “Aahhh, nnnggg…” she quietly moaned, angling her hips just so to make the fat tip brush against her sweet spots. Neteyam rutted into her uncontrollably, losing himself as he mindlessly chased her warmth. His mouth was open in a silent moan, holy shit.

Tala’s so fucking wet now and she rolled her pelvis to award herself louder moans from Neteyam’s lips.

“Li’T-tala, so good, fuck you’re so good.” He praised, face still stuck to the crook of her neck. She switched her pace and started rotating her hips, rolling them as she still lazily stroked herself along his shift. She felt her self-satisfaction spike when the soldier’s yellow eyes rolled up and fluttered, pupils were so blown out. She admitted he was adorable like this too.

She brought Neteyam’s hand to her belly, pushing down his hand with hers against the bulge there. They both groaned deeply at the sensation, Tala was near hiccuping from the pleasure. A toy that she was, she had only a toy’s ability to see Neteyam unravel. And she chased it hungrily.

His vulnerable expression contorted from the pleasure. To say Tala’s pussy was the best medication he’s had all week would be an understatement.

“Am I doing good, mighty warrior?” Tala squeezed her walls tight for good measure, a moan ripping out her throat as she did. It was worth it, hearing Neteyam’s louder and deeper one that ended with his teeth back on her skin. He quickly ripped his head back when he remembered her little rule.

“So fucking good, please. Fuckk…” He groaned, massaging her belly now even harder, the thought alone made him want to cum. Tala gasped.

“Mmmm, nnng!!” She squealed, and she fucked herself on his pulsating and thick cock even faster, the squelching sounds fueled the both of them.

Plap, plap, squelch, the mattress started to creak. The soldier switched to holding onto her hips, just to make each thrust that much deeper, to feel her cunt flutter at every brush near her cervix and Tala was seeing stars.

Each ridge and thick vein on his shaft was melting and massaging her cunt. She was enjoying herself fully, from the perspective of the toy she was. He certainly needed this toy so badly now.

“Mmm, mmm!! Haah, hahh, is this really helping? Is your toy pleasing you? Maybe we should stop…” She teased, suddenly slowing down, and was delightfully surprised when he mindlessly begged.

“NO! Fuck, please, dont’s-stop, such a good toy, Li’Tala. So fucking wet, so fucking tight.” He blathered, arms only tightening around her desperately.

Tala threw her head back when Neteyam reached between them, with intense accuracy, to squeeze her clit.

“Oahhh!! Mmmg- Neteyam!” She cried out, the sounds of slapping skin made him laugh dumbly. Their pelvises were completely covered in each other’s slick.

“Take my cum, Tala, need you to take all my cum..” he muttered into her ear and he used his grip on her clit to guide Tala’s pace, she was so close now.

“Don’t stop, so fucking good ma’fil, Li’Tala…” he breathed out, his voice unsteady and deeply tinged in pleasure. The way Neteyam husked her name made her pussy walls convulse.

“Haa, haaa, ahh, I’m close~! I’m close, Nete-yam, Neteyam, so close, close!” Tala whined and dug their pelvises so tightly together that her pearl of nerves rubbed harshly against his toned muscle. She grinded on him wildly, his cock hitting her gummy walls so good, she abused her sweet spots with him.

“So hot, so hot…” he was praising her, the sight of her had made him completely forget how he felt like he was freezing just moments ago. Her soft breasts bouncing, torso in a light sheen of sweat and her eyes so fucking focused on him, her cunt was devoted to squelching lewdly every time she grinded on him.

He was close too, he could feel how heavy his balls were now and without either of their warnings, Neteyam spilled his load into her, it made her mewl as she came hard with him.

Black spots dotted their vision as they painted, their juices had overflowed inside Tala and usually the sight would irritate Neteyam, making him wanna fuck it back into her.

But Tala didn’t mind the mess. In fact, she wanted more. After a few seconds, she rolled her hips again and even though they stuttered, she felt herself able to overcome the crackles of overstimulation.

Her hands delicately laced through his hair to gently stroke at the base of his kuru.

Neteyam hissed loudly and squeezed onto her ass in warning, barely able to stop himself from bucking into her overflowing cunt.

Too fucking soon, the sensation of her pink flesh was overwhelming, the friction was making his muscles involuntarily twitch, he groaned as he rested his head back.

“What’s wrong? You don't want to?” Tala asked, her voice soft and sultry. The question just sounded like the deadliest taunt to him. She was rotating her hips and twisting him from inside her, his cock felt like it was being choked in different ways, squeezed and massaged in a way he hadn’t been before. She was fucking milking him, Neteyam only dumbly shuddered and thrusted upwards weakly.

Her tiny pussy was soaking him, his balls, and his mattress but that didn’t matter when it was the only thing on his mind, her gummy flesh was the only thing reminding him he was still breathing.

After what felt like an eternity of the most delicious torture, Tala finally screamed her last climax and mercifully stopped, shivering from aftershocks of pleasure. She had pulled so much more ropes of cum from him and just staying inside her nearly made him cum again, it made Neteyam whimper low and hotly, his golden eyes barely able to stay open. Tala finally collapsed on him, muscles were burning and she was breathing heavily, but the look on his face made it all so worth it.

She was impressed with herself, her body was heavy with what felt like deep buckets of creamy liquid spilling out of her. She noticed now how tightly his tail had encircled her thigh, a slight mark left from it now.

“Fuck… Li’Tala…” Neteyam drawled out wearily, he collapsed onto his back and brought her with him. Her full name brought back shudders along her spine, the way he said it was positively lewd and so, so, intimate.

Tala hummed, fully able to feel the slowly calming pulse on his neck. She licked her lips, she was enticed. Not one had she left marks on him, she never felt a desire to.

The Omaticayan breathed hard, when he felt her fangs push past her perfect lips and onto his skin. It wasn’t deep, barely a bruise, but Tala finally figured out why he enjoyed doing it to her so much. The way his scent covered her face and somehow she could taste it in his skin was intoxicating.

She licked the small wound while Neteyam fought internally how horny he instantly became again despite his exhaustion. Tala hummed, the two too tired to even look at each other from where they rested.

“Good boy…” She said softly before fading into slumber. Only Neteyam could feel how hard his cock twitched when he heard her whisper. They were fucked out and warm and his miserable dreams were nothing but fuzzy images.

His own consciousness was fading fast and any shiver his body felt was definitely from no bite of cold, regardless of the sweat. Now it was more like pinpricks of pleasure and pain, definitely distracting. Neteyam closed his eyes.

He embraced Tala tenderly, he breathed in her hair, and his mind was completely soothed. He slept wholly to Tala, to the smell of her sweetness, the beat of her heart, the sound of her breath, choosing to forget about those damned dreams and his damned existence.

He breathed out once again, vague recollections of fire licking at his skin.

Neteyam forced the thoughts away by lightly running his fingers on the mark Tala just left on him, barely aching, he could only find it by carefully sensing the barest indentation. He then felt for the one he left on Tala all that time ago, the texture of the scar made it much easier.

Both comforted him, grounded him, he didn’t notice the way his tail wagged a bit too contently. All of his muscles relaxed and gratefully his sleep was dreamless.

His last thought was how much he enjoyed calling her Li’Tala than ma’fil.

tag list: @xylianasblog @itchaboi-itchyboy @hotdsworld @pandoraslxna @luvv4j4ybe11 @neteyamsyawntu @akoyaxs @whatevenisagrapefruit @teyamsatan @justcaptiannoodles @theblueflower05 @neteluvr @neteyamssyulang @plooto @hao-ming-8 @teyamsilly @vivid-ink @vampirefilmlover

notes: hi! finally getting into the plot portion of the fic lol, hopefully this will be all finished v soon! maybe 2 or 3 more chapters? hope yall enjoy~

#recom neteyam #doodle #smut #fanfic #avatar way of water #neteyam sully #avatar 2 #liar liar #fanart #avatar fanfiction #female oc #neteyam x oc

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hayleysayshay · 26 days ago

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Okay here’s how some ideas to adapt bard’s lament in TLOVM S3 if we had to keep this same story structure generally and end on a hopeful note but also allows the season to have actual interesting inter party conflict.

— At one moment in ep 1/2 where Scanlan talks to Kaylie he mentions his mother. Kaylie wants to know more, but Scanlan is too drunk and a mess to continue the conversation. Maybe he even says that he never talks about her — no-one ever asks, but again he’s too drunk to continue the conversation with Kaylie who is annoyed by this

— then episode 6 happens. Pike says he can go, so Scanlan tries to say that he wants to leave to find his daughter. The rest of the group are angry, there’s more pressing things right now, they’re a team, can’t this wait? Scanlan feels dismissed especially since he let them spend a night in his chateau.

— They return to Whitestone. The city is being attacked by dragons. Scanlan tries to help, but is severely hurt by dragon fire. Like head to toe burns. He’s hanging by a thread, Pike works for hours to keep him alive. It’s painful. (This way it’s a really traumatic moment for Scanlan like his death without being a death.)

— Scanlan finally wakes, maybe early ep 7, and then the Bards Lament breakdown happens. He and Percy especially snap at each other. He says they don’t care bout him, what is his mother’s name, he just wanted to see Kaylie.

— he asks Allura or Gilmore to transport him away to Kaylie. VM allow him to leave, Pike is hurt by him leaving, rest of VM more angry.

— we see in ep 8 Kaylie and Scanlan meeting. She’s happy that he came to find her. He plays her his song and he apologises for being a bad dad, but he wants to be there for her.

— Then Percy dies, and Thordak fight happens without Scanlan (just rework his contributions to another character (maybe Vex and Grog?))

— during ep 10 we see Scanlan and Kaylie in a bar together, chatting, where they hear that Thordak has been defeated, but the Lord of Whitestone is dead. Scanlan voices his regrets that now Percy died thinking he didn’t care, that he wasn’t there for the funeral, that the group now thinks he doesn’t care. He can’t fix it.

— Kaylie: ‘your loyalty to those weirdos is one of the endearing things about you. Go to them, don’t leave it like this. You fixed things with me.’

— I think if Scanlan isn’t in a coma it makes VM falling apart in ep 10 more realistic. Instead of only Grog and Pike caring to stay with Scanlan, the team splinters as Percy is dead, Scanlan willingly left, are they even Vox Machina anymore?. (I think you could rework the whole Ripley end fight to have more of VM but I’m just doing Bards Lament, so sure Vex and Vax go fight her alone.)

— Scanlan and Kaylie make the journey back to Whitestone (maybe via a cart, or a joke aboutdrunk wizard who only gets them half way). Either way they don’t get to Whitestone immediately.

— now he can either be back for the Raishan fight, and help out there, or Scanlan can come back just in time for Percy’s resurrection. Maybe it’s really hard — Gilmore and Allura are also helping out Pike and Keyleth, but they need a little more magic, Orthax is sooooo powerful — and then another pair of hands slams onto the resurrection circle — Scanlan has come back in time! Percy is res’d, Scanlan apologises for how he left, they all apologise for taking him for granted, but they soothe those hurt emotions.

— they then all part on good terms like how s3 actually ends.

I don’t think Scanlan is super needed for Thordak or Raishan since he killed Vorugal in s2. If he left midway through s3, his absence would be felt through the second half, so it’s nice to actually see him back in the last episode.

#tlovm crit #tlovm spoilers #tlovm #bards lament #Scanlan shorthalt

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heyiwrotesomethings · 2 years ago

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Hi!, I saw your requests were open, If it’s okay maybe kirari’s secret girlfriend/wife coming to the school and everyone reacting to how similar or different they are?

Not So Different

Kirari Momobami x She/Her Reader

A/N: There is something special about a character who seems nice but can actually be pretty scary. I like it. Anyway, here you go, I hope you like it! Word Count: 2,513

The student population was abuzz after the student council president, Momobami Kirari, gracefully slid out of the glossy black car she arrived in every morning, but this time, with a catch. She held her hand back out to the open car door, and to the surprise of those who cared enough to pay attention, a hand emerged to grasp it.

Another girl slid out of the leather car seat behind Kirari and even after the chauffeur closed the door and returned to his seat to drive away, the girl’s hand remained with Kirari’s as they walked towards the school gates. Though she was wearing the school’s uniform, no one recognized the girl at all. A new student perhaps? And already in the claws of the president, poor thing.

“Good morning, President!” Sayaka greeted her at the front gate as she did every morning, then with less enthusiasm and a smidge of bitterness, she greeted the other girl as well, “Good morning, (Y/n). Welcome to Hyakkaou.”

“Thank you, Sayaka. Good to see you again.” (Y/n) smiled earnestly.

Of course Sayaka seemed to know what was going on. Though Kirari had a vexing mysteriousness about her, no one was more suited, nor dedicated enough to chip her way through than Sayaka. Though even she would say she only knew the tip of the iceberg when it came to Kirari. Although she did know a lot more than the average person, including the fact that Kirari had been betrothed to (Y/n) before either of them had even been born, something about dangerous business deals and complicated Bami Clan traditions for the family head.

Until recently, it was forbidden for the arranged couple to even be seen together in public until the Honebami family had disposed of all the threats. This would be the joining of two very important and influential families after all. Many contracts and a stupid amount of money was hedging on this union.

Now with all possible usurpers and hired guns sinking to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, the couple was given more freedom to do as they pleased which Kirari promptly took advantage of by helping (Y/n) transfer to Hyakkaou.

“President, I have tea warming in the student council room should you like a cup before the morning meeting begins.”

Kirari hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head towards (Y/n), “Would you care to come for tea, my dear? At the very least it would be a good way to meet the rest of the council.”

“Sounds good to me!” Came the chipper response.

Most of the student council was already loitering about the room doing their own thing, but seeing a new face joining the President had piqued the interest of a few members.

“Ooo, who’s this, Kirari?” Runa asked around a mouthful of cherry hard candies. She had only barely glanced up before returning her eyes to the colorful screen in front of her.

“This is my fiancée, (Y/n). She will be joining us for the remainder of our last year. It would have been preferable if we could have shared more of our school days together, but such is life.”

“Better than nothing.” (Y/n) smiled, giving Kirari’s hand a quick squeeze.

“No way, fiancée?” Yumemi gasped. “When did this happen? I’ve been so out of the loop!”

“This union was predetermined by fate and the stars before we even existed.” Kirari colorfully explained, taking her seat at the front of the table, almost dragging (Y/n) down with her, but she declined to sit in Kirari’s lap. Kirari gave a low hum of disappointment.

“It was a high stakes arranged marriage.” (Y/n) corrected. “It wasn’t safe for us to be in public together until recently. For a time, the less people who knew about it, the better.”

“Oh, okay. I know a thing or two about paparazzi myself,” Yumemi flipped her hair over her shoulder, “They just gobble relationship gossip up.”

It was a little more involved than paparazzi, but neither Kirari nor (Y/n) cared enough to get into it.

“Well, it’s good to be meeting you now.” Yuriko chimed in, fidgeting a bit nervously in her seat, “Will you be joining the council?”

“Wouldn’t that be interesting.” Kirari spoke first, “Although… there aren’t any seats open, are there? Not now that I let Sumeragi in due to her father’s generous contributions. Would you give up your spot, Yuriko?”

Yuriko flinched. Why had she opened her mouth at all?! She couldn’t lose her place on the council! Her lip wobbled and she tried to speak, but fortunately, (Y/n) saved her.

“Don’t be mean, Kirari,” she gave Yuriko a reassuring look, “Don’t worry, student government isn’t my thing.”

“Oh…” Yuriko visibly relaxed in her seat, making Runa and Midari laughed.

“I’ll just come by to hang out. You guys can just pretend I’m not even here.”

“Already on it.” Kaede grumbled, clacking away at his laptop.

“Then perhaps keep your mouth closed, Manyuda. If that is truly your intent.” Kirari warned, eyeing the treasurer over the rim of her tea cup.

“Spooky, Prez!” Midari grinned, “I’ve never seen your puffy sleeves get ruffled so easily before.”

“Let’s all just simmer down.” (Y/n) took the seat between Kirari and Ririka, resting a hand on Kirari’s thigh. Kirari’s demeanor returned to normal with a single lazy blink. (Y/n) turned her attention to Ririka next.

Though Kirari had explained to her that Ririka was supposed to be the mysterious vice president until the proper time, whatever that meant, she still wanted acknowledge her soon to be sister-in-law anyway.

“Good morning.” She greeted with a quick wink.

Ririka smiled beneath her mask and gave a nod in return. Shortly after, Itsuki came running in just before the meeting was set to start. Frazzled, the girl looked for an extra chair. (Y/n) offered hers up.

“I should look around the school and find my classroom anyway.” She told Kirari, “Good luck with your schemes!”

“Schemes,” Kirari smiled, amused, “Really now?”

“Yes, schemes.” (Y/n) affirmed. She wasn’t blind to this whole house pet racket Kirari had going on, but growing up in the families that they did, she hardly batted an eye. “See you in class.”

Because of course Kirari made sure they would be in the same third year Hana class. Though Kirari would have rather her stay to help ease the boredom the meeting would surely bring, she let (Y/n) go explore.

“Are you sure you should let her just wander around? She is new…” Yuriko tentatively spoke up against her better judgment.

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be something if your girlfriend became a house pet while your back was turned?” Midari cackled and leaned back in her chair. “A nice girl like that will be sniffed out and ripped apart in no time.”

Kirari giggled resting her knuckles beneath her chin. Looking at her in just the right light, one would see a wild glint in those arctic ice eyes.

“Do you think so?” She asked.

***

“Yumeko, it was just a stupid rumor. You look like an idiot!” Mary hissed, pulling Yumeko away from the stairwell wall she was bent over, looking down for a sign of the president and her mysterious guest.

“Oh, it’s no rumor, Mary. It is one hundred percent factual that Kirari and her betrothed were recently given the green light to be in public together. It was such a big secret, that many of the family branches didn’t even know about it! Knowing Kirari, I would bet that with the restrictions lifted, she enrolled her fiancée to our school.”

“And what of it? Why do you care?” Mary crossed her arms, back stiff, annoyed that she had to follow Yumeko around all morning.

“It’s simple,” Mary swore she saw a glint of red in Yumeko’s eyes, “I want to gamble with her!”

“That’s so dumb,” Mary scoffed, but then, she reconsidered.

Actually, this could be good… If they could win a high stakes gamble against Kirari’s fiancée and make a house pet of her… that would surely get a rise out of the aloof tyrant masquerading as a student council president, right?

“You know what, count me in.”

“Yay, Mary!”

“Don’t touch me!”

“I could have sworn it was supposed to be on this floor… oh dear.”

Mary and Yumeko paused their little scuffle to stare at the girl who just passed them by. The way she checked every room placard as she walked cemented the fact that she just had to be new.

“Excuse me,” Yumeko wasted no time slipping in beside the girl, “are you lost?”

“Yes,” the girl sighed, relieved at the prospect of a helping hand, “I’m looking for the third year Hana classroom. Could you help me?”

“That’ll be easy enough,” Mary chimed in, “We’ll take you there.”

“Thank you guys so much. I’m (Y/n) by the way.”

“I’m Yumeko and this is Mary, nice to meet you!”

They shared a bit of small talk as they climbed the stairs to the third floor. When they reached the correct classroom, (Y/n) thanked them both.

“Thank you both for the escort. I’d love to give you a favor in return sometime.”

“You may be able to fill that favor in right now, actually,” Yumeko circled, finally stopping behind (Y/n) to drape her arms over her shoulders in a loose hug, “You are Kirari’s fiancée, right?”

“Yup, that’s me,” she chuckled, slipping out of Yumeko’s arms, “feels weird to get to tell people that now. Anyway, what’s the favor?”

“Mary and I want to gamble with you!”

“A gamble, with me?”

“Yes,” Mary came to stand beside Yumeko, trapping (Y/n) between them and the wall, “gambling is a big part of how this school functions. But you probably know that given whose circles you run in.” Mary tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Though (Y/n) seemed nice on the surface, she was still betrothed to Kirari who was by far the worst person Mary knew. (Y/n) could be just as deranged.

“Wow,” (Y/n) audibly exhaled, “an invitation already. Well, when in Rome, as the saying goes. Game of choice and stakes?”

“You’ll really do it?” Yumeko was practically foaming at the mouth, but (Y/n) didn’t bat an eye.

“Well, I have a favor to repay, don’t I?”

“Why don’t we take this to the library then.” Mary suggested.

(Y/n) soon found herself being ushered away from the classroom she had been searching for and into a library study room turned gambling den. Yumeko gave her an excited smile.

“Why don’t you pick the game, (Y/n). Then we may discuss the stakes…”

***

Sayaka had only left the student council room for a moment and already she had heard the most disturbing rumor. Jabami Yumeko, demon, Antichrist, what have you, had slithered up to (Y/n) like the snake she was and proposed a gamble!

Now, Sayaka’s feelings on (Y/n) had been… not so good in the past when she had first discovered the arrangement, but the girl had wormed her way into her heart, giving her the more direct praise and validation that Kirari was so stingy with. It also probably helped that she introduced Sayaka to her current therapist who in turn hooked Sayaka up with some really top tier medication.

Needless to say, the moment she heard (Y/n) and Yumeko’s name in the same sentence, she was bursting back into the student council room and falling over herself to tell Kirari.

“Really now?” Kirari rose from her chair, an easy smile spread across her blue stained lips. “This meeting can be picked up at a later date. I hope they haven’t started yet.”

“Are you going to stop them, President?” Sayaka asked hopefully.

“Oh Sayaka, of course not. I wish to observe.”

“Nyahahaha!” Runa laughed, “Alright, my interest is piqued too. Let’s see how the new girl holds against Yumeko.”

“Yumekooo!” Midari wailed, “I gotta see too!”

A majority of the council was curious and chose to follow Kirari and Sayaka through the halls, students parting like the Red Sea when they saw them coming. A frightening sight to behold. They sauntered into the library, found the correct study room, and crowded inside. Seating around the table, Yumeko had a crazed excitement about her, Mary was looking pale, and (Y/n) had her back to the new arrivals.

“Saotome is involved too? Oh, what a treat.” Kirari observed, “You couldn’t have found a better pair to test your gambling mettle against. Having fun, darling?”

(Y/n) slowly turned in her seat to look back at the invading council members and all but Kirari shuddered under her gaze and chilling smile. Apparently, (Y/n) was a pretty good match for Kirari after all. Though she seemed like a normal, easy-going girl on the surface, she could actually be quite vicious.

“Oh yeah, I’m having a great time. Yumeko and Mary put up quite a fight, but I think they are at the end of their rope.”

And sure enough, when the cards were cast to the table, (Y/n)’s were the highest possible combination, knocking both Mary and Yumeko’s out of the game.

“No…” Mary whispered, clenching her fists.

“We lost!” Yumeko’s heart was pounding, excited to hear exactly what it was she would be losing.

Before the game began, each girl had written down what they would make the others wager. Now was the moment of truth, what had (Y/n) forced Mary and Yumeko to wager.

“What have we lost, (Y/n), show us! I can’t wait another second!” Yumeko begged.

“Okayyyy,” (Y/n) peeled up a corner of the paper agonizingly slow and flipped it over. Mary and Yumeko leaned in to read, finding that they both owed… absolutely nothing. “There it is. You’re welcome. Try to mess with me like that again however, and I may not be so forgiving.”

Mary fell back against her chair, to emotionally exhausted to even feel relieved, while Yumeko slumped into her chair in disappointment.

“Well, it’s been nice meeting you, but I should to get ready for class. Kirari,” (Y/n) turned to face her, looking much more unassuming than she had a few moments ago, “walk with me?”

“Always, but let’s go somewhere more exciting.”

The couple exited the study room together, leaving everyone behind in various states of shock.

“This is where we differ most. You could have taken them for all they had and more. I don’t know exactly what Yumeko was hoping for beyond a gamble, but Mary surely wanted to take everything from you.” Kirari pondered as they walked.

“I just don’t see the appeal. I’d feel bad taking from people who didn’t know what they were getting themselves into.”

“Ah, but they should have known. You are my fiancée after all.”

“I guess you have a point.“ (Y/n) shrugged.

The couple made their way to the roof of the school and took off in Kirari’s private helicopter while rumors that the student council president and her fiancée were not as different as they initially seemed, spread. Not when it came to their gambling prowess anyway.

#kakegurui oneshots #kakegurui x reader #kirari momobami x reader #kirari x reader #kirari momobami #requests #anonymous

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adhdmeds · 1 year ago

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How It Started W/ CSM Characters [Gender Neutral]

This is my first x reader fanfiction, so please give me plenty of criticism. You can also request certain scenarios. I hope you enjoy :) Makima:

Makima is not a devil who cares for love. She finds the idea of love to be below her, a human concept that doesn’t concern her.

You two are coworkers at the Public Safety office in Tokyo. She’s a superior and you’re a new hire, ready to prove yourself

At first, she pays you no attention unless it’s to give you orders. Whatever kind of worker you are, lazy, hardworking, enthusiastic, etc., whatever it is, it slowly catches her attention.

At first, the idea of you becoming a lingering thought to her vexes her. She’s an important person who has to run a government organization, she has no reason to get interested in anyone, even in a platonic sense

But she can’t help it, something about you stays with her until the end of the day. This can’t persist, as she has plans for Chainsaw Man and the world. With all the devils of hell to deal with, one measly human can’t distract her

She “accidentally” let some devils loose in the Tokyo district and sent you and your team to go and fix the situation.

Despite all the odds stacked against you, you survive and this does it, Makima then can’t help but think of you CONSTANTLY.

Slowly but surely her schemes pivot from Chainsaw Man and eradicating devils to getting you to be just as infatuated with her as she is with you

Maybe she could make some use of you as well

Kobeni:

Poor ‘Beni, there’s no way in hell that she has the confidence to ask you out. It’s all on you, champ

For Kobeni, you will definitely need to be coworkers for you two to become close. She has to work constantly in order to please her abusive family.

You guys are assigned to patrol the city on day and that is how you two meet.

During that patrol, you strike up conversations with Kobeni, who, despite her nervous appearance, cheerfully reciprocates.

You don’t mind her nervousness, in fact, you find it quite endearing, leading you to slowly fall for her

After that patrol, you two exchange contact information to stay in touch outside of work.

This is where she will progressively open up to you about her family problems and the difficulties that she has to go through and, to her surprise, you listen and try to help her on an emotional level

No one really cared about her emotionally so she didn’t know what to do, she felt a bit overwhelmed

You being there for her and being a genuinely kind person to her is what makes her slowly grow attached to you and what makes you fall for her even harder.

You ask her to go out to eat or to watch a movie. You stop short of calling it a “date” just in case

You both have a great time

She doesn’t admit it out loud, but she would definitely agree to a few more dates

Asa:

You’re a student who transferred to Fourth East High School. You introduce yourself to the class.

Asa doesn’t think much of you at first, you’re just another student after all.

It isn’t until you are seated next to Asa that she finally pays you any attention

You start trying to talk to her outside of class to her initial displeasure, she’s an incredibly emotionally avoidant person.

This goes on for a little bit until the Bucky situation, Yoru taking over her body, and Asa losing her best friend Yuko.

After that, she starts to appreciate you coming up to her constantly.

These past two weeks have been miserable for her and you taking time out of your day to bug talk to her has cheered her up ever so slightly

Yoru wants to take advantage of this newfound friendship to make a powerful weapon to kill Chainsaw Man

Of course, Asa can’t let that happen, you are one of the only people talking to her at the moment and she can’t let you be taken away from her

This feeling of friendship slowly changes, she looks forward to school just at the thought of seeing you again

Asa decides that she must act and so she asks you out on a date and to her surprise, you agree!

Things are looking up for Asa! She has someone who she can be close with and maybe more than friends!

Maybe Yoru can leave this relationship alone, right?

#chainsaw man #x reader #asa mitaka #makima #kobeni #makima x reader #kobeni x reader #kobeni higashiyama #asa x reader #asa mitaka x reader #gender neutral reader #csm #csm x reader #csm x y/n #csm x you

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pocketgalaxies · 2 months ago

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Since you’ve now watched the wedding do you have any thoughts on Derrig especially with how important he is to Orym? I remember the first time I watched it I found him boring compared to Lieve’tel who came before him and he didn’t do much, like you said nobody really did for a while there, cause it was mostly role play since it was a wedding and he was just out of place in that aspect too as Keyleth’s bodyguard who they were just meeting for the first time; and even after all this time and knowing he is incredibly important to a main character in C3, I still can’t shake this initial impression.

hello sorry for answering this late i wanted to catch up on c3

it got kinda long. didn't realize i could have so many thoughts about this dude!

i actually really enjoyed derrig! i think liam established him very quickly as someone who is fatherly, practical, and friendly. no-nonsense when shit hit the fan but also i just Know that he loves dad jokes and he makes his kids cringe so bad with how much he brags about them. he went home after the wedding and played scanlan shorthalt records nonstop until everyone in the house went crazy. he has also lost hours and hours and hours of sleep over what might happen to his family if he ever dies in the line of duty, and he knows that he might, and he knows that he Would if keyleth needed him to.

i think in general he's just such a Dad and that makes him very endearing to me. he is significantly older than all of vm and was very patient fielding all of their super nosy unprofessional questions about what he "intends to do" with keyleth. he watched her grow up and he knew vax (probably a bit better than he let on) and i think he has seen how that loss affected her, and i think he understands that the worry he's felt for her over the last several months could only be a fraction of how vm feels. so he entertains their questions, and he stays by her side when she's panicking about her speech, and he tells vex he's sorry, and he's just there, in case he's needed. not just by keyleth but by any of vm. which speaks volumes imo!

SORRY you asked about orym not keyleth. i think it's all about how derrig's interactions with vm reflect what his family must be like. derrig is a bit of a jokester and he's a bit of a boomer (affectionate) but he is diligent and dedicated and very skilled. in my mind orym was always this constantly Serious person while will had more of that silliness in him and pulled orym out of his shell a bit. i think will took after derrig as a jokester but orym took after him as a Soldier. and it's very easy to imagine how orym fit in to this family – an only child, quiet and severe, who loves his single mother deeply, being welcomed into this bustling loud family with the pranksters and the annual vacations and the spontaneous competitions with dad that are judged by mom. they love him like one of their own. they love him because he is one of their own

and i think losing derrig and will was zephrah losing two brilliant sparks of life, and what was left was a family mourning joy and memories and unconditional love. and i think that explains quite a lot about orym, actually.

#i think he's a character who is interesting not bc he pushes the envelope or deconstructs a trope but bc he is a Good Man #and his kindness and love has deeply shaped the lives of the people around him #i would love to see how his relationship w keyleth grew over the years. i'm SURE he offered a lot of guidance for her. became a confidant #hope this answer is satisfactory anon thanks for asking!#anonymous #ask #answered #critical role #cr extras #dalen's closet #cr3 #orym cr #derrig cr #cr meta #*meta

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thesparkling-diamond27 · 6 months ago

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The Second Bridgerton and I: Part 3

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Y/n Clearwater becomes named the “Sparkling Diamond” by Queen Charlotte herself, but she doesn’t know what to do with all this attention. Of course she has her family, but sometimes that doesn’t seem enough. But what happens when she encounters a specific Bridgerton, which changes the course of her season.

Author’s Note: This chapter includes scenes from season 3 episode 2 & 3 of Bridgerton indirectly. Down below is the link to the part 2 and part 4. I hope you enjoy! Y/nn= reader’s nick name

I walked into the drawing room to see my brothers and sister sitting at a table while my mama was sitting on the love seat while sipping tea. My father was nowhere in sight, so I assumed he was in his office taking care of business. I walked in without greeting and began searching for my small purse.

“Are you not going to say good morning to us sister?” Noah asked

“Are you not happy to see us?” Alex jested.

I paused from my searching and turned to my siblings.

“Good morning.”

“Well someone seems happy to see us.”Alexander said sarcastically and continued to read his morning newspaper.

I continued my search.

“What is it that you are searching for Y/n and why are you in such a haste?” My mama asked.

“My small purse.” I replied.

“Oh are you planning on shopping? I was planning on going to the modiste this morning with Adeline.”

“No!”

My mom looked startled at my tone towards her and so did my siblings.

“I’m sorry. I do not know what came over me. I meant no, because I am a planning on shopping with Penelope. I want to cheer her up after the news.”

Lady Whistedown’s latest issue was released this morning and it was anything, but good for Penelope right now. Now the whole ton knew about the agreement between Penelope and Colin and I know this will definitely cause a setback in her search to find a match. I haven’t spoken with her since last night’s ball and I want to make sure that she is well.

When I mentioned Penelope my mama showed a look of understanding. We all read the paper this morning and the dreadful things that was said about Penelope.

“If you wish to see Penelope then you may do so.” My mama said, “Maybe she can join us.”

“I think she would like that.” I said.

“I will look for your small purse while you go over to the Featherington household.”

“Thank you mama.”

I quickly rushed out of the drawing room and out of the house to walk to the Featherington household. When I stepped outside I noticed what a beautiful day it was. I couldn’t help but admire the flowers that were starting to bloom and appreciate the breeze that would blow occasionally. I enjoy the spring and summer seasons more than the autumn and winter seasons and I am glad the weather will become warmer.

I made it to the door of the Featherington household and knocked. Lucy answered the door. She was a maid who I encountered whenever I visited Penelope.

“Y/n it is a pleasure to see you. Are you here for Penelope?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll go get her.”

I smiled and she let me in. It was quiet, but it was usually quiet in the Featherington household. I hope I wouldn’t encounter Lady Featherington or her daughters. I only have been visiting Penelope this season and I have interacted with the other Featheringtons and they are very vexing people. Especially towards Penelope. I hope they are out shopping somewhere and not here.

I heard footsteps approaching and I saw Lucy walk down the stairs, but with no Penelope in sight.

“I’m sorry Y/n. Penelope does not wish to meet with anyone at the moment. However, she wanted me to tell you that she would like to spend time with you another day.”

“Yes tell her I would love that. Good day.”

“Thank you. Good day to you as well.”

I smiled and made my way back to my house. It was unfortunate that my efforts were in vain, but I hope I get to speak with Penelope soon.

—————————

“Can I stop by the library?!” I exclaimed, “I’m in need of a new good read.”

“Go ahead dearest.” Said mama. “Adeline and I will be in the shop across the street.”

I thanked my mama and walked into Thomas’s book store. Thomas was a nice old man who owned a book store at the end of the street. Many people visited the huge bookstore in the main plaza, but I liked coming here instead because Thomas would always set books aside for me that he thought I might like.

The bell rang as I entered and Thomas was seated by the front desk.

“Well look who it is my favorite customer.”

“I’m glad to be back. Do you have any good books?”

Thomas pulled a book from the shelf behind him and placed it on the counter.

“The newest romance novel by your favorite author.”

“Only one book? Really Thomas!” I joked.

“It’s the only new book I have that I thought you might like. Unless you want a book of fact.”

I showed a face of disgust and Thomas laughed.

“Yeah I didn’t think so.” He said,”You can search the store for more books yourself if you would like.”

“I think I will. Can you hold that book for me?”

“Of course!”

“Thank you.”

I began my search to find a book I might find interesting. Thomas picked a book of romance for me, so maybe I should read something different. Something I usually would not read, but also not boring. Usually I turn right to the romance section, but this time I decided to turn left.

I entered an aisle and began reading the spines of the books to see if any of the titles peaked my interest. I saw a book that was named women in society and it seemed interesting enough. It is a book of fact, but it would be good for me as well since I do not pay much attention to society anyway. I tried to reach for the book, but I was simply too short. I looked around for a ladder, but there was not one in sight. I reached as far as I could for the book, but it was still out of reach. I huffed in annoyance and looked around for someone to be of help, but there was no one around either. I stood on my tippy toes and attempted to grab the book again. My finger tips touched the bottom of the spine when a hand came into my field of vision. Someone stood behind me and grabbed the book I wanted from the shelf.

I turned around and the owner of the mystery hand was revealed to be Benedict. He held the book out in front of me.

“I believe you wanted this book.” Benedict said.

“Yes thank you.”

I grabbed the book and our hands touched. My hand stayed there for a second too long before I pulled away, but I wish I hadn’t.

“What are you doing here?” I asked

“Looking for a book to read. We are in a bookstore after all.”

“…Right…sorry. I am looking for a book as well.”

I motioned towards the book in my hand and he read the title.

“Women in society. A great pick. My sister Eloise raved about it so much last season that I had to read it for myself. It was quite fascinating I must say.”

“I usually read books of romance and I figured I should read a book like this for a change.”

“Romance you say?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve always found romance in literature quite daft.”

“Daft?! Have you ever read a romance novel.”

“No I can’t say I have.”

“Then you have no right to say that romance in literature is daft!”

Benedict looked amused.

“What genre do you like?” I asked

“I enjoy poetry.”

“Poetry?”

“Yes what is wrong with poetry.”

“Nothing it is just that….you do not seem like the type of person to enjoy poetry.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me Y/n.”

Y/n. When he escorted me back to my family at last night’s ball he asked me to call him Benedict and he began to call me Y/n. He decided that it is only fitting since we are friends. I agreed to it, but only when we were alone, since I did not want people in the ton getting a wrong impression of our companionship. I guess it is okay now since we are the only ones in the bookstore at the moment.

“Well Benedict, I would love to learn more about you as time goes on.”

“I would love to learn more about you as well. Have you ever read poetry?”

“No I can’t say I have.”

“How about this. Why don’t you pick out a romance novel for myself while I pick a book of poetry for you to read. It can be a way for us to get to know each other better.”

“I would like that. Would you like to share our thoughts with one another as we go on?”

“Yes! I would like to know what you think about poetry and it would give me an excuse to see you again.” He said with a wink.

I blushed. Benedict wanted to see me again because he enjoyed my company like how I enjoy his. Our friendship has become an unexpected surprise this season and I am forever grateful.

“Now on to the poetry section.” Benedict said.

Benedict led me to the poetry section and picked out a book from the second shelf.

“This book is not like the sappy stuff that you read in your romance novels.”

“They are not always sappy!” I argue.

I take the book from him and playfully hit his head.

“Hey what was that for?!”

But he didn’t seem mad at my action. He was smiling.

“Knocking some sense into that head of yours! Now it’s my turn to pick.”

“Lead the way.”

I began to walk to the romance section and Benedict followed me. I scanned the shelves until I came across one of my favorites and it will definitely be quite a shocker for Benedict. I plucked the book from the shelf and handed it to him.

“Here you go.” I said.

“The Ancient Legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. I’ve never heard of it.”

“It is an Ancient Greek myth. My grandpa is from Greece, so he grew up with tales from Greek Mythology. He read those kind of stories to his children, my mama, aunt and uncle, and my mama read those tales to my siblings and I growing up.”

“You are Greek?”

“Yes. There are a lot of things you do not know about me Benedict.”

I repeated the same words he said to me earlier and he seemed to notice because he smiled knowingly.

“The story is a love story, but it is a tragedy and it involves real life scenarios. You will see.” I said.

“Tragedy you say. Like Romeo and Juliet?”

“Both stories may be tragedies, but Romeo and Juliet can never compare to The Ancient Legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. It is different in so many different ways.”

“Wow! You have such high praise for this book. I can’t wait to read it and I hope this will be a good read.”

“Of course it will be a good read! I would not have recommended it to you unless it was.”

“I know I’m just teasing.”

I whacked him with the book again.

“You and your teasing!” I giggled.

“Why do you keep hitting me?!” He said with laughter.

“Because it’s funny.”

“Well I’m glad you hit me repeatedly for your own amusement.” He said sarcastically.

“Oh don’t be such a baby! Let’s go purchase these books. I don’t want my mama waiting for long.”

We were walking through the aisles, on our way back to Thomas, when Benedict asked,

“Did you find out how Miss Featherington is doing?”

I told Benedict about the situation with Penelope at last night’s ball and how I wanted to reach out to her to make sure she was alright. I was surprised he remembered.

“No. I went to her house this morning, but she didn’t want any visitors.”

He nodded in understanding

“I would just give it some time.” Benedict said.

“Ah look who it is! My two favorite customers!” Thomas said as we reached the counter.

“I thought I was your only favorite customer.” I said

“I can have more than one.”

I laughed in response. I was reaching in my purse for my money to pay for my books when Benedict’s hand stopped mine.

“I’ll pay for your books.” He said

“Oh no you do not have to.”

“No I insist.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. Let me do something nice for my friend.”

I figured there was no point in arguing so I let him pay. He finished paying for both our books and we started to gather our things.

“Please come again. Both of you. I like talking with you two.” Thomas said.

“Do not worry I will be back.” I said with a smile.

“As will I.” Said Benedict.

Thomas looked a both of us with a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. Something was bothering him, but I could not figure out what exactly. I was about to ask, but he had already walked away.

“Did he seem off to you?” I asked Benedict.

“He did, but he might be tired. He is old after all.” Benedict said with a shrug.

“Probably.”

Benedict and I both exited the bookstore and out to the sidewalk.

“Thank you for buying my books.” I said

“It was my pleasure.”

“It was nice seeing you again. I am going to head back to my mama and sister.”

“Wait before you go. Are you going to the event Lord Trumble is having next week?”

“I believe so. I recall my mama mentioning it.”

“Good I’ll see you there!” He said with a smile.

I smiled back. “Good day Benedict.”

“Good day Y/n.”

—————————

“Do not go far!” Aunt Athena shouted.

My two cousins, Nolan and Nikolai ran away to go play near the pond.

“Noah and Alexander.” My mama said, “Can you two go after them to make sure they do not get into trouble.”

“Sure mama.” Noah said and Noah and Alexander went after Nolan and Nikolai.

My family was currently at the local park. My mama, Adeline, Aunt Athena, my cousins, Natalia and Niya, and I are all sitting at two tables under a white tent. My oldest cousin Norah was promenading with her husband that she married last season. My father, Maxwell and his father are off having a serious conversation.

“Lord Findlay seems like a nice young man dearest. Both of you seemed to get along when he was over.” My mama said. “Do you wish to pursue him?”

“No mama. He is a fine gentleman, but I do not see him that way, because he suits a friend more to me.”

“What about Lord Harvey?” Aunt Athena interjected. “He is a noble gentleman and I have heard nothing, but good things about the young boy.”

“I do not feel a connection with Lord Harvey.”

I poured myself a cup of tea to give me something to do. I know my family had good intentions, but it felt like I was being interrogated by them.

“Well then if you are not interested in Lord Findlay or Lord Harvey then who are you interested in?” My cousin Natalia asked.

I looked over to where Maxwell was standing and continued to sip my tea. My mother must have caught on because she smiled and said,

“I think Y/n has an idea on who she is interested in.” My mom grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

My Aunt Athena and my two cousins all had knowing smiles when they realized who my mom was talking about.

“If Maxwell is the one then you must make haste my dear Y/n.” Aunt Athena said. “He is a wanted Lord from both the mama’s and their daughters of the ton. You better hurry before someone steals him before you. Ah Lord Maxwell.”

I whipped my head around and Maxwell was standing in front of us. I hope he did not hear our conversation. That would be so embarrassing!

“I was wondering if I can borrow Y/n for a moment.”

“You most certainly can.” My mama said.

I rose from my seat to Maxwell and he linked our arms together.

Maxwell had to leave for a business trip with his father tomorrow, so this will be the last time I will see him in a while. I heard my Aunt’s words in my head: “If Maxwell is the one then you must make haste my dear Y/n.”. Did I really have to make haste with Maxwell? Would he be interested in someone else?

“What is going on in that head of yours?” Maxwell asked.

“Nothing. I simply want this moment to last.”

“It will when I return. Listen I know I’m going to be away for a while, but I cannot help but think that you will wait for me as long as I am gone. I will return before the season is over I assure you. I want you to know that you are an extraordinary woman and I have loved every second of getting to know you……I know you and your parents have been waiting for me to ask this question, but I wanted to make sure before asking such a question and I am. I was wondering if you would allow me to court you?”

This is exactly what my family and I wanted for me. A nice gentleman who has become interested in me enough to want to court me. This was perfect, but why did I not feel satisfied. I was overjoyed and excited, but for some reason I did not feel whole. I think it is just nerves, so I decide to brush it off.

“I would love for you to court me.” I said.

We both smiled at one another and Maxwell brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Can we keep this a secret between us?” I asked. “I want to keep this a secret from the ton until you return. We can tell our families of course.”

“I can agree to those terms. It can be our secret.”

“Our secret” I said with a smile.

A part of me agreed that I wanted to keep our courtship a secret in order to be romantic. However, another part of me knew the truth, but I did not want to admit it. At least not now.

I looked around the park to distract myself. I took in the scenery when I noticed a familiar head of reddish auburn hair. She seemed to notice me as well because she stopped walking.

“I will be right back.” I told Maxwell.

“Alright. I have to continue my discussion with our fathers anyway.”

I nodded in understanding and he walked away. I walked back to my mama and asked,

“Can I promenade with her for a moment?”

I motioned to the girl waiting for me.

“Yes you can Y/n, but do not walk too far.”

I thanked my mama and walked my way over to Penelope. This would be the first time I will talk to her since she ran away from the ball a few days ago. The past few days I couldn’t help but worry about her. However, she did seem somewhat okay when I got a closer look at her. I couldn’t help, but notice the whispers and stares directed towards Penelope as I walked. This is what always makes me afraid of making a mistake. One misstep and the ton would see you as an outsider.

“Hello Pen.”

“Hello Y/nn.”

“How have you been?”

“Managing. This is the first time I have left my house since what happened. I am glad I ran into you.”

I went to hug her and she did the same at the same time. I missed Penelope and our friendship. I haven’t seen her in a few days.

“I am glad you are okay.” I said.

“What has been going on with you?” Penelope asked.

She linked her arm with mine and we began walking.

“I haven’t told anyone this yet and this had just happened, but Maxwell asked to court me.”

“Oh Y/nn that’s wonderful news! You don’t seem excited. Are you not excited?”

“No I am excited! It’s just that….I don’t know. I thought I would feel complete or whole. Think that this path is the right decision. But for some reason I have a feeling in my stomach that is telling me that this is wrong.”

“Maybe it is just nerves.”

“That is what I have been thinking, but I do not know.”

“It is probably just nerves, but if it is not your parents want you to marry for love. If you do not feel this way with Maxwell then they cannot make you marry him.”

“My dad did say that I did not have to marry him.”

“Exactly! So I would not worry about it too much. Some of us are not as lucky.”

I knew when Penelope was saying this she was referencing to her mother. I felt bad for everything she had to go through.

“I have something to tell you.” Penelope said.

“What is it?”

“Colin kissed me.”

I looked at Penelope in shock. Colin kissed her? Did that mean that he finally reciprocated feelings for her.

“What does this mean for the two of you?”

“Nothing. I asked him to kiss me because I wanted to be kissed at least once. I do not think I will ever find a husband and I wanted to know what it was like to be kissed. Colin was the only man I trust to do something like that and the only man who would be okay to do such a thing.”

“Do not say such things Pen. I am sure some gentleman out there will see you for the beauty that you are. Inside and out.”

“Thank you for those kind words Y/nn, but I have to be realistic. I just finished talking with Colin and we both agreed that our deal will no longer continue. Our plan backfired and it did more harm than good.”

I wanted to argue more and prove her wrong, but I didn’t want to upset Penelope, so I kept quiet.

“Was he a good kisser?” I asked.

“Y/nn!”

“What I have never been kissed and I want to know what it is like. Plus I am pretty sure you have been imagining that kiss since you were a child.”

“Well you are not wrong….Yes he was an amazing kisser. It was everything that I could have possibly imagined and better. However, I know he does not feel the same way as I, but at the same time I feel like I needed that kiss. It was a way for me to have closure and now I do.”

I nodded in understanding. I can understood Penelope’s point of view with the situation. She has been pining over Colin for years and I thought maybe he might feel the same way after the kiss. But I guess he still sees her the same way and only kissed her as a friend.

Penelope telling me about her kiss with Colin made me wonder what it will be like to be kissed. I assume I might receive my first kiss with Maxwell soon due to marriage being seen in the future. I wonder what it would be like to kiss Maxwell.

“You know Y/nn. I trust you and our friendship.”

“I would hope so.” I joked.

We both laughed.

“There is something that I have been wanting to tell you for a while and I believe that I can tell you soon. I won’t tell you now , but when it is just the two of us and when I am ready I’ll tell you.”

“Okay.”

What she said brought me back to what Eloise told me at the ball a few nights ago.

“Not everyone is the way they appear to be. Some carry secrets. I discovered that Penelope was one of them.”

Was it true that Penelope was keeping secrets? And if she was, was she going to tell me?

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #benedict x reader #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #friends to lovers

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